A/N: HOLY CRAP IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I UPDATED!! WAAH! KILL MEEEEE!! I am sooooooo sorry. Thank Diger for reminding me how long it's been!! Without that little nudge, I probably would have continued to be lazy for another several weeks... or maybe even MONTHS!! GAAH! HOW HORRIBLE!! It's just that I'm a senior, and seniors are LAAAAAZYYYYY!!! Procrastination has become my bestest friend in the whole wide world, and I absolutely ADORE slacking off and sleeping and watching movies and shit. I also got kinda distracted by my new Pirates of the Caribbean fanfic, which I started in the beginning of January, and which has tragically stolen my attention away from this story. Silly, silly Jessa. I is bad. Very, very bad. Bad, bad me.

But anyway, speaking of horrible, this chapter is gonna upset a lot of you also, just like the last chapter. I must admit, though, I was surprised at the fairly positive response I got to that violent Draco!! I thought people would be tearing out their hair in fury, and plotting my demise, but no! People seemed to enjoy it!! I love a violent Draco as much as the next person, don't get me wrong, but I didn't think that Ginny LEAVING Draco was gonna get such a good response. And yet it did! How odd! I love you guys!! You're so unpredictable!! And only ONE person guessed vaguely what was gonna happen in this chapter. I thought more people would get it, but again, you guys are so fabulously unpredictable! Eep! Well... HAPPY READING, MY SWEETS!!! ENJOY THE CHAPTER!!!

Ginny's eyes were dry, like taps sucked clean of all their moisture. It hurt to blink. Her body was numb all over. It was torture to move even at all. She pressed a hand to her stomach as she stepped into the hotel's fire and said in a hoarse but clear voice, "The Burrow." She didn't trust herself to apparate, in this state. She spun violently through the flames, passing fireplace after fireplace after fireplace, making her feel lightheaded. She shut her eyes, and sunk into the feeling of the dizzying journey. The moment didn't last long, though, and very soon, she was falling face-forward onto her kitchen floor.

The worried shouts that greeted her clumsy entrance sounded distant and unreal to her. When she looked up, the anxious faces gazing down at her were all a blur. She blinked painfully, but nothing came into proper focus. "Mum?" she croaked desperately. "Mum." She didn't know how to word what she wanted. "Mum," she said again, her urgent voice cracking.

"Oh, Ginny," her mother sighed piteously. Ginny felt warm hands slip beneath her shoulders, and she was being suddenly lifted from her spot on the floor. They were not her mother's hands. She knew her mother's touch well.

She blinked hard once more, trying to steady herself as the person holding her up tried to place her on her feet. The breathing pattern was familiar. "Ron?" she asked cautiously, recognizing his nervous breaths.

"You look terrible, Ginny," he said, confirming his identity. "What did he do to you?" Of course, he'd already know where she'd gone. They all would, wouldn't they? It must have been obvious. Perhaps they had even been waiting for it to happen.

She could only shake her head. Her abdomen was extremely sore from when she'd fallen—been thrown—from the bed back at the hotel, and it hurt to be standing. She backed up, trying to find a seat. Ron seemed to understand her movements, and she felt him shift against her as he slid a chair directly behind her. She fell graciously into it, still shaking her head. She avoided the gaze of everyone around her, staring at her knees instead. "I hate this," she whispered, echoing Draco's words. "I hate him."

"What happened, dear?" her mother queried in a trembling voice. Ginny sensed the older woman kneeling before her, and she looked up slightly so that she could see her mother's caring face.

"Mum," she breathed, her tone drenched in desperate tragedy. She swallowed, her chin quivering with the need to break down again. But she had no more tears to shed. "Mum," she sighed again, taking her time to admit the thing she said next. "I need help."

"Oh, darling," her mother squealed, taking Ginny's head into her arms and hugging her tightly. "Oh, sweetheart, everything will be alright. Everything will be alright, love. Don't worry."

Ginny sniffed emotionally. "I know, mother," she agreed with surprising maturity, patting the older woman comfortingly on her head. "I know. But right now, I need help."

"Oh, my baby girl… you're so grown up. I know you're in a really bad mix right now, dear, but you are so grown up, and you've been through so much."

