Blue-Eyed Angel
Chapter Ten
Reamann, after pacing his office for twenty minutes and getting no reply from the notes he sent down to Draco, was fed up and decided to go down to see him. He had thought that Draco would have the report ready and waiting for him by the time he got back from his lunch, but thinking maybe he was expecting too much from him, had given Draco some extra time. He appreciated all that Draco did for him, but now with his report nearly due and his meeting pending, he really could not wait any longer.
He couldn't imagine what was taking Draco so long. Was it because he had actually gone to the scene that he had so much more to say in the report and summary, that it would take that much longer to write up?
Why didn't Draco just reply to one of his notes saying as much if that were the case?
He was not sure, but he was about to find out.
Reamann kept an eye open for any notes flying overhead as he made his way down, hoping maybe to intercept Draco's message on its way up before he got to the Hall, but there were none. A few were heading towards the Hall, but none in response.
It wasn't until he was opening the heavy door with its groaning hinges (notes passing in through the small carved opening in the wall above the door) did he hear the voices and the sounds of several people moving around from inside.
"Now, Mr. Malfoy, you really don't want us to lose our patience do you?" a man with a superior and condescending accent that could rival Draco's drawled. Reamann lingered in the doorway, taking in the scene before him.
Draco was standing just to the left of his desk, arms hugging himself tight in a vulnerably angry sort of way, lips pursed together in an irate yet upset way, like someone was doing something terribly and personally insulting to him.
There were four additional men in the room with him, and were the obvious cause of Draco's mood.
One stood at Draco's back looking imposing, two riffled through Draco's desk haphazardly, and standing to the right was the one that had evidently spoken. Mr. Coderdale stood at a distance beyond the desks, nearly amongst the shelves, looking conflicted and helpless as he too watched the scene before him.
When the door opened everyone's attention went to Reamann except Draco's whose head dropped and long hair draped across it.
"Who do we have here?" the man that had spoken before asked. Reamann vaguely recognized him. He was an Auror from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and he had seen him before a few times. He was slender built but tall, with solid black and shining hair. His goatee was purely villainous and his crisp black robes with the pinstripe vest made him look all the more intimidating.
"Ah, Mr. Rossiter, so good of you to join us," he said, recognizing Reamann at last, still as condescending as before.
"Who are you?" he asked, trying not to sound confrontational as he let the door slowly close behind him.
"Sebastian Aurum," he said, holding out his leather gloved hand to Reamann to shake. "The department send you down?" he asked, Reamann striding over closer to shake his outstretched hand once firmly. He then stepped back to look the man over again. He was pale, and angular, with a strong face that was only complemented by the mustache and goatee. His eyes were so dark they almost looked black from a distance but up close Reamann could see they were actually blue. He stood very proud, like he was happy about something. Reamann disliked him on sight.
"No," he said, looking over at Draco but Draco still avoiding his gaze.
"I was just assigned to this case myself, so I suppose this makes us partners of sorts now," he continued on crisply.
"What are you doing down here?" Reamann asked. Draco made very strong, purposeful eye contact through his hair for only a moment, telling Reamann to come to him without giving anything away with his body.
"Why, investigating the case, of course," Sebastian said with a satisfied grin, like he knew something Reamann didn't.
"If you are looking for texts, I think you are going about it the wrong way," Reamann commented, watching as Draco's things were looked through in a very disrespectful manner.
"No, no, I'm not here for texts. I'm investigating our first and only suspect."
"Who, Malfoy?" Reamann asked in surprise and outrage, coming to stand very close to Draco without making it apparent that Draco had signaled him over.
"I do not know of any other way a hair of Draco Malfoy's would end up at a crime scene, unless he was there," the man said with a self-satisfied smile.
"You found one of Dr-Malfoy's hairs at the scene?" Reamann asked, feeling his stomach drop. He was mentally cursing himself dizzy. Draco was in a whole lot of trouble, and it was his fault wasn't it. Obviously Draco had shed a hair while in Ron-form, but the hair had shifted back to being a Draco hair after an hour. They had found evidence to link Draco to the case only because Reamann had taken him there. Reamann couldn't admit to that though, not without getting them both in very serious trouble, and he felt sick to his stomach.
"Maybe someone planted it," Draco scathed, lips sourly pursed together still. Reamann looked over at him and it took all of his self control not to gape at him. Draco wasn't ratting him out, not even to save himself? He was not explaining how the hair had gotten there, not that he had done it but that Reamann had been using him to write his reports and had used a Polyjuice Potion to sneak him onto the scene? Draco would still get in trouble in the end, either way, but he was not bringing him, Reamann, down with him? Reamann was unbelievably thankful, but surprised and shocked that Malfoy would not do all in his power to save his own skin or spread the blame around.
