A/N: I keep changing my mind. Don't mind me, I'm slightly erratic.

Disclaimer: At the moment, I seriously own nothing. I have 2 paychecks still at work, and all the good yogurt is gone. Except for the one thing of cheery vanilla that I'm hiding for tomorrow. But still. That doesn't help me right now. I don't work again until thanksgiving! No money! No good yogurt! It's seriously depressing.

Saturday October 11, 1997

Between school, the Howler and Quidditch Ginny and Draco had absolutely no time for anything of personal nature. They did however set the date for the photo-taking session. Ginny walked to Draco's room with her photography supplies and he painting supplies, while she was here, she might as well get both done. He opened the door and watched her set up as he sat on his bed in his dark green pajama bottoms.

Ginny took picture after picture as she directed him around the room until she asked to take the glamour off.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

Draco took a deep breath, sighed, nodded his head, grabbed his wand and muttered the counter charm. He closed his eyes as she widened her own. She walked up to him as he stood motionless waiting for her to make her move.

There was a flicker of a flinch as she touched the mark across his chest where the remains of Harry's Sectumsempra curse will forever mar his skin. She followed the lines with the tips of her first two fingers, until she was distracted by his tattoo, who had decided to come say hello.

Fluttering excitedly until she began to trace it with her finger, the snitch relaxed, and Ginny took note of its color. She was extremely surprised to see the tattoo was pure; its color as it's supposed to be. Ginny looked up to Draco in surprise, he met her eyes, but said nothing, as she expected he would. She knew he would not acknowledge aloud the nature of his tattoo, but his eyes said it all.

A magical tattoo shows itself in its original state only when it completely and utterly trusts those who are viewing it. A magical tattoo in its pure state reflects the person's vulnerability, meaning not only the person is completely comfortable with them, but the tattoo itself is comfortable with them. In the same aspect that a horse only lays down when it feels completely safe, a magical tattoo only show's its true nature when it feels completely safe emotionally and physically in every aspect. She kissed his tattoo and then his scar and continued her inspection.

Noting a welt by his collarbone that continued over his shoulder, Ginny began to trace that as well, and Draco turned away from her, giving her a full view of his back. She took a sharp breath in and traced the deep gashes and welts from where someone, assuredly his father, had whipped him.

Ginny did the only thing she could think of, she wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed him in the center of his back, resting her cheek on the scars. When she felt his body start to tremble she turned to face him. His eyes were closed but, he was not crying, nor would he cry. His loss of self control that forced his body to shake was the closest he would come. It took a moment, but he took a deep breath and said quietly, "you forgot one."

She cocked her head to one side and frowned. He twisted his left arm, so that she could see the faint, but still there, Dark Mark on his forearm. Once again she traced the outline, but only for a second before she pulled his face to hers.

From then on there was no turning back. He picked her up by the waist and she wrapped her legs around his torso. Her hands were on his neck and in his hair, and his were in the process of taking off her shirt. Once he removed her shirt and bra, while continuing their assault on the others lips, he started navigating them towards his bed. Once he laid her on top and looked searchingly at her, silently asking permission. She responded by kissing him soundly.

He lifted her hips and unbuttoned the top of her black skinny jeans and pulling them down her legs. Frowning as it was taking far too long for her pants to slide down her legs considering how short she was, Draco's face turned to a triumphant smirk as he threw them over his shoulder. He looked relaxed, free and completely adorable. Deciding that he was without her lips for far too long he retuned, smiling as they kissed.

He slid down and kissed her left hip where a thin scar was, just a shade below her natural skin color. She didn't know he knew it was there, but he must have noticed it way back when she showed him her tattoo.

"Knives are dangerous," she said not elaborating.

He looked at her and said "So they are." Resting his head on her lower abdomen, she played with his soft hair and he took a deep breath, which she noticed was shaky.

Draco pushed himself off the bed, grabbed his wand, threw up his glamours, and walked out of the room slamming the door behind him.

To say Ginny was pissed was an understatement.