Unofficial Portkey Archive

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Though My Heart Is From Hell
Chapter 4

I tore through the halls as fast as I could, unaware of anything in front of me. My eyes watered from the intensity of the wind that blew, and that was when I realized that I have drifted off outside.
The lake I stood by was calm and quiet, blue and serene. I saw myself staring back at me questioningly.
And there I sat, thinking over the events that had only just occurred. To put it simply, I had been foolish. To ever think that something good would happen to me, perhaps. It wasn't the fact that he had taken advantage of me, it was the fact that I had believed that it could be real, that he could have been attracted to me, to ever think that whatever god that was up there would give me a break. Perhaps I was still a foolish child, and maybe he was right-- fairy tales were for dreamers. I told myself again that I would have to stop being so naïve. It was weakness, and it made me tremble, threatening to break me, to make me dissolve into something helpless and defeated. Picking up a small smooth stone that sat on the ground next to me, I threw it down in the pale water, watching as my reflection shattered, then rippled back into place again. I picked up another smooth stone to throw into the waters again, but I did not. I took a look at myself, a calculating look at-maybe what I looked like. Or maybe what I was really feeling, I do not know. I saw confusion and hurt in my dark eyes that looked so foreign to me, staring back at me sadly. Once again. But then, there was something else lodged in with that bitterness. I saw fiery anger, anger that could not be smoldered, anger that came from tears cried one too many times.
Letting the stone drop, I stood up, turning away from the too calm lake. I had meant to do something about Draco today, I had really meant to try and help myself from falling furtherI really hadBut what could I do if Draco beat me to the game?
Well done, Draco Malfoy.

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It was after dinner, and I was by the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, book on my lap as I studied. Soon, I heard footsteps thudding on the other side of the room, near the portrait hole, and I could tell it was Harry, Ron and Hermione simply by the way their footsteps pounded on the ground.
" Hullo, Ginny." Ron greeted rather jovially, face looking slightly red. I looked up and offered him a weak smile before looking at Hermione, who was smiling warmly at me, and Harry, who was ruffling his ever messy hair. They seemed so happy.
" Have you finished your homework, then?" Ron asked, peering over my shoulders. I nodded quietly, looking down at my book, feeling discomfort set in heavily as I felt their eyes on me. Anxiety, guilt; everything. The pen in my hand I chewed slowly, my eyes on the book beneath me yet not able to take in anything it said.
" Well, we'll be off then, Ginny. Call us if you need anything." Ron patted me on the shoulder before his shoes thudded out of the room and up the stairs, Hermione following. I waited quietly, back hunched over, and I waited for the last pair of footsteps to go up the stairs, but they never did.
The fire crackled noisily, and the room was so cheerful, what with it being adorned with scarlet and gold, but I felt a numbing tension fill up in me as he continued to stare at my back with his brilliant green eyes that seemed to know everything.
With a snap, I turned around briskly, trying to work up a casual smile.
" Aren't you going to join them, Harry?" I asked nonchalantly, eyes sparkling brightly beneath the square rimmed glasses I wore. He stared down at me with that odd, calculating look he wore often. Stepping forward, he smiled warmly.
" Of course." He replied easily. Thud, thud thud. Soon he was up the stairs, and I was alone.
I had tried to study. But I could not, and the words were a blur in front of me. Letting out a weary sigh, I closed the book and set it down on the table in front of me.
Yet again, I felt trapped, and I felt as if I needed to run away, to where, I didn't know, but I knew I have to get away. Nodding, I got up and stretched, before calling up the stairs.
"Ron, I'm going to the library!" My voice echoed through the walls, and for a moment, there was no answer.
" Alright then! Don't be out too long!" I hurried out of the portrait hole and scurried down the familiar path to the dimming library. Heading toward the same table I had sat at in the morning, I looked for the book that I had been sure I had left on the table. It was not there. Looking over at the librarian, Madame Pince, I frowned, though she did not notice. Perhaps she had shelved it.
Walking over to the Muggle Literature section yet again, I hummed a small tune as I guided my finger over the stack of books, searching for the right one. But it was not there. Confusion filled me again, for I did not know where it had gone. Perhaps it had been checked out already?
Straightening my robes, I strode over to the librarian who was reading a small, black book, and cleared my throat, hoping to catch her attention.
Her piercing eyes looked up, and looked at me once, narrowed suspiciously as she tried to figure out what I wanted. Shaking slightly, I cleared my throat again and tried to remember what I was going to say.
' I-Madame Pince, uh, I would like to know if, uh, Grimms' Fairy Tales has been checked out?' I stuttered laughably like some idiotic fool, which I was, come to think of it. Her eyes narrowed further. Her lips tightened, and she hopped off her stool to come closer to me as I stood there frozen.
Fear.
I felt a hand on my shoulder. A cold hand, and Madame Pince's eyes averted to the owner.
" Come now, Virginia. Don't bother Madame Pince." A cool, deep voice that I knew so well-and one I was slowly growing sick of. I looked toward my left and I saw his cruel sneer. As he led me over to one of the hidden tables, I did not know why I followed, I did not know why I did not resist-all I knew was that he was making my heart thump again, and he was making me feel vulnerable all over again. Bastard.
" Looking for this?" he asked quietly. Looking at the object he held in his hands, I realized it was the book. I glared at him with all the hatred I could muster, and snatched it back angrily.
" No need to get snappy, Virginia." He muttered, looking at me oddly. But this time, I would not stand for him. Though part of me was indeed happy that he was near me again, the raw feeling of hurt was still present in myself.
" Get away from me." I pleaded, my voice cracking. He raised one eyebrow, never taking his eyes off of me.
" And what if I don't?" he challenged, amusement in his voice. I didn't know.
" Please" I must have sounded pathetic and disgusting to his ears, though he did not show it, for I felt disgusted with myself.
" Why are you mad, Virginia?" he asked in what he thought was a concerned voice. But it wasn't. And when I looked at his perfect face I saw that. Here was the man who did not know how I felt, nor would he ever know. I opened my mouth to answer him, millions of thoughts running through me.
" Because-" But I stopped, because he was not looking at me any longer. His eyes were staring out the window, squinting as he struggled to see outside into the evening. Eyes widening slightly, he grabbed my shoulders and pushed me away, walking quickly away from me.
" I have to go!" he called, before rushing out of the library.
Immediately, I felt the confusion and emptiness set it as I realized what had just happened. Once again, I had failed to speak my mind passionately like I had imagined so in so many dreams, and he had once again blatantly ignored me, unable to see beyond my desires. Or so I thought.
Slowly and wearily, I walked down the halls alone until I saw the familiar portrait of the Fat Lady again, and I spoke the password quietly, climbing in tiredly. I was not thinking of anything at the moment, I was merely basking in the confusion of his sudden leave, but the nagging voice in my head reminded me to think again of the horrible fate that could await me-if I do not take action.
But I was tired. All I wanted was some rest, and to slip away from my life again. So, I lay sprawled across on the couch, book lain in front of me, the world seeming very far away.

