Stained with Ink
Ginny collapsed onto the hospital bed. Her legs were ablaze again. Pain shot through her body in small spurts every few seconds. What was happening? To help ease the pain, she whimpered, squeezing the pillow in her hands for dear life. As suddenly as they had started, they stopped. It felt as though a bucket of ice water had been poured over her legs. Shivering, she thankfully welcomed the water quelling the fire burning inside of her. It now reduced to smoldering ashes deep in the pit of her stomach.

Ginny stood up and as she did, she fell back down immediately. What? It was like half her body was trying to rebel against what she wanted to do.

You didn't relax, said an annoyed voice in the back of her head. Ginny was startled. She looked around the room to see who was talking. When she saw no one, her thoughts began to swim around in her head.

Oh joy of joys, I'm having a mental breakdown. They'll have to take me to the cuckoo's nest. I'll be kicked out of school... she thought, beginning to panic, pounding at her head to try to get the voice out. It sounded like there was a slight chuckle back there, but she didn't know for sure.

You said you would relax. You claimed you could be a big girl and relax when I-

Tom? The voice paused when she interrupted it; like it was thinking of the best way to put something.

You didn't know who I was? Then it continued. Who else would I be?

Tom, I didn't think you would be in my mind. There was silence on both sides. Neither one of them wanted to be the first to talk- or as the case may be- think. Tom wanted Ginny to come out and say how joyful it would be to have them always connected like this like she used to be, where as Ginny wanted Tom to explain why he was connected to her in this way. You have a lovely voice, admitted Ginny after she was tired of waiting. Tom, surprised, sputtered before getting out a complete question to Ginny.

You've never heard my voice before, princess? Ginny shook her head, having no answer because she had never seen or heard or read Tom act surprised. It was like everything to him was the seventeenth time he had seen it. Nothing was new to him, so he was always calm and collected, much like Draco. They were so much alike. Now, you must relax. It is imperative for the success of this journey I have made. Ginny stopped paying attention as he, like her brothers, just went on about a simple little accomplishment like they were the great Harry Potter. So he had established a connection between their minds, like that was so great. He hadn't defeated the single most powerful wizard in the world. For some reason, she thought she felt Tom get agitated at that thought of hers.

Tom, I hate to tell you this, but it is rather hard for me to relax when there is someone running about my mind. Ginny felt her face flush with color as she was filled with an anger that was not hers.

With gritted teeth, she heard Tom think to her, Just relax.

She did as she was told, keeping one small part of her aware of what Tom was doing, and she felt her feet move and take her somewhere on their own accord. They were leaving the room, dragging her step by step down the stairs and through random doors. Where were they going? Ginny felt herself stop, and opened one eye to peek at where they were. Opening both eyes in marvel, she saw an elaborately carved door, tinted a sierra hue. The door creaked as Ginny pushed it open and walked through. Tom was humming a little tune to himself, making Ginny do the same. The bathroom would have been nice if it had been properly cared for. There were a myriad of water stains all over the floors and on the walls, making the atmosphere feel a lot like the Weasly twins' room. She found it odd that she had never been in here before but thought there must be a plausible explanation that none of the prefects ever directed her to this bathroom. That's when she heard the weeping.

A girl, probably around Percy's age, had locked herself in one of the stalls and was crying herself out. Rather loudly too, if you think about it. Ginny headed towards the hall, intent on calming this poor girl down. Tom frowned and slightly nervously jerked her away from that whole side of the room. Glaring, Ginny started a fight with herself just to do a simple thing. Eventually, she got the best of that old Tomcat, or maybe he let her win, and she stood in front of the stall perplexed. The crying had stopped, and she couldn't see anyone's feet under the stall door. Well, they couldn't have disappeared…

Are you okay in there? Ginny asked, knocking on the door twice.

Tom sighed exasperatedly. In your head, princess. But it doesn't matter. She's dead. Ginny stared up in disbelief at the corner of the wall where she imagined Tom was so she could have something to talk to. She laughed, somewhat nervous, but mostly just making fun of him.

