DISCLAIMER: I don't own any one person or place in this story, full credit
is given to the goddess J.K. Rowling.
Well... be gentle with me, this is the first fairly long fic I've written that doesn't have either a mary-sue or Harry/Draco slash.
and
WARNING!!! The rating is for cutting, so if blood makes you squeamish, then run... far, far away.
********
She looked down as the blood poured from her skin like a fountain gushing water. 'Well, that's the deepest it's ever been. I've finally hit rock bottom, I guess. Maybe this time I'll die.' she thought as she layed down, emotionless, on her bed. 'I wonder how long it will take before they realize I've gone missing. They have to find me eventually... I bet they'll all be glad to be rid of me. No more Ginny wasting time and space on this earth.'
She curled into a ball, wrapping her arms tightly around her knees and slowly falling asleep. Tomorrow would probably end the same way, even though she really couldn't ever think about life past the next hour. It was summer after her third year, and things were worse than ever for the young red-headed Gryffindor. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't escape the immense darkness that had been closing in around her since she had first come to the school.
Everyone knew the story about what had happened to Ginny in her first year. They'd heard about how she'd been brainwashed by You Know Who, about how she'd set loose a terrible monster on the school for months, and how at the very end Harry Potter, whom she'd had a terrible crush on for the past year and a half, had once again come to the rescue and defeated the dark lord, saving her life.
What she hated most was the pity in the eyes of every person who ever looked at her, even now, three years later. It was bad enough being the only girl, let alone the youngest in a line of seven Weasley children, but to have the words 'fragile' and 'broken' stamped into people's minds when they looked at her was almost unbearable. She wasn't either of those words, although more often than not people failed to understand that.
They didn't know what she was capable of. Half the people she knew went squeamish at the sight of blood, whereas she welcomed it. Most of them couldn't handle pain, let alone bring it upon themselves like she did. For that, she was proud. She laughed at them on the inside, harder and harder with every sympathetic look she recieved. She wasn't weak at all, not the way they thought she was atleast.
Her only weakness was, in fact, the one thing that made her feel stronger than the whole lot of them. The cutting had started long ago, when those first tremors of angst had begun forming a basis for the sorrowful path she would follow later in life. It had not been her, however, that had made the first scar. Tom had given her that.
Of course she hadn't known he was evil in the beginning. How could she? He was so polite, and sweet, and gentle with her, treating everything she said with caring and understanding. He consoled her about the problems she was having with Harry, who she soon forgot, in favor of the kinder man who gave her the attention he said she deserved. Soon, however, she began to understand that he was only using her, but by that time it was too late to break away.
The love she had for him ended down in that chamber, where he had slowly tried to drain the life out of her. That was when he'd cut her. It hadn't been anything well thought out or planned, he was just testing the new strength surging through his veins. Her strength. It had hurt, physically and emotionally, but as she'd watched the blood run down her arm something had stirred in her. Suddenly the sight of her own blood was comforting. She new it was insane, but what did it matter? She was going to die soon, anyway.
Then Harry had come to the rescue and everything was magically supposed be alright again. After that she began to close in to herself, staying away from human contact at all costs. People didn't understand why she wasn't happy, and it wasn't like she could exactly explain it to them, they wouldn't understand. She'd never be able to tell her family that she'd actually loved Tom, and no one could ever understand how betrayed she felt.
So she began to cut, to remember what it was like when he was around. They were only small ones at first, on the inside of her leg where she was sure nobody would see. Then she began to feel braver, taking the razor finally to her wrist, making scars to match the one Tom had left for her, to remember him by.
She was glad people didn't pay enough attention to her to notice. They might make her stop, and she didn't think she could bear to be without this twisted pleasure. It was the only thing that kept her alive anymore, and she knew that one day it too wouldn't be enough to keep her above the waters she constantly felt she was drowning in.
