Ginny Weasely had a secret. It sat menacingly in the back of her mind, it trickled through her veins. She sat at the edge of her bed, pushing a wooden brush through the tangles in her hair. Her thoughts were louder than the clamor in the Burrow, where the wedding preparations were dragging on.

It wasn't that she had bad luck with men, or that she trusted the wrong ones, because that was not a secret at all. Her first mistake, with Tom Riddle, was public knowledge. No one was ever going to let her live that one down. And then there was Dean Thomas, who had been nice and loyal enough, until he realized Ginny was only settling for him.

And Harry. She knew he wasn't malicious like the others; she understood his actions and the reasons behind them perfectly. But the fact remained that no one had ever broken her as completely as he had.

Well, almost no one.

-

"Gin, run, save yourself!"

"Tell my ma I'll miss her!"

She remembered the twins' shouts from that day so vividly she had to look around and make sure she was still alone. Then, Ginny closed her eyes again.

Fred and George were doubled over in laughter, leaning on each other for support. Ginny stopped twenty or so feet ahead of them, contemplating whether or not she would really leave her brothers in the clutch. George straightened.

"Well if you're offering," he shrugged.

"I think she is, mate," Fred agreed.

"Offering what?" Ginny asked, but before she could take another step, the twins had vanished.

"I guess catching one Weasel is better than catching none." He was still quite far away, but Ginny could tell from the silver hair, the feline gait, the arrogant sneer, just who had caught her.

"Travelling without your guard, I see," she observed casually. Running would only feed Draco's ego, besides; what's the worst he could do? Ginny shuddered; there was a lot he could do.

He had already advanced on her. "Come with me," he commanded, grabbing her robes.

"Let go of me, I can walk by myself, you know," she jerked away from him. Draco snorted.

"We'll wait in the potions room. That way Snape can deal with you directly."

"Snape? You're supposed to take me to McGonagall, dimwit."

"Shut up, Weasel. I'm a prefect; show some respect."

The potions room was empty. Draco hopped onto the Potions Master's desk. Ginny leaned against the far wall, blowing out her bangs.

"You know, I really hope you can take something away from all this," he remarked casually. "Detention is nothing compared to the trouble you'll get into when Umbridge finds out about Harry Potter's little gang." Ginny felt blood rush to her neck and face. She hated that her body betrayed her emotions in such a plain way.

"You don't know anything about anything," she warned him with her voice.

"I know you're only in it so you could swoon over Potter. Pathetic," he sneered, not even bothering to look in her direction.

"What I do with my free time is my own business, Malfoy. Just like what you and your two boyfriends do to each other is your own business!" she yelled back at him.

"Don't start with me Ginny," Draco's eyes flashed threateningly. "I have no qualms hitting girls, especially a Weasel girl."

"I bet you don't. Pig."

"Speaking of pigs, pretty rotten of your brothers, leaving you to take the fall like that," Draco observed, watching her closely. Ginny swallowed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she answered.

"Come on, we both know you didn't set off that stinkbomb by yourself."

"I most certainly did," she answered fiercely.

"Why are you protecting them? It doesn't make any sense." As Draco said this, he slid off Snape's desk and faced Ginny for the first time. Although her eyes had never left him, now that he was looking back at her, Ginny lost the caustic response that had been waiting in her throat. Even from a distance, Draco's stare had the power to creep into Ginny's core, make her feel small and vulnerable, and something else she didn't like to think about.

"Cat got your tongue," he smiled. Ginny balled her hands into fists.

"You don't understand anything, Malfoy, because you're a spoiled little brat. You've never had to share anything, or work for anything, or keep anyone's secrets," the last part slipped out, and she bit down on her lips to stop herself from talking. Draco raised an eyebrow. Ginny looked away from his face. Her whole body felt hot, she had to get her control back, she had to.

"I may be an only child," he began, and Ginny noticed his voice was missing it's trademark steel-edge. "-but that doesn't have anything to do with keeping secrets." When she finally ventured another glance in his direction, she found he was only inches away now. Ginny sucked in breath.

