Chapter eight, and several days ahead of schedule! Think of it as a birthday present to Fred and George Weasley-who doesnÕt love them? Oh, and expect chapter nine soon as well. Enjoy!
Okay, and when I upload it, some weird symbol appears next to the apostrophes. Here: DracoÕs hot. See-weird thingy. So, it came down to going through it now and fixing them all, which I wouldnÕt have time to do until tomorrow, and then wouldnÕt upload until Tuesday, so I figured you guys would rather look past the weird symbol then wait two more days. IÕll go fix it when I have more time.
Chapter Eight
Ginny stared at the roast duck on her plate, but she wasnÕt hungry. In fact, the thought of food itself made her nauseous. She looked over at Draco, who was taking elegant bites. How could he have an appetite after what just happened? He had just found out that she never loved Harry, not in the way everyone thought she did, and his only response was to eat?
Instead of grabbing her fork, Ginny grabbed her wine, hoping it would calm her nerves. She was beside herself at the moment; her mind was racing, her body was shaking, and all she could do was drink and watch Draco eat. He didnÕt even look up at her in between bites; he just ate his food as if she wasnÕt in the same room.
His silence angered her. She thought he would be jumping for joy at her news, but he remained expressionless. She thought he would have gotten off on knowing why she never let Harry touch her, but Draco didnÕt even touch her. When she was crying in his study, after spilling her terrible secret, all he did was watch her and then announce it was time for dinner, as if what took place didnÕt happen.
Ginny gripped the glass hard and drank the wine. She was a nervous wreck, and DracoÕs ignorance of the issue wasnÕt helping. How could he ignore such a prime opportunity to tease her about Harry, or to hurt her? In fact, through it all, he could even twist it to look as if he won; that Harry lost everything in the end, even Ginny, to him. But he didnÕt say a word.
Ginny finished her wine and set her glass on the table only for it to refill itself. Then she brought the glass to her lips and nursed on the sweet liquid. After condemning Draco for his drinking, she was beginning to see why he did it in the first place. It was giving her something to do, other than stare at Draco, that is. And after all the times she had felt his eyes on her, she was now the one eyeing him. Ginny almost laughed into her wine glass-how the tables have turned.
She was starting her third glass when she saw Draco reach for his own. As he took a long sip, his eyes darted over to hers, but so briefly she almost didnÕt catch it. Anger boiled up in Ginny, and with the help of the wine, it was quickly replacing her nerves. Why wouldnÕt he even look at her? Now that the truth was out, did she disgust him? Did it bother him knowing of the lie she led? Here he was with the sick obsession over her, and she was the one feeling as if she was being judged.
But how dare he judge her; he only knew half the truth. He didnÕt give her time to explain why she pretended to love Harry as his girlfriend. She had her reasons; she had her justifications. And she had gone through them in her head, over and over again, every moment she was with Harry. Now that the secret was out, she felt the whole story should be shown as well, but the viewer only had an interest in what he wanted to see. And Ginny felt no matter what she said to Draco at this point, he would still judge her with those gray eyes of his. He would stare at her as if she was filth; he would snarl at her as if he couldnÕt believe he wanted her. He would no longer need her as he once had.
That thought made her finish her third glass. She was beginning to feel light in the head, and her cheeks felt warm. She stared at the glass in her hand, and found she had to concentrate on it to think clearly. She tried to remember when she ate last, and knew that drinking heavily on an empty stomach wasnÕt a good idea. But at the moment, she didnÕt care.
She was distracted by Draco moving his plate to the side. She watched him press his napkin lightly against his lips. Ginny huffed; even that he made look perfect. Everything about him was perfect-his looks, his hair, even his clothes. His moves were filled with grace, and he never spilled on the table. Ginny glanced down at his plate and saw that the remains of his food stayed in place, and were not mixed together. It all just made her sick.
She was on her fourth glass when the chocolate cheesecake was brought out. Her stomach lurched as she watched a house-elf poor a sweet raspberry wine over DracoÕs slice, and then did the same for Ginny. Ginny watched as her full plate was taken away and replaced with the dessert, and even though the food was beginning to look delicious, at the moment she wanted to avoid anything that would clear up the buzz she was feeling throughout her body. She would have pushed the plate away if it wasnÕt rude, though at that point, she wondered if doing something impolite would even grasp DracoÕs attention. Probably not.
