Scarlet Woman

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Scarlet Woman

Prologue

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She walked down the street, her stiletto heels clicking a steady beat that echoed in the empty road. She shivered in the street as a cold wind swept the first leaves of fall into the sky, streetlight making their vibrant hues beautiful in the pitch black night. Leaning, slowly, against a streetlight, she waited for her first customer of the night.

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Draco was tired, he was angry, and he was alone. The main problems with his current state of mind were revolved around a lingering memory, one he couldn't shake. So what if it'd happened almost five years ago? The damned thing wouldn't leave him alone.

So, he was going to do what he always did in this situation: get himself a cheap "date," release this horrible tension that was threatening to overtake him, and get on with his life.

That is, until you need to do it again. And again. He thought sardonically. Glancing towards the corners, he checked out the merchandise in the area. Draco usually looked for red heads, a trait that wasn't common on the street. So, when he saw a flash of red moving under a streetlight, he immediately went towards it.

As he got closer, the characteristics of the prostitute became more apparent. She wasn't tall, only about 165 centimeters tall, and she had a slender look about her. Her hair was long, wavy, and sent light refracting in hues of gold and fire-red. Draco couldn't help but think she was a perfect match.

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She'd seen him from a mile away. He was, of course, the reason she was on the streets now, but she had never thought that they would run into each other again. Fate had it out for her, though, ever since her first year at school. There was no way to escape the fact that Life wanted her to suffer. That was why, when he walked over, she decided to let him know the truth, if he asked. And, of course, he did.

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Scarlet Woman

Part One

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Draco walked faster towards the woman beneath the light. He couldn’t believe it; he didn’t want to. How could she be a prostitute? How had she escaped their world, only to become a Muggle whore?

But when he reached the pool of light, he had no choice but to face up to the truth.

“Virginia Weasley.”

She looked up at him, her face made up in vibrant colors that were supposed to make her look more attractive, but they only seemed to hide her natural beauty.

“Draco Malfoy. It’s been a long time.”

Her calm response unsettled him. He suddenly decided to get her away, get her off the streets. She didn’t belong here.

Hastily grabbing her, he Apparated off the street.

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When they appeared in his apartment, Ginny looked pissed.

“What the hell was that, Malfoy?” She tore herself away from him, nervous irritation radiating from her.

“What the hell was that?! What do you mean, what the hell was that?!” Draco, incredulous, ran a hand through his short blond hair.

“I didn’t need you whisking me off like some defenseless girl! I was fine!” She furiously moved towards the door.

Oh, no, you don’t, he thought. He walked swiftly into her path, placing his hands on her shoulders to stop her.

“You are not leaving this apartment until you tell me why you’re selling yourself on the streets.” He looked into her eyes, trying to make her realize the situation she was in.

“If I owe anyone an explanation, it is definitely not you! Now, let go of me.”

“No. I’m not letting you go until you explain, to my satisfaction, what the fuck you’re doing as a prostitute!” He turned her quickly into his kitchen, frustration fueling his movements. Pushing her down into a seat at the table, he glared at a cup as he filled it with the steaming tea he’s prepared with a flick of his wand. Ginny hadn’t even noticed him doing it. Thrusting the cup into her hands, he headed towards the cabinets that lined the kitchen walls.

Ginny stared down into her tea cup, cradling it in her hands. She was silent. Draco was moving about the kitchen, furiously slamming drawers and clanking dishes. He turned toward her, slamming his mug onto the kitchen counter.

“What the hell are you doing, Ginny?” His eyes flashed as his lips twisted in fury.

“Don’t call me that.” Ginny’s eyes rose from her cup, her expression unreadable. “You lost the right to call me that when you left.”

“Fine then, Virginia.” Her name rolled slickly off his tongue. “But you still haven’t answered my question. What were you doing out there?” He gestured at the window over the counter, and at the street beyond it.

She laughed mirthlessly. “You know what I’m doing, Draco.” She glared at him. “How often do you bring home a whore, once a month? Every night? I bet you know exactly what I was doing out there.”

“This isn’t about me, Virginia. You know how I am. You shouldn’t be surprised at my habits.” He angrily leaned against the counter and rested his weight on his hands. Ginny looked back in her tea.

“You wouldn’t understand, Draco,” she whispered, feeling the slowly rising hopelessness that haunted the back of her mind.

“Then make me understand.” Draco’s voice was calmer, defeated. Ginny heard him pour tea into his mug and sit down at the table. She felt closed in, trapped. Quickly, she stood up.

“Why should I tell you anything?” she snapped. “It’s your fault I’m out there!”

“My fault?” His eyebrows rose, disbelieving.

“Yes, your fault!” She could feel the hopelessness swelling, pushing against her careful walls. “You left me, you bastard! I needed you and you tossed me out and left. I was lost – I didn’t know what to do! Ron was barely talking to me, everyone avoided me like the plague…”

Tears streamed down her face. Seeing her final chance to escape, Ginny ran for the door, her coat still wrapped around her shoulders. Draco grabbed her arm. Ginny’s momentum swung her into his chest and he grabbed her other arm, holding her immobile.

“Virginia! Stop it!”

But she was trapped, and years on the street had taught her if she was trapped, she could be dead. She started to thrash, to try to get away.

“Ginny! It’s me, for God’s sake. I’m not going to hurt you!”

She stopped moving, her breath coming in pants and chocked sobs. She buried her head into his chest.

Draco carefully wrapped his arms around her. “It’ll be okay,” he whispered.

“Nothing will be okay again,” Ginny sobbed against him, her hands grasping helplessly at his robes.

Draco did the only thing he could do. He held her.

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It was her first night on the streets. For the most part, she’d been able to find a shelter to take her in, but tonight was different. It was Christmas Eve. Even the shelters she’d frequented had been closed. It was also the first Christmas she’d spent away from her family.

Shivering as an icy wind bit through her, Ginny looked around for a place to hide from the cold. Seeing an alleyway that was fairly deserted, she headed into darkness. Looking carefully around her, she pulled her tattered coat tightly around her shoulders, leaned against a wall near a Dumpster, and slowly fell asleep to the sound of the howling wind.

Her restless sleep was broken abruptly when a gravely voice spoke up at her side.

“First night on the street, huh?”

Ginny opened her eyes and fought the urge to scream. The man who was talking to her was dirty, his hair hanging limply in his face in clumps. His breath was rancid and smelt of some sort of strong alcohol.

He saw the terror in her eyes and laughed. “Don’t you worry, Red. I’m not going to hurt you. Just looking for a place to lie for the night.”

He leaned against the wall next to her. Looking at her, he gave a small smile. “Yup, you’re new to the streets. I can tell, been here so long it’s like I can smell the new ones. My name’s Wallace.” He put out a hand covered with a worn, fingerless glove. Hiding her revulsion, she shook it.

“My name’s Ginny.”

He smiled. “Had a daughter by that name. Sweet little thing, she was.”

He seemed to go off into an old, painful memory for a minute. Ginny let him; she knew about memories. He shook himself and looked back at her. “So, why don’t you tell me your story and I’ll tell you mine.”

He smiled again, and Ginny noticed the genuine warmth in his face. She leaned against the Dumpster again and began telling him what had sent her here in the first place.

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Draco waited for Ginny to calm down. Her hands finally loosened their death grip on his robes. He rested his head in her hair, whispering calming words into her ear. She laughed softly.

“Why are you being so nice?” She chuckled again and a sob wrenched out of her throat. “I mean, you were a bastard the last time I saw you.”

“I was not a bastard,” he protested through her curls. She shook a final time and stepped back.

“Yes, you were.” She shot him a look of old pain, then sighed deeply and wiped at her eyes. She cast a glance at the door and gave a small smirk. “I guess you’re not going to let me leave now.”

His irate expression was all the answer she needed.

Ginny looked around the apartment, her eyes landing on the leather couch and lounge chair in Draco’s sparse living room. There was a table covered with magazines and that morning’s newspaper. Along with the radio on a small table near one of the windows, they were the only things in the room besides the furniture. The floor was a honey-toned wood and a white rug sat underneath the coffee table.

Ginny walked slowly towards the couch, eyeing the expensive black leather and running a hand over the surface. Draco watched her as she continued to stroke the couch. She sighed and turned to him.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been invited into a man’s apartment for something other than sex.” She smiled and scanned the magazines. Faces smiled back at her and waved. She caught sight of a picture of Harry, who looked shocked to see her.

Quickly, she flipped the magazine over.

“You can sit down, you know.”

Ginny glanced over at Draco, who had a strange look on his face. She sat down and rested her arms in her lap. Draco moved towards the lounge chair and sat down, leaning towards her.

“You have two choices,” he said. “You can stay here and tell me why you’re doing this, or you can leave. And since I don’t plan on letting you make the second choice, you’re going to have a lot of talking to do.”

She sighed. “I don’t know if I could tell you in one night.” She looked at him through her mussed hair. “And I don’t trust you.” Her eyes were dark orbs in her pale face, and the make-up that he couldn’t help but grimace at was smeared hopelessly.

He leaned back into the chair, his arms long on the armrests. “I can understand that.” He met her eyes firmly. “But I’m not letting you leave.”

She leaned into the couch, moving her hand over it again. “Okay. But you’re going to have to tell me your story in exchange.”

He smirked. “My home isn’t enough?” She glared at him, making to stand up and head to the door. He held up a hand, stopping her. “It’s a deal. I’m going to go get you some blankets and a pillow. The couch folds out.” He stood and left the room.

Ginny watched his tall form go into another part of the apartment. He’d changed, she realized, just like she had. Five years had made him older, wiser, and definitely more handsome. The attraction she still felt for him battled with the hatred, anger, and resentment that resided deep within her heart and soul. But tonight wasn’t for the past, it was for moving forward. She wiped at her eyes again.

If Draco “Ferret” Malfoy could be civil, she could be too. She’d prove to him that, although she’d been shattered when he left, she was stronger for it. She could, and would, face whatever life threw at her now.

With her resolve mustered, Ginny waited for Draco to come back.

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Draco sighed as he searched through his meager selection of sheets. He couldn’t believe that Ginny Weasley had come back into his life. He’d made sure that she’d never want to see him again when he’d left school.

And it had seemed that his plan had worked, but here she was. It was almost like something kept drawing them together, no matter how hard they tried to pull apart. If Draco believed in fate, he might add it to that.

Finding a set of sheets that were the right size for the couch, he walked back into the main room. Ginny was still sitting where he’d left her, only her face was determined. She looked up when he came in.

“All right, these sheets are pretty clean. If you want to go take a shower or something, I’ll get the couch made up.”

She nodded, looking grateful. “Thank you. It’s been a while since I’ve had a nice shower.” She stood and held her coat out. “Where should I put this?

“Just throw it anywhere. I’ll hang it up later. The bathroom’s just down the hall, towels are in the closet next to it.”

She smiled again and walked off. Draco watched her leave.

Ginny Weasley, you are such a conundrum to me. He sighed again and started to pull the couch out.

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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

Preferred Customer Normal Preferred Customer 5 14 2003-05-31T16:50:00Z 2003-05-31T16:56:00Z 1 1622 9251 National Association of Rocketry 77 21 10852 10.3501 Clean Clean MicrosoftInternetExplorer4

Disclaimer: Not mine, never were, don’t sue. Again, Paul is my character. I know most people wouldn’t claim him, but he’s still my bastard of a creation. If you want to use him in a story, ask me first, but I’ll probably tell you yes.

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Scarlet Woman:

Part Three

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Draco ran to the door. He quickly kickedit nearthe knob, breaking through the thin, cheap wood, smashing it open.

A man, a little shorter than Draco but heavier, was kneeling over the unconscious form of Ginny.He looked up at the sound of the door breaking in.

“Who the fuck are you?” he demanded, standing up and moving towards Draco.

Draco stepped into the room. Eyeing the man, he smirked. “Someone you’re not going to forget.”

Quickly, hepunched the guy's face.The man grabbed at his nose, blood spurting onto his shirt.

“You fucking asshole,” he growled. “I’ll make you pay for that, you son of a bitch.”

He swung at Draco, who dodged the punch. The man’s other meaty hand swung around and hit Draco in the kidney.

Draco lurched back. Growling as he straightened up, he swung his leg around, knocking the man’s feet out from under him. The floor shook from the impact.

The man stood slowly, blood still dripping from his nose, though slower now. Moving cautiously towards Draco, he smiled.His grin turning into a snarl, he charged Draco, a roar ripping out of his throat. Draco quickly grabbed the man’s arm and swiftly, surely, with years of practice, flipped him. The man twisted towards Draco, trying to grab him, and landed on his side, his arm trapped underneath his body. A sickening crack shot through the room. The man curled into a ball, cradling his arm to his body.

“You broke my arm, you fucking bastard,” he moaned.

“Be glad I didn’t bust your head in, you bloody git,” Draco spat.Heheaded over to Ginny, crouching over her.

“Virginia," he murmured,"are you all right?” He checked her breathing,relaxing when he saw her chest rising, though shallowly. A dark bruise was forming on her cheek. Checking her head for any more injuries, Draco slowly lifted her into his arms, along with a nearby knapsack that had the letters ‘GW’ stitched on it in gold.

Looking at themoaning form of the man he’d beaten, Draco said softly, slowly, “If you hurt her again, I’ll kill you.”

He walked out of the room, Ginny hanging limply in his arms.

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When Ginny finally came to, she knew that she was going to feel sore for days. Her face was pounding, the blood beating a slow tempo of agony through her cheek. Groaning, she rolled over and opened her eyes. Draco was sitting next to her, nearly three inches away from her face.

She gasped. Draco jolted back, his chair tipping. He fell to the ground.

“Shit,” he muttered, trying to get up.

“Oh, Christ. I’m sorry, Draco. I didn’t expect you to be… Let me help you up.” Ginny sat up on the couch and made to help Draco to his feet. He waved her offered hand away.

“No, I’ve got it.” He cringed, his lower back killing him. Ginny noticed. She stood and placed a hand on his back. Draco flinched and moved away.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, concerned.

Draco smirked. “You mean besides the huge bruise from your ‘friend’? Yes, I would say I’m fine.” He bent down and righted his chair. Standing up, he locked eyes with her. Slowly, still smirking, he moved closer, until the back of her legs were against the couch and she was stuck.