Dead? Dead! What do you mean she's dead? Oh, that's funny Tom. That's very funny. I can bloody hear her right in front of me, so how can she be dead?

In a sing-songy voice, he replied. You can hear Nearly Headless Nick now, can't you? Ginny was speechless, trying to think up something snappy to say.

Bu-but ghosts don't cry

Tom just laughed this time. This one does.

"I wish you wouldn't talk about me like that. Like I don't have feelings. Like I can't hear you." A silvery shadow of a girl floated through the door, making Ginny's mouth fall. The ghost was obviously a Hufflepuff before she died, as she was still wearing her crested robe. Her pencil-darkened pigtails fell to her shoulders and were tied with a pale yellow ribbon that was the only color on her. She was slightly pudgy with round cheeks made transparent with see-through tears.

Ginny, this is Moaning Myrtle. Myrtle sniffed and turned away, as if she was trying to ignore them. But Ginny could see she was shivering. She was scared.

"Go away, Tom Riddle. I didn't think you'd be back here in such a hurry. This is a girls' bathroom after all." Tom shifted uneasily when Myrtle directly acknowledged him. Something had happened between the two of them and obviously Tom didn't want her to know about it. Ginny just blocked out her train of thought and talked to Tom.

"Tom." He laughed like he was trying to keep in his anger, oddly asking why she was talking aloud for the entire world to hear. "Tom, I don't care how this ghost of a girl can hear you, but which sink do you want me to be at? I've done what you've told me to do and now I'm sort of wishing that I had never agreed to have anything to do with you. All this stuff is not good Tom! So do what you have to do and be done with it!" Tom raised her eyebrow in shock after this whole explosion from his loyal little Gryffindor and he spoke soothing words, calming her. Myrtle watched the girl calm herself down quizzically.

"Ginny girl," Myrtle called out, making Ginny meet her gaze. "He's using you, you know. He's using you to open the Chamber of Secrets." Ginny furrowed her forehead. What? "He'll use you, seduce you, love you, and leave you. He's done it before and he'll do it again… to you. Whatever you do, do not open that Chamber. You won't believe the power he will have over you. Already you're under his control and it'll only get worse. He'll make you do all sorts of things the likes of which I'll never know. Don't listen!" Ginny silenced her by slapping her hard across the face. Myrtle cried and dove into the toilet, splashing a layer of water over the damp floor. Ginny clutched her racing heart. She had slapped Myrtle and she felt her cold, moist skin. She had felt a ghost… but she couldn't… no one could.

Tom steered her over to the sinks and calmed her again. Just a little longer princess. Come on; don't give up now. Open your mind to me and I'll steer you. Tom pleaded with her. Ginny nodded and complied, too shocked to protest. She could feel his presence in her mind grow stronger until it filled her mind and overpowered it. She could almost see his toothy grin. Excellent. She thought she heard him say before the world went black. Ginny thought no more.


Ginny's eyes fluttered open. She was standing in a dim corridor with a bucket in her hand. This corridor looked oddly familiar, like she had seen it in a dream, or long ago. As she looked down to her clammy hands, she dropped the metal bucket. It rolled around the marble floor spreading something sticky and red over the floor. The same item of whatever it was that was on her hands. Somewhere in the multitude of floors above her, the clock tower chimed seven. Seven? Seven! The Halloween feast!

She raced down the hallway, running her hand along the granite wall, leaving a trail of red showing her progress. The feast was already half over and there was no way to sneak in unnoticed by the teachers unless you came at the exact moment the students stood to sing Hogwarts's song. If it was already half over, she was much too late for that. She took a detour to the girl's washroom and headed strait for the sinks. Holding her sickening smelling hands under the faucet, ice water showered onto the substance turning the water in the basin a deep red hue. A breath of relief escaped her lips before she noticed the basin was stained with the red. It wouldn't come off, nor would it scrub off her hands. Her hands were still stained with that damned substance. She nearly rubbed her hands raw, avoiding the red-encrusted ring around her marriage finger while the noise from the Great hall grew louder and louder. Ginny whimpered, still trying in vain to get off the red. The feast was over. Everyone would be coming out now and seeing her red hands.

