Disclaimer: Me no own anything.
A/N: righto… again… last time I read any of this was months ago… seems like forever… I remember very little… ill probably go back and revise the whole thing at some point… ah well… enjoy and critisize
Malfoy sat in his room mesmerized by the picture that he held in his hands. He had picked it up after it fell out of Ginny's bag a few days ago, he had forgotten about it until now when it fell out of his Potions book. It was a beautiful drawing of the morning sunrise, but it was as though it was alive, you could still see the sketch lines and the shadow smudges but the picture moved as though caught forever in that one morning. It was drawn by a lake- Malfoy recognized it as the lake behind the castle. The water's surfaced was rippled by the gentle breeze and the trees swayed their branches slightly. The colors where there but they were light, as though a white translucent screen was over the picture. In the corner of the picture on a small rock, he could see the initials G.W. So Ginny drew this? That must have been what she was doing that morning by the lake. Who would have though a little twirp like that could have such talent? He put the picture aside and crawled into bed. Tomorrow was Friday and they didn't have classes; the teachers had some sort of meeting to discuss some important teacher thing…
Wednesday passed without incidence for Ginny and Thursday wasn't bad either. She hadn't cut herself since then, she was sort of afraid to; she felt powerful, more in control than she had ever felt, and she wasn't used to that. So her knife had stayed safely tucked away in her dresser drawer, and she tried to concentrate on her schoolwork instead. But it had been two days since she had picked up her knife and her cuts were starting to itch; it was all Ginny could do not to scratch them open. Grateful for the day off tomorrow, she climbed into bed and fell asleep.
~*~*~
The next morning Ginny woke up early, like she did every morning when she knew she could sleep in. This always made her mad because once she was up, she couldn't go back to sleep. So she got dressed, and took her journal and leads down to the lake. Before she sat down, though, she scanned the area, to make sure she was alone. Seeing as she didn't find any Malfoys lurking about, she sat down and started to draw. It was still very early though and the sun was just barely visible through the trees, so she didn't notice that she had overlooked Malfoy who had concealed himself behind a large tree. He didn't know what made him go to the lake that morning, but he just had a feeling she would be there. Malfoy was always awake before the break of dawn; he was a restless sleeper. Ever since his father had started performing the Crucaitus Curse on him about two years ago, he hadn't been able to sleep well. Malfoy watched Ginny draw for about five minutes until his curiosity got the better of him. He got up and sneaked up behind Ginny soundlessly.
"So how do you do it Weasley?"
Ginny heard Malfoy's cold voice behind her and jumped with a start. She turned around angrily to face Draco.
"Do what Malfoy, although I doubt whatever you are talking about is any of your business!" she spat at him. How dare he spy on her!
"Make them come alive?" he said, pointing to her picture. The one she was drawing was of an ocean scene; a sunset. She was only half finished with the picture so it was still a black and white, motionless sketch.
"Oh, I –just…" she stuttered out, not expecting his question. How did he know about her pictures? But then she realized that that had been where her lake picture had gone. Malfoy had taken it. "I don't know how to explain it, they come to life on their own when I'm done with them."
" Would you like to see?" she asked hesitantly.
"Uh, I guess so…" He replied just as hesitantly. What was up with this random change in attitude? I thought she hated me… maybe this is some kind of cruel joke…no I don't think so, that look was too sincere… Oh well. And with that, Malfoy sat down beside her and waited for her to finish her drawing. About five minutes later she was done. The result was one of the most beautiful things Malfoy had ever seen…and he didn't exactly go around thinking everything was beautiful.
Ginny laid down her pencils and tilted her paper so that Malfoy could see it better. It was still for a few seconds and Malfoy thought for an instant that she was just fooling with him. But then, color began to sweep across the drawing; the light tan color of the sand, blues mixed with the reds, pinks, oranges and yellows reflecting from the sunset onto the foamy sea. Then it started to move. The waves gently lapped against the shore and seagulls flew in and out of the picture, diving to grab small fish out of the water. It was like a miniature silent color film. But then Malfoy realized who he was sitting next to; the girl who he had been fighting with for the past weeks that school had been going on- the girl he hated with a passion. Quickly he got up and put on his best smirk.
