Though My Heart Is From Hell

A/N: My first dark fic. You can read the fully updated (but still not finished) version on ff.net at my supergirl aka sky is blue account.

http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1142505

Summary: 16 years old, and no longer a child. She never was, come to think of it.

The world she lives in is on the brink of war, and she’s about to fall. Fear over takes her, because her life is so wrong. Falling in love with Draco Malfoy. Because he sees her; he notices through his ever-changing eyes.

Posing a threat to her—and more importantly, the whole world. And he has power greater than her imagination. What does this have anything to do with her? Every day the tears fall, because her mind, heart and soul are corrupted—confused, constantly falling. His spirit still lingers deep in her years after, a constant reminder of who she is.

‘I don’t want the world to die.’

She must stop him, though he makes her weak. Though she loves him dangerously. Stop him from becoming what he was destined to. But how can she even begin to, when she must first win the battle within herself? A battle she is losing…

-Though My Heart Is From Hell-

Introduction

He was perfect in every single way. In ways that I knew I would never be. And some may choose to call me crazy, thinking so about such an antagonistic man—but what do you think of it? Do you, as well, think me a freak? You soon will.

And now you wonder how I ever came to admire him. Notice the word I choose to use: admire. I do not think I love him—not yet, anyway. And that’s why I must stay away from him, for I fear his charm will take my senses over. I’m afraid, to tell you the truth. Because I fell in love with him one fateful day; the world was still spinning round, and the sun was still shining. And everything was wrong.

Did I just wake up one morning with the notion that he weren’t such an arse after all?

Or was it something gradual. It does not make sense. And this creepy, shivery, chilling feeling that I get whenever I think of him, or whenever I’m near him—it’s the same feeling I experienced in my first year in my horrible state of trance. Sometimes I would break free of it, and I would get the most horrible shivers.

And now, when I look at him, he shines in my eyes.

You think me crazy, don’t you?

I think I am.

He was perfect because he did not see me as everyone else did. Look at yourself, now, and you’ll realize you see me as a shy, boring girl.

You know what the difference is between you and I? You, you might be one of them. The loved ones. The happy ones, with the smiles; the popular ones. And I’m not. And do you know what that does to a person? I see things differently than you do. Because I do not have a filter withstanding between dream and fantasy. I see reality, and I hate it—because all the while I watch myself fade away with the hurtful words and actions, I must keep my fake façade. Just because no one cares to look beyond it, doesn’t mean I don’t want them to. And Draco Malfoy, he did. He very nearly saw me for what I was, who I wanted to be, and he saw the greatest desires within me.

You think me crazy, don’t you?

I think I am.

~*~

“Ginny!” Her voice rang throughout the empty corridors and of course I turned around. She was beaming at me, waving a piece of parchment in the air.

“ Oh, Ginny, look! I aced that test!” she chirped cheerfully. And though I did not feel any rush of excitement, I was a good actress. So once again I put on my mask that I had so skillfully created, smiling that winning smile.

“ Oh, Amelia, that’s wonderful!” And even to my own ears, the honey covered voice that was unfortunately mine—it sounded so sickly, so fake. Yet once again, no one noticed. No one cared to look into my eyes just once—just long enough to see who I really was. They were all too ignorant. My thoughts unwillingly wander toward him. How perfect he is. You surely must have noticed how different his eyes are from the rest. You surely must have observed them once or twice, afterwards pondering under the starlit sky what was so different about him. How they were ever-changing, perhaps due to his mood, or even depending on the weather. But they were a truly the eyes of a fey—a great and powerful wizard with many secrets hidden within his walls.

Perhaps that’s what is so different about me. I don’t think the way you do. If your mind were a sunny day, mine is the most dangerous of storms, not because it destroys everything in its path, because it is sneaky, cunning, and strikes when you least expect it…

I cannot think of cheerful things. It’s like a shadow, a shadow that was placed after my first year. Trying to remember past my first year; I can’t. The incident overtakes my mind and heart and soul.

