Title: Sanctuary (7/?)
Author: Amethyst
Author E-mail: AmethystJackson@hotmail.com
Category: Drama
Sub-Category: Romance
Keywords: Draco Ginny Voldemort Dumbledore sanctuary
Spoilers: PS/SS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sometimes, sanctuary can be found where one least expects it - the only thing keeping it out of reach is pride.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
~
Draco felt every eye on him as they sat at the long kitchen table. Ginny's and Tonks' were supportive and bracing; Lupin's were blank. Those of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were confused, while Ron's were decidedly biased - and perhaps a little bloodthirsty.
"I'm afraid we don't quite understand," Mr. Weasley said, breaking the deathly silence. "Er, just why are you here, Draco?"
He hated that question. There was no tactful way to answer it. "Mainly, to keep from being killed by You-Know-Who."
"Spy for him, more like," Ron snorted.
"Hush, Ron," Ginny said firmly, much to Draco's satisfaction. "Let him speak, will you?"
"Yes, do go on," Mr. Weasley said.
Draco sighed. He was going to have to explain it again. It was becoming very tiresome. "I don't want to be a Death Eater, believe it or not - and I don't fancy being his spy, either," he added pointedly. "It's nasty business, you know, and the company's annoying at best. But when your family is loyal to the cause, you're somewhat expected to follow.
"You can't stand up to You-Know-Who, you know that, right? I mean, it's all well and good to be brave and noble, if you don't mind being dead. But if you'd rather not be, it's best to avoid a confrontation with him."
It was Ginny that spoke next, quiet from across the table. "Your father really wouldn't protect you, then?"
He thought she'd figured that out long before then. "No, he really wouldn't."
It was as though they were alone for that moment. She looked so desperately sad for him that he felt the need to go and comfort her.
"Just why should we believe you?" Ron asked, bursting their little bubble. Draco shot him an exasperated glare.
"You won't believe a word I say, no matter how good my reasons are. Unless you've got a bottle of Veritaserum up your sleeve, I guess you'll just have to wait until someone finds a way to penetrate that thick skull of yours."
"I'm not just going to sit about while you're leaking Order secrets to You-Know-Who!" Ron cried, standing.
"Now, boys, calm yourselves!" Mrs. Weasley broke in, her tone making her authority indisputable. Ron slowly sat back down, still fuming.
"Look," Draco said slowly, watching the skeptical faces of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, "it's not as though I'm really in the Order. I'm not going to hear any secrets I could leak, and I can't exactly disclose our location, now, can I? I'm not much of a risk - an annoyance, sure, but not a risk."
He saw Ginny suppress a smile before his attention was drawn back to Mr. Weasley.
"He makes a point, and there doesn't seem to be any reason to debate it anymore. It's unlikely that he's a spy, or that he'll be able to provide any substantial information to the Dark Lord if he is one...so let's just leave the boy alone and try to get used to the idea."
Well, at least they're not talking about me as though I'm not here, a sarcastic side of his brain chimed in.
"Yes, you're right, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley said, standing, "Come, Ron, Ginny, let's take our things upstairs."
They went, Ron looking thoroughly unconvinced.
"Well, glad no one made a fuss," Tonks said, rolling her eyes. "Great Kneazles, you'd think you had a huge Dark Mark on your forehead, Draco."
He gave an ironic smile (which probably looked more like a grimace) and replied, "I might as well."
~
He went back to his room, wanting to keep away from everyone. He was tired of the constant questioning. "Might have been easier to tell You-Know-Who to sod off," he muttered to himself, sitting heavily on his bed.
Looking around, he was struck with a new problem - boredom. What on Earth was he supposed to do to pass the day? Merlin, what was he to do for the rest of his time there? What had he to do?
He was debating between sleeping away the rest of the morning and brewing up something smelly to annoy the other houseguests when a knock on his door solved the dilemma.
When he opened the door, he wasn't surprised to find Ginny there, though he was finally struck with how odd she looked. He'd only ever seen her in robes before, or jeans and a sweater. He now found himself confronted with Ginny in shorts, of all things. He couldn't remember seeing so much leg in his life, come to think of it.
"Can I come in?" she asked, oblivious to his thoughts, and he nodded, stepping out of her way.
"Rather drab room they've given you," she said, glancing around. "Then again, the entire house is a bit drab. What is it with you Slytherin types and gloomy furnishings?"
Draco shrugged. "We don't do cheerful."
Ginny made herself at home, sitting on his bed. She seemed to have more freckles today; she must have spent quite some time in the sun yesterday.
"Ron will come around, eventually," she said with a sure smile. "He's stubborn, but once everyone's convinced him he's wrong, he'll give in. I imagine Hermione will be helpful with that."
"You don't doubt me at all, do you?" Draco said, hiding his amazement from his voice.
"Of course not," she said. "You're not that hard to figure out, you know. I know you think you're quite the enigma, but you only appear that way because no one cares to look past your scaly exterior -"
"I'm not scaly," he said, crossing his arms.
Ginny chuckled at him. "That was figurative, of course. You're really just pasty."
"I'm not -"
"You're pasty, Draco. But back to my point. It's easy to see that you've been dying for approval all your life, and you just finally grew up and realized you were looking for it in the wrong place."
Draco blinked. "Well, I'm glad you've figured that out, because I never did."
Ginny smiled. "I only saw it because I'm the same way. Not that I have it half as bad as you do, but...well, with Hermione and Harry and my brothers...I've never felt quite good enough."
Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You? Oh, please, Weasley; everyone loves you."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Love me? Sure. But I'm not special, and I never have been. Even in first year, I was so insignificant that even your father knew Riddle could possess me and nobody would notice for a second!"
"You were chosen because you're a Weasley," Draco said, exasperated. "Your father was trying to pass some Muggle protection law, and mine was trying to screw that up for him. It was political, not personal."
Ginny shook her head. "You see everything in terms of what it will get you, don't you? You don't even think about how anything makes anybody feel."
"Where the hell did that come from?" Draco asked, glaring down at her. "I was just pointing out the truth, Weasley. My father didn't give a damn about what you were like; he only looked at your name. That doesn't mean I'm the same way."
"You really think your father didn't consider emotions? If he'd only wanted a Weasley, he could have slipped the thing to any of us, but he knew that I was the only one who would be lonely and desperate enough to write in that diary. If I didn't exist, do you think he would have given it to any of my brothers? It would have never worked."
Draco fidgeted, crossing his arms defensively. "All right, so I never looked at it that way. I guess you win."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "There you go again. Win and lose. It's all about gain. Do you even have a heart?"
He snapped. "Damnit, Weasley, what exactly is it that you want from me? Yeah, I do look at life in terms of gain. It's how I was brought up. I can't just change my way of thinking overnight."
She looked down at her hands. "I'm just...I'm just trying to show you. I didn't mean to be overly critical." She stood and took the two steps to the door. "I'm sorry I bothered you," she said before leaving him alone.
He sighed and fell onto his bed, ignoring the urge to follow her. He would have to do better - change somehow - before he lost his only ally...no, not just an ally. If he was going to think of anything in terms of feeling, it would be her, and she was more than an ally in the game he found himself playing.
Listlessly, he began to pace his small room. Tomorrow, he would fix things with her. He would begin to prove himself tomorrow - for her, if nothing else - and he would have her back, as his friend, or whatever it was that they were.
To be continued