"Mum," she choked, "I'm never going back. I just went to Draco, and he was really nice at first, he was really…" Her tongue seemed to suddenly lose its ability to function, and she had to pause for a moment to regain the will to speak. "He was… fine… at first. He had… gone back to his father, y'know, and his father had… Well, he was in a bad state. But he was fine! He was happy I'd come back. He was so happy… We were so…" She broke off, emotions clouding her words. Clearing her throat, she went on determinedly. "Then I… told him about… my condition, and he, uh... sort of, um… lost it." Her eyes grew unbearably damp at her own words.

Mrs. Weasley gave a small sob. "Oh, Ginny," she squeaked empathetically. "Ginny… I'm so sorry. But you're home again, and we'll take care of you, and that man can't ever touch you again."

Ginny's heart gave an aching throb. "It's Draco," she breathed thickly. "I never would have thought. He said… he loved me."

"And maybe he did… but any man worthy of your love could never hurt you this way, dear. You need to understand that."

She nodded, her head feeling heavy and unsure. "I do," she said quietly. "I understand it, now."

Ron appeared again at their mother's side. He took her hands into his wide, warm palms, and held them out. "Where'd you get these cuts?" he asked tenderly. She looked up at him. Never had Ron looked at her with so much caring, or so much sympathy. Was this even her brother at all? Did she really look so broken that he felt unable to bombard her with insults and accusations? He was her brother, after all. She hated that she felt surprised by his unexpected kindness, but she couldn't help it. He hadn't been particularly nice to her since she'd left Harry. Oh, Harry. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Um," she began warily. "There was, uh… broken glass on the floor, and I, um… I fell on it."

"You fell…?" Ron narrowed his eyes in sickened comprehension. "He pushed you, didn't he? Malfoy deliberately hurt my baby sister, didn't he?" His voice was extremely low, shaking with fury. "I'll kill him," he said threateningly, cracking his knuckles. "I'll kill him with my bare hands. Screw magic. I'll tear open his damn bloody throat, and rip his limbs off. I swear, I will."

"You'll do no such thing," Mrs. Weasley snapped. "Calm yourself, Ronald. This family needs nothing more to do with that Malfoy child. He's nothing but trouble. Do you hear me?" she asked, raising her voice so the entire kitchen could hear her more clearly. "None of you is to confront that boy. Don't even think about it. Just stay away from him. We don't need more problems. Ginny needs us right now. She doesn't need our revenge… just our care. So let's all please keep our heads level, and get on with our lives now that this whole nasty business is over."

"It's not over yet, Mrs. Weasley," said a hauntingly familiar voice.

"Harry," she sighed, shutting her eyes against the blinding pain that suddenly erupted in her head.

"Malfoy's a ruddy menace, and we'll have nothing more to do with him, yeah," Harry agreed, "but he's left something with us to remember him by, hasn't he, Ginny?"

She looked up at him, her heart feeling crushed and splintered. Her lips were trembling. She nodded pitifully, gazing into those harrowingly green eyes… those eyes that she had once loved so much. He was staring at her with such heartbreaking warmth that she felt dazed. "I'm so sorry," he said flatly to her, "that Malfoy hurt you. As stupid as your choice was to leave with him, you didn't deserve that. You didn't deserve him. You deserved someone who could take care of you, and he just wasn't it, Ginny. You shouldn't have had to learn that in such a way. You don't deserve to be hurt. You deserve better." Ginny's pulse was excruciatingly loud in her eardrums.

"I deserve you, you mean," she clarified quietly. Harry said nothing, but merely pursed his lips vaguely, and stared determinedly at her. Their eyes remained locked for a very long time, even while Mrs. Weasley spoke.

"Oh, I can't believe this has happened," Mrs. Weasley cried in distress. "I never thought my own daughter would get into such a situation."

"Now, now, Molly," Mr. Weasley cooed. "She couldn't have known what that junior Malfoy was going to…"

"Couldn't have known?" Ron interrupted his father incredulously. "Of course she could have known. In fact, she should have expected it. It's Malfoy, for goodness sake! But she's still not to blame. She needs us, now, like you said, mum."

Bill's sigh could be heard from the other side of the room. "Oh, Ginny," he said sadly. "If there's anything I can…"

"I can't believe him," George said heatedly, talking over his brother. "I agree with Ron. Ginny needs us, but I believe that Malfoy deserves a serious talking to. And I would have to vote on using our fists more than our words in this instance."

