A/N: I am going to assume this is AU because I selected bits and pieces from the 6th installment, HBP. The rest of it I choose to ignore (like Drakey-poo being an almost murderer and the relationships and Snape). I am ignoring almost everything then. I hope you do enjoy the bits that I choose to recognize.

This fic will be a series of ficlets dedicated to my love of Reliant K.

SUMMARY: Draco and Ginny need an escape and they find it within each other.

So I've been housing all this doubt

And insecurity and locked inside that house

All the while you hold the key

And I've been dying to get out

And that might be the death of me

And even though there's no way of knowing

Where to go with all this I'm going because

-Reliant K

She never thought the day would come when she would inflict pain upon herself. She always thought she loved herself. She prided herself on her beauty and her intelligence, but here she was, sitting on floor of the Room of Requirement, casting a wide variety of charms on herself, including an Unforgivable. It was rather subduing after about the 6th charm; noticeably gratifying. She enjoyed it quite a bit.

Earlier that day, her long time boyfriend Simon Cornwell, of the Ravenclaw variety, had dumped her for some slut in the Slytherin house. She couldn't believe it. They had been going out since the beginning of 4th year. That was two whole years. Like dog years, two years was forever for a teenager. Yet, he left her for some whore with a short skirt and long legs. She kept telling herself it wasn't worth it to hurt herself. That Simon was the one she should be hurting. Where was her logic? He hurt her, so she hurt herself? In addition to the "breakup", her favorite brother, Bill, had married Fleur "Phlegm" Delacour over the summer. During her 5th year, the most infamous werewolf alive bit Bill. Her entire family and the trio had their minds full focused on the ruddy wedding.

She raised her wand and cast another charm. It was no longer as affective as it had been. It first held a lax sort of stinging sensation. Now it was only pain. Maybe she would switch her form of torture. She wondered how a muggle form off punishment would feel.

Last summer, she had gone to Harry's for a day and saw a movie where a muggle teenager had taken a liking to cutting herself. She seemed to enjoy it. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out the pocketknife. Her father had confiscated it from some witch in Diagon Alley. She had been selling then for a rather high price, claiming it held healing power. She opened the knife and raised it to her pearly white wrist. She slowly and pointedly dragged it across her slim arm. A small bubble of crimson blood gathered. She watched almost in slow motion as the blood slowly built up. It grew until a deep red spurt of blood gushed from her wrist and onto her lap. She examined the blood flowing from the outlet. It felt glorious, Sweet and righteous pain. It was better than she anticipated. The muggle girl in the film had the right idea. She reveled in the feeling a few moments longer. Before she felt a change. . .

A new sensation filled the room. Her body immediately tensed in response. Something or someone was here with her. She held completely still, hoping against hope that it wouldn't spot her. She knew it would; she was in the center of the room.

"Weasley, what the hell you think you're doing?" an icy voice called from behind her; Malfoy. She knew that bloody voice anywhere. She whipped around to glare menacingly at him. He stood in the room, his lean frame resting against the doorway He looked different than any other time she had seen him. His blonde hair and sexy gray eye were still intact. But something was different, something about his mouth. He was without smirk. That was strange. She had never seen him devoid of smirk.

"How did you get in here, Malfoy?" She slurred. The lack of blood was starting to take its toll and she had to take extra precaution to keep her sense intact.

"I walked." he said "and don't answer my question with a question. I asked you what you were doing. I expect an answer." He knew better than that. He wasn't going to get an answer out of her.

"I don't have to tell you anything, Malfoy. How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to know that you're trying to kill yourself." He quit leaning on the doorpost and walked towards her. He squatted on the floor beside her and looked deep into her hard blue eyes. They weren't like that last year. Not before this week had her eyes hardened. They had always been so full of laughter, so vibrant, so radiant. She'd always looked like an angel to him, even if she was a Weasley. For the past seven years of his life, he had watched her from afar, hoping, wishing and praying that the feelings he held for her would past. For a time, he had thought those feelings had disappeared, but Now starring into her eyes, Watching her life slowly but steadily leave her body, he felt those feelings come back to the surface. He held her gaze in a silent staring match. Ginny was the first to look away. He pulled out his wand and began to tap her wrist. She pulled away. "No Malfoy. I want it." She said with a grunt of pain. "I want it. It's mine. I made this pain. I want to keep it until the end."

"Ginny, you can't do this." He said softly. She was stunned. He had called her by her name. Not Weasley. Not Weaslette. Not anything, but her name. The simple gesture was enough to warm her heart. Never had he said he name.

"Why not?" She asked, "no one loves me anyway."

"If I tell you something promise not to tell anyone?"

"I thought you didn't like when people answer questions with question."

"No I don't like when you answer my questions with a question. But will you promise not to tell anyone?"

"Sure." She said with a shrug, "Who am I going to tell? I'm going to die tonight anyway." He opened his mouth to retort.

"But" she said cutting him off, "only if you promise you won't heal my cuts when I'm not looking." She said it with a groan. He knew she was hurting and he wanted to fix it. He nodded his consent anyway.

"Ginny, I would kill for what you have. You have parents who love you. Who treat you like a person instead of a house-elf? Brothers, you have six brothers. Do you have any idea what its like to be an only child? You have friends, real friends, friends who are your friends not because of money, sex, or your father's status. You have the best life and you don't even know it. I would kill to be a Weasley." All of his life he had carried that burden around with him. Afraid to tell someone for fear that it would reach his father. No one knew how much he had craved family, until now. All his life, he saw the love that the blood-traitors, as his father so casually referred to the as, bestowed upon their children. They weren't rich but they were happy and healthy. They were a prime example that money wasn't everything.

"There is nothing good about my life. My parents don't know I exist because there are so many of us. They spend so much bloody time doting about the war and the Order; they don't know I am alive. My brothers are mad. They are insanely overprotective. Except my favorite brother, Bill, who is now a werewolf. And I wish I had enough money to buy friends. I have nothing. I am nothing. I can't take this. I just need to get away." She finished her speech with a short raspy sob

"Ginny, I'll make you a deal." He said cupping her chin and forcing her to look him in the eyes, "Let me heal your wounds. Once a week, every week, until the end of this year, we meet in this room. Then you wouldn't have anyone. You would have me. I'd be your escape."

"How would I know this isn't a joke?" She said clutching her wrist. "Just your attempt at a very unhumorous joke."

"Look, I never liked your lot," he said referring to the Weasleys and the Dream Team, "Except for you. You were always special to me. Whether it was because you were unattainable or because you were sexy-as-hell. Either way, I like you and I'd hate to see you end your life because you were lonely. Besides I bet you don't know what charm would heal those pretty little wrists of yours."

"Oh Draco," she said, "Wish I could take you up on that offer but it's too late." With that her lithe framed swayed and collapsed.

"Ginny! No!" He roared and caught her before her back hit the floor.

? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?

Draco healed her wrist and gently held her in his arms. He didn't know what to do. He quickly made a list in his head of whom he could call. He couldn't take her to Pomfrey; she would ask what had happened. He couldn't ask for help from the head of houses, they would dock points and call both of their parents. He couldn't tell the Dream Team, her brother would kill him. And he couldn't tell his friends for obvious reasons. The only person left was himself.

"Enervate" Ginny eyes shot open as though she had been electrically charged.

"Draco," she whispered, "You promised."

"I know but I couldn't watch you die. I'd miss you too much." She smiled at him.

"Is the offer still on the table for an escape?"

"Of course it is."

"Lovely. I'll take it."