She watched Draco eat the cheesecake in delicate bites, never getting crumbs on his lips. When she saw his shoulders tense up, she knew he was aware of her stare, though he had probably felt it long before. Ginny drank her wine, and suddenly feeling like a creep she wanted to look away, but found she couldnÕt. She was completely enticed by the man, and she hated him for it.
She waited for him to finish his dessert, because then she knew he would have to face her. Once he was out of food to busy himself with, he would have to acknowledge her. And then she would tell him her story. Then she would tell him why she did what she did to Harry; why she had lied to all of her friends and her family. She had to let him know; she had to make him know why she did it all, or she felt she would split. But most of all, she wanted his eyes on her again. She wanted him to look at her like he used to, because only then would she know that what she did to Harry wasnÕt wrong. If Draco could only look at her once more with those hungry eyes of his, she would know she was still wanted and not completely alone in the world.
Her heart jumped when she saw him push his plate away. She set down her wine glass and sat still, waiting for him to glance over at her. But he did none of that-instead, he pushed back his chair, and got up from the table as if someone wasnÕt still sitting right next to him.
That did it. Ginny sat up as well, and even wobbled at the sudden movement, but Draco didnÕt glance at her. As if a slightly drunk woman wasnÕt in his dining room, he started to head for the door. Ginny raced after him, her footsteps heavy. She had been silent up to this point, but not anymore.
ÒWhere do you think youÕre going?Ó Ginny snapped. She could hear the anger in her voice, and was only thankful she didnÕt drink enough to slur. She doubted she could get her point across to him if she could barely speak.
She waited for him to stop walking and to address her, but to her anger, he continued on walking and headed up the stairs. ÒTo my room, Weasley. Why donÕt you get some sleep, as well? ItÕs been a long day for the both of us.Ó
Ginny gaped at his back, and halted as she watched him climb the stairs. Did he just call her what she thought he did? What happened to him using her first name? By the time the surprise left her, Draco was already sight. Ginny huffed again and took off after him. If he thought he was going to slip past her, he had another thing coming.
Her head pounded as she raced up the stairs, but she ignored it. Even her legs seemed to protest at all the movement. It seemed as if her body wanted to do precisely what Draco said, and just pass out somewhere. She was beginning to regret drinking so much wine, but it couldnÕt be helped at that point. And at that point, all she wanted was to see Draco.
She approached his room, and ignoring the warning he had given her about not entering his room, she barged in. ÒIf you think you can just-Ó
Ginny paused in her words and stared at Draco in front of her. He was in the process of pulling his shirt over his head, leaving his stomach bare. GinnyÕs eyes stared at the bare skin, and gazed over the hardness of it. Her cheeks turning red, she looked up at Draco, to see that he was staring at her as well, even with his shirt halfway over his head.
After what seemed forever, he moved again and completely took off his shirt. He tossed it to the side and then kicked off his shoes. ÒWhat are you doing in here?Ó
Ginny squeezed her eyes shut, and then opened them again, hoping to burn the image of his hard body out of her mind. ÒWhy are you ignoring me?Ó she asked, making sure to look at his face instead of below.
Draco sat on a chair and bent over to take off his socks. ÒIÕm not ignoring you, Weasley.Ó He balled the socks up and tossed them to where the shirt was.
ÒThere!Ó Ginny cried. Anger rushed through her all over again. ÒRight there, you just called me Weasley. Why wonÕt you call me by my first name?Ó
Draco leaned back in the chair, but instead of looking her in the face, he examined his nails. ÒWhy do you care what I call you? I figured you didnÕt like me calling you Ginny.Ó
ÒYes, but it never stopped you before, did it?Ó Ginny said. ÒYouÕre acting different and I donÕt like it.Ó
Draco stood up from the chair and passed by her and to his closet. ÒIÕll act how I want to act,Ó he called over his shoulder as he busied himself in the walk-in closet. ÒI really donÕt see how any of this is your concern, Weasley. In fact, I think you would be joyous over this idea of me ignoring you.Ó
He came out in a pair of loose gray pants. GinnyÕs face burnt as her eyes examined his body once more, and her body tingled all over at the sight. ÒThatÕs not,Ó she said, pausing. Her voice was growing weaker and the anger was leaving her. ÒThatÕs not the case.Ó She shook her head, gathering herself. She was not going to lose her place just because Draco was shirtless. That thought suddenly made her annoyed. ÒAnd why are you always walking around with no shirt on?Ó she snapped.