"That's it?" he asked trying to hide his true impression. Wiping the dirt off of his hands he started to walk back up to the castle.
"Not so fast Malfoy," sneered Ginny, making Malfoy turn around, "I attempt to put our previous arguments aside and show you something that I hold very personal, something that I have never shown anyone, and you just act like it's nothing! Well, congratulations Draco. You've succeeded in making me feel like an idiot! What was I thinking, showing my drawing to you?! Draco Malfoy! You would never understand anyway! And what made you think you have the right to spy on me?! Now you better leave before I think of a good curse, and don't even think about threatening me with your wand, you know I'm faster than you anyway. Now get out of my sight!!"
"Whoa, slow down Weasley! I'm going, I'm going! Jeez!"
And with that he left, his cloak sweeping behind him. But what he didn't know that in his hurry to get up, his knife fell out of his pocket. Ginny saw the knife with the fierce looking black dragon carved into it and picked it up. Feeling it's weight in her hand, she took out her own knife and compared the two. Draco's knife was bigger, with a slightly larger blade, and the metal was some kind of dark steel. She thumbed the blade and pulled her hand back quickly as a small bead of blood formed on her thumb. Draco's knife was definitely sharper, and she wondered what he used it for. Feeling as though she needed someway to relieve her anger, she took his knife and brought it to her skin; pressing down she hardly felt any pain as it sliced her skin. It also cut deeper than her knife- the blood came faster and flowed longer. But afraid of being caught by someone in broad daylight she left it at that one cut.
~*~*~
Malfoy was angry with himself for doing something so stupid as to talk civilly to a Weasley- what had gotten into him? But he was angrier at Ginny for yelling at him. Why was he so weak when it came to this girl? She wasn't big or strong or anything- she didn't even know how to stand up for herself until this year. What made her so different from the rest of his enemies? I will beat this "weakness"- just as I have over come every other obstacle thrown at me. I will get revenge. He told himself this but he still could not forget the hurt look on her face after he had laughed at her drawing- he knew she hated herself for letting him get close to her. But know I have the advantage Ginger…I'll just have to find a way to make that journal fall into my possession…
Ginny spent most of her day off outside, drawing mostly; but she visited Hagrid for lunch and he showed her his newest charges for his Care of Magical Creatures classes. They were fenced in from all sides in a sort of dome, and Ginny soon found out why. The creatures were small things that greatly resembled baby turtles- however, they had the ability to float when they pulled their legs in their small shells and popped what looked like miniature umbrellas out. I was quite a humorous spectacle, Ginny thought as she watched the tiny turtle gliding around inside the cage. She also noticed that they had a tendency to meow like cats. After talking to Hagrid for a while, Ginny bid him good bye and walked back to the castle.
She went back up to the Gryffindor common room and smiled at Hermione, Ron and Harry as she made her way up to her room. After the Potions incident Hermione had made Ron tell Ginny what had really happened. She was mad at him for a little bit, but soon she had forgiven him, she couldn't stay mad at anyone for long. That was, with the exception of Draco Malfoy. She felt that having his knife gave her a definite advantage over him. She didn't know if the knife was important to him, or what he used it for, but she knew that if she had anything of his, that he would probably go to many lengths to get it back.
Sunday came, and since Ginny had already done all of her homework, she was bored. Her mind wandered to the hallway she had found with the glass doors. She wanted to go back, so she could explore the room with the guitars; so she climbed through the portrait hole of the common room and set off in search of the hallway. She vaguely remembered going up a flight of stairs that was next to a large picture of some severe looking man- Professor Beaker, it read under the picture. This was when she was still down in the dungeons, so that's where she headed. After about fifteen minutes Ginny had found the staircase to see a small hallway with a statue of some old wizard at the far end. Once in the hallway she didn't know what to do, she just remembered running up the stairway and being in the hallway with the doors. Maybe there's a trap door of some sort… she thought, feeling the walls carefully, in search of some button or lever. After about five minutes of looking and not finding anything, Ginny grew frustrated and went to sit down against a wall and she fell right through it.
