A/N: Thank you for R/R the first chapter. This new chapter is a bit slow, but it is leading somewhere, have no fear. The artwork was not done by me, as I cannot draw to save my life. Pansy was drawn by Hermionedolphin and I borrowed Draco and Ginny from some called Lysel.
Sailor_Girl, you are right, the killer is most certainly not a gargoyle. ;) I think that you misunderstood though. He does not live in the walls but rather he feels as if he is a prisoner where he resides, and the walls are his prison bars of sorts.
Enjoy!
Chapter 2
Christmas Eve
"Hello sweetheart!" Molly Weasley greeted her daughter as Ginny apparated into the Borrow. It was 7 p.m. on
Christmas Eve and Ginny could see that everybody had their hands full doing something or the other. Molly, herself, was
bustling around the kitchen and had given Ginny a very floury kiss turning the apple of one of her cheeks completely
white.
"Mommy," Ginny complained, "you got flour all over my face!"
"Oh hush now," Molly scolded her youngest, "can't your own mother kiss you in peace?" she asked as she stood trying to balance a stick of butter and a jar of pickles in one hand while beating some eggs with the other.
"Oh my gosh, have you seen the pink ribbons? Oh where are the lavender candies? Oh, Fred put that down! Where is….oh, Merlin help me!" screamed a very frantic looking Hermione, as she ran into the kitchen. Her hair looked even more frizzy than usual, Ginny had noted.
"Sweetheart, calm down or you'll make yourself sick!" Harry exclaimed as he came running up behind her. He placed a kiss on her cheek as he hugged her from behind. "The most important thing is that I have you there."
At this, Hermione seemed to calm down a bit and was actually able to smile. And, as if for the first time noticing Ginny there, Hermione turned around and greeted the younger woman. "Hey Gin," she said, "got all your shopping done?"
"Hi," Ginny smiled back at both Harry and Hermione. "Yes I did. And I got some good ones too!"
In addition to Christmas, final preparations were being made for Harry and Hermione's upcoming wedding, which was due to take place on Sunday, only two days away. Hermione had been nothing but frantic for the last couple of days. Ginny was Hermione's maid of honour. She had originally thought that Hermione would have absolutely no taste in clothes and had been afraid to see what her bride's maid dress would look like but when Hermione showed it to her she was pleasantly surprised. A knee length baby pink number, it was strapless and fit beautifully in all the right places. She had gotten some matching strappy shoes and accessories to go with them. All in all her outfit looked marvelous.
One by one the Weasley clan greeted Ginny and soon she found herself, like the others, absorbed in chores. In fact she was so absorbed in them that she didn't notice that she had started peeling a garden gnome instead of a potato, until Fred and George burst out in laughter and the little gnome jumped out of her hands, waved a fist furiously at her and then ran off.
"I'll get you two for this!" she screamed at the twins.
"First you'll have to catch us," George replied.
"How about I catch you one of these?" Ginny asked flailing her fist in the air as she chased the twins around a sofa.
In the background, Molly smiled at the familiar sight and sighed in contentment.
……………….
Draco Malfoy stepped out from the cold snow and into the warm Malfoy manor. Stepping inside he was greeted by Deety, one of his house elves, who was already standing there to take his coat.
"Begging your pardon, Mr. Malfoy, Sir," she began, "dinner is being served and Missus Malfoy is waiting for Mr. Malfoy in the dining room."
Upon his arrival into the dining room, Draco noted that both he and his mother had a guest, Pansy Parkinson. He silently berated his mother for inviting her and made a mental note to speak to her once their guest had left.
"Mother. Pansy," he said as he nodded at them both in greeting. "How are you doing this evening mother?" he turned to face Narcissa.
"I am splendid, my dear and how was your day?" she asked as she patted her lips daintily with a napkin.
Not wanting to discuss his case in front of Pansy, he said a simple, "fine." Then he turned to the Parkinson woman. "And to what do I owe the pleasure this afternoon?" he asked in a smooth as silk voice.
Pansy swooned a bit under his stare. "Narcissa invited me," she answered a bit breathless.
On a first name basis with my mother eh, Parkinson, or are you just being a rude git?
"I thought you could use some company," his mother finished for her. "You are always alone, I am worried about you, Draco."
Company for me and every other man she comes into contact with.
"Oh don't be, mother," he reassured her. "I am perfectly fine on my own."
The rest of dinner went by with small chitchat, after which Narcissa excused herself while Draco was left to entertain Pansy in the living room. The Parkinson woman of course, once Narcissa had left the room, had made no bones of why she was there. She made a beeline for Draco and sat on the arm of the chair he was sitting on.
If she thinks desperation is a turn on she is sadly mistaken.
"What do you want, Parkinson?" he asked.
