The Secrets of War by Liz21 Rating: R Genres: Drama, Romance Relationships: Draco & Ginny Book: Draco & Ginny, Books 1 - 6 Published: 02/01/2007 Last Updated: 21/12/2010 Status: Completed The war is over and Voldemort won. Ginny Weasley, the last Order of the Phoenix survivor, is given to Draco Malfoy as a prize for his help in the death of Harry Potter. When she thought she would only find misery, Ginny discovers a secret in Malfoy Manor that will change her life and Draco's part in the war. 1. Chapter One -------------- Chapter One Screams of pain echoed in the dark hallways. Women cried of dead children and lost lovers, whispering their want to live or die between tearful gasps of air. Men, what little men were left, screamed of bone breaking pain that was forced into their bodies night after night, their weak bodies being tortured and damaged, their spirits breaking. They were noises Draco grew accustomed to at the prisoner camp he was stationed at. His footsteps echoed against the tortured yells. Somewhere he heard a bone break in two, the sound echoing off the stone walls of the dingy fortress. Little light filled the cold halls, the only sources from moonlight peering through barred windows and torches placed on the walls. The smell of blood and filth filled the air, something Draco could never quite get used to when he returned home, his robes reeking of the stench, his pores filled with it. Water dripped from the ceilings; Draco shoes splashed in a small puddle. He passed a crying woman, pleading to be let out. “Please, sir,” she cried at him. “I have three kids. Please, they need me.” Draco walked by without a glance. He walked by a few more cells, randomly hitting doors to startle the captives, before he turned down a hallway and towards a big, black door at the end. He collected himself before he knocked and walked in. The room was dark except for several lit candles on the floor and the moonlight pouring through two windows. The light shadowed a man in dark robes, outlining his face, though Draco took to looking at the man’s shoulder instead. He knew those red eyes too well, and that slit, snake like nose. His stomach turned like it always did when he was in his presence, how looking the man in the face made him want to die a little, something Draco was suspicious of actually happening. Lord Voldemort stood waiting for him with a satisfied grin on his face. Draco walked up to him and kneeled in front, kissing the hem of his robes, and then a moment of silence passed. “You have done well, Draco,” Voldemort spoke, his tongue hissing like a snake. “You helped capture most of the Order of the Phoenix, and were responsible of finding Harry Potter before I so graciously murdered him. If only your father was alive to witness it all--I know he’d be proud.” Draco did not move. “Thank you, my Lord.” “Tell me, young Malfoy, what can I do to repay you?” Draco’s heart pounded, though he stayed still. He knew that in a blink of an eye, he could have anything he wanted, anything at all he desired. There were no limits that Voldemort reached in rewarding his servants. Draco stared at the hem of Voldemort’s robes. “There is one thing, Lord.” “Stand, Draco, and look at me.” Draco stared at the and taking a breath he stood to his full height. He was several inches taller than Voldemort, but felt tiny next to him. He heisted before he looked into Voldemort’s eyes. Voldemort stared at him before giving a small smile. “I see-you want the prisoner. But why, may I ask, as you’re so carefully hiding that information from me.” Draco felt his stomach turn, but his expression did not change. “Surely you’ve heard of our families hate for one another, Lord. She loathes me more than anything-she’d make a lovely play toy.” Lord Voldemort grinned in a sinister manner. “Yes, she would put up a good fight, but I hope you realize what you’ll be dealing with. She already injured three Death Eaters, and that was without a wand, of course.” Draco nodded. “I’m well aware of this-Pansy was one of them-but I believe I can handle her. She won’t have a wand, and she’ll have an house-elf to keep an eye on her.” Voldemort eyed Draco. “Thought this through, haven’t you? I wonder if she’s still alive because of your care, Draco.” “I won’t deny that my interest wasn’t peaked at knowing we had the last remaining Weasley under our control. I hate her and her dead family just as much as I did Potter. Keeping her alive to mourn her loss would serve her more misery than death.” Voldemort grinned, something that looked painful to do. “Spoken like a true Death Eater. If that is what you really want, then go and take her. Ginny Weasley is yours to keep.” Draco nodded. “I thank you, my Lord.” He walked out of the moon lit room, and back down the hallway with the cells. When he got to the last one protected by Crabbe and Goyle, he told them to scatter before he stopped at the barred door. He placed his hands on the cool metal, listening to the two men’s footsteps echoing away from him. Making sure the hallway was clear, he gazed down at the sleeping redhead on the straw floor. She was thinner and paler since her days at Hogwarts. Moonlight bathed her in the one windowed room, lightening up her face like an angel. Her red, pouty lips were chapped from dehydration, and her no longer rich hair was filthy and knotted. There was dirt smudged on her freckled cheeks, standing out sharply against the black circles under her closed eyes. She curled up in a ball on the dirty, straw floor, her body shivering under a thin, ragged cloak. Unlike the other cells, she was alone, her roommate dead already, but she lay there as if waiting for death herself. Ginny’s body twitched in her sleep. “Mum,” she murmured. “Daddy-where are you?” Her twenty year old body moved again as her breathing accelerated. “Ron!” her voice now yelled. “Ron!” 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 family’s names. Draco watched her whisper the name he hated even since their death. Everyone knew the Weasley family died a month ago, right before the end of the war, their loss affecting the outcome greatly. But what no one knew was where the youngest Weasley was moments before her family’s death. Lord Voldemort told Draco in secret that when he went to the Weasley’s home the night of their death the plan was to kill them all, but after finding that Ginny was missing, he waited for her to come home where he than captured her. He never said why he didn’t just kill her than and there. Draco watched her a moment longer before he whisked off down the hall and up the stairs towards an office. He barged into the room, slamming the door, and making the three inhabitants jump. Draco’s eyes settled on a brunette girl sitting between Crabbe and Goyle. “Pansy!” Draco barked. “Clean up Weasley. I’d suggest stunning her this time unless you want another black eye.” Pansy pushed back her tea on the table and glared at him. “There’s no way I’m touching that filth! You can’t-” “You know perfectly well you have to follow my orders,” Draco snapped. “You two,” he said to Crabbe and Goyle. “I want you to escort her to Malfoy Manor when she’s done--I’ll be there waiting. And you know what will happen if you touch her.” The two nodded dumbly, but Pansy continued to glare at him, her eyes so scrunched he could barely see the blue of them. “What’s with your obsession with that brat? Keeping these idiots guarding her cell so no one can touch her; giving her more food than the others. Does the Dark Lord know of all her special treatment?” “The Dark Lord allows me to do whatever I want,” Draco said. “And what I want is my own business. I except you to follow orders, Pansy, or you’ll have to answer to me.” She stared him down, a look that would make any other male queasy but Draco, before letting out an agitated growl and stormed out of the room. He heard her stomp down the stairs, stirring up a ruckus, and yelled, “Wake up, Weasley!” while banging on the bar door. Draco let out an agitated sigh before he left the room to the Apparation point. ~*~ Ginny walked up a long, stone driveway with Crabbe and Goyle both on her side, neither answering her questions. They were silent since they Side-Apparated her to a large black gate with an M on it where they then whispered their names before the gate opened and let them in. They only touched her when they directed her inside the premises. “I said,” she repeated, “where are you taking me?” Silence answered her. Ginny ringed her hands in anger, but knew better than to attack someone twice her size. It was too dark out to see her surroundings besides the trees on either side of the stone path. Even the stars and moon were covered by clouds. Off in the distance she heard a trickle of water and a rustle in the trees above their heads. They continued walking in silence. “And why are you two always standing outside my cell?” she continued to ask, eyeing them accusingly. “I’ve never seen you two do anything without being told to.” She paused, remembering her years at Hogwarts with them, watching the two follow their leader, being commanded like dogs and servants. “If Malfoy wasn’t dead, I’d suspect him to be behind all of this.” She saw the two men exchange glances over her head. “Er, Malfoy?” Crabbe asked. Ginny looked at him, surprised he finally spoke. “Yes, Malfoy-that horrible boy you two flanked around everywhere. Don’t tell me you already forgot about him.” Goyle shifted on the other side of her. “How’d you know he was…er…” “Dead?” Ginny asked. “I saw him with my own eyes. It was a few months before-” Ginny’s voice trembled. “Well, he died this past winter, didn’t he?” She heard Crabbe snicker and turned to him in shock. “What are you laughing at?” Crabbe grinned at her. “And people think we’re stupid,” he said as the kept on walking. “Yeah,” Goyle said with a chuckle. “At least we don’t believe everything we see.” Ginny opened her mouth to question him when she looked ahead and saw their destination. A large manor loomed out from a distance in front of her. It was beyond huge to Ginny-its large white walls were towering over the evergreen trees in front of it. Long pillars stood on either side of a thirteen foot long double door, and a fountain with lights splashed in the middle of a circle drive. Several lights were on in the manor, lightening it up against the dark sky. Small lanterns were placed in the gardens aligning the front lawn, showering off rose bushes and lilacs. But what peaked her curiosity was the same big M that was on the gate that lay on the middle of the huge door. Who was M? They reached the front door in no time where Crabbe grabbed a huge knocker in the middle of the M and knocked three times. Ginny stood there in silence. Questions were bottled up in her mind, topped off with an unnerving anxiety, but she did not hold one ounce of fear. With a creak the huge door opened large enough for a house-elf to stick its head out. “Please, come in,” the house-elf squeaked before opening the door and bowing at them. Crabbe and Goyle grabbed each arm and dragged Ginny in, something she thought was a bit unnecessary. “Not too rough,” Goyle muttered. “You know he’ll kill us if we leave a bruise.” Crabbe nodded. Ginny’s head whipped around to either men. “Who will kill you?” she asked. “Who are you talking about? Tell me, damn you!” “Temper, temper, Weasley. That will have to go if you expect to live here in peace.” Ginny let out a gasp and looked straight ahead at Draco Malfoy. “Malfoy?” Ginny sputtered, thankful the two men were holding her for she was about to faint in shock. “Malfoy? But…but you’re supposed to be dead!” Draco let out a loud, fake laugh, the other two men copying him. “Now why would you think that?” “I saw you die!” she yelled. “Harry killed you-I was right there! I saw you go down and everything!” Draco shook his head. “Do you honestly except the Dark Lord to send his favorite Death Eater out onto battle so early in the war?” “What do you-” “That was Zabini-we had him take Polyjuice to fool the Aurors. They were tracking me weeks before I slipped by them.” Ginny stared at him, still in shock and couldn’t take it in. It was like seeing someone rise from the dead, someone she wasn’t sorry to see gone in the first place. “But why all this?” she asked. “What does you being alive have to do with me?” Draco let out an ear to ear grin. “You, Weasley, are my prize for finding your dead boyfriend.” Ginny’s face dropped at the mention of Harry’s name. “I don’t understand-” “I won you, Weasley. The Dark Lord granted me with whatever I wanted, and all I could think about was owning you because I frankly don’t think you’ve suffered enough.” Ginny was barely aware of Crabbe and Goyle letting go of her arms before she sank to the tiled floor on her knees. “You two-leave,” Draco snapped at the two men. They left the room with the close of the heavy door. Ginny continued to kneel, staring at Draco, her eyes hardly blinking. “This is all a joke,” she muttered. “You don’t want me--you hate me.” “Precisely,” Draco said. “I want to be a constant reminder to you of what misery really is. And plus, with the war over and everything, this will keep me entertained.” Ginny shook her head. “You’re sick,” she whispered. “You’re positively mad.” Draco waved her off. “I’m as sane as you are, though I do wonder how that month in prison treated you. Tell me, Weasley, did you enjoy falling asleep to screams of people being tortured?” Ginny glared at him, and very shakily, she got to her feet. “You’re horrible.” Draco smirked. “Thank you. Now, if you please, I’ll leave my house-elf Flipsy to look after you. Have a good night.” And with that he walked out of the main foyer. Ginny stared after him, long after he was gone, and barely felt a tug on her dress. “Miss Weasley,” squeaked Flipsy. “Miss Weasley, Flipsy has come to show you to your room.” Ginny followed the house-elf up a massive staircase that parted into two separate cases, each opening up a wing. She was in a complete daze-what was going on? Were her legs even moving? She went down the left wing and heard Flipsy speak as if she were far away, and not right in front of her. “This is the main living corridor, Miss Weasley. Master Malfoy also lives down here.” She barely noticed the rich, green colored walls and the many high, windows, and the high ceiling. There were deep, mahogany doors everywhere, leading off to dozens off rooms. Pictures of moving characters lined the walls, though she didn’t bother to see who they contained. She kept on walking until she bumped into Flipsy. “This is your room, Miss Weasley,” the house-elf said before opening up a door. Ginny was sent into another row of shock-her room was enormous. A big, scarlet bed stood in the middle of her room; it was so huge that there were steps around her bed to get in. Gold curtains hung open on all four sides of the bed, showing numerous matching gold pillows set out perfectly on the comforter. On one of the walls sat a big fireplace with a scarlet couch in front of it, and on another wall was a desk and a bookcase. Through further examination, she found that one doorway led to a walk in closet, that was already filled with feminine clothes, and another led into a private bathroom. Ginny found it was almost a replica to the Prefects bathroom Fred and George showed her. There was a huge tub with dozens of tabs, everything in a white marble. There was even a chandelier. “This is the second main room of the manor,” Flipsy squeaked. “The first is Master Malfoy’s room, which is right across from yours. There are a dozen other rooms, each different and unique, a ball room, a library, drawing room, tea room, the kitchens, and much more. Master Malfoy said you’re free to use the other rooms of the house, except the last room in the right corridor.” “Why?” Ginny asked, glancing around the room. “What’s there?” “It’s his study, Miss.” Ginny merely nodded, seeing no importance to a study. “If that is all, Miss, can I pull out a nightgown and then put you to bed?” Sleep--that’s what Ginny needed most now. She nodded and watched Flipsy run over to the closet and come back with a long, light green nightgown. She refused to let Flipsy change her, though she was suddenly drained, and persuaded the house-elf to leave and that she could tuck herself in. Ginny climbed up the two stairs to her bed and crawled in, not even bothering to move all the pillows to the side. She just lay there, taking in that she was in her most hated enemy’s house, and fell asleep. ~*~ Ginny awoke with the sound of birds chirping outside her window. She blinked her eyes at the sudden ray of light, wondering how much of it could get through her tiny window. She clenched her eyes together and clutched her ears, waiting to wake up to the daily screams, but it never came. She dimly opened her eyes to red and gold, instead of the bricks of her cell she had grown used to. Then it hit her as hard as a slap on the cheek--she was in Draco Malfoy’s house. She sprawled out of her bed and nearly fell down the two stairs to the floor. She flung open her door and ran down the hallway--past the portraits and the paintings-- and towards the grand staircase. She had to get out, she thought suddenly. She didn’t care that she was wandless, barefoot, and in a bed gown--she had to get out of this Manor, and now. It became a need of survival, as if a tiny voice in her head screamed at her to get as far away from Malfoy, that nothing good could come of being in his house. She ran down the steps, her heart skipping a beat at the view of the front door. She ran past the dining room, not noticing that someone was sitting there, and reached out her hand to the door handle. She briefly grasped it before howling in pain and being knocked into the air. She landed several feet away from the door with a gasp of surprise. She fell on her back, and lay for a moment, staring up at the carved ceiling until she no was no longer dazed. She cupped her red, raw hand, tears leaking down her cheeks. “You can’t get out, Weasley.” Ginny picked up her head at the voice, but didn’t see anyone around her. “Who’s there?” she yelled, picking herself up. “In the dining room-come and have breakfast, why don’t you?” Ginny’s stomach growled, but ignored it. Food wasn’t what she wanted at the moment. She hesitantly walked over to an adjoining room, her bare feet paddling on the cold, tile surface, and poked her head inside to find Draco sitting at the end of a large dining table. Draco gave her a smirk. “Didn’t take you long to figure that one out, did it?” Ginny glared at him. “What was that?” she yelled, still cupping her hand. “That,” Draco said as he cut his eggs, “is a nifty little charm to make sure you stay inside the house. We don’t want you escaping, now do we?” “Don’t talk to me like that! I demand you let me out this instant!” Draco laughed as he set down his utensils. “Don’t you get it, Weasley? You’re not going anywhere. As of last night, you’re under my control.” Ginny’s temper flared. “I’m a person, Malfoy, not some broomstick you can just own.” “You know, you should be more thankful that you’re out of that hell hole and living in luxury.” “You’re wrong!” Ginny yelled. “I was better off waiting for death to come for me; waking up to blood curling screams everyday…eating scraps of food...” Her stomach growled at the mention of food and she couldn’t help but glance at the sorted amounts of breakfast food laid out on the table. Draco smirked. “Or, you can shut that trap hole for once, and have your first real meal in over a month.” She shook her head, but now her stomach was talking so loud she knew Draco could hear it. “Refusing food isn’t going to make me release you,” he said as he buttered a piece of toast. “If anything it will make things easier if you’re too weak from not eating.” Ginny walked a bit closer to the table and saw her favorite breakfast foods: Apple French toast and bacon, cheese omelets with wheat toast. There was even a tray of buttermilk pancakes with heaps of syrup. And to think, she had been living off of stale bread and broth. Before she knew it, she sat across the table from Draco and grabbed everything in sight. She shoveled eggs into her mouth, well aware that she looked like a pig, but she didn’t care. Draco scrunched his nose. “At least breathe between bites.” She didn’t want to, but she took his advice, knowing she’d have to give her stomach time to adjust to a huge amount of food. The last thing she wanted was to throw up all over the table. The remainder of breakfast was silent; Ginny was too busy eating to insult Draco, who had been surprisingly quiet. He finished well before her, but he sat there and stared at her--it unnerved her. Once she was satisfied, she pushed her empty plate away, feeling as if she gained five pounds, and looked up at Draco. “Now that you’re finished,” Draco said, “I’ll give you the rules of you living here.” Ginny opened her mouth in argument but Draco continued. “First, you’re not allowed outside. And even if you manage to leave the house, there are wards and security measures all around the manor. You wouldn’t get as far as the fountain before you’re caught so don’t even bother trying. “Second, the house is yours to explore, except my room and study. I’d suggest you not sneak into those rooms either, or you’ll receive another very nasty shock.” Ginny glanced down at her hand that was till red and aching. “How long will this take to heal?” Draco looked at her hand as well before he stood up and pushed back his chair. Ginny’s stomach rose into her throat as he walked towards her, regretting she interrupted him. “Never mind,” she said as he neared, pulling out his wand. “It’s really nothing-sorry, go back to the rules.” She grimaced when he pointed his wand at her, and closed her eyes tightly, waiting for more pain to come. But instead of pain, a sudden relief filled her hand. She opened one eye at looked at it. It was white again, and showed no signs of injury. She glanced up at Draco in surprise. “Let that be a warning,” he said as he pocketed his wand. “Next time I’ll let you suffer.” She glanced where he placed his wand. “Will you give me my wand back?” “No, all the prisoners’ wands were broken in half.” “So, I’m still a prisoner here.” Draco stared at her in silence. “No, you can be given partial freedom if you cooperate. You’re free to do what you want in this house except for those few rules, but only if you understand that I am in charge, and you must listen to me at all times.” Ginny clenched her teeth. She tried to imagine having to take his orders for the rest of her life, voluntarily being peaceful in the same room, but it just didn’t seem possible. But she tired to think of fighting with him for years to come, and how tiring and draining it would be. She’d seen his temper before and already knew that their situation would not change. If anything, it would get worse. “Can I still hate you?” Draco gave what she thought was a small smile, but it vanished. “I wouldn’t want it any other way, Weasley.” ~*~ Flipsy drew her a bath after breakfast. Draco announced after their discussion in the dining room that he would be gone all day, and that if she was smart she wouldn’t try to escape again. Though her hand was healed, she could still feel the memory of the pain, and wasn’t planning on trying that again anytime soon. After a glorious vanilla and raspberry scented bath, she walked into her closet with a ivory towel wrapped around her thin body. She toyed with her necklace as she looked at the clothes in awe. They were all luxurious, ranging from dress robes to Muggle jeans, and every one of them looked to be her size. She grabbed a long, plain beige dress with thick straps; the bottom fell to the floor when she put it on and found it was comfortable while still showing off her curves. She checked herself out in a floor length mirror; she was a lot thinner than she realized. In fact, this was the first time she had seen her over reflection in a month. She walked up to the mirror until her close was a centimeter away from it. Her stomach grew heavy at the realization that she didn’t look like the Ginny she used to. The fire had died in her eyes; even her freckles have dulled. There were dark circles under her eyes, making her look years older than she really was, and her cheek bones protruded slightly. Sighing, she stepped away and towel dried her hair, annoyed that she couldn’t use magic. She decided to first explore the huge house, wondering what she would find and how long it would take her. She started with the downstairs. Right next to the dining room she found a huge kitchen, but she just had time to glimpse at a large, old fashioned stove before a few house-elves shooed her out of the room. Down the hall from the kitchen was a tea room, elaborated with several tea sets, one indicating it was from Japan. Adjacent to this room was a drawing room, with a piano. Ginny couldn’t fight the temptation to play a few select notes. On the opposite side of the dining room, she found a large, empty room which she suspected as a ball room. It had several chandeliers and long, swooping drapes over the windows. A grand piano and a harp stood in one corner, and a stage was set up right next to it. Ginny gasped as she looked up at the ceiling--there were dozens of stars, despite it being light out. She tore herself away from the ball room and went down the hall, where she found her next favorite room-a library. Though she was no Hermione, she had always found a passion for reading and she immediately selected a book and nestled into a cozy armchairs. She didn’t stop reading until her stomach growled with hunger, but before she could get up to walk to the kitchens, Flipsy appeared by her side with a tray of soup and sandwiches. “Would Miss care for lunch?” Ginny greedily took the tray and set it on an end table next to her. She gulped down the delicious, hot soup, thankful that she could have food whenever she wanted. She was halfway through her turkey sandwich when she noticed that Flipsy was still there. “Er…yes?” Ginny asked. “Flipsy just wants to know if Miss is enjoying herself.” Ginny suppressed a snort. “Enjoying myself isn’t the exact word.” She set down her sandwich. “I saw that there are other house-elves here. How come you’re the only one that helps me?” Flipsy grinned. “Flipsy is your own personal house-elf, ma’am.” “Personal? So you’ll do whatever I ask for?” Flipsy nodded with enthusiasm. “Yes, Miss! Flipsy is happy to serve you!” Ginny sat there, gathering this new information. “Then you could always tell me what I need to know?” Flipsy kept on nodding. “Flipsy can tell Miss things like where certain books are, and about the secret passage way, and-” “And why Malfoy is keeping me here?” Flipsy stopped nodding. “Oh no, Miss. Flipsy can not tell you that.” “But you’re supposed to tell me…” “Master Malfoy is my master, Miss, and he forbade me to talk about it.” Ginny’s face lit up. “So there’s something there to talk about!” Flipsy’s face fell. “No, Miss! Flipsy-”. The house-elf paused, growing panicked, and grabbed Ginny’s book off her lap and hit herself on the head. “Don’t do that!” Ginny cried as she reached down and snatched the book back. “I’m sorry-you’re right, we shouldn’t talk about it.” Flipsy panted. “Flipsy is sorry if I upset Miss-Flipsy had to punish herself.” All Ginny could do was nod her head once. She felt horrible trying to use the house-elf like that. She pushed the half eaten food back to Flipsy. “I’m suddenly not very hungry anymore.” She picked up her book and pretended to read until she heard Flipsy disappear. Ginny stood at the pages, her eyes not moving. Draco had told her last night that she was a prize, but why her? She wouldn’t put it past him to enjoy making her life miserable, but enough to want to live in the same house? And one day in the house and she was already more comfortable in the house than the prison--surely that couldn’t be apart of his plan. Her eyes widened--unless he wanted to make it seem that she would have an easier life, and just when she got her hopes up, he smashed them back down. Yes, that would be a very Slytherin thing to do. No, she decided, she wouldn’t give him any advantage of cooperating. It stared to grow dark outside, but she continued to sit in her chair. Her eyes slowly scanned the page; they were growing heavy. She blinked several times, fighting a yawn, and nestled more into the chair, her head resting on the back. Just a few more pages and then she would rest her eyes for a bit… She was dreaming she was on a broomstick, soaring over Hogwart’s Quidditch field. The sun had just set over the Forbidden Forest, basking the green grass in twilight. She let out a smile as she made a daring loop; this was her favorite time to fly. She spun and practiced moves until it grew dark out, but she made no move to go back inside. She just finished a lap around the field when she noticed someone standing on the ground, staring up at her with a broomstick in their hand. She had a sudden pang of aggravation--someone else was stealing her alone time. Before she had time to tell them to bugger off, they got on their broom and flew up to the opposite side of the field. She was annoyed, but curious at whom it was, and flew towards them. She would just get with in distance when they would speed away from her. Ginny stopped, stumped, and followed them. So they wanted to play a game, did they? Ginny was a good flyer, but this person was noticeably better. They continued to out fly her and the more Ginny chased, the farther away they flew. She let out an aggravated groan--curiosity was killing her and this person wouldn’t let up. “Will you just stop already?” she yelled. She heard a deep laugh-the person was male. She hastily leaned forward on her room to speed dive him, but misjudged her strength and went flying off the broom. She was falling through the dark sky, her screams echoing between the stands. She saw the male flyer speeding towards her, but he was too far away--he couldn’t reach her in time. She was falling…falling… She landed softly in a dark room with one barred window--she was back in her cell. Hermione was staring at her with tears in her eyes, her dirty face lit up by the moonlight. “Whatever you do, Ginny, you have to get out of here alive. You have to. They won’t kill you--you’re a Pureblood.” Ginny felt wetness on her cheeks--she was crying. “You won’t die, Hermione. You’re too smart. They-” “They see me as a threat,” she said with a gentle smile. “Don’t be sad, Ginny. Death will set me free. But you--you still have more waiting for you. I know it.” Ginny woke up with a sharp breath, bolting up right and knocking her book to the ground. She placed her trembling hand over her racing heart, trying to calm herself. “Miss! Miss!” Ginny jumped at the house-elf next to her. “You scared me, Flispy!” “Flipsy is sorry, Miss, but you’re late!” Ginny stared at the elf in puzzlement. “Late for what?” “Dinner, Miss! Master isn’t happy, Miss. You should hurry down to the dining room!” Ginny didn’t understand why the house-elf was panicking. She took her time walking down the hall to the dining room, though the house-elf tried to drag her forward by grabbing onto her dress. Her dream slipped away from her mind, and she thought of how Draco acted towards her earlier that day. Surely someone who had healed her wound wouldn’t mind if she was late for dinner. She entered the dining room where candles were lit in the middle of the table. A glazed ham stood on a large, porcelain dinner plate, amongst salads and mashed potatoes. She went to sit down when she stopped at sight of Draco. His red wine was already half gone, and his face was completely blank, though his eyes narrowed at her. He set his napkin on his lap and nodded his head towards her empty chair, which she took after a moment. Only the clangs of silverware against the dishes filled the otherwise empty room. Ginny watched Draco drain the rest of his wine before it filled up by itself. There was food on his plate, but he did not touch it. The silence brought on horrible tension that made Ginny squirm. She pushed her long hair out of her face. “I fell asleep in the library.” She was careful not to apologize, because she wasn’t sorry at all that she made him angry, but she felt a need to say something. Draco set down his wine glass. His cheeks had a pink tint to them. “You are to be at dinner on time every night. Is that understood?” Ginny set down the spoon in the mashed potatoes. “I said I fell asleep.” “I don’t bloody care if a house plant is strangling you--you’re to be on time. I have more important things to do than wait for you. It’s rude making me wait.” Ginny laughed. “Yes, and you’re not being rude to me at all! I don’t know what the hell is up your butt, but don’t-” Draco came at her so fast that Ginny didn’t have time to react. He grabbed her shoulders and roughly pushed her against the wall, her body pinned by his. She could smell wine off his breath, and glanced up into his eyes, which narrowed at her. “I’d watch yourself, Weasley,” he growled. “You don’t want to make me lose my temper.” Ginny couldn’t help but whimper. If this wasn’t his temper, then what was? His angered state seemed different than earlier that day. “Get off, Malfoy, you’re hurting me.” Draco gave her a sinister grin and pressed further into her. “What’s wrong, Weasley? Don’t tell me you don’t like this.” He grabbed her hands from pushing him off and held them against the wall on either side of her head. Ginny refused to let out a cry of shock as he pushed something hard into her stomach, and knowing where he kept his wand, she knew that wasn’t it. Draco glanced at her round eyes and smiled again. “Feel that, Weasley? See what happens when you make me angry?” Ginny glared at him. “You’re drunk, Malfoy. Get off me!” “You should be thankful I find you disgusting and won’t do anything to you,” he growled. “Any other Death Eater would have loved to tie you up and show you what it pays to be a blood traitor.” “Fuck you,” she yelled. “I knew that’s why you brought me here. You want to torture me, don’t you? Couldn’t pass up having your enemy under constant watch, could you?” Draco’s smiled dropped, but he took some pressure off her. “Well, aren’t you clever? Yes, the Dark Lord also agreed with me that there are more, better ways to torture someone.” Ginny glared at him. “You’re disgusting,” she said between clenched teeth. “You get off on making me miserable.” Draco rubbed himself into her. “It appears so.” He let go of her wrists and stepped away from her. “Don’t talk back to me again, or I’ll show you what happens when you really piss me off.” Ginny watched him leave the dining room without another word, and only after he was gone did she fall to her knees. She placed her head in her trembling hands, feeling more dirty than scared. ~*~ Hello my readers! I am back again, and as promised, this time with a novel length story! I do hope you enjoy it. I can not promise how often I can put chapters out. I’m halfway through writing the story now, but school starts soon as does my new job at a newspaper. Plus, I’m writing my own novel, so it goes to say I won’t have a lot of free time. I started writing this several months ago, and apologize if this idea has already been done. I have been out of the fandom world for a bit and don’t know if this idea has been tossed around or not. I assure you my idea is very original and will have a big twist. I am looking for someone to edit my chapters. I try to do the editing myself, but by time I miss a thing or two. I would like to ask for someone with experience, either in editing another story before, or maybe you’ve taken special editing classes in school. If interested, email me at Londonism21@yahoo.com Also, for those who have read “Witch Wish” by me, a group called Fiction Cast did are doing a pod cast show covering that story. A group of talented readers voice out the story-its very exciting (for me at least) and everyone should check it out. They’ve only done one half of the story so far but it should be completed soon. Here is the website: http://musecast.co.uk/fictioncast/ Just go to SHOWS and I’m the second one. But check out the other one as well and make sure to comment on their work-they did a great job. Enough from me. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter and don’t hesitate to leave a review!! Liz21 2. Chapter Two -------------- This chapter is dedicated to my wonderful beta Amanda aka Dorthey Star. Not only does she do amazing, fast work, but she puts up with me on AIM. Any mistakes you see are mine and not hers. Chapter Two Ginny stayed in the library over the next few days and took her meals in her room. She wondered if it angered Draco that she stopped showing up for meals, but he never made an effort to get her, and she wasn’t one to say otherwise. She didn’t know how long she stayed in the dining room the night Draco attacked her. The candles had burnt out and Flipsy found her on the ground with her knees to her chest, hugging herself. It was what she did when she spent her time in the cell. Once her cell mate was gone and there was no one to comfort her in a time of need, she took to comforting herself the best way she knew how. It was a brief reminder of how her mother used to hug her as a small child when she was scared of a thunderstorm, or how her brothers would greet her after they came back from Hogwarts. Even her father would be the first to give her a hug when he came home from work, saying he couldn’t give anyone else one until his little girl had her fill. Flipsy had convinced her to wipe her tears and follow her to her bedroom where a steaming bath waited for her. But instead of seeking relaxation, she wanted to clean the filth off of her from Draco’s touch. She hated the man, but the shock wore off. What else did she expect from a Death Eater? She knew that she should count herself lucky that she hadn’t been raped, by him or any of the Death Eaters. She would hear women’s screams during the night before they turned into quiet sobs. After awhile, they just stopped resisting and took it in silence. But every time a Death Eater approached her cell door and eyed her, they wouldn’t get as far as unbuckling their pants before Crabbe and Goyle would step in and tell them to take it somewhere else. Being protected by those two just added to the nausea she already felt. Flipsy had managed to get her out of bed and to shower the next morning, and once she was led down to the library (after she was assured that Draco was out of the manor) she found it easy to lose herself in a world of fiction. In one day she read classics such as *Beowulf* and *Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.* By day two she found Draco had an appreciation for Chaucer, but quit her reading for the day when she reached the Wife of Bath’s tale of how a knight raped a woman and yet managed to find love in the end with a woman who turned beautiful and faithful. She despised the whole idea behind it. On the third day she returned to the library, and looking for a challenge to absorb her, she picked *Paradise Lost*. She was served tea by Flipsy after a light breakfast of fruit and yogurt. “Is Miss enjoying her book?” Flipsy asked with a small smile. Ginny smiled at the house-elf. She had grown found of her. “Yes, thank you, though I’m started to grow bored of reading. Is there anything else to do here?” Flipsy nodded. “Oh yes, Miss. There is the piano and archery range…oh, but Miss can not go out…Oh! There is an indoor garden where flowers bloom all year long and-” “Didn’t you mention something about a secret passage-way?” Flipsy nodded. “Yes, Miss, it is of most secret.” “Could you show me it?” The house-elf paused. “Flipsy is not sure, Miss. Master never said anything about it.” “Well, if he never mentioned it, then I’m sure he won’t mind,” Ginny said. “I mean, if he was so against it, surely he would have added that in with places not to go.” Flipsy stared at her hands in concentration. “I’m not sure, Miss…most of the house-elves don’t even know about it. It’s so well hidden next to Mistress’ portrait and-” Ginny sat up straight. “You mean Narcissa Malfoy?” Flipsy looked up with wide eyes. “Flipsy did not mean to say that! No, Master won’t be happy!” She frantically looked around before she grabbed a small vase next to Ginny and bashed her head into it. Ginny got to her feet. “Are you okay?” Flipsy swayed. “Flipsy had to punish herself, Miss.” “But you didn’t tell me on purpose,” Ginny said as she watched her stumble “It doesn’t matter,” Flipsy said. “Master always says that when in doubt, a house-elf should be punished.” “That’s horrible!” Ginny exclaimed. “Well, I forbid you to hurt yourself for now on!” Flipsy looked like she wanted to argue, but she nodded and vanished with a pop. Shaking her head, Ginny left the room and set off in search for a picture of Draco’s late mother. She went down the corridor, and took two rights past the drawing room. Random portraits of centuries' worth of Malfoys were hung on the walls, but none of them were of the blonde haired beauty she remembered from the Quidditch World Cup. She took a left down a darker corridor; her footsteps echoed on the floor as she walked on. The lights were dimmed and there were no windows. She walked up a small flight of stairs, only five steps, and came to a dead end with an empty frame. Ginny swore under her breath. She turned to leave when someone asked, “And what do you think you’re doing here?” Ginny spun around and stared right into the portrait of Narcissa Malfoy. “What? But where did you…?” “I was in my other portrait,” Narcissa said, “but then I heard footsteps, and my dear Draco never comes to visit me.” Ginny wrinkled her nose at Draco’s name. “No, I suppose he wouldn’t have the heart to, would he?” Narcissa stared at Ginny. “You never answered my question. What are you doing here?” “Trying to find a secret passageway,” Ginny said. She put her hand along the wall. “Is there a password? Or do you pull something?” “I asked what are you doing in Malfoy Manor?” Ginny stopped what she was doing. “I’m not quite sure,” she said with a serious tone. “You should ask your son that.” Narcissa let out a harsh laugh that made Ginny’s blood turn cold. “Silly girl, didn’t I say he never visits me? I don’t even believe he went to my funeral.” Ginny gaped at her. “But you’re his mother!” “Yes, well, I’m quite sure he thinks it’s his fault that I’m dead.” Ginny thought hard, trying to remember how she did indeed die. She remembered Harry saying something about it before the end of the war, how there was a mishap… “I was murdered,” Narcissa said before Ginny could ask. “By the Dark Lord himself.” “But why?” Ginny whispered. “Harry said something about a mistake. I remember now.” Narcissa examined her nails. “And why should I tell you that?” Curiosity filled her body. “Because,” Ginny said, “because if you do, I’ll get Malfoy to visit you!” Narcissa narrowed her eyes. “Like he would listen to filth like you.” “I’ll get him to,” Ginny said, ignoring her comment, “if you tell me what happened. And where the passageway is.” The two stared each other down, neither saying a word, when Narcissa sighed. “Might as well,” Narcissa said. “Maybe he can inform me why a blood traitor is in our house.” “Yes, yes, I’m horrible and poor and a disgrace,” Ginny said. “Get on with it already.” Narcissa frowned at her. “I was covering for my son,” she said. “If I didn’t, then he would have been murdered himself.” “What were you covering?” “He disappeared from his post,” she said. “He was set to spy on a member of the Order of the Phoenix, and when I went to check up on him later, he and the member were gone.” “So why…?” “Why was I killed instead?” Narcissa asked. “I told the Dark Lord that I switched posts with Draco, and it was I who left and lost valuable information.” She paused. “I’d die for him again if I could.” Ginny stared at the blonde beauty in awe. She blinked away tears in her eyes, wondering if her mother had tried to protect her brothers before they were murdered. Narcissa rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t go all soft on me now. Do you want to know where the secret passageway is or not?” “Oh!” Ginny said, startled. She almost forgot about why she was there in the first place. “Yes, please.” “On my left,” she said, pointing, “on the wall, there’s a stone that sticks out slightly more than the rest. Push that.” Ginny stepped to her right and scanned the wall with her hand, finding the stone eye level to her. She stopped for a moment, glancing at Narcissa’s portrait, before she pushed. The stone wall groaned before it moved inward; a space big enough for a door shifted and hung open, giving Ginny entrance to a stone passage lit with lanterns. She murmured her thanks before she stepped inside the passageway; the stone wall slid shut behind her. The ceilings were low and the passage was narrow; there were spider webs collecting on the lanterns. Ginny’s footsteps echoed as she walked on, wondering where she would end up. She had been walking for about five minutes, the passage taking her left and right, when a black door appeared on the left hand side. Curious, Ginny opened it up and stared at a tapestry of the Slytherin Snake. She walked into it, and pushing it out of her way, she found herself in the back corner of the library. Amazed, and wondering why she never thought to look behind the tapestry before, she walked back into the passageway, closed the door, and moved on. Along the way she found several more doors that lead to more rooms. At one point the passageway broke off into a separate one, which Ginny found lead to a pool that she didn’t know existed. She had to double back to return to the main passageway, and continued on her way. More time had passed, and her feet started to grow tired. She thought of just leaving through one of the doors, but she hadn’t seen one since she climbed a set of stairs and she wanted to know where the passage ended. She continued to walk when up ahead she saw a dead end and a brick sticking out to push in the middle of the wall. Anxious, she ran the rest of the way and stopped right before the wall. She went to push the brick when she heard a voice on the other side. “It’s none of your business why she’s here, Pansy.” Ginny froze--it was Draco’s voice. He was home already? She pressed her ear up against the brick wall. What room was he in? She waited for Pansy’s response, but she heard no voice. She heard Draco sigh. “I don’t know where she is now--she’s hiding from me. Serves her right; she’s been as difficult as expected.” Ginny narrowed her eyes. It was he who was being difficult. She strained to hear a female voice but heard nothing--he must have been talking over Floo Powder. “Look, Pansy, will you just leave me alone? You know you’re not supposed to Floo me in my study in the first place.” Ginny’s heart raced. It was his study that the passageway led to, a room she was forbidden to enter. Promising to come back again, she went down the passage, anxious to leave before Draco caught her. She reached the door to the library, and**,** closing it behind her, she slipped through the tapestry and reached the nearest aisle of books. “What are you doing here?” Ginny let out a yelp and turned around--Draco walked towards her from the next aisle. She forced herself not to look at the tapestry and grabbed a book. “Just looking,” she said as she held up the book as proof Ginny watched his eyes flicker from her face to the tapestry, and back to her. She clutched the book, barely daring to breathe. “Is this where you’ve been hiding?” “Um,” Ginny said, not sure if he meant the passageway or the library, “why do you want do know?” Draco raised an eyebrow at her. “This is my house, Weasley. I have a right to know if you’ve taken vacancy in my library.” Ginny let out a long breath. “Oh, that,” she said. “Yes, I like it here. Is that a problem?” “Watch your tongue, Weasley,” Draco said, narrowing his eyes. “You don’t want me to repeat what happened last time” Ginny’s face fell, remembering how he pushed himself onto her. She glanced down at her feet, her face red. “No, I don’t,” she said. A silence occurred between the two. Ginny played with the book in her hand, not even glancing at the title. She held her breath, wishing for him to go away, to leave her in her solitude. “I hear Flipsy told you about the secret room.” Ginny looked up and dropped the book. “What-what secret room?” She was caught. Barely three days in Malfoy Manor, and she just had to get into something that was none of her business. If only she hadn’t snooped--now he’d send her back to the prison. “The garden of course,” Draco said, crossing his arms over his chest. He raised an eyebrow at her. “Is something wrong, Weasley? You’re all…twitchy.” Ginny stilled her beating heart. “No, I--I just didn’t know that room was a secret. That’s all.” Draco uncrossed his arms and shrugged. “It’s not anymore. It was when it was built--my mother had it made, but kept it secret from my father.” He scrunched his nose. “He hated flowers and such things.” Ginny’s eyes widened at the mention of his mother. “Your mother--she’s-” “Dead, Weasley. Just like yours.” Ginny stopped. She had meant to say that his mother was in the hallway, and had hoped to persuade him to visit like she promised her, but had stopped at the mention of her mother. That was it. He pushed her last night like she was nothing but garbage, he dug his….his *thing* into her like she was a hooker, and now he mentions her dead mother like she was no one special. Furious, Ginny raised her hand to smack his cheek in hope to hit some manners into him. Draco quickly caught her before she could touch his porcelain skin. Her cheeks reddened with fury as he squeezed her hand. She was caught, and she didn’t care anymore. A moment ago she feared he would throw her back in the prison, and now she welcomed his threats. He stared at her, challenging her. His eyes were like a cloudy sky with a hint of rain. “Come on,” he spat, walking away and dragging her with him. Now she felt fear. “Wait--Malfoy--what the,” she sputtered, trying to form words as they left the library. Where was he taking her? Wild ideas were forming in her head as they walked down the hallway. He was going to torture her. Knowing him, he had a room full of devices for pain, and because she just couldn’t behave he was going to make sure she was punished. He would install in her mind just what would happen if she didn’t treat him nicely. Or maybe he did know she went into the secret passageway and found his study and was using pain as a device to make sure she stayed away from it. But if the war taught her one thing, it was to fight for her life. She frantically pulled her arm, trying to get out of his grasp, but he only held on tighter. She looked around, trying to find something to hit him with, but the few vases they walked by were out of reach, and they were walking too fast to grab it. She was about to take a wild lunge for his hair, hoping to rip some out and cause him to let go of her, when they stopped in front of a large painting of a woman in a white dress, standing in the middle of a field. Ginny took a quick breath, not even noticing that she wasn’t breathing. Draco didn’t look at her, but his face was solid, showing no expression, only his lips were in a slight frown. “Cachetteen jardin,” he spoke to the painting. Ginny watched the woman’s hair and dress move with a gust of wind before there was a popping sound, and the picture frame moved forward, revealing a large hole. Draco cocked his head towards it. “Well, don’t just stand there.” He released her hand and nudged her towards the entrance. Ginny knew her eyes were popping out as she stared into the dark hole, wondering what was waiting for her on the other said. She opened her mouth to argue, but Draco only pushed her closer. “Get in, Weasley, or no dinner for a week. Don’t make me use my wand.” She could see no way out of it. Summoning her Gryffindor bravery, she crawled into the hole. It was padded and easy to move through, but with no lighting her moves were slow. She sped up when she heard Draco climb in behind her. Maybe if she got to the room quickly enough, she would have time to find something to defend herself with against him. Just as her pace quickened, part of the tunnel lit up. She halted as she looked at the lights. They seemed to be small speckles, dozens of them, moving throughout the tunnel walls and ceiling, guiding the way to the other end. Ginny picked up her hand and, with caution, poked a light near her head. It flew away at her touch. “What the-” Draco bumped into her from behind. “Dammit, Weasley!” he yelled. “If this tunnel wasn’t crowded enough…stop playing with the faeries and keep on moving.” Faeries? What were faeries doing in a tunnel? Ginny continued on, calling Draco a few names that she didn’t bother to keep under a whisper. As they moved on, the faerie lights increased. Her heart couldn’t help but lighten as she saw them all. What horrible doom was waiting for her when faeries were involved? The tunnel was completely lit now to where she could see ivory on the sides of the wall. She blinked her eyes when she looked ahead and saw something green. She moved faster. It couldn’t be… Ginny let out a gasp when the tunnel ended in to a room. She climbed out and stood up, her head moving in all directions. There was a willow tree with a small pond, roses, tulips, and daffodils. There were pansies and exotic flowers with colors so bright they seemed to be off a postcard. Among a patch of lilies there stood a wooden bench, next to a fountain where water squirted out of a carved rose. She spun around, taking it all in, until she felt dizzy. She looked at Draco in shock, almost forgetting he was there. “It’s a garden.” “Clearly,” he said. He dug his hands into his pockets, his back stiffened. “Why would you show me this? You hate me.” She studied his face, and though it appeared expressionless, she saw a glimpse of guilt in his eyes. “Is this for that one night-” “I’m not apologizing,” he snapped. “Don’t start thinking I feel bad or anything, Weasley. Let’s just get one thing clear. What I did and said-I meant it all. But I’ve already been through one war--I refuse to go through another one in my own home.” “Then why did you bring me here to live with you? What, did you think that we would just get along?” Draco’s eyes narrowed. “Will you just be quiet for once? Merlin, I try to get you out of that drafted library and I get jumped on.” The library. It all made sense. He was afraid that the more time she spent in the library, she would one day discover what was behind the Slytherin banner and where it led to. “So you want me to come here instead of the library,” she said slowly. Draco ran a hand over his face. “Weasley, you’ve giving me a headache. Do whatever you want. I’d just thought you’d like to know there’s more than that damn room.” He pressed his fingertips to his temples. “I need a bloody drink. Let’s go.” “Wait, I want to stay here.” Draco let out a cold laugh. “If you think you can live your life here hiding from me, you’ve got another thing coming. You’re joining me for a brandy. Now.” The thought of joining Draco for anything seemed revolting, but one glance at his face which clearly said You-Don’t-Have-A-Choice**,** sent her back to the tunnel. He led them to a room near the drawing room with a fireplace, a pool table, a thirteen foot bar, a chess board and several leather armchairs. Draco didn’t say a word as he took out two glasses and filled them with brandy. He handed one to her and then took a rather large sip out of his. Ginny sipped hers and grimaced at the taste. “What’s the matter?” Draco asked as he stood by the fireplace, which a house-elf lit. “Don’t like brandy?” Ginny scrunched her nose as she took another sip. “Harry liked it--I always thought it was horrible.” Draco’s jaw clenched at Harry’s name. "Stupid Potter,” he muttered before draining the glass in one gulp. He walked back to the bar and filled his glass again. He took another hefty sip before he sat down in a chair across from Ginny. Ginny sat with her feet tucked under her. She set her drink on the table, not wanting to drink anymore, when Draco fixed a glare on her, ordering her to drink up without saying a word. With a sigh, Ginny grabbed the drink, pinched her nose, and took a gulp. Draco smirked as Ginny squirmed in her seat. “It’s not that bad,” he said. Ginny shook her head. “It is if you’ve gotten sick off this before.” Draco took a drink. “Malfoys aren’t foolish enough to drink until they’re sick.” Ginny rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I did it on purpose, Malfoy. Harry wanted to play a Muggle drinking game.” Draco clenched his hand around his drink. “Potter, Potter, Potter,” he snarled. “Is that all you ever talk about?” “I was just making conversation,” Ginny said, glaring at him. “You don’t need to be a brat about it.” Draco set his drink on the table and stared at her until Ginny shifted in discomfort. She tried to look everywhere but his gray eyes. “Drink.” Ginny looked at him. “What?” “I said drink,” he said as he leaned back in his chair. “You love drinking games so much--every time you insult me, you drink.” Ginny’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t do that!” “Make that two drinks for telling me what I can and can not do,” Draco said with a wide grin. Ginny stared at him, dumbfounded. She didn’t move, and neither did he, though he continued to stare at her with a large smile. Reluctantly, Ginny took two tiny sips from her drink. Draco shook his head. “I didn’t say sip at it, now did I?” Ginny glared at him and drank too bigger drinks, coughing as the warm liquid went down her throat. Within the next hour, Ginny had already gone through insulting Draco several more times and draining her glass. Draco poured her a second on; he was on his fourth. “You know,” Ginny said, her tongue loose from the brandy. “The more I drink the more I’m going to insult you. I can’t help but show my real feelings when I drink.” Draco’s cheeks were tinted pink. “You can’t help that when you’re sober, Weasley.” Ginny laughed, her head light. “What can I say? You’re a bastard--oh crap,” Ginny said, as she drank a big gulp for the insult. She looked up at Draco. “How come you’re not drunk yet? You’ve had more than I have.” “You haven’t touched booze in quite some time--your tolerance is gone to shit,” he said as he took another drink, spilling a bit on his shirt. Ginny clapped her hands. “We should play a drinking game! That will get you drunk! I know a really good one-” “Absolutely not, Weasley.” “Look, Malfoy. I’m not going to be the only one making a fool out of myself here. It’s a simple game-” “I’m not playing suites.” Ginny paused, her hands frozen in air. “What did you say?” she asked. “How did you know that’s what I wanted to play?” Draco shrugged his shoulders. “Lucky guess,” he said as he drained his drink. Ginny cocked her head to the side. “Since when do you know Muggle drinking games?” “Pansy dated a half-blood before the war,” he said. “I’ve hated her ever since for it.” Ginny snorted. “There’s nothing wrong with half-bloods. Harry was one!” “Will you shut up already about Potter?” Draco snarled. “I don’t want to hear it!” Ginny set down her drink, spilling the amber liquid onto the table. “I can talk about him if I want, thank you very much!” “Drink!” he yelled. “No!” Ginny yelled back. “I’m already sloshed because of you! Why are you getting me drunk anyways, huh? So you can take advantage of me?” “Why would I want something that Potter’s already had?” Ginny’s face turned red but she remained silent. Draco laughed. “What, you and Potter never did the dirty deed?” Ginny glared at him. “No, we didn’t, not that it’s any of your business.” “Poor Potter--died a virgin.’ Ginny stood up quickly, advancing on him. “Don’t you dare talk about him that way!” she yelled. “He died trying to make my life better!” Draco smirked as he stood up, glaring down at her. “And look now who’s doing that for you now.” Ginny shook her head. “I’m no better off here than I was at prison! I’d rather be back there where I didn’t have to suffer with you everyday!” Draco dropped his smirk. “You ungrateful little brat,” he snapped. “You should be thankful I got you out of that shit hole before you were raped!” “Why did you? So you could want to have me for yourself?” Draco clutched the empty brandy glass in his hand. “I haven’t done anything to you!” Ginny trembled, but stood her ground. “I felt how you responded to me in the dining room. You’re just waiting for the perfect moment. What’s the matter, Malfoy? Can’t nail a girl unless she’s too drunk to say no?” Draco chucked the glass against the wall, sending shards everywhere. “Get out!” he yelled. Ginny shook her head. “You’re not denying it--is that why you brought me here? Is it?” “Get out!” Ginny looked at the wand he now had in his hand and had enough sense to scatter. She stopped right outside the door and leaned against the hallway wall, listening to Draco breaking more glasses. She trembled as she heard him scream with anger--she didn’t want to imagine what he would do if he found her waiting for him, but she refused to let him off so easily. She hit something that even Draco couldn’t weasel his way out of and she wasn’t about to give up until she got some answers. A half hour passed before she sank to the floor in a sitting position, the brandy from earlier making her sleepy. Draco had stopped making noise, but he wasn’t coming out, either. She blinked her heavy eyes as she let out a yawn. She heard footsteps pause right next to her, but she was suddenly too sleepy to open her eyes. Soon she was picked up from the ground and nestled into something warm and strong. “Stupid Weasley.” Ginny could only manage to frown at Draco’s words as she nestled into his arms. She felt him start to walk; her head swayed with his footsteps. Next thing she knew, she was being settled into her warm bed. The last thing she felt before she fell asleep were a pair of staring eyes. ~*~ Ginny walked down the grand staircase the next morning, thankful that it was a workday for Draco. Her head hurt a little from the brandy she had the night before, and every time she closed her eyes she would see the image of Draco’s angry face. She had little remembrance of how she got to bed--all she remembered was floating into something strong. She shook her head, planning on never being in the same room with Draco again. She stood in the entrance hallway, fidgeting in her light green summer dress, deciding on what to do for the day. She headed for the drawing room, intending on playing the piano and brushing up on her skills and was halfway into the room when she paused. She wasn’t alone. She saw him out of the corner of her eye; her frozen body wouldn’t move. Draco rustled his newspaper he was reading. “About time you woke up,” he said casually. “What are you doing here?” Ginny asked, not looking at him. Draco folded his newspaper. “Well I live here, don’t I?” “I mean,” Ginny said, “shouldn’t you be working?” Draco shrugged and poured a cup of tea. “I took some time off. I’ll be home for the next few weeks.” He pointed at the chair next to him. “Sit.” Ginny stiffened but sat down, refusing to look him in the eye. “I’m not a dog, you know.” She watched Draco pour her a cup of tea. “Watch it, Weasley. Do you want me to get out the brandy again?” “I’d rather not be around you when you drink, thank you very much.” Silence filled the room, and Ginny couldn’t help but look up from Draco’s hands on the table to his face. He was staring at the teapot as if it insulted him instead of her. “That,” Draco said finally, still not looking at her. “was a mistake. Clearly you can’t handle your liquor and didn’t mean the things you said.” Ginny frowned. ‘The things I said? Malfoy, I didn’t-” “You egged me on,” Draco snapped, looking at her. “If you didn’t say anything about me wanting to take advantage of you I wouldn’t have-” “Acted like a five year old having a tantrum?” Draco’s eyes narrowed at her. “That’s what you get for not obeying me. Don’t you understand that your life is in my hands?” Ginny crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll never obey you, Malfoy. I think we’d both be better off if you let me go.” Draco let out a harsh laugh that reminded her of Narcissa’s. “I’m never letting you go, Weasley,” he hissed. “This is your home now. I’d suggest that you learn to close your mouth if you ever want to live peacefully.” Ginny glared at him. She refused to give in. “This house is big enough for the both of us. Why don’t be just live in separate wings and shifts? I’m sure we can arrange it where you never have to see me again.” “Which reminds me,” Draco said as he leaned back in his seat. “Your privileges are cut off. You’re to stay where I can see you at all times unless I give you permission otherwise.” Ginny’s mouth dropped open. “You’re joking.” “I assure you I’m not,” Draco said, his tone now calm and controlled. “What, do you think you can fight with me and then hide in the library all day? You should be thankful that I’m allowing you a separate room to sleep in.” Ginny stared at him in shock, not knowing what to say. That was her plan, after all. She knew she could survive living with him if she could just avoid him at all costs, him and his drinking. Draco learned up and picked up his tea, taking a sip. “I suggest you learn to keep quiet if you have nothing to say, Weasley. I’m sick of being treated with disrespect.” “You want my respect?” Ginny finally said. “You have to earn it first.” Draco looked at her over the brim of his cup. “I’ll do what I wish,” he said as he drained the tea and set the cup on the coffee table. “Today I have to go to Knockturn Alley to do some business. You’re to accompany me.” Ginny’s spirits rose, and she hated herself for it. “I get to leave this place?” she asked, her voice too eager. “It’s not a field trip, Weasley,” Draco said as he stood up. “I’m only bringing you with because I don’t trust you enough to leave you alone anymore.” He walked away from her and was halfway out the room when he stopped. “Well? Come on now, I can’t wait for you all day.” Ginny sighed and followed him out of the room. “When I leave a room, you follow,” Draco said as they walked down the hall, “unless I say otherwise. Merlin only knows I don’t want you in the bathroom with me.” “Thank the gods,” Ginny muttered. Draco walked to a closet by the front door and pulled out a black and forest green cloak. “Put this on,” he said, handing her the green one, then put the black one on himself. “And keep the hood up at all times.” Ginny slipped the breezy cloak on and pulled the hood up, tucking her hair beneath it. “Why the hood?” she couldn’t help but ask. Draco fastened the cloak. “The last remaining Weasley would be a great prize to any Death Eater,” Draco said. “And I don’t like to share what’s mine.” Ginny glared at him. “How are we getting there?” “Apparating,” he said as he pulled out his wand and tapped the front door. “I don’t trust you with Floo Powder--you’d probably run off the second you got out of the fireplace.” Ginny swore. That was her plan. After Draco tapped the door a few more times, it swung open and she followed outside. The air was crisp warm with a cool breeze; autumn was approaching. Ginny stood for a moment on the front porch, extending her arms outward, soaking up all the sunlight she missed so much. “Weasley!” Draco yelled. Reluctantly, Ginny followed him down the stone path she took before. She glanced around as she and Draco walked along, making sure there was at least a few feet space between them. The grounds were different in the day light. The acres were rolling green hills with trees placed along the trail and, as far as Ginny could see, around the fence, blocking the outside view. Rose bushes and other flowers were planted amongst the evergreen trees. Ginny titled her head up to look at the bright blue sky, making her hood fall back. She couldn’t help but smile at watching a bird fly--she hasn’t seen one in what seemed forever. Before she knew it, they reached the gate with the large M, and once they were on the other side of it, Draco turned around. He took one look at her and rolled his eyes. “Your hood, Weasley,” he said as he reached down and yanked it up. His hand brushed against her cheek, making Ginny jump. Suddenly, a vision crossed before her eyes, one of a man touching her face before kissing her. Ginny’s face grew bright red at what she saw, her mind racing at the vision. Draco frowned at her as he tucked her hair away. “What’s wrong with you?” “N-nothing,” Ginny said, unable to look him in the eyes. “I just remembered…something.” Remembered or forgotten? Ginny thought to herself hard, trying to trace in her web of thoughts where such an image would come from. Draco stared at her before he shrugged his shoulders. He grabbed her arm, and without a warning, he Disapparated. They appeared at the end of Knockturn Alley, Draco still clutching her arm. “We’re here,” he said before glancing at her hood again. “Follow me, and don’t talk to anyone,” he said as he set off. “And I suggest not running away--there are people here worse than me.” Ginny nodded, staying so close to him she could feel the heat from his body. They entered the dark alley that was busier with more people then she would have thought. Of course, since the dark side won the war, Ginny figured people wouldn’t be as afraid to show their support for dark magic. They weaved in and out of people, a few who glanced up at Draco and backed away from him. Draco, she noticed, seemed to walk with an air of authority down the alleyway, talking to no one and walking with his head high. A few people glanced at Ginny curiously, but she walked with her head down and her eyes on Draco’s feet. They walked further down the alley, and stopped in an empty area. Draco turned around and said, “I’m going into this shop. I want you to stay out here. Don’t move, and don’t talk to anyone.” Ginny nodded and watched Draco slip into a door. Ginny crouched by the window, peering in to see where he had gone into. She saw a collection of items and spotted Draco’s blonde head. She stood on her tip-toes, trying to see what he was doing, when a raspy voice made her jump. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing ‘ere?” Ginny whipped around and came face to face with a toothless, greasy old wizard. His eyes widened. “My, you are pretty! And all by yourself.” Ginny sucked up her Gryffindor courage. “I’m here with someone.” The old wizard looked around her. “I don’t see no one,” he said, looking back at her. “You’re ‘ere by your lonesome.” Ginny shook her head. “No,” she said. She thought of how people reacted in fear when Draco walked down the alley. “I’m here with Malfoy!” The old wizard’s face dropped. “Malfoy, eh?” he said as he inched closer. “Never did like that brat much. His dead father conned me out of my fortune.” “I mean, I’m not with him,” she said, shaking her head so fast a lock of her hair fell free. “I’m with my brothers!” The old wizard slid a dirty finger through her red hair, curling it around the tip and yanked it down, causing Ginny to gasp. “I do like me a red head,” the wizard said, stepping so close Ginny could smell his foul breath. “What did you say your name was again?” He grabbed her arm, and a scream bellowed up in Ginny’s throat. There was a slam of a door and Ginny was pressed up against someone, their arm around her, protecting her. “Step away, you filth!” she heard Draco yell. Ginny looked up as far as she could; her head was pressed into his chest. Draco’s face was furious and staring at the old wizard. The old wizard cowered. “Mr. Malfoy,” he said, bowing, “So-so sorry. Didn’t know this ‘ere lady was yours.” Draco pointed his wand at him, and with one look, the old man went running away. Draco stood there with his chest heaving, still clutching Ginny. He lowered his wand and looked down at her. “Are you okay?” he asked. Ginny tried to move. “Can’t…breathe…” Draco let her go and jumped away as if he was burned. Ginny took a breath of air as she looked up at Draco. “You didn’t need to come to my rescue like that,” she said as she pushed her hair back behind her ear. “I was handling it just fine.” Draco snorted. “So you knew that man is known for kidnapping women and selling them in the sex market?” Ginny paused, her eyes widening. “Apparently not,” Draco said. He sighed and held a hand out. “Well, come on. Now I have to hold your hand or else who knows who is going to try to pick you up next.” Ginny’s face burned and thought of refusing, when she looked to her side and swore she saw a hag walk by. Too quickly did she grab Draco’s hand and kept close as he led them farther down the alley. Her hand grew warm under his, and Ginny couldn’t help but fidget as they walked on. “Will you keep still?” Draco hissed as they passed a group of old women eyeing a tray of fingers and toes. “This is weird!” she whispered back. “I’m holding hands with a bloody Malfoy.” “Yes, yes, and I’m sure your whole family is turning in their graves.” Ginny shot him a glare. “Yours too,” she hissed back. Draco squeezed her hand hard. “We’re here--keep quiet,” he said as they walked into an empty store. There were tables of jewelry under glass cases, cursed hats and cloaks. Draco let go of her hand once they were inside. “Good morning, Mr. Malfoy,” an older woman with a tight gray bun said before bowing. She glanced at Ginny. “Ah! And who is your friend?” “That’s none of your concern,” Draco said, pulling on Ginny’s arm and keeping her close. The woman stared at Ginny before she bowed again. “My apologies, Mr. Malfoy. Please, what do I owe of this pleasure?” Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box. “This is my mother’s,” he said as he pushed the box along the counter to the woman’s hand. “I want you to check for any curses--Merlin only knows what that woman left me to find.” Ginny froze at the thought of Narcissa. She had completely forgotten about her meeting with her, and the promise she made to have Draco visit her. Now, standing here with him, she had no idea how she was going to accomplish that. The woman opened the box from her end and peered in without taking off the lid. Ginny glanced at Draco before standing up on her toes and craning her head, hoping to steal a peak. The woman eyed Ginny looking at her and shut the box. “I’ll have this ready for you in a week or two, Sir,” she said, still staring at Ginny. Ginny couldn’t help but glare back at her. Draco turned to Ginny and rolled his eyes. “Come on,” he said, grabbing her arm and leading her out of the store. He continued to hold onto her as they walked down the alley heading towards the end of it that met Diagon Alley. Ginny tried to squirm out of his grasp, but his hold was too strong. “Stop that or I’ll hold your hand again,” Draco growled. Ginny immediately obeyed. “So…” Ginny said as they walked. “You said that was your mother’s?” “What’s it to you?” “Well,” Ginny said, “why didn’t you ask her herself if it was cursed?” Draco stopped them both. “My mother’s dead, Weasley. You know that.” Ginny squirmed as Draco stared down at her. “It’s just,” she paused, not wanting to go on, “I think if you want to go see her portrait, she would be really happy and-” She stopped at the look on Draco’s face. His eyes grew wide and his lips thin. “You’ve been talking to my mother?” He said each word slowly, as if it took effort to talk. Ginny gulped. “Not on purpose. I-I got lost one day and she, uh, she helped me find my way back.” Draco continued to stare. He opened his mouth, shut it, and then shook his head. “It doesn’t matter anymore. You’re forbidden to talk to her ever again.” Ginny was too shocked to even argue. “You didn’t yell,” she said in awe. Draco grabbed her arm, tighter than necessary, and dragged her along side of him. “That can be easily arranged.” Ginny stared at him, leaving him to guide their walking. She knew he saw her out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t glance at her until they were at the edge of the alley. Only then when he looked at her did she realize what an effort he just put in to not fight, and wondered if she would ever be able to do the same. ~*~ Super quick update! And I’m already halfway done with chapter three! Once school starts next week updates would be as quick, so I figured I’d try to get as much done now while I can. Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed so far! I really appreciate it. Oh! Ever find yourself watching a movie and you come across an actor who is blonde, bad ass, and you think to yourself “That is so Draco!”? Everyone--go rent The Covenant! The movie itself isn’t too bad (has to do with magic), but one of the main characters is BLONDE, HOT, BAD ASS, AND DRACO ALL AROUND! And he mentions Harry Potter as well! So go--rent rent! Trust me, you will fall in love (and you get to see his butt!) Liz21 3. Chapter Three ---------------- Living in Malfoy Manor was not what Ginny had expected it to be. When she was younger and at Hogwarts, she and Ron used to brainstorm on what Malfoy Manor looked like to them. After meeting Draco and finding him to be nothing but a spoiled brat, and then later finding out his horrible father gave her Tom Riddle's diary, the only thing Ginny could think of when it came to the place those two lived at was dark. Dark hallways with statues of gargoyles staring at you while you walked by; your footsteps echoing and your heart beating so loudly, you could hear it. They imagined cobwebs--not for the sake of the place being unclean, but to add a dramatic effect. Horrible creatures would live in rooms throughout the house, and if you didn't know where you were going, a move to open up a random door could be your last. Sunlight wasn't allowed in the manor and was hidden by deep black drapes. There were rules on how to conduct yourself: no talking, no eye contact, and above all, no happiness. Ron also added that the whole family wore nothing but black and never went out during the day, but Ginny would have to comment that as horrible as the Malfoys were, they weren't vampires, though the pale skin did make her wonder. When she had first entered Malfoy Manor, clutched between Crabbe and Goyle, she was too shocked to find Draco Malfoy alive to take in her surroundings. For example, why was there was a fountain but it didn't pour blood? (Ron's idea). And if she took a look around her--when she wasn't too preoccupied with finding out she was to live at Malfoy Manor, that is--she would have found that the room was well lit, giving off a cozy feeling, and smelling faintly of cinnamon. And after two weeks of living there, she had yet to come across a room that agreed with her and Ron's theories of how Malfoy Manor looked. Her own room, for example, reminded her of the Gryffindor common room, something she thought would have been forbidden in the manor. The drawing room, where she spent time playing a white piano, had walls of baby blue and a large bay window where sunlight poured in. At nights, since she was forbidden to go outside on her own, she would lie on the floor of the ball room and stare up at the stars in the ceiling, picking out her favorite constellations. Flipsy pointed out to her that the Draco constellation was the brightest amongst them all, something Narcissa did herself. The colorful rooms made her stay easier that she would have expected. When she would sit by the fire with a book in her lap, she was often reminded of nights in the Burrow with her family gathered by the fireplace and spending time together. Ginny soon discovered why Malfoy Manor smelt of cinnamon--every morning Flipsy baked cinnamon bread, a favorite of Draco's, and a spice that was a favorite of Mrs. Weasley. Draco also had a vast collection of Quidditch gear, from the latest broomstick to the finest gloves, something that not only made her jealous, but would have made all of her brothers, maybe even Percy, speechless. She had been spending a lot of her time in the hidden garden--not because she knew Draco wanted her out of the library, but because it reminded her of the garden in the backyard of the Burrow. She would sit herself beside the willow tree, remembering how when they were young, she and her brothers would swing from the branches of an old willow. Though the sunlight was fake in the room, being in it made her feel like she was outside, something that put a faint smile on her face. Something that had also made her time easier at the manor was the absence of Draco. Since their time in Knockturn Alley, she had plenty of time to think in privacy about what had happened between the two of them. One thing she had noticed after he controlled himself in the alley was that instead of starting another endless fight with her he was no where to be seen. After they returned from Knockturn Alley, he muttered something about her having permission to be alone, and then took off upstairs. Over the next week, she had seen no sign of him, not even at dinner thought she still attended meals in the dining room. She had asked Flipsy if he had gone back to work, though he said he took off time, but the house-elf would neither answer nor acknowledge that she was asking that question. She had decided that he must have been in his study, and had wanted to take the secret passageway to his study--something she had not returned to yet--but knew better then to use it if Draco was home indeed. She didn't know why she was so keen on knowing if he was home or not--curiosity was the only answer she could come up with, and that she would be able to breathe easier if she knew she had the manor to herself. It was beginning to take a toll on her during meal time--she would always feel an anxious tug in her stomach when she would approach the dining room, expecting to see Draco, but it was always empty. The time apart from him did leave her thinking of their past week together. Just two weeks of wearing rich clothing and eating filling food made her want to be thankful of her new life, but the timing and place was all wrong. Yes, as stubborn as she was, she was able to recognize that this life was better than the one she lived the past month, and she could have been worse off, or possibly dead. But she couldn't allow herself to take enjoyment in it without feeling tremendous guilt. How could she enjoy her life when all of the people she loved were dead, and she was only able to live this life because of someone who took part in killing them? Every time she woke up in her comfortable bed feeling well rested and with a smile on her face, it was the thought that knowing those she loved were asleep forever and would never wake up like she did that sent her back to feeling miserable. It had, after all, been only a bit over a month since her family had passed. Only one month since they left her and she was captured. And when she felt she couldn't possibly live any longer, more were taken from her. Though the war had been going on for several months and people she had known had died since the beginning it, she didn't truly discover what death was until the past month. How was she supposed to cope with it when she was placed in the house of the enemy, of someone who gloated over such things? But time apart from the enemy made her focus more on him. Draco was, after all, still the enemy, but a confusing one. She noticed he showed his true colors when she stood up to him, when he had been drinking, or when she'd mentioned Harry's name--something that was obvious to her, yet she couldn't help it. One part of her couldn't let go of Harry yet, even for the sake of a calm Draco, and the other part enjoyed egging him on, torturing him with the memory of the one person he hated most. She would have thought that with Harry's death Draco would have merely laughed at his name, but to still show anger and spite…that was something she couldn't figure out. But it was when Draco was almost pleasant that truly confused her. Like when he healed her hand, or showed her the garden. Though she suspected him of doing so to keep her away from the library, he could have just banned her from there instead of showing her a place that put her at ease with its beauty. Or in Knockturn Alley, when he saved her from the old wizard who tried to capture her. She still remembered his arm around her, protecting her, cursing the old man for taking what he claimed was his. Protecting his prize. His prize for doing what--the thought had slipped her mind. She had thought it was for finding Harry, but she knew the chance of that to be impossible. When the war had taken a turn for the worse, Ginny herself had encouraged Harry to go into hiding to gather his strength for the final battle. What good would it be if their hero was killed before then? It was shortly before her family's death, and after she learned of Harry's death while in her cell; she had suspected Harry of coming out of hiding to avenge the Weasley's death and of failing. But for Draco to actually find Harry? Impossible. Only she, Hermione, and the Weasley's knew of where he was, and none of them could even be tortured into giving out the location. Another memory that kept her on edge was that of Draco telling her why in fact she was his prize. Not for why he won her, but what he was to do with her. That he was to give her a constant reminder of what pain and misery was; that she hadn't felt it enough and it was his job to show her. Except, two weeks there, and the worst she had gone through were fights with him that ended with threats and broken glasses. But she was never harmed. What Draco Malfoy was planning to do with her, she had no idea, and the realization of that terrified her the most. She found Flipsy one morning in the kitchen, rummaging through a cabinet with speed. The house-elf kept on muttering, “Oh dear, oh dear,” while she picked up bottles, read the labels, and put them back. “What's wrong, Flipsy?” Ginny asked, taking a seat at an island in the middle of the room. “Oh, dear,” Flipsy continued. “Oh dear, Miss, Flipsy is in trouble. Flipsy can not find the right potion and if she can't…” The house-elf shuddered. Ginny frowned. One thing she and her brother were correct about was Draco's treatment towards his house-elves. “I thought I ordered you not to hurt yourself anymore.” “It's not me Flipsy is worried about, Miss,” Flipsy said, turning around to face her. “If Flipsy can not find the right potion, Master Malfoy will not be feeling better and then what would Flipsy do?” Ginny straightened up. “Malfoy's sick?” Flipsy nodded, tears gathering in her eyes. “Master has taken to being in bed for the past few days and is not feeling better. Flipsy has been delivering him his meals but he eats little and doesn't have the strength to get out of bed.” That explained why she hadn't seen him, not even at meals. “What is he sick with?” And why, then, was she feeling fine? Surely if something was going around, she would be feeling partially ill. Flipsy shook her head. “Master says he got it from work, says the prisoners are dying from it, Miss.” Ginny stood up in shock. The prisoners were dying from it? But, she was a prisoner herself only two weeks ago… Ginny grabbed onto the island, feeling faint. “Bring me to him, Flipsy.” Flipsy's eyes widened. “But Master said you're not allowed in his room-” “Do you want him to get better or not?” she asked patiently, though her heart was racing. Days--it had been a matter of days that she was at the prison, living in her cell with little clothing and food. Days from when she was shipped off to Malfoy Manor to live in comfort while those she lived around were dying from some kind of disease. And now the one who saved her from it had it too. Flipsy was silent for a moment before she ran over to Ginny and grabbed the bottom of her robe. “This way, Miss,” she said, leading her out of the room and up the stairs. They turned into the corridor where Ginny lived, and approaching her room Ginny went to pass it when Flipsy stopped. “He's here, Miss.” Ginny looked at the door right across from her own. “Malfoy's room has been across mine this whole time?” she asked with surprise. She had been so busy with exploring the manor of the bottom floor that she hadn't even thought to check the rooms around her own bedroom. Flipsy nodded before opening the door. She pressed a finger to her lips before she quietly stepped into the room. Once entering, Ginny shut the door, and found herself in a room with all of its shades drawn. