Summary: After watching her brother die, Ginny becomes a mute and isolates herself from everyone. Unfortunately, Draco has made it his goal to try to crack her shell and teach her to trust and love again.

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There comes a time in everyone's life when they must bridge to adulthood. When they must lose that last shard of childhood innocence and naivety and realize the cruel ways of the world. The age and moment and realization is different for everyone. I was just eleven when it happened to me. As a young girl, I was scarred for life. At eleven I found a small, innocent black diary in my cauldron. It was my very first year of Hogwarts, one I had been looking forward to for years. I thought everything would be great. And then did I discover that the little black diary talked. I wasn't stupid nor was I ignorant. I had lived in the wizarding world all my life. I had grown up with my two brothers who would play dirty tricks on me. I had always known of bad magic. Magic that was meant to harm others. But, at that young age, I was naive and innocent. I had never been mistreated. I had never been abused. Nor had I ever been neglected or hurt by anyone. I took everyone as a kind person, innocent until proven guilty. There goes that word again. Innocent. I never knew anyone that wasn't innocent.

And then, he betrayed me. Tom Riddle, a boy I had trusted, a boy I had thought innocent and kind, tried to kill me. To drain all my life like a parasite. To use me to come alive and hurt others. I hadn't realized until it was too late. Until he was pulling me into the Chamber of Secrets. I was weak, I could not stop him. He was strong, cunning, and cruel. He had no remorse for killing others. For killing the innocent. I went into that Chamber innocent. Never knowing of pain or hurt. Never seeing a person that could kill without thinking twice about it. Never seeing someone die.

Not many know what happened in the Chamber before Harry came. I barely know, I was so lifeless. Tom merely paced, muttering and waiting for Harry. He paid no mind to me. To him I was already dead. I was useless to him, a waste of time in which he could be planning Harry's defeat. I lay there, watching him, barely able to move. I knew I was going to die down there. I was scared. So very scared. But, just like him, I was thinking as well. I realized down there, as I watched the boy pace nervously, that he was not horrible or evil. He was just a child. One who, unlike me, had grown up with death, abuse, neglect, and hatred. One who had learned nothing of love and kindness. I realized, he was just as naive about the world as I. For, we had one thing in common. We had both seen only one side of the world, I the innocent, he the cruel, and it had affected us. It had landed us here. He had never been given a chance, and now he never would. But, I realized, though I could not change what he was about to do, kill me and Harry, I could forgive him. Forgive him, for no one ever had forgiven him for who he was. But I would, before I died, I would show him that in this world there is kindness. There is forgiveness.

I worked up as much energy as I could and croaked to him, "You may not care, but I want you to know something."

He looked over at me, stopping his pacing. His face was surprised, as if he thought me to already be dead now. "What," he said, leaning against a pillar elegantly and looking bored. "A last word for Harry? Want me to tell him you love him, since you were too cowardly to?"

I merely smiled at him. Even now he was naïve. "No," I whispered. "I want you to know that I forgive you. I forgive you for killing me, for I'm sure you'll succeed. And for Harry, I forgive you in advance if you do end up defeating him. And I'm sorry, I'm sorry that no one gave you a chance…No one allowed you to see the other side of life. The kind side…The loving side. I'm sorry for you…And I hope you forgive us." I had to gasp for breath between each sentence. My lungs refused to take in breath, my heartbeat was slowing.

I stared at him, not sure what his reaction would be. I definitely did not expect him to break down, his heart melting as he pleaded for forgiveness. Nor did he. Actually, he merely stared at me. And then, he laughed.

"Wise words in your death, foolish child. I'm about to kill you and you tell me you forgive me. You are more of a ninny than I thought."

I merely smiled at him, before my world went black. And, surprisingly, I wasn't scared. Actually, I was calmly peaceful.

When I awoke again, Harry was by my side. He had won. Tom was gone; the only memory left of him a blank diary. Funny, as he was merely a memory to begin with. When I left that Chamber, I was no longer innocent. I had almost died. Someone had been killed in the very same room as me. Harry himself was half dead with venom.

But, a piece of me had died as well. My innocence had left me when Tom hurt me. I had seen that part of the world. The cruel part. The painful part. My world was no longer innocent. And neither was I.

Though I had forgiven Tom Riddle (Voldemort, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, what have you), I had thought he was finished with me. I had thought I would no longer have to see or speak to that man. No longer be hurt by him. I could never have been more wrong.