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A bang. A bang, and the portrait burst open, admitting three grim-faced figures that I recognized well. I awoke with a start, realizing that I had fallen asleep, still not completely grasping reality. As I looked around, ignoring the three for a moment, I saw other students scattered around the common room, eyes wide as they looked at Harry, Hermione and Ron, who had their wands pointed out in front of them. Without wasting a moment, and without giving any of us a chance to wonder what was going on, they rushed over to us and shouted for the whole room to hear.
" 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 6th years, please go to your dormitories now." Harry paused, fear dotting his every feature.
"7th years, follow us." A few students got up and walked out the portrait hole without a word, and murmurs rose from the rest of us. What was going on? Harry pursed his lips and turned away along with Ron, while Hermione faced us still, her face so full of concern.
" Go, now!" she repeated, jerking everyone to their senses. Slowly, they dropped everything that they had been doing and scurried up the stairs in a frenzy, for the alarm in their faces had not been forgotten. I followed them, book clutched tightly in my hand, my other hand clutching the rail next to me.
People swarmed around me, eyes wide, mouths open as they yelled across the room, but I could not hear them. I stumbled with each step I took, and slowly, dizziness took me over, the black haze setting in stronger.
My mind was screaming all the while, screaming things that did not make sense, yet things I could decipher.
Get to your room.
Innumerable chills shot up my body as the screams shook me, made me tremble with fear, great fear that I had never thought I could even come close to feeling.
I don't know how I managed to reach my dormitory-perhaps someone had pulled me along the way. But when I reached my bed, I let out a whoosh of breath, falling gratefully onto it, wrapping myself with the quilts that lay on it. The screams I heard clearly now, and they came from everywhere around me.
He is here.

