Ich Verspreche

DISCLAIMERS: JKR owns all the characters except Nelek, Rektor Karl Brandt & Ivan Zhukov This fic of mine (my 1st in 2 years) is dedicated to to Stephanie, who has been my beta-reader... and dearest online pal since 2002. It's rare to find pals that last this long -- especially if you've only meant them online -- but when all of them have come and gone, she was the only one who remained -- and for that, she will always have my love, trust and loyalty! Thanks girl for being there for me when the going gets tough! I wouldn't be able to finish this fic without you! *schnoogles*

“Wollen Sie ein paar Zigaretten?” the old peddler asked, shoving various packs of cigarettes in my face, his fingernails covered with tar and soot. I figured he must have stolen them from a nearby market, judging from the way he held on to them as if his life depended on it.

“Nein,” I answered, lighting my own smoke, staring blankly at Die Rote Tür hiding in the shadows. I was informed by my superiors at Zaubereiministerium that they believe Death Eaters are having their meetings around midnight in this part of Vienna. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if it were true — this brothel lies in the sixth-district of the city, at the corner of Karl Scheweighofergasse and Mariahilfer. The whole neighborhood is known for its cheap prostitutes, selling their goods for hideous wankers to feast on.

Not leaving my side, he figured I was looking at the billige Huren across the street, screaming and flaunting their bodies at each passing car they saw. “Ich kenne ein Mädchen, das Sie für 16 Euro ficken würde.” he teased mischievously, his toothy grin flashing with so much glee I wanted to slam his face into the pavement. If I had wanted to find a quick fuck, I would have gone to the first-district — that’s where all the best-looking whores are allowed to work.

The old Draco Malfoy would have said something like that, not an Auror for the German Ministry of Magic, glaring at the beastly cadger before him. “Ich habe NEIN gesagt!” I jeered, nudging him out of my way, deciding to get away to clear my mind. I could hear him cursing me, as the women tried coaxing me to come and take a look of what she had to 'offer'. Throwing my cigarette to the ground, I began to wonder what brought me to this side of the world, why I traded a life of luxury and pleasure in exchange for a measley job in a foreign land. The bitter cold brought back memories of that time, that place where it all started seven years ago…

I was in my seventh year when the Great War began. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix had started their offensive against Voldemort’s army of Death Eaters. On a cold autumn night, hordes of masked men invaded the town of Hogsmeade, burning all the buildings and houses there, leaving no wizard or witch alive. I was staring out the window of my Head Boy's room when the heavy flames engulfed the night sky — the last remains of the wizarding town dissolved in smoke and dust.

During that time, I chose allegiance to neither Potter nor Voldemort, choosing instead the betrayal of my parents and the treachery of my so-called “friends” in the House Hogwarts had foisted upon me for seven years.

I was now my own warrior. My own master.

I was only awakened from my stupor when I heard shouts of fear outside my room. When I looked out, the Death Eaters had bombarded the front gates of Hogwarts and were now throwing curses and spells at what little defense the castle could withstand. My hands gripped the ledge as if life depended on it. Soon, the war would start and all that remained would be the strong and weary; the brave and vigilant.

I was neither brave nor vigilant, but I knew one thing as the jubilant cheers of the Slytherin crowd became too loud to bear:

I would never see her again. That beautiful girl with a smile that radiated even in the darkest nights; her fiery red hair which smelled of lavender when I buried my face in it; those caramel eyes that showed ardor every time our bodies thrusted into each other in the heat of passion.

She was my last chance at happiness — something that I had never had my entire life.

Without a moment’s notice, I picked up my cloak and headed out in the hopes of finding her. We needed to talk, to plan ahead. There was no way in Hades I was going to leave that place without her. I knew then that she would never abandon her family for me…

But maybe I could persuade her — tell her that once the war was over, we could go back and visit them, and make a respectable woman out of her.