His leering face forever remains in the depths of my body, and I can still feel his weak spirit linger inside of me. That spirit is always there, sometimes stronger than normal. It is what causes me to become the dangerous storm, and isn’t it ironic? It grows stronger with every naughty deed I do. Every sin, every dark thought. Because then he knows I am slowly falling.

And sometimes the temptation to be a destructive storm is great. And when that spirit is completely rekindled, I will be gone. Ginny Weasley will be lost forever in a sea of confusion. When that spirit grows strong, the world will be in deep turmoil.

I have powers greater than any man on Earth—and now they’re partly bestowed upon you.

Doesn’t it seem almost hopeless? Don’t you think that one day, I will indeed be the cause of the end of the world? Already I do deeds that I dare not speak of, deeds that Ginny Weasley would be appalled of.

You and I will do great things together, and others will follow, others who have great power.

Should I fall into Draco Malfoy’s abyss; I shall be far lost than I already am. To fall in love with a dark and brooding creature is dangerous, is it not? Surely then, I will grow weaker, for love can do that to the strongest of men, and then what? He is already his father’s identical man, and surely just as faithful to Him as his father will be. And nothing makes sense. Because though my heart is from hell, I do not want the world to suffer. I want to relieve myself from this burden.

I want to stop him from becoming what he will soon be, so that I will not become that someone I had always destined to be, so that my heart will no longer be corrupted. And should I try to help him, he will see the desperate tone in my quiet, calm voice. His eyes will shine with concern, and for a moment his cold exterior will be gone. For he does not see things the way others do. Or perhaps this too is a fantasy.

I have great desires; some I dare not mention because I am still in denial. But above all, I want to escape. Escape these dark shadows that call me with such luring voices, escape the corrupted thoughts that haunt me.

My greatest fear

Losing the battle within myself. The temptation of power is far too great. Maybe I’m not strong enough, maybe I’ll fall just like so many others have.

I fear that soon the darkness will be all around me, nothing there to help me out of the dark.

Love will always help you.

The lonely words of my foolish mother. Love is such a trivial thing in the world I live in. Love is weakness.

I am on the edge of the cliff. Just give me one more push.

To be continued….

A/N: R/R

A/N: Thank you to those who have reviewed. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Maybe the plot, but who knows?

Though My Heart Is From Hell

Chapter 2:

It started out as an uneventful day—the sun still shone, though it was rather dim, and the wind still blew outside. The dreadful classes went on, and everything, everywhere reminded me of…whom I was. What a surprise that was.

I walked slowly out of the great hall—and I walked alone, hiding within the shadows of the corridors. My hands were clenched and my footsteps were light. But then how was it that I could hear them thud heavily on the ground—or perhaps that was my heart? I was melancholy. I was in a good mood—better than usual. But that soon changed.

“ Virginia.”

I halted, my thoughts halted, my heart halted. Virginia. He called my name so softly—and yet it was as loud as a stampede of elephants. Commanding, luring, forceful. So much charisma withstanding in one simple word.

I knew he was behind me, I could feel his body there, and I could hear his soft, even breathing. My first mistake was turning around to face his eyes. His gray eyes that made me shake with fear—they held so much animosity.

Our lips were sealed, yet there was so much said with the one look he gave me. With one look of his changing gray eyes I knew what he was telling me.

I know who and what you are. Thus the odd ringing in my ears began. Denial.

My eyes darted frantically around, and I tried to shut him out, tried to run away, but I was frozen—and so was my mind. So much was said—things that could not be said with simple words, and even now I cannot contemplate clearly what he had said. Only then I knew. And only then my fear had increased; making me shudder with each breath I took. The moment that passed was merely a minute or two. But it very well could have been hours, or days, or years. Time had disappeared—slipped through my fingers like sand, and it no longer existed.

