2: Crash Into Me

"I don't see why you need to know." Ginevra felt her toes curl, her pupils constrict in fear, but her face remained dead, her small form frozen.

Draco observed her silently, missing no small detail. Weasley was a frightened little girl. Blaise joined the conversation, curious, "Where are Potter, Granger and male-Weasley? I assume they are sharing this carriage with you."

"No." She decided to keep her answers short. These men were far too perceptive for her liking. "No, they aren't."

"Why?" Blaise probed.

"I don't know."

"Why don't you know?"

"Because I don't."

"You aren't going to tell us anything are you?"

"No."

Draco sighed, "Stop Blaise. Weasley, we will leave you be."

"If you want the carriage you can have it."

"No. You were here first." With a nod, Draco left.

Blaise turned to follow, but twisted around once more to the small form of the young Sixth year. "Weasley, why were you on the floor?" His eyes pierced through her, distanced and curious.

"Because that is where I always am. On the floor." She did not know why she had answered; maybe his eyes had hypnotized her.

Blaise nodded, a friendly gesture, rather than the curt dismissal that Draco favored, "I know that feeling. Goodbye Weasley."

As Blaise left the carriage, Ginevra slid once more to the floor.

No one could understand this.

Seconds ticked by. Minutes ticked by. Hours ticked by.

"Ginny, what the hell? Get off the bloody floor! We are at Hogwarts."

"I'm coming Ron."

"About bloody time."

-----

Sitting on the floor of the astronomy tower, staring at the stars with unseeing eyes.

If I were to die where would I go? And if I did go somewhere, what would the thing that would 'go' be? My soul, perhaps; the thing that looks out from behind my eyes. If my soul doesn't have eyes would it be able to physically see things, if my flesh didn't contain it? Would I wander aimlessly watching others move on, or go to a different dimension where souls go?

Ginevra thought about death often. The word itself meant nothing, it was the implications it brought to mind that were important. Why she thought these thoughts, she didn't know. At least, that is what she told herself.

You know why you think these things.

She screwed her eyes shut as she tried to drown her thoughts out. All she wanted was white noise. Blissful, mindless and peaceful white noise.

"Weasley, it's after curfew." It was that voice again, the voice full of comforting void, no emotion at all.

"Yes."

Please keep talking.

"Five points deducted from Gryffindor. Now go back to your dorm."

"May I stay? You've already taken points." Ginevra couldn't help it; she looked up, searching for the eyes that helped numb her thoughts.

Those beautiful doe eyes stared up at him, imploringly, expecting an immediate denial. Expecting? It was pitiful, for one to be conditioned to expect denial of even the smallest thing.

"Yes. You may." Draco said deliberately, studying her face.

Surprise flitted across her face briefly, then, a slight upward curve of her lip showed her thankfulness. "Thank you Draco."

He had made her smile. It took so little to make her happy. Sad. Silently, he sat down on the cold stone floor, about four feet away from her. She made no move to talk, nor did he. Instead she drew strength from the numbness he always brought with him, enjoying the beauty of the stars for the first time that night. Draco wondered why he had felt compelled to sit down. Weasley was of no importance to him. Only Blaise mattered, and himself of course. It felt surprisingly easy to make someone else happy. Someone who had a look in her eyes much like his mothers'. He winced inwardly.

Her eyes flicked over to his, as if sensing the inner thoughts that were plaguing his normally indifferent mind.

Time to go.

"Go to bed Weasley." Draco couldn't suppress his edgy tone; her strange awareness of his change in thought was unnerving.

She nodded slowly, stumbling slightly as she stood. Without realizing it, Draco moved swiftly to her side, steadying her. As his hand closed about her arm he could almost feel her very flesh physically shrink away from his touch.

"I'm fine." Ginevra could hear the hysteria in her voice, as she tried to escape.

"Calm down Weasley. Merlin, relax, I'm not going to hurt you."

He released her arm slowly, trying to get a look at her face. There was only one word to describe it. Terror.

Why Weasley? What makes you so afraid? Or is it, who makes you so afraid?

Ginevra's lower lip trembled, her entire frame shook with the violence of her shudders as she sought to control herself, "Yyyes.. I know. I'm going to bbbedd. Goodnight Mm..m..malfoy."

"Draco."

"Wwhat?"

"You called me Draco earlier, Weasley."

"Oh." With that she flashed away, running full speed down the stairs.