Maybe then, I could prove to the world that the Malfoy name should no longer be feared. That I can be bring back the respect and glory my ancestors once placed upon it

Maybe, just maybe…

“Silence, you insolent fools!” Professor Snape growled, his murderous gaze roamed across the Slytherin common room. Looking around, it seems to me that they decided to hold a ‘victory party’ of sorts, scattered bottles of butterbeer and various pastries all over the floor. “I have been given orders by the Headmaster that all students must evacuate the premises immediately.” Imagine the retaliation he got from those wretched fools, telling him that there was nothing to fear — that soon all of the wizarding world would fall in the hands of Lord Voldemort.

Their pleas fell on deaf ears. Snape, despite the fury showing on his face, informed us that there was a secret railway underneath the castle grounds. From there we would board the trains that will bring us to safety. “You need not bring any of your personal belongings. I will personally make sure that everything will be sent to your homes as soon as possible. Now follow me, before I stupefy all of you and have the house elves drag you out of here.” As Head Boy, I was assigned to round up the students according to their year, ordering them to follow the professor immediately. Believe me, the task was not easy, considering the fact that I had “abandoned” their cause to save my own skin.

It was a dog-eat-dog world out there — and I wasn’t potty enough to die for some half-man, half-ghoul loony in a black cloak.

It was bad enough I had a father who had been mad most of his bloody life…

Professor Snape guided us through various passageways and corridors, down the moving staircases, and through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. As we passed the dungeons, I had begun to wonder where Ginny was in all of this, and if there was still a chance for me to escape with her.

Chuckling silently, I remembered our nightly rendezvous, seaching the place for a quick shag. If those walls could talk, they’d definitely gossip it to every single portrait how “scandalous” our actions were. There wasn’t a day that went by that we didn’t try to look for a new place to kiss, fondle, and devour our bodies in blissful pleasure.

Most nights we ended up in my room, bed sheets damp with sweat. I always teased her when she covered herself up afterwards, pulling the sheets over her breasts, even as her hair lay tangled and moist on the pillow.

“You didn’t mind before.”

“That was before. I can’t help it. I’m modest,” she pointed out. Gazing into my eyes, she began to laugh, a bed laugh, intimate as touch. She turned on her side. “How can you joke about this? About us?”

I fell down next to her, exhausted, content. “It’s supposed to be fun.”

She put her hand along the side of my face. “Fun for you,” she said, but smiling because the sex was playful, part of the allure that kept us together — a secret that only the two of us shared. Curling up next to me, she placed her head on my chest, murmuring. “We can tell them the truth, you know.”

“What truth?” I asked, toying a strand of her now-sweaty hair.

She looked up to me, her eyes pleading, hopeful. “That this is real. That I love you, and that we love each other...”

“Ginny…”

She reached up, touching the corners of my mouth, a Braille touch, trying to make sense of the ridges. “You do love me, right? Tell me you love, Draco. Tell me.”

I took her hand, and moved it to my mouth, kissing it, grazing the fingers. “Yes.” She kissed me gently, as if she were afraid that I was lying to her, that I was unsure of my own feelings. “Tell me please. I wanna hear you say it.”

Rolling her under me, I covered every inch of her skin with butterfly kisses, each one carrying a hidden promise in it. Finally there was nothing left to be heard but the grinding of two bodies as she pulled my face, and kissing me fervently. Entering her, I whispered to her “I love you” over and over again, until we were both sated and flushed.

“Have you been practicing your German lately, Mr. Malfoy?” Professor Snape asked.

This pulled me from my stupor. I didn’t realize that they had finally arrived at an underground railway in one piece, along with the rest of the students from the other three Houses. Judging from the damp cobblestones and towering stone pillar filled with soot and cobwebs, the whole place probably hadn’t been used since the time of Grindelwald. Ich spreche fleißig Deutsch, Professor,” I answered idly, searching for Ginny in the massive crowd. “Why do you ask?”

Before he could answer, Hagrid instructed all Gyffindors and Hufflepuffs to follow him while Professor Flitwick handled the rest of the students. It was only then, that I realized that there were two steam engines waiting for us on the platform, one of them heading north, and the other south. As an explosion echoed above us, the crowd started to panic, frantically pushing their way to their respective compartments.

