Disclaimer: and again, only my plot, do I own.
A/N: all right, here we go, second chapter…hmm, I really have no idea where I'm going with this story, but I hope it's good. It'll get more angsty as it goes on, though. Um, if anyone has any suggestions about the plot or my writing style, I am extremely open to them, so feel free to tell me where you think this story should go. Well here you go! I hope you enjoy! {:o)
So that weekend rolled around and as she headed toward Hogsmead, Ginny was feeling slightly better. She loved it outside in the warm sun, feeling the fall breeze playing with her red and gold hair. Ginny was a loner, as you might have guessed; she wasn't the outgoing type and focused a lot on her schoolwork, saying to herself that she didn't have time for friends. But she knew she was lonely- being a teenage girl with no close friends was hard, but she tried not to let her loneliness overcome her as it did so many late nights in her bedroom.
As she walked through the village, Ginny spotted a metal works shop, with beautiful minature iron carvings and various other things. She walked into the store and noticed that they also had an extensive collection of knives. Small knives with intricately carved handles made of different types of wood, large knives with harsh jagged edges and thick, cold handles. Ginny walked by a shelf with some of the smaller knives, and saw one with a figure of a fire sprite that made up the majority of the handle. It had delicately carved red, orange and gold hair that whipped about her face and sparkled in the sunlight, her eyes were yellow gems inset into the wood, and her short translucent red dress played at her calves and felt as though it was made with real silk. Ginny ran her fingers lightly over the knife, turned it around in her hand. On the back was a tiny inscription, which Ginny wouldn't have seen if she hadn't been totally mesmerized by the enchanting knife. In elegant miniscule letters along the back of the sprites legs there was carved a short phrase that was in French. It read:
votre Coeur est votre feu-Votre amour est ton desir
Ginny was learning French in her Study of Modern World Culture; Comparing Muggles to Wizards class. Ginny wanted to be an international translator for the Muggle Relations Council once she passed from Hogwarts and the World Culture was one of the extra course classes she was taking. She easily translated the inscription and in English it read: Your heart is your fire, your love is your desire.
Ginny had instantly fallen in love with the knife and felt that she was somehow drawn to it; connected to it in some way. So she carried over to the merchandiser, an elderly witch who looked like she belonged in a children's book as the perfect grandmother. Ginny set the knife gently onto the counter, and looked up at the woman. Old though she might have been, the witch's eyes were full of light and strength and understanding. Somehow Ginny felt as though she knew this woman, but shook the feeling off as she reached into her pocket to bring out her small purse. She had been saving up for a while, not sure what for, but as soon as she saw the knife she felt she needed it, as though it had belonged to her from the very beginning when it was still a young tree. She felt as though she had to have the knife, what for though she wasn't sure.
"How much do you want for this knife?" the shy sixteen year old, tentatively, as though she was sure the knife would be way too expensive for her.
The old woman looked the girl over from her red hair, to her bright, yet sad green eyes, to her tattered cloak. By the state of her clothes, the woman guessed that the girl didn't have much money, so she lowered the price from 20 Galleons (after all the knife was hand made by a well known French woodcarver) down to 11.
"Eleven Galleons," said the witch, her voice equally as kind as her eyes.
Ginny's eyes widened, she had only 8 galleons and 12 sickles.
"7 galleons," countered Ginny, trying to lower the price.
"9" was the reply.
"8 galleons and 12 sickles- please, that's all I have." said Ginny in her last attempt.
"Alright, I guess that will be my good deed for the day," sighed the lady in mock defeat, but with a twinkle in her eyes, not at all unlike Dumbledor's. She smiled down at the petite girl as she wrapped the knife up in delicate red silk that matched the sprites dress and laid it into a wooden box with intricate carvings on it. Putting it into a bag, she handed it to Ginny, who smiled up at her.
"Thank you very much Ms.-?"
"Mrs. DeLaClaire," replied the aged witch, "and you're quite welcome. Maybe I'll see you again sometime."
"Goodbye," said Ginny as she walked through the door, her step lighter as well as her pocket. For some reason, the purchase of the knife made Ginny happier, she didn't even know why she bought it, she just felt that she needed it. Her slightly elated spirits didn't last however; as she turned a corner she almost ran into Malfoy and his troll-like flunkies Crabbe and Goyle.
"Oh, well if it isn't our little friend Gin. You don't mind if I call you that, do you, Gin. Or maybe Ginger would suit you better?" Draco sneered at her as Dumber and Dumbest snickered stupidly behind him. Ginny turned around and started walking away as Draco jumped in front of her.
"Hey now! Not so fast Ginger! Aren't you even going to show me what you bought?"
With that, he snatched the bag out of Ginny's clenched fist and took out the wooden box and studied the lid.
"Oooh, a LaCoeur. These are expensive pieces of work. Now, I fail to see how a street rat like you could manage to afford one of these" taunted Malfoy waving the box in front of her face. Just as he was about to open the box, Ginny pulled out her wand. "Accio Box" she said and the wooden box flew out of Malfoy's hand into the bag and back into Ginny's hands.
