Love, and Other Things That Hurt

Chapter Ten

When Ginny reached the common room at lunchtime, she was surprised to find it in some degree of chaos.

"What's going on?" she asked Dennis, who was nearest as she pushed her way through the portrait hole against the crowd of people milling around, all talking animatedly.

"I don't know," he said, turning wide eyes upon her. "I think something happened to your brother."

At this, Ginny immediately elbowed her way through the throng. "Excuse me," she said quickly as she hit quite a few people in the stomach. "I'm sorry, excuse me."

"Gin! There you are!" Harlow grabbed her arm and yanked her over away from the chattering mass and over to the hearth. Before Ginny could ask questions, she saw Ron sprawled across the floor. Harry and Linnéa were standing over him. Hermione was kneeling beside him, her face stark white, and her fingernails in her mouth. As Ginny took a step closer, her heartbeats speeding up in panic, she saw that Ron had a very strange expression frozen on his face.

"What happened?" Ginny asked, hurrying forward and peering at her brother.

"It was all my fault!" Hermione wailed. "I just -"

"I think you hit him with an overenthusiastic Cheering Charm," Linnéa mused to Hermione, examining Ron closely. "And some sort of partial paralysis jinx. He was just talking a moment ago."

"Ron!" Harlow said authoritatively, prodding him in the chest. "Earth to Ronald!"

"He's not moving!" Hermione said faintly as people began clearing away, obviously losing interest at the lack of seriousness of the situation. "Shouldn't we get him to the hospital wing?"

"Ginny," Ron slurred from the corner of his mouth, his face slowly sliding into a blissful expression, much like that of a person who has had their memory modified. "Ginny. I'm . . . on the floor."

"Very astute of you, brother dear," Ginny said, patting him on the shoulder. She looked at Hermione. "What did you curse him for, anyway?"

Harlow let out a snicker. Hermione glanced at her sideways, looking highly embarrassed.

"He, um," she began, turning very pink under her bushy brown bangs. "He . . . asked me out."

Harlow burst out laughing. Linnéa joined in, looking slightly sheepish. Ginny merely looked from Hermione to Ron. "Oh," she said slowly. "And you decided that partially paralyzing him and making him exceptionally happy at the same time was a good way to respond?"

"Ha ha ha," Hermione said, looking extremely upset. "I didn't mean to! It's just . . . it was just instinctual, I guess."

"Those are dangerous instincts," Harlow pointed out, her laughter turning into hiccups. "What if you had used a severing jinx and directed it at his genitals?"

"Harlow, this is not funny!" Hermione said, sounding nearly hysterical. "What should we do?"

"Well, Madam Pomfrey can't do anything about it," Linnéa said matter-of-factly, leaning back. "A similar thing happened to a girl in Hufflepuff in our third year. We just have to wait for it to wear off."

"Couldn't you have just said no?" Harry said hesitantly to Hermione. "Wasn't the hexing a little extreme?"

"I -" Hermione looked both overwhelmed and embarrassed. "I - I wasn't going to say no!"

"Really?" Harlow said, perking up and glancing pointedly at Linnéa and Ginny as if to say "I told you so!".

"Wow, 'Mi," Ginny said, both surprised and pleased. "Really? I mean - it's about time!"

Hermione smiled guiltily. "I know," she said, looking down at Ron and giving a small sigh. "I guess we'll see if the offer still stands when he wakes up."

"Could you give us a rundown of what actually happened?" Harlow asked brightly.

"No," Hermione said mulishly.

"Oh, it all happened fairly quickly," Linnéa supplied helpfully. He told her he had something to tell her, screwed up his courage, and asked her to go to Hogsmeade with him weekend after next, she turned white with shock and before we all knew it, her wand emitted some purple light and he keeled over."

"How romantic," said Ginny while Harlow emitted peals of laughter. "That's going to be one awkward first date."

It took until nearly the end of lunchtime for Ron to come to. When he did, he looked warily at Hermione, rubbing his head.

"Too fast?" he inquired wryly, and Hermione grinned sheepishly.

"I would love to go to Hogsmeade with you, Ronald Weasley," she said, and to everyone's surprised, she walked right up to him and kissed him. Ron reciprocated enthusiastically, and Ginny made a big show of turning away in distaste, when in reality she couldn't keep the smile from her face.

"It's been a good couple of days for love," Harlow remarked as they headed down the spiral staircase for Defense Against the Dark Arts. "Maybe I'm next."

"You?" Ginny asked, glancing over at her. "Who are you into?"

Harlow shrugged, a twinkle in her eye. "Nobody in particular," she said casually. "I guess we'll just have to see."

When Ginny entered the DADA classroom, she found Colin sitting in his usually spot, right beside hers. Tentatively, she sat down next to him.

"Hi, Ginny," he said, looking at her. "H - how are you?"

"Fine, thanks," Ginny said, smiling in some surprise. "Back to your usual self, I see?"

