Chapter IV – It's Unorthodox

Trembling, Ginny grasped Hermione's hand into hers and shut her eyes. Just a few feet away were Ron and Harry, both in the private section of the Infirmary. She didn't understand why Ron was still admitted here, especially after the horrible stunt he played during the game. Purposely hurting her like that sent chills down Ginny's spine – this was her brother after all.

"Chilly in here, isn't it?" croaked a voice.

Ginny's eyes flew open as she stared down at the battered Hermione. Her upper lip was swollen about three sizes, her hair was frizzy and damp with her blood, and the necklace she always wore was missing. "Oh, Gods, Hermione, your mother's necklace is gone!"

Hermione sighed sadly. "Yes, I know. It was the first thing I realized. I asked Luna to try and check the pitch for me, but she hasn't come back yet."

"Do you remember what happened, 'Mione?" Ginny asked, adjusting her comforters.

Hermione's eyes welled up with tears. "Yes, I remember," she answered, turning her head to look out the window. "I was trying so hard to catch the snitch, Ginny, I really was." Her voice cracked, and Ginny could hear the emotions running through Hermione's mind. "I finally spotted it and let my hand out, only to have a bludgers snap it into the other direction. I lost control and for a moment, I thought I was going to die. I looked up to yell for help when I saw Ron." Her chin dropped onto her chest as she sobbed gently. "He-he stared at me with these cold eyes and I felt like I was staring into the cruel eyes of Malfoy. He gave me this face and zoomed at me. I can only remember hitting my head against the walls of the pitch and after that - I thought we were back at home."

Ginny looked up in confusion. "What? Why?"

Lifting her head slowly, Hermione met Ginny's inquiring gaze, her face overwhelmed with scratches and bruises, and replied tenderly, "I opened my eyes and saw Harry."

.x.

Walking back up to Gryffindor tower alone was the hardest thing Ginny had ever done. Leaving Hermione back there, in the dark, didn't better the situation. The week hadn't even ended and here she was, exhausted and homesick. Hermione had promised her the minute she was released, they would scurry over to the library and find the counter-curse. They had only hoped that it wouldn't take them, as they wanted to be home as soon as possible.

Ginny didn't care if this world existed, or if it was just an illusion. All she desired at that very moment was to be back at the real Hogwarts with her friends and family. She didn't want Pansy Parkinson as a best friend, or Gregory Goyle as a boyfriend. She wanted to be the plain, cynical Ginny everyone knew and loathed.

"I guess this means you won't be coming tonight."

Ginny squeaked in surprise and spun around, wand at the ready. Her nose flared at the sight of the disgusting creature. "Excuse me?" she snapped, irritated.

She didn't need this now – not after what had happened today.

"I haven't seen you in three days, Ginny. I'm getting restless," he continued, as if she never spoke.

Ginny growled. "Don't you dare call me that, Malfoy! You have no right to speak to me like that!"

He smirked. "Tense, are we? You and Goyle had a row?"

"That's none of your business!" Ginny retorted, glaring at him. He's not supposed to be here, she told herself. This is Gryffindor halls. Staring at his attire, Ginny wondered to herself why he was walking around dressed like that. He was devoid of his school robes and wearing a simple black jumper and black slacks. "What the hell are you doing here, anyway? Aren't you supposed to be sleeping in that cell of yours?"

He grinned evilly. "That's the problem, Ginny," he stated. "I've been sleeping in that bloody cell for three days all by my lonesome. Now, where have you been?"

For a good few seconds, Ginny found herself perplexed. "What are you babbling about? Of course I wouldn't be in your rooms, you overconfident idiot! Why on earth would I even step foot there!"

He stepped alarmingly closer, backing her up against the wall, just two halls away from her tower. "No one's here, Ginny. There's no need to put on a show," he whispered silkily, his hands on either side of her head.

Ginny's eyes widened and she gripped her wand tighter. It pointed just to the middle of his chest – just above the Slytherin crest necklace he was wearing. "I'm warning you, Malfoy," she said feebly, "You better lay off for I'll-"

"You'll what?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

In one swift second, he grabbed her wand and flung it to the other side of the hall, effectively rendering Ginny both speechless and terrified.

Ginny stared helplessly as her wand rolled into a corner. "Malfoy," she begged, "please let me go."

"Look at me, Ginny," he ordered, his nose on her cheek.

Slowly turning, Ginny stared up into the deep pools of gray that were his eyes. They were nose-to-nose, and Malfoy didn't seem perturbed by it at all. He looked as if he was enjoying this – as if he was planning on enjoying it all night.

Stiffened with fright, Ginny could only watch as he let his hand dip down further, to the hem of her skirt. He fiddled with it for a bit, his fingers occasionally brushing her thighs. Refusing to believe that this felt good, Ginny mumbled, "Please stop."

He ignored her and proceeded with his doing. He hefted up the skirt higher, scaring Ginny even more. What startled her most was that the invasion almost felt familiar – it was as if her body was welcoming whatever Malfoy had to offer.