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When I woke up again, I was sweating profusely; cold, bitter sweat that mixed with the tears that had fallen while I slept. I could not remember the dream I had dreamt, but it had been horrible. Full of blood and screamingand of horrors I didn't dare speak of. My mouth felt dry and surely there was a lump in the back of my throat, or perhaps that was the fear that immediately overtook me?
I wrapped the quilts tighter around me, but that did not help shoo away the chills. Getting up and letting the blankets fall away, I licked my lips and gingerly placed a barefoot on the floor, glad that they met warm carpet instead of cold stone.
I peeked out the door and into the dark hallway, hoping to catch some movement, hoping to get somewhere. When I saw no one, I crept down the stairs slowly, taking care not to let them creak, and winced as my feet touched the cold floor.
Green eyes.
" Harry?" Alarm reached my voice as I saw him sitting forlornly on the shabby couches that looked so dull-simply because the light outside was still gray.
His tired eyes met mine and he smiled, pushing up his falling glasses.
" Hullo, Ginny." He said. His voice was hoarse and I could feel his tiredness in the air. I walked over to him quietly, still in my nightgown and the questions returned to me, for I strived to understand, wanted to confirm my assumptions.
" What happened, Harry?" I asked quietly, almost dreading the answer. He didn't answer for a while, however. Smoothing out my gown, I sat beside him, fixing him with a probing look as I struggled to get something out of him.
"Just-" he paused, his breath coming out in short, erratic sighs. " Just an attack, Ginny." I sat silently, my face becoming stoic as I heard his words.
" Nothing to worry about Ginny. No one you know was hurt." He added in what he hoped was a reassuring voice-but how could it be, when fear coursed through him like a raging river?
Strangely enough, the prospect of an attack did no effect on me, and I remained silent and emotionless.
" Only some death eaters" he trailed off, his voice distant as my thoughts wandered away from him. But when I heard those 4 words, my head snapped towards him, eyes wide and searching.
" D-Death Eaters?" I repeated dubiously, fear clawing at my heart. He nodded casually, not thinking much of it. I should have dropped the matter and assumed that he was ok-perhaps he wasn't even a Death Eater, but I couldn't. Being the pathetic, lovesick thing I was, I couldn't.
" Which ones, Harry? Do you know?" I asked eagerly, a hand on his shoulders. He turned toward me, suspicion in his eyes as he wondered why I was so intent on knowing. Shaking his head, he answered.
" How would I know, Ginny?" I looked down at the floor, trying to calm my heart that had been thudding loudly. But Harry had seen enough. Taking my hand, he forced me to look in his eyes.
" Why do you want to know?" he asked, his voice dangerously low. I shrugged, trying to writhe away from him.
" Just wondering" My voice was small and frightened, for he looked so menacing. He must have noticed, because he turned away, his expression softening.
"Just remember: One less Death Eater in this world is one less innocent life lost." He told me quietly, green eyes probing my own, trying to look into them. But I would not let him. My hands shook so I grabbed the arm of the chair and took a deep breath, feeling the wind rushing into my lungs, making me feel breathless in an odd way. Strange worry overwhelmed me, and I felt an urgent call leading me away from the common room.
I could not withstand such a strong force. I twirled around briskly and walked stiffly towards the portrait hole, face grim and eyes wide.
" Where are you going, Ginny?" Harry called after me in alarm, and I could hear him stand up, and his footsteps soon thudded over to where I was, following me out into the corridors, pursuing me without relenting.
" Ihave to go, Harry." I said quietly so that only he could hear. I turned around and faced him.
I have to go. Forgive me.
His harsh expression softened for a moment, and he closed his eyes, clenching his fists. Putting a hand on my shoulder, he smiled lightly.
" It's dangerous for you to be out here, Ginny." He insisted. I tried to resist, for the nagging in my body was getting intense, yet he was persistent and strong, and he led me back to where I started, leaving me frustrated.
I couldn't understand. A big part of me-the part I that I could understand, the part that was rational, that part of me was frightened to death of the attack, and that part of me warned me to stay where I was instead of venturing into possibly dangerous paths. But the other part of me, though it was a small part, it was strong in an unruly way and if I tried to resist, I felt it grow stronger, and I felt myself grow dizzy and pained. Worry shadowed my mind, and I grew impatient. Impatient with myself, impatient with Harry.
For hours I sat by the familiar fire of the common room, biting my nails nervously as I waited for news of the attack while Harry sat near as if keeping an eye on me, though he dozed off numerous times.
And at long last, the portrait hole swung open to reveal my brother, face streaked with grime. He entered and saw Harry snoozing, then promptly woke him.
" Harry-we have to go." He muttered, his voice harboring much fear. I sat straighter, wondering where he had to go, for even then, I was still naïve about such war. Harry did not protest and he and my brother left, left with just one look towards me, a look that said clearly, ' Stay here.'. But I could not. Curiosity, mischief, and worry took over me-and I had to go find him. If not find him, at least wander about the halls. I would not sit by the fire in safety all the while. Grabbing my black cloak from my dorm, I padded out the portrait hole quietly, watching for any one that passed by, and trusted that my senses would lead me to where I wanted to go.
I wandered aimlessly along the halls for a long while-at some points it seemed hopeless. Yet something kept me going, something kept this burning inside my heart, this burning that made me go.
The wind blew. I looked around and saw that I had walked outside into a dark evening. Looking up at the sky, there were dark gray clouds that threatened to burst. Wrapping the cloak tighter around myself, I walked along the grounds. Perhaps I was taking some time to think-to reminiscence, or to further think of what I had to do-those certain depressing matters I had not much thought of since the library.
'Damn it!'
The loud hiss snapped me out of my thoughts and I looked around frantically, searching for the source. I soon found it.
His blonde head was hung low as he hissed and groaned in pain, and he sat under the tree alone, cursing and brooding. He looked up, and his great gray eyes glared up at me, menacing, accusing, wary-it was also dotted with annoyance.
Ignoring the way in which he stared at me, I looked down at his arm. My stomach churned slightly as my mind registered the image before me. Blood all over his robes, crimson blood, dark, metallic blood. The cut was huge and the bleeding had not stopped. Skin that had not completely broken off flapped as the wind blew, and I winced. And a moment later, another emotion took me over. Worry, concern. Those feelings overwhelmed me, and I could not contain myself. I rushed over to him and grabbed his arm, looking it over, biting my lip. I tried not to. I really did.
But my salty, bitter tears fell upon his wound.
I loved him. And he knew.
Because when I looked up at him, eyes still full of tears, he sneered at me, almost pitying me. I felt hatred toward myself, I felt humiliated-because I obviously cared for him. And he obviously did not. He laughed at all my silly antics, laughed at the way I could not fight against him. The maddening part? He was right.
Shifting his position, he cleared his throat.
"So, are you going to help me, Virginia?" he asked amusedly, knowing the answer all too well. Powerless over my own feelings, I nodded, and after ripping a piece of my cloak, I wrapped it tightly around his wound.
"Follow me."
Slowly I walked back towards the castle.