Draco finally looked up at her, and she thought he looked amused, but only for a moment. ÒDonÕt like it, Weasley? Then get out. I donÕt even know why youÕre in here.Ó
He passed by her again to get to his bed, but before he could hide himself away from her under the covers, Ginny grabbed onto his arm and stopped him. ÒItÕs because of what I said about Harry, isnÕt it?Ó
Draco paused, but he stared ahead. ÒI could care less if you screwed Potter over.Ó
ÒThen why arenÕt you looking at me?Ó
Instead of a snide remark, Draco was silent. Ginny felt his muscles tense under her grip, and she thought he was going to pull away when he finally did look at her. His eyes locked with hers, and she felt a rush go through her body all over again. She felt weak at the knees, but not in a lovey-dovey kind of way. There was something so intense in his eyes, that it scared her.
But she held onto him. ÒYou donÕt want me anymore, do you?Ó She didnÕt mean to cut right to the chase, but the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She didnÕt even know why she was talking to him; why she cared in the first place. ÒYou only wanted me because you thought Harry had me-you only wanted me because you were jealous of him. But now that you know the truth that Harry never did have me, at all, you want nothing to do with me.Ó
She was aware of DracoÕs chest rising and falling, as if he was taking deep breaths to calm himself. Ginny would have smirked if he wasnÕt watching-she was getting to him. ÒI figured youÕd be happy in knowing that I never loved him. I thought youÕd get off in knowing that I was betraying the one man youÕve hated most.Ó
ÒIs that what you want?Ó Draco finally spoke.
Ginny stared back at him. She didnÕt know what she wanted, not anymore. Before things made sense-before she could keep up the charade of being in love with Harry and keeping Draco away, but now the truth was out and she was finding it harder to fight. What did she want? She stared into his eyes and then glanced down at his soft lips. She should have been relieved at him loosing interest in her, but it left her feeling empty. She wanted to be wanted again. Everyone she loved and cared about was dead; there was no one left in the world to show her affection, or to acknowledge her presence. No one, except for the man standing in front of her. And she had to get him back before she lost him too forever.
She held his eyes for a moment longer before she stepped in and kissed him.
She felt DracoÕs body grow rigid at his touch, but she kept her lips on his. They werenÕt moving though, and the kiss was cold. She was slightly aware of how awkward of a kiss it was, void of passion, but it made her press harder. She let go of DracoÕs arm and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in closer to her. She wanted to have him; she wanted him to have her. She wanted to be wanted.
But when Draco didnÕt move under her, when his arms stayed still at his sides and his lips unmoving, did Ginny open her eyes and see that he was staring down at her, at what she was doing. And suddenly it too occurred to her what she was doing, that she was practically throwing herself at a Malfoy, all because she didnÕt want to be alone. She jumped back from him and gasped. ÒIÕm sorry,Ó she said, mumbling into her hand that now covered her mouth. She didnÕt even know why she was apologizing-nothing made sense anymore. ÒI shouldnÕt have done that-I shouldnÕt have-Ó
Now embarrassment joined the confusion that she felt. And she felt herself breaking as Draco stared at her with no expression on his face. Did it even occur to him that she just threw himself at her? She couldnÕt wait to find out if it did. She tore her eyes away from him and left his room in a run, crossing the hallway into her room.
Her chest heaved as she slammed her door shut, but not from the short jog. She felt close to tears, but knew she was done crying for the day. She wanted to go sit on her bed, to gather her thoughts, but there her family could see her, and she couldnÕt even look them in the eye. She couldnÕt look anyone in the eye-she could barely face herself. She glanced at the bathroom door and hurried in. She turned the shower on to hot, wanting to burn her whole body and cleanse away the filth she felt in herself. Had she really just thrown herself at a Malfoy? WasnÕt she just disgusted earlier at finding how much Draco did indeed want her? ShouldnÕt she be happy that the want was gone, that he wasnÕt pining after her in his obsession?
