The cool breeze whipped across her face and tousled her hair. Ginny breathed a sigh of pleasure, for today was her first day in over month to be outside. The sun was peeking out from behind the clouds and Slytherin Quidditch players were scattered across the pitch. It was good for her to be outdoors, and she hoped that it would help ease the tension stirring within her. The tension had been present since the morning after her sorrowful confession to Draco.
After she had imparted her dark secret, Ginny didn't possess the strength to continue her tale. Draco, for once, understood and took it upon himself to provide comfort to her. He crawled into the bed and securely wrapped his arms around her waist, whispering, "For tonight, I'll keep away your demons." He hadn't elaborated and Ginny, for some reason, hadn't protested. She fell, shortly after, into a heavenly sleep, where only sweet dreams bombarded her mind. The next morning she stretched out upon the satin sheets, finding the spot next to her occupied by rumpled linens and a sleeping Antigone.
The dreams still plagued her and contained a very unnatural element to them. It had been a week since the first one. Ginny willed her body not to fall prey to the Sandman's wiles, but in the end, always succumbed. She was a spirit, yes, but that could not erase the habits of 17 years. She fought her nightmares, willing them to change in her mind, until they ended in her waking. As she resisted, the nightmares grew consistently worse, adding more gruesome details to the already grotesque dreams. They had not caused the same magnitude of shock and pain the first had issued. She was able to hide her torment from Draco, but Ginny knew that it was only a matter of time before he discovered more of her secrets.
A figure of green and silver ran along the edge of the pitch. Draco had shed his robes and was only wearing jogging trousers and green muscle shirt. He was running laps, the rest of his team a ways behind him. Run, run as fast as you can, you can't beat death. Ginny thought, amused by her own private joke. I could probably match his pace. She longed to be active again, out running the pitch or swimming laps in the lake. The temptation to just start running with him was overwhelming her, but she didn't dare try. It had taken an hours worth of pleas, insults, threats, and bargaining before Draco agreed to let her come to one of his morning practices.
"Please, Malfoy, I'm suffocating in here."
"You're disembodied, you can't suffocate."
"I wont be any trouble. Take me to a Quidditch practice… or something."
"No. Someone wants you dead and Dumbledore doesn't want you wandering about. "
"Since when do you listen to Dumbledore?"
"Just because I insult the old coot doesn't mean I don't listen to him."
"You are such an asshole."
"Yes, we've been over that part. Please, save my sanity, Red, and come up with something more original."
"How about egotistical, flower fucking, piece of proverbial shite not worth being stepped in?" Ginny's temper was kicking in. It did not matter how accustomed she was to the blond Slytherin, he could always push her buttons.
"Now that's better, but I must protest. I have never been, and never will be, a Dentrophiliac." He smirked at her.
" Dentrophiliac's have sex with tree's not pansies" she returned his smirk, and watched his face twist into one of disgust.
"I would rather fuck an evergreen than Pansy Parkinson."
"Hmm, is that why there are a bunch of letters from her in your nightstand drawer then?"
"You bitch! What did I say about going through my things!" He was standing now, glaring down upon her sitting form.
"Hey, you said to stop and I did. I found those letters in the first week, I just failed to mention it to you."
"You are a conniving little wench."
"Yes, I am. Now, what were you saying about not fucking Parkinson?" He was glaring at her again.
"My father formed an arrange marriage to Pansy for me, upon my entrance to Hogwarts. Pansy has clung to me since the day the engagement was announced."
"Your parents actually chose Pansy Parkinson out of every other self respecting witch in the world?" Ginny couldn't help the remark. She hated Pansy Parkinson with a passion and wished only ill upon her. Draco, though an asshole, had some redeeming qualities and did not deserve to be bound to that simpering fool of a girl.
"Not my parents, my father. My mother doesn't like the Parkinsons or the idea of an arranged marriage." he said. "She has been arguing with my father to let me free of it for the past few years."
"Why keep the Pug's letters if you hate her?" Ginny was curious, for he did seem to express true hatred for the Slytherin bitch.
