Searching for Souls

Ginny was sitting, once again, on the windowsill of her dormitory. It was 12 o'clock on Saturday afternoon, and she was lost deep in thought.

She was still mesmerised by what had happened last night, the amazing connection she had felt with Draco. She was thinking of him by his first name, although she really didn't know why.

She'd really never given him much thought before- she'd only associated him with anger and humiliation, only ever frowned or glared at him, never given him a chance.

But then, she'd never had any reason to give him a chance.

His father, who had now escaped from Azkaban, had tried to kill her in her first year. He had tried to kill her, Hermione, Harry, Ron, Neville and Luna last year. Lucius Malfoy's sister-in-law had killed Sirius Black, the person who Harry cared for most in the world.

If anything, Ginny had only ever hated Draco.

But what was going on? Why did she suddenly feel warmly towards him?

Because she had seen his pain. She had felt what he had had to endure. She had born witness to his immense suffering, his loneliness, all his problems and pain.

Everything he had kept locked up inside of him for so long. Everything he never told anybody about.

Ginny knew that no human being on the earth should ever have had to endure what Draco had been through.

She wanted to help him, to save him, to show him that not everyone was so awful as the people he had been hurt by. She wanted to show him that he could be appreciated and cared for. She wanted to show him that he could be loved.

Ginny sighed and slid off the windowsill. She headed to her trunk for some clothes- she was still in her nightdress- and began to get dressed very quickly because of the cold.

She put on a plain black t-shirt and threw over it a very loose, baggy bottle green jumper, which had once belonged to Bill and was very worn but still very huge.

Ginny loved it, though. It was a reminder of home and her wonderful family. Everything was so much quieter at Hogwarts now that the twins were gone.

Ginny grabbed a pair of black jeans and put them on, frowning. They were very loose around the waist and just about managed to hang on to her hips. They were flared at the bottom but too long, so that the hems were ragged and worn. They were old too.

Ginny sighed again. Sometimes she would have given anything for new clothes. She picked up an odd pair of socks and pulled them on. She then felt a draft coming through the window, and put on another pair.

She found her shoes under her bed- black, calf-length lace up boots that Ginny loved dearly, but were a complete pain in the arse to put on in the morning, especially when her fingers were tired.

She couldn't find her hairbrush, so she stole Annalise's and dragged it through her tangled hair. She had washed it last night, and it was shining and silky.

Ginny looked around the dormitory. In the bed next to hers, Sapphire was still fast asleep. Ginny grinned and looked down at her watch. It was now 12:30, but she wouldn't have dared to wake Sapphire. She would inevitably have been strangled. Sapphire would probably remain in bed until about 4 o'clock, when she would arise, walk breezily down to the common room and demand why she hadn't been woken earlier.

Annalise was in sharp contrast to Sapphire. She woke up at 6:30 every single morning, did yoga for half an hour then skipped down to the Great Hall to eat a very healthy breakfast of brown toast with no butter, and fat-free yoghurt.

Ginny herself was pretty much in the middle of these two extremes. She would usually wake up at about 7:30 on a weekday, have a shower and get dressed, and be down in the Great Hall for about 8:15. At the weekends she woke at around 10 and stayed in bed until about midday, maybe 1 o'clock.

She often stayed up late writing, or reading. Ginny was very dreamy and fantasised a lot about things. She liked to write songs and poems, sometimes stories, but she would have been mortified if anybody ever found out that she wrote. She didn't have any self-confidence when it came to that sort of thing.

Ginny left the dormitory and glanced around the common room when she came to it. Harry, Hermione and Ron were sitting by the fire, making seemingly forced conversation, all looking utterly miserable. Ginny shut her eyes and tipped her head back, thinking hard. She knew the time had come when she had to say something to them. Otherwise they would just drown in their misery. She took a deep breath and walked over to them. She sat down in an armchair facing Harry. She didn't bother to beat around the bush.

'Harry. Snap out of it. You have to fight you-know-who, but you don't have to do it alone. Look around you! You're surrounded by friends and people who love you. Everyone is here for you, Harry. You're not fighting this war alone. Yes, it will eventually come down to just you and him, but until that time you have to make yourself stronger, mentally as much as physically. I know you're probably going to be really angry with me for saying all this when I can't even imagine what you're going through, especially since you just lost Sirius. But I've had a taster of what you-know-who's like, Harry, he was controlling me and possessing me. I still have nightmares about that, it still scares me, and sometimes I feel paranoid that he's going to do it again. Everyone knows evil when they see it, Harry, and everyone knows deep down in their hearts that it's wrong. Even the Death Eaters, but by then they're so fucked up they can't even think for themselves anymore. All this comes down to is that you can do it, Harry. You're going to fight him and you're going to win. Everything is going to be fine.'

Ginny finished, slightly out of breath, and looked at the floor. She could feel the heat rising in her face and thought she couldn't possibly look at them. She just had no idea what their reactions would be. There was a long and awkward silence for a couple of minutes. Then Harry spoke.

'You're right. I know you are. But it still hurts when you talk about it, you know? I still miss S-...Sirius. I always will. But... thanks for bringing me down to earth a bit. And I am a bit angry with you, although I don't really know why. I think you'd probably better go before we all freak out...'

He looked around at Ron and Hermione as he finished saying this, and Ginny saw, to her horror, that Hermione was staring at her disbelievingly, as if she was purely disgusted that Ginny could say such things, and Ron was staring at her with a look on his face that suggested he could quite happily strangle her. Ginny suddenly felt sick and dizzy at the same time. She jumped out of her seat and ran out of the common room as fast as she could, trying to hold back the tears until they couldn't see.

Ginny ran all the way to the Owlery without looking back or stopping to apologise to all the people she crashed into on her way. When she reached the small round room, she sat down on the only chair; an old creaking wooden thing covered in dried bird droppings, and began to sob. She sat for a long time with her head in her hands, cursing herself for being so stupid, cursing everyone else for not understanding why she'd said it, cursing Harry for not realising he had to accept the truth or it would eat him alive from the inside out. And most of all, Ginny cursed Voldemort, for being so evil, for being so awful, for hating humanity so, for only wanting to cause misery and pain.

Ginny hadn't nearly finished crying yet, when she heard someone enter the room. Hastily she choked back a fresh sob and frantically wiped her eyes on her sleeves. She stood up to leave, and was just about to make a dash for the door and ignore whoever had walked in on her, when that person spoke her name.

'Ginny? Are you alright?'

Ginny stared in amazement at Draco for a second. He was looking at her with real concern, and there was no trace of the mask on his face. He himself looked pretty much how Ginny felt. There were black bags under his eyes, his face was pale and he looked tired and haunted. He was wearing all black, contrasting beautifully with his pale skin and very light hair. Without robes, Ginny noticed his build a lot better- his shoulders were broad, he was tall and strong looking. His sleeves were pulled up to the elbow and Ginny saw the Quidditch-defined muscles tauten and loosen in his forearms. She also noticed that there was a bandage on his left hand.

'I...' she began, but suddenly her words failed her. She felt tears threatening again and used all her might to push them back. She tried again. 'I... I just don't feel well, that's all... I might just go to the hospital wing...' and she made to walk around him, towards the door, which he was blocking. Draco caught her shoulders and held her back, his expression unreadable. For a second Ginny was startled, but then she thought again of Ron, Hermione and Harry, and felt her eyes fill with tears again. She pulled free of Draco and sat down heavily on the chair again.