Chapter 7 – Vanish

Three days later, Draco had slammed Blaise into the wall of the Slytherin common room, making sure to crush part of his face into the granite. Blaise struggled to grasp his wand when Draco took his hand and slowly, oh so slowly, broke it. Blaise's screams rang out through the room, and Draco was certain that they could be heard as far as the Great Hall. "No," he whispered with malice, "you will not save yourself this time, Zabini."

Blaise had managed to turn himself over and glare at Draco. "You're mad, Malfoy," he said.

"Maybe, but at least I didn't rape a defenseless girl."

"She was asking for it!" Blaise shouted, his face grim. "You should have heard that mouth, oh, I knew I could make her scream my name." His words were rewarded with a punch to his cheek.

"But you knew she wouldn't sleep with you, so you decided to force her to do it."

"She was asking for it…" Another hit to his cheek – blood dripping from his mouth as he coughed and choked.

"No one asks to get raped, Zabini." Draco's eyes were cold as he stared at the monster before him. "You're just as bad as the Dark Lord."

"I d-don't kill people for fun," Blaise said, spitting some blood from his mouth.

"Don't," Draco hissed, his fingers tightening around the boy's throat.

"Don't what – mention your father? How he killed your mother…" Blaise watched Draco's hands leave him and he stepped back; his eyes were glassy as he looked at him, his hands trembling very badly. Draco felt the bile rise in his throat as he leaned down and threw up all over the floor. He gasped, and as he cleaned up the mess, he lifted his head, the tears streaming down his face. "Ah," Blaise sneered. "So the great Draco Malfoy is human after all…"

Draco's face twitched and his expression turned careless as he raised his wand and shouted, "Sectumsempra!" Blaise's shirt ripped open and blood ran down his chest and face and he crumbled to the floor, his eyes rolling back into his head.

Draco promptly exited the common room, unarmed.

Ginny was sitting out by the lake that afternoon working on an essay for Potions when a shadow loomed over her. She ignored it at first, thinking it might be Harry or Ron and continued working on her paper. When she heard a thump behind her and felt a weight against her back, she looked down at her waist, horrified to see a pair of bloody arms encircling her, and an obviously injured voice croak, "Ginny…"

She turned to see Draco's ashen face staring at her. She held him tightly, he was trembling and worse off, she could faintly hear him sobbing as he laid his head on her lap. "It's all right," she whispered, not needing to know any of the details right now. "It's going to be okay." She felt his hair brush back and forth against her jeans as he shook his head. "Yes, it will," she insisted.

"He…I hurt him…" Draco whispered.

"You did what?" Ginny's eyes widened. She had forgotten about their agreement. "Oh Draco, you shouldn't have…"

"I told you I would," he said in a tired voice. "A Malfoy always keeps his word."

Ginny shook her head. "No, I mean, you didn't have to hurt him anymore. I'd basically forgotten the entire situation."

Draco lifted his head, his eyes soft. "Gryffindor's shouldn't be dishonest, Ginny."

"This coming from a Slytherin," Ginny smiled softly.

He sat up and stared at her, his eyes hazy, and she noticed the cut on his cheek. She touched it softly and he winced, hissing in pain, his eyes squeezed shut. "Don't…" he sighed.

And that was the last time either of them spoke until later.

Draco's dorm reminded Ginny very much of her own private quarters at his home; therefore, she was comfortable that night as she lay in his arms, staring at the ceiling. That was what they spent most of their time doing since the weirdness that had happened at the manor, and they suited them both just fine. Draco was tracing invisible lines on her bare shoulder when she spoke. "Do you want to talk about it now?"

"No."

Ginny sighed and snuggled closer to him, letting her nails run along his bare chest. She liked that part of him. "If I did something…" she began.

"You didn't, Weasley, trust me."

"It's Ginny…"

"Ginny." He said softly.

"That's right," she nodded. "So, out with it, what's with your going back to my nickname?" She sat up and stared at him, the strap to her tank top falling off her shoulder, and she watched him eye it carefully, his fingers twitching.

"You want to know why?" he snapped, glaring at her. "It's because I'm afraid of what's happening, and calling you Weasley again is the only thing that will make me forget to call you Ginny, and forget that with you, I can be happy."

"You don't want to be happy with me, Malfoy?" she hissed.

"I want things the way they used to be, Weasley," he snarled.

Ginny fell very quiet suddenly. "So," she muttered, "I'll leave then."

"What?" He said, cupping her cheek. "No, I don't want you to do that."

She jerked away from him. "I don't understand what you want from me."

Draco looked at her and before he knew it she had gathered her things and was standing at his door, her hand on the knob, her eyes challenging. "I want you…" he said honestly. He stood and closed the gap between them, cradling her face in his hands. "It's complicated, you know that."

Ginny stared at him, her eyes tense, and she let out a slow breath. "It's not that complicated."

"You were raped, Ginny," he said and he watched her flinch. "It's not a hard thing to forget."

"Thank you for that reminder," she scowled. "I just want to move on from that and I thought that maybe I could do it with you."