Prologue: Dying on the Inside (part 1)

December 25, 1997

The tears fell down her cheeks as she attempted to wipe them away. Her chest ached from sobs of heartache. No, it couldn’t possibly be heartache, for she had lost her heart after she had just barely given it away. Her mother had always told her to be careful whom she gave her heart to; she should have listened, she should have heeded the advice.

She was a fool, a complete and utter fool. She couldn’t believe how stupid she had been and now, here she was on Christmas day, hopelessly alone, surrounded by family and friends who insisted they knew and loved her. But they didn’t know her. Not anymore.

They didn’t know what had happened during the past four months of her life. They didn’t see how badly she was hurting. They didn’t know. They would never know. She could never tell them, for they would never understand.

Ginny scoffed at how they all thought she still longed for Harry Potter, her brother’s best friend since his very first day at Hogwarts. She knew Harry was beginning to see that she was no longer the same timid little girl he had first met all those years ago. It was only a matter of time until he came to her, giving up his heart to her in exchange for her own. But she didn’t want his, and she would never be able to give him hers.

Slowly she pulled herself up out of bed and into the bathroom. She washed her face, careful to make sure that all signs of her early morning cry were gone. She forced a believable smile onto her face, hoping that the people who awaited her downstairs would still see the innocent girl they had always known. They hadn’t seen through her strong facade yet, though she knew it was only a matter of time.

Taking a deep breath, she turned and grasped the knob of the bathroom door and in the same instance caught a glance of herself in the full-length mirror. She had changed in so many ways since she once stood in front of this mirror as a little girl longing to be a woman of beauty; a woman who men would gladly seek after. She frowned as she looked at the woman she had slowly grown to be. Sure, men looked at her and they wanted her. Sure, they thought she was beautiful. But the truth of the matter was, if they looked into her soul, into the vacant space in her chest that used to house her heart, they would no longer see the sweet little angel whom had once lived there.

Looking into her own eyes once more, she longed to see the light she knew had been there the last time she had looked into this mirror. The light that had been there not but four months ago. The light she had seen before she had left to start her sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And slowly, she closed her eyes, trying in vain to remember what she had felt like at that moment of her life. Trying to remember every bit of that moment and the moments of her life between now and then. When had it all gone so terribly wrong?

Letting out a breath she hadn’t even known she was holding, she knew the answer to that loaded question. The answer couldn’t be penned back to a specific day or time, but to a long series of events. And inevitably, every event led back to him.

Chapter 1: If Ever a Day Was Perfect

Approx. Four Months Earlier
September 1, 1997

Ginny Weasley smiled a wide smile into the full-length mirror as she adjusted the new beige corduroy skirt she had just bought last week. She smiled at her appearance. She had allowed her long ginger hair to grow out during the summer, and it now fell down her back in waves. It seemed as if this past summer she had finally grown into her figure.

She smiled happily at the thought as she adjusted her black halter-top before slipping on a denim jacket. Pulling out an elastic band, she pulled her hair back into a ponytail before slipping out of the bathroom to gather any last minute things she would need for the new school year.

“Ginny! What’s taking you so long? We have to go! Harry and Hermione are meeting us at King’s Cross,” Ron bellowed from downstairs. Though the loud complaint of her taking too long to get ready was meant to get her to hurry up, Ginny merely rolled her eyes as she took one last glance at her reflection in the mirror over the dresser in her bedroom. She smiled at the reflection. This year was going to be different from previous years, she could feel it.

After a few more minutes of checking around the room to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, she grabbed her wand and used it to levitate her bags down the stairs just in time for Ron to call her again. “Listen, Ron, I know you’re just dying to get to the station to drool all over Hermione and spend another year attempting in vain to confess your undying love for her, but I needed to make sure I had everything and that I looked alright. Now, if you’re done pouting over the fact that I just called you on your feelings for one Miss Granger, can we go?”