He ran a gentle thumb over her cheek and the blossoming bruise there. She winced.

“That’s going to be pretty bad. You’ll probably want to put some ice on it.” With that, he moved away, heading into the kitchen.

Ginny idly ran a fingerwhere his thumb had beenand wincedagain when she pushed too hard. Paul had always had a strong hand, but she’d forgotten how hard he could hit. Slowly, she movedafter Draco.

When she walked in, Draco was fishing around in his freezer. He pulled out a blue cloth bag, and then wrapped it in paper towels. Ginny pulled out a chair and sat down.

“Here.” Draco passed her the small bundle. He sat down at the table and leaned his head against his hand.

“Thanks.” She pressed it to her cheek, the icy-cold bag soothing away the pain. She glanced up when she felt his eyes on her. He had a weird expression on his face.“What?”

He shook his head. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“Why are you living here, Draco?”sheasked suddenly, leaning her weight slightly on the hand holding the ice pack to her cheek. He sighed andstood up.Opening the refrigerator, he took out a can of soda.

“It’s a long story,” he said, popping it open and taking a sip as he sat back down.

“It’s part of our agreement.” Shesmiled sweetly when he smirked over his can.

Slowly sipping, he started his story.

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Draco flinched as the man next to him fell to another curse. Screams surrounded him,spells whizzed through the air, ruffling the hair of the fallen. It was dirty fighting, anger and fear and rage at everything piling together to form stronger, deadlier spells.

He didn’t know how many people he’d killed. He’d stopped counting after his first battle, where he’d killed over twenty. Icily, he shouted out spell after spell, carefully taking aim, then waving his wand. When he saw his target fall, he moved onto the next.

No one knew who friend or foe was. Black robes were worn by all, whispering through the air as they moved across the battle field. Draco had seen one man kill someone, then realize it was a friend.He had fallen to the ground next to him and cas Avada Kedavra. Draco had turned away, and then continued to fight.

It seemed like he was fighting for days when it was only hours. The killing dragged on, violence coating the field like fog, clouding everyone’s minds. When it was over, no one knew who had won; the victors, who had conquered their enemies, or the losers, who didn’t have to fight again.

He’d stumbled back to the camp they’d set up a couple of miles from the battlefield. When he found his tent, he fell onto his commissioned cot, and waited for the screams in his mind to stop. But he knew it would be awhile. It always was.

Sighing, he closed his eyes and waited for the nightmares to come.

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“After the War ended, I wasn’t able to do as much magic as I used to. I guess it was my subconscious telling me that what I’d done wasn’t worth using magic for. So, for little things like bruises I tend to use Muggle means.” He took another sip from his soda.

“But when I first got here, you made a cup of tea with your wand," she pointed out.

“There are some things that I’m willing to bend rules for.” He smiled enigmatically, stood up and left the room. Ginny watched him leave, the condensation from the ice pack seeping through the paper towels and settling on her cheek.

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Draco walked into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. He took off his shirt and looked in the mirror at the scars riddling his chest. Running a finger over one that resembled a snake, he shook his head and continued to undress. Turning on the shower, he stepped into the hot spray and sighed in pleasure from the insistent pounding on his sore back. He ran his fingers through his wet hair and let his mind wander.

Telling Ginny about the war hadn’t been as hard as he’d expected it would be. The story had rolled off of his tongue without any hesitation. It had just become words for a short time. So what if there was still more? The first step, just talking about it to someone, was enough to make his apprehensions about the entire story lessen. Lazily, he ran a wash cloth over his scarred body.

These would take just a bit more explanation, he thought, chuckling as he traced another oddly shaped scar on his left side which resembled the edge of a Hari Kari knife that he’d seen in one of his father’s trophy cases as a child. He’d gotten it during his first battle, his first scar.

Telling Ginny about these wouldn’t happen for awhile. There weretoo many stories associated with them. Too many memories that, while over, were still alive in his heart and mind. Draco continued washing, his mindturningto other matters.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Draco stepped into the living room, where Ginny was laying on the couch with a magazine. He smirked when he saw itwas the one with the article on Harry’s new Quidditch career.

“You know, it’s impolite to stare,” Ginny said, putting the magazine down. Draco smiled again.

“Yeah, and you’re a paradigm of manners?” He pulled a chair up to the coffee table.

Ginny scowled, but sat up and put the magazine away. “What do you need, Draco?” she asked, still holding the ice pack to her face.

“It’s not so much what I need as whatyou need todo. We’ve got your clothes, but what about other things. Do you still have your wand?”

Ginny shied away when he asked the question. “No," she confessed."I broke it when I left.”

Draco nodded briskly. “All right, then we’ll need to get you a new one.”

“What?”

“You’re not going back onto the streets, Virginia. I already told youthat. And you need a wand if you’re going to be doing anything in the Wizarding world again.”

“I told you, I left. Why do you think I’d want to go back now?” Ginny demanded.

“Because, it’s not up to you in this situation. You’re going to need to protect yourself and the only two things I can think of that can protect a person are a wand and a gun. I don’t have the proper license to own a gun, so we’re getting you a wand.” He looked at his watch. “It’s already nine in the morning. We’ll go to Diagon Ally this afternoon.” He got up andpulled his keys from his pocket.

“Where are you going?” Ginny asked, rising from the couch.

“Grocery shopping. I’ll be back in an hour.”

When heleft the apartment, the door locking behind him, Ginny kicked the couch.

“Damn him.” She sat down again andglared attheclosed magazine. “Damn him to hell.”

+*+*+*+*+*+

Authors Note: All right, this chapter took quite some time for me to get out. I wrote the first half (the fight scene and going back to the apartment) about 6 days ago, but I didn’t get working on the main body of the part or the end until last week. I feel like a heel for taking so long to get this out. *sigh* The next part is going to be a little easier to get written, too. And school’s almost out! Yay! Here are the thank you’s!

Americasweetie, megs, Psycho-Kitty-Purra (Yes, he is. I never said I liked the guy. *g*) HPFreekGirl, weirdsisters, Iden’s Garden, Neca, Kitkatgalie, and Emily.Hart. Thank you all for taking the time to comment. Extra strong thank you’s go out to those of you who decided to put me on your favorite authors lists. I really appreciate it; it’s definitely made my day better.

And, as always, a huge plate of fudge to my beta, Sarah. I couldn’t do it without you. And now I’m off to enjoy the homework free day I’m having and possibly start writing that part four…

paranoid

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Disclaimer: Draco Malfoy, Virginia Weasley, Arthur Weasley, Molly Weasley, Ron Weasley, Fred Weasley, and George Weasley are not my characters. They belong to J.K. Rowling and to her alone. I am using them without her permission and without hope of financial gain. If someone sends me cash for this, I plan on sending it back. Comments are appreciated, but flames are not. It’s already hot enough in Chi-town without fire being spread around.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Scarlet Woman

Part 4

+*+*+*+*+*+

Draco sighed, his hand resting lightly on the door knob. He moved his hand into his back pocket and swore slightly. The shopping list wasn’t there. Thinking back, he remembered leaving it on the kitchen counter.

Well, it looks like I’m going to just have to remember what we need. He smiled to himself. If I went back now, it would certainly kill a great exit.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Ginny picked up the magazine again. She wasn’t really that interested in reading it. The years she’d spent living on the streets had made her care less and less about the more fortunate people in the world. Besides her trying to make a living off of them, they were just pretty statues, posed beautifully for people to gawk at. Stone models of perfection; real, but distant from true reality.

The picture of Harry smiled up at her, trying to get her to acknowledge him. She remembered when all she wanted was Harry Potter to want her attention. During the summer between her third and fourth year, her crush had waned, until it was just a figment of memory. Ginny thought that she’d mourned the loss of the crush more than the never-to-be relationship she had wanted with Harry. Maybe it had had to do with Draco, back then.

She sighed and leaned back into the couch, the magazine resting lightly in her hand. Draco Malfoy, the enigma of her life. One day he was kind and generous and the next, a cold and calculating prick. So what if they had had something during school? The true nature of their “relationship”, if you could even call it that, had never been voiced or understood, at least on her end of it. Did it have anything to do with her decision to go with him last night?

She couldn’t answer that question.

Ginny shook her head. It’s just Draco, she told herself. He’s not that important to me. He’s just…

“Just not for me.” Ginny moaned, falling sideways into the couch, her arm carelessly thrown over her eyes.

“This is getting ridiculous, you know. It was a long time ago; I should be able to get over this.” She rolled onto her side. The apartment screamed Draco. Black, silver, and white. It was crisp, clean, and sterile. No feeling, no warmth at all.

“An ice castle for the Ice Prince,” Ginny said, smiling to herself. The ice pack rested gently against her cheek, the cold numbing her bruise. She remembered the feeling of his thumb on her cheek and closed her eyes when she felt that sweet rush again.

“Damn it.” She opened her eyes, stood up, and headed into the kitchen. She angrily threw the ice pack into the freezer, slamming it shut.

“I’m going to figure the bastard out, even if it kills me,” she muttered to herself. She opened the pantry, looking for something to cook.

“He’d better remember the milk,” she grumbled, grabbing a package of Ramen.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Draco hummed lightly to himself as he walked through the grocery store. Tossing in cereal, milk, a carton of eggs, and other foods, he started thinking about what Ginny might want to eat.

I wonder if she still likes oatmeal cookies, he thought idly. Suddenly he snapped himself back to reality. Long time gone, Draco.

But he grabbed a package before heading to the register.

Draco handed the clerk a couple of bills. Getting his change and grabbing the shopping bags, he headed off to his apartment. The market was only a couple of blocks from where he lived. Draco enjoyed the short walk, mostly because it allowed him to think about things. The neighborhood was quiet and the police did their job efficiently, keeping the alleyways and back routes safe. Right now, though, wasn’t the best time for Draco to be thinking.

His thoughts kept drifting to when he and Ginny had started their “friendship” back at school. He didn’t even know what else to really call it. It hadn’t been much more than taking cracks at each other, or at least that’s how it was when they started. It moved onto having heated debates on topics they’d covered in school that day, then joking around while walking around the lake. It had ended as quickly as it had started when Draco had kissed Ginny on his last night at Hogwarts.

Draco remembered that kiss, even though it was five years in the past. The way she had drawn in a breath when he’d first softly cupped her neck, the gentle brush of their lips, the way she’d looked when they’d broken apart from perhaps the sweetest kiss he’d ever had. And she had slowly, smoothly backed away, turned towards the school, and walked out of his life.

She’d tasted like cookies and cream.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Ginny looked through the apartment. She’d been there for a day and all she’d seen was the kitchen, living room, and bathroom. Entering the hallway that led to the bathroom and the rest of the apartment, she slowly nudged a door open. Inside was an easel with a half finished canvas. Other art supplies littered the room; tubes of paint lay on a counter with a sink. There were other canvases stacked against the wall across from the door. Ginny backed out again.

“Guess I know how he’s able to pay for this place now…” Walking further down the hall, she found Draco’s bedroom. It was in the same colors as the rest of the apartment, with a large bed in the middle of the room. His closet door stood open, shoes and dirty clothes scattered across the floor. There was a half full bookshelf next to Draco’s dresser. A picture frame sat facedown on a large ebony desk in the corner of the room. Ginny’s curiosity took over and she stepped closer.

She reached out and slowly tilted the frame upright. She gasped, reeling back.

It was a picture of her.

Well, more specifically, of her and Draco. She remembered asking Colin to take it for them, right before Draco’s graduation. They were smiling, laughing at some long-forgotten joke. Draco’s eyes were lit with humor, and Ginny was surprised to feel… longing to see that happiness in his eyes again.

She put the picture back and quickly left the room.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Draco shifted the grocery bags as he unlocked and opened the door. He found Ginny sitting on the couch, unhurriedly leafing through a magazine. She looked up when he closed the door.

“A little help here?” he grunted, trying to not drop the bag and get his keys back in his pocket. Ginny swiftly grabbed one of the bags about to fall. “Thanks.”

Ginny nodded graciously and walked into the kitchen. She set the bag down and started unpacking.

“After we get all of this put away, we’re going to go to Diagon Ally.” Draco pulled the milk and a loaf of bread out of the bag and put them on the table.

Ginny nodded again and brought out the package of oatmeal cookies. “So you’re still set on going?”

“I told you, Virginia. You’re going to need a wand. Diagon Ally is the only place we can go in the area.” Draco looked up to see Ginny worrying her lip. “I know you’re nervous about going, but you have to. There’s not much of a choice here.”

“I know, I know. I just… it’s been so long.” She sighed and folded up the grocery bag.

“I can assure you, it hasn’t changed much.” He picked up the cookies and put them into the pantry.

+*+*+*+*+*+

The Leaky Cauldron looked the same. Tom still stood behind the bar, slowly and methodically cleaning a mug. The patrons of the bar still sat hunched over their drinks, the air was still thick with pipe smoke and magic, and Ginny hadn’t been more terrified in her life. She felt like it was her first time entering the bar; only she’d known it before she’d been there. It was very unsettling.

Draco rested his hand on the small of her back, offering unconscious support and, Ginny noted irritably, stopping her from running out the door. When he opened the wall to the Alley, she felt her stomach drop.

It was busy. People with large packages were walking up and down the street. A woman struggled to drag her son away from the newest broom in the Quality Quidditch Supplies shop window. Teenagers ate ice cream from Fortuscue’s, while talking about the newest song by the Weird Sisters.

“I feel ill,” Ginny whispered to Draco, leaning into his hand.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be out of here soon enough.” His hand gave her a slight push towards Ollivanders.

The door opened and the bell hanging from the frame announced their entry. Mr. Ollivander walked out of the back, muttering to himself and cleaning his glasses. When he placed them on his nose and looked up, his muttering stopped almost instantly.

“Miss Weasley?” He squinted and leaned closer to Ginny and Draco. Ginny leaned back.

“Why, it is! If I recall correctly, you had a wand of oak, 13 and a quarter inches, with a dragon heartstring core. If I also recall correctly, you broke that wand almost…” He quickly counted on his fingers. "Two years ago. I don’t believe I ever expected to see you here again.”

“She’s here to get a new wand.” Draco took a step closer to her. “I believe you know something about that.”

