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Draco Malfoy stalked along the passageway, a sneer marring his face for the benefit of anyone who happened to be looking at him. He passed through the grimy hall without looking at the assortment of … things… that were in there. His eyes were fixed on the door at the opposite end of the passage, where inside a filthy room his father waited. Face devoid of expression, he sauntered in without knocking and kicked the door closed behind him. "Those things stink father" he said shortly, expressing his distaste for the assortment of creatures that his father called his personal guards.
Lucius only raised an eyebrow, not looking up from the parchment he was studying. "I know" he drawled in a bored voice "but they are necessary." Draco snorted. "Necessary?!" he sneered "Who do you think you're going to be attacked by? You're getting as bad as Dolohov…" he trailed off as he caught sight of what his father was looking at. It was the front page of today's Daily Prophet. Seeing his son's glance, Lucius handed him the paper and studied Draco's face.
Draco took the paper from his father and stared at it. On the front page looking up at him was three pictures: Bellatrix, himself, and a burning muggle school. Although he kept his face expressionless, inside he was fighting a storm of emotions. Oh Ginny he thought. He knew that she would be reading this story right now, wondering how he could do this, wondering why he was doing this. He realised that his father was watching his face closely, looking for signs that this affected him, signs of weakness. But Draco's face betrayed nothing. He threw the paper down on the desk and raised an eyebrow. "Quite a write-up." he commented dryly.
His father nodded. "They know too much." he said, his voice cold "There's an insider".
Draco raised both eyebrows this time. "Obviously" he said. "Any ideas?"
His father just frowned slightly and shock his head. "But I intend to find out." He said dangerously. "If you have any suspicions, tell me. Oh, and before you go…what's your opinion on Snape?" He asked. Draco just shrugged and replied with the usual neutral views that meant that he didn't know what his father wanted him to say. Lucius looked pointedly towards the door and went back to studying some important looking papers.
Draco scowled and strode out, slamming the door behind him. He knew that his father did not suspect him, after all why would he? But he did expect Draco to find out who it was who was giving this information to the other side. And of course Draco knew. He wasn't doing it of course, he only told Dumbledore the really important long term plans and aspirations of Voldemort, he didn't deal with petty attacks on muggles - that was Snape's area. Draco wondered just how far his father trusted Snape. He suddenly realised that maybe Snape wasn't so immune to suspicion as he liked to think. And once the suspicion is there, it is never fully stilled. How long until they confront him? Draco mused. Snape should be warned. But he didn't want to be seem talking to him though. And there was the problem that Snape knew that Draco was working for Dumbledore - Voldemort and Lucius would find that out if they decided to 'question' Snape. No one could withhold information when 'questioned' by Lucius Malfoy. His methods were quite imaginative.
Draco had been lost in thought, not really paying attention to his surroundings until he suddenly bumped into someone. He blinked and looked around. It was Snape he had collided with as he passed Draco in the corridor with Dolohov. "Watch your step Snape" Draco sneered, locking eyes with his former potions master. Snape just stared back then swept away, black robes billowing, back in deep conversation with Dolohov. Draco hoped he had picked up on the real meaning of his comment, he couldn't afford to make mistakes.
~*~*~
Ginny sat at her desk, elbows propped up on the morning copy of the Daily Prophet. Head in hands, she closed her eyes, she couldn't bear to see the picture of Draco, her lovely Draco, next to that burning school any more. The article had been worse than she thought. She had been up all night, worrying about what the paper would say about Draco. But the writer - Rita Skeeter of course - had made Draco out to be some kind of monster. And now Fudge had ordered Draco's immediate capture, at any cost! He was top of the list of Most Wanted, along with his father and Voldemort himself. They were blaming every single death on Draco, saying it was all his fault. Silent tears fell through Ginny's fingers onto the paper, smudging the ink. She wondered how Draco must feel right now, seeing such accusations by his name. He would know that she must have seen the story, and had no idea how she would react.
There was a knock on her bedroom door and Ron walked in, as usual not waiting for her to open the door. Ginny scowled at him, but he just looked back, oblivious to the death glare his sister was sending him. "Ginny are you ok?" Ron asked, a copy of the Prophet in his hand. Ginny offered him a shaky smile, which turned out to be more of a grimace. "Yes Ron, I'm fine. I've got things to do" she said, gesturing to the piles of books on Healing in front of her. "So if you wouldn't mind…?" she continued, pointing to the door. Ron made a face at her and slouched off without protest, he was never good at this kind of thing.
Ginny sighed and reached for her wand. She waved it as the newspaper in front of her and saw it vanish. Satisfied, she pulled one of her new books in front of her and started reading. She was studying to become a Healer, she decided that she definitely did not want to fight like her brother, Harry and Hermione, there was too much fighting already. She wanted to make a difference a different way, preferring to fix the damage done by fighting, not create it.
She had just began taking notes on a chapter in her book when an owl flew in through her open window. Ginny looked curiously at it as it landed on her desk. She didn't recognise it, and she only ever got letters from her closest friends, and this owl didn't belong to any of them. She untied the rolled up parchment form its outstretched leg and it flew off immediately - whoever sent the letter clearly did not want a response. Ginny broke the seal on the parchment with a spell and unrolled it. A guarded expression was on her face when she saw the saw the handwriting, not knowing what to expect.
Ginny,
By now I'm sure you have read today's Prophet and couldn't miss the front page story. I want to explain to you that the story written by Skeeter is not the full truth. Yes, I am organising the attacks on the muggles, and yes, I was at each one. I know how much you don't want to believe it, but most of that article it true Ginny. I am doing those things. I wont pretend it's not true just to spare your feelings, its not right.
I won't make excuses. I won't tell you it wasn't me. I can't do that. But you know that I do not want to have any part in these attacks, and I wish I could tell you that I'm not involved, that they've got it all wrong. But I can't. I've killed people Ginny. A lot of innocent people. I'm not proud of it, but I have done it, and I will do it again. And I can't escape that - and neither can you while I have your heart. So I'm giving it back to you. I'm releasing you Ginny, go out and find someone better, someone who will not break your heart into a million pieces every time you unfold the newspaper in the morning.
What I'm trying to say is that what we had is gone. Its over. You can't change that, please don't try to fight it. You don't need my love. And I don't need yours. What good will it do me other than add another burden of guilt on my shoulders?
Don't try to contact me again, there is nothing more for either of us to say. This is the way its got to be, and the way I want it to be. Now you're free to love an honest, decent man without hundreds of crimes to his name, someone who doesn't have a lovely kiss from a dementor awaiting him in the near future.
So this is goodbye. Now you can see my face in the paper and hate me along with everyone else. Because I don't want your love, or your support or your smiles. And I don't love you any more. Goodbye Ginny
D.M.