I had published this awhile ago, but the fanfiction people had deleted it because I used a song in it. But here it is again--songless and all. Here's one for all those broken hearts out there.

She watches him, she tries to ignore the aching in her chest, in the hollow knot where her heart used to be, she tries to ignore her trembling hands, tries to ignore the burning sensation in her throat, and she tries to ignore him altogether. But trying to ignore the only man she's ever truly, passionately loved in her sixteen years is like trying to ignore the fact that she had flaming red hair—useless and pathetic.

So she gives up her feeble battle and lets her eyes drift across the room, the ache growing every second, and she thinks for a moment she might faint. And that's okay, because if she faints she can disappear for a minute, sink into the dark abyss of her mind, and forget about all this heartache and pain. Because that'd be so much better than the feeling she has right now. The regret, the misery, the mourning. She doesn't want to admit it—she won't say it aloud, but even thinking it hurts her. She thought she was strong. But he always did make her second guess herself.

She'd doesn't want to admit it, but she knows it's true. She misses him. Misses him to the point where he's all she thinks about, day in and day out, every waking moment of her life revolves around him, misses him to the point where she makes herself sick, she can't sleep, she can't eat. Everything is numb. She can't even remember what anything feels like anymore—every emotion is a meshed blur of nothing. She never thought she'd be this fucked up over one boy—a snobby, egotistical, bitter, cruel, cocky boy…and yet he wasn't what everyone thought he was…or at least he didn't used to be. She'd seen something in him—he'd shown her a side of him he'd never shown anybody else, he'd shown her he could be caring, he could listen, he could love…

And then he had disappointed her. He'd backstabbed her; he'd left her withering on the floor of heartache, he'd hurt her…and yet hurt didn't even cover the half of it. 'Hurt' wasn't a strong enough word…damaged, scarred, nearly killed. She was absolutely crushed.

Ginny Weasley never knew falling in love with Draco Malfoy would destroy her inside and out. And yet, when she thought about it, she should have expected nothing less.

What hurts most is the fact that he doesn't seem phased at all. He still walks down the corridors of Hogwarts as if he owns the place, still wears that revolting smirk on his devastatingly handsome face, still pretends she doesn't exist. That's the worst of it—he acts like nothing ever happened between them. He acts as if they never fell in love, they never laughed together, never stayed up late all those nights talking about anything and everything, he never wiped away her tears, they never made love under the stars, he acts as if none of that ever happened. It was all apart of Ginny—she had never felt the way she did about Draco about anyone else. How could he pretend she had never happened to him. Was she that worthless? Not even worthy of a fucking memory?

When they'd first started talking, Ginny was shocked, almost appalled. She'd never expected to be having normal discussions with Draco…it had all started over Draco tutoring Ginny in Potions…her worst class, and his obvious best. At first, Draco had whined and made a fuss, and had treated Ginny like dirt. But after several lessons, actually after several weeks, Draco began to actually tolerate Ginny and one thing lead to another and they began talking outside their lessons. And they started meeting at The Three Broomsticks' for butter beers, they started studying every night, they started acknowledging each other in the halls between classes. Everyone was shocked—a Malfoy actually enjoy the company of a Weasley? It was ridiculous—a Malfoy rather die than be associated with dirt like the Weasley's. So when Draco began dating Ginny, the whole school nearly died of shock.

It was hard at first. Especially with her brothers…they nearly killed her when she told them. But Ginny was a very stubborn person—she wouldn't let her brothers stand in the way of her relationship with Draco. And Draco had it about ten times worse. His family went mad—howler after howler, threat after threat. But Draco stood firm in his choice. He was enamored of Ginny, and he'd be damned if his family stood in the way of that.

So what had went wrong? The question played over and over like a broken record inside Ginny's head. She thinks about it even more than she thinks about Draco himself. She tries to figure out if it was something she did, if it was something someone else had done. And she can't find the answer. She tries and tries to understand the reason for his hurting her, but she can't find any answers.

And deep down she knows she doesn't want to. Because finding the answers would eventually lead to moving on, and Ginny wasn't ready to let go. The wounds were still fresh; she was still a vulnerable mess.

She watches him and tries to swallow her tongue, tries to think of ways to cope with the pain. She can't—she has no way. The pain is as permanent as the scar on her left knee from the time she fell off her broom playing Quidditch with Ron.