Then I saw her alongside Weasley and Potter about ten feet away from me. Granger was nowhere in sight, probably guiding the first-years aboard the train.

Her shoulders were straight, yet even from this distance I could sense how worried she was. Despite all the noise and chaos around me, all I saw was the messed up bed, her body barely covered by a tangled sheet, her skin slick with perspiration. And then, as if she had read my thoughts, she turned her head and looked at me: a direct glance, an intimacy that was forbidden. She once told me the first night I kissed her that no good would come to this, but I felt the pulse of my erection and I knew I would never escape Hogwarts without her. The war would be over on its own. And the Malfoy-Weasley feud would drift to that limbo of rigid consciousness. And I would have her. Plain and simple.

I was already shoving my way toward her, when Professor Snape pulled me back, intruding me. “Listen to me, Malfoy. There is something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?” I asked impatiently, trying to see if Ginny had boarded the train or not.

“You must get off at the railway station in Inverness instead of Aviemore. Once there, go to the Abriachan Post where you will receive a portkey to take you to Berlin.”

“In Germany? Professor—”

“The minute you arrive in Berlin, head straight to Zaubereiministerium and floo to Promnice Manor in Silesia, and wait for my instructions.”

“But Silesia’s in Poland?!” I retorted, glaring at him. “What the bloody hell are you trying to—”

“I am trying to save your life!” Snape sneered, his voice low. “Do you honestly think that your parents would accept you with open arms after what you’ve done to them!?”

“I don’t fucking care!” I shouted, thankful that nobody heard nor cared about what was going on between them. “You are not my father, so you don’t have any right to tell me what I should or should not do.”

“Well, you don’t really have a choice, Mr. Malfoy — these are Dumbledore’s orders, and disobeying them is clearly not your prerogative at this point.”

I smirked at him, obviously too pissed off and amused by this whole exchange. “You’re saying Dumbledore wants me to go all the way to some god-knows-where town a thousand miles away for what? To be his spy?” I asked, incredulously. “Too late for that, don’t you think?”

“He knows about you and Miss Weasley.”

I felt my blood turn to ice, though I continue to glare at my teacher. "It's none of his business," I said tightly. I wasn't going to tell him a thing, not just for my sake, but Ginny's as well. “And it’s none of yours, either.”

“Ron, no!”

Hearing her scream, I turned to see her arguing with her brother, tears slowly brimming in her eyes. I couldn’t hear what they were fighting about when the whole tunnel shook like an earthquake. Debris began falling down upon us, forcing the students to rush toward the platform to board the trains. There was no way I could have reached her in time, but still I pursued her. Snape then grabbed my arm, hauling me until I reached the stairs of my train. “You listen closely, Draco” he hissed, trembling in rage. “If your father finds out that you’ve been sleeping with her, he will hunt her down like a rabid dog! Dumbledore is saving both your lives, and if you truly do care about her, then you will do exactly what I say!”

Memories of how my father tortured his captives repeatedly in the dungeons of the manor, brought a chill to my spine. “She will be mine, Professor. Make no mistake about it,” I conceded, trying to hide my fear.

He leered, placing his hand on my shoulder. “One day, that Malfoy pride of yours will be the death of you.”

Exchanging one final glance, it seemed she was looking straight at me, as she waited her turn on the platform. I’m scared, Draco, her glance said, fighting back tears. I’ll come back, I thought, gripping the handrail until my knuckles turned white. I’ll come back for you. As if some understanding passed between us, she nodded and stepped on the train. My train was the first to leave, and I began thinking for a second, wildly, that she would get off her train and come with him…

She never did… and the last thing I saw at Hogwarts was the ruined cavern, with the other steam engine rolling away in the opposite direction.

The trip to Inverness was long and cold, the night fog looming along the Scottish landscape. I was tired, depressed and worried about how it will all turn out. By tea-time I had flooed to Promnice Manor, and to my surprise, it was nicer than I expected. The whole place resembled a hunting lodge, rather than a stately manor. An old house-elf by the name of Nelek was waiting for me. He greeted me in Polish, his hands stretched out and took my my cloak.

