More Than This

Not at first sight, nor with a dribbed shot,
Love gave the wound, which, while I breathe, will bleed.'
-Philip Sidney-

He was walking back to the Slytherin common room when he was thrown into the wall. Waves of pain shot through his head and back. He opened his eyes to see Potter and the Weasel glaring down at him. Potter's hands were clenched at his sides. Weasley had pushed him, and now had his hand around his throat.

"What did you do to my sister?"

"What are you on about?"

"Ginny came into the common room looking like she'd been crying for hours, and it's because of you," Harry said. His voice was low and threatening.

Draco felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach. He saw her face, her ash brown eyes full of grief. This is what you wanted, a voice inside of him whispered.

"I'm sorry, Potter, but it's not my fault if that little rag doll is having mood swings."

Speaking these words filled him with regret. Not a second had passed before the first punch hit his stomach. Then his nose. Then his jaw, which was still aching from where she had punched him not long before. He didn't fight back. When it ended, he could barely stand. His mouth was filled with the bitter, metallic taste of blood.

"Stay away from Ginny," Potter growled, massaging his knuckles. "You're beneath her."

They turned and disappeared, and he sank to the floor. He laughed as he realized what Potter had just said. His whole body ached. He wiped the blood from his face with the sleeve of his shirt. She was all he could think about. If she was here, the pain would fade. But he had given her up the instant those cruel words had left his mouth. His laughter turned into tears, mingling with the dried blood and sweat. He could not stop them coming, so he gave into them for once in his life.

*

Once Harry and Ron returned to the common room that night, they described their encounter with him.

"He called her a rag doll?" Hermione asked, disbelief in her voice. She gave Ginny a pitying look. It made Ginny want to scream.

"Yeah, and when we hit him, he just took it," Ron said, scowling.

"He didn't try to fight you?"

"No. He just stood there while we bloodied him up."

Ginny felt mixed up as she heard this. Why wouldn't Malfoy fight them? He had wanted to for seven years. Why not take his chance? Besides, he wouldn’t have gotten in trouble for the fight, he hadn’t started it.

Harry took her hand, stroking the base of her thumb. She pulled away from him, but upon seeing the look on his face, she smiled weakly.

"I'm going to go to bed."

He nodded and smiled at her, standing up to hug her.

"G' night, Gin."

*

For the next few days, he saw nothing of her. He ached for her presence, but dared not seek it out. The rumors were flying. News of his encounter with Potter and Weasel was now all over school. Confirmation was written on his face, in his numerous cuts and bruises. Gryffindors were shooting him dirty looks, some snickering when he passed. Normally he would have been furious, but he felt numb.

A week later, he was leaving dinner when he felt someone bump into him. He turned to see who it was and felt his heart jump. It was Ginny. He opened his mouth to say hello, but then he saw the person standing next to her. Potter had his arm around her waist, shooting daggering looks at Draco. The words died in his throat. He felt all the color drain from his face. Ginny looked at him, her expression pained, before she and Potter turned away. He stood frozen to the spot, pain bearing down on him like a tidal wave. In an instant, she was gone.

*

Days passed. They turned into weeks. One cool autumn night, she stood in the Astronomy Tower. Harry's arms were around her waist, his head on her shoulder.

"Gin?"

"Hmm?"

" I love you."

She felt the words sink in. How ironic, she thought, that the one thing she had wanted since she was eleven years old had happened, but she wasn't happy. Instead, she felt as if she wanted to cry. She pulled away from him.

"You don't love me."

He frowned in confusion. "Of course I do."

"No. You don't even know me."

"What are you talking about? I've known you for years."

She groaned, raking a hand through her auburn hair. "I've changed. You can try to ignore it, but that doesn't mean it hasn't happened."

They stood in silence for a few minutes.

"You know, I'm not feeling well. Can we go back?" she said finally. He nodded and gave her his cloak. She walked ahead of him, arriving before he did. She set his cloak on a chair and went up to her dormitory.