She gets up from her seat and leaves the Great Hall. She feels eyes on her back and the hair on the back of her neck sticks up. She holds her head up and never flinches. On the outside, she is composed and calm. She passes him without a glance. He barely looks up. She feels herself breaking. She knows she is barely hanging on. Every step towards the door shatters her even more. She bites her tongue until she tastes salt and her mouth fills with her blood. Her fists are clenched so tight her knuckles are white. She manages to make it out of the castle and to the empty grounds by the lake before she can't take it any more and breaks down.

Her cries go unnoticed.

She watches the lake swirl before her, and wonders how deep it is. She can't swim, and for a fleeting moment she imagines herself sinking to the endless bottom, absorbed away from everything. The thought leaves as quickly as it came. She's not that stupid, she's not that weak. She may be a mess, but she won't give the world the satisfaction of knowing it broke her. Of knowing he broke her.

She told him things. Things she never told anyone—she told him how much she hated having to wear hand-me-downs, told him she hated her hair, told him she dreamed of moving away to the country and becoming a writer, just leaving everything behind. He told her things…things he never dared tell anyone else. He told her how he wanted more than anything to travel the world, become a photographer, how much he hated his father and the unbelievable pressure he put on Draco. They had shared secrets—he had become her best friend. Her best friend and her lover. She didn't think anything could get her.

She remembers the first time he told her he loved her. It'd been right here, right on the bank of this lake, a sunny Saturday afternoon. They'd been together for nearly five months, and it was the last thing she expected to hear. Although Draco had shown her a side of him she was sure had never seen daylight, she didn't get her hopes up. But he had said it. He had been playing with a stand of her hair as she laid on the grass, growing lazy and sleepy in the warm sunlight. She had been so content, so happy with everything. Draco had leaned down close to her face, running his hands through her hair. She had opened her eyes and smiled at him, and he'd said it. Simple as anything.

"I love you."

She almost died. She didn't know what to say. For several moments, she had just stared at him. He never flinched—his eyes weren't worried. He was that arrogant, that confident that she loved him back. After all, how couldn't she? He was Draco Malfoy for fucks sake. And she had said it back. And he had kissed her, and she had thought nothing could ever go wrong ever again. She was so sure everything was going to be alright.

How wrong she was.

She hates that long dark hair. She hates those bright, clear blue eyes. She hates that ditzy smile, that bubbly voice. She hates it with such a passion that she can barely control herself. Allura. She hates that name.

She sits in the library, trying to get away from everything like she usually does. But then they have to stroll in, hand in hand. She feels the usual wave of anger sweep over her, and then it changes to sadness and the usual heartbreak. Why oh why can't I just get away? She asks herself.

Her eyes follow Draco and Allura as they make their way to a vacant table. The little silver gleam on Allura's left ring finger catches her eyes. It's laughing at her, mocking Ginny, as if to say Look at me, look at what you could have had. Allura's laugh is loud and giggly, and Ginny's ears nearly bleed. Draco looks at Allura with a blank stare, his expression unreadable. Ginny feels her heart clench up, glaring at Allura. Ha…he never gave me that look. He always smiled when he looked at me. And then Ginny stops her train of thought…because she felt pathetic and lonely. Because she wasn't the one with the ring on her finger, she wasn't the one who was going to be walking down the aisle toward Draco in a year; she wasn't the one who had broken his heart.

Ginny watches them, and silently gathers her things. She can't take it anymore. She feels eyes on her and looks up out of impulse—he's looking at her, watching her as Allura babbles on and on. She stops for a moment, freezes, unable to think. And then a brief image flashes through her mind—a memory of long ago—

Draco…yelling at her, his eyes full of anger…cursing at her, pacing back and forth in front of her…Ginny, trying not to cry as she tried to understand what he was freaking out about…Draco, telling her it was over, he had no control of anything anymore, he couldn't see her anymore…his father, in deep trouble with Voldemort…it's the only fucking way, Ginny…can't you understand? Draco, telingl her to leave, get out dammit, get away from me…Ginny crying feebly as she retreated from the room, confused and hurt…

Her eyes snap away from his gaze and she leaves without a second glance.

He wasn't as strong as everyone thought. There was one person who could truly break him, one person who could make him do the absolute worst thing he could do—only one person who could make him break the heart of the girl he loved more than anything.

Draco always hated his father. He hated the way his father hit him when he forgot to do the dishes, he hated the way his father screamed and yelled at his mother, beat his mother, he hated the way his father told him everyday what a worthless wizard he was, he hated the way his father ignored him and only acknowledged him to hurt him, he hated the way his father loved Voldemort more than his own family, hated the way his father was so fucking fake.

