Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Harry Potter's world. I should only be so lucky! And I don't anything from Breaking Benjamin, even though I should since they're practically local boys around here. ;o)

A/N: This story was inspired by the album "We Are Not Alone" by Breaking Benjamin. Every chapter is the result of a song from the album. Starting here, each chapter will start with the lyrics of the song it somehow relates to, granted it may be a rather ambiguous relation. :oP Enjoy!

"So Cold"

Crowded streets are cleared away
One by one
Hollow heroes separate
As they run

You're so cold
Keep your hand in mine
Wise men wonder while
Strong men die

Chorus
Show me how it ends it's all right
Show me how defenseless you really are
Satisfied and empty inside
That's all right, let's give this another try

If you find your family, don't you cry
In this land of make-believe, dead and dry

You're so cold, but you feel alive
Lay your hand on me one last time

Chorus x2

It's all right x9

Chapter One: So Cold

Green. Red. Gold. The splashes of color surrounding Ginevra Weasley are anything but beautiful. There are brightly colored spells being tossed all around her. Some hit parts of the buildings in the once serene village of Hogsmeade, sending brick and stone flying in all directions. Others hit friends and enemies causing pain and the now common death. All around Ginny was black. The smoke was choking the air, and the cloaks of fallen Deatheaters littered the ground with an odd assortment of body parts. Ginny had no idea who was dead or who was alive from the side of the light. All she could do was hope and pray that her six brothers were still fighting strong and that Harry was still around to kill the Dark Lord.

Wait. Scratch that. Ginny didn't have time to hope and pray. She was too busy aiding the wounded and tending to her duties as a mediwitch. In the year since Ginny has been out of Hogwarts, she had attended a special school to train her to do this job. She loved every second she was learning, but it never truly prepared her for the harsh realities of war. It had been a tough year for all the students in the school. Everyone had a feeling the end of the war was near, and that the bloodiest of the battles were soon in coming. The professors at the healing school hardly gave the students any time off. Classes were held six days a week, and they only had off a few days for Christmas. A time or two Ginny had complained about the schedule, but now seeing the death and destruction which was surrounding her, she was thankful to have received so much training in such a short period of time.

Well over two dozen people have been attended personally by Ginny. She had lost count by twenty. Yes, some were Deatheaters. To Ginny, it made no difference what side they were on. She was one of the few who felt that a live Deatheater was better than a dead one, because then they would have to face the Wizengamot and live a long life in misery. Death was too easy of an escape from their wrongs. Ginny wanted to make sure that as many as possible lived so that they would have face the consequences of their decisions to follow a power hungry half-blood consumed by darkness and evil.

In between her patients, Ginny did have a small amount of time to think. Tom Riddle had made her life so horrid nearly a decade ago. And, judging by the amount of his followers which are now lying dead in the streets of the village, Ginny figured that this first bloody battle would also be the last. Tom would die tonight at the hands of Harry Potter.

Lucky bastard, I'd love to be in Harry's shoes when that moment comes so that I could 'thank' him for all he's done for me! Ginny mentally roared her angry at the thought of her lost innocence at the hands of her old "friend," Tom. There was no reference of him as The Dark Lord, Voldemort, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, You-Know-Who, etc… To Ginny, he will always be Tom Riddle. It made it easier to believe that he could be killed if she thought of him in his past, truly human form. It couldn't be too soon before he was dead at the feet of her pseudo brother. The thought of Tom still sent shivers down her spine. She still woke up screaming in the middle of the night with his soft, silky voice echoing in the back of her mind. She hasn't known true happiness in a decade because of Tom. When she had him with her, she thought she was happy. Tom made her believe that he was the missing puzzle piece from her life that had made her complete. Oh how wrong, and how right he was. She did NOT need him to make her life complete. He ruined it. However, since being rid of him, Ginny has found it near impossible to ever feel whole. Nothing and no one has been able to fill the black void Tom left in her heart. And to be honest, Ginny was terrified of the thought of having it filled. What if whatever filled that void was the same as Tom?

