Bruise Chapter 2, a harry potter fanfic

A/N: Evidently, I suck at fluff. But not to worry, though things get a wee bit dark and angsty here, it's not too bad. There is lots of humor and fluff to come, and as always, my stories always have a happy ending.

CARO: I'm so sorry, I don't speak spanish, but I think to answer your question, this is A/U, with Harry being in his sixth year and Ginny in her fifth. Scrappy8: Thanks so much for reading! Poor Harry indeed.

Part 2: The Bruise

Ginny was seated next to him, reaching over the table to load her breakfast plate when he saw it. He felt himself choke a bit on his eggs, his eyes not quite believing what he was seeing. As Ginny leaned over the table, facing him, the collar of her oxford dipped away from the skin of her neck. There, as stark as ink on parchment, was a purple mark that immediately sent Harry's blood boiling. His hands gripped his goblet tightly, and he tried furiously to stifle the sudden images that came to mind of someone's lips other than his own anywhere near the precious bit of skin.

An anger rose up in him, and it was so potent that he wasn't entirely sure where it was coming from. He narrowed his eyes at Ginny as she looked happily at her loaded plate and began to eat. Ron was right, he thought darkly, she was out of control. Friendly smiles and warm laughs were one thing, but letting someone attach themselves to her neck like a leech was crossing the line.

"Late night?" he said coolly.

Ginny paused, her toast in hand.

"Study group."

She avoided his eye, but to Harry's satisfaction, he saw a scarlet blush rapidly filling her face.

"Right," Harry muttered, not bothering to hide his skepticism, "Get lots of studying done, did you? Perhaps some one-on-one tutoring?"

"Harry."

Ginny rounded on him, her eyes wide. He couldn't quite figure out her expression. The flashing look in her eyes told him that he was treading on dangerous ground, but the slight upturn of her lips made her seem like she was amused.

"Do you have something you want to say?" she asked him, raising an eyebrow.

Yeah, there were quite a few things that he wanted to say, but he didn't have time for this. It was already going to be a shit day.

"Later," he snapped at her, shoving his pate away, and noisily gathering his bag, "unless you'll be busy 'studying'."

He was so angry and irritated as he left, that he almost missed the confused and hurt expression on Ginny's face as he left. But he was in such a state, he hardly found himself caring as he stormed away.

It was late in the common room when Harry stormed in, throwing his bag in the corner. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. Lately, it seemed that it took so little to set him off, and he couldn't seem to shake the darkness that had settled over him the past few months. He didn't understand it, he had been sleeping great, the best he had in years, in fact, and the stressors at school were no different than any other year. But he just couldn't help but feel... not himself.

Standing in front of the fire, he heard a cough and realized he wasn't alone. Ginny was curled up with her legs underneath her in one of the chairs, and Colin was at the foot of the chair, slumped over, having fallen asleep on his homework.

"Hi." Ginny smiled.

Damn that bloody smile.

Harry found all his irritation from the morning returning back in full force. He gave her a hard glare.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said coldly, "was I interrupting something? Were you studying again?"

But to his horror, Ginny laughed. She laughed like they had just shared an inside joke, then rose from her chair and walked over to him. Her laugh only incensed him further. With a growl, he snatched her by the arm, and dragged her out of the common room.

"Harry!" she gasped, still chuckling a bit, even as he tightened his grip on her arm, "what has gotten into you?"

He pulled her into the alcove behind a tapestry, and pointed a finger at her.

"What the hell is that about?" he hissed.

She stepped back a bit at the venom in his voice, staring confused at the accusing finger.

"What are you talking about?"

Feeling impulsive and reckless, he leaned forward and grabbed her by the necktie of her uniform. She let out a squeak of surprise as he pulled on it, loosening it slightly. She gasped and tried to pull away as he pulled aside the collar of her shirt. There it was, looking almost black on her pale skin in the dim light of the castle. He reached up a finger, and set it right on the mark.

"That," he whispered demandingly, "what is that?"

Ginny looked at him with her big brown eyes, and the blush he had seen earlier returned to her face.

She shrugged helplessly, and a wide smile broke across her red face.

"Er, studying?"

Harry felt his temper, which had been tenuous to begin with, come apart. It felt alien and foreign.

"You think this is funny? That you laugh and smile and make doe-eyes all the time? Would it kill you not to flirt with every single boy you come across?"

