A dark hooded figure stood with his back to the room, speaking to a juvenile boy who was kneeling on the ground to him. "You must get her back. You must befriend her."
"Yes Milord." The servant cowered beneath his Master's steel gaze. Shakily crawling to kiss the hem of the Master's robe, the boy, who was barely old enough to be called a teenager, was surprised to feel a kick lash out, aimed for his face.
"Get off!" The boy servant bowed his head, ashamed, and licked the blood away from the side of his mouth before it could drip and stain the marble floor. The Master turned again to look out the window at the swarming followers all loyal to this Master with a hint of a smile long ago erased, allowing the boy to regain some pride. "I don't ask much of you, young one. But this is one of the most imperative missions in all my legions! Why must you ruin it?" This time the boy made it to the Master's hem and kissed it before receding to his previous spot groveling on the floor.
"I beg your forgiveness, Milord. I did not know it was so vital. I shall try my best to win back her affections, yet I fear they might have shattered with that vase." The boy's remorseful pitch disgusted the older man. How much he would love to smear the floor with this muck that had the nerve to stand at the peak of all the wizards because of his lineage whereas the man he was imploring for clemency had to work all this way from the very bottom.
The Master swiveled around, raising his wand elevated high in the air, pointing at the boy forebodingly, yet still so majestically polished and poised. "That's not good enough boy!" The boy was rocking back and forth on his knees, pleading mercy wordlessly.
"Please, I'll try my hardest and more!" The young man, who had spent the majority of his existence being trained not to show any emotion, let alarm seep into his voice. A look of loathing from the Master silenced him.
"Imperio!"
Ginny staggered into the Great Hall with her eyes clamped tightly shut. Draco wouldn't have let the "lie" going around that he had been discarded like a piece of used trash going around. She expected murmuring, pointing, sniggering, when she walked into the Hall or even worse, the silence. The stillness and placidness of what was generally chaotic could drive you to cry right out in front of everyone and everything. And you know everyone is watching you. But all she heard was a regular's day morning going on in all the tables. No one looked at her. No one even noticed her there. Actually, there was one pair of eyes fixed onto her. A pair of sterling eyes belonged to the very boy who Ginny had the day before dismissed. Yet Mr. Malfoy burned the air with his gaze as Ginny stood awkwardly. He was not a happy man. Draco's eyes watched her.
They hadn't really been dating, but it still surprised Ginny that Draco wasn't off bad-mouthing her in every corner in the school. But she assumed that people would have to know they had been somewhat seeing each other for him to lie about dumping her and her being easy and all that jazz. Tom had told her after the break up that she would need to get Draco to trust her again. He had even given her tips on how to bring up the subject over to relationships, particularly their own, and how to beg his forgiveness. If he wanted that, she should never had broken up in the first place. If Tom had listened to her saying breaking up was a bad idea, he still would trust her. But no, no one listens to the youngest Weasley. Tom would only tell her that Draco was crucial in a later part of the plan. He had never told her exactly what the plan was though.
"Hey Weasel!" A Slytherin first year stood calmly and confidently on a bench next to Draco. Ginny turned to face her, taking in the sight of all the Great Hall looking at the two of them. She was quite a pretty girl, with tawny colored curls that fell a little past her shoulders. Her eyes were a smoldering coffee color that penetrated through the toughest of façades. Ginny had seen her before in the joint potions class that Gryffindor throughout all the years had with their corresponding Slytherins. "Weasel! I'm talking to you monkey-butt." Ginny was startled. Even Ron, who God above knows, is a little slow, could have thought up a snappier insult that that. That was just a blow to the reputation of Slytherin house! But it did tell her one thing; Draco hadn't kept it completely a secret.
Ginny embraced her books to her chest and walked over to the Ravenclaw table where one of her "friends" sat. This schoolgirl was her partner in Charms for a series of projects that had to be done in succession. So far, all that the girl had done was to call over the lonely child so she could copy down their essay that they both had done. The girl's name was Leslie. She was almost a duplicate of the first year Slytherin, making it extremely difficult for Ginny to be glaring at her while Leslie explained. Of course Leslie was nice to Ginny but didn't really care or want to get any closer. No one did.