"She cast indestructible charms on them. Same one's used on binding contracts. They cannot be burned, ripped, or destroyed in any other way. If you throw them away they will reappear in your personal quarters. Really a pain in the arse, don't rightly know what to do with them."
"If I can figure out a way to destroy those letters, will you take me to a Quidditch practice?" she asked, feigning complete innocence.
"Deal. Don't get your hopes up, Red. I've tried everything to get rid of them."
"Really? Did you try a renegotiation spell?"
"A what?" Draco had a dumbfounded look upon his face. Apparently the Head Boy didn't know everything.
"A Renegotiation spell. When the indestructible charm is cast it automatically comes with a renegotiation clause. It was created so that its official owner, or owners could alter contracts. Since those letters were given to you, it means you own them, meaning you can cast the renegotiation spell. It should give you a window of approximately ten minutes where they can be destroyed." Ginny would never say that working at the twin's joke shop was worthless ever again.
"I can't believe…how the hell do you know that?" Draco demanded.
"Knowledge complimentary of George and Fred Weasley, owners of Weasley Wizards Weezes."
"You really should have been a Slytherin, Red." Draco said, he looked confused on whether he should be smiling or cursing at her.
"So, Ferret, when is practice?"
That conversation had been two days prior, and Ginny was reveling in the small victory. She was aware that this would be her final outing before she was reunited with her body. The idea of being active in the world again excited her to no end, but it also brought a flicker of sadness. He'll go back to hating me. I'll have to go back to seeing him as death eater scum. She hated that thought. Draco, though an undisputable asshole, was an asshole with redeeming qualities. Their fights she enjoyed and doubted an opponent with such wit would come her way again. She didn't dare call him a friend, but he was a respectable adversary.
"Alright. I want two groups, against each other. Crabbe, Zabini, Fawcett, and MacDougal on the right side of the pitch. The rest of you on the left, Chaser's alternate as Keeper. I want 45 minutes worth out of you, anyone complains we're taking it through breakfast!" Draco told his team. "Ravenclaw has booked the pitch for the evening, so we will be doing fitness training. Chasers, you are swimming laps in the lake with me. Beaters I want you both lifting weights and practicing your swings." He commanded and they obeyed.
Odd he never had any problem with kicking our team off the pitch. Oh wait, forgot, Malfoy hates Gryffindors. Ginny couldn't help but wonder why Harry didn't train them more like Draco trained his team. Whenever they lost the pitch or it was already booked, Harry just told them to look over the strategies. Ginny, wanting to keep in good shape, did laps in the lake every morning, but having the entire team training was a good idea. She would have to mention the concept to Harry.
Draco was circling the pitch as the rest of his team went against each other. He was scanning the perimeter with his eyes, his gaze occasionally landing on Ginny. Feeling a bit peevish at being babysat, she would often respond to his looks with a rude two-fingered hand gesture or sticking out her tongue. Ginny sighed and moved her gaze to the chasers. It was plainly obvious that the chasers were not up to par on blocking, for Zabini scored every time. She immersed herself in the game, studying Bulstrode and Goyle's techniques as beaters. Goyle has the power but no aim or balance. Bulstrode is over thinking it. Gods can't those goons even get hitting things right?
"Potter, we booked the pitch so get your arse out of here." Draco yelled. Ginny's eyes riveted to the mass of red and gold figures. Harry was standing in front of Draco, his eyes looking very determined. Ginny felt like she had been punched in the stomach, for there in Quidditch robes and bat under his arm was Dean Thomas.
They fucking replaced me with Dean Thomas! Harry is so fucking dead when I get back. Ginny had nothing against Dean, he was a nice fellow, but the boy was as weak as a kitten. He looked nervous and was holding his bat upside down. Her temper, which for the past few months had only been directed at Draco, flared up. Ginny tore down the bleachers, jumped over the railing and was by Draco's side in seconds flat.