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. “Miss,” Flipsy whispered, her voice ahead of her. Ginny edged forward, her eyes getting used to the surroundings with every step she took. Soon, she found Flipsy standing next to a large bed with its curtains drawn around it. Flipsy lit a candle on a bed stand and then drew the curtain to the side and tied it down, showing Ginny a glimpse of Draco sleeping. His face was paler than usual, with sweat drops across his forehead, plastering his fine light hair to it. His eyes seemed shrunken; his cheekbones pointier. His pajamas were stuck to his body in wetness, and it looked like he had kicked off his sheets. Ginny, very slowly, reached out her hand and pressed it to his forehead, finding it hot. Draco let out a small groan at her touch and turned his head towards her. Ginny frowned. “Can you get something for his fever, Flipsy?” “That's what Flipsy was looking for, Miss. Flipsy will go look harder,” she said before she ran out of the room. Ginny grabbed the candle and used it to edge herself around the bed and across the room, finding the bathroom and taking a wash cloth and wetting it with cold water. Coming back to Draco's bed, she couldn't help but laugh at herself--if only her brothers knew what she was doing. She brushed Draco's hair back with her fingers and pressed the wash cloth against his forehead. His body seemed to relax under it. Sighing with content, Ginny took a look at his wet shirt and frowned. Now that wouldn't do. After opening a door next to the bathroom, she found his wardrobe and grabbed another silk pajama shirt. Holding it in her hands, she sat in a chair next to Draco's bed, waiting for Flipsy to come back so she could change him. Ginny fidgeted with the shirt as she waited for Flipsy, but she didn't show up. Ginny leaned back in the chair, keeping an eye on Draco through the opening of the curtains. He was fidgeting again, his hands moving to his shirt in his sleep. Ginny shook her head. There was no way she was going to change him. It was enough that she came to look at him, and even more so that she put a damp wash cloth on his forehead, but to see him shirtless? That was pushing it. The only time she had seen a man shirtless was her brothers when they went swimming in the pond by their house, and she doubted that counted. “Come on, Flipsy,” Ginny muttered. Draco moved again in his sleep, this time the wash cloth fell off. “Oh, bugger,” Ginny said as she got up, tempted to throw the shirt in spite of everything. “You owe me big time, Malfoy.” Though, she felt knowing he was the one suffering and she wasn't, he may not owe her anything. She went to work on the buttons, sliding each one through before she opened the shirt to show his chest. Her face grew hot. What if he woke up right now and found her undressing him? How would he react then, besides maybe throw a glass or two at her? Staring at the blankets instead of him, Ginny lifted Draco up so she could take the shirt off. “You know,” she grunted under his weight, “this would be a lot easier if you gave me a wand.” Tossing the wet shirt to the side, Ginny went to put on the fresh one when she froze, staring at his left arm. The Dark Mark gleamed at her, taunting her with its black ink and hateful stare. Ginny's hands shook. It was that same mark she found over her family's home, not expecting what she was going to find inside. It was people like him that killed her family. Maybe it was him. She almost ran, wanting Flipsy to finish what she started, but she bit her lip and tore her eyes away from the mark. Once she put the shirt on, she pulled up the covers and rewet the wash cloth. By the time she sat back down in the chair, Flipsy came running in with a bottle in hand. “Flipsy found it, Miss!” she exclaimed, handing her the bottle. “And Flipsy has also called the doctor. He'll be over shortly.” Ginny thanked the house-elf and asked her to watch for the doctor. Once Flipsy left, Ginny went back to Draco's bedside and lifted him up on his pillows to give him the potion. Once it went down and his face was cooler, Ginny found herself standing there, staring at him. He looked younger when he slept. He was, after all, only twenty-one, but the war didn't know age. It made people grow up faster then they were ready for. Here Draco was, twenty-one, a Death Eater, and the last Malfoy alive, owning the huge manor and whatever else his parents left him. He lived a life beyond his years, and already dealing with his personality, he knew it too. Ginny wrapped her arms around herself. And it was to him she should be grateful to for getting her out of the prison when he did. Here, with a doctor at hand and potions, she knew he would survive. But her--no, if he did not bring her to the manor, she would have died with the rest of the prisoners. There was a knock at the door and the doctor entered. Once she knew Draco was in good hands, Ginny left the two together and retreated downstairs for a much needed cup of tea. ~*~ The doctor left when Ginny was in the middle of her tea, telling her that Draco would be just fine as long as he took a potion every four hours. “Nasty virus going around,” he said as he gave her a slip of instructions on how to make the potion. “I'm quite surprised you're healthy, though. It's very contagious, but only in the beginning stages. Good thing your husband had the sense to not get you sick as well.” He left her stuttering in response with a red face. When Flipsy came in to collect her tea cup, Ginny handed her the potion slip. “Just make sure to give it to him every four hours,” she said standing up. Flipsy's face fell. “But, Miss,” she said, “House-elves are forbidden to make potions here. Flipsy's great grandmother was once ordered by the miss of the house to add poison to a Pepper-Up potion. Master survived, but oh, great grandmother did not.” Ginny sighed. If it wasn't enough that she had helped Draco change shirts earlier, now she was responsible for his health completely. But what if she refused to make it? Who would stop her--Flipsy? Draco himself was too sick to have any control in the matter. After all the times of Draco stating that her life was in his hands, it was now the other way around. And she had the power to do with it as she pleased. Flipsy led her to a room behind the kitchen with a cauldron and cabinet of ingredients. Ginny gathered what she needed and when she was about to close the door, her eyes fell on a particular ingredient that, from what Professor Snape had taught her in Potions class, would prove to be deadly if too much of it was added. She grasped the container and looked over at the cauldron. Draco Malfoy's life was in her hands, and she had the chance to change it all. ~*~ Ginny balanced a tray in her hands as she pressed her back against the bedroom door, opening it up more. Flipsy had given her the tray of food, asking her if she could please give it to Draco since she was on her way up to give him the potion. Ginny had almost dropped it twice out of nerves on her way up the stairs. Her hands shook the whole time she made the potion, and for her eyeing the deadly ingredient on the table between every step, it took her longer than she thought to make the potion. She had killed a person before. It was during the only fight she had contributed to--the one where she saw Draco Malfoy die, though only now did she know it was Blaise Zabini. She wasn't supposed to be there. Her family, and the Order of the Phoneix, had made it clear that a young woman of twenty wasn't allowed to fight, that her skills in healing were more valuable to them than her knowledge of curses. Though, as she pointed out many times in anger, Hermione was much better at healing and was only a year older, she was allowed to be on the side of Ron and Harry in fights. After she got the chance, she had stopped complaining about such a thing. The day leading up to the fight was a blur. She and Harry had gone to Muggle London to do some shopping. They thought it would be safe--up to that point, all the fighting in the war had been kept in the wizard world. It's not to say that Voldemort hadn't tried to include the Muggles to heighten up their death toll, but the Order had managed thus far to keep them out of it. She and Harry were window shopping, strolling down the street while holding hands. They had stopped in front of a jewelry store for Ginny to look at a silver heart shaped locket--her mother had one just like it, and she was marveling at the similarities. She was busy staring at it, taking it in, when something caught her eye in the reflection of the window. Her breath caught in her throat; she squeezed Harry's hand until he looked up as well. There, standing behind them, was Draco Malfoy. Harry whirled around with his wand in his hand and shoved Ginny between his back and the window. Ginny remembered her heart racing at the sight of the blonde hair man. After his murder of Remus Lupin, the Order had been frantic to catch Draco Malfoy, dead or alive. And here he was, in Muggle London, with two other Death Eaters behind him. “Potter, Potter, Potter,” he said with a smirk. “There's a war going on and you still have time to shop?” He cocked his head to the side and looked at Ginny. “And with your girlfriend too. Isn't that sweet?” “You leave Ginny out of this,” Harry spat, gritting his teeth. “This is just between you and me, Malfoy. I know we've both been waiting for this opportunity for a long time.” And he smiled, or Ginny thought that would be how a smile looked on Draco Malfoy's face. “You have no idea, Potter,” he said before pointing his wand and yelling a curse. Harry grabbed Ginny and pushed them to the ground. The curse went over them and hit the window from behind, shattering it and pouring glass onto her. She remembered screaming--she didn't know if it was coming out of her mouth or from the people around her. Harry had yelled at her to stay there before he got up on his feet and fired back at the Slytherin. Ginny did just the opposite of what Harry asked. She jumped to her feet and drew out her wand just in time to find a Death Eater approaching her. “Stupefy!” she yelled, pointing her wand at him. He blocked it with ease and let out a loud laugh. “Come on little girl,” he said, showing her yellow teeth. “You better put up more of a fight. You don't know what guys like me do to pretty little things like you.” Ginny clutched her wand as her stomach flipped. She took a step back, her feet crunching the glass on the ground. She was waiting for the man to fire a curse at her, but he was merely laughing at her, playing with her. “Petrificus Totalus!” she yelled. The Death Eater's laughter rang in her ears as he blocked it again. “Aren't you even going to try to kill me?” Bile formed in her mouth. She had cursed people before, had hurt them, but had never killed a man. And after people started dropping like flies around her, she refused to partake in such an act. She took another step back as the man approached her, slipping on a piece of glass and falling backwards on the ground. The man stood over her, laughing at her. Ginny looked over to Harry for help, but he was busy with Draco Malfoy. The other Death Eater lay motionless next to him. “Come on,” the man said with a snarl, putting his hands up in the air. “One free shot for the pretty lady.” She couldn't do it. Ginny pointed her wand at him with a shaking hand. She was just supposed to be shopping with Harry. It was their first date in Merlin knows how long. How could she finish it with using a Killing Curse? She looked overhead the man and saw a flowering pot on the edge of a patio two stories above the jewelry shop. “Wingardium Leviosa!” The man looked up just as the pot was lifted off the patio and dropped three stories down, smashing onto his head with a sickening crunch. Ginny watched with wide eyes as he crumbled over and lay on the sidewalk, motionless, blood pouring from his head. She stared at him, for how long she didn't know, before she pushed herself from off the ground, her fingers digging into the glass and making her bleed. She took small steps, approaching the body, waiting for him to stir and sit back up and attack her. But he didn't move. She heard Harry yelling curses, but couldn't look away from the still form. She kicked the side of the body with her foot, but he didn't move. Her eyes followed a trail of blood flowing from his head down to the drain in the street, collecting with the shards of glass on the ground. She had killed him. After everything she tried to do to prevent such an act, she had killed him after all. Her stomach flipped dangerously and her body felt light. She looked up just in time to see Draco Malfoy fall to the ground, just as this man did, and the sight of it made everything go black. And here she was, in the room of a man she saw die once, where she had killed once. And both things were going to happen again. Ginny saw Draco stir in his bed--all the curtains were tied up. She stepped into his room and closed the door behind her, shutting out the light despite the candle on the bed stand. “Who's there?” he muttered, his voice rough. Ginny kept quiet as she placed the tray on a desk next to the draped window. Her back was to him as she took the potion off the tray of food. “It's me,” she whispered. She heard him shuffle in the bed. “Weasley?” he asked. “What are you doing in here?” Ginny paused. Talking to a man she was about to kill was much harder than she thought it would be. “I'm here to give you your potion,” she said. “Flipsy said I had to do it.” She reached into her pocket with a trembling hand and grabbed the secret ingredient, staring at it in the dim light. She hadn't added it to the potion yet. She couldn't bring herself to do it right away--something was keeping her from doing it right away. She needed to know something first. She slowly unscrewed the lid of the ingredient. “I have a question, Malfoy,” she said in a quiet voice. She grabbed the potion. “Was the reason why you stayed away from me this past week was to not get me sick?” Silence answered her--there wasn't even a noise of him moving in his sheets. For a moment she had thought he went back to sleep. In one hand she gripped the potion; in the other, the ingredient, waiting for his words before she combined the two. “Yes,” he said, his voice a faint of a whisper. Ginny let out a breath she was holding and dropped the ingredient, pushing it far away from the potion with a shaking hand. How? How could she kill a man who continued to do things that ended with her being safe? Ginny turned away from the desk and approached the bed. “Here,” she said, lifting him up against his pillows so he was sitting. “Drink this--it will make you feel better.” Draco took the potion without looking her in the eyes. He sniffed it. “You didn't poison it, did you?” She gave out a shaky laughter. “Not this time, Malfoy.” She watched as he took it, gulping it down, grimacing at the taste. His complexion slowly turned back to normal before her eyes. “Did it work?” Draco sighed as he closed his eyes. “If you mean am I going to live, then yes.” He opened an eye to look at her. “I guess I should thank you.” No, she thought as she gave him his tray of food. She should be the one thanking him. ~*~ She was running through the forest, her robe ripping on tree branches. It was night and the air was crisp; an owl hooted from a tree above. Ginny felt the need to rush to her destination--she was going to be late. Someone was going to notice she wasn't there. Worry filled her body, distracting her and causing her to trip over a rock, sending her flying to the ground. Ginny groaned as she picked herself up, dusting off the dirt and grass stains on her robe, and noticed a rip in her clothes. Swearing, she sat on a boulder and pulled out her wand, hoping to mend the tear. Her wand hand paused in the middle of fixing the tear--something caught her eye. She glanced down at the boulder she sat on at childish handwriting scribbled on top of the gray stone. It said, “Ron and Ginny were here.” Ginny's heart quickened and looked around her. She was in the woods behind the Burrow. She was home. She stood up and shoved her wand in her pocket, no longer caring about the rip, and took off for the straight path to her house. Her heart thumped alongside with her footsteps over the tall grass--her family, how she missed them. Thoughts were running in her head--she could finally see them again. She would find her mother cooking in the kitchen and her father reading the Daily Prophet. Fred and George would be pulling some prank on Percy, and Charlie and Bill would be playing a game of chess. Ron would be writing a letter to Hermione, something that had become a hobby of his. A smile widened on her face and she let out a laugh of joy. She was finally home. She ran up a hill, the last thing that stood in the way of her home, when she saw something green in the sky above where her house was positioned. Her footsteps halted and she almost fell backwards in shock. It was the Dark Mark. It took her a moment to move her stiff legs. “Mum!” she yelled as she ran up the rest of the hill, almost tripping on her robe. “Dad!” She reached the top of the hill and stopped to let out a scream. The roof of the Burrow was on fire. She ran down the hill in a split second, her wand out and ready. She crossed the yard, the chickens frantic and running everywhere, and tripped on a rusty cauldron. She picked herself up and barged through the door, screaming her family's names. There was no response. Ginny coughed through the air; smoke covered the kitchen. “Mum!” she choked as she blindly walked through the room, knocking in to the table. “Ron! Anyone!” She took out her wand and sent a gust of wind out of it, pushing away the smoke in front of her and creating a clear path. Being able to breathe better, she took her hand away from her mouth and went to the living room, where she let out an ear splitting scream. Her family, all eight of them, were sprawled out on the floor, not moving. Ginny dropped her wand in shock and ran over to Molly, the closest one to her. “Mum!” she yelled, dropping to her knees and shaking her mother's shoulders. “Mum, wake up!” But her mother laid there, her eyes open and unmoving. Tears fell down Ginny's cheeks as she let go of her mother and crawled over to Ron, who was in between her mother and Bill. “Ron!” she now sobbed, unable to control her cries. “Ron, this isn't funny!” She clutched onto his shirt and shook him, making his head roll over to the side. “Get up, dammit! I'm sorry that I left earlier; I know you didn't want me to leave. I'm sorry so stop messing around!” A crack sounded from the floor above; the room grew hotter and more smoke piled through. Ginny let out a cough, searching for her wand to clear away the smoke. Crawling over her brother and mother's dead bodies, sobbing, she found it and cast another gust of wind in the room. Fire collected on the stairs at the end of the room, closest to where her father lay. She crawled over her other brothers' bodies, trying to reach her dad. “Daddy,” she murmured, “get out of here--there's a fire.” She felt drained by the time she reached her father's body, so tired that she rested her head on her father's shirt. “Wake up,” she whispered, coughing on the smoky air. She closed her eyes, her last ounce of strength leaving her, though even if she could stand, she no longer wanted to leave. She didn't want to leave her family--she had to stay with her family. She felt a pair of hands pick her up off her dead father. “No,” Ginny groaned. “Leave me.” But the person cradled Ginny into them and led her out of the house of fire, out of the smoke and into fresh air. Ginny took a deep breath and let out a hoarse cough--she could finally breathe again. Her eyes blinked, and she opened her eyes to see who had saved her. A pair of red eyes stared right back at her. Ginny awoke in her bed screaming until her throat turned raw. Sweat covered her body--her hair was wet from it. She kicked at her blankets and turned her body to get out of her bed; her legs got caught in the sheets and sent her tumbling over the side of the bed. “Let me go!” she sobbed, trying to free herself from the tangled mess. She clutched her eyes shut. She didn't want to see the red eyes again. They were just as Harry described. They pierced through you and turned you cold, leaving you feeling weak and helpless. They only brought death, and made you want to die yourself because it would be an easier way out. Because if you saw those red eyes, death would be coming shortly anyways. She heard her door burst open. “Weasley?” Hands touched her shoulders, making her scream and hide her head under her arms. “Don't touch me!” she cried, tears pouring down her cheeks. “You already took my family--you can't have me!” The hands shook her. “Weasley, it's me! Draco!” Ginny took a gasping breath at the name. Draco…a Death Eater. Draco…the man who won her as a prize. Draco…the one who saved her from death. She opened her eyes and slowly looked up. His gray eyes--not red ones--were wide and looking down at her. “What happened?” Ginny opened her mouth to speak, but found she couldn't. She shook her head instead, and held herself. She was trembling. Draco frowned at her before he bent down and scooped his arms under her, lifting her up. “This is the second time I'm putting you to bed, you know,” he said as he set her on her bed and picked up her blanket off the ground. “You better not make this a habit.” Ginny stared at him. She saw him talking, but couldn't make sense of the words. Her body felt numb, but she had at least stopped crying. Draco ran a hand through his hair as he continued to stare at her. He snapped his fingers and Flipsy appeared. “Get her a dreamless potion,” he said, still staring at Ginny. “No!” Ginny yelled before Flipsy could leave. Her eyes were wide. “No, I don't want to go back to sleep.” “It will be dreamless-” She shook her head. “Please don't make me,” she whispered. “Just not yet.” Draco sighed before he looked down at Flipsy. “You heard her,” he said. “Bring it in an hour.” When Flipsy disappeared Draco turned to leave as well. He was halfway across the room before Ginny jumped out of her bed and ran after him. “Don't leave me!” she said, grabbing onto his arm and stopping him. She stared at her hand--she had grabbed his left forearm, where the Dark Mark was. She let go and closed her eyes. That mark--that mark was above her home. “I-I'm sorry,” she said. Her eyes were still closed, but she knew Draco was staring at her. “I just can't be alone right now. The silence from him made her grimace. What was she doing telling a Malfoy such a thing? Wasn't it bad enough letting him see how vulnerable she was at the moment? And then she had to go and run after him, hold onto him like he was some answer to her problems, like he could actually help her. “Come on,” he said, grabbing onto her wrist and pulling her out the bedroom. He let go of her once she opened her eyes. They walked down the hallway together, Ginny with her arms wrapped around her, and Draco with his hands shoved into his pajama pockets. Ginny looked at him out of the corner of her eye, just now realizing he didn't have a shirt on. She averted her eyes to her feet, her face growing red. She told herself it wasn't anything she hadn't seen before. She did change him after all…only then he wasn't moving so she couldn't see just how his muscles seemed to move as he walked, and how he'd grown rather broader since his skinny days at Hogwarts. She snuck another look when he descended the stairs first. The war had left Harry thin--much thinner than Mrs. Weasley was happy about. He was always too busy to eat a proper meal; too anxious to crave food. But Draco…it had seemed that the criteria of being a Death Eater was to be in shape. She followed him down the hallway, walking at his side. This way she had less of a view of him--when she was trailing behind, her eyes only had his naked back to stare at. Ginny glanced down at herself. She had forgotten her robe, and was left in a long t-shirt that reached her knees, just like the ones she wore at Hogwarts for bed. Draco had led them into the room with the bar. Ginny paused when she saw him reach for the brandy. “I don't want to play drinking games again, Malfoy.” He took out one glass and poured a small amount in. “It's just for you,” he said. “It will help you…calm down a bit.” Ginny wanted to refuse, but she remembered times when her father would add a shot of Firewhiskey to her mother's tea when she was worrying everyone and the war. She walked up to him and took the glass. “Thanks,” she murmured, taking a sip and sitting down in an armchair. Draco walked over to the dead fireplace and bent down, taking some logs from the side. “Malfoy doing labor work?” Ginny asked, this time a faint smile on her face. “I'm not completely incompetent.” He kept his back to her but she knew he was glaring. A moment later a fire started and he took a seat across from her. “Now tell me,” he said, settling into his chair, “what happened?” Ginny turned her head away. “I just had a dream, all right?” “And dreams make you scream like a banshee?” She looked back at him. He wasn't smirking, like she thought he was. “Mine do,” she whispered. She paused and took another sip. “I saw them again.” “Who?” Ginny clutched her drink. She wanted to cry all over again. “My family,” she whispered. “I keep on seeing them…I keep on seeing their dead bodies all huddled up…the house on fire…their-their dead faces staring up at me…” Draco didn't say anything, but she wasn't expecting him to. What could he say to her in comfort when he hated her family? Ginny finished her drink and set it on the table. “But that isn't what made me scream.” She looked up into Draco's eyes. “It was those…those red eyes.” Draco stiffened, and she knew he felt the same fear when he looked into them. “The Dark Lord,” he said. Ginny nodded. “It was he who found me at the Burrow. He-he murdered my family.” “And you were supposed to be murdered as well,” said Draco. He scrunched his eyebrows. “Where were you that night?” “I-”. Where did she go? The whole night leading up to what was waiting for her was a blur. How could she remember such little details when she was faced with death? “I had to go to Diagon Alley. I remember it being last minute. Ron didn't want me to leave--he was worried there would be an attack there.” They sat and listened to the fire crackle. Ginny's heart rate had slowed down by now--she was able to be still and breathe once again. “What happened to your family,” said Draco, staring at his hands, “what happened was-” “Don't,” said Ginny. “Don't try to say it was horrible, because I know you don't think that.” But her heart felt lighter for the effort. Draco frowned. “I may have hated them,” he said, “but I still think it's low to attack a whole family during dinner. I hated them, but even I didn't see that coming.” He stood up before Ginny could respond. “You finished your drink--are you ready for bed?” Ginny nodded before she stood up and followed him out of the room. They were quiet until they were on the stairs. “Are you feeling better?” asked Ginny. “Should you even be out of bed?” “Two days of that disgusting potion is enough for me,” he said. Ginny eyed him--he did seem to be back in good health. “Plus, as much as I did love you being my nurse, if we don't go back to normal hell may just freeze over.” He was right. Since he had been sick, they hadn't had a proper fight in days. Every time she went to give him his potion, they exchanged few words, but all of them were pleasant. She bit her lip from laughing. “Watch yourself there, Weasley,” said Draco as he stopped in front of their rooms. “You might actually let yourself be happy if you're not careful enough.” Ginny stiffened. “I don't know what-” “Live, Weasley,” he said, his gray eyes gleaming. “You've been given a second chance at life. If you can't live it for yourself, live it for those who can't.” He turned his door knob and glanced at her before entering his room. “Good night.” Ginny stared at his door long after he closed it, running his words through her head. Live. Did she remember how? But to live for another…she thought of her family. That, she thought as she walked across the hall to her room, that might not be so hard after all. ~*~ Sorry for the slow update! But, chapter four is already written, and I've made a good dent in chapter five. Expect some D/G goodness in both. Thanks for reading and please review--it is my birthday today, after all!! Liz21 --> 4. Chapter Four --------------- Happy Valentine’s Day! This is my gift to all of my lovely reviewers! Thanks for everything! ~*~ It was raining when Ginny awoke the next morning. She lay in bed, listening to the patter of the rain against the windows, and tried to remember her dreams. She strained for a moment before she realized she hadn’t had any--Flipsy had left her a dreamless potion at Draco’s request the night before. That would explain why her heart wasn’t racing, or why her forehead wasn’t sweating. For the first time in a long time, she had a peaceful, full night of sleep, and it almost made her sigh with relief, when she stopped herself. Dreamless sleep meant she wouldn’t have her reoccurring thoughts of finding her dead family, of all those she loved who were gone or missing. And while she was saved from the panic attacks and the terror, she missed out on her one shot to see their faces again. She frowned. She had no photographs of her family; none of Harry. The only way she could remember them was in her memories, and those came out best in her sleep. Thunder boomed in the sky, but she didn’t flinch. Normally, storms would have terrified her. She was always afraid of them, even as a little girl, and would run to her brothers for comfort. But who was she supposed to go to now? She felt herself slipping back into an area she could only think of as dark. It was where she lived in the month of her imprisonment; it was where she went when someone died. She would escape inside herself, curl in a ball, and wait for everything to disappear. No light would shine; no sound would stir. Nothing could touch her, and she would feel nothing in return. There nothing could hurt her--how could she feel pain if she couldn’t feel at all? It was what she resorted to when she couldn’t fight anymore, when she couldn’t take the screaming and the dying. It had made her weak, though, body and spirit. She closed her eyes to fall back asleep, so she could just sleep the day away, when Draco’s last words to her echoed in her head. *“You’ve been given a second chance at life. If you can’t live it, live it for those who can’t.”* She opened her eyes. Live. What was living, after all? Was it as simple as getting out of bed and making it through the day? Hadn’t she been doing that already? A dull anger rose in her at Draco for him to tell her, of all people, how to live. How could he say that to the only survivor of the Order? To the last living Weasley? If there was one thing she had accomplished this war, it was living through it. All he had managed to do was take that from others. But…her anger had left as soon as she felt it. Her words, her thoughts, didn’t make her feel as if she finalized the matter of living. She raised her hands above her head and stared at the pale skin. She never could tan properly, but the white she saw in front of her looked like death. The freckles stood out so sharply that it looked as if someone had taken a permanent marker and made several marks. And she knew if she stood before a mirror, she would see her gaunt cheekbones and her emotionless eyes. She would see a Ginny that had transformed from the effects of war, not the person she wanted to be, wanted to remain. But it wasn’t her health that concerned her the most. She knew that another month of eating meals in Malfoy Manor would bring her back to her normal, healthy weight. And maybe if she spent enough time in the garden, her skin would glow from the artificial sunlight. Her physical health she could repair, but what of her mental health? Was that even possible to fix after everything that had happened? She squeezed her hands into fists. She knew what she would have to do. She did it after her first year after the diary incident. Ginny sat up and swung her legs over the bed. It was so easy to just give up on everything, to not fight, but Harry had once told her that what was easy wasn’t always right. That if she wanted something badly enough, she had to put all of her energy into getting it. If she wanted to live and get past everything that has happened, she would have to do a lot of accepting. Accepting what has happened, and even though she wishes it hadn’t, she would have to let it go. She had to stop agonizing over her family’s death, over her dead friends, and see how holding onto it was pulling her down. After the diary of Tom Riddle was destroyed, she had spent the first half of the summer in despair. All she could think of was how she could do such a thing. How could she be stupid enough to write in that diary? She had almost killed people; she could have been expelled. She had become obsessed of the what-ifs, and the almosts, and had nearly lost it if it wasn’t for Charlie who told her that until she let go of the past, she wouldn’t be able to live in the present, and would never have a future. She walked into the bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror, gripping the sink. She wanted her old life back, but she would never have it. But maybe, if she tried hard enough, she could get her own self back, and that may just be enough. Maybe, she thought as she ran the bath, maybe one day she would be laughing again and mean it. She would smile and think warmly of those she loved, of the times they shared. She would live her life for them, because through it all that’s all she had left to give to them. Draco had been right after all, she realized. The thought of that made her laugh, the noise echoing off the walls and into her heart. ~*~ Ginny felt as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. The bath had relaxed her greatly, and by the time she was done and changed, her heart felt light. Even the weather couldn’t ruin her mood--she had taken a step in recognizing what she needed to do about herself, and she knew her family would be proud. She bounced down the stairs and headed for the dining room; she was determined to eat until she looked healthy again. She remembered all the times that Harry would visit them after a stay at the Dursleys, and how her mother would feed him until he couldn’t take another bite. She felt a sudden pain at the memory, but quickly pushed it away and focused her attention on other matters--like Draco Malfoy. She almost gave him a smile when she entered the room, but stopped herself halfway through it. Now that was going too far, she told herself. However happy she may feel at the moment, even after what he said to her, she didn’t have to go as far as actually being nice to him. Draco raised his eyebrows at her and watched her as she sat down. He continued to stare as she filled her plate full of a variety of breakfast food. She didn’t look up until she was cutting up her pancakes. “Yes?” she asked him, finding humor in his dazed look. Draco blinked and lowered his eyebrows. “Nothing,” he said, going back to his breakfast. “You just seem…different. I trust that sleepless potion helped? Would you like it again for tonight?” Ginny munched on her food in thought. To never have those dreams again were incredibly tempting. Every morning she could wake up with a smile, and not be forced to remember the past. But…a part of her knew she shouldn’t forget what happened. Just accept it and move on. That maybe, in time, the dreams will cease and she can move on with her life. “No,” she said. “I think I can handle it for now on.” Draco nodded, and then they were silent as they finished their meal. While she ate, Ginny stole glimpses of him, studying his profile. He had changed much since his days in Hogwarts, and not just physically. He seemed to have matured, and was no longer interested in being a little bully. She tried to recall the memories of him at school, and how cruel he was then, and then compared him to how he treated her now. The war must have changed him, she decided, that or something big. The war had changed them all, some for the worse, and in Draco’s case, almost for the better. Draco looked up and caught her staring. A blush crept over her face and she quickly looked down at her plate. Great, she thought. Now only Merlin knows what was going on through his mind at her staring at him. She continued to stare down, and when she felt she could no longer avoid his continuous stare, a pop sounded in the dining room. Ginny looked up to see Flipsy hand Draco a white envelope. “This was just delivered, Sir,” the house-elf said before disappearing again. Draco looked at the envelope and let out a groan of agitation. “It’s Pansy’s hand writing,” he said. “That bloody cow won’t leave me alone.” Ginny couldn’t help but glare at the thought of Pansy. “What does she want?” Draco glanced at her before he busied himself with opening up the envelope. He pulled out a green card with silver writing on it. He let out another groan, this one louder. Ginny almost giggled at his performance. “I hate her, I truly do,” he said. He waved the card at Ginny. “It’s another one of her damn balls. Merlin knows I hate them.” But Ginny couldn’t help but raise her eyes in interest. A real ball? She had wondered if they still went on. She had never been one to herself, only the dances at school. Balls were associated with the wealthy, but that didn’t stop her from imagining what they were like. As a girl, she pictured going to one in a huge dress, and there would be champagne and dancing. And then some mysterious man would swift her off her feet, and they would dance until the night was over. Draco tossed the card onto the table. “At least it’s a masquerade ball,” he said. “I can’t imagine what would happen if you didn’t have a mask to hide behind.” Ginny nodded but then stopped. “Wait--what?” “Well, you’re coming of course,” he said, as if that settled the matter. “It says to bring a date, and where I don’t think you as much of one, you remember what I said before I fell ill? You are to be with me at all times.” Ginny’s face fell in horror. She had forgotten that stupid rule. “Malfoy, you can’t honestly expect me to go to that ball!” she said. “It will be full of Death Eaters! I thought you wanted me to keep a low profile in public!” “We’ll just charm your hair a different color,” he said as he got up from his seat, “and no one will know who you are.” Ginny watched him walk out of the room before she scrambled after him. “And what if I refuse to go?” she said, catching up to him. “Wouldn’t you rather go with some tramp instead who you’ll actually have a pleasant time with?” Draco stopped and turned to face her. “Those kind of women bore me. Sure, they look amazing, but their heads are full of air. And plus they have this annoying habit of calling me Drakie.” Ginny glared at him, finding no humor in what he said. “I won’t go.” “You don’t have a choice,” he said. “And please, convince me that you never once wanted to go to a ball. I’m sure it was every poor girl’s dreams for such an opportunity. Once we find you the proper dress you’ll be beside yourself in giggles.” “I-” she stopped. He was right on the fantasizing about going to a ball, but damn if she would be giggling. “I won’t have any fun though.” “And neither will I,” he said. “It isn’t about having fun, Weasley. It’s about keeping up appearances and pretending you like everyone when you’re really wishing you could just curse them to hell.” He stopped and then gave her a twisted smile. “And if I have to be miserable, then I’m bringing you down with me.” Ginny glared at him. Ron told her of when Draco was being sorted at Hogwarts, that the Sorting Hat barely touched his head before it declared him a Slytherin. She could see why. “When is it?” “Not for another week. That leaves plenty of time for you to mope.” Ginny’s cheeks reddened. He was ruining her perfectly good mood. He seemed to have notice it, too, because his smile widened. “Problem, Weasley?” She wanted to say yes, it was him; it was always him. When earlier she thought he matured, he was beginning to prove her wrong by his silly antics to make her miserable. She opened her mouth to fight back, when she stopped. Draco was looking at her expectantly--he wanted her to yell and argue. As far as she knew, he probably got off on her temper. Ginny closed her mouth and gave him a fake smile. That was one thing she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of. “No, Malfoy,” she said, startling him enough where he dropped his smile. “Can I go to the drawing room?” How she hated she had to ask his permission of all things. Draco was silent for a moment, judging her response. “No,” he said. “Not right now, at least. We need to go to Knockturn Alley. I have my package to pick up.” Narcissa’s package. Ginny had completely forgotten about that. That, and her promise to her to have Draco visit her portrait, but how she would go about that, she had no idea. The one time she brought up his dead mother, he was closed off on the subject, and the last thing she wanted to do was play with his temper. So, she simply nodded, and told him she would go get ready. When she walked up the stairs, conscious of Draco watching her go, she thought to take a leaf out of his book, and use his cunning ways to get him to go visit that portrait. ~*~ Ginny tried to avoid the puddles in Knockturn Alley, but it was no use. The rain had grown heavier and the alley was now covered in rainwater. Her robe was quite soaked, along with her shoes, but under her hood she managed to keep dry. One advantage to the rain was that it cleared out the alley--no one was crazy enough to go shopping, besides Draco at least. And because of them being the only ones there, he didn’t have to hold her hand like last time. She suddenly loved the rain for that very reason. “Will you stop stomping in the puddles?” Draco snapped. “You’re getting me all wet.” Ginny glanced at him, but his hood covered his face. She decided it was pointless to point out that he was already wet, and that she wasn’t stomping. Instead, she stuck her tongue out at him, and made sure the next big puddle they came across she would stomp in. When they entered the store, she knew to keep her hood up and to be quiet. She was quite willing to agree--maybe if she behaved, she could have a glimpse at what Draco was picking up. She imagined Narcissa had owned lots of items--why was Draco interested enough in this one item to have it checked for curses? “Good afternoon, Mr. Malfoy,” said the old woman. She glanced at Ginny again. Apparently she was just as curious as who she was. “Here is your package. I checked for curses, but I found none.” Draco frowned. “That’s a surprise,” he said, grasping the box in his hand. “You sure there’s nothing hidden in it?” The woman nodded. She glanced at Ginny. “It would be quite safe for someone to wear it, if that’s what you’re asking.” Draco glared. “I didn’t say anything of the sort.” He tossed a coin purse onto the counter and put his hood back on. “Good day, Mrs. Addison.” He walked past Ginny to leave, but she stayed put, her eyes in contact with Mrs. Addison. A shiver passed through her as the old woman stared at her with a knowing look. “Come on, Weasley,” Draco barked. Ginny jumped and hastily followed after him. Once they were outside the shop, did Ginny have the courage to ask him what she wanted to all along. “Malfoy, can I-” “No,” he barked. Ginny glared. Judging his mood since they left Malfoy Manor, it was apparent that he didn’t enjoy getting wet. Something to do with messing up his hair, perhaps. “Fine,” she said. “Then I won’t shut up until I can see what’s in that box.” Draco hesitated slightly, but then continued with his pace. “If you think you can use that little trick on me-” “And I’ll only talk about Harry,” Ginny added. “We all know how much you fancied him.” Draco stopped and turned on her, his face in a glare. “Then I’ll make you drink every time you mention his blasted name.” “Oh, getting me drunk will only loosen my tongue,” Ginny said. “That’s when all the gushy details come out, like of what kind of kisser he was, and how far we really went-” She stopped when she noticed Draco’s face growing red with anger. She knew she had him now, but watching his anger rise, she wasn’t certain she wanted him in this place at all. Ginny took a step back from him, and felt a brick wall dig into her back. She had unleashed something, and now she was trapped. “Malfoy, I was just kidding-” Draco shoved the box in front of her face, silencing her. “Why do you want to see this so bad?” he asked. “Is it just your stupid curiosity, or do you think it will be some little clue to help you with your great Gryffindor escapade of helping my dead mother out**. [?]**” Ginny stared at the box, her eyes wide. She felt it was a bit of both, really, but more the curiosity. Since she was young, she had been cursed with a cat’s curiosity and always managed to get herself into some sort of situation. At five she had been curious on how traveling by Floo Powder would feel, being too young to have gone through it yet. An hour later a friend of the family had found her wandering Diagon Alley, crying for her mother. The worst was when she had been so curious over a talking diary, and went against her better judgment and decided to continue to write in it, to see what would happen next. “I-I was just curious, Malfoy,” Ginny said. She found it hard to look into his eyes. “That’s all.” The rain beat down harder around them. Despite it being late summer, she felt cold to the bone. Draco shook the box in her face. “Well, take a look then,” he snapped. “If you’re so damn curious, go take a peek. I hope to Merlin Mrs. Addison missed a curse.” Ginny ignored his insult and eyed the box. Before she had decided what to do, her hand grasped it. Damn--she blamed her curiosity on being around Fred and George so much. Draco had taken a step back--she hadn’t even noticed him being so close--and stared down at her expectantly. “Any day now, Weasley. I’m soaked and want to go home.” She had almost asked why they couldn’t just go home and then she could look inside the box, but knew this was her only opportunity to do so. So, without waiting to see if Draco would take the box back or if she would back out, she opened the lid and looked inside. She looked down at a silver necklace with green gems. She was about to give it back to Draco before a bright, white light passed through her eyelids and she left out a painful scream. She felt herself drop to her knees into a puddle, but was too focused on her pounding head. She cupped her head in between her hands. She felt as if a hot knife was being repeatedly stabbed into her brain. She let out another scream as the white light grew heavier in her eyes and then vanished, leaving a picture instilled in her mind. It was of Narcissa’s necklace. The picture vanished just as quickly as it was shown, but the pain remained. She felt hands on her shoulders, shaking her. “Ginny?” It was Draco. Ginny let out a weak whimper and tried to curl into a ball. Her hood had fallen back and she felt rain dampen her hair and run down her face like tears. Or, maybe she was crying from the pain. A pair of strong arms wrapped around her weak body and lifted her up. Ginny managed to open her eyes and look up into Draco’s face. His hood had fallen back as well, and his hair was matted down to his head, but he didn’t seem to notice. He looked down at her with wide eyes, his face filled with what she thought was worry. He held her protectively to his body. “Are you okay?” Ginny tried to tell him that now she was, but before she could open up her mouth everything went black. ~*~ Ginny knew before she had opened up her eyes that she was back in her bed at Malfoy Manor. She could smell the familiar scent of jasmine on her pillow from the shampoo she used. A fire was crackling on the other side of her room, and added to the warmth of her blankets, she felt cozy. It would have been quite comfortable if it wasn’t for the pounding headache she had. She opened her eyes to colors of red and gold from her bed and tried to sit up, but found with every movement her body cried in protest. Before she could struggle, she felt a pair of warm hands on her arm and back. She jumped and found Draco next to her, trying to help her sit up. She hadn’t even seen him, not that she looked, but she was surprised to see him there. “Easy now, Weasley,” Draco said. Once she was sitting against her pillows, he handed her a goblet. “This will help with the pain.” Ginny didn’t even think of the likeliness of him poisoning her. She gulped down the potion, not caring for the disgusting taste. Once she had swallowed the last drop, warmth spread through her body from head to toe, and the pain was gone. She let out a sigh of relief and handed him the goblet. “Thank you,” she said. She pulled the blankets to her chest when she noticed she was in her pajamas. Her face grew red as she looked up at Draco with expectant eyes. Draco’s face tinged pink. “Flipsy changed you,” he said, busying himself with setting down the goblet. “You were soaking wet.” She nodded, but her heart still pounded. She looked at him, and noticed that he was still in his wet clothes; his hair was wet and a bit of a mess. She wanted to ask why he hadn’t changed yet--why he was there, waiting for her to wake up, but she couldn’t form the words. She glanced around him and saw that he had pulled a chair over to the side of her bed. He had taken care of her just as she did to him. “I guess you can go now,” she said. “I’m feeling better.” Draco finally looked up at her and met her eyes. He shook his head. “Not until we know what happened to you,” he said. “I sent an owl a bit ago to someone who knows quite a bit about curses, and I trust him with-” He paused. “I trust he will treat you properly. He should be here in a matter of time.” Ginny nodded. “So the necklace was cursed after all?” Draco ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up at the ends. “I don’t know. I sent Mrs. Addison an owl as well, cursing her to hell, but she responded immediately, saying she had checked for every curse in the book, and found none.” Draco sank into the chair. “All I know is when you opened that box, something terrible happened.” “But I feel fine now,” Ginny said. Now with the pain gone, she felt back to normal health. “Wouldn’t the curse have some sort of side effect?” “Curses can come out in other ways. You can seem fine now, but in a week you could collapse in terrible pain. Or, the effects can be slow, and you may not know what’s wrong until it’s too late.” Ginny stared at her bitten fingernails. He was right, after all. She should have known just the same from what she was taught at Hogwarts, but found it harder to believe that it could be happening to her. “What did you do with the necklace?” “I kept it,” Draco said. “It needs to be examined just as you do.” An idea popped into her mind, and Ginny turned so quickly to Draco that he jumped. “We could ask your mother what’s wrong with it! I’m sure she would tell us-” “Absolutely not, Weasley,” Draco said. “If this is another one of your schemes to get me to talk to her-” “It’s not,” Ginny said quickly. “But if it’s one step closer to the truth-” “She wouldn’t tell us anyways. It was her necklace. If there’s a curse on it, she put it there herself.” Ginny hadn’t thought of that. It hadn’t even crossed her mind. A while ago, she would have thought of Narcissa to be the kind of person to curse objects, but after finding she died to save her own son’s life, her image of her softened. “And if we can’t find out what’s wrong?” Draco’s face looked blank, but his lips were in a tight form and his hands were gripping his knees. “We will,” he said with determination. He rose from his seat and walked to the door. “Get some sleep. I’ll wake you when it’s time to find the curse.” Ginny watched him open the door and he was halfway out when she stopped him. “Wait, Malfoy.” Draco turned and looked at her. He seemed tired, and paler than normal. Ginny took in his wet clothes--she had suddenly hoped he hadn’t caught a cold. “Thank you,” she said. She felt embarrassed at her words. “For taking care of me.” Draco was silent as he stared at her. Just before she felt she should take it back, he nodded and shut the door behind him. ~*~ This time she awoke to two male voices outside her door. Ginny grimaced as she sat up--the pain potion was starting to wear off. She glanced at her window and saw it was night out and that it had stopped raining. Her eyes fell on a tray of sandwiches on her bed stand, and she quickly took one, having not eaten since breakfast. She munched on her turkey club as her ears strained towards the door. One of the males was Draco; the other one, she could not identify, though it sounded familiar. It was a deeper voice, and the whole tone of it seemed very strict and serious. She was halfway through her sandwich when the voices grew louder and she was able to pick up what they were saying. “--and my mother said nothing?” Ginny stopped chewing. That was Draco’s voice, and by the sound of it, he had taken her idea of questioning Narcissa. “She would tell me nothing,” said the other voice. “She insisted on only seeing you.” There was silence. “If you only go and-” “You know I won’t,” snapped Draco. “Did you forget how she died?” Ginny’s eyes widened. She almost jumped out of bed to put her ear against the door to listen better. “You know I haven’t. But if this is a matter of someone’s life-” “Ginny will be fine,” Draco growled. “I just need you to make sure.” Ginny dropped her sandwich at Draco’s use of her name. It was odd, coming from his mouth. It was so…formal. He used it as if there was something behind it. “Be careful, Mr.Malfoy,” the voice warned. “If you’re starting to grow attached, the Dark Lord won’t be pleased.” Something hit the door, making Ginny jump. Whether it was a fist or a body, she didn’t know. “She’s mine to do with what I wish. And you should know me better than to get attached to a Weasley.” Ginny stuck her tongue at the door. It’s not like she wanted him attached to him in the first place, but he didn’t have to insult her. “Very well,” the voice said. “Shall we proceed?” The doorknob turned. Ginny threw the remainder of her sandwich onto the plate and brushed the crumbs off her lap as the door opened. She looked up to see Draco walk in, and then let out a gasp at who followed him. It was Snape. “You!” she yelled at him, causing both him and Draco to stop. There had been rumors of his death since he had killed Dumbledore. The Order had immediately cut off their ties with Snape, seeing him as a traitor, and what other spies they had said there was no word or sight of him. Everyone had hoped that in the end, Severus Snape got what he deserved--death. Snape’s eyes narrowed. “This is what I was talking about, Mr. Malfoy,” he said to his former student. “There’s no point in having a Weasley if you can’t tame it.” “How dare you!” Ginny spat. She crawled out of her sitting position and got as far as kneeling on her bed before Draco came over and tried to push her back down. “Don’t you dare touch me!” she yelled at Draco. He looked startled for a moment--it was the first time she had yelled at him in awhile. She turned her anger on Snape. “We trusted you! We all did! Do you know how many times everyone could have turned you in? Don’t you think I could have gone to Malfoy in school and told him that you were a spy for the Order?” “But he was a spy for the Dark Lord,” Draco interrupted. He seemed to have gotten over his shock of Ginny’s temper, and was now glaring at her as well. “It was you he was fooling, not us.” Ginny fisted her hands in anger. That wasn’t how it was at all. “He was a double agent. He made it look like he was spying on Dumbledore, but really-” “But really it was an easier way to get into your foolish little Order,” Snape said with a drawling voice. “It’s nauseating how trusting you lot are.” An evil smile filled his face. “Or should I say, were?” “You’re horrible,” she said. Her whole body was shaking, and it was a challenge to try to keep her voice level. “I want you out of my room. Both of you.” Draco opened his mouth to argue, but Snape stepped in. “As much as I would appreciate that, Ms. Weasley, Mr. Malfoy asked me to come for a reason.” He turned to eye Draco. “Though if I were him, I would just leave you to suffer with what the curse has left you.” “Yes, well you’re not, so can we just get this over with before Weasley throws something at us?” Draco snapped. Ginny let go of the pillow she had just grabbed, feeling foolish. She had wanted to throw it, at Snape or Draco she didn’t know **[which?]**, because there was nothing else in arm’s reach and she felt that if she couldn’t do something, she would scream. “I’ll start,” Snape said, stressing the I, “but you’ll have to leave, Mr. Malfoy.” Draco’s mouth dropped open, and at that moment he looked like the whiny boy he had been at Hogwarts. “You don’t really expect me to do such a thing! Weasley is mine and-” “And the check I have to do on her is quite personal and would be better if you weren’t around for it,” Snape finished. He eyed Ginny. “That is of course, Ms. Weasley, if you don’t mind.” Draco whipped his head to Ginny, waiting for her to answer. “I-” Ginny started. What did Snape mean by personal? Oh, Merlin, would she have to take off her clothes in front of him? She eyed Draco. The last thing she wanted was to be left alone with Snape, but if it was personal, she didn’t want Draco to see anything, no matter what his presence may do to her. “I do mind.” Draco’s face turned red and he glared daggers at her. He stalked out of the room and slammed the door shut. Snape stared after him. “Just when I think he had grown up…” He whipped out his wand and turned to Ginny. “Let’s get started.” Ginny cowered at the wand and at Snape approaching. She suddenly wished Draco was there, and that she hadn’t made him leave. “Now, wait just a minute,” she said, crawling backwards to the head board. She met the board and stared at Snape with big eyes. She was cornered with no where to go. She clutched at her shirt. “I’m keeping my clothes on!” Snape stared at her, and then to her surprise rolled his eyes. “I do hope so,” he said before pointing his wand to her. He must have said the spell in his mind, because when Ginny heard nothing spoken, she felt warmness run through her body. She let out a yelp as she watched a pink light run from her fingertips and up her arms. “What’s happening?” “I’m scanning your body for curses,” he said. He put his wand back in his pocket. “If there’s any in any part of your body, the light will stop and grow blue.” Ginny felt the warmness go down her back. “But you said it was personal-” “That,” Snape said, his face turning grave, “was to get Mr. Malfoy out of the room.” “I don’t understand-” “You must be careful around him,” Snape said in a low whisper. “I don’t know what he has planned for you.” Ginny’s mouth opened and then shut. “I-” She couldn’t continue. One minute, Snape was insulting her, and now he was telling her to be careful? “What are you playing at?” “You and the Order may have made your assumptions about me, but you only knew half of the truth,” Snape said in a fast whisper. “I know where my loyalties lie, and though the Order is destroyed, I am still at duty to do what I can to help the last member.” Ginny gaped at him in shock. “You can’t honestly expect me to believe that-” “Shh!” Snape spit out, motioning towards the door. Ginny shut her mouth, out of years of having to listen to Snape in class or out of knowing what he was saying was important, she didn’t know. But watching his behavior--his tense shoulders, and his eyes that kept on jumping to the door--to see him so restless went against everything she had ever believed about him. Never once did she see him behave this way. He was normally so in control, so collected. She knew he had to be in order to be a spy, that if he let any of his real emotions out, he would be caught. So for him to be acting in this way- “You can’t be telling the truth,” she said in a faint voice. “You just can’t--you killed Dumbledore!” “I did what I was ordered to do. I believe you would have done the same, Ms. Weasley, if it was possible to help win the war.” Ginny shook her head. “But we didn’t win,” she said. “You didn’t help at all.” Snape’s face grew dark. His eyes stopped looking at the door. “I did what I could from my position,” he said. “And no, we didn’t win. And that’s because of Mr. Malfoy.” “Malfoy? What did he-” “I assume he told you why he won you as a prize?” Ginny stopped. “Well, yes. He said for finding Harry. But he couldn’t have--only my family and Hermione knew where Harry was hidden.” “I don’t know how Mr. Malfoy knew where he was, but he did. I wasn’t there when the Dark Lord found Potter, but I know the Dark Lord was directed on where to go by Draco. We had known that Potter had gone into hiding. The Dark Lord was furious--he knew he was winning the war and he wanted to finish it with Potter’s death. He went as far as killing your family in hopes of bringing Potter out of his hiding.” Ginny’s breath caught in her throat. “That monster,” she whispered. “Well it didn’t work. Harry would have wanted to come out to avenge my family, I know he would have, but he wasn’t ready yet. He was weak--far too weak to fight yet. He wouldn’t have risked his life when he had to save everyone.” “And after that was clear, the Dark Lord went to drastic measures. He began saying whoever could find Potter would be greatly awarded, that they could have anything they dreamed of. And that’s when Draco told him of where Potter was.” Ginny felt her body go weak--she felt dizzy. “And he asked for me,” she said faintly. “He only told Voldemort where Harry was because he wanted me.” She tried to shake her head, but she couldn’t move. “But that still doesn’t explain how he knew-” “There was one person still alive after your family’s death,” Snape said. “It’s possible Draco got the answer out of her.” This time Ginny did shake her head. “Hermione,” she said, finalizing the name. “Hermione would have died before betraying Harry.” Snape grew quiet. “And before her death,” he said, his voice low, “she was questioned repeatedly by who killed her.” Ginny wanted to ask who that was before the door opened, and in walked Draco. “Are you bloody done yet?” he snapped. “I’ve been waiting long enough. Is she cursed or what?” And then, as she stared at Draco, she suddenly knew her answer. “You,” she said, “you killed Hermione.” Draco stiffened. “What have you told her?” he hissed at Snape. Snape raised an eyebrow at Draco. “I only told her what was necessary to make her suffer,” he drawled. “I didn’t know it was so important to you to have a clean reputation towards her.” Ginny watched as Draco’s chest heaved, and his face grew pink. “Is she cursed or not?” “She’s fine,” Snape said. He straightened his robes. “My job here is done.” Nodding at Draco, he walked by him as if the younger man didn’t look like he was ready to explode. Ginny almost let out a cry when she saw Snape close the door behind him, enclosing Draco in the room with her. Draco turned on Ginny. “What has he told you?” Ginny jumped at his anger. “Just that,” she said. “Just…just that you killed Hermione.” Ginny felt her lower lip tremble. Too much has happened that day--it was too heavy on her, and now she felt herself breaking down. She felt ready to burst into tears, but she refused to cry in front of Draco. Draco ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t look at me like that,” he said. “I did what I had to do.” “And what was so important that you had to kill the only person I had left?” Ginny cried, her tears now falling freely. She hastily wiped them away, hating them. Why was she crying? Shouldn’t she have expected such a thing from him, from a Death Eater? Shouldn’t she have known that there was more to the man that stood before her then of him just taking care of her? Draco reached out to her, but paused when Ginny stiffened. “You won’t believe me,” he said, “but I didn’t want to kill her.” Ginny let out a loud laugh. “Right--I forgot, you always fancied Hermione back at school! Of course you wanted to keep her alive!” “I saw no point in her death!” he snapped. “Yes, I hated her. Yes, at one point I wanted nothing more than to be the one to get rid of her. But when that time came, things had changed. The circumstances were different and I knew she would be of more use alive than dead.” “And to what use would that be?” Ginny asked. In anger, she managed to crawl off her bed and now approached Draco, standing tall despite being several inches shorter then him. She poked him in the chest, and he let her. “To be raped? To be tortured? What use would Hermione have to you? She knew she was as good as dead! She told me herself--she told me that she would die, because she wasn’t pureblood like me; that she would die because she knew too much.” “It wasn’t about her blood!” Draco snapped. “And tell me this--did anyone once come into your cell and rape her? Did they?” Ginny paused, but her temper was still going. “Don’t tell me you stopped them,” she said. “Don’t you dare expect me to believe that.” “It was because of me she survived that long!” Draco snapped. “I put you two together--I put Crabbe and Goyle at the door to protect both of you. I hated that Mudblood bitch more than anything, and even after her death I still do!” “Then why did you do it?” Ginny cried. “Why would you go through so much trouble if you hated her?” “That’s none of your business!” he snapped. “I’m done with your questions.” He turned to leave, but Ginny grabbed his arm and pulled him roughly towards her. “No!” she yelled. “I’m sick of not knowing what’s going on--you’re hiding too much! You claimed you helped out Hermione--why? Why did you have Crabbe and Goyle protect my cell? Why didn’t you just leave your filthy friends to rape both of us, to torture us, to do what they did to all the other prisoners?” Draco glared down at her, but she ignored his stare. “I want answers, Malfoy! Why me? Why am I your prize? You said it was to make me suffer, but I have seen nothing of the sort since I’ve been here!” Draco grabbed onto her arm, squeezing it tightly. Ginny yelped in pain. “Is that what you want?” he growled. “Do you want me to hurt you? Is that what you expect of me?” Ginny raised her free hand to slap him, but he grabbed that arm as well. Ginny struggled under his grasp, but he held her tight. “You don’t scare me anymore, Malfoy,” Ginny spat. “Do what you want to me, but I’ll continue to pester you until I know the truth. Why did you help Hermione? How did you know where to find Harry? And why all the extra treatment at the prison? Why Crabbe and Goyle? Why-” “I did it for you!” Draco yelled. “I did it all for you!” And before Ginny could register what he said, Draco pulled her towards him, and kissed her. ~*~ My first cliff-hanger!! Don’t get mad though—at least I don’t do this to you every chapter, like I did in my story “Can’t Decide to Love or Hate You.” I believe I also introduced the first kiss in that story at chapter four. Interesting. I decided to update every two weeks. I think that’s a fair time to give myself to write, and it’s not too long of a wait. So in two weeks, stay tuned to see how Ginny reacts to the kiss! Thanks for reading and please review! Liz21 5. Chapter Five --------------- Okay all of my lovely reviewers--I broke the two week cycle just for you!! If I stuck to my plan I wouldn’t have updated this until next week, but I know everyone is anxiously awaiting this chapter. Reason for the two week period? So if I get really busy, you’re not left waiting a month for a chapter, because I already have a few written already. Does that make sense? Well, chapter six is done and is waiting to be edited, but since I posted chapter five early, don’t yell at me if it takes awhile for chapter seven!! WARNING: THIS CHAPTER IS A HEAVY R FOR SEXUAL CONTENT. MAYBE NC-17. I REALLY DON’T KNOW--I SUCK AT THE RATING. IF YOU DON’T WANT TO FIND OUT JUST HOW TALENTED DRACO MALFOY IS IN THE BED, THEN STOP READING. IF THAT’S THE CASE, LEAVE ME A MESSAGE AND I CAN TELL YOU WHAT GOES ON IN THE CHAPTER WHERE SEXUAL SITUATIONS AREN’T INVOLVED. That is all. Enjoy! ~*~ Ginny’s body stiffened as Draco’s lips descended onto hers. They were warm-warmer than she would have thought. She had always figured that Draco would be a cold person; cold to match his personality. But his lips were warm and pressed hard into hers. The force of the kiss made her stumble backwards onto the bed, and Draco followed her and was now lying on top of her. She raised her hands to push him off, but he still held her arms, and she couldn’t move. Her mind was racing a mile a minute--Draco Malfoy, a Death Eater, someone she was born to hate, was kissing her. She opened her mouth to tell him to shove off, but parting her lips against his only gave him the signal to deepen the kiss and put his tongue in her mouth. Ginny had every right to bite his tongue, and was about to, when she felt her body relax at his touch. She was conscious of Draco letting go of her arms and use his hands to cup her face, but she still didn’t move. His kiss--how his lips tugged against her own--how his tongue lightly played with her--all felt so familiar. Familiar enough, that her body was betraying her and she started to kiss back. But it wasn’t a feeling of love coursing through her body at a Malfoy’s touch. Ginny hated him for touching her, for feeling as if he had a right to. And she hated herself for responding to him in such a manner. Harry had never kissed her like this--like if he couldn’t touch her for another second, he was about to explode. Something tightened in her stomach--she couldn’t deny that it was nice having a male touch her--it had been so long since one had. And she hated it. Her temper rose as Draco sunk his hands into her hair, tugging on it. When she let out a moan, she almost wanted to cry at doing so, and letting out such a sensual noise for *him.* So, in retribution, she snaked her arms up to his own hair, still damp from the rain, and tugged on it much harder than was necessary. Draco let go of her lips and let out a hiss, that only made Ginny grow warmer. “Ginny,” he said before he kissed her, harder. He used her name again--she hated how it sounded on his lips. She hated how he touched her, hated how her body liked it. She wanted to hurt him--she wanted to hurt herself for enjoying such an act. She bit his lip and tasted blood, and when Draco opened his eyes wide, Ginny laughed in her mind at his surprised look. But then she felt something poking her stomach. Merlin--he got off on pain, at the pain she gave him. And help her, it only excited her. Ginny quickly pulled at his robe, pushing it off her shoulders. As she undid his shirt, Draco let go of her lips and bit her neck until Ginny let out a yelp. Her body grew warmer--she accepted the pain and wanted more of it. Once his shirt was off and his chest was naked, Ginny ran her nails down the length of his back, hard. Draco let out a groan and ripped at her night shirt, frantically trying to get it off, and resorted to ripping it in two. Ginny felt the air hit her breasts--she was naked underneath the shirt. She had no time to feel self-conscious before Draco’s hands were on her and he pinched her nipple. “Yes,” she whispered. She wanted to say yes, to hurt her more. That this was the most alive she had felt in months, and she wanted more of it. But she wondered if her words would only stop his progress, and she wanted to go until she knew when it would hurt the most, when he would take her and hurt her being her first. Her inexperienced hands fumbled with his pants button. Draco nudged her hands away and undid his pants himself, and while he drew them off, Ginny moved her body towards the middle of her bed, laying down on the rustled blankets, and waited for him. When Draco was finally naked, he looked up at her and stopped moving. Ginny’s breath caught when she watched his eyes trail up and down her body, naked and waiting for him. She let out a whimper as he took his time sinking her in. She wanted his hands on her again--she wanted him to leave bruises on her pale skin and feel the roughness of his hands. It was horrible what she was doing, but Merlin forbid it was the most alive she had felt in a long time. Draco finally moved and crawled up onto the bed and straddled her body. Ginny’s virgin eyes grew round at catching a glimpse at his length. Her heart quickened--how on earth was he supposed to fit into her? It would hurt, it would hurt more than anything, and she welcomed the pain. When he put his hands on her again, he was gentle. He lightly kissed her lips, and trailed them down her neck and to her breasts, where he ever so gently took her nipple into his mouth and rolled his tongue around the nipple. Ginny’s breath quickened. Wait-but he wasn’t hurting her. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. She can’t enjoy him while he was being nice. She couldn’t let herself enjoy anything but pain at the moment. Ginny’s hands grabbed at his hair and tugged at it, hard. Draco groaned and sucked harder on her, leaving Ginny moaning in satisfaction. Her hips rose off the bed and she dug them into his, feeling his length against her. She had never done this before, but she knew he liked it, so she kept on doing it. Draco let go of her breast and looked up into her hooded eyes. “Are you sure?” Sure of what, she wanted to ask. Was she sure she needed to feel the pain--yes, she was sure. Was she sure she wanted him to touch her? Well, it was a little too late for that, wasn’t it? She nodded her head. Her heart quickened when she saw him settle himself in between her legs. Breath escaped her lips when she felt him poking at her entrance. “Mr. Malfoy--you need to take a look at this-” Ginny let out a scream and scrambled to cover herself up, pushing Draco off of her. Draco cursed loudly. “Snape! Get the hell out of here!” The door slammed shut. Ginny’s heart raced and her face felt hot. She drew her ripped clothes around her naked body, trying to cover herself up, though there was only Draco in the room and he had already seen her naked. He himself was tossed on the side of the bed and he drew himself up to his knees and looked over at her. His face was filled with anger at being interrupted. He reached a hand towards her but Ginny jumped back. She was desperately trying to cover herself up. Snape’s interruption woke her up from what she was doing. It made her see what she was actually doing, what she was about to do. Her eyes widened. She had almost had sex with Draco Malfoy. Draco seemed to have registered what was going on in her mind. “Ginny-” “Don’t call me that,” she snapped. She felt tears gather in her eyes. Oh, she hated herself. She almost had her first time with a Malfoy. What would her family think? What would Harry think? His hand reached for her again, but she let out a cry and he paused. His look almost broke her heart--he looked defeated, not angry like she would have expected. He gave her a long look before he turned his back on her and reached for his clothes, slowly pulling them on. Ginny averted her eyes away from him. She couldn’t watch him. She could barely touch herself. She grasped at her ripped shirt when a shirt was presented to her. She looked up and saw Draco handing him his shirt to cover herself up with, his eyes staring at the bed instead of looking at her. Ginny quietly took the shirt and drew it over her head. She wanted to thank him, but she couldn’t bring herself to speak to him. She watched him pick his robe off the ground. Without a word, he left the room. Ginny let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding in. Very slowly, she got off her bed and walked over to her closet where she grabbed a pair of Muggle jeans and pulled them on. She wondered if she had any bruises on her body, or any marks at all. Marks that Draco left in what she could only call a fit of passion. She couldn’t look at herself in the mirror when she fastened her jeans button with trembling fingers. She could only feel shame. Shame and a bit of guilt for using Draco in a way not even he deserved. She had wanted to hurt him, she had wanted to hurt herself, and she was paying for it. A knock sounded on the door and Ginny turned to see Draco poke his head in. “We need you to come out and see this.” Ginny nodded and met him at the door, not looking him in the eye. She followed him down the hallway, watching his naked back move as he walked. She wondered why he didn’t put a shirt on yet. They walked down the stairs in silence and to the drawing room where Snape was waiting for them. Ginny’s face reddened as Snape looked at her, and she averted her eyes to the ground. Snape cleared his voice. There was so much awkward tension in the room she felt ready to pop. “Miss Weasley,” he said. “I need you to tell me what happened when you saw Mrs. Malfoy’s necklace.” Ginny paused, trying to remember what happened past the pain she had felt. “There was a white flash, and then there was pain. Then, in my mind, I saw the necklace, as if it was in my hands.” She looked up at Snape. “Why do you ask?” Snape exchanged a look with Draco before he turned and reached for something behind him. Ginny stiffened as he presented the necklace to her. She waited for pain to fill her body, but nothing happened. She thought she heard Draco sigh in relief, but she forced herself not to look at him. “This doesn’t make sense,” Snape mumbled. “Why would you react such a way the first time you saw it, and then have nothing happen the next time? But that’s not what I was testing--look at the green gem in the middle.” Ginny bent down and peered at the necklace. She was too afraid to touch it, to take it into her own hands. There was a silver inscription on the bead- G.W. Ginny bolted upwards. “But that’s--those are my initials!” “And they weren’t there before you saw it,” Draco said. He grabbed the necklace from Snape’s hand and examined it. “So it makes me wonder if my mother did put some kind of spell on it that attaches the necklace to a particular person.” “That’s very likely, but why she would do such a thing makes no sense,” Snape said. “And I’ve checked it for curses as well and have found nothing.” Ginny stared at the necklace in Draco’s hands. “But why me?” she asked. “Why would a piece of jewelry owned by a Malfoy attach itself to a Weasley? I’m the last person that should have happened to.” Draco looked up at her words and caught her eyes. Ginny’s face reddened as he held her stare; her heartbeat quickened. Just a moment ago those eyes had seen her completely naked and willing. Ginny forced herself to look away. “I think it’s best to keep the necklace someplace safe,” Snape said. “That is, of course, if it’s all right with you, Ms. Weasley. It is, after this point, yours.” Ginny shook her head. “I don’t want it. Put it away somewhere--take it away from me. Something is wrong with that necklace, and I don’t want to find out what it is.” Snape handed Draco the box. “I know just the place for it,” Draco said, leaving Ginny alone with Snape. Ginny turned as well, ready to flee from Snape out of embarrassment at what he saw, but he stopped her. “I apologize for walking in when I did,” Snape said, “but I believe it’s for the best that it happened.” Snape’s voice dropped. “You can’t get close to him, Ms. Weasley, not until we know what his true motives are.” “I don’t want to get close to him!” she said quickly. Snape raised an eyebrow at her. “What you saw was an accident,” Ginny said. “It will never happen again. I refuse to let it happen again.” Snape stared at her for a moment before he nodded his head. “Just be cautious, Ms. Weasley. There’s a small chance that Draco put that attachment spell on that necklace. If you put it on, you may have ended up becoming attached to a piece of Malfoy property, and you would be under his control.” Ginny shuddered at the thought. His ordering her around now was a problem, but she was capable of denying him. But if she was tied down by the necklace, there would be no telling if she would be able to refuse to do his bidding or not. “Will I see you again?” She hated sounding hopeful, because she still hated Snape for who he was, but he was the only one alive that was on her side. Snape nodded. “I believe you are attending Ms. Parkinson’s ball? I wasn’t going myself until Draco mentioned he was bringing you, and I fear you may need protection.” “What do you think Draco will do to me?” “Not Draco,” Snape said. “From all those attending. If they catch word that a member from the Order is there, anything could happen. There are some who would very much like to seek revenge on the Order of the Phoenix.” Ginny nodded. She knew that Order members had killed many Death Eaters in order to survive. They weren’t proud of it, not like the Death Eaters were in their murdering, but the Order had taken many lives and ruined many evil plans. And though she knew Azkaban no longer held any prisoners, there were some that had spent a better part of their lives in that dreadful place because of an Order member, or of an Auror who was closely tied to the Order. The Death Eaters may have won the war, but they were far from forgetting those who had done them wrong. Snape straightened his robes. “I must leave before Mr. Malfoy returns. If you need anything at all, send me an owl, but there is no saying I’ll respond incase Draco intercepts the message.” Ginny nodded and watched him walk out the room. Her head was swirling from the day’s events. She had wondered if the pain from the necklace was due to it attaching itself to her--that could explain why she saw the necklace in her head, and why she didn’t suffer the second time she saw it. Ginny bit her lip as she leaned against an armchair. But the question was whether or not Draco knew there was an attachment charm on the necklace, and if he had meant for her to have it. Though she would have loved to blame Draco for such a thing, it stuck out that he was reluctant for her to see the necklace in the first place. If it was meant for her, she wouldn’t have had to beg and annoy him into letting her see it. Unless he knew it would seem odd if he was too willing to let her see what was his mother’s, because if he just handed it over to Ginny with no complaint that would be too suspicious… “Snape left?” Ginny jumped at Draco’s voice. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t hear him come in. “Just a minute ago,” she said. Her eyes stared at his naked chest--why the bloody hell couldn’t he put a shirt on--and moved up his body to his face, where she saw he was watching her. Ginny blushed and looked away. “Can I go now?” “Yes; it’s been a long day for both of us. Tomorrow we’ll go to Diagon Alley to get you a dress for Pansy’s ball.” Ginny nodded, and without looking at him she walked by him, conscious of their arms brushing. Out of the corner of her eye she saw his body stiffen. She almost stopped--she almost asked why he did it, why he kissed her--but her feet kept on moving and led her up the stairs and to her room. She wanted to take a bath, to wash her body after being touched by Draco, but she was suddenly too tired to do such a task. She shrugged off her pants before crawling into the bed, and it wasn’t until she was settled in that she became aware that she was still wearing Draco’s shirt. Her hands gathered the black fabric and brought it to her nose; it smelled of Draco-- of something musky and mysterious. She inhaled once more, feeling ashamed for doing so, before she sank deeper into her pillow and fell asleep. ~*~ During some part of the night, Ginny had awoken to the creaking of her bedroom door. She strained her blinking eyes to see who it was, but Flipsy must have pulled down her bed curtains. “Flipsy?” she called out. The only response was the shutting of the door. Ginny drew herself up on her elbows and pushed back her blankets. She was ready to see who it was, when a bed curtain was drawn to the side and she saw, by the moonlight from the open window, that it was Draco. “Malfoy!” Ginny squeaked, trying to fully sit up. Her hands scrambled for her blankets--she was only wearing Draco’s shirt and in her position, it showed the tops of her thighs. But before she could do so, Draco stopped her hand by laying his on top, and without a word he crawled onto her bed and right next to her. Ginny’s mouth went dry as Draco pushed the blankets aside, exposing her legs and even her feet. He was still shirtless, and wore a baggy pair of pajama bottoms that were slipping from his trim waistline. Her eyes followed a light blond trail of hair that started from his navel and descended beneath the pants. Her face grew warm and she gulped. Draco placed a hand on her knee and trailed it up, so delicately that it made her shiver. He stopped on the outside of her thigh, playing with the trim of her underwear. “What-what are you doing, Malfoy?” she asked. Oh, she knew perfectly well what his hands were doing, and she made no move to stop him. Draco’s hand abandoned her thigh, and moved like a jungle cat over her body. He rested his hands on either side of his head, his knees straddling her waist. He peered down at her, his hair hanging around his face. “I want to finish what we started,” he whispered, his voice low. He bent down and nibbled on her ear, causing Ginny to gasp. “I want to make you mine,” he whispered into her ear. Ginny’s eyelids fluttered, threatening to close on her and allow him to do what he wanted. But no, she thought suddenly. This was Draco Malfoy, and she would not allow him to seduce her. She opened her eyes and found herself looking back into his. She opened her mouth to tell him to get off, but before she could speak he bent down and kissed her. She hadn’t noticed the first time he kissed her how soft his lips were. And they were gentle, far gentler than he had ever acted towards her. They weren’t rough and demanding like before, when they were tearing each other’s clothes off. His kiss was soft, so soft she almost couldn’t feel it. Before she wanted him to be rough, to hurt her, but now he treated her as if she might break. Ginny leaned her head into the kiss, pushing hard against his lips, trying to get him to quicken his pace, or to push back, but he only lifted his lips off of hers and kissed the line of her jaw, ignoring her protests. He gently kissed his way down her throat, leaving little marks and blowing air on them, before he found his way to the opening of her shirt--his shirt--that she wore. Ginny expected him to rip that shirt off as well--she still wanted the aggression--but Draco leaned back up to her and kissed her mouth, this time opening up her lips with his tongue which he slipped in. Ginny was so focused on him kissing her like that, that she almost didn’t feel his hand slip under her shirt and head towards her breast. She let out a moan against his mouth when his hand found what he was searching for and gently put pressure on her breast. Her hands flew to his hair and tugged on it. Draco hissed into her mouth, and for a split second it looked like he had lost all control, but he pulled back. “We’re doing this my way, Ginny,” he said. “I won’t let you take out your aggression on me like that again.” “But-” How had he known? Instead of asking, Ginny leaned up and kissed him, feeling it was easier doing that than trying to figure out what was going on. She found it better to just let her body do what it wanted instead of letting her mind think. She followed Draco’s slow pace, though her heart was beating wildly, and she felt that if he’d stop touching her, she’d break. He only did stop to lift the shirt over her head, but his hands were back on her before she could moan in protest. He kissed his way down to her chest, encircling a nipple with the tip of his tongue, and onward down her stomach. Ginny’s breath hitched as Draco slipped off her underwear, exposing herself to him. She thought he would come back up to her, but he kissed the top of her thighs and nudged her legs apart. Ginny watched him with curiosity, wondering what he was going to do. Never had Harry and she gone this far--the closest he had gotten to her underwear was reaching his hands up her school skirt and feeling it, but that was it. Never had she laid naked for a man like she was doing for Draco. Never had she had a man so close to a place where only she had touched herself. She watched Draco settle himself between her legs, and she was about to ask what he was doing when she saw him dart out his tongue. She let out a cry at the sensation of him licking her. Her hands gripped the sheet underneath her as he touched a particularly sensitive area, making her body quiver. Draco had seemed to have lost a bit of his control when she felt him grip the sides of her thigh tightly and press his mouth further into her, licking and sucking every bit of her. Ginny felt her body tighten in a deep pleasure, as if something was building up. She let out a moan and her hips bucked as Draco inserted a finger into her, then two. He moved them inside of her, softly at first, but he soon gained momentum as Ginny withered under him. “Oh!” Ginny gasped, now clutching onto the pillow behind her, holding on for dear life. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before. It went beyond the pleasure of riding a broomstick up to the highest heights, though she did feel like she was rising and going to fall at any moment. She felt Draco curl his fingers inside of her, and then with a brush of his tongue on the most sensitive area, Ginny felt herself explode. She had wondered, between riding waves of pleasure, if she had blacked out for a moment. She was dimly area of her screaming out a name, a name that was foreign to her lips. “Draco!” That must have been the response he was looking for, because just as she was coming to, Draco moved up her body and was now kissing her, kissing her so hard and thoroughly that it took her breath away. Ginny wrapped her legs around him and pulled him closer. She nudged his pants’ waistline with her foot, trying to get them off. Draco pushed her foot away and tried to pull his pants down without moving away from her. His movements were frantic and desperate, and he swore when his pants would barely budge. Ginny wanted to giggle, but she lost her voice when she saw him move and take off his pants. Ginny’s mouth went dry at seeing him--she had forgotten how big he was. She hesitantly reached out and grasped him in her hand, making Draco groan. A surge ran through her body at knowing her touching him made him feel amazing, and she wanted to do it again. She wanted him to be withering like she was a moment ago. Though she had no idea what to do next, her hand seemed to have taken over, and was doing quite the job. Draco’s body strained on his knees before her. He grabbed Ginny’s face and brought his lips to hers, but Ginny would not be disrupted from her task. She glanced down at her hand, feeling him pulsating, and in a flash ducked down and took him in her mouth. This time Draco nearly fell backwards, unable to hold himself up anymore. He positioned himself so his back was firmly on the bed, and his hands were in Ginny’s hair as she bobbed up and down. A wild rush was building in Ginny--it was like when he was pleasing her, but this was a different kind of pleasure. It was the pleasure of knowing he was at her command, that he was completely vulnerable now and needed her. It was knowing that she could send him to where she just was, that she could give him something as great as that pleasure. “Ginny,” he moaned. Ginny continued to pump him as she licked the tip. “Oh Merlin, Ginny,” Draco cried out. Ginny’s heart quickened. She could feel he was almost there. She gently cupped his balls, making Draco’s body hitch forward. She glanced up to see his eyes closed, and his mouth open. “Weasley.” Ginny slowed down her movements, dazed that Draco just called her by her last name. Was this some kinky wordplay he was doing, using a name he spoke as if it was dirt? “Come on, Weasley. I haven’t got all day.” Ginny gasped and let go of him. How dare he speak to her that way! She had every sense to grab what she just had in her mouth and squeeze it painfully. She completely sat up and bent forward to slap him across the face. “I said wake up!” Ginny opened her eyes and found Draco hovering over her bed, staring at her. Ginny let out a scream and grabbed her blanket to cover her naked body, but she found that her shirt was back on. In fact, now that she looked at him, Draco was fully clothed. Ginny frantically looked around her. All her bed curtains were tied up, just as they were when she had gone to bed, and it was morning, not night. Her heart was still racing though; her face was hot. “You okay, Weasley? What on earth were you dreaming about?” Ginny jumped and stared at him with wide eyes. “Nothing, Dra-Malfoy! Nothing at all!” Oh no, she thought quickly to herself, she did not just have a sex dream about him…she did not… Draco raised an eyebrow at her. “All right then,” he drawled. “If it was nothing, then can you please get your arse out of bed and get ready? It’s already lunch time and we have to go shopping today.” “Lunch time? How long have I been sleeping?” “Too bloody long, that’s for sure.” He dropped his eyebrows. “Are you feeling all right? This may be some side effect to the necklace.” Ginny shook her head. “No, no I’m fine. I’m sure I’m fine.” Draco stared at her. She saw his eyes glance down at the shirt she wore. “I’ll meet you downstairs in ten minutes,” he said, and with a lingering glance he left her room. Ginny let out a breath when he was gone. She crawled out of bed, finding her legs trembling. She could barely look at herself in the mirror as she pulled out some clothes. Shame and guilt didn’t cover what she was feeling at the moment. Disgust and embarrassment were certainly thrown in there, along with the mystery of why she would have had such a dream in the first place. Ginny was pulling off her underwear when she stopped. She glanced down at them and let out a groan of agitation. They were soaking wet. She took them off and pitched them into a corner of the closet. If she had a wand, she would have burned them. Furious with herself, she threw on whatever clothes were nearest and marched out of her room, slamming the door behind her. The Ginny Draco was about to see wasn’t going to be a happy one, and she wouldn’t be anywhere near being turned on by him. ~*~ Her bitter mood certainly didn’t leave her when they entered Diagon Alley, and it was joined by discomfort. From when Ginny first saw Draco as she walked down the stairs, she felt butterflies in her stomach betraying her. She had sneaked several glances at him while they walked to the gate. She finally admitted that yes, he was attractive, and it was normal for her to be attracted to him, considering she was nineteen years old, hadn’t been touched by a man in months, and was constantly around him. But even on his good days, she still found hatred towards him, or at least dislike. And she reminded herself of Snape’s warning of him, to be careful until they knew exactly what was going on. She decided that sex with Draco was the last thing she wanted to do, not that she ever wanted it in the first place. But she still felt uncomfortable being so close to him after such a vivid dream, and after what they had done in real life. Draco must have felt it too, because he was making no snide remarks towards her--he was barely talking at all. She found that a silent Malfoy was scarier than a yelling Malfoy. When they had approached Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions, he had told her she could pick out whatever she wanted, and that he would meet her back here. She stood in the alley, watching him walk away and slip into Knockturn Alley. With a frown, she entered the store. Despite what his motives were, Ginny was thankful that Draco had left her to do the shopping by herself. She couldn’t imagine trying on a dozen dresses for him, or if he would ask her to. She had just brought a beige dress to the counter, asking for it to be billed to Draco, when she heard the door open. “My, my, I didn’t expect a little weasel to be in here.” Ginny jumped and turned around. It was Pansy Parkison, and she was glaring. “Draco should know better than to just let you run lose, especially with that red hair.” Ginny grasped at the hood of her robe--she had forgotten to put it up after she changed. She stood strong in front of Pansy. “Malfoy doesn’t control me,” she spat. Pansy let out a loud laugh, but she sounded nowhere near happy. “Is that what you convince yourself to make you fall asleep at night? Or to make you sane? Tell me, Weasley, what is it like being owned by a Malfoy? Kind of defeats everything you and your dead family had worked so hard for.” Ginny’s face reddened with fury. “You leave my family out of this,” she hissed, “you filthy Death Eater.” Pansy’s eyes flashed and she took a step closer. “So filthy that my side won?” she asked. “What does that make you then, besides a traitor and a whore?” Ginny’s mouth dropped open. “Neither! How dare you-” “You telling me that Draco hasn’t nailed you yet?” Pansy hissed. “I know that’s why he wanted you. Everyone else might think that he did it to torture you, but I know him better than that.” Pansy took a step closer. “I know everything, in fact, Weasley, and if you think you can have him-” “I don’t want him!” Ginny nearly screeched. “Take him if you want him so bloody bad, because I don’t!” Pansy’s face grimaced for a moment, and Ginny looked like she was in pain. “There was once a time that I did want him,” she said. “But things have changed. Like, for example-” She whipped out her wand and pressed it into Ginny’s chest. “I can torture you in public and not get punished for it.” Ginny’s face whitened. She quickly looked around her, but the only person in the store was Madam Malkin, and she was busying herself with a stack of robes as if nothing was happening. Pansy glanced over at Madam Malkin. “She knows she can’t do anything,” Pansy said. “No one can, Weasley. The only person in this whole world that gives a crap that you’re alive isn’t here right now. Doesn’t that fact just make you all warm and fuzzy inside?” Ginny took a step back, her hands reaching behind her in hopes of grabbing something heavy to hit Pansy with. All she found was the counter, which her back was now pressed against. “Malfoy would kill you if you hurt me,” she said. And not until it was said from her own mouth did she truly believe it. Pansy must have to, because her wand wavered. “There will be a time and a place where he can’t rescue you,” she said. She put her wand back in her robe and headed for the door, not taking her eyes off her. “Malfoy can’t always be around, and I’ll make sure of that the next time we cross paths.” Once she slipped out the door, Ginny’s knees buckled and she knelt on the ground. Ginny hugged her shaking body. She had always been brave--she wasn’t put in Gryffindor for nothing--but all of her courage was washed away at knowing without a wand, she was completely defenseless. That she would have to depend on Draco to survive outside Malfoy Manor. The door chimed open and before she heard Draco call her name in shock, she knew it was him. He knelt down in front of her, grasping her shoulders. “What happened? Are you ill?” Ginny forced herself to look up at his face. She was now dependent on this man to live, despite what she had thought before. Ginny nodded. “I feel a bit sick to my stomach.” Draco got to his feet and helped her stand up. “Lean on me,” he advised her before they left the store and to the Apparation point. Ginny did so, and had to force herself not to cry at the act. Despite everything she stood for, despite years of family hatred and efforts in the war, it had come to this. Of all the years Draco had ridiculed her for being poor; of listening to all trash talk Ron had given the blonde boy. After his father had tortured her with Tom Riddle’s diary and he had nearly killed Dumbledore--after kissing him and almost giving him something she had never given to Harry--after all of this, she knew he was the sole reason why she was alive, and that she would have to live with that dependence for the rest of her life. When they entered Malfoy Manor, Ginny released a sob and sank to her knees. Her shoulders heaved as she mourned for had happened and for what to expect. She knew that after a good cry, she would have to stick to her plan of accepting it and moving on. And she would, but at this moment all she could do was cry. She was thankful that Draco didn’t touch her, because she knew that she would break down completely if he did. But he did stay by her, and she felt his eyes on her. She didn’t care though--she cried until she could cry no more, until her body felt weak from the effort. As she sniffled, a handkerchief was handed to her, and she took it gratefully. When she could collect herself as best as she could, Ginny stood on trembling legs and handed the handkerchief back to Draco. Draco took it. “Are you feeling better now?” Ginny thought for a moment, and then looked up into his face. “I’m getting there.” Draco nodded and looked down at the handkerchief in his hand, wet with her tears. “There’s something that might make you feel even better. Come with me.” Ginny followed him with curiosity, wondering what on earth he could have that would do such a thing. They entered the drawing room where Draco picked up a package wrapped in silk cloth. “I had someone at the Daily Prophet who owed me a favor--I had him look for the issue it came out in.” Ginny stared at the package in puzzlement, and when Draco handed it at her, she only touched the silk. She was afraid to unwrap it and to see what Draco had gone at such lengths to get. Tenderly, she pulled apart the cloth. The cloth sank to the floor and she gasped. Tears started to build up all over again. In her hands was a frame, and inside the frame was the picture that appeared in the Daily Prophet of when her and her family went to Egypt. She looked up at Draco, who seemed uneasy at her reaction. “But why?” she asked. Draco glanced away and shrugged his shoulders. “You don’t have anything to remember them by, do you?” Ginny shook her head and clutched the frame to her chest. “I-I don’t know what to say-” Draco held up his hand. “Please, say nothing at all. The last thing I need is for a Weasley to get all mushy on me.” Ginny let out a laugh and finally smiled. “I think I can do that.” She glanced back down at the photo. “Is it all right if I have a few minutes alone?” Draco nodded and left the room, saying when he came back they could have tea. Ginny sank into an armchair and gazed down at her family, who excitedly waved at her. It was this man she was dependent on, and such a man would do such a thing for her. As she smiled down at her family, she felt her hatred for Draco ease away. ~*~ *runs from angry reviewers* Twice I stopped the ever progressing sex scene! Hell, one was a dream! Now, how many readers are ready to throw a shoe at me? *ducks head* Hey! That almost hit me! All right, I probably deserve it. I do like to tease, after all. But despite my antics, chapter five was not their chapter to have sex in; so that’s not to say that it will never happen…just when time allows it to. This chapter was a blast to write, but it caused me to work through a handful of chocolate and two glasses of wine. Just writing about Draco in such a manner makes you really think about that guy in your life, or in my sake, lack of guy. *sigh* Wouldn’t life be grand if we all had a Draco Malfoy to ourselves? I hope you enjoyed the D/G goodness in this chapter. Please review! Liz21 6. Chapter Six -------------- Greetings! Sorry for the long wait for this chapter—two days past the two week mark! It was mid-term week for me, so I’ve been rather busy. But with spring break next week, (woot!) I’ll be doing a lot of writing, so except chapter seven soon. Enjoy! Chapter Six Ginny had to resist from carrying the picture of her family with her everywhere. After Draco had given it to her, she spent hours staring at it, crying but with a soft smile on her face. She finally had her family back together again, and she couldn’t have been happier. All she needed now was a picture of Harry and Hermione, but she knew not to press her luck by asking Draco for those. It surprised her enough that he would do such a thing in the first place, and she didn’t want to ruin it for what it was worth. She put the picture frame on her nightstand**,** and when she woke the next morning, the first thing she saw was her family. They waved eagerly back at her and then went about their own business--Fred and George picking on Percy, and Bill tussling the younger Ginny’s hair. The only thing she didn’t like about the picture was the fact that Scabbers was in it. It was odd for her to watch Ron hold the rat in his hands, when in the end, Ron had killed Wormtail in one of the first real fights. Ginny moved to get out of bed when she heard her door open. Her body stiffened. The last time she heard it open while she was in bed, she was dreaming, and Draco had come to her. Ginny sat up quickly and looked at the door, but saw no one there. Puzzled, she sat up and was about to climb out of her bed, when Flipsy appeared so suddenly at her side that she yelped and fell back. “Flipsy!” Ginny gasped. “You scared me half to death!” “Flipsy is sorry, Miss,” said the house-elf. “Flipsy only wanted to tell Miss that her dress arrived this morning. Flipsy had to take it away from Master before he could open it.” Ginny smiled, not surprised that Draco had gotten curious enough to try to take a peek. “Well thank you,” she said. “You can just put it in my closet. Is there anything else you wanted?” Ginny knew the answer by the look on the house-elf’s face. Flipsy’s face dropped, and she twisted the shirt she wore. “There…there is something else,” Flipsy said, staring at her feet. “Flipsy does not know if it should be said. Master may not be happy with Flipsy.” Ginny got down from her bed and kneeled in front of Flipsy. “It’s okay, Flipsy,” Ginny said. “Whatever you have to say, I’m sure Malfoy doesn’t have to find out about.” Flipsy continued to wring her clothing. “But Miss, it’s about Master. He’s…” The house-elf shut her mouth and shook her head. Ginny’s eyes widened. “Is he sick?” she asked. She remembered him staying in his wet clothes while he took care of her. It crossed her mind that he might catch a cold, especially with his wet hair, but now that it could have happened, her stomach dropped. It was her fault he was ill again. The house-elf hesitated, and then shook her head. “Master is…Master is indisposed.” Ginny drew her head back in confusion. “Indisposed? What do you mean indisposed?” Was that some form of his illness? Was he so weak that he was delusional? Flipsy looked over her shoulder and then crouched very close to Ginny. “Master is,” she whispered, “drinking since last night, Miss.” Ginny almost laughed at the house-elf’s words. Draco wasn’t sick--he was drunk. The worry she felt at the bottom of her stomach left her, but the thought of him drunk at such an hour didn’t comfort her either. “What has he been doing drinking, especially this early?” At that, the house-elf covered her mouth with her hand and shook her head. Ginny sighed and stood up. “All right then; if you can’t tell me, will you take me to him?” Flipsy nodded and headed out of the room, not giving Ginny time to grab her robe to cover up her night shirt. Ginny followed the house-elf down the hall and towards the stairs. When they reached the bottom, Ginny started to head towards the room with the bar, but Flipsy went in the opposite direction. “He went this way after I hid the dress,” Flipsy said. “He doesn’t go here often, but he used to like the place as a boy.” Ginny’s first thought was the secret garden. She pictured a young Draco going to the room with his mother, and spending hours in there with her. But when Flipsy stopped at a wall between two portraits of Malfoy ancestors, Ginny’s curiosity heightened. She watched as the house-elf pushed in a brick near the left portrait, just as Ginny had for the secret passage-way by Narcissa’s picture. The wall moved to the side and created a make-shift door. When Ginny had suspected there to be a dark hallway, she gasped at the bright room in front of them. The smell of chlorine hit her nostrils and she took a step into the room, leaving Flipsy in the hallway. It was the pool room she had first found when she explored the secret passageway. It was a large room with a glass ceiling, where the sun was pouring in. A large pool was in the middle, with a smaller hot tub in the corner, and a bar and several couches placed along a wall opposite of the pool. And on one of those couches, next to the bar, lay Draco Malfoy. Ginny walked over towards him, her feet stepping in the occasional puddle. She studied Draco as she approached him. He lay with his back on the couch, with his arm over his eyes to hide the sunlight. The other hand held a nearly empty bottle of Firewhiskey. He was topless--again, she noticed--and his belt was halfway undone, as if he **[had]** wanted to go for a swim and then decided against it. Not saying a word, she held her breath as she approached him, and decided the first thing to do was to claim the bottle. She crouched down, level with Draco, and steered her hand towards the almost empty bottle as she kept her eyes on him. He appeared to be passed out, and made no acknowledgement of her presence. Very slowly, she wrapped her hand around the bottle, nearly touching Draco’s hand, and tugged at it. Draco tugged back. “Geroff,” he moaned. Ginny let go quickly in surprise and went to move back when she lost her balance and fell on her bottom. Draco moved his hand away from his eyes and peered down at her, squinting at her. “I can see up your shirt.” Ginny frantically covered her area with the shirt as her face blushed red. Making sure she was covered, she moved to her knees and knelt next to him. Draco refused to look her in the eye and turned his head the opposite direction. Ginny quickly grabbed the bottle once more, but he continued to hold on tightly. “Give it to me, Draco,” Ginny said patiently. Draco didn’t let go. “I almost did, but Snape had to ruin it.” Ginny’s heartbeat quickened at his reference. “What are you doing drunk?” she asked, changing the subject. Draco moved his head to drink out of the bottle, which Ginny was forced to let go of at his movement. He dribbled Firewhiskey on his chest as he drank from it. Ginny grimaced. “How can you drink that straight?” “You put it in your mouth and swallow,” he said as he dropped the now empty bottle. “Is not that hard,” he slurred. If the situation wasn’t what it was, she would have found it comical to see Draco in such a state. But she had a feeling deep down that his state was the cause of something that included her, and she couldn’t afford to laugh at him. “Drinking isn’t going to solve any problems,” she said. “But it does a hell of a job making you forget for the time being,” Draco said. He sat up so quickly that he groaned and cupped his head. Still holding his head, he struggled to stand up. Ginny stood up as well. “What do you think you’re doing?” She was hoping he was calling it a day, and would go to bed, but she didn’t think that was the case. Draco’s hand waved at the bar. “Need more,” he said. He tried to stand up again, but before he could Ginny pushed him back down. “Bloody hell, Weasley! What do you think you’re doing?” he snapped. Ginny stood before him and put her hands on her hips. “I’m not going to just stand by and watch you drink yourself to death,” she said. “You’ve had enough, Malfoy. You shouldn’t even be drinking in the first place.” Draco glared at her. “I’ll tell you when I’ve had enough,” he growled. He moved to stand up again, but Ginny tried to push him back down. While Ginny pushed on his shoulders, Draco grabbed her wrists to push her away, but instead fell back and dragged Ginny with him. Ginny landed on top of his lap, straddling him. Her face reddened and she immediately tried to get off, but paused when she felt something digging into her. Her breathing quickened as she dared herself to look Draco in the eye. His cheeks were tinged pink from the alcohol, but he no longer had a dazed look. He let go of her wrists and held on tight to her hips, and then, very slowly, he raised his hips and dug himself into her. Ginny gasped and turned red. She felt her body growing warm at Draco’s response to her being on top of him. Images of what happened between them, of him kissing her and touching her, rushed into her head, and she knew that her underwear was wet within a second. Draco must have known it too, because he released one hand and stuck it between his and her hips and dragged a fingertip over her panties. Ginny shuddered at his touch and grasped Draco’s shoulders, holding on tightly. He was touching her just as he had in her dream, and Merlin help her it excited her. She knew she shouldn’t let him touch her, that she should push him away and go back to her room, but she couldn’t move. She couldn’t move because deep down, she knew she wanted it. She wanted to feel what she had felt in her dream, whether she wanted him or not. When she made no move to stop him, she felt him bunch her underwear in his hand, and so easily ripped it off. Ginny gasped and looked at Draco. His eyes were half closed and his mouth was hanging open, and he held her gaze, even when she wanted to look away. She raised her hips off of his and dug her knees into the seat, giving him room to touch her properly. He took her hint and traced his fingertips along what her panties **just** had covered a moment ago. Ginny quivered as Draco moaned. “So wet,” he whispered huskily. “You’re so wet for me.” Ginny didn’t have time to respond before Draco dug two of his fingers into her. Ginny let out a moan and clutched onto his shoulders as she felt him curl them inside of her. “Oh!” she gasped as she felt him draw them back out of her, and then in again, this time with more force. After a moment of him doing such a movement, Ginny’s hips started to move with his fingers. She raised them up and down, riding his fingers, feeling them go in deeper each time she forced her hips down. She held on so tightly to Draco that her nails dug into his skin. She bit her lip and closed her eyes as she rode him, enjoying the sensations that were running through her body. All she could focus on was how good it felt, what he was doing to her, and she didn’t want him to stop. She felt Draco’s other hand snake up to her breast and grab it over her shirt, tweaking the nipple. Ginny moaned and opened her eyes to stare down at Draco. His breathing was heavy and came out in almost a pant. He licked his lips and squeezed her nipple once more before his hand left her to dig itself into her hair and force her head down to kiss him. He kissed her to the force of how she rode his fingers. Ginny gasped into his mouth as he nibbled her lip and kissed her hard, his tongue in her mouth. Ginny’s hands left his shoulders and went to cup his face, deepening the kiss that grew frantic. She tasted Firewhiskey off his breath, but she was too focused to mind the bitter taste. She felt her stomach knotting as he curled his fingers. Draco’s hand that buried her hair pulled her head back to give him access to her neck, which he bit and sucked. Ginny let out a cry and felt herself go over the edge, climaxing around his fingers that still dug inside of her. Her body sank on top of his as she rode the waves of the orgasm. She panted heavily into Draco’s ear, her head resting next to it. Her orgasm was far stronger than the one she had in her dream, and her body felt weak and drained from it. Though satisfied, she let out a moan in protest when she felt Draco take his fingers out of her. When the pleasure she felt started to fade away, it was replaced with shame. She straightened herself but didn’t look Draco in the eye. “That shouldn’t have happened,” she said, instead staring at his chest. “That shouldn’t have happened at all. You’re drunk--I, I shouldn’t have done that.” She hastily tried to get off of him, but he held on tight to her hips. “Don’t,” he said. “Here-” He grabbed his wand, which was on the cushion next to them. “Perform a Sobering Charm; though I quite assure you what just took place sobered me up enough.” Without answering, Ginny took his wand in her hand, and stared at it. She felt a surge of power from it in her hand. It was the first time she had held a wand in a long time, and she missed the feeling of it. She was aware of Draco watching her clutch it, and before he could take it back, she performed the charm. As she watched Draco sober up, and held onto the wand tightly, afraid he would take it back. It was the first magic she had done since before she was captured, and she never realized just how much she missed it until now. Draco gently cupped her hand that held his wand. “You miss it, don’t you?” he asked her. Ginny nodded and looked at him. “Magic is just as much a part of me as it is of you,” she said. “Without it, it feels like there’s a hole in me, and nothing can replace it.” Draco glanced at the wand, and let her hold it for another minute before he took it out of her hand. Placing it next to him, he took her hand into his own. “What if I told you that you could do magic again?” Ginny’s mouth hung open. “But I can’t,” she said. “I mean, you said my wand was broken, just like all the other prisoners. And you said it wasn’t allowed-” Draco squeezed her hand, silencing her. “What would you do to be able to do magic again?” “Why, I would do anything,” Ginny said quickly. Her heart raced at the thought of being able to do magic again. “I would do anything you asked. I would-” She paused at the look in Draco’s eyes, and what she felt growing underneath her hips. She heard Draco’s breathing quicken when he must have realized that she felt him against her. “Malfoy,” she said hesitantly. “What are you asking of me?” Draco put his hand on her hips and dug her into him. Ginny let out a gasp but then quickly covered her mouth. “That,” he said. “I don’t want you to hold back anymore. It’s obvious we both want each other, Ginny, and I don’t want to play these games anymore.” Ginny shook her head. “I don’t want you, Malfoy,” she said. “And I want you to stop calling me that,” Draco said, ignoring her. “I want you to call me by my first name, as I’ll be doing to you.” Ginny stared at him. The only time she had called him by his name was in her dream, when she was climaxing. She moved to get off his lap but he held her down. “Say it,” he said. “Say you’ll do what I ask.” She looked at him, with his blonde hair slightly messy. She stared into his gray eyes, still clouded from pleasure. She felt his arousal digging into her, and it took all her strength not to grind on him. “I’ll do it.” Draco held her for a moment longer, staring at her, before took his hands off her hips. Ginny climbed off, careful not to flash him, and found her legs trembling when she stood. She was going to pick up her discarded, ripped underwear, but aware of Draco watching her every move, she instead kicked it under the couch, next to where the empty bottle of Firewhiskey lay. “You never did say why you were drunk.” Draco too stared at the bottle. “It was a dream I had,” he said, not looking at her. “Of the war?” she asked. “Of what I lost in the war,” he said. He looked up at her. “Why don’t you go shower and then meet me for breakfast?” Ginny wanted to glare at him for telling her what to do, but she was planning on showering, and she needed a reason to leave. She nodded before walking away, leaving him on the couch, lost in his own thoughts. As she showered, she thought of his words, and tried to figure out what he could have lost in the war. From how she saw it, Draco only gained in the war. He had started as a weak, young Death Eater who couldn’t kill Dumbledore, and then transformed into a man who everyone feared. He had gained respect, power, and from all she knew more wealth. Though, he had lost his parents, but from what Ginny could tell the only death that affected him was Narcissa’s. He never spoke of Lucius. Ginny didn’t even know how he died, but she was thankful for it nonetheless. Ginny grabbed a cloth, and, wetting it with soap, she gingerly washed between her legs. She still felt sore from what Draco had done to her, but a good kind of sore. A sore knowing it was worth it from the pleasure she had felt. Ginny’s body tingled in remembrance of what had happened, of what Draco had given to her, and the pleasure of it was almost enough to wipe away the guilt and disgust she felt for doing it in the first place. She ran through theories of why she would be attracted to Draco in that way, but the only one she could settle on was the necklace. Only after she had seen the necklace did she kiss Draco, and then have the dream about him. She wondered if there was an attachment spell, and if it had attached her to Draco in such a way that she wanted him sexually. But she doubted that such a spell could do that, and started to think she was just desperate for excuses to look past her own guilt. It was the guilt she felt in knowing she never let Harry do that to her. Things with Harry were different. They were innocent, and her feelings were based off of a school-girl crush. But with Draco, things were wild and passionate. With Harry, she felt she had too many feelings that she didn’t want to ruin them with sex, but with Draco she had no feelings, and to her, that only excited her more when he was touching her. It was knowing that it was just about pleasure, and that complicated things like feelings didn’t have to get in the way. She turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around her. When she crossed her room to her closet, she glanced at the picture frame on her nightstand. Her family was waving to her again, and it made her cheeks blush. If only they knew what their precious Ginny had just done. She quickly walked past it and busied herself with changing. When she came down for breakfast, she found Draco had changed and freshened up. When he looked up from his plate as she entered the room, her face reddened and she glanced away. It amazed her that when his fingers were in her, doing such a personal thing, she was able to stare him in the eye, but now that time had passed she only felt embarrassment. She sat down and filled her plate with food, and was about to eat it when she noticed a long, thin box next to Draco’s plate. “What’s that?” she asked. Draco took a sip of his tea. “My end of the bargain,” he said. “That is, of course, only if you keep up yours. I can take it away if I feel like you’re not doing what you promised you would.” Ginny frowned at him. His words made no sense. She had promised him to call him by his first name, and to not hold back feelings—but she had no feelings to hold back. And for all that he had promised her magic. Ginny dropped her fork. “Malfoy, that isn’t what I think it is, is it?” Draco narrowed his eyes. “I haven’t even given it to you yet and you’re messing up our deal.” “I mean Draco,” she said quickly, hoping he wouldn’t get mad. “Sorry, I meant Draco.” Draco seemed to ease at her words. He picked up the box, and stared at it in his hands. He seemed to have wanted to say something, but he hesitated and instead handed her the box. Ginny thought she would have taken it and ripped the lid off, but she only held it in her hand. She was afraid to open it and find it wasn’t what she had expected, and she knew she would feel disappointed. Taking a breath, she opened the lid and let out a gasp and quickly grasped what was inside. “It’s my wand,” she said in a small voice. She looked at Draco with wide eyes. “But you said all the prisoners’ wands were broken in half. How did you-” Draco looked away. “I stole it when they caught you,” he said. “I’ve had it ever since.” Ginny’s heart pounded as she stared at the wand she had had since she was eleven. For Draco to do such a thing, to risk something like that, she knew then that he had wanted her as a prize for awhile. That it wasn’t just about infatuation, or wanting her on a whim. He had planned his owning her; he had planned to have her in the end. Ginny clutched the wand and held it to her chest. It had been so long since she had held it last. She felt she had just been given a part of her that was missing, and she finally felt complete. “I-I don’t know what to say,” she said. “There will be rules,” Draco said. “You can never use the wand on me, or there will be consequences. I don’t need to relive the Bat-Boogey incident.” Ginny would have grinned if she wasn’t so focused on her wand. It had been a present from her parents when she went to Hogwarts. Though they were tight on money, they didn’t know if a wand’s use would differentiate between sexes, and didn’t want to give her a hand-me down wand from one of her brothers. It had been her gift instead of an animal to take to school, and it was one of the first new things she had owned. She looked up and smiled. “Thank you…Draco.” Draco’s cheeks tinged pink and he looked away. “Just make sure not to let anyone know you have it,” he said. “If anyone found out I had given the last member of the Order a wand, I would be severely punished.” Ginny nodded. She would be extra careful--anything to make sure she wouldn’t lose her wand again. She set it down on the table next to her and went back to eating. Between bites she would glance at it, smiling at what was given to her. She felt what Draco had asked of her was a fair trade for such a gift. She was almost done when an idea came to her. “Mal-I mean, Draco,” she said, “Do you have a Pensieve?” She had been around Draco long enough to know how to read his body language. He stiffened at her question, and his eyes avoided hers for a moment. Without him answering her, she knew the answer was a yes, and it was something he didn’t want her to have. “Why do you ask?” he said. Ginny grasped her wand. “It’s just, now that I have a wand, I can extract memories from myself. I would be able to see my family again, and my friends, and-” “And Potter,” Draco growled. “Absolutely not. Such things will only make you hold on to the past, when you should be moving on.” He got up from his seat as if his word was final. Ginny got up as well and reached over and grabbed his arm, stopping him before he could move. “Please, Draco,” she said. She hated the sound of begging in her voice. “It’s only a step up from the picture you gave me. I just…I just want to see them one last time. Maybe if I do, I can get some closure and move on.” Draco was silent as he watched her. Ginny felt his muscles tighten underneath her grasp. “If I do this,” he said finally, “would you never bring up their names again? Will you never say Potter’s name again in this house?” Ginny opened her mouth, but she didn’t know what to say. She knew Draco hated her talking about her loved ones, but it comforted her being able to talk about it to someone. And they were always in some corner of her mind, and at times she had difficulty in thinking before she spoke. What would happen if she made the deal, and then accidentally spoke of them? What would Draco do then? “I promise you’ll never hear of them again,” she said. She felt Draco relax, and then he nodded. He gently removed her hand and then started to walk out of the room. “I’ll come get you in fifteen minutes,” he said. “Wait here.” Ginny watched him leave. Thoughts were flying through her head. Why did he leave her here, instead of taking her straight to the Pensieve? She wondered if he was trying to hide something--a memory that was already in the device. Ginny’s body itched to follow him. He told her to wait. If she was only patient, she would get what she asked for, but that damn curiosity of hers soon overwhelmed her. Draco was hiding something, and she wanted to find out what it was. Ginny’s feet began to move out of the room before she could stop herself. She didn’t know what her plan was--she didn’t even know where she was going, or where Draco might have gone. And even if she did find the proper room, what then? How was she supposed to spy on Draco, and then get back down to the dining room without getting caught? She walked up the stairs and headed for his room. She didn’t recall seeing a Pensieve in there when she nursed him back to health, but it was a shot. She walked down the hallway and soon approached his room. She was about to inch open the door when a light from down the hall caught her eye. Ginny paused and looked ahead. There was a door at the end of the hall with its door open enough to let a silver light shine through. Ginny’s heart quickened and she slowly walked towards the door, careful not to make a sound. When she approached the door, she peered inside. The room was large, and contained a desk filled with papers, several bookcases, and glass cases. There was a fire place on one side, and in the back corner of the room was Draco, standing next to a Pensieve. Her heart quickened--she knew where she was. This was Draco’s study, the one room she had never been in. She was careful not to touch the doorknob, as Draco once told her it was charmed to not let her in. She instead nudged the door itself, opening it a tad more so she could get a better view. She cringed as the door squeaked, but Draco made no sign of hearing her. Letting out a breath, Ginny stood still and watched him. He was hovering over the Pensieve with his wand out. Silver light shone from the bowl, lighting up his face and his blonde hair. He stuck his wand into the bowl and slowly pulled out a thread of a memory, and stored it into a vial in his hand. He did so several times, and each time he did it, the curiosity in Ginny grew. She wanted to know what he was hiding that was so important that she couldn’t see it. His wand hesitated suddenly, and Draco stared into the bowl. He reached his hand out as if to touch the liquid and to be dragged into the memory, but he stopped quickly. He looked around him, and then before Ginny’s eyes, he touched the liquid and was pulled into the Pensieve. Ginny waited until he was fully inside for her to enter the room. She hesitated before walking inside the study--she knew Draco couldn’t see or hear her, but she didn’t know how long he’d be in his memory for. And all she wanted was a quick look at what he was looking at. She passed the desk that was full of parchment. Her eyes skimmed over a black book that looked to be a diary, making her shudder. She would have given anything that moment to be given a look inside Draco’s mind, but if that meant she had to pick up a diary, then she wasn’t interested. Instead she grabbed at a piece of parchment next to it. It contained boring information over a Malfoy estate in the south of France. Ginny rolled her eyes at the thought of Draco being even richer than she thought he already was. When she picked up another parchment containing information of a summer home in Sicily, she let out an agitated sigh and moved to the other side of his desk. She pushed his chair back, fighting the temptation to sit in it. In fact, she shouldn’t have been wasting her time by snooping around, but she felt compelled to. She tried to pull open a desk drawer, but found it locked, and an Alohomora spell wouldn’t open it. Ginny tried two more drawers, and with no success, her agitation grew. This was her one shot to figure out all she could about Draco Malfoy, and she was coming up with nothing. She moved away from the desk and towards the Pensieve when she noticed a picture frame on the desk. She grabbed the frame, but found it empty, the person away for the moment. Ginny stared at the background--she saw it was of the lake at Hogwarts. It looked to be spring, and the giant squid had two tentacles out of the water. Pink flowers blew past the frame in a gasp of wind, and the sky was a light blue with only one cloud in it. Ginny smiled down at the frame. It reminded her of her days at Hogwarts, and of how much she missed them. A noise came from the Pensieve, making Ginny drop the frame in surprise. She looked up to see a silver light shining--Draco was coming out of the bowl. Quickly, Ginny stepped over the broken glass of the frame and ducked underneath the desk, wrapping her arms around her knees to make sure she was covered. She heard Draco’s footsteps and a sigh from him--he was now out of the Pensieve, and she was trapped. She held her breath and waited to hear him walk out of the room, but he seemed to have been standing still, because she heard no other noise from him. Seconds were stretched as she tried to make no movement or sound. She tried to figure out how she was going to get away; if she was going to get caught. She wondered if he would punish her, or perhaps take her wand away. Ginny clutched the wand in fear. She had only just gotten it--she couldn’t bear to part with it again. Ginny’s head picked up at the sound of Draco’s footsteps, but her heart dropped to her stomach when she realized he was coming towards her. The steps stopped right next to the desk. Ginny peeked her head out an inch and saw the tip of his black shoes. “What the…” she heard him mutter before she saw him crouch down and pick up the frame she had dropped. She watched his hand pick up the glass, and putting it into place on the frame, he pointed his and said, “Reparo.” The frame became solid. Draco stood back up, and Ginny heard him put the frame back on the desk. He then walked away and his footsteps carried him out of the room. Ginny gave it a few seconds before she popped her head out from under the desk and looked around. Draco was nowhere in sight. She scrambled out from the desk, and went to run towards the door in hopes to sneak out, when her footsteps halted by the edge of the desk. She was staring at the photo frame, noticing its occupant had come back. Ginny’s stomach dropped as she watched the person waving at her. It was a picture of herself. Ginny’s hand shook as she clutched the frame and pulled it in for a closer look. Now she knew why the setting seemed so familiar--she had asked Colin during her sixth year to take the picture of her. She was in her school uniform, and she had taken off her robe because it was warm out. Ginny watched herself blush at the camera and then give a big smile. Disgust rolled in her stomach. That smile had been directed at Draco for however long he had the photo sitting on his desk. Ginny put it back on the desk, wishing she had never touched it. Thoughts were running through her head, but she had to fight the urge to throw up and she pushed her legs forward. At the moment, she had to take care of getting out of the room, and then she could deal with what she just saw. She ran from the door of the study, thankful it was open, and down the hall. She just reached her room when she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Ginny slipped inside her room and ran for the bathroom. She had just closed the door behind her and settled her back against it when she heard a knock on her bedroom door. “Ginny?” she heard Draco ask. “Are you in here?” “I’m-I’m in here,” she said between gasps of breath. She placed her hand over her heart, praying for it to calm down. “What are you doing in there?” Draco asked. His voice came from the other side of the door. “I thought I told you to wait in the dining room.” Ginny glanced at the toilet. “I felt sick,” she said. “I-I think it was something I ate.” Silence answered her. Ginny clutched onto her wand and held her breath. He knew she was lying. He must have seen her under the desk, or noticed that when she wasn’t in the dining room, that she was in the study all along. If only she hadn’t knocked over the picture of herself, then she would have left no clue that she was there. “I’ll have Flipsy give you something for your stomach,” Draco finally answered. “And then if you’re feeling better, do you still want to do the Pensieve?” Ginny’s heart slowed down. He believed her, or at least bought her excuse. She was clear, but that was an easy thought when Draco stood on the other side of the door. She was sure that moment she saw him, knowing he had a picture of her after all these years, her face would give her away. And now he still wanted to do the pensive, when all she wanted to do was hide in the bathroom from him. “I,” she started to say, but stopped to take a deep breath. She knew she would have to face him eventually, but at the moment her mind was too jumbled. But despite it all, she still wanted to see her family. And maybe if she could get away with it, she could look into the few memories she had of him back at school, and see when his obsession with her had started. Because that’s what Ginny was being to feel like it was. She was beginning to wonder if it was a coincidence that she managed to stay alive in the war, and how much of a part Draco had played before he asked for her as his prize. “Yes,” she finally said. “Yes, let’s do that tonight.” When Ginny heard nothing in reply, she thought he had gone and slouched down onto her knees and bowed her head. All she had wanted was to find out more about Draco, but instead everything she was finding included her. She didn’t know how much more of it she could take. She stood up with shaky limbs and went to the sink, wetting her face with cold water. She blindly grabbed a towel and dried her face before she headed to the door. What she needed was a nap; sleep would help the situation. She reached her bed before she realized that Draco was still in her room. She almost let out a gasp at seeing him sitting in the chair next to her bed, but bit her lip. “What do you want?” she asked, trying not to sound frightened or surprised. Draco stood up and straightened his robe. “Just making sure you’re all right,” he said. He frowned at her. “You do look awfully pale. Let me feel your forehead.” Ginny winced as he went to touch her, and it made him stop. His frown deepened, followed by his eyebrows burrowing. He went to touch her face again, but this time Ginny looked away and stiffened. “What’s gotten into you?” he asked. “Just this morning you were on top of me, and now you can’t bear for me to touch you.” Ginny stared at the comforter on her bed, trying to keep her breathing calm. She knew he would notice a difference in her, but she couldn’t fake it. She couldn’t forget what she had seen on her desk, and now he would know the truth. She saw Draco take a step closer. “Were you in your bathroom this whole time?” he asked. “When did you leave the dining room?” Ginny’s heart quickened; she felt sweat collect on her forehead. “Several minutes after you left,” she said, still staring at her bed. “You can ask Flipsy--she saw me to my room.” The lie was out before she could stop it. Now she did feel ill. What if Draco had done just that--what if he went as far as asking the house-elf? Then he would know that Ginny had lied, and that she had been in the study the whole time. Ginny sneaked a glance at Draco, and found him staring at her. “No, that’s not necessary,” he said. “I’ll have Flipsy give you a potion, but then I want you to be back to normal.” Ginny nodded her head. Normal meant she couldn’t fidget around him. Normal to him probably meant she would have to act how she did this morning, but she didn’t think she could manage that either. Far from it, actually. When Draco finally left the room, Ginny collapsed on the bed, feeling drained. She lay there for a moment before she rolled over and looked at the picture frame on her bed stand. A whole new roll of questions came out--how long had Draco had the picture of her? How did he manage to get it? And just how long had he wanted her? Ginny curled up into a ball and hugged one of her pillows. She found the truth was necessary, but right now, it was more than she could handle. ~*~ I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter! Thanks and please review! Liz21 7. Chapter Seven ---------------- There’s a minor H/G scene at the end. Very minor—won’t make you gag, or anything, and it’s important to the story. Enjoy! Chapter Seven Flipsy had come into her room shortly after Draco had left, and had given her a potion for her stomach. Ginny had asked why she had come, when she was told that house-elves weren’t allowed to give out potions in Malfoy Manor. She was grateful the house-elf came instead of Draco, and she trusted her, but she remembered of how Flipsy said she had to give Draco a potion to get better. Flipsy hesitated when Ginny asked her this, and said it was okay, that Master had checked the potion for poison. Then she cut off Ginny’s questions by putting the vial to her mouth. Her stomach, ill from seeing a picture of herself on Draco’s desk, did feel better after the potion, but couldn’t settle down. How could one be calm after seeing such a thing? She remembered telling Colin how the picture was meant for Harry. Did Harry have it on him the night of his death, and that’s how Draco got a hold of it? But that would mean that Draco was there the night Voldemort murdered Harry and Ginny refused to think of such a thing. She couldn’t imagine having kissed the man who watched Harry be tortured and killed. At the thought, she knew she would have been sick if it wasn’t for the potion. She sat in bed all day, every moment waiting for Draco to appear. It unnerved her knowing that she would have to see him again, and that he expected her to be ‘normal’. In the beginning, she was able to look past him asking for her as a prize, because she had thought he would torture her. It was unnatural that that thought was normal for her. She could have accepted the pain, because it was the norm from a Malfoy. It was how Malfoys were supposed to treat Weasleys. Anything other was just wrong and went against so many things. When it was apparent he wasn’t going to torture her, she was able to look past it as seeing that he changed, and with him being nice to her on occasions, it was easy to look past the oddness. Even when they were naked and kissing, Ginny was able to look past being intimate with her enemy, and based it off of simple attraction. But this, finding a picture of herself on his desk, went against everything she had been able to look past. The picture was a symbol of his obsession of her. It wasn’t just about revenge and torture for him, like she thought in the beginning. It wasn’t just about getting something out of a Malfoy owning a Weasley. And it wasn’t just about a sexual attraction. That one picture showed Ginny that Draco’s feelings for her went much deeper than simply wanting her. She had a picture of her family because she cared for them; she loved them and wanted to see them everyday. So for Draco to have a picture of her only meant he had borderline feelings, except that his were never earned or deserved to be there. Ginny rolled over to stare at her family. She remembered being ten, and finding a picture of Harry in the Daily Prophet. There was an article written about him going to Hogwarts, and the article was accompanied by a photo of him shopping with Hagrid. Ginny had cut out the photo and placed it next to her bed, so she could see it every morning when she woke up. She couldn’t wait for Ron to come home, because in a letter to her he had mentioned how he was friends with Harry, and even teased her about her silly crush. Only, when Ron did come home, he made fun of her for having the photo, calling it creepy and unnatural. He said that Harry was his best friend and didn’t deserve to be treated that way, and then took the photo from her and ripped it up. Years later, Ginny was able to see that it was odd, and that her school-girl crush had turned into an obsession. And now, after seeing the picture of herself, she felt she was seeing it from Ron’s point of view, and only saw it in one way--disturbing. She wanted to go back into the study and rip it up herself, but at the moment she couldn’t bring herself to move. A knock sounded on her door. She didn’t answer, though. She knew who it was and what he wanted, but she wanted nothing to do with him. Through her silence, Draco didn’t knock again, and she thought that he had given up when she heard the door open. “I’ll let your rudeness slide on account of you being ill,” she heard Draco drawl. She willed herself not to stiffen at his voice, but continued to stare at her family, asking for their support to comfort her. She heard Draco approach the bed. “Are you feeling better after that potion?” Draco asked. “Yes,” Ginny muttered into her pillow. “Yes, thank you.” She didn’t know what else to say. She wondered how long she could avoid looking at him before he either got angry, or noticed something was wrong. “The Pensieve is ready,” Draco said. “It’s best if we do it now before dinner, in case you get sick again from eating.” Ginny glanced towards the window, noticing that it did seem later in the day. How long had she been lying on her bed like that? Taking one last look at her family, Ginny let go of her pillow and sat up. She managed to climb down from her bed without looking at Draco, though she could feel him staring at her. She walked out of her room with Draco following her, and started to head for the study when she stopped. Her heart was pounding and this time she did look at Draco, to see if he noticed her heading for a room she wasn’t supposed to know was there. Draco was studying her, but after a moment didn’t say a word. “It’s this way,” he said, leading the way down the hall. “Be careful not to touch the door knob, or you’ll get shocked.” Ginny nodded as she followed him. When they approached his study, he held the door open for her, and she tried to thank him, but was too unnerved to speak. When she entered the room, her eyes immediately darted over to the desk to find the frame, but saw it was gone. She looked at Draco and found him watching her, making her jump slightly and look away. She could tell that Draco wanted to say something, but instead he led her to the Pensieve. “I’ll allow you to do a few memories, but nothing that will take up too much of my time,” he said. “And I’m going with you.” This time Ginny was able to look at him without discomfort. “What do you mean you’re coming with me?” she asked. “This is personal--these are my memories!” Draco narrowed his eyes at her. “Do you want to see them or not?” Ginny opened her mouth to yell at him and tell him of course she did, but for him to keep out of her business, but instead she glared at him. “Fine,” she said. “But you may not like what you see.” Draco matched her glare, but was silent as Ginny started to gather a memory. Wanting to see her family first, she pulled out her last memory of them, and put it into the bowl. She looked up at Draco. “Are you ready?” Draco nodded and grabbed her hand. Ginny fought a shudder at his touch and put her own hand into the liquid, feeling it pull her and Draco into the bowl. After feeling like she was going to fall forever, she landed softly in a small room. Draco fell next to her, only now they weren’t holding hands. Ginny knew where she was before she looked around. It was her bedroom in the Burrow, and it was of the night before it was burned to the ground. She felt Draco nudge her, and she looked over to see him staring at the bed in the corner. Ginny looked over and saw herself, only about two months younger. She seemed healthier then, what with still living at home and her whole family being alive. “Is this when I think it is?” Draco asked her, his voice low. Ginny nodded. “It’s a matter of hours before Voldemort came,” she said; her voice shook for a second. “Then what are you doing here?” Draco asked. Ginny went to answer when suddenly an owl flew through the window. Ginny watched as her younger self jumped off her bed and sped over to the owl, quickly untying the letter from the leg. The owl left without waiting for a response. She felt Draco tense next to her. “Is that a letter from Potter?” he asked. Ginny frowned as she watched herself read the letter. “I-I don’t really remember,” she said. “No, it couldn’t have been, because I ended up going to Diagon Alley.” Before Ginny could guess on who it was, Ron opened the door. Ginny let out a cry at seeing him in the flesh, and she went to run over and hug him, when Draco stopped her by grabbing onto her arm. “He’s not real, Ginny,” he said into her ear as he held her down. “Remember? He’s dead. Dammit, I knew this was a bad idea.” Ginny tried to squirm out of Draco’s hold to get to her brother, but as she watched him talk to the Ginny with the letter in her hand, sense started to pour into her. Of course Draco was right--this was only a memory. Ginny stilled in Draco’s grasp and tried to calm her beating heart. She had almost lost it there at a glance of one family member--was she sure she could handle seeing the rest? Ginny busied herself away from her thoughts as she watched Ron try and grab the letter out of the younger Ginny’s hand. “Don’t, Ron!” Ginny said. “What did Mum say about trying to read my letters?” Ron went to grab it again, but Ginny shoved the letter down her pants, making Ron grimace. “Real mature, Gin,” he said, pouting that he had lost. “And Mum must not notice how many of these letters you get a week. We’re in a war, Gin. You can’t afford to be communicating with Harry like you are. It’s too risky.” “It wasn’t from Harry,” Ginny said. “It’s from Luna. She wants me to meet her at Diagon Alley soon.” “Absolutely not,” Ron said, crossing his arms. “You know Mum won’t let you go out by yourself.” Ginny watched her younger self open her mouth to yell back, when two people popped their heads inside. Ginny felt Draco tighten his grip on her when she saw it was Fred and George. “Mum says come down and help set up for dinner,” Fred said. “Both of you.” Ron turned to Fred and pointed at Ginny. “She thinks she can go to Diagon Alley!” George let out a laugh. “Nice one, Gin. Don’t really see Mum fancying that idea.” “Maybe if we come with you, you can go,” Fred said. “Mum won’t like the idea of you going by yourself. It’s too risky.” The younger Ginny glared at all three men. “No, you guys can’t come with, and I’ll be perfectly fine by myself. I just went last week to get food!” “That’s because it was in the middle of the day,” Fred pointed out. “And one of us would have come with, but we were all on duty.” Ginny opened her mouth to yell, but was interrupted by Molly calling at them to come down the stairs and help with dinner. With a glare, Ginny pushed past her brothers, and Ginny and Draco were forced to follow. As they walked down the flight of stairs, Ginny glanced over to see Draco looking all around him. When they entered the living room with the mismatched furniture and the tiny space, Ginny knew exactly what was going on through his head. Thankfully, though, Draco kept his mouth shut, and raised an eyebrow at her when he found her staring at him. “What?” he asked. Ginny was saved from answering when they entered the busy kitchen. She felt her heart break at the sight of her family all in one room, after Ron, Fred, and George piled in the kitchen after Ginny. She watched her parents over the stove cooking dinner, and Bill and Charlie setting down plates. Even Percy was helping out by grabbing bread out of the cabinet. She felt Draco’s hand clutch her shoulder, and it was only then did Ginny realize she was crying. “We can leave, if you want,” Draco said to her. “Maybe we should--I think it’s too much for you.” Ginny shook her head as she wiped her tears. “No, I need to see this,” she said. “I need to see them--I missed them.” Draco was silent, but he didn’t let go of her. Ginny turned her attention away from him and towards her family. “What’s this about you wanting to go to Diagon Alley?” Molly said to Ginny, who was standing between Ron and the twins. Molly pointed at the twins. “You two, put down some silverware.” “It’s only for an hour or so,” Ginny said. “Luna owled me and said she wanted to meet for dinner. You know I haven’t seen her in ages, Mum.” Molly continued to stir a stew. “Have her come here, then. We’ll set an extra place for her.” “It’s for her birthday, though,” Ginny said quickly. “And she needs to interview the restaurant owner, anyways, for some article her dad wants.” Arthur looked up from slicing a chicken. “I don’t know, Gin. There was a raid there just two weeks ago-” “And I went last week and I was fine,” Ginny said quickly. “Look, I can even owl you when I’m on my way home, so you know when to expect me.” Ginny stopped watching her younger self and looked over at Draco. “This is so odd,” she said with a frown. “I can’t for the life of me remember what happened at Diagon Alley. All I remember is this right now, and then coming back.” “It must be from shock,” Draco said. He took a look around the room. “To see all this go down…I’d probably forget what I just did as well.” He looked back at Ginny. “Why did you pick this memory? It seems you’re mostly fighting with your family; I’m sure you have better memories than this.” Ginny shrugged her shoulders. “I wanted to see them as I last remembered them.” She turned to gaze at her family, and gave a soft smile. “Despite all of our fighting, I loved them so much.” Draco gave her a squeeze, as if to comfort her, and Ginny welcomed it. She stared at herself, who had just grabbed a cloak from a hanger and wrapped it around herself. Ginny felt herself start to cry all over again when she watched herself kiss her mum and dad goodbye, and wave at her brothers. If only she had known that it was the last time she’d see them, then she would all hug them once more. But if she had known that that night, they were all going to die, Ginny didn’t know if she would have stayed or not to be with them. Ginny saw herself head for the door, and she knew they would have to follow or leave the memory. Ginny ignored herself and continued to stare at her family, drinking up every last detail she could about them. Ron was glowering after Ginny; Fred and George were fencing with two table knives. Bill and Charlie were laughing at them, and even Percy smiled, despite how serious he tried to look. Ginny’s stomach dropped in a dreadful realization that had not hit her until the sight of her brother. Percy had been distant from her family for so long, even after the war had started. But it had been Ginny who convinced him to come back home; she had begged him to come home, even if it was just for dinner. She had told him the importance of family in times of need, and how they all needed each other. Ginny placed her hand over her mouth; she felt like she was going to be sick. “Oh no,” she mumbled. “Oh, Merlin, no.” Draco turned her to face him. “What’s the matter?” he asked, trying to look her in the face. “Are you ill?” Ginny barely nodded her head before Draco pulled out his wand. In a flash, they were out of her memory and back in his study. The moment they were on the floor Ginny buckled to her knees and hid her face behind her hands. “I killed him,” she cried. “It’s my fault he’s dead.” Draco knelt in front of her and grabbed at her hands to move them aside, but she wouldn’t budge. “What are you talking about?” he asked. “Ginny, you know it’s not your fault of what happened. You staying there wouldn’t have stopped the Dark Lord.” Ginny shook her head and let out a sob. “It was me that made Percy come home for dinner that night,” she said. “He-he was busy at the Ministry, but I owled him, telling him that we needed him there.” Ginny looked up at Draco. “I do that and then I just leave. I left him to die.” Draco quickly shook his head. “But if you stayed you would have died too,” he said. “What if he thought that before he died?” Ginny went on. “What if when everyone else was being murdered around him, he knew that if he didn’t listen to me, he would have been safe?” She let out another sob, and her body trembled. Before she could fight it, she felt Draco wrap his arms around her and pull her into his chest. But once she was there, her face muffled into his robe and her frail body protected by his arms, she didn’t care anymore. She didn’t care that he had a picture of her on his desk. She didn’t care that he had some deep obsession with her, and that he was now touching her. All she could do was give in to the security she felt from him and just cry. He held her as her body shook. Ginny bunched her hands into his robe, and hung on for dear life. She thought she could handle seeing her family again. She was able to look at the picture of them everyday; why was the memory so different? She started to regret choosing the memory she did. Would it have been easier if it wasn’t of the night of their murders? A whole new set of tears came on at the guilt she felt for leaving her family that night. Draco was right--if she stayed, she would have died as well, but then her family would have been whole, just like she told Percy. But as quick as the guilt set in, something else arose in her. Questions started to flood her mind, ones she hadn’t thought of asking since their death, and they were all directed at the person who was holding her. Ginny let go of Draco’s robe and moved back far enough to look him in the eye. “Did you know?” she asked. “Did you know that my family was going to die?” Draco was silent, and simply stared at her. She felt his arms let go of her, leaving her weak and vulnerable. “Does that really matter?” he finally said. Ginny’s body shuddered, knowing the answer by his question. She took a breath and willed herself not to cry anymore. “Just answer the question, Draco. Did you know my family was set to be murdered that night? And that I was supposed to die as well?” This time Draco looked away, and his avoidant eyes was the confirmation to the dread she felt at the pit of her stomach. She should have expected it awhile ago, maybe even the first night she spent at Malfoy Manor, when she learned that he was responsible for the capture and death of Harry. And then not too long ago she had learned that he had killed Hermione, and there were probably countless other people that she loved that he murdered or tortured. The sadness and the guilt she felt were quickly being replaced by anger. Everything in her life had been destroyed, and wherever death and destruction was involved, Draco was there. Maybe when he said he won her to torture her he was right, because at the moment, it was killing her to be so close to someone who destroyed everyone she loved. Her body shook with the anger she felt; she bunched her fists into balls and she glared at Draco. He must have felt it, because he finally looked back into her face. “Ginny-” Ginny raised her hand and slapped him. His head moved to the side from the blow, and she saw by the look of shock in his face and by his red cheek that she had hurt him, but it wasn’t enough. One slap wasn’t nearly enough to make him feel every bit of pain he had caused her. Ginny balled her fists and hit his chest, over and over again. She wanted to scream at him; she wanted to tell him how much she hated him. But all she could do was try to hurt him, and it was something that she was getting no relief from. Only when she started to grow weary of hitting him did she realize that he was letting her. His hands weren’t on her, trying to pull her off, or trying to block her fists. He just simply knelt there, taking everything she had to give to him, and not saying a word about it. Tears started to fall all over again when she realized that no amount of hitting or slapping would make things better. And when she felt Draco’s arms encircle her once more, all she could do was give up the fight and crawl back into his chest. Her cries were silent as she clung onto him. She hated him for what he had done, and she hated herself for seeking comfort from him, but he was all she had left. He had let everyone die around her, and left her with only him. Slowly, the tears stopped. Ginny sniffled into his robe, conscious that it was now wet from her crying. Once she knew that she was fine, or at least better than she was a moment ago, she let go of Draco. He too released her and just watched her as she wiped her eyes and wet cheeks. His silence unnerved her, but she welcomed it at the same time. Before she could feel awkward at the situation, Draco stood up and gave her his hand to help her. She took it, and once they were both standing, Ginny glanced at the Pensieve. “I want to do one more memory.” Draco shook his head. “Absolutely not. You’ve had enough for today.” “And that’s why a little more won’t hurt,” Ginny said. “I just…I need to get it out of my system. I saw my family, and it was more heart-wrenching than I could have imagined, but I still saw them and know I’m okay with not seeing them again. I don’t think I could see them again, if I wanted to, but as hard as it was, that was my closure.” She stopped and took a breath. “I just need to see one last person, and then I promise I’ll never step near that Pensieve again.” Draco stared at her, and then back at the bowl. “You’ll promise that?” he asked. “That on top of never speaking of their names again?” Ginny bit her lip, but nodded. “I just need to do this one thing. And then I’m done.” Draco was silent for a moment, and just stared at the Pensieve, before he sighed. “Let’s do it then. But I don’t want another memory of your family. I don’t think you could take anymore of them.” Ginny nodded and stepped up to the bowl. She placed the tip of her wand on her temple, and after a moment’s thought, she pulled out a silver thread and placed it into the bowl. Before she could give Draco a chance to see what it was of, she grabbed his arm and touched the liquid. They landed in a dark, drafty room. It smelt of water, though to Ginny’s knowledge, there was none around. She felt Draco’s hand grope her arm, trying to find her. “Where are we?” he asked. Ginny opened her mouth to answer, but just then a fire lit in a small fire pit and filled up the room, or what little of a room it was. There was a single bed and a desk with parchment sprawled on top the surface. Maps were hung on the wall, but it was the wall that drew Ginny’s attention. It was not of wallpaper or any typical wall material—it was a cave. She saw Draco looking around, and then glance up at the cave ceiling. “We’re in a cave,” he said. He looked at the bed and pointed at it. “And there’s a bed. What’s a bed doing in a cave?” But Ginny ignored him, because in a moment his question would be answered. Just then, two people walked into the room, their shadows bouncing off the wall. Ginny braced herself as she saw Draco stiffen in recognition of the people. She herself wrapped her arms around her as she stared at Harry and her younger self, roughly the same age as she was in the last memory. “You shouldn’t be here, Gin,” Harry said as he led her over to the desk. He shuffled a few papers and then sat down in the chair. Ginny and her younger self frowned at him, at how sick and tired he looked. His face was pale, with bags under his eyes, and he was as thin as ever. The younger Ginny took a seat on the bed. “I haven’t seen you since you came here,” she said. “And I know Ron and Hermione have been here before, so don’t give me that.” “But Ron and Hermione didn’t come alone,” Harry said. “If something would have happened-“ “Nothing did,” Ginny said. “Harry, you’re practically in the backyard of the Burrow. I should be able to see you every night if I want to. It’s not good for you to be alone in here.” The younger Ginny paused and looked around the room. “I don’t like it in here—how can you stand it?” Harry shrugged. “It’s not so bad after your father fixed it up. And your mum found a good spell to keep the bats out.” The younger Ginny got off the bed, went to Harry, and knelt in front of him. She took his hands and her frown increased. “Why can’t you stay at the Burrow with the rest of us? You know any of us will be your Secret Keeper.” Ginny watched as Harry’s body grew rigid and he let go of Ginny’s hands and stood up. He walked across the room, and then back. “You know I don’t trust Secret Keepers, Gin,” he said. “Not after what happened to my parents.” Ginny stood up and watched him pace. “But if you’d only come for dinner once in awhile-” Harry stopped and shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. Don’t you remember what happened last time I was around someone? They died. Neville died because he was with me.” “And that was a risk Neville chose to take,” Ginny said. “And they would have killed him anyways, Harry. They’re targeting all the members of the Order just as they are you.” But Harry just shook his head at her remark. He looked around the room and then back at her. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said. “I can’t risk that. I can’t risk-” The younger Ginny crossed the room towards him and silenced him with a kiss. Ginny felt Draco grow rigid next to her, and for the first time since Harry entered the room, she snuck a look at Draco. His face was solid, but she saw the red in his cheeks and the glare in his eye as he watched the pair. Ginny glanced down and saw his fists rolled in balls, and they were shaking. She wanted to touch him, to tell him it was all right, but after all the hurt he had caused her, she knew this was the only way she could properly hurt him in return. He had his moments; she was now going to let hers happen for what it was worth. She looked over to the couple and saw Ginny pull away. It was just a short kiss, one she knew was used often just to silence Harry during his rants. It seemed to have worked, as Harry took a breath and his body grew less rigid. He even gave a small smile. “I needed that,” he said. Ginny gave him a smile in return and then hugged him. “I miss you, Harry,” she said, her words slightly muffled as she dug her face into the side of his neck. She pulled back and looked him in the face. “How much longer do you have to be in here?” Harry rested his hands on her hips. He shrugged his shoulders. “Until I can think of some new strategies. Whatever I’m doing now isn’t working. I’m growing weaker by the fight while Voldemort is only getting stronger.” Harry sighed. “I wish Remus was still here. He was always good at coming up with plans.” “I visited his grave last week,” Ginny said. “Him and the others.” Harry opened his mouth but Ginny put her finger over his lips. “Ron came with me, don’t worry.” Harry nodded, and then to both Ginny’s surprise, he kissed the finger on his lips. “Harry, I-” Ginny said, drawing back her finger. But she didn’t get a chance to say anything before Harry pulled her close and kissed her hard. “That’s it,” Draco growled next to her. He grabbed onto Ginny’s arm. “We’re leaving. Now.” Ginny scowled at him. “No we’re not,” she said, tearing her eyes away from the kissing pair. “I’m not done yet.” “If you think I’m going to stand here and watch you get it on with Potter-” “Jealous?” Ginny hissed. Her eyes widened. It was out before she could think about what she was implying: that he did have feelings for her, or at least wanted her enough to be crazed at what he was seeing. It must have hit home, because Draco’s grip on her tightened and his face burnt red. “Why would I be jealous over something I’ve already had?” Ginny glared at him and tore her arm away from his grasp. “Don’t touch me,” she snapped. “Our deal was to see this memory and then I’ll never see Harry or speak of him again. And I’m not ready to leave yet, so deal with it.” Draco went to grab her arm again, but Ginny slapped his hand away. Draco drew back, only to come at her again, this time using both hands. Ginny tried to push him away, but he managed to wrap both arms around her, holding her tight. Ginny squirmed, trying to get lose. “Malfoy, let go,” she said, finding it hard to breathe. “You can’t make me go.” “I can do what I want,” Draco hissed into her ear, their faces now close. “You seem to have forgotten who makes the rules here, and if you think you can boss me around-” “Harry, no.” Both Ginny and Draco stopped talking and stared at each other in confusion before they turned to look at the couple who had moved onto the bed. Ginny was lying on the bed, her hair messy, and Harry was on top of her, breathing hard. “What?” Harry asked before bending down to kiss her again, but Ginny only moved her head to the side. “I said I can’t,” she said. She tried to sit up, but Harry’s weight kept her down. “I can’t do what you want to do.” “But, Gin,” Harry said, “Do you know how long we’ve waited? Do you know how long I’ve wanted…I’ve wanted to…” Harry’s voice trailed off as his face grew red. This time Ginny managed to sit up, pushing Harry to the side. She ran a hand through her hair and avoided his look. “I’m sorry, I just can’t,” she said. Harry must have realized his defeat because his shoulders sagged and he sat down next to Ginny on the bed. “It’s okay,” he said, though his voice didn’t sound like it was. He grabbed her hand. “Maybe after the war, when everything is over?” Ginny watched herself nod, though saw there was no expression on her face. She glanced over to find Draco staring at her instead of the couple of the bed. She saw him take it his wand out, and with a pop they were back in the study. Draco let go of Ginny when they were on the ground, but he kept her right in front of him. “You never told me that Potter tried to have sex with you,” he said. “When you said you guys didn’t do it, I figured Potter was being a saint again.” Ginny’s face burnt red and she looked away. “Does it really matter what happened?” she said. She tried to move away, but Draco held onto her arm. “Why didn’t you have sex with Potter?” Draco asked, his voice low. Ginny squirmed, but Draco held on. “I just wasn’t ready to,” she said. “Not all girls just jump into the bed, all right?” “Not even during a time you knew any day could be your last?” Draco said. “Or his? Wouldn’t you want to have had him before he died?” “Draco, let go-” “You’re hiding something,” he said. “What’s the truth between you and Potter?” Ginny glared at him. “There’s nothing to hide, I just didn’t want to-” “Have sex with the one man you were in love with since you could talk?” Draco interrupted. “Yes, that makes loads of sense, especially since you were only too willing to have sex with me.” Ginny would have slapped him if she could. “You don’t know anything,” she hissed. “You don’t know what it was like being his girlfriend, what it was like being with The Boy Who Lived. People expected things—my family assumed things—but I couldn’t do that one thing. I just couldn’t.” “Not even after all the times he begged for it? What was it like, Ginny, having someone who’s defeated the Dark Lord having to beg you for sex and then you refuse it?” “Draco, let go of me now.” “Did you get off on knowing the control you had over him?” Draco continued, pressing himself onto her. “Did you enjoy not giving him probably the only good thing he would have felt before his death?” Tears started to sting at her eyes, but she refused to cry. “I said it wasn’t like that!” she yelled. “It wasn’t like that, now let me go. I said let me go, dammit!” “Then what was it like?” Draco nearly snapped. “What was it, Ginny? What was so wrong with you and Potter that you wouldn’t let him touch you like he wanted to?” “I didn’t love him!” Ginny screamed, tears now exploding from her eyes. “I loved him like a brother, but not like that! I just…I just couldn’t.” Draco let go of her and stared at her. “I knew it,” was all he said. And all Ginny could do in response was hide her shameful face in her hands and cry. ~*~ Ah-another twist to the story! I hope you enjoyed it! Chapter eight is waiting to be edited, and I’m in the middle of nine now, though it’s giving me a bit of a brain fart. School is back in session now, so I’m hoping the second half of the semester won’t delay my writing. Thank you for reading, and please review! Liz21 8. Chapter Eight ---------------- 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! 