Ginny looked stung. "I'm not! I never..." she seemed to be struggling to find words, but then her tone turned accusatory. "Harry, you- you told me-"

"I'm sick of this, Ginny! Your brother is sick of it. It has to stop now. You're acting like a... like a..."

The air around them turned frigid, and Ginny narrowed her eyes dangerously at him.

"Like a WHAT?" she said through clenched teeth.

Harry hesitated, but it only lasted a moment. Anger and frustration boiled over. Everything was wrong, so wrong, nothing was going how he wanted. He leaned forward, his face right up to Ginny's.

"Like a tart!"

Harry only saw a blur of movement before it happened. With lightning speed, a small hand whipped out and made vicious contact with the side of his face, the cracking sound of Ginny's palm hitting his skin echoing in the alcove.

"Don't you ever call me that again!" she shrieked at him, her blush was gone, but now her face was red with fury and indignation. She backed away a few feet, shaking her head slowly, her eyes blazing with betrayal. "After what you did- and then after I promised... oh, bloody hell, come and talk to me when you're back to normal, you lunatic!"

The tone of hurt in her voice made Harry suddenly feel like he had been doused with ice-water, and his senses came rushing back to him.

"Oh, no..." he said quietly, bringing a hand to his stinging cheek. "Ginny, I'm so sorry," he pleaded, "I don't know what-"

But he never finished the sentence. Ginny flew forwards, shoving him out of the way as she moved passed him. She stormed out of the alcove, leaving behind a flabbergasted Harry.

He sank down to the floor, resting his head on his knees, suddenly feeling very much like himself again.

He had been absolutely horrible to Ginny. And why? Why was he so angry with her? Because he was jealous? His feelings had been so out of control, like they weren't his own. He would never hurt Ginny. And yet he grabbed her, yelled at her, accused her...

He would give her time to cool off, and then he would apologize. She would probably hex him the next time he tried to talk to her, but it didn't matter, he deserved it. He hung his head in his hands. What a mess.

What was wrong with him?

A few days later at dinner, Ron and Harry were met with a frantic Colin and Neville.

"Harry, Ron, you've got to come quick! It's gotten out of control!" Colin looked panicked, his small eyes popping out of his head.

Neville gulped audibly. "I was in there for only a minute, they're in the room of requirement. It was- it was horrible! They've gone completely wild! You've got to come help!"

Ron and Harry just stared dumbly at the two Gryffindor boys.

"Eh?" Ron asked after a moment.

Colin threw up his hands in exasperation. "Arg! The girls?" He gestured around with his hands, as if the situation were completely obvious. "Don't you remember? Gryffindor Girls Night? Its tonight! You know, the party they've been planning for weeks?"

Harry wrinkled his forehead. He vaguely remembered tuning out a very boring conversation between Hermione and Parvati about planning a girl's night.

"Oh, yeah..." he murmured, the memory coming back. He looked between the worried faces of Colin and Neville. "So? What's the problem?"

"Yeah," said Ron, "They spill their nail polish or something?"

Colin and Neville shook their heads ominously.

"Demelza smuggled in drinks," Neville said in a low voice, glancing around to make sure they wouldn't be overheard, "Plenty of Butterbeer and Fire whiskey by the sounds of it. But, you guys, that's not the problem-"

Colin threw his hands down on the table, his hair standing on end. "I don't know how, but THEY found out about the party and spiked the drinks! It's mad in there; Hermione, Ginny, all the girls are out of their minds!"

"But the worst is they stuck around!" Neville interjected, "They're all in there, having a laugh!" Neville pointed up towards where the direction of the room of requirement was. "They're in there all over the girls!"

"Who?" Harry asked, not liking the idea of anyone all over Gi- well, any of the girls...

"Who d'you think, Harry?" Colin squeaked "The Slytherins, of course!"

Harry and Ron both leapt to their feet.

"What?!" They demanded simultaneously.

Before the boys could answer, Harry and Ron grabbed their wands, abandoned the rest of their belongings, and began fleeing the great hall. Neville and Colin dashed behind them, and the four began sprinting to the Room of Requirement. Ron was spluttering profanities and describing various ways he'd like to dismember the Slytherins.

"I swear to god, Harry," he spat, red-faced and panting as he ran, "if Hermione and Ginny were even so much as looked at wrong-"

But Harry wasn't listening. As he ran, horrible images were filling his head. He was imagining a very intoxicated Ginny, and she was blinking those pretty eyes and smiling that beautiful smile at a sea of Slytherin boys, and they were all giving her more drinks, and then she was dancing on a table, drink sloshing around in her hand, flipping her hair around in a way that was mesmerizing to every male around her. She smiled and laughed and her clothes were becoming looser, and Harry was sure that underneath them was something black and lacy-

"NO!"

