Who We Settle For...And Who We Are Meant For

Chapter Three

One More Heated Round, Stepha's Secret & Noah's Anger

Last Time:

Blaise waited for every one to be paying attention before spinning the bottle with his long, sturdy fingers, that Hermione couldn't help but notice. It went around for a long time, it seemed, as every one watched it closely, cooling off from what had been the first of many heated rounds of this game. Every one held their breathes as slowly, oh so slowly, the bottle teetered and tottered past Blaise a second time...a third time...a fourth time...it was stopping now, easing its way past the person to the left of Blaise, then slowly, almost cautiosly, it stopped in front of the one the only, the Slytherin Prince, Draco Malfoy.

Author's Note: After this I'm not going to be warning about coughstuffcough in the chapters. You're going to have to learn to expect it, and, if your not allowed to read it-Don't. Cuz, I'm afriad it may become a frequent factor in this story. Toodles and Enjoy!

(P.S: An Aussie kiss, if you don't know, is like a french kiss, except given down under :-) Why I'm telling you this, you'll soon find out-and, apparently, so will Ginny. {Not what you think!} )

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Why do you do this to yourself?

It hurts me too, you know?

Why couldn't you have just asked for my help?

Now you have given us all worries to tow

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Draco almost choked on his tongue when the bottle stopped in front of him. 'Oh great, oh great, oh great,' he found himself thinking, wishing silently that he hadn't told Blaise all of his deepest darkest secrets. Blaise was Draco's only friend, and Draco Blaise's, so naturally they were each other's confidantes. Unfortunately, Draco knew Blaise, even in his tired, half-dazed state, would not spare him the embarrassment, just as Draco knew that if he had been in Blaise's place, he would not have spared him either. Trying to keep his voice as calm as his face and eyes, Draco said, "Dare," to the malicious glint of Blaise's cool green eyes.

"What, oh what shall ask you to do, my friend?" Blaise taunted, his voice dangerously mocking to the jeers of the people situated around the circle. Draco swore to himself as Blaise smirked. Blaise's smirk was not as charming as his own, but it was definetly as wicked. "I know!" Blaise said suddenly, his voice pleased and almost pitying, "I dare you to french kiss Potter for five minutes."

Draco should have known this was going to be something with french kissing and Potter. Blaise had enjoyed seeing the first male french kissing session, and had seen with satisfaction that Draco had been amused, but more than anything disgusted by it. Every one, in fact had enjoyed it more than Draco, who being a strictly 'boys and girls go together' man, had been on the verge on gagging. Blaise also knew that Potter was Draco's most hated year mate. No, he did not fear nor was he jealous of Potter. Draco just hated him. Hated him with a passion so strong sometimes it defied the rules of hate itself. Draco had informed Blaise of that in their very first year, merely minutes after Potter had refused his request to befriend him. That was another thing. No one refused a Malfoy what he wanted. Now Draco looked apprehensively across the circle at Potter who seemed at a lost as to what to do. Not for the first time, Draco wondered whether Potter was gay, especially now that he saw the way he hid behind Weasley, like a girl. Shuddering, Draco compared the two scenarios. One, he could refuse to do it and end up screwing some one like Granger, like what had happened to Blaise-though Draco knew Blaise had wanted to get her in the first place. Or two, he could accept and feel Potter's slimy lips upon his own. Draco contorted his face into a look of disgust, and as if on impulse, glanced over at the Weaslette, who was looking at him just as every one else in the room was. This was what Draco had been doing every time the french kissing of two males had become too disgusting. Glancing over at the Weaslette, who had been laughing her pretty arse off. Draco battled with himself for a moment longer, showing nothing of this on the outside, or in his eyes, but eventually came to the conclusion that he would rather take the risk of screwing some other repulsive person in this room, than kissing Potter. "I'm gonna pass," he snarled out, looking at Blaise dangerously, who just shrugged off the look, still looking over at Granger who was looking right back at him, a blush in her cheeks.

Every one in the room, though rather disapointed that they would not get to see some more male on male action, not to mention between to people who hated each other, cheered. The prospect of seeing something like what had just occured between Hermione and Blaise was too tempting. Draco kept his eyes open as the blindfold was placed over them. The last thing he saw was Ginny's face, beaming back a look of major excitement and amusement in those eyes that had haunted his dreams last night.