9. Chapter Nine --------------- Chapter Nine Ginny stared up into the red eyes of Voldemort. She was hit with the memory of when she saw those eyes after she was carried out of the burning Burrow, after she found her family dead. Ginny yelled and scrambled to get away, picking herself up off the ground as she moved. She ran to Draco, whose face seemed tense, and grabbed onto his arm, as if he was going to protect her from the monster that stood before them. Draco didn’t look at her as she held onto him in desperation, but he said, “Settle down, Weasley. He’s only a memory. He won’t hurt you.” Of course she knew that, but that didn’t stop her heart from beating against her chest, or from her eyes widening in fear. How could anyone face that man—that thing—and be calm about it, memory or not? She tore her eyes away from Voldemort and looked at Draco, who did not seem sad, but didn’t seem himself either. He looked as if he was forcing himself to remain calm; his body felt rigid under her hand. Ginny let go, suddenly feeling foolish for holding onto him. “Tonight,” Voldemort hissed, drawing Ginny’s attention towards him, “you will all witness what happens when you disobey your lord. My word is your way; your life is mine. Those who break against that will only suffer. There is no exception for displeasing me.” He paused and looked around the crowd, into each face of the robed members. “Bring her in.” The crowd parted as it did for Voldemort, and two more robed figures walked in with someone in between them. The two figures, men, Ginny guessed, by the bulky width of their shoulders, threw the person they held to the ground, where she fell to their knees before Voldemort. “Lower your hood so all can see the face of a failed Death Eater,” Voldemort hissed. Though the person’s back was to Ginny, as she watched the person lower the hood to reveal a set of long, blonde hair, the same color as Draco’s, she gasped. “It’s your mother,” she said to Draco, turning towards him. But he made no acknowledgement of what she said; his eyes trained on the woman before him. “Do you know why you bow before me, Narcissa Malfoy?” Voldemort asked. Narcissa nodded her head. “For disobeying you and leaving my post,” she said in a faint whisper. “And for failing to capture information about the Order,” Voldemort hissed, “and Harry Potter.” He paused and looked around. “Draco, step forward and stand next to your pathetic mother.” Ginny saw a hooded figure step out of the crowd and his take place to Narcissa. She knew it was Draco, even though he kept his hood up. “You were originally assigned to this assignment,” Voldemort said to Draco. “Is it true your mother took it over?” Ginny looked at the hidden Draco to Narcissa on the floor. It wasn’t true, Ginny thought. Narcissa had told her herself that it was Draco who had disappeared from his post; that she had only covered him to protect him. That Narcissa had died in place of her son. “Yes, it is,” Draco said. Ginny gasped and spun around to the Draco who stood beside her. She wanted to ask him how could he have lied; he was condemning his own mother to death, but lost her words at the look of Draco. His eyes narrowed and his hands were fisted. His whole body was shaking and his face seemed paler than normal. Ginny was aware of Voldemort talking once more, but instead she reached her hand out to Draco. “Draco,” she said, grasping his shoulder. Draco stepped out of her grasp. “Don’t touch me,” he spat, his eyes still ahead of him. Ginny frowned at him, but in pity. He was suffering. Ginny looked forward to Narcissa, whose head was bent down, and to the hooded Draco, who stood over her, doing nothing to save his own mother. If it was Ginny, she would have thrown herself on top of her mother, saying that Voldemort would have to go through her first. “Are you prepared to die, Narcissa Malfoy?” Voldemort said. Narcissa finally raised her head, but she didn’t look at Voldemort. Instead, she looked into the face of her son who stood beside her. “Yes, and I’d do it again if I had to.” Voldemort snarled, and as Narcissa raised her hand and reached for her son’s, Voldemort pointed his wand at her and screamed, “Avada Kedavra!” A bright, green light, flashed from his wand, so bright Ginny shut her eyes. When she opened them, Narcissa was sprawled at Draco’s feet, her blonde hair fanned around her face. One by one, the spectators disappeared, until only Voldemort and the hooded Draco remained besides Narcissa’s body. “You will do well not to follow in your parents’ footsteps,” Voldemort said, and without a reply from Draco he disappeared. Ginny wasn’t aware of her crying as she watched Draco push back his hood and stare down at his dead mother. No expression filled his face; he did not reach out to her, or pick her up to take her away. He just simply stared, his arms lifeless on either side of him. Ginny jumped when Draco grabbed her hand. She knew it was time to leave the memory, and by the look of Draco’s pale face, she knew not to argue. She nodded at him, and then they too disappeared. When they arrived back in the study, Draco let go of her and immediately went to a mini-bar in the corner of the room. Ginny watched the glass shake in his hand as he tried to pour himself a glass of brandy. With a sigh, she walked over to him and reached for the glass. “Here, let me do that.” Draco snarled and drew away from her. “I don’t need your help, Weasley,” he spat. “Especially if it’s out of pity.” Ginny took a deep breath—she knew getting angry at him would only worsen things. “I just thought you could use my help.” “I said I don’t need you,” he hissed, and blocked her body with his as he poured the brandy, it sloshing out of the cup. “I don’t need you, I don’t need her-” “Your mother?” Ginny asked, but as soon as it came out of her mouth she regretted it. Draco slammed the brandy against the bar. “Don’t talk about her to me,” he yelled. He gripped his glass and swung back a mouthful of brandy. “But,” Ginny said, finding it harder to play nice with a screaming, drinking Draco, “then why did you show me that memory?” Ginny watched as he finished his drink before he too slammed the glass down and then turned on her. Though she was very near to him, Draco advanced on her, making Ginny walk backwards to get away from him. “That’s to make sure you never go to her portrait again,” he said. Ginny felt her back hit the wall. “But it’s not Narcissa I care about right now.” Draco let out a bark of a laugh. “Are you trying to say that you care about me?” he said. “Are you trying to say that after all this time in the manor, after the screaming and the fighting, that you have feelings for me?” Ginny shook her head. “No, it’s not like that,” she said. “I just think you’re really upset now and-” Ginny froze as Draco closed in and put one hand on the wall next to her head. “And what?” he asked, leaning in. “Do you think you can help me? Do you think you’ll help me find salvation over my mother’s death?” “You feel responsible for it,” Ginny said. “This is why you’re acting this way—you feel guilty.” Ginny paused and stared at him. “You lied to Voldemort when you said she changed positions with you.” Ginny didn’t mean to trigger him, to make him angrier, but she knew the only way he could accept his mother’s death was if he faced the truth, and the role he played. “Shut up,” he hissed. He leaned in closer. “If you ever talk to my mother again, if you ever mention her name-” “I told you,” Ginny said, “she’s not who’s on my mind right now.” Her heart jumped when she saw Draco’s eyes widen for a second—maybe her words were getting to him. She knew he needed comfort, but right now he was like a poisonous snake, and no matter how wounded he was, if you tried to help him he would only bite you. “There’s nothing you can do for me,” Draco finally said. “There’s nothing that can erase all that has happened.” Ginny stared at him. “There’s nothing any of us can do to bring them back. All we can do is move on.” “That’s easy for you to say,” Draco said, but his voice was calmer. “You weren’t responsible for any of your families’ deaths.” “What about Percy?” Draco shook his head. “You didn’t drag Percy there, tie him down, and just sit there and watch while the Dark Lord was killing him.” “But if you tried to help her, you would have been murdered as well,” Ginny said. “There’s nothing you could have done to save your mother.” “I could have followed my instructions!” Draco yelled, banging his hand on the wall. “If I had just stayed at my post like the Dark Lord ordered me to, none of this would have happened.” Ginny wanted to ask why he left his post, then. She wanted to ask what was so important to disobey an order from Voldemort, but she knew such a question would only make things worse, and would further delay trying to calm him down. She didn’t even know why she felt it was her job to do such a task—maybe because after she visited her memory of her families’ death, he was there to comfort her. Very slowly, she reached out her hand and grasped his shoulder. Draco flinched at her touch. “You can’t go on beating yourself up like this,” she said. “I know myself—it’s not a way to live. You’ll only torture yourself.” “Then I deserve the pain,” Draco said, but he did not hiss or spit his words like he did before. “I would think you of all people would agree with that. I killed your Mudblood friend. I found Potter. I knew your whole family was going to die. And yet, you don’t think I deserve to suffer over killing my own mother, too?” A ball of anger grew inside Ginny at what Draco said. He was right—she should not only hate him, but she should take pleasure in knowing he’s suffering—that he deserved it. But surrounding that ball of anger was some other feeling, something foreign that she couldn’t put her finger on. Whatever it was, it was strong, and forced her to look past her hate for him and to see the man who was breaking in front of her. She felt the urge once more to kiss him, but as a means of comfort. In what may be her first unselfish act since she entered the manor, she wanted to hold him like he did to her, because that’s all she could do. She couldn’t fix the situation; she couldn’t go back and change things. All she could do was be there for him, as he was for her. She leaned her head up to do so, Draco being so close, but stopped herself. Memories of how he had reacted the last time she kissed him came flying back. It was too easy to forget he hated her. But he had told her himself that he didn’t want her, or need her. Ginny drew herself back. Draco’s eyebrows sunk, and she saw him glance down at her lips. He knew what she was about to do. “Ginny,” he said, but stopped. Ginny let go of his shoulder as well. “You’re right,” she said, “there’s nothing I can do for you, but that’s because you won’t let me.” She lightly pushed past him, and he released her from the wall. Ginny turned back to him, but he was still staring at the wall, as if she still stood there. “But that doesn’t mean I think you deserve the pain, Draco.” Ginny studied his silent figure. Maybe she was crazy—maybe he did deserve it. Maybe she had been around him for too long, and hated to see him suffer as she once did. Ginny sighed. She felt it was a little too late to explore her new feelings towards him, considering he made it a point that he no longer wanted her. When Draco remained silent and staring at the wall, Ginny turned to leave, and was walking past his desk when she stopped. There, on top of the desk, was the picture frame of her. Ginny’s heart quickened. But wait—he was supposed to hate her. Why would he put the picture back up of her if he didn’t want her any more? Unless…no; Ginny shook her head. She felt how his body responded to her when she threw herself at him. It was very clear he no longer wanted her, and he just said he didn’t need her. Ginny walked away from the desk and the picture frame before Draco could turn around and find her staring at it. When she approached the door, she wanted to ask him if it would shock her if she touched the doorknob, but couldn’t find the words to speak to him. His words to her, and his body’s reaction, just didn’t make sense with the picture frame, and thinking about it only gave her a headache. Ginny pulled out her wand, and to her surprise, a simple Alohamora spell opened it. With one last look at Draco, she left him to himself. ~*~ When Ginny awoke the next morning, the first thing she saw was a gorgeous beige gown hanging on her closet door. She stared at it with her sleepy eyes, trying to figure out what it was doing there. After she crawled out of her bed, she approached the dress for a closer look. It looked to be her size; it was long, with a small top and the skirt flowing out at the hips. There were no straps, and cream lace underlined the chest part. Ginny looked down and saw dress shoes to match. “Flipsy?” Ginny called out, and in a moment the house-elf appeared. “Flipsy, what is this dress doing here?” “Why, it’s yours, Miss!” Flipsy said with a smile. “For the ball!” Ginny’s eyes bulged. Pansy’s ball—she had completely forgotten about it. “Please don’t tell me that’s tonight,” she said, no longer eyeing the dress. Of course, now that she thought about it, she did pick out that dress, only it seemed so long ago. “Yes, it is, Miss,” Flipsy said. “Master says Flipsy has to start helping you get ready after lunch.” Ginny’s stomach dropped; she felt sick. She knew a week ago that she was to go to the ball with Draco, but it had always seemed forever away. Even when she picked out the gown, she didn’t actually picture herself wearing it. A part of her even hoped that Draco would come to his senses and realize she was the last person to bring to the ball. “Where’s Draco?” she asked Flipsy. Maybe she could still talk some sense into him and have him take someone else. “Master is out for today and won’t be back until before the ball.” Ginny swore—he probably did that on purpose. She began to come up with drastic plans. Maybe she could get sick, and then wouldn’t have to go. Or she could sprain her ankle and therefore couldn’t dance. But everything she thought of she knew that Draco could fix with magic. There seemed no way out of it—she was to go to Pansy’s ball, and suffer every moment of it. ~*~ Ginny stared at the grandfather clock in the drawing room. It was quarter to seven, and Draco still wasn’t home. Ginny stared down at the gown she wore. Like Flipsy said, she started getting ready after lunch, and after a long bath filled with all sorts of scents, Flipsy had done her hair and her makeup. The finishing result was beyond anything Ginny could have imagined. The only way she could describe herself was beautiful. She felt like a lady, wearing the fancy gown and the high heels. She even wore a pearl necklace with matching earrings, and with the makeup and her hair pulled up in curls, she hardly recognized herself. She didn’t think it would even be necessary for Draco to change the color of her hair. Her feet ached in her shoes, but she was too nervous to sit still. She paced the drawing room, wishing she could relax enough to at least breathe. She felt that she was going to go to her death. She would be in a room full of Death Eaters, full of people who wanted to torture and kill her. All she had to hide behind was a mask, but if that one little thing was removed, she was doomed. She began to wonder if even Draco could protect her if anything happened. There, he would be outnumbered. It didn’t matter that she was his; everyone would be too outraged to see a Weasley amongst them. And it helped little knowing Snape would be there. She hadn’t heard from him since she saw him in the manor, and she began to wonder if him being on her side was a joke after all. How much faith could she put in a man who had killed the greatest wizard of all time? She still didn’t know if she truly believed Snape and his claim of being on her side; all she knew was at that point, she had nothing else to lose. She had wondered if the time came, if those two men would help her. She had wanted to bring her wand, but she had no where to hide it, and she didn’t want to get Draco in trouble incase someone did see her with it. But then another thought occurred to her—a deeper and more sinister one. What if this was all a part of Draco’s plan to torture her? He had told her from the beginning that that was the case, and when he refrained from doing so, she had wondered if he was first going to allow her peace and happiness before he crushed her. And now that she knew he no longer wanted her, why would he hold back from doing such a thing? What if he was only bringing her to the ball to place her in a room full of Death Eaters, and then let them have a go at her? Ginny heard a cough from behind her, and she spun around. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of Draco. His hair was slicked back, just like his school days, and he was wearing a black dress robe with the collar outlined in silver. All thoughts of him betraying her left her mind as she saw him eye her up and down. “You look…nice,” he said. “I mean, you clean up well for a Weasley.” Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. “And you for a ferret.” Draco narrowed his eyes back, and then walked towards her. Ginny had to fight the temptation to back up into the wall, just as she had done the night before. When he drew his hand from behind his back, Ginny winced, waiting for his wand to appear, but saw instead a mask. “This is for you to wear,” he said, “at all times. At midnight everyone takes off their masks, but if we’re not gone by then, you must keep yours on. Do you understand?” Ginny stared at the mask. It was white, only it sparkled against the candle light. “Yes,” she said, and reached out for it, but Draco drew it back. “Let me,” he said, and before Ginny could say anything he stepped close to her. So close, that Ginny could smell a musk coming from him that she once smelled in a shirt she wore of his. Ginny stood patiently as Draco adjusted the mask on her face, and with his wand, he kept it in place with magic. He stepped back to examine it, and nodding his head, he drew out his own mask out of his pocket. It was pure silver and matched his eyes. Without a word, Ginny took it from his hands and stepped up to place it on his face. A flush crept over her as he stared down at her; why was she reacting in such a way to him after everything? When Ginny adjusted the mask, her hand skimmed Draco’s cheek. She felt this had been the closest she had been to him since she had kissed him. And though she was no longer throwing herself at him, she still felt that same need to be touched by him as well. When the mask was in place, Ginny stepped back and turned to avoid Draco’s stare. “Shall we go, then?” she asked as she headed for the door. “Wait—your hair,” Draco said, and before Ginny could turn around, she felt a cool sensation erupt on her head. She glanced at a mirror next to the door, and saw that instead of red curls, they were dark brown. Ginny fingered one curl, pulling it out to see the color. She looked herself over, and decided the hair color looked better in the dress then her red hair did. It didn’t surprise her that Draco picked that color. After last night, making her blonde may have reminded him of his mother. “And there’s one more thing,” Draco said. Before Ginny could ask what it was, Draco snapped his fingers and Flipsy appeared with a pair of gloves in his hand. Draco took them from the house-elf, and handed them over to Ginny. Ginny eyed the gloves before taking them. She discovered that they were white evening gloves that sparkled like her mask. They were long, and Ginny knew they would reach to her elbows. She looked up at Draco with confusion. “What are the gloves for?” Her stomach dropped as she saw him glance down at her wrists. “I assumed you’d want to cover that.” Before Ginny could stop herself, she looked down at the scar on her left wrist. The only time she had considered it was in the shower after she had thrown herself at Draco. It had never occurred to her that Draco would have thought of it as well. Suddenly, Ginny did want to cover the scar very much. It unnerved her and made her feel naked knowing that Draco could see it, and what he probably thought of her. “Does it bother you?” she asked, as she fought not to put the gloves on and hide it. Draco’s eyes glanced up to hers. “I just don’t want people thinking my date is suicidal, that’s all.” Ginny’s mouth dropped open. “How dare you! I’m not suicidal-” “You slit your wrist while you were in prison. If that’s not suicidal-” “I had no choice!” Ginny cried. “It was either that or be murdered!” Draco frowned. “What are you talking about?” But before Ginny could answer, the grandfather clock struck, announcing that it was eight o’clock. Draco swore and walked towards the door. “Look, just put the bloody gloves on. We’ve gotta go—we’re late as it is.” Ginny watched his back as he walked away, and with a scowl put the gloves on and followed. It angered her even more that she felt more comfortable with the gloves on, hiding the scar from Draco’s eyes. She didn’t care what others thought of her, but if Draco thought she was suicidal… She bunched up her dress in her hands and hurried after Draco. She didn’t want to lose sight of him. ~*~ They arrived in Pansy’s front lawn by Apparation, in front of a mansion not as big as Malfoy Manor, but still huge. Carriages were being pulled around a circle driveway outlined with light posts; people in dress robes and gowns were climbing out and walking to the open double door. Several people chattered amongst pixie filled rose bushes, some sitting on stone carved seats next to a fountain, sipping champagne out of glasses. The black stoned manor’s windows were all lit up, splaying light onto the front lawn and the night sky. After making sure her mask was in place, Draco grabbed Ginny’s arm and tucked it under his, and led them towards the front door. Ginny tried not to think anything of Draco holding her like he was—she knew it was just for appearance. Excitement mixed with anxiety; it was her first ball ever, and the little girl in her loved the gown she wore and imagined a night full of dancing—even if it was with Draco—but the anxiety kicking in reminded her of who she was, and who she would be surrounded by. “I don’t want you to talk to anyone,” Draco muttered under his breath as they neared the door. “And stick by my side at all time. And-” Ginny squeezed the arm that held her. “I get it, Draco. As much fun as it would be to disobey you, do you really think I want to do anything to draw attention to me?” Draco glanced over at her, and Ginny cursed the mask he wore. It hid all facial expression, except the slight frown of his lips and the hard look in his eyes. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but they walked up the stairs to the front door in silence. A large man with wide shoulders stood at the door. He had a green mask on, and wore a very simple gray dress robe. Draco stopped Ginny at the door, and presented Pansy’s invitation to the man. The man looked at it, looked at Draco, and then nodded. But before Draco could walk away, the man looked at Ginny. “I thought you’d bring that Weasley girl,” the man muttered. Ginny grew rigid at the mention of her name, and she felt Draco’s body jerk as well. “Do you really think I’d do such a thing, Crabbe?” Draco asked. He tightened his hold on Ginny. “Rhonda is a much better date than that Weasley trash.” When Crabbe nodded in agreement, Draco steered Ginny away from the door. When they were out of ear shot, Ginny turned on Draco. “Rhonda? What kind of name is that?” To Ginny’s surprise, Draco smiled. “If you’re going to have a fake name, can’t we have fun with it?” Ginny tried to bite her lip, but a smile appeared on her face. “I’d prefer something sexier, like Victoria, or Rhiannon.” “Or I could have called you Candy or kept the red hair and call you Rogue.” If the smiling wasn’t bad enough, Ginny let out a laugh, drawing several people’s eyes towards her. Ginny blushed and covered her smiling mouth. It warmed her to be able to laugh with Draco, and to not be reminded that he didn’t want her anymore. “People would think I was a prostitute.” “Well, here then,” Draco said as he let go of her arm and grabbed two glasses of champagne off of a tray of a passing waiter. He handed her one. “I hear whores enjoy their booze.” Ginny shot him a look, and would have stuck her tongue out at him if she wasn’t in a fancy gown at an extravagant party. Instead, Ginny accepted the glass and took a slip, feeling the liquid bubble down her throat. Draco offered his arm to her once more and nodded his head towards the direction of the ball room. “Are you ready to go into the pit of lions?” “More like snakes,” Ginny said as she tucked her free arm under his. They approached the door, where several couples stood, but when they took a look at Draco, they quickly stepped out of the way. Ginny laughed under her breath—she assumed with hair as light as Draco’s, anyone would recognize him even with the mask on. Or, it could have been the fact that he walked around with an air of superiority, as if he owned the place and it was his party that was being held. When they passed the couples, their eyes went from Draco to Ginny, which caused her to look away and stare at the ground. She knew her eyes were plain and brown, but she didn’t know how much of the make-up covered her freckles, something that has always stood out about a Weasley. She swore under her breath and took a sip of her champagne—she should have had Draco hide the freckles as well. When they were in the ball room, Ginny bit her tongue to stop her from gasping, or to even appear impressed. It was as big as Draco’s ball room, only filled with dancing couples and mingling groups. Chandeliers covered the ceiling, and banners and streamers of silver and green swooped from the ceiling and hung on the walls. There was a small band playing a waltz in the corner of the room, and dozens of waiters and waitresses carrying trays of drinks and appetizers. But what impressed Ginny most was how everyone looked—every woman in the room wore a gown that looked to be the price of the Burrow, and every man was just as elegant. Everyone’s hair was done perfectly, and they even danced with grace. Just staring at them unnerved her, and reminded her of exactly who she was, and how she was brought up. She wondered if even her gown and mask could hide the fact that she screamed a Weasley. When Ginny would have loved to just hide in the corner and away from all the people so different than her, Draco led them into the mass of people. “This is when I make my rounds and pretend I’m happy to see everyone,” he spoke into her ear. Ginny shuddered at feeling his breath on his skin. “But how can you tell who is who? Everyone is hiding behind masks.” “Oh, there’s other ways.” He pointed over to the left. “See that man with three blonde women attached to his side? That’s Flint. Rumor has it he’s engaged now, but that doesn’t stop him from being the filthy player he is. I’d keep an eye on him, if I were you.” Ginny nodded in agreement. She remembered Flint from school, and how he had a habit of cornering girls in the dungeons of the school when no one else was around. “And what about Parkinson?” she asked. That was another person she wanted to watch out for, especially after their last encounter at the robe shop. “She’s always wearing some frilly, pink dress,” Draco said as he nodded to a group of people. “Merlin only knows it makes me nauseous just looking at her.” Ginny cracked a grin at the insult right when Draco looked down at her. He smiled himself, and the look warmed Ginny’s body. Suddenly, she grew very bold, and taking advantage of Draco’s good mood, she tightened her hold on Draco’s arm and drew him nearer to her body, unable to stop herself. Maybe it was the atmosphere of the party and seeing all the couples, or the giddiness in her she had that reminded her of the first time she went to a dance with a boy. Or maybe it was the champagne already getting to her head, or seeing how handsome Draco looked and having him attached to her arm. Or maybe it was just, at the moment, that this was the most he had paid attention to her since before he found out that she didn’t love Harry, and she missed that from him. She heard Draco’s breath hitch at her move and for a moment Ginny feared he would pull away, but instead he looked down at her, his eyes round with surprise. Once again, Ginny cursed the mask he wore, and wondered what his face was showing at her sudden move, and what was going on through his head. Ginny thought of the picture of her that was back on his desk—had he lost as much interest in her as she thought he had? Draco licked his lips. “Ginny-” “Well, look who we have here.” Draco and Ginny jumped apart and looked ahead. Pansy stood before them, in a pink gown just as Draco predicted. She crossed her arms over her chest and stuck a hip out, and underneath the mask Ginny knew she was glaring. “Good evening, Pansy,” Draco said. “Looks like the party was a nice turn-out.” But Pansy ignored Draco’s words, and instead took to staring at Ginny. “Who’s the tramp, Draco? I hope not one of Flint’s girls.” Ginny’s face reddened and she matched Pansy’s glare. She felt Draco put his arm around her waist, but she wondered if it was only to keep her from clawing Pansy’s face apart. “This is Rhonda,” Draco said, “and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call her a tramp, for your sake. She’s very feisty.” Ginny watched as Pansy eyed her up and down. “You like them feisty, don’t you, Draco?” She turned her look to Draco. “That is what drew you towards that Weasley girl, isn’t it?” Ginny felt as if her heart would stop beating. They had barely arrived, and already she was mentioned twice. She felt Draco grow rigid as well, just as he had done when Crabbe mentioned her. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of that Weasley trash,” Draco said to Pansy. “Even that’s low for you, Pansy.” Ginny felt like a warrior knowing she had once given Pansy a black eye, because now watching her get fired up, even Ginny felt intimated by her. She clutched onto Draco’s arm, hoping to signal to him that she wanted to leave, but her move only caught Pansy’s eye. “I hope you know you have some serious competition,” Pansy said to her, “and not by me. I’m sure Draco didn’t tell you of the pet he’s keeping inside his manor?” “That’s enough, Pansy,” Draco growled. Pansy’s eyes flickered for over to Draco’s. “Are you telling me Rhonda doesn’t know of Weasley?” Pansy let out a laugh. “My, you are rather bent on keeping Weasley only to yourself, aren’t you? I was rather surprised you didn’t bring her as your date, though I suppose you’d hate to share her, wouldn’t you?” She smirked at Draco. “That’s a shame, really, because I know Flint was pretty excited to play with her.” “If you don’t shut your mouth right now, I’ll make you regret it,” Draco spat between his teeth. Ginny felt him shake with anger. “I’ve told you before, what I do with Weasley is my business, and in your best interest you should never talk of her again.” Pansy’s smirk dropped, but the glare in her eyes was still there. “You can’t talk to the hostess like that-” Draco took a step forward, leaving Ginny’s side. “You forget who I am,” Draco said, “and what power I hold over you. As I said, it would be in your best interest to never speak of Weasley again.” Pansy stood her ground, but only for a moment, before she backed away. She glanced over at Ginny and said, “Good luck with him; he’s a prat,” before she hastily walked away. Ginny let out a breath as she watched Pansy retreat and gave Draco a small smile as he stood next to her. “Well that wasn’t so bad, now was it?” Draco let out a bark of a laugh, drawing several heads to turn at them. Draco glared at them, making them turn away. “This is why I hate these parties,” he said, taking a drink from his glass and finishing it. “It’s either I’m dealing with Pansy being a bitch, or with all the other idiots here.” He placed the empty glass on a passing tray and picked up a full one. Ginny eyed him with his second drink. “All we need now is for you to get drunk and light the drapes on fire.” “Now that would add some excitement to this dull party,” Draco said with a grin, making Ginny smile as well. But then, Draco’s smile dropped, and before Ginny could ask what the matter was, she heard someone say behind her, “I don’t know who your date is, Malfoy, but she looks rather nice from behind.” Ginny whipped around in disgust and saw Flint eyeing her up and down. She immediately backed up to where Draco stood, and felt a bit of relief when he wrapped his arm around her waist. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk to my date like that, Flint,” Draco growled. “Especially with your fiancée so near.” Ginny looked behind Flint, and was surprised to see a short, blonde woman standing there. She wore a dark, shimmering blue robe, and a light blue mask. The woman, whose head was bowed and staring at the floor, did not acknowledge that what Flint said offended her. In fact, she seemed to be expressionless, and acted as if there was not a party going on around her. Flint looked back at the silent woman and laughed. “Like she’d say anything,” he said, looking back at Draco. His eyes then skipped over to Ginny. “In fact, I could be all over your date right now, and nothing would happen. My fiancée knows her place.” Ginny couldn’t hide the disgust on her face, but Flint didn’t seem to mind. He looked her up and down once more. “She’s a real looker, Malfoy. Where’d you pick her up?” Draco’s hold on her tightened. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” Draco said. “And I didn’t pick her up, not like you do with your whores.” Flint merely shrugged his shoulders, as if what Draco said was the truth. “What’s your name, sweetie?” he asked Ginny. Before Ginny could reply, Draco said, “It’s Rhonda.” Flint glanced at Draco before he looked back at Ginny. “You answer for her too, Malfoy? I guess you would get off on that power trip—it’s pretty powerful stuff, isn’t it? You should try tying her up in bed—that’s where the real fun is.” The hate and disgust Ginny felt every time Flint opened his mouth finally boiled over. “You’re disgusting,” she spat before she could stop herself. Flint’s eyes widened, Draco loosened his grip on her and turned to look at her, but what drew Ginny’s attention was that the blonde woman next to Flint turned her eyes on her as well. Ginny felt pulled into the contact with the one’s blue eyes; she felt a sense of calm rush over her at the woman’s gaze, like she was staring at someone she cared about. The eye contact was broken when Flint stepped forward. “How dare you, you little-” Draco stepped in front of Ginny, blocking her from Flint. “I’ll have none of that, Flint,” Draco growled. “If you lay one hand on her-” “How can you just let that tramp say what she wants?” Flint snapped. “Don’t you know the woman’s only place is in bed?” Ginny wished she could see the expression on Draco’s face; she was fuming herself. “Just because you treat women like objects doesn’t mean I do,” Draco said. “Yeah?” Flint barked back. Ginny peaked around Draco and saw the man’s face was red. “I’ve heard rumors about you keeping that Weasley girl in your manor. I’m sure you have all sorts of fun with her.” Flint took a step closer, and was now face to face with Draco. “Tell me, Malfoy, do you show her what it is to be a traitor?” “What I do to Weasley is my business-” “If you don’t, then let me,” Flint said. “I’ve been trying to get at her the whole time she was in prison, but your damn guards never let me touch her.” A grin broke out on his face. “I got to her friend though.” Draco lurched forward at Flint, but Ginny dropped her glass and grabbed onto his arm and held him back from hitting him. “Draco, no, not here,” Ginny pleaded as she struggled to hold onto him. She knew Draco was stronger, and could have easily pushed her off, but she still held on. It wasn’t to protect Flint—if she could, she’d slap him herself—but a fight would only draw attention, and that was the last thing she needed. She felt each time her name was mentioned it was mere luck that she went unnoticed, but if the whole ball room was staring at her, she knew that someone would figure out who she really was. Flint let out a laugh. “Man, you are pathetic, Malfoy. Having your woman holding you back?” He turned and walked away, laughing as he went, with his fiancée trailing after him. Draco’s body jerked again as Flint left, and then he turned on Ginny. “What did you do that for?” he snarled, his face pink with anger. Ginny looked out of the corner of her eye and saw several couples staring. “Draco, please, there’s people looking-” Draco looked over at the people and glared until they looked away. “Is that what you’re so worried about?” Draco said. “Fine—follow me.” Before Ginny could say anything, Draco grabbed her hand and tugged her after him. He led them out of the ball room and into the hall. He marched through the front door, without saying a word to Crabbe, and outside. Ginny thought they were going to go to the Apparation point, but Draco drew her to the left and passed couples and rosebushes before he came to the edge of the garden where it was empty. He quickly let go of her and sat down on a carved bench. Ginny rubbed her hand; it was sore from Draco’s tight grip on her. Ginny watched as Draco fumed, and then tore off his mask and threw it across the lawn. “This was a bad idea,” he said. “I shouldn’t have come.” He looked over at Ginny. “How could you hold me off like that? You heard what he said—he raped that Mudblood friend of yours.” Ginny’s stomach plummeted. “But you’ve said before that Hermione was protected just as I was.” Draco ran a hand over his hair. “Crabbe and Goyle’s job was only to watch you—I just put Granger in your cell to comfort you.” “But,” Ginny said, sitting down next to Draco, “Flint never came into our cell. And Hermione never said anything to me-” Draco shook his head. “It doesn’t matter anymore,” he said. He set his hand down and stared ahead, silent. But it did matter to Ginny. The thought of Hermione being raped by Flint made her nauseous. Ginny’s gloved hand covered her mouth. Through her whole stay in the prison, one thing she had always been thankful for was that neither her or Hermione were touched. She would spend sleepless nights listening to women crying and screaming, and she would always wait for the men to come to their cell, but they never did. So how Flint got to Hermione, Ginny didn’t know, but the thought of her friend going through such a thing made her stomach turn violently. Ginny quickly stood up. “I need the restroom,” she mumbled behind her hand. Draco’s eyebrows raised and he stood up slowly. “Are you okay?” A picture of Hermione being held down by Flint crossed her mind, and Ginny quickly shook her head. Tears sprang to her eyes. “I need,” was all she could mumble. She needed the toilet; she needed to breathe. She needed to kick Flint between the legs, hard enough to where he could never rape another woman if he tried. Draco must have understood her, because he took her free hand and led her away from the garden and back to the house. He rushed past Crabbe, who mentioned something about where did his mask go, and down the hallway past the ballroom. He stopped in front of a door, and let go of her hand. “Here,” he said, nodding at the door. His hand touched her cheek. “You seem pale—are you-56” But Ginny couldn’t wait to hear what he had to ask. She ran through the door and entered the power room with a vanity mirror and a couch, and then through another door where there was a toilet and a sink. Without locking the door, she lunged over the toilet and dry heaved. She tried to calm herself; her heart was beating, her stomach was twisting, and she could barely breathe. She felt a rush of dizziness pass through her—she couldn’t stop thinking about poor Hermione. But it didn’t make sense—when did Flint rape her? How did he get a hold of her without Ginny knowing? And surely Draco would have known something about it. When it was clear nothing was coming up, Ginny stood up from the toilet and tried to catch her breath. Her whole body felt weak and numb. She felt as if she had just run a mile; even her forehead was sweaty. Ginny took off her mask and wet her face from the sink. She just needed to calm herself down. “Hello, Ginny.” Ginny gasped and jumped away from the sink. There, standing in the room by the door, was Flint’s fiancée. Ginny fumbled for her mask on the counter, but knew it was too late. “Please don’t tell anyone who I am,” she pleaded. Her cover was ruined—she was seen. Thoughts ran through her head of how she could stop the woman from telling everyone there was a Weasley in the bathroom, but without her wand, she had no way of stopping her. Flint’s fiancée would tell everyone, and they would come rushing in, Flint and Pansy and everyone who wanted to hurt her. The blonde woman smiled, but she seemed sad. “Don’t you know who I am, Ginny?” When Ginny shook her head, she watched the woman pull off her mask. Ginny’s mask dropped from her hand in shock as she stared at her face. There, before her, stood Luna. ~*~ Dun dun dun!! Add twist and insert yet another cliff hanger. Mwuhahah. *cough* sorry, I got carried away. This chapter was a biggie-8 pages more than it usually is. I updated earlier then usual, and hope to get chapter ten done this weekend. I hope you enjoyed, and please review. Liz21 10. Chapter Ten --------------- Ah! The chapter that took forever to update! I am sorry for the delay--my beta has been rather busy lately, and I didn’t want to post the chapter full of errors. I hope it was worth the wait, though. Go and enjoy! ~*~ Chapter Ten It seemed as if time had slowed down. Ginny was aware that she was staring into Luna’s face, one of her best friends at Hogwarts, but was frozen from shock. A million questions were pouring into her head. Why was Luna at the ball? Was she really Flint’s fiancée? What had happened to her after Ginny was imprisoned? Ginny began to feel her own legs move towards Luna. “How,” was all Ginny could mutter. “How…” And then she felt herself completely break down. She ran the remaining distance and flung herself onto Luna, crushing her into a hug. “Oh, Luna,” Ginny cried, aware that there was a new row of tears. “You’re alive. I thought you’d-” What had she thought? Once she was imprisoned, the only news she heard of the outside world was Harry’s death. She had thought often of all of her friends, and wondered if some were still alive, hiding somewhere, but she always expected the worst. It was, after all, the reality of the war. Ginny pulled away and stared into Luna’s vacant face. “Luna, aren’t you excited to see me?” Ginny asked, trying to stop herself from crying. Here she was, a moment ago completely alone in the world, with only Snape on her side, and now Luna was back. Though Luna was never in the Order, she still helped the group out, and did what she could from her position as a reporter for her dad’s magazine. She had many sources that knew a few Death Eaters, and through them she was able to find important information, like when and where they were going to attack next. And now, in a mansion full of Death Eaters, Ginny wasn’t alone anymore. Luna blinked at her. “It’s hard to say I’m happy when I know why you’re here,” Luna said, in almost a whisper. “Is it true that you’re with Malfoy?” Ginny hesitated at how Luna phrased the question--she made it sound as if they were a couple. “Didn’t you hear? Draco won me as a prize. I’ve been living with him ever since.” Luna slightly cocked her head. “That’s funny,” she said, “how you call him by his first name. Flint’s been trying with me for a while now, but I just have no spirit left to do it.” Ginny covered her mouth. Had she really been calling Draco by his first name, especially to Luna? “I mean nothing by it,” Ginny said quickly. “It’s just some thing he ordered me to do-” “I sense something powerful from him,” Luna said. She looked into Ginny’s eyes. “I could feel it when Flint was harassing you. Malfoy wasn’t just angry. He was possessive.” Ginny wanted to laugh. “That’s only because he owns me,” Ginny said. “You know how men are about their property-” “I think he loves you.” This time, Ginny did feel as if her body was frozen. Everything seemed to have slowed down, except for her heart, which was beating rapidly. “That’s-” she said, “that’s just impossible. Draco hates me.” Luna gave Ginny a smile that broke her heart. “It is better to be loved by the enemy than to be hated.” Ginny watched Luna look away. When she wasn’t looking, Ginny glanced down at her left hand, and saw the huge engagement ring on her finger. “Luna,” she said slowly, “what happened to you? Why are you with Flint? It just doesn’t make sense.” Ginny almost gasped when Luna turned back to her, and she saw tears coming down from her eyes. Through the whole war, never had she seen Luna cry. Never had she seen her spirit break. “There were…consequences to what he did,” Luna said. There was a knock on the door. “Ginny?” It was Draco’s voice. “Are you okay in there?” Ginny’s head whipped to the door. “Um-yes!” Did Draco know Luna was in there with her? Did he even know what Luna was Flint’s fiancée? “I’ll be out in a minute!” Luna smiled once more, though she was still crying. “It’s nice that he cares about you. You must never take that for granted, Ginny. There are worse things than living with a Death Eater.” Ginny shook her head. “I don’t understand,” she said. “You’re marrying Flint--surely he must have feelings for you.” Luna sighed and rested her hands on her stomach. “The only things he cares for, is what are his.” Ginny wanted to shake her head again, to ask Luna to be clearer, when her eyes darted down to Luna’s hand. The dress Luna wore was not fitted like the others, and was quite loose around her stomach. But when Luna pressed her hands against her skin, Ginny noticed that the young woman wasn’t as small as she remembered her to be. Luna was always stick-skinny, having no curves, and certainly no stomach, not like the one she seemed to have now. Her stomach was only a slight bump, but the sight of it washed Ginny with cold dread. And then what Flint said earlier popped into her head. *“I got to her friend though.”* Ginny’s hand went to cover her mouth as she felt her eyes sting with tears. Luna must have known what she was thinking, because she bowed her head in shame. “Oh, Luna,” Ginny whispered. “He didn’t…he didn’t…” “If he had known I would get pregnant, I don’t think he would have touched me,” Luna said, staring at her feet. “I was imprisoned, just as you were, but once I arrived I was kept in a private cell just for Flint’s…use.” She looked up at Ginny. “He said he had always liked my hair in Hogwarts, and wanted to touch it for himself.” Ginny shook her head. “That horrible man,” she said. Anger quickly replaced the sadness. “How dare he think he can just…” But Ginny couldn’t say what he did, not to Luna. How could she confirm just a horrible fact to the poor girl? She could barely accept the idea of Flint raping Hermione, but it was easier on her, because Ginny knew the girl was dead and would never have to deal with it again. But for Flint to have meant Ginny’s other friend, one living and right here in the flesh, Ginny just wanted to tear him to pieces. “When he found out I was pregnant, he said he wouldn’t have his child be a bastard,” Luna whispered. She looked off to the side, as if staring at something important. “I’m beginning to wonder what life was worse--being held prisoner in the cell, or being imprisoned to his home and bed.” She stopped and squeezed her stomach. “I don’t want to bring any child into that kind of world.” “Does anyone else know?” Ginny could hardly imagine Pansy knowing, and being okay with it. Luna nodded. “Most know,” she said. “Word got out when Malfoy brought you back to the Manor. After he did that, more and more Death Eaters were admitting to doing the same thing. Only, none of them care about the women they possess like Malfoy cares about you.” Another knock sounded on the door. Ginny jumped and grabbed her mask. “I’m coming, Draco, settle down.” Ginny hastily put the mask on in place, and after making sure it was on properly in the mirror, she turned back to Luna. “I’m sorry, but I have to go,” she said. “When can I see you again? Surely Draco would let you come over to the Manor.” Luna smiled at Ginny once more, and each time she did, Ginny wanted to hurt Flint even more. Luna had always been a spirited girl, where nothing could ever bring her down, but now, after learning the truth of her, to Ginny Luna looked like she too had died in the war, just in a different way. “I fear this may be the last time we ever see each other, Ginny.” Ginny shook her head. No--she had just found Luna. There was no way that she’d never see her again. She wanted to argue, but she knew her time was short. “I’ll talk to you through Snape,” she said. “You can trust him.” Luna looked as if she wanted to say something, but nodded instead. “Just remember, Ginny,” she said as Ginny pushed on the door, “there are worse things than Malfoy loving you.” Ginny stared at the blonde girl, and then at her hands, protecting what she could not protect from Flint. Ginny stared at her until the image was burnt into her brain, and then she left the room. When she entered the powder room, she found Draco pacing the tiny room. “What are you doing in here?” she asked. Draco jumped and turned around. “Bloody hell, Weasley,” he said as he walked up to her. He grabbed her chin between and pulled her face towards him, examining it. “What happened in there? Were you crying?” Ginny looked back at the door. Draco must not have seen Luna slip in. She stared at Draco as he looked at her puffy eyes, and her red face. And all she could think of at the moment was how Luna proclaimed that he loved her. “It’s nothing,” Ginny said, grasping Draco’s hand and pulling it away from her face. “But we should probably get out of here--I don’t think Parkinson would appreciate you in a woman’s restroom.” And to Ginny’s surprise, Draco grinned. “She already saw me in here. She practically flipped her lid.” Ginny wanted to smile too, at the image of Pansy freaking out, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Luna. And what Luna said to her about Draco. She stared at Draco, and wondered if he knew the truth about Luna. “Well, shall we go back to the ball?” Draco asked, his hand gesturing towards the door. Ginny stared at the door he pointed towards, and then back at the door where Luna was. She slowly nodded, and as Draco led her out of the room, she said her silent goodbyes to her friend. Ginny was aware of Draco talking as he led her back to the ballroom, but she couldn’t make anything out. Her head was swarming--she had just taken in too much information. Should she tell Draco that Flint didn’t rape Hermione--that it was Luna? But how would Draco react to knowing that she not only just talked to Luna, Flint’s fiancée, but she had her mask off. Ginny knew she could trust Luna, but wouldn’t bet money that Draco did. “I have to make a few more rounds, and than we can dance,” Draco whispered into her ear. Ginny couldn’t help it, but blushed at the thought. Her, dance with Draco? The idea seemed ridiculous, but oddly, she wasn’t complaining. Instead she said, “Can I just stay here? I don’t think I can take any more Weasley comments for the night.” Draco frowned and then looked around. He still didn’t have his mask on, and his face showed that he was not happy with her request. “Fine,” he said, finally, “but I won’t have you be by yourself.” Ginny wanted to ask who she could be with--she couldn’t be with Luna, and she knew no one else at the party. Before she could state that, Draco grabbed her arm and pulled her towards on side of the ballroom, where there was a table full of appetizers. Very few people stood over here, all except for one man in a pure black dress robe and mask. In fact, when Ginny got closer, she noticed how the material of the robe seemed to match with the greasiness in the man’s hair. “Oh, bloody hell,” she said as she noticed that the man was Snape. She wondered why she hadn’t notice him before. Besides standing alone and not socializing with anyone, he stuck out like a sore thumb. Leave it to Snape to have no color other than black on him, and to not even bother washing his hair for a ball. When they approached Snape, Draco looked around and then said, “I need you to watch her while I go talk to a few people.” Ginny glared at Draco and tore her arm from his grasp. “I don’t need a babysitter.” Draco ignored her. “Her name is Rhonda, and she is not to be left alone. Flint and Pansy have already eyed her.” Ginny thought Snape rolled his eyes, but the mask hid it. “Very well, Malfoy,” Snape said. “Just don’t leave me with her all night; I doubt she’d make good company.” Ginny glared at the older man, but he didn’t seem to notice. Draco squeezed her elbow, promising he’d be right back, and to her infuriation, she blushed again, especially with Snape watching. The last time he had seen the two together, he had walked in on them in a very embarrassing situation. As soon as Draco was out of sight, Ginny turned to Snape. “Did you know that Luna was still alive?” It was out before she could think about if she really could trust Snape or not. But if he said he’d protect her, as the last member of the Order, maybe he could do something for Luna as well. Snape took a sip from a glass of scotch he was holding. “I shouldn’t be surprised that you already found that out,” he said. “But yes, I did. I was the one who ran the spell on her to find out if she was pregnant.” The crowd broke and Ginny was able to catch sight of Flint talking to three blonde women, none of them Luna. “How could he?” she asked, staring the man down. “How could he do such a thing and get away with it?” She heard Snape sigh. “Things have changed. We now live in a world where there is no punishment for wrong-doing. What Flint did was just the same as what every other Death Eater did, and they all got away with it. Miss Lovegood is just lucky that Flint is willing to provide for her and the baby.” Ginny spun onto Snape. “Lucky?” she yelled. “Lucky? Have you seen her? Have you seen the dead look in her eyes? He broke her; she’s no longer the friend I once knew. She’s more dead than alive because of him.” Snape made no reaction towards Ginny’s outburst. “Things may change for her once she has the child.” He looked at Ginny. “I’m not saying I approve of the matter; there’s just nothing that can be done about it.” Ginny shook her head and glared back at Flint, who looked over and caught her eye. “There has to be something we can do,” she said. “I can’t just stand by and watch Flint ruin her.” She looked back at Snape. “Luna is the last family I have--I can’t just do nothing about it.” “How can you help her when you can’t even help yourself with Malfoy?” Snape asked before draining his drink. But Ginny ignored his words. Her situation with Draco was…tolerable. Luna was right--she was lucky to be with Draco, and not with Flint instead. After all the times she felt she suffered in Malfoy Manor, she doubted she could shed another tear, knowing her friend was in a much worse situation. Ginny eyed the table near them, where she saw a bowl of punch she was hoping was spiked. “I’m getting some punch,” she muttered before she walked away from Snape, not waiting for his permission to go. As she poured herself a glass, she had to concentrate to keep her hand still. She was so mad she was shaking. If it wasn’t Flint and Luna, then it was Snape being ignorant of the problem. Snape promised to help Ginny--shouldn’t he help Ginny’s friends as well? And then there was Draco. What would he say on the whole situation? Would he be willing to do something if she asked? Ginny set down her glass on the table and stared at a cheese spread next to the punch. But what if Snape was right? What if there was nothing anyone could do? What could Ginny do herself to free Luna? “Why, hello there, Miss Rhonda.” Ginny froze at the voice, and shivers went down her spine at the feeling of Flint right against her back. Ginny could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck, and it made her want to throw up. Ginny’s hands clutched onto the table. “Yes?” she asked. She felt Flint’s hand touch her hip. “I…wanted to apologize about my actions from before. Things got a bit…out of hand.” Ginny’s eyes stared at a serrated knife that was on the cheese spread platter. Oh, how she just wanted to grab it and slice him up right then and there. “I’d discourage you from touching me, Flint, what with your fiancée around.” Flint gave a low laugh, and when Ginny was hoping he’d let go, he only dug himself into her. Ginny almost yelped as she felt his erection dig into her back. “She won’t be a problem,” he said. “But I wanted to show you how sorry I am by giving you at tour of the mansion. I doubt Malfoy had the decency to do it.” Draco--that’s who Ginny needed now. Where was he when Flint was rubbing himself into her? Or even Snape--was he watching the whole scene, but sticking to his comment that nothing could be done? But something must be done--something must be done to stop Flint. Ginny continued to stare at the knife, and before she knew what she was doing it, she carefully grabbed it and slipped it into her left glove. “Yes,” she heard herself say, “a tour would be nice.” Making sure the knife was secure, she turned around to face Flint, and smiled. “We’ll be going alone, right?” Flint’s eyes widened slightly, and then he grinned. “Why, of course,” he said, his hand touching Ginny’s arm, grazing it slightly with his fingers. “Anything for you, Rhonda.” Ginny nodded and then Flint grabbed her arm and led her out of the room. As they walked away from the table, Ginny glanced back at Snape, but found him talking to Crabbe. Ginny also looked around for Draco, but couldn’t see his blond head anywhere. Ginny let out a grin--if she couldn’t count on them to do anything about Flint, then she had to do it herself. Flint led her down the hallway and past the bathroom where she met Luna. He didn’t say a word to her until he opened up a door and led her into a room where there was a piano, several couches, and a bar. Nothing fancy, and nothing worth showing, Ginny noted. She was at least thankful there were lights on in the room. “So,” Ginny said, stepping away from Flint to examine a painting on the wall, “where did you meet your fiancée?” She heard Flint groan; he was nearby. “Must we talk about her?” he asked. Ginny froze when she felt Flint’s hand settle on her waist and pull her towards him. “I’d much rather talk about you.” Ginny swallowed the disgust she felt bile up her throat when Flint began to kiss the back of her neck. “Did you know her from school?” she asked instead. She shook every time she felt his wet lips on her skin. “Sort of,” he said finally, between kisses. “She was a few years younger then me. But that’s not when I got her.” With Flint busy at her neck, Ginny slowly drew the knife out of her glove. “What do you mean…got her?” she asked as she held the knife in her right hand, and close to her. Flint let out a deep laugh, close to Ginny’s ear. “The traitor had it coming to her,” he hissed, then licked her earlobe. “She was practically begging for it.” Rage built up in Ginny, and now it took all of her effort to keep her from shaking. She clutched onto the knife. “Begging for what?” Flint let out another laugh, and took his hands and grabbed at her waist, digging himself into her back. “My, you sure are clueless, Rhonda. But I like women better that way.” When Ginny thought he wasn’t going to answer, she felt his lips against her ear once more. “I made her mine,” he whispered, “even if it meant tying her down and fucking her while she screamed.” Ginny turned so quickly that Flint let go in surprise. Before Flint could realize what was going on, Ginny pressed the blade to his neck. “You disgusting bastard!” Ginny yelled, pressing the knife so hard that the skin it touched grew red from the pressure. Flint’s eyes grew wide. His hand went into his pocket, searching for his wand. “Don’t!” Ginny yelled. “If you even try to get out wand, I’ll slice your throat without a moment’s thought.” Flint hesitated, and then drew his hand out of his pocket without the wand. He held his hand above his head. “Settle down, Rhonda,” he said. “Is this some kinky foreplay?” Ginny pressed onto the knife, drawing a bit of blood and making Flint gasp. “It’s only about sex to you, isn’t it?” Ginny snapped. “You have no decency for anyone else as long as you’re getting off.” Despite being held up by a knife, Flint glared at her. “And what’s it to you?” he growled. “Who the hell do you think you are that you can just-” “If you don’t let Luna go, I swear to God I’ll kill you,” Ginny said. Flint’s eyes rounded once more at the mention of Luna’s name. “This is all about that traitor?” he said. Ginny pressed deeper, cutting him off and making him cough. “Promise me you’ll let her go,” Ginny said, breathing heavily. “Leave her and her baby alone, and I’ll let you live.” And for a moment, Ginny thought he would actually agree. Flint grew still and silent. His eyes were calculating, but he made no resistance. No more disgusting words came out of his mouth; he only stared. Ginny relaxed her grip on the knife. “Now that we have a deal-” But before Ginny could finish her sentence, Flint lunged at her. He knocked away her hand that held the knife, only cutting himself barely, and jumped on top of her. Ginny let out a scream as she felt him push her to the ground onto her back, him right on top of her. “You stupid bitch,” he hissed as he bent up and slapped Ginny on the face. Ginny felt as if her face was on fire at the burn, and the blow of it snapped her head onto the ground, leaving it aching. Flint let out a laugh as he held Ginny down by pressing on her shoulders and straddling her hips. “You think you can hurt me?” he yelled as he ripped at Ginny’s dress, tearing it down the front. Ginny felt the air hit her chest and then screamed again as she felt Flint’s tongue on her chest. Flint laughed again. “That’s right, scream, baby. I like it when they scream. You should have heard the voice on that traitor friend of yours.” Flint grabbed both her hands and held them with one hand above her head. With his other hand, he reached underneath him and pushed up her dress and fumbled with her underwear. Ginny kicked her legs under him, but he was too strong. She turned her head to the side and saw the knife that was knocked out of her hand near her, but just out of reach. Flint’s eyes darted to the knife, and then quickly grabbed it himself. “Oh, you want to use this, do you?” he asked as he dug himself into her crotch. Ginny let out another cry at feeling him hard against her. Flint pulled the knife to her face, so close that her eyes widened. “Oh, don’t worry my love,” he said. “Your face is far too beautiful to ruin. Though, how beautiful I wonder, what if that mask being in the way.” Ginny’s heart beat raced. After all he was doing to her, if he took off the mask and found out who she really was, it would all be over. He’d not only rape her, but kill her too. Ginny shook her head and tried to squirm out from under his body, but he just held on tighter. He set the knife down next to him and winked at her. “I’ll be using that later,” he said before he used his free hand and reached down for her mask. Ginny let out another scream before he slipped it off, praying someone would hear her. Tears stung her eyes--where was Draco? She needed him. He would save her; he wouldn’t let Flint touch her the way that he was. All she could think of was Draco, then, as Flint took off her mask and stared at her in shock. “Weasley?” he finally muttered. His mouth was wide open, and then slowly, he closed it, and his eyes were gleaming. He quickly covered his surprise with a smirk. “This is even better than I thought.” His hand grabbed her chin and squeezed painfully. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to show you what it was to be a filthy traitor such as yourself,” he hissed. “But Malfoy’s stupid guards would never let me get to you. That’s the only reason why I took your friend Lovegood--she was the next best thing to you.” Ginny tried to shake her head as she cried. No, that couldn’t be it--was it her fault that Luna was raped by him? Was it Draco’s fault for protecting her? But where was Draco now, when she needed him most**.** Flint let go of her face and busied himself with her underwear, tearing it off of her. Ginny screamed so hard that her voice soon grew raw, and her legs grew tired of trying to fight him off. Flint grinned as he pushed back his dress robe. “That’s it, baby, just take it. No use in fighting me off, because you’ll never win.” A flash of green light erupted in the room, and Flint was thrown off of Ginny. Ginny lay on the ground in shock as she saw Flint hit the wall of the far side of the room, and crumble onto the ground. “Ginny!” she heard Draco yell, and then suddenly there he was, right next to her. His face was bright red, his eyes wide as he took in her state: her ripped top, the dress bunched up at the bottom, and her red cheek. “You came,” was all Ginny could say, and despite all that happened, she smiled. Draco grabbed her and picked her up off the ground, cradling her into his chest. He turned to where Ginny could see that Snape was right behind him; both men seemed out of breath. “We need to get her out of here before Flint comes to,” Draco said quickly. “Do you think you can hold off anyone who tries to stop us?” Snape nodded; his wand was out as well. “Quickly,” Snape said as he beckoned Draco out of the room. As they left the room, Ginny glanced at the knife on the ground and then into Draco’s face. “Thank you,” was all she said before a she was overcome with weariness, and she fainted. ~*~ When Ginny came to, she was in her bed. Someone must have changed her, because she no longer had her ripped dress on her. She felt her neck and ears, and found the jewelry missing as well. Ginny sighed and snuggled deep into the blankets that were up to her chin. It had been a long night, and too many horrible things had happened. And now, not only was Luna’s secret discovered, but Ginny was discovered as well. She wondered if Flint would tell everyone that a Weasley was at the party, and knowing him he probably would. He might even boast about almost raping her; surely that would have been some sort of a prize to him. But what worried her most, besides almost getting raped and possibly killed, was what position Draco was in. Flint may not know that it was Draco who attacked him, but all signs pointed to him. Would Draco get in trouble for bringing her to the ball? And then attacking Flint, even though he was only protecting her? Ginny covered her face with her hands. It seemed as if she was responsible for everyone’s troubles. She couldn’t forget what Flint told her, that because he couldn’t rape her, he raped Luna. How much of that was her fault? Should she feel the blame because Luna is in captivity with a baby on the way? How many times had Luna had to go through that horror, all because Ginny was protected by Draco? And it all led her back to Draco. Luna spoke so softly of him, even thought she knew he was a Death Eater. Luna spoke of love and of not taking it for granted, of how it could be much worse. And after the night’s events, Ginny knew that Luna only spoke the truth. To have to deal with someone like Flint, Draco was an angel in comparison, and Ginny was lucky to have him. Ginny heard a soft knock on her door, and she called, “Come in.” Draco poked his head in before he entered, shutting the door behind him. He was still in his dress robe, his hair was slightly out of place, and he seemed tired. “How are you doing?” he asked, approaching her bed and standing next to it. Ginny shrugged. “A bit shocked, but that’s all,” she said. She paused and stared at Draco. Why did it seem that he was always saving her life? And how could he keep on doing it, if she thought he hated her? “How did you know where I was?” she asked. Draco ran a hand through his hair and sat down on the edge of the bed, not looking at her. “When I came back to where I left you with Snape, and saw you were gone, it just sort of clicked. Who else would drag you out of the room but Flint?” Draco paused and stared at the comforter. “I saw how he was looking at you earlier, and I think you insulting him just turned him on even more.” Ginny pushed back her sheets slightly and sat up. “I thought…I thought if maybe I got him alone, and threatened him, that he would leave Luna alone and-” “Don’t be foolish, Ginny,” Draco said, finally looking at her. “Look, I didn’t even find out about Lovegood until after all this when Snape told me, and even I knew nothing could be done. Flint’s a bastard, but when it comes to women, no one stops him. No one can. You just have to accept it and move on.” Ginny’s mouth dropped open. “Move on? Draco, he raped my friend**?** How can you just expect me to deal with it?” Draco shook his head. “I don’t expect you to. I’m just trying to say that there’s nothing you can do about it, so don’t do anything stupid again and end up getting yourself in a worse position than Lovegood.” Ginny wanted to fight back, but it occurred to her that this was Draco’s way of showing he was worried, or that at least he didn’t want to see her in the same situation again. Ginny closed her mouth and studied Draco, from his blond hair to his set, stubborn face. And all that was running through her head was Addion Malfoy’s words of love with Draco, and how Luna proclaimed it too. Was she so blind to see that there was something there? That when she thought he hated her, he still had the picture of her on his desk. And why would he come to her rescue when she needed him most? Why would he continue to defend her every time her name even came up? Draco sighed. “Look, it’s late. You should get some sleep.” He moved to get off of the bed, but Ginny grabbed his arm and held him back. She felt her face grow red, and she began to shake out of nerves. “Don’t leave,” she said. Draco looked at her, only slightly surprised. “What? Do you want a sleeping potion again?” Ginny stared at him before slowly shaking her head. “That’s not what I want,” she said, her voice above a whisper. “I want you to stop lying to me.” Draco’s eyebrows burrowed in confusion. “I don’t understand. Lie about what?” Ginny inched closer to him, and saw his eyes dart from her lips to her own eyes. “About how you feel about me,” she said. Ginny noticed his eyes widen, but only for a second. “Ginny, I-” But Ginny didn’t give him the chance to respond before she leaned in and kissed him. It was just a quick kiss, short enough to not give him time to reject her. Ginny pulled back and looked into his clouded eyes. “I want you to show me exactly how you feel about me,” she whispered. She noticed Draco’s breathing quicken, but he made no move. He seemed frozen in place as he sat next to her in bed. As time went by, fear set in. What if Ginny had misjudged him? What if he was only doing all of this for her because she was his property, and he wanted to protect what was his? What if Addion and Luna got it all wrong? What if there really was nothing there, and she was as alone as she thought she was? Ginny leaned back, and was about to apologize, when Draco grabbed her shoulders and pulled her in, pressing his lips against hers, hard. Ginny gasped at his touch, but only for a moment before she feverishly kissed back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close as he nipped at her bottom lip and then swept his tongue into her mouth. He leaned into her so suddenly that he fell on top of her, with her back onto the bed and him on top of her. Only the sheets separated them, but Draco continued to kiss her, from her mouth to all the way down her neck, leaving sweet kisses along the way. Ginny’s breathing was heavy as Draco stopped and looked up at her. “Are you sure you want me to show you?” he said before leaning down and kissing her. “Because if I do, I can’t stop this time, Ginny. There’s just too much to show.” Ginny stared into his gray eyes, and then his slightly bruised lips, and realized all she wanted was them on her. “Yes,” she said. Draco stared down at her before nodding, and bent down to kiss her as he slowly pushed the sheets away from her body. ~*~ Before I get attacked for the evil cliff hangar, I promise chapter eleven soon! I have one more scene to write, then it’s whisked off to my beta. I hope to have it up by the beginning of next week. Then I have finals and will be back home for a week or two, but plan on getting some writing done there. Summer shouldn’t slow down the updates--if anything it will speed them up! I hope you enjoyed, and please review! Liz21 11. Chapter Eleven ------------------ Hello my faithful readers!! Sorry once again for the late update. If finals weren’t bad enough, a few days before my exams I got in a car accident (my poor car with my Slytherin bumper sticker is totaled) and was a bit out of it for a few days. I’m fine now, but between being too sore to type, studying and taking finals, and saying goodbyes, writing got a bit delayed. But the good news is it is now summer break, and I don’t start school or work for a few more weeks, so I’m hoping to pop out a few more chapters in my free time. Also, I’d like to introduce a fairly-new beta, Wolfey. She’s been editing older chapters for another site, and this is the first chapter she’s edited for this site. So thanks to her for getting this chapter done so quickly. Now, on to the show! This chapter is in dedication to all of my readers. Thanks for being patient. Chapter Eleven As Draco slowly pulled back the covers, Ginny felt like her heart was going to burst. The last time they were on her bed together, the action between them was so fast paced, that it didn’t give Ginny time to think. But now Draco was taking his time, clearly trying not to do what he did before - by rushing. Once the sheets were pulled back, Ginny discovered she was wearing a long T-shirt, just like she preferred to wear to bed at Hogwarts. When she noticed that Draco too was studying her in the long shirt, she blushed. She suddenly wished she were wearing something sexy--maybe a lacy nightgown. As Draco’s eyes moved from her hips to her eyes, she wondered if he had taken many women, and how beautiful they were. Before she could start to feel self-conscious, Draco crawled over her and kissed her hips, lightly at first. The pressure was so soft that Ginny almost couldn’t feel it, until the kiss deepened. Ginny ran her hand through his hair, and not being able to help herself, she tugged on it slightly. Draco moaned against her lips, and to her surprise, dug himself into her. Ginny gasped at feeling himself on her, and when she opened her mouth it gave Draco entrance with his tongue. It prodded gently, but when Ginny kissed back, it intensified. Soon Ginny’s arms were around his neck, holding him down as close as he could get, and Draco’s hands were tangled into his hair as his body was pressed up against her own. Ginny felt her blood rise and a sweat break out; she felt like she couldn’t get enough of him. She just wanted to taste him; she wanted to have him. At the moment, she understood Draco’s obsession for her, because she felt she couldn’t get enough of him. Draco pulled back, leaving both of them panting. His hair was out of place, and his cheeks were red. Without a word, he lifted himself up enough so he could reach down and tug at the end of Ginny’s T-shirt, pulling it up her body. Ginny lifted herself off the bed as Draco drew it over her head, and then he tossed it aside. She was left in only her underwear and the strapless bra she wore under her dress. At least those two garments were sexy, she thought to herself. Draco seemed to take little notice of them, though, only that they were in the way. His hand dug beneath her back, and finding the hook, he undid the bra so quickly that it either impressed Ginny - or made her slightly apprehensive. He too tossed that aside, and before Ginny could feel the cool air hit her bare chest, he bent down and enveloped one nipple into his mouth. Ginny gasped aloud at feeling Draco’s tongue swirl around her. His lips sucked on her gently at first, and then seemed to grow hungry and the pressure increased. Ginny’s back arched at his touch as the pleasure intensified, and just when she thought it couldn’t get any better, she felt his other hand snake down to her underwear and slip underneath the material. Ginny almost jumped when she felt his fingers between her legs, but they were barely there before he slipped them inside, this time making her buck. “Oh!” she gasped. She didn’t know what to concentrate on: Draco at her breast, or his fingers curling inside of her. The pleasure doubled as Draco pulled his fingers back out and then in, each time with more force. Ginny gripped her hands onto his shoulders, feeling the need to hold on to something. But then her hands moved from his shoulder to the front where she hastily tried to undo the dress robe, and tried to push it off his shoulders. She needed to see him naked; she needed to touch him like he was touching her. Draco lifted his head from her chest, his mouth halfway open and panting. He shook his head as he continued to work his fingers in her, pumping them and curling, working them harder and harder with each stroke. “You first,” he said before he kissed her, biting the bottom of her lip. “First you come, and then we move on.” Ginny couldn’t answer; the pleasure she was feeling was too intense. Her hands let go of him and dug right back into the sheets. Her body strained and shook as Draco’s other hand felt the sensitive nub between her legs, and when he encircled it with his thumb, Ginny felt herself burst. Her climax left her panting and feeling weak. As she lay there, feeling completely helpless, she lazily watched as Draco climbed out of bed and took off his clothes and shoes. To the eye, he seemed so relaxed about doing it, as if it was everyday he would undress when he had a half-naked woman in bed next to him, whom he just made orgasm. But when Ginny looked closer, she saw his fingers were shaking as he undid buttons, and he practically kicked his shoe off. When he went to push down his boxers, Ginny couldn’t help but blush and look away. When she felt him climb back onto the bed, she looked at him and felt her face grow red. She forgot how gorgeous he was when naked. Tentatively, she reached over and touched his chest, grazing her fingers over the hard surface, and down to his stomach where the abs poked out. She glanced up at Draco’s face and saw his eyes closed. Ginny couldn’t help but smirk at knowing how she affected him. And, before she lost her courage, her hand drifted down farther and grasped his length. Draco’s eyes popped open when she wrapped her hand around him, and then slowly at first, she began to move her hand up and down. Draco let out a groan and his body buckled slightly, but he kept his weight up as he sat next to Ginny in bed. Ginny’s other hand pulled his face towards her and she kissed his lips hungrily as her other hand continued to pump him, growing with intensity. She had never done anything so exhilarating; giving Draco pleasure was an amazing feeling to her. It was a complete power trip. Draco let go of her lips and put his head on her shoulder as he panted. She felt his muscles strain and tense as her hand moved. She felt he was close to climax, but as soon as she thought he’d come, he pulled away from her. Ginny frowned. “But, Draco-” Draco shook his head before his hands reached down for her underwear and hurriedly pulled them off. “If you keep on doing that, I won’t be able to do anything for awhile,” he said before leaning back up and kissing her. Draco laid on top of Ginny, this time his legs between her own. As his naked body pressed into her own, Ginny’s heart raced. She knew what was going to happen next--for the first time ever, she was going to have sex. She was going to loser her virginity to a Malfoy, and she had no guilt about it anymore. But the thought made her quickly look at the frame next to her, and to her happiness, found that Draco already turned it around. She looked back to see Draco looking at her. “Are you sure, Ginny?” he asked. “Because I can’t stop now. I can’t-” But Ginny just grabbed his face and kissed him. It reminded her of how she would kiss Harry to silence him, but it wasn’t like that anymore. She wanted to silence Draco, but to have him keep on going. Draco took her kiss as a yes, because he nudged her legs apart farther with his knee. His hand slipped between her legs again, and played with her briefly before he pulled his hand away and positioned himself at her entrance. Ginny gripped the pillow underneath her head, waiting for the pain she knew she’d feel. Draco bent down and kissed her lips, and with one quick thrust, he entered and filled her. But instead of the pain she thought she would feel, she only felt immediate pleasure. Both groaned and stayed still for a moment, before Ginny lightly bucked her hips up and then Draco started to move. Just like when his fingers were in her, he pulled out slightly, but then thrusted back in, each time harder and faster. Ginny grabbed onto his shoulders as she felt herself whimper out of pleasure; she never knew it could feel that good. Draco bent down and kissed her hard between each thrust, digging his hands into her hair as he held himself up and over her. Ginny’s hands released his shoulders and her nails scratched down his back, causing Draco to moan and then quicken his pace. Sweat covered both of their bodies as they moved together frantically. Ginny’s legs wrapped around Draco’s body tightly as she felt the familiar ache of pleasure swell up in her. She didn’t know why, but she made sure she was looking straight into Draco’s eyes as she came again. As soon as she came, she felt Draco’s body shake as he came right after her. Draco dropped on top of her and he breathed heavily into her ear, but she welcomed the weight. Her hands skimmed his sweaty back as they both breathed heavily, both of their hearts racing. After it seemed Draco was able to move, he pulled himself out of her, to her disappointment, but when he rolled off, he pulled her with him. It felt odd to her to be cuddling up next to him, with his arm around her and pressing her into his naked body, but considering what they had just done together, she figured it shouldn’t be that weird. Soon, weariness tugged at her heavy eyelids, and Ginny’s breath matched Draco’s calming heartbeat. Ginny let the sudden exhaustion she felt overtake her, and she closed