Colin shrugged, looking somewhat miserable. "I guess so," he said, and that was all he would say for the rest of the double period.

When the bell rang an hour and a half later, Ginny packed away her things and was just heading towards the door with Harlow when Colin caught up with her.

"We need to talk," he said in an unusually solemn voice.

Harlow raised an eyebrow at Ginny, but Ginny motioned for her to go.

"See you at dinner," she said, and Harlow grimaced before disappearing out the door.

"Over here," Colin said, dragging her down the opposing corridor and down a small wooden staircase. "I don't want to be overheard."

"Alright," Ginny said, warily.

When Colin finally seemed to be satisfied with the security of the location he had chosen, a small niche under a wide rectangular window in a narrow corridor, he turned to Ginny with such a serious look on his face that she was sure that someone must have died.

"Ginny," he said solemnly, his blue-eyed gaze unfaltering. "I love you."

Whatever Ginny had been expecting, it wasn't that. "Oh, Colin," she said, trying hard to suppress both incredulous laughter and tears of exasperation. "What are you talking about?"

He took a deep breath. "I've been meaning to tell you for a long time," he said, his voice somber. "The words have been with me for so long. I just needed my voice to align with them."

"Colin, that is very sweet," Ginny said, and she meant it; despite the fact that this wasn't exactly an ideal situation for her to be in, she was both touched and very flattered. "And I love you too, but I have a feeling that you mean it in a different way than I do."

Colin's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Ginny sighed, wondering how best to approach this. She had been so tactless lately, and for some reason, this struck her as one of those situations that required diplomacy above anything else. "I care about you very much as a friend," she told him, smiling and placing a hand on his shoulder. "You're a wonderful person, and I know you'll always be there for me, just as I always am for you. But Colin . . . the feelings I have for you, however strong, are very platonic."

Colin seemed to deliberate this for a moment. "You . . . love me?" he asked cautiously.

"Very much," Ginny told him gently. "You're one of my best friends."

There was a moment's pause. Then Colin heaved a weary sigh and leaned against the stone wall, burying his face in his hands, and began sniffling.

"Colin, please don't cry," Ginny pleaded, hurrying forward and shaking his shoulders. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"No wonder you don't like me," Colin sobbed, mopping at his cheeks and looking up at Ginny with streaming eyes. "I'm just a big crybaby, just like Kevin said."

"You are not, and even if you were, that would have nothing to do with it," Ginny said angrily, pulling a tissue out of the pocket of her robes and wiping his eyes with it.

"Girls don't like boys who cry," Colin mumbled, blowing his noise with a loud honk on the tissue.

"What?" Ginny said. "Who on earth told you that?"

Colin sniffed. "D-Draco Malfoy."

Somehow, Ginny wasn't a bit surprised. "You listen to me," she said with renewed vigor, thinking of Neville and what he had done to finally win Linnea over. How could she have been so stupid before? Neville had had it right all along, and she, Ginny, who was in a sex-based relationship that she kept concealed from the world, had somehow acquired the delusion that she was in any position to give out relationship advice. "Do you know what girls like, Colin? They like boys who don't try to pretend to be someone they're not. They like authenticity, not fake fronts put on for their benefit. They like honesty."

Colin blinked. "But Malfoy said-"

"I don't care what he said," Ginny interrupted ferociously. "Colin, I'm telling you the truth. There's only one thing you can do if you want to be happy, and that's to be yourself and love fiercely. Your identity and your heart will get you everywhere."

Colin gave a tremulous smile. "I guess you and I, we - we just weren't meant to be, were we?"

Ginny smiled back, squeezing his arm. "The right girl is waiting for you, I promise. But she won't keep waiting forever."

Ginny leaned in a kissed Colin gently on the lips. When she drew away, he looked both stunned and ecstatic.

"I knew it," he said smugly after a few moments when the shock had worn off, making Ginny raise her eyebrows.

"Knew what she asked?"

Colin beamed. "That Ginny Weasley would be my first kiss."

Ginny laughed and Colin hugged her tightly.

"You're a great friend, Gin," he said against her shoulder. He drew back. "I'll see you later?"

"See you, Colin," Ginny said with a grin.

As she made her way down to the Potions dungeon a few minutes later, Ginny's mind was buzzing. Everyone's world was being thrown into tumult.

"Ginny?"

She looked up. It was Annie Fortescue, a first year Gryffindor, hurrying towards her down the hall.

"Sorry," Annie said, her blonde curls bouncing as she lurched to a halt in front of Ginny, her brown eyes wide. "But Madam Pomfrey needs to see you. She said not to worry about missing your next class."

Ginny hesitated. "Right now?" she asked weakly. She really wasn't interested in being jabbed in the stomach by the matron's wand and being asked probing questions about her menstrual cycle. She would even prefer dealing with Snape for an entire lesson.

"Right now," Annie confirmed, apologetically.

Ginny sighed. "Thanks, Annie."

