Author's Note: Sizzle sizzle. Ooh, electric energy is just sparking from my fingertips. HAHAHAHA. I love having complete control over my computer. (Singing in a sing-song voice and dancing around room.) I am the Queen of short-cuts, I am the Master of loopholes, weeeeeeeee! Sorry, glad to get that out of my system, I'm just so happy I can actually upload again. RIGHT, SO: PAY ATTENTION! This chapter (if you can't guess by the chapter title) is a rather sad one. Perhaps I'll just stop uploading here...Nah. Read and Enjoy!

Disclaimer: ARRGGHHHH! Not mine, unless it is, and if it's not, it belongs to effing J. effing. K. effing. Rowling!...effing.

Dancing Life

Chapter 9: Holidays – Part 2: The Christmas Monkeys of Hate

Ginny smiled up at Ron fondly. He was gesturing animatedly, waving his hands about, his face red. He was apparently shouting at the top of his lungs, but Ginny really couldn't know that; she was using the new product of Fred and George's.

It was a little sound box you put in your ear, which carried every song imaginable: you simply had to think of the beginning, or any other part of the song to start it playing in your head. Right now, the Playing By Ear boxes weren't on the market, but she was glad Fred and George had sent some to her early for Christmas.

Ginny smiled, unfazed, up at Ron, who was still motioning wildly. As soon as Ron had started berating her for letting Draco kiss her, and not emasculating him, she'd inconspicuously slipped the PBE box in the dipping cup of flesh inside her ear.

Listening to the British Muggle group, Queen, well known in both the wizarding world and non-wizarding one, Ginny smiled again. She would have to remember to send the twins a large batch of her bourbon puffs: crumbly balls of cake-like substance infused with cinnamon, nutmeg, bourbon, and powdered sugar.

"Fine, Ron. I have to get back to work. I'll see you at dinner tonight." She grinned up at him. He stopped flailing his arms about and stared down at her, uncomprehendingly, as a song blazed in Ginny's ear.

Is this the real life?

Is this just fantasy?

Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality

Open your eyes

Look up to the skies and see…

I'm just a poor boy; I need no sympathy

'Cause it's easy come; easy go

Little high; little low

Any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to me

To me…

Ginny glanced up at Ron. He was talking again. She deftly removed the PBE box from her ear, fingering it carefully.

"-lad you came to your senses, Gin. I was starting to worry about you. Well, since that's taken care of, I guess I'll leave you to your work." He didn't move, though. "You're looking much happier, Gin. I always knew this would work out. You'll be great." He waved as he walked off, leaving a thoroughly confused, but not too perturbed Ginny behind.

Quoting the immortal Freddy Mercury, she whispered to herself as she slipped the box back in her ear, "Nothing really matters to me."

That wasn't entirely true; there was one thing, right now, that mattered to her.

Draco.

She stood, standing stiffly from the armchair she'd been occupying for the past hour. She looked down at her out fit and smiled, glad she hadn't waited to send Heather a thank-you note.

She was wearing her mother's green sweater-top along with the deep green pleated skirt Heather had sent her, and heavy black tights, with a warming spell. Her new clunky black boots felt heavy as she moved around.

She smiled to herself. Draco was probably still asleep now. She ran back up to her room and grabbed her broom and her shimmering cloak. She glanced around, but everyone had already left for the breakfast feast. Perfect. She thought, grinning to herself as she kicked off from her window.

Draco walked towards the doors to the Great Hall in higher spirits than he could ever remember being in. Everything was going as well as he could hope for, possibly even better. He glanced up ahead of him, noticing three very familiar backs. He sneered. This day was getting even better, and big brother Ron would probably try to pick a fight with him anyways.

He snuck up behind the 'Dream Team', ready to make some snide comment. Ron's words cut him short, though.

"Thank the gods she's not really serious about Malfoy." Draco took a step back, but followed behind them. "Thanks for agreeing to take her, Harry. I know she's just my little sister and everything, but hey, she'd pretty enough, and I know you'll treat her better than that git Malfoy." He shuddered, and to Draco's surprise, Hermione hit him soundly on the back.

"Ron!" She admonished. "You don't know how Malfoy treated Ginny! He might have been actually good to her. Heaven knows he's been less of a prat these days. But did you think of that? No. You just immediately assumed that it was just Malfoy being the Malfoy you know. He's changed, Ron. Even I can see it. Why won't you just let her do what she wants? You never worry about her, or even really, care about her, any other time. Did you even look at her present?" She asked sharply.