her eyes for a troubled sleep. ~*~ “Do it, Weasley.” Ginny looked up--she was no longer lying next to Draco. She looked around with horror on her face and a knot in her stomach. She was back in her cell at prison. A dagger was thrown into her cell, mixing in with the hay on the floor. Ginny stared at it in horror, but couldn’t move. “No,” she whispered to the cloaked person that stood at the door. “No, I won’t.” “Fine then,” a female voice said. “Then die tomorrow by the Dark Lord. I’m just trying to do you a favor, that’s all.” The woman left her with a cruel laugh, leaving Ginny alone with the sharp object. She stared at it, her arms wrapped around her knees, for a whole hour, and didn’t move until screams filled the hall. “No!” a woman sobbed. “No, please no, I don’t want to die! Please, I’ll do anything!” A smack filled the hallway, silencing the screaming woman. Someone in the cell next to hers cried quietly. Ginny covered her ears. “Shut up!” she screamed. “Just shut up-get out of my head!” She wanted the screams to stop, she was sick of all the crying. Why couldn’t they be strong like Hermione? She never cried when they took her to her death. The moonlight reflected off the dagger, catching Ginny’s eyes. She wondered if her family cried, or if they faced death bravely. Or what about Harry-did he go down fighting for his life, or did he give in, too weak to survive? Ginny inched over to the blade, crawling on her hands and knees. She’d give anything just to see her family again, just to share one more hug and one more smile. She picked the dagger up in her hand. She was so alone, so empty. Everyone had gone and deserted her. Everyone had to die and leave her alone. She felt something warm on her wrist. She looked down and blinked, seeing blood flow from an open wound. When did she do that? She glanced at the red tip of the blade held in her hand, and didn’t even flinch as she took it again and dragged it over the open wound, pressing down even harder. She heard footsteps down the hall and two men talking. “He won’t notice if we took a little break,” one man said. “We guard her all day long anyway.” Quickly, she told herself, pressing down harder, causing more blood to stream out over her skin. A small puddle collected on the floor. She started to see black spots as she closed her eyes. She felt suddenly heavy, and she dropped the blade with a clang as she felt her body fell back, suddenly tired. Almost there, she whispered to herself. Soon she would see her family. Soon. Ginny awoke with a sharp gasp-she couldn’t breathe or move-something was holding her down. She squirmed as she let out a sharp scream. She needed to fight death; she couldn’t die. Whatever was holding her down released her. She bolted up from sitting position and found herself naked. Why was she naked? “Ginny? Ginny!” Someone was shaking her shoulders, making her dizzy. She felt herself fall backwards, but someone caught her. “Easy now,” they told her as they lifted her into their arms. “Just take a deep breath. You’re having a panic attack.” Yes, she decided, breathing was good. She listened to the voice and took a deep breath, her pulse racing. She shut her eyes tightly, and didn’t open them until she could focus straight. There staring at her with a worried face was Draco. “What happened?” Ginny asked as he laid her down on the bed. “You had a nightmare,” he said as pulled up a blanket and wrapped her in it. “You were twitching and moaning then suddenly you freaked out and woke up.” Ginny stared at him. “A nightmare?” she asked. She stared at the top of the canopy bed, trying to remember what she dreamt of. She remembered voices and screaming. It was dark and- Suddenly Ginny clutched her left wrist. “I remember,” she said as she stared at the long, pink scar. “It was when…when I tried to kill myself.” She felt Draco’s body stiffen. “I remember that night,” he said. “Crabbe and Goyle left their guard duty- they found you in a pool of your own blood with a dagger.” “Oh,” she said softly, “so those were the voices I heard.” Draco shook his head. “I almost killed them after that. I don’t even know how you managed to get a dagger in the first place.” “A woman gave it to me,” Ginny said, “while the guards were gone.” Draco scrunched his face in confusion. “What do you mean a woman? What did she look like?” Ginny shook her head. “I don’t know-her hood was up, and her voice was odd, like she used a charm to hide it. It still sounded feminine, just couldn’t recognize it.” Draco ran a hand through his hair and got up and paced in front of her. Ginny blushed at seeing his naked body. “But that doesn’t make sense,” Draco said. “There were no women on duty that night. And why would anyone do that in the first place?” “She said she was trying to help me,” Ginny said quietly. “She said that I was to be killed the next day, and that if I had any Gryffindor courage, I’d take my own life before I let someone else do it.” Draco stopped in front of her. “But you were never on the list to be killed,” he said. “All the guards knew that you weren’t to be touched.” Ginny stared at him. “Then why would she do that?” Draco shook his head. “I don’t know. Unless-” He paused and shook his head. “Unless it was Pansy!” Ginny yelled, sitting upright in excitement. “It must have been her! She was always treating me horribly in prison, not to mention when I ran into her at the robe shop.” Draco ran a hand through his hair. “Sure, she hates you, but enough to try to kill you? What would be her motive? But it couldn’t have been her--she was with me that night.” Ginny paused at his words. Like when she had wondered earlier if he had been with other women, the thought crept into her mind again. She stared down at Draco, naked, and thought of what they had just done together, and if he had done it with other women. Of course, she highly doubted that he too was a virgin before he took her own virginity. An image of Pansy being on top of Draco crossed her mind, and it suddenly made Ginny feel ill. The thought of any woman touching Draco made her feel sick, in fact. It didn’t make her feel right thinking that Draco could have touched someone else the way that he touched her. Ginny stared at her hands and licked her lips. “Did you and Pansy ever…” was all she could spit out. Draco was silent for a moment, making Ginny’s heart plummet. Of course they were together; everyone knew they were an item at Hogwarts. Since Ginny could remember, Pansy was always following Draco around, swooning after him like Ginny did to Harry. Except in Ginny’s situation, she had never felt strongly enough about Harry to actually have sex with him. Draco’s deep laugh knocked Ginny out of her thoughts. She looked over at him, amazed. “Not you too,” he said as he lay down onto the bed, with his arms behind his head. “Though I guess everyone did think we were shagging at Hogwarts.” Ginny’s heart filled with relief, and as she looked at Draco smiling and with a twinkle in his eyes, she decided he had never looked so handsome. “So, you two never…” Draco shook his head and stared up ahead of him. “It’s actually kind of funny if you think about it. I guess we were like you and Potter--just for show. Father wanted me to date her--said it looked good for my appearance to be with a Pureblood. Pansy was of course happy about it. She’s liked me since we were little.” “But to never had done it--she must have been willing.” “Oh, Pansy tried several times,” Draco said. “I can’t even count how many times she tried to jump me.” Ginny frowned. It didn’t make sense for a teenage boy to pass up sex with his willing girlfriend. “So why didn’t you-” Draco looked at her. “Because,” he said, “she wasn’t the one that I wanted.” Ginny paused at his words, and was aware of a blush creeping over her face. He had said enough, and it only made her question once more how long he had wanted her for. Did it start back at Hogwarts? Of course, it must have, but for how long? How long did he want her while he continued to tease her family and her friends? During all those times of making her cry, of getting in fights with Ron and Harry, was he secretly obsessed with her? Ginny wondered about the torture he must have felt from his feelings for her; of everything he boasted to be and stand for, what were the odds of falling for the enemy? Ginny was aware of Draco staring at her. He reached up his hand and cupped her face. “Come here,” he said softly, as he lightly pulled her down so he could kiss her. Ginny leaned down and kissed his lips softly. It just felt like the right thing to do, instead of worrying about how long he wanted her. And she knew he would never tell her--the fact that he wanted her at all was never actually spelt out. He just showed it in his own ways. What started out as a soft kiss ended left Ginny breathless. With Draco lying down, she was aware that she was in control of the kiss, and of whatever else she wanted to do. And at the moment, she wanted to keep on kissing Draco. To know that he had never been with Pansy, and that he had just been with her only moments ago, made her want to claim him once more. She suddenly wanted Pansy to know that she could never have him. She wanted Draco in the way that Harry had always wanted her. It was like a fever; it made her hot and sent chills throughout her body, but it was something she never wanted to come down from. Ginny pressed down harder onto Draco’s lips, feeling as if she couldn’t get enough of him. Suddenly feeling daring, or maybe enough passion had built in her that she just exploded, Ginny tossed the blanket off of her and climbed on top of Draco. She glanced down at Draco’s face to see his eyes widen at her move, but before he could get a word in she bent down, and bit his bottom lip as she dug both of her hands into his hair, tugging slightly. Draco’s hips bucked up as he let out a groan. Ginny couldn’t help but let out an impish grin. This is what Draco must have felt when he was on top of her, having his way with her. Ginny bent down and kissed his neck, sucking lightly on it before she followed her way up to his ear and nibbled on his ear lobe. She felt Draco strain underneath her as her kisses moved down his neck and onto his chest. Further and further down she went, licking his navel, and the further down she went the heavier he breathed. When she had gotten to between his legs, Ginny paused and looked up at Draco. His eyes were halfway closed, his cheeks were red, and his mouth was open and panting. She had never seen him so undone. If he were already like this, he would be squirming in a moment. And just like in the dream she had of him, the one where he was in her bed, Ginny bent over and captured his length in her mouth. Draco’s hips jumped at her touch, sending him even further into her mouth, and Ginny took him greedily. He had always been so personal with her, and this time, it was her turn. She wanted to know what he tasted like, what he felt like. She wanted to make him as much hers as she was his. “Oh, Merlin,” Draco muttered as she sucked and licked him. Though the only time she had done this was in a dream, her mouth and hands seemed to know what to do. She seemed to know that if she licked him here, it would make Draco jump, and if she applied more pressure there, it would make him moan. But just when she was getting the hang of it, Draco strangled out, “Ginny, Ginny please, I can’t hold it must longer. Climb-climb on top of me.” Though she wanted to continue to please him, she was only too willing. Getting him off was giving herself the same effects, and she felt that if she didn’t have him in her in another minute, she would die. Ginny let go of him, and crawled back up to him. Draco was now sweaty and red in the face, but he was able to move his arms and his hands gripped her hips. He directed her over his length, and the moment she felt him poking her entrance, Ginny slammed down on him. They both gasped out loud at the force of her move. Ginny’s knees dug onto either side of Draco’s body as she straddled him, and in a moment she was able to move again. She wanted to tell Draco that she didn’t know what to do, but to her surprise her hips started to move, and she began to ride him. Draco gripped on her hips tightly as he helped lift her up and down, each time faster and harder. Now on top and in control, Ginny couldn’t help but speed things up. Before Draco had taken his time with her, not wanting to hurt her, but now Ginny wanted it fast and hard. She knew she’d be sore the next day, but she greatly welcomed it with each thrust when she felt Draco hit her at a certain angle that left her moaning. And being on top hit angles that she didn’t feel before, Ginny discovered. Ginny leaned forward a bit more, and practically saw stars as she thrusted down onto Draco. Her pace quickened as she felt the knot of pleasure build up in her; she was determined to intensify it before she exploded. She looked up at Draco, and he must have known what she was trying to do, because his hands quickly grasped her breasts and pinched her nipples. Draco’s touch sent her flying over the edge. She arched her back as she came and let out a yell, and managed to stay on top until Draco came too, shortly after. As soon as he was done, Ginny collapsed on top of Draco, feeling she would never be able to move again. Her heart was racing and her breath was short, but she felt glorious. She had never known that sex could feel so good. She had wondered why she had waited so long, but was suddenly glad that she got to experience her first time with Draco. In fact, she had gone through many first times with him, only having kissed Harry. Ginny rolled off of Draco and let out a moan of pain at her sore hips. She knew she rode him too hard. Draco looked over at her and frowned. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Ginny shook her head and lay down next to him. “Not like that,” she said. But at her own words she paused, and fear started to creep into her belly. Not like that…not like the pain she was supposed to feel from being a virgin…not like the pain she didn’t feel when he took her the first time. She sat up quickly and turned onto Draco. “It didn’t hurt,” she said quickly, her eyes wide. “It didn’t hurt--why didn’t it hurt?” Draco deepened his frown and sat up. “Ginny, what are you talking about?” But thoughts and images started to pour into Ginny’s head, of just having found out hours before that Luna was raped by Flint, and then of Flint attacking her himself. And panic rose in her as she thought of the month she spent in prison, and of hearing night after night of women getting raped, and always waiting for her to be next. Always waiting every night to be woken up with some man on top of her. But to her knowledge, it never happened. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe. Ginny gripped at her chest as tears stung her eyes. She felt Draco jump next to her, and then he was in front of her and his hands were on her shoulders. She was reacting the same way she did when she thought Hermione was raped by Flint, only it wasn’t Hermione, but it was Luna, and the thought still made her sick. Draco shook her shoulders. “What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked frantically. Ginny struggled to breathe and could only shake her head. Finally she took a sharp breath and spit out, “Did anyone ever come into my cell?” Draco pulled back. “What are you talking about? Of course not; Crabbe and Goyle guarded it.” Ginny shook her head, this time crying. “But how could you trust those two?” she asked, finally able to breathe freely now that she could spit out what was going through her mind. “How do you know those two never tried anything, or that they did let anyone in?” “Because they would have known I’d kill them,” Draco said. “That’s if you found out,” Ginny said. “And you wouldn’t have known of anything if I didn’t know of anything.” Draco slowly shook his head. “Ginny, what are you talking about?” “I-” Ginny said, but had problems saying it now. “Something’s not right. When…when we did it, the first time, I didn’t feel any pain. Not one bit of it.” Draco’s face scrunched in confusion. “So?” “So I was a virgin, Draco! Remember-I told you I never had sex with Harry. I never had sex with anyone, but when I had sex with you, I felt like I had done it already before.” Draco was silent for a moment, but then he slowly started to shake his head as the realization crept in. “No one touched you, Ginny,” he said. “I made sure of that. That’s why I had Crabbe and Goyle guard you, so you wouldn’t get-” “Raped?” Ginny said. “Like every other woman in that prison?” But Draco kept on shaking his head. “No, no, it didn’t happen,” he said. “I would have known--you would have known.” “Not if they erased my memory,” she said, quieting down. It just all started to make sense. To live in such a place for a month and to never be touched just didn’t seem realistic. Knowing how Flint wanted her, how were Crabbe and Goyle to be trusted? But now Draco was pink in the face. “It didn’t happen,” he said, his tone angry. He let her go and jumped out of bed and reached for his clothes and hurriedly put them back on. Ginny watched in slight shock as he struggled to put his dress robe back on, with his face pink and his hair messed up. “Where are you going?” she asked. Had she angered him at her accusation? Did he think she was implying that he had done something to her in her cell? Ginny stopped at her own thought--did she think Draco could even be capable of that? “To talk to Crabbe and Goyle,” Draco said, finally done with his dressing. He looked up at her. “If you want proof, I’ll get you proof.” But before Ginny could answer, Draco walked out of the room, slamming the door as he left. Ginny stared at the door in shock, her mouth wide open, and after a moment she gathered the blanket around her naked body and curled up into a ball. Was she being overdramatic for thinking such a thing could happen to her? Or was it probable to assume the worst? She had always counted herself lucky to not be raped in prison, but how lucky was she? If someone had once tried to kill her by suicide, wouldn’t have someone at least tried to get at her in another way? She thought of Luna, and what had happened to her, and even Hermione, and wondered if anything had happened to her. Draco said they were protected, but Ginny could only imagine the things that went on behind Draco’s back. Her mind was racing with too many thoughts to fall asleep, so she stayed awake and waited for Draco to return. She wondered if he had gone back to the party to find Crabbe and Goyle, and of what kind of trouble he would get into there. Surely Flint would have awoken by then--what would happen if he ran into Draco? And Flint would have told Pansy about Ginny’s appearance; suddenly, Ginny worried more about Draco’s safety then her own situation. She must have drifted off to sleep, because Ginny awoke with a start when she heard a loud bang coming from downstairs. She sat up, holding the blanket to her chest. “Draco?” she called out, but there was no response. Now worried, Ginny got out of bed, wincing as her tired legs were put into use. She let go of the blanket and reached her robe that was on the inside of the bathroom door. She jumped when she heard another bang from below, as if something was knocked over. Ginny tied the robe as tightly as she could and then crept out of the room. The lights in the hallway were dimmed for the night, and the whole setting sent a chill down her spine. She started to walk towards her room to grab her wand, but when she heard someone--or something--shuffle downstairs, she stopped. Hoping she wasn’t making a mistake, she headed towards the staircase instead of wasting time getting her wand. For all she knew, Draco was in trouble, and needed her attention right away. She walked down the stairs and into the dark main foyer. Her heart raced as she stood in the dark room; she held her breath as she waited for another noise, a signal, something that would direct her on where to go. She suddenly wished that she had her wand, and thought of going back to get it when she heard another noise--voices coming from the drawing room. As she neared the room, the voices grew slightly louder, but they were muffled. Ginny had a hard time telling who they were, but more importantly was why they were in Malfoy Manor at that time of night. Did Draco bring Crabbe and Goyle back to prove to her that nothing happened? Ginny drew the robe tighter around her; she didn’t want those two or anyone to see her in that condition. She got enough from the party that everyone assumed that as Draco’s prize, she was sleeping with him. How could she explain to them that it wasn’t like that, when she herself didn’t know exactly what it was. She had been too wrapped up in everything else to even go over the fact that she did sleep with Draco Malfoy, and that most confusing of all, was that she liked it. Lights shone from the drawing room entrance. She stopped when she was just outside the door. Here she could hear two distinctly male voices speaking--Draco and Snape. Confused, Ginny pressed her back against the wall, and holding her breath, she very slowly looked around the corner, and tried not to gasp at what she saw. Draco was sitting on the couch, facing her, with what looked to be a cut along his cheek. Snape was standing in front of him with his wand out, and Ginny only had a glimpse of a bit of blood from the wound before Snape cleared it away. “I really don’t know what you were thinking showing up like that,” Snape said as he put his wand away. “It didn’t take Flint long to realize who attacked him.” Draco gingerly touched his healed cheek. “I didn’t think he’d have the guts to go after me,” he said. “All this time I thought he was all talk.” Draco stood from his seat and walked over to the bar, crossing the door and making Ginny hide her face. When she heard the clang of glasses and knew that Draco was occupied, Ginny looked back in the room and watched as Draco took a sip from a glass of brandy before walking back and giving another glass to Snape. Snape sniffed the liquid before he put the glass down on the table. “How Flint reacted is beside the point. It was risky enough for you to attack him like you did-” “He was the one attacking Ginny!” Draco yelled, slamming his glass down on the table. “Did you expect me to just let him have a go?” “It was risky enough for you to attack him like you did over someone who is a blood traitor and a mere prize,” Snape finished. “For you to attack a fellow Death Eater over a Weasley-” “I’m only protecting what’s mine,” Draco growled. “Flint would do the same over his own woman.” Snape’s eyebrows rose. “Are you suggesting that Miss Weasley is your woman?” Ginny saw Draco’s face pale slightly before he grabbed his drink and began to pace the room. “All I’m saying is that she is mine, despite the content,” he said. He stopped moving and stared at Snape. “And you were only too quick to help me with Flint. Why the sudden loyalty to a Weasley?” Ginny held her breath, and for once congratulated Snape on his complete seriousness. Of course, her conversation with Snape on where his loyalty stood was a complete secret. Ginny herself still wondered if Snape was true about him being on her side, and it didn’t occur to her until now how odd it must have seemed for Snape to help her in front of Draco. But none of this must have appeared troublesome to Snape, because his face barely flickered with emotion. He calmly picked up his glass, took a sip of his brandy, and then settled the glass back down before looking at Draco. “In the world we live in now, it’s hard to have those you can side with. I thought you would take my aid with appreciation instead of being critical.” Ginny watched Draco eye Snape before he let out a sigh. “Of course, my apologies,” Draco said. He took another sip of his brandy. “Does Flint have any idea you were involved?” Snape shook his head. “Once you and Miss Weasley were safely away, I revived Flint and made it appear I had just found him. But that’s not the problem here. Let us hope that your choice of actions will not get back to the Dark Lord. He won’t take your behavior lightly, despite it being over a…prize.” Draco was still before he slowly nodded. “I don’t think Flint will take it that far,” he said before he finished his drink. But as Ginny watched him continue to stare at his glass, she wasn’t so sure how convinced he seemed. Snape cleared his throat. “I couldn’t help but notice that you were speaking with Crabbe before Flint attacked you. Did it have something to do with Miss Weasley?” Draco looked up at Snape with confusion. “How did you know?” Ginny watched Snape fight a smirk. “It seems that the only orders you have been giving him and Goyle these past few weeks have been over her. If I’m not to be mistaken, their extra attention towards her has certainly been in her favor.” Draco ran a hand through his hair, which was still slightly ruffled. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell her,” he said. “Ginny--she--” Draco paused and stared at the floor for a moment. “How can you prove something when you know it never happened?” Snape frowned. “Complexity at its best,” he said. “Is there no way around it?” Draco shrugged his shoulders. “She thinks something may have happened, and that her memory was erased to prevent her from knowing about it. But there’s nothing that can get through memory blocks, right?” “Not necessarily,” Snape said. “Some say that lost memories can be recovered when triggered by something powerful. And then there are those like myself who are trained to seek out if a person does indeed have a memory blockage. I can take a look at her, if you want. I won’t be able to tell you what is being blocked, but I can tell if it’s there.” Ginny’s heart leapt. A part of her wanted Snape’s help, and wanted to know if her memory was blocked, but the other part was troubled. What would be the good in knowing that her memory was blocked, when she couldn’t find out what it was hiding? To know such a fact may drive her insane with wondering what had happened in her life that was so big, so horrible, that someone chose to erase it. Draco must have come to the same conclusion, because he shook his head. “No, I don’t think that will be necessary. What she fears I know didn’t happen. She’ll just have to trust me.” “Does she?” Snape asked. “Trust you, I mean.” Ginny felt just as startled as Draco looked at Snape’s question. Trust--what was trust? Did trust exist in a world full of evil? Could she ever truly trust Draco, when she still didn’t know what his true motives were with her, when she knew he was still full of secrets, many of them including her? Could she ever learn to trust the man that took part in killing all those she loved? She closed the bathrobe around her tighter, suddenly aware of how naked she truly felt. “Trust,” Draco finally answered, “is a tricky thing that I don’t think any of us should take lightly.” It must have been enough of an answer for Snape, because he nodded before he stood from his seat. “I must be going--it’s late. I expect you at work soon, yes?” Ginny didn’t wait for Draco’s response, but tried to walk away as fast from the room as she could without making a noise. She held her breath as she climbed up the stairs, praying neither of the men would come out to find her there and realize that she had been listening the whole time. Ginny just slipped into the covers of her bed when she heard the door open softly. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to control her breathing as she listened to Draco take off his clothes and then sink into the bed next to her. Her heart nearly jumped out of her throat when she felt him grab for her and pull her body close to his, but when his breathing fell into a steady pattern, so did hers. As Ginny lay there, with Draco holding onto her, she couldn’t help but rethink what Draco said about trust. He didn’t truly answer Snape’s question--did he doubt her trust for him? Did he too realize that he had done little to gain it, and that there were still too many things unanswered? Draco shifted slightly, and Ginny felt her face grow red in realization that he was completely naked. It wanted to trouble her that she could sleep with a man that she had little to no trust in, but she had figured that so far everything with Draco made no sense to begin with. And as she felt Draco’s heartbeat against her, and listened to his easy breathing, she for the first time allowed herself to relax and take things as they came. ~*~ Look! No cliffhanger! You guys should be so proud of me! Hope you enjoyed! Please review! 12. Chapter Twelve ------------------ Hello, all! Yes, it’s been almost a month since my last update. Summer is, unfortunately, a lot more hectic than I thought it would be, and my writing time has been cut down severely. Before I would write in the mornings, but now I have a three hour geology class every morning (ew) but the good news with that is it will be over in a month. And with the last book coming out around that time, I will get another chapter in before that, hopefully two, as we’ll all be busy reading the new book for a bit. Plus, I have to take in my betas’ busy schedules--I’m actually uploading this with only having heard back from one of my betas. Anyways, enjoy! ~*~ Ginny was sitting in an empty classroom at Hogwarts. It was an odd feeling, she thought to herself, to be aware of the fact that she was dreaming. How could she not be, when she knew the school was one of the first things to be destroyed after Dumbledore’s death? Professor McGonagall had kept it running for as long as she could, but without Dumbledore’s protection, the school soon fell with the rest of wizard kind. But here she was, sitting on a desk as if waiting for someone. It was dark out, and she was in her old uniform. Ginny played with her Gryffindor tie, missing what she once had. She felt the material of her robe, slightly scratchy from being second-hand, but it felt so real against her fingertips. Even an owl that hooted outside the window made her jump. She hopped off the desk and walked over to a window, where she could see the moonlight reflecting off the lake below. Somewhere she heard a clock chime, and according to it, it was midnight. “Promise me you’ll always be mine.” Ginny let out a yelp and turned around. Draco was standing behind him with a sullen look on his face. Ginny frowned at him in his Slytherin tie and his school robes. Yes, she decided, she was certainly dreaming, and what an odd one at that. This was twice now that she had replaced Draco for Harry at school, because never would she have been in such a situation with the Slytherin. But as she studied him more, he looked younger than the Draco she knew now. She was remembering Draco as he used to be, and was already replacing him for Harry. “Promise me,” he continued. “With everything that happens, you’ll always be mine.” His face turned dark. “I can’t let you be his.” His? But Harry was dead. Ginny shook her head; nothing was making any sense. “Draco, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But before her eyes, the younger Draco transformed into the Draco she knew. He grew several inches in height, his chest was broader, and he was out of his Hogwarts uniform. But he was still looking at Ginny with a sullen look, as if something terrible was about to happen. “I’ll find a way for you to be with me forever,” he said as he took out his wand. “You just have to trust me. Do you trust me, Ginny?” Ginny gaped at the wand pointing at her, her mouth moving like a fish. How could she trust him while he pointed his wand at her like that? “Wait, Draco-” “I’m sorry, Ginevra,” Draco whispered before a light flashed out of his wand and straight towards her, causing her to squeeze her eyes shut at the blinding light. When she opened her eyes, she knew she was in her bedroom at Malfoy Manor. Her heart was racing at the dream, but she soon began to settle down as she saw sunlight pouring through the open windows and hitting her in the face. That would explain the burst of light she dreamt of. And, for the sake of Draco being the source of light, that was easily explained considering he was still lying next to her and holding onto her tight. But her stomach was still doing a wild loop, as if it had just gone on a very real, very scary ride. She looked at the stand that held the picture of her family (that was still turned around) and stared at her wand lying next to it. To have a dream about being held up by the man she had just slept with couldn’t be a good sign. Snape’s warning to be careful of Draco echoed in her head. Ginny swore she would, but she was starting to think that sleeping with the man who was a Death Eater, resulted in a number of her loved ones’ deaths, and won her as a prize, wasn’t smart at all. With that thought in mind, she slowly turned over to face Draco. She held her breath as she moved, but when she shifted her body, all he did was grunt in his sleep and loosen his grip on her. From this position, staring at him while he slept, Ginny thought Draco was at his weakest point, and only then could she maybe decide what to do about him. She stared at his face, which really was handsome, and then at the lips that had just kissed her the night before. But those same lips years ago spat horrible insults at her friends and family, or would smirk in that horrible way of his. But then she was brought back to the remembrance of how gentle they were on her last night, when he knew how inexperienced she was with everything. If he was someone to be cautious of, wouldn’t he have just taken her for his own greedy use, and not cared about her own pleasure? Ginny squeezed her eyes shut for a moment; she just wanted to stop thinking. For just a moment, she wanted to forget who Draco really was, because it made everything easier. And every time she even tried to figure out just who he was, it made her mind do circles--she never felt like she was getting anywhere. She couldn’t deny, though, that she enjoyed her experience with him the night before, and her stomach fluttered at the thought of doing it again. When she opened her eyes again, Draco was staring right at her. Ginny’s breath hitched in her throat to see he was awake, and she briefly wondered if he could read minds, because by the look of his tense face, he seemed to know she was thinking up a storm. Or, maybe it was expected that she wouldn’t be necessarily laid back about just sleeping with him. Whatever the case was, Ginny was starting to wish he would say something, but Draco just continued to stare at her. There was no expression on his face, and it made Ginny want to squirm. He was sizing her up. He was waiting for her to make the first move, for her to say something and to show her reaction after their night together. But Ginny didn’t know what to do in a situation like this. Was she supposed to mention last night at all? Maybe compliment him on how great it felt? Or maybe he wanted to pretend it never happened at all. Maybe he was starting to realize how it may have been a huge mistake, and that there were just too many complications. And while her brain was reeling, and every second that went by in silence grew uncomfortable, she was aware of how close her naked body was to his, with only one sheet covering them from the waists down. To break the growing silence, Ginny decided to be safe and ask him what she already knew. “So, what happened last night?” she asked in a quiet voice as her eyes darted to the cheek where he had a cut the night before, but there was no scar. She knew the story--he found Crabbe, but Flint found Draco as well. And though there was trouble, nothing serious happened, and Draco still had no proof that she wasn’t raped. “You were wrong about what you think happened to you in your cell,” he said, his voice steady. Ginny’s eyebrows scrunched. By the sound of how he was talking about it with Snape last night, Draco was no sooner to figuring the truth out than he was before he left after they had sex. “How do you know?” she asked. She saw Draco’s mouth tighten, but only for a moment. “I talked to Crabbe last night. He swore that he never let anyone in. He knew that if he did, his life would be on the line.” “But how do you know he’s telling the truth? He could have been lying.” Draco slowly shook his head. “He’s too stupid to lie. When he does, it shows all over his face. I would have known.” At this response Ginny was silent. Draco was correct on Crabbe’s ability, or lack of, to lie. Out of the many times Draco or one of his goons tried to attack Ron or Harry at Hogwarts, Ginny had been around once when Professor McGonagall had caught Crabbe in the act, and to see Crabbe try to get out of it and fail miserably was enough proof. For a Slytherin, he wasn’t very sly, or crafty. But where it may have been something to believe Draco’s statement on Crabbe, when Draco talked to Snape about it the night before, he didn’t sound like such a statement would solve everything. To her surprise, Draco tightened his grip on her, and drew her so close to him, their lips were inches away. “I doubt you’ll listen to me, but if I told you not to worry about it, think you could try?” Draco asked, his voice lower and quieter. Ginny couldn’t help but glance at his lips, and then lick her own. Thoughts of what occurred between them the night before kept on drifting into her mind. She could have that again if she wanted to. All she had to do was lean forward, and kiss him. Their bodies were so close, his skin lightly skimmed her own. Oh, she thought, this was sexual tension at its best. And just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, she felt something harden against her, and she bet a million galleons it wasn’t Draco’s wand. Ginny looked up at Draco’s eyes, and saw that the serious look he had before was replaced with something entirely different. Her heart thumped as Draco’s hand that held her lightly grazed her skin while making circles with his fingers. She was barely aware that her breath was coming out in short pants, and that whatever confusing thoughts she had of Draco a moment ago were drifting away the more he touched her. She waited for Draco to kiss her, to make the first move, but he continued to stare at her and just play with her. When it was apparent that he was going to make no move, Ginny threw all her frustration out the window, all of her thoughts and fears, and leaned forward and kissed him hard. The moment her lips touched his, Draco was already on top of her, kissing her back. By the fierceness of his touch, Ginny could tell that the sexual tension she felt was just as bad on his end. Compared to his gentleness the night before, Ginny felt like Draco had grown into a wild animal over night. He was kissing her everywhere: her lips, her neck, her chest. He was nipping and sucking--hard. Ginny gasped when while he kissed her thoroughly, he pulled her bottom lip between her own and bit her, and then he moved back to ear where he nibbled the lobe. And all the while, his hands were everywhere, groping and touching and squeezing. All Ginny could do was try to keep up. She rubbed her body against his own, desperate for him to be in her. While he played with--or rather demolished--her breast, Ginny pulled at his hair, making his groan muffle against her nipple. In response he nipped at the sensitive skin, making Ginny gasp and buck her hips into his own. “P-please, Draco,” Ginny whimpered. Oh, how she hated to beg, but she wanted nothing more than him at the moment. Draco looked up at her and gave a smirk at her words; if she wasn’t so turned on, she would have rolled her eyes at knowing what she was doing to his already huge ego. But before she had to beg again, Draco position himself and entered her with one, quick thrust. They both groaned, but this time there was no stopping or slowing down. Ginny had to push her hands up against the headboard as Draco repeatedly slammed into her so hard, her whole body was inching forward. She had already orgasmed after a short moment, and again when Draco moved her legs from around his back to rest on his shoulders, hitting an angle so intense that she almost blacked out. Sweat was dripping down Draco’s face and onto Ginny, mixing in with her own. Ginny released her hands from the headboard and scratched her nails down Draco’s back so hard, that he finally came, taking her with him once more. They were both panting heavily as Draco collapsed onto Ginny once she moved her legs (which felt like liquid) from his shoulders. They had only just got their breathing to normal when Draco suddenly jumped off of her and clutched his left forearm. “No,” he hissed. “Not now.” Ginny leaned up on her trembling arms. “What is it?” But as she managed to sit up and take a peek, she wished she hadn’t. Her stomach dropped as she saw a black mark burning underneath Draco’s hand--it was the Dark Mark, and his master was calling for him. Ginny watched in shock as Draco scrambled off the bed, and grabbed his boxers. Not knowing what she was doing, Ginny went after him and grabbed his arm. “You can’t go,” she said desperately, knowing she was sounding like a fool. Who was she to prevent him from going to You-Know-Who? Draco stilled at her touch, but he avoided her eyes. “Ginny, don’t,” he said, and pulled his arm away from her. He reached for the robes he wore the night before, and pulled those on as well, his back to her the whole time. When Draco pulled his wand out, Ginny flung at him one more time in a desperate attempt. “Please, don’t,” she said, “please, for me. Don’t go to him.” She didn’t even know why she was throwing herself, naked, at him, to prevent him from doing his duty. She knew this is what he was. Draco finally looked at her, and he wasn’t annoyed like she thought he may have been. He was frowning, but his eyes looked worried, and no longer contained the seriousness they often held. “Don’t worry--I’ll be right back. Nothing is going to happen to me.” He touched her face lightly, and then with a pop he was gone. But when he disappeared, it finally hit her why she was acting like she was. It wasn’t because she didn’t like the idea of sleeping with someone under command of Voldemort, or that leaving after sex made her feel vulnerable, or that she just didn’t like the situation at all. The fear that crept into her belly the moment she saw the mark glow told her that something horrible was going to happen. Never once, since she was brought into Malfoy Manor, had Draco been called away so suddenly. And the night after Flint saw her at the party and tried to rape her, the night after Draco attacked his own kind for her, Draco was called away to the one and only person who could do anything about the situation. Snape had said so himself the night before that he wished that Voldemort would not learn of what Draco had done, because Voldemort would not take it lightly. That there would be a price to pay for Draco’s actions. And Draco would have to pay it, just because of her. ~*~ The moment she was dressed, Ginny owled Snape and told him what just happened. She thought if there was a time to test Snape’s loyalty to her, it was now. She wasn’t even sure what she was asking for him. She just told him that Draco was called away, and she had a bad feeling about it. After she sent the letter with Draco’s eagle owl, she stared out the window and watched it fly away. She didn’t know if she was overreacting or not. Of course she wouldn’t like the idea of Draco going to Voldemort--why would she? Just because her situation with Draco has changed, didn’t mean her views did. To pass the time and to try to get her mind off worrying, she had Flipsy find her a book that showed how to make a contraceptive potion. She could barely acknowledge the fact that she was sleeping with a Death Eater--she certainly didn’t want to have a Death Eater’s child. The potion, unfortunately, was a lot harder to make than she thought it would. She had always scored fairly in potions class, but she was finding it hard to concentrate. Twice she almost messed up the ingredients, and almost forgot to stir clockwise for two minutes. She thought to ask Flipsy for help, but then remembered the rule that no house-elf was allowed to make potions in Malfoy Manor, and she refused to ask Snape for help, if he should ever show up. It took an hour, but she trudged through the complicated potion, and set it aside to cool before she would drink it. After she washed her hands, Ginny took to wandering the halls of the manor. She felt as if she was walking in a daze, her mind was so unfocused. That’s why she was slightly startled when she found herself in front of the portrait that led to the secret garden. She immediately entered the room, knowing a dose of flowers and sunlight would do her some good. Plus, it was a spot that she felt little connection with Draco. She made to sit by the willow tree and maybe take a nap, feeling suddenly exhausted, but as if her feet had their own plan, she walked over to the daisies. She stared at her favorite flower and took in the beautiful scent as her thoughts went a mile per minute. Had Snape received her letter yet? Was there anything he could do to prevent Voldemort from hurting Draco? A part of Ginny tried to convince herself that nothing would happen at all--that her bad experiences from the war has transformed her into expecting the worse. But when it had to do with Voldemort-the one person responsible for ruining lives, how could she expect anything else? Her eyes drifted from the petals down to the soil where she last found a box full of secrets. She had almost forgotten about the secret letters she found, and that she knew it was Narcissa Malfoy’s. She had tried to speak to Draco’s mother about the letters, to figure out who she had written to during her days in Hogwarts, and if the reason behind the secret garden was for a place to hide those letters from her husband, Lucius. And as Ginny stared at the soil, it suddenly occurred to her that with Draco out of the house, he couldn’t stop her like last time from talking to Narcissa. Feeling slightly guilty at the prospect of sneaking off to Narcissa when Draco could be in trouble, Ginny dropped to her knees and dug her hands through the soil in search of the box. When her hands found nothing, she frowned and tried a new area on the other side of the daisies, though she was certain that wasn’t where she put the box back. After a moment passed and her hands were covered with dirt, she was still empty handed. Taking out her wand, she said a simple spell her mother used to move the soil while gardening. But to her astonishment, when the soil moved away from the daisies, nothing was there. There was only one person who could have removed the box. She thought back to when Draco found her by Narcissa’s portrait when Ginny had gone to ask her questions. Ginny had told Draco that she found a box of his mother’s by the daisies, and now that box was gone. A whole new dread washed over her as she replaced the soil and walked over to the fountain to wash her hands. If Draco had indeed taken the box of letters that meant he had read them, and would have figured out that Narcissa may have been involved with someone else that wasn’t his father. Ginny didn’t know how it would affect Draco--he had never talked about his father, which always made her thankful, but suddenly she found it odd how his name was never even spoken. She could understand why Draco refused to acknowledge his dead mother--he felt responsible for her death--but Ginny doubted Draco had as much as a role in Lucius’ death. She didn’t even know how Lucius died. It was a question she never wanted to ask Draco, or cared enough to think much about it. She was just glad he was gone; she couldn’t imagine having to live in Malfoy Manor with him. As she washed her hands, she stared at her reflection in the water. Her hair was still a mess from earlier with Draco. After she shook her hands dry, she grabbed her wand to fix her hair when a voice from behind spoke out. “This is interesting, a prisoner with a wand. I’m quite sure that’s forbidden.” Ginny jumped around and found herself pointing her wand at Snape. She let out a small breath of relief. “It’s only you,” she said as she lowered her wand. Snape raised an eyebrow. “I would not take being caught with a wand lightly, Miss Weasley,” Snape said. “If it was anyone but me who saw you just now, you couldn’t imagine the trouble that would arise. And Mr. Malfoy may already be in enough trouble as it is.” Ginny’s face dropped. The disappearance of the box almost made her forget about why Snape was there in the first place. “So you received my letter than?” she asked quickly. “Do you know what’s going on? Is there anything you can do?” “I stopped by headquarters on my way over here,” Snape said, “and as far as I had gathered, there is nothing to worry about. The Dark Lord was speaking to Draco in his private chambers, but rest assured I didn’t hear anything dreadful going on inside.” “But there could have been a silencing charm on the door,” Ginny said quickly. To her surprise, Snape smirked. “I assure you, if someone is being punished, the Dark Lord wants all to know.” Looking at Snape’s confident face, Ginny allowed herself to breathe again, but only a little. She knew she wouldn’t stop worrying until she saw Draco again in one piece. “But what interests me more than anything,” Snape continued, “is your avid worry for Draco. I thought I had warned you about getting too close.” Ginny’s mouth dropped. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Really? Please, explain to me then, if you’re not getting close to Draco, why there is a contraceptive potion cooling in the kitchen.” Ginny’s face burnt red, but at Snape’s accusing eyes, her anger spiked. She knew she was caught, but she didn’t know why she had to feel ashamed. “I don’t see how any of this is your business,” she snapped. Snape’s eyes flashed. “The last time I checked, Miss Weasley, I was risking my own neck to keep the last member of the Order safe, which all seems a waste now considering you’re throwing yourself right into what you should be staying away from.” “But you don’t even know if Draco is dangerous, do you?” Ginny asked. “He was responsible for half the deaths in the Order, and not to mention he was the one who found-” “I know what he did!” Ginny yelled. “I know he killed Hermione, and Lupin, and Harry’s death is on his hands as well. But he’s different towards me-” “It’s amazing that a little flirting can make you entirely forget of who he is and what he’s done. He’s only being nice towards you, Miss Weasley, because he knows you’re pathetic enough to give him what he wants.” Ginny clutched her wand and pointed it right at Snape. “Take that back,” she said, shaking with anger. Snape merely glanced at the wand. “I won’t, because you know it’s true. Your whole life has been turned upside down--you were left with no one to care about you. You’re lonely and vulnerable, and a few weeks with the man who is responsible for your misery was enough to make you forget who you are and what you stand for.” “But it’s also because of Draco that I’m alive!” Ginny cried, desperate to forget what Snape was forcing her to see. “He was the one who got me out of prison and living in luxury. He protected me from Flint. He was the one who kept constant guards at my cell so I wouldn’t get raped!” “And do you really believe he did that all out of the goodness of his heart?” Snape said. “That he’s a changed person and is to be trusted?” “I never said I trusted him,” Ginny said. “Things just aren’t as black and white as you’re making them out to be.” Snape was silent long enough that Ginny held onto her wand in anticipation. But his next words almost made her drop her wand. “Let me check your memory to see if it’s blocked.” Ginny fumbled with her wand. She had known, since the night before, that Snape had the ability to do so, but she had already decided against it. “Why? Draco already talked to Crabbe--he said nothing happened to me. And I heard you two talking last night--Draco said he didn’t want you to check.” “Yes, I saw you at the door. That’s why I offered my service, because I knew that you would never learn from Draco that I could help you with your problem.” Ginny slowly shook her head. “But what help could it do?” she asked. “I mean, say you did find something blocked, that doesn’t mean you can unblock it. It would just drive me mad knowing that something horrible happened to me, and I have no idea what.” “But if it would prove to you just who Draco really is-” “But it has nothing to do with Draco,” Ginny said. “And I think he’d agree with me on why you shouldn’t check.” “Has it ever occurred to you, Miss Weasley, that the only reason why Draco doesn’t want you to be checked for a memory block is because he was the one that put it there in the first place?” Time seemed to slow down at Snape’s words. Ginny tried to tell him that he was being ridiculous, and that there was no way that it was true, but at Snape’s certain face and her inability to speak, she knew he had hit a button. Snape was pointing out the uncertainty that she still felt around Draco, and of the secrets that she knew he kept. She had known that Draco has wanted her for quite some time, enough to keep a picture of her in his study, and to want her as a prize. And then she couldn’t help but think of every time when they had been together, and how he always just seemed to know to touch her in the right place, as if he had done it before. Dread filled her stomach, but she tried to shake it off. “Draco…Draco would never have done anything to me like that,” she said. Now that it was Draco involved, she couldn’t even bring herself to outright say his name and the word rape in the same sentence. “I remember when I first got here, I accused him of trying to get me drunk so he could take advantage of me, and you should have seen how angry he got. He wouldn’t have reacted like that if he’d done something even worse to me.” “The Malfoys have always been about personal appearance,” Snape said. “You wouldn’t believe half the things Lucius did, but if he was ever called out on it, he would have reacted just the same way as Draco.” Ginny shook her head. “But that’s Lucius--he was a horrible, soulless man. Draco’s not like that. Draco wouldn’t have-” Ginny cut herself off. After learning her first year what Lucius Malfoy was capable of, and seeing his bratty son tormenting her family, she had always thought, growing up, that Draco was just a mini-Lucius. And to be raised to be like his father, to hate all Weasleys just as much as his father did, how would Draco react to wanting her? Would he have felt a family betrayal towards his father, someone he always idolized? And would that pain turn into madness as his obsession with her grew, until he was finally given a chance to have her as he pleased and be able to take out all the frustration he was feeling onto her? It wasn’t until Ginny saw Snape nodding did she realize that he was staring into her eyes, and she knew he was reading her mind. “Then you’re beginning to see it how I do,” Snape said. “When Draco first took you as a prize, everyone thought it would be to torture you--I thought so too at first, even though it didn’t explain your constant protection. But all this time, he just wanted you for himself. Imagine him as a young man being told by his father to hate people like you, but all he wanted was you. It went against everything he stood for--everything he made himself out to be. It’s enough to turn a man crazy, and make him do horrible things.” Ginny felt weak in the knees--the room seemed to be closing in on her. Just earlier that day, she had slept with a man who might have done something so horrible to her, that he blocked her own memory. Snape pulled out his wand and pointed it at her head. “Just give me permission, and I’ll go into your mind. But we must do it quickly, before Draco comes back.” Ginny opened her mouth, but nothing came out. If Draco was capable of such a thing, did she want to know? Did she truly want to know that the man she has slept with, the man she lives with, raped her? Could she live with herself knowing that such a thing had happened that involved someone that she felt herself starting to grow attached to, to someone that she worried about his safety? If Snape found a memory block, it would change everything between her and Draco. It would take away the one person she had left in the world. But then Snape’s words repeated in her head. *“You’re lonely and vulnerable, and a few weeks with the man who is responsible for your misery was enough to make you forget who you are and what you stand for.”* “Do it,” Ginny said. She stared into Snape’s face as he pointed his wand to her temple, and concentrated hard into her eyes. Seconds passed, but they seemed like hours to her. She felt nothing at all, nothing she thought she’d feel for having her memory searched, and was too sick with worry to care about Snape seeing anything personal in her life. She knew he was done when she watched Snape’s face fall, but only for a moment before he regained control. He drew back his wand, and pocketed it as he continued to stare at her. “Your memory’s blocked,” he said, “and by the biggest block I’ve ever seen. Something big happened, and Draco doesn’t want you to remember it.” Ginny reached out behind her to grab the fountain before she collapsed onto the edge. She stayed there long after Snape had left, and she had lost all feeling in her body. ~*~ Please review!! Liz21 13. Note to All --------------- Ah-I did NOT want to write a note to everyone, because IÕm sure you all thought it was a chapter update and are probably mad at meÉ Anyways, IÕm just letting everyone know that I AM continuing with the story. Things have just been horribly busy, and it kills me that I havenÕt been able to write for over a month now. But, school starts for me on Monday, so I can get back into writing in the mornings before class, which is what I prefer to do. I wonÕt promise when IÕll get the next chapter up, but I hope to get it done by the end of the month. And IÕll make it kick ass for the lack of updates over the whole summer. Thanks for being so patient, Liz21 14. ANOTHER NOTE ---------------- Another note-sorry Yes, I am still alive, and yes I plan on finishing the story. Here's the plan-I have college finals next week, and then I'm off for four weeks before my life at the newspaper starts again. (Curious if anyone else works at a newspaper, because then you know you're lucky if you even have time to shower during the day). My plan is to try and finish the whole story by January. Next semester is my last of college, and I know if I've had trouble updating this semester, I'll have even more next. My break starts Dec. 15, so expect an update soon!! Thanks so much for being patient! Liz21 --> 15. Chapter Thirteen -------------------- Holy wow. Yes, I updated. Yes, it’s been forever. So, let’s skip the reasons and excuses, and go read what you’ve all been waiting for! I hope it’s been worth the wait. (And it hasn’t been edited-I just wanted to get it to you guys.) ~*~ Chapter Thirteen Draco’s bedroom was dark while Ginny sat on his bed, waiting for him to come home. The drapes were shut to keep out the moonlight, the candles were extinguished, and Ginny herself was wearing a black lingerie set. She knew Draco would approve of it, mostly because she found it in her wardrobe, as if waiting for her to put it on and please him. She was beginning to learn just what Draco did expect of her, and what he most desired. She was surprisingly calm when she heard the front door open from downstairs, and wondered if Draco was allowed to Aparate in and out of the house if it was only on his master’s calling. That thought left her, though, when she heard Draco climb the stairs with what sounded like heavy steps, as if the meeting had tired him out, and he could barely make it to his own bed. Though Ginny knew that once Draco found what was waiting for him in his bed, sleep would be the last thing on his mind. But what she heard Draco do next slightly surprised her, and she almost lost her concentration on the whole matter. Ginny heard Draco stop in the hallway just outside the door, but instead of opening it, he opened the one across from the hall--her bedroom. But Ginny couldn’t afford to wonder if he was maybe checking on her to see if she was sleeping well, or if maybe to join her in bed. She just hoped that he would not go looking for her throughout the house when he saw that her bed was empty, because if she had to wait any longer for him, she didn’t know what she’d do next. Relief and nerves hit her at the same time when the bedroom door opened, and a little light poured in from the hallway. It was enough to show Draco’s face, and the surprise on it to find his room dark. But Ginny couldn’t ignore how his eyes looked either, and couldn’t decipher if they were tired or worried. She watched as Draco drew his wand from his pocket and held it out in front of him. “Ginny?” he called softly before his wand lit the room and a gasp escaped from his mouth at what he saw. Despite him usually keeping his cool, Draco’s mouth hung open and his eyes widened slightly while staring at Ginny, who was perched up on her knees, which were slightly spread. A green, see-through robe was hanging off her shoulders, providing little cover up. A small thrill ran through Ginny’s body at the way Draco continued to look at her. Shock was essential to what she wanted to do tonight, and she hoped his only focus would be on her body. “I’ve been waiting for you, Draco,” Ginny said. And then just to add to it, she fluttered her eyelashes and bit the bottom of her lip. That did it. Draco dropped his wand to the ground, where it bounced before the light went out. The nervousness that Ginny was suppressing began to creep up with the lack of light. She was aware that Draco was still in the room, and probably still staring even though it was pitch black, but now she couldn’t see him either or see what he was about to do. She knew what she wanted to happen next, but what of him? Just as her eyes began to adjust to the darkness, she was suddenly pushed down onto the mattress, landing on her back with a squeal. Draco was on top of her--even if she couldn’t see him, she could distinctly smell his cologne. And if that wasn’t enough proof, soon his soft lips were on hers, tugging at her bottom lip before kissing her hard. Ginny tried to catch her breath as Draco ran his hands to her shoulders where he pushed down her flimsy robe. Her inability to see heightened her other senses, and her skin tingled as Draco ran his fingertips over her bare stomach, and then down to feel the trim of her panties that she knew he so desperately wanted to take off. She was lost in the moment as his hand traveled back up to her chest, where he grasped her breast through the material of her bra. Ginny dug her hands into his hair and used it to pull Draco’s mouth back to her own. Draco hissed at her move, and when she felt him digging into her side, she knew he wanted more of it. He obliged as she shoved her lips into his own and seemed to be content with kissing her for a moment, but then Ginny felt his hands try to snake under her to take off her bra. “Wait,” she managed to spit out between kisses. Draco’s hands stilled, but he his lips continued to move from her mouth to her neck. “What is it?” he asked in a rough voice. Ginny hesitated as she felt his tongue trim her earlobe. “I-I want to be on top.” She didn’t have to ask twice. One moment his lips were on her, and the next Draco grabbed onto her waist and rolled them both over so his back was now on the bed. Ginny sat up and straddled his lap before he could get his hands on her again. “Can you light a candle? Ginny asked as she dug herself into him. “I want to see your face when you come.” She barely got out the last word when she heard Draco’s fingers snap and candles on both end tables lit up, bright enough to light up the bed. She was finally able to see the lust in Draco’s face that she felt against him, and knowing what hold she had over him, she bent down and lightly kissed his lips. “Draco?” she asked softly before she kissed him once more, and then went over to nibble on his ear. “Why am I here?” she whispered. Draco’s body lurched as she blew onto his ear, and when he went to grab at her, Ginny pushed his hand back. “You-you mean in my bed?” he asked, his voice unsteady. Ginny took a minute to reply as she rotated her hips into a circle, making Draco moan as she felt him throb against her. “You know what I mean,” she asked as she moved her hands down to his crotch, where she began to slowly undo his pants. His heavy breathing filled the room. “Why am I here in this house? Why did you take me away from the prison?” Draco’s breathing hesitated for a moment, and no words fell from his lips, but Ginny didn’t expect them to. She pushed his pants down and his erection sprung free. Ginny looked up, and making sure her eyes were connected with Draco’s, she took him into her hand. Draco let out a loud groan as his body shook at her touch. Ginny moved her hand up and down his length as she watched his face twist with pleasure. “Will you tell me, Draco?” she asked once more as she increased her pace. “If you give me what I want, I’ll give you myself in return.” Draco’s erection jumped in her hand, and she saw that he was panting. Sweat began to form on his forehead as he squeezed his eyes in concentration. “Look at me, Draco.” Draco opened his eyes as Ginny let go of him, but positioned herself over him once more. She pulled her underwear to one side, and put herself right on the tip of Draco, close enough to where she could feel him throb. “Just tell me and you’ll be in me,” she said, struggling for control. Draco’s hips jerked up, but Ginny moved away from him. “Ginny,” Draco said. “Don’t make me beg.” Ginny shook her head. “That’s not what I want. I just want the truth, Draco. Just for once, tell me what’s really going on.” Draco grabbed for her once more, but she pushed him back. “Ginny-” Ginny hovered over him. “Tell me.” She pushed down lightly on him, so he was barely in her, but enough to let him know what he would get. “It’s because,” Draco said between deep breaths, but as he paused, Ginny pushed down a bit farther. “Because,” he started again. Ginny stopped. “Just say it, Draco.” “Because I love you!” he spat out before he grabbed her hips and slammed her down onto him. Draco’s sudden words and action caused Ginny to lose control as she briefly gathered in the feeling of having him inside her. Draco continued to hold onto her hips as he directed her movements on top of him, continually bringing her up slightly before back down again. And for a moment she almost gave into the sensations running through her body, of the feeling of his hands gripping onto her, as if he couldn’t let go. But then his words finally hit her, and a feeling of anger built up in her that she hadn’t felt since the first night he brought her to Malfoy Manor, to the ultimate prison of her life. “Don’t you dare say those words to me,” Ginny hissed, and before Draco could make another move, she grabbed her wand hidden in the back of her bra, quickly stood up, and yelled, “Incarcerous!” Rope shot out from her wand and wrapped around Draco’s body, binding his arms down and his legs together. Ginny’s eyes tried to keep focus on her work, but saw that Draco’s face was quickly turning from shock, to confusion, to anger. Her face was set, though, as she finished her work with tying the last rope around his mouth, permitting him from speaking. Ginny’s body shook as she tried to speak “How dare you say those words to me,” she said in a low hiss. “How dare you say something like that as if it actually means something, as if we actually mean something.” Draco tried to open his mouth, but the rope held it shut, but it didn’t permit the muffled sound of his voice. Ginny turned her wand to his face. An anger she hadn’t felt in a long time built up in her. It was on a different level then she had of Voldemort who killed all those she loved, and of the Death Eaters that had tortured those that were still alive. It was beyond years of hatred of the name of Malfoy itself. It was that someone so evil, so despicable as the man lying in front of her, could even try to reach her in a place that only loved ones have been before. To have words like that come out of Draco’s mouth made everything right in the world seem wrong. For Draco to think that he had the right to say that to her made her want to hurt him as much as he hurt her. With the flick of her wrist, the ropes tightened around Draco, making his eyes bulge slightly at the pain. But Ginny didn’t even blink in his response. She had never considered herself the best person, but she knew what she was feeling right now was nowhere close to who she was. For a moment, she almost felt like she was in Draco’s place, the one with the power, and Draco was her, the one who was tied up and under control. But still, Draco fought the ropes, and tried to speak. “I said be quiet!” Ginny yelled, sparks firing out of her wand into Draco’s face. Her shoulders heaved, and to her anger, tears started to come to her eyes. “There’s absolutely nothing you can say now to get you out of this. There are no words, no matter how sly, no matter how sneaky you think you are. I know all about your secret!” Those words caused Draco to become still. She knew she finally had his attention when the anger left his face and it was filled with a tiny remorse of fear, but it was nowhere near to the amount she still felt. But despite how she felt, she couldn’t stop the words from coming out of her mouth. “It’s not love you feel,” Ginny said. “It’s no where near that. I know about you’re obsession with me. I saw the picture of me on your desk-the one from Hogwarts. How long has it been, Draco?” And as she spoke, she released the ropes from around his mouth, permitting him to speak. But he didn’t. Draco didn’t defend himself, come up with excuses, or even move. But just because he wouldn’t cooperate, didn’t mean she was giving up. With her eyes on him, Ginny took a few steps back until her legs hit the chair, and she reached under the cushion. When her hand reappeared with a bottle in it, this time she was certain she saw fear in Draco’s face. Draco finally opened his mouth. “Where did you-” “Get this bottle of Versatiem?” Ginny interrupted. “From the only person I fear I have left to trust in this world.” Ginny stepped back up to the bed and unscrewed the cap, and with Draco immobile, poured a few drops into his mouth. Ginny had seen a person on Versaitem before. A change comes over them when they lose all control of what to say, but Draco’s face seemed alert. His eyes were slightly dazed, but he still had the Draco scowl of if he knew exactly what was about to happen, whether he wanted it to or not. “How long has it been, Draco?” Ginny asked. “For how long have you wanted me?” Ginny watched as Draco tried to fight the affects of the potion as his face tensed, and his voice hesitated, but still an answer came out. “Since we were at Hogwarts,” Draco said. A chill came over her body, though she didn’t know why. She had figured out as much, or at least assumed, but to hear it from his lips made it that much more real. “And is that my reason for being here? Did you bring me here not out of hate, but out of your obession?” Once again Draco hesitated, but then whispered, “Yes.” Ginny’s heart began to race. “How long did you plan on me being here as a prisoner?” This time, Draco looked directly into her eyes. “Since the night your family was murdered.” Ginny’s wand shook with anger as she listened to him state so simply how is plans aligned with her family’s death. For a moment, she truly wanted to make him suffer She wanted to use the curses that she knew he had used on others. She wanted to show him an ounce of what her family had gone through before they were murdered. But she was running out of time, and she wasn’t done yet. “And what of Harry?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly “I know how much you hated him, everyone did. But maybe you hated him even more because he had me, and you couldn’t. And … and if you say that you planned to have me here when my family died, and the few people I had left that would stop you from taking me was Harry…” Ginny took a deep breath. “Were you responsible for Harry’s death?” “Only through his death could you be mine forever,” Draco said, almost in a whisper. A sob escaped Ginny’s mouth, but she refused to cry in front of him. She had done enough of that. “You bastard,” Ginny hissed. Everything that she thought at one point, that she tried to reason with, was all hitting her at once, and it was beyond a slap in the face. It felt like she was being kicked while she was already on the ground in pain, and that she was wishing for death because she knew it would never get better. But all the realizations he was making clear only left more question, the one that led her to question if any of this was possible. “Did you-” Ginny hesitated over the word that she feared, over knowing that what happened to Luna could have happened to her. That all this time, she could have been sharing her bed with a rapist, and yet she couldn’t get the word out herself. But she had to know-she had to know why her memory was blocked. “Did you block my memory before I came here? Did you block my memory after … having sex with me?” She hated herself for not having the courage to say the word rape, because to say it would make it that much more real, and as she watched Draco try to struggle against speaking, she was hoping it wasn’t true because she didn’t know if she could handle anything else. “Yes.” Ginny was thankful there was a chair behind her, because when her knees buckled, she sank right into it. Her wand loosed from her hand as she stared at Draco with wide eyes and an open mouth. But should she have been surprised that a man capable of murdering her loved ones would rape her as well? Wasn’t it just another step to claiming her as his? But to think that she had voluntarily slept with the man that took her innocence made it worse. She only came to when she saw Draco start to struggle with his bonds. The potion was beginning to wear off, though Draco still looked at her with a dazed look and seemed unaware that he was under his own control again. Forcing herself to worry about things later, Ginny quickly grabbed the dress and robe she had draped on the back of the chair, pulled it on and ran for the door with the wand in her hand. She was halfway out the door when she stopped and looked back at Draco still lying there. “How does it feel to know that after all you went through to make sure I was yours, that you’ll never really have me?” Draco stared at her. “It’s a pain that I hope you will never feel.” Ginny hesitated, because for a moment he acted like the Draco he wanted her to see, but she knew it wasn’t really him. Without another look, she left his room and ran down the hall to his study. She blasted the door open with her wand and told herself to catch her breath when she was inside the room. She knew her ropes would hold Draco-she was taught before the war on techniques of how to hold some for hours to even days if permitted. And all she needed was some time to write Snape an owl to meet her outside Malfoy Manor. From there she didn’t know where she would go or hide in a world full of Death Eaters-all she knew was so far Snape had been right, and she had to get as far away as Draco as possible, even if it meant risking death. Because if Draco was twisted enough to rape her, and to kill her loved ones so he could have her, what’s to stop him for killing her when he finally realizes he can’t have her? Ginny walked by the desk towards the fireplace, but then stopped. Staring at her was the picture frame of her from Hogwarts. Ginny couldn’t help but pick up the frame and watch her younger self smile so brightly; it disgusted her to know that Draco thought that smile was towards him. But she wanted to be out of his life completely. Ginny tore open the frame and ripped out the photo, and was about to slip the photo into her pocket when she stopped. She turned over the photo, and written on the back was “Promise me you’ll always be mine.” Ginny stared at the message with confusion. She remembered the photo was taken for Harry, but didn’t recall writing that message. And what was more confusing was it wasn’t in her handwriting, but the script looked familiar, as so did the message. Where did she hear that before? Ginny tried to tell herself to let it go and to write to Snape, but deep down she felt something stirring in her, and she knew something was missing. That after all Draco had told her, she still felt like the was more to the puzzle. Or maybe Snape was right-maybe she had grown attached to the only person left in her life, and now she was making up reasons to stick around longer because she couldn’t bear to be on her own again. Maybe after being stuck in Malfoy Manor, she was becoming as crazy as Draco was. But she refused to give in to her thoughts, crazy or not. Ginny dropped the photo on the desk and busied her hands with opening up drawers in search of ink and parchment. The two was locked, but the third drawer, a deeper one, opened where she found a pad of parchment. Taking the whole thing, she was about to close the drawer in search for ink when her eyes fell on what was hidden beneath the parchment. It was the box she found in the garden of Narcissa’s secret love notes. She had almost forgotten that she searched for the box earlier and was unable to find it buried beneath the daisies. Placing the parchment on the desk, Ginny lifted the box out of the drawer-it still smelled of soil. She didn’t know why she was so interested in the box at a time like this. She should have been worrying about her own escape, but all she could think about was the portrait of Narcissa at the other end of the secret tunnel, waiting day after day for her son to talk to her though he never will. And that once this woman, who died for her son, felt so great a love that she had to keep it a secret. Ginny looked at a bare wall next to Draco’s desk where she knew the secret tunnel was. She could so easily run down there and ask Narcissa all about what Ginny had wanted to know since she found the box. And if it wasn’t for her own curiosity, maybe it was because despite how cruel the woman had been to her and her family, Ginny felt like she was holding Narcissa’s heart in her hands, and Ginny couldn’t just leave it hidden away forever. She almost went for the trap door when she stopped herself once more. She might be able to help Narcissi a little, but that would by no mean help Ginny out in the situation. She thought of Snape once more, and if things would go according to plan, Draco would never know that Snape was involved in Ginny’s escape. And if Snape was innocent, then she could have him go to see Narcissa himself. Dropping the box on the desk, Ginny opened the lid and took a handful of the letters and put them into her pocket, spilling several on the desk. If Snape would show these to Narcissa, then maybe it would ease her pain only a little to remember of a love she once had. And that was all Ginny knew she could do for the woman. Knowing she had to cover her steps, Ginny picked up the other letters to stow away in the box, when what she saw made her stomach squirm for reasons unknown. One of the secret letters laid open next to the photo of herself on the desk. And on both of them were the identical handwriting. Only this time the letter said, “Meet me at midnight in the classroom with the clearest view of the lake. This time I’ll send an owl along to let you know I’m near.” And before she could take another breath, thoughts came rushing into her head of a dream she had only just that morning. Of her being in Hogwarts, with the clock chiming midnight and a owl hooting. Of her waiting for someone, and then suddenly Draco was there in his Slytherin outfit, asking her to promise him she would always be his. “You weren’t supposed to find out this way.” Ginny screamed at Draco standing at the door. Before she could move he pulled out his wand and yelled “WAND HERE”, causing hers to fly out of her hand and into his own, which he put in the robe he threw on. “How did you get out of those ropes?” Ginny asked, nearly yelled. “No one knows that spell except for-” “The person who taught you it right before the war?” Draco interrupted. He walked into the study with his wand still out. “Tell me, Ginny, do you remember who that was?” Ginny took several steps back as Draco approached with his wand. “Of course I do. It was …” But suddenly she couldn’t remember who it was that taught her the spell. Not that she could concentrate much on anything with Draco there, her wandless and out of control. How could she think of such a petty detail when her plan was falling to ruins and she was doomed? Now Draco was close enough for Ginny to see the anger in his face. His face was a shade of red Ginny had never seen on him, but it was his gray eyes, dark as clouds, that terrified her the most. They were the kind of eyes that she knew would lose all control any moment, and that she would soon feel pain. “And tell me, Ginny,” Draco continued, so close now that Ginny was backed into the wall. “Tell me where you were on the night of your family’s death.” Beyond the fear she was feeling, there was still the confusion and frustration. “What does that have to do with anything?” Draco smirked at her in such a way that he seemed crazed. “Oh, believe me, it has everything to do with it.” Ginny glanced down at his wand. “You were there with me when I visited that memory,” Ginny said. “I got a letter right before dinner time to go to Diagon Alley. It was from Luna.” “Except you’re forgetting that Luna was captured several weeks before that.” “I-” Ginny stopped. “That’s not possible. I told my parents I was going to see her. If she was captured, then they would have known.” Draco leaned forward, his face inches away from hers. “You’d be surprised what your parents did and didn’t know.” Ginny glared at him. “And why would I believe a rapist and a murderer like you?” Draco grew still and his face tensed. “I won’t deny being a murderer, but I have never raped anyone.” “Liar!” Ginny screamed. “You raped me! You raped me when I was in prison, and then blocked my memory. And now that memory spell is making me forget other things.” Draco stared at her for a moment, and moved so suddenly to his desk that Ginny jumped. She watched as he tapped his wand on the first drawer that was locked, and then pull out a flask with silver liquid in it. Ginny remained quiet until she read the label, which said, ‘G.W. Memories.’ Draco looked up at her. “Would you like your memory back?” he said as he handed her the bottle. Ginny could only stare at it with her mouth open. She had been right all along. “I-but you can’t unblock memories.” Draco retracted his arm and walked over to the pensieve. “Not in the way that Snape knows of memory charms, which I assume is whom you have been talking to. But in this bottle isn’t your exact memory of what happened-it’s mine.” Ginny felt she was frozen to the wall, but her eyes wouldn’t leave the bottle that Draco held. Did she really want to see what was so horrible that Draco hid from her? But then she remembered telling Snape that she’d go crazy if she could never know what exactly happened. But at the same time, what if seeing it drove her to insanity? “There are side effects, of course,” Draco said, “of being shown a part of your life that was erased. Shock is an obvious one, but it may drive you mad.” He held out the bottle once more. “Is that worth the risk to you?” She was dimly aware that her feet started to walk toward Draco and the bottle, though she remained silent. Was she better off not knowing and keeping what little sanity she had left? Though, she could only imagine what Draco would do to her after this episode-maybe she was better off being crazed and not even realizing she was stuck in Malfoy Manor for the rest of her life with a man who raped her. She reached for the bottle, which Draco almost seemed reluctant to let go. “I want to do this alone, though,” she said. There was no way she was going to watch herself get tortured with the man who did it. Draco hesitated, but then nodded and let go of the bottle. “I’ll be here waiting, though.” Ginny didn’t want to think of that, so instead she busied herself in pouring the bottle into the pensive, and without taking a look at Draco, touched the liquid and submerged herself into Draco’s memory. Ginny expected the memory to lead her to her prison cell, but was surprised when she found herself in a bedroom. The room was not one she knew, though she could hear the rustling of a city outside the window, which was right where Draco was standing. Ginny hesitated, knowing he couldn’t see her, before she walked up to him. She watched his face as he anxiously looked outside the window. He looked almost exactly like the Draco she had just seen in his study; his hair hung free from gel, he was broader, and his face was still tense and years beyond his age. She glanced down at his hand where he was playing with his wand, though it seemed more out of a nervous habit because he paid no attention to it. But at a knock at the door, he quickly slipped it into his pocket before he said, “Come in.” Ginny watched as a woman slipped in with a shawl over her face, as if in disguise. She closed the door behind her, locked it, and didn’t turn back around until she took her shawl off, exposing a wave of red hair. Ginny’s stomach dropped as she watched herself in front of her. The Ginny in front of her did not act surprised that she had just entered a room with Draco Malfoy in it, a Death Eater. Instead, she took off her robe while looking at him calmly. “Why tonight? I could barely get away.” Ginny felt herself back up and sink down in a chair behind her. She knew that Draco had blocked a memory-he even admitted it himself. But she pictured that he did something horrible to her in prison, when she was captured and was defenseless. So for Ginny to see herself in a room with Draco, willingly, made no sense to her, and only omitted a sharp pain in her head when she tried to figure it out, but nothing came to her. Draco took a step away from the window, and towards her. Ginny froze when Draco’s reached towards her and brushed her cheek. “Because I needed to see you.” Ginny watched in great confusion as her other self sat down on the bed with a sigh. “Believe me, I needed to see you as well. But, it’s just that Percy came over, and it was all because of me that he’s at the Burrow right now.” Ginny felt her stomach drop, and was glad she was sitting or she surely would have fainted. It was the night that her family was murdered. The night that she had no memory of where she was when it took place, only before and after. Draco sat down next to her and when he grabbed her hand, the other Ginny stopped talking and leaned forward into him. “This is just harder than I thought it would be,” she said into Draco’s chest. “I just want it all to be over.” Ginny watched Draco’s face as he stroked her hand-it was still as tense as it was when he was waiting, and the other Ginny must have noticed something was wrong because she soon sat up and gave him a puzzled look, but before she could say anything Draco leaned in and kissed her. Ginny watched as Draco and herself fell into the bed, locked at the lips. And when they started to frantically take off each other’s clothes, it was almost too much for her to watch. She knew that she had kissed Draco before, and even taken off his clothes, but that was in the present time, in his manor when she was a prisoner. But this, she couldn’t accept this. She wanted to look away when they were both naked-it was odd seeing herself in the nude from this perspective, and she felt almost dirty, like she was watching two lovers in secret. But this was herself on the bed, and there was no way she was lovers with Draco. Though through her thick layer of denial, she could see at how Draco was looking at the Ginny on the bed, with the same tenderness in his eyes that he had when Ginny remembered having sex with him. And his touches were gentle, and exact, as if he’s done it a million times before, just like he did when Ginny first had sex with him after the ball. But Ginny quickly stopped herself there. She thought that was her first time having sex with anyone, especially him, and she remembered how she felt no pain despite she was a virgin. And before her eyes, she watched as Draco positioned himself over the other Ginny before swiftly entering her, them both crying out in pleasure. Ginny turned her head away. She couldn’t watch anymore of it. Whatever it was in front of her, she didn’t want to see it. She had no idea what was going on-she thought that Draco had raped her, taken her against her will, but what Draco was showing her was exact opposite. Here was something that made all of her accusations false. And it was beyond not knowing what was happening-she felt she didn’t even know herself. Ginny didn’t look back over until quite some time, after she heard them both cry out in climax, and after she heard them rustle for their clothes. She knew she could have left the memory at any time, but she still need answers. She needed something to understand it all. The other Ginny and Draco were standing next to the bed, fully clothed, and were giving each other a light kiss, before Ginny started crying. “When will I see you again?” she asked, trying to wipe away her tears as if embarrassed. Draco stopped her and wiped them himself. “I think I have a plan,” he said. “But you have to trust me.” Ginny stopped and stared at him. “Of course I-” She paused when Draco pulled out his wand and pointed it at her. “Draco, what are you doing?” Ginny stood up from the chair and watched the two. Ginny’s face turned to uncertainty, and Draco, those his face was steady, his hand trembled. “This is the only way,” Draco said. “This is the only way you’ll be mine forever. He’s going to win, Ginny. The Dark Lord is going to win, and there’s only one way he’ll let me have you.” Ginny held out her hand. “Draco-” Draco hesitated. “I love you, Ginny,” he said, and before Ginny could say another word, he yelled, “Obliviate!” Ginny watched as a bright light flew out of Draco’s wand, hitting her other self right in the chest. Ginny watched her fall, almost as if it was in slow motion, onto the bed where she was still. Ginny watched in a numbing shock as she watched Draco bend down, kiss the other Ginny on the lips, and straighten back up. “If things go according to plan, you will be back in my arms one day,” he said. “Please know that I did this only because I love you.” And with that, Ginny watched as he left the room thus ending the memory and the case to why Ginny was in Draco’s manor in the first place. ~*~ There! How’s that for a climax? First, this is not the last chapter. There are still several more to come, and hopefully soon. Two, many of you predicted this-good job! But, everything is still not explained. Three, this very important scene was a bit earlier in the story than I was planning, but I thought it was due time that you all knew. Thank you so much for your patience. I’m trying to get this out as soon as I can since I’m graduating in two months, and I can only imagine the real world is going to be even crazier. Liz21 16. Chapter Fourteen -------------------- This chapter is unedited and a few pages shorter than usual, but I figured IÕd get out what I can now. IÕm graduation in less than two weeks and have tons of projects to do (and try to find that thing called a job) so sorry if itÕs a bit messy. Have fun! OK, for some reason when I upload this, weird characters replace apostrophes and such. Sorry for the inconvenience-I have no idea why its doing it, but its still readable. So please just ignore it and bask in DracoÕs awesomeness. ~*~ Chapter Fourteen The moment the memory ended, Ginny felt herself being pulled out the memory, and before she could even blink, she was standing in DracoÕs study. And just like Draco promised, he was standing there, waiting for her. She was looking at him without really seeing him. His face was tense in wait for her reaction. She remembered how he said she wasnÕt supposed to find out this way of why she was in Malfoy Manor, and wondered on how he was planning on telling her that they were É lovers? She felt herself pale at the thought, at what she had just seen, and Draco must have seen it in her face because he stepped forward as she felt herself sway, but she caught herself on the piensive and snapped, ÒDonÕt you come near me.Ó Draco froze mid-step, with his hand reaching out to her. The look on his face was the same as in the memory of when he took away her memory: full of hurt and sadness, guilt and uncertainty. All feelings that she never knew he could feel. But it had to be all an act, she thought. It was all made up, every bit of it, just to torture her. He had said he wanted to make her miserable, and he was doing it by taking her sanity. Ginny shook her head at him. ÒItÕs not real,Ó she said. ÒYouÕre sick, Malfoy.Ó DracoÕs face fell as did his hand; he looked defeated. ÒGinny-Ó ÒDonÕt call me that!Ó she yelled, near hysteria. She clutched on tightly to the bowl, feeling her breath shorten. When he said her name like that, all she could think of was how he said ÒI love you, GinnyÓ in what he had shown her. Ginny shook her head, feeling herself loosing a grip on herself. ÒYou made it all up just to get to me.Ó Draco stared at her. ÒYou know as well as I do that you canÕt make up memories,Ó he said, his voice a forced calm. But Ginny kept on shaking her head. Tears started to cloud her vision. She tried to tell herself that it wasnÕt real, that Draco was lying, but the more she tried to figure a way around it, the more her head hurt and her body trembled. And the more things made sense. Like how Draco happened to know her favorite Muggle card game, and what kind of clothes she wore to bed. Or how her favorite food was always at meals, and he knew exactly where to touch her to please her. Or now that she had seen the pain in his face in the memory, she could look back and remember hints of that expression ever since she was forced to come to the manor. Her headache eased as more proof came into mind, but her body wouldnÕt stop shaking. She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didnÕt realize Draco had moved until he was inches away from her. ÒDonÕt force it away,Ó Draco said. ÒPeople have gone mad from denial.Ó For a moment, Ginny welcomed insanity over the truth of her being with Draco before she was a prisoner, but when she looked into his eyes and saw the sadness he felt at that moment, at knowing what he had shown her and seeing her react to it, all she could do was cry. Ginny let out a loud sob as she let go of the bowl and sank to her knees. Draco caught her, but led her to the floor where he knelt next to her and watched her cry. Unable to look at him, Ginny rested her head on her knees and wept at knowing that somehow she had been with him during the war, when her family was still alive, and she betrayed them all. That the night her family died, she had left them to have a secret affair with their enemy. And that doing so had probably killed them. She didnÕt know how long she cried for, but when she looked up, Draco was still there, kneeling next to her, with an anxious face. What was she to say to a man who she couldnÕt remember loving her? ÒWhen?Ó Ginny asked, her voice shaking. ÒWhen did it start?Ó Draco ran a hand through his hair and let out a breath. ÒFor you, the beginning of your sixth year,Ó he said. ÒYou had been out flying one night, and I was there, watching you. IÕve been doing it since the end of my fifth year-I didnÕt really understand why. I just couldnÕt get you out of my head. I thought it was out of hate, so I was teasing you while flying, and you overshot yourself and fell off your broomstick. And when I saved youÉI donÔt really know. Just after that one night, something happened between us.Ó As Draco talked, Ginny recalled a dream she had in the library when she first arrived at the manor, of her flying at the quidditch field at Hogwarts, and of someone flying around her. And then she was falling and screamingÉ Ginny shook her head at home. ÒBut I dreamt that-Ó ÒPieces of memories were bound to come back,Ó he said, Òespecially since you were around me.Ó When she didnÕt respond, Draco continued. ÒFor the rest of the school year we snuck around school, meeting each other.Ó He nodded his head to his desk, where the box of secrets were. ÒWe wrote notes saying where to meet, and disguised the handwriting in case they were found.Ó GinnyÕs mouth dropped open at the sight of the box. ÒBut those are NarcissaÕs,Ó she said. ÒI found them buried underneath-Ó ÒThe daisies,Ó Draco said. ÒYour favorite flower.Ó Ginny looked at him, startled. ÒHow did you-Ó When Draco gave her a small smile, it almost startled her. Never had she seen, or remembered, him so happy, as if all the weight was lifted off his shoulders. ÒBecause I always snuck you them just to piss Potter off.Ó As soon as Draco said HarryÕs name, she knew he immediately regretted it. His smile dropped and he reached for her hands, but she pulled them away. ÒHarry,Ó she said. ÒI couldnÕt have done that to Harry.Ó She shook her head again, feeling the tears build up again. ÒNo, thereÕs no way I could betray him like that-he hated you.Ó This time, Draco was shaking his head. ÒYou told me yourself you never loved him,Ó he said. ÒAnd knowing that truth was the only reason why you could ever be with me. For weeks I sought you out but you resisted. You kept on going back to Harry, you were always making sure you were near him when I was around, as if to make a point that you and I would never happen in a million years. Except you and I both knew that you couldnÕt lie to yourself forever.Ó ÒI know I never loved him like that,Ó Ginny said, almost yelling and crying at the same time. ÒBut that doesnÕt mean that I would just go to the person he hated most. I still loved him as a brother, and the last thing I would want to do was hurt him.Ó ÒExcept you were hurting yourself by staying with him,Ó Draco said. His tone was past the calmness and the need to make her understand. It had the tone of agitation, like they had this talk a thousand times. For all Ginny knew, they probably did. ÒAnd you were never okay with being with me. You hated the secrets, but you hated the truth. You loved your family, but you loved me, too.Ó Ginny froze at his words. ÒI-I what?Ó Her quiet voice seemed to calm Draco. He paused and took a breath. ÒYou loved me, Ginny,Ó he whispered. ÒOnly love could have gotten us to the point where we are today. CanÕt you see that after everything, after I took your memories, that you still came back to me?Ó Ginny started to cry at the tenderness of his voice, and didnÕt pull her hands away when he grabbed them. Somehow, she knew he was hurting more than she was. ÒThen why did you do it?Ó she said. ÒIf, like you said, we had been taking risks for years, why would you curse me and take it all away just for me to come back?Ó Ginny knew this was the part where Draco did not want to go into detail. He let go of her hands and stood up and walked over to his desk. He grabbed the picture of her, which Ginny just somehow knew was meant to be a gift to him. Ginny too stood as he stared at the frame, but she stayed still. ÒIt was out of desperation,Ó he said, not looking at her. ÒFor months we were stretching it thin-we were almost caught several times, and the worse the war got, the riskier it was for the two of us.Ó Draco looked up at her. ÒIt was because of us my mother died.Ó GinnyÕs eyes widened, but she didnÕt understand. ÒBut she told me that you werenÕt on duty, and she covered for you. ThatÕs why-Ó ÒI was sent to spy on you,Ó Draco said, setting down the frame. ÒI was ordered to track you down, get information, and then kill you.Ó GinnyÕs whole body froze as she had the faintest memory of walking quickly in a busy city, repeatedly looking over her shoulder at someone with their hood up who kept on following herÉ ÒYou were in London,Ó he said. ÒI tracked you down in case anyone was watching, and then cornered you in an alley where it was private so you knew it was me. But when I didnÕt report back, the Dark Lord grew furious. To capture and kill PotterÕs girlfriend was our top plan at the moment, and anyone who failed to do so was killed.Ó Draco paused. ÒThe Dark Lord asked me to do it only because he knew how much I hated the Weasleys, and that I was guaranteed to succeed.Ó If what Draco was saying was true, and if he did love her, she couldnÕt imagine what was going on through his mind when he was ordered to kill her, and then risk his own life knowing what would happen if he didnÕt follow through. ÒBut your mother-Ó ÒShe didnÕt know about us,Ó he said. He looked back at the frame. ÒShe had only thought that I failed, and told the Dark Lord that she took over the operation.Ó Draco thumbed the edge of the frame. ÒShe died to save me.Ó Tears strolled down GinnyÕs face as she watched him. What Narcissa said was true-Draco felt guilt over his motherÕs death, and blamed it on himself. That was why he never saw her portrait. ÒDespite all the death the war brought, I didnÕt really realize what situation we were in until she died,Ó he said. ÒTo think that could have been you made me realize I had to do something to ensure your safety, even after the war was over.Ó Draco stepped away from his desk and walked back to her, but ignored her tears. ÒThe Dark Lord didnÕt try again to go after you after he killed Mother. At this point we were winning, but couldnÕt afford to risk losing anyone else. Time passed and there was silence-there were petty deaths and fights, and for awhile I was na•ve and thought you would be safe. But then I heard the plan for your familyÕs death.Ó Ginny had been waiting for this moment in truth, but still her body shook and anger overcame her once more. ÒIf you loved me like you say you do, why didnÕt you save my whole family, and not just me?Ó Ginny asked. ÒWhy didnÕt you warn me of what was to happen so I had time to at least hide them and-Ó ÒDonÕt you think I thought of that?Ó Draco said, his cheeks pink. ÒDonÕt you think that I knew how much it would kill you to lose them? Or that knowing one day the truth of this would come out, and that I would risk you hating me forever, knowing that I sent your family to their death as I slept with you?Ó Ginny was at a loss for words. ÒThen why did youÉÓ ÒBecause I would rather have you despise me for the rest of your life than losing you forever,Ó he said. ÒI only found out about the plan moments before it happened-just enough time to get you away from the house. If I didnÕt, Ginny, you would have died, and I would have been as good as dead.Ó Ginny stared at him. First he tells her he loves her, then says they were lovers before the war, and now he saved her life how many times? But it still didnÕt make sense. ÒWhy didnÕt you just write in the letter to get my family to safety? I had enough time to argue with my parents about going to Diagon Alley and made it out safely. There would have been time to explain and-Ó Draco simply shook his head. ÒAnd say what? How would you have explained to them how you knew something was going to happen? What if there was confusion, and they wanted to know facts, or what if you let it slip that you heard from me? That would have been more questions, and more precious time.Ó Ginny wanted to argue with him, but the creeping realization hit her. Even if Draco did warn her, how could she have explained to her whole family that they were to be attacked when she had no proof or evidence. It was not to say her family wouldnÕt believe her, but would ask too many questions, or try to convince her that she was just worried, and they were perfectly safe where they were. There would be her mother worrying she had a fever or was sick from worry, and her father reminding her of all the charms that was put on the house. And then Fred and George would tease her to try to take her mind off of it, and Percy would start saying the house was protected by the ministry, and it never failed. And Bill and Charlie would be trying to continue with dinner as if nothing happened, and Ron É ÒRon would have believed me,Ó she said faintly, staring off into the distance. ÒHe always did take me more seriously than everyone else.Ó When Ginny felt something touch her cheek, she jumped. She was so lost in thought, she didnÕt see Draco move up close enough to her to put his palm on the side of her cheek. She looked up into his eyes and knew that everything she was thinking, the what ifs and possibilities, had all gone through his head at one point-maybe hundreds of times. His eyes looked haunted, as if he lay awake at night, wondering what he could have done different to save her. That no matter what she said, things were already done, and there was no changing the past. Draco thumbed away fresh tears off her face. ÒI knew the only way I could save you is if you forgot everything,Ó he said quietly. ÒNo matter what I could have done, your family met their fate. There were no more chances for them, but there was for you. I took every memory you had of our relationship, because you having only hate for me was a greater chance of the Dark Lord believing that I would want you as a prize to torture. IÕve been trained to keep my memories away from him, but if he looked into yours and saw us together, we both would have been killed.Ó Ginny wanted to say she felt faint at the overload of information, but when Draco held her close like that, and confessed to her what he sacrificed for love, she knew deep down that was it. But before this all, when she was in his room and plotting against him, she knew him in an entirely different way. How did she knew that what he was saying was true? Draco must have noticed the doubt in her eyes, because he stepped away from her and towards the desk. ÒIf you want more proof, I have it,Ó he said as he tapped his wand against the other locked drawer. He pulled out a large box, and when he opened it, Ginny almost gasped. In there were hundreds of tiny bottles with her initials on them. He looked up at her. ÒHereÕs all of my memories of you. I started saving them once you were brought her as a prisoner, waiting for the day that you were ready to find everything out.Ó Ginny shook her head as she stared at the bottles. It looked like years worth of memories. She wanted to tell him that there would have been no right time to prepare her for something like this, but the more she thought about what he was telling and showing her, pieces of the puzzle started to fit. Of the many times he was patient to her, or did good deeds like give her a picture of her family, he was waiting for her to fall back in love with him. Maybe he was never going to show her the memories; maybe he was just waiting to form new ones with her. And how would she react if she watched all his memories É her memories? Would her mind snap at the overhaul of information that still seemed so impossible? Would she start remembering things on her own accord? She was already having dreams of what Draco says actually happened. What if she just let things take its course, and have the truth display itself? But then she looked at Draco, and tried to figure out how she was now supposed to live with a man who loved her, and whom she had no remembrance of loving back. Before Ginny could decide anything, Draco closed the box and put it back in the drawers. ÒYouÕve had enough for one day,Ó he said. ÒI think we both need some sleep.Ó Ginny wanted to argue, but a sudden mental exhaustion came over her that she had been pushing away. She simply nodded and followed him out of the room. She continued to walk down the hall towards her room, not wanting to stall with Draco, and not until she shut her bedroom door and take off her dress did she remember that Draco still had her wand. She crawled into bed, not caring that she was still wearing the underwear she used to seduce Draco with. The moment her head hit the pillows, she fell asleep. ~*~ Ginny knew she was dreaming once she appeared in HogwartÕs halls, but the dim awareness quickly faded the more she walked down the long hall. It was night out, and according the chime of a clock it was past curfew, but still she walked. She had to go somewhere quickly-she was already a few minutes late. After checking to make sure no one was following, Ginny slipped into a classroom and shut the door behind her. The room was all but empty except for one person leaning against the teacherÕs desk. Ginny broke into a smile to see Draco looking like he had all the time in the world. For a minute they simply stared at each other. She took in his blonde hair-he left it ungelled today at her request, and it hung in front of his eyes. His Slytherin tie was loosened around his neck, and his sleeves were rolled up. And he stared at her with such lust in his eyes, she almost melted. ÒYouÕre late,Ó he said as she walked over to him. Ginny nodded as she shrugged off her school robe-it was stuffy in the room. ÒRon, Hermione, and Harry were hanging out by the fireplace,Ó she said. ÒI had to wait until they went to bed.Ó She saw DracoÕs face tighten at her friendsÕ names like he always did, but he bit his tongue off from any insults. ÒDidnÕt Potter notice you?Ó Ginny let out a small smile. ÒYou know he never does when heÕs with those two. Draco gave her a smirk. ÒI always knew he was an idiot,Ó he said before he grabbed her and kissed her hard. Ginny gave a small moan of surprise at his sudden move, than quickly melted into the kiss. Her arms immediately wrapped around his neck and held on tight, pushing her self as close as possible to him. She wanted to smell him, to touch him. She wanted him inside of her, and for it to never end. Draco must have felt the same urgency that she felt, because he quickly picked her up and set her on the edge of the desk behind him, the whole time kissing her so fast she was unable to breathe, but she loved it that way. When Draco started to undo his pants, Ginny let go of his neck and sank her hands into his hair and pulled it. Draco let out a loud groan and quickened his pace and undoing his pants. Once the buckle was undo, he freed a hand and pushed it under her skirt to not doubt take off her underwear, only that she wasnÕt wearing any. DracoÕs eyes widened at the feeling of her already wet for him, and as his other hand freed him of his boxers, he delved his fingers into her, making Ginny arch her back into him. She held on tight to his shoulders, and then his tie, as she rode an orgasm as he played with her. She was just coming down from it when he took his hand out of her only to thrust himself in deeply. The both groaned at the contact, but there was no pausing. Draco frantically pushed in and out of her, so hard that Ginny had to wrap her legs around him to keep from falling over. Her hands pushed herself off the desk as she came again from Draco, her own climax pushing Draco to his own, both of them ending in moans and sweat. Unable to hold her shaky body up any longer, Ginny leaned onto Draco as he picked her up and laid her down on the floor which he covered with his school robe. His own limbs were shaking as he lay next to her, but he still held her close to him as they both caught their breath. ÒDraco?Ó Ginny said as her breathing slowed down. ÒHmm?Ó he said, with his eyes closed. She knew he would want to sleep, but there was no more time to waste. ÒI É I think IÕm falling in love with you.Ó DracoÕs eyes bolted open and his head turned towards her. When his shocked face showed no other reply, Ginny felt the need to explain. ÒIt wasnÕt on purpose,Ó she said quickly. ÒA Weasley loving a Malfoy is not supposed to happen-ever. But all I know is for the past nine months of us doing this, I still canÕt get enough of you. I mean, IÕve been lying to everyone I love, risking everything, but all I know is the thing I dread most is when I have to leave you every night.Ó At this point she was crying. She was terrified at the look on his face, and regretted saying anything. She had talked herself out of saying so many things for the past few months, worried that if it was more than sex, she would lose him forever. But she couldnÕt hold it in anymore. When he still didnÕt reply, she was about to sit up and leave, knowing he no longer wanted her, when he suddenly kissed her. It was short, but when he pulled back and looked into her eyes, she had never seen him happier. ÒWeÕll make it work,Ó Draco said. ÒI promise you, Ginny, that I will never stop loving you.Ó Tears rolled down her face as she smiled and brought him in for another kiss, and this time when he took her on the floor, it was slow and sweet. When Ginny woke up in her bed, she was more surprised at the tears that were on her face then of the dream-no, the memory-she just had. Was that how it really was? After feeling that aching love, was that how Ginny had really felt about Draco? That knowing she couldnÕt go another minute without him, and that he loved her enough to literally do anything for her? She knew no matter how long she sat in her bed thinking, she would never fully know the answers. Instead, she got out of her bed, and walked out of her room without bothering to grab a robe. She didnÕt knock on DracoÕs door, and when she opened it, she saw that he was asleep. Before she could talk herself out of it, she shut the door behind her and climbed into bed next to Draco. She had just settled in when she looked over at him and realized that his eyes were open and he was awake. There was only silence as Draco put his arm over her and pulled her body into the curve of his, and neither said a word as they fell asleep. ~*~ This is not the end. There are still several chapters to come. Hope you enjoyed, and please review! 17. Another note... ------------------- Note number… I’ve lost count… I assure you that I AM going to finish this story. Most of you know I graduated from college in May, and I’m now a senior editor at a magazine (holy crap is right-I still don’t know how I got that job! Let it be known that where my editing sucks with my own writing, I rock at AP style!). My first issue is going to press soon, and then my brother’s wedding is right after, but I WILL find time after all the craziness passes to finish this story! Thank you to all my loyal, very VERY patient fans J Liz21 18. Chapter Fifteen, part 1 --------------------------- Hello everyone! I hope you are all doing well, and thanks for being so patient. This is only about 1/3 of a normal chapter. Bascially, I found some time this week to get something together, and I figured you as readers would rather have a little now than waiting longer for the whole chapter. Work has been crazy, my computer is now broken (IÕm at work now), so IÕm going to update piece by piece when I can. Thanks for your patience! Please remember this part is short, but there will be more to come. IÕm going to continue! Liz21 ~*~ Chapter Fifteen, part 1 When Ginny woke up in the morning, she held her breath as she opened her eyes, but was relieved to see that Draco was still asleep. In fact, he may have never noticed that she snuck into his bed the night before. Because now that it was daylight, and the nightmare of learning the truth of his love É no, his obsession É had dulled slightly, it gave Ginny time to think rationally. But if Draco had seen her there and assumed that her being there was a good response, well, then he found have to wait till she figured that out herself. Because even though it seemed like a great idea the night before to share a bed with the man that she was apparently in love with at one point, there was still that part of Ginny that knew not to trust Draco, no matter what he said or showed up. He claims that she loved him back at Hogwarts, but she had clear memories of how horrible was then. And even if, somehow, something had changed between them, that did not explain his actions for after they were É together. That he had admitted to the murder of Harry and Hermione, and that he had known her family would die. That he was and still is a Death Eater, and a supporter of the one man who turned the whole world from good to evil overnight. Ginny didnÕt think any amount of memories could change the person she saw now, in the bed next to her. If Draco had taken away her memories, then they were gone forever. But this moment, the Draco she knew right then, was in her mind now. And it was too easy to only look at the negatives, to be pessimistic instead of accepting something that seems so impossible. No one likes change, but to be asked to accept something so unlikely that she couldnÕt even fanthom it without losing a sense of herself É that is where she got stuck. Ginny wanted to believe that Draco had shown enough kindness to her by now to believe that he wasnÕt pure evil like she once thought, at least not to her. But did that change now? Is that how she saw him before? Because the only way she could imagine having feelings for Draco was to give up her own heart and sense of goodness herself. Does being nice to one person excuse the hatred towards all the rest? Ginny rested her hand over her heart, and tried to figure out where, deep down in there, she was able to find room to love a man who only hated others? How could she throw away a lifetime of values and beliefs for one man? Now it wasnÕt a matter of questioning if they were in love before the war. It was trying to figure out what had went wrong to led to such a point. It had to be wrong, Ginny thought, because Draco had, and always will be, someone who went against everything she believed in. Was it the sex? GinnyÕs checks flushed at the dream she had the night before, and of her own memories of being with him in the manor. There was no denying the surge she felt when she was with him; the way he looked at her that made her feel he would do anything for her, that she was incomplete control of him. Even when she was in school, she remembered girls always saying how sexy he was, and through she hated him, she wasnÕt exactly blind, either. Though she never saw him sexy - that would be admitting that she wanted him, which as a Weasley she would do no such thing. But she couldnÕt help but notice how his eyes always looked darker than most boys his age, or that his lips were almost pink and pouty like a girls, or if he had just taken that gel out, he may not look half bad É Ginny shook her head as she felt her body grow warm; thinking of Draco in that way is probably what got her into trouble in the first place. It certainly explained her current situation, with or without the memories. Because how many times had she been with him since she was in the manor? How many times had she fantasized about him, and was able to look past who he really was because of how he made her feel physically? Was sex how it started, and somewhere along the way her na•ve mind confused it with love? Ginny slowly sat up and frowned at DracoÕs back, thankful she couldnÕt see his face. She was somewhere between wanting to hit or kiss him to get her frustration out, and the latter just made her more frustrated. Maybe what she felt for him now was how it began when she was younger. Maybe it was a rebellious stage, and she only wanted Draco because she wasnÕt supposed to have him. She curled her legs up and rested her head on her knees as she concentrated harder. She could think of hundreds of times that Ron, Hermione, and Harry annoyed her at school, always leaving her out and making her feel worthless. Was it ever so bad that she sought revenge by literally sleeping with the enemy? Ginny let out a small groan of frustration and squeezed her eyes shut. The worst part was no matter how much she racked her brain, she would never know the answer. Draco had taken that away from her, and whenever she tried to get it back, all she got was a headache. ÒI told you not to think about it.Ó Ginny let out a yelp and nearly fell off the bed at DracoÕs voice. She balanced herself as her eyes darted over to him, who was now rolled over and watching her with É was that a smirk on his face? Ginny scowled at him, feeling her frustration jump off of her and attack him. Did he really find humor in something she found so confusing and life altering? ÒGet away from me,Ó Ginny said. Her hands itched to hit him until she knocked some of his own memories out. Draco raised his eyebrows at her and then rolled over to his side. His grin widened. ÒGet away from you?Ó he asked as he rested his head on his elbow. ÒI believe youÕre the one in my bed, Weasley.Ó Ginny was too startled at his relaxed, cocky, well É Malfoy-attitude, to reply. The night before he was on his knees, comforting her as she cried. She could see the hurt in his face for her finding out like she did, and the fear that she would deny him after everything he went through. And she knew right then, at the aching feeling she felt, that that was why she was relieved to wake up this morning and not have him staring into her eyes. Because if she saw once more what she saw the night before, how could she deny everything and all her crazed thoughts? She had seen that look before in RonÕs eyes with Hermione, in her parents. And though Harry had done it as well, nothing had ever stirred in her like it did last night. When Harry looked at her with all this love, she felt guilt. When Draco did it, telling her how though she may not remember but that they loved each other, she wanted to believe him. No matter how much it scared her. Draco dropped his smirk as his eyes widened. He raised himself from his elbow and reached out his hand towards her. ÒGin-Ó Ginny stumbled out of the bed and away from his touch. ÒYou are such a liar,Ó Ginny spat, hating herself that her body was trembling. Had she really believed him, that he loved her? Despite all of her questions and denial, was there that hope for love after the war deep down? She looked down at herself, and shame flashed through her at seeing herself in just her underwear. ÒNo, wait,Ó Draco yelled as he pushed himself out of his bed, but she was already running for the door. She just reached it when the door slammed shut and locked by itself. Ginny whipped around and saw Draco pointing his wand at her, with his chest heaving. Fear clawed at her chest, but confusing settled in when Draco lowered his wand and put it down on the bed. ÒDonÕt look at me like that, GinnyÓ Draco said. ÒI just wanted to talk to you before you go hide yourself somewhere for a week.Ó Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. ÒSo now itÕs Ginny? Not done messing with my head, Malfoy?Ó Draco just sighed and put his hand over his face. ÒIt slipped,Ó he said, with his eyes closed. He removed his hand, and to GinnyÕs surprise, he looked guilty. ÒYou have no idea how much effort and concentration IÕve put into not slipping up around you, but IÕm sure you caught me a few times.Ó Ginny frowned. ÒI donÕt understand-Ó ÒWe used to still talk to each other like that,Ó Draco said. ÒYou know, like we would if we were around other people. We would have our moments of just being us, but it was actually your idea to have me still act like an arse so I didnÕt Ôlose my touch.ÕÓ Ginny tried to imagine Draco ever loosing his touch at being a horrible person. ÒSo when you mean slipping,Ó she said, Ò you mean like when you knew what Muggle card game I liked to play.Ó Draco nodded his head. ÒYou made me play it once. It was horribly boring.Ó Ginny felt her lip twitch into smile, but forced it still. ÒAnd how do I know you havenÕt gathered all this information from obsessive stalking? Because despite what youÕve been telling me, you are obsessed, you know.Ó DracoÔs face fell, and Ginny knew she had spoken too much of the truth. Before she could take it back, Draco marched over to her, leaving her very aware that with her back against the door, she had no where to go. She could only brace herself as Draco stopped inches in front of her. ÒBecause of this,Ó Draco said as he titled her chin up with his hand and pressed his lips onto hers. The ÕthisÕ was the gasp that escaped from her mouth at his kiss, and the rush of warmth in her body - not fear. It was her bodyÕs immediate reaction to attach herself to the man in front of her, and to never let go. It was her heart overruling her head, because kissing him just felt right, despite what her head thought. Just when Ginny was allowing herself to relax, Draco pulled away, leaving her catching her breath as he put himself a foot away from her. ÒWhat are you-Ó ÒI canÕt force you to accept everything,Ó Draco said as he shook his head. Ginny watched in a daze as he ran his hands through his hair and pulling hard enough to cause pain. ÒYouÕre not ready. No matter how much I want it.Ó He didnÕt give her time to respond before he practically ran into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Ginny stared at the door with her mouth wide open. Had he seriously just walked away from her when things were just staring to feel right? She was frozen in place as she registered the look on pain and frustration on DracoÕs face, but not with her É with himself. Ginny thought back to the night before and remembered how fragile he had looked, how Draco Malfoy felt defeated and terrified of losing everything he had worked up to that point with her. That while her thoughts went round and round, he was silently sitting by and just hoping that she wouldnÕt reject him completely. Because at this moment he was holding everything that those two had once shared. Ginny tried to imagine how horrible it would feel for anyone to have all the love of a relationship, and have the other person now remember a thing. And to take that and apply it to Draco just deepened it. When Ginny heard the shower turn on, she turned away, defeated, and was going to leave the room when she stopped herself. She knew that if she left now, there would never be a better time to force herself to accept everything. That if she didnÕt move now while her body was still reacting to DracoÕs kiss, than eventually her mind would win and possibly leave her insane with denial and doubt. And before she could let such a thing happen, she was stripping out of her bra and underwear as she almost ran over to the door, worried that she would chicken out. Not even allowing herself to take a deep breath, Ginny opened the bathroom door where a gush of steam blew into her face. She quietly walked in and closed the door, worried that before she could even step in, Draco would tell her to leave. When the steam cleared, Ginny was able to see Draco through the clear shower door. He was leaning against the far wall with the water beating on his back, with his head down and his back to her. Though Ginny knew he didnÕt hear her, she tiptoed to the large shower, now suddenly scared that she was really doing this. Not until she closed the shower door behind her did Draco look up with surprise, his eyes widened as he saw her naked before him. ÒGin?Ó There was a breath of silence before Ginny whispered, ÒIÕm ready.Ó It only took Draco long enough to turn around and face her before her words settled in. He stepped towards her, and though Ginny could see the fear and doubt in him, he gently cupped her face between his hands. He took a good look into her eyes, then bent down and kissed her. Something rushed through Ginny, and it was beyond the warmth and passion she felt at his touch. She wrapped her arms around DracoÕs neck, trying to cling onto him as he continued to kiss her. And then in one move, Draco moved his hands from her face and wrapped them around her thighs, lifting her up to him. He never took his eyes off her as he gently backed her into the wet shower wall and as Ginny wrapped her legs around him and was situated, he stopped. ÒI love you,Ó he said. And before she could react, he slid into her with one smooth motion. They both cried out at the feeling and paused for a second. Ginny didnÕt know why, but it felt so much different from all the other times. Maybe now itÕs because she knew the truth, and it was no more guessing about Draco. It was only on her end now. As Draco slowly pulled out and thrusted back in, Ginny could only cry out and hold onto his shoulders for support. Draco leaned in and grabbed at her lips for a kiss in between each thrust that was so hard her back was scooted up the slick wall, but he always held her close. Her hands moved from his shoulders to his hair where she dug her hands in so deep, Draco hissed and responded with moving even faster, each stroke hitting her so deep she thought she was going to pass out. Just before she almost did, an explosion erupted inside her, and Ginny let out a scream so loud that it echoed in the bathroom. Draco followed shortly after, leaving him moaning heavily into her ear where he nestled his head as his body still jerked. It was awhile before he moved, and though her legs were sore, she didnÕt want him to let go. Draco gently slid out of her and settled her on her feet, making sure she was able to stand. Draco was silent as he washed her, and Ginny appreciated it. There were no more words that could be said by him, and he didnÕt expect any from her. But as they went back to bed despite it being light out, and they nestled in the blankets with Ginny curled into Draco, she wondered if there would ever be a day where she would have a response to those three words. 19. Chapter Fifteen, Part 2 --------------------------- Yes-IÕm back. I promised I would finish this story! But IÕll save my explanations for the bottom of this chapter. But for now, please enjoy the second part of Chapter Fifteen. OK-I donÕt get why this is happening. When I upload my story, I get the weird symbols in place of apostrophes and such. Can someone help me with this? I have Microsoft Word 2008 for Mac. I can only upload as htm, not html, and thus the symbols. I hope you guys donÕt mind them right now – IÕm doing to report it to the admins, and that could take a bit for a response. And you guys have waited long enough. Liz21 ~*~ Chapter Fifteen, part 2 This time, when Ginny awoke, she was happy to see Draco staring at her. Their bodies were still wrapped closely together, their heads resting on the same pillow. Ginny could feel the warmth of the sunlight from the windows, though she had no idea what time it was, or how long she slept for. Her body felt sore, but in a good way, and her mind É well, she decided to put it on pause for the time being. But just to be on the safe side, she leaned forward and kissed Draco on the lips. When she pulled away, she saw DracoÕs face fill with a smirk. ÒWhatÕs that for?Ó she asked. DracoÕs smirk grew. ÒBelieve it or not, this is exactly how you acted at Hogwarts.Ó Ginny felt a surge of fear and doubt run through her but stopped herself from pulling away. Would she ever get use to the idea that her only sense of her past was through Draco, whom she still didnÕt know was a credible source? ÒHow did I act?Ó Draco dragged his fingers down her bare shoulder, sending chills up her spine. ÒHot one minute, cold the next,Ó he said. His eyes left hers to follow the trail he made down her arm. ÒThough you were always like that. ItÕs what made me notice you in the first place.Ó Ginny tried to focus on his words, but his gentle touch distracted her. There was no doubt she had a temper – she grew one the second she was old enough to realize it was the only way she could have control with so many older brothers. ÒYou know, most normal people were afraid of it, not enticed.Ó Draco let out a low chuckle. ÒAnd most people want what they canÕt have,Ó he said. Once his fingertips reached her hips, they turned around and trailed back to her shoulder. Ginny let out a sigh at his relaxing touch. ÒTell me what it was like when we first ÉÓ Her cheeks reddened. She didnÕt want to say when they first had sex, because she didnÕt know if it was sex first, and then a relationship. But based off what just happened in the shower, she was thinking it was the sex. Draco must have noticed her hesitation; his eyes were back on her face, and she could feel her cheeks redden. ÒOr how about when you first realized I wanted you?Ó he said. ÒThatÕs where it really gets interesting.Ó Ginny quickly nodded, worried that the talk of sex would lead away from the verbal communication that she needed right then. She already proved to herself of their sexual connection – many times over. ÒLetÕs see,Ó Draco said as he continued with his moving hand. ÒYou know it started with you falling off your broom. Well, for you at least. When I caught you, and you were forced to look at me – and I mean really look at me as someone who saved you, not just a horrible Malfoy – I could swear something clicked in your mind. Because it was after that when your looks were filled with something other than hate.Ó ÒDid I even acknowledge that you saved me?Ó Ginny asked, trying to wrap her mind around the thought. Draco laughed again. ÒI think you were too shocked to form words. But you didnÕt hit me, at least not right away. And that was enough for me É at the time.Ó Draco paused for a moment; his face grew serious. ÒI broke a promise to myself, that I would never get involved. And the second I chose to save you from falling, I knew things would never be easy again. That IÕd be falling too, forever.Ó At his words, his hand stopped as well as GinnyÕs breathing, but just as soon as she sunk into the seriousness of the situation, Draco smiled and his hand moved again. ÒBut thatÕs when things really picked up. It wasnÕt just about thinking about you, or trying to get a look at you. After I had you in my arms, even for that terrifying moment, it became this restless, obsessive need to have you again. But you werenÕt as cooperative with your feet on the ground. ÒIt started off innocent enough. IÕd catch your eyes in the Great Hall, instead of just looking away. And IÕd hold them until you grew impossibly red, because you knew something was stirring between us, whether you liked it or not. Or IÕd always make sure to be around you, whether it was on the way to classes, or outside studying by the lake. I knew that the more I made sure to be around, the more youÕd realize I wouldnÕt just go away, that you couldnÕt just forget about what happened between us. And that must have worked, because you finally reacted.Ó ÒWhatÕd I do?Ó Ginny asked. ÒDid I hit you?Ó ÒSeveral times,Ó Draco said with a smile. ÒWhen you realized that you couldnÕt ignore me anymore, you started to fight back. IÕll never forget when you confronted me. Despite all my sneakiness and planning, I didnÕt see it coming. ÒYou were supposed to be on the way to Potions. I always saw you then because I had a free period, and on my way to the Slytherin common room I made sure to walk by SnapeÕs class. But this time when I waited for you to walk by, you werenÕt there. ÒI panicked. I thought something bad happened to you –you were never late to class. So instead of waiting around, I decided to find you myself. Only you found me. I was almost out of the dungeons when all the sudden you were there, surprising the hell out of me. It took a minute to realize that you completely caught on, that it was no longer cat chasing the mouse. Now the mouse wanted answers. ÒYou told me you knew I was following you, and you were sick of my stares at dinner. That you were thankful I saved your life, but to just go away already. And the hatred in your voice – I almost believed it, except when you said I was lucky you didnÕt tell your brothers, your voice cracked. You werenÕt mad at me. You were mad at yourself for wanting me to stare at you and to follow you. You were mad that you were betraying your family and Harry, because just the fact that you would approach me meant it bothered you enough to care. ÒSo I took advantage of that weak moment and kissed you. And you decked me.Ó GinnyÕs mouth dropped open. She was so drawn into the story that she didnÕt know to be shocked, or laugh, or cheer herself on for being so aggressive. Because it still felt like this was some other person Draco was talking about, and Ginny was a mere spectator. ÒWhat happened then?Ó Ginny asked. ÒI grabbed your hand when you tried to hit me twice,Ó Draco said. ÒAnd then I kissed you again. Only this time you kissed back.Ó Ginny felt warmth rush through her, and was very aware that DracoÕs hand was back on her shoulder. ÒWhat was it like?Ó she asked, her voice soft. DracoÕs eyes glanced at her lips. ÒA lot like when we first kissed here,Ó he said. ÒAngry. Rough. Passionate. Like you were trying to rid yourself of any feelings for me physically. As if you could just get it out of your system, IÕd somehow disappear.Ó She remembered their first kiss in the manor all too well. It was everything that Draco described, with the added confusion and sense of betrayal — two feelings she still couldnÕt shake. ÒBut what happened then? One kiss couldnÕt have prompted me to lie and sneak around, and risk everything.Ó That she at least knew was true. Despite what memories were missing, or what happened between them, she still had her morals and her pride. Something big had to shaken them up enough. Otherwise it was one hell of a kiss. Draco adjusted himself so his elbow was resting on the pillow, his head in his hand. ÒNo, I found you were much too stubborn for that. ItÕs not to say I expected that some good snogging would get you to forget who you were, and who I was. And I knew it would never be easy, otherwise I would have tried something sooner. I didnÕt expect you to go on pretending that nothing happened, and to somehow hate me even more. But you did. ÒIt was like starting all over again, expect I was two steps back. Before I could watch from afar, and you didnÕt have a clue. It was a secret, and there was no risk. And before I made sure to never get close, but I – we - crossed a line. And it took you awhile to realize that once crossed, you could never go back. ÒA month passed after we kissed. You didnÕt so much look at me during the time, or even acknowledge that I existed. Whenever Potter or your brother would pick a fight with me and you were nearby, youÕd either somehow disappear or look everywhere but me. I didnÕt know if it was so much hate as it was fear.Ó It had to be both, Ginny thought. She could only imagine that the hate she felt was mostly towards herself, and she tried to blame on Draco. She was probably beating herself up for weeks, trying to forget that not only did Draco Malfoy kiss her, but she kissed back. With that one kiss, she had lost a bit of herself. Or whom she thought she was. ÒSo what happened then?Ó she asked. Her voice was above a whisper. It was no longer joking and teasing. She had to know what really drove her to him, beyond a kiss and beyond everything she stood up for. Draco didnÕt say anything for a moment, nor did he look at her. He didnÕt seem to be looking at anything, and just stared off into space. ÒIt was my fatherÕs death,Ó he said finally. GinnyÕs face scrunched in confusion. She draped the blankets around her chest and sat up, staring at him. ÒWhat are you talking about? I donÕt remember –Ó ÒYou couldnÕt remember his death, at least not clearly,Ó Draco said, looking up at her. ÒOf course you know heÕs dead, but probably never thought twice about the exact details, or why they would be fuzzy to you. It was too closely tied with us – it had to go with the rest of the memories.Ó That, she thought, made sense. Why would she be bothered with petty details of how an enemy died? To a certain point in the war, as much as she hated death and was sick of it, there was always a sense of relief when a Death Eater went down. The less there were, the better for the Order. She was never told, anyways, how they died – Harry always thought he was protecting her from knowing the truth. What vague thoughts she had of Lucius was knowing that somehow he died, and she was grateful for it. ÒLike I said, it was a month after we kissed until something happened,Ó Draco began. ÒIt was during dinner when I found out – when everyone did.Ó Draco cleared his throat. ÒHe É Lucius, was on duty. The Dark Lord wanted him to kidnap the minister. Lucius was well known there, so it was easy for him to get in. But when he got there, some of your people were waiting for him.Ó The way he said Òyour peopleÓ made Ginny draw back. It wasnÕt said with anger or hatred, though she imagined it was somewhere there, hidden deep down. It was an accusation, setting her apart from him, to a place she was always meant to be. There was never supposed to be a Ginny and Draco; there should have never been a world where the two could be together. In those two words, it was even clearer that there were his people, his side, his beliefs, and there were hers, and the two would never meet eye to eye. But somehow, they did. ÒThat part was kept quiet,Ó he said, looking away from her, Òas with the next year until people realized there was a war going on right in front of them. All that was said in The Evening Prophet was Lucius Malfoy died on an unknown cause while visiting at the Ministry.Ó Draco let out a harsh laugh that made GinnyÕs skin prickle. ÒThey passed it off as if he died of an illness, as if my father was ever that weak.Ó It wasnÕt DracoÕs dark look on his face that concerned her. ÒYou É you found out from the newspaper?Ó His eyes snapped to hers, and they were clear again, as if her voice broke him out of a fog. ÒThatÕs exactly what brought you to me — pity,Ó he said. GinnyÕs face flushed. ÒI didnÕt mean –Ó ÒIt was pity,Ó Draco interrupted, Òbut itÕs what made you finally see me, without your hatred in the way.Ó Draco rolled over onto his back, with his hands behind his head and his eyes on the ceiling. ÒEvery single person in that hall knew my father was dead the same time I found out, and through all the stares and all the whispers, all I saw were your eyes looking at me for the first time in a month. I knew that Potter and everyone right next to you were happy that it was one less Death Eater to worry about, and all you could do while the hall got louder and the stares grew worse was to just look at me. It was all I wanted you to do all month, and it took the death of my father for you to finally do it. ÒYour eyes didnÕt leave mine until Snape came and got me. He took me to his office, and told me what really happened, and that my mother wanted me home first thing in the morning for the funeral. But through all this, you know what I was thinking?Ó DracoÕs eyes moved to hers. ÒWhile IÕm hearing about how he died, and his funeral, and everything, all I could think about was you finally looked at me. And I knew it was out of pity, but it kept me from losing control of myself.Ó She didnÕt know why, but GinnyÕs eyes were filling with tears. She pulled her knees to her chest, making sure she was covered. ÒWhat happened then?Ó was all she could say. ÒYou found me,Ó he said. ÒI donÕt know how – Snape brought me to a private room so I could be by myself. I didnÕt even know of it, but somehow you managed to find me.Ó Ginny knew there was only one way to find a hidden room – the MarauderÕs Map. Which meant she went into HarryÕs – her boyfriend –trunk and stole it from him to go seek out the last person she should have wanted. Draco may thought it was pity, and maybe that was some of it, but for Ginny to do that É she knew at that point, the decision was already made on her behalf. ÒYou didnÕt know what to do once you got there,Ó he said. ÒYou seem startled – not with being a room with me, by ourselves – but that you actually sought me out. I just stood there, staring, trying to convince myself that you were real, and I hadnÕt gone mad. You didnÕt say a word. I donÕt think you trusted yourself to speak. After we stood there forever, doing nothing, you closed the distance between us and kissed me.Ó Ginny knew it was building up to that. ÒDid we –Ó ÒYes,Ó Draco said. ÒWhen you kissed me, I just É I couldnÕt let you go. I didnÕt know if you were there just to comfort me, or you finally felt something. I didnÕt know if after that night, things would go back to normal, and if it was my last chance. So I led you to the bed, and you went with me.Ó GinnyÕs heart started to quicken. She didnÕt imagine it like that at all. She had tried to picture their first time, and based off their first kiss, she thought it would be fiery, and angry, and just rough sex that showed how they should hate each other. But how Draco made it sound, it was anything but that. It was as if they were real lovers, and not two teenagers caught up in doing something rebellious. ÒWhat was it like?Ó she asked. Her face reddened. ÒI mean, for you and me to finally cross that line, for me to give you my virginity ÉÓ ÒIt was both our first time,Ó Draco said. ÒYou were shaking. And for the first time since it all started with you, I was scared. I knew after that there was no going back. Ever. Our clothes were on the floor, you were on the tiny, single bed in the room, and I hesitated, trying to tell myself I had to be strong enough to walk away. I had never meant for it to go that far. I never wanted you to actually find out, for you to be involved. I was risking enough as it was, and thatÕs why I did nothing for years, and just watched. The less you knew, the safer you were. But before I could do anything, you spoke for the first time. You said you had made your decision and there was no going back. You were pale but your eyes – there wasnÕt pity in them anymore. There was your stubbornness that I had seen numerous times before, where once you decided on something, that was it. I joined you on the bed and I took you slowly, knowing that in the morning nothing would ever be the same again.Ó Draco stared at her. ÒAnd it wasnÕt.Ó Ginny stared at him, her face frozen, hanging onto every word. Draco had made the initial first step, but she finished it. It was her doing – her seeking him out – that really started their relationship. Up until that point, things may have died down. Draco may have grown out of his obsession, and she would have pretended the kiss never happened. Beyond all that, to think that it was Lucius MalfoyÕs death that was the leading factor to what brought them together was hard to take in. She understood the pity – she just felt it when she learned how Draco found out of his death. But what was going on through her mind then? What was she thinking to drive her to cross enemy lines – to betray Harry, who was always faithful? To lie to her family, who loved her more than anyone? Ginny bit her lip as the questions swirled in her head. Everything that Draco just told her was helpful, but it was all his side. And he would only know her side of it based on how much she told him in the past. And what was to say that he was even telling the full truth? She could only take his word on things. What if he only told her bits and pieces, or alternated the scenario to make her accept it more? Harry had always thought that if he didnÕt tell her the whole truth – take out the parts that may make her mad or hurt – that he was protecting her out of love. But she always thought it was a lie – that nothing but the whole truth was a lie. And how can DracoÕs stories be completely true if he only had one side to it? How – ÒAh!Ó Ginny gasped as a sharp pain erupted in her head. Her hands flew to her head, cupping both sides of it, as a white flash erupted behind her closed eyelids. She heard Draco call her name, though it seemed far away. She struggled to find him, to reach out to him, when the white turned to black, and she knew no more. ~*~ The three of them were talking about an upcoming Potions exam. Ginny was only half listening. It bothered her when Harry, Ron, and Hermione would talk about things that she wasnÕt involved in, though she should have been used to it by then. Every now and then Hermione would draw the attention towards her, saying she should be taking notes of what they have to say about the exam, so she had an advantage next year. Ginny only nodded when she heard her name, then the rest of the words would slowly numb out until she was only left with the thoughts in her head. Or a thought – the only though that has been on her mind for the past month. She didnÕt dare look across the Great Hall at him. Even though it was busy during dinner, she couldnÕt chance it. She knew he would be looking at her. Unlike her determination to pretend he didnÕt exist, Draco was doing quite the opposite. She still felt his eyes on her, and it bothered her so much that she went through great strain to avoid being in the same room with him. Meals were the only time they had to be in the same room, though the hundreds of students around her didnÕt block Draco out as she hoped. It was as if the whole room was dark, every person near her was talking but she couldnÕt hear a sound, and there was a spotlight on Draco. Because as hard as she tried to participate in the conversations around her, as hard as she practiced Quidditch to exhaust herself, or as often as she was around Harry, she couldnÕt stop thinking about Draco. And what they did in the hallway. Ginny picked up her fork and poked at her potatoes. She checked to see if the three were still talking, and by the looks of it, they acted as if she wasnÕt there. That was the worst of it all. It had been a month since she did the unthinkable. The fact that she – Ginny Weasley – had kissed her familyÕs greatest enemy, that her body warmed to his touch like it never had with Harry. That just that one kiss had fogged her mind of her hatred for Draco over the past years, and even if she was physically ignoring him, her mind could not stop thinking about him. And not in the sense of a crush – not how it was like with Harry when she was younger. This was something different. ItÕs not to say one kiss made her fall for him – far from it. That one kiss opened up a side to her she never knew existed. Her whole life she thought she would marry Harry, that he was the one for her. And when her and Harry first kissed, it felt like an answer to her prayers. She was so caught up in it all, that she never thought of how her feelings for him were based off a childhood crush, and that she was now a woman. Or that sometimes he felt more like a brother, since her family was practically his. Or that she just sat there, waiting for Harry to come back from his latest adventure with Ron and Hermione, or how he did everything with those two, and that she knew he would never put her on the same pedestal as them. But she thought she had no room for complaints, or unhappiness, because all she needed to be happy was Harry. But when Draco kissed her, she felt every thought, feeling, and justification shattered. Never had Harry kissed her like that, as if he would die if he had to go one more second without touching her. She didnÕt even know there was such a feeling you could show in a kiss. Or a glance. When he kissed her the first time, she hit him out of anger and fear. Him touching her was a road she could never go down, one she didnÕt know to exist, but just a glance at the journey awakened her with a jolt. She had never dreamt of kissing another man except for Harry for the rest of her life, yet here she was with the worst person to do it with. And she was absolutely terrified of how good it felt. She tried to hit him again, to push him away and out of her thoughts. But he was too quick, and Draco grabbed her hand, pushed her against the wall, and kissed her again. Ginny felt her body grow warm at the thought. It was unlike anything sheÕs ever experienced. She was taken aback by his strength and force, but she wasnÕt frightened. She should have been – a Malfoy had her cornered, he held her hands above her head so she couldnÕt fight, and his mouth was on hers. She couldnÕt have gotten him off if she wanted to. But that was the problem – she didnÕt want him to stop. So she kissed him back with every ounce of hatred and confusion she felt towards him. When she opened her mouth under his, there was a slight gasp from him, as if he too couldnÕt believe what was going on between them. But it didnÕt slow him down, and she was thankful. He dropped her hands and used his own to cup her face, drawing her closer to him. He was everywhere: his tongue, his lips, his scent. All Ginny could do to hold on was sink her hands into his hair, which she learned by the feeling of something digging into her leg that he liked it. The biggest thought she couldnÕt get out of her head, which led her to thinking about it over dinner a month later, was that she didnÕt want him to stop. She was snogging the hell out of Draco Malfoy in the hall, and she would have let him take her right against the wall without a second thought. And that was when she was really woken up about Harry. Up to that point in their relationship, they had only made out, with the occasional groping over the clothes. She knew Harry was a shy boy, and she always assumed she was too, because she didnÕt feel the necessity to take things further. But how did that explain what happened with Draco in the hallway? ShouldnÕt she want to be with the one she loved? ÒWhat is it this time?Ó Harry said, breaking her thoughts so quickly that she jumped. No one noticed though, because they were all looking up at the ceiling. Owls were delivering what looked to be The Evening Prophet, which made GinnyÕs stomach drop. It was never a good sign that there was news in the beginning of a war that couldnÕt wait for the morning. The hall grew quieter as the more papers were dropped and the more eyes read what was on the front page, and by the time it reached to Harry, all was still except the rustle of paper. Before she could move, Ron and Hermione were crowding over her to see HarryÕs copy. She rolled her eyes and sat back in her seat, knowing she would have to wait for her turn of the copy, when Ron moved an inch and the headline caught her eye. ÒLucius Malfoy Found Dead at MinistryÓ It was as if someone had drowned out what little noise there was in the room, and put a speaker up to her beating heart, growing louder the second as the words sank into her brain. It was the name she had tried to forget about, tried to erase the secrets she had with it. And there it was, in bold black letters, tied to a first name she had hated since her first year. She blinked at the paper, aware that pain and relief mixed through her. Relief that the man who tried to kill her once was dead; pain, because she knew that as she and the rest of Hogwarts learned of Lucius MalfoyÕs death, so did his son — the person she couldnÕt stop thinking about. ÒLook here,Ó Harry went on. Ginny only noticed that he was talking the whole time about the article. ÒIt says that Malfoy died of Ôunknown causes.ÕÓ Harry let out a small chuckle that pounded in GinnyÕs ear and made her skin prickle. ÒLooks like the Order finally got him.Ó ÒGood,Ó Ron said, already settling back into his food. ÒNow if someone could just take care of the other prick, my life would be complete.Ó All around her, the room was buzzing with noise again. The louder it got, the faster her heart beat, until she couldnÕt take it anymore. She gave away everything at that moment and looked across the hallway at Draco. His eyes were still glued to the paper. Every head was turned towards him, and he seemed oblivious as his eyes grew bigger, and his face became paler. Pansy, who was sitting next to him, was teary eyed and trying to talk to him, but Draco paid no attention to her. It looked to Ginny as if Draco had forgotten people surrounded him, until his eyes moved from the paper to her. She was too sad to be scared, and she knew at that moment, he needed her. For whatever he felt towards her — his obsession with her, of following her and always staring at her, of never letting her forget him — she would give into it for that moment if it would help him. Snape had approached Draco, and while the two walked out of the room, GinnyÕs eyes followed. She felt the tables have turned, that she was now the one watching and planning out her next move. ÒSo what now?Ó Hermione asked. She too glanced up at Draco while he walked out of the Great Hall. ÒWe send Remus an owl,Ó Harry said, Òand tell him we want to talk to him at the common room fireplace at midnight. HeÕll tell us what really happened.Ó HarryÕs voice drew Ginny back to reality. She knew that voice – it was when him, Ron, and Hermione would go off and do something, and she would be left alone. GinnyÕs eyes widened, and her heart picked up again. For the first time, she was happy to be left alone by the three because that meant it would be easier getting to someone else who needed her more than anything at the moment. It was that easy, Ginny realized as she snuck down the dark corridors underneath HarryÕs invisibility cloak, with his MarauderÕs Map in one hand. But the simplicity of sneaking out of the common room didnÕt ease her nerves. She had done the unthinkable: She not only stole from her boyfriend, and lied to all three about feeling ill and going to bed early, but she was doing it all to see Draco Malfoy. But most disturbing was she was nervous about what she would do when she found Draco, not that she lied to those she should care more about. His name appeared in a hidden room on the map. It was near the dungeons, but when she approached, what she assumed was the door was a wall. She would have stared at it all day, contemplating if she should go in, knowing what line she was crossing, when she realized she already did so by making that trip. She folded the map, and with a deep breath, she pushed on the wall. The wall slid to the side, and closed by itself when she entered the room. The room was dark, and by the time her eyes adjusted to it, she realized that Draco was standing a few feet away, staring at her in complete shock. She noticed right away that he was standing next to a single bed, which tripled her nerves before she could look away. There were no windows; the only light came from a dozen candles around the room, which shined off DracoÕs face, accenting his facial structure and making his eyes glow. After a moment, his eyes lost the shocked look, though she still felt it in every inch of her body. ÒHow did you ÉÓ was all Draco said before he was silent again. Ginny felt the map in her robe pocket, but she couldnÕt say a word. Anything she said would be a sure sign of betrayal, and she was still trying to figure out what she was doing there, in a room with him, alone. Her eyes dropped to the floor; there was a copy of The Evening Prophet near DracoÕs feet, as if he dropped it when he heard the door open. She looked back up, not wanting him to see the pity in her eyes, to see what initially drove her to him. Whatever Draco felt for her – whoever this person was in front of her – confused her. But she knew he still had his Malfoy pride, and he may push her away out of anger. And then what would she do, knowing she crossed that line and was rejected? His face tightened when she looked back at him, but not out of anger. He was hurting. She was there to comfort him, but she had no idea how, or what he wanted. So she thought back to before with him, and how great kissing him made her feel, and that it had to have the same affect on him É Before she could talk herself out of it, she rushed towards Draco and kissed him. She meant to kiss him hard like last time, to show that she still hated him, but when she got there, it was anything but that. She touched his lips softly and then drew back to look at him, to see if this was what he wanted. His lips were parted, and his breath already quickened. But his eyes answered her question: there was a spark to them she hadnÕt seen since he kissed her, a spark she was afraid would die at the news of his fatherÕs death. She was hesitant on her next step when Draco took control, showing her what to do. He swooped down, taking her lips again with a soft kiss. His hands settled on her hips, keeping her close to him as if he was afraid she would run. But she knew at that moment she wasnÕt going anywhere. At this moment, she was with someone who needed her more than a person ever has before. And maybe she needed him back. The kiss became urgent. His lips deepened against hers, and he slipped his tongue into her mouth. Ginny sighed against his touch and kissed back, feeling a heat from her stomach to her toes. DracoÕs hands moved from her hips and to her shoulders, where he gathered her robe and slipped it off. It hit the ground and pooled at her feet, and DracoÕs followed shortly. GinnyÕs hands were shaking as she undid his tie. She continued to kiss him so he wouldnÕt see how nervous she was, but then realized while he undid her buttoned top, he was shaking as well. Each particle of clothing fell to the floor, until it was just her and Draco kissing, skin touching skin. Draco didnÕt let go of her until she was on the bed, and then he hesitated. She could see the fear in his eyes, because she felt it, too. They had already gone far enough. They should stop; they shouldnÕt have even started. But that was before Ginny knew she could feel what she was right then. ÒIÕve already made my decision,Ó she said, her voice breaking the silence. ÒThereÕs no going back.Ó He stared at her, as if processing what she said, and then stepped forward and joined her on the bed. She lay down on her back, this time unable to hide her shaking. Draco covered her body with his, and just stayed there for a moment and kissed her. He started at her lips, and slowly went down her neck. He was gentle – far more than she could imagine from him. It was as if he was savoring every moment because he took his time. Her heart quickened when he stopped kissing her and looked her into the eyes. She grasped onto his back when she felt him position himself in front of her, and with a quick thrust, he entered her. Ginny cried out in pain, digging her nails into DracoÕs skin. Draco stopped his movements, and when she could breath again, she nodded and he continued. Slowly, each time he pushed inside her, the pain melted and it was replaced with pleasure. Ginny wrapped her legs around DracoÕs hips, sending him in deeper, making him grunt and her gasp. Then his movements became faster, each thrust making her dizzier and warmer until something in her exploded, sending waves of pleasure from her head to her toes. Draco followed shortly after, groaning in her ear before he collapsed on top of her. They laid there for awhile, both trying to catch their breaths. Neither said a word. What do you say, Ginny thought, after sleeping with your enemy? ~*~ Thanks for reading! This may have been an awkward place to stop for some. ItÕs no secret that what just happened is a memory – Ginny has been having them often enough throughout the story. But there is more to how precise her memory is – thatÕs to come in the next chapter. Good news — I finally found Òmy placeÓ to write. IÕm the kind of writer where I canÕt write just anywhere; I need dead quiet (too ADD for noise and music to play!) and a place I feel comfortable in. I finally checked out my local library, and itÕs really nice and perfect. Which means updates will be more frequent again. Yay! So that was the big problem of the slow updates – just getting settled into my new home and my new job. As IÕve said before, IÕm the editor of a magazine, so IÕm pretty busy most of the time! When I was writing this, I thought to myself ÔMan – do I always have to write about sex?Õ in a sense that I didnÕt want my story to just be about that. But itÕs amazing what you can learn from your characters. I realized that sex was GinnyÕs introduction to her relationship with Draco – that everything for her really started with that kiss, where Draco started for other reasons. And thatÕs why sex, once again, is GinnyÕs way of figuring out her and Draco. She knows what she feels with Draco, but itÕs the emotional/mental connection that confuses her. IÕm sure most of you are thinking, ÒNo shit, Sherlock.