Percy sniffed angrily. "I must say, you're being very rash. I agree with mother on this one. Not that Malfoy doesn't deserve a violent confrontation, but…"

"Oh, now really," Charlie said exasperatedly. "Malfoy doesn't deserve anything from us. He deserves to be ignored. That'd be the greatest punishment to him, don't you see? To be treated like nothing, like an insect unworthy of our notice… it would destroy him, to think he made no impact, and to think Ginny cares so little about him that she just couldn't even be bothered with revenge."

"Yes, I agree with Charlie boy," Bill said finally. "I think that'd be best. Now, Ginny, if there's anything we can do…"

The room fell quiet again. All eyes were on Ginny, as though they were all hoping she'd tell them what they should be doing to assist her. She merely blinked, her gaze still trapped unyieldingly in Harry's. She gulped, still not taking her eyes off of him. "There's nothing," she told the room gratefully. "But I appreciate it all. Thank you." And at that, she broke away from Harry's painful expression, and looked back at her mother. "Thank you so much, but I'll really be okay. I just… I just need help," she sighed. "I just need company, and kindness, and… I just want to feel cared about, that's all." Her stomach gave a painful twinge all of a sudden, and she felt dizzy. She placed a hand over her lower belly, breathing deeply as she gripped the edge of the kitchen table with her other hand to steady herself so she wouldn't fall out of her chair.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked hurriedly, placing an anxious hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?"

She nodded quickly, doing her best to ignore the ache. "Yes… yes, I'm fine," she breathed. "I just… I think I bruised myself when I fell."

"You mean when Malfoy hurt you," Ron snapped furiously. "Why won't you say it, Ginny? The bastard is fucking abusive."

"He isn't," she said desperately, gazing up at her brother with watery eyes. "He's never… he wouldn't normally, but… I told him that I was… so he, um…" She sniffed. "Well, it was something he just couldn't handle."

"Don't you go blaming yourself, you idiot," George hissed passionately. "He's a cruel bastard, and he does not deserve to have excuses made for him."

Ginny could only nod to that. She knew it was true, but she still loved the man. She couldn't help it. Perhaps she would always love him. That thought was not a pleasant one, and it made her shiver unhappily. She didn't want to be stuck with these feeling for the rest of her life.

Mrs. Weasley sighed, and placed an arm around her daughter's shoulders. "Things will be better, now, Ginny," she told her. "We'll take good care of you… and your baby. Who really cares that it's half Malfoy?"

Most of the people in the kitchen shifted nervously. Obviously a lot of them did care. "Well," Ron said cautiously, "I won't deny that I hate it'll be half Malfoy… but it's also going to be half Weasley, so it can't be all bad. I swear I'll treat it just like one of the family."

She gave Ron a watery smile. "Thank you, Ron," she whispered in relief.

"Now, you're sure there's nothing any of us could do for you, Gin?" asked Bill.

"No… Actually, I think I'd just like to be left alone for a bit. Is that alright?"

Mrs. Weasley made an odd sound. "Oh, of course, dear!" she said desperately, as though determined to show that she'd do anything for her daughter in this moment. "Anything! Do you want to stay here, or…?"

"I'll go up to my room."

"Alright then, darling," she said loyally, making to help Ginny out of her chair.

She scoffed. "I'm fine, mum," she said delicately. "I can stand on my own."

"Sorry, dear." Mrs. Weasley backed off, blushing slightly.

Ginny stood slowly, clutching her stomach protectively. "Thank you all," she said again to the people crowded around the kitchen. "You're so good to me, even after all I've done to you lot."

"We love you, Ginny," George told her sweetly. "Even if you are a bit of a fuck up." Ginny couldn't help but smile at that. She stuck out her tongue at her brother in amusement, realizing as she did so how honestly glad she was to be back home.

She sidled out of the room, made her way up the stairs to her bedroom, and sat carefully upon her bed. The sense of childhood that hung around it made her smile. She smiled at a poster she had up of the Holyhead Harpies. She was now a professional Quidditch player for the team that she had worshiped when she was young. She felt so old, now. But with a sudden thought, her smile fell. What if she was kicked off the team because of her pregnancy, after only one practice session with them? She hoped they wouldn't kick her out. If they did, she would consider herself a failure, and she really didn't want that. She bit her lip, staring at the poster further. It was Draco who had brought her to those try-outs. It was Draco who had encouraged her towards her dream of being a Quidditch Player. It was Draco who had shown her what passion was, and what freedom was. It was all about Draco. Would it always be that way? Would he stay forever on her mind, haunting her? She hoped not. She closed her eyes, trying to stop thinking so much, but the image of Draco raging at her, clutching her wrists, shaking her, throwing her from the bed… The memory was seeping through her head like an emotionally draining poison. Small portions of the incident were flashing in her mind, out of order, so she got extremely confused, and the pain of it all became overwhelming.