Ollivander looked at him. “Hmm... 10 inches, ebony. Phoenix feather core. Particularly good for Transfiguration work.” He turned away from Draco after giving him another undecipherable look. “Now, Miss Weasley, I believe I have a wand much like your original that should work quite well for you.” He walked back and grabbed a dusty box off of the shelf. “Here, give this a flick. 12 and a half inches, oak, with phoenix feather.”

Ginny took the wand and gave it a quick swish. She felt the magic that was a part of her, and that had been dormant for so long, singing in her veins. But when it reached the wand, it seemed to go sour. Nothing happened.

“Hmm… Interesting.” Ollivander took the wand and placed it back into its box. “Let's try…” He ran a finger lightly over the boxes, creating a small path in the dust. “Ah, yes. This should work. 11 inches, cherry, with a dragon heartstring. Wonderful for charms.”

Ginny swished, and again she felt the magic go amiss. A lamp exploded, the shards flying through the air.

“That happens all the time. Reparo. Now, let’s try again.”

Ginny tested wands for what seemed like hours. Over and over, the wands fought against her, breaking the lamp again and sending boxes scattering through the room. She felt her heart sink deeper. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to come back, no matter what Draco said.

Time changes things. Maybe it changed me…

“Well, Miss Weasley, if this wand doesn’t work, I don’t know what to do.” He handed her a box. She opened it. The wand that sat in it gleamed darkly. It was ebony, 12 inches. She picked it up, swished, and felt magic rush through her fingers, through the wand and out. Red and gold sparks lit up the shop, spiraling through the air and floating down around Ginny. She grinned.

“Well. That’s most interesting.” Ollivander smiled. “That will be 7 galleons.”

Draco handed him the money and they left the store, Ginny fingering her new wand.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Draco had decided that he didn’t want to hang around Diagon Alley much longer. As he'd walked down the street, his hand resting on Ginny’s back, he’d felt people staring at him. Eyes followed him, creeping over his back and settling on him. They felt like unwanted caresses, running grubby fingers where he couldn’t reach to brush them away. He hoped that Ginny didn’t notice.

It wasn’t his fault that he was well known in the Wizarding world, or that he was unwanted there. He’d fled after the War, after Voldemort’s defeat, leaving behind most of what he knew. He’d come back once or twice a year, but other than that he spent most of his time in the Muggle world. That was when he’d discovered his love of art.

He’d always drawn some at school. Unflattering doodles of the Dream Team, as well as portraits of his mother, housemates, and Ginny.

He’d only drawn her once, though. It was in a sketchbook from his seventh year, tucked into a hidden drawer of his desk. He’d seen her sitting on the lawn, near the lake, working on homework. The sunlight was dancing in her hair, which was blown around her face by the slight breeze trickling across the lake. Her head had been bent over an assignment, and she looked stunning. He’d pulled out his sketchbook and drawn her, his pencil copying the subtle line of her cheek, of her neck, and of her flowing hair.

He had wanted to get rid of it at one point, but hadn’t. He still didn’t quite understand why.

“Oh, shit.”

He was yanked out of his reverie. Looking up, he saw a circle of red heads.

“Draco.” Ginny turned to face him, terror in her eyes. “It’s my family. What are we going to do?” She turned frantically back to the crowd and then looked around them for a path of escape.

“Virginia, I don’t know if they’ve noticed you. Why are you so worried, anyway?”

“Oh, Merlin. You don’t understand,” she moaned, tugging at his sleeve. "We’ve got to get out of here.”

“There are anti-Apperation spells around Diagon Alley now, so I can’t just get us out of here. We’ll just have to try to walk past them.” Draco put his hand on Ginny’s shoulder and turned her forward. “Just walk.” His hand returned to her back.

“This is never going to work,” she moaned again, closing her eyes and walking forward. Draco slowly led her through the crowd, pushing slightly on her back to redirect her path. They snaked their way through people, sliding past the throngs that filled the street.

And right into the entire Weasley family.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Ginny could suddenly feel the oppressing tension surround her. She could feel the malice hit her in a wave, suffocating her. Slowly, she opened her eyes. Her family stood in front of her. Her mother’s lips were pinched together, tension knotting her face. Her father seemed to have developed a tick in his cheek since she’d last seen him. Fred and George smiled at her from behind her parent’s backs, waving slightly. Ron was perhaps the worst to look at. His face was slowly getting to that tone of red seen only on fire trucks and bell peppers. Percy glanced in her direction, then turned and walked into a store.

“Virginia.” Her mother said, her lips pressed tightly together. “It has been a long time since we’ve seen you around here.”

“Molly, don’t start…” Arthur placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder, his eyes hard as steel.

“I’m fine, dear.” She shrugged the hand off. “Have you enjoyed your life in the Muggle world?” The sarcasm dripped from Molly’s voice, oozing into Ginny’s heart. It burnt like lemon juice in a paper cut, slowly tearing her apart. Ginny looked at the ground and fought the tears that were threatening to spill.

“Molly, please…” Arthur grabbed his wife’s shoulder again. “She made her decision years ago and we let her know how we felt then.” He again looked at Ginny, eyes cold with malice and pain.

“Dad, it’s not like she doesn’t deserve it. Abandoning her family when they needed her, living as a… as a whore on the streets.” Ron grimaced over the word, spitting it out. “She’s dirty; she’s not worth anything, at least not to me.” He turned his full anger on her. “How could you do that? To your family? To yourself? Do you even miss us? Do you miss what you had? I don’t understand you, Ginny. How could you?” His voice seemed to close up, becoming strained.

“I had no choice, Ron.” She forced the words out of her mouth, barely hearing them herself. “I couldn’t stay. And I didn’t want things to end that way, not at all.” She felt a tear slide down her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

Ron choked back a sob. “You’re sorry? You’re sorry? Do you think we care if you’re sorry? You fucked up, Gin. You fucked up royally and it’s not going to go back to normal, not for a damned long time.” He turned on his heel, and walked away. Ginny bit her lip, hard. She felt a sting of pain, and then warmth as blood leaked out around her tooth.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, then turned and walked towards the Leaky Cauldron.

Draco stared at the Weasley family, stunned.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, young man, but some things…” Arthur trailed off, finally realizing who had been standing behind his daughter. “Malfoy.”

Draco looked at the man, then turned and followed Ginny. There were some times when tact was a very good idea, and Draco felt that this was one of them.

+*+*+*+*+*+

When they got back to the apartment, Ginny sat down on the couch, feeling deflated and exhausted. She cradled her head in her hands as Draco walked up to the couch and sat down next to her.

He was silent. She could hear his breathing, small breaths in and out. It was an uncomfortable silence, but Ginny didn’t risk breaking it. She felt that if she said anything, she’d break.

Draco sighed. “I’m sorry. You were right, we shouldn’t have gone.”

Ginny closed her eyes as tears leaked from her. She felt as if her heart were breaking. A small sob escaped her lips.

Suddenly, she was drawn into a strong hug. Thick arms wrapped around her, holding her close to a firm chest. She moved her hands to the white shirt covering it, clutching it tightly. She started to sob as Draco held her tighter, whispering apologies into her hair.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Author’s Note: I apologize for taking so long in getting this chapter out. The encounter with the Weasleys was a really tough scene for me to write. I hated having to put Ginny through that, especially since I’m the only person who knows the whole story around Ginny’s leaving. I also lost the first draft of this part, so what you’re reading is nothing like the original. I really have no excuse for taking over a month to get this out, especially since school has been out for about the same amount of time. The next part is coming soon, as I am becoming more motivated to write this story. I’m hoping to get it out before the end of the month but, since I suck at deadlines, that’s kind of shaky.

Iden’s Garden, GoddessOfMars (Sorry this took so long, especially since you’re dying over there. Hopefully the next one will be out sooner), Dizzy Spacecadets, Psycho-Kitty-Purra (telling Ginny about his scars is definitely going to be hard for him, mainly because she’s connected to them. But, I won’t give more of that away ;D), Americasweetie (I love getting recognized in authors thank you’s, too), bittersweetchocolate, blackrose, XxX NaUgHtY GuRl XxX, Keita, evil*fairy (Ask as many questions as you like! There’s a lot of untold stuff in this story, at least at this point. It does hinge on the past, mainly. But, again, I won’t let more out than that.) rock::star and fierydragon (you’ll find out a bit in the next chapter.) thank you all for reviewing. It really does make me feel like a million dollars to see those 53 reviews up their. I owe it all to you guys. Thanks. :D I know a couple people were asking when I’d update, so I’ll let you all know that if you go to my livejournal (livejournal.com/users/jenni1310), you can get update information, which I post up there from time to time.

And, as always, a plate of fudge to Sarah, who really made me get my butt in gear on this chapter. I don’t know what I’d do without you. :D

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+*+*+*+*+*+

Scarlet Woman

Part Five

+*+*+*+*+*+

Draco was vaguely aware that Ginny had cried twice in the two days that she'd been in his apartment. Both times, he'd comforted her. Both times, he'd tried to ignore the feel of her hands on his chest, the weight of her head resting against his breast bone, and the smell of her hair. For Merlin's sake, she was in pain. It wasn't lust or love that sent her into his arms, merely the need to be held by another human being.

He struggled against his welling emotions. He would ignore the feelings that he'd spent years suppressing and simply be there for her. Still holding her, it was hard to keep that in mind.

You've gone this far, Draco. You can stand a little more. Just hold strong, he thought.

When Ginny stopped crying, he slowly released her from his arms. She sighed, wiped ineffectively at her tearstained face, and leaned away from him. Draco didn't know whether to feel relieved or saddened.

"Are you okay?" he asked. She nodded and sniffled.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I just need a minute." She rested her head in her hands and sighed again. "I bet you're wondering what that loving scene was all about." Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

"I'm just slightly curious."

She laughed sharply. "Then I'll have to tell you. I guess it falls under our agreement, anyway."

He felt disappointed at the idea of her not telling him otherwise. Ginny leaned back into the couch and turned to face Draco. "It started the year the War was over."

+*+*+*+*+*+

Ginny ran through the yard of the Burrow. It was a beautiful spring day, the sky was clear blue, and the sun shone down on her and the wildflowers that were scattered throughout the lawn. She loved it, the freedom she felt running. Tumbling down into the sweet smelling grass, Ginny laughed at the glorious feeling of being alive.

The war had ended merely a week ago. Harry had finally destroyed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and the Aurors had caught most of his inner circle. There were hardly any attacks on Muggle villages in the area, and there had been a very good tip from one of the many informants the Light had within the Dark Lord's regime that the remaining Death Eaters could be found at Malfoy Manor.

Of course, Ginny was happy, joyous, that the War was over. But, even though the danger was gone and the terror was ending, she couldn't sleep. Something seemed… wrong, either with her or with the world. She needed something more, but she didn't quite know what.

Looking into the light blue sky, Ginny found herself wondering if what she needed was to belong.

+*+*+

A month after the War, Ginny still found herself struggling to name the fleeting emotion that seemed to be following her around the Burrow. It nagged at her, poking at her thoughts when she was about to fall asleep, bothering her when she talked to her family, interrupting her work to slowly whisper in her ear that something still wasn't right.

It was driving her insane. She'd brought it up to Hermione, but the girl hadn't quite understood. She said vaguely that Ginny would sort it out and things would be better soon. Worrying about hazy feelings wouldn't help repair the mess the Wizarding world was currently in.

And that was another thing that Ginny didn't understand. Her part in the War, as a mediwitch, had been fast, hectic, and remained indistinct in her mind. However, at night, her dreams were filled with the screams of the wounded, the smell of death, and a voice constantly reminding her that, no matter how far she ran or how hard she fought, she would always be his.

Ginny needed to get away.

+*+*+

"Mum, I'm just going to be spending a month in the Muggle world! It's not like I'm starting to practice Dark magic or casting Unforgiveables on people."

"Don't you dare suggest such things in this house!" Molly fumed, tossing her dishcloth onto the kitchen counter. "I don't care if You-Know-Who is dead, I don't want talk of such things to go on under my roof. And living with Muggles is dangerous. You don't know enough about them, you certainly won't be able to survive an entire month with them."

Ginny sighed. "Mum, I aced every Muggle Studies class I took, I've gone into Muggle London with Hermione and Harry, and I've done fine. I know what I'm doing. If I can't do it, I'll come home." She sat down at the battered wooden table that took up the majority of the room. Her mother turned towards her, her hands on her hips.

"I just don't know, Ginny. I'll need to talk to your father about this."

"Mum!" Ginny was getting exasperated. "I already told you, Dad's fine with my living as a Muggle. He even suggested it to me when I mentioned needing a break."

Molly's lips pinched together, forming a thin line. "Fine then. You can go live as a Muggle, but only for a month and then I want you back here, with your family. I was nervous enough with the War going on, I don't want to have to worry about you a minute longer than I need."

"Thanks, Mum. I'll be fine, I promise."

+*+*+

The month she'd spent with Muggles had definitely opened her eyes. She didn't belong in the Wizarding world any longer.

The War had left scars on her, both physically and mentally, and she needed to leave the things that reminded her of it. So, she decided to leave for good, rather than a month at a time. However, breaking it to the family was harder than she thought.

"You're… leaving?" Ron sat dumbfounded on the couch, surrounded by the other Weasleys. They had been gathered at the Burrow to celebrate Ginny's return home.

"I can't live as a witch anymore. I can't stand remembering the War. When I was living in London, it just… I felt better than I have in five years. I know it's a shock, but I just can't stay."

Molly's lips tightened again. "Virginia Weasley, I forbid you to leave. You are not allowed to go back to that… that city until you come to your senses and realize that this is where you belong."

"Mum, I don't belong here anymore. I haven't felt right since the War ended, and the past month has been the greatest month of my life. I've felt normal and real and not like I'm running from the past. I have to go. I thought you'd understand!"

"I don't! It's not where you belong! You have a family, you have a life, here, with us! You are not allowed to leave!" Molly moved towards Ginny. She pulled out her wand.

"Mum, if you aren't going to let me leave, I will still get back to the Muggle world. You can't stop me. I'm not a child anymore."

"Then stop acting like one! You're running away from home, from your problems. When you behave like an adult, I will treat you like one. Now, go upstairs to your room before I say something I regret."

"Fine," Ginny spit the word out. She headed up the stairs, then stopped at the second floor landing.

