Title: Blurred lines

A/U: Starting in Chamber of Secrets Making its way through Ginny's years at Hogwarts; Ginny and Draco's POV.

TW: Mentions of abuse and unwanted sexual advances on minors. (Only mentions thought nothing actually takes place)

Rating: M for Violence, Grief and Sexually suggestive content.

Chapter 6. The Snitch Soars.

As far as Ginny could see, this year was shaping up to be an amazing one. No trouble had been caused; well, no trouble past the bat-bogey hex she had cast on Ron. The Quidditch practices held bi-weekly were tough but manageable and she could only see herself getting better as the Quidditch House Cup came closer.

For now though, she was quite content to sit in the Common Room and revel in teenage idleness, having turned thirteen not more than a few months ago. As summer closed out and winter drew nearer and nearer, the amount of clothing needed to be comfortable when she trekked outside steadily increased, until it peaked at a woolly hat, a set of gloves, two jumpers, a scarf, two layers of jogging trousers, and 3 pairs of socks. To most this was over kill but Ginny seemed to feel the cold more than anyone else. Every time she came in from the greenhouses, the layers came off with a swish of the wand and a warming charm was placed wherever they ended up settling. Today it was right back into the Common Room as Herbology was last period on a Friday. The black leather sofa strained a little as Blaise Zabini, and Draco Malfoy, both took their places next to Ginny and copied her, stretching their legs and placing their feet on the coffee table with one ankle over the other.

"So, Weasley, are you going to tell us what wild gene you have that makes you so susceptible to weather below freezing?" Blaise said, giving Ginny a sarcastically inquisitive look.

"Yeah, I'm honestly surprised how you've lived in England for so long with the way you are," Draco continued and copied Blaise's look.

"You two probably just have super powers," Ginny replied, trying to keep the grin off her face. "Or you're both complete weirdos." Both boys flicked an ear each. She cupped her hands over her ears and complained. "Ow, that was mean! all I was saying was that you were strange and we already knew that." Both boys were giggling and apologized most sincerely for their misconduct and promised not to do it again.

"Won't do it again today at least," Blaise muttered quietly. Before he could get another word out, however, Marcus Flint came striding over, his familiar gorilla-like face accentuated by his overbite and crooked teeth, and sat down opposite them. He was looking right at them. Something was wrong, she could tell it in his face.

"Apparently the weather for the match against Gryffindor is set to be god-awful. Meaning I want you to practice impervious charms so that you can make your goggles waterproof. I also want us to change practice tonight to a little later than usual. How does half-past eight tonight sound? Gives you about two hours to get down to the Great Hall to get some food, then get to the pitch." The look on Malfoy's face made it clear that he thought this idea was anything but good; however, he dare not complain to Marcus's face as he was thickset with a face that looked like it's primary method of training was running bludgers into it.

"Half-past sounds great, Captain," Ginny said diplomatically before Blaise or Draco could protest. Satisfied enough with this answer, Marcus rose from his seat and strode off purposefully to find the other members of the team.

"Eight-bloody-thirty," Draco complained. "And we all know how much of a hard-ass Flint is. If we don't achieve what he wants, he'll have us going all night. I've got Defense Against the Dark Arts monday morning just to melt my brain even further." Draco continued to rant for 2 minutes about "bloody Flint," and "damned lessons," until finally Blaise and Ginny decided to make their way down to the Great Hall for an early dinner in hopes that Draco would follow them and finally stop talking.

Fortunately, this plan worked and Draco did indeed shut his mouth. Unfortunately, they ran into Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger. Ginny tried to get Draco to keep walking, but he stopped abruptly to taunt the Seeker of his rival quidditch team.

"Oh, Potter, I hear the weather's going to be incredibly bad. Don't get attacked by a Dementor and faint again," Draco jeered.

Blaise laughed at this comment."What was that, Draco?" Blaise continued his taunt. "Saint Potter got into a spot of bother and fainted?" The emphasis on the last word seemed to set Harry off as he drew his wand.

Unfortunately for him, Professor Snape walked around the corner. "What is this, Potter? Causing trouble as usual. Rules really do seem to be below you, don't they, Potter?"

Harry was set ready to retaliate but Snape had already started talking again, "Ten points from Gryffindor for instigating a potential fight between you and Mr. Zabini. Off you go, then, Potter." Ginny saw Hermione whispering in his ear and tugging at his arm and Snape turned back to the trio of Slytherins, "As for you three, I have given Flint permission to take you out and keep you after hours so you had better train well. I miss the House Cup being in my office." He breathed in, and when his breath reached its peak he spoke in a clipped manor. "Don't let me down." And with that, he strode down the corridor, his black cloak billowing behind him. They did as he asked, immediately making their way directly to the pitch.

Before they even arrived they heard it: a thunder clap that made them shudder. It temporarily set their bones to ice and when they reached the changing rooms, the morale was low. Flint, who had a sadistic smile on his face, was the only enthusiastic one and looked around the already-changed members of the team. "Glad you could make it, suit up and get ready. I hope for your sakes that you practiced those charms. You're gonna need them." They did as they were told, inwardly cursing Marcus Flint and his late-night practice sessions.