Drying her hands, she stuffed them in her pockets and walked to the doors. She could just merge in with everyone else as they came out in a pack. The double doors to the Great Hall burst open and just as Ginny predicted, she was engulfed in the crowd. The crowd walked along the corridor where Ginny had found herself earlier yet no one noticed the trail on the wall. They did, however, notice the school's golden trio standing in front of a red stained wall. Ginny's eyes grew wide. There were letters written on the wall, letters written with the same substance that was in that bucket and covering her hands. Mrs. Norris hung from a torch holder. She too was covered in the red. It was strange though. When on something alive, it looked remarkably like blood.

In the silence, Ginny heard a small hiss and turned her head to see what it was. What she thought was the tail of a snake flipped as it disappeared around a corner. Fourth year's grunt brought her back to the trio. Harry was tracing the blood-written words high above Ginny's head with his hand. Murmuring to himself, he read the statement posted so valiantly on the wall. "The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir- beware." What did that mean? She'd heard that name before. Yes, Moaning Myrtle had said it. She said that Tom would use her to open this Chamber of Secrets. The name left a shiver on her spine like it was something she couldn't have- wasn't supposed to have. Something forbidden.

"Enemies of the Heir beware! You'll be next Mudbloods!" Ginny heard Draco call from somewhere if the front of the crowd. His cold eyes were alive, his usually bloodless face flushed, as he grinned at the sight of the hanging, immobile cat.

"What's going on here?" Filch had come into the corridor and saw the hold up. Draco smiled gleefully to see that he had done something to attract Filch to the Trio. Victoriously, he turned to his entourage, most likely to gloat over what he had just accomplished when he caught Ginny watching him. Quickly, she looked away.

During this short exchange between the two of them, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Filch, Dumbledore, and Snape had all somehow gotten involved in the matter. Lockhart said something Ginny couldn't catch and all of the teachers huddled by the wall whisked the Trio and Mrs. Norris away. Dumbledore calmly explained nothing was wrong and told the students to get on to bed. Hardly anyone listened, though. A few obedient students went on to their common rooms, but most read the words on the wall over and over with fearful eyes.

The Slytherins were the exception to all this fear. They were smiling and laughing about as most of the school had done before they found this here. The school, in their opinion, needed some cleansing. The Mudbloods were not deserving of going to such a fine school, as was Hogwarts. Oh no, they would just let this mysterious Heir get on with his work without anyone interfering. And there would be hell to pay if anyone got in His way.

Ginny was one of the few brave enough to approach the wall. She could feel eyes penetrating her as she neared the blood-covered wall. The background moved around her, but Ginny stayed still, like she was in a reverie. The words etched into her mind. They were so familiar, how she knew them, she didn't know. All of a sudden, Ginny had to lean against the wall to stay on her own two feet. A most rare vision came to her. She saw the wall the words were so boldly written bare. A bloody hand was changing that though. It traveled up and down the length of the wall, forming out the words that the entire school now knew by heart. Ginny tried her hardest to turn to be able to see the author of the words, but as she did, she saw the corridor completely empty. No one but her in sight. In her shock, a bucket she was holding for one reason or another slipped from her grasp, spilling its sticky sweet substance on her robe.

Draco shook her frail body, yelling out to her. "Weasly!" Ginny jolted up, frightened as she hurriedly shoved Draco's hand off of her, nearly knocking him over in her haste. He regained his footing and was about to playfully scold her when he noticed half the student body of Hogwarts watching them with interest. He pushed her away with mock disgust. "How dare you touch me! This was one of my best robes. Now I'll have to get a new one that's not contaminated with your filthy blood traitor's germs." Not one of his more original insults, and saying it made him seem like a second-grader worried about cooties, but Ginny could tell that he didn't want to hurt her with a stinging insult. All was silent as she sadly shook her head and walked away.