"MEDIWITCH WEASLEY! YOU'RE NEEDED IN ZONE EIGHT IMMEDIATELY!" Screamed Healer Thompson. He was the head healer of their field triage unit, and when he screamed like that, Ginny knew something serious was going on. Luckily for her he did scream, she may not have heard him because she had allowed herself to fall too deep into the memories and emotions attached to the mental shadow of Tom Riddle.

Ginny recollected herself at once, and ran at a dead sprint to zone eight. She met Healer Jones at the triage table as he was just finishing an initial scan of the patient. Black robes were immediately visible, and Ginny mentally questioned why Healer Thompson felt it so necessary to aid a Deatheater.

"Who's this? Why did Healer Thompson send me over with such urgency for a Deatheater? He'd rather they all die than save them!" Ginny needed these questions answered; her curiosity was beginning to affect her working abilities.

"We healers were given word by Dumbledore that if a Deatheater with a second Mark, a mark of a Phoenix feather on the back of his neck, was brought in that we needed to do everything possible to keep him alive. This patient has that second Mark; apparently he's been a spy. When Severus Snape was quite unfortunately killed by Lucius Malfoy last year, this particular individual sought out Dumbledore to offer to take the place of Snape. He's done horrible things, but he tried to do good the past year, he's very important to Dumbledore if we're ever to know all the answers to all our questions," explained Jones in a very rushed tone.

Nodding her understanding and having her curiosity taken care of, Ginny immediately set to work on the broken leg which protruded from the robes. She hadn't even bothered to take a look at just who the young man was. Yes, she could tell from his muscular legs that he had to be young. She worked diligently along side Healer Jones, hardly flinching at the sudden rasping voice trying to scream out in pain. Before she could do it herself, Jones placed an anesthetic spell on the man and she felt the body of the man immediately relax beneath her.

"He's dead! Harry did it! The war is over!"

Ginny's head whipped around so fast to look at the speaker from the door that her neck cracked. There in the doorway stood a very battle worn Hermione Weasley. Yes, that's correct. In their seventh year Ron and Hermione finally stopped being blind and started to really love one another. A year ago, right after Ginny's graduation from Hogwarts, the two had married. They wanted as much normalcy as possible before all Hell broke loose and placing the threat of one of them losing the other.

Ginny smiled at the girl, who ran off to tell others of the news. Ginny turned back to her patient, who was waking up again, and trying to ask questions of Healer Jones. Jones had done all he could, and was needed elsewhere, so he turned to Ginny and said, "You can handle the rest of it from here on out. Take care of him, Ginny. You can do it." Jones walked out of the triage unit and on to the next challenge.

Ginny walked around her patient and for the first time, looked at the face of the brave man who risked everything to give information to Dumbledore. She pushed back the hood, and gasped as she took in the sight of an aristocratic face topped with silver-blonde hair.

"Malfoy."

A thousand thoughts ran through her mind at once. No no no, this can't be the right guy! MALFOY was the follower of Tom who sought out Dumbledore once Snape was murdered?

Just then Draco Malfoy turned his head to the side. His hair had fallen in just the right way that Ginny could clearly see the second Mark of a Phoenix feather on the back of his neck. It had to be him. There was no way Healer Jones would tell such a tall tale. So it appeared that a year ago, Draco Malfoy had changed. Something about the death of Severus Snape had changed Draco for the better.

Ginny had never before realized just how handsome Draco was before this moment. He lay there on the gurney, absolutely defenseless. He felt so cold when she laid her hand on his. At first touch, the coolness of his skin might trick someone to believe he was dead. Thankfully for Ginny's training she knew he was very alive. He had lost a lot of blood, and therefore his skin was far beyond the paleness she was accustomed to; Draco almost had a translucent look about him. Perhaps it was this illusion of being able to see past his skin that made Ginny believe that there was really more to this old foe than she ever dared to believe while she was still at Hogwarts. He had risked so much to help her cause. Her cause, of course, being the cause he felt was the antithesis of his own for so many years.