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'Shit!' He hissed loudly, wincing in pain. I glared at him.
"I told you it would hurt," I reminded him. " But you're going to have to deal with it." He looked away and I took that as a sign of relenting. I dabbed the swab over the wound again, then took out the gauze and wrapped it around the area that was cut. It had stopped bleeding by now, and for that I was grateful. I smiled at his arm as I finished, feeling satisfied with my own work. I looked up at him for his approval-I suppose that was what mattered most to me. It was also the first time I had smiled in ages.
He was looking down at me oddly, no sense of respect in his eyes. For a moment, he did not say anything.
" You like me, don't you?" he commented suddenly, eyes hooded and challenging they glanced at me. Silence rang loudly through the room.
I turned away, feeling that I could not answer the question. I did not want to, and it did not need to be answered. My heart rocked and ached as I looked out the window, and his eyes were always on me.
Then he laughed. Laughed cruelly, sadistically, laughed in all the ways I remembered Tom to have.
I couldn't take anymore, I didn't want to-I wanted so much to push him away with no hesitation, to not care if he had fallen off a cliff.
So I turned to him, eyes narrowed and glistening, wondering if he had gone crazy.
And that was when I saw the tattoo snaking over his arm gracefully. Shining proudly, darkly, and suddenly his face seemed to grow malicious, crueler, colder, and fear engulfed me. But I stood my stance and continued staring at him-that much I could do. Fire burned in me, this time anger mixed with horror, because he knew I loved him. And now my fears had been confirmed. I felt weak and powerless.
He sat there in the Gryffindor common room, looking like beautiful. He sat there next to me, and I ached in vain. I ached alone, and the world laughed at me.
A flash.
His eyesthey flashed dangerously and when I looked in them I saw that there simply wasn't a single bit of warmth or remorse or anything remotely related to human nature
Soon I felt my heart ripping out of me, because his lips were upon my own yet again, and everything inside of me he took with him. My heart, soul, mind-he controlled me when he kissed me like this, and I couldn't do anything-didn't want to.
His cold hands wrapped around me and pushed me harshly onto the couch as he lay on top of me, lips trailing down my neck, leaving me panting, gasping, crying bitter tears because I was so addicted to him, so intoxicated by him-and though I thought of this as heaven, forbidden, painful heavenit was all an illusion. He smiled at me cruelly through his lips, and I knew everything that he was. Cruel, heartless, deceiving, ambitious. And I could only wonder one thing: Why couldn't circumstances be different? Why couldn't he be kind? Why did I have to fall in love with him? So if I had, why does God not give me a reason?
Don't cry, Virginia.
Though I could sense what he was telling me with every blink of his eye, every movement of his body, he whispered only one thing into my ear, one thing to send my mind reeling, leaving me incapable of feeling anything now.
'You're mine.'
Another flash, and a burst of strength
I was screaming. Eyes closed, my body shaking, I mustered every bit of strength I had in me and pushed him away, pushed him away though he was at the same time drawn to me-or perhaps, I drawn to him.
I stood up, hair a mess, eyes bloodshot as I struggled to breathe properly.
" Get away from me, Draco." I whispered quietly, pathetically. His arms crossed, he stared at me, towering over my head.
"So fickle, aren't we?" he murmured. Stepping closer, he smirked slightly. " Can't decide what we want?" I looked down at the wooden floor.
"You know that's not what I mean." His eyebrows raised in mock surprise.
"Oh?"
I wanted to shout at him everything that I had said to myself.
You deceiving bastard. Go on then, take advantage of me. Use me, kiss me, then throw me away. Leave me lying lifelessly on the cold floor, fading with the passing wind. You know I love you, and you use me for the destruction of everything that was once known.
