I'm kinda surprised that it's taken me so long to actually write a HP story, but here it is. My favorite ship!(: I apologize for the slight violence—only God knows why I had such a, well, disturbing idea floating around in my head. But there it was, and here it now is!

The moment his hands closed around her neck, Ginny knew she was in a lot deeper than she had originally thought. Sure, she had sort of noticed the way he had kept cropping up in random places around the school whenever she was there—but she had just figured he had classes there or something, ignoring the nagging feeling of how she had never seen him there before, despite the fact he was always staring directly at her.

She had just been leaving the Transfiguration classroom—she had asked McGonagall a question she had forgotten during class—when it happened. She had been walking down the hallway, rummaging through her school-bag, when he had grabbed her, shoving her roughly against the wall. Ginny's head had smacked against the stone wall, causing her to see stars.

"You," Goyle growled, his normally dull eyes glinting with an unrecognizable emotion. "You won't get away from me again." With that, he had shoved her harder—and started kissing her neck, the tips of his fingers digging painfully into her arms. Without warning, Goyle's hands left her, and for a split second, Ginny thought she was free—but then they were back, clutching fistfuls of her fiery hair, ripping at her scalp. His body pressed against hers so hard it was suffocating her, each breath she drew short and ragged. Her mind was racing, trying to figure how to get herself the hell out of this mess. She was no match for his strength, and her wand was in her bag, laying discarded on the floor. In fact, the only part of her body that she could freely move were her legs—and move them she did.

There was a soft thud as Ginny wrenched her knee up and dug it into some part of Goyle—by the way his knees buckled and the way the hiss of pain was realized, she guessed it might have been his knee joint.

"You little bitch—" That was when his hands had found her neck. Ginny choked, her hands finding his. She yanked as hard as she could, but was unable to loosen his grip. Black spots had started edging into her line of vision as she gasped for breath like a fish out of water, gripping to her consciousness with her remaining strength. Goyle's one hand held her throat to the wall, while his other traveled down. . . .down. . . .Ginny braced herself for his crude fingers, a flash of white in her line of vision, just as everything went black.

~x~

The first thing Draco saw as he rounded the corner was a flash of a dark, burnt orange. As he processed the images in front of him, they blurred into focus—

"Goyle?"

The Weasley girl—Ginny—was pressed against the wall, held in place by his "friend"'s large chest. His silver eyes made contact with her chocolate brown ones just before they rolled back into her head. Draco felt sick as Goyle stepped away from her, her limp body slumping to the flagstone floor.

"—busy, Draco. . ." Draco just caught the end of the sentence Goyle was grunting.

"I can see that, Goyle, but Snape needs you. Ranting and raving about how you skipped your Remedial Potions tonight. You need to go. Now." Draco's voice had an unusually hard edge as he lied. Snape hadn't been raving, exactly, just fuming in his silent way, and he had hissed to Draco to go find the missing boy. And Draco, knowing the extent of influence the Potions master had on his father and family, had gone.

Goyle gave a non-committal grunt and waddled away down the hallway. Draco's initial surprise at how easily he left vanished the second his eyes landed on the unconscious girl lying at his feet. Her hair lay in a spray around her smooth, pale face, and Draco's stomach lurched. He had started noticing the ginger girl more and more lately—mainly because she had been moved up to his Potions class, but also at meal times and in the corridors. Ginny had a sweet, personable aura around her, but with an unmistakable ring of power. She was feisty, Draco knew, and—oh Godric—was she hot. He had noticed it at the start of the school year—it was like she transformed over the summer, from girl to woman. Unfortunately, so had the rest of the boys in the school.

But now, looking at her spread-eagle on the floor, Draco felt desperate and compassionate at the same time. He had to help her, he had to, he just had no idea how. Part of him wanted to run and find a teacher, but who knew what kind of sticky questions would come to that—not to mention his father would kill him if he got Goyle in any sort of trouble, not with the war this close at hand. So Draco was on his own.

Kneeling beside the motionless girl, Draco pulled his wand from his pocket. He had seen his father once use a spell to awaken one of the Dark Lord's victims after being tortured for questioning. Pointing his wand at her, Draco cleared his mind and internally begged the spell to work.

"Ennervate." The word was a hoarse whisper as it fell out of his mouth. Ginny gasped, sucking air in through her mouth, and her dark eyelashes fluttered. "Ginny? Can you hear me?" His tone was husky and deep.

"M-Malfoy?" Ginny blinked rapidly, stuttering slightly. With difficulty, she propped herself up on an elbow, trembling. Suddenly, recent events came rushing back to her, and she scuttled away from him as fast as her sore body could manage. "D-don't come any closer!" Her voice quavered and she curled up against the wall, hugging her knees to her chest, her eyes wide with fear.

Draco sighed. "Please, call me Draco." He stood and took a tentative step towards her. "Are—are you alright?"

Ginny shivered. "I said don't come any closer!" A flicker of her old fighting fire appeared in her eyes.

"Look, I sent Goyle off and woke you—I just want to know if you're okay."

Ginny blanched. "You did?"

"Yeah."

Ginny looked at him, her eyes seeming to penetrate his very being, as if reading exactly what he was thinking. Draco blinked, unsure. After a moment, Ginny nodded slowly. "Thank. . .thank you."

"Trust me, you would have done the same if you had seen it happening. Now, are you okay?"

"I think so." Ginny touched her neck lightly, wincing. Draco noticed for the first time the solid ring of purple bruises around her throat, where Goyle had shut off her windpipe. Anger bubbled up inside him. How could he have done something like that? Sick bastard. The next time he saw him—

"Do. . .do you think he would have actually done it? You know, actually. . .r-ra—" Ginny looked pained, unable to get the word out.

Draco shook his head slowly. "I have no idea."

Ginny let out a tiny sigh and tried to heft herself to her feet, her arms shaking and legs wobbly. Without thinking, Draco was by her side, abandoning all precaution. He gently wrapped an arm around her waist, lifting her into a standing position. She looked up, and for a moment, they stood like that, standing so close together he could feel her chest rising and falling, their eyes locked and their lips just a breath apart.

"Ginny—"

"I should be getting back." Her voice cut in softly, almost afraid to break the moment, the silence.

He took a half-step back rather abruptly. "Right, I—" Draco swallowed. "You should probably have Granger look at those bruises. . . .I'd bet she knows a healing spell."

Ginny nodded. "Draco?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

He met her gaze steadily, unflinching. "Anytime." His eyes flicked down the hall. "You sure you don't need help getting back to the common room?"

"Yeah, it's just up those steps."

"Oh." He had been half-wishing she'd accept his help, but he should have known better. "Right. I guess I'll see in class, then." He gave her what he hoped was a smile and turned to go.

"Wait." The single word reached out and turned him back around to face her. She stepped forward and stood rather shakily on her tip-toes, pressing her lips softly against his cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow." With that, she set off slowly down the corridor, hoisting her bag to her shoulder.

A half-smile playing on his lips, Draco started walking in the opposite direction, towards his own common room and dormitory. His fingertips found the spot on his cheek where she had been just mere moments before. Yes, he would most definitely see her tomorrow.

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