Ron went a little pink and stammered "uh, well, no…I…there were other…I was kind of busy." He admitted. Hermione glowered at him. "Well, I wasn't too busy to take a peek and do you know what? She got me, and you" she rounded on Harry, finger pointing, before turning to Ron again "and you, if you'd bothered to look, tickets to see the Chudley Canons play this summer."

Ron's jaw dropped open and Harry snorted. "C'mon, Hermione. It's Malfoy for the love of God!" He spat.

Hermione whirled on him with a look that would have made even Draco quail. "You have no room to talk, Harry. You ignored the girl, even teased her and poked fun at her for six years. And now, suddenly, you find her irresistible because she's with your worst enemy. You didn't even look at her present either! Just leave her alone!" She fumed.

"Hey, she wants to go to the dance with me! She still wants me, so I guess Malfoy doesn't mean that much to her as you thought, so just give it up, Hermione." Harry yelled, and he and Ron stomped into the Great Hall, leaving Hermione standing alone, and downright furious.

Draco's mind was reeling. Ginny promised Potter she'd go to the dance with him? Emptiness consumed Draco. He felt sick and tired alternately. He focused on the one thing in his line of vision; the bushy-haired Mudblood he'd hated since his first year.

Only now she'd stood up for him. Perhaps she wasn't as bad as he thought. He strode up to her as she started to move towards the Great Hall again. "Granger." He called softly. She whirled around to face him, her brown eyes startled.

"Malfoy?" She asked, surprised to see him coming towards her without the customary sneer. This time, it was replaced by a speculative look.

Draco grabbed her wrist and pulled her down a hallway and into the nearest empty classroom before she had a chance to say anything. He closed the door behind him and turned on the Gryffindor Head Girl.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, sinking into a desk, looking tired and somehow, older.

Draco frowned. "Is she going with Potter?" He asked, clenching his teeth. Hermione bit her lip. "I'm assuming so. Ron talked to her a little while ago, apparently about you and her, and he said he told her she would go with Harry to the dance or no one at all."

She glanced nervously up at him before continuing. "And, supposedly, she said 'fine'." Suddenly she stood, face contorted in anger. "Ron really pisses me off sometimes. Harry too. They just won't leave her alone! They've not paid the slightest attention to her in six years, and now, just because she's going with someone they don't like, they think they can just barge into her life and take their places there." She slammed a tiny fist onto the desktop. "It's not right!"

Draco, slightly stunned by this passionate outburst, stepped back. She turned her gaze to him. "I don't know if Ginny really is going or not, nor do I know how you treat her. But I do know that she's been happy lately, and that she doesn't like Harry, at least not that way. So, if you're willing to take care of her, I won't stand in your way."

She held up a finger threateningly. "But I am warning you: Head Girl or not, if you hurt her, I'll hex you into the next dimension!"

Draco felt a grin tugging at the corner of his lips, though the overwhelming sadness and anger at Ginny smothered it. He had to go find her. Better yet, perhaps he'd just crawl into bed and never come out. He couldn't deal with her telling him she didn't want to see him anymore. He'd just die, though it sickened him as a Malfoy that anyone had gotten under his skin to the point of utter dependence.

He stood, giving Hermione a thoughtful glance. "Well, thanks Granger. I suppose." He stuck out his hand grudgingly. She stared at it for a second before taking it in her own. She pumped it quickly before dropping it. "I love Ginny, Malfoy. She's a very special person, though I think you've figured that out for yourself, as Harry never did. I just want to see her happy; she deserves it. Remember what I said." She stood and exited the room.

Draco sat for a moment before following suit, heading back up to the Slytherin common room; he'd lost his appetite.

Blaise sunk down deeper into the plush green bed in his (rather Janet's) room. Sighing, Heather did the same. Both had just awoken, and were shooting each other shy smiles.

After the initial shock of seeing their dance teacher pop up from the roof of Janet's car, the couple were quite elated to find that Skye and Janet had not only gone to Hogwarts together (and Skye had been in Gryffindor!), but were living together! Skye and Janet were a couple!

The idea was new, but an utterly adorable one; the pair were quite cute together, and Blaise and Heather felt more at ease than with most boy-girl couples, excluding Draco and Ginny. For one thing, the snogging was kept at a minimum, as Blaise and Heather agreed to do the same for their benefit.

