Throw It All Away, Chapter Four
This feeling's back today
It's so deceiving, like it's never leaving…
Ginny had been seeing Draco for three months when the Halloween party rolled around. By that time, Ron and Hermione had seen the light and begun dating, to much of the relief of the rest of the Hogwarts student body.
Except for two people, who were rather put out by the whole ordeal.
Ginny and Draco were put out for the simple fact that neither one of them took much pleasure in catching her brother and Hermione swapping spit samples. Not that Ron and Hermione snogged in public – they were very clandestine about it. They waited until Hermione had to take care of her Head Girl patrolling for the evening, and Ron would follow her.
He didn't know that his sister was sneaking around with the Head Boy.
Draco figured it must be a Weasley thing – they must be attracted to people in positions of power.
Ginny had nearly slugged him when he'd said it to her.
She continued to have panic attacks, and to her dismay, they were getting closer and closer together. Thankfully, the Dream Team hadn't been around for any of them. Draco had walked in on her having one in the Prefects' bathroom last week, but other than that, he hadn't seen them, either.
It was a comfort to know that if she couldn't prevent them, at least she didn't have them in front of people.
Harry still hadn't noticed that she wasn't responding to him in bed. It wasn't that she wanted him to notice, really; it just surprised her that he was so wrapped up in satisfying himself that he didn't. And now, of course, she was expected to go to the Halloween party with him, and laugh, and eat, and pretend to have fun.
She refused to do it.
It was an inner refusal, but a refusal all the same. She would not eat their sweets. One whiff of the dessert table made her feel nauseated. One look at dinner made her stomach turn. All she could choke down was a buttered roll.
And even that took effort.
Same as yesterday
As the pressure's mounting, I continue counting…
Across the room, Draco watched her. Students had gotten up and started dancing to the music that was playing loudly in the room, but she remained sitting by Potter. For some reason, tonight, it infuriated Draco to see her sitting serenely by his side.
Especially since he knew that she was nowhere near being serene.
He had been watching her for the past three months. He watched how no one ever stopped to ask how she was doing, or why she was slowly wasting away in front of them. No one ever made a point to tell her to eat something. No one ever noticed the hollowness of her laughter. No one ever offered to escort her anywhere to make sure she was safe.
Of course, the irony of that last thought hit him with full force.
She wasn't safe.
Not as long as she kept coming to him.
He hadn't told her, but he hadn't slept with anyone else in the three months they'd been cavorting. He knew that she was still sleeping with Potter, but the thought didn't bother him as much as it probably should have. It was painfully obvious that Potter wasn't satisfying her, since a lot of nights she came to him still smelling of sex.
Why the hell didn't anyone pay attention to her? She was dying right in front of them.
And why the hell did he care?
Ginny watched her brother twirling Hermione around on the dance floor. Hermione's cheeks were flushed, and she looked lovelier than Ginny could ever remember seeing her. She knew what it was. It was something she didn't have.
Happiness.
She wasn't happy. She didn't love Harry, and she was quickly approaching the point of loathing him. Not that it was his fault – he couldn't help it that she was spineless. If she had been strong at all, she would have just told him no, and then none of this would be happening.
He turned to ask her to dance, but thankfully, that was the moment that Susan Bones chose to approach him and ask for his hand. He didn't even glance at Ginny to see if it would be alright with her.
Then again, that didn't matter, either.
Her eyes wandered over the room, unconsciously scanning the crowd for the top of his white-blonde head. When she found it, she was surprised to find him watching her. She kept his gaze, waiting for his date to poke her pug-face in the way.
To her great surprise, he appeared to have come alone.
That wasn't to say that he was going to leave alone, though. She watched as several girls approached and asked him to dance, only to fail miserably and be graced with one of his trademark glares. She waited until he looked away from her, turning his attention to one of his groupies, and she stood.
She walked steadily towards the entrance to the Great Hall, hoping to make a quiet escape from everyone, and wanting nothing more than to lie down in her big, soft bed.
Oh, how desperately she wanted that.
