A/N: I said it in the summary but I'll say it again, THIS FIC CONTAINS SELF-INJURY. Well, and femslash. Consider yourself warned. I don't own, all that jazz. Please review.

The first time Nymphadora Tonks kisses her way down Ginny Weasley's body, everything is surreal and honestly she has dreamed of this for so long that she wonders if it can possibly be true. She's shaking all over with need and excitement, and as she pulls off faded jeans and skimpy knickers below, she can barely concentrate on anything but the want. She works her fingers quickly and expertly, shuddering each time the younger girl cries out. Her free hand trails up and down the girl's right side, and a rough place on the top of her thigh, close to her knee, suddenly hits Tonks' hand. It dimly registers in her mind, but Ginny's back is arching off of the bed and she's moaning so deliciously that she forgets all about it. Later, as they're resting in each other's arms, it doesn't even cross her mind.

The second time Tonks undresses Ginny, it's the next day, and the redhead drags her lover into a bathroom and locks the door. Understanding immediately, the Auror begins to bite, kiss, and suck at her neck. Her hands slide up Ginny's shirt and pull it off, and follow suit with her bra, not bothering to unhook it in the back. At the sight of the half-nude body in front of her, Tonks lets out a moan of desire, and her fingers fumble at the button on Ginny's jeans. As soon as they're both naked, Tonks kneels in front of Ginny, still unable to believe it, still hoping she won't wake up from the dream. As she leans in to taste her for the first time, she notices a crisscross of red lines on the girl's right thigh – the same place she felt the night before. But she's right there, naked and wet and begging, so Tonks puts it out of her mind.

The third time she notices the lines, the moon is shining through the window and hits that delicious white skin perfectly, throwing them into an odd light. They stand out menacingly from the pale cream of Ginny's thigh, and Tonks suddenly wonders if there are more of them than before, and if they seem deeper and redder or if it's just the moonlight. "Tonks, please," moans Ginny, not knowing why she has stopped in her ministrations, and Tonks continues, frowning to herself.

It's the sixth time before she finally admits to herself that she knows what is going on. Ginny writhes and moans beneath her as her tongue and fingers work furiously, and Tonks wonders how someone this alive, someone so seemingly happy and vibrant and fiercely determined could feel the need to do this to herself. But the lines are there, and there are fresh new ones in addition to the old, and as Ginny thrashes among the sheets, Tonks eases off of her and watches as one cut reopens itself and begins to bleed anew with her movements.

The seventh time, Tonks wants to stop. She hadn't meant to do this; she had planned to confront Ginny about the scars. When had their clothes come off? She can't help but wonder how everything turned out so wrong, but as her young lover's hands palm her breasts, she corrects herself – everything was so right. Her mind goes back and forth as they rock against each other, skin slipping with sweat. And when they're finished, Ginny seems happy and peaceful and sated, so Tonks decides to let her have this fleeting happiness, and confront her some other time.

The ninth time, she wonders why she's so awful at this. Of course, she's extremely good at this, at making Ginny beg and tremble and swear like the filthiest of sailors. But she can't seem to keep her mind on track whenever they're together, and this is the third attempt at a confrontation that has turned into sex. Good sex, too, she can't help but add, but pointless meaningless sex because there are too many unsaid words between them for their souls to connect like they have before.

Finally, just before the tenth time, she asks her about it. Ginny, she whispers, sliding the girl's pants down and running a finger over the cuts. Why do you do this to yourself? She doesn't answer, maybe hoping Tonks will let it go, kissing her jawline instead. She keeps it up for so long that Tonks thinks she might not have heard the question at all, except for the tear that lands on the Metamorphmagus' stomach as she kisses down. With a Herculean effort of restraint, Tonks pulls her up and rolls her over, pleading as her lips brush lightly over the pale freckled skin. Please, she begs, Promise you'll stop. She doesn't realize she's crying, but tears land on Ginny's body beneath her. A small hand pulls her chin up to make eye contact, and the younger girl whispers I can't. After a brief kiss on the mouth, all Tonks can manage is Please. Her hand slides downwards of its own accord, seeking the warmth between Ginny's legs. She hears a gasp, a moment of silence, and then: I'll try.