______________________________________________________________________
Draco's story wasn't that much different, although unlike Ginny, he couldn't remember when he had started, or even what had triggered him to do it in the first place. He suspected it was mostly because of his father in one way or another. He had never been physically abused by the man, however he was slowly killing him emotionally.
There wasn't much of a choice in the way of friends when you're father was a death eater. You either fit in with the rest of the world's future evils, or you pretty much stayed to yourself. Draco kept a few aquaintences around, mainly for appearance, but privately he felt just as alone as Ginny, although he didn't know it.
Draco sat and contemplated his scars for a moment, before reaching for the pocket knife he'd gotten for Christmas the previous year. His father had given it to him, and he'd thought about throwing it out, but decided he could put it to good use. The blade stayed sharp and could cut through his skin easily, and would even go through the bone if he'd permit it to. But of course he wouldn't. He didn't want to die, not like this.
________________________________________________________________
Ginny woke up screaming, but a hand covering her mouth silenced her at once. She whirled around to find Draco Malfoy staring at her with what he thought was an indifferent gaze, but she could see the concern in his eyes.
"Malfoy?" she said slowly, not knowing what else to say.
"You passed out in the hallway," he said bluntly, "I pulled you in here because I figured you wouldn't want anyone to see."
"Why wouldn't I?" she asked suspiciously.
"Because if you got taken to Madam Pomfrey, she would have seen these," he replied, gently picking up her arm and pulling the sleeve up.
She gasped and jerked her hand away, "why would you, of all people, help me?"
"That's a good question."
She stared at him, waiting. Finally, she got impatient, "...and?"
He shrugged, "I just said it was a good question. That doesn't mean I have an answer to it."
She stood up, looking slightly exasperated, "what time is it then?"
"I'd say somewhere around 11."
"Shit, it's after curfew! We should go," she said hurriednly handing back the cloak he had covered her with.
With that she ran out the door, leaving him to stare after her.
_______________________________________________________________
The next morning Draco was making his way to Potions when a hand reached out of an empty classroom and dragged him in.
"Can I help you, Weasley?"
"You've already done that... I mean, I didn't really get the chance to last night... it was so late, and..."
"You're welcome," he said indifferently, picking at something on his sweater.
Ginny blushed, "thank you," after a pause, "Malfoy, did you really stay with me for two hours?"
He nodded.
"Will you tell me why today?"
He sighed, "we've been through this already-"
"Don't try to say you don't know, because I know you do."
"Fine, you really want to know?" he asked vehemently, pulling up his sleeve.
She flinched at the sight of the deep cuts on his arm and took a step back, "you... you..."
"Yes," he said angrily, "are you happy now?"
"Why would I be happy?"
"Well, you wanted to know."
"I- I'm sorry, I didn't know it would be anything like that..."
"You just thought that big bad Malfoy had a soft spot, after all," he finished for her.
"No- well, yes, but... Draco, let me see them."
He grudgingly pulled his sleeve up. She traced her fingers lightly over the scars, sending involuntary shivers down his spine.
"You shouldn't cut so deep, it's dangerous."
He scowled, "you're one to talk."
"I didn't mean to do those so deep, it was an accident."
"You called me Draco."
"Excuse me?"
"Not Malfoy, Draco," he continued, with a smirk on his face, "finally warming up to me, Weasley?"
"You could give me the same respect, I do have a first name you know," she replied angrily.
"My apologies, Virginia."
This just infuriated her more, "no one calls me that."
"Under penalty of death, I presume?"
"Stop being a smart ass."
"Right then. I'm going to go before I'm late for Potions. Til we meet again, Ginny," he bowed and exited the room.
She kicked the wall and winced in pain, wondering why he had to be so kind, mean,snarky, and witty all at the same time. It made it all the much harder to continue hating him as she once had. With a heavy sigh she headed off to her own class, deep in thought.
__________________________________________________________________
END!
yes, there will be more chapters, as soon as I figure out where this story is going. that's right folks, unlike the smart people, I never plan fics out too far before I post them. keeps things... interesting. well, reviews are welcome and thank you for reading.