That night, I had had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. All night I had felt sick. It was rainy outside; a storm had blown over England. It was wet, dark, and loud. Lightning and thunder were everywhere. A loud boom surrounded me and the house shook. It was a summer night, late at night. Father had taken mother out dancing. They hadn't been out in years, and now that I was old enough to take care of myself, they wanted to go on a date. They had to pick that night to leave. They might have prevented it. Or maybe they would have added more numbers to the death toll. I will never know now.

It was July 17th, 10:00 pm. Like I said before, mother and father were out. Percy was still at work, working a night shift. Ron had left to go to Hermione's house where they would meet up with Harry and take Ron out to see a Muggle movie. Surprisingly, it would also be the first time Harry ever went to a movie theatre. Nobody was home, except my brother and I.

My brother Charlie was home from Romania for the week. He still had his usual long hair, not nearly so long as Bill's that it drove Mother crazy. It was a strawberry blonde color from being in the sun so much. Since I had last seen him, he had gotten an eyebrow piercing and dragon tattoo that liked to roam around his body and spit fire at anyone he didn't like, though mostly it just settled on his left shoulder blade and slept. Charlie was my favorite of all my brothers. He listened to me and loved to talk with me. He understood me in my times of need. He comforted me when I felt bad. I had never had a fight with him. Not one time. Never raised my voice to him, nor had he to me. He was the person I trusted most in the entire world.

It was our first night alone together since he had come home.

I sat next to my brother, his large legs sprawled across the floor. My short legs were tucked up under me. I had always been short, like my mother. He was reading to me from a large book he had bought in a Muggle shop. It was by The Brothers Grim, and odd name I thought, and the story was about a girl named Cinderella who waited on her evil stepsisters and stepmother all day, and even though they were cruel to her she loved them anyway. I sat back with my eyes closed and listened, picturing the story in my head. It's not that I don't liked to read, but Charlie is such a vivid, animated storyteller. Or, was, I should say.

"You know," said my brother with a grin and a ruffle of my hair, "you remind me of her."

I opened on eye and looked up at him questioningly. "How so? She's a blonde." This made him laugh. I loved his laughter, more beautiful than a thousand church bells ringing, stronger than the toll of Big Ben at midnight and richer than chocolate on a hot summer night.

He smiled down at me from his height. He was taller even when we were sitting. My brother was completely focused on me instead of the book. I remember how his eyes crinkled up when he smile. He had small, indefinite creases forming around them. They would one day be as deep as

Dad's. That was what I was thinking at the moment. It's funny how sometimes we remember the oddest of things. I remember those creases around his eyes from smiling. He was always smiling or laughing. Always happy. He never let anything get him down. I respected him for that.

"You're so kind. When people are cruel to you, you merely go on living. Never let anything get you down. You always forgive people. And you always work hard. Not to mention, you are the prettiest girl in this entire kingdom of England. I wouldn't be surprised if one day a prince asked you to marry him."

"I'm not pretty," I said, blushing and staring at the floor.

"Yes, you are Gin Bug," he said, lifting my head so our eyes met. He always called me Gin Bug. I acted like I hated the name, but I really loved it. He was the only one who I ever let call me that. It was something we could share.

"Oh! I almost forgot. I got somebody an early birthday present," he said, holding up a small box. It was a jewelry box, I could tell right away. I was nearly hopping up and down, excited to be receiving a gift from my brother. He always gave me the best, most meaningful gifts.

"Happy Birthday, Ginny," he said, handing me the box. I tore it open and gasped. Inside was a small pendent, about five centimeters tall. It was made of a light, durable metal. The pendent was a fairy, small with lovely wings and wavy, flowing hair, much like mine. Around her wrist was a baby dragon. It was all silver, but definitely not simple. The carving was so intricate and tiny and detailed. And it was surprisingly as light as a feather.

"It's so light," I said.

"It's made from a metal that was formed when a dragon blew fire onto it. It is light and durable and will never rust. It's magical." Though I had grown up with magic all my life, this was special. Dragon magic. And it was from Charlie, who made everything magical.

"Put it on me, please Charlie!"

"Sure Gin Bug."

I moved my hair to one side of my neck as Charlie clasped the necklace. I could feel his hands tingling the hairs on my back. They were big, warm hands. I remember those, too.

When he had finished putting the necklace on me I turned towards him and gave him a bear hug. Charlie had taught me to never give a hug unless it was a bear hug, for those were the only real hugs.