"I know how to keep a secret," he purred. She wanted to tell him to go away. To get lost. But the words kept falling apart in her head. She also wanted to reach out and touch him, to see if his skin was cold like she had always imagined it had been. Cold like the rest of him.

"C-can you?" she whispered. Where had those words come from? They hung in the air, and Ginny wondered if a stranger had said them, using her voice. Draco smiled, and she was sure it was the first real smile she had ever seen him give anyone.

"I can. What about you, Ginny? Can you keep a secret?"

-

Ginny opened her eyes, once again sitting on her own bed in her own tiny room. She crossed over to the window, only a couple of steps really, to look out into the garden. She could see her mother, standing with Hermione, in the middle of the field where the tent would be. Much closer to her window, she found Harry hard at work in the garden. He was too far to tell for sure, but Ginny imagined sweat beading on his forehead, mixing with his hair to make it wilder. She imagined the muscles in his back tensing as he worked. It wouldn't be much longer now, until she put her plan into place. As she pictured Harry in her head, she reminded herself over and over of how it really was the right decision. Harry was The One. She just needed to prove it.

-

They ran, crazy, uncaring, through the deserted grounds of the castle. Ginny kept losing her footing, threatening to tumble, but Draco pulled her onward, keeping her stable enough. She didn't know why she had let Draco Malfoy, a boy she didn't really know but had never heard anything good about, drag her away from the ball and into the darkness. It probably had something to do with the slippery green liquid all the sixth year girls had been passing around under their gowns. Ginny had taken a few sips, just to prove she really belonged there, but now it was making it hard to put thoughts together. They just kept melting away. Kind of like when Neville had put his hand on her leg; she had felt awkward, but she forgot why until Neville started leaning in closer. He had such a hangdog look in his eyes. Ginny was so busy feeling bad for him that she didn't even think about what he was trying to do until he was inches from her lips. That's when an iron grip locked around her arm and she was yanked away into the darkness. Now she was riding it out, even though a small, half-melted part of her screamed it was nothing but a bad idea. Who cared? Maybe she would live for bad ideas. At the moment, all she could think about was how completely his hand wrapped around hers. It made her feel small. It made her feel like a girl.

"That was a close one, wasn't it?" he laughed mockingly.

"You- don't think- he- he saw you- do you?" Ginny's words came between ragged breaths. She didn't think she could run much more, but she didn't want to tell Draco.

"Nah, Longbottom's as dim as they come, he won't know what hit him." Ginny laughed, even though inside she felt a little guilty about abandoning her friend in the Great Hall.

"You know," she began softly. "Right before you came, he tried to kiss me." Ginny nearly collapsed into laughter. Draco held her by the shoulders, letting her slide against his chest to keep from falling.

"Yeah, I saw that. It's why I rescued you," he told her. She looked up in surprise.

"Rescued me?"

"Did you want to kiss Neville Longbottom?" he asked in false innocence.

"No! I mean, he's my friend," Ginny forgot what she was saying. It came back to her, in pieces. "Neville's my friend and I'm grateful he invited me to the ball 'cause I couldn't have gone otherwise but I don't really want him to be my first ki-" Ginny cupped her hand over her mouth. Had she really just admitted to Draco Malfoy that she had never been kissed? Why was Draco here anyway?

Draco's predatory smile lit up his features. "No, that wouldn't have been a very good first kiss."

"Don't make fun of me," she pleaded.

"I wasn't making fun of you, I was agreeing with you." Draco ran his fingers up and down the length of Ginny's arm. She felt warm, and sleepy, and there was still this small voice, trying to tell her something important, but the words were underwater.

"I-" she began, not knowing what she was going to say but wanting to break the silence. Then, just like that, the words broke the surface.

He's taking advantage of you.

Ginny pushed away from Draco with sudden force. He didn't move, but watched her curiously. Ginny staggered back, trying with all her might to remain standing.