They had arrived back at Janet's spacious home (nowhere near as large as Zabini manor, but not so small that Blaise and Heather got their own rooms, while Skye and Janet slept out on a fold-out couch in the living room) rather late, Janet shepherding them off to the rooms before they could protest.

Both had slept soundly after a long journey on an uncomfortable train. Waking up early in the morning, they'd met the quaintest picture in the living room before quietly sneaking off back to Blaise's temporary room. In the living room, which had been decorated in slight Muggle fashion, with a large, ornament-adorned fir tree, were Janet and Skye. Sprawled out on the king-sized mattress, the pair was fast asleep.

Skye was snoring gently, her bubble-gum colored head rising and falling with every breath Janet (on whose chest she'd fallen asleep) took. Janet had one arm wrapped under Skye's back, and Skye had snuggled up into a ball, one arm across Janet's midsection, which was bare where her large tee had ridden up to her ribs, and the other resting peacefully on her stomach, which was covered by Janet's other hand. Their legs disappeared into a tangle of sheets, but it was apparent that they were entwined, wrapping the pair close in slumber.

Blaise glanced nervously at Heather, to see how she'd taken the shock; after all, he had lived with Janet for several months, and he knew what to expect. To his surprise, Heather was grinning softly. "Those two are so perfect for each other." She whispered softly.

Blaise's face exploded into a smile. "Sound like anyone else you know?" He teased, wrapping his arms around her waist as her pulled her back on the bed. Heather smiled and fell back asleep, ready to miss Christmas if she could just stay in Blaise's arms all day.

Ginny lowered herself over her broom: a Starstripe XFS. It was a European model, and not too fast, but it was comfortable, sleek, and turned on a dime. She flew up higher, careful to stay in the shadows of the castle.

Heather had once pointed out the Slytherin dormitory windows, on a walk with her several weeks before in attempt to get away from the Dream Team for just a while. Ginny was now glad she had.

She flew up to the windows, which were only viewable if you were looking for them, and in the right spot. Carefully bringing her broom to a hovering standstill, she peered around the edge of the window. It was closed, and she could barely see through the thick glass. She leaned in closer.

Her heart did double-time. Draco was there! And the rest of the room was empty, the other Slytherins probably down at breakfast. She leaned over the handle of her broom, pulling her wand out from her back pocket. "Alohomara." She whispered, delighted as the window opened readily.

Draco was lying on his side in bed, his back turned towards her. Ginny leaned down and flew in through the window, careful not to hit the sides. She turned and pulled the window nearly shut, afraid the snick of the lock might wake him.

She flew back over to where Draco was sleeping. Hovering over him, she smiled. He looked so peaceful and angelic in sleep. He wasn't frowning or sneering, or smirking, but he wasn't smiling either. His mouth was drawn in a line and his hair was in a mess, half-covering his eyes.

She reached down to push a strand from his face. His grey eyes snapped open, causing her to jump back, nearly falling from her broom.

Draco sat up straight. "Ginny?" He asked as she dismounted from her broom and walked over to his bedside. She sank down comfortably at the foot of his bed, smiling.

"Merry Christmas." She grinned, leaning in to kiss him.

Draco turned away, avoiding her touch. Ginny sat back, confused and hurt. "Draco?" she asked, tentatively. "Are you alright?"

Draco sneered. "Oh, I'm fine. You little bitch!" He shouted suddenly, surprising even himself, nearly scaring Ginny off the bed.

Ginny's eyes were wide with shock and alarm. "Draco!" She gasped as he grabbed her shoulders roughly, shaking her.

"WHY?!" He screamed. "Why did you do it?! Why did you make me fall in love with you so you could just go back to Potter?! You lying , sneaking, hateful bitch!" He shouted, shaking her harder and harder.

Ginny's head pounded, and she could almost feel her brain slamming into her skull as Draco shook her violently. She reached up, clasping at his forearms. "D-Draco, p-please s-s-stop!" She managed, on the verge of tears, and nearly biting her tongue off as her head snapped back forcefully.

Draco finally let her go and she tumbled back, hitting her already aching head on the footboard. She moaned softly, feeling blackness edging in around her. She closed her eyes, though refrained from fainting. Why can't everything just stop pounding? She thought, gingerly touching her head.

