(A/N)

Time Period- Set right after the end of Goblet Of Fire/beginning of OotP; There's no Umbridge in this story, however.

Rating- M as a precaution, for violence, self harm, and sexual scenarios (I'd say it probably won't require the 'M', it's just there as a precaution.)

Chapter Warnings- Self harm, could be considered triggering.

November

"Young, naïve, foolish, girl. Pouring out your soul to a diary. You should've known better. And now… now I'll defile you in the most humiliating possible way."

Ginny Weasley awoke in a cold sweat, her heart racing as the all-too-vivid dreams that she'd been having ever since Voldemort had risen to power again engulfed her. It was all much too real. As the tears that had become her all too familiar, all too expected unwelcome guests started making their way down her face, which was red from excitement, she got off of her bed and reached for the familiar tin box under it. She pulled it out and climbed back on her bed after making sure no one else was awake, drawing her canopy around her.

She unlatched the box, and with a click, it fell open. She looked inside. There were a number of sharp objects scattered throughout it, many of them rusted over with blood. There was a tube of concealment cream, rubber bands, bandages and antiseptic. This box was her best friend, the one that she knew she could confide in, and the one that never let her down. Picking a single shiny silver razor blade that she believed had been pried out of a Muggle pencil sharpener, she rolled up the sleeve of her white, long sleeved shirt and pressed it in to the lower part of her arm, right under the inside of her elbow.

As she pressed, she bit her lip, to keep out from gasping in pain. After a minute she removed the blade from her skin and let it fall with a metallic clang into the box, taking her skin between her forefinger and her thumb and squeezing until small bubbles of blood began forming, growing and growing until they melded together to form a long straight line.

She then grabbed a piece of bandage and blotted at it until it stopped bleeding. She took the bandage off and didn't put any concealment cream on- she used that only when she absolutely needed to. She told herself it was so she didn't waste it, but really, she liked reaching up her robes, in the middle of classes, or in the middle of a family dinner, and running her fingers against the row of raised thin cuts on her arm. It was comforting. Sometimes, when something upset her, when Draco made some sort of snide comment, or when she received a bad grade on an essay, it was enough just to feel them, or to snap a rubber band across her wrist.

And then sometimes it wasn't.

Knowing she wasn't going to be getting any more sleep that night, even if it was only 3 in the morning, she rolled her sleeve down and replaced the box under her bed and went down to the Gryffindor Common Room- she needed to sit by the ever present fire and collect her thoughts. She was entirely sick of her room, her roommates that she didn't like and that cared more about talking about boys than talking about the fact that the most dangerous Dark wizard was once again rising to power.

She climbed the stairs one by one, slowly, skipping the ones that she knew creaked. As she felt the warmer floor of the Common room under her pale, bare feet, she also saw a brown head that she knew all too well. He turned around and looked at her and she smiled smally at him, not fully up to talking and wishing that Harry Potter was not the only other inhabitant of the Gryffindor Common Room. His smile quickly faded as he put his book down and went over to Ginny, touching her face gently with his forefinger.

"Ginny… have you been crying?" Ginny felt her face self consciously and realized that tears were STILL pouring from her eyes, the nightmare that was what had happened to her two years ago still fresh in her mind.

"Uh… it's nothing. Nightmare." She went and sat on the red couch, trying to stifle the tears that were still flowing freely. Damn. There usually wasn't anyone else here when she had these little… episodes. Harry went and sat next to her, looking at her intently with his intense green eyes. After a few moments of silence, with Ginny still crying, unsuccessful in her attempts to stop, she looked at him, her brown eyes boring into his.

"He's really back, isn't he?" Harry nodded. Realization washed over his face as he understood.

"Gin… has he… have your… was your nightmare about… him?" Ginny sat there staring at the fire blankly. How easy would it be to lie and say that no, she dreamt that her family died or something of that nature? But no- she couldn't. There was something in her heart that told her she couldn't lie to Harry. She nodded, biting her lip, gauging his response. He immediately moved closer to her and wrapped her in a hug.

"Ginny, no one should ever have to go through that, least of all you. I know. I know how he can haunt dreams. It's okay." With his words of comfort, unable to hold herself back, she buried herself in his chest and started sobbing. It didn't matter that she and Harry hadn't talked much recently- she needed comfort and it was what he was offering. He just held her, knowing how scary her dreams must've been. He just let her cry into him, running his hand along the back of her head and down her silky red hair.

Ginny's sobs soon subsided and her breathing became more normal, but she still kept her head resting on Harry's chest. She'd had a crush on him back when they were younger, and, secretly, it might still be there, but that's not what she was thinking as she grabbed his arm and pulled it tightly around her. She was thinking that it'd been the longest time since she'd had someone's full attention, truly had someone's shoulder to rest her head on.

