IMPORTANT NOTE: Warning, this is a very dark fic about the systematic psychological break-down of one person by another and contains some VERY explicit sexual scenes. It will not have a happy ending. If this sort of thing bothers/offends you, I implore you not to read. This is intended for mature audiences only.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Sorry, nothing wittier to say about it.

Pyrrhic Victory

Chapter One

Ginny shivered violently in the bitter wind, gasping desperately for air as tears streamed down her pale cheeks, and gazed at the carnage around her with horror filled eyes. This was not possible, could not be possible. Harry could not be dead, they could not have lost! She sank to her knees, heedless of the blood-soaked mud that began to seep through the thick material of her jeans. Her chest ached as the heart within it broke. Harry was dead. The savior of the magical world had been defeated, the man that she loved cut down by the darkest wizard magical kind had ever known. She dropped her head into her bloodstained hands and prayed desperately to wake up and find that it had all been one horrifying nightmare. Her prayers went unheeded.

Her grief-stricken haze was broken by the sound of approaching death eaters, their jovial revelry grating harshly in her ears. She tried, tried so hard to find the will to stand and flee, flee in the hope of fighting another day, but the action was beyond her. What was the point, now that the Chosen One was dead? What hope did they have of taking down Voldemort now? There was no hope, she noted dully, no hope at all.

Pain lanced through her as a death eater jerked her to her feet by her hair, the group having finally reached her. "Look at what we have here gentlemen, a little blood traitor wallowing in the mud." The masked faces leered down at her, rough chuckling and jeers being tossed around between them.

Ginny ignored it all, staring blankly into the distance. Everything was too raw, too recent for anything to penetrate. Shock had numbed her to the very core. Just a few scant hours ago Ginny would have fought back fiercely but she had lost so much and the fire simply wasn't in her anymore. Instead she allowed herself to dangle limply in the death eater's rough grasp.

The man to the left of her captor chuckled coldly as he eyed the lithe redhead in his compatriot's hold, a lustful sheen coloring his eyes. "Garbage though she may be, we can still have a bit of fun with her, don't you agree gentlemen?" There was a chorus of murmured agreement and the group closed in. Ginny closed her eyes and set her jaw, taking some small comfort in the knowledge that they would simply kill her once they had all gotten what they wanted. A hand reached down to roughly fondle her breast and she did all she could to remove herself from the situation mentally, wanting nothing more than to detach herself from her body. However, before anything could get much farther, a cool voice filtered through, snapping even Ginny back into full consciousness of her situation.

"Now, now boys, I would advise against this little activity of yours."

The ringleader of the little group looked up with a sneer curling his lips behind his mask before he registered who, exactly, it was who had spoken. He stiffened slightly but backed down, bowing his head slightly in acknowledgement of this new man's superiority. "Draco, I apologize. I didn't realize…"

The blonde cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. His lips curled up in an amused smirk, his unmasked features lit with a condescending amusement. "There is much you do not realize Avery." Avery scowled but wisely held his tongue. Draco spared him one last, haughty glance before cutting his cold, grey eyes to the redhead kneeling numbly in the mud. Excitement lanced through Draco, and he felt his fingers curl in pleased anticipation. She had lived, just as he had hoped. He lifted his gaze back to Avery. "I will be taking the blood traitor for myself."

Avery gawked for a moment before tentatively clearing his throat. "But sir, surely you don't want this little slip of a thing? She is nothing more than a Weasley after all."

A slim, pale brow lifted in response. "You presume to know what I do and do not want now Avery?"

The older man felt his hackles rise at the sheer arrogance of the young man before him but was not stupid enough to issue a challenge. It was well known within the death eater ranks how highly favored the young Malfoy heir was with the Dark Lord and gaining his displeasure was almost akin to gaining the displeasure of Voldemort himself. The price of doing so was comparable as well. "If you truly want her sir," he began hesitantly.

Draco resisted the rather undignified urge to roll his eyes. "I do, now release her."

Avery scowled but gestured for the man holding Ginny to do as Draco bade. Ginny slumped further to the ground as the tight grip on her hair was released. She looked up at the blonde before her, a small portion of her normal fire returning, and wondered what the hell was going on. Draco glided forward, stopping just before the small redhead. He regarded her silently for a moment and Ginny felt a shudder travel down her spine at the look in those pale, grey eyes. It was, for lack of a better term, predatory. Slowly, he reached a long-fingered hand toward her.

Ginny stared at the proffered appendage, apprehension shivering through her. She wasn't, contrary to some people's opinions, a fool; she knew that she had only two options at this point: the pack of death eaters at her back or the blonde in front of her. Neither was even remotely appealing. Although, she acknowledged as she glanced from the hand before her to its owner, maybe she really didn't have a choice at all. Knowing, in the very depths of her soul, that what she was about to do would likely ultimately destroy her in the end, she placed her small, shaking hand in his. A slow, satisfied smile teased the edges of Draco's lips and he effortlessly tugged Ginny to her feet. His arm drifted down to wrap itself securely about her waist and he pulled her body closer to his own.

Draco brought his lips down to her ear, his voice soft and coolly amused. "Wise decision, my dear." Ginny's skin rippled with goose bumps at this rather intimate position and a strong sense of disgust created a ball of nausea deep in the pit of her stomach. She craned her head up to search his face and what she saw there made her entire body go cold. She knew, in that instant, that her suffering had only just begun.

Draco turned his attention back to the men before him. "Enjoy the rest of your evening gentlemen, I will be returning to the manor now with my," he glanced down at Ginny and the nausea increased ten-fold, "spoils."

A loud, echoing crack was all that announced the pair's arrival to the large, imposing Wiltshire manor. Ginny had barely a moment to take in her surroundings before she was being dragged along by her latest captor.