Not thirty minutes after they had set out, disaster struck. She could feel it before it even hit her. Whether she was just unlucky or for some other super natural reason, she knew the lightning would hit her. She felt her hair start to aerate and static charged through her like she was a macabre battery. When it struck, it hit the tail end of her broom, making the magically-dry twigs catch fire. After this, all she could remember was a tumbling fall and spinning repeatedly in the air, unable to hold onto her broom. By time she was flung from it, she was still falling. She heard nothing but her name being screamed by someone darting down after her, white blond hair streaking behind him.

"Ginny, Ginny! Oh, Merlin, no!"

And then she hit the ground, and everything went black.

If all went well, Ginny would be back to quidditch soon. If it went badly… Draco pushed those thoughts from his mind as he sat beside her in the Hospital Wing. He had barely left her side since the fall. He didn't want the Weasel or Potter anywhere near her. He couldn't explain to anyone why, maybe he cared too much. Maybe others didn't care enough and that was why he was alone by her side.

The next day as he made his way to the Hospital Wing, he was finally confronted by the ginger-haired prat Ron Weasley flanked by Hermione Granger, the mudblood, and Saint Potter. He was tempted to not say a word and push right past them, but they wouldn't stop pestering him. Not until he told them what happened so he decided to rush through it. With luck, he'd be done with their pointless questions before she woke up. Draco had spent enough nights waking up alone after an accident at least, that's what his Father demanded he call them. Just accidents.

"What do you want, Weasley?" Draco said, only managing a little temper in his voice.

"I want to know what happened to my sister," Ron demanded with his usual hot head and his even more usual tomato-red flush that went all the way up his cheeks to his ears. "And don't even try to lie to me, Malfoy. You've barely left her alone. What have you been doing to her while she's asleep?!"

Draco could not believe this. Ron was not seriously suggesting that he'd do anything like that to Ginny! She was thirteen, for Merlin's sake. She was one of the closest friends he had. Thankfully Potter muttered something in his ear. Hopefully this was something to calm Ron down but it realistically could have been anything. Draco would never know. Whatever it was, it made Ron calm down. His face still flushed red but he wasn't accusing Draco of doing whatever it was to her while she wasn't awake to stop him.

"Whatever you're thinking, you're probably wrong. I've just been making sure you idiots don't break in and freak her out if she woke up. Merlin knows you're the last people she needs right now." Ron tried to cut him off but thankfully Draco had already finished speaking.

"Now you hold it right there, I'm her-" Ron started but Draco butted in with more success.

"Don't you dare say that you need to know because you're her brother, because I don't know what kind of brother you are or what kind of brothers you've had in whatever hole you grew up in, but you've been a right bugger to her recently."

As if the world had suddenly stopped spinning, the moment he had disrespected her home and her family, Ginny had stepped out of the Hospital Wing. She took one look at Draco, the tomato-red Ron, Hermione, and Harry, then stepped back in and shut the door. Draco heard voices too muffled by the doors to be understood , the creak of bed springs, and Madam Pompfrey opening the doors.

"If you four don't go back to your dormitories and leave Ms Weasley in peace, I will strip every house point Slytherin and Gryffindor has. Now go."

They had nothing to do but heed the warning and go their separate ways.

Ginny had been out of the ward for just under a week now but Draco couldn't face her. She hardly even made eye contact with him, and even for quidditch practice when they had to cooperate, she just left him to his own. Blaise had noticed this strange behavior and although she still talked to him, it wasn't as friendly as it used to be. she would just up and walk away if Draco approached while they were talking.

"Listen, mate, you either apologize soon or this whole thing will weigh you down forever." Draco was startled by Blaise's sudden appearance behind him and turned heated.

"Who said she was weighing me down, I hardly said anything about her specifically."

Blaise tutted, jumped athletically over the back of the sofa and sat next to Draco looking at him seriously."I've seen the way you've been looking at her, even at the back of her head which seems to be more and more common,seeing as she's gotten a sudden urge to leave any room you're in." Draco looked away uncomfortably but still had a stubborn expression. Blaise continued. "Listen, no one else understood your boggart on Monday apart from me." Draco feigned innocence and Blaise pushed on, getting impatient. "Come on, Malfoy. The whole room was going dark, thunder, a screaming girl. What else could it be other than the accident?" The word accident made Draco flinch involuntarily but it wasn't enough for Blaise to comment on, since he was so invested in trying to persuade Malfoy. "Not to mention the House Cup."

This was enough to let the worry show on Draco's face. "OK, fine, making up with Ginny would probably help with the Cup. How do you suggest I go about it, smart ass?" Draco quipped inwardly, hoping Blaise did have an idea.

