Oops, I wrote a one-shot. Actually, if I'm going to be honest, I have a lot of one-shots saved onto my computer, I just haven't gotten around to posting any of them :P

Free Horse

The rain streaked in a dark gray blur past the window, obscuring the scenery flashing by the train windows. A lone figure sat in the compartment, alone, her hood pulled down, her cloak pulled tight against her body, a hollow comfort for the ache in her heart. Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill over, and a strangled sort of snarl tore from her throat as she struggled to keep them back, before they finally were free, running down her cheeks, leaving visible tracks against her pale skin. She curled her hands into fists, gritting her teeth, trying to prevent the sobs, while yearning for someone to share her company, though she knew no one would. She rarely spoke, a habit that began soon after the break-up, and her moods were unpredictable, rendering her company undesirable.

She couldn't help it. They were meant to be together! Why couldn't he see that? Why did he have to leave her? She was perfectly capable of helping him! She would have been useful, and willing! She was already in danger, and she didn't need rescuing! She snarled again, broken, and slammed a fist against the window, wincing as the impact jarred her body. She took a breath to steady her racing, upset heart, but it was too late. Her thoughts had already turned towards him, the boy who no one mentioned openly, for fear of igniting a whirlwind and hurricane of emotions in the ginger.

She didn't understand why his absence made her hurt so much, why it made her yearn for the comforting touch of a lover, but it did. His decision had wounded her beyond comprehension, and she didn't know if she could ever find it in her heart to forgive him. How could she, when he caused all of this pain? He told her he loved her, but he didn't. He didn't love her. He doesn't love me. Those words echoed in her mind, again and again, like a broken record, never ending, and she wished for them to stop, to leave her alone in her misery and sorrows. Worse, she hated that she was acting like this. It was selfish, foolish, and silly; she was a Gryffindor, and she didn't need a man to make her happy. She was perfectly capable of living on her own, without leaning on anyone for help! Why should she, when all they did was cause her more pain, more stress!? She wiped at her eyes, determination glowing fiercely.

A glance out the window, and her latest resolution faltered before shattering. She gave in to the tears that seemed to beg to be released, and she crumpled into a crying, sobbing mess, her face going red, her eyes bloodshot. How many times had she cried since he first left? She lost count, after surpassing fifty. It made her feel weak, like a frightened little girl. She didn't like it, not a single bit. Not one. She was sixteen now, capable of making her own choices. Why did she continually act like this? Why weren't any of her friends with her, offering silent companionship? She needed it now, more than ever. They didn't know how dark her thoughts became, sitting alone in a depressing silence.

They didn't know that whenever she heard his name, she saw red. A deep, dark, violent red that was horrifying yet sickly pleasing. She could imagine him dead, and part of her almost wished for it to happen. She wished for him to suffer alone, to see his friends die- no, no. She didn't, not really. She was just going through a phase. She hadn't seriously dated anyone like that, and this was just one phase and would soon go away. He would defeat Voldemort, the war would end, and they would get back together, and everything would be fine, happy, and cheerful. Her happily ever after. Strangely, the very thought seemed to make her stomach twist in disgust.

The door to her compartment opened, and for a moment, her heart leapt into her throat in joy, before she met the eyes of the visitor. She narrowed her eyes, blame and hatred glaring the man down, but he mindlessly ignored her, stepping further into her space, closing the door. Slowly, his tortured, pained eyes met hers, and she felt the flickering of anger recede, if only mildly. "Sit." She whispered, her voice hoarse from lack of use, and gestured vaguely to the seat across from her.

"The weather is rather fitting, wouldn't you agree?" He asked darkly, chuckling in spite of the current events. His head was tilted towards the window, and a slim finger tapped against the glass, disturbing the gathering water at the edges.

"The sky is grieving for the death and carnage that will doubtless ensue." She replied, a note of blame dripping from her voice. Tortured he might have been, he was still the cause of this, of all of this. He was the cause of her hatred towards the boy she once loved.