"I don't know what to do with that girl, Arthur. She just doesn't understand." Molly's voice was filled with dismay, which quickly turned to anger again. "If she leaves, I will not acknowledge her as my daughter. No daughter of mine would leave her family after the horrible experiences we've been through, the terror…" The voice faded as Molly headed into another part of the house.

Ginny, resolute, walked up to her room. Underneath her bed was a small knapsack with the initials GW embroidered in gold thread. It was filled with food and clothing, as well as Muggle and Wizarding money that Ginny had saved. Taking her wand and the knapsack, Ginny opened her bedroom window, and started climbing down the ivied trellis underneath her window. When she reached the bottom, she took her wand, snapped it in two, and left the pieces on the front doorstep.

"I am no longer a Weasley or a witch." Turning her back on her childhood home, she started walking down the street, towards London.

+*+*+*+*+*+

"I didn't really think then, or now for that matter, that they'd hold such a grudge against me. Although I guess I should have expected it. My family is known for its temper." She grinned slightly at Draco, her head still resting in one of her hands. "So, what do you think?"

Draco kept his face composed. "I'm not sure what to think. I'd always seen your family as an annoying whole, with no problems. The idea that you left that safety is something I can't seem to get a grasp on just yet."

Ginny stared at him, then exhaled slowly and looked away. "I can understand why you'd say that. From what I gathered during school, your home wasn't a very... happy place to be."

Draco scoffed. "That has to be the understatement of the year. Lucius was tough on the entire household. If you put a foot out of line, you were in for some trouble. My mother tried to teach me otherwise, but I found that my father seemed to be right. It wasn't until the end of my seventh year that the idea of him being wrong first entered my mind and I started questioning my life."

Draco decided that telling Ginny that she made him want to rethink his life was cliché.

Even if it were true.

"That's in the past, anyway," he continued. "As soon as I got my head on straight, I went to Dumbledore and started working for the Light as a spy."

"I can't imagine what that must have been like for you. I could barely make it as a mediwitch. Living two lives would have driven me mad." Ginny turned towards him and swung her legs onto the couch.

"It nearly did," Draco admitted. "By the end of the war, the post-traumatic stress I was suffering from nearly drove me to suicide. I still don't quite understand what stopped me then, but I'm glad that I didn't. I rethought a lot of things."

Ginny looked shocked, and concerned. Draco brushed aside her pity.

"I didn't do it, which is the important thing. It made me look at what I'd done, and it made me think that maybe I would be okay, after some time. And I was. There are some days when I can't help but remember the War, but it isn't nearly as hard for me as it was then."

"I know how that is. After the War, I felt hopeless. I didn't realize it then, and I didn't realize it when I left home, but I didn't understand what I was going to do. I had spent five years of my life thinking about whether or not I'd live to see the next day, especially after my father’s attack in my fourth year. When I was in London, I felt so much better because no one knew that a War had just ended. I finally felt safe. Of course, I learned later that the safety I felt in the Muggle world was a façade, but during that time I was happy."

"What made you become a prostitute in the first place?"

Draco saw her face freeze as the words left his mouth. He vainly tried to pull them back, to quickly rewind the scene playing out on his couch, to stop the question that needed to be asked, but shouldn't be right now, from being let into the air. Ginny had frozen; her face had closed to him, shutting her emotions behind a carefully constructed emotional barrier.

"I... I don't think I want to talk about that right now, Draco. I'm… I’m going to take a shower." She stood shakily, her movements robotic and stiff.

"Virginia--"

She cut him off with an uplifted hand. "I'm going to take a shower," she repeated. She walked away, her back stiff.

Nicely done, Malfoy, Draco thought furiously. You're a master of tact. Talking to her had been the most natural thing to do, too, and now you've ruined it.

Damn.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Ginny shut the door of the bathroom behind her solidly and clicked the lock into place. Removing her clothes stiffly, she caught her reflection in the mirror over the sink.

Her pale skin flashed back at her. Full breasts and wide hips gave her curves that most men longed for. However, she only saw a soiled woman, a scarlet woman, who had dirtied anything that had once been good about her.

Why had she started prostitution? She couldn’t quite remember. After her money had run out and she had started living in the back alleys of London, she found that simple comforts had more worth to her. Food, shelter, and clean clothes seemed to be like gifts from God, things to be cherished and desired. And when she’d found out that those things were a privilege rather than a given, she fought to find a way to get them back.

And the women on the street corners seemed to have that. They wore clothing that was soft and new, they weren’t hungry, and they always seemed to have someone to take them home. So Ginny had approached one of them one night. The woman had looked her up and down, measuring Ginny with her eyes.

“You’ll do well, sweetheart. But you’ll have to talk to Paul first.”

Ginny shivered and covered herself. She didn’t want to remember that part of her life. If the War had been bad, the years afterwards had been worse.

Why had she done it? Because she was desperate. Because she was too weak to admit defeat and come home. Because her pride, or at least what was left of it, wouldn’t let her go back. And Ginny found that what she had thought to be a strength was really a weakness, and that depending on others wasn’t as horrible as she had thought it was at one time.

When Draco had come out of the night, his hair reflecting the light until it seemed to make a halo around his face, she had thought that her salvation had come. That, finally, she would find a place to escape her past years, because Draco Malfoy wouldn’t take her in, he wouldn’t remember anything that they’d shared. The Draco Malfoy that Ginny remembered was a bastard, self-centered and egotistical. He didn’t help others, and he’d only been “friends” with her during school because it annoyed the hell out of Ron.

It scared her that he’d changed so much. He was different, more so than any other wizard she’d seen after the War during the short month she’d stayed in the Wizarding world. He seemed lighter, but still burdened. He was an enigma to her, his emotions a confused miasma that she couldn’t even begin to sort through.

And he’d asked her what had sent her on her journey towards damnation. She knew she owed him an answer, but she didn’t think she could do it.

Turning on the shower, Ginny stepped into the warm spray. It pounded on her back, soothing her aching muscles and dripping down her chilled skin. When she began to cry again, she didn’t notice the rivulets of water sliding down her face to mix with the water sliding down the drain.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Draco could hear her crying in the bathroom. It wasn’t loud, and it wasn’t as powerful as her tears had been earlier, but each sob that he heard from her tore at his heart and made him smack himself mentally again and again. He was an ass, that was true, but he’d wanted to not be an ass for Ginny.

He was sitting outside the bathroom door, waiting for her. His back was leaning on the hallway wall, his legs spread and his arms resting on them. If he put his ear against the wall, he could hear the water gurgling through the pipes and out into the shower. If he lifted his head from it, he could hear Ginny crying brokenly.

You’re an idiot. When she gets out of there, you will apologize and tell her that when she’s ready to talk about it, she can talk about it. Don’t mention it again, keep your mouth shut, and try to fix this.

Draco leaned his head against the wall again and heard the water shut off. He scrambled to his feet, even though he knew Ginny wouldn’t be out for a couple more minutes. Waiting for the bathroom door to open seemed to take a year, but Draco knew it wasn’t nearly that long. He fidgeted, idly rubbing his ring finger over his thumb, a nervous tic that he’d had since he was a small child.

When Ginny opened the door and faced him, he didn’t know what to say. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words were caught in his throat. Ginny looked at him, waiting, then started to walk past when, after a minute, he still stood there with his mouth open. As her arm brushed against him while walking away, Draco shot out his arm and grabbed her wrist gently.

“Virginia… I…”

She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I know.” She slid her wrist out of his grasp. “I know.”

Draco felt his heart plummet. Things were going from bad to worse. He recognized that look, that face that said ‘It’s alright, I forgive you. But things aren’t going to go back to the way they were before, not unless you do something to make it right.’ He didn’t know how many women had given him that look, but, for some reason, instead of being struck dumb, he knew exactly what to do.

Draco grabbed Ginny’s arm again, slightly tighter this time. He pulled her towards him and, surprisingly, she came willingly. He took a quick glance over her face, drinking in her brown eyes, the light dusting of freckles over her nose and cheeks, the red tendrils that escaped the towel holding her wet hair up, and spoke.

“I’m sorry.”

She smiled again, and this time it reached her eyes. Draco had forgotten how beautiful her smile was up close.

+*+*+*+*+*+

To any bystander, it looked like they were a couple deeply in love. The moment that was enveloping them seemed to close out Time, Space, and Life. To them, there was nothing but the other. The man slowly leaned forward and down, towards the woman. Her eyes slid shut just as his lips touched hers. Passion then took over any other emotion and the couple seemed to drink in the other like a blessed drink of water in the heat of the desert.

To an outsider, it looked like their trip through the desert was over.

But to the couple, it seemed like the trial had just begun.

+*+*+*+*+*+*+

Author's Note: And so ends part five. I apologize, again, for how long this took to get out. I am a horrible person for making everyone wait so long. However, I loved writing this part, so I’m glad I took my time.

This part is dedicated to my friend, Sarah C., who is desperately in need of some romance. Sing it, sistah!

Iden’s Garden (I hope your keyboard gets better! My laptop had a messed up keyboard for a couple months, so I know how much of a pain that can be.), Kylie, Kitkatgalie, blackrose (that’s going to be explained in the next part or the one after), GodessOFmars, Andufeniel, Psycho-Kitty-Purra (the wand that chose Ginny was just handed to her by Ollivander. She couldn’t see what the core was by looking at it, therefore it’s not mentioned. However, I know what the core is. *evil grin*), TomFeltons4ever (I like your name!), KrystyWroth, xangelcrisisx, Deranged Elegance (I like your name, too! Very clever.), Americasweetie, and Keita, I want to thank you all for taking the time to review. Every time I get a review message in my e-mail box, an angel gets its wings and I smile. :) Thanks for all of the support so far.

And, as always, a plate of fudge to my ever patient beta, Sarah. I’m so glad you’re willing to put up with the long wait for the next part. You’re great. Hope you had fun in Lebanon, too. ;)

Bad news on the computer front, though. I’m going to be gone for a week (starting next week Friday), which means that I’m not going to get much writing done. Which means that the next part will not be out for awhile. I apologize for the wait, again. But I hope that this will tide you over for the time being. Everyone have a great end to your summer!

-- paranoid

Preferred Customer Normal Preferred Customer 2 11 2003-08-14T00:54:00Z 2003-08-14T00:54:00Z 1 1860 10605 National Association of Rocketry 88 24 12441 10.3501 Clean Clean MicrosoftInternetExplorer4

Disclaimer: Draco Malfoy and Virginia Weasley are not my characters. I am using them without permission. They belong to J.K. Rowling and her constituents. Please don’t sue me as I have a total of $12.52 to my name. Thank you.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Scarlet Woman

Part Six

+*+*+*+*+*+

He walked past her building again. Light shone out of the large window on the third story where she and that bastard lived. Oh, he knew that the guy wasn’t really that much of a bastard. He’d have done the same thing for her, to keep her with him.

But that wasn’t the point. As he began circling the block again, he felt the rage and hatred rise within him for the Demon, as he was beginning to think of him, who had taken his Angel. The Demon hadn’t understood how he felt about his Angel.

His Angel was perfect, a beauty in a world filled with ugliness and hatred. She was a beacon to everyone, telling them there was hope. And the Demon had taken her, taken her out of the world where she belonged, the world where they had lived together just fine for two blessed years.

He knew what he was going to do. He’d been planning ever since the Demon had taken his Angel. There was very little to his plan that he couldn’t figure out, and now he just had to wait.

Standing in the street, looking up at the window filled with light, he felt as though the world was soon going to go back to the way it was before. His Angel had tried to fly away, and now he was going to clip her wings.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Ginny was the one to break off the kiss. Pushing against Draco’s broad chest, she took a step back, leaving the circle of his arms. Her eyes were misted with desire and confusion.

“What are we doing?” she asked, incredulous. Draco ran a hand through his hair and decided to ignore that it was shaking.

“I don’t know.” He shifted away from her, partially to stop himself from trying to kiss her again, and to get some space from whatever it was she was stirring up inside of him.

Silence stretched through the hallway as Draco locked eyes with her. There were so many emotions flowing through him at the moment, and Draco didn’t trust himself to do anything other than try and kiss her again, or run as fast as he could. Ginny ran her tongue over her bottom lip and Draco felt his heartbeat race.

Especially if she keeps doing that, he thought. Looking for an escape, his eyes darted to the bathroom and then back to Ginny.

“I… I’m going to get a shower.” He tried to take no notice of the pause, but mentally slapped himself for it anyway.

“Oh--okay. It’s all yours.” She quickly ran her eyes over him and then walked into the living room. Closing the bathroom door behind him, Draco ran a still shaking hand over his face.

What have you started, Malfoy?

+*+*+*+*+*+

Ginny unsteadily sat down on the couch and stared into space.

What just happened in that hallway? She wondered, running an idle finger over her kiss-swollen lips. And why did I like it so much?

Shaking her muddled head, Ginny quickly looked around for something to occupy her mind, rather than the thought of Draco standing naked in the shower, water running over his lean body.

Can’t be thinking those things, Ginny, she reprimanded herself. How will you be able to sleep in his apartment if you’re thinking about that?

Grabbing for some semblance of self control, she quickly stood up and turned on the radio. After fiddling with the dial, she quickly found a news station.

Good, she thought, nothing better than news to calm raging hormones. As a report on the state of the economy rambled about the apartment, Ginny felt herself wondering about another kiss she and Draco had shared.

+*+*+*+*+*+

He looked so sad standing there. The sky was overcast, making the world hued a light grey and depressing to look at. She thought that it would probably rain, either today or tomorrow.

She didn’t quite know what had brought her out here. Gryffindor tower was warm and her classmates were celebrating the end of final exams. Today had been her last one, and Ginny was quite glad that it was over.

But she was also feeling a pang of remorse and loss, although she wasn’t quite sure why. Walking to stand next to Draco, though, she felt those feelings ebb and die within her.

He was staring out over the lake, his eyes fixed on some far away object that Ginny was sure she couldn’t see, even if she tried.

He looks so… lost, she thought.

“What are you doing here, Weasley?” he asked her, his voice shocking her out of her daze.

“I… I don’t really know, Malfoy. I just felt like this was the place I needed to be today.”

He smirked at her. “Don’t be getting philosophical on me. You know I can beat you there.”

