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Scarlet Woman
Part 2
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Ginny tossed and turned on the black leather couch. The sheets that she'd put on the bed almost two hours ago were tangled around her legs.
Her dreams, too, tossed around her mind. Glimpses of the past flickered through her subconscious in a surreal slideshow. A scream for help, followed by the sickening crack of a curse… Tom's white, too-perfect face… her brothers disbelieving stares when she told them she was leaving.
The images swirled viciously, tormenting her restless sleep. Then - a warm grin, threadbare gloves, a kind voice. The only friendship she'd had on the streets.
And then they, too, were swept away by another wave.
Draco observed her from the hallway, gazing as the light hit pale, freckled skin. Her long hair flared out behind her, moist with her cold sweat.
He watched, waiting for a sign that she'd come out of the nightmare. When it became apparent that she wouldn't, he walked slowly over to the couch. He reached a tentative hand slowly towards her face, where he smoothed her hair back. She whimpered at the touch.
"No, don't…" she mumbled. Draco felt his heart give a lurch. He moved his hand away, feeling burned by her memories.
He gradually made his way back to his room as Ginny continued to toss in her sleep.
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She was desperate; running through the halls of Hogwarts again, chicken blood soaking into her robes. Her hands, covered with the red mark of her cruelty… only she couldn't remember any of it!
Tears ran down her face and she thoughtlessly moved to wipe them away. The blood seeped slowly into the wetness.
But she didn't care, she kept running. Behind her, a silky voice called.
"Virginia, it's all right. I'm not going to hurt you, I'm your friend. It's just me, Tom." His cool tone mounted her terror. Panting, she ran faster
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~ I can't let him get me, ~ she thought madly. ~ I can't. ~
Her feet slipped on a puddle of water and she fell, hitting the hard stone floor. ~Oh, Merlin help me.~ She cowered, pulling her legs closer to her chest, curling slowly into the fetal position. She felt him tower over her.
"Now, Virginia, what have I told you about trying to get rid of me? You know you'll never escape." She heard his robes rustle as he leaned closer to her. His breath moved over her cheek, blowing gently against her hair. "I won't let you get away this time."
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Sitting up quickly, Ginny choked back the urge to scream. Her breath coming in pants, she leaned over her bent knees, resting her head on them. Tears ran down her cheeks and she wiped them away, but not before compulsively checking her hands for the blood.
When she finally felt like herself again, Ginny stood up and walked to the kitchen. She looked through the cupboards, searching for Draco's drinking glasses. When she found one, she filled it with water from the tap and threw in some ice cubes from his freezer. Slowly, she sipped the water, looking out the kitchen window.
Draco's apartment was on a high floor and looked down on a street that would normally be busy with people leaving for work, husbands and wives heading for another day at the salt mine.
At night, though, another type of business was booming. Ginny knew how it was in that world, knew the fear, the anger, and the indescribable bustle of the underground metropolis.
She drank her water, the ice clinking against the glass, and gazed out at the world in which she'd spent the past three years. Turning away, she headed back to the couch.
When she saw Draco looking out of the picture window in the living room, she had to suppress the fears of her dream. With the moonlight hitting him, it was easy to imagine another man, just as internally dark, standing in his place. She shivered.
"I thought you needed some time alone." His voice startled her. She took a deep breath and sat on the armrest of the couch.
"No, I'm okay. I just wasn't sleeping well." She saw his face move into a cryptic smile as he turned to face her.
Ginny was wearing an old t-shirt of his that completely enveloped her small body. Her hair was in disarray, clinging to her neck and back while strands floated ethereally around her face, which was still flushed from her nightmare.
"We're going to have to get you some clothes." Draco mused.
She shook her head. "No, I have some clothing in a place about a block and a half from where you picked me up." She glanced out the window, the moonlight casting ghostly shadows on her face. She set her glass down on the magazine she'd seen earlier, glancing idly at the picture on the cover. "Now would probably be the best time to get it." She hugged herself, her arms wrapped around her in a semblance of comfort. "But Paul isn't going to be happy about this."
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Ginny hated her outfit. She also knew that if Draco hadn't been there, someone would've tried to pick her up already. She'd seen a few guys check her out from their cars, then they saw Draco and decided against stopping.