Rubbing her head, Ginny sat up and looked around her, seeing that she had fallen into the place she had been looking for. Checking to make sure she was alone, Ginny got up and set off in search of the guitar room. A few seconds later she came to the door and lifted her hand to the knob; hoping it wouldn't be locked. It wasn't. She slowly opened the door entered the room. It was a large, brightly lit room with wooden floors and a high ceiling, it was also circular; Ginny assumed this was so the acoustics would be better. It somewhat resembled a small ballroom. Around the room were many guitars, different makes, different styles, different ages, there were at least a hundred. Electric and acoustic…but the electric ones didn't need cords and amps. They were powered by magic. Ginny saw one that caught her attention, it was electric, a violent shade of purple with black streaks shooting through it, and holes cut out of the body. She picked it up surprised at how light it was and sat down in the chair that was placed in the middle of the room. She lightly strummed her fingers against the strings, hearing the notes ringing around the room before fading away. She had seen people playing the guitar before and had been mesmerized by it- the way their hands fly over the strings and the beautiful chords that came from the instruments. She put the guitar back on its stand and circled the room, taking in the other types of guitars. Some were large and bulky, those were mainly the acoustics; there were oddly shaped ones with only four strings- some had big differences, others were subtle, you only noticed them if you were looking. Ginny was extremely interested in learning to play the guitar, and decided to check out some books on it the next time she went to the library. Leaving the room, she walked the length of the hallway, examining the other rooms, before heading back to the common room and to her warm bed.
About a week had passed when Draco received another letter from his father:
Draco,
I expect you are doing well in your classes. Do not, however, forget about
what is coming up at the end of this year. You will be appointed a Death Eater the
evening you turn 18. I hope that even though you can not physically run through your
exercises that you are running through them mentally. I want you to be prepared for
Lord Voldemort. I have told him many things about you, and he feels that you will be
a strong addition to the group. Remember, do not show emotion in front of him, he
can sense your weaknesses from miles away. Never show your emotion.
Lucius
Draco crumpled up the letter and tossed it into the fire. He was well aware of the fate that awaited him, but he did not want any part in it. He hated his father, and his ways; Draco never wanted to be anything like him, and certainly not a Death Eater. He didn't know what he was going to do though, his father was a powerful man, high up on Voldemort's list.
Thinking about his ill fated future always stressed Draco out; so he looked to his knife to calm him down. Except this time, his knife wasn't there. He looked all over his room and upon not finding it anywhere, he thought about where he could have lost it. The last time he remembered having it was that morning out by the lake, when Ginny had yelled at- GINNY!!! That stupid Weasel took my knife! How dare she?!?! It is time for my revenge, and I will make her pay severely…
Next week, Malfoy decided on, going through his plan of revenge, there will be a quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, I can sneak into her room and steal her journal… then we'll see who's the dominant one.
The next week passed without incident and when Friday came, Malfoy had just finished putting the final touches on his plan. He hadn't cut in a few weeks and the stress was just beginning to creep over him. There was to be another Hogsmead trip next weekend- Halloween weekend, and if Malfoy's plan succeeded, than he would have his knife back by then; he thought triumphantly. For Draco; to cut was to be free.
Draco had started cutting himself a little over a year ago; when his father's beatings became more severe. When he first started to cut, it took him a while to get used the pain, and his cuts were small; only about inch long incisions that he made carefully so no one could see them. But as he got used to the initial slight pain of the blade and the lingering sting and soreness of the cut; he grew more confident with his knife. His cuts got deeper and longer, like the emotional cuts his father left on him. No one knew about his cutting; the only time someone came close was when he had left a blood-stained towel in the bathroom and his mother found it. She asked him what happened and he lied; telling her that he had cut his arm during a fencing practice, and she left it at that. Draco would never admit it, but his cutting was becoming an addiction. He tried not to let it become a dependency because that would show weakness; usually he only cut to relax. Feeling the pain and watching his blood flow from the cuts calmed his nerves. He felt that when he cut, his pain and frustration was released from his body and he was left with the feeling that a dark cloud had been lifted from him.