Draco was taking the fall for him?
Reamann felt sick again.
"Still harping on about such fallacies, Malfoy?"
"They are not fallacies, the Ministry did all in their power to ensure I was sent to Azkaban…"
"You were sent because you failed under the influence of Veritaserum to preserve your innocence," he cut off with a harsh smile. "The Ministry did not set you up; you were asked very simple and straightforward questions and you were forced to tell the truth. It was only unfortunate for you that the truth was that you had tried to kill Dumbledore, and that you had worked for the Dark Lord, and that you had voluntarily joined his Death Eaters. You bear the Dark Mark and you have no one to blame but yourself, Malfoy, for why you wound up in Azkaban." He then continued on darkly, "and know this: if I had been in charge of your sentencing, you would have not gotten that slap-on-the-wrist term," he said, voice harsh, eyes hateful.
Draco looked sour. Reamann glanced over at him while standing close, and Draco slipped something down out of his sleeve into his hand where he then passed it to Reamann subtly. Reamann closed his hand around it slowly so as not to draw attention to the exchange and put his hand in his pocket immediately so he could feel around and try to determine what it was Draco have given him. It was a thickly folded piece of parchment. It must have been the report he had been writing, something terribly incriminating for both of them if it had been found. He had managed to hide it, and now Reamann had it. Draco made lingering eye contact again and Reamann understood.
"Malfoy didn't do this," he said positively.
"Really? And you know this how?" Sebastian asked, looking amused as ever, but this time at Reamann's expense, like Reamann was a child who had just said something cute amongst the adults. "You are a translator our department is borrowing. You do not solve cases, you do not decipher clues, you work with Muggles," he said, if possible, sounding even more condescending than before. "It is up to me and the rest of the Department of Aurors to determine Malfoy's innocence, using our evidence."
"Sectumsempra was used, and Draco cannot cast magic," he said fiercely, cutting Sebastian off. Draco was very wisely staying quiet and withdrawn from the conversation. He seemed embarrassed, but he was not about to jump to his own defense and give up Reamann, so Reamann had to repay him by coming to his defense any way he could.
"He could have used someone else's wand."
"You know as well as I do the Ministry is keeping close watch on him. They would know if he cast a spell, regardless of whose wand he used," Reamann said, grateful now that he and Draco had had their little talk in the bathroom. Draco still hated that he had been so honest with Reamann, but that was paying off surprisingly well for him. He was not about to turn over a new leaf nor had he learned any kind of "lesson" or anything, but it was a nice change from what he was normally used to.
He still dreaded the point when Reamann would use such information against him and stab him in the back. Draco had come to expect such things from all people.
"You think so do you?"
"I know so."
"Then maybe you can explain to me how one of his pretty little hairs got on my scene?" he asked, still looking amused and only pissing Reamann off further. Draco had a way of making people feel like they were lower than him with his attitude despite how meager his standard of living was now, but this Sebastian had a way of making him feel stupid and Reamann really hated that. Draco at least waited for you to say something stupid before he made you feel dumb for it.
"I come down here often for texts and have spent time with Malfoy here. The hair could have been on me and I could have left it there," he said, trying to come up with a believable lie off the top of his head, something he was not good at. Draco was, however, and the sideways look he gave him was some indication of how bad the lie had been.
"It was a white hair longer than my arm, not something that one would overlook easily when it's clinging to them," he said, clearly not buying into the lie.
"Get some Veritaserum and ask him where he was in the timeframe of the attack. I can guarantee you he will answer something other than killing a Muggle in a park," he said confidently. He was not sure what Draco had been up to when the attack had happened, but whatever it was, it was better than killing Muggles, for sure.
"I don't know, Draco has never been very good at maintaining his innocence under Veritaserum," he mocked and Draco's eyes darkened in a hostile way. Sebastian laughed out loud at Draco's silent threat and looked over to the desk to see Draco's gift from Ginny.
"Oh," he said, reaching down, "don't mind if I do," he said with a smile, grabbing one of Draco's sweets, Draco's gaze only intensifying. "We will get to the bottom of this Malfoy. You were at that scene and I intend to find out why. Until then, watch yourself, because we will be watching you," Sebastian warned, taking a bite of the sponge candy, signaling to the other wizards in the room to give up their search and leave with him. Draco watched them leave with arms still crossed.
"I really hate that man," Draco muttered at last, his hair still hanging down in front of his face partially.
