Hurt Loves

Hurt Loves

Chapter 7

Aravaeya

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Sorry for the delay.

I don’t own Draco or Ginny, or Harry, or Hermione no matter how much I would love to and I am not making any money off of this story so don’t sue.

Also, I will be back in the United States starting next week and I know I won’t be able to update before then, so it will be about two weeks before I can update, but believe me, I have a chapter almost ready!

Now, onto the story!

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My eyes flutter open slowly, and I wince as I feel the pounding in my head once more. I push back the covers and stumble out of bed, feeling my away across the dark room towards the bathroom. I fumble through the medicine cabinet until I find the appropriate pain relieving potion that will help both my ankle and my head and swallow it down in one single gulp. The pain fades almost instantly, and not surprisingly, given the amount of the stuff that I’ve taken.

I recap the vial and place it on the countertop, and then I look around in the cabinet for the rest of the potions and salves to find the ones that I need for Draco. I gather the ones that I need into my arms and tiptoe back into the main room, glancing at the clock on my way. I almost drop the potions in shock – 3:55! Good God, I really can’t believe that I slept from five o’clock til now – almost eleven hours! No wonder I feel more well rested than I have in ages.

“Ginny?” At the sound of Draco’s voice, I turn back to the bed, and I see him sitting up and sliding out, blinking rapidly, trying to get his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room I would guess. “Are you there?”

“Yeah, Draco, I’m here,” I reply, rooting around for my potions and then exiting the bathroom with them firmly in hand. “Ready to be my patient?”

I can hear him chuckle slightly in the darkness. “I suppose so. You feeling any better?”

I bring the lights up a little so that we can actually see each other and I shrug. “As good as can be expected. Now lie down. We’re going to talk while I do this.” I motion to the couch and he follows my orders. I pull up one of the dining chairs next to him and prepare to begin my work – and our talk.

“Right.” Poor thing. He looks almost scared, but then I again, I’m sure that my face mirrors the same feelings.

I strip off his t shirt and begin my work, thinking of a way to start the conversation. Neither of us speak for a couple of minutes, but finally, I sigh, gather up my courage, and pose the first question.

“What exactly happened between you and your father, Draco?” I ask, and at his surprised look, I give him a stern one back. “I need to know everything that I can to get my feelings straight. Everything.”

He sighs, bites his lip as I press down on what was previously  a particularly ugly looking bruise, and speaks.

“My father went to Azkaban at the end of last school year,” he starts, and I bite my lip guiltily. This does not escape him, and he looks quite surprised as realization hits him. “You were one of the students that put him there weren’t you?” I nod and he looks quite impressed, but nevertheless still surprised. “Well, the dementors  switched their loyalties to the Dark Lord and no one who was put in Azkaban generally stayed there, and my father was no exception. He was home within two weeks and Death Eaters were swarming at our house. The Dark side need fighters and my father believed that I could be of use to them, so he started paving the way from my initiation process. I didn’t meet Voldemort until this past Christmas holiday, but even before then, I knew that I didn’t want to follow in my father’s footsteps. He had whipped me, a lot, over some little thing that I can’t even remember anymore, and I started to doubt him, doubt his power over me, the power to dictate my beliefs and actions. I’m not really sure whether that was because of the whipping or if it was because I was finally old enough to start thinking entirely for myself, or if it was a combination of both, but when I was lying on the floor, after my father had left that night, I vowed that I was finished with him and his dirty work and that I would never follow in his footsteps.

“Like I said, I met Voldemort this past Christmas. My father still thought that I was loyal to him and the cause, and I had managed to keep up the charade, not really sure what to do, but the moment that I saw that horrible, ugly, filthy, inhuman face, I nearly broke! Ginny, I don’t know how to describe it, and I say ‘it’ because Voldemort is not a person, but all I can say is that is haunts my dreams many nights.” Draco stopped speaking for a second, his eyes closed as Ginny checked his broken bones, making sure that they were still realigned in the proper way. “My father called me to him last week, as I’m sure you’ve guessed, and I got permission from Dumbledore to leave school for the weekend to see my parents. When I returned home to the Manor, my father was in this state of nervous excitement, and finally he told me what everything was all about. Initiation. There were seven Hogwarts seventh years being initiated into the Dark Lord’s circle that weekend, and I was to be one of them.”