"Thanks…Ginny. I was just about to give up on you and do the project myself. But Professor Flitwick would not like it if I said you were holding out on our group work. So thank you." She seized the paper in Ginny's hands and hastily copied it down while the Slytherin first year made faces and rude gestures at them. Seeing her, Leslie halted, alternating between looking at the Slytherins who had their heads banging against the table and the first year who was acting so babyish and childlike and so not Slytherin that was making them do it. "Oh, don't pay attention to her. She's always making some sort of empty threat. She'll never lay a hand on you, though. I only know this because she's my sister. Embarrassing, right? My twin: my other half basically. And yet, we're so different." Stopping, she saw Ginny look at both of them bemused. "We're not identical, if that's what you believe! We're just twins." She seemed too mortified to even reveal that this girl and her were closer than she had already let slip out. "She's my own flesh and blood, and still she doesn't even talk to me anymore since I didn't make it into Slytherin. Her mother was a bloody Muggle-born, yet still she feels the need to dump all her "Mudblood" friends because they're lower than her. She just can't grasp the fact that by doing so, she lost all the respect I had for her. I wish Momma were here to see how her spawn behaves. But I understand you can't pick your family." That wasn't a closing statement. Ginny could tell that a response was anticipated, if not expected.
"No, I guess you can't." And with that, the two first-years went their own ways as if they had never met. To Ginny, this was normal behavior, but that depended on your definition of normal. She had always been used to those people who pretended she didn't exist. Her brothers were told that she was too delicate to play, although she did whenever she could. That's why she spent so much time talking to Tom, confiding in Tom. Hell, even loving Tom. He never ignored her existence. He listened. He cared. He most certainly did occasionally tell her what she must do to remain a close contact of his, but to Ginny, none of that mattered. He was the prince of darkness…and he wanted her as his princess. He was the god of all evil…and he wanted her as his conquest. Tom was genius, charming, eloquent, valiant, and he loved her, and all Ginny wanted was to be with him…it sort of scared her. He controlled so much of her that if he asked her to join him in the shadowy realm of the world between life and death, she would obey most willingly.
Ginny drew in a deep breath before heading again past the Slytherins to get to the Gryffindor table. As she did this, Leslie's twin called her over. A cloud of doubt and suspicion bubbled into Ginny's mind, but she pushed it aside and walked over to Leslie's twin, hoping that this was going to be an apology. Leslie's twin followed her path over with a wide smirk on her face. That alone should have been a telltale sign that this wasn't going to be good. She tilted down onto Ginny's ear and covered her mouth so Ginny alone could hear her. "Let me get something clear to you, Weasel-bee. I know all about your little rendezvous that you had with Draco. He is mine now, little Weasel. So you leave him alone or I swear by the gods above, I will kill you." Then she let her hands fall to her side and seated herself next to Draco.
You can never give up something without wanting it back. Eventually the longing will lesson, but it will still be there, gnawing at you from the back of your mind every time you have time where nothing is running through your head. Why do humans always want what they can't have? It's a basic human need, a thirst for what you don't have. Double points to you if you can never have it. That only makes you want it more. Why do humans do this to themselves? Asking all these questions to herself, Ginny shut her eyes to leave Draco and Leslie's twin and sadly began to walk away.
It seemed as if Draco had started to stand up, causing Ginny to quickly turn to see if it was real. But it wasn't. If he had tried to stand to go after her, he was sitting now as normally as he ever was, and neither Leslie's twin's face nor his revealed anything. The twin sneered at Ginny's retreating back, even more annoyed because she had to pull down Draco again. There was no way that she was going to let some poor, country girl take away what she had worked so hard to obtain.
To make sure there was no threat, Leslie's twin halted all functions screaming at her to screech what her mind kept playing over and over. Ginny was huddled over her books at the Gryffindor tables with her brothers surrounding her, chatting over her and passing things around. That's when the insult was hurled into the Great Hall. "Well, we all knew that Weasley women were easy, Draco. I mean, how else do you explain seven kids?" The words froze Ginny mid-turn of a page, and made the Weasley boys sit dead still. Ginny was shaking. Was this how everyone saw her now that her marks were so apparent? Even as she read, the marks from Tom's grasp on her arm were ever so apparent. Ron growled, making the Slytherin pale slightly. One thing that Leslie's slightly thick twin might have taken into consideration, if she only knew, that Draco didn't warn her about, and that he was smirking because he so "misfortunately" forgot to mention, was that the Weasleys were Momma's boys. And you never want to be caught insulting the Momma of a Momma's boy. Ron bounded up from his seat in rage, the twins following suit. Surprisingly so did Percy which made the Gryffindors draw a collective breath.