Coupled with the nightmares, Ginny's life hadn't been easy as of late. She was doing poorly in school, despite the fact that Hermione helped her almost every night, her parents all but ignored her, dealing with all of their other children. Compared to all of their other kids' shenanigans, a few poor grades were the least of the Weasley parents' concerns. She was falling, failing in everything in her life, and it was as though no one was there to catch her.

It was scary.

So Harry let her stay there, his arm around her, until he heard the lapse in breath that meant she'd fallen asleep. He sighed, letting her sleep on him. And all of the sudden, a fierce anger roared in his chest. How DARE he invade Ginny's dreams? She'd never done anything to him- she was innocent. He wanted to hunt Voldemort down that very moment and kill him, without magic- just to physically beat him until he couldn't move. Harry sighed. His life ended up affecting everyone around him and he was sick of it. He looked down at Ginny's face, her sweet, innocent face, and at her tears glistening with the flicker of the fire as they dried on her face. She didn't deserve this.

Just then, Ginny stirred, still asleep, and shifted so she was almost on top of Harry, wrapping her body up like a small child's in his arms. He smiled down at her. He wanted to protect her. And if it was the last thing he did, damn it, he would protect her. Harry laid his head down on the couch- he himself had been awoken by a nightmare as well and that was why he was downstairs, and typically after a nightmare he couldn't go back to sleep, but perhaps, with this sweet smelling girl there to distract him, he'd be able to.

Harry awoke with a start a mere 20 minutes later as Ginny began to thrash and moan on the couch. As her sleeve got caught on the edge of the sofa, Harry saw a row of cuts on her arm. He looked at them questioningly and went to roll her sleeve up further, but then Ginny began to shout.

"No… no… get off of me… you aren't REAL you can't DO this… NO! NO! GET OFF OF ME! KILL ME OH GOD, KILL ME BUT DON'T DO THIS-"

But of course I can. I own you. You are giving me life. I'll defile you, I'll use you, and I'll kill you. I can do whatever I want." As Tom Riddle finished, he climbed off of her, leaving her crying on the cold cobblestone, pulling her robes back down over her legs. He'd broken her.

"Ginny! GINNY wake up!" Ginny awoke with a start and for a split second, nearly screamed as she looked into a stranger's eyes, seeing only the eyes of Tom Riddle as he took away the one thing that was hers to keep. Then, she realized it was Harry and she shuddered a sigh of relief. She looked around and all at once remembered that she was in the Common Room, come down after her first nightmare, and how Harry had held her. She flung herself into his arms, not caring what he thought, or said, or did, because the most recent dream was the most vivid of them all. Harry was a little taken aback by the extreme affection Ginny seemed to be in want of, but then again, he supposed that he could've done with arms to fling himself into when he awoke from some of his first Voldemort-inhabited dreams.

Ginny sat in Harry's lap, sobbing until there was a spot on his grey shirt soaked through with her tears and the remnants of the makeup she'd had on the day before. He stroked the back of her head, at a loss completely for what to tell her- he'd always dealt with his nightmares privately, so he hadn't the foggiest idea how to comfort Ginny. All he knew was that he wanted to strangle the man who made her like this: Tom Riddle.

For the second time that night, Ginny Weasley's tears ended and she crawled off of Harry, sitting on the other corner of the couch, hugging her legs close to her and sneaking glances at him every few minutes, always shocked when she still found his emerald green eyes boring into hers, as if he stared at her long enough, he could figure out whatever he wanted. After she was fairly sure that her voice wouldn't betray her, she spoke.

"I'm… God, I'm really sorry, Harry. This is.. I'm really sorry for this. This isn't me… I usually just deal with them. I just… wasn't expecting you to be down here." Harry looked at her inquisitively.

"What do you mean 'usually'? as in… this isn't the first night you've had nightmares? About… about him?" Harry refrained from saying Voldemort, knowing it would only upset Ginny further. After a moment's pause, she nodded her head. Harry cursed and started pacing the room. Ginny sprang up out of her seat and went over to him, putting her hands on his shoulders and staring him in the eyes.

"Harry, I mean this. Don't worry about it, okay? I have… ways of dealing with it. I know you're probably down here 'cause you have the same nightmares and you've been having them longer than me. I'll be fine, okay?" She smiled at him. "I'm so unbelievably grateful you just let me empty the past year's issues all over your shoulder, but don't worry about it… me. Okay?" With that, she kissed him softly on the cheek and went upstairs to shower and prepare for the day.

