A/N: Is it just me or does the Ginny x Tom 'ship seem so perfect? Ginny pining and loving Tom, Tom (Voldemort) holding a spot in his nearly non-existant heart for her? I love it. It showed that Ginny was less than happy in her life to confide like that. Also, has anybody noticed how in the Draco x Ginny 'ship Ginny usually ends up being evil or turning Draco good? Or that in the Ginny x Harry 'ship, one ends up saving the other and there both freaking saints? Is that wierd or what? Anyway...On to the story! Yay for evolving writing skills! Writing classes do come in handy!
Ginevra could very calmly watch somebody die. After all, she had watched as her fellow students looked at a reflection of a basilisk and become rigid in terror, fear screaming across there eyes and panic roughly shaking long-forgotten survival instincts into use only for them to be drowned by darkness.
She had used her own blood to write the messages one the walls, taking a perverted joy in it, becoming-dare she think it-aroused by such a vulgar act. That she had used red paint or the blood of the roosters she had killed was a common misconception. A smile would twist her lips as she thought about those roosters, they're hearts racing like lightening then slowing to an agonizing pace as her small, weak fingers slipped on the silky white and red feathers.
Ginevra loved it. Loved the feeling of wielding power over these small, insignificant things. It was wild, uninhibited, and her mouth would actaully water at the thought of killing again. Tom used to say she was born to kill, to defend what she believed right. That she was destined to become someone and something so powerful that even Voldemort would cringe before her, helpless and seduced by her erotic looks and raging, angry powers.
So, then, why did she feel so hopeless? Why did she fear battling side by side with Harry? It was her place to die beside her lover, to accept her fate and smile, to enjoy the life she had. And what a life it was, being battered and liking it, then loathing the person who did it because he begged her forgiveness and cried and wanted her to hold him and soothe him afterward!
It was an insult to her, and she wished for him to die in some seconds, wished she could tighten her now strong fingers around his heroic, tragic, pathetic neck and squeeze and squeeze until his eyes glazed over and she could look at him with a cruel smile, feel like she could live up to Tom's expectations.
Thoughts like this constantly plagued her, for Ginevra was not what anyone thought. Underestimated and left to her own devices, she had learned much. She bought Muggle books on the occult, vampires, werewolves, and any type of witchcraft and religion she could possibly put her hands on. Many of these books were stolen, and she felt no guilt about that fact. She also bought-and stole-many books on the Dark Arts, on legal actions taken against Witch's and Wizards, on vampires and werewolves, on potions and complicated ritual spell.
She learned too much, and yet she didn't learn enough. She hungered for more knowledge, for more words, for more anything. She craved keenly for a romance in which words needed not to be spoken, in which glances would suffice, in which they could read each other's moods, but that seemed like it was not to be.
So she hated the world and decided to carve it and mold it gently but roughly into her hands, to make love to it and make it hers.
"Ginny, come on," Harry said, tugging her away from the book on a highly regarded Wizarding school that was nearly impossible to get into. It taught the Dark Arts, trained the Witches and Wizards to be Aurors or the guardians of a prison more protected than Azkaban.
"Alright, Harry, let me just put this back," she said demurely, moving to the back of the shop. Ginevra flipped quickly to the back of the book and scrutinized the sample spells and potions. They were complicated, and would take days to finish. She grinned and slipped it into the inside pocket of her cloak.
"Ginny!" Harry said impatiently as he walked toward her.
"Sorry, Harry. Where are we going next?" Ginevra slid her hand into his, smiling sweetly at him as she pressed a brief kiss to his lips.
"We're going to walk to the post office. I need to send off a letter to Remus," Harry said, glancing at her before setting off.
"What's your letter about?" She asked, waving at Ernie MacMillan.
"Things to do with the Order, you wouldn't be interested," he said dismissively, his nails suddenly biting into the back of her hand.
"Harry?" She asked, stopping and looking into his eyes.
"Nothing, Gin, come on, I don't have time for you to be slow if I'm going to meet Hermione and Ron in ten minutes." Harry pulled her along, and they fell silent, Ginevra keeping her face neutral.
After posting his letter, the two of them walked to the pub and were met at the door by a flushed Hermione.
"Been running?" Harry asked lightly, gifting her with a smile as he held the door open.
"Yes, actually. I was trying to find a book on this prestigious Wizarding school in Ireland that has a better level of teaching than any school in the world. I can't find the book anywhere, though I remember speaking to Miss Patty, she's the owner of the bookshop, and she said she had one left! I wish I could get my hands on it," Hermione said, sitting down and taking the butterbeer Ron offered her.