She grinned back at him. “But I’ll always be better at transfiguration.”

He turned to face her, his smirk still in place. Ginny felt something shift when his eyes met hers. Slowly, but surely, his face came closer to hers. She felt pulled towards him, closer and closer. He reached out a tentative hand and cupped her cheek gently.

But when their mouths met, she didn’t feel anything else. The kiss was short, and gentle. Just a brush of lips rather than a kiss, she thought later. But that same something that had shifted before locked into place.

Feeling panic and… desire warring inside of her, Ginny took a step back. Draco’s eyes were dark with emotion and she almost let herself get lost in them. His hand slid from her cheek to her shoulder, then hung limply next to him. Ginny took another step back.

And another, until she turned and walked away.

She never thought of herself as a coward, but she knew that this was a fight she wasn’t going to win, no matter how hard she fought.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Now, five years later, Ginny still found herself fighting against that intangible towards Draco Malfoy.

And I can’t walk away this time. She sighed and slid deeper into the couch cushions. The black leather rasped against her skin as she tried to find a comfortable position. Finally throwing her legs onto the couch and staring at the ceiling, Ginny decided that she had to figure out why she needed Draco so much.

Her list of reasons was disgustingly short. Besides having offered his apartment to her, and taking her off of the streets, Ginny couldn’t think of anything (logically) that explained why she needed Draco.

Deciding to give into frustration, Ginny sighed again. No matter how hard she tried to deny it, Ginny felt that the inevitable truth of the situation was that she wanted to need Draco.

And that, more than anything else she had seen in her life, scared her.

+*+*+*+*+*+

He’d thought that a cold shower would be a good idea, but Draco found that he was incorrect in that assumption. All he’d accomplished was partially freezing himself and he was still, damn it, thinking about Ginny. The numerous times he’d hit his head against the tiled wall hadn’t helped in the slightest, either.

So, cold and with the beginnings of a head ache, Draco decided that he was done with his shower and that he really needed a drink. Somehow, he’d only needed a drink when he thought of Ginny. And there he was again, on the same train of thought. Growling in aggravation, he turned the water off violently and stepped, dripping, onto the floor.

Grabbing a cream-colored towel from the rack on the wall, Draco angrily started drying himself off. Rubbing the steam from the mirror, he looked at himself.

His face was twisted into a scowl, his blond hair sticking in different directions. His grey eyes were darker than normal, probably because he was so frustrated right now. His shoulders were tense, his muscles tight with repressed emotions. His scars stood out on his pale skin, littering the expanse of his chest and torso. He knew -- even though he couldn’t see them -- that they continued on his legs.

Quite frankly, he looked frightening. Trying to relax, Draco sighed, counted to ten, and decided to get dressed.

When he walked into the living room, he found Ginny lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling. He felt himself pulled towards her, and fought the attraction.

We’re like the opposite poles of a magnet, he thought, we can’t stay apart.

He sat down next to Ginny, and she lifted her legs and laid them in his lap. He raised an eyebrow in her direction, but she just shrugged.

“I don’t think we should let that happen again,” he said as he avoided Ginny’s eyes and looked at her feet, peaking out from the edge of the pants she was wearing. The toes curled, and then straightened.

“I couldn’t agree more.” Ginny sounded confident, and Draco tried to ignore the quick shot of pain in his heart.

“Well, now that that’s settled…” The sound of their voices was replaced by that of the radio. A slow jazz song resonated in the apartment, and Draco fought his desire to ask Ginny to dance.

The weight of her legs in his lap was soon removed as Ginny stood. “I’m going to start some water boiling for pasta. Is that okay for dinner, for you?”

He nodded. “That’s fine.”

She was out of the room and in the kitchen before Draco smacked himself on the forehead, but he was certain that she heard.

+*+*+*+*+*+

He couldn’t wait. His Angel was too far away and the separation was driving him crazy. His plan would still work later, wouldn’t it? Even if he used it now, the police wouldn’t be able to discover who he was.

Feeling safe in his animosity, he decided that maybe a quick replacement would be the best thing for the evening.

He found her only three blocks away from his Angel’s building. She had straight red hair. She wasn’t a perfect copy, but she would do.

Moving quietly behind her, he placed a large hand over her mouth and stifled her surprised scream. Dragging her into a pitch black alleyway, he made sure that her screams wouldn’t be heard again.

+*+*+

He pulled his pants back on and look at the lifeless body of the woman he’d killed. The rush he’d felt, the ultimate power, had given him a heady feeling, an excitement he hadn’t felt in a long time.

But it wasn’t right. This wasn’t his Angel, only a pale replacement. Disgusted, he decided that the world needed to know that this one was an imposter.

+*+*+*+*+*+

When the police found the posed and mutilated body of Melissa Paterson, the newest officer on homicide had to excuse himself to throw up in a nearby dumpster. The on-site medical examiner discovered signs of rape and that the body was most likely posed after death. The most telling signs that this rape wasn’t random were the mutilations to the body.

The word ‘angel’ was carved onto the chest and stomach of the woman and two wings were jaggedly cut into the back.

Red letters, written in the victim’s blood, spelled out a terrifying message to the citizens of the city, and also the name the press would eventually use for the killer.

“Fallen angel.”

+*+*+*+*+*+

Authors note: Yes, there is a rape/murder in my story. Yes, there’s a message in human blood in my story as well. And yes, I am quite grossed out that I have to write it. However, it’s important to the story. I apologize for the more disgusted readers. There was a warning at the beginning of the story for a reason. School starts in two weeks, so chapters are going to be coming out slower than they are now. *ducks thrown fruit and tries to ignore the groans of impatience* I apologize for the inconvenience, but I’m a busy beaver when it comes to classes and such (I’m in all of these annoying advanced ones, and I’m taking a class at the local community college), so my times are going to be a very rare commodity. I’ll try to keep getting these things out at least once a month, but I can’t make any promises.

Katharos Katrina (I’m glad you’ve started to like fan fiction! If you’re interested in better D/G fics, look at my favorite stories. There are a lot of good ones there.), Nataly (I was afraid I made him too OOC! Thanks for that reassurance.), Deranged Elegance (I have never been called J.K. Rowling before. Thank you.), Divine Miss S, Psycho-Kitty-Purra (yes, that was a D/G kiss. Yay!), draigonfire, Benjamin, black crayons, KrystyWroth, dragonsprincess, blackrose62, and xangelcrisisx, thank you all for your kind reviews! Plates of fudge to all!

This chapter is dedicated to my sister, who is thinking about becoming a homicide cop. Hopefully, she’ll be able to capture evil men like the one I’ve created… heh heh… ^_^;;

And, again, thanks go out to my beta, Sarah, who pesters me just when I need it. :D

paranoid

+*+*+*+*+*+

Scarlet Woman

Part Seven

+*+*+*+*+*+

Dinner had been a forced affair, or at least it had felt that way to Draco. He’d spent the meal trying to make small talk and had failed at each attempt. Ginny would make a noncommittal grunt, and go back to looking down at her plate of spaghetti. He scrubbed ruthlessly at the congealed pasta sauce currently adhered to the dishes and pots filling the small sink.

And now he was taking out his frustration and anger on the dinner plate in his hand, scrubbing at the persistent grime like nothing else in the world mattered. Which wasn’t the case, of course. Ginny sat in the other room, listening to the radio, and here he was, elbow deep in grimy soap water, beating a plate into submission.

She’s just too damn calm! He thought viciously.

It was enough to drive him mad.

…Or to drive him to volunteer to do the dishes.

Either way, Draco wasn’t acting normally, and it was all her fault. Sighing at the childish idea, he pulled the drain stopper and grabbed a towel sitting next to the sink. Drying his hands, he walked into the living room, ready to confront Ginny and tell her that, damn it, he wanted to talk about what was going on between them.

Of course, she ruined his plans by being asleep on the bloody couch.

His anger dissipated almost immediately. Ginny’s hair was spread out around her head like a red halo, the crimson strands blending into the black leather. She breathed in slowly, her chest rising and falling smoothly with each lungful.

Carefully, Draco sat down by her feet, and watched her sleep.

It was no wonder he’d had to live with her memory for years. Her mere presence in his life had driven him to the point of frustration so quickly that it astounded him. He’d learned in the Order that staying cool was the same as staying alive. But there was something about Ginny that just pushed his buttons, and tweaked him in such a way that the harder he tried to stay calm and collected, the more he wanted to just take her and… do something.

Lost in his thoughts, Draco was jerked to awareness when his doorbell rang. Ginny shifted and moaned in annoyance. Sleepily, she opened her eyes and started to sit up. She caught sight of him at her feet.

“Draco?”

“Don’t bother, go back to sleep.” He stood and answered the door.

The two officers that greeted him were a surprise.

“Hello, sir. My name is Officer Bricalus, and this is my partner, Officer Marcado. We’re sorry to bother you at so late an hour, but we need to ask you a few questions.”

“Sure. Why don’t you come in?” Draco ushered the two men into the apartment, though his wariness steadily grew, especially when he noticed that Ginny was edging towards the door. That wouldn't do, he decided. He firmly took her hand and tugged her onto the arm of his chair. He gestured for the men to take the couch. “What exactly do you need to talk to me about, sirs?”

“There was a murder nearby tonight. We were wondering if you’d heard or seen anything during the evening.”

Ginny covered her mouth with a hand, turning slightly pale. Draco started telling Bricalus about their evening. Ginny shifted uncomfortably behind Draco’s chair.

“I’m sorry we can’t be of more help,” he concluded, noticing the tension radiating off of Ginny.

“That’s all right. If you see anyone suspicious in the area, or notice any disturbances, please call me at this number.” Bricalus handed Draco a business card, then stood. His partner, however, remained sitting, his eyes on Ginny.

“I’m surprised to see you here, Red.”

Ginny wet her lips. “It’s not what you think, sir.”

Marcado didn’t look like he believed her. He turned to his partner.

“She's a prostitute, John.”

The officer’s calm demeanor changed instantly.

“Sir, I’m afraid that I’m going to have to ask you a couple more questions.”

Draco glared at the two men. Ginny started to get up, but he shot her a look that said not a chance in Hell. She settled, with a slump of her shoulders, onto his arm rest.

“Were you aware that this woman was a prostitute?” Bricalus took out a pencil and a small notebook. He flipped it open, waiting for Draco’s response.

“Yes, I was.” He fought back a smirk at the officers startled reaction. “However, she happens to be someone I went to school with, and I was merely helping an old friend in need.”

The officer looked like he didn’t believe Draco, either.

Ginny sighed. “I’m not selling any more, officer. My friend’s going to help me get back on the right track and off the streets. There’s nothing illicit going on.”

Bricalus hesitated, then slipped his notebook and pencil into his pocket and stood. “Then you won’t mind if we keep an eye on your apartment.”

It was a statement, not a question.

Draco nodded curtly. “No, I don't mind. But I’d very much like it if you two left now.”

He tried not to slam the door behind them.

Ginny had gone into the kitchen as the officers had left. She was facing the window, looking out on the street. She turned when he entered.

“I hate this. I hate my past, and I hate the assumptions.” She whispered, then wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stop the shivers that were moving across her skin. “I hate it.”

Draco didn’t say anything.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Pursued.

The chase was all she knew, that she was being followed down a dark street with heavy feet pounding behind her.

“You’ll never escape, Doll.” It was Tom’s voice, but it wasn’t. The terror it evoked was the same.

Ginny ran faster, and faster. Soon the world was a blur, and instead of running, she was flying. She felt the broomstick beneath her, and it wasn’t her life on the line but the game against Slytherin. She needed to win, to make that final goal.

The Quaffle was clenched tightly to her side, and she was just about to make the goal when Draco flew in front of her. She was stopped in her tracks, unable to move as his eyes locked with hers.

“I’ve got you, Ginny. You may not know it, but you’re mine.” Slowly, Draco started to shift. Eyes went from steel grey to endless black to vibrant green to deep brown. Hair went light, then dark, then darker, then a vibrant red. Slowly, they melded together, blurring and blending until it hurt to watch it happen. Ginny threw an arm in front of her face to block the light.

Suddenly someone grabbed her arm and threw her. She hit the wall that had rapidly appeared and slid to the ground.

“I told you, you stinking whore, you’re nothing. You’re mine, you slut. Don’t ever think different.”

+*+*+*+*+*+*+

Ginny bolted awake, a scream trapped in her throat. Her heart was racing and she could feel tremors shaking her whole body. Trying to calm down, she rolled off the clammy sheets and walked into the kitchen, her bare feet padding gently against the tiling. She was surprised to find Draco sitting in the darkness, a cup resting between his hands, his eyes staring into it.

She moved slowly towards the sink and to the window. “I’m sorry if I woke you.” The light from the street cast a soft glow around Ginny, and she stared out the window, wondering about what had happened only hours ago.

“I wasn’t sleeping.” She heard him shift in his chair, the cup rasp against the table softly.

The silence that moved slowly into the kitchen wasn’t awkward. It was just there, like a third person in the room, waiting for the cue to leave. But Draco didn’t say anything, and Ginny stood and looked out the window. When she heard the chair at the table scrape back, sliding against the linoleum, she was startled from the relative peace of the kitchen.

She turned, quickly, and saw Draco walking towards her. “What–”

She was cut off by his lips finding hers in the dark. A soft, tender touch that left her shaking. He kissed her slowly, quietly. Ginny tried to fight against the gentleness in his kiss, tried to fight against the tenderness he offered, and couldn’t.

When their lips parted, she felt a tear move down her cheek, and drop slowly onto the kitchen floor. With no words spoken, Draco understood and held her. He dropped his head into her hair, and held her safe.

A soft thank you was all that was said for the rest of the night.

+*+*+*+*+*+

When Draco woke up in the morning, he was startled to find himself lying on the couch with Ginny spread across his chest. As his memory of the night before returned, he simply watched as Ginny breathed in deeply, sleeping soundly for, perhaps, the first time since he’d brought her here.

I wonder why she can’t sleep, he thought idly, twirling a strand of her red hair around his finger. He might ask her later, but right now he was simply enjoying the feel of her body on his. So what if nothing had happened that night? It had been a long time since he’d had a woman curled up with him, especially one he cared for.

Maybe the past isn’t as easy to escape as I thought. Draco continued to twirl the strand of hair around his finger, closed his eyes, and found himself looking back on his life.