"Go on and look in the mirror!" he said. I rushed to the bathroom and admired the necklace. It was the loveliest thing I had ever worn. My heart was light just at the sight of it. I swore I would never take it off.

As I stood in front of the mirror, I heard a large crash of thunder. And something else. A sound of…struggling? There was something going on in the living room. I rushed in there to find Death Eaters, five of them, in our home. A window was broken, allowing the storm in our house. I could hear it and see the water pouring in through the window and dripping down the wall and I thought, absurdly, Mum is going to have a fit when she sees that water stain. Charlie was standing, my wand in his hand. I had left it on the table; I was glad about that. That seemed to be all I could feel in my sudden shock.

"Tell us! Where is she?!"

"She's not here! What do you want with her?!"

"That's none of your business!" one of the men yelled, and hit my brother. He fell to the floor.

"We know your sister is here somewhere, Weasley, now tell us!" the man said, kicking him in the stomach.

Another Death Eater raised his wand to my brother. "We can make him talk." His voice was calm and fluent, unlike the other Death Eaters. Sophisticated.

Just as he was about to say the Cruciatus Curse, I screamed. I don't really remember screaming. I'm not even sure what it I said. I just remember screaming and jumping in front of him.

I could feel two strong arms scooping me up and moving. Running down the hall towards the bathroom I had just left. At first I thought it was the Death Eaters that had me, and I began struggling, but when I glanced up I saw my brother's panicked face. I was too heavy for him, he wasn't going fast enough. Loud, heavy boots followed behind us. Boots made from dragon skin. Charlie had never worn anything dragon skin, he thought it was disrespectful to the magnificent creatures. I glanced over his shoulder to see the five men round the corner. Luckily, they were going slower because of their drenched clothes. But not much slower. One of them threw a curse at us, what it was, I have no clue. I just remember yelling to Charlie, warning him. He dropped me and turned. He created a shield, just in time. Charlie began dueling with the five men, trying to keep them back. He looked so elegant, dodging and casting spells, his body dancing in the small hallway. I was mesmerized until a spell whipped past my head.

"Run!" he yelled at me. I ran. I knew I was no use to him. I knew they were after me. I knew what I had heard. I didn't know why, but I didn't question. I sprinted, like Charlie told me to. I wish now I hadn't. I wish now I had fought with him. Instead, I fled like a coward. I fell into the bathroom. The same one I had been in only moments before. Then I turned and stood numbly in the open door, wondering why Charlie wasn't following me.

"Charlie! Come on!" I yelled to him. I watched as he fought with skill. Two men were already lying on the floor, but getting back up. Why hadn't he killed them when he had that perfect shot?

Charlie backed quickly towards the door towards the door. "Get inside!" he commanded. "Shut the door!"

"No!" I stood there, waiting for him to reach me. Waiting, so we could hide in there together. He was getting closer. He was dodging spells. He was almost there. And then, he shut the door. Only, he wasn't in the room with me. He was outside of it, still fighting. I tried to open the door, but Charlie had all his weight against it. He wasn't budging. "Get in here!" I yelled to him, pounding on the door, beating my hands against it, clawing at it, but he didn't listen. I watched through a crack between the door and wall as a man disarmed my brother. Earlier, the man had been carrying a cane, one of the elegant ones, and I watched in horror as he opened it and pulled out a sword. He strode to my brother slowly, each footfall like a death toll.

"Come on! Someone is here! We've got to go!" A voice yelled from down the hall. A Death Eater scrambled to his feet and turned tail, fleeing.

The man didn't answer his comrade. He walked up to my brother, whose dead weight was against the door. My brother was kneeled over in pain from one of the curses that had hit him. He stared up into the Death Eater's eyes, and, from what I could see of my brother's face, showed no fear.

"Charlie! Charlie run!" I yelled. I beat against the door. I screamed. I tried to get out. He closed his eyes as the man brought the sword down.

Charlie's blood. I knew it was Charlie's blood, but I didn't want to believe it. I watched as the man stabbed Charlie. And then, he, along with the other Death Eaters, disappeared. They broke another window, jumping out of it and heading towards the perimeter of our yard, where they could apparate away.

I was pushing on the door with all my might. Pushing against Charlie's dead weight. I finally got it open. Finally. Even as I knelt in front of my brother, my tears spilling down my cheeks, and begged him to be okay, I knew the truth. He was dying.

