A/N: Are you annoyed yet? To all of you who have so anxiously been awaiting the next chapter, ::snorts:: here it is! Fun, fun… This chapter took so long because… Well, to tell you the truth I just had other things to do. I put it off until one of my friends *finally* asked about it. Whoops! Sorry guys! I hope to update more regularly now. Draco/Ginny is coming soon. Keep you knickers on! Hmmm… As always I don't own Harry Potter. I'm so sorry to disappoint you. Thanks section at the end. Chapter title comes from Linkin Park, In the End. Golly, I just love that song… Now on to the er, story…

It's Been A While

Chapter Three: Trying to Hold On



Snape tossed wildly in his sleep. His head thudded harshly against the hardwood of his headboard. He didn't wince or wake from the pain as the dream he was experiencing continued…

"You thought you could defy me Serverus? That I wouldn't find out?" hissed a wicked voice. "You thought that fool muggle-lover Dumbledore could protect you?" Snape was visibly shaking, a hand moving through his long greasy hair.

"I…"

"Did you enjoy my present Serverus? Did you enjoy her? I thought you would, for I know I enjoyed the child. She used to be so weak… so weak Serverus, but she's grown quite stronger. She's gotten quite attractive as well." Voldemort moved slowly towards Snape, circling him like a vulture. As he moved to Snape's side he set a firm hand on his shoulder. "You can't run anymore. There's no where else for Dumbledore to hide you." Voldemort drew his face near to Snape's, drawing a finger lazily down his chest. His tongue emerged to lick a similar path up Snape's neck, stopping near his ear.

As Snape flinched away from the touch, Voldemort let out a dry laugh. His lips moved closer to Snape's ear as he hissed, "I'm going to enjoy torturing you. You're mine Snape. You're mine."

Snape woke from his dream panting and drenched in sweat. His sheets were twisted and knotted around his body; dark red satin mixing with sickly sallow skin. His hands were balled into fists, his knuckles white with rage. He could almost still feel the breath of Voldermort in his ear, his tongue on his neck. He felt dirty… very horribly dirty.

The child? Dear Gods, Virginia Weasley. The previous night came whirling back to him, bringing scenes of a nightmarish proportion. How could he have forgotten? Had it been Voldermort then? Had he charged him to do such a horrible task? Yes, he definitely felt dirty, but no amount of hot water could wash away his horrendous sins.

*****

The training session had been quite strenuous. Ginny breathed a sigh as she shouldered her broom. Being on the Quidditch team did have certain advantages though. Certain advantages involving a certain Harry Potter… Not that seeing Harry (clad in his formfitting black tee shirt and trousers) during practice excited Ginny in the least. No, not at all…

While thinking of Harry quite filled one's mind, images of the previous night still occasionally graced Ginny's thoughts. She knew she could go to Dumbledore, but something held her back. Things just really didn't add up.

Ginny didn't deny that she hated Snape. She absolutely loathed the man. It was the way he had looked at her, a face mixed with pain and sorrow, that had caught her memory. There was something else there.

It had been easy enough to hide the bruises. While Ginny was most certainly not an expert in magical healing, she did know a few spells that got rid of the more painful marks. The rest she covered with her long- sleeved jumper and a well-placed scarf.

"Well, well, well. The Little Weasel returns." Ginny turned just in time to catch a full view of Malfoy (also in practice clothes) smirking at her, arms crossed in front of his chest. His fellow Slytherin Quidditch members, all laughing and snorting at his antics, surrounded him. She tossed him a dirty look before continuing onward.

Draco Malfoy signaled his companions to be quiet as he stalked after the now retreating Ginny Weasley. Coming within a few feet he snagged her red and gold scarf, tugging anxiously. Ginny had only enough time to register a sharp pain at her neck before the scarf was yanked off and she was hauled roughly to the ground. Damn, why did snow have to be so bloody cold?

"Oh, is this yours?" Malfoy again appeared back in her line of vision, standing above her and dangling the long scarf. His other house players could be heard snickering a short distance away.

"Sod off Malfoy," she yelled grabbing the stolen garment. As she forced her way to her feet Malfoy's smirk slowly faded. It was replaced by a look of utmost alarm. Violently grabbing her arm he waved off his friends as he dragged her behind the nearby broom shed.

"Let go of me you bloody bastard!" Ginny hissed. Realizing he still had a tight grip on her arm Malfoy slowly let it go.

"What the hell is this?" he asked fingering a series of bruises that ran down Ginny's exposed neck.

"Sod of Malfoy. It's none of your damn business!"

"When I said… Gods, when I warned you last night about them you know I wasn't being serious. I was just trying to scare you. I would never let them… Crabbe and Goyle didn't do this, did they?" Malfoy's hand was now starting to shake and it startled Ginny to realize that she'd never seen him display such sheer terror.

"No Malfoy, it wasn't your goons. There's no dirt left on your hands. Now leave." Ginny was even more surprised at the harsh tone that escaped her throat. She needed to get away. She didn't think she'd last for much longer.

Malfoy turned to leave, the snow crunching under his feet. Ginny let a slight sob leak from her lips while letting her head fall into her hands. It was Saturday, and she wouldn't have to see Snape today. Her problems could be dealt with later.

"But if it wasn't them…" Malfoy had turned back. "I'm curious. Who left the smallest Weasley with those? And does our hot-tempered friend Ronald know? I'm surprised a homicide hasn't been reported yet."

