A/N: at bottom

"Harry! Stop it!"

"Come on! Stop fighting this!"

"NO! I will not allow this!"

Ginny Weasley found her back against a cold stone wall, two sides open: left and right.

"Ginny! There’s nothing left to lose!" Harry Potter was stalking towards her, pushing her towards that wall, and now she found herself trying to push farther into it, wishing she were a ghost so she could go through it.

But it was solid and held firm against her back.

Ginny looked frantically in both directions; her options were growing ever shorter as he advanced on her.

"Harry! Give it up! I won’t!" Her voice wasn’t as steady, and she knew in another couple of minutes it would turn pleading. He was still coming towards her; he was almost there.

"Ginny, it will be okay! You’ll see!" Harry reached his arms out to touch her and Ginny flinched further back, shrugging her shoulders to make herself smaller, the way she felt.

"No! Harry. . . please no." Ginny could feel her eyes start to tear and her vision swam, but she could see him in front of her, and all of a sudden his arms were on her.

She was pinned by his arms, holding her wrists above her head, his torso flush with hers, holding her tight against the wall. Holding her tight against her will.

She wanted to scream no and call out, she wanted to free her arms and hit him, but suddenly she couldn’t do any of that.

All she could do was close her eyes as her body sagged against his in defeat. Harry’s breath was on her ear and he was whispering to her, " Just let me Ginny. I’ll make it all better."

Ginny whimpered pitifully as his hand slipped under the hem of her shirt, his fingers touching her skin, causing her to shiver. Her wrists had been transferred to his other hand, but she was too scared to try and break free. She hadn’t even noticed.

The hairs on her arms and neck stood up, the hallway was chilly, and the cold stone pressing against her back was bruising her.

"Good Ginny, just relax." He was rubbing against her now, moving his hips against hers, and the tears slipped out from underneath her long lashes. Ginny let out a sob as his hand neared her breast.

‘God, j-just leave me alone!’ Ginny started shaking uncontrollably and a buzzing blocked out all the sound in her ears. She couldn’t see, or think, or hear, but she didn’t even care.

She was finely attuned to Harry’s breath on her neck, his fingers on her bra, his hips on her hips. She could feel each and every move he was making, but she couldn’t do a single thing.

‘Just make him go away!’

Her breathing was ragged and she hadn’t stopped her shaking, it had moved to cover her entire body, and she could feel Harry vibrating from her pulse.

She could feel Harry’s breath start to quicken as he searched for her bra clasp, but she didn’t want to feel anything of Harry’s anymore!

Especially not his ever noticeable arousal.

Her tears were leaving salty trails all the way down her neck, into the collar of her uniform, but they didn’t cease to fall. Ginny began to sob harder as Harry found the clasp on her bra and leaned forward to claim her neck. She was pushed harshly into the wall behind her back, but she only closed her eyes tighter to the tears.

He twisted her arms painfully to the side as he angled her to his liking, sucking her skin harshly. Ginny gave out the tiniest cry at his abuse, but didn’t move herself.

Her ability of movement had left her the moment he had reached the wall, and she doubted she would be getting it back.

"God! Ginny!" Harry pulled his mouth away to scream her name in abandon in the empty hallway, letting it reverberate off the walls before he resumed his practice.

‘No! Get off. . . please. . . just leave.’

Ginny couldn’t think straight through her sobs, and the pain of his mouth on her neck was distracting.

Blaise Zabini wandered the halls on his nightly Prefect patrol. Not a soul was in sight, as was usual on his patrols. He usually used this time to sort out his life, which had actually grown quite tiresome. He didn’t really wish to think on the matter this particular night, and so he wandered randomly, searching for couples or mischief makers that sometimes roamed the halls on missions of their own.

He was about to start back the way he had come, passing his last hall without checking, but he heard a noise.

He heard a name.

"God! Ginny!"

"What the hell?" Blaise murmured, starting briskly towards the voice that was crying out. Some one was going to be in a lot of trouble for going at it in the hallway. Blaise just smirked to himself.

He was almost there, hearing the heavy breathing coming from the hallway, when he stopped dead in his tracks, about to turn the corner and reach them, . . . but he heard a whimper.

A pitiful whimper. A beautiful sound, so lost, so scared, so hurt. His eyes widened fractionally and he sucked in a breath- catching himself as he went hard, fast.

Blaise rushed around the corner and grabbed a handful of a cloak and pulled back, swiftly.

He whirled around to catch the assailant off guard with a fist to the head, but stopped when he caught sight of Potter.

Harry Potter.

"What the fuck were you doing?!" Blaise yelled. His voice echoed through the hall, carrying to the next one, but Blaise didn’t notice.