“Who else?” I ask, feeling this need to know who else of my brother’s year was despicable enough to allow themselves to be made a Death Eater.

“Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bullstrode, Harold Flint, and Gemma Carves. I refused as soon as my father told me. Flat out refused. He looked like he was going to kill me, and I was scared as shit that he was. He grabbed me this, I don’t know, inhuman strength, and dragged me all the way through the Manor and back to that room where he had whipped me. He had his way with me and left me there, saying that he hoped that I would have changed my mind be the next initiation ceremony. I escaped that room, I’m not sure how, and I made it outside to my broom, which I had ridden to the Manor, and somehow made it back to Hogwart’s where you found me. End of story.”

I sit in amazement, not really sure what to say to his story, and even if I did have something to say I’m not completely sure that I could say it given the fact that my insides are completely choked up with tears.

He speaks once more. “So, that is obviously the reason that I don’t associate with Crabbe and Goyle anymore, or with any of the rest of the Slytherins.”

“That would make sense,” I reply, smiling a little to break the tenseness. Draco grins back at me. I look back over his bare chest, proud of myself at the lack of bruises and markings that are visible. “You’re not in the best shape ever, but you’re healing a hell of a lot faster than last time.”

“I have a great nurse,” he says, smiling at me and kissing the palm of my hand. He stands up and walks over to his chest of drawers, and I follow him. He retrieves a t-shirt and slips it over his head and turns to me, pulling me close and dropping a light kiss onto my lips before backing away slightly. I can tell he is unsure of what to do next.

I blush, and my mind remembers my other topic. My vow. I take a deep breath, and muster all of my courage. When it does come it, it’s more of a blurt than anything else that even closely resembles a normal sentence. “I-think-I-like-you-but-I-don’t-really-know-what’s-going-on-here-and-I-don’t-really-know-if-you-like-me-and-I’m-so-confused!”

He stares at me blankly for a moment and I can almost here the clogs of his brain working to decode what I’ve just admitted to him. Suddenly, his face clears, and I know that he knows, so I bite my lip in embarrassment, and I look away. And boy do I feel like a fool.

“Ginny -” He laughs, and the sound infuriates me because I think that he’s making fun of me. I glare at him. Hard. One that I’m sure will freeze his balls and never let them thaw. He sobers up instantaneously and reaches out to touch my face gently. “How could you ever doubt that I like you? I like you so much it hurts, Ginny! And I’m confused too. It’s like I’ve gone all soft, and it doesn’t feel like me, and you’re doing that to me, and I don’t really understand it, but, I, I think I’m falling in love with you.”

I don’t even know what to think, I’m to overwhelmed to even react. I just stare at him, mouth open, eyes wide, and all I can do is just stare into his beautiful face and soak in the look in his eyes.

“Ginny?” he whispers, reaching out to touch my face. “Are you there? Can you say something? Please?”

“I, I – it’s only been a week?” I say, blurting out the first thing that comes to my mind.

He grins, letting out a short burst of laughter. “A week? You think that that’s not long enough to learn to love someone? You think that that’s not long enough to find someone in your dreams every night? You think that just because we’ve only known each other for a week I don’t want you, Ginny?”

I can’t meet his gaze, scared of what I’ll see there, but his words causing my head to spin in cartwheels, and I don’t know what to say other than – “You don’t want me. You can’t want me. Not me. I’m just Ginny. Just Ginny!”

“Oh I want you, Ginny,” he rasps, pushing me up against the wall behind me, his breath hot against my face, his voice wavering. “I want you. You’ve tempted me for so long, and I know that it’s not just me that wants this. Am I right?”

I whimper in response, unable to force out any other sounds for the time being. My mind is on overload, and I don’t know how to react. All I know is that this feels so damn good, and that I like this rough side of him. A lot. I lift my eyes to meet his and swallow hard as I study the once silver and now near black orbs that are so damn beautiful it makes me want to cry.

He closes the gap between us, pressing his lips roughly against my own, his tongue snaking out to brush against my lips. I groan and open my mouth to him, desperate to deepen this kiss, which he does.