When she reached Gryffindor tower, she sat down against the wall, thinking hard. Who would have written that on the wall? Who would have opened this Chamber of Secrets? Who indeed. Standing up off the wall, she decided it was time to face the noisy common room. Surprisingly enough, there was no one in the common room, or any of the rooms. Odd. Plopping down on her own bed, Ginny pulled out the Diary and a fresh quill.


Tom?

What is it Ginny?

I think I'm going crazy. There are so many things I don't remember doing tonight that everyone did so I must have, and then there are things I did that I know were impossible for me to do.

Improbable, Gin. Nothing is impossible. What do you remember?

I don't know. It's all so fuzzy. It's like this entire day has been a dream.

Poor little Gin. You need some rest. Go to sleep, it's perfectly all right.

I have class Tom. Astronomy classes are always Wednesday at midnight no matter what holiday it might be.

It's not Wednesday, Gin dear. It's Saturday.

Saturday? But wasn't yesterda

Friday.

Where is everyone then Tom?

Oh, well, they are at… they're all outside Gin.

This late?

Late? Its barely 7:30! You really need some rest.

I can't rest. You wont believe the things they say happened.

Don't listen to them.

Tom, they say there wer

They're lying.

I don't know where I was!

With me. I was always here. You need to see the nurse, my little princess.

Nurse? Why?

You're so dizzy. You haven't slept in days.

Dizzy. Yes, that's true. Haven't slept…days…

Yes, you really must see the nurse. I insist.

What's this on my hand? Tom?


Tom didn't answer. Ginny felt as if the room was revolving everything but her and she hung her head. If she had been looking, she would have noticed the words written within the book. Blood. It said. Ginny lifted her hand to her nose to see for herself, as Tom wouldn't tell her. Immediately the room stopped twirling. The stench that Ginny would soon grow accustomed to smelling filled her nose. That disgusting stench made all the day's events grow again in Ginny's mind. Over and over the video played itself in her mind's VCR. Each time it got more and more clearer. The bathroom, the ghost, the corridor filled with that smell, the substance on her robes smelling the same, the writing on the wall reeking on this smell. It all clicked together. Blood? Tom had said a full five minutes ago that Ginny had never read. But now she understood. It was all blood.


Ginny awoke, still woozy and frightened in an unknown bed to her. She was in the Hospital Wing, empty beds surrounding her own. The bloody robes from earlier were cleaned and folded at the foot of her bed. Scratchy material clung to her as she moved around. She was wearing a white hospital gown, or robe, which is what it really was. The room was quiet with the eerie atmosphere of an infirmary. The beds beside hers were all neatly made, seeming ready and eager for children to grow sick and lay in them.

Madame Pomfry was a middle-age failure of a witch- practically a squib. All she was good at was medi-magic and at that there were none better. Her hair was a deep auburn always tied back in a simple bun to keep it out of her face. She was going gray, the only sign of her age visible. Most students, whether in first or seventh, saw the kind and welcoming lady up in the Hospital Wing as a mother. She not only dished out healing charms, Skele-Gro, and remedies, but also advice, sympathy, a listening ear, and hugs. Ginny saw her, not as a mother, but rather as the big sister she never had who was never too busy to give a shoulder to cry on.

"Oh good, you're awake." Madame Pomfry bustled into the room with her large tray of potions. "We didn't know what happened to you, dear. But we were surely scared. Students start collapsing right after this attack… it's enough to make anyone frightened. Well, you were the only one, but that made even Dumbledore most nervous." Madame Pomfry had a tendency to just run on and on about something, never stopping. "But I told him, we should hear what happened from your own two lips. So, what happened, Ginny?" Ginny fiddled with the strange ring on her hand.

What had happened? All she remembered were snatches of things she perceived as dreams; things that couldn't possibly be real. A damp room with sinks opening to reveal a large manhole. Blood-written letters looming out for all to see. Blood on her robes, the wall, her very hands. A dark silhouette of a man beckoning her to a large chamber- the chamber in her dreams. She had been frightened. Frightened it was all real.