A gentle knock upon her door made her eyes flutter open. She was glad for the distraction. She thought she might go mad if she sat there any longer, brooding over what Draco had done. "Come in," she called to the stranger. Although she wanted her space from her family at the moment, she wasn't completely opposed to company.

When the door clicked open, she gasped. Of all the people currently at the Burrow, she had least expected Harry to approach her willingly. They shared a moment of uncomfortable silence before he finally spoke. "Hi, Ginny," he whispered, as though fearful that his voice would hurt her.

"Harry," she muttered hoarsely. "Oh god, Harry. I can't even begin to apologize for what I've done to you."

"Yeah," he said. "You're right. But I didn't come up here to make you guilty. I just wanted to tell you personally how sorry I am that you had to go through that. I know you loved him… as disgusting and unthinkable as that is," he added bitterly, his expression growing suddenly dark, "and I know it hurts to be so betrayed by someone you love, so I'm sorry… I'm really truly sorry you had to experience that."

Ginny scoffed. "Ha. This was your idea of not making me guilty?"

"Look, Ginny, what you did really hurt me, and I'm not going to deny that! You hurt me, and I just… I still love you, and I never wanted you to be hurt the way that I am. But you have been, now, and… I'm sorry."

She shook her head, glancing away from him, and down at her feet. "Oh, yeah, you're sorry," she spat sardonically. "I bet inside you're thinking that I finally got what I deserved, right?"

"No!" Harry snarled, taking a step further into her room and making Ginny feel more uncomfortable. "I would never wish for you to get hurt like that! How can you think that I'd want this for you? All I've ever wanted was for you to be happy!" She looked back up at him, and was surprised to see how red and damp Harry's eyes looked.

"How can you still feel that way after what I did to you?" Ginny asked desperately, her voice strangely high pitched. "How can you still look at me without wishing my death, huh? I don't understand you, Harry! How can you still be so strong?"

"I wasn't," he said quietly. "For a long while, I wasn't. I was mad with grief, and rage, and a desperate need for vengeance. But I calmed down after a while, and was simply numb. But now you're back, and it's like that numbness can finally ebb away, and I'm feeling again. And all I can feel, Ginny, is you. You, and everything I ever felt for you—friendship, respect, love... and the disappointment, too. I feel it all, and it's mind-blowing. I feel like I'm going mad again, and the only way to be well again is to just make things right with you."

Ginny's heart felt inflated. Her ribs were aching with the pressure. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears, and feel her pulse against her stomach as she continued to clutch it nervously. It was hurting her violently, but she ignored it. "Harry, you… you're crazy," she breathed, shaking her head. "I could never do what you're doing. I could never be that valiant and noble. I don't think I'd ever have the courage to go back to Draco and tell him I still cared about him."

"Well that's because he's dangerous," Harry said calmly, coming to sit beside Ginny. "You're not dangerous, Ginny. You're everything I ever wanted and cared about, so how could I not come back to make sure you're alright?"

She sniffed, feeling awkward. "Well, I'm fine," she told him blandly. "I've left him, so now I'll be okay."

Harry nodded, as though unsure of what else to say. He glanced down at her stomach anxiously. Clearing his throat, he pointed at it. "So, uh… are you feeling okay about…?"

"Yes," she said quickly. "I'm happy about it. I've always liked children, you know, and… it'll be something to remember Draco by, like you said downstairs."

He gave her an awkward smile, still staring at her stomach, which she continued to hold as though her life depended on it. "Are you feeling okay in there?" he asked nervously, eyeing her shaking hands. "You look like you're in pain."

"Just… a little bit," she lied. "But I'm fine." In truth, her abdomen felt like it was on fire. What was going on with her? A sudden blaze of horror shot through her, and she felt breathless. What if there was something wrong with her baby? What if there was something wrong inside of her? What if the baby had been hurt when she had fallen from the bed? Panic flooded her, and she stood abruptly. "I… thank you for your concern, Harry," she said honestly. "I need to, uh…" She never finished her sentence before gliding brusquely from her room.

She hurried down the stairs quickly but carefully, her hands still clasped over her lower belly anxiously. "Mum?" she called. "Mum, are you here?"