"You know him?" Reamann asked, looking back at the door that was already closed.
"He likes to think of himself as some Minister of Magic in the making and enjoys busting my balls. He fought damn hard to prevent my probation and he has been bitter ever since I got out. He has made it a point to hassle me whenever an opportunity presents itself," he said, Coderdale joining them. "I wouldn't be surprised if that sod planted one my hairs at the scene. That's the kind of sleazy thing he would do."
"But he didn't plant your hair there, it probably…" Reamann started but Draco shot him a glare to shut him up as Coderdale looked questioningly at both of them.
"Draco, what's going on?" Coderdale asked. Draco just tucked his hair behid his ear, moved over to his desk, and searched through the mess to find parchment and a damaged quill. He then moved around to Coderdale's desk for a surface to write on and an unbroken inkwell.
"Draco?" Reamann asked.
"I need to send an owl to my mother who is home right now with my children. The Ministry is undoubtedly either there, or on their way over there, to toss my place and I don't want my children home when that happens. I don't need them scared," he said, sounding angry and rightfully so. He didn't mention that he didn't want Minisrty Wizards showing up at his pad and discovering his children. Few knew about them and he liked keeping it that way. He also wasn't really ready to deal with Reamann yet. Ginny had only been gone for an hour and he was still trying to get his mind in order.
"Is there anything I can do?" Reamann offered, Coderdale nodding readily, wishing to do the same. Draco just shook his head before calling for his ghost-faced Barn Owl to swoop down from somewhere out of the dark ceiling. Draco attached his letter to the owl and allowed it to rest on his forearm as he walked it over to the door and sent it on its way, up and out of the Ministry to find its way home.
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"I feel just awful," Reamann said to Ginny later that night as they lay in bed. He could not sleep, and she was kept awake by her own guilt and his story. He told her about his afternoon and the Aurors suspecting Draco, but not how the hair really had ended up at the scene or how guilty he felt about the trouble Draco was in simply because he refused to rat him out to save himself.
Ginny had listened but did not tell Reamann about her afternoon with Draco.
She was left so conflicted over it that she could not even look Reamann in the eyes, and at a time when he so badly needed comfort from her.
"It's not fair, really. The Ministry still bullies him," she said, angry.
"That Sebastian prat said that Draco had failed under Veritaserum. I read about that, and it seemed rather straightforward. How can he be innocent when he confessed to such things under the most powerful truth potion known?" he asked. Ginny crossed her arms tight across her chest, glaring at her knees that were covered by the blankets.
"You don't believe him innocent?" she accused.
"No, I mean, no I believe him innocent, I swear," he assured, feeling conflicted because he honestly was not sure about Draco.
Ginny sighed as though letting out some of her anger so she could speak without biting Reamann's head off. She was not mad at him, she shouldn't snap at him.
"The Ministry wanted Draco to be guilty, and he could only answer their questions `yes' or `no' so they only asked him the things that would land him in Azkaban. Yes, he had tried to kill Dumbledore, but in the end he just couldn't do it and joined our side. Yes, he had gotten the Dark Mark, but not because he wanted to be a Death Eater. Yes, he served the Dark Lord, but because he was a double agent and needed to maintain appearances. They did not give him a chance to explain himself or his motives. They just took his answers and within twenty minutes of deliberating they found him guilty. He was sentenced three days later. No one is run through a trial and sentencing that quick unless people already have it set in their minds whether or not that person is guilty," she said bitterly.
"What about appeals?" he asked.
"Denied every time. He had no one to defend him," she said, sounding ready to cry at the last. She wished she had known what was happening; she wished she could have been there to defend him. She could have saved him, she should have saved him. After the war she had been whisked away to recover from all the hysteria. She and Harry had been off, secluded, able to deal with all that happened in private, only to find out later what had been happening back home, only after it was too late to help.
"That's just terrible," Reamann said.
"And the Ministry, even after all that Harry has done to reform it for the better, still picks on Draco and the others that were sent away to Azkaban. It's not fair, and it's not right," she said, wishing Hermione and Ron had known about Draco's final turn for good at the time.
Like she had told Draco during their lunch, Hermione would not have handed him over to the Aurors in the first place if she had known or would have, at the very least, been able to defend him in the trial. But, the only ones other than Harry or Ginny that knew the truth about Draco's final turn were the Death Eaters captured, and they certainly weren't about to help Draco out.
"I need to make this up to him, somehow," Reamann said, Ginny only half listening, her mind miles away, thinking about Draco, that night they spent together so many years ago, and the kisses they had now shared. Kisses. Three kisses. Not just little kisses either, but full-blown snogging. What was she going to do?