He obviously had Dumbledore's trust, he must deserve mine as well, a rather distraught Ginny thought has she held the hand of a slowly stirring enemy turned friend.

Grey eyes fluttered open ever so slowly. Dilated pupils quickly contracted into pinpoints as the fluorescent light of the triage room flooded into them. A few unfocused blinks and his eyes came to rest upon a face with a dusting of freckles and framed with the deepest and beautiful shade of red hair Draco had ever seen in his life.

"Are you an angel?" he asked in barely a whisper.

Chuckling softly to herself, Ginny shook her head and replied almost as softly, "No, no angel here. Just the youngest Weasley saving your life."

"So Ginevra, then? Ah… close enough to an angel in this place." With those words said, Ginny saw for the first time in her life a true smile grace the young man's face. It was a mere shadow of what it should have been had he more energy, but it was enough to steal her breath away.

"Draco, I… I'm no angel; I'm just doing my job. And thank you for doing yours, whatever it may have been."

"Shhhhh…" A pained looked briefly flashed Draco's face before he muttered two more words. "Thank you."

A silent tear fell down the face of Draco's angel. Before she could say anything in reply, he fell into a deep sleep. His body had been ravaged by the battle, and Ginny doubted he would be able to wake up anytime soon. Giving one quick evaluation of his state, Ginny was satisfied that he was going to be okay from here on out. She gently leaned over the sleeping, and beautiful, form of Draco Malfoy and kissed his forehead.

"It's all right," were the words Ginny whispered into his ear before walking out of zone eight.

Ginny stopped to look out of the tent's opening and see for the first time the street's of Hogsmeade post battle. The streets were crowded with bodies. Her job had really only just begun. One by one, the bodies were being cleared away. Some were taken immediately the coroner's tent, while other mediwitches were separating the wounded and sending the more serious patients directly to the healers. It would only be a matter of time before another one called for her assistance. She always seemed to be one of the first called; she received all the highest marks in her classes and was one of the few who seemed to be born to help and heal.

Slowly, the aurors and others who fought for the downfall of Tom began to wander into the tent. Some where carrying innocent bystanders caught in the midst of war, others carrying one another. Instead of seeing jubilant faces, everyone seemed so hollow. Ginny wasn't surprised. So many strong and good men and women died today. She hadn't seen any of her brothers, either alive or dead. Ginny couldn't tell for the life of her if this was good or bad. All she knew is that once she found them, dead or alive, she wouldn't cry because they fought for what is right. If they were alive, why cry? If they were dead… at least it was for a worthy cause. She overheard one of the aurors, a man she recognized as Kingsley, mention how once word got out that Harry had killed Voldemort, the Deatheaters began to run in fear. A few of the aurors had then chased after them, and Nymphradora Tonks was leading the way.

Why? Why did this have to happen? Ginny inwardly sighed at this thought. Unbeknownst to Ginny, Albus Dumbledore stood at the opposite end of the battle scene, wondering the same thing. Wise men would go down in history asking this same question. Hopefully, if the was question was consistently asked, it would lead to this event in history never repeating itself.

"Mediwitch Weasley, you're needed in triage zone two." A brisk voice over the magical speakers crackled over the moans of the wounded; the broken hearted. Satisfied that she had helped so many live through the bloodiest battle in wizarding history, yet completely empty inside at the same time, Ginny made her way through the stretchers and makeshift beds. Along the way she checked on various patients, assuring each one as she went that the war really was over. In time normalcy would return.

However, normalcy would never really return in her mind. She had Draco running rampant through her thoughts. He was so different; an enigma. She felt guilty for never thinking him of anything other than evil incarnate. She wanted to know him, she had a sudden feeling that maybe, just maybe, she even wanted to love him. Quite the strange hero he had become in only a moment's time. Upon arriving zone two, she had one final thought before settling into her job…

It's all right, let's give this another try.