Draco looked down at the most recent cuts he had made; back in the cave at Hogsmead. The scabs were gone and all that was left were pale scars; ghosts of the slashes that helped him bleed out all of his pain. But he managed to control his urge to cut; just like he had been taught to hide any other emotions behind the mask that was Draco Malfoy. Lucius had never allowed Malfoy to show his feelings- he forbade him to feel. When he beat him, if Draco so much as winced, his father would increase the pain double, triple. Very quickly Malfoy learned that the less he showed- the less pain he felt. So he wore the mask his father forced him to hide behind; the only thing he did show was his anger, his hate, his power. It made people fear him, and if they fear you, they don't question you.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Ginny sat in her bedroom, crying silently into her pillow- this had become a daily tradition for her; why she wasn't exactly sure. But she was lonely; she knew that being a teenager without any close friends was hard, she often saw other girls her age laughing and gossiping, talking about what they were going to wear on their dates the next evening. She never had that, Ginny couldn't even remember the last time she had laughed. She got up from her bed and walked over to her mirror. What she saw scared her; she was skin and bones- her eyes were swollen and blood shot, with dark circles below them. Underneath her robes she was wearing a green tank top, and she could see the scars and red scabs from her cuts littering her arms. She had been cutting more frequently that week, almost everyday; usually with Draco's knife. His was easier to cut with, and drew more blood. Seeing her bright red blood running down her arms was the best part for Ginny; it gave her a rush, made her feel good. But she still hated the way she looked; her golden red hair fell straight down her back and she felt that her bright green eyes were to big and far apart; but she hated her freckles worst of all, large and splattered across her now, Ginny thought them extremely ugly. She never had a high self-esteem, and she guessed that since over the years of not having many friends and not being paid attention to by her family, she just felt kind of worthless. She supposed that since she was the only girl, and the youngest, she just got tossed aside, her parents paid more attention to the boys and didn't really know how to treat a girl. Ginny didn't really expect much; that was how she was treated all her life. But then when she had started Hogwarts and was still ignored, she began to think something was wrong with her. She hated herself for being a Weasley, not that she hated her family, but she was always shadowed by her older brothers. Charlie and Bill were the oldest and the coolest, everybody liked them; Percy was the smartest, and their parent's favorites; Fred and George were the funny guys, the comedians; and Ron was the fearless sidekick to the famous Harry Potter. What was left for her? So Ginny didn't draw attention to herself that much, if they didn't know her, then they wouldn't expect anything special from her. But she wanted to be special, she needed something of her own, something to identify herself with. But still searching for that; she had to resort to something else in the meantime.
Over the years of being ignored, Ginny began to become more and more depressed, keeping her emotions closed up inside with no one to tell wasn't the healthiest thing to do. But she couldn't help it if no one liked her; she thought that since even her family ignored her, that the problem was with her, not other people. She hated being lonely; but she was to afraid to approach anyone- she had tried that before and they just ran away from her. So, now she felt as though her knife was her only friend, she was the only thing she could depend on. She hadn't intended for it to be that way when she had first started cutting. But it was becoming a habit, as though she was drawn to the blade. She found familiarity in the pain it brought to her, it was the only consistent, sure thing in her life.
So now she sat there, looking down at the two knives in her hand. Like it's owner, Draco's knife was dark and cold, the red eyes of the dragon stared emptily out into space; but Ginny's knife was her opposite. While it was light and colorful, the sprite's eyes laughing; Ginny felt dark and sad. She felt that Draco's knife fit her personality more. It had been a week since she found it, and she thought that he would have done something by now. This worried her some but she tried not to let it get to her. On a lighter note, she had gotten some books from the library on guitars, and had been going to the room almost every day that week. Ginny was a natural, she had already mastered a lot of chords and tried playing out a few melodies too. She loved playing the guitar, she could make it sound like any emotion she wanted it to. There were different pedals, she learned, that went along with the electric guitar that gave it different sounds, and there were things called picks that you strum with, that gave the notes a louder, clearer sound. After she had gone through the slight pain of building up the calluses on her fingers she stayed in the room until late at night, playing for hours. Friday night after she had come back from playing she was in such a good mood that she didn't feel the need to cut; that was the first night that week. But unfortunately for her, her elated mood wouldn't last for long.