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Ginny watched Malfoy intently as the draw was placed. He looked so vulnerable with a blindfold over his eyes. Those gray-blue eyes that had not so long ago been staring at her shamelessly. Ginny realized with a smug look that part of Malfoy's main intimidation factor were his eyes. Not that he wasn't intimidating right now, as he was.

There was a squeel of fear mixed with disguised joy as a blindfold appeared over the face of Lavendar Brown. Lavendar was a tiny specimen of a thing, with golden brown hair and hazel brown eyes. She was small-chested, but a bit plump and curvy to make up for it. All in all, she was alright looking. Ginny felt as another binding and silencing spell was molded together then performed on Dean Thomas somewhere to her right. She was his girlfriend after all, and was now going to be 'attacked' in some way by Malfoy, the Slytherin Prince, which in Gryffindor terms, was even worst than what had just happened to Hermione.

Ginny waited in suspense to see what would come out of the bowl. The 'draw-er' as she had been appointed dipped her hand in at an agonisingly slow pace, and even Malfoy was seen to be getting some what impatient as he stood in the center of the circle, waiting for instructions and another body to be pushed towards him. Ginny watched him, now, the way he stood tall and proud. He was around six feet four or so, and was slender for a boy, and lean, his muscles toned so he wouldn't look bulky like what often happened to boys who lifted weights, she saw as he tossed his head around, hands brushing his silver blonde hair out of his face and waiting nervously. Ginny could tell he was nervous by the way his body moved this way and that, the smallest of motions alerting her senses. Some how just having him stand there infront of her was making parts of her that shouldn't tingle do just that. He was so alluring, that now Ginny understood how Hermione, who was lost in a staring contest with Blaise, had thought him hot. He just drew the girls in, Ginny realized, leaning on Noah's arm without thinking.

About Noah, he seemed to be having a good time, Stepha momentarily, though not completely, forgotten. Ginny could feel his apprehension at being chosen for anything without Stepha being here. She knew how hard it would probably be to have to do something with absolutely no chance of the one you love being the one you do it with. That had to be the ruiner of his evening. She, though, also knew that, even though it was making him uncomfortable and shifty, that he was enjoying the game. Being who he was, Ginny was sure, that like her, Noah was having feelings in places that he had never experienced before. Noah had never had a girlfriend, nor, as far as Ginny knew, his first kiss, just like her. They were both completely innocent, not to mention new to what was happening before their eyes.

"Give an Aussie kiss," the draw-er read out, her voice filled with glee. Lavendar squeeled again, this time out of pure fear, and maybe, just maybe a bit of excitement. It was obvious as she was pushed towards Malfoy that she had never been given an Aussie kiss before. Ginny herself had heard of Aussie kisses, but had never seen experienced or pondered about what one might look like. She watched as Lavendar tumbled precariously into Malfoy, who had gone very frigid. Every one in the crowd was racked with laughter, but soon went quiet as Malfoy, with some difficulty, bent down so that his lips could engulf Lavendar's. Ginny felt, very suddenly a pang of jealousy. Why wasn't she the one out there kissing Malfoy? How come she hadn't been chosen? She scolded herself briefly, but was again sent off into a universe of questions that had to do with Malfoy, when she saw him, briefly pinch Lavendar's nimples through her shirt. It was obvious he wanted to get this over with as quick as possible, and Ginny couldn't even see a lump in his pants yet.

She saw, though, when Lavendar threw her head back in pleasure. Malfoy was fast in diving under Lavendar's skirt after he heard the first moan of pleasure, and even faster in slipping his hands up it and back down again, this time with an apparently soaking wet piece of cloth that he left around her ankles. Ginny pressed her legs together again, the pain and hotness was becoming unbearable and this time a certain wetness accompanied it. She was reeling in lust as she watched as Malfoy slipped a long, pale finger up under Lavendar's skirt, testily, making her let out a strangled gasp and collaspe ontop of him. With some difficulty, Malfoy layed her limp body down on the floor, then slowly moved his head under Lavendar's skirt. Ginny flushed in jealousy and anger. She had never been this angry and turned on at the same time in her life. She saw with eyes that fumed inwardly as Lavendar reached down and grasped at Malfoy's silvery-blonde hair running her fingers through it and pulling at it in a way Ginny wished she could, most of his head under her skirt. She began to thrust, apparently involuntarily.