As the little girl hurried back down the corridor, Ginny reluctantly changed her course and started up the stairs towards the hospital wing.

It was probably nothing.

-

"So I'm standing there, right? And she's all, 'who do you think you are?' And I'm like -"

Pansy knows. Pansy knows. Pansy knows.

" - know who my father is? And I'm just all, 'bitch, please!' So here I am being blackmailed, and -"

Pansy knows. She knows. She knows, but . . . fuck, how could she know?

" - so I said, okay, whatever, if you're not going to put out, at least give me a snog for my troubles. I mean, she practically strips for me and presents herself to me on a platter, and then she has the nerve to withdraw the invitation! So I go for the verbal shot, and at the word 'fat', her face just went purple and I knew I had won that -"

We were careful. We were always so careful . . .

"Draco? Hello? Earth calling Draco?"

"We were careful," Draco muttered against his hands. "We were careful . . ."

Blaise leaned his head on his hand, surveying Draco impatiently. "What's wrong with you?" Blaise demanded of him, looking irritated and bewildered. The two boys were outside on the sprawling grounds beside the lake for their double free period, and although Blaise had been rambling contentedly for the past half an hour about an obstructed tryst with some trashy fourth year Draco didn't know or care about, Draco hadn't said a word since before lunch.

Draco kept his hands over his face, continuing to feign deafness.

"Have you been listening to me?" Blaise asked in a tone that made it clear that he didn't require an answer.

Draco shook his head anyway.

"Come on, man," Blaise said bracingly, seizing Draco's shoulder and shaking him. "Snap out of it. What's going on?"

Draco dropped his hands and looked at Blaise with an expression similar to anguish on his face. "Pansy," he managed.

Blaise raised his eyebrow. "What about her?"

"She - she knows," Draco croaked.

There was a moment's pause while Blaise comprehended this information. His mouth dropped open. "She found out about - ?" he began in a loud hiss, but Draco clamped his hand over his mouth and looked around wildly.

"Sorry," Blaise muttered as Draco released him, lowering his voice. "But she . . . blimey, how did she know?"

"Fuck if I have any idea!" Draco said. "And God only knows how long she's known for! She wrote the letter to my father, and she called me out on it today."

"C'mon, Draco, don't panic," Blaise said, waving his hand airily. "Why would she go public with this, anyway? Nobody cares that you're banging Weasley."

"How astute of you," Draco snarled at him. "I'm sure Pansy can see absolutely no benefits in spilling the news to whomever she wants at any time."

Blaise fell silent for a moment. "What are you going to do?"

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but just then, an all-too familiar voice rang out from behind them, calling his name.

"Well, speak of the malicious skank," Blaise said loudly as Pansy came into view, wearing a smug expression on her pug-like face. She calmly turned her gaze onto Blaise as she heard his comment.

"Say what you like, Zabini," she said coolly, perching a hand daintily on her hip. "But I'd be careful who you're rude to if I were you."

"Can we help you with something?" Blaise said, extremely rudely.

"You can't," Pansy shot back. "I just thought perhaps Draco fancied a little chat with me, that's all."

Blaise and Draco immediately exchanged looks.

"Right," Blaise mumbled, springing to his feet and grabbing his Transfiguration book. "I'll just . . . I'll wait for you in the Entrance Hall, Draco."

As soon as he was out of earshot, Pansy spun around to face Draco, her eyes alight with malice. "You're looking a little flushed," she said in a voice of mock-concern. "Are you feeling alright? Guilty conscience, perhaps?"

Draco had to clench his fists at his sides to prevent himself from delving into his robes for his wand and cursing the haughty bitch into oblivion. "Not to worry," he said in an equally artificially carefree tone. "I had an erection before you came over here and since you've arrived, the blood is fleeing the premises at top speed."

"Clever," Pansy said, her eyes hardening a little despite her fixed, cold smile. "Tell me, Draco, do you really think it's wise to make such feeble jokes when I hold your life in my hands?"

"Feeble or not, I was dead serious," Draco said icily. "And what the fuck are you talking about? You don't hold anything in your hands besides Nott's dick, and that's a recent acquisition."

"You know that I know what you've been up to," Pansy said through gritted teeth, clearly having difficulty staying calm. "Aren't you worried that I'll spill your secret?"

"Not particularly," Draco lied in a level, cool voice. "Because I think you're bluffing, Parkinson."

Pansy crossed her arms. "Oh, you do, do you?"

"Yeah."

"And are you willing to take that risk?"

Draco smiled. "Who have I been sleeping with, Pansy?" he asked, his voice low and taunting. "If you can tell me, I'll even make a public appearance when you reveal it to the school."

He was gambling, he knew, but he had to take the chance. Either Pansy knew, in which case he was fucked anyway, or she didn't, and perhaps calling her out on it would make her retreat. In any case, he thought she looked slightly unsettled as he goaded her.

"Why should I share that with you?" she asked finally, an edge to her voice.

