Sacrilege

PROLOGUE

"Kyrie eleison. Christe eleison. Kyrie eleison."

The young man knelt on the hard, cold floor, his body occupying the majority of the small room. He continued his fervent chanting, rocking slightly back and forth. Sporadically, the sheen of his silver blonde hair would reflect the golden glow of the small candle, briefly illuminating the room.

He continued to recite his mantra over and over for several minutes. He suddenly threw his hands up in frustration and the small candle fell to the floor.

He jumped up and screamed in despair.

"My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?"

He then crumpled into a heap on the floor, hoarse sobs coming forth from his throat, and blood seeping from the fresh wounds of his palms, head, torso and feet.

CHAPTER ONE

"Ron! Listen to me! I really think that there's something wrong with him!"

"'Mione, honestly, I don't really give a damn if anything is bloody wrong with him! It's Malfoy, for god's sake!"

Hermione sighed, mentally smacking her hard-headed boyfriend.

"Oi! Harry! Ginny!" Ron suddenly called, hoping to distract his girlfriend.

Just the opposite.

"Ginny, I've been meaning to ask you for a while now; does something seem wrong with Malfoy lately? I mean, you're really very observant, and you have Advanced Healing with him. And what do you think, Harry?"

The Boy Who Lived shrugged uncomfortably, noting the murderous expression on his best friend's face.

Ginny, however, thought for a moment, then responded, "Well...now that you mention it...besides one incident, he hasn't bothered me at all since the Christmas hols. Plus, in Advanced Healing, I've never once heard him speak. And, at meals, when he actually shows up, he's always late and leaves early, and eats by himself. Jesus," she concluded rather thoughtfully, "you're right."

Hermione added, "In Care of Magical Creatures, he doesn't talk to Crabbe and Goyle, and he doesn't make fun of Hagrid. Plus, he hasn't called me 'Mudblood' in three and a half weeks. I'm worried about him."

At this, Ron turned to her, his mouth slightly agape.

"Hermione, do you actually mean to tell me that that bastard hasn't who's been calling you vile names for the past seven years hasn't said anything to you in almost a month, and you're worried about him?! Are you mad, woman?!"

Hermione cast him an amused smile, Ginny nodded in agreement with her friend, and Ron shook his head before grabbing Harry's arm and grumbling, "Mental. Let's go, Harry."

"Um...right," Harry said, glancing back at the girls and shrugging his shoulders as Ron pulled him away muttering, "Women. Worried about Malfoy. Hmph."

Ginny shot a glare at him before turning back to her surrogate sister.

"Anyway, 'Mione, I think that you're right. What do you think we should do about it?"

Hermione frowned, thinking.

"I honestly don't know. I mean, it is Malfoy that we're talking about here..."

Ginny thought back to the last time she had seen the boy in question.

She was sitting in the library, writing a Transfiguration essay, and paused her scratching quill to dig through her ancient bag for 'Being an Animagus' by Ima Fishdeep Atheart to no avail.

"Shit. Musta left it in the dorm," she muttered, getting up and beginning to search for the book amid the crowded library shelves.

As she looked, she mumbled to herself, lamenting leaving the book in the dorm room, waiting until the night before the essay is due to write it, and needing a book while the librarian was at dinner and unable to find the volume. So intent was she on locating the paperback that she didn't see Draco Malfoy until she walked right into him. He jumped and spun around, obviously taken by surprise.

'He should have heard me coming,' she thought, surprised as he looked at her with wild eyes.

"Uh...Sorry, Malfoy?" she said, somewhat awkwardly, and he just looked at her as though he couldn't see her. He stood there, eyes wide, and Ginny couldn't help but let her eyes wander over his sinewy frame. When her eyes finally rested on his face once more, she was blushing, and fully expected a sneer or a smirk, but his face was surprisingly devoid of emotion.

She took in his hair, normally glossy and near-perfect, now lank and matted, and his usually milky-skin was now a sallow, ashen tone. His gray eyes were dull and hard, completely impassive and lackluster.

