DISCLAIMERS: this story line (Draco as prison guard, Ginny as prisoner) isn't mine. It comes from "While You Were Sleeping" which is a GREAT story, and that's why I wrote this.
THANKS: and much love to all my absolutely stunning reviewers, including LADY OF SLYTHERIN who is quoted/paraphrased in this chapter, when Draco gets confused trying to figure out to whom or where his loyalties lie.
CHAPTER 6 - Desperate Times . . .
When Draco returned to the room that afternoon, he sat down at his desk and began to pour over a large scroll, still ignoring Ginny. His face still burned with the anger and disappointment from the day before, and she couldn't work up the courage to ask him to help her brother. Ginny had bitten her fingernails to the quick, worrying about Percy, wondering if her plan was really the best way to go about helping him.
The days dragged like years, and it seemed that each day, the death of another one of her friends and former classmates was reported. Seamus, Padma, Dennis Creevey, Sally-Anne Perks, Morag MacDougal, Lee Jordan's mother, Emma Dobbs and her grandfather, the list didn't stop. Ginny finally forced herself to stop listening, plugging her ears and humming each time a knock sounded on Draco's door.
"You can't stand it anymore, little Weasley?" Draco asked her one afternoon, after another knock reached his door.
She shook her head. "I don't want to know."
"I thought that's what you Gryffindor's did," he smirked. "I thought you spent all your time caring about your friends."
"I do care about them," she said quietly. "But I can't stop their deaths from in here, can I?"
Draco's eyes narrowed. "So you want to go back to the dungeon?"
"No, no," she said quickly. "I don't. I couldn't do anything about it from their either."
He watched her for a moment and then turned, sitting at his desk. "Then don't complain."
I wasn't, she wanted to tell him as she watched him out of the corner of her eye while she finished cleaning his boots, this time with a rag.
"Master," she said hoarsely, kneeling in front of him.
"What?" he snapped, after several long, silent seconds.
"I wanted to make one small request of you," she told him, her head hanging low. He stayed silent, so she pressed on. "My brother, I was wondering about him, if you could check on him. Make sure he is alright."
"You mean, if he is alive?" he asked maliciously.
"Yes," she whispered, staring at the floor, her stomach churning with fear.
"I don't think so. I have enough to do without running around to check on your little friends."
"He is my brother, Master."
Draco stared at the top of her head, considering. "No."
"Please, I am prepared to do anything you ask of me. Just grant me this one small thing." Tears formed in her eyes as she reached for his trousers, her fingers trembling and fumbling as she undid the button and zipper of his trousers.
"What in the bloody hell are you doing?" he demanded as her face disappeared into his lap.
***
Draco froze as her warm, velvety mouth tried to take in his sudden erection. On instinct, he felt his fingers snake their way through her hair, and then "No!"
Draco jumped out of his seat and shoved her away. The ache in his groin intensified as he zipped his trousers, forcing himself to think of anything, but Ginny Weasley's mouth wrapped around him. He took a deep breath, and then allowed his eyes to travel to the Weasley girl, and there she was, tears silently rolling off her face, still knelt before him.
"Take me," she whispered finally. "But please, not my brother."
Draco observed her with contempt.
"What I don't understand," he said finally, fastening his trousers, "is why you would lower yourself to the level of a common whore for your brother."
He tried to feel some sense of satisfaction as she cried harder, but instead he felt a sharp twist of knife like pain in his stomach, a sensation that was becoming all too familiar.
"Why would you do that?" he questioned, standing up and circling her. "Why?" Part of him wanted to reach down and shake her until her teeth rattled, but the other part wanted to reassure her that he would never, ever ask her to do anything like that.
"Stop crying and answer me! What in the bloody hell would make you think I want that from you? Don't you think if I wanted you just for a shag I would have taken it long ago? Answer me!"
"Please don't hit me Master. I just want to help him. I love him," she wept.
Draco watched her closely. He didn't believe her. "And Lovegood? What about her?"
"She is my friend. She would do the same for me."
A feeling not unlike jealousy overtook him. His friends, if he could call them that, they would never do such a thing for him. They would not risk themselves to help another. And neither would I, he realized shallowly.
"Stand up!" he demanded, sharply.
He watched as the sobbing girl struggled to her feet, and stood in front of him, her head bowed and her form looking broken.
"I am never going to ask you for that," he hissed, his hands grasping her shoulders and shaking her lightly. "Never. I am not like the rest of these fools here. Don't ever do that again."
"I'm sorry, I just thought . . ."
"You thought I was just like them."
"No," she shook her head.