The rest of my memory is cloudy, broken, confusing. I heard a voice in the room. Fred and George were standing there, looking shocked and upset. I had forgotten they were coming home to see Charlie. They had been the ones the Death Eaters heard and ran away from. Fred's wand was raised, but he slowly lowered it as he looked at my brother. "I'll go to get help! I'll be right back!" he yelled, though he was just two meters from me, and rushed out of the room.

"Bloody hell…." George muttered. "I'll go get some towels and floo mum and dad." And he too was gone.

I went to run, but a light hand on my wrist stopped me.

"Gin Bug, stay with me," I heard Charlie ask, his voice hoarse. As hoarse as mine had been when I told Tom Riddle I had forgiven him. The voice of a person who knew he was dying.

"You need help!" I screamed. My voice was not hoarse. It was loud and hysterical and broken. "Those men might come back!"

"They won't. Please Ginny. Don't let me die alone."

"You aren't going to die!" I was yelling again, my voice was cracking. Tears were streaming out of my eyes. I could feel them in my mouth. They were salty and hot.

"Please," he said, his face pained.

I crawled to his body and cradled it. I put his head on my shoulder and hugged his middle. I could feel his warm breath come in short gasps against my cheek. Tears were streaming down my face.

"Gin Bug, I love you," he said to me. This only made the tears come faster. "Never forget that."

And then, the breath had stopped. My cheek suddenly felt as cold as ice. Never had I felt colder. His breath was gone. He was gone. The tears streamed over him and me. I could have wept an ocean and I probably did. I hugged him against me and began to rock. In comfort for him or in insanity, I don't know. Both probably. My brother was dead. My mind could not, would not fathom it. But I knew it was true. He was gone forever. My brother would never smile again. His eyes would never crinkle up. He would never marry or have kids or own dragons or give me gifts or love and comfort me again. He would never read me stories or tell me useless random facts. Would never hug me or kiss me or call me Gin Bug. I felt as if I was drowning in a sea of pain. He would never live again. I could never live again. Not without him. I couldn't make it without him.

I don't remember how long I knelt beside my brother. It may have been hours, maybe only minutes. But at some point I heard footsteps. I looked up through bloodshot eyes when they stopped. My parents were there. They stood, staring with their mouths open at me and Charlie. They could tell he was dead. Gone. I could see it in their eyes. The horror. They knew. They knew now what war did to people. And so did I. I put my head down, on top of my brothers. I began to rock him again, side to side. His body was still warm. I wanted to bask in that warmth. How could he leave me here, all alone in this cold room, while he was warm? How could he leave me in this cold world? Someone walked towards me. I didn't bother to look up this time to see who. I heard them stop and crouch down in front of me, their bones creaking.

I could hear my mother crying. I knew that since she had not thrown herself onto her dead son's body, she was crying against my father or one of the twins' shoulders.

"Ginny," the warm voice said. A comforting voice usually. It had soothed me after the Chamber of Secrets. Now, it held no consolation for me. I looked up into my father's eyes. They were old and sad. His lips were pursed together, as if he didn't know what to say. I just wanted him to go, to leave me here with my brother. But he didn't. He wouldn't.

His hand reached out to touch my face, but I moved my head, so that he could not. I didn't want him to touch me or to comfort me.

"Come on, we'll take him to the infirmary." I could hear how blank, lost, confused my father's voice was.

"Why? He's dead," were the harsh words that came out of my mouth. Cold words.

He went to pick me up, to carry me away, when I screamed. "No! No! I won't leave him! He said not to leave him! He said to hold him! You can't make me leave him!" I knew the tears were spilling. I knew I sounded like a mad woman. I knew that they were staring at me. My mother cried louder. But I didn't care. They could not make me leave my brother.

"Come on-" he said, but I cut him off.

"No!" I yelled. He knew he could not get me to leave. He grabbed me around the waist and began to haul me away from my brother. I struggled against him, thrashing and kicking and clawing and screaming. I tore his glasses from his face and threw them against the other side of the room, where they broke. I didn't let go of my grip on my brother's body.

"Ginny! Enough!" he yelled at me, but still I persisted. "Ginny! Don't make me curse you."

I ignored the old man. He sighed deeply and said, "I'm sorry for this Ginny."

With that, I heard him say a spell I had never heard of, and slowly, I was becoming calm. Before I blacked out, as he picked me up and began carrying me away, the last thing I saw was my dead brother in the corner.