Well... be gentle with me, this is the first fairly long fic I've written that doesn't have either a mary-sue or Harry/Draco slash.
and
WARNING!!! The rating is for cutting, so if blood makes you squeamish, then run... far, far away.
********
She looked down as the blood poured from her skin like a fountain gushing water. 'Well, that's the deepest it's ever been. I've finally hit rock bottom, I guess. Maybe this time I'll die.' she thought as she layed down, emotionless, on her bed. 'I wonder how long it will take before they realize I've gone missing. They have to find me eventually... I bet they'll all be glad to be rid of me. No more Ginny wasting time and space on this earth.'
She curled into a ball, wrapping her arms tightly around her knees and slowly falling asleep. Tomorrow would probably end the same way, even though she really couldn't ever think about life past the next hour. It was summer after her third year, and things were worse than ever for the young red-headed Gryffindor. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't escape the immense darkness that had been closing in around her since she had first come to the school.
Everyone knew the story about what had happened to Ginny in her first year. They'd heard about how she'd been brainwashed by You Know Who, about how she'd set loose a terrible monster on the school for months, and how at the very end Harry Potter, whom she'd had a terrible crush on for the past year and a half, had once again come to the rescue and defeated the dark lord, saving her life.
What she hated most was the pity in the eyes of every person who ever looked at her, even now, three years later. It was bad enough being the only girl, let alone the youngest in a line of seven Weasley children, but to have the words 'fragile' and 'broken' stamped into people's minds when they looked at her was almost unbearable. She wasn't either of those words, although more often than not people failed to understand that.
They didn't know what she was capable of. Half the people she knew went squeamish at the sight of blood, whereas she welcomed it. Most of them couldn't handle pain, let alone bring it upon themselves like she did. For that, she was proud. She laughed at them on the inside, harder and harder with every sympathetic look she recieved. She wasn't weak at all, not the way they thought she was atleast.
Her only weakness was, in fact, the one thing that made her feel stronger than the whole lot of them. The cutting had started long ago, when those first tremors of angst had begun forming a basis for the sorrowful path she would follow later in life. It had not been her, however, that had made the first scar. Tom had given her that.
Of course she hadn't known he was evil in the beginning. How could she? He was so polite, and sweet, and gentle with her, treating everything she said with caring and understanding. He consoled her about the problems she was having with Harry, who she soon forgot, in favor of the kinder man who gave her the attention he said she deserved. Soon, however, she began to understand that he was only using her, but by that time it was too late to break away.
The love she had for him ended down in that chamber, where he had slowly tried to drain the life out of her. That was when he'd cut her. It hadn't been anything well thought out or planned, he was just testing the new strength surging through his veins. Her strength. It had hurt, physically and emotionally, but as she'd watched the blood run down her arm something had stirred in her. Suddenly the sight of her own blood was comforting. She new it was insane, but what did it matter? She was going to die soon, anyway.
Then Harry had come to the rescue and everything was magically supposed be alright again. After that she began to close in to herself, staying away from human contact at all costs. People didn't understand why she wasn't happy, and it wasn't like she could exactly explain it to them, they wouldn't understand. She'd never be able to tell her family that she'd actually loved Tom, and no one could ever understand how betrayed she felt.
So she began to cut, to remember what it was like when he was around. They were only small ones at first, on the inside of her leg where she was sure nobody would see. Then she began to feel braver, taking the razor finally to her wrist, making scars to match the one Tom had left for her, to remember him by.
She was glad people didn't pay enough attention to her to notice. They might make her stop, and she didn't think she could bear to be without this twisted pleasure. It was the only thing that kept her alive anymore, and she knew that one day it too wouldn't be enough to keep her above the waters she constantly felt she was drowning in.
______________________________________________________________________
Draco's story wasn't that much different, although unlike Ginny, he couldn't remember when he had started, or even what had triggered him to do it in the first place. He suspected it was mostly because of his father in one way or another. He had never been physically abused by the man, however he was slowly killing him emotionally.
