Author's Note: Mmkay… I've got a small plot going for this story now. I was floundering before, but I'll get it figured out. No worries, :P. Hehe. Any input on how the story's coming along is appreciated, and eventually there will be some smut… The chapters will be clearly marked, easily skipped. I'll even give you a summary at the top of the next chapter for any plot advancements, should you skip the chap.

Warning: If you are in anyway attached to Ron, Harry, or any of the Gryffindors, I would advise you to immediately stop reading. This is not a Gryff-kind story. My most humble apologies, but for plot purposes, the Good Guys are bad.

Disclaimer: It's wet again. And cold. And kinda orange…

)KinkyStreak(

Draco rested his head on the cool tile, letting the near-scalding water rush over him. What was he doing? Yeah, hacking off Potter was his hobby, but ganging up with the Weasel and a Loony to do it? It wasn't his style at all. It was more Blaise than his…

Maybe that explained it. It wasn't often he teamed up with anyone with more then two and a half brain cells, so perhaps it was time for him to branch out. He sighed, straightening and pushing his wet hair out of his face.

He had a date with Weasel. How had that happened? Oh yes. He'd followed her to Gryff Central, and literally condemned himself to fraternizing with the Weasley's. How could he, in all honesty, be that fucking stupid?

Growling at himself, Draco grabbed the soap and began washing, more roughly then he would have normally. He watched the soapsuds slide down the smooth planes of his chest with the hot water, and he wished desperately that he could join them. After all, it'd only be a matter of time before his parents broke free of Azkaban and joined the Dark Lord again. If he could disappear before then, everything would be better… or so he told himself.

It wasn't like him to be so optimistic. Optimism had never helped him in his life. Pessimism was more likely the truth, and if you always looked for the worst, it was almost a given that it would happen. That you'd be prepared for it… Optimism could get you killed. Thinking, 'Oh, maybe my enemy will miss and I won't have to move' was stupid and suicidal, and so, Draco was a pessimist to the bone, and yet… He couldn't shake off the feeling that everything would get better.

With a self-disgusted snort, Draco shut off the shower and stepped out, water cascading down his body. He glanced in the mirror of the Slytherin Prefect bathroom and ran a hand through his hair again. It was the only nervous habit he allowed himself, and the only one he'd ever use. What he saw in the mirror, however, made him want to step back into the shower and scrub himself raw.

It wasn't Draco Malfoy in the mirror looking back at him. It was Lucius. Draco blinked, and the image was gone. No… he'd been imagining things. It hadn't been his father, it had been his own reflection. His hair had grown longer, and it hung around his face in damp strings. He'd lost weight since the school year had started, and for that brief flash in the mirror, he'd seen his father, dressed in Azkaban jail robes. His hair long and ratty, cheeks hollow, eyes haunted…

Draco shook himself. Stop being stupid. Lucius is in Azkaban, how can he possibly escape? As much as Draco wanted to agree with the voice, he knew he couldn't. Lucius would escape, the Dark Lord would rise, and Draco would again be trapped in hell.

)KinkyStreak(

Ginny stared unblinkingly up at the curtains on her bed, holding her arm tight to her chest. Ow. It was bad enough that she'd snogged Malfoy in front of the entire bloody school, but then to have her wrist nearly broken? That had been one step taken to far by her dearest idiot brother.

She tugged her shirt off her left arm and nearly gagged. A series of crisscrossed bruises littered her arm, most of them large handprints. She swallowed hard, and examined her wrist. It was beginning to swell, and an angry red line jutted out from her wrist. She tugged her shirt back on, ignoring the sharp stab in her shoulder.

Biting her lip, Ginny sat up, pushing aside the curtains to look around the dormitory. The room was empty, her roommates already gone to start their day, free of bruises and worries. Ginny sighed, swinging her legs out of bed. She envied them, for their carefree natures. At one point in time, she'd been like that. Until Harry had come along and stolen her heart. Now she was fighting to get it back, and the odds were stacked against her.

She made it down to the common room without running into anyone, and she was rather shocked to see Harry and… She froze on the last step, anger boiling to the surface. That asshole. That sodding bugger! He… He was… Ginny bit her tongue hard, fighting not to make any noise as Harry and Hermione tumbled haphazardly onto the couch.

No. She would not cry. Her eyes stung, and she blinked rapidly, moving as silently as possible to the portrait hole. They were disgusting, and she choked, pushing open the portrait. Had he gotten over her that quickly? Had he just been using her, as she'd begun to suspect? Was… was Hermione really the one he'd wanted all along?

She swallowed over the lump in her throat, fleeing towards the library. Surely Luna would be there… or Blaise… Hell, she'd even take Malfoy as a distraction!

When she got to the library, she nearly sobbed in relief, spotting two of the three people she felt she could really count on, sitting at a table in heated discussion.

)KinkyStreak(

Blaise blinked, trailing off as the door to the library swung open. What the hell…? His dark eyes met Ginny's watering brown gaze, and he felt a surge of protectiveness rise in him. It was different then what had happened with Luna, but it was there, and that confused him more then anything else had. Why was he suddenly feeling so strongly for people of different houses? He'd never felt anything other then distaste for them before, but…

He watched as Ginny walked over slowly, cradling her left wrist and sat down calmly in the empty seat at the table. The only signs that anything was wrong were her ragged breathing, the glassy tears in her eyes, and her wrist.