Her mother came scuffling in from the kitchen, looking eager to please. "What is it, dear? D'you need something? Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I'm just… worried," she said in a rush. "My stomach is… really, really hurting right now, and… I'm just…"

"Worried about the baby?" Mrs. Weasley asked sympathetically, her eyes wide. "Oh, dear, well... I've had seven children, and each pregnancy went smoothly enough, so I'm not really…."

"I need to know if there's something wrong, mum! Find out! I don't care how, just… I need to know." Her entire body seemed to be throbbing with unease.

Mrs. Weasley bit her lip, and was silent for a moment. Then she asked, "Well… are you spotting?"

"Am I what?"

"Spotting, dear. Are you bleeding?"

"You mean…" Ginny looked down at herself. "I don't know. I haven't checked."

"Well, I suggest that you do."

"And if I am… what does it mean?" she inquired speedily.

Her mother hesitated.

"What does it mean?" she asked again, raising her voice so it became very shrill and cracked. Her brow was creased with anxiety, and she was sweating profusely. She felt extremely ill.

"Well, dear," Mrs. Weasley told her tenderly, looking extremely distraught as she spoke, "it could very well mean you've had a miscarriage."

Ginny's heart was thundering wildly, deafening her. "And… do you think that's what I've had?"

"I don't know, darling."

"What could cause one?"

"Any number of things, Ginny, dear," she said lightly. "Just go check, first, alright? Then we'll see what we can do."

Ginny did not respond to her mother. She headed for the bathroom as quickly as she could without her weakening legs giving out from under her. As she shut the door behind her, she began to pant heavily. She had finally accepted this thing. She had finally accepted that she'd be having a child, and now… What if it was all over? Just like that? Because of Draco's violence? What would she do, then, if the baby was dead? In the deepest corners of her mind, she was already plotting her vengeance, and already feeling enraged with grief. But then again, she might just be paranoid.

Feeling her leg muscles turn to clay, she dropped to her knees on the dirty bathroom floor. She dragged herself carefully to the toilet bowl, and with a great effort, heaved herself up to sit on it. She was breathing very shallowly, and her blood was turning to fire in her veins. Her pulse was wild in her ears as she reached beneath her robes, and her fingers made contact with the fabric of her underwear. She slid them down her thighs, over her knees, and stared.

Her heart seemed to stop. Her breathing was very difficult. Her lungs had surely closed up, and she was going to die. She blinked slowly at the impossible sight before her.

The cotton of her underpants was saturated with blood.

An odd sound of disbelief and tragic despair spilled from her lips without her even hearing it. She shook her head. It simply could not be. Not after everything that she had gone through just to convince Draco he would be good for this child. After all that, how could this happen? How could it? It simply could not be. It couldn't.

The world spun. She did not want to replace her underwear, or to stand up, or to go outside and tell her mother that she was bleeding from inappropriate places. She didn't want any of this to be true. She wanted to merely sit here forever in denial. Maybe if she did that, the world would right itself. Maybe Draco would come back to her, begging forgiveness on his hands and knees, and maybe their baby would be okay, and they would raise it together, the way she'd dreamed. Maybe everything would work out. Just maybe it would, this time.

She was shivering noticeably, and it was hardly cold. Her entire mind felt wiped blank. She didn't understand anything, at the moment. What should she do? Tell her mother.

Gathering her strength, she forced herself to her feet again. Her limbs were trembling so enormously that walking to the bathroom door was seriously difficult. She placed her sweaty palm on the handle and turned it, amazed by every movement. Every one of her senses seemed in overdrive, though her head had become an emotional void.

"Mum," she gasped as the door swung open and she saw her mother waiting for her there. Her surroundings were spinning wildly, and she was growing intensely dizzy. "Mum," she breathed once more, shutting her eyes. But the spinning and the dizziness did not stop, and small bulbs of dazzling color burst before her stinging eyes. She felt the sudden urge to be violently sick, and fell to her knees, the dizziness overpowering her.

The next moment, her head hit the wooden floor, her mother was screaming from somewhere above her… and she felt no more.

A/N: DUN DUN DUUUUUN!!!!!!! Ginny has fallen unconsious. No, don't worry, she's not DEAD. She's just passed out from shock. I'd probably do the same.

Well, THANKS FOR READING, MY DARLING DEARS!! YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL!!!!! Remember that reviews keep me happy, and keep this story going!!