It wasn't meant to be.
She was walking along the wall when it happened. Her chest felt like someone was sitting on it, cutting off the air to her lungs. She could feel the sweat break out on her brow, and felt the blood rushing from her head. She clamped a hand over her mouth, sure she was going to be sick.
Draco turned to see that she was no longer in her seat. He looked around, wondering if she'd actually gotten up to dance, and simultaneously knowing that she hadn't. He spotted her just as the blood drained from her face and her eyes rolled back in her head. Before he could stop to think about the consequences of what he was about to do, he bolted across the room.
He almost made it.
Her head hit the floor with a soft thunk. Someone nearby uttered a soft scream. Thankfully not very many people turned around.
Shit.
Potter had.
Draco picked her arm up and took her pulse. It was racing wildly. Damn these people that she called friends! They should have made her eat. They should have noticed that she was losing weight. They should have done a lot of things, in his esteemed opinion.
'What the hell do you think you're doing, Malfoy?' Potter raged, making his way over to them. Draco placed her hand gently on her chest and stood, giving him a cold look.
'I was checking to make sure she wasn't dead, Potter.'
'Hmph,' he muttered, bending over her. He pushed the hair off of her forehead and frowned. He looked up at Draco accusingly. 'What spell did you hit her with?'
'I didn't hit her with anything,' he said. By now a crowd had gathered around them, hoping to see another epic battle between the boys. They'd never failed to deliver before.
'The hell you didn't! She's as pale as a ghost, and she's shaking!'
'She had a panic attack, Potter,' he said quietly. He'd said it so quietly that only Harry could hear him. Harry's eyes widened, and he glanced down at her before eyeing Malfoy suspiciously.
'I don't believe you.'
'Fine. Don't believe me. Just let her lie down. It will pass in a few minutes.' With that, he made his way back to the corner of the room he'd been occupying before. Harry stared after him, then looked down at Ginny, whose eyelids had begun to flutter open.
'What happened?' she breathed, sitting up. She shook her head, gathering her thoughts, and dread filled her stomach as she realized what had happened. What other cause would there be for her to be lying on the floor? Harry stared at her.
'I think you need to go to the hospital wing,' he said. She nodded, not feeling like fighting. He helped her to the hospital wing and stayed long enough to find out whether or not she'd be staying overnight.
When Madam Pomfrey said yes, he dropped a kiss on Ginny's forehead and left.
She knew something was going on.
Harry had never just up and left her side so easily before. She stared after him in surprise.
She laid her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes, hoping against hope that Madam Pomfrey would administer a sleeping draught that made it impossible to dream. Instead, she was startled when the door to the infirmary opened, and Draco strode in, his black robes billowing around him. He stalked up to her bed with a deadly gleam in his eye.
'Why the hell didn't you tell him, so he could help you?' She stared at him.
'Tell who what?'
'Don't play games with me. You know damn good and well what I'm talking about.' She sighed and closed her eyes, leaning back on the pillow.
'No one can help me. I can't stop them. I don't even know what started them. I just have to figure out a way to deal with them.'
'And what happens the next time you take a bath and have one, and slip under the water and no one's there to save you?' She turned to look at him, and her eyes were so blank that it sent a shiver down his spine.
'Then I guess the problem will have taken care of itself, won't it?'
'You know I'm not going to help you. Why don't you tell someone who can?'
'I don't want help, and I don't need it. I'm fine.'
'You don't need help,' he echoed flatly. She shook her head and pulled the cover up to her neck, which he promptly yanked away. Her eyes flew open and she glared at him. He grasped a fragile wrist in his hand and held her arm up in the air. 'You can honestly look at yourself and tell me that you don't need help?'
'Yes.'
'Bullshit,' he dropped her, and she bit down on the inside of her cheek.
'You're not going to save me, Draco.' He stared at her one more time before turning and heading towards the door. When he turned, he saw Madam Pomfrey giving her a vial full of bright blue liquid.
'The hell I'm not,' he muttered, disappearing through the door.