“I can give you power you had never dreamed of even in your wildest fantasies, child.” His soft, strong, and dangerous voice floated from everywhere around me, surrounding me, and I was getting lost. Lost in the fog.

I can give you power you had never dreamed of even in your wildest fantasies.

Willpower. Using every ounce of willpower I had, I began to see beyond the endless fog that blurred my vision. No.

It was tantalizing, the way my whole body tingled with his words—and it was so near, so close, almost within my spindly grasp. No.

If only I said yes, if only I nodded, everything would be fine, and I would be one, I would be renewed. Yes…

But what then? Damn the question—but it was what saved me from falling. What happens to the world then? And the feelings disappeared, for reality had kicked in. And somehow, knowing that I could not say yes made me feel even weaker, making my knees buckle with pressure.

“No…” I cried, gasping for breath. His face was like stone; cold, hard, with no apparent emotion.

“ No?” he mocked me, his cruel and thin lips curling up. He watched me break down with a spiteful glare, gray eyes boring holes in me as he did.

“ And tell me, who are you to turn down such an offer?” he asked.

“ No, I can’t, Draco.” I kept on, though my voice was softer.

“ Aren’t you a little coward?” Silence, and I was grateful. I did not answer because yes, I was a coward. I knew what I was without him telling me.

His robes swished and for a moment I was enclosed in black. Then, he was gone.

---------------------------------------+

I’m drowning in pools of sweat and blood and I cannot see anything beyond it. I shake and shudder with a cold that I cannot describe, and though there is fire, I do not feel warmer. Fear is present within me, and I think I am screaming, for the shrill, bloodcurdling sound is sure to be mine…

Sobs interrupt the night’s silence. I knew I was shaking, and I felt hot and cold at the same time. Dreams. Dreams that did not make sense—but that was why they were so terrible, because my heart understood and I did not understand my heart.

My eyes traveled over to the window and I noted that the stars looked oddly bright tonight. Oh, how I wished I were one of them, not one looking for hope, but the one to give hope to those who were lost. I wanted to be free like the wind, to let Ginny Weasley’s spirit overtake myself, to become complete. To be the smiling girl I was once upon a time.

How did he know?

That had been my first rational thought after my encounter with him. But the question merely bounced back to me.

How could he not know?

Of course. He was smart, bright, witty—whatever adjective you choose. He was quick—of course he knew I was different. I smiled half-heartedly, feeling an odd, warm feeling creep up my spine. My Draco had looked past my boring exterior and he had seen me for who I was—he had, for a brief moment, seen my troubles. And it made me love and hate him even more. Because though he was the first to see me without my mask, he was the one who had taken advantage of it, he had been the one to sneer at me so coldly, laughing at my pathetic life.

Danger. The word echoed through me. Now that he knew—and it would do no good to deny it, for he had seen me at my weakest—everything was in danger.

He would manipulate me, because my secret was out. I would fall hard. My heart would be burnt and tortured and I would become Virginia, a ruthless girl with no heart at all. I did not want it to be so. Ah, but what I gift it was to know what was coming for me—I had thought on the matter many times before, and the knowledge made me even more fearful.

. My life will eventually be gone, and I would be stripped of any sane thoughts. I knew I would be miserable. But furthermore, I knew what danger it brought upon the world. Voldemort was rising to power. His Death Eaters followed. Draco was powerful for I see it every day in his eyes. But above all, I knew what I was capable of. Or what I was capable of with Tom’s immeasurable powers. I remembered the look that Draco had flung toward me moments before he had left. He knew I had won this time.

But I’ll be back, Virginia. And I will win.

Already the world was on the brink of war, and hope was already bleak in this war that had not yet started. The few that were powerful had died many years ago—and so many chose the path of betrayal because of their lack of bravery. Already the light side was out-numbered, and it took merely the slight push of the teeter-tottering balance to change the whole aspect of the world.