The next morning came clear and warm with a slight breeze, the perfect weather for a quidditch match. Ginny made her way to the Great Hall feeling happier than she had in weeks. She even laughed when she saw Harry's face of disgust as he was watching Hermione and Ron baby talking to each other.
"Knock it off you two, that's repulsive, and it would do me well not to empty my stomach before this match." said Harry in repulsion. The two glared at him in good humor but stopped.
"So, how do you think we'll do Captain Harry?" asked Ron, mockingly. Gryffindor was, by far the best team of the four. After Fred, George, Alicia, Katie, Angelina and Oliver had all left, it was up to Harry- the only person left on the team, to pick out new players. Dean Thomas, of their year was the new Keeper, and Lavender Brown; while a bit ditsy in school, was extremely talented on the field, and was one of the new beaters. Ron was the other. The other three players, the Chasers, were younger; Orion, was a tall, somewhat pale boy with black-hair, which was usually worn in tall spikes, in Ginny's year who tended to get in trouble more than what was good for him; he already had McGonagall threaten to throw him off the team once this year. He managed to charm his way out of most of his punishments though, he took after Fred and George. Olesia, and Kiera the other two Chasers were both in 5th year.
"I dunno," said Harry, " Ravenclaw has a new seeker- Christian's been pretty sick for the last couple of weeks and they needed to call in a new one. She's only had a couple of weeks to practice- her name's Jade I think- but I've seen her on the field practicing and she's pretty good. I still think we have the upper hand though. I think this is one of the best teams Gryffindor's ever seen."
"YEAH!" shouted Orion, hearing the last part of Harry and Ron's conversation. He started banging his fists on the table, starting everyone else in their cheer. GRYFFINDOR! GRYFFINDOR! GRYFFINDOR! getting faster until it was just one big loud commotion. Ginny had had somewhat of a crush on Orion, and it was times like this, when his true immaturity showed through, that she wondered- why?
After breakfast the students all headed out to the Quidditch pitch to watch the game. Ginny sat with Hermione and they cheered together as Gryffindor scored goal after goal, finally resulting in Harry catching the snitch, and winning the game (go figure). Ginny had been having such a good time that she didn't notice that Draco wasn't there, giving her the cold stares that had become habit for him. No, Malfoy was off, doing other devious things…
~*~*~
Malfoy had been in his room for the last part of breakfast, and had been running over the steps of his plan. Hoping that his invisibility charm would hold up, he headed towards the Gryffindor common room. He knew where it was because he had followed a couple first years to it the other day. As he walked up a flight of stairs he was startled when he noticed someone was walking beside him. He almost threw out an insult when he realized that he was invisible. He noticed it was a Gryffindor, and followed him quietly to the portrait of the Fat Lady. It was a good thing to, because as the boy said the password (Marvilous pigs in satin) he noticed that it was different from the one he had heard the other day. Quickly, he followed the boy into the common room and walked towards the stairs. He stopped when he came to the small hallway that lead to the prefects rooms and slapped himself mentally. I am truly an idiot! Yes well it would have been hunky dory to just walk into the common and strut my way right into her room, assuming of course that there WASN'T A PASSWORD on her door. Stupid. Stupid. Trying to think of a password to get into Ginny's room was difficult- what would it be? Throwing his hands up in frustration after trying everything he could think of, Draco tried her name. Huh! Go figure, it worked!