Now the Weasleys are a tough family to describe. On the outside you have a happy-go-lucky, typical family with seven kids. Mrs. Weasley was a rather heavyset realist woman who lives through her boys, making them into her perfect models of prim and proper Englishmen. Mr. Weasley was a balding, broke, yet happy, Muggle-lover who would likely in the near future snap his wand in half and parade around London as a Muggle. Needless to say Mr. And Mrs. Weasley did have their fair share of arguments. Their eldest child, Bill, was a previous head-boy who had done all he could to please his mother. That is, all except cut off the shoulder-length ponytail he kept, as many believe, as his only rebellion to his dear mother.
The twins, as everyone know, are a couple of troublemakers, but not everyone knows who Fred and George are. George was born a full four minutes before his twin, and it greatly annoyed him how whenever they were mentioned, it was always Fred and George, or the Twins. No one ever called him George. Just FredandGeorge. It was like it was one word. George loved to be identical to his twin and loved mischief… but sometimes, it was too much. However, if he were to become a "goody-two shoes" not only would people make fun of him, his own brother would act indifferent to him. Fred on the other hand was trouble down to his very last identical little chromosome. He loved his mother dearly, yet loved to watch her face as she saw yet another one of his ingenious pranks. One of the Weasleys only fears was to see their mother turn purple though. To watch her face light up like a red Christmas bulb was to be entertained for hours. To see her face grow that purplish color of a bruised eggplant was to cower under your sheets to shake off her death glare.
Percy Weasley was Mrs. Weasley's greatest pride and joy and this time of her life. Prefect, top in all his classes, and a good, solid future ahead of him…what kind of mother wouldn't be proud? He was even a shoo-in for Head Boy next year, but that was just a rumor. There isn't much to be said about dear old perfect, prefect Percy, as the twins so boldly called him. He is a strong, yet silent type whom mainly keeps to himself besides almost religiously posting his mother of the happenings at Hogwarts. Fred had George, Percy had Bill, and you would assume Ron had Charlie. But the Weasley boys are a bit harder to describe then one might think.
Ronald Weasley was everybody's favorite person. The least desired of the brothers, but he was the world's greatest sidekick. And he detested it. Soon he would be famous, not as Harry's friend, but as the ever admired Ron. All he cared about nowadays was to stay at the top. There was no way he would be chucked back into that nothingness now. No way at all.
Last and most importantly of all the Weasley boys, we have the valiant and strapping Charlie Weasley. Charlie was Ginny's only link to the almost twin-like love almost all her siblings had with someone in their family. Full of a need to protect this callow redheaded sister of his, Charlie always made everyone perfectly aware of their shared love. He was the one to read her bedtime stories until she was asleep, and check her closet and under her bed for the "bogeyman". With kisses and random cuddling, they used to express their feelings. Now they rarely saw each other, yet connected through letters and presents on birthdays. When Charlie first left for Hogwarts, Ginny was barely old enough to understand that her brother wouldn't be coming back that night or the following night. Yet she was still old enough to have tears streaming down her face as her chubby legs desperately tried to keep up with her brother's solemn face in the window of the departing train. Somewhere deep in her heart, she knew once he was gone, she would never be treated the same and she hated him for abandoning her like that. But she knew this was important to him so eventually, she stopped running and watched as the train as it disappeared around a corner.
Back to the current problem of the twin currently insulting Weasley women, all the boys surrounded that unfortunate twin. It may seem hard but it's quite easy to ambush someone when you have enough kids in your family to join a baseball league. A fearful look appeared on the girl's face only to be replaced by fury at the boy beside her a second later. Slytherins don't lose their cool. Malfoys don't lose their cool. That's the lesson Draco's father tried time and time again to force into his son. And that's the lesson Draco in turn pushed upon the Slytherins just so he wouldn't be alone. Draco was always alone. Ginny cringed at the brief flash of sorrow on his face before the usual cocky bastard smirk returned.
"What's your name, girl?" Percy asked suspiciously from right behind her. Draco had somehow inconspicuously snuck down the row and was now seated out of range of any spells that might be fired from a wand. Ginny hadn't even noticed him, and that scared her. If he could move so easily without even being detected by someone who was just watching him, who was to say he couldn't use that for Vol… You-know-who? The girl was oblivious that Draco had moved and smiled just as cockily as he would be if they surrounded him. She was obviously unaware that Malfoy would not be protecting her with force this time. Evilly smirking still at the Ravenclaw table, she gave her answer.