He hadn't realized he had yelled this quite loudly until the three boys stopped running and looked at him, brows furrowed.

"Er, I mean, let's keep going. Quickly." He said awkwardly.

The three boys looked at each other warily, before following Harry as he ran past them. He felt his stride increase. Yes, they had to hurry. The thoughts in his head were sending him into a panic. The scenarios playing out in his mind were getting worse by the minute.

They finally made it to the room of requirement entrance, and Neville began walking back and forth to open it. Harry's hands were trembling, and he clutched his wand so tightly that it burned hot in his hand. He was struggling to reign in the irrational thoughts that were plaguing his imagination.

Behind that door, Harry was sure he was about to find a very drunk, scantily clad Ginny. He imagined himself immediately tackling her with his cloak, and wrapping her up chin-to-toes like a mummy. Then he would proceed to pummel every Slytherin he could find to the ground...

The door opened, interrupting his thoughts. The sight that met them caused Harry and Ron's jaw to go slack.

Harry was immediately accosted with all five senses. There was music blaring loudly, so loud the floor trembled a bit with every beat. Fairy lights were blinking violently, flashing different colors and momentarily blinding him. The smell of alcohol seeped out from the room, and Harry was immediately grateful that Neville and Colin hadn't seized a teacher for help first. The sight in front of him was much different than he had anticipated, but he wasn't sure yet if this was a good thing or a bad thing yet.

It was pandemonium. Broken bottles and spilled food lay all over the floor. Directly in front of them, Luna Lovegood, who had no doubt been invited by Hermione and Ginny, was spinning in a circle, arms wide, staring at the ceiling. Neville stepped forward to help her when she tripped, diving head first into a bowl of crisps with a loud crunch.

Harry's gaze was drawn to a large leather couch. Parvati and few other girls were sprawled lazily around it, laughing loudly and clinking glasses. Some of them were falling onto the floor. In the middle of the couch sat a very boisterous and red-faced Hermione. She seemed to be telling a very important story about Arithmancy. She was waving her hands around wildly to emphasize her points. She had a butterbeer in her hand, and it splashed out the top as her hands waved around. More concerning though, was who was sitting on either side of Hermione. On her left, arm around her shoulders, was Theodore Nott. The slinking, skinny boy was laughing at her antics, and leaning much too close. Another Slytherin sat on the other side, but before Harry could get a good look at him, he heard a savage, "Oi!" and then a small explosion seemed to go off in the form of Ron, who charged the leather couch and its occupants in a rampage.

Harry walked away, leaving Ron to rescue Hermione, not caring if Nott was about to be maimed for life. He had bigger worries; Ginny was nowhere to be seen. He saw a large table with snacks, Butterbeer and Fire whiskey, but he was relieved and slightly guilty when he saw there was no Ginny clad in lacy black underwear dancing on it.

He noticed a staircase in the back of the room, and felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Without hesitation, he barreled towards the staircase and climbed it. As he was about to reach the top he stopped, hearing voices. He raised his head just enough to see the top landing. On the landing, he could make out three people standing in short corridor with another door at the end of it. At the end of the hallway, he saw Ginny. She wasn't giggling or laughing, but seemed to have hard time staying on her feet. She was being held up by the arm by- oh god no- a very blonde, pointy faced bastard who in Harry's opinion, was about to meet a very early and painful death. She was also flanked by Blaise Zabini, who had her cardigan in his hand. He held it out of Ginny's sight, leering at her as he stepped closer. Draco Malfoy was pulling on her, and seemed to be trying to get her to go through the door.

"Come on, Weasley," he drawled seductively, rubbing her arm, "We just want to talk, I have some very important questions for you about Potter. Just be a good girl and answer them. If you do, I'll make it worth your while. I promise, we're excellent company, you'll have a great time." He raised his hand to Ginny's chin and grasped it. He glanced furtively over at the other Slytherin. "We'll be on our best behavior, won't we Blaise?" His raised eyebrow and tone of voice clearly implied that he had absolutely no intention of behaving.

Ginny shook her head back and forth, backing away and bumping into Blaise Zabini's chest who grinned, holding her in place.

"Mmm, no," she slurred, swaying again, "don't want to."