Her eyes widened, and her breath caught when his hands found her knickers. He rubbed over them in soft, lazy circles, his hands knowing just where and when to touch her.

Ginny quivered, horrified. Her hand shot out and grasped his wrist, stopping all movement. "Don't," she pleaded. "Please don't."

He stared down at her. "You weren't so resisting last Saturday."

Ginny stared at him, stunned. "I-I don't know. I don't know what you're talking about!" she breathed.

He stepped closer and pressed his body onto hers. Ginny inhaled sharply as she felt the obvious bulge of his erection. He panted in her ear, frustrated. "Push me away," he commanded. "Push me away."

Hazy with his intoxicating voice, Ginny made a move to shove him away, until the tent of his pants hit just over her knickers. Her eyes opened, and before she could control it – before she even thought to stop – she moaned.

"Spread your legs," he ordered, unzipping his pants.

Ginny grasped his shoulders and tried to organize herself. She tried to rush past the evident lust and passion, but found herself drowning in it. She couldn't understand what was going on – especially with Malfoy. Only a day ago did he insult her and now he was trying to get into her knickers. He seemed so sure that she would comply – that she had done this once before. The way he said her first name and the way he looked at her irked her. He seemed to know exactly where to touch her and how.

Her thoughts were soon interrupted by the tearing of her knickers. Ginny cried in outrage. "Malfoy, what're you doing!" she shrieked.

He entered her in one, rapid motion that sent her hurdling into the wall. Her screeches transformed into moans of pleasure as he continued to thrust frantically inside of her, his hand gripping violently her bottom. Ginny wrapped her legs around his waist and began moving with his unsteady rhythm. He ripped apart her blouse one-handedly and growled at the sight of her without a bra. His mouth latched onto one of her nipples, and as he pumped in and out of her, he rewarded her with a small nip.

Ginny gritted her teeth and expected some sort of pain in her lower regions, but felt nothing. Everything from that point on was pure bliss – the caresses on the back of her thighs, his right hand in-between her head and the wall, the way his mouth moved over her skin – it felt wonderful.

Soon enough, all the precepts she once followed flew out the door, and she allowed herself to take delight in this – this thing that won't ever happen again once they reached home. Every caveat Ron had ever told her disintegrated as Malfoy pounded into her, clearly reaching his peak.

Ginny let her head fall back into his hand as she felt her body shatter into a million pieces. She writhed in what she could only categorize as pleasure, and felt Malfoy still his hips and jerk viciously into her. She hissed softly, feeling the result of his erection scalding inside of her.

He buried his face in her neck and muttered, "Is Granger alright?"

Ginny pulled away and stared incredulously into his eyes. "What did you say?"

"Granger – that nitwit friend of yours – is she still planning on living?"

Smiling tenderly, Ginny felt her heart swell up into her chest. For the many years she has known Malfoy, not once has he ever showed any concern in anything. She no longer cared if they blatantly had sex in the middle of the corridor, but at the fact that he actually cared what happened to her best friend.

"She'll be just fine," Ginny responded honestly.

Everything silenced for a few minutes as Malfoy stared intently at her. He seemed to be contemplating something, and Ginny found it hard not to move, for he was still inside of her and her legs were still wrapped around his hips.

"I've missed you," he finally said, breaking the momentary pause of stillness.

Suddenly feeling horribly exposed, Ginny gently disentangled herself from him and smoothed down her skirt. "Malfoy," she began, her head down, "I don't usually-"

"If this is about Goyle, I've already given you the solution," he interjected effortlessly.

Her eyes widened at the mention of her boyfriend. "Oh, no," she whispered. She'd completely forgotten about Gregory and his sweet smile. Back at home, he and Malfoy were considered best friends, but, here, apparently, there were nothing more then enemies. What was she doing with Malfoy? Especially knowing that she was already taken? Did she have no morals? She may be living in another dimension, but that gave her no right to trifle with the feelings of others – particularly her boyfriend's.

"We have to stop this," she declared.

"Precisely what I was thinking," he agreed, arranging his clothing. "You'll break it off with that oaf tomorrow morning at breakfast," he ordered airily.

"What!"

"I'm tired of watching you two exchange mediocre snogs. We've talked about this, Gin. I'm not going to continue seeing you if you're marked as his," he explained, his voice oozing with authority.

Ginny looked scandalized. "Do you think you can just wave your hand and expect to do your bidding?"

"I expect you to honor this relationship – yes," he answered.

Ginny sputtered. "This – this relationship!" she screeched. "This isn't a relationship, Malfoy! This is unorthodox fucking in the middle of the halls!"

He pinned her with a murderous glare. "I may enjoy fucking you mercilessly, Ginny, but that doesn't mean I don't benefit from hearing you speak, watching you think, or simply being near you," he sneered.

Ginny shut her eyes.

Overwhelmed.