"What are you trying to do? Just wait 'til I call my brothers!" she yelled at him. Draco laughed.

"Ginny, you're drunk. Let me help you."

"No!" she jerked away from his hand, even though she had almost forgotten why she was so mad in the first place.

"Listen, Ginny, you don't want to be walking around out here by yourself, do you?"

Ginny looked around. It was very dark. She tried to orient herself, looked for the door that they had burst out of, but as she turned around in place, she only got more confused.

"Will you just take me back to the ball, please?" she cried. Draco held out his hand. Ginny tentatively placed her fingers in his, but the moment she did, he gripped them forcefully, pulling her body to his.

"Draco!" she screamed in panic. Draco brushed his face against hers, so that his lips traced her lips for a brief moment.

"I'll take you back if you kiss me," he told her. There was a mockingly playful tone to his voice.

"You promise?" she whispered. She waited for an answer, but Draco's lips came instead, pressing against hers with a strange intensity. Ginny felt her whole body light up. She made a sound; it escaped through her barely parted lips which Draco took full advantage of.

-

"Fred! That's not funny!" Molly Weasley's shrill voice traveled up the stairs, breaking Ginny's concentration.

Draco Malfoy had been her first kiss; that was a secret she had kept from everybody. Even her best friends thought Michael Corner was her first. How many boys had she kissed in her lifetime? Not many, maybe four or five. Which kisses stood out?

The kiss from Harry in the Gryffindor Common room, she immediately thought. Yes, that was the best so far. She relived it a couple times in her head, but the images had an intruder. One that would not be ignored.

-

"Thinking of Dean, are you?" Draco snickered. It was the first thing either of them had said out loud in awhile.

"No," she laughed sincerely." Ginny was sitting cross-legged, with Draco's head in her lap. She figured she must look ridiculous from that angle, but it hadn't stopped Draco from watching her intently.

The pair were lounging on an old couch, some hideous 1970's castoff, that lay hidden between towering piles of old junk. Draco had called this room, "the room of forgotten things", and later, "our special place".

"No," Ginny repeated. "I'm never thinking of him when I'm with you." The way Draco's face lit up with this remark, with the tiniest derisive laugh, made Ginny feel very powerful. This was a boy the other girls whispered and dreamed about, but only she could make him light up like that. Only she had the power to lift him up, or even to break him she supposed, though she never could. She never could.

Draco's hands were fidgeting with his robes. The sleeves had ridden up, revealing toned and wiry forearms. Ginny shuddered. Draco sat up, smiling at the way she shifted her body, reacting unconsciously to him moving away.

"You know," she began slowly. Draco was watching her again, his hand dipping into the valley between her knees. "I would break up with him, if you'd break up with Pansy." She watched him out of the corner of her eye, waiting for him to answer her.

"Nahh," he said finally, and though her heart sank a little, she also felt relieved. "It's easier this way."

"Yeah," she agreed.

"I don't care that Thomas gets to take you to the Hog's Head or cheers you on at games, so long as you like me best."

"I like you loads better than Dean," she answered carefully. It was enough for Draco, and he moved in to kiss her.

Ginny loved kissing Draco; loved the way his hands pulled at her hair, loved the warmth and the weight of his body, loved tasting his breath in her lungs. Draco trailed his fingertips down her arm, down to her fingertips, and intertwined them with his. Ginny bit down on his lower lip, knowing how this drove him crazy, and smiled inwardly as he growled into her mouth. He pulled her hand across her body, into his lap, where it rubbed against something hard and insistent . Ginny jerked her hand away instinctively.

"Gin-" he breathed.

"I don't want to," she told him, trying to get him to kiss her again.

"Don't you want to make me feel good?" he asked, and his voice was so unexpectedly sweet, Ginny had a hard time even summoning words.

"Yes-" she began, but Draco had already pulled her hand back between his legs. She resisted again.

"What is it," he asked with considerably less sweetness.