Ginny tore off her clothes and jumped under the showerhead, barely conscious of the hot water stinging her skin. She wanted to drown herself; she didnÕt feel she could face herself after what she had just done. And especially Draco-how could she ever look him in the eye after throwing herself at him? Her heart stopped-what if, because he didnÕt want her anymore, he was going to send her back to prison? What use would she be to him now that he knew just how truly vile and horrible she really was?
Ginny wrapped her arms around her naked body and hugged herself. It was like having someone die all over again. She felt like someone else died, leaving her and taking away her happiness; leaving her alone once more. But this time, she was going to go back to the prison and die herself. No one else in the world had anymore use of her, and she was going to be left to die.
She stood in the shower, waiting for the hot water to run out, but it never did. It took her awhile to figure out it was probably charmed that way, and only made a move to turn off the water when she noticed in the fogginess from the temperature that her skin was bright red. It was red to match the scar on her left wrist, something she had refused to look at up until that point.
She leaned against the shower wall and stared at the scar. When she was given a second chance at life at Malfoy Manor, she had been careful to not look at her wrist and what it represented. And a part of her had even forgotten about the scar in the midst of her rebuilding her life. She had been so caught up in growing and living and trying to move on, that she had almost forgotten that she had tried to kill herself.
Ginny stopped herself-no, it wasnÕt a suicide attempt. Things werenÕt like that-she was never that kind of person. She had her reasons, just as she had them for being with Harry when she didnÕt really love him. And while they may not have been right, they were justified, and that was the only thing that seemed to make sense.
Ginny stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. She was thankful the mirror was foggy, because she didnÕt want to look at herself. Disgust, shame, and every other negative feeling were swarming in her body, and she didnÕt know how much more of it she could take.
~*~
It was like in the beginning of her stay at Malfoy Manor. She hid from Draco, only this time spending her time in the secret garden instead of the library. The library just reminded her of avoiding Draco in the first place, and she didnÕt want to think of him. When she first climbed through the tunnel and gazed at the flowers and the willow tree, she remembered when Draco had first shown her the place, and how that nice action stood out of place from his normal demeanor. But she was grateful, none the less, and once she spent a few minutes amongst the roses and the tulips, she found it easier to forget about the blond, and what she had done to him.
Flipsy had known to find her in the garden, and the house-elf began to bring GinnyÕs meals there. It eased Ginny to have a picnic in the grass, and to watch the fish swim in the pond. It reminded her of summers at the Burrow, and she was pleased when she discovered the ache wasnÕt as great when she thought back of her whole life. Her present life was going down the drain, but maybe she did get closure after seeing her family in the Pensieve. She had noticed that her dreams of them were diminishing, but only now they were being replaced by Draco. Some dreams of him were the same as the one where he visited her bed in the middle of the night; others were more confusing, and dealt with having a conversation with him she didnÕt understand. She had one where she mixed up him and Harry-she dreamt that she was in an empty classroom at Hogwarts, but instead of making out with Harry, she was lip-tight with Draco. The wrongness of the situation surged Ginny in a way she didnÕt know possible; there was something about Draco taking off her Gryffindor robe and her loosening his Slytherin tie that reminded her that the two didnÕt go together, that it went against everything that was right, but thatÕs what made it even more exciting.
She woke up trembling from that dream. She could still feel DracoÕs hands on her, gripping her hips as he slammed himself into her over and over again. It had been the first dream where the two had sex. It seemed so vivid; she remembered throwing her head back as she clutched onto the edge of the desk she sat on. It didnÕt occur to her if it was a student desk or a teacherÕs. It could have been SnapeÕs for all she knew, but the sensations she felt would have been well worth being butt naked on the greasy-haired manÕs workplace.
When she awoke, she felt just how affected her body was from the dream, and without a momentÕs thought, she climbed out of bed and headed to the bathroom, stripping along the way. Naked, she climbed into the empty bathtub, and, positioning herself under one of the bigger faucets, she turned the warm water on full blast. Her hands tightened along the frame of the tub, holding herself up, as the pressure hit her in the right spot. As she came, she thought of Draco as he was in her dream, with his Slytherin tie undone and his hair messy. She thought of how he was right across the hall, and wondered if he still had his tie around. She was thankful of how tired she was after her orgasm passed, because after kissing him and having that fail, she didnÕt want to go to his bedroom in the middle of the night.
