Bruises

Part 1

 

Looking in the mirror above the large washbasin, her eyes ran across her freckled reflection and she studied a mark forming just below the soft curve of her jaw. The usually pale skin was a violent pink and darkening so rapidly that she feared her skin was being burned by some unseen force. The two small circles stood out brashly and unfolded so many ill kept secrets and sins left unspoken.

 

She was not fallow to being marked like this. When it first began, the marks were subtle and scarred her more on the inside than it did to her milky complexion. She found that the more desire built up between them, the worse the inflictions became, until the pain had begun to exceed the pleasure.

 

Four weeks ago, she bumped into him in the dank dungeons when dropping off important ingredients and chemicals to her Potions professor. Useless Slytherin, that boy was. His existence was completely irrelevant to the development of human intelligence, and it seemed a shame to waste such a poor soul on such a beautiful face. He did no more to acknowledge her than his usual sneer, and piercing gaze. That’s how it had always been between them.

 

There was never any verbal exchange, after all what did she, a mere Weasley have to say to him? He was virtually untouchable to her; like the beautiful wizards she saw on the covers of the cheap romance novels that her mother hid under her mattress. Simply someone to be observed from afar, never someone to interact with, and certainly he wasn’t someone she needed to be seen with.

 

All of the vile things she’d been told and programmed to think flooded her mind and escaped through the glance that she gave him as she pushed him aside to get by him. Her hand lay flat on his chest, and she pushed hard against him, but he wouldn’t move.

 

She narrowed her eyes and shoved more firmly this time but was caught off guard when his hand flew up to cover her wrist.

 

“Now, now. That’s not very polite Virginia.” He said with that playful drawl and tightened his grip. She looked up into his cool grey eyes and brought her heavy boot down hard on his toes, causing him to release her arm.

 

“It’s Ginny,” She corrected him with a fierce look. “Get out of my way Malfoy.”

 

He towered over her for a moment before stepping aside and allowing her to pass. Astonished, she composed herself, and quickly marched away from him, her forearm still tingling from his touch.

 

She left the hall and entered the dungeon taking slow, deliberate steps, so as not to disturb the bottles and vials she carried in the crook of her arm. A pungent odor met her as she walked further into the damp stone room and relieved her burden of glass and liquid on a stone table. She stopped to examine the colored glasses and tubes as she tried to collect her thoughts, when a tingling sensation gripped her spine.

 

A familiar feeling crept up her spine and she felt a pair of eyes bore into her back.

Slowly, she turned and glanced behind her, staring into those well-known eyes and a wave of intense hatred swept over her.

 

She narrowed her eyes and demanded, “What are you doing here?”