Harry’s eyes were unfocused, his lips red, his face flushed. Blaise could tell exactly what he had been doing. But that wasn’t the point.

Blaise’s eyes flicked a shade darker as he stalked towards Harry. Potter going at it was such a perfect situation to deduct points, but Blaise wasn't even thinking about that. He couldn't really understand why he felt so upset by the fact that Potter was messing around, then he heard another whimper from behind him and he remembered.

Harry didn’t seemed to notice, he only licked his lips and gave a devilish smirk, staring behind Blaise.

Blaise didn’t even bother to look back as he reached Harry and shoved him roughly into the opposite wall.

"Potter!" He spit out dangerously. "Fucking around is against school rules!"

Harry turned to Blaise as his head slammed into the wall with a sickening crack! He stared at him dazedly and didn’t even catch his next words.

"10 points from Gryffindor!"

Then Harry saw black.

---

Blaise didn’t even flinch as his fist connected with Harry’s skull. He wiped the blood off nonchalantly on his robes, not thinking of the simple cleansing charm he could have done.

Filth was far from his mind.

Blaise turned around, wanting to comfort the victim. He took one step forward, hesitant all of a sudden, and the girl collapsed on the ground.

He rushed forwards and dropped to his knees beside her, lifting her into his lap carefully, mindful of anything that might cause her pain.

She whimpered softly, and, suddenly, Blaise’s thoughts stopped.

His whole entire mind went blank at the sound of the pathetic noise. His breathing picked up a notch and he could hear his blood pounding through his veins, suddenly remembering his earlier reaction to that very same noise.

That perfect beautiful voice was made for so many better things; she should never have had to make that sound, Blaise was sure. But she was, and her voice came out like a melody, crying for help, crying from abuse. Blaise couldn't even breathe as another whimper came out of her perfect mouth, penetrating his body and vibrating through him. She was so small, and she looked so broken.

She was shaking uncontrollably and sobbing, but Blaise could only hear the whimper and his hands immediately went to her chin, lifting her face to his level.

Her face was pure porcelain. It was lovely: high cheekbones covered with freckles, a straight nose fit to her face, long beautiful lashes that covered who knew what colored eyes.

But he couldn’t help his gasp of pain as he saw her tears. She was shaking her head and her mouth was opened slightly as she sobbed a mantra in her head. He couldn’t hear the words, and he knew he didn’t need to.

Blaise pulled her towards his chest and brought his mouth close to her ear.

"Shh. No, no angel, do not shed your tears. No more tonight my sweet. I’m here, you are safe."

He was so angry! His blood was pumping with adrenaline through his veins in a fast rhythm. He wanted to rip Potter to pieces! But then he would have had to let her go, and Blaise was afraid that he would never be able to do that.

He took one calming breath, closing his eyes for a second and pictured Potter's body already demolished.

Blaise opened his eyes and looked down upon her, putting one hand into her hair to thread through her locks in a soothing motion when he noticed.

They were red.

Her hair was red.

Weasley?

It had to be. That was the only person with that hair color.

"Shh. Virginia," Blaise whispered to her, letting his hand fall into her hair, while the other held her waist, "You are safe."

---

Ginny was struggling. Someone was holding onto her, their breath in her ear.

Even so close to her, she couldn’t make out the words. She couldn’t think coherent thoughts.

She knew Harry wasn’t holding her anymore because her bra wasn’t coming off, and no lips were on her neck.

No, she was sitting in a lap, being held against a chest. But it was a male chest, and that’s why she struggled.

Ginny didn’t want to be held! She wanted to be in her dorm, safe with a staircase between her and Harry Potter and any other creature of the male species.

She wanted all offending pairs of hands, arms, lips, and all other body parts away from her.

Ginny Weasley wanted a restraining order!

But she didn’t have one, and apparently, people were bent on touching her this evening.

Ginny felt violated in a way she didn’t know had been possible.

She had no idea who was holding her so close to them, but she didn’t want to be close to them. It wasn’t their right to touch her! No one had that right!

Ginny let more tears fall from her eyes, realizing for the first time that they hadn’t ever stopped.

She let out a whimper of distress as the person holding her began to thread their hands through her hair.

Ginny wanted to yell out No! again, but she knew she didn’t have a choice.

So she sobbed more and let out pathetic attempts at struggling, but her willpower had left her long ago, and that hand felt so good.

She didn’t understand those whispered words, but the voice was perfectly smooth, like satin, and it rolled down her, warming her rattled nerves.

She knew she shouldn’t have, she really did.

But before Virginia Weasley knew it, she was fast asleep atop a stranger.

---

Okay, that’s all for now. I’d really like to know what you think, so review.