Her cruel gaze shattered, however, upon seeing the look of pure defeat etched into his face, of seeing his broken gaze, and shattered emotions. It was eerie, and she wondered if she was staring at a distorted reflection of herself. "I never meant for this to happen." He whispered to her, so quiet she barely heard him. "I never could be a Gryffindor. I don't have the bravery, the courage, to face against anyone."

"Sometimes I wonder if the hat made a mistake." She admitted, surprising herself and her new companion. Perhaps the haunted look in his eyes that spoke of grief and sorrow drove her to admit those secrets she carried with her, the secrets never uttered to anyone. His eyes reminded her of the storm outside.

"Never. The hat chose right, placing you in Gryffindor." He spoke with complete truth. "You deserve the House, more than even Potter. What else but the stupid, Gryffindor courage drove you to return?" He laughed, but it was empty of emotion.

She flinched at the name, the red rearing before her eyes, but this time, she didn't bother to push it away. Rather, she embraced it, deciding that the boy in front of her wouldn't judge her for her harsh comments. "He deserves to rot in hell." She spat. "To suffer alone in this world, this war, in unending agony, just as I am." Her voice choked towards the end, and she angrily wiped at her eyes.

Gray eyes widened in surprise. "He truly left you, then? Gods, I thought it was only a rumor, started by some drunk idiot. There's further proof that you are worthy of Gryffindor. Me? I deserve to rot in the dungeons, wilting away into nothing. It fits my cowardly tendencies." He grinned ruefully.

She gave a short, amused bark that was tinged with a heavy bitterness. "Rotting in those hellholes sound more appealing than living, at this point in time." Hogwarts was no longer the safe-haven it once was, and she didn't know if she'd survive to even see the Dark Lord's destruction.

He snorted, smiling, but it was a dark smile, devoid of any positive emotion. "The Gryffindor Lioness has discovered her sadistic side, it seems."

"Surprising?" She questioned, eyebrows rising.

"Perhaps not as surprising as it should be." He leaned forward, regarding her with a renewed, calculating interest. "Yet surprising none-the-less. I never knew you to even have a sadistic side, yet alone one directed towards Potter." His smirk seemed to reflect every twisted thought that had entered into her mind, and she found herself wanting to continue this conversation.

"Then you haven't known me at all." Her own, dark smile pulled at her lips, as she slipped into an easy conversation with the blonde demon, eyes alight with a rekindled determination. She no longer was held back by her aching heart.

She was a free horse, and ready to run.

"If you do not torture the first years, I'm afraid you'll warrant a punishment." Amycus grated out in sick glee, eyes pinned on her.

She curled her nose in disgust at the very thought. "Go ahead, flea-bitten mongrel. I'd rather suffer Crucio than raise my wand against an innocent." She spat, fire in her eyes.

The teacher shrugged, wand raising, ugly face grinning, revealing several missing teeth. "Girl, you're going to get yourself killed if you continue this pattern of… undesirable behavior." He warned, but she could easily tell that he was amused by her attempts to resist him. He must have thought that she would be frightened by the very thought of death.

Instead, a dark, cruel laugh escaped her lips, surprising her. She only laughed like that in front of her lover, not when her friends were witness. It was surprising, worrying, and yet… satisfying, upon seeing the concerned look in her enemy's eyes. "I would welcome death." She snarled, drawing her wand. "The cold kiss of blissful darkness, a world without pain or agony." She shot a hex spiraling straight towards him, and he only barely managed to block it.

"Why you little bitch!" He growled, evidently over the shock of hearing those words come from her mouth. A curse whizzed towards her head, and she rolled aside, while throwing up a ward to shield those behind her. Endless training throughout the night with her new love had given her fast reflexives, and he commented more than once on how much she reminded him of a cat, with visible grace and unseen danger. Or, he'd say with a grin, a fierce, wild mare, who tasted freedom and would not let go.

A strange noise worked free from her throat, her slowly burning hatred irrupting into an inferno. "Never!" She screamed, a curse blowing part of the desk apart. "Call Me!" He barely dodged the next curse, one that left a smoking hole in the wall. "A Bitch!" The chalkboard erupted into flame. "AGAIN! SECTUMSEMPRA!" He dodged the first hex, and ran straight into the second curse, a scream tearing from his throat as he was hurtled backward, slamming against the wall, bleeding profusely from his wounds.

