Moonlit Grounds

Chapter 8

Too bad it's a Sunday, Draco thought. Much to his own disappointment, he did have work to do. Getting out of bed, Draco neatly folded the scarf and placed it under his pillow. He didn't want to draw any more attention to it.

Crabbe and Goyle were finally stumbling out of their beds, still sleepy-eyed. The usual looks of confusion on their faces were intensified by their realization that they had slept well into the afternoon.

Parchment, quills and notes in hand, Draco settled down at a table in the common room. His first assignment was an essay for Double Potions on the 'Transformation Process Produced by Polyjuice Potion'. He got all the notes arranged in his regular study patterns, but just couldn't concentrate. Images of Ginny floated through his mind. He kept seeing her fiery hair, and then he remembered how it felt. He couldn't take sitting down, so he stood up and paced about the room. He couldn't take pacing, so he lay down on the leather couch. He couldn't take lying down, so he left the common room.

He was running away from something. But what? Was it the trapped feeling that Sunday always brought most students? Was it his looming visit to Lucius? Was it Ginny? No, he thought, that's the last thing I want to do. Then, he saw it. He couldn't do anything because of her. She was driving him crazy. He just wanted to be with her, yet he knew it wasn't possible. Blaise had pointed that out to him. He was trying to escape his feelings about Ginny, but no matter where he went, they'd follow.

*

Ginny jerked awake, shivering. Her body ached all over. She had to shut her eyes again, willing them to focus. When she slowly opened her eyes again, she found herself in the bathroom. The water surrounding her was ice cold. Grabbing the sides of the tub to lift herself out, she felt a pain on her wrist. She didn't bother to look; she knew what they were.

Once she had dried herself off, she wore her robe back out to her bed. Trying to stifle her tears, she reached for the ever-present dreamless sleep draught sitting on her nightstand. The warm sheets were inviting. She allowed herself to cry once she had shut the curtains around her bed. Light was still able to penetrate the curtains though. She looked her fresh bruises over, not remembering whence they came, but having a pretty good idea.

She grabbed her wrists quickly and cried out, "You can't have me Tom! See these fucking cuts? I made them! They're mine, Tom! You can't have me!"

Her shouts filled the empty room with threat. She couldn't take losing the battle.

Ginny's muffled cries soon became non-existent, as sleep fell heavily on her.

*

Blaise was strolling the grounds nonchalantly, when he came across a group of sixth-year girls. Curiosity got the best of him as he followed closely behind, hoping to hear one of them talking about a late night tryst with a certain Slytherin.

"You know, I really do believe that she's been permanently scarred. I mean, how couldn't she?" Parvati Patil was whispering. Draco? Permanently scarring? No, wrong guy.

Just as he was turning away, Lavendar Brown shared some interesting news of her own.

"If You-Know-Who came to me? Bloody hell, I'd have killed myself!"

"Maybe she has tried. One of the fifth-years that shares her room says she's always crying. Real quiet like," put in Hannah Abbot. The girls all exchanged meaningful glances after that statement.

Blaise headed back to the castle, grinning. It was nice to know that at least the diary had left some remaining effects on the youngest Weasel. Even though it was before his time at Hogwart's, he had heard all about the great example the Malfoys would be.

Speaking of Malfoys...

*

Draco's path on the grounds led him straight to Blaise. He definitely saw a hint of mischief forming in Blaise's eyes.

"I just heard a bunch of wenches talking about a famous occurrence that happened four years ago. It made me all nostalgic," Blasie said, smirking. While Draco's smirk tended to be calculating and sarcastic, Blaise's smirk was very boyish and playful.

"Four years ago? You're too young to remember anything important," Draco said, brushing past him.

"Ah, but the stories! Something about a diary? About a second-year pureblood girl? Something like the Dark Lord came back as his 16-year-old self? Sound familiar?" Blaise was having trouble concealing his excitement.

"What's going on? What do you have planned?"

"Well, these girls were talking about the young Weasel," Blaise started out with his usual zeal, but couldn't hide his enthusiasm. "She's still all torn up about it, right? So I figure, we haven't had any real fun lately, what with the Ministry wising up to us and the Golden Trio being treated like gods. But hey, we're forgetting what's been there all along! And just when she thought it was safe! It'd be so easy. All we'd have to do is give her blank journals, stick some rooster feathers in her room, and splash some red paint around- and BOOM! She's a raving maniac! And who does she have to thank? Certainly, the famous Harry Potter! He was too busy having his photo taken with some first-years to even notice poor little Weasel! And her brother too! He wouldn't do anything, not without his Potter!" Blasie waited for Draco's reaction, while trying to catch his breath.

Draco looked contemptuously at the younger boy, and then smirked. "A few points for creativity, but overall, I wouldn't say it's your best work."

Blaise looked a little downcast, but still managed a smirk. "Well, I thought I'd run it by you. You know, just in case."

Draco couldn't get away from Blaise fast enough. Ginny was hurting still. Damn his father! That diary was the cause of all her problems. He felt like he should have known. Tom was back? How could that be? All Draco knew as he flew up the stairs was that Ginny was hurting, and he couldn't bear to think of her in pain.