What had she been thinking?
Why had she even bought him the sweets in the first place when she knew it would be taken the wrong way?
It was just an innocent gift…but why was she not so sure?
Why does he make her brain get all fuzzy whenever she is around him?
Why does he make her body prickly and tight with shivers running down her spine when he gets close?
Why does he keep kissing her, and why does she keep letting him?
She needed to talk to him, and this time she was not going to let herself get distracted by his lips, or his eyes, or his scent…
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It was the afternoon before the final battle, the morning after the full moon, and fighting was already ensuing. From daybreak the Order had fought the Death Eaters. Casualties on both sides were high, and morale was slipping, but still they raged on, neither to be the side that backed down first.
Draco stood by the Order, Hermione and Ginny to his back. Luna and Neville had been with them, but not anymore. Luna was dead, and Neville's state was unknown at that point.
"We can't beat them," Hermione shouted, throwing hexes at the werewolves but accomplishing very little. Werewolves were too powerful a magical creature to be easily harmed while transformed. It was why the Dark Lord had called them to join his side and why he had forced their change to linger even after the moon has fallen from the sky with dawn. His powerful and ancient dark magic that seeped forth from his castle in the distance trapped the lesser wolves, the Order having not expected to have to deal with the wolves after daybreak and were now at a loss of what to do. The Giants were defeated, and the Dementors not yet unleashed, but the Death Eaters and Werewolves were still out in force and everyone was exhausted.
"There has to be a way," Ginny called, sending her own hex around the tree to the Werewolf that was fast approaching. Draco had yet to send a spell at anyone, on either side.
"No ideas are coming to me, and they are coming up on us, fast," Hermione said, panic setting in as the wolves neared. What would be worse, being torn apart by them, or simply mauled and left alive to then suffer the disease?
"Draco? Any ideas?" Ginny called. She waited for a response but got none. Looking over at him she saw Draco panting at the base of the tree, skin shining with sweat, hands balled into tight fists. He had looked ill since he had reappeared that morning, and he had managed to get progressively worse as the morning drew long and the afternoons sun cast high. As the sun now waned, drawing the shadows of the trees long, he looked ready to collapse.
"Draco?" Hermione asked, calling across the trees and distance between them.
"I'm awright," he breathed, not sounding alright in the least.
"What's wrong?" Ginny asked, neither of the girls knowing of Draco's condition yet or how much of a struggle it had been for him to even shift back that morning, let alone what it took for him not to shift back right then with the Dark Lord's influence sweeping across the hollow.
"Nothing…nothing," he panted. "Anyone who has survived has gone down that way, towards the creek. We don't have any other options, or time to debate it, so I would suggest going that way," he said, swallowing hard the vomit that was burning at the back of his throat.
"Come on then," Hermione said, grabbing Ginny's hand and pulling her along, past Draco, down towards the creek. Draco said it was safe, and it couldn't be any worse than being in the direct path of the wolves, so she took Draco's word for it.
Draco, some paces behind and looking unsteady, slid down the steep, snowy embankment towards the icy water. He was taking his time, and the reason why was apparent once the girls came around the bend.
"You son-of-a-!" Hermione screamed before she was silenced by a charm. Ginny let out a scream of her own before she too was gagged and tied up. Draco approached slowly, figurative tail between his legs as he passed the two struggling girls as they glared at him.
"Very good, Draco. Just two of the little ones, but excellent bait for Potter. His Mudblood best friend and his girlfriend," the Death Eater before them praised, looking pleased as his partial mask would allow them to see. Draco sloshed through the ankle deep ice water hugging his arms and looking uncomfortable. Hermione was making angry sounds through the gag that was magically tied in place.
"Oh, oh, what? Is there something you would like to say to Mr. Malfoy, my dear?" the Death Eater teased, Draco panting at his back, looking ill.
The man, using Hermione's own wand, removed the gag only and she immediately went off on Draco.
"We trusted you! We believed you when you said you did not truly want to be a Death Eater! We listened to your sob-story and took pity on you, you bastard!" she screamed at him, Draco's eyes locking with her because he knew if he looked away it would be seen as a weakness, on both sides.
"You stupid little Mudblood. Don't you know?" the Death Eater laughed, grabbing Draco by the arm and shoving up his sleeve to reveal his Dark Mark and scars, "The Dark Mark can only be given to the willing. Draco got his mark after he turned seventeen. That was after he had failed in killing Dumbledore. You foolish girl," he laughed, Draco standing there awkwardly with his bare arm being held out to Hermione and Ginny who now too was making angry sounds while she was still gagged. They could see the Mark and were thankfully too angry to acknowledge anything but that, not even the long vertical gash that ran up his forearm, barely healed.