"I want to, but-"

"But what?"

"I don't know how," she squeaked. Draco smiled widely, and Ginny considered just getting up and leaving right then. Then, Draco hooked his fingers around the back of her knee, and pulled her over so she was sitting on top of him.

"I'll show you," he told her, encircling her tiny wrists in his hands.

-

Ginny opened her eyes; no! This wasn't what she was supposed to be filling her mind with, not right now. She had made her choices a long time ago, and she was happy enough. Enough.

"Harry, come inside please!" she heard her mom yell from downstairs. It was time- now was her chance. Harry was her future, Harry was her one. He had always been kind to her, truthful with her, and truth was something Ginny needed to like water. She smoothed down her sweater, checked her reflection once more in the mirror. This was it. Ginny crossed the room, reaching for the door handle but just falling short. One day, she hoped she could bury all her secrets, but for now they remained alive and active inside her, and when they spoke, she had no choice but to listen.

-

Ginny sat perched on the arm of their old couch, fidgeting with the heavy chain around her neck. It wasn't like Draco to be late for their meetings, but she noticed lately that he had been fraying a little around the edges. She had hoped it was just sixth year stresses, but she knew there was more going on under that coif of silver hair than he had ever let on. She liked to think that she was probably the one person he ever confessed anything real to, but still she feared that it was still just a fraction of what he was really thinking.

He appeared in front of her, from a different angle than she had anticipated. How long had he been waiting there?

"Hey," she ventured, but he didn't move. His whole body was shaking.

"Draco, what's wrong?"

"I heard about your little stunt. With Potter." Ginny's stomach dropped.

"It was nothing," she answered immediately.

"You let him kiss you."

"I've had other boyfriends before, you've never-"

"Anyone but him!" he shouted, and Ginny fell silent. Draco advanced on her, his gait primal and menacing. Ginny half-expected him to bare his teeth.

"I'm sorry Draco, it just happened. I didn't even know what was going on." She tried to hold her ground, but he had come all the way up to her, his face practically pressing against hers. She could feel the heat coming off him in waves.

"Do you love him?" he asked in a voice so low she almost couldn't make it out. Ginny bit her lip.

"Do you love him!?" he screamed in her face.

"N-no," she stammered.

"LIAR!" He grabbed her by the hair, pulled her even closer to him so that she almost fell off the couch.

"I've risked everything for this-for you! If you knew the pressure I was under," he sputtered, his voice breaking.

"I'm sorry!" she pleaded, and in that moment she would have taken back the kiss if it meant she would never have to see that look in Draco's eyes again.

Draco turned from her, releasing her scalp. He took two steps, staggered, then fell to the floor.

"Go away!" he yelled at her, his fingers tearing at his own hair. A few seconds later, Ginny was at his side.

"You want the truth, Draco?" she asked between tears. He looked up at her darkly. "The truth is, I don't feel about Harry the way I feel about you. But I could, someday. Because this, this isn't going anywhere. You will never love me like I want you to, Like I need you to. You are cold, and you're selfish, and you're ashamed of me."

"Gin," he interrupted,

"No," she warned him thickly. "You would die before telling your family about us, and you know it. So what am I supposed to do? Tell me Draco, what am I supposed to do?"

"I love you," he told her.

"I love you too," she answered, wrapping her arms around him. "but I don't know if it's enough."

"I can't let you go to Potter, I just can't" he spoke into her chest, his body still shaking against hers.

"I'm sorry."

"He really has everything, he doesn't even know it. He doesn't even-" Draco's words trailed off as he began to kiss her neck wetly. Ginny leaned into his mouth. Just this last time, she decided. Just once more.

Draco found her lips; he smashed his face against hers so roughly she could feel the imprint of his teeth on her skin. He tried to push her down onto the floor, but she put her hands on his chest and moved him away.

"Not like this," she told him. He lunged for her again, this time bearing his full weight so that she had no choice but to tumble backwards. He was all over her in an instant; his mouth traveling insatiably from her neck, back to her mouth, back down again to her breasts.