"Well, Malfoy, we have a note here from McGonagall. Permission to have the pitch all today to train our new beater." Harry smiled smugly, his hand gesturing to Dean. Ginny scanned over the team. Seamus Finnegan, the other beater, had given a nervous Dean a push to the front. Colin Creevey, Gryffindor chaser, was studying the Slytherin chasers who were still practicing. Ron's face though broke her heart. He looked sad and reluctant to be there.
"Come on, Harry, we can train Dean tomorrow. We don't have a match until next week." Ron implored to his friend.
"No, Ron. Malfoy has kicked us off the pitch a million times before, why shouldn't we return the favor?" Harry replied. Ginny couldn't blame him for wanting revenge on Draco, but she was still ready to kill him. Training will be the least of your problems in month's time, Potter. She was livid with his decision. She understood that the Quidditch season needed to continue, but really you would of thought Harry would choose better, some one worthy.
"Potter, for once, the Weasel has point. Train him tomorrow, this is my teams time." Draco growled. Ginny looked at his face and recognized that Draco was truly angry. In the past month she had been witness to the several levels of anger Draco Malfoy possessed. If he was restraining himself, which was distinguished by clenched fists and jaw, it meant he was itching to punch you. She had only gotten him in this state a few times, but she thought it was more from frustration with her.
"Do you want to take it up with McGongall, Malfoy. I am sure she would be happy to escort you off the pitch. I think she might just let us have the pitch all week." Harry said, smiling happily as Draco glared at him. The Slytherin looked ready to clean Harry's clock, and Ginny felt she should intervene somehow. She grasped Draco's bicep and smirked up at his annoyed look.
"Let him have the pitch, it won't do any good. Dean Thomas can barely fly a broom, and he isn't even holding the bat right. It doesn't matter how long they practice, come next match half the Gryffindor team will be hit by bludgers." She knew it was traitorous words come out of her mouth but she was pissed at being replaced. He looked a little shocked but soon his lips formed a smirk.
"Fine," whether it was directed at her or Harry, Ginny was not certain. " Have the pitch, but from what I hear you'll need more than one extra practice for Thomas to come up to par with your last beater." Harry glowered and Draco basked in glory.
"You just wait, Malfoy, Dean is going to be ten times better than the last beater?" Harry yelled indignantly without thinking. It was only moments before he was slammed to the ground and an angry Ron Weasley was beating in his face.
"How could you say that you bastard!" Ron screamed, continuing his assault on the Boy Who Lived.
"I didn't mean it, Ron! I wasn't thinking!" Harry gasped between punches. To Ginny's surprise it was Malfoy who pulled them off each other.
"Calm down, Weasley. Pot-head can't help the fact that his brain isn't connected to his mouth." Draco said, holding Ron back. Ron brushed away the boy's hands and turned to look at his friend.
"Harry, you're my best mate but I swear if you insult Ginny again…I don't know what I'll do."
"Ron, I didn't mean it like that!" Harry exclaimed.
"Yeah, I know Harry. You know I don't like the idea of replacing Ginny, so don't act like Dean's position is permanent. Now, let's fucking practice before Malfoy pisses me off." Ron said, pushing past Malfoy and heading across the pitch. Harry got up, wiped some blood off his lower lip, glared at Malfoy and followed Ron, his team close behind.
"Wow, your brother does own a pair." Draco muttered lowly.
"Yes, he does." Ginny said, not really paying much attention. She was truly touched for once in her life. Ron had finally chosen her over his friends and defended her honor. And here I thought he didn't care. She looked at the retreating form of her brother and for the first time since she was 12, Ginny Weasley saw her older brother as a hero.
A/N: Just wanted to answer some questions reviewers have given me.
In the last chapter Ginny tell Draco that Tom "raped" her soul. Ginny didn't mean it as sexual rape but more of a violation and destruction. Tom possessed her, removed most of her soul, and basically brainwashed her through the diary. This violation, in Ginny's mind, is worse than rape itself, meaning physical wounds heal but the mental ones left scars. Also Harry isn't going to be an asshole in this fic, his actions in this chapter are because 1) he hates draco and draco hates him and 2) he really doesn't think about his insults when he's fighting. From what canon has shown Harry isn't the wittiest person. Please R&R. -Blair