Broken

Chapter 8: Ironic

She writhes, kicking the blankets from her legs. Her eyes are clenched shut, blood on her lip. She is biting down to keep from screaming.

It is dark, so dark. She is searching for an opening, a beam of light in this oblivion. But there is none. His voice taunts her, his strong arms holding her firmly in place. It will all be over soon, he promises. Don’t you want to be with me, Ginny? This is the only way. Her strength is fading. With the last of her voice, she cries out . . .

“NO! I don’t want to go . . . No . . .” Her eyes shoot open. The room is dark. Panic grips her, but then she becomes aware of a hand resting on her shoulder. She moves closer to the warmth of the other body. It is a welcome change from the cold chamber.

He holds her close to him. He can feel hot tears soaking his shirt. Her skin is ice cold and she is shivering. She closes her eyes as she leans into him. If anyone had told me a week ago that tonight I’d be in a bed with Ginny Weasley, I would have laughed in their face, he thought. And now I don’t want to be anywhere else. Ironic, isn’t it. Soon exhaustion settles over him and he gives in. He falls asleep with his arms still wrapped protectively around her.

                                                                        *

            “Damn it!” he throws the heavy, leather bound book aside. It was of no use to him, just like all the others. He glances down at the large pile of old and worn books standing high beside the table. He thinks of her, her dark eyes shimmering with tears. She feels responsible for what was happening. She thinks she is evil. He has to find this cure. For her. He almost laughs out loud as he realizes that, for possibly the first time in his life, he is working for someone else’s happiness. Not just anyone. A Weasley. He sighs and opens the next book. He rubs his temples to fight off the beginning of a headache. Just one more book. Then I’ll go back.

                                                                        *

She sits alone in the astronomy tower, looking out at the stars. She sighs and rubs her arms in an attempt to keep warm. Draco is in the library, as he has been all day. Searching for the antidote. She had skipped lunch, as she didn’t like the idea of sitting that close to Harry without Draco nearby. She pulls her knees close to her body and closes her eyes, enjoying the feeling of the soft breeze on her skin.

            She nearly jumps when she hears the faint sound of approaching footsteps. Maybe it’s Draco, she thinks hopefully. But the next sound extinguishes that optimism. It’s humming. Draco does not hum. The low, soft sound is coming closer. Ok, calm down. It could be anyone. Stop panicking. The footsteps stop in front of the door. After a moment, the door is pushed open. Her eyes widen as the figure steps into the small room with her.

She stands to face him. His features are like stone. Impassive. His intent stare is unnerving.

“What do you want?” she asks, struggling to keep the fear out of her voice.

He doesn’t answer, stepping closer to her and closing the door behind him. She flattens herself against the wall, closing her eyes. When he reaches her, his thumb brushes across her cheek. His touch is cold. And then he crushes his lips against her own. His mouth is hot, suffocating. He presses himself against her, kissing her fiercely. She tries to push him away, but he is too strong. She is crying now. He pulls his face from hers to look into her eyes. He frowns at the tears steaming down her cheeks. He opens his mouth to speak, and she drives her knee into his stomach. He doubles over, gasping for breath. She stands, frozen, for a moment, before she regains her senses and runs.

            She runs until she reaches a dark corner near the dungeons. She slides down onto the floor and curls into a ball. She is shaking madly. He’s going to find me. There is no way I can get to Draco before he catches me. That’s not Harry. Oh god, what did I do? Tom was right. I am alone. And I deserve it. She sobs softly. It’s only a matter of time. He’s coming for me. What will he do to me? She closes her eyes, absorbed in her thoughts, and waits.

It seems like an eternity before she hears him approaching. First, the soft tapping of his shoes on the stone. Then, the low whisper.

“Ginny?”

His voice is wrong. Too calm. Smooth. The sound of it chills her to the bone. She wants to run, but she knows it will only lead him to her faster. Maybe he won’t find me. But it is at that instant that a pair of forest green eyes meets her ash brown ones.

“I’ve found you.”

She recoils from his outstretched hand.

“Come on, Ginny. Why won’t you give me a chance. He’s not good for you. You know that. Let me take care of you.”

She swallows the bile rising in her throat. This is what she created. She must face it. “No, Harry. No.”

His eyes flash and pure, ice cold terror sweeps through her. He points his wand at her and mutters a spell under his breath. She is thrown backward, her body colliding with the wall. Pain shoots through her. He advances on her.

“Why are you making me do this, Ginny? Just let me have a chance. I’ll make you happy. I promise.”

Gathering all of her strength, she punches him in the nose. Well done, Ginny. Let’s see how much we can tick off the psycho, shall we. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, she tries to put some distance between them. She is a few feet away when she feels a jerk on her ankle. She falls onto her back. In an instant, he is hovering over her. Blood is dripping from his nose, his eyes gleaming maniacally. His knees are on either side of her, his hands on her shoulders.

“You’re not being very nice Ginny.”

Before she can respond, his hands wrap around her throat. She looks up at him pleadingly. He simply frowns down at her and says, “I’m sorry.”

She struggles at first, scratching his arms until they bleed. She tries to cry out, but she cannot speak. Her throat is closing under his grip. Her head is spinning. She expects darkness, but instead there is light. Pure, white light. The pressure of his hands is fading. There is suddenly a blinding flash that explodes into dazzling colors. They swim before her. Beautiful, she thinks. And then she knows no more.