And I knew what I had to do. Because though I was destined to evil, that was not what I wanted. I did not want the world to perish on my account—or Voldemort’s for that matter. I knew I had to help in any way I could, and it would take a million miracles. But somehow, perhaps I could rekindle the part of Draco Malfoy that I knew was there, hidden deep beneath layers of his scornful thoughts.

I had seen it once or twice within his eyes, once upon a time—in the moments when he was alone, when he smiled softly, making his whole face glow beautifully-- and perhaps the alliance against Voldemort would strengthen because of it, and perhaps the world would have a chance. And I needed a miracle. More so because I did not know whether or not I had the strength to fight against His lingering spirit—the battle within myself. I wasn’t sure of anything, however, and I did not know if any thing would work out the way I planned to. The only comforting thought was the fact that I wanted to help—that I had not yet lost all hope. But who knew where I would be standing tomorrow?

I looked toward the stars once more, feeling so cold though it was a rather warm night. I sighed.

I needed a miracle.

---------------------------------------------+

The Great Hall buzzed with noise, just like any other day, and just like any other day, I sat towards the end of the table, right next to Ron. Just like any other day, I picked at my food and listened to their idle talk disinterestedly. But today, their faces were dotted with apprehension as they talked in rather hushed voices.

‘ Have you read the Daily Prophet yet?’ Hermione held up the black and white newspaper with a flourish, the headline bold and clear.

10 Muggles Killed In Last Nights Attack

My eyes flew over to Harry and Ron to see their reaction, and their faces were grim, an odd fear in each pair of eyes. Words that weren’t spoken were understood.

So close to war…

It nearly scared me, how little effect the news had on me. Perhaps because the news was so common, as common as the birds chirping on the bright, sunny morning.

Images flashed through me, images of the death eaters killing the innocent people, images of Draco killing them. The fact was no longer a surprise, not after what he had said to me so enticingly last night.

My precious Draco having blood stains over his robes…

More than anything at that moment, I wanted to stop him, I wanted to see him back when he was a child, when he was naïve.

My chair screeched loudly as I pushed it back to stand up. Ron’s troubled eyes looked up to mine questioningly.

‘ Ginny?’ My mouth opened, and I searched for the right words.

‘ I-I…have to go…’ I stuttered. I looked calm as ever, I knew, and for that I was proud, but as I walked placidly out of the Great Hall full of laughter, my hands shook beside me. The shadow that filled my inside had grown larger.

For the millionth time my thoughts lingered on the present danger, and they lingered on the single thought that I could not let myself sin, that I could not let Him win. I could not let the dark win.

A loud whoosh whipped past me, leaving my cheeks stinging, and then followed a clatter. I looked down and saw books before me, books that were not my own. And down on the floor was him, picking up the books with his long, slender fingers, his blonde hair immaculately clean, I noticed.

A million exhilarating thoughts rushed through me.

Stop everything. Tell him. Stop him. Win.

And things should have changed the moment I opened my mouth to pour my soul out to him. To take the chance to make him see new light.

But it all stopped with his eyes, the same way it had begun. He looked up at me, face so cruel, eyes even crueler, and they made my heart stop with pain.

I feared him.

‘Virginia…’ His murmur was full of disdain, obviously the memory of last night still present.

Who are you to turn down such an offer?

There were so many questions I wanted to ask him—questions that I had already guessed answers to. The urge was so great, to get somewhere within this whirlwind of hell, to understand better. But I was a coward, and I could not move while staring into those eyes. All the while, I had a feeling he knew what I wished to do. He raised one perfect blonde eyebrow and I knew he was mocking me yet again. Tears came to my eyes as I struggled not to blink, not to let him win.

In the end it was I who walked away. He looked back down to pick up his last book, and I ran.

Ran like the coward I was, for I wanted to get away from my life, if only for a moment…

I felt so naïve afterwards, when the tears had shamefully fallen again. Naïve that I had ever believed anything could be achieved so simply.