"I've heard of that school," Ginevra said, smiling at her friend.
"Probably not, Ginny, you don't read very often and nobody ever mentions it," the curly haired girl said, taking a swig of her drink
Ginevra pushed her Sugar Tonic away from her without taking a single swallow, her anger gripping her briefly, and settled instead for reading the book she had lifted, taking satisfaction that it was the very one Hermione was looking for. Rage coursed through her dimly, but she ushered it away, and threw herself into her reading.
"Gin, do you ever stop reading those trashy romance novels?" Ron asked, scowling darkly.
"It's not a trashy romance novel," Ginevra answered, her voice laced with disdain that went unnoticed.
"It's a work of art, then?" Hermione teased with a smile.
"It's a book, obviously," she replied scathingly, her tone going unnoticed again as the three friends again took up there conversation, leaving Ginevra to her reading and her observations of the dirty, common pub.
(spacer)
"I can't take it," Ginny murmured to herself as she stalked along the hallways, glancing around for couples hidden away in a dark corner, or mischief makers trying to pull a gag worthy of the Weasley twins.
The monotony of her life was dragging at her like bony fingers grabbing at her robe, tugging and tugging until she was too tired to drag the bodies attached and just gave up, sinking like they wanted her to.
"It eats at you," she whispered, walking swiftly through the halls, fingers trailing across the walls and portraits.
"It eats at you until you can barely breathe, until you're so overcome with such overwhelming emotions you can't describe you'll give up your soul for something you can understand, if not know. Overwhelming..." The redhead trailed off as she came upon Draco Malfoy, who was standing with is back to her, bent over a book, his wand lighted.
"What are you reading when you should be patrolling, Malfoy?" Ginevra drawled, imitating him.
He whirled to face her, and she matched his sneer. It suited her more, because of her angry, stormy eyes.
"I, you disgrace of pureblooded families, am reading ahead in my lessons. Do you have a problem with that or is this your idea of talking dirty?" He asked silkily, his look innocence that of an angel.
With an angry glare, she turned, her robes whipping around her feet, preparing to walk away from him.
"Don't let Potty bite," she heard him say, but his attention seemed elsewhere.
He had dismissed her from his mind before she was even out of his sight! Just like they all did! Just like always! Bile rose in her throat and she bit down hard on her lower lip, stunned to taste blood sweep over her tongue seconds later.
The world was spinning out of control, rocking on its axel, ready to plunge far away from it. The dim shadows pressed in on her, her breath came in short, rapid bursts. The walls spun around her, the ground beneath her feet seemed to shake as if trying to buck her off of it, as if deeming her not worthy.
She whirled around again, her hand shot out and her fingers closed around his neck, bitten nails digging harshly into his jugular.
"Gin-" He managed to sputter before trying to gasp in a breath as her fingers tightened, tightened. He fastened his hands on her fingers, first scrabbling at them then finding a grip and pulling, hearing the sharp crack as one-or maybe more-broke.
He turned to look at her, and Ginevra stared back, her hands hanging limply at her sides.
"Nobody fucking dismisses me, Draco Malfoy!" She said, her voice low, dangerous, sensual.
"Well, you just found the one person who does, bitch, now go before I report you for attempted murder," he said, stepping towards her. He stood about seven inches taller than she, and as she craned her neck up to look him in the eye, fury blazed across her face, adding color to her pale skin.
"Aggravated fucking assault, you prick," she hissed, the air crackling with the tension between them.
"Screw that, you psycho," Draco answered, walking past her.
"Draco, you forgot your present!" Ginevra sweetly sing-songed, her eyes snapping.
The blonde turned and she couldn't help but feel a delicious dampness between her legs at his dishevel, angry silhouette.
"What the fuck are you on about?" He asked irately.
Power blasted from her, a blinding yellow-red light echoed through the hall, and Ginevra laughed as she sobbed, feeling all the emotions that had been building up for the past weeks slip from her.
She slid quietly to the floor, allowing the blackness to slide over her, and she giggled weakly. Nobody would point any finger at her, innocent little Ginny, alone on the nightly patrol with Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Sex God.
(spacer)
Now, my love, as I slowly come out of my spelled state and put pen to paper again, I still find that I shudder with fear at the memory of that night. I thought you had come to me to shag again, and the look on your face when I turned, it was too intense for me.
Now, remembering the pain I felt, the pain that wracked my body and crawled through every cell and vein, trying to tear me apart, I fear you. I fear for you. I fear for myself, also.
When all is said and done, we are all mortals, and our lives will probably not matter three hundred years from now. True, the Malfoy name will most likely still be around, I know mother spelled herself so she would give birth to a boy. True, you will rise in your power, become a teacher, but...