The large painting of an earth fairy moved out of the way and Draco walked into Ginny's room. He noticed that it was very similar to his (yes he's a prefect! he maybe mean but that doesn't mean he's stupid) only in different tones, hers had a warmer, more welcoming feeling, with a four poster bed and a fire burning in a small fireplace in the corner. He walked over to her desk and pulled open the drawers, in search of her drawing book. Not finding it there, he looked under her mattress and in her bureau- it wasn't in either of those things though. Finally he knelt down at the end of her bed at her chest and opened it. Rooting through some books and clothes he found what he was looking for. Putting a spell on the room to make it look as though it had before he had entered it, he left. But in place of Ginny's book he left a small note.
~*~*~
Ginny walked back to the common room with Hermione in good spirits; after the game, the two girls met up with the team and in congratulating them, Orion had given Ginny a hug. Pulling away nervously he grinned sheepishly at Ginny and ran off quickly. Walking to her room, almost dancing- Ginny went to get her journal out of her trunk when she realized that it wasn't there. Panicking, she rooted through her whole trunk and found only a note lying at the bottom of the chest. She took it out and saw that it was written in green ink- her mind instantly went to Malfoy. Her panic turned into anger as she read the note. It said: Meet me in the dungeon three down from the Potions class at ten tonight. Bring whatever you feel might be necessary. D.M.. She knew that he meant the knife Crumbling the note up, she threw it into the fire.
Ginny waited anxiously for that night to come. She paced around her room so many times that eventually she gave herself a headache. She was nervous about confronting Malfoy this time- he had something that meant more than anything in the world to her. Her journal. Even though Ginny had it for only a little more than a year, she also kept all of her old poems songs and pictures in it as well as her new stuff. She sat down on her bed and debated about what to do; if she didn't go, she wouldn't have to face Malfoy, but she then realized that that would probably be worse and result in some ugly public display of Malfoy's idiocy. And she would still be minus her journal. With that thought, she realized that Malfoy probably saw what was in her journal…Her heart sunk at the thought of what Malfoy could do with her journal- it was the most personal thing she owned. Her poems were often dark reflections of her soul, and Ginny worried about what Draco might say to people about her. So she resolved, with determination and ever-growing hate for Malfoy, that she would meet with him that evening.
As Ginny had presumed, Draco was reading through her journal, but his reaction was not what Ginny had thought it would be. He was confused- how could this happy little girl write such dark things? Could she really feel this way inside? He felt as though she had written all of her poems and songs, about his own feelings; they described his loneliness- it was though Ginny had written from his heart. Did she really feel this way too? But he couldn't help but feel as though he had just uncovered everything personal about Ginny- no one should have read this without her permission. He felt weird, almost ashamed, Draco had never felt ashamed before, and now he tried to put it to the back of his head. She shouldn't have taken my knife in the first place! Darn that little Weasley! How dare she think that she can just come into my life- insult me, and then take my knife as though she has every right to! Thinking about Ginny always made him angry, and now he couldn't wait for that evening to get his knife back… but he still couldn't shake that guilty feeling from his head.
It was almost time to go, and Ginny was beginning to get a little nervous…but not wanting to chicken out, she headed out a few minutes early. As she turned the corner after she left the common room, she almost ran into Orion.
"Oh, sorry, I-" she started.
"Hey Gin! Do you mind if I call you that? So, where are you going? It's almost "bed time"!"
"Oh, I was just going to take a book back to the library- it was due today and I almost forgot," she replied.
"Ah, yes, and we wouldn't want Madame Pince to get mad!" he said shuddering at the thought, "Alright, well, uh, I guess I'll see you around!"
"Yeah, okay! See ya later Orion!," said Ginny hurriedly, while walking off. Now she had to hurry not to be late.
"Later, Gin!"
Wow, she thought, he called me Gin… In her stated of happiness, Ginny almost forgot where she was going, but when she remembered, her anger came flooding back into her. She gripped Malfoy's knife through her pocket, and felt hers beside it. She wasn't sure why she brought it, but she did. Finding the dungeon that Malfoy had indicated, she walked into the dank room, and sat by the small fire that failed to give off any heat. Just as she was beginning to think that Malfoy was a no show, he stepped out of the shadows.