"Me name am Leslie Turnbom." Leslie at the Ravenclaw table stalked over enraged. They did essentially look alike. Maybe there was more to their resemblance than met the eye. Maybe it was what was on the inside that made Leslie quiver with thought they were once the same person and she could still have the evil that was her sister in her. Or she might not exist and might be the one screaming without a sound trying to get out.
"Don't pay attention to her. Please don't deem her as trustworthy, she's lying her black little heart out." Percy noticed her and flinched. Leslie stood bravely amid her sister's glare. So maybe the twins were precisely and in all aspects alike. From the smoldering eyes to the cramped size 5-½ shoes on size 6 feet there was nothing singular. That "little black heart" as Leslie's profusely exclaimed, was the thing that made them not the same. Only a heart as black as midnight made the two any different. Yet if it weren't there, nothing would be the same. "I'm Leslie Turnbom. This is my twin sister Lesley." Leslie pointed to her sister who was sulking at being forced to confess her true name. Stupid sisters.
Percy was just a little bit confused with Leslie and Lesley and this twin and that as obviously were the rest of Ginny's brothers. God, they're slow. "But…" Began Fred, nudging his twin to back him up. "But it's the same name." To this point, George viciously nodded his head. Leslie actually avoided their eyes as she tried to control her anger. She was fuming because the twins thought that these twins had the same name.
Twins are always the same, yet different. They will line up to convince someone of that. But no one seems to understand that although something is exactly the same in every aspect on the outside, it's only a façade used to cover up the fact part of their soul was missing. With twins, everyone either expects perfect matches, or clones, of one person, or they expect a yin and a yang. In this case, neither was true. They're just like two sisters, as different as two sisters would be, with a cruel satisfaction of one to separate them. With all of the twin stories out there, are any one of them true? Is there a mystical planet that's just for twins? And if there is, what if the twins don't want to go together. What if they're so different, they would rather jump down Niagara Falls in a bikini than spend years upon years in a special place where twins are only acknowledged because of their twinness. Can't twins be a different person than who everyone thinks they should be?
"No." Leslie icily whispered. "That Is Lez-lie. I am Less-lie. There's a difference, so if you think I am going to be called my brainless sister's name, you are dead wrong!" Lez-lie seemed pleased at having gotten her sister all riled up and smirked around the table. Maybe it was like a Slytherin sport. Draco was oddly enough back in his original seat and was peculiarly watching the Weasley's faces when Leslie had finished. No one else seemed to have noticed he had gone or he came back, so Ginny began to wonder if maybe Draco Malfoy was a figment of her overactive imagination. No. Figments can't hurt you.
He was starring up at Ginny's confused face, obviously trying to get her attention, but her gaze was transfixed on the heads of several thick, gray bruises that were peeking from beneath Malfoy's robe sleeve that nearly matched her own. Trailing her eye line, he quickly covered the showing skin with his robe, his eyes downcast. No matter how many times she snuck a peek at the- was he frightened? – Malfoy, he would not return her ever so subtle gawk. His hand even when it was all covered, you could still see the inflamed, red, monstrosity that something had made his arm become.
"I'm dating Draco." Lesley burst out with her news suddenly, for she saw the exchange between her new boyfriend and this Weasley. And she was actually scared. Scared of a Weasley! That was absolutely barmy! Her Mother would have been so livid if she could see her fright right then. She had always abhorred Mudbloods and those who favored them. That's why she was faithful to the Dark Lord. He was the only one with any sense around this God-forsaken kingdom. She had died being devoted to him, if you can even call the Dark Lord a him like he was an actual person, however much their father tried to hide it with lies of being Muggles. And if dieing in service to the Dark Lord was fine enough for her mother, by God as her witness, that's how she would perish. Ginny's eyes instantly were drawn to Lesley's. Was this girl telling the truth? Cautiously, if not smirking, Fred and George turned to each other and looked at the friction between their sister and this Slytherin. Time to smash the ice. They slapped their hands together and begun to sing.
"It's a small, small world full of smiles and tears. It's a small, small world full of hopes and fears…" Draco rested his hand on the table near Ginny for her to take and warm with her fire as he used to, way back when her smile could illuminate his world. A wave of guilt washed over Ginny as that hand reached out to grab her own. Why, oh why, did he still want her? She wouldn't even fancy herself if she were Draco Malfoy. Not after the way he had been treated by her. It wasn't just him being furious at her daring to break it off with the Slytherin sex god who could bag any lady he wanted to like that. She really was using him, and that fact was torturing Ginny from the inside out. Tom was doing this to her. Why? He already had control over her mind and body. If he told her to undress and dance the hula in front of Salazar Slytherin and himself, she would comply. If he told her to kill Harry as he slept, dreaming of being the hero evermore, she would comply. And that's what really terrified her.