Draco's eyes were large and unbelieving as he stared down at his hands. He looked from them to the only person he truly cared for, realizing that he'd hurt her with his own two hands. He'd abused her, now both emotionally and physically. Why did she always bring him to such acts of violence? And when would she finally decide she'd had enough?

He reached out to touch her and felt a sharp pang in his chest as she pulled away, looking up at him with hurt, scared eyes. She huddled against the footboard, her arms clutched desperately around her, rocking herself, waiting for the next blow.

Draco's mind flashed back to an image of his mother, doing the same thing. His father had hurt her and she had pulled herself into the same, scared, protective ball. He was being like his father. The thought disgusted him almost as much as the fact that he'd hurt Ginny.

He reached out again and she squeezed her eyes shut, fat tears running down her cheeks. She tensed, as if prepared for him to strike her. She jumped when his hand touched hers lightly. "Ginny," he said, using her nickname tentatively. "I-"

Ginny glanced up at him, her eyes shining with tears, large and frightened. She looked very much like a doe right then; one that was staring down the barrel of a gun.

Draco winced, stroking her arm with his hand. "Oh, gods, I'm sorry." He whispered, touching her softly in hopes that she would stop looking so terrified. She shuddered, trying not to be comforted by his caress.

"Ginny, I'm sorry." Draco started. "But are you going to the dance with Potter?" He asked, grasping her arm lightly.

Ginny recoiled from him, eyes squeezing shut. Draco frowned, and pulled back his hand. "Are you?" He asked, a little harder this time.

Ginny finally opened her eyes, peeking up at him from under her lashes, through blurring tears. "O-of c-course not, D-Draco." She said, her voice trembling, fighting back sobs.

Draco scowled. She couldn't even tell him the truth: he could tell from the way her voice wavered and she avoided his eyes. He cupped her chin and brought it up, forcing her to face him.

Ginny bit on the inside of her cheek at his bruising grasp. She stared into his eyes and actually gasped. Instead of the anger she'd expected to see in their murky grey depths, there was hurt and betrayal. Ginny's mouth opened, but no words came out. She had no idea what had happened to cause him to be this way, but he was greatly upset.

"Don't lie to me, Ginny." He growled warningly, his hand moving down to her throat, squeezing gently on it, placing only a little pressure on her windpipe. Ginny's breath hitched, but she refused to cry or scream, though she desperately wanted to; he looked ready to kill. She knew, though, that he'd never intentionally hurt her.

She hoped.

Draco glared at her with anger, hatred, hurt, and want, all wrapped into one very confused blonde boy. "I hate liars. I had to put up with enough of it from my father and my mother. I will not tolerate anything but the truth from you." His fingers tightened.

"I want some answers. And try not to lie. I could squeeze the life from you so easily. It wouldn't take much, Just a little more force, and no more Ginevra Weasley. And that would be a shame, wouldn't it?" He sneered.

Ginny took a shuddering breath, which Draco felt under his fingers. She knew she was taking a big risk. "Would you really, Draco? I don't think so. Go ahead. I won't even scream. It's just like you said; a little squeeze and I'll be out of your hair forever. You won't ever see me again. I'll never bother you anymore. So just get it over with, because this, here, this is torture. I can't stand that pain in your eyes, even more so to know that I might have caused it. I don't know what's wrong, or what I did, but if it has anything to do with Harry; I'm not going to the dance with him. I never was, nor ever said I would. So you must have been mistaken. Not that it really matters, though. I'll be gone in a few moments, as soon as you squeeze your fingers. I can feel the strength in your hand even as it rests there; it could drain the life from me effortlessly."

She reached up and put her hand to his, almost urging his fingers to tighten on her neck.

Draco looked from her eyes, not in the least bit frightened, and down at where her hands were on his, which was shaking violently. Ginny bit her lip as she watched his internal debate going on, flitting through his eyes as he recorded horror and disgust. But was it aimed at her, or himself?

Draco's mind raced as he pulled his hand from her throat, leaving behind red finger marks, the scene dancing around his mind like a carousel. All the emotions played in his heart to the carousel's melody, picking up the pace as the seconds flew by.

Ginny was shaking a little now; the realization of what passionate anger Draco was capable of was threatening to overtake everything she knew of him. She found that she was desperately trying to remind herself of all the good things that he was.