"Why?" he demanded. "Did I ever fuck you? I could, if I'd wanted. There were plenty of chances."
"I don't know!" she cried harder. "I just wanted to help Percy!"
Draco turned his back on her in disgust and drew in a deep breath. He didn't understand what was going on inside of him. His entire life, he'd been trained to serve the Dark Lord, serve him only. That Mudbloods and Mudblood lovers were equally abhor able, and yet, this crying red headed girl in front of him did something to him, something he didn't quite understand. For as long as he could recall, his father raised him with his loyalties being devoted to only one thing. But now, now his father was a liar, a cheater, now when he looked at the Weasley girl his stomach twisted in an unfamiliar, but pleasant way. Maybe I'm going insane, he thought bitterly.
Draco didn't understand how she could give herself up so willingly just to save someone else. He wouldn't do it, and he didn't know anyone who would do it for him. But then, he wondered, where did his loyalties lie? Not with his father anymore. And, when he thought about it, he wasn't so sure they still lied with the Dark Lord.
Slowly he turned around and found her still standing in the same spot, watching him. Without thinking, he stepped forward and put his arms around her, pulling her into a fierce hug and taking himself by surprise. "I'll make-"
"Malfoy! Malfoy!" An insistent pounding at his door cut his words short.
He let go of Ginny and she wiped her tears off her face as he strode across the room and threw the door open.
There stood Nott and Goyle, with Peter Pettigrew panting to catch up.
"What?" Draco demanded.
"It's not good," Goyle began.
"Not at all," Nott interrupted.
"Your father," Pettigrew gasped. "Your father. They found him this morning."
"What?" Draco hissed.
"They went into Hogsmead, we heard that some of the Order was hiding there, and things went wrong. Everything went wrong," Pettigrew continued.
"He's gone," Goyle finished.
Ginny scrambled out of his way as Draco marched across the room. He pulled on his cloak and took his hooded mask. "I don't believe you," he hissed, following the Death Eaters out of the room.
She crawled into Draco's chair and slumped over, ready to let herself finish crying, but no tears came. Now, now that it was all over, she realized how foolish her big plan was. He was right. If he had wanted that from her, he could have taken it at any time. She searched for the rage inside, the anger that fueled her days and kept her going, but instead, she felt a lonely aching in her chest, and unwillingly pitied Draco, praying she never had to be told that her own father was gone. Her stubborn red headed genes fought against her growing sympathy, wanting to kill Malfoy for keeping her locked away, but the broken, prisoner Ginny reminded her of what he was saving her from. Besides, her mind was still reeling, trying to discern why in Merlin's name Draco Malfoy had hugged her. He had been more protective of her lately, sure, but physical contact? Willing physical contact? It just didn't make sense.
Four days ago, Draco had taken her to the kitchen, informing her that the prisoner who had been cooking was unavailable, so if she wanted to eat, she had better cook. "We'll find a suitable cook soon, but for right now, you'll have to do it," he had told her.
She knew better than to ask who it was, because she was sure they had died an unnatural death.
The walk to the kitchen was the first time in weeks that Ginny had left his room. The last time she had left it, she had been forced to watch Percy's torture. The halls were dark and depressing, and the air was punctuated occasionally by a muffled scream or cry, and once, a laugh.
"I'm not going to poison you," Ginny told Draco with a forced smile as he hovered next to her while she clumsily peeled potatoes.
"It's not you I'm worried about," he snapped, stepping closer.
She figured out what he meant when three other Death Eaters entered the kitchen, two men Ginny didn't know, and Marcus Flint. Ginny didn't know much about Flint, he had been in his seventh year when she was in her first year, but she could see that time had changed him none. They watched her with interest in their eyes, laughing and making gestures Ginny tried to ignore.
"Why haven't I seen you in the dungeons?" Flint finally asked her.
She remained silent, and Draco snapped "Maybe you should get your eyes checked" except he said it with a few words so colorful, Ginny could barely dare to think them.
Flint shook his head obstinately. "I would have noticed that red hair. I would have checked to see if it went all the way down."
The other men laughed, and Draco let out a snort that sounded more like he was choking than laughing. Ginny shuttered inside her robes and silently thanked Draco.
"I'll be looking for you tonight," Flint told her, licking his lips when she left.
Now, Ginny was stuck again. She had only formulated one plan to help her brother and it failed her. She didn't know what else to do. She was hungry again, but there was no food, so she lowered her body from the chair and went to her now familiar spot on the floor by Draco's bed, curled up under the thin blanket and slept.
When she awoke, Draco was sitting in his chair. She watched him noiselessly, waiting for a sign of what he had discovered
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