A/N: I don't own Harry Potter or any related characters

This is for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Writing Club February

Fabulous World Of Comics: 2 - (character) Ginny Weasley

Lizzy's Loft: 22 - And maybe even you can feel it too

Film Festival: 15 - (genre) hurt/comfort

Lyric Alley: 16 - My head is screaming "Get a grip girl!"

Warning: self harm, destructive thoughts

Word Count: 656

She knew he hadn't noticed the marks on her arms. The bruises were there so often, they had become a part of herself. The scratches were new. Raw red lines carved into her skin. They scabbed around the edges, but for the most part, weren't healing very quickly. That might have something to do with the fact she refused to leave them alone.

She'd pick at the puckered skin until it bled again. Blood was life and as long as she could bleed, she was alive. It didn't matter if she felt nothing. It didn't matter that everything she had once cared about, once loved, were simply things that existed. She felt no attachment to any of it anymore.

They were talking, the three of them. It was always the three of them, since the first day it seemed. She wasn't part of it. Why would she be? She should have had her own friends, been the star of her own adventures. Instead, she had been a pawn in a dangerous, nearly deadly game.

They still looked at her as if she were some evil creature, as if she was still possessed. What had happened in the chamber, in her life, was a secret. So, naturally everyone knew something about it. She'd heard some of their insane theories about her, about who she really was. Nevermind the fact she looked just like her brothers.

That's why she hadn't expected him to sit down next to her at breakfast. She hadn't expected him to look at her with something other than curiousity in his eyes. She most certainly hadn't expected him to start a conversation with her, but he had.

"How was your summer?" he asked. She blinked at him, wondering if one of her brothers had put him up to this. They all seemed to care about her well being now. They hadn't cared then, when things had been bad.

"It was fine," she answered, slathering her croissant in jam. She liked the way the red jam sparkled in the candlelight. It reminded her of blood. Blood was life. She was alive because she could bleed.

"Did you do anything interesting? My Gram let me go visit my Uncle Algie. He's a herbologist and is studying plants in the Amazon Rain Forest."

She blinked. He was actually talking to her like a person. He wasn't asking how many mind healers she'd seen, if she was cured of being possessed. No, he was asking about her holiday, something so mundane she almost couldn't believe it.

"Yes, actually. We went to Egypt to see my brother. It was in the paper."

"I must have missed it. Did you see any mummies?"

"Loads! There was this one tomb, well, Mum didn't know I saw it, but this one mummy had three heads! It must have been a spell or something that went wrong. It was totally creepy," Ginny said, feeling something akin to emotion for the first time in a long time.

"Wow, hey, I know things were rough last year, but this year, things are going to be different, alright? I know I'm not special or anything, but if you'd like to talk to someone... I've been told I'm a good listener?"

"Thank you, Neville. Actually, yes, I would like that. Everyone else seems to think I'm the one with three heads, the way they stare. So, um, I heard there's like giant man eating plants in the rain forest? Did you see one?"

"Nothing big enough to eat a person, but some smaller plants that eat bugs and small mammals," Neville replied. Ginny felt the corners of her mouth pulling into a hint of a smile. The numbness she usually felt, the numbness she needed to see blood to endure, was somehow lesser. Yes, Neville was nice to talk to. Maybe a new friendship, one that she hadn't seen coming, would make this year at least bearable?