He’d never been one to express emotions besides scorn and disdain. He had been a bastard when he’d started school, and he was still a bastard when he’d left it. But something had tempered it, and that thing was lying on his chest, asleep.

There was something about Virginia Weasley that he couldn’t ignore. During school, he’d gone out of his way to annoy her, to make her life a living hell, and he’d done a damned good job of it. But somehow, he’d formed a friendship that centered on their fighting. And when he’d left school, he’d been changed enough to talk to Dumbledore and join the Order of the Phoenix.

He’d learnt a lot during the War. That the Death Eaters were cowards who were killing in the name of hypocrisy, that the Order was trying to stop the world from falling apart, and that Virginia Weasley would save your life, no matter which side you were fighting for.

He’d seen her, once, on a battle field. She’d looked like an angel, saving those she could. Making the passing easier for those she couldn’t. Her hair had been tied up, and her white healer’s robes were stained with carnage. It was the first time he’d seen her since he’d left school, and he had been impressed.

After the war, he started painting. It had taken almost two years for him to get anywhere with his art. At the time, there hadn’t been much call for emotionally unsettling pieces like his. Vivid colors, vague shapes, and an unconventional use of perspective had brought in a younger crowd, and had made him some money. But now, he only painted for himself.

And, sometimes, for his past. For Ginny.

But as she started to slowly wake up, he decided that she didn’t need to know that.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Authors Note: I am really sorry for the long wait on this chapter, and I really want to thank you all for being so patient with me. I’ve been working on this on and off since the last update, but I haven’t had a whole lot of time to sit down and just write. School’s pretty hectic right now, which is usually what happens at this time of the year, but I’m going to try and make myself write at least once a day so I can keep this moving at a quicker pace. In the meantime, I’m going to act like a kid with their hand caught in the cookie jar and look chagrined. *sheepish grin*

Fanfiction.net:

Thanks to Slytherin Fox, SarkLover, Wizzabee, dream-me-up-a-toaster (where did you come up with your name? And thanks for the puppy banishing ^_^), ilovedraco, unperfection (because it’s a better plot device to use scars than to have a dead Draco… lol), Shellbert, Kavi Leighanna (*glomps* thanks) , Debbie, number1chick, Jade Summers, GodessOFmars2, Ginny* (well, you might be confused by the ending because it’s not the end, just the last chapter; Keep reading, I’m not done just yet!), black crayons, xangelcrisisx, MeteorLight8, Neni Potter, glitterfairyxoxo, rukki, and fyrechild. I appreciate all of your comments. It’s you guys that I write for.

Portkey.org

Thanks go to Edana, dave gerecke (well, it’s still not finished, but there’s at least an update…), syvixxie, PeachBlossom92, Cute Sleeper (he couldn’t have killed her, he was with Ginny when the murder happened. Sorry to burst any bubbles…), Enter Name, elle, Undone, Kirixchi, kimmaree, ~*~Hermione~*~, laila, Ezmerelda (I fixed that over at ff.net, and I’m about to do it here. Thanks for catching it ^_^;) , prue1912, dracosgurl159, mp, knzelovesblack, Emily, Enter Name #2 (hey buttermallow! Glad you like this, I’ll have to make sure you find out about the update!), mary_sintome, Awen and Anasis, Liz21 (you have the same name as my sister! Cool…), and Rainpuddle13.

And, again, thanks go to my beta, Sarah. I don’t know how you managed to put up with me for five months before I even gave you anything to look at. You rule. And I hope those pinkies of yours feel better soon!

Dear readers,

I'm really sorry to do this after you've all left so many wonderful comments, but I will not be continuing with Scarlet. The story has been a struggle for me to write since Chapter 7, and after reading The Half Blood Prince, I find I don't have the inspiration to write Harry Potter fanfiction anymore. Thank you all for reading and enjoying my story.

paranoid

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*sigh*

Okay, so there's been a lot of people complaining about Scarlet being discontinued. And there have been a lot of questions about why, and if I'll write one last chapter explaining everything for you.

Well, here's sort of what you've been asking for.

I felt that, after reading The Half-Blood Prince that fanfiction, in general, was a pointless thing. The plot line of the Harry Potter series is so distinct, and so beautifully crafted that, to me, messing around with the characters, especially after the revelations of HBP, is like sacrilege. It seems wrong.

However, Scarlet doesn't seem to want to let me go. I still have the story in my head, and I still have the plot line stirring up ideas. So, I'm going to finish it, if not for you guys who have been with me since I started writing and those of you who have just joined in, but for me and for the characters I've changed and created out of JKR's dynamic world.

This is going to be my last piece of HP fanfiction, though. Don't expect more from me after I finish this. HBP made me realize that, as good of a writer as I could become, I'm never going to be able to touch what JKR has started with her books. So, I'm going to finish this up, and say goodbye to all of you. Thanks for dealing with me the past two years, and I hope you enjoy how this whole thing wraps up.

paranoid

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+*+*+*+*+*+

Scarlet Woman

Part Eight

+*+*+*+*+*+

Ginny opened her bleary eyes and met Draco's. She blinked in surprise. There was something about his expression that she couldn't pinpoint, and by the time she was awake enough to understand it, he'd closed off that part of him.

“I see you've gotten tired of drooling on me, Virginia.” Draco smirked.

“I wasn't drooling. I never drool.” Ginny quickly brushed her hand across her cheek. She tried to not notice the hand that slid out from her hair. It was a little harder to ignore where she was, though.

“Why are you on my couch?” she asked, trying to remember what had happened after the kitchen.

Draco raised an eyebrow.

“Your couch?”

She just glared at him as she got up. Ginny couldn't match the sarcastic man brushing wrinkles out of his shirt with the one who'd held her last night.

All night, it seemed. She blushed, and started towards the bathroom.

What had she been thinking? Sleeping on Draco? She pushed back her hair, found a curl, and pulled it into her vision. Sighing, she brought her hand back down.

No reason to let your sensibilities go, just because he was playing with your hair. C'mon, Gin, you know better than that.

She almost wished she didn't.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Moving silently in the inky blackness of night, he wanders closer to the building. Light strikes his face, finding the creases where his less-than-pure grin has carved cruelty. He doesn't know he's insane, doesn't acknowledge the possibility. All that matters now, to his tormented mind, is the hunt, the satisfaction, the feel of blood running between his hands. He revels in the destruction.

Slinking into the alley, he waits. His Angel will come. She always comes just when he needs her. Just like before.

+*+*+*+*+*+

The newspaper was sitting on the kitchen table. A crime scene, with yellow tape turned grey by newsprint surrounding a pool of inky black blood, blazoned across the front page. A sick message scrawled across the wall with the same gruesome stain. Ginny felt sick to her stomach. The article, after brushing over the details of the poor woman's life, mentioned the previous murder and the connections. A serial killer on the loose, the writer proclaimed. A bane on the city.

She could feel the accusing eyes of the victim, staring out from the front page, as she cleaned the apartment.

Why me?

+*+*+*+*+*+

Quick brush strokes against rough canvas. Emotions transferred into paint, into shapes and lines and blurs. Draco was in a trance, ignoring the outside world entirely. It had been too long since he'd last had a chance to paint, to let his emotions go. Virginia was driving him up the wall, and this seemed the best way to get rid of his pent up feelings.

Other than throwing her onto his bed and...

Stop thinking like that, Malfoy, he angrily scolded himself. You know that's not a possibility.

Rising from his stool, Draco stretched and decided to take a break. He'd been working on the painting for most of the day, and his stomach was feeling the strain. Setting his palette down on the countertop, he rinsed his brushes, and closed the door to his studio.

He found Virginia sitting at the table, staring at the newspaper.

“Anything interesting?” he asked, trying to look over her shoulder.

She jumped, upsetting her chair and sending it clattering to the floor. Clasping a hand to her heart, she turned to glare at Draco.

“Don't do that. Ever. You scared the life out of me.” She ran a shaky hand through her hair.

“What's wrong?” Draco asked, moving closer. She shook her head, then gestured to the paper lying open on the table.

“These murders... I don't know, they're getting to me.”

“Murders? I thought...”

“There was another one last night.” She exhaled slowly. “Maybe it's because they're so close to here, or that they all have red hair, but I'm... I'm nervous about it.”

Draco grabbed Ginny and pulled her close. She stiffened at the contact, then relaxed into the hug.

“I'll keep you safe, Virginia. There's nothing to worry about.”

She nodded again his chest, her hand clenched into his shirt. When she looked up, into his eyes, neither was sure about what they saw.

Later, Draco wouldn't be able to tell who started the kiss, or why, but soon reasons lost their meaning against the pull of long-lost desire. Stumbling against each other, frantic for the touch of skin to skin, they moved out of the kitchen, tearing at each others clothing, and fell, together, onto the barely made up couch. When Ginny finally got Draco's shirt off, she couldn't help but gasp at the collection of scars on his body.

“Draco, wha..?”

He kissed her, hard.

“Not now.”

Frantically, his hands roamed over her body, sliding beneath her shirt and sending fire through her veins. Moaning at the contact, she allowed her hands to run over his muscled shoulders, back, sides. She pulled away, gasping for air. Sliding her shirt over her head, Draco nibbled a path from her neck to her breast, lightly nipping her through her bra. She jerked off the couch, his name a half-shouted oath. He grinned and continued tracing a path down her body with his tongue.

Ice-cold heat seared through her veins. Her blood was pulsing fire, aching for completion that only Draco could give her. Restless, she frantically reached for him, pulling him over her. Her hands fumbled at his belt. He swore, then reached to help. When nothing separated them but skin, Ginny sighed and stretched against him, enjoying the sensation of full body contact. Draco growled, then claimed her mouth in another bruising kiss.

Years of separation, and days of denied need flared between them, sending them both into the darker side of sanity. Draco pushed into her hard and fast, and Ginny could only revel in the rapture, the pleasure, the pain. It seemed like no time at all when her body tightened, then snapped. Pleasure ripped through her, tearing away years of darkness and pain, until all that was left was her and Draco. Sobbing his name, she pulled him closer, urging him on. He sighed her name into her neck, then found his own release in her arms.

Gasping for breath, listening to his rushing heart beat in time with hers, Ginny closed her eyes and cried.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Draco cradled her in his arms, this beautiful woman who'd turned from lover to child in seconds. He held her gently as she burrowed closer to him, struggling to come to terms with what had happened, how to live with a world that had been rocked to its core. He didn't know what it meant, but Draco knew something had changed.

He loved her.

Pulling Ginny tighter to him, he knew that, in loving her, he'd lost before he'd known the fight had begun.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Ginny woke in Draco's arms. This time, unlike yesterday, he was still asleep.

Had it only been yesterday? She wondered, tracing his features with a gentle fingertip. Slowly around his kiss-swollen mouth, over his lightly stubbled cheeks, trailing over his delicately arched brow. Somehow, in a day, he'd become more precious to her than anything. Suddenly, just looking at him was enough to make her smile. She kissed him lightly, enjoying the feel of his sleep softened mouth against hers. She nibbled on his bottom lip, wanting to tease a reaction from him. When his mouth finally moved against hers, she opened her eyes to find his sleepy grey ones staring at her.

This time, the loving was gentle and unhurried. The passion was still there, only banked under some unknown emotion Ginny couldn't place. Still, she found that whatever feeling was coursing through her veins didn't matter as long as Draco was the cause.

It was a liberating and frightening thought.

+*+*+*+*+*+

When they lay together afterwards, gently breathing, faces so close that their breaths mingled, Draco couldn't help but think that he'd do anything to keep Ginny here, in his arms. He'd ached for years to have this, this fierce, all-consuming need finally met and returned. He'd wanted her for his own, and now that she was finally his, he didn't know what to do.

Dreaming hadn't given him any ideas on how to live with the aftermath, had only made him spend sleepless nights yearning for her touch.

He looked, just looked, at her. She was idly tracing his scars, one arm casually bent under her head.

He could tell she wanted to ask about them, to ask how he'd gotten so many, and why. Yet, he knew she wouldn't, not right now, not while this thin layer of contentment and rightness blanketed them against the outside world. Asking of his past, of his pain, would shatter their gentle world and send them crashing back to reality.

Draco had never been one to hide from his responsibilities, but right now, he wouldn't do a thing to challenge the peace they'd found together, in each others arms.

Right now, all he wanted to do was revel in the astonishing reality of her.

+*+*+*+*+*+

After finally dragging themselves out of bed, Draco and Ginny spent the afternoon dancing around each other. The charged tension that had been hanging in the air the whole time she'd been in the apartment had changed subtly, but enough that neither knew how to react. Casual glances changed to heated exchanges, and neither knew what step to take next.

Dinner started awkwardly, with Draco and Ginny both trying to set the table. After bumping into each other countless times, Ginny helplessly grinned and laughed.

“This is ridiculous. We're grown adults, we can handle a little casual sex.” She laughed quietly again, then went silent. Draco stood tense, his jaw clenched tight, and a nerve twitching in his neck.

“Casual sex?” The question hung in the air, a demand and a promise in two words.

“Okay, not casual.” Tension hung in the air, tightening around Ginny until she felt like she couldn't breathe. She set the plates in her hands down heavily, then pulled a chair out from the table and cradled her head in her hands.

She heard Draco set down the silverware, then slump against a wall. Silence wrapped around them, until he sighed.

“I don't know what it was, Virginia, but it was…” He trailed off, sounding as confused and lost as she felt.

“Yeah.” She grinned slightly, her head still in her hands. “That's about it.”

“Should I… do you want me to go, give you some space?”

She jerked her head up. “No! Of course not, why would you…”

She stood and walked over to him, grabbed his head in her hands, and kissed him hard. He sighed into her mouth, and pulled her to his chest, his hands tightening in her shirt. She pulled away slowly.

“Right now, your leaving would be a very bad idea.” She kissed him again lightly.

Dinner went a lot smoother after that.

+*+*+*+*+*+

He walks underneath her window. He knows that she's still up there, with him. The slut, the cock-hungry whore. His hands tighten into fists, his dirty nails biting into his skin, cutting through. He winces at the pain, then forgets it.

She can't do this to him any longer. Soon, she'll get her punishment. The substitutes were never enough anyway. He knows where she is, all he has to do is wait.