Now, the next day, she was in the garden, where she tried to forget the dream and the tub scene. It was easier to forget things in that room; she could sit there for hours and even forget she was in Malfoy Manor. In time she stopped wondering what Draco was doing, and if he was going to send her back to the prison. At the moment she didnÕt really care; if anything, him sending her back may give her a piece of mind. Maybe the further away she was from him, the less sheÕd want him sexually to fill her own needs. And what were those needs-were they of sexual needs of a woman? Or did she feel through sex, she would acquire attention? That if he kissed her, grabbed her, stroked her, it would show that he needed her, even if it was only through sex. It was kind of how Harry needed her-she knew he loved her, but she also knew how badly he wanted sex. She never blamed him for his urges; he was a teenage boy and she was his first real girlfriend. ItÕs not to say that she got off on knowing what control she had over him, but where Harry was so powerful himself, it was something amazing knowing she held the real power in the relationship.
When Ginny had grown bored of sitting under the willow, and at looking at the rose-carved fountain, she began to explore deeper into the garden. The room was huge, and she felt as if it was charmed to go on forever. No matter how long she walked through the bushes and the flowers, she never hit any walls, or any sign that she was in a room at all. There were normal plants and exotic; there were several she recognized from Herbology, but none that were life-threatening.
As she walked, she plucked a daisy, and placed it behind her ear, smiling. Daisies were a simple flower, but they had always been her favorite. They were hard to grow at the Burrow because of the garden gnomes, but she remembered going on walks through HogwartÕs grounds, and always coming back with a daisy in her hair. Ginny sat down next to the patch of the flower and breathed them in. She was at peace here, and nothing could disturb her.
She stared at the white flower with its yellow center, her eyes counting its petals. She skimmed the flower down to its roots, suddenly having the urge to dig her hands in the fresh soil and plant something herself. She wondered if there was room in the garden to allow her to do so, even though what she could plant that the room didnÕt provide, she didnÕt know. She went to look back at the top of the daisies when her eyes froze at the base. There was a section in the soil that rose above ground. Curious, she reached out her hand and pushed down on it, but instead of going down as it should have in the soft soil, she pushed against something solid.
Excitement rose in her. There was something buried there amongst the daisies. Leaning forward on her knees, she dug her hands through the risen soil, and only got an inch into the dirt before her hands grasped the solid object she felt. Leaning back, she pulled out a small, wooden box. GinnyÕs eyes widened as she stared at it, covered in soil. She gingerly brushed it clean before she set it in her lap and stared at it.
It was a dark wood box, plain with no carvings. There was no padlock on it, and when Ginny opened it a centimeter, she discovered there were no spells either. She was free to look what was inside, and see why it was hidden.
Hesitating for only a moment, she opened the box and found folded up parchment. Thoughts left her as she gently picked one up and examined the outside. It looked like regular parchment to her-the kind she would use for a school assignment or to write a quick note to her parents. Very gently, she opened it up along until it was flat and lined with creases. Written on the paper, in cursive was, ÒMeet me at Green House three at midnight.Ó
GinnyÕs eyebrows rose. She scanned the paper, but there was no date, or names. There were no initials, or any other proof to who had written it or who it was being addressed to. She even pulled out her wand and tried several spells to reveal whose handwriting it was, but nothing was revealed. She put the note aside and pulled out several others, hoping for some kind of clue.
But they were all the same-they were all short notes, saying where to meet and when. The only thing that was different between each note was the location; the two people meeting never seemed to go to the same place twice. GinnyÕs heart beat quickly as she read note after note. Here, in her hands, was a love affair held in Hogwarts; there was no doubt about it. Ginny stared at the handwriting, trying to decipher if it was masculine or feminine. It was sloppy, but not in the way her brothers wrote; more as if the writer was in a rush. As if the writer was afraid someone would catch what they were writing.