"Malfoy, are you alright?" she asked uncertainly, waving her hand in front of his face.

Frowning, she began to bring her hand down again, and his eyes suddenly sparked to life. He grabbed her wrist tightly before she could react and hissed quietly, "What do you want?"

His cold gray eyes boring into her warm brown ones, she looked in shock at the boy who had been nearly comatose only moments ago, and he tightened his grip.

"Answer me!" he growled, and she winced in pain.

Attempting to wrench her arm free of his grasp, she responded furiously, "Let go of me, Malfoy! I was trying to apologize for bumping into you!"

She pulled harder and shrieked again, "Let. Go. Of. Me. Now!"

He smirked.

"And if I don't want to?" he asked, releasing her bruised wrist anyway, and then retreating slowly to the corner of the bookshelf.

He reached the end and broke the eye contact for a moment to allow his gaze to roam over her body once.

"Lookin' good, Red," he said, grinning suggestively as his tongue darted out to moisten his lips, before winking and disappearing around the turn.

"Yeah, 'Mione, you're right. There's definitely something wrong with that boy lately. I mean, the last time I saw him, he hit on me," she said in a would-be-casual voice, and Hermione shot her a concerned look.

"Gin, why shouldn't he hit on you? I mean, just because he's a Malfoy doesn't mean that he's not allowed to have taste."

Ginny smiled gratefully at her, and Hermione continued, "Ginny, you're beautiful, smart, funny, and athletic. Anyone would be lucky to know you, and any man would be lucky to have you."

Ginny laughed.

"Well, thanks, Hermione, that certainly helps my ego, but that's not what I meant. He checked me out

(and I liked his eyes on me)

"and said, 'Lookin' good, Red.'

(he looked better)

"And that wasn't so bad - any other guy and I'd be thrilled. But then he smirked and winked, like we shared some sort of

(wonderful)

"dirty little secret together or something. I left immediately. I felt

(like someone appreciated me)

like I'd never be clean again. He's just so

(alluring)

revolting!"

Ginny shuddered then, and Hermione, worried, asked, "Are you alright?"

The red-head shook her head violently, trying to rid herself of the traitorous thoughts. Then, realizing what it must look like to Hermione, she stopped and sent the girl a sheepish smile.

"'Mione, I've actually got a bit of a...uh, a headache. Can we talk about this tomorrow? Thanks, you're the best!" Ginny said, and took off across the courtyard, leaving Hermione staring after her.

"Ginny, I hope you don't mind, but I'm afraid that, for my safety, I'll have to leave you now."

Ginny quirked an eyebrow at her good friend, Harry Potter.

"Gin, have you seen the looks that Seamus, Dean, Neville, Colin, and every other boy in this school have been giving me?"

"Oh. Right. Well, I'll see you later, then, Harry," Ginny said, and wandered off towards the library. As she walked, she thought about what Harry had said. According to her roommates, Isabelle, Kristen, and Jenna, Ginny was one of the most sought after girls at Hogwarts.

"Second only to Blaise Zabini, really!" Isabelle had told her earnestly a few weeks ago, referring to the beautiful seventh-year Slytherin. She had exotic good looks, with long, dark hair, wide, violet eyes, nicely tanned skin, and a body like a Barbie Doll. Rumored to be a bisexual, she had apparently swapped spit (and maybe some other choice bodily fluids) with Seamus Finnigan, the sandy-haired Adonis, Padma Patil, an outspoken lesbian feminist, Professor Glenn Sheeley, the young and gorgeous DADA teacher from the previous year, Fleur Delacour, the beautiful French Tri-Wizard contestant from three years ago, and Draco Malfoy, the sexy Slytherin seeker.

Ginny doubted that any man would ever want her as much as they would Blaise - and even if they did, would anyone in their right mind be willing to deal with her over-protective brother Ron, just to go out with her? Besides, with girls like Blaise around - not to mention the Patil twins, Lavender Brown, Susan Bones, Luna Lovegood, Pansy Parkinson, Hannah Abbot, Mandy Brocklehurst, Lisa Turpin, Tracey Davis, and Emma Dobbs - who would want plain old Ginny Weasley?

