I Wish I Was A Superhero

Chapter One: Jumping Off The Blood-Traitor Bandwagon

Her eyes snapped open as she jerked awake, chest heaving. Merlin, it was hot! Ginny sat up, pushing the covers off of her bed and waited until her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Holding her wrist up to the light she caught the numbers glowing on her watch face- 2:15 a.m. Shit! She groaned, remembering the dream she'd just wakened from. Voldemort had been found and the final battle begun and all around her, her friends were dropping like flies. Evil laughter filled her ears as Harry, running towards her, screamed, sinking to the ground, falling in slow motion. She ran over to him, only to find his eyes, blank and glassy, staring up into nothing. Shaking herself out of it, she waited for her panicked breathing to subside and dropped her head in hands. Goddamn Harry! He'd been gone for three months now, and the last time she saw him before they left, he'd avoided her like the plague, and as he was walking down the drive with Ron and Hermione, he'd sprinted back, seizing her and kissing her-hard. Just when she was starting to move on without him, gte used to the idea of being without him, all the old feelings bubbled up to the surface and now, memories of his lips, his hands on her, his warmth, wouldn't leave her alone.

She let out a frustrated sigh, flopping back onto her sweat-soaked sheets, trying to get into a more comfortable position, determined to stop thinking about him. Failing miserably, she swung her legs over the bed, and pulling her nightie over her head, changed into a pair of boxers and a tank top. Tucking her wand into the waistband of her shorts she padded down the stairs and into the kitchen, grabbing her new broom from the counter- a Hurricane, to be exact. In competition with the Firebolt, although she knew there was no competition. Comparing the Hurricane to the Firebolt was like trying to compare a dragon egg to that of a chicken. Completely stupid and pointless because the Hurricane was, in her opinion, a much smoother ride, although its brakes weren't as sharp. It had taken her nearly six weeks of scrimping and saving, begging and pleading to be given any job she could find, disembowelling crates of horned toads, baby-sitting bratty little three-year old wizards, watering Mrs Pullman's bezelgonia, which screamed and tried to strangle you every time water touched it…but it all been worth it.

The Hurricane was carved from ash wood, golden ash, and was perfectly streamlined with a deep mahogany finish that darkened to a jet black. The tail had been handcrafted using fine ebony bristles. Embossed on the side in silver cursive was 'Hurricane' and underneath that, etched into the wood was 'Ginevra Weasley'. Grinning to herself she crept out of the kitchen and, listening carefully to make sure her family was asleep, she pushed open the screen door stepped out into the night. Breathing deeply, she scanned the sky, her smile widening. It was the clearest night she'd ever seen, visibility was perfect. Kicking off, she soared into the sky, shooting up like a bullet, until she was so high, so far away from everything, especially Harry. Feeling like a challenge, she flew over Farguld, one of the oldest forests in the area, the treetops underneath her waving slightly in the breeze. She laughed as she built up speed, the wind whistling around her, whipping up her hair. Pushing herself, she flew faster, wildly looping and curling around in the sky, dodging tree branches as she ducked down through the forest. At last, breathing hard, she flew towards a clearing in the orchard the Weasleys owned, lazy circling it on her way down.

As the green expanse came into view, she frowned as she spotted a dark shape on the ground. What the hell? It looked like a bundle of robes, but what on earth were they doing here? None of her family were at home, all were away on Order business and she hadn't been down here in ages. It wasn't until she got closer, she realised that they were a pair of robes-with some-one inside them. Landing hurriedly, her broom trailing after her, she ran over to the shape and gasped as a face came into view. Malfoy! What was he doing here? His face was a swollen mess of cuts, scratches and bruises and, even, what looked suspiciously like a burn on his neck.

For a moment or two, she stood there, trying to work out what to do, while she argued with herself.

'I've gotta help him! He's a mess! Look at him!'

'Will you listen to yourself! The stinking rat WHO KILLED DUMBLEDORE!'

'Technically, he didn't. That was Snape.'

'Uh-huh. But who was the spineless bastard that let the Deatheaters IN?'

'Ok, I KNOW he's a horrible git, but he needs help! He's bleeding all over the place.'

'Mmmhmm, yeah, sure. OF COURSE that's why you're helping him.'

'What are you talking about?'

'I know the way you look at him' a voice teased, sing-songing inside her head. 'And what would be the perfect way to piss off Harry, make him sorry he left you?'