"Stop." I pleaded simply. A pause.
"Stop what?" he asked innocently, stepping even closer. I closed my eyes, feeling bile coming up my throat. As my hand touched my forehead, it met cold sweat.
"I can't do this, Draco." I said, asking of him something that I was quite sure he would not agree to.
"Can't do what?" he persisted, insisting that he did not know what I was talking about.
"Can't fight." A cruel smile formed on his pale, glowing face.
"Oh, but Virginia-that's where you're wrong. You don't have to fight." I looked at him, eyes wide. My heart quickened and soon thumped loudly. And as it always did, my vision got blurred soon, my cheeks wet.
"Crying again?" he scoffed, no change in disposition though he saw me cry. " Weak." He spat disdainfully. I was so angry.and while I was crying, I was screaming in my head, listing all the reasons why I was fighting him, why I hated myself and what I really wanted. Was there a reason other than instinct? Wasn't that good enough for me?
"Oh, but I do. I do have to fight, Draco. I'll fight hard and strong-undaunted by you. And when I win this battle myself, I'll get rid of you. I'll make it so that I won't spend another day thinking of you and your damn gray eyes." My voice was loud, clear and with surprising force. The sound of it lingered in the room for a while, but soon the silence replaced it. I stared at him still, and he stared back at me.
" I am a worthy opponent, don't you think?" he questioned. Flustered by the oddness of the question, I nodded, hesitation replacing the feeling of hatred and determination.
" You would be a strong opponent as well, Virginia-but you have weaknesses that I do not have."
"I have none." I said, hoping I was right though doubt filled me. He chuckled, lifting my chin up slightly.
"Love is weakness, Virginia." I blinked.
I had been so pumped with strength only moments ago, because I knew I had to fight, and knowing that I had no choice in the matter helped me.
A cough. That was all that took to snap me out of my reverie. I stared at him, for he had grabbed his cloak.
"Why bother fighting when you have no hope?" he asked. I did not answer. Sighing slightly, he looked me up and down once more before he nodded at me, a sign of good-bye. Then he disappeared out of the portrait hole. Leaving me feeling once again angry. I had not said all that I had wanted to say, I had not won at all. And I wondered.
Why bother fighting when you have no hope?
Because my life was worth fighting for? Because everything I believed in, whether it had been once upon a time, was worth keeping? Because I loved the world as it was?

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I was cloaked in black robesI proceeded down the hall quietly, and I did not recognize the place I was in. But soon I met the great ugly doors to the chamber in which I was called to, and it no longer mattered. As it was thrust open with amazing strength, I came face to face with a huge room full of others cloaked in robes, hooded as they moved aside for me.
And I walked down, cruel smile upon my face as I reached the destination. I was sure of what I wanted to do, and I was sure that I had to meet whomever it was that sat at the end. Though the fear was there, it was surprisingly weak.
And I stopped in front of him. Only his blood red lips I could see, and his glowing eyes so cruel, malicious, showing everything that was pain and misery. His lips curled up into a satisfied sneer.
'Welcome'
I bowed before him, my master, his greatness
He laughed, laughed because everything was perfect, and there was no way to lose now.
I stared down at my arm and saw the snake. Saw it shine and glisten in glory. I should have been scared, alarmed, but I was not. With that glance, all fear rushed out of me, banished forever. I wanted to be here.
And I laughed too, for indeed, how would we lose with I on their side? How would Harry Potter defend himself now, when fate and luck have deserted him?

To Be Continued

A/N: Feedback is appreciated.