Disclaimer: Own no more than last time, well except I think my bank balance may have about 1p interest!! Woo woo. Don't sue me for it.
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Draco stalked down the halls of Hogwarts towards the Slytherin Common Room. He had left breakfast early, unable to bear the repression of the Great Hall. His robes billowed out behind and, unbeknownst to him, he created the very picture of menace and terror. He kept his arms casually by his side as he walked - this was the upright stride of a Malfoy. He got to the portrait and merely levelled a gaze at the guardian. Without need of a password the entrance swung open. Draco smiled and stepped through.
Walking through the deserted Common Room - all the Slytherins were still at breakfast - he made his way to his own quarters. Behind the thick oak of the Hogwarts door, Draco had ordered the house elves to assemble a curtain rail, from which thick crimson drapes hung to the floor. Bringing together his hands he threw his arms wide, opening the curtains in a fashion he'd witnessed his father use for as long as he could remember. He walked immediately up to a heavy gilded mirror that hung opposite his (four-poster) bed. Not for the first time Draco relished the joy of a private room. This term he had managed to bully the house elves into assigning him these quarters. He didn't know whether Dumbledore was aware of this. He didn't care.
Once again Draco pored over his features in the mirror. The old glass was softened and his image was blurred slightly in reflection. He reached out a hand to trace his features. The Malfoy nose and chin that he shared with his father. He blinked once. The eyes of his mother. He watched himself with these eyes, staring deep into his own pupils until the image wavered beyond recognition. Pulling back his fist he slammed it into the wall. The cracks formed joined others and small flakes of plaster floated to the floor.
Potter. He ruined everything. Everything. Draco could feel the overwhelming tides of anger wash up and down his body. This was his world. The resemblance to his father began a crushing sense of inadequacy that prompted unpleasant questions about his own sense of identity. The only way to exorcise this anger was through pain, the pain of others. When that pain was gone, there was an emptiness that prompted introspection. Introspection led him to the spectacle of his father and the rage began anew. Draco was tired of this vicious cycle but he knew no other way. He would keep feeding his soul with the bile of darkest anger until he knew nothing more. When Draco was blotted out to become a Malfoy, when the Youngest Malfoy could join his kin at the side of Dark Lord, then the pain and frustration would end. One way or another.
With a final glance in the mirror, Draco assured himself that he had worked up sufficient frenzy and left the room. He made his way back to the weaving spread of corridors, relentless seeking new prey like a ravening wolf in a sheep pen. He could feel the bile begin its acrid tang at the back of this throat and once again a grim smile spread across his aristocratic features.
**
Ginny Weasley had finished her breakfast and was walking, with an armload of books, towards the library. She had prolonged her meal, though not hungry, in desperately reassuring Elissa that her brother's secret was safe. Elissa had refused to elaborate on the details of his imprisonment but Ginny could only assume the worst. Now, wary of falling behind, she had left the rest of Gryffindors at breakfast and was ready to start her day in the library.
As she approached the main hallway of the school, she found the wandering stairway to the library. Wary of it changing direction, she kept her eyes fixed on the target and hurried towards the base. Wrong move. Her path was suddenly obstructed by what felt like a wall of metal. Wrong-footed she fell, scattering papers across the hall.
"What the…" she fumed, raising her gaze from the floor.
Her eyes met Draco's raging expression and, despite all her vows to be strong, she gulped in fear.
"Little Weasel I've had just about enough contact with your muggle-loving filth as can be tolerated. Even at my feet where you belong I find you nauseating."
Ginny stared at him, watching his mouth twist in pleasure at the words. This enjoyment gave her strength she'd never known before.
"Shut your face Daddy's Boy!" she spat.
Instantly she knew she'd touched a nerve. His face turned whiter than snow and his eyes darkened with an incalculable rage.
"What did you say?" he asked in a low silky voice.
"I told you to keep your comments to yourself…Daddy's Boy" Ginny was in too deep to back down now.
Draco suddenly took two steps towards her and grabbed her by the collar of her robe. He pulled her towards him, lifting her onto her toes, watching the discomfort flush her face.
"You're a little maggot in a big ocean Weasley. I can crush you." This whispered statement terrified her. "Come with me"
This wasn't a request. Ginny felt herself dragged up the stairs and pushed unceremoniously into the deserted library. Fear deadened her limbs and although she opened her mouth to speak, her lips were too dry to form words. She felt her back thud into contact with a wall of books, a sharp edge cutting painfully across her spine. Draco leaned towards her, overpowering her tiny form with his strong body. He casually leaned his right forearm across her throat, his left hand across her mouth.
"Now Weasley, I am going to talk and you are going to listen."
**
Draco relished the coursing adrenaline pumping rapidly through his veins. He could feel his temples throbbing with the syncopated rhythm of his heart. The little muggle-lover was whimpering a little in fear, and he savoured the sight and smell of her pain.
He pushed against her a little harder, piecing together an attack from which neither she nor her filthy family would be able to recover.
"I never want to see your pasty little face around these corridors again. I never want to see your brother's ugly ginger mug in my school. The two of you are going to pack up and leave this place or…"
He couldn't finish the sentence because he found himself flung back.
**
Ginny was running on a high. Her blood pumped powerfully through her veins, her arms and legs tingled and she felt light-headed. The white-hot rage that coursed through her had imbued her with an almost superhuman strength. Pushing off from the wall with all her might she had managed to dislodge the arrogant git while he relished his vicious speech.
Seeing him sprawled across the floor before her, she felt powerful. She saw indecision, uncertainty and a little fear cross those grey eyes. She saw Draco reduced to a boy before her.
Withdrawing her wand she pointed it toward him, ready to finish the job…
**
Draco tried to pull together his wits and the tattered pieces of his dignity. Pulling himself up by the corner of a table, he watched as the Weasel withdrew her wand from inside her cloak.
Defensively he began to do the same.
**
Without need of a spell Ginny felt the rage in her body channel through her wand and spew from its tip like a cascade of brightest fireworks.
**
Draco watched his wand explode in a torrent of red sparkles. They arched their way across the room to counter the spell of the little redhead.
**
The spells met in mid air and with a deafening explosion of pure white energy, little fireball droplets began to shot off at tangents around the library. The tattered volumes acted like dry tinder and fires soon raged in various corners of the room. The force of impact knocked over the towering shelves, causing a domino cascade around the edges of the room. As the walls surrounding them began to collapse, Ginny looked up fearfully and watched her death descend. A hand grabbed her upper arm, painfully and dragged her underneath an old pine desk. The drumming and din sounded like a raging thunderstorm and Ginny closed her eyes.
**
"Look out!" screamed Harry, tugging Hermione into a corner of the room. Of all the mornings to start work early! His head banged into the wall and pain seared his vision. He saw flames licking at the carpet nearby but couldn't muster the energy to shout.
**
Fade to black. Nothing.
**
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