Ginevra jumped as Harry wrapped his arms around her waist-which was steadily getting smaller as her appetite seemed to disappear-and tugged on her earlobe with his teeth. She giggled and tilted her head away from him, which made him fasten his lips to her neck.

"Harry, don't you have homework?" Hermione said; her voice a shade louder than it needed to be.

"Yes, mother, I do. But today's Friday and this corner is dark and was empty except for Ginny and I..." Harry said, his voice lowered to a seductive whisper.

"Harry," Hermione said warningly.

"Hermione," Harry replied in the same tone.

"Come on, Harry. I've got homework to. I was just over here looking for my quill. Crookshanks thought it was a toy, the naughty thing," Ginevra said lightly, sliding the hand with Neville's knife into her pocket, the blade unused as it had been for the past three nights. It had been a week since the party. A week since her boyfriend raped her. A week since her plea to Draco. She winced at all these thoughts.

"I'll help you," Hermione offered Ginevra, smiling fondly at her younger friend. "I know you have trouble with History of Magic and Transfiguration. Harry can help you with your Potions."

"No, it's ok, real-" Ginevra started but Hermione was already shaking her head.

"Nope, you're going to be the top of your class this year, Gin."

"Ok," Ginevra said quietly, as she followed Hermione and Harry out of the shadows and into the brightly lit, semi-noisy Common Room.

(spacer)

She stared at herself. The mirror showed her from the hips up. Every flaw, perfection, her veins, her blood, her tendons….Ginevra wanted to cry. She could feel, actually feel her soul trying to claw its way out of her body.

A ragged, bitten nail flipped open the pocket knife, the tip drawing blood from the skin beneath. She put the edge of the knife to her wrist, and applying slight pressure, dragged it down. As she lifted it, she somehow pressed down hard, and the knife slipped.

A four inch gash was open on her arm now, and a small blob of blood formed…..and slid down her arm to the floor.

She cried then, and she grabbed the shirt Draco had given her last week (he thought she was cold, and he had kissed her palm. With such tenderness.) and she slid her pajama shorts down. No need for propriety when it's dark, and you're already a slut.

(spacer)

"Draco, you there?" she whispered into the dark hallway. Her voice echoed back at her, a rumor of helplessness.

"Ginevra." The tip of a wand flashed light. She winced. He walked towards her.

"Draco?" Her voice was filled with confusion. He had blood on his shirt, on his face, in his hair. He was wearing jeans, a button up white shirt.

"Shhhhh, don't ask questions, my pet," he whispered, smoothing her long bangs out of her face, cupping her cheek in his hand.

"Okay," she answered, a sort of happiness settling over her at the command, the term of fondness. The warmth of his fingers crept into her skin, and she looked up, met his gaze. Those cold eyes. The aristocratic features. The way his lips curved into that sneer, making her knees go weak.

He slowly moved his head towards hers, keeping his eyes open, until his lips rested on hers, just barely touching. A wisp of steam, that's what it felt like. The searing burn of hot vapor, scalding her. Her arms crept around his neck, pulling him towards her, their bodies briefly meeting. His hands went to her hips, he yanked her forward.

She moaned into his mouth as he bit her lip, and ground his hips into hers. Draco slid one hand to her thigh, pulling it up, so she would brace herself against him. Her hands found the button to his jeans, and she threw her head back as he entered her.

"Ginevra," he whimpered, his breath hot on her ear.

"Shhhh…."

(spacer)

"What're you smiling about?" Harry asked, squeezing her hand roughly.

"Today's Friday," Ginevra answered, trying to wipe the grin off her face. The silent, rough, hurried sex last night had soothed her nerves. Made her anger dissipate for the moment.

"You hate Friday's," Harry said suddenly, frowning.

"Wha-No I don't!" Ginevra answered defensively, glaring at him.

"Whatever, Gin, Make up your fucking mind for once. Don't even know why I'm with you, you're a fucking flake."

She stared after him, rage painting the back of her tongue as she bit the inside of her lip so hard it bled.

(spacer)

She loved cigarettes. The smoke clung to the strands of her hair desperately, as if terrified to leave her. She loved it when, all alone, she let her hair cascade around her face and the hints of nicotine would soothe her.

Her favorite poison, the way it makes her teeth feel fuzzy after, the way she inhales, exhales, the way the smoke dances up in front of her and beyond her.

Ginevra likes to extinguish the sparkling end on her right wrist, right now she's working on spelling out the word 'guilt', followed by 'and', followed by 'lovehateme'.

If only she believed in God, she could be an angel, that's what she thinks. One of his fallen warriors, one of his few daughters of misunderstood innocence.

(spacer)

Draco is waiting for her, leaning back against a statue, sucking slowly on a chocolate popsicle.

"A lick?" he offers, a sensual smile curling on his lips.

It's just after dusk, the wonderful space between day and night when secrets are made or broken, affairs hidden better or found out deeper…..

She reaches out and takes it, slides her mouth down it. Chocolate coats her lips, and he bends forward swiftly, kisses her with passion. Ginevra responds, her fingers in his hair, before he pulls away.

"You taste better than fire," and he leaves.

She is curious as to why she's smiling.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS!

SilverUnicorn666: Thank you! I was trying for something out of the norm a little bit. I got an idea for a Harry/Ginny/Draco triangle with a little slash and maybe Veela-ism thrown in, but once I started writing, BAM! I hope you keep reading and enjoying! Hehe…Devil's number

Allychik6: Devastating memory…yeah. Poor girl. :sniffles: Draco is rough and violent without…overpowering her, so to speak. She knows that when she says no, he'll listen, and with Harry its random bursts, scary outcomes, and he apologizes after. She feels as if he thinks she's some kind of fragile doll. Hope that helped clear things up! Thanks for reading!

CalifornianJade6: Love your s/n! Thanks for putting me in your favorite stories list, I 'preciate it! And thank you for pointing out my Latin goof. I'm teaching myself by reading one of my friends notes and photocopying her homework so I can work on it to (didn't have room for Latin this year, sad state of affairs), so I really thank you!

SilverandSilent: I really relate to our Miss Weasley too. Boxes. : shudders:

Draco-ginny-lover: Sorry it's confusing sometimes! Thanks for reading!

A/N: Longer chapter soon. I'm in shock over Dumbledore.