Ginny looked down when it was all over. She couldn't look at Malfoy, who, as soon as it was finished went right back to his seat, using his robe to wipe his mouth and smirking at Blaise. The area between her legs was aching, hot and wet at the same time. She pressed her legs together tightly and resisted the urge to look at Malfoy, or to run over there right now and do exactly what her previous thoughts had been: fuck him senseless. She heard a chortle that was undoubtedly Blaise's and a dangerous sneer that was from the very person she was lusting after so much right now.

She shut her eyes tightly and went to sit down next to Hermione, who was currently leaning her back against the wall and dozing lightly having finished and lost the unofficial staring contest with Blaise. Ginny held her head in her hands squeezed her temples. Desire, if this was the feeling knawing at her stomach like a starving hunger, was not exactly the best feeling when you were in Ginny's place. For one, she was a person who had never felt it before, and here, for her it was painful in more ways than one. Between her legs, for one. That hurt in a good sort of way, though. But in her mind, it hurt in a not so good way. She didn't know why she was feeling this way. It was more than any other girl was feeling in this room for Malfoy. She was drawn to him, like a fish on a hook. She didn't know why, and she didn't want to know why. What she was feeling was more than desire, though she wouldn't readily admit it. Ginny shook her head. She hated him. She hated Malfoy. But then why didn't she feel it? When Ginny chanced a glance at Malfoy, the hate was not there. This boy she had hated for six years was getting to her, she decided. Seeing Malfoy Aussie kiss some one had finally sent her off the rocker in pity for Lavendar, she swore again. It was nothing more. Merely a wound that would heal in less than an hour.

But the wound didn't heal. The game went on until hours into the morning and still, though feeling in her body paled quite alot, the feeling in her mind strengthened. Eventually, the game went on. There were many more scenarios like Blaise's and Hermione's, and Malfoy's and Lavendar's, but from then on, Ginny's mind didn't seem to be there. She stared blindly out at what was happening, often times not even looking. She looked at Malfoy once after that. He seemed rather satisfied with himself, for what reason Ginny couldn't begin to ponder. But the more she looked at him, the more the feeling increased. Where was the hate? Why wasn't it there? What was wrong with her? All Ginny could do was lean her head against Noah's shoulder and wait for the game to end.

The bottle landed on Ginny only once, when Seamus Finnigan was handling it. She had requested a truth, and he had simply questioned, "Do you still have a crush on Harry?" That one had been too easy. But before answering, Ginny had thrown Harry a glance, and he had worn a hopeful look in his eyes. Somehow it was her pleasure to crush both Harry's and Ron's expectations. She had answered truthfully, to the jeers of many of the other boys in the room. Self-consious, Ginny had leaned her head, then simultaneously nuzzled her face into Noah's shoulder. Malfoy she observed, could only stare at her, doing nothing more, with no emotion, as usual, in his eyes. Ginny was beginning to think that something was wrong with him when minutes after she had answered the question he still stared at her, but finally before she could say something witty, he had stopped.

By four o'clock in the morning Ginny was in her bed, her eyes wide open, and sleep refusing, still, to come. She sighed as her stomach grumbled slightly. She didn't know how she was going to live through tomorrow with her hunger already flaring up, even if only a bit. She shut her eyes and lay on the bed for hours, her mind restless. Flicking from one thought another. Her last thought before falling into a dreamless state around seven in the morning was of Malfoy.

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Draco lay on his bed, wide awake. He had brushed his teeth excessively to get the Brown girl's taste out of his mouth after that Aussie kiss. He remembered with satisfaction the look on Weaslette's face when he had finished. She had only looked at him twice after that, and strangely, the second time he had been contented with the fact that she no longer fancied Potter. But the look on her beautiful, young face...that had been priceless. The way she pressed her legs together and looked down, at one point closing her eyes and rubbing her temples. He had done that to her, and that fact made him regretful, and satisfied in a way he had never been before. One side of him regretted not being able to take away the pain of desire from her. The other was satisfied with the information that he could not only put her in the pain of desire, but that she had suffered throughout most of the morning with it. That was the cruel bastard side of him. The side he hated but couldn't get rid of.

And then, his satisfaction had been crushed like a pebble sent through the many years of time, slowly, but surely worn down into naught but dust. She was leaning her head against a Ravenclaw boy's shoulder, and, to Draco, that could only mean one thing in his mind: TAKEN. She was owned property, he had realized with shock and envy. This Ravenclaw boy, he observed with hard eyes, was not that bad looking, and Ginny had every right to like him, to be his girlfriend. But it was just that...well, the pain of desire between the two had been mutual. Just knowing that she was turned on by him so much had sent him spiralling, unwillingly, down the same road. Draco didn't like the idea of lusting after Weasleys, but he knew she was different. When he put her and her family together, he saw black and white. They were a sheet of white parchment, and she a black dot staining it. She was a Weasley, but she wasn't a Weasley. He knew it made no sense, but he didn't care. Tonight, for once he wouldn't care whether or not his father would disown him if he thought about the Weaslette. He just wouldn't care.