"I was just scared. What if this heir hates me? I might be next." Ginny worried about none of these things. But she was too embarrassed to tell her the real reason she had fainted. She was too ashamed. Madame Pomfry wrapped her arms around her shoulders in what she thought was a comforting position. While like this, Ginny could see, over the woman's broad frame, a glass vase was on her bedside table, filled with several white long-stemmed roses. "Where did these come from?" She asked. Madame Pomfry dropped her arms, confused, before following Ginny's gaze to the roses. She gave a small knowing smile.

"Someone dropped them by earlier. When they heard you missed your classes, they were worried so they just dropped these by." She sighed, holding her heart. "Oh dear me! Me, an old lady, getting all worked up over a fancy of white roses. I wanted to display them so when you awoke, you would know someone noticed you were gone. I can dispose of them if you want." Standing and holding the roses, Madame Pomfry slyly asked, wondering what the reaction would. Ginny gazed at the stunning roses and shook her head almost viciously. Madame Pomfry laughed and put them down, fluffing them out to present each one equally. Ginny scooted over to the edge of her bed and reached out to touch the glorious flowers. Madame Pomfry slapped her hand away before smiling apologetically. "Lay down child. You need to regain your strength even if it takes until Monday." Ginny smiled, pushing the hair out of her eyes before realizing something. Madame Pomfry had said she missed classes. Tom had said it was Saturday. Why would Tom lie to her? Could she trust him?

She had to shake her head discreetly to get the thought out of her head. Of course she could trust Tom. He was her best friend. Why would he lie to her? It didn't make sense, but Ginny knew if she continued to question Tom, he would know and get mad. And you didn't want Tom to be mad. "Who sent them? Please tell me. I need to know!" She was acting like a small child on Christmas morning, rushing to see what they received. After a moment of silent consideration, Madame Pomfry agreed, handing a miniature card to Ginny that had come half buried beneath the roses.

'Hope you feel better, Harry.' Harry! Oh, that was killing Ginny. Harry gave Ginny Weasly flowers. Ginny Weasly had received flowers from the great and noble Harry bloody-boy-who-lived Potter! So he was open about it and not a secret admirer like the boys in books. Who cares! The boy who she had had a girly crush on since they first laid eyes on each other back on September first of last year now loved her back. This was all the proof that he did love her. She sighed, lost in this daydream, totally oblivious to all else. Four hundred and twenty six days since they first gazed upon each other. Finally he was showing her the love and respect he would always feel for her. No one else would love him or love her. No one better touch him. They were each other's now, forever and for always. They would just be wrapped in each other's embraces forever.

A strange feeling filled her gut. It wasn't reality, although it should have been. No, the feeling was…very difficult to describe. It was bizarre. All this thought on future weddings with this boy of her dreams and love and maybe even giving him her innocence had sparked a new idea in her head. The fire scorched sky-high, burning all thoughts of loving Harry to a withering handful of ashes. This fire did bring the reality kick that Ginny needed to bring her down from cloud nine, but it was a painful way to come to Earth. The mind has many doors. And for some reason, this feeling she felt right now was locking up all her girlhood dreams.

Feelings are one of the hardest things to talk about. Even with someone you've never lied to in your life, you're not completely open with your feelings. Some things need to be tied down by a stake in the yard, while others should frolic about, letting everyone see their hair blowing in the wind. Most of the time, humans tend to confuse which one should be tied down and which one is to be let free. This feeling should have been tied down somewhere where she would never hear its blasphemous ideas again. But of course she had to let it out or it would destroy the very essence of what was Ginny, and what was this strange thing walking bout her mind, opening random doors not caring what came out of them. For Ginny would or even could never feel this way if something not planted this seed of doubt in the back of her mind. She was feeling something different for Harry right now. This was a feeling of…oh, what can you describe this feeling with? Loathing. It was like someone despised Harry because she loved him so.

"How long was I unconscious?" Ginny asked, startling Madame Pomfry. She had thought Ginny would be content daydreaming for hours with the new hope the roses brought to her. It had been a full 13 minutes in which Ginny had gazed longingly at the roses in her hand with a bemused expression on her face.