Of course, there had been Michael Corner, Dean Thomas, Colin Creevey, and even a few quick snogs behind the broom shed with none other than Harry Potter, but there was one thing that all of them lacked - experience. Ginny wanted someone who knew where, when, and how to touch her properly - she hadn't found him yet. At the current time, there wasn't even anyone in the school that Ginny fancied at all.

"Hey, Ginny."

Ginny stifled a groan, berating herself for letting him catch her off guard.

"What do you want now, Smith?" she asked wearily. Zacharias Smith, second cousin to Draco Mafloy, and wanna-be bad boy of the Hufflepuff House, would not leave her alone. Ever since the D.A. two years ago, he seemed to think that he was god's gift to women, Ginny Weasley in particular.

He gave her what he clearly thought was a seductive smile and said, "Isn't that obvious?"

Ginny fought down the urge to laugh at the ridiculous look on his face and cracked, "Yeah, unless, of course, that's your wand in your pocket."

Obviously aware of what she meant, he looked down, coloring furiously.

"Why you little bitch!" he shouted, drawing his wand and stepping towards her almost menacingly.

She snorted with amusement, reaching into her own pockets. Her merriment turned into dismay and her laughter halted abruptly as her pockets turned out completely empty. She paled considerably as she clearly saw herself removing the wand and placing it on her bedside table before heading down to dinner.

Her freckles jumped out from a milky-white face as she realized that Smith could really do whatever he wanted to her - he was bigger and strong than she was, he had a wand, and just about everyone would be at dinner.

Smith grinned maliciously.

"I didn't want it to be like this, Ginny. I wanted you to come to me willingly."

He shoved her painfully against the wall in the darkened corridor and she squealed in agony as her head connected with the solid wall.

"You stupid cunt. No one's going to come by to save your pretty little neck. I'm gonna fuck you - I'm gonna fuck you so hard. And maybe, if you're good, I won't kill you," he snarled, then pressed his body against hers and thrust his lips upon hers. He plunged his tongue into her protesting mouth, and she yelped.

He drew back, lust written unmistakably in his eyes.

"You liked that, didn't you, you little whore. Throwing yourself at Potter and everyone else in this god forsaken place. What about me? Wasn't good enough for you, you slut?!" he yelled, and her eyes widened in fear before he attacked her mouth again.

"Now, Smith, that's no way to treat a lady."

A fist came flying out of nowhere and Smith flew into the wall. Upon impact, he crumpled onto the floor and lie there unmoving.

Ginny shut her eyes tightly, willing herself to wake up from the terrible nightmare.

"Are you alright, Weasley?"

She opened her eyes, hesitantly taking in the scene. Zacharias Smith, her would-be murderer, out cold on the floor, and Draco Malfoy, standing in front of her, hair messy as it had been recently, skin pallid, and looking

(sexy as hell)

a little concerned.

"Weasley?" he asked again, his voice sounding somewhat softer.

Ginny blinked, and nodded slowly.

"I...I think so. He just...came at me, all of a sudden. He...he said he was going to kill me," she said slightly hysterically, tears welling up suddenly in her eyes, and Draco frowned.

"Figures," he began, "that that little fuck would try to pull a stunt like that. I may be a bastard, but even I wouldn't do something like that."

Ginny blinked again in confusion. Here she was, talking almost pleasantly with Draco Malfoy, the same Draco Malfoy who made fun of her and her friends and family at any, no, scratch that, every chance he got.

She faltered as she pulled herself away from the wall, and reached out for something to steady herself with.

Finding his arm, she leaned against him for a moment. Draco Malfoy or not, he had just saved her life.

"Thanks," She said quietly, not looking at him, and he just nodded.

"Can you walk?" he asked brusquely and in response she let go of him and took a few halting steps. When she turned around to

(Thank him again? Ask for his help? Look at him again?)

respond, all she saw was his retreating figure.

As if he sensed her eyes on him, he called, "Remember, Weasley. Wizard's debt."