“Number one, I am not pouting over you calling me on anything because, number two, I do not have feelings for Hermione.” Ron’s face seemed to be slowly growing redder than his hair. Whether it be from anger, embarrassment or frustration, Ginny couldn’t tell. Then again, she didn’t really care.

“Number one, yes, you are because, number two, yes, you do.” Ginny quickly replied and without giving another thought to the matter turned to walk to the fireplace. Her parents had already arranged for them all to be able to floo straight to King’s Cross, so all that was left was to hop in and go.

It seemed, however, that the moment Ginny turned to walk away was the moment that Ron actually took a moment to look at his baby sister. It wasn’t but a few moments after his eyes looked at her outfit that his voice could have been heard from The Burrow clear to Privet Drive. “GINEVRA WEASLEY, WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU WEARING?”

Ginny, however loud her brother was yelling, didn’t even flinch. “Clothes, Ron. I’m wearing clothes.”

“There’s hardly enough fabric to be considered clothing!”

Ginny rolled her eyes as she turned to look at her older brother who, while taller, bigger and stronger than herself, didn’t scare her in the slightest. “I’m wearing a jacket that covers my arms, cleavage on this top is practically non-existent, and my stomach is not showing, what may I ask is uncovered?”

“Put pants or something on, Ginny. We’re not leaving here until you do!”

“You know it’s funny,” Ginny spoke as she tilted her head to the side, as if studying her brother, “I don’t ever remember you magically becoming Arthur or Molly Weasley. So, I’m sorry if I won’t follow your orders as you are not either of my parents. Now, we really are running a tad late.”

It was at that moment that both of her parents seemed to bustle into the room, tears brimming from the corners of Molly Weasley’s eyes. “Oh my! This is the last time we’ll be sending a son off to Hogwarts. My, my, time has just positively flown.” She chose then to pull her son into a death grip hug. “Oh, Ronald, you make your father and I so proud!”

“Funny how you weren’t saying that when he crashed the car into the Whomping Willow,” Ginny murmured under her breath. Neither of her parents had heard her, but if she judged by the glare he was now giving her, Ron had.

“Now, Molly dear, you don’t want to strangle him before he starts his final year. They’re already late enough as it is.” Arthur Weasley smiled to his wife as he touched her shoulder in an effort to comfort her. She always seemed to be emotional this time of the year, especially if one of their children was going into their seventh year.

Sniffling she nodded as she let go of her youngest son and moved instead to give her only daughter a big hug. “Now, Ginny dear, if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to owl.”

Ginny smiled at her mum in an attempt to please her. “I know mum.” She gave each of her parents a quick kiss before moving to the floo. “Now, are you coming with us or are Ron and I on our own from here on?”

“Your mother and I think that you are both capable of getting yourself on the train. Just, go straight there, alright?” Arthur looked at both of his children. Though he was smiling and proud of the both of them, it was clear in his eyes that he meant it as he told them to not take any sudden detours. Each of his children nodded in understanding.

The two parents and two children made their way to the fireplace before they said their last goodbyes. It seemed that all was set for the youngest two of the group to make their way back to school before Ron froze in his spot looking at his sister once more before turning back to his parents. “Wait! You mean, you two are just going to let her leave, looking like… wearing… that?”

Ginny rolled her eyes again as she muttered something sounding like “Honestly, Ron.” Her parents looked at each other quizzically before looking at Ginny and back at their son. Molly was the one to speak as her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t see anything wrong with what she’s wearing? I actually think it’s quite nice that she would dress up for the train ride back to school.”

Ginny had to stifle her laughter as she saw the look on her brother’s face. “But her skirt!”

“What about it, dear?” Molly still seemed confused on the matter as she looked at her daughters skirt that ended somewhere between mid-thigh and her knees.

“You can see her knees!”

It seemed that everyone in the room thought he was joking until he didn’t laugh. No, instead he stared wide-eyed at both his parents. As if he was honestly appalled by what they were allowing their only daughter to leave the house in. “Oh honestly, Ronald!” Molly spoke again. “Did you time travel back to the 1800s this summer and I not know it? Your father and I appreciate you being protective of your sister but really, Ron, this is a bit much, don’t you think?” Molly rolled her eyes at her son.