"You shouldn't," Draco responded. "Because you don't know. You're the one who wrote that letter to my father -"

On cue, Pansy shifted her weight uncomfortably, her face losing a fraction of its self-satisfaction.

"- but you didn't tell him who I was sneaking off to see every night, did you?"

Pansy sneered. "So what? Maybe I'm withholding that until the opportune moment."

"Bullshit," Draco said sharply. "You're just an interfering bitch with nothing else to do except skulk around and turn to blackmail in order to counter some jealous resentment you've been harboring ever since the first time I made it clear that I don't want you."

Pansy's face was growing very red. Draco felt mingled satisfaction and relief well up inside of him. She didn't know who it was. She didn't know it was Ginny.

"So what if I don't know?" Pansy demanded, color still rising furiously to her face. "I can find out without any problem. You'd better watch your step from here on in, Draco Malfoy. I have two months to find out what cheap little whore you're shagging and then you'll regret this."

"I wish you luck," Draco said coldly. "Now get out of my face."

He waited until she treaded heatedly away across the grounds before headed briskly into the Great Hall where Blaise was waiting.

"What was that about?" Blaise asked, trying to keep up with Draco's vast strides across the Entrance Hall. "Did she threaten you? Does she -"

"She doesn't know," Draco threw over his shoulder in a low voice. "She was bluffing. She did write the letter, though. Fuck, it's only a matter of time . . ."

"Where are we going?" Blaise demanded as he attempted to follow Draco, whose strides had quickened to running, up the spiral staircase.

"To find her," Draco responded edgily, dodging out of the way of a few stray students wandering the corridors who stared as he sprinted by, Blaise on his heels.

"Who?" Blaise panted.

Draco stopped on an empty staircase he had just discovered after a sudden turn and leaned his hand against the wall. "Ginny."

Blaise gaped at him. "Weasley? But why -"

Draco gave him an impatient stare. "Stop asking questions," he said shortly. "Are you coming or not?"

He began climbing the staircase with quick steps and Blaise followed.

"Do you - do you know where she is?" Blaise asked tentatively as they emerged into the Charms corridor. "How are you gonna find her?"

Little though he wanted to admit it, this thought had not yet occurred to Draco. His steps faltered momentarily, and just as he slowed to a halt and was wondering how exactly he was going to find Ginny, somebody emerged from the Charms classroom and began walking quickly in the opposite direction from where Draco and Blaise were standing. Draco couldn't see her face, but there was no mistaking that bushy mane of brown hair. Inexplicably, he felt a huge wave of relief. If anyone could help him, it would be her.

"Granger!"

Hermione Granger stopped and looked round to see who was calling her. When she saw Draco hurrying towards her, followed by Blaise, her lips pursed.

"Don't say anything," Draco interrupted her as she opened her mouth to speak. "I know you're not my biggest fan, and to be honest, I've never exactly yearned to be best pals with you either."

Granger's mouth twitched as though she was trying not to smile. "So what do you want?" she asked mildly, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

Draco's jaw clenched involuntarily. "A . . . favor."

Granger's expression immediately changed as her face split into a wide grin. To his annoyance, Draco could tell that she was thrilled to be in the power position.

"Oh, don't get all self-important," he snapped. "I just need to know where Weasley is."

Granger's eyes sparkled maliciously. "Which one?"

Draco scowled. "Don't play stupid, Granger."

"Yeah," Blaise chimed in. "You know which one."

Granger shrugged delicately. "Shall I assume you mean Ron, then?" she asked innocently. "You two have a great deal more in common than you and Ginny do; both seventh years, both boys . . . he's in the Charms classroom." She nodded back to the room she had just left. "Shall I go get him for you?"

"Enough," Draco growled. He leaned into her very slightly and said through gritted teeth, "you know I mean Ginny."

Granger smiled. "She's in Potions," she said. "Everything alright, Malfoy?"

Draco was slightly taken aback. "Everything's fine," he muttered. "C'mon, Zabini."

Both boys started towards the staircase they had just emerged from.

"Malfoy?"

Draco turned edgily back to Granger.

She was grinning at him again. "You're welcome."

Draco felt his face sliding involuntarily into a smirk despite his impatience. "Let's go," he said to Blaise, but just before they disappeared back into the staircase, he nodded over his shoulder to Granger. She nodded back.

"What now?" Blaise huffed as they made their way arduously down towards the dungeons. "Are you just going to waltz into the dungeon and pull her out for a little chat?"

Draco, who still hadn't exactly decided on a plan, didn't respond. "Hurry up," he merely said as they emerged into the vacant Entrance Hall. "The bell's going to -"

"Mr. Malfoy! Mr. Zabini!"

Both boys halted and turned to see Professor McGonagall striding towards them.

"What, may I ask, are you doing?" she asked sharply, her spectacles flashing ominously. "Why are you two not in class?"

