"Ginny?" Hermione called, knocking lightly on the door. "Ginny, can I come in?"

There was no reply, so Hermione tried to handle. It was locked. She whispered the simple charm and tried again, this time succeeding. She stepped inside and looked around cautiously. Ginny's trunk lay open on the floor, her things tossed about the room. She scanned the five beds and found that the room was vacant. Hearing a soft noise emanating from the washroom, she opened the door quietly.

"Ginny!" she exclaimed, throwing the door open. The redhead sat with her back against the bathtub, completely naked, knees tucked up to her chest. Blood flowed from fresh cuts on her forearms and biceps, cascading down her sides to pool around her on the tiled floor.

Hermione rushed to Ginny's side, snatched the razor from her pale, limp fingers. She went to her trunk and fished out a small vial of purple liquid. She opened Ginny's mouth and poured the potion down her throat. It was a Revival Potion, meant to help her get her strength back. While waiting for the potion to take effect, Hermione cleaned the blood using a simple cleaning charm and began bandaging her up.

"Hermione….wha-?" Ginny mumbled, her eyelids fluttering open.

"Shh, Ginny, it's okay," Hermione soothed. "Can you stand?"

Ginny moved her feet lethargically, concentrating all her energy on standing. After several minutes, she let her head fall back against the bathtub. "Sorry…can't…"

"It's all right," Hermione said quickly. "I need to get you to the infirmary."

The older girl thought for a moment, knowing she could not lift Ginny on her own. She stood and quickly went out of the room, down the staircase and over to where Harry and Ron sat, reading.

"Harry, Ron," she whispered, her gaze flickering to few other students in the room. "I need your help."

*****

"What the hell was she thinking?!" Ron shouted fifteen minutes later. He paced angrily back and forth in front of the closed and locked infirmary doors. He and Harry had carried Ginny to Madam Pomfrey, who had taken one look at her and banished the boys to the hall. Hermione was inside, explaining to the nurse what had happened.

Harry did not reply. He was almost completely numb. What could have caused her to do such a thing to herself? Ginny was the most fierce, loyal, adventurous, strong-willed person Harry had ever met. Whatever—or whoever—had caused her to injure herself in such a fashion must have either incredible magical powers, or have such an emotional attachment to her that-

Harry jumped up from his seat against the wall.

"Malfoy," he said angrily. Ron stopped mid-rant to stare at him.

"What about him?" Ron inquired dumbly, his mind still on his sister.

"He did this to her," Harry murmured, and he knew with sudden certainty that it was the truth.

"Where is the bloody bastard?!" Ron shouted. "I'll kill him! I swear I bloody will!"

"What in the world has got you so worked up, Weasley?" A silky smooth and all-too-familiar voice. Malfoy leaned casually against the wall, examining his fingernails.

"You!" Ron yelled, gesturing madly. "You did this to her! She's my sister you bloody fucking git!"

Before Harry or Malfoy could react, Ron lunged at the slim boy, tackling him to the stone floor. He hit the smaller boy again and again, while Harry yelled tried to pull him away.

"Stupefy!" Malfoy yelled, and Ron was catapulted into the air, unconscious. The blond lay there for some time, breathing heavily, wand clutched in shaking fingers.

After a while he stood slowly, wincing at the pain in his ribs. "That weasel can fight, I'll give him that," he said, smirking ruefully.

"So did you do it?" Harry asked, clenching his fists to keep from punching the smile off Malfoy's face.

"Do what?" Malfoy asked.

"Whatever Ginny did to herself, it was not of her own free will," Harry replied venomously.

Draco did not reply. A look of recognition crossed his features, and he smirked to himself. He sauntered slowly around the corner, limping slightly.

Harry seriously considered going after the Slytherin and giving him a piece of his mind, but his gaze fell to Ron, who was still unconscious. It looked as though he had a nasty bruise on his head. The raven-haired boy sighed and knocked on the infirmary door.

*****