I needed a plan—something so inevitable, something so strong—to make even the great Draco Malfoy to go weak in the knees. I needed a plan to unleash the secret to changing destiny—and I very well hoped it was possible.

Overcome fear…

To be continued…

A/N: Review please.

Disclaimer: I don’t own much. In fact, I don’t think I own anything. JKR does, and I give her credit for the setting and characters.

-Though My Heart Is From Hell-

Chapter 3

For the second night, I could not sleep. Damn him, I thought over and over again—because he was the one that haunted me day and night. I was not stupid. But to think of such a fantastic plan—this feat seemed nearly impossible. I have already told you that I had watched him from afar for many, many years. How does one change the life of a man who seems to have no feelings? An ice statue; constantly frozen, beautiful…and full of hatred. Even the greatest and warmest of fires could not melt that. I laughed at myself, I ridiculed myself, because here I was, laying in my soft bed, fantasizing crazy dreams that were just that—dreams.

I can give you power…

But I had to try. No more sleep for me, I had decided. Not that I had gotten any.

I got up, pacing holes in the floors, before I sat back down at my desk, working in the dim candlelight. So many thoughts flew in, and I sat there, fingers tapping the wood furiously, my pen waiting patiently to be used.

Weakness.

It hissed in my ear so stealthily…I had read in so many fairytales--of happy couples and a jealous bystander—and how he plotted to kill the hero. Weakness. It came to me so quickly, so simply, and I thanked god for it. But just like every story, there were numerous problems with the first step. I didn’t know what his weakness was. I knew what I had to do perfectly well: Soften him, make him listen, make him understand—get to know him well enough so that he would let me in, to let me taste some of the sorrow he felt. Get past the cold exterior and be rewarded for it. Hope to find someone different under the ice… I did not think simple, idle talk would achieve that.

Picking up my pen, it hovered above the parchment for the briefest of seconds, before it hit the paper, the black ink flowing out clearly and boldly.

Find his weakness. Break down his walls—and at the very least, yearn to understand him.

As I stood back to read what I had so gracefully penned, I chuckled at what I had written—it sounded so malicious to my ears, like it had come from the Dark Lord himself. But then again, a part of the dark lord was within me. I could feel him constantly, I have told you, and I know he gives me abilities that most are not graced with. My mind is faster, smarter, sharper, and he makes me bolder. Take his forceful character; mix it with the quiet, shy yet empathic Ginny Weasley and you have the perfect weapon.

Cunning enough to think of marvelous plans—quiet, small, gentle enough to blend in anywhere, to melt anyone’s heart.

But not Draco Malfoy’s.

Rolling the piece of parchment up, I slipped it into the pocket of my robes and walked over to my bed once more, looking out the window, awaiting for the sun to rise again. All the while I pondered idly of Draco, of when I would triumph and he would see the light, when all would be alright and the Dark Lord would be gone…and Draco—he would kiss me tenderly, and everything would be right. We would be hopelessly in love, and I would have good reason to be in love with him. And no longer will the world scoff at me.

Am I surprising you yet, my friend? Do I surprise you with how my inner thoughts are so different from what you see every day? Do I frighten you? I frighten myself.

--------------------------------------------------+

The sun crept up so suddenly, and the light filled my dorm. I looked around and saw the others sleeping peacefully, not a worry on their faces. I envied them. I wished to remember the times when I was like that—but I could not.

I felt restless and I wanted to get away. So, I crept out of bed, feeling dry and tired—though not sleepy, and I got dressed quickly.

Grabbing my bags, I tip toed out of the room, closing the door behind me, nodding in satisfaction as I heard the soft click.