Draco stood, pacing fretfully as Ginny simply shuddered and glanced down at the covers of his bed, which she was subconsciously entangling her long fingers in. Something deep inside told her it was best to stay quiet and let him carry out his own thoughts and actions. He would either apologize, get mad, or hit her. Ginny twisted the green cloth in her fingers, hoping that whatever he decided wasn't the latter.

Meanwhile, Draco was on the verge of insanity. His two sides were doing battle for complete control of the situation; on one hand, he wanted to yell and kick and rant and rage, mostly at her, but Potter as well. He wanted to grab her by the arms and shake some sense into her, as he'd done before. Before, he had almost wanted to hit her, he was so enraged. But on the other hand, he could almost see himself apologizing for his violent actions and doing anything and everything in attempt to make her stop trembling. She looked so scared, and it hurt like hell that she was scared of him.

Draco ran and shaky hand through his hair, tangling and spiking it. He looked over at where Ginny was still sitting on the edge of his bed, body racked with shivers and uncontrollable spasms, her eyes wide as she bit her lip nervously.

Draco's eyes darkened. What was wrong with her? Couldn't she see that he'd never hurt her on purpose? Why was she so frightened of him? Didn't she know that she was the only thing that mattered in his life anymore?

Fury and resentment welled up in the young irate blonde. Why didn't she understand? He strode over to her, grasping her arms tightly again. This time he didn't shake her, though his grip was bruising.

Ginny simply stared up at him, her eyes wide with fright. Her normally lightly colored cheeks were devoid of their rosy tint. Her entire appearance was a pale and drawn one.

"WHY?" Draco yelled, squeezing her arms again.

Ginny's jaw trembled as she tried to force words past the choking lump in her throat. "W-why what, D-Draco?" She stammered, as if speaking was a new experience for her.

Draco scowled, but still didn't shake her. His eyes were cold, hard, demanding, and in the tiniest specks that only Ginny could see; hurt. "Why would you do this to me? How could you drag me along when all you cared about was Potter? Did you ever even care?" He hissed, not realizing the near bone-crushing force he was applying to her arms.

Ginny inhaled sharply as she felt her arms growing weak from lack of circulation. She could feel her pulse beating a sound tattoo where his fingers dug into her flesh. "Damn it, Draco, what's gotten into you?" She whispered, trying to find the boy she knew; not the cruel, bullying one, but the one who had given her the most gorgeous kisses and looks. The one who held her like she was a precious treasure and rolled around in the snow with her. The one who punched guys for her.

Draco glowered at her, and her heart sank. She'd lost him; the person she had worked so hard on bringing to the stiff outer surface in him was gone.

"Answer the question, damnit." He growled deep in the back of his throat.

Ginny sighed heavily; so heavily that it almost came out as a moan. She lowered her head, tears prickling at her eyes. "I already told you, I'm not interested in Harry Potter! I don't know why you won't accept that, but I don't care about him anymore! He's actually slightly attracted to me, but it doesn't matter! D'you know why?" She asked, suddenly bringing her face up to look at him, not really caring that he could see her distress.

"Because for the past few months, there has only been one person for me. Someone I like a lot, and if he'd let me, someone I love. Someone who I thought cared about me. Someone who I know exists, though he tries to hide behind this tough exterior. This stupid sodding someone is sitting here in front of me, hurting me, in both senses of the word. And I still can't help but love him." Tears were running freely down her face as she stood abruptly, taking advantage of Draco's astonished temporary paralysis.

She rushed over to her broom and hastily swung a leg over the handle, flying straight at the window, regardless to the loud BANG! It made as she rammed it open. She didn't care; she just had to get out of there.

She kept flying. Past the castle, past where she should have turned to go back to her room, past the entrance. She needed time to think. More realistically, she needed somewhere to cry where no one would ask questions.

Ginny flew over the lake, and to the edge of The Forbidden Forest. She didn't care if it was against rules; she wanted to be alone, and at the moment, she would almost welcome a werewolf or vampire.

She landed softly on a small peninsula, jutting out into the frozen lake. The powdery snow sunk under her feet a little, but other than that, it was deathly silent. Only the whisper of the wind could be heard, and it was to that comforting sigh that Ginny cried, harder than she'd cried in years. Harder than she'd cried in Draco's arms the day before. Only now, there was no Draco to comfort her. There was only the soothing murmur of the breeze to alleviate her pain.