Ron opened his mouth a few more times before shutting it and walking towards where the floo powder was set out. Picking a fist full out, he called out “King’s Cross” before stepping into the flames.

Ginny merely rolled her eyes again before giving each of her parents one last hug and kiss before following the same actions her brother had taken. It didn’t take her long before she caught up to her brother and his friends who had, over the past two years, become hers as well. She smiled as she hugged Hermione, the sister she had never really had, and congratulated her at seeing the Head Girl badge pinned to her robes.

Quickly they all boarded the train, and found a compartment as they recounted each of their summers. She smiled as she looked around to all in her compartment. Her poor excuse for a brother, to Hermione, then to the famous Harry Potter, to Luna Lovegood, and finally to Neville Longbottom. It seemed that they had somehow formed a bond two years ago, at the end of her fourth year when they had journeyed into the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic.

She sighed as her mind drifted to the one subject they all seemed to avoid. The war. No one seemed to talk about it more than was necessary. It was raging, and they all knew that the final battle would be upon them soon. Ginny knew that Harry had taken up lessons with both Snape and Dumbledore at Grimmauld Place during the past summer after his brief stint on Privet Drive. Yet, it was something that was never once mentioned during their long train ride to the place they called home for the better part of the year.

Allowing her mind to rejoin the conversation her friends seemed to be enjoying, she laughed at another one of the many insane notions Luna had gotten into her head. Letting out another chuckle, she began to recount her brother’s anxiety attack over her choice of outfit for the day. It was good for a laugh and somehow became even more hilarious as Ron’s face once again began to turn a remarkable shade of red.

Ginny smiled. It seemed to be the perfect start to what she was hoping to be a perfect year. She could only hope that it would stay this perfect.

Chapter 2: Muggle Phrases and Troubled Glances

Two weeks had gone by since the start of the new school year. Slowly everyone was becoming accustomed to their class schedules and workloads. Well, all except Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter, but then again Ginny couldn’t remember a time when her brother and his best friend actually had sat down and done all of their own work more than twenty-four hours from the actual due date. She rolled her eyes. She still couldn’t figure out how Ron had made Prefect. It was no surprise when he hadn’t been picked to be Head Boy.

Well, it had been a surprise for him. It still seemed to be a soft spot for Ron, and if you even so much as mentioned the new positions for Head Girl and Boy this year he could be found scoffing and muttering something along the lines of ‘Malfoy? Why in bloody hell would Dumbledore pick Malfoy?’. Of course, Hermione was doing a spectacular job as Head Girl, and upon hearing who had been picked for Head Boy, no one was more relieved than she when Dumbledore had also made the fact known that the Heads would no longer be sharing a dormitory. In fact, their dorms were far apart from one another, hers located near Gryffindor Tower and his near the Slytherin dungeons.

Ginny looked up from her plate, casually observing her fellow students in the Great Hall. Something both looked and felt out of place, though she couldn’t put her finger on what. Scanning the room slowly, she located the abnormality sitting in his usual place in the middle of the Slytherin table, surrounded by his usual cronies. Now, anyone else might say that there was nothing out of place as they glanced in the direction of the blond wizard; however, to Ginny there was something different there. She first found it odd that instead of his usual high-and-mighty posture, he was sitting slightly slumped. Next Ginny noticed, in slight confusion, how as Crabbe slapped his back in an effort to show an agreeable response to whatever Draco Malfoy had just said, he seemed to hold back a grimace before casually threatening his ever-present bodyguard.

“You okay, Gin?” Harry’s voice shook her from her concentrated glance.

“Yeah, but…” She paused, unsure of how to phrase it. “Have any of you noticed how Malfoy has seemed to practically disappear?” Her question caused the trio to look toward the Slytherin table before looking right back at her.