But, the fourteenth time they're naked together, new lines are still appearing. The area they cover is increasing, spreading to cover a patch of skin as wide as the palm of Tonks' hand. And maybe it's just her worry, her love for this beautiful girl beside her, but they seem to be deeper as well.

The seventeenth time, Tonks gasps out loud when she undresses Ginny. Instead of being confined to a squarish area by the knee, the scars now reach halfway up her thigh. The younger girl ignores her shock, unbuttoning and unzipping Tonks' jeans, but the Auror stands there dumbfounded. She feels as if she's watching some awful disease spread through Ginny's body, marring her perfect flesh, and suddenly she's sickened by the way the lines are taking over her skin. Even as Ginny kisses her, a devilish look in her eyes, Tonks finds that her desire has evaporated.

The next two times, Tonks makes sure the lights are off. She can't bear to see what Ginny's done to herself, and, childishly, she wonders if she ignores them long enough, will the lines go away?

But she's not surprised when, the twentieth time, the cuts reach nearly all the way up to Ginny's hip. She had been pinned to the wall before she was able to reach a light switch, and the lines stare up at her, seeming to flaunt the power they have over the thin redheaded girl and her lover, how they're taking over Ginny's life and strongly affecting the two women's relationship. The cuts that have disgusted Tonks before now fill her with resolve, and she kisses Ginny hard and runs her hands up and down that beautiful body. Just before she enters her lover, she leans in and whispers, Don't give up.

The twenty-second time, Ginny comes searching for Tonks, clothes already off. She's dripping blood onto the carpets, holding her hands out to the older woman helplessly. Tonks understands, horrified at the fresh cuts but relieved that Ginny had the sense to come and find her before she did any more damage. She heals the cuts magically, not bothering to remove the old scars because by now she doubts that new ones will stop appearing, but at least stopping the blood flow. Then, unable to find words, she holds Ginny tight and does her best to make her feel loved with slow kisses and probing fingers, because words aren't enough anymore.

The twenty-third time, Ginny is supposed to be at home, at the Burrow. But she shows up in Tonks' fireplace, white and shaking, and kisses her hard enough to bruise. She throws her arms around the Metamorphmagus' neck, hands balled into tight fists, and Tonks wonders if she has any control of herself at all. Her answer comes when Ginny, trembling with the effort, opens one of her hands to reveal a clean, unused knife clutched inside, and offers the knife to Tonks. I was going to… she gasps, unable to believe the restraint it took to stop herself. I need… I can't… She can't find the words, but Tonks understands. She takes the knife, and throws it across the room, and returns to kissing Ginny harder than she ever has before, and soon they're naked and slick with sweat and cum and tears. Ginny Floos home shortly after, but she leaves the knife with Tonks.

The hundredth time they make love, it's different. Ginny laughs at Tonks when she tells her that she's been counting, but Tonks has long been in the habit of making a mental tally mark each time they sleep together. She grins down at the shorter girl before slipping her jeans off and adding them to the pile of clothes next to the bed. Teasing and tickling, she kisses down Ginny's stomach but passes her womanhood by, kissing all the way down to her knee. She grins up at her, and Ginny ruffles her hair, laughing, and then Tonks kisses each faded scar, all the way up to her hip. The lines aren't red and irritated now, they're white and slightly raised and months old. They're gross, Ginny whispers, sliding a hand through her lover's short pink hair. Stop, she giggles as a tongue trails its way up and over her scars. Tonks grins at her when she reaches the uppermost line, and she says, I'd rather them look this way than the way they used to. That's really why Ginny kept the scars. She loves the pride Tonks gets in her eyes when, day after day, she slides her clothes off to find no new ones. As Tonks kisses her way around Ginny's thigh to press her tongue into the younger girl's hot core, Ginny immediately moans and presses her hips up towards her lover. Tonks smiles to herself at the knowledge that she will have more chances like this, and the hundred and first, and the hundred and second, and on and on, maybe even up to the thousandth time, Ginny's hips will buck upwards towards her just like this. And though nothing, she supposes, is ever certain, Tonks would bet every Knut she owns that no new cuts will ever appear on Ginny's body.

After the hundredth time, Tonks stops counting.