"Isn't in obvious, big boy?" she asked as she her hand along his arm. "I want you."
"I am not available," Draco said as a matter-of-factly as he peeled her hand off his own.
"So, so uptight," she said as she waved an index finger at him. "I can fix that," she said with a sly grin. She slid off the chair and slipped off the white shirt and green skirt that she was wearing to reveal an extremely short petticoat that she had on underneath. Then, moving like the snake she was, Pansy slid onto the floor, propped her face onto her hands and motioned with her eyes for Draco to come join her.
……………….
After dinner, Ginny sat in the living room playing with her one year old nephew, Kyle. "Hi baby," she said
while making soft cooing noises at him. The baby giggled and made some gurgling sounds as his auntie kissed his cheeks.
Kyle was Bill and Fleur's son, their only, after years of trying to conceive. He was the apple of his parents'
eyes, especially now that Fleur found out that she could not have any more children. Kyle was the first Weasley not to
have red hair. He was blonde like his mother but his face was every bit a Weasley. He was his father's son. Fleur
couldn't be happier since she thought that her husband was the best looking man on the planet.
Ron came over and sat down next to his sister putting an arm around her. "You know, we have to find you a man," he said.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Why is it that all you married people think that us single people need setting up?" she stuck out her tongue at him.
"Now, now, Gin," Harry teased as he sat on the other side of her, "Ron's right. I mean you're not getting any younger."
"Harry James Potter!" she exclaimed. She grabbed a throw pillow and swatted him with it.
"Yes," Ron agreed, "I can see some wrinkles forming too."
"Ron!" she complained as she aimed the pillow at his head. He ducked and it flew past him hitting Hermione, who was engrossed in her wedding list at the time. Hermione looked over at them, furious, when she was hit by another pillow. This time the culprit was Harry. She ran over intending to swat him when he grabbed her, pulled her into his lap and kissed her on the lips. Ever the trendsetter, Harry's move caused a chain reaction and Ron grabbed Luna and placed a kiss on her as well. Fleur came over, got Kyle from Ginny and went over to her husband. Pretty soon the entire house was snogging each other, all except for one. Ginny decided that she had had enough of the sickeningly sweet goodness all around her and slipped out, unnoticed, from the Borrow.
She breathed in the cold night air as she stepped outside and immediately wished that she had taken a jacket with her. She was however willing to risk the cold rather than face the hormone crazy occupants in the house again. She folded her arms and concentrated on looking up at the sky instead. It was laden with beautiful stars and she smiled when she found Polaris, the North Star. As much as she knew Ron and Harry were joking earlier she really did crave finding someone. Everyone in there seemed so happy and while Ginny was content on her own, she just wanted that special someone to share her life with. She closed her eyes tight and made a wish on Polaris, and as if in recognition of Ginny's wish, the North Star gave a little twinkle.
……………….
"Control yourself, Parkinson," Draco said as he looked down at Pansy in disgust. He stepped over her in an
effort to leave the room but she grabbed his leg, stopping him mid stride. Draco arched an eyebrow at her audacity.
"Oh come on, baby," she teased, "you know you want me."
"What I want," Draco replied, "is to get rid of you. Now please, put on some clothes. Just the sight of you half naked is making me want to throw up."
Pansy frowned, but gathered up her clothes and stalked out of the house. Draco smiled to himself. She really was a poor excuse for a human being. Maybe he should have been nicer to her, but it probably would have encouraged her and he did not want her and the hundred and one diseases she probably had from sleeping with an equal number of men, contaminating his house. He also made a mental note to throw away the dishes she had eaten in that evening should they too be contaminated by her filth.
He stepped outside to clear his head a bit. Draco knew that Narcissa had meant well but she evidentially she had not checked her crème de la crème list in a long time as Pansy Parkinson was long gone from it. He looked up at the stars. They had looked so perfect tonight. If only he could find someone like them in his own life, someone flawless who shone with pure light. But even as he thought about this, he knew that his wishes were in vain, for even the stars were not without fault.
……………….
He was beginning to grow weary. He needed to kill again, and soon, at that. He missed the smell of blood, especially when it was blood that he was responsible for drawing. Some would call him sick, some would call him twisted, and yes he was all of that and more but he made no excuses for it. In fact he enjoyed it. What started off as a revenge scheme turned out to be the thing that would make him feel the most alive. But he was not stupid. He still kept his eyes on the prize and he knew when he was done the satisfaction would be greater than the sweet intoxication of blood. But his scheme was not yet ripe and in the meantime he would have to let the blood and the pain be his relief. As for now, he allowed himself to be confined to this prison where his very existence rotted away, since the walls were a combination of everything he stood against. But he was a prisoner there of his own free will, and despite the guards posted at the walls, he came and left as he
pleased.