For a few, adrenaline-filled moments, she felt exhilarated, on top of the world. And then reality crashed down, her eyes widened, and she stumbled back in horror, a squeak escaping her mouth as her hand clamped over it. A hand fell comfortingly onto her shoulder, and she glanced up to see Neville smiling reassuringly at her. "It's fine, you did what you had to do. Don't look so terrified. Come on, we should get back to the D.A. room, before he wakes up."

She meekly nodded her head, but paused. "I-I'll be right there." She said, voice quivering as she glanced over at the unconscious professor, wondering how she'd get herself out of this mess.

For a few seconds, Neville seemed ready to protest, but Luna steered him towards the door, the first years following after him in a frightened haze, relieved that they had escaped eminent torture and pain. Once the final person left, someone stepped from the shadows to stand beside her, wand raised. "Obliviate." He said, and a white smoke whirled around Amycus's head, before vanishing into the air. She sagged against him, and an arm wrapped around her waist. "Are you alright?" He murmured softly.

"N-no, m-maybe, I-I-I don't k-know." She whimpered, turning her head to bury it in his chest. Even with her voice quivering, no tears rose to fall from her eyes. She hadn't cried since the train ride.

"You feel like you should be horrified, but at the same time, you received such a sick pleasure from it that you almost want to do it again?" He questioned, his voice hinting that he knew from personal experience.

Her head nodded. "I felt on top of the world, before the reality of what I had done sunk in. It felt amazing, like I could fly, and then I realized that I should be feeling guilty instead."

He only laughed. "Little Lioness, you worry too much. Move past this isolated incident, if it truly bothers you, and if it doesn't… we can always add something new to our training regimen." He whispered into her ear, his breath tickling it.

She suppressed a shiver at the feeling, and smiled against him. "The final battle will eventually come. It would be nice, to turn the tables on them." She whispered, wondering when her heart had become so cold.

Lips met hers in a fierce, brief kiss that left her wanting more, and then she realized that it was not yet frozen. There was still someone who could thaw it, even after everything she had been witness too. "There's your feisty spirit. Now run along, back to your Pride, before the hyena awakes. It wouldn't do, for you to experience needless pain." He gave her another brief, quick kiss.

She gripped onto his shirt when he turned to leave. "I should be saying the same to you, my silent serpent. Continue to lurk in the shadows, and don't draw any attention to yourself. You're the only one who can thaw my frozen heart."

He smirked as she let go, and just like that, the ginger-haired girl slipped from the classroom, heading in the opposite direction as her blonde-haired love. Their relationship shouldn't exist, they knew, yet it did. Somehow, they had ignored the odds, and stars be damned, they were determined to stay together.

Screams echoed around the battlefield, but she couldn't focus her mind. No, she was bent on finding him. She had to, before the worst happened. Right now, there was a deadly battle between him and Voldemort, where only one would emerge victorious, and she had to find him before that happened. Him and him were two completely different people, though both had shared her love at one point, but only he was important in her mind now. The other, the one whose name she refused to speak, he didn't matter anymore.

She snarled out a curse, and a death eater went down, rolling as blood poured from his wound. She used the dark curses without the merest of blinks, her mind focused narrowly on her only objective. Friends watched in wide-eyed horror as the ginger girl fought her way through the bloody battlefield, leaving a wake of terror behind. This was the final, last gasp, the final stretch where rigor-mortis would kick in, the moment of truth. This would determine which side won, and which side lost.

She leapt, rolled, and sped to the side, a chunk of rock landing to crash to the ground where she had been moments before. Once more, she thanked Merlin that he had taken the time to train her reflexes, senses, and intuition. All three had saved her life more times than she wanted to count, on that night.

She reflected briefly to the intermission of sorts, right after her family had finished grieving for Fred. She'd wanted to cry, but found that no tears would form, and instead rubbed at them to make them look red, out of fear of what her family would say. When it was announced that he was dead, and her love, the blonde-haired savior in her life, had to make a choice, it took only one, unnoticeable glance before he slowly walked over, pain etched into his face. She had blinked her support, allowing his Slytherin self-preservation to reign as King in his heart, at that moment. Not only that, but his drive to protect his family.