"Come on, Weasley. It'll be fun." Blaise cooed.

As Draco and Blaise closed in around her, Harry had seen enough. He launched from the stairs like he had been on his Firebolt. It all happened so fast. There was a series of blasts from his wand, and before he knew it, Draco and Blaise lay black and blue, swollen and crumpled, unconscious at his feet. He was ready to do further extensive damage to the bastards, including breaking all the fingers of the hand that had grabbed Ginny's chin. As he raised his wand to do just that, he stopped at the sight of her. She was slumped against the wall, and starting to slide down it, eyes barely open. Stepping on top of Draco, he reached over and took Ginny in his arms. He lifted her up, and she mumbled garbled nonsense as he did. He carried her to the staircase and began descending.

Willing his racing heart to calm down, he was nearly to the bottom when he looked down and realized Ginny was looking at him. He paused and sat down on the step, still holding her. Surely Ron wouldn't be too upset if he was holding her like this. He had just rescued her from the Slytherin creeps after all.

"Har-Harry..." Ginny mumbled, pawing his face with her hands, like she was making sure it was him. "I was looking everywhere for you! I even looked behind the couch, and you weren't even there!"

Harry gently removed her hands from pawing at his face, and righted his glasses. "Right, well I'm here now, Ginny. And it's a good thing, this has gotten out of hand-"

"Harry!" She interrupted, getting right into his face. He could smell the Butterbeer on her breath, and something minty... likely whatever the drinks had been spiked with. "Harry! You won't- you won't believe this! The ferret showed up! Yes, he showed up, and Hermione yelled at him to leave, but then... then everything went funny after that...can't remember..."

Her brow scrunched in intense thought, and Harry tried to smooth it out with his hand, moving her hair off her warm forehead. "Ron and I are here. Neville and Colin found us. It's alright, we'll get everything right again. Are you okay? Did they bother you too much?"

Ginny shook her head, and relaxed back into Harry's arms. She closed her eyes but continued talking, words still slurred and sloppy. "Zabini took my jacket, said it was far too warm... and the ferret, he- Oh!"

Ginny bolted upright; eyes wide. She looked panicked and wild. "Secrets!" she squeaked.

"What secrets?" Harry asked, using a hand on her shoulder to keep her from toppling off his lap. He could hear the commotion at the bottom of the stairs. It sounded like Ron was shouting at the remaining Slytherins to get lost. He could hear Neville repairing various objects.

Ginny looked at him. A wide smile graced her face, and despite her inebriated state, Harry felt warmth all the way to his toes. She suddenly looked extremely pleased with herself and leaned forward conspiratorially.

"Don' worry, Harry Potter," she whispered, "I keep all your secrets safe. All of them."

Harry was trying to think about exactly what secrets Ginny was referring to, but he was hyper-aware of their close proximity, of how soft and warm she felt in his arms. His breath caught in his throat as her eyes blazed at him, and he fought the insane urge to kiss her right then and there. She was absolutely wasted, but the way she was looking at him and the way her full lips were slightly parted, if he didn't know any better, she was asking to be kissed. But, no, it was wrong, it was so wrong, but he found himself caring less and less, and even conveniently forgot that some other bloke had left a love bite on her neck just the other day-

There was a clatter at the bottom of the stairs, and Harry jumped, nearly tossing Ginny down the stairs. He grabbed her just in time and set her down next to him just as Neville appeared.

"Oh, good!" Neville breathed, "you found her. Ron was going spare. We're just about cleaned up, then we best head out."

Harry helped a wobbly Ginny to her feet, and retrieved her cardigan. As she moved to put it on, he could have sworn he saw four bands of purple around her upper arm, but as the shifted around, he thought it might be a trick of the torch light. He felt a great unease, and resisted the urge to rip the cardigan off her so he could take a closer look.

"Ginny," he said quietly, "what secrets are you keeping?"

She turned to him, looking sober for the first time that night.

"All of them."

It was the very next night that Harry saw it.

They were at dinner, and Ginny was more subdued than usual as she ate, pushing around her dinner with her fork. Harry tried to keep his staring at a minimum. She was wearing her favorite grey cardigan again, and she reached for her pumpkin juice. As her slender arm reached out, the sleeve of the cardigan revealed the pale skin of her wrist. Harry nearly dropped his drink. There was no trick of the light, no mistaking what he saw this time. Four dark purple marks surrounded her beautiful wrist like horrible bracelets. Ginny must have heard his quick intake of breath, for she turned to him immediately. She followed his gaze to her wrist, and with a gasp, she hurried and yanked down her sleeve to cover the marks.