My hands wander underneath his t-shirt and across the map of disappearing bruises and scars along his broad torso, and he pulls back to look into my eyes, gasping, to catch his breath, which I too am doing. My hands move higher up his chest to gently explore the expanse of skin, and he catches my hands in his own.

“Ginny,” he murmurs, a warning look in his eye. “I need you. I don’t care if it’s been a week. To me it feels like a month, a year, our whole damn lives, and if you don’t think that we can go that far now, then you can’t do this, you can’t tempt me this much. It’s your choice.”

I lick my lower lip slowly, and enjoy seeing him visibly squirm at the sight of it. My decision is made, and I know that I will have no regrets – Harry, Hermione, Ron, and the others can go to hell if they don’t like what I’m doing. In one sudden motion, I’ve pushed him back into the chair that he was sitting on earlier, and I’m straddling him. His eyes darken more than I ever thought possible, and I push my body firm against his, feeling him hard against my center. He lifts his head to try and kiss me, and I back my own head away, a teasing grin on my face.

“Ground rules first,” I say, holding up a finger. He begins to make a noise of protest, so I grind myself against him once, and he’s quickly putty in my hands once more. “One, this can’t be to fast, we’re both virgins. Two, if we do this, you must promise to stay away from your father for good. I don’t care if it’s Diagon Alley that you stay, or in London, or here at Hogwart’s with me, although that would be preferable. You must just promise to stay away from him. Wizard’s vow on that point.” I pause and look at him pointedly, and he solemnly nods in response, binding him to the agreement. “And three, we must use protection. Agreed?”

He quickly nods his head, and after grabbing my wand and casting the birth control charms on each of us, I relax into his embrace, allowing him to start up where we left off. My hands quickly find their way back to his chest, and his slip under the black satin of my tank top, caressing the soft, pale skin there.

I tremble in anticipation as we progress farther and farther, allowing our hands to roam places that they’ve never been allowed to visit in times past. My mind slowly becomes hazy and I am barely able to create words with my mouth. I moan softly as Draco takes the kiss even a notch higher, deeper than I ever thought possible, crushing my face with his hands and mouth. I don’t think that I have ever felt anything this good in my whole entire sixteen years of existence. Surely this is proof that there is a heaven – surely I’m there.

He shifts us off of the chair that we are highly in danger of  tipping over with our actions, and carries me towards the bed, holding my legs firmly around his waist. I tear my mouth away from his to look at the den of feather quilts and satin sheets, shivering in delight. Draco follows my eyes and smiles wickedly, lowering me back into the bed, and we start a night that I’m sure that neither of us will ever forget…

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My first conscious thought as I wake up on Sunday morning is ‘uggh, there is something wet and hot on top of me, get it off.’ And suddenly I realize what that wet, hot thing is. Draco. I open my eyes and look down to see his head in the crook of my neck, half on top of my chest, his arms wrapped firmly around my torso, and his legs trapping mine in between them. In all actuality, he is half on top me.

I let the memories wash back over me, and I regret nothing that we did, and I’m glad of it, but I know now that since we have taken such a large step in our relationship, I do have to tell Hermione, and I do have to sort things out with Harry.

I move to slip out of the bed and prepare for the day when I feel Draco’s arms tighten around me, and his mouth moves against the top of my left breast, “No. Don’t go.”

“Draco, it’s almost one in the afternoon, and I need to talk to Hermione,” I whisper, stroking his downy soft blonde hair.

“I’m so tired,” he whispers, not opening his eyes as he slides farther up my body so that we’re lying forehead to forehead.

“I know,” I say, stroking his face gently, watching it relax under my hands. “You stay here, and I’ll be back tonight.”

“You’re not changing your mind?” he asks, his eyes opening for the first time. He looks worried, fearful, and I smile to reassure him.

“Not a chance in hell, Draco,” I reply, leaning in to kiss him lightly. “I think I’m starting to fall in love with you.”

“Glad to hear it.”

He grins and his eyes fall closed once more, his breathing deep and even.  Our activities of the previous night were really a bit too much for him so early, but the only consequences are just a bit more sleepiness on his part, so he was ready for that. That and I woke up a couple of times during the night to find him watching me closely, his expression warm, and loving. If he was watching me sleep, then he wasn’t sleeping himself.