Ó Anyways, expect the next update within a month. My birthday is coming up soon, so IÕll be free after then. Thanks again to everyone for being super patient! ItÕs because of you guys that I dug myself out of my non-writing habit, and I couldnÕt be happier! Liz21 20. Author's Note- please don't hate me-last one ------------------------------------------------ Hi everyone. Yes another update. I am being careful on not using certain punctuation because of the weird symbols I get. I think it is because I upload from a Mac. For the rest of the story I will upload it from my brothers PC. So excuse grammar and talking funny for now. I have reached a critical point with the story which is why it is taking forever to add a new chapter. Basically right now I need to go back and reread everything to make sure I am closing all the holes and not forgetting anything important. When I decided to write this story I knew everything that would happen up to the climax. Now I need to double check my work and all the facts leading up to this point. I have to say that rereading my work is weird especially since I started it a few years ago. I would have done a lot of things differently but I am amused with the many subtle hints I have left along the way. At the end of the story I may go back and point out a few for fun. But for now I guarantee an update by the end of June. I WILL finish this story. I have just hit a major writers wall and want to get everything right. Not to mention weÕre about a few weeks behind at my magazine and I am baking my friends wedding cake like I had any extra time. Thanks for your patience. Liz21 21. Chapter Sixteen ------------------- Hello my ever-faithful readers! Did I not promise an update by the end of June? Yes, it’s the very last day of June, but it’s here. I want to thank everyone SO much for being patient. The reviews were amazing — I read them all to push myself to continue with this story. This chapter is for every one of you, and for my amazing beta, Amanda, who went right to work even after I disappeared for a few months. There are possibly four chapters left. Possibly as in I never really know where the chapter or storyline will take me until I’m writing it. July is going to be pretty hectic, but I decided to permanently make Wednesdays my writing days. This is why you all should know how much I appreciate you – I’m skipping the gym to finish this story, and I’m a gym junkie! Enough rambling. On with the show! Chapter Sixteen ~*~ When Ginny opened her eyes, Draco was hovering over her face. His face was pale and panic-stricken, and looked older than the face she had just seen in her mind. Or her memory, Ginny thought, of how she and Draco started their secret relationship. He may have initiated it, but she followed through. Draco’s hands cupped her face; his skin felt hot against her cheeks. “Are you OK?” he asked, his eyes wild and his voice strained. “Do you feel different? Anything hurt?” Ginny stared up at him, confused. She could tell by the sound of his voice that something wasn’t right. But she had more important things to figure out. “*The Evening Prophet*,” she said, “the one that announced your father’s death. Do you have it?” Her steady voice betrayed how she felt; her mind was in a whirlpool, and she was trying to fight the current. What she just dreamt – no, it was real. Or at least it felt real. What just went on her in mind – a memory, a flashback, a hallucination – it felt as real as Draco’s hands against her face. Her only hope of not losing her mind was to prove how much of it was factual. Draco scrunched his eyebrows, but to Ginny’s relief he did not ask questions. Instead, he gave her a quizzical look before he stood up. Only then did she notice she was lying in bed, naked, as she had been before she had the vision, but that Draco had pants on and was standing next to the bed. “What happened?” Ginny said, her voice weaker. She felt her face; it was warm and moist, as if she was sweating. “You fainted,” Draco said from across the room. At the sound of a drawer closing, Ginny clutched the blankets around her chest and sat up while Draco walked away from a small desk in the corner of his room. He handed her a crinkled, faded copy of *The Evening Prophet*. It was just as she had seen it in her mind: “Lucius Malfoy Found Dead in Ministry” in bold, black letters. She wasn’t going crazy and if that was true, then the following events had happened as well. She put the paper up her lap and looked at Draco who was still standing. “It was exactly how you described,” she whispered, more to herself. “Your father’s death … me coming to your room … us. You were telling the truth.” She thought Draco would be satisfied with her words, but his face was tight, and there was no smile. “And how do you know that?” Ginny frowned. His cold voice erased any warm feelings that were gathering. “I … in my head. I was thinking about it after you told me, then I felt a sharp pain and —” Ginny stopped. She knew she had said too much by the look of anger and sadness on his face. It was the same look when she had found out that he had taken her memories, and when he said she wasn’t ready to accept the truth and he couldn’t force her. It was the look of a defeated man who regretted a decision he had made. “What did you do to me?” she whispered. Draco grabbed a robe off the ground and handed it to her. “Get dressed.” He wouldn’t look at her. Ginny stared at the robe, then him. “You did this when you took my memories. You … you did something wrong.” Draco’s hand clenched the robe, but he still would not look at her. “I don’t make mistakes. I know exactly what I’m doing.” “Then why is your hand shaking?” They both looked at his shaking, pale hand that still clenched the robe as if it was someone’s neck. Ginny knew he wouldn’t remove it, though, because that would draw attention to the fact that she had something on him. And he couldn’t back out of the corner that easily. Instead, she leaned over and grabbed the robe. He didn’t look at her as he let it go and she put it over her naked body. Despite what lie he was telling, she just couldn’t see him in such a state. It frightened her to see Draco so unnerved. She stood up next to him. She stayed there until he finally looked her in the eye. They held each other’s gaze for a moment. “How do you expect me to believe what you say about the past when you don’t tell me the truth about the present?” Draco showed no emotion. “Before you never doubted me.” Ginny tightened the sash around her waist. “I’m not too sure that part of me existed.” She walked away and out of his room before he could convince her to do otherwise. When she thought her newest memory would bring her one step closer, it only put her and Draco two steps behind. ~*~ It was hard to put herself in Draco Malfoy’s shoes when she wasn’t sure who he really was. The Draco she grew up with was easy to describe: arrogant, spoiled, evil little bugger with greasy hair, who never had a worry so she would never be in situation of seeing it from his side. And he was the same when she was brought to Malfoy Manor as a prisoner, minus the greasy hair. But the Draco she knew now … despite what was truth or lies, she had seen hurt in his face. She had heard his laughter. She had felt his gentle hands on her body. The more she was around him, the more she realized Draco Malfoy was a human being after all, and not a monster. Had she done that? Had she changed him? Ginny pondered over this as she brushed her hair. She had showered and changed into a simple shirt and jeans. Though her wand was in the back pocket and she could have used magic to do her hair, she enjoyed the soothing strokes of the brush. If she closed her eyes, she could pretend it was her mother’s hand, trying to calm her. The closer Ginny was to discovering who Draco was there was another setback. There had been many situations that proved there was more to Draco than a nasty human being, but what was his motive? If his whole mission was to gain her trust, reveal their secret past — maybe even hope for her to fall in love with him again — why wasn’t he laying all the cards on the table? His big secret was out; what was Draco still hiding? There was a knock at her door, making her hand pause. She wasn’t ready to face Draco yet. If she had to deal with one more lie, one more reason to make her question everything leading up to this point, she didn’t know how she would handle it. After another knock, Ginny made an effort to take a deep breath, put down her brush, and walk towards the door. No matter how angry, annoyed, or tired she was of it all, she would have to face what was on the other side of that door. She didn’t come this far to give up. Ginny opened her bedroom door. “What is it this time, Dra-” Snape stood in front of her, not Draco. Ginny almost yelped at the sight of him. It has to be a shock for anyone to expect a face like Draco and instead get Snape. “Wha- what are you doing here?” Ginny asked, collecting herself. “Did Draco send you?” Snape pushed past her and shut the door behind him, locking them in her room. A sudden fear clutched at her chest — not at being stuck in a room with a Death Eater, despite what Snape’s story may be — but at the look on his face. She had seen Snape angry, annoyed, and even startled. But now, he just look worried and made no attempt to hide it. To see Snape so … normal scared her. “Draco doesn’t know I’m here, so we must make this quick,” Snape hissed. He pulled out his wand and cast a silencing charm on the door. “What’s wrong? Is everything OK?” Ginny asked. Snape shook his head. “It’s Lovegood,” he said. “She’s dying.” Ginny’s legs felt like jelly; she had just enough strength to stumble back onto her bed before she hit the ground. “Luna?” was all she could mutter. The only friend who had survived the war? The person she had just found so recently … she was leaving her like all the rest of them? Those two words grabbed hold of her and brought her back to the place she tried so hard to forget — the dark, cold, empty place she felt her mind recede to somewhere inside when those she loved were picked off one by one. Ginny willed herself not to cry, not in front of Snape, not like this. “How … why …” “She went through premature labor,” Snape said, looking over his shoulder at the door. “Flint was … a bit too rough with her.” Thoughts of despair and grief were replaced with sudden anger; it was like a high. Adrenaline coursed through Ginny, bringing her to her feet. “That bastard,” Ginny spat. She wanted to hurt him. If she only had when she was at the ball, when she had that knife pressed to his neck, making him promise to leave Luna alone … And then, that worried look Snape had fell into place. He wasn’t worried about Luna’s state, because he had never shown much concern for her in the first place. He was worried about Ginny’s reaction to what happened to Luna, and what caused the abuse in the first place. “It was because of me,” Ginny said. “I threatened him. I told him to leave her and the baby alone, and I’d let him live. And then he saw my face.” When Snape’s face didn’t change, she knew it was the truth. Nausea swept over her, but she fought it. “It’s revenge,” she said. “He’s doing this just to get back at me, to ruin me.” Another event occurred to her, one that happened before she discovered Draco’s memory of them being lovers. “The last time I saw you was when Draco was called away to You-Know-Who. It was after the incident with Flint, when Draco attacked him to save me, and I thought Draco was being punished for doing so. But you said nothing happened. Was this —” “Flint never went to the Dark Lord about what took place at the masquerade ball,” Snape said. “That would ruin all the fun for him.” Ginny shook her head. “No, no this can’t be happening,” she said, getting louder by the word. “She’s the only one I have left. He couldn’t have … how could he sacrifice a life for his pride?” She stared at Snape with an urge of desperation. “And the baby?” Snape glanced at the floor. “She’s struggling.” A girl. Luna had a baby girl. A glimpse of hope passed through her, not only for the baby to survive but also at the chance Flint may give her away since she is a female and couldn’t be his heir. Any home would be better than a rapist’s and a murder’s. “You said Luna’s dying,” Ginny said, “as in she’s not dead yet — she’s still alive.” “Before she lost consciousness she asked me to get you.” Snape shook his head. “I thought she was speaking gibberish. How could she know I have contact with you?” “You’d be surprised at how well Luna can read people,” Ginny said, thinking back to her meeting with the blue-eyed girl, when she spoke of Draco’s true feelings. “But that’s enough talking.” She grabbed her green cloak off the chair. “Take me to her.” Ginny was surprised but thankful when Snape didn’t object. His whole being here — sneaking around Malfoy Manor, silencing the door, taking her to the one place Draco wouldn’t want her to be — went against how he had acted so far. But when Snape opened the door and checked if it was clear, she realized this was his final act of loyalty. Snape had been known for years as a traitor to the Order of the Phoenix, and now he was about to clear his name to help the last member save her only friend left. When they were in the hallway, Ginny hesitated outside Draco’s door. She was mad at him and sick of his games, but she had a nagging feeling that she should tell him where she was going. Last time she was near Flint, horrible things almost happened. And they only didn’t because of Draco. But Draco would also stop her from going. He wouldn’t care — couldn’t understand — that someone she loves is dying, and she needs to be with that person. Luna was still alive, and every second Ginny wasted trying to explain herself to Draco, the closer Ginny was to loosing her. If Flint was there, she would deal with him. This time she had a wand, and only Snape and Draco knew that. Ginny followed Snape down the stairs and out of the manor. This was her fight. The war wasn’t over yet. Snape told her, as they quickly walked down the path towards the gate to Apparate to Flint’s mansion, not to worry about Flint. When he learned his child was a girl, he told Snape to “toss it” and then left in a rage. According to Snape, he was either drunk or at one of his whores’ places. That didn’t stop the nerves in Ginny’s stomach before they Apparated together. When Ginny opened her eyes again, she was inside a room. “How did we get inside?” she whispered to Snape. She couldn’t help but keep her voice down at the enemy’s house. “I took down the wards before I left,” he said. He grabbed her arm and led her out of the main hall. “We can’t waste any more time.” Ginny nodded and let Snape guide her up the spiraling staircase. Each step built the tension in her muscles and the adrenaline in her nerves. She was terrified of what she would find, but her loyalty to Luna and hatred towards Flint overpowered it. And somewhere in the middle stood Draco. There was once a time when she despised him more than Flint. If what Draco said was true about them being secret lovers, then there was also once a time that her loyalty was to him, and she chose him before her friends and family. It was not that time now. She pushed Draco out of her mind. With every step his image grew stronger in her head, and her heart beat faster with a secret wish that he was there by her side. But up until this point, Draco was always making the decisions, and choosing the sacrifices. Where did that leave her besides alone, confused, and aching for something real? Now reality was in her grasp, and she couldn’t just walk away. She remembered the dead look in Luna’s eyes and the numbing pain in her voice. Ginny had to save Luna. “What’s really going on with you and Draco?” Snape’s voice made Ginny jump, and his wording confused her. Before, he had seen enough to gather his own decisions: walking in on her and Draco in bed, seeing the contraceptive potion. Regardless of what she tried to say in her defense, Snape always passed along his warnings to not get close to Draco, and that he wasn’t to be trusted. If that wasn’t enough, her last visit with Snape uncovered that her memory was blocked. “I … I don’t know what you mean,” Ginny said. Was there a chance that Snape knew what Draco blocked, of their secret affair? Her stomach turned at the thought; she was tied between wanting another side of what happened and fearing that it could be used against her or Draco. She felt safe enough with Snape to bring her away from Malfoy Manor, but she also knew if anyone learned the truth of what Draco had done, he would be in trouble. She glanced at Snape, and saw his pale cheeks flush red, as if he was angered at her playing stupid. First he was worried, and now he was angry. She had never seen him react this much. “I mean,” Snape said slowly, “that you can confide in me. Surely you must trust me enough.” They had stopped outside a door, and though she knew Luna was on the other side, all Ginny could do was stare at Snape. Something was bothering her. Snape of all people should know what it was like to trust anyone in the dark world they now lived in. She couldn’t even trust the person she was sleeping with, whom she had a supposed past with. Snape would have enough sense not to question a subject of trust. It reminded her of when she overheard Snape ask Draco if he trusted her. “Trust is a tricky thing that I don’t think any of us should take lightly,” Draco said. Snape opened up the door to a dark room. “Luna’s in here.” Ginny didn’t move. Draco’s words were on repeat in her head. Somewhere a clock chimed the hour, and Snape’s eyebrow twitched, as if his patience was running out. “Ginny?” Ginny stared into the room. It was Luna’s voice. It sounded strained and faint, and all of her confusion with Snape faded from her mind. She was here for a reason. “Luna,” she said and pushed past Snape. When her eyes adjusted to the dark room, Ginny stopped. There was a bed, but no one was in it. Ginny spun around to question Snape. “What —” Ginny stopped. There was a wand in Snape’s hand and a smirk on his face. He whispered a spell and as candles lit around them Ginny watched Snape’s crooked nose shape to a smaller, upturned nose, and his black eyes turned to blue. His height shrunk, his body became curvy, and his hair went from greasy black to straight and brown. It wasn’t Snape who had brought her to Flint’s mansion. It was Pansy. All Ginny could do was take a step back. It was too late to go for her wand — Pansy was already pointing hers. “What’s the matter, Weasley?” Pansy asked in a voice that sounded like nails on a chalkboard. “You look as if you’ve never seen the effects of Polyjuice Potion before.” Ginny’s head was spinning. How could she be so stupid? She knew something was off with Snape the moment he walked into her bedroom and looked worried. And then to have him question her and Draco … “Where’s Draco?” Ginny asked. “What have you done with him?” “Well aren’t you a loyal pet?” Pansy asked as she took a step closer. “Haven’t you noticed that that’s what got you here in the first place?” She laughed. “We knew it would be too easy to get a Gryffindor running over here. All you need is to offer them a little bait and make them a hero.” Dread filled Ginny’s stomach. “We?” “Now how would I be a proper host if I wasn’t here to greet my guests?” said a male voice behind her. Ginny spun around. Flint was leaning on the wall behind her next to a mirror. He barked out a laugh. “I forgot how much I miss that look,” he said as he stared at her. “Have you forgotten already, Weasley, what Slytherins are best at? We’re not all as nice as Malfoy.” Flint spit Draco’s name as if it was dirt on his lips. It made Ginny flinch, but she held her ground. “You want to know something funny?” Flint asked as he walked away from the mirror and towards her. Ginny fought not to back away, and was thankful when he stopped a few feet in front of her. “At Hogwarts, we thought of Malfoy as some sort of leader. I mean, with a father like his, he was raised to know hate, to understand how to screw over everyone and do anything — and I mean anything — to get what he wanted. Even though he was younger, I knew one day with the Dark Lord in charge, Malfoy would be at the top. “I always hated the prat, but I respected him. We had a mutual understanding of each other. Among Death Eaters, there are no friends. Only those who you know won’t turn on you if given a chance.” Ropes sprung out of his wand before Ginny could move. She yelled as they wrapped tightly around her torso, pinning her arms to the side. Panic didn’t set in until it stopped there, and she saw that her legs were not tied together. When she looked up, Flint was in front of her. He was so close that she could see the glint in his eyes, and smell tobacco on his breath. His smirk was replaced with a crazed smile, like someone who had waited his whole life for something, and it was now in his grasp. “But that all changed, didn’t it?” Flint whispered. He walked away from her and leaned against the bed, staring at her. “Don’t think of me as a bitter man, Weasley. My heart isn’t broken that Malfoy had the nerve to attack me.” Ginny’s heart stopped. From the moment she saw Flint, she assumed this was his way of getting even with Draco. Of course, for Draco to attack Flint for her, a traitor and filth to Flint, had to cross him enough to seek revenge. “Then why am I here?” Ginny said. She may have felt fear, but she refused to show it. Flint smiled at her. “I want a taste of whatever was good enough to break the famous Draco Malfoy.” Ginny forced herself not to cry. She knew from the moment she saw him to when he left her legs untouched what he planned to do with her. But when Flint reached for her and grabbed the ropes, Ginny did yell. She screamed the moment she felt his rough hands on her skin. When he went to grab her clothes, Ginny kneed him hard in the crotch. Flint dropped his hands with a sharp breath, but before Ginny could recover, he slapped her across the face so hard she staggered backwards. The wall caught her, and as Ginny leaned against it, catching her breath, she looked up at Flint through the curtain of hair that covered her face. Before he was playing. Now he meant business. “That’s enough.” Ginny jumped at Pansy’s voice — she had forgotten she was there. Pansy pointed her wand and Ginny and the ropes dropped to the ground, freeing her. For a brief moment, desperate hope engulfed Ginny that as a woman, Pansy wouldn’t allow such a thing. That even though Pansy killed many people, she couldn’t stand by and watch another woman be raped. But the look on Pansy’s face scared her far more than Flint’s. In Flint’s words, he wanted a sample of Ginny. In Pansy’s eyes, she wanted to get rid of Ginny. “We agreed that I would seek my revenge first before you break her,” Pansy said to Flint. She looked back at Ginny when she said “break.” Ginny wanted to feel relief that Flint couldn’t touch her, not yet, but she couldn’t breathe from the look in Pansy’s eyes. Flint didn’t like the idea either. “Not anymore,” he growled. “You had your chance when you brought her over here.” “She wouldn’t talk, you idiot,” Pansy snapped. She pointed her wand at him, sparks erupting from the tip. “Get out now, or I’ll make you.” There was no room for choice. In all her years of knowing Pansy, Ginny had never seen her so serious or so angry. Flint must have thought so, too, because though he glared at her, he left the room without a look back. He slammed the door, causing the candles to flicker from the gust of air. Ginny and Pansy watched each other in the flickering light. Shadows of light danced across Pansy’s face, making the anger in her face more intense, and Ginny more aware that she was better off with Flint. “You should have killed yourself when you had the chance, Weasley.” Ginny’s mouth dropped open. “How do you —” “How do I know you slit your wrists before the Dark Lord could murder you?” Pansy finished. “I gave you the knife.” Silence filled the room. The two stared at each other as Ginny tried to collect her thoughts and memories. “But you were with Draco that day,” Ginny said. “He told me. I thought it was you and he said you were with him.” “You really are worthless,” Pansy said. “It was Polyjuice, Weasley. I had Flint use it to become me. I told him to go with Draco that day, that I had a special assignment from the Dark Lord I needed to take care of. But really, I knew if I succeeded, and you killed yourself, Draco wouldn’t stop at anything to find out who it was. And he’d kill them as well.” It wasn’t finding out that Pansy gave her the knife that made Ginny’s stomach drop. It was that before Draco claimed Ginny as his prisoner, Pansy knew that a Malfoy would care that a Weasley was killed. Pansy knew Draco’s secret. She knew everything. Ginny’s face flushed; she felt like she was going to be sick. Pansy must have seen it on her face, because she nodded. “That’s right, Weasley,” she said. “All this time Draco thought he was being so careful. He certainly did fool a lot of people, including the Dark Lord. Except Draco had forgotten that before you came around, I knew him best.” Ginny took a deep breath, making sure her stomach would stay down. “How long did you know?” “The moment he wouldn’t look at me anymore,” she said so quietly, Ginny thought she maybe was imaging it. “Unlike Flint, I don’t take it lightly when someone on my side chooses filth over me.” For a moment, Ginny almost felt sorry for her. She could see the pain in her face, a feeling she must have harbored for years and told no one about. Ginny remembered Draco talking about him and Pansy, and saying it was like her and Harry — they were together merely for appearances, but the feelings weren’t there. She imagined Harry looking like that if he had ever found out about her and Draco. Her and Draco. She knew at that moment, from the broken look on Pansy’s face, that they did indeed have something going on at Hogwarts. Ginny may not have known the details, but the truth was written all over Pansy. “Does Draco know?” was all Ginny could ask. Pansy looked at her, as if she was coming out of a daze, or a memory. “Of course not,” she said. “Do you think he would trust me enough to let me live?” “But you haven’t said anything yet.” “That’s because unlike him, I know where my loyalties stand,” Pansy spat. “This isn’t about some teenage love, or me not getting my way. I sat back for years knowing what was going behind everyone’s back because I didn’t have the strength to turn in the one person I had any connection with. We lost people on our side also, Weasley. Every time he would appear happier, or hesitate before he attacked a Gryffindor, or sneak around duties and have other people die in his place, I knew it was all for you. Every damn time I was one step closer to going to the Dark Lord because I was so sick of seeing it all, but as more people died around me, I realized I couldn’t lose him. I just couldn’t do it.” Pansy’s eyes glistened, and her body shook. “So when you were caught and in prison, I knew then that the only way to get rid of the problem was to get rid of you.” Ginny was too shocked to react to Pansy’s last sentence. She had never thought about how the war affected the other side on an emotional level. Every time someone she loved died, she hated the Death Eaters and dark side even more. And every time one of them died, it was a win for her. “I don’t remember anything,” Ginny said before she could think. She wasn’t making excuses. She just had to say it. “He took all my memories of him. Of us.” Pansy nodded. “I thought as much. You were different in prison than you were at school. If I was careful enough at Hogwarts, I could see you sneak glances at him in the Great Hall, or smile a little when your shoulders brushed in the halls. But when you were brought into prison, after mysteriously being away while your whole family was murdered, you looked just as confused as the rest of us. And the few times I saw you after with Draco, you looked at him differently. You didn’t love him, but I also noticed that you didn’t hate him, as a prisoner should. As a Weasley and Malfoy should.” Pansy’s words struck a chord. “It’s true then?” she asked. “I really did love him?” For a moment, it felt like Ginny was talking to a best friend, someone she could spill all of her secrets to with the relief of no longer carrying them around. But then reality kicked in as Pansy’s face darkened. Pansy may have known the truth, and she may have kept it to herself. But she wanted to hear nothing more of it. “I told you Weasley,” Pansy said, “there will be a time and a place when Draco can’t rescue you.” Ginny stared at Pansy’s wand pointed towards her. She had to buy time. She had to think. “But if you kill me Draco will know it was you. He’ll come after you.” “Who said I’m going to be the one to finish you off?” she said. “There’s a reason I told Flint he could have you after I’m done. To him, you’re too damaged to fight him off. To Draco, it will look like Flint raped and murdered you. I’ll have no part in this.” “But if you really care about Draco like you say you do, wouldn’t it kill you to see him suffer like that?” Ginny cried as she backed against the wall. “Do you think he’s just going to go back to you and forget about me?” The last words came out more bitter than she had meant. Up until that point, Ginny’s plan was to reason. But then the truth snuck out, and she knew there was no reasoning with someone who had probably planned this for years. Whatever Ginny and Draco had done in the past to hurt Pansy, she was dealing with it now. The look on Pansy’s face promised that Ginny would feel every ounce of hatred. “Crucio!” Pansy yelled as she pointed her wand at Ginny’s chest. The curse threw her against the wall and dropped her to the ground. It was a pain Ginny had never known was possible. Through the deafening pain she could hear screams coming from a body she no longer wanted. She was being stabbed over and over, everywhere. Her body writhed on the ground; it convulsed as she desperately wished for it to end. Her throat grew raw from her screams but still she continued, growing louder with the increasing pain. Why hadn’t she killed herself when she had the chance? She would take death over this pain. She would — It stopped. Ginny gulped air and struggled to breathe as her body shook on the ground. Sweat dripped from her body and tears streamed from her eyes. Why was she being tortured for something she didn’t remember? “Get up,” Pansy snarled, kicking Ginny in the side. “Come on, where’s your bravery now, Weasley?” Ginny cried out to the new pain. She tried to curl up in a ball, but Pansy kicked her again. But still Ginny’s body shook from the curse, and still she cried. Was her family tortured before their death? Did they still struggle to stand and fight? But what was the point anymore, Ginny thought. She was fighting every day to stay alive, but she wasn’t meant for a life in this new world. If she managed to get out alive today, what would tomorrow bring? And the next? She was meant to die with her family. A memory filled her mind so suddenly it stopped her tears. It was of Hermione before her death. She said, “Don’t be sad, Ginny. Death will set me free. But you … you still have more waiting for you. I know it.” She still had Draco. Ginny closed her eyes and pictured Draco. She knew it was too late; he couldn’t save her this time. But she would go out fighting like he will to avenge her death. He had done and sacrificed so much to get her this far. Ginny refused to die giving up on the floor. Despite her shaky arms protesting, Ginny slowly lifted herself to her knees, and then her feet. She rested her hands on her hips and keeled over slightly, catching her breath. She looked down at Pansy’s shoes tapping impatiently. “Pathetic,” Pansy said. “I have no idea what he ever saw in you. At first I thought it was to piss Potter off. But Draco still stuck around even after he killed your boyfriend.” Rage coursed through Ginny’s body. She grabbed her wand from her back pocket, pointed it at Pansy, and screamed — “Avada Kedavra!” A jet of green light filled the room and blinded Ginny. When she opened her eyes, Pansy was dead on the ground, her face forever frozen in shock. And in the door stood Draco, his chest heaving and his wand still pointing at Pansy. ~*~ You’d think after the long wait I’d be compassionate enough to not leave a cliffhanger, but that’s just not my style! Who is excited for the Harry Potter movie coming out?? Once again, thanks to everyone, and especially those who take the time to review. Much love, Liz21 22. Chapter Seventeen --------------------- Notes at the bottom. Enjoy! *Please note: My editor is very busy this week, so I tried to edit this myself. Please forgive me for any silly errors - I wanted to put this up as soon as possible since I've made everyone wait forever! Chapter Seventeen Ginny had seen the killing curse many times throughout the war. There was always the same flash of green light, followed by a rushing noise. Enemies and friends would both fall, their lives stolen in the blink of an eye. Up until being in Flint's manor, Ginny had seen these killings from a distance; Harry and her brothers would never let her fight, but they couldn't stop her from seeing the truth of war. Something she could never get over was the sight of a dead person — that a second ago they were fighting, breathing, trying to survive like the rest, and then they were gone. Murder was something that forever changed a person, whether it was through committing the act or witnessing it. She couldn't look at Pansy's body on the floor a foot away from her. Ginny had seen the shocked look on Pansy's face that would forever be frozen. It was the look of betrayal; that in Pansy's last second of life, she saw the horrible irony of being murdered by the one person she always stood by and risked everything for — all to save an enemy. That was why Ginny couldn't look at the body. She was too busy staring at Draco doing just that. Draco's chest was no longer heaving; he was still. His hand continued to clutch his wand, and his eyes didn't blink. It occurred to Ginny that Pansy was possibly the closest person to Draco to die since his mother. And he was responsible for both their ends. How did you comfort a murderer? A sound in the hallway made Ginny and Draco jump. Draco swung around and pointed his wand at the doorway, waited a moment, then checked the clearing. When he waved Ginny over with his free hand, she knew it was safe. “We need to get out of here,” Draco said. His eyes continued to search the hallway. Ginny stared at Draco. She knew he was a murderer. He was responsible for so many of her loved ones' deaths. She had killed before as well. If all she had known for the past few years was death, why was she having a hard time accepting what happened? Draco was about to take a step forward, but paused and looked back at her. He turned around and walked to her, and for a moment, Ginny was afraid. While he walked towards her, she saw a man who knew only hatred and death; a man who felt no regret or guilt, who did whatever he wanted for his own benefit. She saw a man who had killed his lifelong friend and showed no remorse. But when Draco cupped her cheek with his free hand, she felt her body calm a little. In the second she looked into his eyes, the fear was gone. He had the face and body of a murderer, but she saw something in his eyes that was so much more. “Are you all right?” Draco asked as he scanned her face and body for injuries. Ginny paused. Of course she was fine, she thought. Draco had saved her once again, despite what it cost him. How far would this go until Draco sacrificed everything for her? She wrapped her hand around his. “Are you?” In a moment, his look gazed over as it did while staring at Pansy's body. It was a mask Ginny had seen often during the war, one many people wore in an attempt to numb out any emotions or thoughts. Ginny knew then not to ask such questions; people fought but they didn't want to remember. Draco was still fighting after his side already won. How much could one man take? So many things were running through Ginny's mind. How did Draco know she was here? What had happened to him? Was he all right? Was Flint — “Flint is still here,” Ginny said, her wand out. “He was waiting for Pansy to be done.” “Let's go,” he said in response. Draco took her hand and, after Ginny was behind his back, they started to walk down the hallway with their wands out. Every time they passed a door, Draco muttered a spell under his breath, waited, than preceded onto the next one. Each step and each door hiked the anxiety in Ginny. She wanted to grab Draco and run to the front door, to escape danger, but she knew why he was searching every room. It was Draco's intent to find Flint and to kill him. “Are the wards back up?” Ginny whispered as she checked behind them. “Yes,” he said. He paused to check another room. “Pansy knew what she was doing.” Ginny stared at the back of Draco's head at the mention of Pansy's name and how it rolled off his tongue as if he didn't end her life. “She knew everything,” Ginny said. “About us. She knew everything.” Draco stopped walking. They stood in the dark hallway, with only the tip of their wands giving off light. Ginny could hear her heart beating. Why did she tell him that? When Pansy told Ginny she knew the whole truth of the secret relationship, Ginny questioned if Draco should know as well. Half of her knew he should, to show him that he wasn't invincible and despite his precautions and sacrifices, people could still find out about them. They were never truly safe. But that was the second half of her reasoning — to have him learn everything he worked for may one day be destroyed. Wasn't his plan already falling apart? How many people had died that weren't supposed to? Had he messed up the curse? How long did Draco plan for Ginny to fall back in love with him? Draco was silent. Ginny could see enough of him to know he was tensed up. “Then it's a good thing she's dead.” His words sent shivers down her body. The tone matched the looks in his eyes earlier — cold and heartless. Ginny slid her hand out of his; Draco didn't stop her. She knew he saved her life, dozens of times, and she was thankful. But how could she stand there, hear his words and see his actions, and just sit there and take it? She tried to rack her brain of memories of Draco before the war, for proof that he wasn't always a heartless murderer; that there was something in him much deeper and greater that would make her love him above all things. She knew she was with him during the war, when he had killed Lupin and others on her side. What did she see in him to make her look past his sins? What did she think of herself for falling in love with someone that went against everything she stood for? Without Draco's touch, Ginny was aware of how dark and terrifying the hallway was. Not of the shadows and creeks, but what could be waiting for her. She hated herself at that moment for judging Draco but needing him at the same time. Didn't that make her worse than him? “We're wasting time,” Draco muttered before he continued on his way. Ginny followed; it was no time to be stubborn, despite the mixed emotions running through her. Each door they passed, Ginny would be relieved and anxious. She didn't want to see Flint again; she couldn't see Draco murder another person. But if Flint didn't die, her and Draco's lives would be at risk. Ginny's thoughts paused. She knew that was Draco's motivation for everything — risk whoever and whatever, as long as she was alive in the end. Should she hate him for all he's done, or be thankful? They checked all the rooms to the stairs, and then stopped. “What if he left?” Ginny whispered. “Maybe he saw you and -” Draco shook his head. “If he saw me he would have attacked,” he said. He looked at Ginny. “Flint's life is about getting what he wants, and at that moment, it's you.” Ginny shuddered. “How did you know I was here?” She paused. She wanted to thank him, but couldn't. “Luna,” he said, making Ginny gasp. “She owled me, telling me she overheard their plan and you were in danger.” “Luna,” Ginny said. “Is she all right then? Where is she?” Ginny could hear the panic in her voice. The moment she knew she was set up, that Luna was not dying, she had forgotten about her. But now that death didn't face Ginny, Luna was all she could think about. She wouldn't put it past Flint and Pansy to hurt Luna. What if they caught her listening? What if Luna risked her life to save Ginny? “She said that if I succeed and saved you and killed Flint, to find her.” Ginny didn't need to hear anymore. “We need to go find her,” she said as she took a step away from Draco. “We need to -” Draco grabbed her arm and stopped her. “Didn't you hear me?” Draco said, squeezing her arm tighter when Ginny tried to pull away. “I can only find her *if* I kill Flint. He put a curse on her, Ginny. Flint knows you want to save her, so he made sure you could never go near her while he was still alive.” Ginny shook her head. “I don't -” “It's old magic ,” Draco said. He dropped Ginny's arm. “It's like a property charm — a way to keep what's yours out of the hands of others.” Ginny knew of such charms, but for items. Percy had put one on his belongings one summer — he had finally grown tired of the twins confiscating his books and hiding them or using them as props for their pranks. All that happened to Fred and George when they tried to grab Percy's stuff was a shock of pain — nothing bad, but it made them keep away. But that was for a book; what would the result be if it were on a human? “What does that mean for us?” Ginny asked. Draco stared at her and grabbed her arm again. “It means if we find her, Ginny, you must not go near her. Do you understand?” The sound in Draco's voice scared Ginny. His eyes were cold and his face was stern, but the desperation in his tone is what frightened her above everything. It was no longer about her mixed feelings for Draco, or confusion about their past. It was the war again; it was watching every step you took, knowing that if you weren't careful, it could be your last. Draco hesitated. “I want you to leave,” he said. “I cleared the path and we'll walk down those stairs together, but the second you're out of this house, you Apparate back to the manor and wait for me.” Ginny shook her head. “I'm not leaving now. Luna's here.“ “I said nothing can be done with her until Flint is dead,” Draco said. “This isn't safe, Ginny. I'm not leaving here until I find that bastard and you're not going to be here when that happens.” Anger rose higher in Ginny with every word that was spoken. “I'm in this fight, too,” Ginny said. “I'm the reason we're here, Draco. This is my fight. I'm going to finish what I started with Flint and save Luna.” Draco's grip tightened as Ginny's words sunk in. “You will do no such thing. You'll go home and wait for me.” Ginny had enough. She pulled her arm out of Draco's grip and pointed her wand at him. He stared at the wand, then her, stunned for a second before he could mask his face. “You can't protect me forever, Draco,” Ginny said. Her hand and voice were steady. “I know I've only made it this far because of you, but you can't always be there to save me.” Draco's face was clear, but Ginny could see the pain in his eyes. “You won't hurt me,” he said. It was more of a demand than a statement; a reminder of what he had done for her, and she owed him. Or maybe it was hope for whatever feelings she had for him; that the part of her that loved him in the past lingered through to the present. “Would I have before?” she asked, her wand rising to his face. “Would I have hurt you to help someone I loved?” Draco's face didn't change, but Ginny saw his wand hand, which was pointed to the ground, twitch. “You wouldn't,” Draco said. “That's not the kind of person I fell in love with.” Ginny stared at him, her face slackened. Despite all she knew up to that point of their past, hearing those words hit her harder than anything so far. He had said it before — that he loved her — but she told herself it was in a moment of passion. If it wasn't the words that unloosed her, it was Draco's tone. He was so certain with his words; he had no hesitation about them as she did. But he also had no reason to doubt. Ginny shook her head. “That's not fair,” she said. There were tears in her eyes at her frustration. “What was your plan, Draco? Did you expect me to just magically fall in love with you and be OK with everything? Did you think that I would wake up one day and remember?” Draco finally reacted. In a second, his serious face changed to being worried, and his mouth dropped open. “Ginny -” He tried to reach for her, but Ginny stopped him with her wand. “No, Draco,” she said. “Did it ever occur to you that I might never remember? That after the war and everyone I lost, that I might be a different person? That I may see you for who you are now, not as someone I had a schoolgirl crush on, but as a murderer and a Death Eater? That you may have sacrificed everything for nothing?” Draco's face tightened. “Every damn day. But I knew you then, and I know you now. You've had plenty of chances to hurt me, to even kill me. It doesn't matter if you love or hate me. It's about who you are, Ginny. You have too big of a heart to truly hurt someone. That's the Ginny I fell in love with.” Ginny's wand quivered. “I've killed someone before.” “It was an accident,” Draco said. “And you were a wreck when you told me.” “That's because I thought I lost you.” The words were out before Ginny knew what she was saying. Draco's eyes widened. “Did you just remember -” Ginny shook her head slowly. No, she didn't remember her past, or not in the way she had before. There was no jolt of pain or sudden visions that caused her to pass out. It was of her own memory, something that Draco couldn't touch. She remembered the day when she had killed a man, remembered thinking about it when she contemplated poisoning Draco when he was ill. She was out shopping with Harry, and suddenly they were under attack by Draco and his men. She remembered, by detail, Harry and Draco fighting, and her accidentally crushing a Death Eater's skull with a pot. That had been the focus of her memory when Ginny thought of what it took to kill a human, but now, with Draco in front of her, she saw the other side of her memory. She remembered seeing Draco fall to the ground, dead. She remembered the fear and the anguish that filled her at the sight of seeing him fall, not of the Death Eater who lay at her feet. And then she blacked out. “I thought Harry had killed you,” she said. Ginny lowered her wand. “That memory was about Harry — you couldn't take that. But … if I reacted like I did, that means you didn't tell me your plans that Zabini would pretend to be you to trick Harry. So I just put it together.” They stared at each other in silence, their argument slipping past. Draco seemed amazed, almost happy, that she had a connection to their past, minus the pain in trying to remember. But Ginny was starting to realize that after awhile, the memories wouldn't mean anything. It was her gut instinct — her heart — that spoke for her before she could rationalize it with her mind, the place that stored memories. All this time she wanted the missing pieces of the puzzle, when the entire puzzle stood before her. A noise from down the hall caused Ginny to jump and Draco to raise his wand. He pushed her behind him, and pointed his wand toward the darkness before them. “We've wasted too much time,” Draco said, his voice low. “Flint should have found Pansy's body by now.” Ginny could hear footsteps walking towards them. She squeezed her wand, prepared to fight, even though Draco was in her way. He was so close to her that she could feel his rapid heartbeat against her chest, but his body was still. She knew he was ready to fight; that Flint was no different from all the other people who got in his way. The figure emerged so suddenly from the darkness, that Draco and Ginny both paused. Ginny reacted a moment before Draco could, and she was able to break through the cocoon of his body and run past him to Luna standing before them. It was as if time slowed down. Ginny could feel every muscle moving as she ran to Luna; she could hear her heartbeat, and Draco yelling at her. Each step closer to saving her friend felt like an eternity, and it wasn't until Ginny reached her hand out to grab Luna did she see the look of terror on her friend's face. The moment Ginny touched Luna's arm, a blast erupted, and Ginny was thrown across the room. Her back hit the wall next to the stairs where Draco still stood, and she crumbled to the ground onto her side. The room was spinning, making it hard to focus on Draco who was leaning over her, his face white and his eyes huge. He kept on opening his mouth and saying something, but Ginny couldn't hear anything but a buzzing in her ears and the quickened beat of her heart. Ginny tried to wiggle her fingers but she couldn't move — it was as if her body was in shock and shut down. A red light flashed by them, catching Ginny's eyes and making Draco jump back. The room spun as Ginny looked down the hallway and saw Flint push Luna to the side with his wand. Ginny forced her eyes onto Draco, who resumed his position before her, as he shot a spell back at Flint. Spells and curses were thrown between the men, each blocking one after another. Several of Flint's came close to Ginny. She was in a daze. She could see what was going on, but it was as if she was watching a show on a muggle television. Slowly, the buzzing in her ears stopped and she was able to focus, but she still couldn't move. All she could do was keep her eyes on Draco, praying that he would win and save them all. His face was fierce; his hair hung in his sweaty face as he threw curses and blocked every one that came close to them. Chunks of plaster from the walls went flying; one spell was reflected off a chandelier, causing sparks to shower down on them. Ginny willed her body to move, for something to work so she could help Draco. Her eyes darted to her wand, which lay several feet from her underneath a pile of plaster, and then to Luna who was watching the scene from behind Flint. A spell knocked Flint off his feet. Before he could recover, Draco turned to her. “Are you OK?” he yelled as he reached out to her. Ginny tried to move her arm to reach out to him, and was able to wiggle her fingers. Draco waited a moment too long for her. A red light erupted, hitting Draco in his side. His body was thrown into the air, spinning several times before he hit the back wall, his head cracking against it. Ginny cried out as Draco's limp body fell to the ground. Then there was silence. “Draco!” Ginny gasped, her voice hoarse. Blood trickled down Draco's forehead and mouth; he didn't move or open his eyes. Ginny grunted as she forced her body to move towards him, and just as it was starting to respond, something sharp hit her stomach and she was on the ground in pain. Ginny coughed and groaned as she held her stomach, and only when she opened her eyes did she see Flint standing next to her. He kicked her again and knocked the wind out of her. Ginny struggled for her breath as Flint laughed. “I told you I'd get you,” Flint snarled and pointed his wand at her. When Ginny tried to move, Flint put his shoe on her chest, pushing her to the ground. “Now now,” he said, waving his wand in her face. “You are quite the struggle, aren't you Weasley? Makes me wonder what Malfoy saw in it all.” Ginny paused at Draco's name. Pansy had said that though she knew the truth about Draco and Ginny, she didn't tell anyone. But if Pansy found out, there was a chance other people did as well. And the more people who knew, the more Draco and her were in danger. “Everyone knew Malfoy hated you, and that he thought you were filth,” Flint said. “Yet he had your prison guarded, and took you home the second the Dark Lord allowed it. And there were rumors, naturally, of what he did to you in that manor, of how he showed you exactly what it means to be the enemy. And I believed every word of it until he attacked me at Pansy's ball. I know what's it like to be possessive, but there's a thin line between possession and obsession.” Ginny turned her gaze to Luna, who still stood in the hall behind Flint, unharmed. She watched the two, but with a still face. She made no recognition towards Ginny, or that Flint had his wand on her. “What did you do to her?” Ginny hissed. Flint looked at Luna and grinned. “She did that to herself,” Flint said. He looked back at Ginny. “I know it was her that wrote Malfoy — I figured it out only a moment too late for Pansy's good. She risked her life trying to save yours, and the only reason why I haven't killed her yet is because she's bearing my son. But I can still break her, Weasley. Just like I'm going to do to you.” Ginny clenched her teeth when she tried to move underneath Flint's foot, but he only pressed down harder. “I should have killed you when I had the chance,” she spat. Flint laughed again, as if it was all a game. “What, with that steak knife?” Flint said. “You can't kill me, Weasley. You can fight, but all it comes down to is I'm the one with the wand, and you're the one who lost long ago when yours was taken away.” Ginny caught herself before she reacted to Flint's words. He didn't know she had her wand — no one really knew except for Draco and Snape, and Pansy only saw it before she died. Ginny could almost feel her wand pulsating with magic a few feet away, hidden from Flint. “You should be thanking me,” Flint continued. “I went to Pansy after Malfoy attacked me instead of going to the Dark Lord.” Flint stopped and looked at Draco, who was still motionless. “Do you have any idea what the Dark Lord would have done to Malfoy if I turned him in? Pansy said she had her own business to take care of with you, so she convinced me to leave Malfoy out of it and just attack you. But now she's dead. Any idea what that business was?” Ginny paused, thinking quickly. She nodded and opened her mouth to speak, but coughed and started to struggle under Flint's boot, showing him that she couldn't breathe. For a split second, Ginny was terrified of the trick she was trying to pull on the devil himself — her suffocating may just be what Flint wanted, and he'd only press down harder on her chest. Flint didn't move, and when real panic started to set in, he took his foot off her chest. “Tell me,” Flint said, the smile wiped off his face. His wand pointed between her eyes. “What did Pansy want with you?” Ginny took several exaggerated breaths before she spoke. “She … she told me she was jealous. She said she wanted Draco all this time, and she couldn't stand that he would have me as his prisoner.” For a moment, Ginny thought Flint believed her. His face relaxed in deep thought, and his wand hand slackened. Ginny dared a glance at her wand and was about to lunge for it when she was suddenly lifted in the air and slammed against the wall. Ginny screamed at the impact but she didn't fall to the floor — she hung in midair, pinned against the wall. Flint stood before her, his wand on her, holding her there. He cocked his head to she side. “Do you really take me for a fool?” he said. “I don't doubt that Pansy still has a thing for Malfoy after all these years, but she would never admit to someone— to filth like you — that she was jealous. She would rather die than put you above her.” Flint flicked his wand to the left, and Ginny's left cheek was cut open. Ginny yelled in pain as she felt her skin tearing apart and blood dripping out. “That's what you get for lying,” Flint said. “Now, tell me what Pansy really said to you, Weasley, or I won't be so nice this time.” Ginny fought back painful tears. She looked behind Flint at Draco, who still lay motionless. How long had it been since he was knocked out? Why wasn't he waking up? What if he was —? Ginny looked below her and saw her wand beneath the plaster. There was nothing she could do, though. She had failed. Draco had saved her so many times; the one chance she got to repay the favor, she couldn't do it. She could question his motives and judge his character, but it came down to Draco coming through and saving her, and being the hero in the end. Her right cheek sliced open, and Ginny screamed again, louder, her pain echoing down the hallway. She prayed that she would wake Draco up — she prayed that he would save her because she didn't know how to save herself. She was nothing without him. “Not going to talk?” Flint said. Flint moved his wand a bit lower, and Ginny could feel pressure against her neck. “What about now? Don't think I still won't use you while your body is cold, Weasley.” Ginny's breath caught in her throat as she stared at the malice in Flint's eyes. It was no longer a joke to him. Ginny knew she could tell Flint the truth — she could tell him all about her secret past with Draco, and that he took her memories. She could tell Flint all the people Draco had betrayed and murdered, and that he was the real traitor. She could hand Draco in for herself, and maybe live through it all. Ginny looked at Draco. She would rather face death than betray him, even if it meant saving her own, because a life without him in it seemed pointless. It was then that Ginny knew she loved Draco. Ginny looked Flint in the eyes. “Go to hell,” she said, and spat in his face. Fury flashed through Flint's face. He squeezed his wand. Ginny looked at Draco one last time and closed her eyes. She felt the pressure increase against her throat, and just as she took her last breath, she heard a noise and she dropped to the ground. Ginny opened her eyes to Luna and Flint on the ground — Luna had knocked Flint over, and his wand was at their feet. Luna grabbed for the wand, but Flint kicked her in her stomach, making her scream in pain and fall limp. “No!” Ginny screamed. She dug her hand into the plaster next to her and grabbed her wand. Before Flint could grab his, Ginny pointed her wand at him and yelled, “Sectumsempra!” Ginny saw a glimpse of Flint's shocked face before it, along with the rest of his body, was slashed open thousands of times. Each slice in his body poured out more blood, and each time Ginny felt more hatred. She didn't blink until Flint's body was still on the ground in a pool of blood. Ginny rushed to Luna, pointed her wand, and said, “Rennervate.” Luna stirred slightly and opened her eyes, blinking at Ginny. Ginny almost laughed with joy at seeing Luna's clear blue eyes and expression — whatever curse Flint had put on her died with him. She finally had her friend back. But then Luna grabbed her pregnant belly and moaned loudly. Ginny's face paled at the image of Flint kicking Luna in the stomach. “We need to get you to Snape,” Ginny said. “No,” Luna gasped. “No, don't take me to him.” She struggled to breathe. Ginny shook her head. “No, Luna, he's good. He's on our side.” She looked at Draco. “Draco needs him also. I need to get you two back at Malfoy Manor now and -” “No!” Luna cried and clutched onto Ginny's arm, making her stop. “I don't want it,” she gasped, tears rolling down her face. “I don't want to bring a baby into this kind of world.” Ginny stared at Luna, watching in silence as Luna cried out and grabbed at her stomach. But Ginny couldn't think then — while Luna was moving, Draco wasn't. “We need to go,” Ginny said. “Can you walk? Just to the gates.” Luna glanced at Draco, and then nodded. With Ginny holding onto her arm, Luna was able to stand with a small struggle. Ginny conjured a stretcher for Draco, and used her wand to lift him onto it. She gasped aloud when she saw the stain of blood against the wallpaper where his head was. They hurried to the gates as fast as they could, Luna panting and crying as she moved, and Ginny trailing Draco on the stretcher behind her. The second they were outside of Flint's manor, Ginny apparated them to Malfoy Manor. Within fifteen minutes of her owl, Snape was there with a potions bag. The whole fifteen minutes she had to wait for him, though, Ginny was torn on who should be helped first — Luna or Draco. Luna's face was sweating and she was pale, but when she caught Ginny kneeling over Draco's stretcher and brushing back his hair, Luna made her swear that Draco would be helped first. “He's the reason we're both here, Ginny,” Luna said, panting. “He may be a Malfoy, but we owe him our lives.” So when Snape arrived, Ginny directed him to Draco. It pained her to watch her friend get worse, but it hurt even more that Ginny was thankful that Luna had a bigger heart than she if it meant saving Draco. Ginny was thankful Snape didn't ask questions and got right to work. He rolled Draco over and examined the wounds, then dug through his potion bag and took out a vial. He had Ginny hold Draco up as Snape poured one of the vials down his mouth. “To close and clean the wounds,” Snape said. “A bit longer and he could have bled to death.” “Will he be all right?” Ginny asked as she laid Draco back down. Even though all she had known her whole life was magic, it still amazed her how a near-disaster could be fixed in a second. Snape scanned Draco's body and whispered “Reparo” a few times. “A few broken ribs and a concussion.” Once everything was stiched up and fixed, Snape pointed his wand at Draco and said, “Rennervate.” Draco didn't react as quickly as Luna did, but before too much dread could fill Ginny's body, he groaned and opened his eyes. Ginny leaned over him and grabbed his hand. She could see the confusion in his face, and was expecting him to ask where they were or what happened. But when the first thing Draco asked was if she was OK, all Ginny could do was cry. After everything he had been through, she was still the first thing on his mind. Ginny just helped Draco sit up when Luna's screams broke out. She rushed over to the couch where Luna lay with Snape at the end. Ginny let out a cry when she saw the bloody stains on Luna's dress, and grabbed her friend's hand tightly. It was when Luna squeezed back did Ginny realize she was pushing. Draco had snapped for the house elves to get water and towels, but before they could do anything, Luna gave one more exasperated yell and then grew limp. Ginny held her breath in the deafening silence, waiting for a cry from the small baby that Snape caught in his hands. Was it all right? Was it born too soon? What if - A small cry rang through the air. Relief rushed through Ginny, but she paused and looked at Luna's tearful face. The baby had survived, but Luna had said herself she didn't want to bring a child into such a world. “It's a girl,” Snape said. Only then did Ginny realize the tears Luna was crying were of joy. Everything that Flint had done to her was for his want of a son as his heir. But now Flint was dead, and there was no son that Luna would fear would grow into his father one day. She had a healthy, beautiful girl that Ginny prayed would be like her mother in everyway. Snape wrapped the baby in a towel a house elf provided, and handed the infant to Luna, who couldn't take her wide eyes off the baby. “I think it's best that I take them under my care for awhile,” Snape said. “With premature births, it's best to keep an eye on the mother and baby.” Snape must have seen the hesitance in Ginny's face. “I assure you, Miss Weasley, my place is perfectly safe. I have several hidden rooms that Miss Lovegood and her child will go unnoticed.” Ginny glanced at Luna and her baby, and then at Snape. She had no choice but to nod. If something happened to either of them, only Snape had the knowledge to help. Snape nodded back and went to gather his potion bag. After he took out a vial for Luna to regain her strength, he said, “Draco, may I have a word with you?” Ginny froze at Snape's tone. It brought her back to years of being his student — it had the same authority and fierceness that someone was in trouble and about to be punished. Draco glanced at Ginny, but she quickly busied herself with Luna and pretended to not notice. After she helped Luna take her medicine, she glanced over her shoulder at Snape and Draco, who were across the room, head to head and whispering. She couldn't hear a word they said, but she didn't need to. Ginny knew that even though Luna and her baby were safe, terrible things were to come. There were two Death Eaters murdered tonight, and someone was bound to find out. “I think I'm going to name her after my mother,” Luna said, breaking Ginny from her thoughts. “She died when I was 9, but I think she'd really like that.” Ginny looked at Luna, and then the baby. It was hard to think of what was to come while looking at something so small and innocent. It was even harder to think that despite how happy Luna looked, Ginny feared for her and her baby. Luna may have been right on not bringing a child into the world. Ginny forced a smile on her face and squeezed Luna's shoulder. “I think so, too,” she said. She looked over to Draco, who was staring at her with the same look of worry and fear. Their fate was catching up to them, and Ginny didn't know how much longer they could fight it off. ~*~ Aaaaaahhhhh. This was, by far, the hardest chapter I've ever written. As you can tell, it took months. And hours upon hours of me staring at the screen and just being stuck. Lots of things have happened since I stared this chapter: I was busy baking a tiered wedding cake in September (first time ever, and holy crap is it a lot of work!). In October my grandpa died. In November, I was stuck in the overwhelming stress that journalism provides (and horrible bosses who don't know what a deadline is). But December is my month — I can feel it! Let's put it this way - it took from August to November to write 8 pages. I just wrote the remaining 6 in three hours. Woot! There are three chapters left (that's the plan, anyways). It would be ideal to get another chapter in before the holidays, but of course, no promises. But I know I will NEVER make you guys wait this long again. Thank you so, so much to all my faithful readers. I can't express how much you guys mean to me. I read your comments so many times as motivation and inspiration. I know that when this story is done, I'm printing out every comment and saving it for future stories. You guys are the reason I'm writing this. Much love, Liz21 --> 23. Chapter Eighteen -------------------- Mind the poor editing - I skimmed through it quickly. I figured the faster I got it to you guys, the happier you would be. Comments at the end. ~*~ Chapter Eighteen Draco and Harry were fighting — again. Ginny watched along the edge of the corridor with a crowd of Hogwarts students. It was during a sudden break when the professors were having an important meeting, so there was no saying how long the fight would last before it was broken up. Ginny had shown up just as Draco hit Ron in the face with a spell, giving him a bloody, broken nose. She watched her brother a few feet away from Harry, blood on his face and anger in his eyes. Hermione stood next to him, holding his arm and no doubt begging him to stay back and not get involved. Ginny had no idea who or what started the fight, but all she could do was try to hide in the crowd and hoped to go unnoticed. Ginny watched as Draco and Harry stood in the center, their wands out and their faces ugly with hatred. A few months ago, Ginny would have jumped in and fought alongside Harry, or rushed to her brother to help him. But things have changed — everything was complicated now. Ginny didn't know where she stood, or who she was anymore. It was easier to sink back and hide. Everything was much easier if she didn't have to face the truth. “Take it back, Potter,” Draco hissed. Ginny cringed at the tone of his voice - how different it sounded when he spoke to the people she loved, versus when they were alone. When Harry hesitated, Ginny knew that he had started the fight. It was easy enough to tell - when Draco started it, he didn't hold back. Harry had more of a conscious though, and no matter how angry he could get, guilt would sink in. But he was also stubborn. Maybe if it were just the two, he would step back. But with his best friend injured and a crowd watching, Ginny knew the only person who could get him to stop was her, and the idea tore her apart. In the beginning, she still stuck to Harry's side and pretended Draco didn't exist. But now she didn't know that if she stopped Harry, if it would be for his benefit or Draco's. “Why should I, Malfoy?” Harry snapped. “After years of you making fun of my dead parents, why should I?” Ginny's heart sank. Of course it would be about Lucius. His death was the only time anyone had seen a weakness in Draco. She would never forget the look on Draco's face when he, along with the rest of Hogwarts, found out that his father was killed. Something in him crumbled, and to Harry and Ron, it was an easier way to attack someone who once believed he was unbreakable. Draco responded to Harry's question by raising his wand and slashing it through the air, sending a red spark at Harry. Harry easily reflected the spell. “You're getting sloppy, Malfoy,” Harry said. “Something on your mind?” For that moment, Ginny hated Harry. She knew he couldn't always be the bigger person, and that he was human and felt hatred, too. But she had hoped that in the category of dead parents, Harry would feel an ounce of sympathy for someone who just lost one, despite who it was. But what Harry was doing now was one example of many that she had seen since everything changed. In the beginning, Harry was a hero to her - almost godlike who never did wrong. Before, no matter what he did or what he said, she convinced herself he was always right. Though now that she had been to the other side, things looked different. She could see the malice on his face, which made him ugly. She could see how he was far from perfect, and at times very selfish. And Draco … He still had his Malfoy glare and scowl, and every part of him displayed how much he hated Harry. But Ginny could see something else in his face that set him apart - pain. Students were whispering and scuffling behind her. Ginny turned around and saw Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall walking quickly towards the crowd. Through the rush to move out of the way, a student from behind pushed Ginny forward and she found herself exactly where she didn't want to be — in-between Draco and Harry. It happened too fast. Just as Ginny was pushed, Draco shot a spell at Harry. In the moment before it hit her chest, she watched as Draco's face turned from hatred, to surprise, to agony. The spell hit her with an overwhelming force, knocking her back several feet into Harry's arms. In the haze of it all, Ginny saw Ron run across the circle and throw himself at Draco. Sparks shot out above the group, and students scattered as Snape and McGonagall made their way through. It took the two of them to get Ron off Draco, and when he did, Ginny had to stop from crying at the sight of Draco's face. “How dare you take advantage of us being gone to start a petty fight,” McGonagall yelled. “What is going on here?” There was silence. Ginny had known it was Harry who started the fight; she was certain about that now. “Malfoy attacked Ginny,” Harry answered. If Ginny wasn't sore from the hit, she would have turned around and stared at Harry in disbelief. Of course, in Harry's eyes, it was an attack. He didn't see — and would never see — the look of sadness on Draco's face when the spell hit Ginny. But what about the other half of the story that involved Harry harassing Draco about his dead father? McGonagall stared at Ginny on the ground, and then at Draco. “Is this true, Malfoy?” Ginny tried to avoid eye contact with Draco. She didn't want him to see her in Harry's arms. She looked at Ron, who was glaring a foot away from Draco, and Hermione, who was staring at Draco, and then Ginny and Harry. There were no students left as witnesses to the fight. The stage was set, and it wasn't in Draco's favor. When Draco didn't answer, Ginny finally looked at him. He was standing, looking down at her and Harry. His right eye was swollen, and his cheek was cut; there was blood in the corner of his mouth and dripping down his nose. But it was his eyes — those gray eyes that Ginny could never get out of her head — that looked to be in the most pain. “Yes,” was all that Draco muttered. Ginny watched as he was led away by Snape. Ginny tried to protest, not knowing what she would even say, but Harry wouldn't let her move. Despite her telling him she wasn't hurt, she was forced by McGonagall to go to the infirmary, where Madam Pomfrey brought her to an empty bed near her office. The room was nearly empty, except for one bed in the back corner with its curtain hiding the person from view. “I'm fine, really,” Ginny said. “Ron's more hurt than me.” Her brother shrugged, but one look at Ron and Madam Pomfrey had him sit in the bed next to Ginny. She told them she had to go get supplies, and went to her office, muttering something about troublemakers ruining her quiet afternoon. Harry sat down on Ginny's bed. “Are you okay?” he asked, grasping her hand. Ginny's immediate reaction was to pull her hand away. It felt wrong for him to touch her, as if he was a foreign object against her skin. Ginny pushed the feeling aside, reminding herself yet again that Harry was her boyfriend, the person she was so supposed to be with — the person she was supposed to want to touch her. But even as she let Harry touch her and forced a smile on her face, she knew she was the worst person in the room. Ginny nodded. “I'm really fine. Malfoy barely hit me.” Even to say his last name felt odd on her lips. Harry nodded in agreement and took his hand away. “He has been getting sloppy lately. Something big on his mind is distracting him.” Harry looked at Ron and Hermione while he spoke, and all three of them shared a secret glance that Ginny had grown to hate years ago. Ginny had learned to let them go off on their adventures without her, but she had new reasons to be paranoid about what they were stirring up in their minds. “Do you think something is going on?” Ginny asked. “Something with Lucius' death?” Before Harry could tell her not to worry about it, footsteps caused the four to jump and look to the back of the room. They froze as Snape left the cocoon of the drapes from the last bed — Ron, Harry, and Hermione from realizing they were overheard, and Ginny from knowing who was in that bed. The room was quiet as Snape made his way to them. He stopped at the foot of Ginny's bed, and his eyes darted to Madam Pomfrey's office to Harry. “If I were you, Potter,” he spoke, his face bitter at saying Harry's name, “I'd watch what I'd say around others more carefully. You have no idea what kind of … trouble you can be creating for yourself.” Harry's face darkened. “Don't worry, sir,” Harry said. “I've always been good with handling trouble.” Madam Pomfrey emerged from her office, holding potion bottles and gauze. Snape didn't say another word, but made a point of staring at each Gryffindor before leaving the room. When his eyes met Ginny, she shivered and forced herself to look away. Sometimes, when that man looked at her, Ginny felt he could see into all of her secrets, and that he was searching for one in particular. Ron was easy enough to heal - just a swish of the wand and a small grunt of pain, and his nose popped back in place. Madam Pomfrey gave him a tissue to clean up the blood while saying that the next time he came in with another stupid injury, she was going to let him heal the Muggle way. “And what's wrong with you, dear?” Madam Pomfrey said, turning her attention to Ginny. Harry didn't give her the chance to speak. “Malfoy hit her with a spell,” he said. “We don't know what one, but she was pushed over.” When Madam Pomfrey nodded, Ginny saw her eyes dart to the hidden bed. “I'm sure it was a simple defensive spell - just knocks your opponent off their feet. No harm really. Have any odd feelings, Miss Weasley? Any unexplained soreness other than falling on your bum?” Ginny shook her head. “I feel fine. Really, it was nothing.” “Should she stay overnight?” Ron asked. “I don't trust that weasel Malfoy. He did something to her, I know it.” Madam Pomfrey hesitated. They both knew Ginny was fine, and Ginny was about to tell her that when she paused as well. Madam Pomfrey was still holding onto the gauze, and her eyes continued to dart over to Draco's bed, as if she had more important work to do then entertain a few students. Dread filled her stomach. Just how injured was Draco? “Ron's right, I should stay,” Ginny blurted out before she thought about what she was doing. “I'm just … really tired and a bit sore. I could use the rest.” Ron looked pleased at her cooperation, but Hermione hesitated. Ginny froze when Hermione glanced at the back of the room, but she looked back at Ron and shrugged her shoulders. “I'm sorry you had to get in the middle of that,” Harry said. He grasped her hand again and squeezed it. Ginny squeezed his hand back. Though she stopped herself from crying as Harry kissed her on the cheek before he left the room with Ron and Hermione, she couldn't stop the shame from spreading through her body. Madam Pomfrey had her change into a pair of pajamas in the privacy of her curtained bed while she “helped out another patient.” Ginny put on the large pajamas, and stuck her wand in the side pocket. When she was done, she opened the curtains and watched Draco's bed for any movement or noise. When Madam Pomfrey came out, Ginny jumped into bed but the nurse saw her looking. “It's all right, dear,” she said. “Your brother did a number on him, but not enough to get in too much trouble. Probably just a few detentions. Now, I'm going down for some dinner. Will you be all right for an hour? I'll bring up yours as well when I'm finished.” Ginny nodded and stayed in her bed for several minutes after Madam Pomfrey left the room, closing the doors behind her. Ginny couldn't move, could barely breathe, until she knew no one was going to open those doors and surprise her. Then, very carefully, she walked barefoot to the end of the room, her small feet making the only noise. She paused at the curtains of Draco's bed and looked over her shoulders once more at the closed doors. She parted the curtains with her hand, walked into the opening, and dropped the curtains that hid her and Draco from the world. Draco was sleeping. He didn't look as bad as Ginny had built in her mind. His eye was still swollen, though Madam Pomfrey fixed most of the bruising. There was gauze over his cheek where he was cut, and his nose looked to have the same tenderness that Ron's had. Ginny breathed a sigh of relief, and then turned toward the curtains. She told herself that she just had to check to make sure he was okay, and that was it. To be there otherwise was to show that she was in a lot deeper than she had ever planned. “Wait.” Ginny froze, her hand on the curtain and her back to Draco. She had been caught, but didn't she want that? Didn't she want to be alone with Draco after seeing his face filled with agony when he hit her? It was the biggest sign of emotion he had given her since they first slept together months ago, when he was broken after his father's death. Since then, he played it as a cat and mouse game. He would treat her like the Weasley he hated during school hours when others were around, and sometimes she bought his act so well, she thought he was tired of her. But every night, he still came to her. Every time he wanted to touch her, to hold her. No matter what he said to her during the day, at night it was as if he couldn't get enough of her, that he was under some spell. Some nights they were rough with each other — he would bend her over a teacher's desk and take her, or pin her against a corner in a secret passageway. But though his hands were rough and his thrusts were hard, it was his eyes that held tenderness. He was trying to get her out of his system, but he knew it couldn't be done. Ginny squeezed the curtain, willing herself to leave and come back at night, when they were supposed to be together. The days were getting harder. In the beginning, she ignored what had happened between them, and played along with his games. At first, it was even exciting; it was rebellious and dangerous and there was a thrill in sneaking around and having a secret. But now, she noticed she was thinking about him more during classes, and it was harder not to look at him during breaks. She was constantly aware of him being near her, of his eyes on her, but as long as the sun was out, Ginny had to play a game. At first, she felt she was lying to herself during the night by being with Draco. But now, she only felt right in the dark, and that the person she was during the day wasn't her anymore. Ginny let go of the curtain and of any reasoning she had left in her. She turned to Draco, and welcomed the rush of emotion she felt when his eyes met her. All it took was one glance and thoughts and guilt of Harry and her family washed away. Draco's eyes darted to the curtains. “Madam Pomfrey left for dinner,” Ginny answered. “She won't be back for an hour.” “And Potter?” Ginny looked at the ground. Draco didn't use Harry against her like she thought he would. Before she worried Draco only wanted her as a form of payback to his enemy. But it still stung every time her lover mentioned her boyfriend's name. She didn't need the reminder of what she was doing. Ginny walked to the side of his bed. “Off plotting something with Ron and Hermione, I'm sure.” She stood next to him but made no movement to get closer. “What did he say to you?” Draco broke eye contact and looked ahead. “The same old stuff — Potter thinking some evil plan is building, and only he can save the day.” “And your father?” Normally, they wouldn't talk about such serious matters. When it began, they didn't do much of talking at all — they would be together, then Ginny would run off before the regret would settle in. But by time, she would stay longer afterwards, and he would hold her as they talked. And sometimes they wouldn't sleep together at all. That's when Ginny knew she was really in trouble, when it wasn't all about sex. “That I'm filling the role that he was killed for.” Ginny didn't say anything. Draco's face was tight with emotion, and his blonde hair hung in his eyes. The one thing they never talked about was the war and the events leading up to it. She didn't know if Draco had a part in it, and she didn't want to. Sometimes, ignorance was bliss. To fill the silence, she sat on the edge of the bed and moved a blonde strand out of his eye. He watched her every move; he was always watching her, and the feeling was intoxicating. When she pulled her hand away, he grabbed and pulled her closer until she was leaning over him, her mouth inches from him. “I don't want to mourn over him anymore,” he said, his voice a whisper off his lips and onto Ginny's. “You're the only one I want to feel for.” Ginny stared at him in silence. It was the closest thing he had said to her that put a label on what they were. She leaned down to kiss him when she heard a door open. Ginny froze and looked at Draco; both their eyes were wide, and he had lost color from his face. They had been so careful for months. Ginny had let her guard slip — she was weakened when she saw Draco injured, and ignored they were in a public room during the day, where anyone could walk in and discover their secret. “Ginny?” It was Hermione's voice. Fear sunk into Ginny so deep, she was too paralyzed to move. She looked around as the footsteps got closer to the bed, but there was nowhere to go. They were trapped in the mistake they made. Ginny looked at Draco. Was this all about to end? She knew that it should never have began — that a Weasley and a Malfoy were not meant to be together, and thus nothing good would ever come from it. If anyone else had walked in on them, Ginny may have been able to trick them - convince them she was finishing what her brother started, or that she was spying for Harry. But Hermione was too smart. Ginny saw her looking at Draco's bed earlier, and how quiet Hermione had been about anything regarding Draco around Ginny lately. Hermione knew something was happening, and that's why she came back. Ginny and Draco were about to be discovered, and no amount of friendship through Hermione would overshadow the loyalty she had towards Harry and Ron. Ginny would be out casted; she would be shown for who she truly was — a liar and a betrayer — and even her mother would look at her as Malfoy's whore. The footsteps paused. “Ginny?” Hermione asked, hesitantly, before her path towards them continued. Draco sat up tensely with his eyes on the curtains. Ginny could see Hermione's outline on the other side of the white sheet. Ginny quietly stood up from Draco's side. Despite her own fears, it was Draco she was worried about. She would forever be tainted, but she would still have a home to come to, and food on her plate. But Draco … she didn't want to think about what his mother or friends would do at knowing what he had done with the enemy. She was truly thankful his father was dead. She knew what he would have done at learning his son and only heir was with a Weasley. The curtains opened to Hermione, who stared at them with a shocked face. No one moved or spoke; Hermione stared at Draco and Ginny in horror, her arm weakening and her wand lowering to the ground. “Ginny,” Hermione finally whispered, shaking her head. “With Malfoy?” Even though it was hopeless, Ginny spoke. “Hermione, it's not what you think -” “It's exactly what I think,” the curly-haired girl interrupted. “I know you've been acting odd for months — randomly disappearing for hours, and keeping to yourself. You've been growing distant from everyone. You've been growing apart from Harry. Ginny … I thought it was the diary all over again. I thought something horrible was happening, so I started paying more attention to you. Hermione paused. “And the more I was watching you, Ginny, the more I realized someone else was, too.” The silence between the three was an acknowledgement that there was no backing out of what was being said. Draco did watch Ginny; she realized it herself before anything happened between them. How long would they have lasted before another pair of eyes was involved? “So what then, Granger?” Draco asked. His eyes narrowed. “You run off and dutifully report everything to Potter and Weasley like a good little Mudblood?” Ginny cringed at his harsh words. If there was ever a time that Draco had to bite his tongue, it was now. She had never expected Draco to suddenly like her friends, but to cut them down while Ginny was associated with him made everything look worse. How could she prove to Hermione that there was a different side of Draco that only she knew, when Draco showed no sign of it? Anger filled Hermione's eyes, but she pointed them at Ginny. “How could you?” she asked, her voice saddened. “Have you forgotten what his father did to you with the diary? Did you ignore all the times he's beaten Ron, or harassed Harry? Ginny — he's the enemy. One day he'll be a Death Eater, and it will be his job to kill you.” Ginny shook her head, tears collecting in her eyes. “You don't know that.” “I do know you'll break Harry's heart,” Hermione said. “You're the first person he let himself truly love, and all this time you've been sleeping with his enemy. Don't you think he's been through enough? It will break him, Ginny, but he needs to know. He needs to know who you really are.” Hermione backed away, and Ginny knew if she let her leave, it would be over. Everything was at stake — Harry's feelings, Ron's love. Ginny's life would forever change, but Draco's would be ruined. She couldn't change the past and she couldn't correct her mistake, but she could make it go away. “I'm sorry, Hermione,” Ginny said. Before Hermione could react, Ginny pulled her wand out of her pajamas and yelled, “Obliviate!” ~*~ Ginny woke up gasping for air and clutching the blankets to her chest. She wildly looked around the dark room, looking for the hospital beds and Hermione. It took a moment to gather her surroundings and her thoughts when she realized it was all a dream, or rather, another memory. Her chest was pounding and her head hurt. It had been the most detailed one yet. Sun was pouring through the windows, which meant she had slept for too long, as if she was reliving the memory and playing it out minute by minute. Ginny paused and sat up, still clutching the blankets to her chest. Every part of her screamed that it was not a memory, but a dream — a nightmare after what happened at Flint's manor the day before. And she could have passed it off as so, or blamed it on the sleeping potion Draco had her take. But Ginny knew that almost every dream she has had since she entered Malfoy Manor had been a glimpse of her past with Draco. What Ginny couldn't believe was that this memory showed a side of herself that she didn't know existed — she had cursed a loved one for Draco's sake. Ginny had used the same spell on Hermione that Draco had used on her. What kind of person did that make Ginny? How is it, that after all this time of hating Draco for taking her memories, for thinking of how horrible and cruel he was, that she had once done the same? They had both done it for the same reason — out of protection and love. Neither Ginny nor Draco wanted what they had to end. Somewhere along the way, what started off a teenage lust and rebellion turned into something so fierce, that Ginny was afraid of herself at the moment. She had erased Hermione's memory and killed Flint the night before for Draco. It was clear to Ginny that the love she had for Draco was as unhealthy as his love for her. How could love be a good thing if both people would go as far as killing others to save it? Ginny's hands relaxed around the blankets. She wondered if she would deny that she loved Draco, now that death didn't look her in the face. But when she never felt the shock or guilt of taking another life, she knew it was because to her, it wasn't wrong. It came down to either Flint or Draco dying, and everything in her body screamed to save the one person she cared most about, no matter the cost. It must have been how people got through the war. Ginny remembered the dazed look on Harry's face after his first kill, but he pushed through and kept fighting. She knew in those situations, you had to dig deep for that one reason that was worth going through hell and back. For Harry, it was to kill Voldemort. For Ginny, it was to save Draco. All this time, Ginny thought Draco had been the one to make the sacrifices for her. He had murdered, and he had lied. He betrayed his friends and family, and risked his own life. He took her memories to protect her. All these sacrifices tore at Ginny with guilt and confusion. She was stuck between feeling grateful for what he had done, and hating him for the evil and obsession that seeped through him. Ginny had hated him for being her savior, and for relying on him for the truth of what really happened between them. But now she knew that Draco was playing a role in their relationship that she had played as well. His obsession was not one-sided, and neither were his sacrifices. Ginny knew she loved Draco, before the war and after. But, after everything they had been through to stay together, it was as if fate was against them. They fought, they lied, they killed, all for love, but a victory would never truly happen in the world they lived in. A Malfoy and Weasley were never meant to be together, Ginny thought, no matter how much they fought against it. Ginny paused over her thought, pondering where she had heard a similar remark before. Then it hit her with a rush of hope as she jumped out of bed, pulled on her robe, and ran into the hallway. There was one person who may be able to help her and Draco's situation, because he had been in the exact one decades ago — Addion Malfoy. She was careful to be quiet as her bare feet ran down the stairs and turned to the first main hallway on the right in search of Addion's portrait. She didn't know what time it was, or what Draco was doing, but knew she had to keep her plan a secret. Ginny wondered if Draco knew of Addion, a Malfoy who had once, long ago, fallen in love with a Weasley, and that there love ended in death. If Addion was right, and there was a horrible ending waiting for them, she refused to have Draco know it after everything he had done to get them this far. Draco had kept worries and secrets to himself for her sake, and she would do the same. Ginny continued down the portrait-filled hallway, turning left and right at random in search for the man who looked just like Draco. It seemed ages ago when she came across it in search of Narcissa Malfoy's portrait. But then she was in denial of her feelings about Draco, and didn't take Addion's warning to heart. Now, it rang in her ears with dread. When she finally found the portrait, Ginny hesitated. Addion was sleeping, his blonde hair still pulled back into a ponytail. It was frightening how much he looked like Draco, only several years older before he met his death because he loved a Weasley. Is this how Draco's life would end? Would he be lucky to live to Addion's age? Now that she stared at the Malfoy, Ginny didn't know if she wanted to hear the truth. Last night, two Death Eaters were murdered and Luna was rescued. How long would it be until the trail traced back to Draco? Shouldn't she just enjoy the little time they had left together instead of desperately finding ways to