"Take them up to the castle for our Lord to do with as he pleases. Take the boy with you. It looks like his control won't last much longer."
Ginny was tossed over one Death Eater's shoulder, and Hermione was gagged once again and pushed along, her wand pointed at her back. They were led across the hollow and up a secret, or just well hidden, passage to the castle that stood dark and looming above them despite the cheery and bright winter sun of the late afternoon. Fighting could still be heard and the growling and howling of the werewolves only seemed to make Draco look dizzier.
"I think we are going to have to sedate the boy," the Death Eater that was carrying Ginny said over his shoulder to the one at Hermione's back.
"Boy, if you start to shift on us we will jinx you into a coma. We don't want your disease," he warned, Hermione looking over at Draco with shocked eyes. Draco had stopped climbing the stairs to lean against the stone wall and pant, his hair wet from sweat despite the cold.
"Keep moving, the Dark Lord is the only one that can stop his spell from affecting you," the first Death Eater said, taking his hand off Ginny's back for a moment to grab Draco by the shoulder and turn him. With a rough push he encouraged him up the stairs, Ginny still kicking. Draco stumbled onto his hands and knees as he climbed after the shove but managed to right himself and ascend properly, slowly, his body weak.
The rooftop of the old castle was crumbling and covered in snow. There were signs that in the spring and summer moss covered a great deal of stone, but right then everything was harsh and grey, white snow clinging in spots, ice in others. Lord Voldemort stood near the roof's edge, looking over the scene in the hollow below, looking pleased. The fighting was in the woods, but he was able to see the flashes of spells and hear the distant shouting. He stood there, enjoying it like some enjoyed listening to the birds in the trees, and smiled. His smile was crooked and all wrong on his snake-like face.
"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, I see you have returned to me, unchanged and not with Potter, but two of his little friends. I can't say I'm proud, but I am pleased," he said, folding his hands behind his back while turning to look at the two young women before him. Ginny and Hermione were gagged and struggling, scared now more than angry like before. Now, in the presence of the Dark Lord, they felt powerless and small.
"Please, my Lord…your spell…" Draco gasped, falling to his knees while holding his stomach, panting and wheezing. Voldemort looked amused.
"You surprise me, littlest of the Malfoys. I had honestly expected you remain in your shift, yet you fought it to change back and have not succumbed to it all this time? I am impressed, to say the least," he said, looking down at Draco, Ginny and Hermione looking too, their shocked realization that Draco was most definitely a werewolf overriding their fear for the moment.
"Not a Lesser-wolf, are you?" he asked. Draco just sobbed, the pain becoming too great. He was a young wolf, but he had remarkably been able to successfully fight the change. Draco knew he was a Greater-wolf having faced Greyback already and been told as much, but he was still new. He did not have the skill and control Greyback had had…he had his stubborn Malfoy will, but that was not enough. He could not fight the change anymore.
"I suppose, since you returned to me with these two lovely gifts, I should reward you," he smiled, pulling his right arm out from behind him to reveal his long wand. Voldemort pointed its tip at Draco and Draco felt his heart stop for a moment, not knowing if the Dark Lord would help him, or just kill him right on the spot. One could never tell with the Dark Lord what his intentions were.
Without muttering his incantation the Dark Lord eased the pressure Draco was feeling. Draco took a gasping breath of relief as he fought not to collapse, no longer feeling like he was on the painful verge of shifting.
"That better?" he asked in a babying voice.
"Yes, my Lord, thank you," Draco said, practically groveling at Voldemort's feet, head down while still on his knees. The Dark Lord reached down and Draco, knowing what was expected of him, reached up and gripped the man's hand. Draco was pulled over to Voldemort's legs while he was still crouching where he was then encouraged to just sit as Voldemort stroked his hair, like Draco was a dog. The girls looked on and Draco looked away, not wanting to see what they were thinking; the looks on their faces.
The Dark Lord stroked Draco's head contently, smiling at his new captives.
"Didn't know Draco here was a wolf, did you?" he asked, Draco's eyes darkening as he sat there, practically clinging to the man's left leg, like the Dark Lord wanted.
Hermione and Ginny made some noises and Voldemort laughed, grabbing Draco's hair in a fist. Draco winced but made no sound.
"Your services are no longer needed at the moment, littlest of the Malfoys," he said, releasing Draco's hair from his tight grip and petting it again, as though soothing the pain he had just caused.