I disentangle myself from him, this time without protest on his part, and I slip out of bed, making my way over to the other side of the room. I don’t have an extra t-shirt to wear, so after picking up my flowy drawstring pants that I had worn the day before, collected my undergarments from beside the bed, and selected a white t-shirt from Draco’s drawer, I entered the bathroom and quickly showered. I toweled off, pulled on my clothes, found Draco’s slippers to wear, put my hair into a bun, and made my way out of the room and to the door of Hermione’s.

I stood for about a minute just looking at the picture, gathering up my courage, contemplating how to tell her everything that has changed with me in the past week. Goodness. I still can’t really believe that it’s only been a week.

“Asphodel,” I whisper, and the portrait swings open, granting me entry. I step inside quickly and let my eyes glance around the room.

Hermione is sitting on the sofa, nose in a book as usual, and Harry is sitting on the floor in front of her, head in her lap. The fire is going, and the lights are out, and the one window was covered to promote darkness, creating a look as if it were the middle of the night.

“Hermione?” I call quietly, announcing my presence in the room. Harry sits up so suddenly that you would think someone had hurt him, and guiltily I realized that someone had. Me. I glance over to him but am rewarded with a look of hatred and hurt and anger that pierces my heart a little further, making this ordeal even harder than it already is.

“Ginny,” Hermione says, smiling warmly at me, rising off of the couch to meet me. She comes over to me and wraps her arms around me in a tight hug as Harry broods in the corner, not looking at me. The feeling of love that emanates from Hermione’s embrace breaks through my emotional wall, and I start to sob into her shoulder, ashamed that I’ve been lying to her, that I’ve been hiding things from her. “Shh, Ginny, it’s alright. Shhh. It’s okay sweetie. What’s wrong?”

“I-I, uh, I ne-need to t-talk t-to you,” I choke out between hiccups and sobs. Hermione pulls me over to the sofa and sits me down, producing a warm fleecy blanket with a wave of her wand. She then proceeds to  procure a tray of chicken soup and hot chocolate, also from her wand and in the midst of my emotional haze I realize that with a wand, this woman can really do anything. She kneels before me, wrapping the blanket around me, shielding me in a cocoon of warmth, and then she lifts the mug of hot chocolate to my hands, closing my grip around them.

“Drink,” she commands, and I take a hesitant sip from the steaming mug, the warmth and taste of the chocolate already making me feel a little better.

“Harry, darling,” she says softly, getting up from her kneeling position in front of me and making her way over to the silent brown-haired boy. “Can you leave us alone for a few hours?”

He leans over and whispers something in her ear and she replies, but their conversation is to soft for me to hear. They finish it when Harry wraps his arms around her and kisses her softly before letting go and disappearing silently from her room.

Hermione seats herself next to me on the couch and I set down my cup of hot chocolate, mustering all the strength I have. “Hermione?”

“Ginny?”

“If I tell you something, will you promise not to get extremely angry or tell my brother?” I ask, glad that my hiccups have gone for a moment.

“I promise, Ginny,” she says, her voice soothing my tattered nerves as she strokes my hair with her soft hands.

“I- I slept with Draco Malfoy,” I blurt out before I really have the chance to think them through. The words aren’t quite the ones that I had intended to use, but I suppose that they have the same effect.

I don’t dare look into her face, for fear of seeing the anger and disapproval there that I knows that I deserve. Not disapproval for sleeping with Draco – no one can make me ashamed of that – but disapproval for hiding our circumstances from her.

“Ginny,” she says, her voice comforting. I make no move, and I feel her hand touching my cheek, guiding it upwards so that I am looking directly into her eyes. “Ginny, I’m not angry. I already know…”

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Please review, this is my first Draco/Ginny(or any) fanfic, and like all other authors, reviews are what keep me going!

Um, yeah, so it’s a bit shorter than I would have liked, but I’m quite proud of this particular chapter. Lord knows I can’t write love scenes or kissing scenes. For goodness sake, I can’t even think them through properly, and I have to think everything through completely to make sure I get the details right, but when it comes to things like this I’m lost. But I think I did okay, but I guess it’s ultimately up to you guys. What did you think of it?