“Uh, Ginny, he’s right there, pretending to own Hogwarts.” Harry replied, all the while wondering why she even cared about the blond ferret.

The truth was, she didn’t. She just happened to have a knack for noticing things out of the ordinary. “And yet, he hasn’t made a single comment to any of us. Don’t you find that a little odd?”

They all seemed to ponder her words a moment. Yes, it was odd, and it usually meant he was planning something. However, even if he was, Hogwarts’ Golden Trio wasn’t going to admit it. With the entire Wizarding world on the cusp of a war - a war that each of them were heavily involved in - they really didn’t have the time or energy to deal with whatever it was Draco Malfoy had up his sleeve.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity but was really only a few seconds, Hermione shrugged before saying, “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

Ginny and Ron both looked confused before Harry explained. “It’s a muggle phrase. It means you shouldn’t take it for granted.”

Ron nodded in understanding. “Maybe Malfoy finally found someone else to torture.”

Ginny simply nodded her head in agreement. “Yeah, maybe.” But as she looked back over to the Slytherin table, she still couldn’t help but feel that something wasn’t right.

* * *

The day seemed to move along at a steady rate. Ginny was actually feeling rather hopeful about this year. So far, all her classes seemed to be causing her no problems at all. She had to admit, after listening to Ron and Harry do nothing but complain over the course work last year, Ginny had been quite a bit nervous. Hermione had told her not to worry, that there was nothing too hard, but somehow, knowing it was Hermione saying the words hadn’t helped her to stop worrying. Hermione, after all, was known for her intelligence, which was one of the many reasons that not a single person had been even a slight bit surprised when she had been made Head Girl. After all, whom else would they have chosen? Pansy Parkinson?

The thought of Pansy being Head Girl made Ginny laugh harder than she thought it would. For some reason, she couldn’t picture Pansy doing anything other than pretending to be more powerful than she really is, torturing first and second years and fawning over Malfoy.

Ginny knew she must look absolutely insane, standing by herself in the middle of the hall as she laughed uncontrollably. In the back of her mind, she knew that it was only a matter of time before someone laughed at her for it. And sure enough, as she heard a familiar voice, she knew what was about to come.

“What’s this? Has the Weaselette truly lost her mind? Or has she met an imaginary friend who tells jokes in the hallway?” Draco Malfoy sneered at her as she managed to sober herself.

“You know, I have got to say Malfoy, you’re losing your touch. Coming out of your mouth I would expect a far better insult than that.” Ginny looked at him and raised an eyebrow. She looked around him as she faked confusion. “Wow, who would have thought it? Your insults have actually begun to stink so much that they have scared your bodyguards away. Or maybe Crabbe and Goyle finally grew brains and figured out that you don’t rule the world after all?”

“You’re hardly in a position to criticize my insults when yours are hardly any better.” His steely gray eyes narrowed at her.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Why would I waste all my best insults on you? You’re hardly worth it. Besides, you make it entirely too easy.” She shook her head before turning and walking away.

Draco stared after her, a single eyebrow raised. He couldn’t help but wonder where the annoying little girl who seemed to be scared of everything that moved had gone to and where this new, feisty firecracker had come from. The summer had done the youngest Weasley some good. His eyes grew wide as he shook his head. What the hell was he thinking?

Though, if he was honest with himself, which was something Draco Malfoy really always tried to be as he did hate lies, Ginny Weasley had seemed to become one hot witch. He could see what pretty much every male in Hogwarts had been talking about. He smirked before thinking to himself, “If only she wasn’t a damn little do-gooder glued to Potter’s side.”

Shaking his head he continued the direction he had been going before he had decided to act on the opportunity to annoy the Weaselette. He didn’t want to be late to Potions, favorite student or not, Snape was still a scary man when interrupted.