“Czy mówisz po Angielsku?” I asked, in what appeared to be the den, admiring the unique stained-glass windows and the chandelier made entirely of deer antlers. There were even various hunters’ armaments and trophies decorated on the walls and shelves.

“Nelek speak tiny Angielsku,” Nelek answered meekly in his heavy Polish accent, motioning for me to follow him. “Chociaz Nelek biegly w Niemcu.” It then relayed to me that we were located in the city of Kobiór near Tychy, in the Pszczyna forest. I reckon this was the sole reason why Snape insisted I hide here — the whole forest residence was in the middle of nowhere.

With twenty-six suites to choose from, I decided to take refuge in the one situated in the octagon tower. The room was fit for a king, and it was high enough for owls to deliver the post. During my stay, I did nothing but write Snape letters everyday, inquiring about the attack or whether there were any casualties, mainly that of Ginny’s. His replies were brief, mostly stating that all was well, and that all the students except him had returned to their respective families.

He also told me not to owl any letters to her, fearing that one might be intercepted by Death Eaters. He did assure me that she and her family were safe. It wasn’t good enough for me — so despite his warnings, I wrote to her everyday, telling her that once the war was over, I would come for her and marry her — with or without her consent. When I wasn’t writing to her, constants floos and owl posts from Snape kept me distracted from the loneliness of the manor. It had been six months since I’d arrived here and still no reply from her. I was so tempted to storm her house when an owl post finally came during one afternoon. Thinking it was the response I was hoping for, I was shocked when I found an invitational letter from Deutsche Auror-Akademie for the coming school year. I tried to find a reason for such a thing, only to receive another owl post. What was written on it was as clear as day.

Dumbledore suggests that you consider this offer… and if you send one more post to Miss Weasley, I will order that the MvM to place a no-owl-zone restriction on the area!

“Fuck!” Throwing my goblet to the wall, I rushed to my suite and plotted his demise. Just who the hell did he think he was, interfering with my life like I was a child? I’d been locked up in that rustic cage for almost half a year, and he still made decisions for me. I’d tried numerous times to use the floo network but it I found that Snape was the only one allowed to use it. Nelek also told me that he had installed an anti-apparation field on a hundred-mile radius. My sanity told me I needed to leave this place as soon as possible, but my logic had another idea for me. Picking up my crumpled letter, I pondered the possibilities of my being an Auror, and the sooner the war’s end, the sooner I’ll have my Ginny back!

If serving for the side of good was the only way I could have her again, then so be it!

Within a week, I headed off to Munich with nothing but the clothes in my back and the determination to reach my goal. The whole bloody Academy was filled with wide-eyed recruits from all over continental Europe, hoping to get a piece of “Dark Wizard” meat right in Voldemort’s league. Competition to get to the top was fierce, to the point where there was never a week that I hadn’t ended up in the hospital wing with a busted nose or a bruised jaw — after I mostly disfigured the other guy’s face and left him in far worse condition.

In the span of two years, through hard work and a fierce determination, I was able to reach my final level faster than any graduate the academy had.

It was also the year that I would lose everything I had left.

In the fall of 2001, I was called by Rektor Karl Brandt to his office, telling me that Snape was killed in the line of duty during a surprise attack at the Minister of Magic’s home in Ottey St. Catchpole by rogue Death Eaters. It was written in his last will and testament that I would inherit Promnice Manor, along with his Gringotts accounts in London and Krakow. He also informed me both my parents have died as well, leaving the entire Malfoy Estates to me.

“Sind Sie andere Überlebenden, Herr?” I asked, a silent prayer.

“Nein,” he answered, standing up to retrieve a file in one of his steel cabinets. “Der Minister und seine Familie sind alle tot, der ganze Fuchsbau ist zu Boden gebrannt”

“Ich sehe.”

“My condolences for your loss, Herr Malfoy,” the headmaster said sympathetically, his German accent thick. “The will states that you must leave for London immediately, so you may take a week’s off starting today.”