Draco half-shut his eyes, arguing in his mind viciously about something before snatching Ginny's hand in his own and dragging her out the door.
The Great Hall was so silent, you could hear a pin drop all the way from Hagrid's hut. All eyes were trained on the mahogany door swinging open and closed before it just stopped shut. A few Gryffindors laughed unnervingly at Ron's face, which was currently swapping between looks of unadulterated loathing and utter frustration. Not that Ron was spoiled, he just…hated for people to do things he detested. Including Draco Malfoy. A roar erupted at the base of his throat, traveling at high speeds up through his mouth to deliver a most stunning sound to ever deafen all of the students and inhabitants of Hogwarts School. Kneading their ears, some students angrily gestured toward the furious Weasley but froze mid-glance at his face.
Ronald Weasley, although possessing the infamous Weasley temper did not lose his cool for nothing. Draco Malfoy, however, always had the ability to put him that one-degree above his boiling temperature. This day was no exception. Taking care to check to see if anyone was rebelling alongside him, Ron stalked out the great Hall door in the direction Ginny and Draco had previously exited with the rest of the Weasleys, save Percy who jumped in front to try to calm them all down but just ended up following, trailing behind. Lesley jumped down, shoved her twin into the bench and ran after them as well. In five minutes, the crowd went from poorly behaved troublemakers, to stunned leftovers, which watched their House's greatest leaders all burst out of the room one right after the other.
You see, they all had reasons for following Draco and Ginny instead of trust that annoying bugger that is the nagging voice in your head telling you to think about what you're doing. Needless to say, all their reasons were different, but they all did share one common theme. Lesley didn't want to be rammed down the social ladder that was of great importance to all Slytherin's residents, by the slaughter of her current beau, Draco. If that happened, Lesley would once again fade from everyone's mind view and back into the oblivion from whence she came.
The Weasley boys, on the other hand, did not want to be pushed down the social ladder of the Wizarding world any more than they already were due to their current financial and Mr. Weasley's supposed mental status by allowing one of their kin and blood mixing with a Malfoy. The two social ladders of The Wizarding world were some of the most important things to have your name on. For people like the Malfoys, Anyone who wasn't a sadistic pureblood didn't deserve to be on the list. And vice versa with the "good" social ladder. If Ginny mixed with Draco, Draco Malfoy would climb up to where the Weasleys were on the list and plunge them all to the very bottom before he and Ginny left the list together at last. And vice versa with the pureblood list. That doesn't even cover the fact that their innocent baby sister was cohering with a bloody Malfoy! They had to "protect her," of course!
By now, Ginny and Draco were hidden behind rows and rows of dusty, moldy volumes of literature deep in the center of the library. He kept making sudden turns, Ginny racing behind to keep up and to stop her arm from being cut off by a sudden turn right into a book shelf. As they delved deeper into the shadows, a fear caught Ginny's throat in her chest and her breathing became haggard ad scarce. What if her dream really was a premonition? But it was Draco and not Tom who did all those things to her. Stop it Ginny! You know he would never do that! Tighter and tighter, he clutched her hand until her fingertips were turning blue but then finally, they stopped. "Draco- what is this all about-," Draco shushed her and got down on his knew, pulling her kneeling down right next to him.
"Ginny, I'm sorry." Now she knew why he needed to be this far into the library. No one could overhear them there. What was this? A Malfoy- a bloody pompous git- Malfoy was apologizing? That was too bizarre. "I made a mess of things. But you and I fit so well together. I am the only one who really knows you, Ginny. I'm sorry for reacting like that. But you and that bloody Potter! I can't stand it. Forgive me p-," Even in apologizing, he seemed to have to try to get the word out. Being a Malfoy sure did take its toll on you. "Please, Ginny. Forgive me." Ginny stalled from answering by tucking a loose platinum tuft of hair behind his ear.
A whistling in the next row interrupted them. Peeking through a space in the shelves where the old textbooks should be stored, they could see a rather contented Hermione most likely doing some extra work for some class instead of going to the match. But you could see she was prepared to make an appearance at the match, most likely for the benefit of Ron, by her Gryffindor scarf and binoculars. Seeing her obviously triggered something in Draco's mind, making him cover his mouth and gather his things to leave hurriedly. He urgently whispered to Ginny as he stood up, "If you love me or you forgive me, or maybe even both if I'm lucky, meet me in the Slytherin stands at the Quidditch pitch tonight at midnight." And so he left, slipping out the side entrance door when Hermione had her nose buried in a book.