'SHUT-UP! That's disgusting! I'M NOT going sit around here and leave him for dead and I'M NOT going to do anything with MALFOY!'

Suddenly furious with him for showing up in HER backyard, right now with everything going on, she glared down at him and kicked him viciously in the shoulder. Pushing aside the twinge of guilt that settled in her stomach, she crouched next to him, slapping his face to wake him up. Finally, he groaned and the eye that wasn't swollen shut opened a crack.

"Why are you here?" she demanded, glaring at him.

"Oh, fuck…He's dead…I'M dead!" he moaned as he struggled to sit up.

"Who's dead?"

"Melodic…the desert storm…Nagini-" he broke off, and cried out as he collapsed back onto the ground. Looking down, Ginny saw a fresh surge of blood soak his arm, and paled. This was getting worse by the minute!

"Malfoy, stay awake. C'mon, I need to get you back to the house!"

He moaned again, trying feebly to get up, but as his head hit the ground with a dull clunk, his eyes closed and he was still. Ginny sat back, rocking on her heels, an endless stream of frantic babble pouring out of her. "What to do, what to do…I'm not a doctordoIwakeMum?Try and heal him myself!…Oh, Merlin!"

Scrambling to her feet, she raced back to the house, flying through the door and up the stairs, banging on her parents door.

"Mum! Come quick, Malfoy's down by the Grove, he's bleeding everywhere…MUM! Come ON!"

Molly Weasley, bleary eyed and wrapped in a dressing gown, grabbed her daughter's hand, puzzlement creasing her brow.

"Ginny, what's going on? What on earth are you on about? Why would Draco be here?"

"Oh, Mum! There's no time to explain…HURRY UP!"

Dashing back down to the Grove, her Mother hot on her heels, Ginny ran to Malfoy, still lying where she'd left him. As soon as she caught sight of him, Molly immediately went into matron mode and turned to Ginny.

"Get, your father, NOW! Tell him I need a stretcher and a spare bed made up. Boil the kettle and get the rags and bandages out of the cabinet. GO!"

Ginny sped back up to the house, relaying the message to her father, and hurried about, boiling the water and soaking the rags in an anti-bacterial potion. As her mother came through the door, she waved her wand and sent the pot of rags bumping behind her up the stairs. "Ginevra!" she called sharply, "I'll need your help."

Dutifully, Ginny followed behind her as Molly pushed open the door to Charlie's old room and lay Draco on the bed. His skin looked deathly pale against the dark blue sheets and Ginny dug her nails into the palm of her hand. As much as she loathed him, she couldn't stand it if he died. There had been far too much of that already.

With a pointed look from her Mother, Ginny walked round to the other side of the bed and began sponging the cuts on his face. As Molly peeled off his shirt, exposing a raw, gaping wound, Ginny blanched. What kind of a monster had done that?

"Check his legs Ginny. Make sure they're not broken."

Gently, she placed her hands on his legs, pressing down every now and again to make sure the bones were intact as she worked her way up.

"All clear."

Molly breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. One less thing we have to deal with."

Rummaging around in the dresser drawer, she uncapped a dark, unlabelled bottle and spooned some into his mouth. Finishing up the bandages round his middle, she sighed and stepped back, surveying him critically. At last she spoke.

"Ginny, you'll need to stay with him. That potion I gave him can sometimes have very severe side effects, including hallucinations and anxiety attacks. It's very effective in eliminating infection however, and at the moment that's the best I can do. I'll contact the Order in the morning and see what Minerva has to say." She turned to go, and kissed Ginny on the cheek. Pausing by the door, she turned.

"Ginny?"

"Yeah, Mum?"

"You did a very good thing tonight. I'm proud of you."

Flashing her a tired grin, Ginny hunkered down in the chair and yawned. What a night! Looking over at Draco, illuminated by the candle glowing in the corner, she rubbed her eyes, thoroughly muddled and confused. 'What in Merlins name was he doing all the way out here?' She wondered, curiosity itching at her. Yawning again, she stretched and put the question out of her mind, resolving to find out more when he was awake.

The next morning Ginny awoke, glaring sunlight streaming through the window, shining into her eyes. She sat up, glancing over at Malfoy, catching him staring at her unblinking. Colour had returned to his face and he laughed derisively, directing his comment straight at her.

"I see you've finally jumped off the blood traitor band-wagon…"

Note: Bold is Ginny's "bad" voice, normal italics is her "good" voice. Please review and tell me what you think. Flames are appreciated I need something to keep me warm in Winter )