That's exactly how she felt. Everything was plummeting towards her at top speed and she couldn't even take a moment to breathe. Not being able to confide in Ronald hit her harder than everything else. Hermione lying in that hospital bed, bruised and broken – that was the second worst thing that happened during this mishap. Now, Draco Malfoy was professing some sort of infatuation with her and demanding she end things with her current boyfriend, Gregory Goyle. There wasn't any time for dawdling – chiefly in a world like this.

"I have to go," Ginny decided, closing her blouse with wobbly hands.

He tugged her to him and they began walking in the opposite direction of her dorms. "What – Malfoy, stop! What are you doing?" she protested.

He turned back and smirked at her. "We've got seven hours until your debut at breakfast. I plan to use that time productively."

Ginny whimpered.

.x.

Up in the large tower of the Infirmary, Hermione stared down at her mangled left hand and grimaced at the sight of it. It was heavily bundled into a bandage. Madam Pomfrey informed her that she was missing the main ingredient for the potion that was meant to heal her hand. It'll be in by tomorrow morning, dear, the woman cooed.

For the countless time that day, Hermione forced back another batch of tears. That horrifying gleam in Ron's eyes would be imprinted in her mind forever – even after they get home and into their normal lives. Hermione knew for sure that she would never see him the same again; that she would be afraid to touch someone that had injured her so ferociously.

And then there was Harry. A small smile flitted across her face as she recalled the strength of his arms around her, the expected flash of worry in his eyes when he stared down at her beaten face. A boost of confidence filled her as she pictured the kiss he gave her out of the blue. Not once has she ever picture Harry like – not even for one second. He was her best friend; her savior. He wasn't meant to take the place of Ron – the boy she planned on marrying.

"Hermione?" whispered a timid voice.

Alarmed, Hermione leapt up and gasped.

Pansy immediately situated her back down. "You shouldn't do that, 'Mione! You'll hurt yourself!" she scolded.

"What are you doing here, Parkinson? Visiting hours are already over!" Hermione stated, fearful of being caught.

Pansy sat beside her and smiled. "Luna and Millie were worried about you, so I volunteered to sneak down and see how you were doing. Are you okay?"

Grateful for the sweet gesture, Hermione smiled back. "I'll be just fine. Madam Pomfrey healed most of my injuries and I'll be out by tomorrow afternoon. You can tell Luna and," she paused, "Millie that I'm well."

Pansy looked serious. "Did you get the chance to talk to Grant? I'm so sorry I wasn't back at the dorms before you were asleep. I had to speak to Professor Krum about Ginny's Potions final."

Hermione nearly choked on her own spit. "What – Professor Krum – he – I – what!"

"He's the Potions master here at Hogwarts. Is he not the same professor in your world as well?" Pansy inquired, curious.

Hermione hastily shook her head. "Back at home, he's an international Quidditch player." Her breathing finally slowed. "He's our Potions master? Are you positively sure?"

"He has been for about three years now," she answered, grinning. "He's quite easy on the eyes, isn't he?"

"Yeah – well – we used to date," Hermione mumbled.

Pansy squealed. "You and Professor Krum? You lucky wench! No one's been able to get through the prude bastard ever since his marriage failed! That's the reason why he took the job in the first place. Professor Snape, he's the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, he resigned as the Potions master and Krum took his place."

"Professor Snape? He's the DADA teacher!"

"Of course. He's the most qualified and seeing as he defeated Voldemort when he was just a baby – I mean, who wouldn't hire him?"

Hermione's face twisted into bewilderment. Professor Snape destroyed Voldemort, she thought, well, I'll be damned.

"Hey, Hermione," Pansy said softly.

"Yeah?"

Pansy bit her lip nervously. "When I asked you about Grant, I really wanted to know what was going on with Potter. I followed Grant up the stairs and to you – and, well – when he hurt you like that – I hexed him as he walked back to his towers. I was just going to see you, when I saw Potter running over." Pansy looked up at Hermione, determination in her eyes. "Did you really kiss him, Hermione?"

Hermione stayed quiet.

"Because, if you did, I'd be fine with it. I just want you to be careful. He's a dangerous man, that Harry Potter. His friends aren't trustworthy either. You know that if you need any help whatsoever, we're all here for you, including Gin," Pansy finished, grabbing Hermione's right hand and squeezing. "All you need to do is ask."

"I like you better this way, Pansy," she whispered, using her first name for the first time. "If I could, I'd bring you back with us and switch you with the harlot-who-deserves-a-good-beating."

Pansy laughed. "I'd love it even more if you got to stay," she voiced.

Hermione glanced at the clock. "You should get going, Pansy. It's almost one in the morning. Professors are scanning the corridors at this time," she warned.

Pansy giggled and held up a silvery cloth. "They never catch me, 'Mione. Not when I have my Invisibility Cloak with me."

Hermione chuckled. Oh, yeah, she thought, things are very different around here.

"I'll be back with everyone tomorrow. Sleep tight, Hermione." Pansy squeezed her hand once more and then disappeared underneath the cloak.

When Hermione was sure she was gone, she mumbled, "This can easily be described as unorthodox."

.x.