"Draco, don't" she pleaded.

"Please Ginny," he whispered into her skin. "I can't let him be the one. You are mine. I have to make you mine. Forever."

"No!" she screamed. His weight was too much for her to bear; his knees pressed into her thighs painfully, his hands moving everywhere at once, his mouth leaving a slick trail on her skin.

He ripped her robes almost to her navel, attacking her exposed flesh which shivered from fear and cold. She scrambled to get out from underneath him, but he was undeniably strong, keeping her on her back with little effort. Her fists pounded into his back and shoulders. She pleaded for him to stop.

When the moment came, and he tore into her, Ginny's mind went white. She stopped trying to fight him and shut it all out. The pain, the blood, the consequences. She felt the movement of their bodies, and his breath on her face. She felt him collapse on top of her. Then, she felt nothing at all.

-

Ginny scrunched her eyes against this rush of images. She was kissing Harry fiercely, pushing up against him, trying to make him understand. He was responding like she wanted him to, his tongue moving gently with hers. Harry was the gentle one, she thought warmly. And Draco was the-

STOP IT! She thought, kissing Harry even more passionately. No, she was in control of her thoughts, her emotions. This right now was what she had always wanted. Harry had been the man of her dreams for five years, and now she was going to stake her claim to him, if only he would cooperate a little more quickly. Why hadn't he moved them to her bed yet?

"Ginny," Draco's voice whispered in her mind.

"Go away," she thought. "Haven't you done enough?"

"I'm sorry, Ginny," Harry mumbled awkwardly as he left her room. He had left. Sure, Ron had stumbled in and kind of ruined the initial mood, but he could have stayed if he had wanted to.

Ginny fell back onto her bed. There was no fighting him anymore. In the war in her mind, Draco always won.

-

Ginny knew she was lucky to have a room to herself. It allowed her precious alone time to think, to reminisce and work out all the intricacies of being a girl without Fred and George giving her grief. This Christmas it had been particularly handy, because after all the gift exchanging and the butterbeer and the obligatory chitchat with distant relatives, Ginny was able to steal away to her room and, all alone, open the one present she had been dying to dig into all day. The whole afternoon had been torture, knowing it was up there in her sock drawer, just waiting for her. But now, at last, it was time for the little silver packet with the green satin bow. Her fingers slipped under the knot, pulling it free. She had found the gift two weeks ago, tucked away in her school trunk between robes. She hadn't needed a note to know who it was from.

After the ribbon loosened, the folded paper opened up like a blossoming flower, revealing a black leather box. Ginny opened it, literally bouncing with excitement. A silver chain, its links intertwined with a rope of dark jewels, cradled a folded note. The necklace was exquisite, but Ginny couldn't even wait long enough to slip it over her head before devouring the note. From him. He had written to her!

G-

Merry Christmas and all that rubbish. I figured you might need something to brighten your time spent back home. The necklace belonged to my great grandmother. It's unique, like you. If you wear it and think of me, I will always know. If I can, I'll be there with you. I hope that you will put it on straight away; I know I'll be missing you unbearably by the twenty-fifth.

-D

Ginny slipped the chain around her neck, then under her blouse, pressing the cold metal tight against her skin. She knew there was no way Draco could come to the Burrow right then, but she still scrunched her eyes and imagined him standing in front of her with all the strength she could muster.

-

Ginny Weasley did have a secret, but more than she had him, he had her. He had been right; she had always belonged to him. There was no point in fighting it anymore. Somewhere at the bottom of her trunk, where she had thrown it after a few unsuccessful attempts to break it apart, was the silver and jeweled necklace. Ginny saw it as an anchor. She rummaged through the debris, shredding the skin around her nails on sharp edges and splintering wood. Her fingers grazed cold metal, coiled like a snake, and she knew. Ginny wrapped the necklace tight around her fingers, sat back on her heels, and waited.