Draco's POV: I found myself kneeling before her. She looked just as she did the first time I met her. All full of passion, and vigor, and… a little bit of terror. Well, she was defending Potter that day. How courageous of her to speak out against the Slytherin Prince! Especially when it's a recognized enemy of said such prince. I do love that nickname. I can really see myself as the prince. But really that wasn't what drew me to her. Her nerve, I mean. Lately, deep within of her, there's been something that is really… Slytherin.
Her eyes seem terrifed at the very thought of what I found myself telling her. So, she's petrified of me now? Ha. Draco, you just made a joke. That's not a usual occurrence for you. Well done. But now I was begging her clemency on my knees. Why? I don't want to trick her. I don't want to hurt her again. And I just Yes you do. You know you want to hurt her. She embarrassed you in front of God and who knows whom else. Hurt her. Go ahead. Go.
Was that I thinking just now? I don't think so… But that voice is right. I do want to hurt her. She hurt me and that bitch won't get away with it. I'll whisper little sweet nothings into her ear about love and forgiveness and meeting me later on. She'll fall for it. I know all about her type. She won't want to wound my self-respect. She won't want to stab me in the heart again. Ha ha ha. Well, little Ginny, That won't be the thing that you'll want to save from harm later tonight. After tonight, you will dance when I say dance. You will leap when I say leap.
I won't like having your obedience though, I suppose. You used to be quite a rebel. I liked that. I need someone to fight me for once. But I do feel the need to ensure your submission. Come on, Gingerbread. Give in to me. Or rebel. It'll be more enjoyable that way. You're playing right into my hands. Come on. Dance!
Third Person: Ginny watched him go with saddened eyes. She didn't want him to go, surprisingly enough. Out of all the inhabitants of this pitiful excuse for a world, one would think the last person Ginny would confide in would be Draco Malfoy. But she didn't need to confide in him. It was like he could interpret all of her thoughts and secrets just by looking at her. And he understood. Without her saying a solitary word, he understood exactly what she felt. For he had felt the same way… once upon a time.
There was a Quidditch game that day. Normally they would be held later on in the year, say the 23rd or even after, but Dumbledore had said the school needed to be diverted from worries of the attack and needed to laugh because of them. So the match was held this fine day. And Draco had better win. But if there was a match, didn't that mean it was Saturday? Matches had always been held on Saturdays. That was all that her brothers felt fit to mention in their letters home. Dear Mom, Quidditch, Quidditch, school… blah… and did I mention Quidditch? But if it was a Saturday, then Halloween was on a Wednesday like she had tried to tell Tom. And he lied to her. She had assumed it before…. but couldn't believe it until that proof..
Hermione frolicked into the row, prancing with her new book centimeters from the bridge of her nose. Ginny had been silently contemplating and comprehending all that had happened. It's extremely hard for an eleven-year-old to understand so much when it's all heaved at you at once. She had to deal with the facts of her on/off relationship with Draco, visions overpowering her mind with flashbacks of being pressed into the floor by Tom's heaving body every chance they got, her body being slowly taken over by this force that came to her in her dreams and got stronger through her fear, and her fear for Tom about all the Chamber nonsense. It couldn't be real, that Chamber. Could it?
Seeing the girl lost in thought, Hermione hesitated, wondering whether or not she should stir her. Perhaps Ginny would like to go to the match. Well, everyone knew she did. Harry was at the match. And anywhere Harry went, was sufficient for Ginny. But, against her morale judgment, Hermione left the row as though she had never been in it. No one was going to stalk her boyfriend and carry on with it. Not really her boyfriend, if you want to get technical. But did Ginny ever have even a slight possibility with THE Harry Potter? Ha! I believe not.
Mere minutes later, the library even more deserted than before, Ron burst in, searching infuriated for his sister. Peeved at having to look for her this close to a Quidditch game, stormed into the row, grabbed Ginny by the wrist, and pulled her up. Ginny winced as her arm took hold of a reddish color and looked up at her brother, looking every bit as small as she felt. He towered over her easily and if he tightened his grip on her wrist, it would easily snap the brittle bone.