* * *

Several hours later, Draco lay on the bed in his room, thankful to have his own dormitory as Head Boy. Another owl had delivered yet another letter from his father. Draco sighed as he thought of the contents of the letter. The instructions were simple, so it seemed. He was to deliver his ‘progress’ in two days' time. Draco rolled his eyes as he muttered, “Can’t wait.”

It was funny, really. When his father had been locked up in Azkaban a little over a year ago, Draco had been sure his father’s oh-so-delightful little reign of terror would be over. He shook his head at the thought. His father was truly a brilliant and powerful man, as he had proven Draco to be entirely wrong. It was only six months ago that Draco had been taught to never underestimate his father; a lesson that Draco was sure to never forget. Yes it may have taken him a year, but Lucius Malfoy had finally managed to sneak out of Azkaban.

Chapter 3: Prelude to a Storm

September 17, 1997

It was well past curfew and, though the silence was deafening to some, Ginny Weasley welcomed it with open arms. She hated to admit it, but as much as she loved her brother and her friends, it was times like these that she craved most. A time when she could just sit and think.

As a little girl, she had never had such an overwhelming desire to be alone for any given amount of time. Instead she had relished living in a house that was always humming with excitement, always crowded. As a little girl, she never needed to have time to just sit by herself and reflect on, well, anything.

That all changed in her first year at Hogwarts. It had taken her a long time to get over what had happened to her that year. It was months before she could learn to forgive herself for all she had done, despite the fact that a young Voldemort had been controlling her actions. She had been used, and it was a feeling she never wanted to have again. But she would be kidding herself if she said that the events in the Chamber of Secrets hadn’t left a mark on her in some way. It had changed her, made her more aware and vigilant. (Though, she supposed that at least Moody would be happy about that.) The experience had made her less trusting and she had ultimately closed herself off from the company of others for a year before she allowed herself to open up, ever so slowly, to Hermione and Harry.

A frown formed on Ginny’s face as she shook her head. She didn’t want to think about her past right now. She had been forgiven for that long ago; she had moved on. Hell, she had even managed to put Lucius Malfoy in Azkaban; something she had longed to do since he had given her that diary all those years ago.

Her eyes drifted to the wall clock that hung above the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. She sighed; it was almost one in the morning. Yawning, she closed her eyes as she rested her head against the cold glass window. She wanted nothing more than to go to sleep right now, but something was gnawing at her and it was causing her to have a severe case of insomnia. It was the second night in a row she had been kept up with it and she was seriously considering dealing with a week’s worth of detentions and waking up Madam Pomfrey for a Sleeping Drought potion.

She let out a quiet groan as she remembered the annoying, not to mention strange, reason for her insomnia. For some reason, not clear to even her, she couldn’t stop thinking about Draco Malfoy. Ever since he approached her in the hall, he seemed to have gone back to his old ways. Though - and this was why she was convinced she was going insane - his insults seemed almost forced. Almost. And then there was the time that Harry had made a comment about Draco’s parents. It seemed that if you mentioned his father he would go quiet, but one word about his mother and you’d have a wand pressed against your throat.

And then, of course, there was the way he was acting in the Great Hall two days ago. It was something that Ginny’s mind was having a ridiculously hard time letting go of. There was just something not right about Draco Malfoy slumping, not to mention his near acknowledgement of some sort of pain. She was positive that no one else would have seen it but she was quite the perceptive one and had caught it without even really trying. He had been in physical pain that day. She had noticed both the slumping and the slightly hidden look of pain appear again later that same day as he took the time to insult her in the hall.

And it was all driving her absolutely batty because as much as she tried to get her mind off of these slightly strange events, she just couldn’t. It was driving her entirely mad to the point of exhaustion due to her lack of sleep. She ran a hand over her face and through her hair as she let out a sigh. She needed to get out of here.