For the first time in history, a Weasley was happy to be in the company of a Malfoy.
Ginny walked calmly at his side. She saw her makeshift apartment up the street and pointed it out to Draco.
"You'll have to stay out here. Otherwise, Paul will think I've brought a customer back and he'll expect you to pay before you leave." She made a move towards the door. Draco stopped her arm.
"How are you going to get all of your clothes out of here without him suspecting something?" Draco looked at her, wondering how much thought she'd put into this. So far, it didn't seem like much.
"I don't know yet. I might Apparate out of there, I might just throw everything out of the window and down to you. Most of it needs to be washed anyway," she idly mused as she put the key in the lock.
"Unless you want to see my life in all of its Technicolor glory, I suggest you wait outside." She turned the key, pushed open the thick, metal door, and entered the apartment. It closed behind her solidly.
Draco leaned against the doorframe, lit by a bare bulb, and waited.
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Moving quickly and quietly, Ginny made it to her room without attracting any attention. Closing the thin door behind her, she hastily rooted through the small closet that held the entirety of her wardrobe. Grabbing her clothes, she shoved them into the knapsack that had been the only thing that she'd kept from her old life. It had been charmed long ago to be larger inside than it really was and to feel as though it were empty.
Making sure she grabbed her favorite pair of shoes, along with anything that couldn't be used by the next girl inhabiting the room, Ginny went to leave.
When she opened the door, though, a tall figure loomed over her and smiled. "I knew you'd come back here, Doll."
She blanched, felt her face go pale, and quickly gathered herself. "Hello, Paul," she said, smiling sweetly and feeling sick.
"You know, Doll, you're not bringing in as much as you used to. You want to explain that to me?" He leaned against the doorframe, his six feet and 185 pounds effectively blocking her means of escape.
She was in trouble.
"Men aren't interested in redheads anymore," she said, trying to figure out how to get away, to get out of this life. She'd been offered an escape and, damn it, she wasn't willing to let it go. Paul lifted a thick hand out and casually twirled a red lock around his finger. Ginny fought against her revulsion.
"Doll, men are always interested in redheads. Now, tell me why you're not pulling your weight."
Maybe it's because I hate doing this. Maybe it's because I haven't been trying to get customers, maybe it's because I've been telling them no, she thought.
"I don't know. I guess they just don't come around my corner anymore." She saw his eyes go cold, saw his arm tense, saw the hand that had been coiling her hair pull back, but she couldn't move away from the slap that rocketed through her small frame and sent her to the floor.
"I know for a fact, Doll -" he moved closer to her, kneeling over her sprawled body "- that your corner is quite busy right now. Terry's bringing in extra, too. So, you want to tell me why it is, exactly, you're not getting your share? And don't lie to me, Doll. You know how I feel about lying." He grinned maliciously, wanting her to lie again.
Ginny fought the fear that was slowly creeping up her spine. She would get out of there; she had a chance to change things, to make everything better.
Hysterical panic stole over her and she suddenly knew she wasn't going to tell Draco her story after all.
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Draco slowly pushed the door of Ginny's apartment building open. He had quickly stuck a foot in the doorframe when she'd opened it before. Moving up the stairs where he'd seen Ginny slip down a hall, he carefully made his way closer to where her room must have been.
He didn't have much need to quiet his footsteps, however. Through a closed door, the sound of a mattress moving, a head board rocking against a wall, and other noises that gave away the activities of the people in the room muffled his footsteps.
Feeling slightly ill at the thought of Ginny living here, he continued walking down the hall. It branched off in two directions at the end and he didn't know which way to go. Moving off to the left, he went towards an open door. The room, however, was empty.
A door slammed from the other direction. Spinning around, he suddenly felt the uneasiness and apprehension he's been hiding behind caution and rationality revolt against him. Breaking into a run, he headed towards the door he'd seen recoil from whatever had been thrown against it.
Ginny, he thought.
Draco ran faster.
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And that's where I'm going to leave it. I know, I'm quite evil. I have part three started, though, so the wait should be a little less. Thanks go out, along with fudge, to those of you who reviewed! I'm glad you enjoyed the first chapter. :D And now, everyone who didn't review should go and push that little button that makes my day better. *hint hint*
paranoid