A/N: I hope any of you who are reading this appreciate the fact that I can write so quickly. Because I'm appreciating the fact that my wonderful beta is willing to read things even at about midnight. And thank you especially to those people who aren't my good friends that are reading this story—it means a lot to me to know that there are people out there who think I write well that don't say it just because they're my friends. (i.e. beautiful-exterior, Akarusa30991, and GinnyYvetteHermione. My thanks.)

Kat—yes, Ginny knows Draco is a Death Eater, as you see by chapter 3. And as to the Dream Team knowing about Draco protecting Ginny...well, you'll just have to wait and see, won't you? ;)

Also, be on the lookout for a shift in point of view somewhere in this chapter. Happy reading!

After a long while, the meeting came to its end with more than one body lying on the ground, twitching (or, as the case may be, still) in pain. Feeling relieved, I Apparated on the spot, and was relieved to see a very tired Ginny sitting on a rock upon Disapparating. She looked up at me, her chocolate-brown eyes dark. "I hate this," she said softly.

I just looked at her through my mask for a while, but then I took it off and said, "I hate it, too." And it was true enough—I did hate it, to a point.

I reached out and helped Ginny up, giving her the aid of my arm to lean on as we made our way back to the castle, through the tunnel I'd used to arrive in the forest. When we got back to my rooms, Ginny sagged heavily against me. "Can I stay?" she whispered, her voice thick with fatigue.

I muttered a spell, and eased her onto my now sheet-covered couch. I draped a blanket over her and tucked a bit of hair out of her face. "Of course," I said to her.

I shrugged out of my robes, trousers, and shirt and crawled into my bed with a heavy sigh, glad to relax my aching legs. For once, I fell asleep without much trouble. Only to fall into another nightmare.

"Father, don't make me," I whispered hoarsely, grabbing at the hem of my father's robes to drag myself up to my very bruised knees. "Please...not Ginny...don't...please no..." I said, my eyebrows creasing with the pain the movement has brought me. "I can't do that to her...not to Ginny, please, anyone but Ginny..." I fell onto all fours, my breath rattling in my throat with a nasty, wet sound that proved I'd broken at least one rib. "I can't put her under the Imperius, I just can't...don't make me, please don't make me!" I gasped in pain, hunching over, clutching my side with pain.

"If you cannot do this thing, boy, then you will be punished. Lucius, take the boy home. See that he is suitably...dealt with," rasped the cold voice that belongs to Voldemort.

"Nooo! Please no! Don't!!!" I cried, getting back to my knees, grabbing at anything I could reach. Voldemort made a nasty sneer, and pulled out of my reach. I was left with nothing but the pain, and the knowledge of the scars I would get from that night.

I woke with a growl in my throat, hopped angrily out of bed, and knocked my bedside table over in my anger. I saved her from undergoing a fucking Unforgiveable, and all I got for my pains were torture, scars, and molestation by my own fucking father. I haven't trusted him since.

In the morning, Ginny was gone again. When I came down to breakfast, and she sat beside me, I noticed that, for once, she looked...mature. She'd cut her hair short and was wearing...makeup? I noticed, of course, but I didn't say a word—after all...I didn't care about Ginny that way. Did I?

Two weeks and three Death Eater meetings passed, with life going pretty much as normal. Ginny and I spent our every free moment together, and by this point in time, we knew each other so well that we were actually able to finish each other's sentences on occasion. Not that I enjoyed that part of it. But Ginny was a very interesting young woman, as I'd come to find out. Some of the things she said were so insightful, despite the fact that she was so young. I gathered she'd learned far more than she should have after being possessed by Voldemort her first year.

I was starting to become attached to Ginny Weasley. Dangerously attached.

And then it was all ruined. All of it. There was a new sixth year Gryffindor, and when Ginny saw him, I knew she was gone, and that I would never have her.

That morning at breakfast, Dumbledore introduced the boy, who had, until then, been home schooled in America. I sneered at him as he stood and waved briefly at the student body before he sat back down. This so-called "Todd Maleir" was shorter than I, with curly, dark brown hair and dark eyes, from what I could see at this distance. Ginny's face betrayed her, and I could tell she was entranced from the very beginning. My thoughts were confirmed when Ginny got up and went and sat down across from the new kid. I sneered again, and returned to my food in silence, my day only getting worse as my old cronies Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, and Blaise crowded back around me. Today is going to be hell.

I found myself staring as Dumbledore introduced the new kid, who was so conveniently in my own house and my own year. With a smile, I stood up and walked over to him, Draco forgotten in my mind as I sank down across from him, extending my hand. "Hello, I'm Ginny Weasley. Also a sixth year Gryffindor."

He nodded and shook my hand. "Todd," he replied with a smile and a twinkle of his eyes. "But you already knew that."

"Yes...yes I did." I realized that he most definitely was not British by his American accent. "So you're from America, yeah?"

"Yeah. I lived with my grandmother until last summer, when she passed away...I came to stay with my uncle, and he thought I needed to be in a real school...so here I am." His eyes twinkled so...mischievously at me, I felt my insides just warming up. He reminded me of Harry—but kinder, and easier to trust. After all, Todd hadn't tried to rape me, had he? I sat up straighter, and winced slightly, my back giving me a bit of a twinge. Todd saw, and got up, coming around to rub my sore muscles. "My grandma taught me how," he said in explanation as his hands worked miracles on my back and shoulders. "She had backaches all the time, so I had to know how to help if I wanted to learn."

I groaned and nodded, leaning into his fingers. I had a feeling that this boy knew a lot more than he seemed to; I was looking forward to finding out what, exactly, he knew.

A/N: I've noticed my chapters are a bit short, but oh well. It'll just prolong the story.