“Vielen Dank,” Stepping out of his office, I felt a wave of numbness washing over me. The trip to London was brief, just long enough for me to formalize the will and have everything transferred under my name. Afterwards, I wasted no time in heading back to Promnice Manor, ready to drown away my sorrows. In its cold dark interiors, I had sealed my fate and vowed to take revenge for the murder of Ginevra Weasley.

My lover. My redemption.

When I returned to the Academy, there was nothing left for me to do but to immerse myself in my lessons, in the hopes that all the knowledge I gained be used to eradicate all living Death Eaters. I asked to be assigned to Zaubereiministerium in Berlin, rather than in the UK. My reason was pretty simple — there was nothing left for me there. For four years, I had been active in the capture of over six hundred followers of Voldemort all across Germany, Austria, Italy and the Netherlands, coordinating with our Muggle counterparts as well. The call of the flesh were rare, choosing to sate myself only with prostitutes that suited my fancy. Though my body begged with its nethernal urges, my mind and heart belonged to only one person.

Thus bringing me to this side of the world…

Watching the local punters enter the brothel from a distance, I stared at a picture from the case file handed to me a week ago. My commanding officer gave me specific orders to have the whole six-district inspected immediately. The war was about to end, but that didn’t mean that Voldemort’s forces had decided to go into hiding. Die Rote Tür’s owner was a Russian named Ivan Zhukov, a respected member of the Viennese “tourist” community, and once lead a group of Russian Death Eaters during Voldemort’s first reign of power. I sent my men under my jurisdiction to visit the place and take pictures with the women there, to be used as evidence in case the rumours were true.

I kept one photo though. It had a familiar-looking redhead sitting in the parlor, drinking a martini, her brown eyes sad despite the smile on her face.

Lighting a cigarette, I entered the brothel quietly. It was bright and noisy, just like your average British pub, lousy Austrian music playing in the background while pissed plonkers oogled at a young blonde dancing on top of the bar. It was packed crowd, and I scanned the area to see if she was there, amidst the snogging and chattering women and their escorts for the night.

“Willkommen zu die Rote Tür, Herr?” the waiter approached me, pulling out a chair for me. “Siehen Sie jemand, das...”

“Wissen Sie, wo sie ist?” I pointed to her in the picture. He looked at me quizicallly “Natalya? Sie ist nicht hie…”

“Heißt sie jetzt so? Wo ist sie?” I demanded, clenching my fists. Is she turning tricks tonight? I imagined her throwing her head back, arching her spine as she and her client fuck. I sucked harder on the cigarette, trying to eradicate the image.

“Warum?” he said skeptically, a routine in this place. “Ich ruf den Manager wenn sie jetzt nicht gleich...”

“Nein!” I said, putting fifty Euros on his hand to shut him up, telling him that he’d have fifty more if he’d tell me where she was.

With a cocky grin plastered to his face, he sketched a map to her apartment on a little street in the fourth district. For the first time in seven years, I was nervous and excited to see her. I had a hunch, that somehow she’s alive, and that she was right here all along, waiting for me to rescue her.

Her knight in dark armour, she once whispered to me in my sleep.

Suddenly, the air was moist and the city fog slowly faded as heavy rain thundered down on me. Her apartment was on the second floor in an old building on Schwindgasse, right around the corner from the Upper and Lower Belvedere. I ran through the puddles, and entered the building, climbing the darkened stairwell. The door to her hallway creaked, and I heard the sound of my own breathing. Standing outside her door, I wiped the palm of my hand across my hair, an old habit. I knocked once, loudly, then stepped back.

Lights spilled out beneath the door, across the puddle of water that had gathered around my feet. The door opened, her dressing gown only half done up, her flaming red hair tousled.

“Ginny.”

Despite the dark circles in her eyes, she still looked as beautiful as I last saw underneath Hogwarts. “Draco,” she whispered, as if sound would chase me way, a ghost from her past. She reached up, touching my face, remembering. “Oh my God…”

“I came back for you. For us.” I reached out for her, drawing her to my chest, afraid she’d evaporate unless I touched her, feeling her soft skin once more. She curled her arms around my neck and kissing me everywhere until our lips crossed paths, her mouth warm, just as I had always remembered it to be.