Harry felt himself rumbling, like his body was threatening some sort of volcanic eruption.

"Did Malfoy do that?" He whispered fiercely.

Ginny looked confused. "What? Of course not-"

"Then who did?" Harry growled angrily, struggling to keep his voice low, "Is it your mysterious boyfriend? Is it the same bloke that left that disgusting mark on your neck?"

A sudden thought occurred to Harry. "It's Dean Thomas, isn't it?" Harry cracked his knuckles. "He stares at your arse all the time-"

"Enough!" She hissed.

Harry did not like the dark shadow that crossed her face. She immediately began gathering her bag, clenching her jaw, clearly anxious to leave the table as soon as possible.

"Of course it's not Dean, you idiot! It's nothing, nothing at all, and I- I don't have time for this!" she snapped, and sprinted out of the great hall.

Harry was left alone at the table, where he stayed for several minutes in deep thought. His mind was filled with horrible, confusing images, and he was struggling to sort them out. In his addled brain, only two things made sense:

Ginny Weasley was keeping secrets, and someone was hurting her.

Harry agonized over the next few days whether to approach Ron with his concerns. Every bit of Ron's reality still seemed to revolve around everything Hermione, and he wanted to leave the couple to their annoying bliss.

However, one night in the common room, he was forced to take matters into his own hands.

He returned very late, well past curfew, not expecting anyone in the common room. He felt oddly refreshed for it being so late, but all his thoughts skidded to a halt when he saw someone on their knees in front of the fireplace.

His heart plummeted to his feet. Ginny was holding her head in her hands, and her long hair fell forward like a crimson waterfall. He could see a slight shuddering of her shoulders. She was weeping.

Harry immediately dove down next to her, putting a comforting hand on her back.

"Ginny?"

She moved her hands away, and when she saw it was him, she backed away, out of his reach. He was surprised at how much the action stung. She was looking at him, hurt and despair in her tear-filled eyes. She held a hand up, silently warning him to keep his distance.

"Don't."

But Harry did not back away. Her face was wet with tears, but there was more... she looked oddly disheveled. Her hair was a tangled mess, and her lips, oh no, her bottom lip had just the smallest split in it, and was rapidly swelling, and her cheek was a violent shade of pink, almost like she'd just been-

"Ginny," Harry gulped, "did someone hurt you?"

Ginny's eyes widened for a fraction of a second, and then to his horror, she started laughing. The laugh was unnatural, and was filled with pain, and Harry began to worry that she had gone mad.

"Ginny," He said gently, "Ginny, who hurt you? Tell me. It's not your fault, you have nothing to be ashamed of. Just tell me so I can help you."

Ginny stopped laughing.

"Oh, it isn't?" she started, in a bitter tone, "not my fault, I mean. I'm so stupid, Harry, I should have seen it from the beginning. It was just like it was before! Afterall, I'm keeping it secret. I'm not telling anyone, just like you wanted. Just like he wanted. How did I not see it?"

"What?"

Harry was reeling. She was speaking in riddles. She was clearly confused. She needed the hospital wing, or Ron, or her mum, or something. Something was horribly wrong.

She leaned forward to him, exposing the fading purple marks on her wrist. "I kept the secrets, Harry. No one knows about this," she whispered, so low it was almost seductive, "or these..." She unbuttoned the collar of her shirt, and Harry was horrified to see new dark love bites around her collar bone, looking deep blue and purple against her soft skin.

"Ginny, you've got to tell me right now who did this. Tell me!" Harry was feeling desperate.

Ginny shook her head slowly side to side, and the despair in her was back with a vengeance.

"Don't you get it, Harry?" she said painfully, "Don't you understand? You just don't remember."

"Remember what?"

"You, Harry. It's you! This whole time, it's been you!"

The words hung in the air, and chilling shadow filled the space between them.

As her words pierced him, he knew them to be true.

A great blackness seemed to well up from the floor of the common room, and Harry was swallowed up in it, trapped in his own mind. He was being dragged down, down inside his own body. From far away, he heard a cold, high-pitched laughter in his head, and a voice he would recognize anywhere, even in his own head.

Hello, Harry Potter.

A/N: Hang in there, Part 3 has all the fluffy puffy goodness, and some sweet revenge on the Slytherins.