Disclaimer: I, unfortunately, don't own Harry Potter or any of its characters (but I'm going to use them anyway : D )

The night was dark, shadows glided across the cracks of the brick wall. Twenty five, twenty six, twenty seven. Draco meticulously counted the small signs of breakage along the wall opposite to him. He wondered if the cracks were indicators of an unstable foundation, an unstable magic.

"Thirty – two…" Ginny caught the tail end of Draco's whispered accounts.

"You can't be serious, what in the world could you be counting?" Ginny sighed in annoyance as Draco merely glanced up at her, his eyes dead, cold in their emptiness.

"Whatever, as prefect it is my duty to take House points away from you." Her threat was laced with a sense of smugness, brought out by her family loyalties. His only response was to scoff lightly, brushing his hands roughly against the cold concrete beneath him. The action skinned his hands, but they did not bleed; so he pushed them harder, in anger, agony, and emptiness. Ginny's posture, previously upright and confident, slumped, her righteous triumph deflated at his effete mood. Rolling her sapphire eyes, she dropped into a seated position across from the aggrieved blonde.

"So what is it? What's your problem?" Ginny's voice was flippant but inside she felt the beginning stirring of genuine concern. Confused, she shook off the feelings of sympathy for her long time enemy.

"Nothing. It's none of your business." Cruel and quiet, his venomous words struck Ginny, bullets of anger and concern coursed through her.

"Oh please, don't take that tone with me. I find you hiding in the astronomy tower, away from you cronies, the day before you get to leave to go home for Christmas. Instead of celebrating with your fellow Slytherins, you're alone, nearly crying. What, tired of the mudblood jokes? No first years to torture for one last pre-Christmas laugh?"

"Shut up!" Draco slammed his already bloody fist against the harsh concrete.

"What did you do to yourself?" It was no longer just strings of concern floating through Ginny, they had become full blown worries. "Aren't you excited to be leaving here? You get to go back to the comfort of your mansion away from blood traitors and the like?"

"You know nothing, little Weasley. But since it's Christmas, and I'm in such a generous mood, I'll give you a little insight. Don't expect to understand; don't expect to comprehend the complexities of my and other Slytherins' lives. You couldn't. It's too far from your "perfect" reality filled with family and 'love'." He spit out the last word with disgust and disbelief. That anyone could actually believe love can exist.

"My perfect reality? Your hard existence? What are you on? My family can barely support itself! My books belonged to my brother Bill, my robes - vintage. And not store bought vintage, but my mother's, back from her school days. She slaved over these old pieces of rags to make me something that I'm not practically falling out of! How can you talk about hard lives? You've had everything handed to you on a silver platter! New clothes, best brooms, great opportunities. House elves do your work for you and all you have to do is bow down to some miscreant of a "lord".

A bitter and cold caterwaul was released from Draco's throat and it took Ginny a moment to realize it was a laugh, or at least some mutated form of one.

"Tell me, with all this poverty in your family and life, are you happy? Do you have love?"

"Of course, I have my family. I can be happy without money."

"So why can you be happy without money, but because I'm rich there's no way I could be anything but happy?" Spite and anger seared through Draco's words, for which Ginny had no answers. "Money means nothing to me. It is the one comfort I am afforded and it is too easily taken away from me to give it any merit. You say all Slytherins are evil and prejudicial, that we judge. Well take a nice hard look at yourself, miss. You condemn us all, for what? For having a snake on our badges and monsters as parents? You give us no chance, no justification. You hate without truly knowing."

"No, that's not.."

"Stop! You think we don't hear you? I do. I hear you call Pansy a slut, a whore for being with as many guys as she can. But do you know why? Do you know how old she was when she lost her virginity? If I said fifteen she'd be a slut, if I said fourteen you wouldn't be able to believe how early a prostitute starts. But what if I said five? What would you call her then? What would you say if her first time was because her father wanted to close a difficult business deal? What if the only reason she sleeps with people now, is because it's the only time she knows she can choose who she's with? That she knows when she gets home it's lay there and shut up." Ginny stood aghast at the end of this tirade. Her whole body was shaking in the presence of his rage and upset.

"I didn't know." Ginny whispered through her tears.

"I know you didn't and that almost proves my point. Your Order spends its time condemning the cruelty of our parents, and then are shocked when they find out they are abusive to their children. What do you think, there's some switch? They're tormentors to the public and are suddenly sweet and caring to us? We are heirs, nothing more."

"Draco," Ginny's voice was soft as she pleaded, "Why haven't you said anything, to anyone? Dumbledore would never have allowed this if he had known, we would have helped you."

"We are not loyal to Dumbledore because he will not help us. He notices the problems in the students' lives that he deems worthy. He preaches inter-house relations, yet cannot seem to reach out towards a Slytherin. He either can't see the problem or he ignores it. My father has beaten me every night since I was four. Every time Potter beats me in quidditch, every time Hermione gets a higher grade than me, every time I enter a room without his permission. I still remember every Crucio, every swing of his belt, every crack of his cane. I can give you proof, do you want to see?" With that Draco unbuttoned his shirt, slowly as to give her time to leave. The silk of his customary black shirt slid off his shoulders, revealing a patchwork of faded white scars. Ginny wanted to turn away, hide her face from the evidence of Draco's tragic childhood. She couldn't; she couldn't fail Draco as so many others had in the past. She walked towards him apprehensively and slid his shirt down to his elbows. She couldn't believe that the marks were still visible against the pure paleness of his skin. Her fingers hesitantly brushed over the barely raised scars that marred his alabaster skin. Draco raised his hands and placed them over Ginny's delicate ones. Her eyes drawn and red rimmed, Ginny released her hand from his grasp and gently stroked his cheek.

"So what happens now? Now that I know, I can't let you go, you can't go home, you can't." Ginny's voice trembled with genuine concern, concern that prior to this she would never have imagined she would have felt. She could only imagine what her family would say if they knew she was practically sitting on a half-naked Draco Malfoy. However, that was the last thought of her family that entered her mind as she needed her full focus on the issue at hand.

"I don't know." His voice was soft, but she could still detect the strain of fear and emotion in it. "You know now, you know something I thought I would never tell a 'Light' person, let alone a Weasley. I don't have that many options. I can't just leave, I have a mother to think of, I have friends who are in the same position I am. The real question is what will you do, now that you know?" Ginny contemplated the question, leaving her in silence for a good five minutes. The deafening silence dragged on for so long, that Draco opened his mouth to relieve her when she spoke.

"I don't know what to do, but I know what I'm not going to do. I'm not going to leave you. You have someone now, you have someone who cares."