She looked up to the clock once more. It was now 1:02 in the morning. She looked to her cloak that she had tossed haphazardly over a chair in front of the fire when she had come down here not but an hour ago. She had a horrible feeling that if she walked out of this room and into the rest of the castle she would get caught. She thought for a moment before grabbing he cloak, suddenly not caring what the consequences would be. She wasn’t a prisoner and insomnia was not a crime. Besides, if she had to stay locked up in the Gryffindor common room, unable to sleep, she would lose her mind – though with Malfoy consuming all her thoughts she wasn’t entirely convinced she hadn’t already lost it.

Shaking her head, she went to entrance and whispered the password before making her way out into the corridor.

* * *

Her footsteps were soft as she crept around the castle. She actually found it a bit of a rush to be wandering around the castle this late. There was a certain level of danger and threat that hung in the air, knowing full well that if she got caught the consequences could be disastrous. But yet, as Ginny Weasley walked down the halls she knew so well, she didn’t care about getting caught.

She smiled as she realized that for the first time since she was eleven, she felt free. She had no one watching her, waiting for her to become a frightened little girl. No one controlling her every move. No one around to question what she was doing and why. It was rather exhilarating and she had to wonder why she hadn’t done this before.

It wasn’t until she was nearing the Great Hall that something made her freeze. She heard something, though she didn’t know what. Years of secret training with Harry and the remaining members of Dumbledore’s Army had made her quite adept at making her way around without being heard or noticed. So, silently, she moved closer, startled to see the last thing that would have ever come to mind.

Ginny had been expecting to see a Professor, the Headmaster, or, possibly, even a couple that were being carelessly loud after a rendezvous. So as she peered from the shadows at an unidentified someone as they stumbled through the front doors before falling against a wall, she was filled with shock. The person, whomever they were, seemed to be injured badly as they could barely move and used the wall for support.

She watched in a bit of horror as the person seemed to slide down the wall, a gasp of pain coming out of their mouth. She couldn’t stay in the shadows anymore, she needed to know whom this person was, and then she needed to get help. Carefully attempting not to startle whomever it was who was lying almost crumpled on the ground, she moved a few feet closer before a gasp of shock came from her mouth as she stared in complete surprise.

As awful and cruel as it may have been to think it, she couldn’t help thinking to herself for even the shortest moment that it was just her luck she would stumble across him at one o’clock in the morning and in need of serious medical attention. Shaking her head to rid her mind of such a thought, she moved closer to confirm her recognition.

But she really didn’t need anything confirmed. She knew it in her gut. She knew it from the way the light hit the bit of hair that seemed to peek out of the shadows. No, she didn’t really need any sort of confirmation, she already knew it was Draco Malfoy lying there completely helpless.

He must have felt her presence because it was at that moment that he looked up, a deep look of sorrow and agony in his eyes for a minute before it was replaced by an attempt at his usual cold look of loathing. “Come to find me and spread to the whole school that you saw a Malfoy at their weakest?” He had tried to get it out in one breath, sounding no worse for the wear but he had failed miserably. Several small gasps had made their way into his sneering question, though he seemed to ignore them.

Ginny was entirely unsure of what to do. She couldn’t leave him here, she just couldn’t - it wouldn’t be right no matter whom it was. She shook her head before hesitantly responding, “No, actually I-”

He struggled to take another quick and pained breath before snapping at her once again, cutting her off mid-sentence. “Just save it and leave me the hell alone weasel.” He leaned his head against the wall as he tried hard not to wince. She couldn’t see him like this. No one could see him like this.

Her eyes grew wide once more before narrowing at him. “I came to help, but if you don’t want it then fine. Lie here and die, see if I care.” That said, she turned on her heal, knowing in the back of her mind she would be stopping by the Hospital Wing to let Madam Pomfrey know he was down here and needed help.

Draco Malfoy merely rolled his eyes in his typical fashion before starting to push himself up. Another gasp flew through him as tears of pain threatened to spill before he fell back to the cold ground, unable to move. He looked to the side as he could still see Ginny Weasley’s outlined form slowly walking away. Closing his eyes, he did the hardest thing in the world for him to do. He swallowed his pride as he called her back, his voice breaking in his words. “No, wait…”