Now she had to find him, before someone on her side turned against him. She had to, or she wouldn't be able to live with herself. She couldn't lose the only love she had in her life, right now, especially not in the heat of the battle. If it were to happen, well… she doubted she would be able to stop herself from destroying anyone near her, friend or foe. Her emotions were too unstable, and she only felt right around him.

A collective gasp went around the battlefield, letting her know that someone had just died, and the sudden cheering from her side gave a clear indication of whom had defeated whom. Her mad sprint to find him came to an abrupt halt, as she glanced towards the gathering group, smiling. A faint happiness, an emotion so foreign to her, save for those rare moments with her love, bloomed in her chest, and she latched onto it, wondering if she might finally be able to cherish the emotion. In this moment, she failed to notice the creeping cold, until the grass beneath her feet turned to ice, and the happiness she had latched onto was wrenched away.

She whirled around, eyes widening to see dementors approaching, and backed away, feebly raising her wand. Emotion roared in her ears, as she stuttered to say the words that would save her, but found herself unable to do so. She gulped, and fell to her knees, staring death in the face, and felt a strange sort of peace, if only she'd be able to whisper those three words she longed to say. At the realization that she would never have the chance, those tears that she had kept away for so long rose and spilled over, and she fell into a sobbing mess, a certainty in her mind. I'm not ready to die, and I don't want to leave him, not without telling him goodbye.

"Ginny!" Harry screamed, wand out, the spell on his lips.

"Expecto Patronum!" Someone else shouted first, and a blazing silver stallion shot from the wand tip, rocketing towards her. It plunged into the dark cloud, rearing and snorting its anger, driving the dementors away, radiating such a joyful happiness.

At first, she thought it belonged to her brother, Bill, knowing his patronus, but when someone fell to their knees beside her, pulling her into their embrace, her eyes widened. "Surprise." He murmured in amusement, a real smile, filled with real emotion, like happiness and amusement, softened his features and his gray eyes. "I've been meaning to tell you that I've learned to cast it." He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Now dry those tears; you promised me you wouldn't ever cry again."

And she tried to, but she found that she couldn't stop as she clung to him in relief; relief to know that he was still alive, and relief to know that he truly did love her. His patronus, something she didn't know he could conjure, said as much. She was perfectly aware of the looks of astonishment on the faces of the crowd gathering around them, most of all on Harry's face, who stared at Ginny Weasley and her lover, stricken. "Draco…" She said, loud enough for everyone to hear as she pulled away. For a moment, he tensed, before she pulled him in for a brief, light kiss. "I love you."

He laughed, so light-hearted and relieved that she felt those broken cracks in her heart healing. "Ginerva Molly Weasley, I'm head-over-heels in love with you, and don't you ever lose your focus like this again." He told her sternly. "I can't bear the thought of losing my Little Lioness, not when she's the light of my-"

She thwacked him over the head and stood, wiping at her eyes. "Stop the drama, Malfoy. They might just think you have a heart."

He smirked at her, then, letting her pull him to his feet. "Why, Ginny, if you can have a dark, sadistic side," several people blinked upon hearing this, "then I can have a heart that isn't ice." He pulled her into an embrace again, peppering her neck and face with light, amused kisses.

She was free, and ready to run, but no one ever said that she had to run alone.

She was free, happy, and most of all, loved.

Think of this as a little apology gift for not updating A CATastrophe for so long. Hehe, sorry about that, but you have the latest chapter to enjoy, and how this one-shot, if you so desire ^^ Reviews would be greatly appreciated, also, so let me know what you think about this. I honestly don't know where it came from, but I am sort of fond of it, you know? Love you all, and thanks for supporting me, even if I had sporadic updating patterns (and to those who might be curious, I swear that I'm working on Chapter 5 right now, I just wanted to finish and polish this short snippet, before posting it). Thanks again, and don't forget to go and click favorite, follow, and leave a little review, even if it is short! It's greatly appreciated!

~ Faye