I pulled at the back of her dressing gown, kneaded with strong hands, the soft flesh in the curve between her buttocks and thighs. I lifted her easily, wrapping her legs around me, resting her head on my shoulder. I kicked the door shut behind me, carrying her to the entrance of her bedroom. Releasing her, I leaned momentarily against the door frame, my face beside hers. I looked back at her, and her brown eyes searched his own, a combination of softness and deep loneliness. “I thought I’d never see you again. That you’ve forgotten about me.”

“Shh. It’s all right, I’m here.”

“How did you…” Tears formed in her eyes, fear etched on her face. “Die Rote Tür”

“Ginny…” I reached out for her, her head buried in my chest. “You don’t have to…”

“I was so alone. I did what I had to do, to survive…”

Wiping her tears away, I brushed my lips to hers, whispering. “I don’t care. I love you. I never stopped.”

Ginny took my face in her hands, and gently kissed me. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back against the frame, my own hands shaking as I pushed the hair from her neck and ran my fingers down her shoulder.

I started kissing her neck, tracing my fingers down between her breasts, slipping them inside her gown. Moaning breathlessly, she arched back, offering her entire body to me.

Kneeling, I captured her right breast on my mouth while I fondled her left. She breathed in again, massaging my scalp, pulling me closer. I kissed her further down brushing her ribs and then her smooth, flat stomach, her hands gripping me harder as my own ran up her thighs and over her hips. She guided me firmly, until my lips touched the soft hair between her legs.

Each movement of my tongue between her folds was matched by the swaying of her lips, moaning loudly. Leaning back, she held unto the door frame behind her with one hand and my head with the other, fingers grasping my hair.

“Draco…” she gasped, wantonly. “Oh gods… I cant…”

The world stood still for a moment, as if time never existed. All we had was each other, and I intended to keep it that way. Standing up, I pulled up her dressing gown, wanting to see her naked and aroused because of me. Throwing the robe to the floor, she then pushed me and started tearing my clothes off, removing my rain-soaked jacket and fumbling at the buttons of my shirt, as I struggled to take off my trousers. Tumbling into bed, Ginny kissed me again, her lips on my cheeks and neck, my shoulders and my chest, her warm, soft body flattened against mine.

We moved slowly, relishing the moment. Ginny shuts her eyes, her arms above her head, her faced tipped to the side, her lips parted. She raised her legs and brushed them against my hips before opening her eyes, touching my face with a searing kiss. “It was you. It was always you.”

“I know. I know,” Thrusting deeper, still slowly for there was no urgency. We’re here, and I felt that we would never have to stop if I went faster, that we never need to let the feeling go. She hardened her grip on my hips, clasped her legs behind me, then sat up, kissing me passionately on the mouth, then the cheek, breathing into my ear. “I love you.” she hushed.

Hearing those words again, I lost all control. Moments later, I collapsed on top of her, a trembling in my every muscle as we both reached our climax. Falling down next to her, arms still around her, I ran a hand over her shoulder. “I love you Ginny. We’ll never be apart again. Ever”

She smiled a little, holding me close. “Promise.”

“Ich verspreche.” I whispered, pulling her up and kissing her.

AUTHOR NOTES

1) Promnice Manor does exist... and is now one of the most expensive hotels in all of Poland! If you wanna see what it looks like, here's a

link

to its official website.

2) Many thanks to the lovely Szaranea for the German phrases! I'll always be one of your biggest fans and I'm forever in your depth for this one! *hugs*

3) I also borrowed some of the street names of Venice from John Irving's THE WORLD ACCORDING TO GARP since I haven't been there before...

4) I wrote this fic as an entry to SunshineFanfics's Birthday Fic contest. So I would also like to dedicate this fic to her as well -- if she hadn't decided to have a contest, I would still be an "non-existent" D/G writer... so thank you, Sam!!! *hugs*

5) I'm currently working on making this a multi-chaptered version on this one and it'll be called Die Rote Tür. I'm done already with chapter one and will be updating it here very soon!