"We've got a free period, Professor," Blaise mumbled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"And why are you not in your House common room or else outside enjoying the sunshine?" McGonagall asked stridently. "Unless they've changed the rules without my knowledge, students are not permitted to aimlessly wander the corridors during free periods. Now pick a destination and stay there."

"We -" Blaise began, looking nervously at Draco, "we were just going down to the Potions dungeon to -"

Draco elbowed him hard in the side and Blaise stopped talking immediately.

"Outside, now," McGonagall said, ushering them towards the doors leading out of the Entrance Hall. "Go on, now, out."

They had no choice but to heed her and to traipse outside into the blinding midday sunlight.

"Now what?" Blaise said grumpily, collapsing under a tall beech tree and looking bad-tempered. "All that running for nothing."

"I'll tell her tonight," Draco said, dropping down beside him and running a hand through his hair. "And whatever needs to happen regarding Pansy, we'll deal with it tomorrow."

"And remember, mate," Blaise added brightly as they watched the Giant Squid waving its long tentacles out of the crystal clear lake. "Only a month left at this place, and we're out for good."

Draco felt a little jolt in his chest. "Yeah," he said in a monotone. "It's great."

He hadn't thought about that yet. One month, and he would be giving Ginny up forever. One month, and there would be no more chance meetings in empty corridors, no more secrets, no more lies . . . no more Ginny.

"You OK, Draco?" Blaise asked some time later, looking inquiringly at him. "You're very quiet."

Draco turned on his side.

"Sod off, Zabini," he muttered irritably, draping an arm over his eyes and plunging his mind's eye into darkness.

-

The hospital wing was quiet when Ginny knocked and pushed the door open. None of the beds were occupied, and all were made neatly with a single white pillow, crisp white sheets and a thin blue afghan folded tidily at the end. Late afternoon sunlight was streaming in through the gossamer curtains on the far window and the sun had already begun its sliding descent behind the distant mountains behind Hogsmeade. Ginny blinked her eyes against the blinding luminosity as she took a seat in a vacant chair, waiting for Madam Pomfrey, and just as she had begun to wonder what was taking so long, the office door to her left swung open, but instead of Madam Pomfrey, a student walked out.

"Oh, hi," the girl said, spotting Ginny and looking slightly alarmed. "You scared me. I thought I was the only one in here."

"Sorry," Ginny said, smiling a little uneasily. "Um . . . you're Teresa - Teresa Frobisher, right?"

"Vicky's sister," Teresa acknowledged unenthusiastically, lifting and lowering one shoulder. "That's me."

"Right," Ginny said, trying to maintain her smile despite the distinct lack of friendliness from the other girl. "So, er . . . what are you doing here?"

Teresa heaved a great sigh and dropped heavily into the seat beside Ginny. "Too much of a beauty potion," she said gloomily, shaking her head. "Madam Pomfrey was furious. I've been in here nearly all morning and I have to take all sorts of medicines for the next few weeks until the symptoms die down."

"Oh," Ginny said, nodding sympathetically. Teresa was a stocky girl with stringy dishwater blonde hair, pale grey eyes and blotchy reddened skin, and, although she felt horrible thinking it, even just to herself, she couldn't see that the potion had had much effect. "What were the side effects?"

"Oh, you know," Teresa said morosely, sounding more and more like Moaning Myrtle with every word. "My lips keep swelling, my cheeks become enflamed, my nose shrinks a half inch every hour or so, and my breasts were the size of watermelons at 9 AM this morning."

"Oh dear," Ginny said in astonishment.

"And my eyelashes were two feet long only a couple of minutes ago," Teresa informed her seriously. "Couldn't even open my eyes."

"Well, that all sounds like a dreadful bother," Ginny said hesitantly. "Why on earth were you overdosing on a beauty potion?"

Teresa gave her a withering look. "Ginny, isn't it?" she said coolly, looking her up and down.

Ginny nodded.

"Well, I know it must be hard for someone who looks as you do to understand," Teresa said acidly, folding her hands on her knees. "But girls who look like I do don't often get a lot of attention from boys."

Ginny opened her mouth to speak, but Teresa interrupted her.

"I know you're going to just contradict me, but I don't need your pity," she said unequivocally. "The point is, I fancy a boy who would never look twice at me the way I am now, so I . . . I suppose I got a bit desperate."

Her face fell slightly, and Ginny could see the vulnerability behind the dignity. "I just took a spoonful extra," Teresa said mournfully. "And it all went wrong. Now I look more awful than ever, all because I wanted to be beautiful so that he would want me."

Ginny felt a pang. When she looked at Teresa and listened to her, she saw more than just her. Neville was there too, and Colin, and Ginny herself, and even Alyssa Paradis and every other person who ever felt like they didn't belong. Every single person who felt they weren't worthy of the person or thing they coveted wanted a potion that promised to make them deserving. Why wouldn't they? If there was a guaranteed way to become someone else, anyone else, even for just a little while, who wouldn't take it? Who wouldn't take a risk in desperation and hope and pray that this, finally, would make them what they needed to be?