As I had suspected, no one was up at this early hour, not even Hermione, and I was quite relieved. I did not want to explain…lie to Ron about why I was up. I smiled weakly at the thought of his worried face bombarding me with questions, and Hermione pressing a hand to my forehead, and then Harry with that frown of his, the quiet one. I loved them all to death, and it hurt to think about what everyone was going through…the war…

They knew I loved them, and they loved me back, yet it amazed me. They had still not noticed anything unusual about me. Were they really that ignorant? And oh, what a funny picture it would be if I had gone up to them, telling them that I was a corrupted, sick girl, and that Tom’s spirit was still within me, now a part of me forever. No, they would probably laugh. It was a rather bitter thought.

The corridors were, as well, empty, and they felt oddly cold. I looked around just in case Filch was lurking about, then set off towards the library, my footsteps light. My books were clutched to my chest protectively, and as I passed a mirror that hung on the wall, I saw my pale, ghostly face; skin white as death, red hair limp, lips dry and flaking, and my eyes—my books fell to a clatter as I saw my eyes—those haunted, dark, murky brown eyes that I was positive weren’t mine. Reality hit me hard. It was consuming me so much faster, now that Draco had added to the pressure. Now that I knew I was in danger.

I looked away quickly, feeling sick already, and I never wanted to see it again. I bent down and picked up my books very carefully before proceeding down the hall, a worried frown upon my face.

Finally, to my exhausted relief, the doors came into view, and I felt almost at peace, smelling all those musty old books, becoming surrounded. All I wanted to do now was to get lost in a happy book, cry a few tears, and get away from my life.

I selected a table at the edge of the library and sat down, a very small smile forming. Rubbing my hands together, I walked over to the Muggle literature section and browsed, my eyes shining with awe.

Fairytales. I picked a thick book out and clutched it tightly, feeling content..

Fairytales are for dreamers who can’t face reality.

My expression sobered at the memory and I felt a shiver go through me, my hands running over the smooth cover of the book.

I sat back down, shaking the unruly thoughts out of my head, flipping the book to the first page, my nose crinkling as the smell hit my nose. Wonderful, I thought. My eyes fell to the title, Briar Rose, and I smiled, tingling with excitement.

A long time ago there lived a king and a queen, who said every day, ‘ If only we had a child!’ But for a long time they had none.

It happened once as the Queen was bathing that a frog crept out of the water onto the land and said to her, ‘ Your wish shall be fulfilled. Before a year has passed you shall bring a daughter into the world.’

The frog’s words came true. The Queen had a little girl who was so beautiful that the King could not contain himself for joy, and he prepared a great feast. He invited his relatives, friends and acquaintances, and also the fairies, in order that they might be favorably and kindly disposed towards the child. There were thirteen of them in the kingdom, but as the king had only twelve golden plates for them to eat from, one of the fairies had to stay at home.

The feast was held with all splendor, and when it came to and end the fairies all presented the child with a magic gift. One gave her virtue, another beauty, a third riches, and so on, with everything in the world that she could wish for.

When the eleven of the fairies had said their say, the thirteenth suddenly appeared. She wanted revenge herself for not having been invited.

Without greeting anyone or even glancing at the company, she called out in a loud voice, ‘ The princess shall prick herself with a distaff in her fifteenth year and shall fall down dead.’

And without another word she turned and left the hall.

Everyone was terror-stricken,, but the twelfth fairy, whose wish was still unspoken, stepped forward. She could not cancel the curse but could only soften it, so she said, ‘ It shall not be death, but a deep sleep lasting a hundred years, into which your daughter shall fall.’ *

“Entranced, aren’t we?” A voice as sharp as a knife. I gasped and turned around to meet his gray eyes –the source of the voice that had cut through my peace--and my heart lurched. He looked down at me somewhat amusedly, malice deep within his eyes.

“ Y-yes.” I stuttered lamely, shutting the book close.

“ Fairytales are for dreamers who can’t face reality.” He recited smoothly, taking me by surprise yet again. My mouth formed an ‘o’ at the coincidence. He must have noticed my surprised demeanor, for he shrugged casually.