"Leave," she ground out. "Leave me the hell alone."

"Big language for such a small girl. Come on. Was it Potter, or maybe his little stalker Creevey? He's a sixth year if I'm not mistaken."

"No!" Ginny face flushed bright red with anger. Pushing her way past Malfoy she began to walk away. Crunching footsteps echoed on the snow behind her. Sensing that Draco Malfoy was again trailing behind her she increased her walk to a fast jog.

Her breath, now coming in fast pants, mirrored the very body running just behind her. Ginny reached a sprint, pushing her body to its full extent, as snow started to fall. She was forced to come to a halt as she reached the opposite end of the Quidditch pitch, resting against an iron barrier. Draco Malfoy was not far behind. He was out of breath, his cheeks showing a slight tinge of pink.

Ginny turned to leave, but not before Malfoy made a swift snatch at her wrist.

"Stop," he breathed. He tensed his grip on her wrist, causing Ginny to wince in pain. Draco Malfoy didn't fail to the slight movement, an inquiring look coming to his eyes.

As if in slow motion Draco slowly began to roll up Ginny's jumper sleeve. As each bruise was revealed he seemed almost to cringe inwardly before further rolling up the sleeve. When he had completely rolled up the first sleeve he started to roll up the other. Ginny made a move to stop him before quickly dropping her hand. He knew. Oh Gods, he knew…

*****

Snape couldn't see. The hot white pain that drove deeper and deeper into his left forearm blinded him. He had taken a knife to the mark, scratching bitterly, willing his body to be rid of the horrid thing. Yet it was still there, as dark and clear as the day it had first been branded into his skin.

He couldn't go to Dumbledore. The once gracious headmaster wouldn't accept him now. He was truly an appalling creature. How could he have broken Dumbledore's unequivocal trust? Dumbledore was the last tie he'd had to the good side, and now it was gone. Snape was left an ugly wretched piece of filth, the lowest form of human life. He was the kind of muck that thrived in Voldemort's ranks. He no longer belonged here.

Serverus Snape screamed out as pain engulfed his entire body. Blood was everywhere, oozing from every crack and crevice of his body. Snape knew this pain was not his doing. Voldemort was calling him…

*****



"Who?" Draco Malfoy took a deep breath. "Who did this?" Ginny failed to meet his gaze as she stared down at her shoes. "Gin… Ginny," he stuttered, the name sounding foreign on his lips.

Gently grabbing her chin he tilted it upward, forcing her eyes to meet his. His light gray eyes scanned her face sensing her mixed emotions and uncertainty. Both stared at each other, their breaths mingling in white puffs of smoke.

"Was it a student?" Ginny lightly shook her head before again casting her eyes down. Malfoy's grip on her chin slightly tightened. "A teacher then?" he whispered.

The air around them was deathly silent. Malfoy had paled considerably, the hand holding Ginny's chin beginning to tremble. He shakily ran a hand through his blonde hair.

"Not Hagrid," he said to himself. "There's Flitwick, but you could fight him off. Dumbledore and Filch… only, Gods knows how old they are. That leaves Dippet, Binns, Warwick and…" Draco Malfoy took a deep breath, hardly managing a whisper. "Snape."

Ginny's eyes slowly rose to meet Malfoy's. As she blinked a single tear emerged to slowly streak down her cheek. Biting her lip she tried to read Malfoy's expression.

"Holy shit, Snape? He… He wouldn't." The hand holding Ginny's chin slowly dropped. "He wouldn't hurt you. He may not like you, but he'd never… Something must have happened. Something…" Draco Malfoy's whole body began to tremble. "Oh Gods. I've got to find him."

Draco Malfoy turned abruptly, running back across the Quidditch pitch. In less then a minute he was out of sight. Ginny was left dreadfully alone, cold snow swirling around her.

*****

Draco sprinted down the halls, melting snow trailing puddles behind him. By the time he reached Snape's chambers he was gasping for breath. He knocked loudly on the door, yelling between breaths.

"Serverus! Open the door! Serverus!" He listened intently for the sound of Serverus's shuffling feet, but none came. He pounded on the door again before hesitantly trying the knob.

"Bloody hell." The floor was littered with smashed potion bottles, broken glass everywhere. Several bookshelves had been toppled over along with the bed, which now lay on its side. An empty bottle of brandy sat on Snape's desk.

Draco made his way over to the desk, glass crunching under his boots. The wall here was covered in splotches of different liquids, most certainly from potion bottles that had been thrown earlier. Yet, there was something else that covered the wall here as well. Draco's stomach clenched as he neared the substance.

It was blood, and it was everywhere. The papers on the desk were soaked in it. Recognizing his own potion's essay Draco nearly choked.

He timidly pressed both of his hands on the desk. The blood was still warm. He carefully pushed the papers aside, revealing a crude carving set into the desk's smooth mahogany finish. His fingers traced the image he new so well. The image he'd known since birth... the dark mark.

*****

1 Ok, ok… Now everyone can flame me. To everyone that reviewed… Thanks! (Even if it was a flame…) IceIceBaby, FireSprite, Lavender James, cammie, Eiez, ~Danielle~, ytfuy, Victoria Black, Ming Li, Li Sakura, MiZ PuNk, samantha, imbrium, and Invisigoth. Thanks to my beta-reader DarkKnight, without who this story would be absolutely nowhere.