"For nearly two day, Poppet. You've been unconscious for nearly two day. Luckily for you, love, Wednesday was a holiday, meaning shortened classes for the rest of the week. We were starting to worry you might never come back. This wasn't an ordinary "jump-on-a-chair-and-faint-when-you-see-a-mouse" faint. Something serious happened to you. It must have. If it's more than a day, we here at Hogwarts classify that as a coma. I –er- heard from Tirza, your roommate, oh, well you know that, that you had a nightmare on Halloween morning. That was the morning before you passed out, so I believe that they are connected. What did you see?" Ginny's lip began to quiver. She grabbed hold of her blankets, pretending to cough so Madame Pomfry wouldn't see how scared she really was.

Taking deep breaths and gulping her fear away, Ginny laid out her blankets exactly as they had been on top of her. She had bought enough time to think up what to do. Make a debate. Think up something she won't be expecting from you, Ginny girl. "Obviously this dream Tirza is spreading about and everyone is now talking about, cannot possibly be connected. It happened more than 15 hours before the incident of- er- passing out. But do you still want to hear what I saw in my dream, even though it has no possible connection to this discussion." Madame Pomfry raised an eyebrow at the stuttering girl who was pretending to be an erudite lawyer. Ginny noticed this and tensed. She had to think up a good lie. What was a good lie? There's no time for a good lie right now Ginny Weasly! Just spurt something out! Ginny nodded to herself and turned back to Madame Pomfry. "I saw my brothers. Yeah, that's right. They all shunned me. They were ashamed. And my parents threw me out of the house, claiming I wasn't really their daughter anymore." All because they saw I had tainted their perfect bloodline with filth. They couldn't even look at me without disgust in their eyes "That's the great dream everyone has been so anxious about. Isn't it magical?" Madame Pomfry opened her mouth, then thought against it and frowned. She had been expecting something completely different. "Now, I need to –er- rest. Yes, that's right, you're always telling me to rest, so I need to rest now. Please leave so I can be alone." Reluctantly, Madame Pomfry followed the orders from this once sweet and pure little girl, now an uptight prude, who ordered her to leave. There was this itching urge to delve deeper into Ginny's dream, perhaps some child psychology sessions she saw those folks in Muggle-movies do. But patients did need rest; Madame Pomfry would be the first to petition for that.


Tom, I need to talk to you.

Ginny? Ah, you're awake now darling. But what's the matter, princess? Tell old Tom everything.

Old? You're not ol- never mind. I need to ask you a question you have to swear to answer truthfully.

You know princess that I can't swear to tell the truth unless I know the question.

So I can never trust you! Why can't you just tell me the truth? For once!

You sound angry, Gin. Calm down. Are you saying that I've never told the truth? I'm insulted.

Tom, please. Focus. I don't care if you lie to me on this, even though I don't know why you would, but where was I on Halloween?

Surely you remember that.

Don't laugh at me Tom Marvelo Riddle!

That was a little below the belt Virginia Anne Elizabeth Weasly. What do you remember about that night?

Wow. Major déjà vu on this conversation, Tom... I think I've told you before that all I remember is being in a hall and seeing those horrible words. Those evil words… And having that vision.

Don't think about that. You were…asleep on Halloween. Slept through the whole feast.

Well, that explains some lingering questions. But why did I wake up in a hallway?

Simple. You were sleepwalking.

Tom, I don't sleepwalk. And how would you know, anyway?

Gin, Gin, Gin… how would you know?

I guess I wouldn't.

That's right.

Why do you like Draco so much?

Oh, well I see him as a younger, more platinum blonde version of myself. Very untrustworthy though.

Well, so are you. But, I think I'm starting to feel for him.

You mean feel like you feel for Harry. Now you feel that way for Draco. I never knew someone who's so innocent could be such a slut.

Tom! Why did you say that? Do you really feel that way?

No.

I was just blowing off steam.

Oh. Well, are you okay with this?

Of course not! Break up with him!

What? Tom, I'm not gonna break up with my first real boyfriend.

He wasn't a real boyfriend. You were using him! Break up with him, Goddamn it!

I don't care. I don't want to use him anymore.

Then you will break up with him.

No!