Draco, crouching on his hands and knees, ready to scurry away, dared an apologetic glance at Hermione and Ginny before fleeing back the way they had come, down the stairs, the door closing behind him. He was thankful to have been dismissed by the Dark Lord. That meant he could leave, the Dark Lord sending a searing pain through his Dark Mark if he needed him again.
"Now," Voldemort said, clearly speaking to Ginny and Hermione even though he was not even facing them. "What to do with you two."
Hermione made an angry sound at him.
"A temper this one has, and this one," he said, looking over to Ginny then. "Quite the spunky attitude I get from her, in those eyes there is such spirit," he whispered teasingly. "Harry Potter cares for both of you, making you two excellent bait, but," he said, looking mockingly sad, "I really don't need both of you," he said, looking at the two of them, back and forth between them, like he was trying to decide something. "Which witch should I keep? The filthy little Mudblood, or the disgraceful Blood-Traitor?" he asked the three Death Eaters on the roof that were making encouraging and amused murmurs.
Hermione mumbled something into her gag and the Dark Lord smiled.
"Yes, dear?" he asked, flicking his wand to remove her gag in a puff of blackish smoke.
"You will not win this!" she shouted.
"Oh, but I already have," he laughed. "Look, and listen, to the fighting below. Tell me who is winning."
"You have not met Harry yet. Come face to face with him and you will fail!"
"You have such confidence in that boy?"
"As confident as you are scared," she snapped back.
"Well, I now know which one I'm going to kill and send back to Mr. Potter in pieces," Voldemort scathed, looking livid.
Hermione looked over at Ginny with a meaningful glance that Ginny only had enough time to register as being significant before there was a loud blast. The Dark Lord was taken by surprise by it, and the Death Eaters too. Ginny was thrown aside, the binding spells placed on her breaking and leaving her free as she lay there.
When the smoke cleared, Hermione had her wand back from the unconscious Death Eater that had bound them and she was sending hexes at Voldemort who was blocking them and sending them off in other directions.
"Filthy Mudblood!" he shouted. Ginny had forgotten the potions Draco had given them hours before while down in the woods, saying to only break the glass vials so that they mixed as a last resort. Ginny had gotten the impression that they were suicide potions, meant to take out themselves as well as those around them when they were left without any more options, but she had lost faith in them when Draco had handed them over to his Dark Lord. It looked like Hermione either recognized the concoctions, or had felt there was nothing to lose in trying them. Now she was free, and Ginny was too. Maybe they would actually manage to escape!
Ginny jumped to her feet and grabbed her wand from the Death Eater that Hermione had knocked out with the explosion. She hexed the Death Eater that was rushing her and he screamed as Bat-Bogeys attacked his face, keeping him from being able to grab her.
"Stop her!" Voldemort screamed, casting a harsh spell at Hermione that she only just managed to block.
The only other remaining Death Eater rushed Ginny and she tried to raise her wand to cast another spell but didn't have a chance. In the time it took her brain to think of a spell and have her wand poised, the man had crashed into her, knocking her off balance and nearly sending her wand out of her hand. Realizing how close she had come to losing her wand, Ginny gripped it tight like it was all that mattered in the world at that moment. Honestly, that was not far from the truth.
Staggering, she prevented herself from falling and she spun around while her hair flew in her face in a cold rush of winter wind from over the edge of the rooftop. She was disoriented enough to not block the red jet of harsh light that hit her in the chest. Ginny took it full on and it knocked her breath out like a Bludger to the ribs. Her whole body was picked up and thrown backwards. Her hip cracked against the low wall of the rooftop and she only just managed not to fall.
"Ahh!" she screamed, her hip taking the full force of the impact.
Ginny looked up, a stone from the wall she was leaning on shifting and falling, nearly sending her over the edge with it.
The Death Eater raised his wand to cast another spell and Ginny raised hers to counter it when the man just rushed her, the wall crumbling at Ginny's back and causing her to fall with only a little added shove from the man.
Ginny screamed, high and long as she felt herself falling, stones all around her as they plummeted towards the frozen hollow below. Her wand was still clutched tightly in her hand but she could not think of a spell to save her. Her mind was numb with fear as the snow and rock covered ground drew closer.
That was when she felt like someone had slugged her in the gut.
With an "umph!" she was suddenly no longer falling but coasting up away from the ground. Looking down there was an arm around her waist, looking over her shoulder Ginny saw whom that arm belonged to. A woman, a woman she did not know. They were on a broom, and they were flying away from the castle at breakneck speed.