"I'm not sure." Blaise wracked his brains trying to think and only came up with a half answer. "She is very invested in quidditch, especially in winning. If even minutes before the game you can catch her and ask her nicely to forgive you, even just for the match, then it'll be a start." Blaise emphasized nicely like Draco didn't know what it meant to be kind.

"Fine but I only have a month, if that, until the match against Ravenclaw. If I can't sort it out by that time. Then buggered if there's anything else I can do I guess." He bit his thumb nervously. It was now or never.

It was the day of the Ravenclaw versus Slytherin game, and Ginny had tried as hard as possible not to lay eyes on Draco. Things were getting desperate now. If he couldn't get her on his side… What would happen if he couldn't make up with her? She wasn't the type of person to throw a game just because she didn't like a teammate. Sure, she could hold a monster grudge, but that wouldn't change by him apologizing. No, Draco was doing this for himself. To ease his nerves and to ease his mind, because it wasn't just boggarts showing him dark cloudy nights and screaming panicked cries. He had to, if not for this game, then for the final. Also, if he didn't get things sorted he'd have to go to the Quidditch World Cup with Pansy Parkinson and that could not happen. She was a harlot and he was only 15. It had to happen; it was the only way

One week until the final, he had managed to get a few words of good luck to her, which she'd taken with a nod, then continued to act like he didn't exist. Should he be trying harder? Maybe just an apology? The Ravenclaw game went well enough but the Gryffindors destroyed Hufflepuff by 400 points, so in the final they would have to win by at least 320, and that was no easy feat under the best of circumstances. Everyone would have to be at the top of their game, including Draco.

There were three days until the final. The weather was starting to deteriorate just like Marcus Flint had said it would. Clouds grew thicker and thicker by the day while also darkening sinisterly. Thunder could be heard at night, even under the black lake where the boys' dormitories were located. Draco wasn't a drastic person but he was cutting it fine. Something was making him jumpy and Pansy had re-gained her annoying habbit of batting her eyelids and trying to hold Draco. Once Pansy had noticed he looked trouble and had tried to stroke his cheek. Draco had flown three feet in the air and grabbed Pansy's wrist so hard he'd nearly caused a fracture. Ginny had seen this, she must have. For once she'd looked concerned, whether it was for Draco, or for Pansy's wrist just to spite him.

It was the day of the final and the rain was torrential. That morning at breakfast, Dumbledore had announced that dementors would be present around the tournament pitch for safety, as the Gryffindor Common Room had been broken into and ransacked. Every thunderclap made Draco jump and it was clearly affecting Ginny just as much, if not more. Every clap made her drop something or made her piercing blue eyes dilate in fear. There was a chance she'd pull out rather than get struck again. That would mean they'd lose the match and Draco would lose his chance at reconciliation.

There was no consolation. He wasn't even sure why he was so worried, so terrified that she would get hurt again. She could handle herself. It appeared to him that he couldn't handle himself.

All throughout his life, his well being had been cared for. Any stresses had been tended by house-elves, or his mother, or by his aristocratic wealth and family power. Now, devoid of all of these protections, he was breaking down.

He didn't manage any breakfast…

It was ten minutes before the match, which meant strategy time with Marcus Flint. He was pointing at his blackboard with the many moving pictures of flight patterns, maneuvers, and the places it most hurts being belted by a bludger to give the beaters something to get excited about.

The platform muffled the sounds of the crowd but not the sound of the pouring rain and the raging thunder. Ginny had steeled herself remarkably well and, to Draco's surprise, turned to look at him, piercing blue eyes looking right into his soul. She was temporarily able to see right through him, whether she realised it or not

"Draco, I know this is going to be difficult, probably more difficult for you." she said. This was everything but what Draco imagined.

"What… what are you talking about?" Draco spluttered but Ginny silenced him with a glare. It wasn't a hateful one; it was an encouraging one, one that said: 'You can do this and if you don't, I'll kick your ass.'

"Blaise told me about the boggart. I'll be honest, I thought keeping my distance might help. But it seems I was wrong. And, no, it doesn't mean I forgive you. Just try your damned best and don't worry about me, I've been in just as many practices as you." With that she looked away, dead straight ahead.

"Right, what's 320 points to a team like us?" Draco did a remarkable job at keeping the shake out of his voice. This eased his mind a little, the thought that she could at least look at him now. Who knows, he thought, maybe if they flattened Gryffindor, the elation of the after party would even things out and make things like they used to be again.

Draco snorted. Thoughts like that were for optimistic Gryffindors like Potter. Still, he couldn't help but hope.

They stepped out, kicked off into the sky, and formed up after the captains shook hands on the ground of the pitch . The bludgers were released from the box, the snitch's hatch in the trunk was opened, and it soared into the sky and disappeared. The quaffle was launched into the air and the game began.

A/N: Thank you all so much for your continued viewing and reviews of my fic. Another big thank you to my beta Freyja_Luna for putting up with the babble that i can type sometimes and my incredibly poor grammar and spelling.

Thank you to everyone- I'm midway through writing chapter 7 so strap in :))