"I'm not the most qualified person in the world to be giving advice like this to," Ginny said softly to Teresa putting a hand on her shoulder. "But trust me - I know exactly how you feel."

Teresa looked at her petulantly. "How could you possible know? You're perfect."

Ginny's stab of annoyance at that was countered by the understanding she felt regardless. "Trust me," she insisted. "I'm as lost as you are, Teresa."

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey emerged out of her office, shutting the door behind her. "Here you are, Miss Frobisher," she said briskly, delivering a paper bag of small potion bottles onto Teresa's lap. "Each of them three times a day, and come see me if the symptoms worsen."

"Thanks," Teresa said, getting to her feet. She glanced back at Ginny before she left the hospital wing. "Good luck," she mumbled in a low voice before disappearing around the door and closing it with a snap.

Ginny looked up at Madam Pomfrey, who was looking at her piercingly.

"Thank you for coming, Miss Weasley," she said in a stiff voice. "Please come have a seat in my office."

Feeling slightly confused, Ginny took a seat in the cushy armchair in the cramped space of the office while Madam Pomfrey flipped restlessly through a clipboard on which were clearly the results of Ginny's blood test.

"Is there anything you would like to tell me before we begin, Ginevra?" she said finally, clutching the clipboard to her chest and surveying Ginny. "Anything you may not have been completely honest with me about? Any . . . new problems with your health?"

Ginny's mouth was suddenly very dry. She had absolutely no idea what was going on - was she seriously ill after all?

"Of course not," she managed, her forehead creasing in a frown. "I told you the truth about everything you asked. Why? Am I OK?"

Madam Pomfrey's lips were pursed. "Still vomiting? Still nauseous?"

"A little," Ginny admitted. "But I mean, that isn't completely abnor -"

"Dizziness?" Madam Pomfrey interrupted. "Persistent fatigue? Come now, Miss Weasley, this is more important that just your life. I need you to act your age and take responsibility."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Ginny cried out, feeling her heart pounding fiercely against her ribcage. "What's more important?"

There was a long moment in which the matron stared at Ginny and Ginny stared back, both clearly seeking answers to what seemed to be the same question. After several extended seconds, Madam Pomfrey wordlessly set down the clipboard on the desk in front of Ginny, and Ginny took it.

The school bell rang.

Rrrrrring.

The words on the page seemed blurred in Ginny's eyes, but it didn't matter.

She had already known. Even before Madam Pomfrey had asked those questions, from the very moment the matron's accusing stare had pierced her and her heart had stuttered, she felt that twinge just behind her navel, something telling her that it was only denial, wonderful effortless denial that she had been immersed in for weeks. Every time she vomited when there was nothing in her stomach and she saw the mere spots of blood that the moon brought monthly, things she had convinced herself were perfectly normal, it had been there. The truth. The harsh, staring truth, the truth that was bigger than her now. Bigger than both of them.

"No," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "No."

We were careful.

Madam Pomfrey was speaking, but there was a low, monotonous ringing in Ginny's ears that blocked out all hearing and all thought. She stumbled to her feet and dropped the clipboard on the floor, sending all the papers flying.

"Ginevra, calm down!" she heard the matron say sharply, but the words would not register.

"We were careful," Ginny murmured in dazed voice, her face frozen. "I need to -"

She lurched out of the office and fumbled for the door handle of the hospital wing. The sun was making its last grand appearance of the day through the window now, the red and gold rays positively dazzling as they shone in through the glass, illuminating everything with their iridescent beauty, and it was the sun that was the last thing Ginny saw before her eyelids fell closed, the last thing she saw before her vision slid into blackness and she fell against the wall, Madam Pomfrey's voice, was frantically calling her name, burning out into abrupt and hollow silence.

-

It was nearly midnight when the door of the Room of Requirement opened and Draco slipped in, shutting it closed behind him and blinking until his eyes adjusted to the dim torchlit chamber. He was relieved, yet slightly surprised, to see the silhouette already lying on the bed.

"I see you've forgiven me again," he said dryly, striding over to the bed and pulling her up off of it. When her face caught the torchlight, he saw that she was unsmiling, but ignored this. When she didn't respond to his rhetorical statement, he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her.

"Draco -" she began quietly when they broke apart, but he merely leaned in to kiss her once more.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, you're sorry for being such an overdramatic spaz," he interrupted, releasing her and pulling off his shirt. "And we'll definitely get to the make-up sex, but we have a problem to address first."

"Listen to me," Ginny tried to say again, her voice hoarse, but Draco shook his head, tossing his shirt aside and pulling her onto the bed with him.

"Shut up," he said firmly. "Just don't talk for a second, OK? The problem is Pansy."

There was confusion in Ginny's eyes as they stared at the ceiling, but she didn't speak.

