Disclaimer: Everything that you recognize is not mine. *big sigh* Alas, tis all JK Rowling's. Damn genius.

A/N: This song, "Pretty Girl" by Sugarcult, was stuck in my head. (it's such a great song! Go download it if you haven't heard it already!) And unfortunately, I'm in the middle of writing the first chapter of my soon-to-be Draco/Hermione story. But I needed to incorporate this song somewhere! So all you D/G fans (I myself ship mainly D/G!) get a quick little ficcy by me. *g* Heh. Enioyish!

Pretty Girl:

A D/G Ficlet

"Pretty girl is suffering, while he confesses everything

Pretty soon she'll figure out what his intentions were about.

And that's what you get for falling again, you can never get him out of your head.

She's beautiful as usual, with bruises on her ego and

Her killer instincts tell her to be aware of evil men.

And that's what you get for falling again, you can never get him out of your head."

­               -"Pretty Girl" by Sugarcult

       She was falling in the dark, grasping at something that wasn't there. Stumbling along a once golden path, turned brown with age. Her love for him was too powerful. She was slipping into the crashing, tumultuous river, roaring as it pulled her apart. The frothing waves slapped against her, yelling at her, pushing her under. Piercing water pushed its way into her lungs as she gasped for breath. Her footing was lost, and she was floating through that watery hell. Her hands were reaching up through the water towards the light. All I want is freedom!, her thoughts called out. Her heart was giving out…I can feel it now!

Yeah, her love for him was like that. A dangerous river, and she was drowning in it slowly day by day. She could only hope that one day, one bittersweet day, she wouldn't get out of the water, and that never-ending pain of hers finished her once and for all.

Back when she honestly thought he had loved her back, it was glorious. She couldn't get enough of him. Her heart soared every time that she woke up in his arms, to feel him around her, whispering her name softly in her ear. "Ginny…" Her mind tingled from his voice. It was an addictive drug, and it got too powerful for her.

But now he was sitting in front of her, wearing that sad, knowing expression once more. Oh Harry, she thought, you are so transparent. She knew what he was going to say before he said it. He barely needed to open his mouth. And then it all came tumbling out. How he had never really loved her, he just thought he did, how he had been blinded by lust, and wouldn't it be much better now that they could be with who they were really meant for? For Harry, it meant he could be with Hermione. Who they were really meant for…what did that mean for Ginny? Nothing. She was meant for him, dammit! The tears came, faster and faster, uncontrollable.

       Oh Ginny, silly, stupid little Ginny. He was almost patronizing when he lapped pity on her. No no, we were never meant to be, you'll get over me, you'll see.

But she couldn't. She wouldn't. Yet a spiteful little part of her heart called out to her conscience. He's right, you know. You were suffocating with him. She had had enough. She stood up on shaking legs. She managed to tell him that yes, he was right, he was always right. And then she fled.

Her body shook ferociously as she cried quietly to herself, sitting down by the lake. She had a tendency to bathe in her own pain, and that was precisely what she was doing. He never loved me, her mind yelled to nobody. He was using me. Using me! She pushed down on the bruises on her ego harder and harder with these thoughts, finally letting out a shriek of anguish and pain, only for it to be muffled by her own hands.

Long, delicate fingers came down on to her head, stroking her hair softly, calming her down. Her tear-stained face turned up. And there he was.

She had been involved in a fierce on and off game of word dodge-ball with him for the past year and a half. He would insult her, she would insult him back, so on and so forth. Then there was that time last year when he had told her that the madness he brought out of her was attractive. And she kissed him. Well, she had started dating Harry right after that, so she and Draco simply resumed their violent game of dodge-ball, each trying to hurt each other as much as possible.

But now he was comforting her, instead of laughing at her misfortune. Why? What good was it to be nice to someone you could barely stand?

He shrugged. "Because I'm the only one who's allowed to cause you pain."

She chuckled at that, and that turned in to laughter. Soon she was doubled over. Her laughs were infectious, and caught on to him, too. How strange it was to think that someone as horrible as Draco Malfoy would be able to keep her sane.

She stopped laughing and looked up at him. Before she could start thinking too much, he captured her chin with those beautiful fingers and lifted her mouth to his. Warning bells went off in Ginny's head; her instincts had always been right, and at the moment they were screaming for her not to get mixed up with Draco Malfoy. Certainly no good could come of it! He was evil, he was bad. Oh, shove it, she told her instincts.

The end of the year

       It had been Shangri-La, for the while it lasted. Their hate towards each other was only matched by their lust, that insufferable need to touch each other. But now it was the night before they left, and he would be graduating. And once again, she was on the line, waiting to hear words she dreaded, but that she knew would come.

       I can't see you again. It was a simple sentence, but the way he said it was so fucking calm, so terribly cold, that it sent slivers of ice into her heart. You knew this would happen. I'm not like you. Could you imagine bringing me home to your parents? He let out a cold, sarcastic chuckle. No, that could never happen. I'm bad. You're…well, you're good. Too good for me.

       Why?, she shouted at him. Tears were clouding her vision, and then she was hitting him, over and over with curled fists. Why does everything always have to be so damn black and white for you? Why can't you let it just be gray for once?

       He stopped her pounding fists, pulling her arms around his waist, her head on his chest. Because that's just the way it is. God, don't cry, Pretty Girl. You're killing me.

       She recoiled from him as if she had been slapped. "You've already killed me."

       And then she left, and that was the end.

Years later

       It had been many years since she had last seen him, but his ghost still haunted her. She didn't have a heart left. She used to have fragments of one, but then she had been on the battle line and seen him on the opposing team. He had looked away from her. And that's when her heart died completely.

       It was never love. Or maybe it was, but Ginny doubted it. Yet it was a powerful connection.

       So she did this. Owned a bar. It was pathetic, but she made her livings. That was all that mattered anymore.

       A hand of a dark stranger caught her wrist. She turned around. And there he was.

       "I'm sorry, Pretty Girl."

       That was enough. She had found a reason to live again. She had found her way to his arms.

FINIS

A/N: *cough* Right. It was sort of clichéd, but I needed to write it. The song itself is much better than my fic. ;) This wasn't that great, but again, it was sort of slapped together in a writing fury. Thanks to my great beta-reader, Tinkerbell, (D'Arcy) for correcting me on some things. (this is an updated/beta'd version, btw.)