Title: Being
Nice Doesn't Always Pay Off…
Author: Cactuskitty
Chapter: Sixteen
Summary: Ginny gets angry with a friend and decides that it's time for
her to change. In this chapter, Pandora's box is opened.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from the Harry Potter book series, they belong to J. K. Rowling, so please don't sue. All I own is the little plot there is, Hillary, Tibby, and Ryan… But that's not much to brag about.
Chapter Sixteen: Sardonic Blood Spilt on Hospital Sheets
Harry snapped back into consciousness and wiped the cold sweat that was dripping down his face on the back of his hand, "Damn," he swore as he spat blood out of his mouth. "Your disarms are just as strong as mine if not stronger."
Harry let out a morbid little laugh that echoed in the empty chamber. His hand came into contact with something warm and sticky as he rubbed the back of his splitting head. It was blood just like that iron taste in his mouth, he could tell by the texture. As if he hadn't come into contact with it many times before. Blood was all over him. Harry could feel it as it dried on his pants and shirt. His slashed arms ached in result of being slammed into the wall so many times, and dragged across it. Blood was everywhere, his feet stuck to the floor as he dragged himself off of the ground. As his silent, brooding instructor seemed more withdrawn during the sessions, the more injuries appeared on Harry's thin pale body. Harry normally wouldn't allow himself to be abused, yet he knew that this was the sort of suffering he would have to endure if he ever wished to fully take on Voldermort. Therefore he grinned and bore it, as he staggered against the wall before shooting off a severing charm towards the golden haired boy across the room.
The charm was easily blocked, and his instructor's smirk was barely visible in the poorly lit chamber. "Nice try Potter, but next time try not to pass out. Your opponent will not only consider that your defeat, but also ensure that you never awake again, like your parents or that boy that died in your place last summer. That it self should have shown you how ruthless these death eaters are. They have no problem conjuring forbidden spells, because they truly do hate. Truly and deeply. Their feelings are raw, therefore you can't afford to be so. . . weak." He shot off a stunner in Harry's direction, but Harry managed to block it.
Harry hated that word, it was the same word that rung through his ears every moment of his day. If he hadn't been so weak Cedric would not have been slain and Sirius…Well, Sirius… His teacher was taking low blows to ensure his anger, and it was sure as hell working.
"Relashio!" Harry shouted and a jet of blazing sparks shot at his instructor, but was soon repelled. He began shooting random embers out of his wand while he yelled in fury, "I suppose it's easy for some one like your self to speak of things like death so frivolously." He sent another and spat more blood through his teeth, "Especially since you're considered dead already. Not that it made a difference, not to anyone, because as far as they're concerned you're dead and buried in more way than one. And they've all continued living. Some lots faster than others, especially Vir—" Harry was cut off as his instructor put him into a full body bind.
"Do not speak of things you do not understand, Potter." The golden haired boy replied smoothly, however his shaking hands gave away his anger, but Harry wasn't brave enough to mention it, "Anyhow, my past relationships have nothing to do with the fact that you still can't steadily hold your own in a fight. We are through for today. Go see Madam Pomfrey about that cut and I'll see you again Thursday."
Harry nodded curtly and began to brush soot off of his blood-spattered hand-me-down jeans, another pair ruined, and the blood off his chin when his instructor approached him, but not at all in a professional manner. He spoke to Harry as the young boy he was. "Has she really moved on Harry? Not that I care, that's great for her, but it's only been little over a month since my 'death.'"
No matter how much he knew his instructor deserved it, Harry instantly wished he could swallow his words, and he began to create an explanation. "Well, I'm not sure. Everyone says she has, but she's never spoken of it with me. She just brushes it off every time I bring it up, and makes it seem a little more like a bother than pain. But I think she's just still in denial…"
His instructor eyed him suspiciously, "Is that what you really think Potter? You know I can handle the truth. In your personal opinion, has she moved on? Is she seeing someone else? I'm not weak like you, Potter, I can handle the truth…" Harry's eyes blazed and he instantly realized that he would loose no sleep over the pains of this bastard.