Draco fell asleep around seven in the morning, his mind suddenly content at that very moment. That night of freedom, where in his dreams he yet again saw the Weaslette, in all her perfection and beauty, and the completeness she brought to his life, would be the first of many others.

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Ginny and Noah were grave as they both stumbled along the halls of Hogwarts behind Professor Mcgonagal. In their opinions, it was way too early to be up. It was nine something in the morning, and after their late nights last night, both were still tired and grumpy. Slowly Ginny, who had had barely enough time to pull on a pair of sweat pants and a tank top, woke up enough to look over at Noah, who was wearing his boxers and a big T-shirt and looking right back over at her. His eyes were questioning what she might know about this, but all she could do was shrug in response. After a while she recognized the route in which they were taking. It was one to the Hospital Wing, and as they drew nearer to it, the layer of dread that had haunted them by thelake reformed over their heads. Suddenly both knew why Mcgonagal had called them out so early, allowing herself into their rooms and personally waking them up, now escorting them to the Hospital Wing. This had something to do with Stepha. They stopped before the doors to the Hospital Wing, and Mcgonagal spun around and looked at them, her eyes grave and almost sad. "I trust you both know about Stephania Tomco's-uh- disapearance as of yesterday?" she questioned, and Ginny nodded, looking over at Noah, who had gone white under his tan skin. "Today," Mcgonagal continued, "you'll both be excused from your Prefect duties to spend time with her, as she has requested your audience at her bedside." Mcgonagal did not explain the meaning of this, but instead led them both inside, and behind a curtain, where the two found their missing friend, Stepha

At the sight of her, Noah let out a sound like a choke and a gasp put together. Stepha was laying down on a Hospital bed, her arms bandaged and her skin ashen. She looked terrible, with bags under her eyes and a droopy look to her face, her hair more limp than before. Noah's steps faltered, but Ginny continued over to Stepha's bedside, where she sat down cautiously. "What have you done to youself?" Ginny whispered, tears in her eyes.

To her surprise, Stepha's dark eyes fluttered open, and tears flowed out. Seeing where this was going, Mcgonagal quickly strolled away, leaving the three friends to themselves. "Nothing..." the girl breathed out, her voice sounding stronger than she looked. "I'm so sorry, guys...but I had to do it..." Ginny looked around at Noah, he was just standing there, his face white, his eyes pained with worry and the agony of seeing his friend, his love lying here in such a state of misery.

"Do what?" Ginny said, her voice high pitched, "Do what...?" Tears flowed out Ginny's eyes and down her cheeks. She should have listened to Noah and gone into the Slytherin Common Room. Maybe then she would have been able to stop this, this terror. She should have risked death to get to her friend, but instead she had held back, holding Noah back with her. It was all her fault, Ginny blamed, thinking, 'Why didn't I listen? Now look what has happened!' Ginny hid her face, leaning her elbows against the rail of Stepha's bed head. This was like one of her worst nightmares come true.

Sighing in dismay, Stepha said, "I had to cut my self, I just had to. I'd gone without it for so long, but every night seeing the scars still on my skin reminded me of it. And finally, yesterday, I heeded to what I had vowed to stop so long." With that, Stepha sheepishly unbandaged one of her arms, showing to Ginny, and to Noah who was still standing some way off, a cut, deep and slightly bleeding, over another cut, that was set over a scar that was still visible. "I had to punish myself..."

"How come these aren't healed yet?" Ginny asked outraged and on the verge of calling Madame Pomfrey and throwing a fit, "They're supposed to be healed already. Can't Madame Pomfrey heal them? Why do they look like that?..." Ginny was only vaguely aware that she was raving like a lunatic. Finally she stopped and broke down into sobs. Stepha, carefully pulled her close, trying to comfort her sorely distraught friend.

"T-there's a knife," Stepha started stuttering guiltily, "in the S-Slytherin Common Room. It's enchanted to g-give wounds that can only b-be healed with a certain anitidote. M-Madame Pomfrey has yet to get some for me. Instead she has given me a potion that numbs the pain. Right now I cannot feel my arms." Ginny looked up at her friend with tear streaked cheeks, only to find that Stepha's cheeks were in much the same condition.