"Where the hell have you been?" He asked, raising his voice to just over the rate at which eardrums begin to lose their sound-catching capabilities. Being jostled back out of her own little world by his sudden inclination to check up on his baby sister was sweet, but Ginny knew that wasn't the case.
"What difference does it make? I'm here now and that's all that matters to you. Now go join your dense Gryffindors pals and go root for the team in your brainless sport because now at least you can write to Momma and tell her what a complete bitch I'm being. Is that what you're going to do?" That's what she wanted to say… What she said was, "What does it matter? I'm here now…" and then her voice died out. Ron clutched onto her arm, lecturing her the whole way out of the library about the "one thing boys want".
They were rushing towards the game when Ron finally let go of her. Apparently taking a prisoner required too much effort for ickle little Ronniekins. He raced across the yard and up the stairs faster than Ginny's eyes could follow. Rubbing her arm to try and get the red down, Ginny glared at the flaming hair she could randomly spot through the windows around the sections leading up the stairs. Draco had better win this match, she thought to herself as she followed her brother's path. Occasionally looking out the windows, she made her way up the stairs, stopping at one just in time to see Harry's arm smash against the Bludger. A collective groan mingled with Ginny's sharp intake of breath. But wait…. He grabbed the snitch! Right out from above Draco's head and Harry got it! Damn it!
Harry drifted down to the ground in an almost angelic pose and Ginny was trapped against the wall by the avalanche of people running to see if the savior of the entire Wizarding world was all right. By the time she got down to the field, a crowd surrounded Harry, each tight pressed against everyone else. Luckily for her, Ginny had grown up the smallest in a family of boys. Whenever her mother wasn't yelling at her to come and learn to be a lady, or yelling at her to act like one, she and her brothers would play in the woods surrounding the Burrow. She crawled under legs, skirts, hanging jumpers, and more until she reached the center.
Like on a sacrificial table, Harry lay with a good foot from everyone else. After locking eyes briefly with him, a muttering from above her made her look to see who was speaking in the dead silent stadium. All she saw was a flash of pearly teeth and a blinding light that caused her to pinch herself to see if she was dead or not as an incantation was cast. That was when the crowd all gasped in unison as felt the need to push her to the ground so they could see better while they oohd and ahhd above her. She also heard Colin go through what sounded like thirty rolls of film.
The crowd dispersed as Harry was carried away to the Hospital Wing with more than just the Gryffindors following. With a grunt, Colin helped pull Ginny off the ground. He uneasily shifted his weight from foot to foot as Ginny dusted herself off. She took his arm. "Thank you, Col." She said, smiling. He didn't return the glee. "C'mon Col. Talk to me. I said I was sorry earlier. Colin, I'm sorry. I really am. I never meant to call you a freak." At these harmful words, he bowed his head and made sure no one else was around. Ginny saw this and for his benefit, lowered her voice to a whisper only he could hear. "It wasn't fair of me. I didn't- wouldn't- couldn't give you another chance after you told me. I'm sorry." Still, after all of that, Colin wouldn't meet her gaze. Clenching her hands, Ginny plastered a smile to her face. How she was beginning to get a little short with all of these... These idiots who wouldn't forgive her or wanted her forgiveness! There was only so much a person could deal with in a day! "Look at me! I'm apologizing to you." As his answer he just shuffled his feet. "I'm sorry! How many times do I have to say it?" Ginny felt herself cry but couldn't stop as she grabbed both of Colin's arms and pulled him in for a hug. Shocked, he awkwardly patted her on the shoulder until she calmed down.
Then he positioned her to where they were staring at each other. Tears still leaked out of her eyes but this time much slower and less each time. "Until you mean it." Ginny opened her mouth to argue, but stopped, nodding in submission. "So what do you want this time, Ginny." Taking a breath to continue her previous argument, he held his hand up. "Another picture of Harry spark your interest? Go ahead. Take 'em all! He'll never feel the slightest twinge of any emotion but annoyance for me while you actually have a chance." He flung all his newly developed pictures on the ground and walked off in a huff to the school. Ginny bent down, gathered all the pictures, salvaging some from the muddy torture they were getting and was met with smiles of gratitude from the myriad of Harry's watching her, and then running after Colin.