He knew his father was cruel. He knew his father was bad news, and he always vowed he'd never end up like his father. He always vowed he'd never treat his family the way his father treated Draco and his mother—he vowed that when he married, it would be out of love, not out of pressure because he'd knocked up his girlfriend. He vowed he'd get out one day. He always thought he could make it—always thought that even though his father treated him so bad, he still had his free will.

No. He didn't have his free will. His father had taken that, too. In the worst possible way. Draco's father had screwed up with Voldemort. He'd done something; something Draco didn't know, but knew was serious. Because the only way Draco's father could live was if he did one thing and one thing alone. Draco's father had done something stupid, something Draco didn't know, but knew that someone had known. Blackmail. Lucious was desperate—so was this someone, a fellow Death Eater. If the Death Eater told Voldemort, Lucious would be killed. A compromise? The Death Eater was in debt. Lucious would do anything…Anything? Anything. Have your son marry my daughter for we need the money, and I'll keep my mouth shut. Done.

Draco didn't know what to do when his father had told him he'd be marrying Allura Willow. He absolutely refused—he loved Ginny, purely and with his entire being. Draco's father had been mad. Angry, furious. He told Draco he didn't have a choice. Marry the girl, or he'd kill Draco. Draco didn't care. He'd die. He wouldn't hurt Ginny. Lucious wasn't one to lose. Marry the girl, or he'd kill Draco's mother. Draco's blood went cold. What kind of a sick fuck was his father?

Lucious was a cruel man. Draco knew he'd kill his mother without any hesitation. What did Lucious need his wife for? Draco couldn't believe it. And yet, he had no choice.

He didn't even remember what he had said to Ginny. He'd yelled out her, mainly from hatred for his father, he'd cursed at her, told her to get out—he didn't want to see the heartache in her eyes. It nearly killed him. He'd never be the same man again. If only she knew how much it hurt him, if only she knew the half of it.

He loved Ginny. He'd never stop loving her. But he couldn't let his mother die. And he couldn't stand to see Ginny anymore. He was numb to everything around him, and he didn't care about anything anymore.

He wanted to kill his father. He wished he was brave enough to do it. But Draco isn't as strong as everyone thinks. Ginny knows he isn't strong. But Ginny also thinks he doesn't love her.

What she doesn't know is that she's the only person on this earth he'd ever love, and he'd never stop loving her. That, his father couldn't control.

Ginny wonders if she'll be okay one day. She watches as the seventh years stand in front of the Great Hall on the last day of school. Her eyes rest on her brother and Hermione and Harry. She feels herself smiling. Her eyes drift to Draco, and her smile drops. He's looking at her, and she feels her body go cold. But she doesn't divert her gaze right away. She holds it for a moment, staring right into his eyes. She feels her blood begin to boil, and she swallows hard.

She doesn't care what anyone else things. She's a fighter. She's strong. She'll get through this. She's a survivor. Ginny won't let Draco ruin her; she won't let him destroy her. She feels her heart ache one last time, before she finally looks away. If he wants to be with Allura, so be it. Ginny was her own person. She wouldn't let a boy get in the way of herself. She was going to get through this. She had to get through this. She would get through this. She wasn't going to give anyone the satisfaction of knowing they broke her.

Draco watches Ginny and he almost runs to her right then. He almost cries out, forgetting about the ring on his finger, he almost yells out that he loves her, that he wants her. But then he feels Allura's arm around him and a fleeting image of his mother dead makes him stop. He watches Ginny look back at him, and his heart breaks. He can tell just by her eyes that she's through with him, that she's moved on. She stares hard at him, and he feels himself crumble. She looks away then, and he realizes that would be the last time he'd ever look at Ginny Weasley again. He wants to cry out to the world, wants to disappear forever. He just wishes Ginny knew he still loved her. He just wishes Ginny knew that if it was up to him, he'd be with her forever. But she doesn't know, and she never will.

The bright sun shines on Ginny as she waits for the train. She sighs, twirling in the sunlight. She made it. Her heart was heavy, but she was done feeling sorry. She was moving on. She was better than that. She stops twirling and sees Draco with Allura, his face turned away from her, looking out to the sky, a wistful expression on his face. She hesitates, wanting to go over to him, but stops. He is just part of the past. She'll always love him, of course, but she accepts the fact that he doesn't love her anymore, that he's moved on. She wants him to know that even though he hurt her, even though he broke her heart, she'd always be there for him because she loved him that much.

She sighs, looking at him for the last time and boarding the train. She knows that things would get better because this was all just another chapter in her life, and it was just time to turn the page.