“ Everyone knows that.” He said lightly, grabbing the book from the table and glancing at it. I looked down at the floor, feeling foolish again.

“ Then I suppose I’m not everyone.” With one simple sentence, his eyes flitted over to me, wide, stern, shining hungrily, almost. And while he looked at me, all I could notice was how handsome he was in my eyes, and how he made my heart tremble, though I knew how cruel he could be.

Can you hear my heart, Draco?

“ No…” he mused softly. “ I suppose we aren’t everyone.” I listened attentively, a frown crossing my face as I struggled to understand what he meant.

“ I know everything, Virginia.” He said, his face an inch away from mine. “ I know everything that haunts you, everything you desire to be, everything you have potential to be.” He paused, tilting my chin upward.

“ And I want to help you.”

The words were wrong.

I tore away from him, because everything was a lie, and I hated him. Hated him, yet helplessly intoxicated by him.

“No!” I cried childishly. “ Why would you want to help me?” I wanted to let him know that I was untouchable, that I was strong, that he couldn’t manipulate me. But with every word I uttered, I could feel the tears slowly rising, a sure sign that he affected me. He stared at me blankly in all his glory, celebrating, mocking me because he was so much better than I.

“ Because I can.” That was his simple answer. And it left so many questions.

Don’t say that.

“ You just want to use me.” I accused, my eyes narrowed until they were mere slits. He did not answer me, but kept his gaze on me as if he were calculating me—while my tears slowly fell, and I grew weaker in his trance. He stepped closer to me, an innocent frown on his face.

He was so close.

“Why do you resist fate?” he asked simplistically, as if that were something so very odd. My eyes widened as they met his, and I saw that he truly did not understand. I almost smiled. Pain, misery, cruelty he understood perfectly well—yet not this. I bit my lip, wondering how to answer him. Finally, I shrugged.

“ Because I can.” I replied smoothly, smiling at the irony. But any thoughts that would’ve flown in my head were stopped, because at that moment, he leaned in—and I was engulfed in his mysterious eyes, engulfed in his wondrous and enticing scent, and soon found myself lost in a sea of kisses.

It was a kiss full of hunger, full of yearning to know why, and he asked me again and again with his lips—while I stood still watching him achieve his goal.

Tell me everything.

I let everything fall, and wrapping my small arms around him, I gave in, kissing him back, asking back why he was the way he was—begging him to answer my questions. And though I knew it would be improbable, a part of me held on because I had drifted off into one of my dreams, and in my arms I held the boy I loved.

And he loved me.

All the while my heart jumped with excitement, for that faint hope had been ignited, that indeed he had feelings, and that he could have feelings for me, just another Weasley. How else could he kiss me so passionately?

Stupid fool…

But as with every good thing, it came to an end abruptly. He pulled back suddenly, and the moment shattered. His eyes were narrowed dangerously, and he was frowning, thin lips pursed. His eyes accused me, and they made me sweat, made me stumble, made me fall.

Tell me, Virginia.

A look of immense hurt and confusion crossed my face, and my fists clenched in pain, realizing that he meant none of it, realizing that it was just another way to use me. Just another dream shattered.

Mustering all the strength and dignity I had within me—for I was humiliated beyond comprehension—I shook my head and slowly walked away, books clutched under my chin.

“ Because I can, Draco Malfoy.”

Reality had hit me again, and I felt my heart ache yet grow stronger in a sense. It was a game—and unless he gave me answers, I wouldn’t give him any either.

*--This excerpt comes from Grimms’ Fairy Tales, by the brothers Grimm, translated by Mrs. E.V. Lucas, Lucy Crane, and Marian Edwardes.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

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 na�ve. 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.

-----------------------------------------------+

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.

----------------------------------------------+

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.

------------------------------------------------------+

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 na�ve 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.

--------------------------------------------+

'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?

--------------------------------------+
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.