Virginia… I am ordering you to break up this instant!


Ginny couldn't shake off the way Tom had written her name with such anger; the words were scribbled, as if his hands had shaken while he wrote to her. It made the sight of him hovering over her, breathing her name come back full force, knocking a tear or two out of her eyes. Closing the diary, Ginny wiped a tear off her face and hid the diary carefully underneath her pillow. Tom was making her do this. She couldn't believe Tom was making her do this. She couldn't believe she was listening to what Tom told her to do. They would never meet. He could never enforce his threat. What's the worst he can do? Ginny thought. He could stop responding to your writing. He could forget you even existed, just like everyone else. That was the ultimate threat.


Draco burst into the Hospital Wing, his hands full of fresh daisies. "Gin, my angel, my jewel, my Gingerbread! Someone told me you were sick. Well… they didn't actually tell me… I was kind of eavesdropping on Potter and heard. But the important thing is that I heard, right? I came running up here. You're the only one that understands me. I've missed you." Ginny gently took the flowers and smelt them. They smelled a little damp, but he had just come from the dungeons. "To tell you the truth," Draco held Ginny's hand away from the flowers as he spoke. He seemed to realize they smelled days old. For flowers, that's very aged. "I didn't get them for you. Parkinson, that pug, sent them to my rooms on Halloween to get me to like her. Ha! Like anything would work with that cause. But they were pretty, and you were sick so I thought to myself, 'You know, something good can come of this.' Actually not. That's a really Gryff thing to say, no offense meant. I just said, maybe she'll like 'em and brought them by." After all those random words, Ginny just put down the daisies and took Draco's hand. He smiled, pulling up a chair to her bed, still holding tight to her hand.

"Draco, my sweet, thoughtful little dragon. Now I want you to listen. I need some…space from you." Draco's face had been beaming at the start of her speech, but now he yanked away his hand and stood up. "Listen Draco, please. I have just so many brothers. They're everywhere. One in your year, one in sixth, two in fourth and I even have a prefect in sixth. I can't go anywhere without them tailgating me! I'm sick and tired of hiding from them. I can't hide from them anymore! I may never see you, but believe me; I know you're always there. You don't have time to live a double life here, Malfoy. You can choose to live the life your Father pre-ordained for you, or you can choose your own destiny. So, what's it going to be? Taunting Harry, or being with me. It sounds weird saying that out loud, but those are your choices. Please choose."

He walked to her other side and picked up the roses from their proud position atop her bedside table. Trying to grab at them, Ginny just missed as Draco kept stepping farther out of her reach. "So you want me to choose, do you?" At the furious nod, Draco smirked and went on. "Well what makes you sure I'd pick you? Do you know what my Father would do if he ever found out about this with him trying so hard to get you and…" Ginny cocked her head sideways, wanting him to go on, but he seemed to realize he had said too much. "I mean, er… With me being a Malfoy and you a pathetic Weasel." He caressed the vase close to his heart, trying to hold on to something real. "You aren't important to me, weasel-bee. I- I was just having some fun. And these flowers…they wouldn't be from your precious Potter, now would they?" he had found the card. " 'Hope you feel better, Harry.' Well isn't that sweet. Is the saint of all mudbloods finally in love? Or don't you just wish it?" His voice sent chills running up her spine and tears down her face. She clamped her hands over her ears so she wouldn't hear him anymore.

Then Draco angrily hurled the vase onto the wall. Shards of glass flew so far they nearly gorged into Ginny's eyes. She shrieked, covering her eyes with her hands, causing Draco to mock her, jumping onto the bed to yell right in her face. "You're using him, Virginia! You little whore! You wrench! Goddamn it Ginny, you were using me!" Then he turned on his heel and left. Madame Pomfry hustled as fast as she could in to the room, having heard the sickening crash of glass on marble, entering to find Ginny huddled over her roses on the floor crying.