With parchment piled around her and the box now empty, Ginny stared at it all. She uncovered something big-something that wasnÕt supposed to be revealed. Ginny brushed off some soil along the edges of the box. But why was the box buried in a garden? Who in Malfoy Manor would trust a garden to hold their secrets?
GinnyÕs heartbeat quickened. When Draco had shown her the secret garden, he had told her of how his mother built it, and kept it secret from his father. Narcissa had built the room, hiding it from the man she married; she had built it to hide her secrets from someone she didnÕt really love.
GinnyÕs body jumped to go run to NarcissaÕs portrait, to ask her who she had a secret relationship with, but she stopped herself. How was she to go to the portrait in the middle of the day and with Draco around? She thought hard as she folded each note up and placed it in the box. After making sure she buried the box where she found it, she covered it with soil and smoothed her hand over the surface. She stood up and wiped her hands clean, and reminding herself that the box was under the daisies, she walked away and back to the willow tree where she could find the door to leave.
She had been meaning to go back to NarcissaÕs portrait, despite what Draco said, and this just gave her more reason to.
~*~
When Ginny left the secret garden, it was already dark out. The lights in the hallway were dim and Ginny wondered if Draco had already gone to bed. The problem about spending all of her time in the secret garden was there it was always bright, and she could only tell time by the meals that Flipsy brought for her. And after spending three days there, her eyes had trouble focusing in the dark. She took out her wand and whispered ÒLumos,Ó lightening up the darkened hallway.
She made sure to be quiet as she walked, not wanting to draw attention to herself. Thankful that she wore flat shoes instead of anything with a heel, she took tiny steps and peeked around every corner that she came to. She didnÕt know if she was precautious for the sake of not wanting to get caught going to NarcissaÕs portrait, or just not wanting to deal with Draco after what she had done to him the night in his bedroom. She assumed it was both, but the latter she didnÕt want to think about.
The problem was finding the portrait once more. It seemed forever ago that she came across DracoÕs dead mother, and she wasnÕt sure which hallways she turned down. She knew most of Malfoy Manor fairly well by now, but she found if she wasnÕt paying close attention, she was bound to get lost. Twice she turned down the wrong corner, having to double back. Once she hit a dead end, but not the one with the portrait. Ginny swore under her breath. It was luck that she had made it this far without bumping into Draco, and the more time she wasted the likelihood that luck was going to run out.
She thought she was going the right way when she noticed a portrait she had already passed. This time she did swear loudly, waking the person in the frame up.
ÒDo you mind?Ó a man that was labeled Addion Malfoy said. ÒI was trying to sleep.Ó
Ginny sneered at the man. He was young, seeming to be in his thirties, and had the Malfoy blonde hair; only his was long and gathered in a ponytail. But his bone structure and the way he glared at her reminded her all too well of Draco, and she was mad at him for it.
ÒNo, I donÕt mind,Ó she snapped. ÒI donÕt mind if another Malfoy yells at me, or criticizes me, or flat out ignores me.Ó She huffed, ignoring that Addion Malfoy now had his eyebrows raise in surprise at her outburst. ÒNow if you can just tell me where to find Narcissa MalfoyÕs portrait, IÕll leave you to your beauty sleep.Ó
The manÕs eyebrows slowly sunk into place, and his face seemed to relax. She felt his gray eyes examine her from her own eyes to her hair that was settled in waves around her face. ÒWhat red hair,Ó he said. ÒYou remind me of someone. You wouldnÕt happen to have Weasley blood in you, would you?Ó
Ginny froze. To hear of a Malfoy speak her family name so calmly just seemed wrong. ÒI-I am a Weasley,Ó she said.
She expected him to sneer at her, or insult her, but instead, his face softened and the corner of his lips turned into a faint smile. ÒYes, I thought you did,Ó he said. ÒNot by the red hair, but the way your eyes sparkled when you were angry. She did just the same thing-she was so fiery, I could barely handle her.Ó
ÒWho?Ó Ginny asked, now intrigued. The thought of Narcissa escaped her.