There wasn't much of a choice in the way of friends when you're father was a death eater. You either fit in with the rest of the world's future evils, or you pretty much stayed to yourself. Draco kept a few aquaintences around, mainly for appearance, but privately he felt just as alone as Ginny, although he didn't know it.
Draco sat and contemplated his scars for a moment, before reaching for the pocket knife he'd gotten for Christmas the previous year. His father had given it to him, and he'd thought about throwing it out, but decided he could put it to good use. The blade stayed sharp and could cut through his skin easily, and would even go through the bone if he'd permit it to. But of course he wouldn't. He didn't want to die, not like this.
________________________________________________________________
Ginny woke up screaming, but a hand covering her mouth silenced her at once. She whirled around to find Draco Malfoy staring at her with what he thought was an indifferent gaze, but she could see the concern in his eyes.
"Malfoy?" she said slowly, not knowing what else to say.
"You passed out in the hallway," he said bluntly, "I pulled you in here because I figured you wouldn't want anyone to see."
"Why wouldn't I?" she asked suspiciously.
"Because if you got taken to Madam Pomfrey, she would have seen these," he replied, gently picking up her arm and pulling the sleeve up.
She gasped and jerked her hand away, "why would you, of all people, help me?"
"That's a good question."
She stared at him, waiting. Finally, she got impatient, "...and?"
He shrugged, "I just said it was a good question. That doesn't mean I have an answer to it."
She stood up, looking slightly exasperated, "what time is it then?"
"I'd say somewhere around 11."
"Shit, it's after curfew! We should go," she said hurriednly handing back the cloak he had covered her with.
With that she ran out the door, leaving him to stare after her.
_______________________________________________________________
The next morning Draco was making his way to Potions when a hand reached out of an empty classroom and dragged him in.
"Can I help you, Weasley?"
"You've already done that... I mean, I didn't really get the chance to last night... it was so late, and..."
"You're welcome," he said indifferently, picking at something on his sweater.
Ginny blushed, "thank you," after a pause, "Malfoy, did you really stay with me for two hours?"
He nodded.
"Will you tell me why today?"
He sighed, "we've been through this already-"
"Don't try to say you don't know, because I know you do."
"Fine, you really want to know?" he asked vehemently, pulling up his sleeve.
She flinched at the sight of the deep cuts on his arm and took a step back, "you... you..."
"Yes," he said angrily, "are you happy now?"
"Why would I be happy?"
"Well, you wanted to know."
"I- I'm sorry, I didn't know it would be anything like that..."
"You just thought that big bad Malfoy had a soft spot, after all," he finished for her.
"No- well, yes, but... Draco, let me see them."
He grudgingly pulled his sleeve up. She traced her fingers lightly over the scars, sending involuntary shivers down his spine.
"You shouldn't cut so deep, it's dangerous."
He scowled, "you're one to talk."
"I didn't mean to do those so deep, it was an accident."
"You called me Draco."
"Excuse me?"
"Not Malfoy, Draco," he continued, with a smirk on his face, "finally warming up to me, Weasley?"
"You could give me the same respect, I do have a first name you know," she replied angrily.
"My apologies, Virginia."
This just infuriated her more, "no one calls me that."
"Under penalty of death, I presume?"
"Stop being a smart ass."
"Right then. I'm going to go before I'm late for Potions. Til we meet again, Ginny," he bowed and exited the room.
She kicked the wall and winced in pain, wondering why he had to be so kind, mean,snarky, and witty all at the same time. It made it all the much harder to continue hating him as she once had. With a heavy sigh she headed off to her own class, deep in thought.
__________________________________________________________________
END!
yes, there will be more chapters, as soon as I figure out where this story is going. that's right folks, unlike the smart people, I never plan fics out too far before I post them. keeps things... interesting. well, reviews are welcome and thank you for reading.