"So, you showed, Ginger." Drawled Malfoy lazily. Ginny looked to see if he had brought her journal, but didn't see it in his hands.
"Yeah, so?"
"I believe you have something of mine," he stated coldly glaring at her out of his cold gray eyes.
"As do you." she replied, just as icily.
"I assure you, Weasel, that it would do you well to give me back my knife, after all, I'm sure you wouldn't want this journal to fall into the wrong hands, now would you?"
Ginny laughed shortly, "If I am correct, I believe it already has," but then she thought of what the consequences could be if she messed with Malfoy. "Did you read it Malfoy?"
"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. That's irrelevant. What matters is are you going to give me my knife or will I have to make you the hard way?" With that he took her journal out from the depths of his robes and dangled it precariously in front of the fire. Ginny's eyes flashed and Malfoy smirked at the look of fear that had passed across her face.
"You wouldn't Malfoy!" said Ginny, trying to keep her cool.
"Wouldn't I? Why don't you give me my knife, before you have to find out."
"Fine, take your freakin' knife, Malfoy!" she practically yelled, throwing it at him. "But, you know, this is no way to live a life, going around, insulting people, blackmailing them to get whatever you want. If you continue to live like this, you are going to be one extremely hated person Malfoy."
"Oh, but I already am, Ginger." And with that he threw the journal into the fire, turned on his heel, and left with his knife.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" screamed Ginny. She ran over to the fire, but her common sense kept her from reaching into it to retrieve her journal. She sat and watched her journal burn, tears streaming from her face. All of her poems, all of her songs, all of her pictures, were now ashes in front of her face. She got up, in somewhat of a state of shock at Malfoy's cruelty, and left the room. Little did she know, Malfoy was right behind her- he had been hiding behind a suit of armor. But Ginny didn't go back to her room, instead she went outside to the lake.
It was full moon, the bright orb reflected brightly against the water as Ginny sat down on the shore. She felt so hurt, so empty; all of her most personal revelations and thoughts that she had poured out into that journal were gone. How could Malfoy be so uncaring? She asked herself. Her tears fell silently down her face, as she took out her knife. She didn't know why, but whenever she cut, she felt her pain go away. So she pulled up her sleeve and started methodically running the knife down her arm. After about five cuts she stopped and watched the blood pour from her broken skin. She already felt better. But just then…
"What are you doing?!" asked Malfoy, stepping out from behind a tree. Startling Ginny, she quickly tried to hide the cuts and slid her knife under a rock. Malfoy laughed at this.
"It's too late Ginny, I saw you." But it wasn't the usual cold mocking tone that he spoke in, it was something different; kind of like understanding…
"Well, are you satisfied? Now you just have more tragic stories to tell about poor, pathetic Weasley. Why do care what I do anyway? I would think that watching one of your worst enemies mutilating themselves would give you extreme pleasure." She spat out.
"Well normally it would… but I know how you feel." With that statement, he knelt down beside her and pulled up his sleeve. She recoiled at his proximity and from what she saw. The scars were innumerable; some of them were shorter, only an inch or two, but the bigger ones were actual designs. Crisscrossing spirals down his arms, and swirls along his shoulders. They looked more recent, as though they had just faded into scars. Reaching out, she wanted to touch them, somehow looking at the wounds on another person wasn't the same as it was looking at your own. She felt pain for him, and was about to ask him about his cuts, when she remembered who she was looking at. That idiot just threw away my whole life story, almost everything that actually mattered to me is now keeping some rat warm in a dungeon. She gave him a look of deep disgust.
"Great, well thanks for showing me, but I don't believe that what I do to myself is any of your business. So now, if you don't mind, I'm going back up to my room. And I will trust that now since I know this about you, you will keep your mouth shut about me."
