Imprisoned flame

Imprisoned Flame

Ginny Weasley took a deep breath. This was not a corridor at Hogwarts. With a quick glance around the practically pitch-black room, she saw the outline of a chair and a pillow.

And the roughness of a stone floor with ugly stains on it. Wait- stains?

She drew another shaky breath, and rolled up into as tiny a ball as she could muster. There was nothing on that floor separating the ugly stains and her raspberry-apricot body scrubbed skin. Except, that is, the stale smelling pillow that had been placed behind her head.

Stale smelling, like a mixture of wood, blood and some strong chemical. Charming, really. In the corner of the room she saw a candle in an old-fashioned metal candleholder. Its flame was flickering softly, barely making any light at all.

Ginny started to crawl towards it. Why, she didn’t know, but at the moment all her rough hands craved was something to hold in her possession. Just as she prepared herself to take her last baby step towards the candle, voices were heard overhead.

She froze.

Figures were slowly moving towards the room; she could see them through the glassless small window on the wall across from her.

Ginny hurriedly rushed back to her pillow in the corner, and curled into a ball again, feigning sleep. A cold gust of air swept through the room as a large, heavy door slid open. She was hardly able to hide her horrified shivers.

As she clenched her fists and squished her eyes closed, a shadow slowly loomed over her. “She’s still asleep. Knocked out cold since that spell.”

The other man sighed impatiently. “Very well. It’ll give you,” he paused, probably to look at someone else, “a little while to wait, then. Notify us if there are any problems.”

A shuffling of feet, and the closing of the door. The chair in front of her slid back, and it creaked as someone sat down.

She would have to wait awhile before ‘waking up’.

*

She must’ve fallen asleep again, because when she woke up, there was no one sitting in the chair across from her. The candle in the corner was still burning faintly, and Ginny crouched in front of it to gather it in her hands.

Little candle, she mused, as a drop of wax dripped onto her chilled hand. Good thing you’re here, she told it. Otherwise, I’d be completely alone in the dark.

For a moment it seemed silly to talk to a candle. But for now, she could feel a bond between the object and herself. They both were alone, and completely burnt of warmth. We even look similar, she thought, twirling a strand of her hair on her finger.

It startled her when she heard a creak on the chair in front of her. Looking up, she saw a face in shadows. A face which she couldn’t entirely distinguish. The flame- the only lighting in the room- was too low.

Putting the candle back down, she craned her neck forward, then paused thoughtfully, drawing it back. “Who are you?”

“The question is not who am I.”

“W-what do you mean?” She asked suspiciously, crawling back to her pillow.

“What you really want to know, is why are you, Virginia Malfoy here.”

“Virginia Malfoy,” she repeated disbelievingly. “No. Say it with me now: Wea-sleeeeey,” she said, emphasizing the syllables.

“S’pose you’re right. For now, anyways,” the man said, sitting back in his chair just as the door opened again.

“Ah, I see Virginia has finally woken up,” the arrogant voice that could not be mistaken for anyone but Lucius Malfoy’s said. Ginny backed up against the wall as far she could, clutching her pillow by her side.

“Frider, you’re free to leave,” Ginny heard him say. She swallowed hard, as Lucius turned towards her. “Don’t worry, little Virginia. Someone else is here to keep you company.”

“Honestly, Father, couldn’t you have picked a nicer cell for me to spend my day in?”

Ginny gaped, before fainting.

*

Hushed whispers surrounded Ginny. It was almost like that time the whole Chamber of Secrets incident had occurred; the aftermath of it, anyhow. She quickly turned to a chubby Hufflepuff in urgency.

“What’s going on?” She whispered.

“Harry Potter is dead.”

The voice had echoed in her head for a few seconds, before Ginny came back to her senses and laughed lightly. The Hufflepuff looked at her in horror. “Everyone knew it would happen some time or other. Voldemort has been growing stronger than ever these past few weeks.”

“B-but something else. . .” His voice trailed off in fear.

“What? What is it?” Ginny asked impatiently.

“Draco Malfoy disappeared along with him.”

*

“One little candle flame when shared, spreads through the darkness everywhere,” Ginny sang to herself softly. The candle was now completely burnt out, and she was plunged into darkness. The chair in front of her creaked again, and she looked up. 

“Hello,” he said. Draco sounded almost- friendly, even.

“You’re not actually here,” she whispered frightfully, and grasped the candle tightly.

“But of course I am. Who else did you expect?”

“But you’re, you’re- dead,” she stated. “Along with the rest of. . .them.”

“Draco Malfoy disappeared along with him. . .”

Draco chuckled and crossed his legs, scooting the chair closer to her cell. “Miss me, Ginny?”

“But you disappeared! Almost one and a half years ago!”

“Along with Potter,” he spat out the name.

“Who had died-“

“At the hands of Voldemort,” he finished, and realization suddenly dawned upon her.

“And no one saw you since,” she murmured.

Of course Voldemort wouldn’t have killed one of his loyal follower’s sons, who had probably even been a Death Eater at the time.

Oh, God.

*

A/N: What did you guys think? I know, I know, shouldn’t have started a new fic. I actually just got this idea two weeks ago, but had no motivation to finish it until I figured out a plot.

Smash or trash?

I’ll let you decide the future of this fic.