"Damn it Nightingale, she's been everything but shagging a death eater's son since the first day of school! They meet everyday in the library and 'discuss books', and I saw him kissing her once by the lake. Yes, she's moved on, damn it. And I would have moved on too if I had been dropped that way, you bast—" His rant was cut off as his teacher's fist collided with his jaw and the slightly faded taste of blood returned once again in a tenfold as he bit a hole through his tongue. It was then that Harry realized that he really had to work on his temper.
His instructor was breathing heavily, as his golden eyes shot daggers through him. "See you Thursday, and learn to control your tongue or I will control it for you." He laughed and Harry broodingly picked himself up and exited with out another word… Not that he could have said anything anyway.
* * * *
"What the fuck did you do Potter?" Ginny questioned coldly as she stepped in to the infirmary that evening after Ron's news. Harry had gotten real messed up doing something, but he wouldn't tell anyone what.
"Watch your bloody language wench!" Ron protested, but only to be ignored as Ginny began ranting.
"Damn it Potter, why do you always have to play the goddamned hero? Can't you just leave it people who know what they're doing? You damned little ego maniac… If you keep screwing around like this you're going to end up dead. It'd serve you right for being such a bloody long necker…" Ginny's voice was as dryer than a desert and her glare showed nothing but utter disappointment.
Her hands were shaking in fury, she clenched them in fists to stop her from loosing control. Until she felt her long black nails slicing her skin and chose to grip the chair instead. She wanted nothing more than curse this bloodied up boy into oblivion, but she knew for a fact that the only way he would even learn would be on his own. No lecture from radical little Ginny was going to make the slightest difference in him or his actions. Just like her brother trying to bring the old Ginny back. You can't change anything unless you really want to… And the question now was how many people need to die before Harry could change. Because she knew by his apologetic look that this was just the beginning.
"Damn it Gin! The guy is beaten to a pulp! Can't you give him a break!" Ron yelled at the top of his lungs causing both of his friends to flinch, but Ginny's eyes staid focused on the battered boy.
Then Hermione spoke, "She does have a point Ron. Harr, you do really need to take more care of yourself. You always seem to forget how many people care about you when you jump tactlessly into these sorts of…"
Ginny's ears sealed up, she couldn't bear to listen to anymore without falling. She silently stood up and exited the room while all attention was on Hermione. It was too much for her to handle emotionally. She wanted to cry, scream, and kill someone all at the same time. How could he be so stupid? So insolent… First she had to deal with the death of Ryan, now this? She knew he was up to something, but usually when he is he'll drag Ron and Hermione into the trouble with him. This was out of character. Something huge was definitely up – something that was shortening his lifespan. She was going to get to the bottom of this, but how do you track someone with an invisibility cloak?
Ginny noticed she was hyperventilating, but she didn't' stop walking. She couldn't. She was no longer in control of her body, or her mind for that matter. What should she do? What should she do? There was an inexplicable force pulling her and she couldn't stop walking if she tried. She was out of control and at some level she loved it.
That was until Ginny ran into something hard, causing her to snap out of it. That was when she realized that she had no clue where the hell she was and found herself in the presence of the devil himself.
"Hello weasel." The devil smirked and she could feel her blood run cold, "You're the last person I would expect to find outside the Slytherin common room, especially since it's so far from everything else and this hall leads nowhere but here... Perhaps you were looking for something – or even more likely, someone?"
Ginny just stared. She couldn't move, because she feared that if she did she would do something she would regret for the rest of her days at Hogwarts. So she just watched as the devil's smirk broadened and he continued speaking.
"I'll take your silence as a yes. Oh weasel, I always knew you'd come around… Let's talk somewhere more comfortable than this stifling hallway, because I can tell by your stupid look that you need it - that or you're just too in awe at my presence that it has rendered you speechless. The common effect I have on girls, so I'm not –" He was then cut off by something that neither of them expected.
A/N: Sorry that it's taken me so long to update, but life's a bitch you know. And my life has been especially hellish in the past two months. I was involved in a huge theatrical production, my mother was in the hospital, and my brother is having huge problems. I have had a couple nervous break downs, depression relapses, and my boyfriend broke up with me. All these things can be blamed for this late , bloody, and short chapter. I am very sorry, but please excuse me. It's just been really hard to write anything let alone fanfiction.
Thanks for my reviews and my beta, Mists of Avalon. You all rock my socks.