ÒMaitane,Ó he said. ÒMaitane Weasley. She was the daughter of a poor man, one who was once rich. But then my father wanted to make himself richer, so he stole all of WeasleyÕs cattle and gold when the old man slept.Ó Addion frowned. ÒWeasley never had proof that my father did it, so my father got away, but when WeasleyÕs wife, MaitaneÕs mother, died because they didnÕt have money for a doctor, a family feud erupted.Ó
ÒIs that,Ó Ginny said, Òis that what started the hate between the Malfoys and the Weasleys?Ó
Addion nodded. ÒAnd since then, it was forbidden for a Malfoy and a Weasley to be together. Or the punishment was death.Ó
Ginny stared at the man, noticing that he was far too young to have died of natural causes. ÒIs that how you died?Ó she asked. ÒYou and Maitane-Ó
Addion gave her a smile, but she saw no joy in it. ÒI hope you and young Draco donÕt follow down the same path as we did,Ó he said. ÒI will pray that history does not repeat itself.Ó
Ginny froze at DracoÕs name. ÒNo, no; weÕre not like that,Ó she said quickly. ÒHe hates me.Ó She wanted to say how she hated him as well, but she didnÕt know if those words would be a lie.
Addion frowned at her. ÒThere have been whispering between portraits since you arrived,Ó he said. ÒThere has been talk of the enemy living here, a Weasley, but what surprised everyone most of all was DracoÕs obvious affection towards you.Ó
Ginny shook her head-she didnÕt want to hear it. ÒBut he hates me now,Ó she said. ÒHe-he wonÕt even touch me-Ó Ginny broke off in embarrassment.
But Addion only smiled at her. ÒWhen it was clear that being with Maitane would mean our deaths, I too would not touch her. I wanted so badly for her to think I hated her, because that would mean she would be safe.Ó
ÒBut he has nothing to keep me safe from,Ó Ginny said.
ÒNothing but himself,Ó Addion said.
GinnyÕs eyes widened at his words and her heartbeat quickened. She stepped back from the portrait and glanced all around her. All the Malfoy portraits that were in sight were staring at her with their eyes narrowed and filled with obvious hate.
ÒI should go,Ó she said quickly. ÒIÕm sorry-I shouldnÕt even be here.Ó
Addion frowned, but nodded. ÒAt the next hall take a left, and then a right,Ó he said, Òand then you will find NarcissaÕs portrait.Ó
She barely heard his words, but started to step away. ÒThank you,Ó she said. She paused. ÒAnd IÕm sorry about what happened to you and Maitane.Ó
ÒIf you are truly sorry,Ó the portrait said, Òthen please be cautious with Draco. Such love is forbidden, even now.Ó
But Ginny just stared at him and walked off and down the hallway. Such love-such a love did not exist, and that was one thing she knew she didnÕt have to worry about repeating.
As she walked, the portraits whispered. Her eyes stuck ahead-she refused to look at the centuriesÕ worth of Malfoys that she knew were glaring at her. She felt as if she were walking down death row, with everyone staring at her and judging her. She felt she was walking towards a certain doom, and that all of those eyes wanted her to suffer.
She took a left as Addion said to, and then took a right, finally recognizing where she was. She walked up the five steps, and then stared down at the dead end only to find NarcissaÕs portrait empty once more.
Ginny swore under her breath, but approached the portrait still. ÒMrs. Malfoy,Ó she whispered to it. ÒMrs. Malfoy, please, I need to talk to you. Come back, before-Ó
ÒBefore what, Weasley?Ó
Ginny yelped and jumped around. Draco stood behind her.
Ginny backed up into the portrait. She was caught in the act. ÒHow did you-Ó
ÒThe portraits told me a Weasley was wandering the halls,Ó Draco said. The glow from his wand lit up his face, shadowing his high cheek bones and underneath his eyes, which were narrowed at her. ÒThey said you asked someone where to find my mother.Ó
His voice was so calm, it was eerie. Ginny glanced at his wand and then at his face. Neither seemed a threat, but her heart beat quickly. Something wasnÕt right-something was off. She was waiting for Draco to scream and yell, but his being so collected terrified her more.
ÒI thought I told you to stay away from her,Ó he said.
Ginny gripped her own wand, but knew she couldnÕt use it on him unless she wanted it taken away. ÒBut I needed to talk to her,Ó she said. ÒI found something of hers in the garden room. Something buried by the daisies.Ó
She saw Draco grit his teeth. ÒDonÕt make up stories to excuse you disobeying me,Ó he said.
