A Broken Rose

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, or ever will be.

Summary: Draco twirled the rose around in his long, pale fingers. "See this here?" he said, "This is what you call a broken rose." And one deep red petal plucked itself off its perch and floated to the ground.

Draco knew exactly when he had first began noticing her, the youngest Weasley. It had been in his third year, just when his hormones had begun to rage, and her looks had begun to develope. He remembered how he'd watched her dive into the lake one July afternoon right before the year ended, her slender body, too young for curves, outlined to him by her black bathing suit. She had always been tall and slender, and even now you could still see that through her mild curves and subtle breasts. He remembered how her dark hair had darkened even more reminding him of blood. And of course he remembered why she had been in the lake in the first place. Because of the Tom Riddle incident.

Even now, in his fifth year, it made his heart give a harsh pine of regret for what his father had done to her, this beautiful, innocent creature. Ever since that, Ginny Weasley would, every evening, through rain, slate and snow be by the lake. She would swim her worries away, or, if the water happened to be frozen, would just sit there and stare. He knew this because he always watched her. Had watched her since his second year, all through his third and fourth, and still going steady in his fifth.

'But now my father will never be able to hurt her again,' he thought gruffly, a mental image of his father laying in a pool of blood hazing his mind. He smirked. Lucious Malfoy was dead. And thank Merlin for it. He dipped his nose outside again, to watch her float on her back near the shore of the lake, her red hair splayed around her. How he would love to have her red hair splayed around him, her slender cinnamon dusted arms caressing him, and her bee stung lips embracing his own. How he would love that.

And to have her staring down at him, blue eyes wild with lust and passion, and him staring up at her, his hands gripping her waist as she moved and moved, continually, in one steady rhythym. "Faster," he panted, feeling his peak so close he could touch it with his fingertips, but so far, it always moved away. She shook her head in a 'no', her hair brushing its cheeks, her breathing itself harsh, and her sweat dripping onto his chest. He bucked towards her, making her moan his name...

Draco shook himself away from that thought. It would never happen. Ginny Weasley would never let him touch her. Never. No matter how much he pined for her, watched her from afar, oh, no matter how much he protected her, secretly, silently biding his time. He knew she didn't want him like he wanted her. He knew she didn't need him, or...or...anything...

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Ginny always knew when he was watching her, which was everyday. Not Tom. No, Tom had left her alone after...after...She brushed away tears. Tom had gotten what he wanted from her, and then he had left, thank god. But after Tom...Ginny had never been able to...to...forget...to live her life the way she had imagined before she ever knew Tom existed. No, Tom was not watching her. He was. Ginny didn't know his name, or anything about him, she just knew he watched her, everyday, no matter what. She could feel his eyes on her form, feel his hunger for her.

At first she had been scared. Knowing he was there and that she couldn't see him, only feel his eyes and his lust, his love. She was afraid he was another Tom. But after years of his presence, she had grown used to him, and finally accepted him as some one she would never know, but, in a way, always appreciate. Knowing he was there was strangely comforting. Knowing that if something happened to her, he would protect her, no matter what.

Not like he had failed in past occurences. Yes, this was not the only time he was with her, when she was swimming. He was with her in her dreams, in the Great Hall, and even during classes. He was always with her. Her protecter. Her saviour. Her's. On days when she had nothing better to do than to sit beneath the great oak by the lake, she would pine to know who he was. Who was it who loved her so, who watched her everyday, who protected her from life and its terrors? Who?

In a way, she was happy in not knowing who he was. Mystery, longing...It gave her something to think about in her times of loneliness. But in a way she was not. She wouldn't have those times of loneliness if she knew who he was. She could talk to him, and trust him, and love him and...and just be herself.

But for now Ginny was contented in just knowing he was there and he cared. She may not have known who he was, what he wanted, but she knew for sure that he loved her. She knew for sure that he needed her. And she knew for sure that she needed him.

Author's Note: There is my glorious first chapter. Please review, I need some constructive critisism or some praise. I need something. Its gonna be a bit of a dark Fic, if you like that stuff. Draco-Gin mostly. Review.