Draco dusted his robes off, his mind was confused, he didn't like the feeling. Indifference was a safe place to be. It was time to find Blaise; he needed his lover to keep him sane. He paused as a soft whisper came up the stairwell.

"Goodnight… Draco." Her voice was small and unsure.

The shadows played on his face, white flashed in the dark as a small smile graced his face, one of the first for anyone other than Blaise in a long time, as he would later recall.

"Goodnight Ginevra."

A squeak of surprise echoed, then soft footsteps hurried away.

Why am I so bloody strange when I am around her?

-----

"Ginny, I have no idea why are you so bloody daft sometimes. Harry and Hermione don't want you hanging about like an annoying puppy. I don't want you around either. So leave us the bloody hell alone."

Ginevra sighed as she stared at her brother's bright red face. "Yes Ron."

His eyes rolled, accustomed to her monosyllabic answer. "You've said yes before, but this time, if you don't leave me alone I'm going to write Mum."

She felt her body locking down. "I promise I won't. I'll stay away."

Ron stared at her, disconcerted by his sister's sudden anxiety, "Err… Relax Gin, I won't. Mum wouldn't do anything anyway, you are her precious Gin-Gin! I bet you ten Sickles she would send a howler straight to me." He grinned at her, his wide artless expression sending a lighting bolt straight into her heart.

What I would give to be able to smile like that.

Ginevra raised the corners of her lips, hating herself as she let him push her in circles.

"No offense Gin, but a wizard needs his space and his own friends. Can't do it if his little sister is hanging about," He shrugged his shoulders, encouraged by his sister's answering smile. "But if you ever need help kicking someone's ass then you just give me a shout, I love you Gin-Gin." He ruffled her hair lightly then pivoted on his heel as he spotted bushy brown hair flash around the corner. "Hey Mione!"

"Interesting discussion. Sorry, couldn't help but overhear."

She felt a large warm hand pull her toward the source of the melodious voice. "Zabini?"

"Draco told me you called him by his first name. Now why am I still on last name basis with you, Ginevra?" Moss green eyes bore into her, a trace of amusement flashed before returning to the indifferent mask which all Slytherins' wore.

She replied tentatively, "I don't know." Everything about him is so warm, so safe and comforting; the polar opposite of Draco, yet so alike.

"Well, I would appreciate it if you didn't make it quite so obvious you prefer him over me. It injures my delicate pride." His tone was mocking, but somehow she knew he meant to be gentle.

"You are strangely engaging for a Slytherin." Ginevra almost slapped herself, where did that come from?

He smirked, delighted, "Draco tells me the same, constantly."

"I tell you what, mon amour?" [my love] A pale hand brushed the side of Blaise's neck, Ginevra stared, entranced.

"That I continually ruin the Slytherin image of detachment."

"Yes. You do."

"Weasley a eu une conversation avec sa soeur avant que j'aie révélé." [Weasley had a conversation with his sister before I showed up]

"Détails plus tard." [Details later]

"Oui." [Yes]

Almost imperceptibly Draco's right brow lifted. Ginevra watched their exchange curiously, unaware that her pert mouth had fallen open in admiration. "That was beautiful."

Draco would have laughed in her face, but he wasn't a person with a laughing temperament. "You have a refreshing choice of words, Ginevra." His voice was light.

Both men stared as they saw her cheeks flush a pale pink, finding it delightful, neither could remember the last time they had seen a woman blush.

"Vous avez oublié que mon sang est pur. Je peux parler français comme vous deux pouvez." [You forgot my blood is pure. I can speak French as well as you can.]

It was the first time she had spoken the language aloud in almost five years. When they didn't reply, she became nervous. Did I cross a line? Being with them both was too much for her to bear. The numbness Draco brought helped her forget all the pain, and then Blaises' warmth enveloped her in a tender cocoon. I have to get away.

"J'ai classe. Au revoir." [I have class. Goodbye.]

Still blown away by the melodious flow of flawless French that had been issued from her delicate lips, Draco and Blaise didn't answer. Taking this as a sign of dismissal, Ginevra fled.

"We need to talk. We need to understand this urge to help her."

Draco merely nodded, his finger tangled absently in Blaises' raven curls.

"Why the bloody fuck do we care?' Blaise stared at Draco, hoping to find an answer on his face.

No such luck.

"I have no bloody idea."