"I thought you would have learned by now, not to mess with me Malfoy," stated Ginny coldly, "You may think you were God's gift to this planet, but I refuse to let you walk all over me like I was some kind of piece of trash you just tossed aside. Now, why don't you be a good boy and run along with your, er, friends? After all, we wouldn't want everyone to find out what really happened to your hair that night on the train, would we? I could see it now, boy wouldn't the rest of the Slytherins be mad to know that Malfoy was beaten by a Weasley, the youngest, the girl Weasley at that? Yeah, that's what I thought."
Ginny saw a slight look of panic cross his face before it was replaced by a look of hatred that could turn a first year to ice. Frustrated with the girl, Malfoy turned around and stalked away, motioning for Crabbe and Goyle to follow.
With a slight feeling of satisfaction Ginny walked slowly back to Hogwarts. She hadn't gone into the store until late that afternoon, and now the sun was beginning to set, casting a red orange glow on her surroundings and making her hair look like it was on fire.
Watching the girl's back retreating from the village, Malfoy looked at her angrily. Though frustrated from being defeated by a Weasley for the what? Third time in one week, he couldn't help noticing how beautiful she was when she was angry, her eyes flashed and she threw her hair back… Whoa, slow down there Malfoy, this is a Weasley you're daydreaming about!! Even more disgusted with himself he told his flunkies to leave him alone and walked toward the hills. Behind a grove of trees on one of the larger hills there was a small cave with a stream running through it. He had found this place last year, and often came here when he needed to get away from things. He was feeling so stressed lately, sometimes he just wanted to be alone. At school Crabbe and Goyle hung around him constantly and when Pansy was around she clung to him like a leech. Man, did he hate them. At home, his father didn't find it to be often enough to remind him that after next year he would be joining the death eaters, so he made him start Dark Arts training. He only escaped from that now because he was at school. He would die before he became a Death Eater; he hated his name. Malfoy. He was stereotyped by everyone, but he never wanted to grow up to be like any Malfoy; either his abusive, controlling father, or his helpless drone of a mother. Thinking back to the weekend before school started, Malfoy remembered the argument his parents were having. He knew his mother didn't like the fact that Lucius was so wrapped up in the Dark Arts but she would never do anything about it. He wanted to transfer Draco to Durmstrang, but his mother didn't want him to go. Trying to argue with him was useless, and Draco heard his father beating his mother from upstairs, her painful screams echoed through the manor. Draco hated to hear her pain… He ran downstairs in a sudden rage and burst into the room his parents were in. He started hammering his father with his fists and feet but it was no use. He was only doing this in a blind rage and soon his father had him writhing in pain under the Crucaitus Curse. Draco felt this searing pain at least once a week but he never got used to it. This kind of abuse left bruises on the inside, so that no one would know by looking at him.
As Draco sat there in front of the stream hating himself, his hand went to his knife, which was in his cloak pocket. He looked at it and saw the name LaCoeur etched into the dark handle. He thought back to Ginny and wondered what was in that box that she had. Was it also a knife? Could she be a cutter too? No. He pushed the ridiculous thought to the back of his head, thinking that innocent Virginia Weasley would never take up something like self mutilation. He went back to his own knife and thumbed the sharp blade. It was cold to his skin. He looked at the handle, at the black dragon carved into it with the ivory inset scales and it's fiery red Garnet eyes that looked back at his icy gray ones. Taking the knife in his hand he slowly brought it to his skin. Putting pressure on the blade, Draco carefully slid the knife down his arm, spiraling from his shoulder down to his wrist. Setting the knife down, he watched the blood slowly rise between the ridges his knife had created and run down his arm in small streams, falling onto the cold stone. He felt the pain gradually leave his body with the blood that he drew and he picked up his knife again. He carved small swirling designs into his arm and watched as his blood gathered into a small pool on the ground. After about five or six good cuts, he felt more relaxed and washed the blade of in the stream. Then he dipped his arm into the icy water and watched his blood slowly flow away with the current. He brought his arm out and performed a spell which made his arm instantly scab, but left the stinging pain there. He pulled his cloak back over him and left the cave. By this time the sun had set and millions of tiny stars dotted the black night canvas. He walked back up to the castle and snuck into his dorm. After getting dressed for bed he put his knife back into the box and into his dresser drawer. Draco climbed into bed and fell into his usual restless sleep.
Putting her knife into it's box and then into her dresser, Ginny then stood up and walked over to her window. She sat down in it and looked up at the countless stars that dotted the sky. Even though they looked so close to each other, Ginny knew the stars were really miles and miles away from each other. That's how she felt, she might have looked close to her family and "friends" but she was miles away…
She got down of the window seat and went to her bed. Drawing the curtains she fell into a light sleep.
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A/N: well, there you have it, another chapter! I'm not to sure the French is okay so feel free to yell at me. Looking back on the chapter, it is relatively short, but it took me a while to write. That's the way it always is. Remember, I am open to any and all suggestions, so review as many times and as long as you want! Thanks for reading! Hopefully I'll have more updated soon!