ÒBut itÕs true!Ó Ginny said. ÒYour mother can confirm it-I can show you myself. ThereÕs a box full of letters. Your mum-Ó
Had an affair? A secret that maybe Draco shouldnÕt know about? Ginny stopped herself. Should she tell Draco that her mother had another love despite his father; that she possibly cheated on him?
ÒDraco? Is that you?Ó
Ginny spun around and stared at Narcissa in the frame, but the blonde wasnÕt looking at her. ÒMy son,Ó Narcissa said, staring at Draco. ÒAfter all this time, youÕve finally come to me.Ó
GinnyÕs head whipped to Draco, whose face had gone white. His eyes bulged slightly, and sparks flew from the tip of his wand. He didnÕt say a word.
Ginny looked back at Narcissa, who finally looked at her. ÒI must say, IÕm surprised that you held your word,Ó Narcissa said to her. ÒI really didnÕt think youÕd find a way to get Draco to visit me.Ó
Cold dread washed over her. ÒNo,Ó Ginny said, shaking her head. ÒI didnÕt mean to. That is-Ó She looked over at Draco. ÒDraco, that wasnÕt why I came here. I wasnÕt tricking you-Ó
Her words were cut off when Draco grabbed her wrist and squeezed tightly. ÒWeÕre leaving now,Ó he said.
ÒBut, Draco,Ó Narcissa said, but Draco turned from her and marched down the hall, dragging Ginny with him. He held her like a rag doll when he pulled her down the stairs, making her trip on her own feet. She almost fell down the five steps, but she clutched on to Draco and he held her up.
Ginny looked back towards the portrait. ÒDraco,Ó she said. ÒDraco, wait.Ó
Draco continued to march down the hallway, his grip tight. Ginny tried to pull his hand apart with her free hand. ÒYouÕre hurting me,Ó Ginny said. ÒIf youÕd only let go-Ó
But Draco made no acknowledgement of her or what she had to say. He continued to storm the hallways, dragging her behind. Ginny wished she could see his face to know how angry he was at her. Would he hurt her? Would he lock her up in her room forever? What would be her punishment for disobeying him?
After they climbed the main staircase and headed towards the bedrooms, Ginny thought that he would throw her into her room and lock her up, but they passed her room without such a thing. Instead, Draco headed straight down the hall, and before he got to the end, she knew he was bringing her to his study.
He flicked his wand and the door of the study swung open. He pushed Ginny inside and the shut the door and locked it.
Ginny braced herself as she realized she was trapped. ÒWhat are you going to do to me?Ó she asked.
Draco didnÕt glance at her or speak; he grabbed her arm again and led her over to the Pensieve where he took his wand and drew a silver thread from his temple.
Ginny watched him put it in the bowl and before she could take a look at the swirling memory, Draco touched the liquid and they were pulled in.
As Ginny fell, she felt Draco let go of her. When they finally touched ground, Ginny fell several feet in front of Draco, who unlike her, landed on his feet. Ginny swore and rubbed her bottom and looked around her-they were surrounded by dark. No-Ginny looked closer. They were surrounded by people in black robes, standing so close together that they consumed any light. Their hoods were up and their faces were covered, giving her no information of what was happening.
Ginny looked to Draco for an explanation, but saw him staring in front of her. She too looked ahead, finding only people in black robes, but then the ring of people separated and another figure in a dark robe entered the circle, placing themselves right next to where Ginny sat. She watched the person lower their hood, and then Ginny let out a piercing scream.
There, next to her, stood Lord Voldemort.
~*~
Dun dun dun. IÕm getting better with these cliffhangers.
In regard to the mention of the scar on GinnyÕs wrist, I first brought up the subject in the first chapter:
Her twenty year old body moved again as her breathing accelerated. ÒRon!Ó her voice now yelled. ÒRon!Ó
Her body shifted towards Draco, giving him view of the pink scar on her left wrist. Her breathing settled down after a moment, but she continued to whisper her dead familyÕs names.
I just wanted to draw that to your attention, so you didnÕt think it came out of left field. Throughout the story, IÕm merely mention things that will play a huge part later, so pay attention to what you read!
I hope you enjoyed it, and please review!