Will our souls be immortal, as everyone believes, or is just an eloquent, romantic myth? Will be re-incarnated to join again, questing for the time when we are together from birth to old age, loving and caring and needing?
I feel as if I've known you forever, yet I know you not at all. I know your favorite color is a pale, pale blue, your favorite flowers are sprays of baby's breath, and your favorite color rose is pink.
Your favorite food is garlic bread with marinara sauce to dip it in, you favorite cheese is provolone; your favorite movie is Cinderella, no matter how childish it is. Your favorite number is twenty-nine, because it promises thirty, and because it has left so many other numbers in its wake.
I know you, but you are a stranger. Your touch is always different, you eyes always more haunted, you voice always fainter. I live in terror that someday, probably soon, you are going to die and leave me. How I wish I could save you; let you live through me, take away every hurt you've accumulated.
My love, you are so strong, and yet you are so weak. I loathe you for it, I admire you for it.
I am, my darling, addicted to you more than I could be addicted to anything, and if I could go back in time and change our life, I would.
(spacer)
Three days passed for Ginevra before Malfoy woke, dazed and muttering about insanity and sociopaths. A smile spread across her face as she reported to him when her patrol was done.
On the fourth night, as she was telling him that she had found two Hufflepuff first years, the twins, Joey and Chloe, hiding dungbombs and spelling them to go off when everyone was headed to the Great Hall in the morning, Ginevra kissed him.
His eyes widened, and his hands came up to weakly push her away.
"I don't fuck crazy idiots," he said angrily.
"I don't fuck arrogant wimps, but there you are," she answered, dragging the tip of her tongue along the curve of his ear. Draco moaned, pulling her on top of him in acceptance to his attraction and grabbing her arse to pull her against him. She giggled, her lips humming against his, and he kissed her.
Ginevra felt herself let go, felt her giddy happiness expand in her head until she was dizzy with it, drunk on the adrenaline coursing through her as she fumbled with the drawstring on his pajama pants and he ripped her blouse open, sending buttons clattering everywhere.
She rolled off of him, and he straddled her, sliding her skirt down her pale, lush legs. He kissed her thighs before tasting her for the first time, his tongue questing for a certain spot that would drive her crazy.
She bucked against his hands as he nipped her labia, dragging the flat of his tongue from the bottom of her slit to the top, swirling the tip of it around her sensitive clit. She went rigid at that moment, and he swallowed the juices that seeped out of her with relish.
He kissed her, allowing her to taste herself, smirking as she re-coiled but kissed him back anyways as he slid into her, his fingers gripping her hips bruisingly hard.
"Do you like it?" He whispered in her ear, panting.
Ginevra's back arched as her fingers dug into him, and he took one hand to drag his nails down her stomach, leaving red welts that oozed tiny drops of ruby red blood.
"Love...it..." Ginevra moaned, clutching his shoulders.
(spacer)
"Ginny! Wait!" Harry called, running up to her and sliding his arm around her waist.
She smiled at him, not saying anything, as she took an apple out of her pocket. Harry frowned at her, and she tossed it aside instead of taking a bite, her mouth watering and her stomach growling. She hadn't eaten in a week.
"Lavender said that you can wear muggle clothes to the party...so wear that amazing red dress. The one with full skirt that goes down to your knees? With the...the tiny straps," he said, frowning slightly.
"Okay. Mind if I go talk to Luna? She said she'd let me copy her notes. I spaced during Binn's class," Ginevra said lightly, waving at the blond.
"I do mind, but go ahead anyway. It's not like you had time before or anything like that, so you could spend time with me," Harry said pointedly after kissing her, his teeth biting her lower lip.
She touched to fingers to her mouth, the slight pain already gone, and she looked at him sadly.
"I'm sorry, Gin! I didn't mean to!" Harry said suddenly, drawing her into his arms tenderly.
Anger flared in her again, mixed with the familiar disgust.
"It's okay," she said, trying to control her exasperation.
"I love you, you know that, right?" He asked helplessly, showering her face with kisses.
"Tonight at ten," she answered automatically, before turning and leaving to hide in Luan's random talk of crazy ideas.
Luna handed her the paper, then, just like Draco, she dismissed the redhead. The power burst forth again, with no color this time, but Luna dropped to the ground, and her face was ashen. Her chest didn't move, and someone screamed this out.
Ginevra promptly passed out. Who could point the finger at her, the girl who was present as Voldemort managed again to somehow get his magic inside the school grounds?
Nobody fucking dismissed her!