"Oh sweetheart, what's the matter?" Ginny just kept crying and hugging her roses close to her. "Sweetheart, let's get back in bed and I'll fetch you a nice calming potion. Okay?" Hurrying to her private stores of potions, she didn't see Harry and Ron stride in. They walked over to Ginny's empty bed, talking and apparently not noticing she wasn't in there anymore. Then Harry struck out his arm, stopping Ron and making him irritated that Harry would knock the wind out of him. They both stared at the vacant bed.

"Where is she?" Harry asked. Ginny had obviously slept in the bed and her uniform was still folded on the bed, so where was she? " Maybe she woke up. Maybe she's back at the dormitory already. Or maybe she's dead. But I'm pretty sure that wasn't the case when she was brought up here. She's awake then!" Ginny smiled despite herself. Harry was being an imbecile of course, but he sounded like he was worried about her. Ron and Harry turned to check with Madame Pomfry when they came face to face with Ginny.

"Ginny!" Ron cried, hoisting up his little sister by the arms. "What are you doing on the floor? Trying to give your big bro a heart attack, are you?" He helped Harry carry her to her bed and they both tucked her in. Ron crossed to her other side, so as not to have Harry in the way and placed a brotherly kiss on her forehead. "Well, I guess you're awake." Oh look, a NEWT level alchemist. "All of us have been so worried."

Harry smiled shyly at her when he noticed she held the roses in her arms. "Oh yeah. So I guess you like them. The twins did spend a lot of money on those roses. Got 'em for you at Hogsmeade on Halloween to apologize for their earlier behavior-." Harry kept talking but Ginny tuned him out. Of course the roses weren't from him. Why would the great Harry Potter, the bloody boy-who-lived, give her, a plain, dull, first year, sister of his best friend, roses? He would never love her.

Ginny hurriedly stuffed her hand under her pillow. She needed to talk to the one person who cared about her. As soon as she touched the cold leather surface of the book, Harry and Ron were trivial. But they were still obstacles in her path meaning they had to go.

"Ron, Harry, I think I'm feeling better now. You can go." What worked with Madame Pomfry obviously didn't work here. They looked at her and laughed. She had had a schoolgirl crush on Harry since they had boarded the train last year. To have him so close, acting like he wanted to be with her, it should be a dream come true. Ginny glanced at her brother who was stifling a laugh. Did he think that she was being funny? Her eyes narrowed, and she pointed to the door.

Shrugging his shoulders, Harry motioned for the surprised Ron to follow. But Ron just stared and began prattling about how 'all he wanted to do was protect her' when Harry was able to steer him out. Madame Pomfry had been stalling around her door, not wanting to interrupt a conversation, but now she came out and bounded to the girl's side, a potion clasped in her hand. Ginny began to protest but was shushed by Madame Pomfry force-feeding her the vile stuff. Remarkably, it worked, letting Ginny breathe a sigh of relief. The potion itself tasted like dewy grass but it did calm her down. Rapidly brushing all the glass from the floor and repairing it, Madame Pomfry made sure the potion was working before she went to do some paperwork. That's when Harry decided to return.

Harry was alone, having left Ron at the stairway, and coming for his spare sheet of parchment he had carelessly left lying on the bedside table. Ginny followed him with her eyes until he reached her and met her gaze. Calmly, he picked up the roses from Ginny's lap and set them in the new vase. Ginny nodded her acknowledgement of him, still slightly embarrassed about what Ron probably thought about her and him. "Ginny…I'm sorry for…whatever I did." He pecked her hand like she was a lady and he a gentleman, and held up the roses, vase and all. They really were beautiful, each having snow white petals with the slightest hint of pink at the tips. They weren't just beautiful. They were gorgeous.

Ginny reached out and traced the petals with her finger. Harry smiled that dazzling boy-who-lived smile and lifted the flowers to smell them. With a gasp, he dropped them, breaking the vase for the second time. "What is it? What's the matter Harry?"

He just looked down at the roses by his feet like he wanted to be far, far away from them. Ginny pushed up and crawled along her bed to look upon her precious roses. She shrieked and swiped them up, hiding them behind her back. She didn't really know whether it was to hide it from him… or herself. But it was too late. They both had seen what had happened to the roses although neither knew why it was. The tips of the roses were stained with ink.