"Colin, wait!" Annoyance etched into his face, he stopped and faced Ginny who shoved the mound of pictures into his hands. "I didn't come here to steal your pictures or to call you names. I came to apologize, and I mean it. I am sorry. So sorry, you wouldn't even know. Harry is going to be in the Hospital Wing all night. I heard that much. This is your chance. Go to him tonight and ask him… out. If he says no, I will pretend to go out with you- to have gone out with you since Halloween. What's the worst that could happen? You'll at least never wonder what if…"
Colin sniffed. "He could tell." He whispered. "He could tell everybody. They'll think I'm more of a freak than I already am. No. Ginny, please, just let me go." Ginny blocked the outlet with her arm, trapping Colin as she had been trapped many a time.
"Listen, Col. I wont let anyone, especially him, say those things about you. If he says no, which he won't, I told you I would pretend to go out with you. He's sick. Probably delirious from all the pain he's in… and no one is going to believe him. This is your chance, Colin Creevey. I am not going to let you pass it up." He was silent for a long time.
Slowly, turning, he asked in a small voice, "Do you really think I have a chance?" Ginny smiled through her tears. She nodded feverishly. Colin still looked unconvinced. "Really?"
"I know you do, Colin." After contemplating in his head, he nodded. She smiled and kissed him on the cheek before he had a chance to run. Smiling back at her, but still having a reproachful look, Colin pushed her away and walked off, waving.
As soon as he left, Draco appeared behind Ginny. "Midnight tonight." He whispered airily in her ear, causing her to tremble. "Be there, princess." When she turned to face him, all that was there was the meadow of grass blowing together in the wind.
Colin was crouched over in a corner chair crying when Ginny came into Gryffindor tower. Hurrying over to him, she could already hear his whimpers. There were red marks glowing in some sorts against his drained, blood-less cheeks. With all these marks plus the dull, purplish scrapes that covered half his face, the aspect of where these injuries came from was evident. The beginnings of several bruises were already staring to show beneath the red. "What happened?" She inquired, holding a damp handkerchief to the torn skin underneath his eye. "You can tell me." She added when he shirked away from her contact.
"It was… Malfoy. Him and his gang of cronies cornered me on my way back to the castle. They heard you talking… or were jealous of how you acted towards me. I don't know. They called me a…" His voice cracked as he tried to push the wretched word from his lips. "Freak." Ginny embraced the shivering boy. "I don't want to tell Harry, Ginny. With two gangs of people so different, no one will think that it's not true." Colin avoided her eyes. All she did was shush him and squeezed tighter.
"You have to." He just blinked away tears and picked up some grapes from the table beside them to give to Harry. She knew Harry hated Hospital Wing food and this would be just what he needed. Stuttering, Colin grabbed Ginny's attention once again.
"B-bu-but why?" That surprised Ginny. Why did she want Colin to go to Harry? She certainly didn't want them to get together. But he needed to go to Harry tonight. Something told her it was important. And at least now he didn't hate her anymore. But Harry would. But she loved Harry. No she didn't. But yes she did. Why were her two inner muses arguing like this? Why?
Handing him his camera for the journey, she shook her head. "I don't know. Why do you feel this way for… for a boy?" That got through to him.
"I don't know." With a final fleeting look, he snuck out the portrait hole. Ginny watched him go before slumping down into his chair. A familiar feeling of darkness overcame her and she didn't know what happened next.
When she awoke, the moon was high in the sky. 'Oh, no. Draco is going to be so mad.' It was 11:49. She was supposed to meet Draco in the Slytherin stands in eleven minutes. It was highly improbable to get all the way from the tower to the stands in eleven minutes. Ginny checked the clock uneasily. One minutes was lost. Deciding it would be better to be a little late than have Draco out for her blood the next day if she totally blew him off, she broke out and ran, taking steps four at a time.
Arriving out of breath at the top of the Slytherin stands, Ginny lifted her head to see the large clock hanging from the school that you could see for a mile and hear the chimes for miles around. 11:58. She made it. Now, where was Draco? He didn't seem the type to be late for his own appointments. "To answer your thoughts, I am right here." Ginny turned to peer into the shadows. Draco was lounging about over two chairs watching her. He had something he was twisting about and playing with in his hands, but Ginny couldn't see what it was. "But why are you here, I may ask? Don't you know better, you spoiled brat?" Ginny took a step back, feeling the cold, metal protective rail on her back.
"Didn't… you tell me to be here, Draco?" Draco stood up like he was drunk on something and started to move towards her. She stiffened as he pulled her so his hands were around her collarbone from the back. He played with her hair and lightly laughed into her ear.
"You should know better than to trust me." Ginny breathed deeply, not able to see what he would do next. Seeing her tense, Draco hurriedly put his wand to her temple.
"Stupefy!"