make it last? But for all she knew, Draco was doing the same as her — fighting against their fate. They hadn't come that far to give up, and she would not put his efforts to waste. Ginny cleared her throat, causing Addion to stir in his sleep. It took a moment for him to open his eyes and focus on Ginny's own, but she patiently watched as his confusion grew to familiarity. “Miss Weasley,” he said with a nod of his head. It hurt Ginny to hear the love embraced around her surname. “What do I owe to this visit?” Addion's warning was clear in her head and found its way onto her lips. “You told me before,” Ginny said, “that it was forbidden for a Malfoy and a Weasley to be together, or the punishment was death. Who killed you, Addion? Who wouldn't let you and Maitane Weasley be together?” Sadness filled Addion's face. “I had hoped history would not repeat itself,” he said. “You are not here out of curiosity, are you?” Ginny shook her head. “Addion, I need to know if there's some sort of curse — something actually keeping Malfoys and Weasleys apart. I … I need to know if we can change our fate.” Addion didn't speak for a moment. “There is no need for a curse, Miss Weasley. My father was always a selfish, evil man. He stole Weasley's wealth and started the family feud. But Maitane's father … he changed the day his wife died. He knew that that couldn't afford a doctor for her because of my father stole his money. And with Maitane being his only daughter, he did everything in his power to keep her safe and to ruin the Malfoys. He became crazed over the idea. So when he caught me with Maitane …” “He killed you,” Ginny whispered. “Maitane's father killed you?” Addion nodded. “A Malfoy stole, but a Weasley murdered. He was put to death, but the hatred continued through his sons, and their sons. My father, so I was told, bore another son at his older age, just to pass on the family feud.” Addion was silent, but Ginny knew there was more to the story. “And Maitane?” Ginny regretted asking about his love's fate. She could see the despair in Addion's eyes, but knew he would not cry — a Malfoy couldn't cry. “She took her own life,” Addion said. “From this day, I am filled with the guilt of my love for her, that it was too strong to deny. Through my love was her death.” Tears filled Ginny's eyes and fell onto her cheeks. She shook her head. “If she was anything like me,” Ginny said, “she wouldn't have regretted it. She would have been thankful to have a love so great, that even death could not stop it.” Addion nodded. “Then that is your answer, Miss Weasley. There is no need for a curse between Malfoys and Weasleys, because it is built into society that such a relationship should never happen. Sides and enemies were made long ago. But if you feel your and Draco's love can conquer death, then only in that will you two win.” Ginny felt her body go numb. She knew there was no answer to her and Draco's path — she didn't even know the question. She wanted to find hope for them, but knew it was pointless. Addion was right. Ginny and Draco could continue to fight each person that crossed their paths, but where there was one, there were five more to take their place. But beyond all those people, there was one person Ginny was terrified of learning how deep Draco's betrayal went — Voldemort. How could they defeat the person who killed Harry? “Don't worry yourself with the future,” Addion spoke softly. “It tore me apart, and in the end I still met my doom. If only I had used that wasted time with Maitane, it would have been worth it.” Ginny nodded, mumbled thanks for, and slowly found her way back to the main staircase. Ignorance was bliss. She would gladly take any physical pain then the mental and emotional hurt she felt at knowing there could never be a happy ending for her and Draco, not while Voldemort and his followers were still alive. And if Harry and all her loved ones had died trying to kill him, her and Draco were hopeless. A clock chimed noon, and she was suddenly aware that she was standing in the main foyer with only a silk robe on. She crossed her arms over her chest self-consciously and made it up the stairs to her room. She quickly threw on a plain dress and sandles, too anxious to shower. After her talk with Addion, all she wanted to do was see Draco. Ginny left her room and headed for Draco's study, hoping to find him there. The door was partially closed, and Ginny was about to enter it when a voice stopped her. She studied the door and noticed a green light gleam off the edges — he was talking through Floo Powder. Draco's voice carried into the hallway. “Yes, Crabbe, I heard the news. Snape owled me earlier. Are there any suspects?” Ginny froze. It had already reached the Death Eaters that Flint and Pansy were dead. And if someone as low as Crabbe was telling Draco, then that meant everyone knew. “Well, that Lovegood girl is gone,” Crabbe said slowly. “Nowhere to be found. Word is she got Flint's wand and killed the poor bastard. Cuts all over his body.” “Don't be an idiot, Crabbe,” Draco hissed. “You remember seeing her at the ball — she was ready to pop. How could a woman that pregnant be able to move quick enough to not only steal the wand, but murder two people who are trained killers?” Ginny's stomach sank at his words, but she knew Draco was outsmarting Crabbe and everyone else. If he went against the obvious and sourced his own information, he was pushing it further away from him. To agree too quickly with whatever was given to him was signing his own death wish. There was a pause. “But Millicent said-” “You tell her what I said,” Draco said. “Lovegood can't be far from Flint's. Keep looking.” “But, we already did -” “Find her,” Draco snapped. “And when you do, show that bitch what it means to kill one of us.” As soon as the green light was gone, Ginny walked into the room as Draco turned from the empty fireplace. She must have taken Draco by surprise, because he was a moment too late to cover the exhausted worry in his face. “They already know?” Ginny asked. Draco started at her for a moment before he walked over to the bar in the corner of the room and made a drink. “Of course,” Draco said with his back to her. “Are you surprised? We did win the war, after all. Needless to say we're a bit on top of these things.” Something in her turned cold when Draco referred to the enemies as if he belonged to them, as if he didn't realize that he was fighting against them as well. “Then how long until they discover that Luna had no part in it?” “They won't,” Draco said simply as he turned around and took a drink. “Snape has Luna hidden too well, so they can't find her and torture the information out of her. And they have zero reason to believe that we had anything to do with Pansy and Flint. Why would they? Pansy was my childhood friend, and while Flint and I weren't best mates or anything, we respected each other. What could they have possibly done to make me so angry to murder them after all these years?” It was so odd to hear Draco speak as if he didn't just kill Pansy, or that he had the intent to do the same to Flint. But the worst feeling was that he was right - Draco would have never done such a thing if it weren't for Ginny. If Ginny took herself out of the puzzle, so many things would be different. Draco would be different. Was he regretting everything he had done for her? “But Pansy knew everything, Draco. What if -” “No one else knows,” Draco said. He took a bigger drink. “No one else can know.” Ginny paused. “Hermione did,” she said. Draco's hand paused, and his eyes darted to Ginny's. “Another memory?” Ginny nodded and hugged herself. “I think if it wasn't for what I did to Flint last night, I would have been shocked that I could even do that sort of thing,” she said. “But it still hurts. How could I have done that to a friend? How could you? Is that what we did, Draco? Did we just take down everyone in our path, no matter who they were?” There was silence. Ginny spoke the thought that neither wanted to acknowledge. If it hurt Ginny enough to remember something she did years ago, how would it affect Draco when the acts were still new? Draco put his drink down and walked towards her. Ginny froze when he approached, but he stopped to sit on the arm of the couch next to her. He looked exhausted. “Hermione was the first,” Draco said. “When you took away her memories, I think you were more shocked over how serious we were instead of what you actually did to your friend. And that's how it's always been, Ginny. It's never been about what we did to whom, but about if we could just have one more day together. “The second I realized I loved you, Ginny, I knew what I would have to do to keep you. I lied, and I betrayed. I killed my friends, and let my own mother die. I dishonored my father and everything he had worked for to make me into the person I was supposed to be. But I did all of that for you, Ginny, and I refuse to feel guilty about it.” Ginny felt tears in her eyes. After everything she had learned about Draco and what he had done, he had never been so direct about it. “But that doesn't make it right, Draco,” she said. “How many people have suffered just so we could be together?” She thought of Addion Malfoy. “We weren't supposed to be together, Draco. There have been so many signs, and so many things in the way. We're fighting against fate.” “I don't believe in fate,” Draco said. “We decide our own lives, Ginny, and I decided long ago that you would be in mine, no matter what the cost.” She felt a tear slip from her eye, but didn't wipe it away. “So you don't regret anything?” Draco was silent as he stood and closed the gap between them. “The only thing I regret,” he said, cupping her cheek with his hand, “is that you can't remember loving me. I know it was foolish, but I thought those memories would be strong enough to last.” A tear dropped, and then another. As Draco stood there, wiping them away, Ginny couldn't bring herself to tell him that she did remember; that last night she realized she loved him. That though she wasn't happy with what she had done in her life, she knew she did it for love. Everything went against them being together, yet there they were — together. Draco leaned in and kissed her lips so gently, that Ginny cried out. Feelings rushed through her body as he touched her. Everything seemed different now that she loved him. She wondered if this was the difference between having sex and making love - to want to be so wrapped up in a person, to become them. Draco ended the kiss and leaned back to look at her. Despite her feelings, it was still too new to say them, and he wasn't asking her to. But it was clear that Draco wanted Ginny to show him that all his sacrifices weren't one-sided, and that somewhere in her she wanted him, if not loved him. She paused long enough to see Draco's face drop a little in defeat. He started to step away when Ginny grabbed his hand. “Don't,” was all she got out before she leaned in and kissed him. It wasn't gentle like his kiss, but it had just as much passion. Ginny sighed when Draco kissed her back and wrapped his hands in her hair. She wondered if there was ever a time they were together when it wasn't confusing. Draco laid Ginny gently on the couch, never letting go of her lips. Her hands wrapped around his neck as Ginny held him closer to her, wanting to feel every inch of his body against hers. This was love, she thought to herself as Draco kissed her lips, eyelids, and forehead. Love was never getting enough of a person, and always wanting more. Love was doing anything for that person, just to be with them for one more second, for one more kiss. Draco stopped. Ginny opened her eyes and stared at him above her. His blonde hair dangled over her face, and there was a flush on his pale skin. Ginny ran her fingers through his hair while she stared into his gray eyes. How long had she been in love with those - from the moment she first noticed them on her, or before that? Could she believe that it just took one kiss from Draco to make her love him at Hogwarts, or were they, in fact, meant to be? Ginny's hand moved from his hair to the back of his head, and pulled Draco down for a kiss. Despite what Draco said, she did believe in fate. She wanted to believe that though everything was hard, that they were meant to be together. She wanted to have faith that they would never be parted, not even through death. Ginny deepened the kiss, making Draco groan against her lips. It didn't take long to feel his hands on her body, from her neck, to her chest, to pushing up the hem of her dress. She grabbed onto him and pulled him in close, making sure every curve of her body fit into his just so. How is it that after all these years, she could never get enough of him? Their kisses became urgent as Ginny unbuttoned Draco's shirt. She gasped when he nibbled her ear, whispering how he loved her and all he ever wanted was her. Draco's hand moved down the side of Ginny's body to her thigh, stroking it before moving it so he could settle in closer to her. When Ginny could feel his want against her, she abandoned his shirt and went for his pants, thankful there was no belt in the way. They were only apart long enough for Draco to free himself from his pants, not bothering to take them off. When Draco lay back on top of her, he kissed her gently before he looked at her. “If you can't remember,” he whispered as his hands moved her underwear to the side, stroking her, “just know it was always like this. How can everything be so wrong if this is the only thing that feels right?” Draco entered her slowly, making Ginny cry out in pleasure from his touch and his words. She wrapped her legs around him, welcoming him to fill her as much as he could. She wanted every part of him, and she never wanted to let go. For too long did she experience life without him, and she didn't think she could do it again. Sweat built on their foreheads as they panted and moved together. Though each thrust was longer and harder than before, they never stopped kissing. As Ginny's climax built, she held on tighter and more desperately. Flashes of memories erupted in Ginny's brain - when Draco caught her after she fell from her broomstick; their first kiss; their first time together; when she realized she loved him at Hogwarts. With one more thrust, Ginny was sent over the edge, crying out Draco's name. Draco followed soon after, groaning into the nape of her neck and clutching onto her. They lay on the couch, clutching each other. Draco was still breathing heavily into her neck, while Ginny stared out in front of her, her brain busy. The more she focused on the feeling of Draco with her, the more she could remember all the times they were together before. It was as if a window opened after she realized she loved him; that she was keeping it closed and she only had to open it to allow a breeze to come through and blow the fog away. “I remember,” she said as the scene unfolded in her eyes, “a night at Hogwarts when we were together.” Ginny scrunched her forehead as more details poured in. “Though we weren't supposed to meet. Something was going on with you. You were gone and I was worried …” Draco moved above her. Ginny felt him readjust her dress so she was covered once more and heard him zipper his pants, but she continued, not wanting to lose the memory. “It was late when an owl came with a letter from you. It said, `Meet me at midnight in the classroom with the clearest view of the lake. This time I'll send an owl along to let you know I'm near.'” Ginny blinked and looked at Draco, whose eyes were studying her from where he stood. “That was a letter I found in the box hidden in the garden,” she said proudly, reaffirming that what was becoming clear was true. He simply nodded and waited for her to continue. “So I went there, and I remember being afraid. And when you arrived, you looked so sad. But you said something that upset me.” Ginny paused in concentration as the memory slipped away. “Promise me,” Draco said quietly, startling Ginny. “With everything that happens, you'll always be mine. I can't let you be his.” His words clicked in her brain, and Ginny nodded to the missing piece of the puzzle. But as Draco spoke, the hesitation grew. She didn't think it was a memory she wanted to remember. “I got angry, didn't I? I was upset because you were gone all day with no word, and then I thought you were talking about Harry and how he couldn't have me.” Ginny paused as the memory ended with her mad at Draco for him thinking that she would ever be Harry's. But what stood out was that Draco let her get angry, and never corrected her or made his point clear. He let her simply believe Harry was the only problem in their life until he kissed her and made love with her, further distracting her from what really happened. Ginny sat up. “What did happen that day, Draco? What did you really mean?” Draco was silent. As he watched her, Ginny noticed the light in his eyes dimmed a little at her recollection. It made her wonder if Draco had hoped that some memories of him would be lost forever. “It was the day I was called to the Dark Lord and received my mark,” Draco said, his voice empty. “I hid it from you, but after awhile you figured it out.” Ginny felt a chill run down her spine. She remembered what it was like seeing the Dark Mark on him for the first time at the manor. To see the mark of death imprinted on someone she loved was never a feeling she could get used to. “And the person you were talking about?” Ginny whispered, afraid of the truth. Draco stared at her so forcefully, that she knew he wanted to lie. He wanted to walk away and hide the truth from her a little longer. He wanted to protect her. Draco's jaw tightened. “The only person we have to fear.” Draco took a step towards her when he suddenly grabbed his arm in pain and doubled over. Ginny screamed as she ran to him, but it was too late. There was only enough time to see the Dark Mark pulse against Draco's arm and the fear in his eyes. “Ginny,” Draco cried out, and with a pop he was gone. Ginny stared with wide eyes where Draco was only a second ago. He was taken away from her by the only person they had to fear. Voldemort. ~*~ Hi everyone! Hope you enjoyed this chapter - it was a rather large one, but I think I updated quicker than the past few ones. There are TWO chapters left, and a possible epilogue (or that's the plan anyways). I hope to have that all done by the summer. I've been working on this for so long! I have to say, I think I'm more anxious on how this will end than my awesome readers! The idea for this story popped into my head almost four years ago. I don't know if I told you guys this, but when I started writing this, I only had the story planned out as far as Ginny finding out that Draco took her memories away. That was it! If anything that explains why it takes me a bit longer to get these chapters out - I'm still figuring out what happens next! Though, if I can took my own horn for a minute, I am proud of myself on being sneaky ;) Throughout the story, almost every comment, dream, quote, etc., has been placed for a reason. In this chapter, when Ginny and Draco were discussing the newest memory while they were on the couch: *“It was late when an owl came with a letter from you. It said, `**Meet me at midnight in the classroom with the clearest view of the lake. This time I'll send an owl along to let you know I'm near.'” …. “Promise me,” Draco said quietly, startling Ginny. “With everything that happens, you'll always be mine. I can't let you be his.”* I first mentioned this in Chapter 12 in a dream: *But here she was, sitting on a desk as if waiting for someone. It was dark out, and she was in her old uniform. Ginny played with her Gryffindor tie, missing what she once had. She felt the material of her robe, slightly scratchy from being second-hand, but it felt so real against her fingertips. Even an owl that hooted outside the window made her jump. She hopped off the desk and walked over to a window, where she could see the moonlight reflecting off the lake below. Somewhere she heard a clock chime, and according to it, it was midnight.* *“Promise me you'll always be mine.” … “Promise me,” he continued. “With everything that happens, you'll always be mine.” His face turned dark. “I can't let you be his.”* And then another reference in Chapter 13: *One of the secret letters laid open next to the photo of herself on the desk. And on both of them were the identical handwriting. Only this time the letter said, “Meet me at midnight in the classroom with the clearest view of the lake. This time I'll send an owl along to let you know I'm near.”* I think it's neat, ha. That's one of many, many examples, but one of the few that are tied up, case closed (which is why I'm sharing it!). Thanks SO much for everyone's encouraging words and amazing patience. I will say this: If I'm slower on getting out these last chapters, it's only because they have to be perfect. It's not just a matter of making sure all your questions are answered, and that every loop hole is closed, but to make it worth the long wait! Lots of love, Liz21 --> 24. Chapter Nineteen -------------------- This is the last full chapter of "The Secrets of War." There will be an epilogue, which I plan to post before Christmas. It's taken far too long to write this. I've been working on this for months, and have kept you all waiting long enough. Enjoy. ~*~ Chapter Nineteen Time slowed as Ginny stared at the spot where Draco just stood. He was there, they had made love, and then he disappeared in the blink of an eye. Ginny shook her head. He didn't just disappear. He was taken away - summoned - by the only person they had left to fear. Reality fast-forwarded and hit Ginny in the face. Before she could make any sense of what happened, she ran over to the fireplace, grabbed a handful of Floo powder, and cried out for Snape. Snape's head appeared in a second, and from the look on his face, he was just as bewildered as she was. “What are you doing, calling me like this, Weasley?” Snape snapped. “If I had a fellow Death Eater over, or worse-“ “Voldemort,” Ginny spat out, making each of them cringe at the name. “He took Draco. His Darkmark went off and-“ Ginny didn't need to say anymore. Despite the green light, Snape's face flushed at her words. “I'll be over as soon as I can,” Snape said, and then the light went out. The time Snape spent to get over there wasn't soon enough, though. The seconds and minutes stretched into eternal anxiety. She ran to her room and changed into clothes she could fight in and grabbed her wand, hiding it in her back pocket as her only secret weapon. When Ginny went back to Draco's study and waited for Snape, she tried not to look around at all that reminded her of him. She knew in the moment of seeing Snape that not all the Death Eaters were summoned. Whatever Voldemort wanted, he only needed Draco. Ginny closed her eyes and hid her head in her hands. This was all happening too fast; it was making her dizzy. She had just realized she loved Draco. She only learned that she would fight death for him if it came to that. Now it was here, and all she could do was sit and wait for the next step. It all came down to the final battle for their love, and Ginny didn't even know where to find Draco. When Snape entered the room, Ginny didn't jump up and rush at him as she thought she would. Instead, they stared at each other in silence with the knowledge of what was to happen weighing them both down. “So he was the only one summoned?” Ginny finally asked. Snape nodded. “I contacted a few Death Eaters. They knew nothing. Just the same talk of Flint's and Pansy's death.” “But he's often had meetings before with just He Who Must Not Be Named, right?” Snape nodded once more. “Draco managed to get very … close with the Dark Lord throughout the war. It's how he secured you as his prisoner. The more the Dark Lord trusted Draco, the more he would give what was wanted.” “But he had to know Draco was up to something,” Ginny said. “We're talking about someone who beat Harry, someone who now rules this world. “ Ginny paused. “Draco had to know he couldn't fool the most powerful wizard forever.” “I think you'd be surprised of what Draco is capable of, or how powerful the Dark Lord is,” Snape said. “And after all, I did train Draco to keep his secrets hidden.” Ginny's eyes rounded. “You knew about us before-“ “Not exactly,” Snape interrupted. “Draco came to me for Occlumency training. It was odd enough that Draco, who was raised to one day be the Dark Lord's follower, would want to defy his master in such a way by hiding his thoughts and memories from him. “Beyond that was his fierce determination to succeed. I knew Draco had a powerful secret, something he was so desperate to keep hidden. Even though I was the one training him, I couldn't get a glimpse of what it was. Until one day when Draco was too tired, and his days toward the Dark Mark were drawing nearer, that I caught an image of a girl with red hair.” Ginny remembered the times she felt Snape's eyes on hers, as if he was trying to find an answer to a specific question. “What Draco didn't and doesn't know is my loyalty to the Order. When I saw you in his thoughts, I simply pretended I didn't. Draco moved on with his studies and his plans to keep you safe from the Dark Lord and his followers, and I kept an eye on you until you were the only member of the Order left.” “But he's slipped since then,” Ginny said, staring at her hands. “He may have all the strengths of training and fighting, but his weakness is me.” Ginny looked up at Snape, and saw the same thought on his face. “He's lied, killed, betrayed, and all for me. At some point, someone was going to put all those pieces together and see where the trail led.” “He's made it this far,” Snape said, but his tone did not reassure Ginny. Ginny shook her head and stood up. “I can't sit here any longer and wait for Draco to be okay. I need you to tell me how to get to him. Where is he hiding, how do I get in-“ A shrieking noise erupted in the room and throughout the manor, cutting Ginny off as she clutched her ears. Her face grimaced in pain at the noise. She yelled at Snape, “What is that?” When Snape's first movement was to check his Death Mark, Ginny's heart sank. It wasn't black like Draco's when he was summoned, but before Ginny could rejoice she saw the scared look on Snape's face. “They're here,” Snape said. He pushed Ginny away from the door and towards Draco's desk. Ginny caught herself on the edge of the desk, where the picture was of her in Hogwarts, smiling at her without a care in the world. “Snape - what-“ “Death Eaters,” he yelled back, the noise deafening them both. He glanced from the door and then to Ginny. “I rigged Draco's security system. If they're here, then that means the Dark Lord knows.” The shrieking noise suddenly stopped, but Ginny's pounding heart continued. She stared at the picture of her, young and in love with Draco. There were Death Eaters in the manor coming for her, and all she could think about was how this little picture was enough evidence to end it all. Snape pulled out his wand and used it to shut the door. His head snapped back to Ginny. “You need to get out of here,” he hissed. “Take the secret passageway and run.” Ginny turned from the picture to Snape, and couldn't help but weaken at the deep pale in his face and the panic in his eyes. Never had she seen him so undone; yet she wondered why it wasn't hitting her that they were at the end of their journey. Voldemort had Draco, he sent his followers for Ginny, and Snape, the spy, was about to blow his cover by saving her neck. She could hear loud footsteps on the stairs, but couldn't tell how many people there were. She looked away from Snape and around the study to the pensieve, where she discovered her and Draco's secret past, and then to the couch, where they made love. Even when death faced her, Ginny couldn't leave that room and the manor. She had welcomed it and Draco fully into her life; she wasn't ready to give it all away. Not without a fight. She went to grab her wand when a red spark flew at her and singed the desk next to her, knocking down the frame. Ginny jumped but it was only Snape with his wand pointed at her. His face still held paleness, but his eyes were darker. “Go now and hide your wand,” he hissed. “Remember that no one else knows you have it.” Several booms erupted in the hallways, as if doors were being knocked down. “But what about you?” Ginny asked as she looked at the secret passageway entrance. “Go!” Snape yelled, another red spark exploding. The booms in the hallway grew closer. As Snape turned his back on Ginny to defend the door, she did exactly as she was taught to do in the war - she hid. She found the uneven brick and pushed on it, opening the entrance. As she ran inside, something pounded against the study door. Her last image before the brick door shutting was Snape facing the door, wand at the ready. Adrenaline kicked into Ginny and she ran down the hallway. Each footstep she told herself that Snape was right for her to run. He still might be able to cover himself for why he was at the manor, maybe to nab Ginny for Voldemort himself. But what good would it do either of them if Ginny stayed and fought by his side? If there was a chance she could make it out of the manor undetected and find Draco, she had to take it. She passed the door to the library and kept running. It was quiet in the hallway; only the pounding of her feet and heart filled the musky space. How long ago was it since she hid there from Draco, and now she was running to find him? When she reached the end, she waited for a moment to catch her breath before she could listen through the other side of Narcissa's portrait. When silence greeted her, Ginny made sure her wand was tucked safely away and pushed the brick. There was no one on the other side of the brick wall. Ginny breathed deeply, and was trying to figure out how to get out safely when a voice made her jump. “Weasley?” Narcissa's portrait asked. “What are you doing here? And what was that dreadful noise?” Ginny swung around to look at the blonde woman's stern face. Ginny had every sense to run before the portrait made another peep, but Narcissa was once a Death Eater. She had to know where Draco was. “Please, Mrs. Malfoy,” Ginny whispered. “He Who Must Not Be Named has Draco. I need to find him and-“ Narcissa's tightened face dropped and worry replaced it. “Why would the Dark Lord have Draco? What has he done?” Ginny flushed. The thought of telling Narcissa that her son was in love with a Weasley, along with the rest of what he has done, confirmed her want to run away. “Please, there's no time. They found Snape and I need to-“ In that moment, Ginny wondered why she never found Narcissa as scary as Lucius. Every inch of Narcissa's beautiful face turned to stone as she glared at Ginny. “I died for my son,” Narcissa hissed. “You will tell me exactly what he did to make it worth that, or I will scream until the Death Eaters find the trash in front of me.” At those words, a fire erupted in Ginny that was missing the moment Draco was taken away. It was because of people like Narcissa that Draco and her had to hide their love in the first place, and all their pain and suffering has only led them to the end. Well, Ginny wasn't going down without a fight. “It's because your precious son fell in love with trash like me,” Ginny snapped, ignoring the shocked look on Narcissa's face. “Everything he has always done since Hogwarts was to protect me, and now I have to do the same. You saved Draco's life once by giving your own. I need your help again. You can think the worst about me, but it's your son I want to help.” The moment Ginny saw the pain etched into Narcissa's face, she regretted how harsh she was. How easy it was for Ginny to get angry with Narcissa, but Ginny had almost forgotten that Narcissa sacrificed her life for Draco when he was with the enemy. And it looked as if Narcissa was piecing the timeframe together as well. A noise at the end of the hallway made Ginny jump. Narcissa looked at the edge of her portrait and when she looked back at Ginny, a sincere frown was on her face. “It's too late,” she whispered. “The other portraits said there are two Death Eaters coming this way.” Panic filled Ginny. She was trapped in a corner with Draco's mother, who was just as likely to turn her in to the Death Eaters if she could. The noise grew closer, and all Ginny could do was shrink into the corner. She knew going back to the study was pointless. But if she could make it to the fireplace- “Weasley,” Narcissa said. It was the kindness in Narcissa's voice that took Ginny by surprise. Ginny turned to look at the woman who looked so much like Draco. She had the same cold face, and the beautiful blonde hair. She even had the same gray eyes, with a hint of sadness. “The Dark Lord's only weakness is love,” Narcissa said. “It's why he killed me. He couldn't understand someone who would die for a person they loved. It's something he never had. And he will likely do the same to Draco, because he will never comprehend loving another so much, you're willing to do anything for them.” Ginny stared at her. “I don't understand …” “Don't fight the Death Eaters - you can only get into the headquarters with one. But once you're there, fight with all you have. Fight with the one thing the Dark Lord will never know or understand, no matter how powerful he is. Fight with your heart and save my boy.” She disappeared before Ginny could respond. Men yelled at her and in a moment she felt a pair of rough hands on her arm. She did as Narcissa said, and didn't fight the Death Eaters as they bounded her arms and dragged her away from Malfoy Manor. She listened to Narcissa's words as Crabbe and Goyle Apparted her away from her home, because Narcissa had the same look in her eyes that Draco always had. Blind, stubborn hope. ~*~ Ginny didn't have to open her eyes to see where they Apparated to. She would never forget that stench of death, or the screeches of pain. They were back in the prison where Ginny was kept hostage, where, to her, a new life began with Draco. What was the chance of the same place being the end as well? Only when Goyle pulled her arm to walk did she open her eyes. They were alone at the Apparation point. Still, Ginny planted her feet in the dirt ground and tried to push herself away from the two men. She listened to Narcissa and got in with a Death Eater, but now she had to fight. She needed to run to a hiding place, get her ropes undone, and raise hell with her wand. But Goyle and Crabbe didn't flinch at Ginny's attempts. Instead, Goyle pushed her down to the ground and pointed his wand at her as she lay in the dirt, looking up at him. “We could do this the easy way or the hard way, Weasley,” Goyle drawled. Crabbe simply snickered. Ginny blew the hair out of her face and glared at the men. She wanted to tell at them to piss off, but she paused. How much did they know about the situation? For all Ginny knew, Voldemort only had his suspicions. He called Draco away, and made it look like something horrible had happened for Ginny to be the one to betray their secret. That, and as far as she could tell, Snape wasn't caught. There was still a small chance they could all be safe. Ginny continued her glare. “What the hell are you doing?” she snapped. “Why am I here?” Crabbe laughed and Goyle smiled down from his wand. “Someone seem to forget they're a prisoner?” Goyle said. Ginny's heart dropped, but she didn't let it show. “How could I with you bastards?” she snapped. “I thought my punishment was to be at Malfoy's. What am I doing back here?” It wasn't difficult to force the fear in her voice. When Goyle smirked and yanked her up instead of answering, Ginny knew he had no idea. He pushed her to walk in front of him to an entrance on their left. When Ginny looked down the hallway, she froze and desperately tried to run away with zero success. Down the hallway on both sides were the prisoner cells, something she had just gotten out of her nightmares. For how long was she on the other side of the bars, watching people like her walking by, knowing they wouldn't come back? Ginny couldn't look into the prisoners faces and know, from their sad look, that she wasn't coming back either. They walked to the end of the hallway to a large, black door. Crabbe knocked twice and waited. Each second that went by, Ginny's heart pounded. This was really it. Whatever - whoever - was behind that door would be it. The door swung open, but no one was there. The circular room was empty, minus the dozens of candles that were lit on the floor, casting shadows along the wall. Before Ginny could settle down, Goyle pushed her into the room and shut the door behind her. Ginny staggered from his shove, but caught herself before she fell onto a candle. She rushed back to the door and tried to open it with her tied hands, but it was no use. She couldn't even get her wand. She was locked in and defenseless. A breeze of wind stirred Ginny's hair, startling her as she jumped to face the room. It was too quiet, and the light flickering off the walls made it look as if there were things moving in the room that she could only see in shadow. The room was just as big as Draco's study, but the lighting tricked her eyes. It was when Ginny heard a footstep that she knew she wasn't being paranoid. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes scanned the room, but the sound bounced off the circular walls. All Ginny could do was press herself against the door as she furiously tried to wiggle her hands out of the tied rope. Ginny froze when her eyes did catch something. On the other side of the room, she saw someone standing towards her, but their upper half was covered in shadow. All she could see were dirty tennis shoes and torn khakis. She knew from the size of the shoes that the person was a man, and also knew Voldemort wouldn't wear such a thing. She still trembled. But there was a small chance that it was someone who could help her. Maybe it was another prisoner, trapped and waiting for their death as well. She summoned up every ounce of bravery she had and said, “Who's there?” The person took another step forward, allowing the flickering light to show Ginny everything but his face. She was certain it was a man now. He was wearing a green sweater so dirty, she couldn't make out the lettering on it. There was dried blood on his hands, and he held no wand. “Who are you?” Ginny asked. “Can you talk? Are you hurt?” The light flickered in such a way that something gleamed from the man's face, as if he was wearing glasses. Ginny's eyes lowered back to the man's sweater as her body tingled. Time froze as she squinted to make out what was on the fabric. It was the letter H, a letter she had seen her mother sew so many times into her homemade sweaters on the green fabric she picked out just to match the eyes of the boy who would wear it. Ginny's legs wobbled under her and she sank to her knees. “No,” she muttered. “No it can't be. You're dead.” When the man walked out of the shadows, a cry erupted out of her mouth but she was frozen to her spot. All she could do was stare at Harry. He looked just as he did the last time she saw him alive. He was wearing the same clothes and ratty shoes. His glasses still had tape around the middle when they were once broken, because he worried that using magic to fix them would trigger any alarms Voldemort set. And he had the same beaten expression on his face. "Ginny," Harry whispered. His voice sent shivers down her spine. "But how?" she whispered, shaking her head. "You're dead. Everyone said you're dead." Harry's face, so full of sadness, managed a small smile. "Do I look dead? You know I'd never leave you." Whatever strength, whatever reasoning she had left in her broke down. Ginny stood up and ran over to him, to hug him and cry with him. Harry Potter was alive this whole time. There was still hope for the world. He met her halfway and engulfed her in his arms, swallowing her whole as they stood among the candles. He whispered, "Ginny, oh Ginny," as she cried into his chest as every memory from the moment the war started to the story of his death hit her. All of her friends and family were gone, but Harry wasn't. Ginny stepped back a few inches so Harry could untie her hands. Once she was free, she hugged him with every ounce she could, for every second she missed him. So many memories came back of Harry with Ron and Hermione, of him with her family on Christmas, and she welcomed every one of them. Ginny took a step back to wipe the tears off her face. "It's really you," she said, staring at his green eyes and then his scar. "All this time ... but how? He Who Must Not Be Named ... he won." The smile on Harry's face vanished. "He did win. We fought and he won, but he didn't kill me. The only reason I can come up with was he was afraid his spell would backfire, like it did the first time when I was a baby. "I've been here since, praying for death every day." Ginny shook her head. "Don't say such a thing," she said. "Do you know what this means? We still have a chance, Harry. We have a chance to fix everything and make it right again." "Is it true?" he interrupted. "That Ron's dead? And Hermione?" What little joy she had left in her broke at Harry asking about his best friends. How could she be the one to tell him that yes, his biggest motivations to fight were gone? "Harry-" "And your family? And the rest of the Order?" Ginny was no longer crying, but her body shook in pain for him and herself. "Harry, please don't-" "And that the Death Eaters have taken over? That any women left on our side are being raped and tortured?" "Stop it," she cried, her voice echoing off the walls. "Harry please, you can't do this to yourself. I know what you're thinking, and it's not your fault. Can't you see what a miracle it is that you're alive?" "All those people are dead because of me," Harry said. "I failed." Ginny desperately shook her head. "No, Harry. That's war. We all knew that. People die, lives get torn apart, but there's still hope. You still have to fight. We can do this together, Harry. Others survived. And me. I'm still here." Harry was silent as he calculated her words. The fire flickered, and the shadows grew darker. Then Harry spoke. "Is it true that you're Malfoy's prisoner?" His words stopped her cold. The blood drained from her face. Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. A Death Eater. His archenemy. The man he hated most. The man she had secretly been with while she lied to and betrayed Harry. Only Harry still didn't know, despite all that has happened. The shame she felt was twice as heavy knowing while she moved on with what she did to him, Harry was still alive and suffering alone. Ginny wrapped her arms around herself. "Yes," she said. "But I'm safe. Everything is okay." Harry's expression didn't change. "Then why are you here?" Time stilled as Ginny stared at Harry, as memories came crashing through her mind of running around Hogwarts in secret with Draco; of her lying to Harry, Ron, and Hermione of her whereabouts. Of a time where she thought she loved Harry, waiting for the day that he would be hers, and only when he returned that love did she betray him by loving his enemy. She had only just realized why she did it all for herself and for Draco. But was all of that so easy to understand when she thought Harry was dead, along with the rest of the consequences and guilt of her sins? Ginny opened her mouth to speak when a loud noise filled the room. She jumped and turned to see a wall slide open. A gust of wind came through and blew out half the candles. Harry yelled, "Get back!" and pushed her behind him, protecting her from who or what was about to come through the opening. Ginny gasped as she saw a man walk through. This was it, she thought. Voldemort had finally come. The lights flickered against the man just as they did for Harry, hiding his figure in the shadows. The man took a step forward. Ginny reached behind her back for her wand. Then the figure spoke, his voice filling every pore of her body. "Ginny?" It was Draco. Ginny cried as he stepped into the light and took him in. His hair was a mess and he was ghostly pale, but he had no cuts or bruises on him. Draco was okay. Suddenly, every candle exploded with light, filling up the entire room and erasing the shadows. Draco, Ginny, and Harry all stared at each other "Draco," Ginny gasped. She moved around Harry and toward Draco, but only got a step in before Harry yanked her back. "What are you doing?" Harry asked, bewildered. "It's Malfoy, Ginny!" Ginny shook her head as she tried to wiggle out of Harry's grip. "Harry, please-" Harry held on tighter. Ginny turned to Draco for help, but his wide eyes were fixated on Harry. "You," Draco said to Harry. "You're supposed to be dead." Harry glared at Draco, his grasp tightening on Ginny. "That was the plan, wasn't it?" Ginny's arm hurt under Harry's hand. "Let me go, Harry." But Harry didn't. He stared at her, and she knew she looked desperate to free herself from Harry to get to Draco. She felt beyond shameful; she had only just gotten Harry back, but now that Draco was there and alive, she had to go to him. She felt something fire up in her, and had a faint reflection of feeling that way while in Hogwarts; how she would lie to anyone and do anything just to be with Draco. Harry looked at her, and then Draco as if he was trying to piece together a puzzle. "I know that you took Ginny as a prisoner, Malfoy," Harry said. "But she looks fine; she looks better than she did when I last saw her during the war." He paused. "So what did you do to her?" Draco narrowed his eyes at Harry. The shock from seeing his enemy alive must have worn off; color returned to his face, and the Malfoy glare returned. "Only what she wanted, Potter." Ginny watched as Harry's face turned from confusion, to anger, to hatred. But his eyes were on Draco. "What did you do to her, you sick bastard," Harry said. His face turned red. "Did you torture her? Mess with her mind?" Ginny shook her head. "Harry, no it's not like that-" "Then what is it, Ginny?" Harry said. "Why are you throwing yourself at him? You've been a prisoner of Malfoy's - a Death Eater - and suddenly you forget who you are? How his father tried to kill you? How he tortured Ron, your dead brother, for years?" "Stop it-" "Or that he killed Hermione? And Lupin? Or-" "I love him!" Harry dropped her arm as if it was on fire. The candles stilled. Ginny's breath caught in her throat. She couldn't bring herself to look at Draco to see his reaction; this wasn't about them. This was about Harry finally knowing the truth, and she would take whatever response he gave her. She thought she had lost Harry once, but she could never really have him back unless she was completely honest with him. She held her breath as she watched Harry's face. The shock was still there, but the anger grew. And then Harry asked the one question she was dreading. "For how long?" Ginny could have said since she was brought to Malfoy Manor, because that was partially true - she entered truly hating Draco Malfoy, and left falling back in love with him, as Draco had hoped would happen since he took her memories away. But with Harry right there, and the truth finally out, Ginny had an intense urge to tell him everything in hopes that the guilt would ease, and that maybe, once Harry sees it all, she wouldn't lose him forever. Ginny opened her mouth when suddenly Draco pulled his wand out and pointed it to Harry. She gave him an exasperated look but stopped. Draco's face was blank and his eyes seemed guarded as he stared at Harry. Ginny started at him, and then Harry right next to her. "Draco-" Draco's eyes didn't move from Harry. "That isn't Harry." Ginny looked at Harry, who watched them with steady eyes. She shook her head as she looked at his glasses, and then his scar. "Draco, how could you-" "He asked how long you've loved me, Ginny, instead of how you could in the first place." Ginny shook her head and wanted to tell Draco that he wasn't making sense, and that Harry was real, when Draco's words sank in. For her to have told Harry, someone who had loved her as much as he despised Draco, that she was in love with the enemy - for him to even soak in the idea of her choosing Draco Malfoy over him - would have been enough for him to stubbornly refuse to believe it because such a thing was just not possible in Harry's mind. But the person in front of her didn't show an ounce of heartbreak or confusion. He simply asked a question to something that he already knew. How easily she forgot where she was and why she was there when she saw Harry. The fear grew at knowing despite Draco stopping her, she had already said too much. Draco was bait for Ginny. All Voldemort had to do was appear as Harry and Ginny would tell him everything because she needed to clear her conscience, and Voldemort needed to know just how Draco had betrayed him before he killed them both. When Harry smiled, her fears were confirmed. Ginny gasped as she watched the bashful smile she saw laugh so many times transform into a thin-lipped smirk; his green eyes that were so deep and caring turned red. His messy hair, his broken glasses ­- everything down to his scar vanished, and before Ginny stood the definition of everything she had associated with death and fear. Voldemort. Ginny was too scared to scream. She stumbled backward to Draco, who shoved her behind him, as if they stood a chance. But Ginny knew from Voldemort's amused look that they had met their end. "So a Malfoy has fallen for a Weasley," Voldemort finally said, his snake-like tone echoing in the room. "How ... tragic." Ginny could feel Draco's body grow more rigid with every word, but he didn't speak. Voldemort pressed his long fingertips together as if in deep thought. "The question isn't why though, Draco. It's how long. How long have you kept your secrets from me, your master? How long have you played me for a fool right under my nose?" "Does that really matter?" Draco finally said. His voice was solid, but Ginny knew he was afraid. "You'll kill us no matter what I say." Voldemort stared at Draco as his hands fell to his side. "Indeed I will," he said, "but how I do it will all depend on what you've done to me and every one of my followers who got in the way. Pansy. Flint. Your mother. Just how far back does your list of betrayal go, Draco?" When Draco didn't respond, Voldemort raised his hand. "The hard way then?" With a swish, Voldemort's wand was out and Draco was thrown across the room. Ginny screamed as he bashed into the wall and fell to the ground. Draco struggled to get up but he was too slow - Voldemort was already in front of Ginny, inches from her. Courage abandoned her as she coiled away from the face of death. She had only seen Voldemort a few times - Harry and her brothers always made sure to limit her experience in the war ­- but never this close. She had learned to fear him as others did from birth, but she didn't know what true fear was until that moment. "Get away from her!" Draco yelled from the side. He managed to stand up; his head was gashed open and blood trickled down. But before he could take a step forward Voldemort held up his wand and Draco was pushed back into the wall. Ginny watched helplessly as invisible binds held Draco back no matter how much he tried to fight it. Voldemort lowered his wand, but Draco continued to struggle. "We both know I can't get any answers from you, Draco," Voldemort said. He turned to Ginny and stared at her. "Though I imagine you've never taught her how to guard her thoughts as you have been doing for years." Ginny didn't have time to close her eyes. Voldemort whispered, "Legilimens," and then Ginny saw every memory she couldn't stop herself from showing Voldemort. Ginny was almost 10, and she had caught sight of the famous Harry Potter as her and her mom dropped Ron off for his first year at Hogwarts. Ginny was 14, and she was playing cards with Ron and her father. But then her memories fast-forward as if Voldemort was shuffling through for one in particular. And then he found it. Ginny watched as she was in the Great Hall, staring at the newspaper that said Lucius Malfoy was killed. It then skipped ahead to when Ginny went to Draco afterwards to comfort him in the real beginning of their relationship. Ginny willed herself to shut Voldemort out of her brain before he saw more, but she knew it was too late. Voldemort saw the date on the paper. He knew exactly how long Draco and Ginny had been together. When Voldemort pulled out of Ginny's mind, she collapsed to the floor, exhausted from trying to fight him and knowing she'd never be able to. She managed to look up at Draco, and the look on his face said enough; Voldemort knew the truth and they could only hope for a quick death. Voldemort left Ginny on the floor; she had given him all he needed. He walked towards Draco, who struggled more against the invisible binds the closer Voldemort got. Voldemort stopped a foot before him. "I must say, Draco, before I kill you, that you had quite a clever plan there. I saw enough in her mind, or not enough, to see that you tampered with her memories. You knew you were trained well enough to guard your memories, but the only way to secure Weasley's safety was to take hers away. That's quite the risk. "Was it worth it, though? Is it worth knowing that never have I been betrayed in such a way, and I will make sure you feel every ounce of my anger as I kill you?" Draco's eyes locked on Ginny's. Tears formed in her eyes as they stared at each other, as if Voldemort wasn't in the room and there was no fear. He looked at her with the same eyes as when they first made love in Hogwarts, with such love and passion that he was willing to risk everything for it. And he did. "Nothing you could do to me would make me regret loving her," Draco said. "Not even death." Ginny's heart about stopped. Voldemort's back was to her, but she could feel his anger pulsating throughout the room. The candles' flames exploded and Voldemort drew his wand over Draco's heart. "Then only in death you'll have each other," Voldemort hissed as he raised his wand. "No!" Ginny screamed. Without thinking she grabbed her wand from her back pocket and yelled, "Expelliarmus!" Voldemort's wand shot out of his hand and across the room, freeing Draco of his binds as he fell to the floor. Voldemort spun around, his eyes wild and confused as he stared at Ginny with her wand in hand. Ginny slowly stood to her feet with her wand pointed at Voldemort. She willed for her arm not to shake; she knew she was only able to repel Voldemort's wand because she caught him by surprise. Voldemort stared at the wand, which should have been broken in half when she was taken prisoner. He turned back to Draco and, putting it together, yelled, "You!" as he grabbed him by his neck, his long, spider-like hands wrapping around it whole. "Let him go," Ginny yelled, her wand pointing at Voldemort. Voldemort paused, his hand still around Draco, whose face was turning red as he struggled to breath. "And if I don't?" "I'll kill you," Ginny said. "Don't think for a second I won't after all you've done to me." Laughter was not the response Ginny was expecting. Loud, echoing laughs erupted from Voldemort's mouth, but there was no humor in the eyes. He did let go of Draco, who took a long, ragged breath. "You, a Weasley, are challenging me?" Voldemort said. "For him?" "Don't, Ginny," Draco gasped. He managed to get on his feet, but Voldemort still stood between them. Ginny ignored Draco and glared at Voldemort. "You saw all my memories. You know what I'd do for Draco." Voldemort stared at her. "Yes, and I'm starting to piece together what Draco has done for you as well. His mother's death makes perfect sense ­- I did send Draco after you. Or why it seemed you were the healthiest of all the prisoners here. Or, better yet, how you are the only surviving Weasley when I so desperately wanted to kill every last one of you Muggle-loving fools. "I see now for how long he's been lying to me just to save your neck, and I'll be very happy when I kill him. But I have to say, as much of a traitor as he was, he was still faithful to me when it mattered most." It wasn't Voldemort's words that shook Ginny - it was seeing the color drain for Draco's face. "What does that mean?" Ginny asked, but she didn't want to know. This time, Voldemort had a real smile on his face. "Well he got a number of your people - Lupin for one, and of course Granger -" "I know all this," Ginny snapped. She knew Voldemort was trying to distract her. "He told me everything and I've learned to deal with it." "But how could that be when you thought Harry Potter was alive?" Ginny slowly shook her head. "What does that have to do with-" "Of course, you forgot. Draco told me where to find Potter so I could murder him." Ginny remembered, clear as day, when she first went to Malfoy Manor as a prisoner. Draco said that she was his prize for finding her dead boyfriend. "He told me that - that has nothing to do with -" "Draco knew where to find Harry because you told him." Ginny didn't move. She didn't breathe. Voldemort could have killed her right then, and she wouldn't have noticed. All she could do was stare at Draco, praying that he would say it was a lie. Draco didn't say a word. "I remember thinking how odd it was for Draco to know where Potter was located," Voldemort continued, as if they were taking about the weather. "He never did tell me how he figured it out, just simply told me the location and how to get to the secret tunnel to the caves where Potter hid. He said all he wanted in return was to be rewarded. "To think that it was just off your family's property in the woods, only a few miles away from where I murdered everyone. I went to them first, before Draco told me, to see where Potter was hiding. They died, refusing to tell. And you wasted their death by telling the man you thought you could trust where Potter was hiding." Ginny shook her head. Her heart pounded in her ears. "I would never do that," she said. "No matter what I felt for Draco, he was still the enemy." "Do you want to know how I killed Potter, Weasley?" Voldemort said, ignoring Ginny. "I found him unguarded, waiting for you. News had reached him that you survived, but he didn't know you were already a prisoner. He waited there for you to find him, and that's when I killed him. "To think that through all this, Potter and everyone else died because you loved a Malfoy. He willingly gave up the Chosen One and sacrificed Potter's life and hundreds others just so he could have you. "Now let me ask you the same question I asked Malfoy - was it all worth it?" Though her wand still pointed at Voldemort, Ginny's eyes were on Draco. Blood still trickled from his wound, and there were faint bruises around his neck. His blonde, messy hair hung in his face, but nothing could compare to the look in his eyes - he looked defeated. "Is this true?" Ginny said. "That I ... that you ..." Draco's eyes dropped to the ground; his shoulders slumped. Voldemort stood to the side as if he was watching a movie, his sinister smile growing by the second. "You didn't tell me where Potter was," Draco finally said. "I stole it from your memories." He looked up at Ginny, his eyes suddenly pleading. "I knew the only way to save you was to take your memories, and the only way I could have you back was to give the Dark Lord the only thing he wanted - Potter." Ginny wanted to believe he was lying; she refused to admit that when death faced them both, Draco would give everything up and let her know what he had done, that that would be her last thought of him. And how easily he could lie to her so she wouldn't lose any reasoning to save them both. But words rang in her ears from when she first learned Snape was on her side, and what he said about how Draco got her: "The Dark Lord went to drastic measures. He began saying whoever could find Potter would be greatly awarded, that they could have anything they dreamed of. And that's when Draco told him of where Potter was.” Maybe the only reason why her knees didn't buckle is because deep down, somehow, she always knew. She had known what Draco was capable of when it came to her, and she knew he would cross all lines to save her life. Was it so hard to believe that the real reason why Ginny was alive and well was because of all that Draco did to the end? No, the horrifying part was that in the end, Harry's life was taken so hers was safe. Voldemort was right - everyone in her life did die because of her and Draco's obsession with each other. She was as just as guilty as Draco. Ginny had stared at Draco for too long. She saw something move in the corner of her eye but didn't react in time as Voldemort's wand flew into his hand. Sickening dread filled her body knowing that he could have done that at any moment; he simply toyed her with emotions and thoughts, choosing to weaken her before he completely broke her. "I'll give you a choice," Voldemort said, his wand drawing even with hers. Draco lunged forward but Voldemort raised his other hand and simply pressed him back into the wall. Voldemort stared at Ginny. "Tell me it wasn't worth it, that Malfoy wasn't worth every life that was lost for you two, and I will let you go." "Do it, Ginny!" Draco yelled, as he struggled against Voldemort. His face was red as he spat his words. Ginny stared at Draco. She thought about why she loved him, and of the price it entitled to do such a thing. She thought of her loving parents and brothers who she would never see again; she thought of Hermione as the sister she never had, and how in love she was with Ron. She thought of every life that was lost the moment the war started, and questioned how much could have been avoided if she had walked away from Draco at Hogwarts. Ginny thought of how Harry's death had killed hundreds more, and damned the lives of those who survived. It was true; her and Draco were never meant to be. Death and misery only followed them, but yet they continued down the path. And why was that? How could two people love each other so much that not even death could keep them apart? "It wasn't worth it," Ginny finally said. "Nothing can be worth an innocent life." Voldemort grinned but kept his wand on Ginny. "And this is where you two will meet your end," he said. "It was all for nothing." "You're wrong," Ginny said, her wand steady. "It wasn't worth it, but throughout everything we have never stopped loving each other. We've gone against every law, every person, that should have kept us apart. We've gone against magic and trust and every being of ourselves to push through it all, and as wrong as every second of it was, it always came back to us simply loving each other." The grin wiped off Voldemort's face. His eyes glowed red and his wand sparked. But Ginny didn't care anymore. She was done running and hiding. She was ready to fight for what they believed in. "There is nothing you could do to us that would ever keep us apart," she said. "Then so be it," Voldemort hissed as he raised his wand. "No!" Draco screamed and tore himself from Voldemort's hold. As Voldemort set his wand on Ginny, Draco lunged at her and engulfed her body in his arms as the red spark hit him in the back. Ginny screamed when Draco fell to the ground limp. She dropped her knees to the floor next to him and rolled him over, her eyes filling with tears. "No, please no," she said, dropping her wand as well so she could move his head onto her lap. Her tears fell onto his eyes that refused to open. She heard Voldemort walk towards her, but she didn't care. "Draco, please," she whispered as she shook him. Ginny grabbed for her wand but Voldemort got to it first and kicked it away. She gasped as she looked up at Voldemort hovering over them, his wand pointing at her forehead. "I've killed Potter," Voldemort hissed, "almost every member of the Order, every follower of Dumbledore. But you two will be my favorite deaths of all. You thought you could defy this world and my laws; you thought such a thing as love was powerful enough to save you. The only thing it has brought you is death." Ginny stared up at him. She circled her arms around Draco. "In death we will still win." As Voldemort growled and raised his wand, Ginny clutched onto Draco and closed her eyes as a sudden, white light erupted behind her eyelids. Memories seemed to pour into her mind - ones she knew and others Draco had taken away. They say your entire life flashes before your eyes before you die, and only in that did Ginny finally remember every memory, every ounce of love she had for Draco, and of his love in return. It was all worth it. ~*~ Epilogue to come very soon - within the week. Promise. Liz21 --> 25. Epilogue ------------ Epilogue ~*~ Draco was having the oddest dream, though as hard as he tried, he couldn't open his eyes. He was fighting in his dream; he was in a room with candles and shadows, and he was hurt. His forehead was bleeding and his throat felt as if it was squeezed. And there was a woman crying. She screamed and Draco suddenly felt desperate to save her, but he couldn't see her no matter how hard he looked around. He tried to figure out if she sounded familiar; his voice was like a distant memory. He thought for a moment that he saw her, but saw a flash of red before things became foggy. The more he tried to concentrate on the woman in the room, the more his head hurt. But just when Draco thought he would be lost forever, a brilliant white light filled the room. It was so bright, that he squeezed his eyes shut as its warmth overtook him and filled his every pore. "Draco?" The woman's voice spoke to him, clear as day. Draco opened his eyes and tried to find her, but the light was too bright; all he could see was an outline of a woman reaching her hand toward him. He tried to reach for her as well, but the white light was overpowering. Still, Draco struggled against it. He needed to get to that woman, whoever she was. She needed his help. Draco grunted as he used all his strength to push through the light that became a barrier. He was getting closer to the woman; he could make out her red hair through the wall that separated them. With his last ounce of strength, he desperately reached his hand out and touched her fingers. Everything went black. And this time when Draco opened his eyes, he knew he was awake. Draco looked around his room foggily; he was back in Malfoy Manor, with no reflection of ever leaving. He struggled to remember his dream, his mind foggy with pain. There was a woman – she needed him. Draco was struggling to get to her and only just reached her when – “Ginny!” he yelled, sitting up. There was a clatter to his right, and suddenly Snape was at his bedside. "You're awake," Snape said, exasperated. Draco didn’t have time to figure out why Snape was at his bedside, or why he looked worried. Draco tried to push himself out of bed, but his arms felt like jelly, as if he hadn’t used them in some time. To his dismay, Snape tried to push him back into bed. “Be still, Draco. You’ve been out of it for quite awhile –“ But Draco wouldn’t stay still. He pushed Snape’s hands away and struggled to move. “Ginny,” he said. “I need to get to her – she needs my help.” And then Draco saw it again – worry flickered onto Snape’s face for a second. But it was a second too long. Dread filled Draco’s stomach at the look, trying to figure out what was wrong, when his brain seemed to suddenly wake up. Thoughts crashed into his mind of Draco disappearing, and of Ginny following him; Harry Potter was there and alive, but then suddenly he turned into Voldemort and- “Ginny,” he gasped as he summoned every drop of strength he had left. He pushed Snape to the side and jumped out of his bed, almost falling to his knees. But he pushed through the pain of his tired legs and ran across the hallway to Ginny’s room and barged through her door. Draco stopped. Her room was quiet and the curtains were closed around Ginny’s bed. A small fire was lit in the fireplace and kept the room warm, but Draco’s body froze as he stared at her bed. He was suddenly afraid to see what was hiding from him. His breath stilled as he took slow steps toward Ginny’s bed, ignoring his body aching in pain. He heard Snape rush to the doorway, but was thankful that he didn’t come in. Draco paused next to the bed, and with a deep breath, he pulled the curtains away. His heart plummeted at the sight and his knees almost gave out on him. Ginny was lying in the bed, with her eyes closed and her hair smoothed out against the pillowcase. She looked so peaceful, so still – “Is she …” was all Draco could bear to mutter. Snape came closer. “She’s alive, but barely,” he said. Something stirred in Draco that he had never felt; he had spent half his life loving Ginny, and he spent a good part of it doing everything in his power to protect her. He remembered the first time he realized he loved her, and what it would cost to do such a thing. Draco knew, long before it happened, that he would sacrifice everything – his loyalty, his pride, his family and friends, even himself – to save Ginny Weasley from the pains of the war. He lied, he killed; he betrayed everyone and changed everything about him. He did everything in his power to keep Ginny alive and happy. And through it all, it ended with Ginny somehow saving his life and risking her own. Draco’s knees dropped to the side of her bed as he grasped her hand. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this; after everything he had done to ensure her safety, the real world caught up with them and showed him he couldn’t always have his way. Eventually, death would figure out how many lives were taken for Draco and Ginny to be together, and it would find one of them to even the score. And then Draco did something he had never done in his life – he cried. ~*~ Draco spent the next few days sitting next to Ginny’s bed, refusing to take his eyes off her in case she woke up. Snape gave up on trying to get him to rest and eat, and instead had the house elf bring him food, though Draco didn’t touch it. After a week, Snape left with instructions to owl him if anything happened. “I’ve checked her vitals, and she seems fine – there’s nothing broken, and she’s not sick,” Snape said as he looked at Ginny. “She simply just won’t wake up.” The problem was that neither of the men knew what Voldemort did to Ginny; Draco’s last memory was taking a curse for her. Snape said he managed to escape from Malfoy Manor and to the headquarters, where he found Draco and Ginny unconscious next to each other. Snape was able to revive Draco and help him, but Ginny wouldn’t stir. But the real mystery was that Voldemort was nowhere to be seen. News scattered quickly of Voldemort’s disappearance; every Death Eater could feel the separation from their master, and most of them disappeared as well when surviving Order members came out of hiding. Each day, the world reunited and grew stronger against evil, finishing off the final battle. Yet the days grew darker in Malfoy Manor. Draco moved from the chair to sit on the side of Ginny’s bed, and by night time he moved to lie next to her still body. He watched her chest rise and fall in breaths, the only sign that she was still alive. Snape had tried to look into her mind, but was blocked from doing so. But what puzzled Snape was the feeling of the block. “It’s not like the memory block you performed,” Snape said. “It’s as if it transformed into something stronger … bigger …” It was as if, Snape concluded, Ginny was trapped in her own memories. Draco gently stroked Ginny’s cheek. Since Snape said that days ago, Draco sat there, wondering every moment if it was all his fault. Draco knew the consequences of blocking Ginny’s memories; he knew she may have never remembered their love or that if she did, she could have rejected him and hated him forever. He also knew the physical symptoms: the headaches from trying to think too hard about it, or the shock. But all he could think about was the time when Ginny had remembered when Lucius died and she went to Draco, and how she had asked him, when she came to, what he did to her. She knew Draco had did something wrong when he blocked her memories, but he refused to believe it. All he ever wanted to do was protect her and save their love. And now he was paying the price for his selfishness. Ever since his mother’s death, Draco was obsessed with keeping Ginny safe. Each day his side was winning, and each day someone close to Ginny died. She seemed clueless on how many times it could have been her who died as well, and Draco could only worry about the day that he wasn’t there to save her. He had dreamt one night of when Ginny erased Hermione’s memories, and then the idea came to him. But while blocking memories in hopes that they would one day return was difficult enough, to take away select ones was the challenge. Draco felt as if he died the day he cursed Ginny. To know that she would wake up and have only bad memories of him nearly destroyed him; that everything they worked for was one sided. But he was willing to take that for the both of them; he knew he could be strong enough if it would secure her life. Even if she never did love him again, it would be enough just to look at her every day. Draco only moved from the bed when one day, the house elves came to change Ginny’s bed sheets. It was too much to watch one use magic to raise Ginny in the air, where she hung limp. Deciding he needed to stretch his legs, Draco roamed the manor with no destination. It was to his surprise, though, when he ended up in front of his mother’s portrait. He almost didn’t notice until she heard her gasp. His eyes widened and his body jerked; his mother’s voice almost woke him out of his spell. “Draco,” she whispered. “I thought you-“ But she stopped as she stared at him, eyeing his sunken eyes and his dirty clothes. “Is everything all right?” Draco simply stared at his mother. For months he refused to see her portrait; the guilt of knowing she died for him was too much to handle. But suddenly he wished, more than anything, that she could hug him as she did when he was a child; that she could tell him that everything would be all right. “It’s-“ Draco’s voice croaked, but he stopped himself. He was letting his weak emotions get the best of him. How could he even begin to explain about what Ginny Weasley, an enemy, meant to him? Narcissa took a moment. “Is she all right?” Draco felt the fog in his head clear away. “How do you-“ “She came to me the night you were taken,” Narcissa said. “She was terrified but not for herself – for you. Weasley told me that the Dark Lord had you, and she was begging me on how to get to the headquarters to save you.” Narcissa paused. “And then she told me that you loved her.” A new wave of emotions hit Draco. In their secret relationship, it was always Ginny who worried what others would think if they found out the truth. But never once did Draco deal with that anxiety. He never shared his feelings with the few people he was close to. His only real fear, before Voldemort, was of his father, but that disappeared the night of his death. Draco was never worried about others finding out, because he knew he would always take care of it. But knowing that his mother died for the cause … “I’ve figured out enough,” she said. “I understand why, now, that you weren’t at your post. I understand what I ended up dying for.” “It wasn’t supposed to be like that,” Draco said, almost fumbling over his words. He ran a hand through is messy hair. “I was so careful; I had everything planned. Everything was fine until I was ordered to follow her … to kill her. I couldn’t do it. How could I …” “Draco.” Draco paused and looked at his mother. When he expected anger, he saw her smiling. It was a sad smile, but there was no anger that he deserved. “I died for you, and I still don’t regret it,” she said. “If my dying could ensure your happiness with the woman you love, no matter who she is … how could I deny my only child that? Now tell me, what is wrong?” It took Draco a moment to speak; his mother had always shown him love that his father refused to. But he was so certain that she would hate him forever if she had found out the truth of who her son really is. “Ginny saved me,” Draco finally said. “But she won’t wake up. And we don’t know how it happened or what the counter curse is …” Narcissa was quiet as she thought. Draco knew it was pointless in asking for help. There was nothing that could be done; Ginny would forever sleep as Draco lived with knowing he only wanted to die without her. But then Narcissa’s eyes widened. “My necklace - the green and silver one that I left in my will for you. Do you know where it is?” Draco’s eyes widened as well. He remembered the necklace too well; he was curious on why his mother left it for him, but refused to ask her himself. He wanted to pitch it, but thought of how lovely it would have looked on Ginny. That’s why he checked it for curses before- “But it’s cursed,” Draco said. “Ginny touched it and she went into this fit-“ But Narcissa didn’t look surprised. Instead she narrowed her eyes at Draco. “You performed some sort of curse on Weasley, didn’t you? I remember the first time she came to my portrait … how unnerved and confused she looked.” Draco hesitated, but the truth was already out. “I blocked her memories, to make her forget about us,” he said. “It … it was the only way to secure her safety.” “Well that’s it then,” Narcissa said. “That isn’t just a necklace, Draco. It’s meant to fight curses. It’s supposed to drain the wearer of their curse. If Ginny was cursed and touched it, then the necklace was only reacting to her.” Draco’s heart began to race, but he refused to be hopeful. “But it hurt her,” Draco said. “She passed out and-“ “It’s not a gentle process,” Narcissa said. “It’s meant to be worn as a shield, so to wear it after being cursed … takes a different effective. But if you had kept it on her, by time your block would have been erased. If anything, just that one touch may have opened a door to her memories. Does she remember, Draco?” Draco paused. Snape had said that the block around her mind looked like the one Draco performed, but it morphed slightly … Draco lunged forward and hit the brick, opening up the wall behind his mother’s portrait. But before he ran down the secret passageway, he said, “Thank you, mother. For everything.” Before she could respond, he bolted past the library door and up the stairs. He didn’t stop until he was in his study and at his desk. Draco grabbed his wand at pointed underneath is desk while saying, “Alohamora.” A hidden drawer popped open, and in it was the necklace. Draco stared at the green and silver gems, and then at the center one that was engraved “G.W.” Was this the necklace’s way of claiming Ginny’s curse? Was this small thing, something that has been in his manor for ages, the answer to the problem? Draco grabbed the necklace and tried to not run to Ginny’s room. He had to prepare himself for heartbreak; he had to know that if this didn’t work, he would find another way. He had to find another way to wake Ginny up. Draco found Ginny back on her bed, with no house elves in sight. He carefully sat down next to her, and with his free hand he stroked her hair. He wanted to tell her that he was there to help, that he didn’t know if it would work or hurt, but Draco’s heart felt like it was pulsating in his throat. Draco took a deep breath and fastened the necklace around Ginny’s neck. He thought the moment it touched her skin that Ginny would start to shake or scream as she did when she touched it months ago. But she did neither. Draco’s heart sank as he watched her lay there with no movement. He told himself not to cry as he bent over to take the necklace off, but when he touched the gems it burned his hand. It was then that he noticed that something was happening. Each green gem slowly turned from green to red, as if it was filling each bead with something … as if it was draining the curse out of Ginny’s body. Time slowed as he watched the last green gem turn to red. And then- “Draco?” Draco’s breath left him as his eyes darted to Ginny’s face. Her eyelids fluttered open and she rubbed her eyes, as if she was just waking up from a long nap. And then Draco laughed as he took Ginny into his arms and hugged her. He laughed in the first time in what seemed forever – from a time that there were no worries, and all he had in life was the only thing he needed: Ginny. Ginny squealed that she couldn’t breathe, and was trying to ask him what all the fuss was about but was stopped when Draco kissed her lips, and told her over and over again that everything was all right. Ginny ended up having to calm Draco down instead of the other way around. Draco tried to figure out when their roles reversed. Was it the night that Ginny had killed Flint for him? Or was she always so powerful, but he was too desperate to protect her that he never noticed? “Do you remember what happened?” Draco said once he put himself back together. “All I remember is getting hit with a spell, but Snape said all I did was lose consciousness for awhile.” Ginny bit her bottom lip in thought. “I do remember,” Ginny said. “I remember everything. Voldemort hit you, and I thought you … I thought you died. And I was holding you, not fearing death because I knew I would have you. And just when I thought it was really the end, I … Draco I just remembered everything. I don’t know how it happened. This white light came pouring out on my mind and just every single memory was unblocked.” The white light – Draco remembered seeing that in his dream. “But how did that save us from the Dark Lord?” Draco asked. It was awhile before Ginny spoke, deep in thought. “Your mother told me that the only power we had against Voldemort was our love. That’s how Harry survived as a baby – his mother protected him. But I think … I don’t think it was us. I think it was the memory block you put on me. Since I’ve been here, whenever I would remember something, that white light would explode a little, showing me what I was forgetting. And when I thought it was about to end, it completely broke free, the white light erupted and every single memory of you ever loving me poured through me.” Ginny stopped. “I think it was the memory of something so strong, that not even death could take it away.” They were both silent. Draco didn’t want to believe that him cursing her and saved them; it was just too impossible. “But what happened to you after?” Draco said. “Ginny, you were in a coma for weeks …” Ginny’s eyes widened. “That long?” Ginny paused. “I was dreaming of the memories you blocked. It’s like I was stuck in everything I remembered … only I got to experience it by reliving it. Whatever Voldemort tried to curse me with, I think that white light held it off long enough until my memories were pushed back in.” Draco just stared at her. None of what she said made sense but after everything they’ve been through, he knew anything was possible. “So you remember everything now?” Draco asked, his hand brushing Ginny’s cheek. When tears filled Ginny’s eyes and she smiled, he knew her answer was yes. He knew that everything he sacrificed was worth it now that Ginny – his Ginny – was back in his arms. But he still hesitated. Now that she knew everything about him – who he really was – he wondered how she looked at him. She knew his responsibility in Harry’s death, and her loved ones that he killed. “Do you regret it?” Draco asked, his eyes glancing down to the necklace. “Now that you see it all, now that you know all of my secrets … do you regret it?” Do you hate me, he wanted to ask. He remembered, clear as day, that she said she loved him. But that was before she found out about Harry … that was before she knew what a monster Draco could really be. “I want to,” Ginny whispered. “I want to for the guilt I feel about those who didn’t survive, for those I miss. But I know, deep down, that you tried everything in your power to have it not turn out like this. I know that though my brother’s would have ripped you apart for being with me, you would have wanted them to live for my sake. And for Harry …” Ginny paused. “Harry told me himself that apart of war was dying and making sacrifices. I think the only way I could live with knowing how he died is that somehow, someway, we finished the job for him. It’s probably the most selfish thing I could say, but I’ve been missing my past for long enough to know there’s nothing you can do to change it. That you need to move on, and hope that you do it right the next time.” Ginny moved hair out of Draco’s eyes, sending shivers down his spine. “I want to make new memories with you, Draco. I want there to be stronger memories that will help heal the painful ones.” Draco nodded as he took her hand and kissed it. “I promised you we’d make it work. And we will.” Ginny leaned forward and kissed Draco lightly. “I love you, Draco,” she said against his lips. “And nothing will ever make me forget that.” Draco pressed his lips against Ginny’s as his hand closed the bed curtains, enclosing them in their love together. ~*~ The end. Ahh endings are always so corny. But this is the end. I want to thank everyone for being so patient – it took me about four years to write this story. I just can’t believe it’s over. I think I tied everything up; if you have any questions, let me know. I also may go back and for fun point out all the things I wrote about that were clues to Draco and Ginny’s big secret. Or you could read the story again and search for them yourself ;) I’ve often toyed with the idea of writing a story from Draco’s perspective from their years at Hogwarts … would be fun to write, only I about used half of it as memories in this one. I did enjoy writing the first and last paragraph from his point of view. Thanks again to everyone. I hope, after a bit of a break, to write my own novel after this. Much love, Liz21