Draco, for his part, felt an acute sense of triumph stirring in his blood. She was finally his. After years of watching and waiting, of being torn between disdain and desire, Ginevra Weasley was in his grasp. On top of it all, Potter was dead and this was just the icing on the cauldron cake. He felt his lips curl up in an anticipatory grin. He had such plans for the lithesome little redhead, such plans indeed. It would a long and arduous campaign, but he knew Ginny Weasley was worth it. In the end, he would be the victor and she would come to him willingly. Ginevra was his.

A flurry of thoughts formed a veritable whirlwind in her mind as the Malfoy heir dragged her along through ornate hallway after ornate hallway. She could practically feel the excited tension rolling off of him in waves and knew that, whatever it was, it could not bode well for her. Considering the fact that she and Malfoy had been enemies in school and then enemies in war, Ginny could only imagine what sort of sick torture he had in mind for her. On top of it all, she had been Harry's girlfriend and the hatred between the two had been legendary. A stabbing pain lanced her heart as she thought of Harry. She still could hardly wrap her mind around the fact that he was dead. He wasn't coming back, wouldn't be here to save her…She took a deep breath. No, Harry wouldn't be coming to save her which meant she had to try to save herself. Once she did, then she could grieve. She refused to go down like this, not when the boy she loved had sacrificed everything to try to put the world back to right. No, whatever Malfoy had in store for her, she'd handle. A sense of calming numbness washed over her. She would do this for Harry.

After a few more twists and turns, the blonde finally drew to a halt, his hand still tightly wrapped around her thin wrist. They stood before a plain wooden door and Ginny wondered for a moment if it served as the entrance to the dungeons before, with a wave of his wand, Malfoy opened it to reveal a small, sparsely furnished bedroom. With an abrupt tug, he pushed her into the room before stepping in behind her and quietly shutting the door. Ginny eyed him warily as she rubbed at her freed wrist, not liking the expression she saw on his face as he regarded her. They were going to start right away then, huh?

Draco stalked towards her, a predatory glint glimmering in his grey eyes. It took everything in Ginny not to step back and cede ground to him. She licked her lips nervously as he drew near, flinching when his eyes trailed down to her glistening mouth. What the hell was this? Desperately trying to block the roiling sensation in her stomach that the fear caused, Ginny notched her chin up and met Malfoy's stare dead on. "What do you want?" Despite her severe unease, her voice was strong and even, something for which Ginny was immensely grateful for. Any indication of her discomfort would be used ruthlessly against her, she just knew it.

Draco came to a stop mere inches before her, so close that she could feel the heat radiating off of his body. He smiled, a cool upturn of his thin, hard lips, and the look on his face nearly made Ginny want to vomit. "What do I want?" he repeated softly, canting his head slightly to the side as he allowed his gaze to sweep over her body. "Everything. Every, single piece of you Ginevra."

This time Ginny couldn't fight the physical recoil and she stepped back slightly from the domineering male. Her eyes narrowed as she hissed, "What the fuck Malfoy?"

He laughed and closed the slight distance between them once more, his long, elegant fingers catching and gripping her chin. "I intend to have you my dear, body, mind, and soul. And the best part is you shall give them all to me willingly."

Revulsion washed over Ginny as she regarded him, the sheer insanity of his claim slowly sinking in. Hatred burned in her eyes as she attempted to pull herself from his grasp but the blonde held tight, his other hand reaching down to grasp her hip in a bruising hold. "You're mad if you think I would ever give myself to a murdering bastard like you!"

Mirth danced in his gaze, mixed with an infuriating dose of condescension. "Believe me love, by the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging for me." And with that confident statement, Draco leaned down and closed the final distance between them, covering her lips with his own.

Rage flared to life within Ginny, burning hotter than anything she had ever known. She struggled to push him away but he was relentless, pulling her closer and slanting his mouth down harder against her own. An infuriated cry rose up in her throat and she bit down on his lower lip, hard enough to taste blood. He pulled back at the sharp pain but, to Ginny's displeasure, merely looked amused at her little act of defiance. The taste of his blood on her tongue sickened Ginny almost as much as his cool regard.

Draco lifted a hand to his lips, absently wiping away the remaining blood, and smirked. "Oh Ginevra, I am going to thoroughly enjoy breaking you." He swooped down for one last brief, punishing kiss before shoving her back and stalking out of her little room, engaging the locks with a casual flick of his wand.

As soon as Malfoy left, Ginny stumbled backwards to sit on the bed. Of all the things she had been expecting, this certainly hadn't been it. Hadn't even been within the realm of possibility. She raised the tips of her fingers to her swollen lips, feeling them curl in disgust. She could still feel him and the sensation was almost enough to make her want to rip them off of her own face. What the fuck was he playing at? He wanted her mind, body, and soul? He was going to thoroughly enjoy breaking her? She bit down on her lower lip, allowing the pain to clear her head, center her focus. This had to be some sort of game, a different way to torture her. Well, whatever Draco Malfoy expected to gain from this he wasn't going to get it. His kind had already taken too much from her and Ginevra Weasley was not the type to go down without a fight. She felt her spine straighten as determination washed over her. Whatever game Malfoy was playing, she would be the one coming out the victor.

Author's Note: So, despite my unfinished works, this particular plot just wouldn't leave me alone. I have decided, against my guilty conscience, to go ahead and post it. Since I am currently living and working in China, I cannot guarantee any frequency in terms of updates but I really will try harder to put some of my focus on my works here, especially this one. As I stated in the disclaimer, this story will NOT have a happy ending so please no flames about the graphic physical and psychological violence that will ensue. Constructive criticism, however, is always welcome.