GINNY/DRACO, loves.

DISCLAIMER: These characters belong to J.K. Rowling. NOT ME.

- - - - -

The sharp dagger was cold in her hand as she shivered against the windowsill, legs propped up and intertwined. Three other girls remained fast asleep, heavy breathing and soft snores protruding from their mouths. Her fingers grip the knife tightly, her face pale, cold. The three words replay continually in the girls head at a quick pace: "I hate you." To her it feels the world has bailed out on her, that her life is meaningless. Although she purely wishes it was far from the case, the girl scoffs at the immaturity of her kin, the embarrassment of her own blood. How dare they judge her when the lives that they lead are leading to dead ends? Do they honestly believe that her actions would have differed had she not met her true love? Could they honestly pretend to sit on a pettistool when many would laugh at their lack of propriety? No, the girl whispered, they are not my family.

Thick tears of anger rolled down her cheeks as she pained with agony. Nothing appeared to her liking anymore. She had lost her appetite, her grades dropped, and even quidditch had done her in. The entire world she had spent years building had now fallen into darkness. Although many teachers continued to pull her aside after classes and show much concern over her loss of weight and/or interest, the girl laughed at their stupidity, their blindness. Everyone believed that her reasoning was so simple, that her motives were purely caused by fights with friends, or the new person her life revolved around. No, they couldn't be this stupid. How could they not see that her family was the cause of this depression? Why wouldn't they take a look at her family, whose pressure had been built to a point of mass destruction? This was the reasoning of the girl's vast change in heart.

One of the three other girls in the room stirred, a yawn emersing from her mouth. The paining girl lifted her head, turning to face the disruption of her wallowing. Go back to sleep, she mumbled, slightly irritated. If only she had been blessed with roommates who could sleep through anything. This lot would awake if a mouse crawled.

Soft curls of a vibrant red cascaded before the girl's face. Although tied back into a bun figure, the girl's bangs hung annoyingly in her face, curls disturbing her mourning honey-coloured eyes. These were the only remains of the girl's old figure, her proud figure. Now she was thin, only one-hundred pounds, and her skin was as pale as the moon she now sat beneath. This change in appearance only took several months to actually occur. She was so far from proud of her new look; it was actually an enormous embarrassment, especially when witnessing her wardrobe. Her robes were now several sizes to big, and her attire outside of school was hardly an better. Large tees clung to her scraggly arms, torn jeans a size or two too large. Her beauty was now so far from apparent, and everyone knew it. She had been the one girl that people envied for her innocence, her natural appeal. Now people laughed at her, stared, worried. No longer was she the pleasant girl she used to be.

The sharpened end of her small knife was now cutting into her wrist, the pain overcome by her sorrow. She closed her eyes as it drew deeper and deeper, the blood spilling out of her body quicker and quicker. Now there was no pain, none at all. All she could feel was the aching in her body from the loss of blood, the emptiness in her heart. It was right, that she ended her life this way. If her heart hadn't been involved what would be the point? She only felt sorry for her friends who would have to find her like this in the morning. For her dear love, who would have to be informed of his newly formed ex-girlfriend committing suicide. Not her family, who raised her with such open arms. Not her two dear friends whom she had spent the last five years of her life with, nor her brother whom she had known since birth. She did not pity these three, nor her family, for the damage they had so unknowingly caused. They were all deceited by their own blind cheeks.

Her face grew pale with ease, and the girl quickly thought of all her memories of him. He, who she had known since her first year at Hogwarts. He, who she had been raised to hate with a cold heart. He, who she had indeed hated up until her past year. This boy was the one she loved, no matter his reasons for ending their relationship. Although he was the arch nemesis of one of her ex-best friends, she loved him dearly.

I love you, she whispered softly, now retreating to the ground weakly.

The girl lay instinctively flat on the oak flooring, her hair fanning out around her pale face. She wasn't sorry. No, not at all. This was the way she had wanted to go, and she had done it right. Although it wasn't well-thought out, it was the easiest way to do it. No noise, quick, and somewhat painless. The only noise apparent was the loud thumping in her yearning heart.

She closed her eyes, the last tears she was to ever give were now dripping down her cheeks. Her mouth closed as she took her last few breaths, escaping from her world of darkness. She was now completely separated from it, although far from dead. She entered the world of regret, anger, passing. Only in a few moments would she die completely, her body shutting down after weeks of self-mutilation and torture.

Now, after the enormity of all her pain, the girl would be put to rest.

- - - - -

The thick oak door of the girls' dormitory opened slowly, a familiar person entering. His light-blonde hair glowed in the moonlight of the room, his silver-blue eyes glistening. He had made a mistake, or so he realized, and now he came to fix it.

Just three days ago the boy had broken up with his love, for reasons he himself did not know. She was changing, and it was for the worse. He knew this. No matter how hard he tried to butt out, the girl was constantly being broken by her family's errors in judgement. Their name-calling, judging, and even disowning. This girl, he now decided, needed his help more than he could ever being to comprehend.

And now, after much thought into this whole 'mending a relationship' process, the boy stood before the one whom he had loved so dearly and grown so attached to. Her body lay before him, lifeless. The lovely locks of pure red joy were fanned out around her delicate face, her honey eyes closed. As the boy kneeled beside her, he took her soft hand in his, tenderly. If only he had come seconds sooner, he might've been able to save his love's life. But he was incapable of doing so, and he now wept.

Blood now seeped into the knees of his pants as he inched closer to her. He wouldn't leave her now, no, he couldn't. He had promised her in the beginning of this madness that he would stand by her side for eternity, and now that he had already backed out once he wasn't about to do it again.

Without any hesitance whatsoever, the boy reached down and met the love of his life's lips in their last kiss. The screams of her now awakened roomates were drumming in his ears as he leaned into her's.

"I love you," He whispered softly in the girl's ear. "Ginevra."

Finished.

Reviews are appreciated.