He's been waiting for a long time, and, after all, practice makes perfect.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Author's Note: Well, I have to say that this chapter was, perhaps, the hardest one for me to write. Ginny and Draco and the killer just didn't want to work with me here. I don't know how long it took for me to get this out, but I do apologize for the wait. And the little hiccup in between. ^_^; There's going to be two more chapters, I think. There's some resolution I need to make between Draco and Ginny, and then it's time to finally unmask the killer. There'll be extra points to those of you who guess his identity. :)

Anyway, thanks as ever to my beta, Sarah. You've put up with a long wait, I have to say, and I really owe you. You've been a great beta, and an even better friend.

And now, you wonderful readers.

Fanfiction.net:

Emerald Eyes 72, amy, Erin Hatfield(I sort of did abandon it… Don't worry, I'm going to finish it.), candycane_123, DnG4eVer, badger-dude, MorbidTruth (thanks! I'm glad you like it.), dracoshotty, Larissa (I'll make sure to keep you up to date), bigreader, Crazy phyco girl, Faded Memories (I'll see if I can work a scene in, but I'm not sure I want to go into their past together too much. We'll see how it goes, though), Shadowed Rains (Thank you so much! That means a lot to me.), dragon_hunter (sorry, I was driving a lot of people insane with my update schedule…), Lil' Trindle, Iced Faerie, titchy00, GodessOFmars2 (sorry to leave you all hanging. This chapter just didn't want to get written. I think the next ones will go a lot faster, though, so keep checking.), Chelline (it's not quite over, I promise), Lord-of-all-the-Cheesesticks, CarrieDragon (if you loved the fluff in the last chapter, I'm sure you enjoyed this one, thanks for commenting.), maz, Icy Lullaby, Sigma1, deity of death1, Americasweetie, Wizzabee, SarkLover, and Acontiae Malfoy (I'm going to finish this, thanks to you and other people commenting to the same effect, and also to get this story out of my head. I hope you enjoy the rest of it, and thank you for commenting.)

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DeeCohen (I'm glad you liked the chapter, but I'm not sure what part you're talking about with Draco being a bastard. Clue me in, and I'll do my best to get it cleared up.), Anonymous, MrsDanielRadcliffe, Alorkin, brittanytutt, Varlese Crowe, christina, Alorkin (well, damn. That throws a wrench in my story. Lol… I'm going to let it be for now, and pretend that, in my world, it isn't. Thanks for the info, though.), sexyslyth, Anonymous (Harry is definitely not going to be in this fic, hate to burst your bubble. Though I love the guy, he doesn't really have a place in this story.), Draco'sbabe137, Nice, jess131346 (I'll go fix that problem, thanks for letting me know), Ailleann (again, thanks for the heads up), RavenclawChrissie, Kitty_Pryde, Ives, laila, sexytexy (I love getting really long reviews like yours, so thank you for taking the time to comment.), Lady Raven, goddess30103, Liz21, sage69, Rosepetal (I didn't mean to frighten my readers that much! Lol… Thanks for the comment), Mrs_Felton, Rainpuddle13 (sorry it took me so long to get out the next part. Really, I feel horrible for taking so long to get it written. I hope you enjoyed the newest part, and I hope you enjoy how it ends. Thanks for your thoughtful comment.), Aurora North, Cute Sleeper, janet, dracosgurl159, kimmaree, livy, tracie1976, DeeCohen, ChelsE.E, Alicia, tomlover,

down2earthangl85, Anonymous, and MrsDanielRadcliffe.

You guys are what make me want to continue writing this fic. Thank you all for taking the time to comment. Plates of fudge to all.

Real quick side note: Lots of people (and by lots I mean, like, one or two) have mentioned to me that Ginny's real name isn't Virginia, but Ginevra. Honestly, I've know this since I posted the last part. I don't like the name Ginevra. So, because I started this story believing Ginny was a Virginia, and I like it better, I'm not switching over.

Expect updates soon (though I say this every time I update), as I have to leave for college in less than two weeks, and therefore have to do a lot of stuff soon, and I want to get this done. I hope you all enjoy how this ends, it's going to be a shocker, I promise.

Paranoid

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+*+*+*+*+*+

Scarlet Woman

Part Nine

+*+*+*+*+*+

Draco woke up with Ginny in his arms. Hardly believing that she was finally in his bed, he closed his eyes and slowly opened them again.

Yup, still there.

He felt like grinning, like shouting his happiness to the world, like dancing in the streets. He also felt like taking Ginny and putting her into a tower where nothing could ever hurt her again. He knew he'd do neither.

He gently kissed her forehead, then slid out of bed and headed towards the kitchen. Stopping by the front door, he quickly grabbed the paper. He glanced at the headline as he gave the door a soft shove.

THIRD BRUTAL MURDER IN A WEEK

An appropriately gruesome photo was splashed underneath the bold print. The crime scenes of the three murders combined in one picture. The scenes looked almost identical, the only difference in the placement of garbage in the alleyway. Grimacing at the public's love of death, Draco threw the newspaper onto the kitchen table. He quickly made a pot of tea and sat down.

Sighing, he started reading the article.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Ginny snuggled into the soft sheets, searching for the warmth of Draco's body. When she found his side of the bed cold, she blearily opened her eyes and looked around. Sighing, she threw off the covers. She hastily threw on one of Draco's shirts and left the bedroom.

She found Draco in the kitchen, a cup of tea held forgotten in one hand, the day's news paper in the other. Smiling, she grabbed his cup and took a sip. He seemed to jump out of a trance. She grinned wider.

“Good morning.” She took another sip.

“Good morning to you, too.” His gaze swept her from head to foot. “You look better in that shirt that I do.” He grinned at her blush.

She sat in his lap, tea carefully held so as not to spill. “What are you reading?” She glanced at the headline and stopped smiling. “Oh, god.”

“I know.” He paused. “Virginia, I don't want you to leave the apartment alone from now on, okay? It's not…it's just not safe.”

Numb, she nodded, taking in the composite picture. She felt like the floor had dropped out from under her.

“Why?” She whispered it, setting the tea on the table and running a hand over her face.

Draco set the paper down and pulled Ginny into a loose hug. “I don't know, love. I wish I did.”

Closing her eyes, she breathed in his scent, feeling oddly comforted by it. She kissed the line of his jaw and stood. “I'm going to get a quick shower and get dressed.” She ran a hand through her tangled hair. “I'm a mess.” A self-deprecating grin quickly flashed across her face, then disappeared.

Draco grinned and picked the paper up again. “I'll still be here.”

As she walked back towards the bathroom, Ginny wondered why that simple statement meant so much to her.

+*+*+*+*+*+

When Draco finally heard the bathroom door close, he frowned and set the paper down. Something had to be done about these murders, and it didn't seem like the police had any leads. The article said that the victims seemed unconnected, yet the crimes similarities seemed to indicate that the murderer had a personal connection to the victims. There was a number for a tip line, asking for anyone with a suspicion to call the London police force and pass on the information.

Sipping at his cold tea, Draco couldn't help but shudder at the brutality of the killings. He'd seen some bad stuff during the War and as a Death Eater, but the amount of blood in each of the photos seemed to show that the mutilations on the bodies were deep, and done while the victim was still alive.

Turning his mind away from the disturbing article, Draco sat back and closed his eyes. Ginny's face played against his lids. He thought of what was happening between them. He already acknowledged his feelings for her, futile as they were, but he didn't know what to do with them. He felt like a weight was pressing on his heart, bearing down on him every minute he didn't say something. It was unnerving, this need and lust and love he felt for Virginia Weasley. It was indescribable and so new to him that Draco wasn't sure if he was sane or not.

I have to tell her, he thought. It terrified him, but he had to let her know. Now or never, Malfoy. Now or never.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Feeling lighter than she'd felt in years, Ginny walked back into the kitchen to find Draco standing over the stove, a plate with eggs and bacon sitting at the kitchen table, and another on the counter next to the stove. Ginny looked, dumbfounded, at the food.

“You made me breakfast?” When Draco angled his head to look at her, a grin plastered across his face, she didn't know what to say.

“I hope you like your eggs sunny side up.”

She sat down at the table, a noncommittal murmur her answer. She cautiously ate a bite, then dug in.

“This is delicious, Draco. When did you learn how to cook?” She nibbled at the bacon.

“Oh, somewhere between graduating and now. It seemed like a good skill to learn.” He slid cooked eggs onto his plate, turned off the stove, and joined her at the table. “Did you sleep well?”

She nodded and swallowed. “You've got a very comfortable bed. Much better than the couch.” She felt Draco's heated glance and grinned.

They spent the rest of breakfast just talking. Small talk turned to discussion of politics and current events, which turned into a small argument over a new law. Then sports, movies, music. It seemed to Ginny like they only talked for a short time, but it turned into an hour, then two, then three. Their empty plates were forgotten on the table, the tea long since finished. It was peaceful, and homey, and right.

When the phone rang, they both jumped. Ginny placed a hand over her heart. Draco grinned at her and answered.

“Mhm. Yes, I understand. No, that shouldn't be a problem. Is there anything else you need me to bring? No? Okay, I'll be over later tonight. Yes, seven-thirty is fine. I'll see you then. Bye.” He hung up and ran a hand through his hair quickly.

“What is it?” Ginny stood, slightly confused by Draco's sudden change in mood.

“Oh, it's nothing. I just have to bring over a painting to a buyer's apartment. It's only a few blocks away, so it shouldn't take too long.”

Ginny quickly cleared the table, and then placed a quick kiss on his cheek. “Would you mind if I came with you? I've been kind of interested in your work."

Draco seemed to light up. “Really? I didn't think you'd find it all that interesting. Let me get dressed, and I'll take you to my gallery.”

“You have a gallery?”

He just grinned.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Ginny had never been a big fan of art, but there was something about Draco's work that seemed to call to her. The field of flowers, painted in line green, pure white and bright yellow. The storm, a riotous field of blues and purples, with splashes of red lightening. They all seemed to show something of Draco, his joys and his pain. There were a few realistic portraits. One was clearly of his mother, her white-blond hair held up in a tight knot, a string of black pearls contrasting with her fairness. She seemed so aloof, so distant, yet the painting made you want to please this woman, to make her seem more real.

The other portrait was of a young woman. She was dancing in a field of blood-red roses, her red hair flying around her, the white dress she was wearing skipping against her legs. She was holding a rose in her hand, the other idly plucking a petal. Her lightly freckled face was flush, her grin teasing.

Ginny couldn't look away. When Draco's hand touched lightly on the small of her back, she started.

“It's… it's beautiful.” She smiled up at him. “Who is she?”

“It's you.” He had a wry smile on his face when he looked down at her. “It was my first painting.”

She felt pole-axed. She looked again at the painting, looked closer. “Why me?” she asked, hardly daring to breathe.

He smiled again, and leaned down to kiss her softly. “Virginia, it…”

A chirping interrupted whatever Draco was about to say, breaking the mood. He scowled, and reached into his pocket. Flipping open his cell phone, he walked away angrily.

Ginny felt deflated, like she'd been cheated out of something vastly important. She looked again at the title of the painting, and felt the bottom of her stomach drop out.

My Inspiration

+*+*+*+*+*+

He can barely believe it. Today is his chance. There is one more he has to deal with, one he saw last night and knew he had to take care of. And then, then he'll be free to finally catch his Angel. He knows it's soon, that he's been going fast, but in his clouded mind, he barely recognizes the danger. After all, he's been killing for years. They'd never noticed before.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Seven came quickly. After dinner, Draco grabbed two paintings from his small studio, and passed the smaller one to Ginny.

“This one is for you. You can open it now or later, but I want you to have it.” He smiled, then tucked the other painting underneath his arm. “You still want to come with me?”

“Of course.” She smiled. “Let's get going.”

They left the apartment in companionable silence. About halfway through the trip, Ginny twined her fingers through Draco's, smiling at the slight confusion reflected in his eyes. He squeezed her hand gently, letting their hands swing between them. Warmth spread up Ginny's arm from his hand, moving into her heart and finally shedding the last of her dark memories in the bright hope of love.

I never thought I'd feel this way, she reflected, though I guess I've always felt like this. How odd. She smiled at herself. I'm in love.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Draco's buyer, John Dedick, was a warm, jovial man. Normally his personality grated on Draco, but his day with Ginny had been nothing less than perfect, and he actually enjoyed talking with the man. John was happy with the piece, one he'd commissioned a month or two ago, and wished Draco luck, winking at Ginny, who was looking at other pieces of art in John's studio apartment.

When they left, Draco felt like nothing in the world could go wrong. He was with the woman he loved, he'd had a great day, and the weather was unseasonably warm. His hand was clasped in Ginny's, and he was smiling. He slowed, waited for Ginny to look at him, confusion written all over her beautiful face, and kissed her underneath a street light.

When they parted, a dreamy smile stole over her face, lighting up the night.

“Draco, I…”

A scream came out of a nearby alley, then was silenced. Shocked widened Ginny's eyes and a sick sense of dread stole through Draco's soul, chilling his blood.

“Oh my god.” Ginny whispered. Before he realized what was happening, she let go of his hand, turned towards the alley where the scream had come, and took off.

“Shit!” Draco, fear a tight fist in his throat, ran.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Author's note: This was a very “quickly” written chapter. I quite enjoyed the fluffiness of it all. Happy D/G stuffs. And there's only one more chapter left. Time to meet the murderer. *evil laugh*

Thanks again to my wonderful, god-like beta, Sarah. You're a gem. :)

Readers, I love you all. Plates of fudge and the like.

Fanfiction.net

sw33t intoxication, Odette, numbluver, Michellebelle, Defective Ice Cream, skygazing, Felton118, underthetuscansun, Dark Angell908, shinywriterindarkness, and bigreader

Portkey.org

DeeCohen, ChelsE.E, Alicia, tomlover, down2earthangl85, Anonymous, MrsDanielRadcliffe, Anonymous, harry n hermione, DracoObsessed17, Anonymous, Zaiamara, Anonymous, Anonymous, tomlover, AngelEyez, blue_flame878, MrsChadmMurray11, Alorkin (I explained a lot of what you're asking about in previous chapters, so a quick re-read might not be a bad idea. She hooked up with a pimp because I didn't know prostitution was legal in Britain when I started writing this, and I went off of American law. As for the back story, it may or may not be explained in greater detail, but there are sections in previous chapters that explain some.), Vickie, monagy3, Anonymous, and polimitist

I've got lots stuff to go do, but expect another update soon, I promise. There's not much left. :)

paranoid

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Scarlet Woman

Part 10

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They always seem to find him, he thinks. Somehow, they know where he is, and they know they need to be punished, and, oh, how he punishes them. Just like the first, just like the second, just like all of them. He knows how to handle the whores, how to remove their evil taint in the air, in the ground, in the city. He learns, he practices, and he does his job. And he's so good at his job.