"She wrote the letter," Draco said in a voice full of satisfaction. "She said something to me before Transfiguration that made me think she knew, and then during free period she tracked me down and threatened to go public with it -"

He paused and waited for Ginny's reaction, but there wasn't one.

"Anyway," he continued as though there hadn't been a pause. "I called her bluff; she doesn't know it's you, she just knows it's someone."

"Draco," Ginny whispered, but he didn't seem to hear.

"It was a risk coming here tonight, but I couldn't find you to tell you," he said, playing with a strand of her thick red hair, his fingers tracing a pattern on her stomach. "And now that people are finding out -" He hesitated. "I, er - told Blaise. Well, actually, he kind of guessed."

Silence.

"I guess we're even," Draco said finally, and Ginny nodded slowly, her eyes blank, as though in a daze. "Blaise knows and Granger knows, but if Pansy finds out, the shit is going to hit the fan."

Silence.

Draco turned on his side to look at Ginny. "Now would be a good time to speak. There's only a month until I'm done here, right? So we just need to keep this up for four more weeks and we're home free. Nobody will be able to prove a thing."

Silence.

"There'll be no evidence."

Ginny closed her eyes.

Draco sat up. "What's your problem?" he demanded, brushing her hair away from her face. "If you're mad because I told you to shut up -"

Ginny pushed him away and stood up, wrapping her arms tightly around her midriff and turning sharply to look at Draco. "It doesn't matter," she said flatly.

Draco moved to the edge of the bed and leaned back on his hands, his forehead creased. "And what the hell is that supposed to mean? What doesn't matter?"

"Pansy."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Were you not listening to me, Weasley?"

"Yeah." Ginny's eyes were hard and distant as she looked back up at the ceiling. "I heard."

Draco's eyes seemed to ice over as well. "I had no idea you were OK with going public with this," he said, his voice calm though with anger bubbling under the surface. "What happened to wanting to be careful, Red?"

Her eyes glistened.

We were careful.

"It doesn't matter anymore," she said, her voice thick with the impending threat of tears. "It doesn't matter if Pansy knows. It doesn't matter if anyone knows. It's over."

He stood up abruptly. "What are you talking about?" he said in a low, dangerous voice.

"Oh, now you want to hear what I've got to say?" Ginny blurted out in a voice full of anger that didn't quite seem to belong to her. "Now that you've spoken, it's my turn?"

"You sound ridiculous," Draco said coldly. "I'm through with responding to your temper tantrums, Red."

"I'm through with fighting with you!" Ginny shot back in a voice that broke to a sob, and Draco shook his head in mute disbelief. "Don't you understand, Draco?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to understand anything you say?" Draco asked furiously. "You talk, and you talk, and you talk -"

"You never listen -"

"Because you never say anything!" he shouted. "Fuck, Ginny! We've been together for ten months and you never tell me the truth -"

"I told you I loved you!" Ginny cried, flinging out her arm and knocking over the nightstand which fell with an earth-trembling crash to the ground. "I don't care what happened before, OK? The fun is over, the game is over. There's no more sneaking around, no more hiding this, no more being careful, Draco. It's over, and I need you. I need you right now." The anger in her voice was misleading, because for the first time in a long time, there wasn't a shred of anger in Ginny. Draco had never let her down, and even though she knew he wouldn't start now, she was scared. She was more scared than she had ever been in her life.

"What?" Draco demanded fiercely, leaping up and grabbing her shoulders. "What the fuck is going on?"

Ginny's eyes were streaming as she met his gaze and for a moment, just a moment before he spoke, she thought that she saw a flicker of fear in his eyes.

"I'm having a baby," Ginny said flatly.

The silence was absolute for the several seconds it seemed to take for the words to travel the tangible distance between them.

Draco staggered back several steps, seizing onto the headboard to steady himself. Ginny reached out instinctively to stop him from falling, but he had already groped for the wall and found his balance. His eyes had fallen shut, and Ginny watched him wordlessly until they opened again and slowly, tremulously fixed on her.

"How long have you known?" he asked quietly.

Ginny was trembling all over. "Today," she whispered back. "I just found out."

"I see."

Ginny took a step forward, her eyes searching his face. He was pale, paler than usual, and his eyes were glassy as they stared sightlessly at her. For a moment she saw it again there, that flicker of something like fear, and then, quite suddenly, it was gone. She wondered if perhaps all she was seeing in his eyes was a reflection of what was in her own.

"I should have known," Ginny said softly, trying to keep her voice steady despite the constant flow of silent tears down her cheeks. "I should have known that it couldn't just be illness. I just -"

"How long?" Draco interrupted.

"How long what?"

His teeth seemed to clench. "How long . . . how far . . . "

Ginny understood. "Ten weeks," she responded, her voice faltering. "Give or take."

Draco looked grimly satisfied. "We have time."

Ginny didn't seem to hear. "I'm sorry this is happening," she said tremulously, stepping closer to him and reaching out to lay her hand on his chest. "And I know it's terrible timing, but it doesn't matter. All that matters is the here and now. We can get through this."