"What…who are you," she managed to shout over the whistling wind in their ears, her hair whipping back away from her face, the woman's attention forward with such concentration it almost looked like she was trying to ignore Ginny.
Ginny did not want to come across as ungrateful or anything since the woman had saved her life, but she had no idea who she was or where she was taking her.
The woman flew her broom over the trees, away from the castle and the hollow, to land some distance away. It was late afternoon by then and the sun was setting, it getting so dark so early those cold winter days.
Ginny was roughly released from the woman's grip as she slowed and leveled off near the ground. Ginny stumbled, running as she tried to prevent herself from falling, the woman gliding a few feet more before dismounting from her broom.
"Who…who are you?" Ginny asked again, hugging herself in the cold, her hand still tight around her wand, not feeling as though she could trust the woman for some reason.
The woman looked right at Ginny for a moment but said nothing. She drew a wand from inside her robes and Ginny immediately pointed hers, ready for anything. The woman paid her no mind and instead just cast a spell that made blue flames dance above the snow, instantly warm and burning bright.
Ginny lowered her wand as the woman busied herself, manifesting some supplies, like some bedding that had been shrunken down and tucked away in her pockets, and some food that she started to prepare over the fire. They were at the base of a large dark tree, near the edge of the woods, the castle still able to be seen in the distance. They must have been two or three miles away then, but the broom ride had been so quick. The trees had blurred past.
Ginny realized the woman wasn't going to answer her questions, and got the impression with how she had saved her life and was now preparing food for two, she wasn't going to hurt her. Was the woman one of the promised Aurors? She didn't recognize her, but she was in black robes and had a wand, and had helped her…that was the only conclusion she could come to. Ginny cleared away some of the standing snow from the ground with her wand so there was space to sit on the hard, frozen ground, dry now thanks to wonderful, wonderful, magic.
The woman, after some time, made a small groaning noise and set the tea kettle down. Ginny looked over at her with concern, wondering if she asked her if she was alright that a question would finally warrant an answer. The woman turned away and covered her face, something seemingly moving under her robes, like something shifting.
"Are you…are you okay?" Ginny finally asked after the woman fell to her knees and remained there for a moment, her breathing evening out at last, head out of view as it rested on the ground so that all Ginny could see was a black lump of robes from behind.
"I'm fine, Weasley." Draco's voice came drifting from the robes, shocking Ginny silent and still. She could not move as Draco slowly pushed up from the ground and straightened, his blond hair hanging in his eyes slightly, robes a little askew on his frame. He took a deep breath and ran both his hands through his shoulder-length hair, pushing it back from his face to look instantly more put together and collected.
"Malfoy?" she shouted, suddenly pointing her wand at him, unable to decide what jinx or hex she wanted to use on him first.
"Now, Weasley, is that any way to treat the one who just saved your life?" he asked calmly, not pulling his wand to defend himself, not sounding angry. He stood there calmly, looking down Ginny's wand to her face.
"You two-timing son-of-a-bitch," she snarled.
"I had to do what I had to do, Weasley, you must understand that."
"You sold us out!"
"Because I had to, to maintain appearances," he said, finally adding a little emotion to his bland voice. "The Dark Lord doesn't trust me because he thinks I'm weak and I have failed him in the past. He doesn't trust me because of my Occlumency. Because of that I have to constantly demonstrate my loyalties to him. I gave him you and Granger. He will trust me for a day longer, and that is all we need," he said.
"You gave him me and Hermione so you can continue to be ambiguous in this war, and expect me to accept and be fine with that? I don't even know whose side you're on and now Hermione is stuck over there and…"
"She Disapparated away after you fell, Weasley," Draco said calmly, having hidden to watch the whole scene unfold after being dismissed, jumping in to save Ginny when he realized she could not save herself. He knew Granger could handle herself as he flew off while disguised with Ginny. No one could Apparate to the castle, but they could Disapparate out, fortunate enough for Granger.
"She is not dead, nor is she hurt…physically, but she thinks you're dead. I'm sorry for that, and whatever pain that knowledge will bring her, but I cannot do anything about it. I took the Polyjuice Potion I had pre-mixed after being dismissed, in hopes that I would not be discovered double-crossing…him…while saving you two, not after just having won his momentary trust again. Granger took care of herself; do not be angry at me for saving your life. You two would have died out in those woods if I had not gotten you out of the path of those werewolves," he said, finally sounding angry.
"Werewolves, like you," she spat and Draco's expression fell. He suddenly no longer looked angry. He actually looked really wounded.