Malfoy put his sleeve back down and stood up, a mask of confusion, anger and understanding clouding his face. Crossing his arms, he nodded at Ginny's command and stood there watching her walk slowly back up to the castle. He was slightly mad at her for rejecting him; but then he reasoned that she had good cause to be. Her tears were filled with so much pain, and it hurt him to watch her cut herself. He was so confused; he hadn't felt compassion in years; and if he did, it was only for himself. He felt the way Ginny did when he saw her arm. Seeing someone else hurt themselves was harder than to do it to yourself. Draco wasn't sure why he cared about her, but he did. He wanted to know why she did that to herself, why she was so much like him. He hadn't wanted to get into this kind of mess, but he realized that he couldn't go back now. What did I get myself into?
~*~*~
Ginny had been out for about an hour, so it was almost eleven when she entered the Common Room. As she expected it was empty, well almost…
"Hey Gin! Fancy meeting you here!" said Orion, jumping up from his chair, "I made the mistake of drinking waaay too much cappuccino earlier, and I knew that it would be pointless to even try to go to sleep, so I came down here to play my guitar a bit! So, your just getting back from the library? Got lost, huh?"
Ginny knew that he knew that's not where she really was, but she was grateful that he didn't ask her the truth.
"Um, Yeah- moving staircases, you know how they are…" she laughed slightly nervously, "so, you play guitar?"
"Yeah," Orion replied, walking back to the chair, and picking up his guitar, "I know it's more of a Muggle trend, but my Uncle's a Muggle and he gave it to me a couple of years ago. Besides, it's one of the few things that I can do fairly well, that and Quidditch." He grinned at Ginny as she walked over to observe his guitar. It was metallic black around the outside and bright neon blue in the middle, the words Mach V on the side of it. It was a Dean guitar.
"Wow, do you think you could play something for me?" Ginny asked tentatively.
"Um, uh, yeah, sure I guess…" he stuttered nervously. But Orion regained his composure when he started playing. Ginny closed her eyes, listening to the magically amplified chords echo throughout the empty common room; it was a sad sounding song, slow but rich. He was amazing, and Ginny was even more surprised as she heard him start to sing to his somewhat melancholy tune. His voice was the most moving things Ginny had ever heard, it was deep, and he sounded as though he was putting his whole soul into the words that he sang. Ginny was stunned at how such a mischievous, comedian, had such a serious, enchanting voice. When he stopped playing Ginny opened her eyes to see his bright electric blue eyes staring deeply into her green ones; but then he looked away nervously, grinning shyly.
"That was amazing Orion. Wow, I only wish that I could play as well as you.."
"You play too??" asked Orion. Now it was Ginny's turn to grin shyly.
"A little bit, but I'm nowhere near as talented as you are!"
"Maybe you could play something for me sometime?"
"Yeah, maybe... Well, it is kinda late…I should probably go to bed now…" said Ginny, not wanting to leave.
"Alright, I'll see ya tomorrow Gin. Don't forget, we're working with the Scoobers in Care of Magical Creatures!"
"Okay! Thanks for letting me hear you play, Orion, you really put me in a better mood! Good night!
"Night Gin!"
And with that, Ginny walked up to her room and fell onto her bed. She was so exhausted, physically and emotionally. Draco had left her feeling mad and depressed, while Orion had lifted her spirits; she wasn't sure what to feel. She was happier now, but she still felt an emptiness from losing her journal. Tossing and turning, Ginny fell into a restless sleep.
~*~*~
Draco stood under the moonlight contemplating what had happened earlier. He didn't know what to think. Ginny cut herself, and now she new that he did too. He didn't think Ginny would tell, but what reason did she have not to? He had destroyed something that meant a lot to her, or so she thought, and she would probably want revenge. So is this the way it would be? Just one big revolution of one person pulling a prank or throwing an insult, and the other getting revenge; Malfoy thought he would go crazy if this continued on for the rest of the year. But now, he felt that revealing himself to her had changed that. He wasn't sure of how Ginny would act towards him now, and he wasn't all too sure of how he would act around her. Yawning, he decided that he might be able to think better after a nights sleep. He walked back up to castle and to his room, and dropping onto his bed he fell into a deep sleep.