Ginny felt suddenly horrible. The feeling that this was her fault grew stronger, but she said nothing of it, just knowing that Stepha would counter with something more sensible. Ginny wanted it to be her fault, she realized. She didn't want the blame to be placed on any one else, so she was trying to take it upon herself, even though her reasons for doing so were not valid. "Who f-found you?" she questioned, swiping away her tears as best she could so that she could look at Stepha's face, which, at the sight of her two friends was growing in color, her cheeks flushing at seeing them and her eyes brightening slightly.

"The girls from my room," she said, "found me early this morning after they came back from that Truth or Dare thing, in the bathroom." That made Ginny feel even worst. She had been there, enjoying herself while Stepha bled and revelled in pain from wounds she had inflicted upon herself. "When they found me, I was half-dead and unconsious from the pain-."

Noah, who had been fairly quiet all this time spoke up, his voice quiet, dangerous and filled with the venom of anger, "How can you talk about it like nothing happened? Don't you realize you nearly killed yourself? Don't you realized that if you had died I'd have-" he stopped on that thought and continued with another, his voice growing louder with every word, "You see nothing of the worry-the pain- you are putting me and Ginny through? All because of you!" Stepha began to cry, now, her heart being cut open then mended and cut open again with every sentence uttered from Noah's mouth. He was wounding her, but he didn't care. He was angry. "No, wait," he stopped again, tears coming to his eyes and flowing down his cheeks, though he wiped them away, "its my fault. I should've come and got you, made you stop." He breathed out, swiping at his face, "Its all my fault. Everything is my fault. I'm so stupid. I'm so fucking stupid. Look at yourself!" WIth that he stormed away, the Hospital Wing door slamming loudly behind him.

Stepha cried quietly in Ginny's arm for the rest of the day, her eyes trained on the Hospital Wing door, expecting Noah to come in at any time. But he didn't. Noah didn't come for the rest of the day. That hurt Stepha even more. "I shouldn't have kept this secret from you guys," she sobbed as Madame Pomfrey ejected something into one of her arms and she held on to Ginny with the other, "Now look what has happened! I have lost one of my best friends and..." Stepha yelped and squeezed Ginny's hand tightly as the injection made her arm throb.

Ginny stayed with Stepha the rest of the day, not even going away to get something to eat. She dozed when Stepha slept, but was always on alert. She felt that she was obliged to stay with Stepha, since Noah wouldn't. Ginny asked Stepha numerous times when she was awake, and even out of despair sometimes when she was asleep why she had done this to herself. Stepha would only answer, "I had to punish myself, had to convince myself of something." But no matter what Ginny did Stepha wouldn't tell her the secret behind her words. She was set on letting it rest so.

Ginny stayed with Stepha when she was given the antidote, that, if she had been given any later, would have ended her life. The antidote was actually a poison that ate away at the poison that had been floating around under Stepha's skin, put there by the blade of the enchanted knife that Stepha had used to slice herself open so badly. Thankfully, two hours after Stepha had drank the bitter-sweet liquid, the wounds on her arm began to twitch and heal, the skin lacing itself together with invisible threads. It had been a painful process, and Stepha would have to stay in the Wing for a while longer, but when she came out she would be as good as new.

That night, around eleven when Ginny set out for the DADA corridor, she left with the burden of Stepha's secret and Noah's anger hanging around her. So heavily laden with these worries was she that she did not realize it when Noah, dressed in all black so that he wouldn't be seen in the dark corridors, walked right past her- - into the Hospital Wing, where Stepha lay asleep.

Author's Note: Voila! There's the third chapter, fresh off the bat. I hope I wrote it properly, because this is the first time I've ever done a scene like this, and by 'this' I mean Stepha's cutting. I hope everything is clear and not confusing, if it is, review and tell me so so that I can make changes and re-post it. If is fine, then review me any way, cuz I like to hear what you guys hav eto say. Its very inspirng to know that people like your story, and, even if they don't, it makes you a better writer to understand why. Next chapter is partly done from Stepha's POV. Lets just say the Hospital Wing will be host to some 'stuff'. Thats all I'm saying. Things are going to happen concerning Hermione and Blaise, and Ron will be thrown in, with probably a bit of Harry on the side, put to boil. Further on pretty much all the characters are used. R&R, PLLEEZZZ! :-)