This one stumbled across him while he was sleeping. Just fell into his lap. And he knew. He could smell the booze and the sex on her and he knew she was another one. Now, though she's passed out, he's teaching her the lesson that they never learn.

He wipes blood from the blade, brings it down again and again, smiling all the time.

+*+*+*+*+*+*+

Air rushing out of his lungs, Draco kept his eyes locked on Ginny's hair, a red beacon in the night. He was catching up, gaining ground he'd lost when she'd suddenly taken off. His fingers brushed against her arm, briefly, and then she turned the corner.

She stopped so quickly, Draco had to dodge to the side to avoid running her over. He looked at her, surprised at the whiteness of her face, the terror reflected in her eyes, and then he looked down the alley.

The darkened, crouching silhouette of a man was haloed by a street light. Though he couldn't see the man's face, the naked and bleeding body of a woman was highlighted in the night. The red stain spreading from the body and dripping from the man's hands made Draco gag.

“Oh my god.” The words were whispered, but they seemed to echo in the alley, bouncing off the walls, ricocheting through the silent night. The man turned, light glinting dully off of a blood-stained knife.

“You've come.”

+*+*+*+*+*+

Ginny was frozen in place. She saw the man's lips move, knew he'd said something, but couldn't hear him over the rushing blood in her ears. She felt her body shaking in fear and disbelief, felt the tremors race up her back, down her arms, tremble through her soul.

She knew him.

Not just a passing knowledge, either. She had spent years with him, years learning how to survive on the streets. And here he was, her supposed guardian angel. A killer, a murderer, a madman.

“Wallace?” She wanted to shout it, but the words were a gentle whisper on the wind.

“Ah, Ginny. Virginia. My angel. You always know when to come to me, you always know that your dad knows best.”

Ginny felt Draco's surprise, felt his confused glance on her skin, but she didn't dare break eye contact with the deranged man crouching in an innocent woman's blood.

“What are you doing, Wallace? Why are you…?” She stopped, took in a shuddering breath. “Why?”

“Oh, don't pretend. You know why. You knew why the first time, and the second time, and the third, and you know now. You know!” He stood, lurched forward, and straightened. Though he was an old man, and wasted from years of living on the streets, struggling for every meal, the anger and madness ran off of him in waves, making him into a child's worst nightmare. Anyone's worst nightmare.

Ginny took a step back. “I don't know, Wallace. Explain to me, please.” The desperation in her voice wasn't faked.

He started to laugh, short rasping gasps that grated on Ginny's nerves. He looked down and shook his head, still laughing.

“Oh, Angel.” He raised his head, grinning. “Oh, you stupid slut. You don't remember, do you? Of course not. You never remembered what your daddy told you. Never, ever listened to your father. Never.” He stopped smiling, and turned his gaze towards Draco.

“It was all your fault, you know. You corrupted my baby, you demon, you bastard. If you had just left her alone,” he slowly shook the knife at Draco, drops of blood splattering against the concrete,”this all would have been avoided.” He took another step forward. “She would be at home, where she belongs. She'd be at home with her daddy, without your… taint in her, safe and sound and happy.”

Ginny felt sick. She placed a hand over her stomach, trying to escape the feeling of dread and nausea fighting to escape. Wallace's gaze latched onto her hand, and his grip tightened on the knife.

“Did you do it again, you stupid slut? Did he get your pregnant again, like last time? Didn't you learn then, you whore? You bitch?” He was yelling now, moving closer to Ginny.

“I told you,” he growled,” not to go with him, didn't I? I told you not to talk to him, that he only wanted one thing. And you didn't listen, you never listened to your father, never listened to daddy.”

Draco stepped in front of Ginny, pushing her behind him, making himself a human wall between her and the old man.

“She hasn't done anything. She's not your daughter.” Draco said slowly.

Wallace looked at Draco, as though he'd suddenly appeared.

“Of course she's my daughter. Her name is Ginny; my daughter's name is Ginny. She's my daughter. And she has to learn her lesson, don't you, Ginny?” he smiled, reaching a hand towards the two. “You have to learn this time.”

Ginny didn't move, couldn't move. It was as though she'd been cemented to the floor, become part of it. All she could do was stand, numb, behind Draco and watch.

Wallace frowned. “I said, you have to learn. Now, come here. Right now.” His hand shook, then clenched. “You come here, Ginny. Listen to your father.”

“No.” She whispered, trembling. “No, I won't. And you're not my father.”

He scowled, confused, then smiled.

“Then I'll come over there and teach you.”

+*+*+*+*+*+

Draco didn't see the man move. For an old hobo, he was quick. Suddenly, a hand reached for him, he felt a punch to the stomach, and warm blood started to ooze from underneath his shirt. He raised a hand to his shirt, felt the material stick to his hand, and then a hot pain lanced through his entire body. Draco fell to the ground, unable to move from the pain.

He looked up at Ginny, who stood in the middle of the alley, fear written all over her face. Not for herself, but for him.

“Draco?” She reached a hand towards him, and then was flung against the brick wall by Wallace.

Groaning, Draco tried to move towards the struggling pair, but blood loss or pain made it impossible.

Oh, God, no. Not now. Not when I've just found her. Somebody, help us. Please.

He slowly rolled onto his stomach, and then stopped breathing as the pain washed over him. He raised his eyes, darkness edging his vision, to where Ginny and the old man were wrestling in a pile of trash. There was no noise in the night, except for the rustling of garbage bags, and the occasional thunk of an empty can. Draco reached towards the pair, trying to move limbs that were suddenly too heavy for him. All he could do was watch, helpless, as he bled to death in an alley.

He couldn't tell who was winning, but because he couldn't tell who was losing, he felt some sense of hope. If Ginny were to win, she'd save him. She'd saved him before, he was sure, and now she'd do it again.

It seemed like hours were slipping away as he lay there. The night turned to day turned to night to day again and again, and still they fought. Still he bled. Still he died. He'd blink, and it would be another year, another lifetime later. And still they fought.

When Ginny finally reared up, a knife glinting in her hand, and came down one last time, he felt like he'd aged a hundred years in three minutes.

+*+*+*+*+*+

She felt the blade slip into his dirty body, felt it tear through skin and muscle, glance off bone, and slide into softness. A confused look of pain rose into Wallace's eyes, and then the slow realization of what had happened.

“You… you stabbed me.” He placed a hand on the wound, looked at his bloody hand, and then fell to the ground. Ginny dropped the knife, and clambered away. She stared at the blood on her hand, then furiously wiped it against her jeans, trying to get the red stain off of her. As she slowly gained control of her fear and disbelief, she heard her name whispered on the wind. Turning, she saw Draco, lying on the ground, blood spreading around him.

“Oh, god. No.”

She stumbled towards him, reaching for magic she hadn't used in years, hoping against hope that he was still alive, still breathing, still there. Using skills she thought she'd never need again, she quickly assessed his condition, flipped him, and pressed her hands against his stomach. When he groaned in pain, she thought she'd die from happiness.

“You stay with me, Malfoy. You are not going to die, you hear me?” She felt tears running down her face and ignored them as she reached for what little magic she had left.

He laughed, feebly. “You only call me Malfoy when you're pissed.” He gasped, coughed, then breathed, slowly. “I had to tell you something tonight, Ginny.”

“Don't you dare tell me now.” Her throat was tight. “You can tell me after I heal you. We have time.” She felt his blood flowing through her fingers, felt it slowing. She couldn't tell through her tears if it was because he was healing, or because he was dying.

“I had,” he coughed again. “God, that hurts. I was going to tell you everything tonight. Let you… let you know how I… how I feel about you.” His breath shuddered, then rushed back in. “How I've always felt…”

“Don't.” She could barely speak, could barely see. She was trying, damn it, to heal him, and she couldn't. It had been too long, she didn't have a wand, and she couldn't concentrate with the man she loved dying in her arms.

“I want to tell you something, Ginny.” He breathed, slowly. Shallowly. “I… Right now.” In, out. “Right now, I want to…” In, out. “To sleep…” In.

Out.

“Oh, god, Draco. You can't die on me. You can't.”

Breathe, breathe, breathe. Oh, please, breathe.

In.

“You stay with me. You hear me? You are going to stay with me.” She sobbed, reaching again for long-lost magic. “I can't lose you. Not now, not again.”

Out.

“I love you, and I can't lose you like this. Not this way. Just a few minutes longer, Draco. Just… just stay with me.” She closed her eyes, felt his blood on her hands, felt with a rush of joy the magic well up inside her, and spill out into his body. Light burnt through the lids of her eyes as she felt the broken body underneath her hands heal, slowly but surely.

When the light faded, she reveled in the slow, steady breaths moving in and out of Draco's chest.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Police officers showed up two minutes later. Wallace was taken to a nearby hospital's secure ward, where he was treated for a stab wound. Ginny and Draco, after being cleared as uninjured by paramedics, were taken in for questioning.

Ginny told officers how she'd met Wallace when she'd first lived on the streets. She'd spent a year with him, learning how to survive. He'd told her one night about his daughter, a young woman named Ginny, and why he'd lost everything. His wife had died, leaving him and his daughter. And one night, she'd come home and told him she was pregnant. Though he'd asked her again and again, she'd never told him who the father was, only that he didn't want to have anything to do with the baby.

When Wallace told the story, she'd run away the next day. What Ginny thought, now, was that he'd killed his daughter, a long time ago.

“He said she knew the first time. That she had to learn her lesson. I think he taught it to her.”

Officer's recovered the murder weapon from the scene. It matched the coroner's description of the knife used in all of the Angel murders, and had traces of the first victim's blood on the handle. The police congratulated Draco and Ginny on finding a killer, but all they wanted was to go home and sleep.

When they stumbled into the apartment at three in the morning, Draco's first action was to quietly take off his bloody shirt, sit down on the couch, and rest his head in his hands. Ginny sat down next to him, leaned into his side, and just breathed.

“I wanted to tell you I love you.” He lifted his head, and turned to face her. Gently, he reached for her, and cradled her face in his hands. “I love you, Virginia. I've loved you since I last saw you. I tried to forget, tried to pretend that nothing had happened between us, that I'd made it into something it wasn't. And then I saw you, and I remembered, and I couldn't let you go a second time. I love you.”

He let his gaze wander over her face, took in every beloved detail. The tiny freckles dusting her nose, the clear blue of her eyes, the fiery red of her hair. Then he leaned in and kissed her as if she would break. They parted, leaning their heads against each other, still breathing the same air.

“I love you, too.” She looked into his eyes and smiled. She raised a hand to his face, stroked it gently, lovingly, and then smacked him.

“Don't you ever do that to me again, you understand?” She stood, angrily, and started pacing. “I thought you were going to die. I thought I was going to lose you, and I never want to feel that way again. If you do anything that… stupid…”

He stopped her tirade by grabbing her, pulling her to his chest, and kissing the life out of her. Smiling against her mouth, he started to laugh.

“God, Ginny. Never change, love.” Laughing, he kissed her again. Still smiling, he took a step back. “Are you going to open that painting?”

“I'd forgotten about it, to be honest. But if you want me to, I'll go get it.” At his enthusiastic nod, she walked over to the living room table, where the painting still lay. Ginny picked it up, and started to tear off the thick, brown paper wrapped carefully around the canvas. When it was finally open, she looked at the painting, then at Draco, confused.

“It's a ring.”

Draco grinned, wide and happy. “Yes.”

Ginny was puzzled. “I'm not sure I understand.” She looked at it again, tilted the painting to the side, and then looked back at him. “It's just a ring.”

He laughed, loud and long. “Oh, you're bloody brilliant, Gin. Absolutely bloody brilliant. I'm giving you a ring. Will you marry me?”

She looked up from the painting, startled. “Marry you?”

He was still grinning. “Yes, marry me. Do I have to say please?”

A bewildered and joyful grin spread across her face. She felt as though her heart would burst from the joy of it all.

“Of course I'll marry you.” She laughed. “Of course.”

They kissed, and spent the rest of the night forgetting about death and hate, and learning about life and love.

+*+*+*+*+*+

And that, folks, is a wrap. Thank you for sticking with me for the past two years, for dealing with super slow updates, and long breaks of nothing. Thank you for telling me to stick with it, even though I sometimes didn't want to. You have all made this story worthwhile, and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing.

Thanks and lots of fudge to my great beta, Sarah. I can't believe it's been two years since you sent me an e-mail asking about being a beta. You've been a great friend and editor, and I don't know how to express how much I've appreciated being your friend these past two years. You're just great.

If there are any questions about the story, feel free to e-mail me at bundije@earlham.edu and I'll be more than happy to answer them for you.

As for my continuing career as a fanfiction writer, I think I need to explain my standing a bit better. I don't want to be JKR. I just don't want to play with her characters anymore. If you want to see some of my own characters instead, I'm currently writing and drawing a comic called Tirenos, which you can find out about at my deviantart page. It should be coming out sometime 2006.

Fanfiction.net:

Thanks to Pussin Boots, arrestingseraph, Scoopy, kate, Emerald Eyes 72, and mell8.

Portkey.org:

Thanks to Peanut, Anonymous, shell75, DracoObsessed17, jchaser, jenny83, monagy3, swimchick1614, tomlover, imystiqi88, HPfan, irish_slytherin, hearts_desire, and harry n hermione.

Scarlet received a recorded 379 hits and 168 reviews on fanfiction.net, and 20,547 hits and 149 reviews on portkey.org, for a combined total of 20,962 hits and 317 reviews. Thank you for all of the support, and your continued interest in this little fanfiction. I really appreciated it.

Once more, I have to say thank you to everyone who has ever commented. You guys are wonderful.

Goodbye and thank you.

paranoid

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