"Gin?" Luna's brow furrowed in concern, and she reached out to touch her friend's arm, but froze as Ginny turned to her. The tears were still there, but a spark of anger had joined them now. "Ginny?"

It was all that was needed to set the redhead off. The tears spilled down her cheeks, and her shoulders shook as she tried to suppress her sobs. Blaise looked over at Luna and the Ravenclaw nodded slightly. He sighed softly, and pulled Ginny into a hug.

"He… he… bastard. I… hate…"

"Sh… relax, little Gryff… Try to calm down…" Blaise rubbed her back for a moment before letting her sit back in her seat when her sobs had subsided to sniffs. "What happened?" Since when had he become so… soft? It would have scared him, if he were able to become frightened. Somehow, the thought of anyone hurting Ginny made him want to find the bastard and crucify him.

"Harry… he's…" She swallowed. "Boinking Hermione."

Luna blinked, "But… you just broke up with him…"

"I know!" Ginny nearly wailed, "He's such a bastard! I can't believe he'd… and I…" She wiped angrily at her eyes, "I hate him!"

"Who hates what?" Draco drawled lazily, leaning boredly against a bookshelf.

"Harry fucking Potter!" Ginny snarled, her fists clenching. Then she winced, and immediately uncurled her fingers. "Ow."

Draco frowned. "Ow?"

"Ow."

"Descriptive… what hurts?" Blaise stood, moving over to her.

Ginny shook her head, "It's nothing… just… Ron." She shrugged with her good shoulder.

"What did he do?" Draco's voice was stone, and his face had drained of emotion.

She didn't answer, instead holding her wrist away from Blaise.

Blaise sighed, "Let me see it, Ginny."

"No." Ginny shook her head, and Draco rolled his eyes, grabbing her wrist and tugging up her sleeve. Her eyes widened, and she bit her lip, muffling a cry of pain.

The Head Boy's jaw dropped, his eyes hardly taking in the angry bruises on Ginny's arm. Draco immediately let go, stepping away from her. Had he caused any of those? He couldn't remember… He poked at his lip with his tongue, remembering the feel of Ron Weasley's fist connecting with it. He wouldn't put it past the great brute… He was action first, thought later.

Luna was the first to speak, "You need to go see Madam Pomfrey, Gin."

"I know." The Gryffindor whispered, "But… it's nearly classes. I've got to get to Charms."

"Do you honestly think you can flick your wand with that wrist?" Luna asked incredulously. "Go to the Hospital Wing, Gin. You're hurt."

Ginny nodded slowly. "Fine… I'll go."

)KinkyStreak(

Blaise couldn't make himself concentrate. The day had been long, infinitely boring, and incredibly stuffy – and it was the second class of the morning. Professor Sprout asked him a question, and he answered it without thinking. Gods, he was bored.

With boredom came thought. It swamped him in waves and bursts, and he found himself completely unable to pay attention to the class. And so his mind drifted, as it had done since the visit to the library that morning.

His concerns about Ginny weighed heavily on his mind, as did Draco's hidden pain, and the jealousy that had been so clear on Luna's face in the library. He shook himself, and fought for control of his thoughts.

Ron Weasley. The name was all that would come for several long moments, then the thoughts flooded again. Ron Weasley was a danger to his sister, and to anything that opposed him. In that sense he was much like Draco, and Blaise. He fought anything that challenged his authority, and some things that didn't.

He was so very much like a Slytherin he denied it with everything he had, and when the truth began to flash… He fought it.

Blaise blinked, jerked back to reality as class ended. Dammit. He was doing it again. "Bloody hell…" He muttered, picking up his bag. He needed to write. Screw the rest of classes… He needed to write.

)KinkyStreak(

Draco sighed, leaning against the doorjamb to Blaise's room. "You're doing it again."

Blaise blinked, looking up from his desk. "What?"

"You skipped lunch. You skipped dinner. You missed all of your classes after Herbology."

"Classes are worthless. I've studied everything in them already."

"I know you have, but they don't."

"Fuck them."

"Blaise." The warning was in Draco's voice now.

"What?" Blaise sighed.

"You are such a pain in the ass."

"I know, but that's why you love me."

"What are you writing about now?"

"Love, life, and the reason it's still around." Blaise's lips quirked, and Draco shook his head.

"One of these days, someone's going to prove you're crazy."

Blaise laughed, "Of course they will, and I just hope it's you."

Draco ran a hand through his hair, lips quirked only slightly. Truth be told, he was worried about his friend. Blaise had so many ideas that once they built up, they overflowed and he would either spend hours talking to nothing or something, or he'd write them out. Whichever process he took, the effect was the same. He'd be fine for days, and then… He'd write for hours. "No worries, Zabini. It will be."

)KinkyStreak(

Babble at the End: I know, KS is supposed to be humor, but… I watched 'A Beautiful Mind' and I couldn't help it. It just flowed… And so I have an ending for this story, however many chapters it will take to get there.

No, Blaise isn't crazy. He just has so many ideas they overflow and he's got to get them out. I'm like that too, so it's all okay;). Comforting thought, right? Loves to all who review and some who don't! - Anndy