Draco stared at her. "Meaning?"

Ginny wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand and looked up at him determinedly. "I'm tired of the secrets and the lies," she told him simply. "And now we have a reason to stop hiding from the world."

Despite the new burden, Ginny's heart felt lighter than it had in months. They were free. It didn't matter that in less than seven months, their lives would be altered unchangeably, that they would have a whole new life to provide for. It didn't matter that after Christmas, she wouldn't be able to return to Hogwarts. It didn't seem to matter anymore what their families or their friends would say when she and Draco walked up to them hand-in-hand, and told them the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth for the first time since they had made the mistake of deciding to be together. Despite her shock and her anxiety and her inconsolable fear, Ginny felt her knees growing almost weak with relief at the prospect of the deception being over as she reached for Draco's hand, looking into his face with a quavering smile.

He did not return it.

"Ginny," he said precariously. He was shaking his head slowly back and forth, and still his face was frozen in that rigid, void expression. "What are you talking about?"

Her smile faltered, her forehead creasing with lack of understanding. "We can't hide a baby, Draco."

There was another long silence during which she looked at him and he didn't seem to be able to reciprocate. Finally he spoke.

"I can't."

Ginny stared at him. "What do you mean, you can't?"

He was shaking his head again, and Ginny felt as though a block of ice was sliding into her stomach, heavy and cold. She reached up for his face and tried to force him to look at her, but he pushed them away.

"I can't," he repeated, his voice steadier now. He turned away from her and took a few steps towards the bed, leaning his hands down on it and dropping his head. "This thing, a - a baby . . . that was never part of the deal."

"Part of the deal?" Ginny echoed, enunciating every word in incredulity. "Do you think I planned this?"

"What I think is irrelevant," he responded point-blank, turning back to look at her with a measured gaze. "How it happened and why it happened is irrelevant; all I know is that this is wrong."

"Does that matter?" Ginny demanded, her face flushed. "Things change. Maybe people change too. I never got into this because I wanted to love you, Draco. But I did. I do."

"Then that was your first mistake," Draco snapped, and Ginny started, staring at him in shock. "Maybe this was wrong all along, maybe it was a mistake even to get into this, but we made the choice."

"And these are the consequences!" Ginny shot back, tears forming in her eyes again. "Try to act like an adult, Draco. We played grown-up games, and this is the penalty for grown-ups who aren't careful."

"We were careful!" Draco hissed, and Ginny took a step back.

"We made it together," Ginny said in a low, faltering voice, trying to keep it steady even as she was shaking from head to foot. "We created this thing by being together and being true to our hearts -" Draco's teeth clenched, "- and we're going to let its existence tear us apart?"

Draco didn't blink. "Get rid of it."

The blood drained out of Ginny's face. "Never."

Silence.

"Then, yeah. I am."

Ginny's eyes were locked upon him in an unfaltering stare, even as her chin trembled uncontrollably. Although her brain was sending messages in panic that this can't possibly be happening, he would never do this to me, her heart rate was steady. The one boy who never let her down when she needed him was being perfectly clear for the first time since she had first tried to understand him.

"So that's it, then," Ginny said finally, her own voice seeming to come from very far away. "After months of 'casual' sex and doing everything to see each other and trying to make things work, you're going to walk away."

"I'm not walking away," Draco responded in a cold, measured voice, not looking at her. "You're pushing me."

"You're asking me to pick you over something that is living inside me," Ginny snarled. "You won't even admit that you love me, and you expect me to end a life because you're a selfish fucking child."

"Stop talking about love!" Draco roared, and the sound seemed to reverberate off the walls and ceilings. "We sleep together, Gin! That's it! We fucked for a couple of terms, and in a month, I'm leaving this school and never coming back. What did you think, that we were going to have a fairy tale ending? You think the fact that you're having a kid is going to make everything OK? This isn't about 'love', and it never has been. You were insecure and I wanted to get laid, and because of some mistake that never should have happened, you think we're going to live happily ever after?"

Ginny's stunned silence seemed to serve no purpose but to make his face harden still further as he glared determinedly in another direction.

"So this is how it ends," Ginny said in a calm, quiet voice after a few long minutes. "After everything we've been through and all the ways we've changed by being together, you're going to let me run away again?"

He didn't respond.

She closed her eyes. "This time it's for the last time."

Draco wanted to say something, to spit something angrily in her direction that would shatter that icy, unchanging demeanor that she had adopted. Her face was cold and rigid, and it made him furious. She became hysterical at the slightest thing, tears and emotional anguish for the simplest occurrences, and now when it really mattered, she was carved from stone.

She backed away from him, her hand finding the doorknob behind her back.

Draco turned away from her, his eyes falling closed as the door slammed shut with a tremulous bang as Ginny broke into a run through the empty moonlit corridors, feeling the jagged shards of her broken heart piercing her chest with every step she took away from the person who had just given it back to her in pieces.