Title is 'Not What you Think'

Summary: Harry beats his girlfriend. His girlfriend starts to go out with his best friend. Harry is an asshole.

Disclaimer: I disclaim this crap.

Chapter 1: Broken

This breaks me. I am in love with Harry Potter. Or is it love? I no longer know. What I do know is that Harry Potter is not what everyone thinks he is. I wish I didn't know what I know. But wishing is for fools. Fools like… well, like me, Dammit.

Harry Potter is my boyfriend. Yes, 'The Perfect Couple', that's what we are. There isn't a single person who thinks he does what he does.

He told me one night that he was right. That he wouldn't hit me like he does if I didn't do so many things wrong. That it is right for him to hurt me. And hurt me he has.

I hold it all in. I have to, who can I tell? Who would believe that Harry Potter abuses his girlfriend? I can't believe it myself and I know first-hand that he does.

He hurts me, then I hurt me. It always happens the same way. Harry comes to my room, drunk of course and touches me. He wants me and he know I won't resist. He knows that I don't care, he knows that he controls me.

So I'm lying there pretending I'm far away with my mum and dad, not being raped by 'The Boy Who Lived'. Not having the most intimate part of me bruised by His hateful lust, not having my pale skin burned by his cigarette.

Is this really love? Is this beautiful thing that every girl dreams of truly dirty and wrong and painful? I don't want to believe that, but when he does what he does to me he says "I love you. You're mine and I love you."

I need my box cutter. WHERE IS MY BOX CUTTER??!!? And there it is. My only

Friend. The only one who cares about me. My life is ironic, no? I find comfort in the sting of cold metal and pain in the arms of my 'loving' boyfriend.

My box cutter loves me. She traces beautiful lines across my skin and takes away the emotional pain. The physical pain does not bother me. In fact I like the pain. I'm a masochist.

Roll up my sleeve. My arms are mangled. Bruises, cuts, burns, you name it. I push the blade of the box cutter up and place it to my skin. Sometimes I think that maybe I shouldn't do this. But the pain is essential; it's a part of me now. I don't think I could stop if I tried.

But today isn't the time to try. Today I cut. Today I need it badly. My box cutter loves me, no one else does. She takes my pain away. I pull the blade across my arm again and again. This is my magic. I trade emotional pain for physical. Fair trade.

I have to admit that he is good at what he does. I share this room with another girl. A girl that is close to me. But she does not know. He never gets caught, and its not like I can tell. My word against the word of Harry Potter. He saved my life, there is no way that they would believe it.

I wish Hermione knew. If anyone would even consider this it would be her. She has always noticed the rage within him. She just passes it off as anger from Sirius' death. Which it might be, but I am the one who deals with it. I am the one who is one the receiving end.

When I was younger, about third year or so, I would have these dreams. Hermione would come to my room and stroke my hair. She would comfort me, tell me that everything was going to be okay. I believed her. I think I still do.

When I am alone in my room I am leery. I hear people walking up and down the stairs and think its Him coming for me. But when she is in the room with me, I really do feel safe. Sometimes I wake up and my cuts are gone. Sometimes I wake up and Hermione is

staring at me, in that smart-ass way of hers trying to figure me out.

My name is Ginny Weasley and I have a problem, or two, or 8. My boyfriend is a famous hero… who beats and rapes me. I hurt myself and then I fantasize about a GIRL!! Wow, how the fuck did I let my life get so screwed up?

Well chapter 1. My chapters are short, but there will be plenty of them, and often. This is not a happy story. If you're looking for a happy ending… look elsewhere. Reviews are appreciated. You're opinions matter to me -snort-.