Ginny turned on the water, and got in as soon as it was warm. She turned it up higher, then, and then higher, until it literally wouldn't go up any further, and the water was leaving red burns every time it hit her skin. She knew it was probably bad, but the thing that scared Ginny Weasley was the fact that she couldn't feel the water hitting her skin.

It wasn't enough.

All of the sudden, Ginny was frantic to feel pain. The weakness, the anger, the angst, was bubbling up inside of her and it was about to explode and Ginny had no way to rid herself of it. She got out of the shower and started looking frantically for something- anything- that would open her skin. She picked at her cut from earlier that morning to no adieu. Finally she found a package of unopened shaving razors. Knowing she wouldn't be able to cut deep enough with the plastic casing, she tried to break it open to no avail. The light pink plastic taunted her as she broke nail after nail trying to open it. Finally, in the act of final desperation, she bit the casing off and let the four blades hit the floor. She grabbed one then and dragged it across her skin.

She felt nothing.

Even more frantic as she saw blood bubbling out of her arm and was still not able to feel a thing, she started rubbing the sharp blade back and fourth and back and fourth, until blood started to drip on the white tile of the bathroom floor. She felt no pain, although she was beginning to get light headed. She sat down, wrapping a towel around herself, and continued to force the blade to saw deeper into the skin of her arm until sleep overtook her.

Harry Potter sighed, head in hands, as he stared into the fire of Gryffindor Common Room, wishing he'd been better at comforting her. He looked at the couch where she'd been sitting and saw her small patch of a blanket that Harry knew she'd had since she was five. Smiling, he picked it up to return it to her, knowing she'd be frantic without it. He heard shower water running and, knowing Ginny would be the only one taking a shower at 4:30 in the morning, knocked softly on the door. With no response, he knocked a little harder.

"Ginny?" that was strange. He cautiously opened the door a crack, just enough to amplify his voice.

"Ginny?" With that, after realizing there wasn't an answer to be had, he pushed open the door and gasped aloud, dropping the blanket on the floor. A tangled mess of red hair sat in a wet pile on top of the beautiful girl's head, and she was wrapped in only a white towel. There were two things primarily wrong with the scene, however. One, the girl's eyes were closed, which wasn't quite right for someone sitting on the floor in a bathroom at 4:30 in the morning with the shower running.

The second thing was that the white towel was soaked through with blood.

After a moment of shock, Harry sprang into action. Knowing Ginny and knowing she wouldn't want to go to Madame Pomphery, and assessing the damage, he just carried her effortlessly to his dorm, where Ron was nowhere to be found. Harry suspected the involvement of Hermione, but Ron had firmly denied his accusations. Reguardless, Harry was just happy that his best friend wasn't there to see him carrying his almost naked, bloody sister upstairs. He laid her on his bed and Summoned bandages, tissues and antiseptic, and immediately began cleaning the blood off of her arm and pressing so the bleeding would stop.

It was at that point that Ginny began to reawaken. She struggled to sit up and then fell back, hitting the pillow with a thud. She looked up helplessly, clasping the towel to her chest, as she watched Harry dress her arm. Harry, the boy she'd loved- could she really say she loved him? She thought so- struggled not to cry as he dabbed antiseptic on her arm and wrapped a white bandage firmly around her arm. Ginny spoke, her voice worn and quiet from the recent tragedy.

"Harry-" but Harry left the room. He returned a minute later with a plate of toast and milk and her pile of clothes from the bathroom. The underwear was intact but the jeans and white shirt she'd been wearing since the day before, and that she'd fallen asleep in, were blood stained. Harry let out a shaky breath and finally spoke.

"Uh… I'll get you a shirt of mine that you can wear, okay? Just don't let Ron see or he'd get the wrong idea and kill us both. Well, just me, actually. So." He dug through his things until he found a hoodie with the name of a Muggle rock band on the front. He threw it to her along with a pair of sweatpants, and turned around, obviously not planning on leaving her alone for more than a second, even to change. Ginny grabbed the clothes and clumsily got them on, wincing as the sleeve of the hoodie ran over her hurt arms. She grabbed the comb that was lying on top of her clothes and combed her hair out, and through a few stray tears, finally spoke.

"You can turn around now." Harry turned to Ginny sitting on his bed, looking at him with eyes that looked as though they had bore all the pain in the world. And for all Harry knew, they had. He obviously didn't know a thing about this girl. He finally broke the silence, his voice raspy, the way men got when they were trying to appear strong.

"Just tell me why Ginny." Ginny pondered this for a moment before looking back at him, truth seeping out of her.

"I wish I knew."