"Yes, Weasley, like me," he said softly. "You would have ended up dead, or worse, ended up like me, if I had not gotten you out of there. So please, just eat your supper. It's going to be a cold night and a long day tomorrow," he said, flopping down onto the ground Ginny had cleared and poking at the food levitating above the fire moodily.
Ginny looked at him for a long time before finally falling to her knees. She could not look away.
"I do not like being stared at," he grumbled, hunching his shoulders slightly and refusing to look over at her.
"I had no idea you were a, a…"
"Werewolf?" he offered.
"When did this happen?" she asked as Draco poked at the food with his wand.
"It's a long story," he mumbled.
"We have some time to kill, right?" she asked, suddenly feeling foul for how she had spoken to Draco moments before.
She still was not sure whose side he was on, but he had just saved her life. She owed him at least the opportunity to explain himself…right?
Draco looked over at her, really looking at her for the first time, eyes locking with her deep brown ones, the kindness and concern in them so genuine it made his closed-off heart warm just a little.
He had sat together with her in the cold snow before, while camping with the Order out in the woods, and she had seemingly extended him kindness then when no one else would, she simply thinking he was a Death Eater turned traitor…now she was looking at him, kindness and understanding in her eyes still, even though she knew he was a werewolf.
She was not rejecting him, or being cruel. She looked as though she was concerned and willing to listen.
Why?
No one was that kind…not to him…
Draco looked away, feeling a flush creep up his neck and cheeks.
He supposed telling her a little about himself would do no harm…he was going to die come tomorrow anyways.
Draco sat up from his bed, panting.
"Goddamn memories, let me be," he muttered, rubbing his damp face. He had woken before the memory had progressed to a little later that evening where he and Ginny had kissed so passionately while still camping together, after they had talked for some hours, but just knowing that was where the memory had been leading was enough to make him groan a little.
Draco felt weight shift beside him and he looked down to smile and brush the hair away from the face of his young guest. He woke up many nights and mornings next to a beautiful young woman. Of course, this frequent guest was his daughter who often came to sleep in his bed with him in the middle of the night, but that was fine. He couldn't imagine waking up beside a more beautiful girl.
The image of waking up beside a young woman with fiery red hair spread across his pillows popped into his mind and Draco quickly shook his head to try and rid himself of such thoughts.
"No, no, no," he scolded himself, eyes closed tight. It was a bad thing that he had such thoughts abut her. Bad, bad, bad.
"Daddy?" Clarissa mumbled from beside him. Draco stopped shaking his head to blink and look down at his daughter.
"Hmm?" he asked softly, smiling gently.
"You okay?" she asked voice soft and sleepy, her face droopy but the concern still readable.
"Yes, sweet pea, I'm awright," he assured, being honest.
He was alright. He was plagued by memories all the time, it was something he was used to even if he still hated it, and there were worse things than having Ginny Weasley cross his mind now and then, he supposed.
Clarissa smiled at him and both shifted their attention when Draco's bedroom door opened. Michelangelo poked his head in, looking bashful while wrapped up in his navy-blue bed blanket still, the edge pulled up over his head like a hood as he hugged it closed around him, messy locks of his platinum hair poking out to cover his forehead.
"I can't sleep," he mumbled.
Draco just smiled understandably and patted the mattress on his left for Michelangelo to join them. Clarissa scooted over so Draco could shift a little to the right and make room for his son on the narrow bed. They all snuggled down together, Clarissa lacing her fingers with Draco affectionately, Michelangelo too "grown up" and "manly" now for such an act of affection anymore but still snuggling close to his father's side for comfort.
The children were still upset over the Ministry tearing through the house, scaring them senseless and giving them the very strong impression that their daddy was going to be taken away and they would never see him again. The Ministry Wizards had done nothing to quash such feelings in the children and when Draco had gotten home he had some very strong words for the wizards there. The words had been strong enough for Narcissa to instruct her grandchildren to cover their ears as she hustled them out of the room quickly.
Clarissa's excuse to join him in bed had been "bad dreams," and Michelangelo apparently "could not sleep."
Draco let them maintain their pride, but still assured them it was alright to be afraid sometimes. He also assured them that he was not leaving them, or being sent away, that clearly being what had them both so worried that they would have bad dreams or be unable to sleep.
Draco gave Clarissa's hand and Michelangelo's shoulder a squeeze as he snuggled down to sleep, Ginny still on his mind despite his resolve to not think about her, their shared past, or what they had done that afternoon.
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Author's Note:
I just love the children, the kiddies, Draco's babies. I enjoy so much writing scenes where Draco and the children interact. It gets me all warm and fuzzy…almost as warm and fuzzy as getting reviews makes me feel.
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