Disclaimer: I do not own any of the creations of JK Rowling,
I have finally revised the previous chapters to fall inline with Book 5, I also took into account some reviews and integrated the comments. Thanks for the help! Now on with the new segment!!!
Chapter 6 - Demons
The amber liquid swirled around the snifter reflecting the thoughts that flew through its consumers mind. Draco lifted the glass to his nose and inhaled the rich scent of the brandy he held. The aromatic liquor momentarily calmed his senses and lifted the burden from his shoulders.
Draco sat indolently his long legs crossed and his free arm resting across the length of a brocade loveseat in his study. Across an old-world coffee table and partaking in a snifter of brandy as well sat Albus Dumbledore.
"Excellent Brandy Draco, I commend your tastes."
"Thank you Professor, it was difficult to become a connoisseur when one had to smuggle in what he could get his hands on."
"Well you did quite well for yourself I must say." Dumbledore paused and sipped the clear liquid, ruminating over its quality and over the boy sitting across from him.
He is still Draco, Dumbledore thought. He still possessed that innate arrogance that his father and grandfather before him had possessed. Dumbledore studied the boy's eyes; they were the crystalline gray that ran in the Malfoy bloodline, yet they were different than his fathers. Lucius had possessed (it was odd now referring to Lucius in the past tense he thought) sharp clear gray eyes. They were enigmatic, never revealing emotion, except perhaps a glint of pleasure and cruelty. He was cold and had tried to instill the same qualities in his son.
Draco's eyes, as schooled as he was in emotional concealment glinted with suppressed emotion, which perhaps was the difference between the generations. Draco had chosen differently than his father, he had shown an inner strength that still amazed Dumbledore in his desire to not become the man his father was. Perhaps it was Narcissa that had provided this quality in Draco. Despite her vanity and flighty nature, she had been a good woman who loved her son to distraction. Perhaps she had been the final straw for the younger Malfoy.
Dumbledore ruminated over how he would begin his conversation with his companion. But Draco typical to his temperment was not one for dealing with anothers attempts at delicacy. He only beat around the bush when it served his purposes. He truly was a Slytherin.
"Well I know it wasn't my excellent supply of Brandy that brought you to Malfoy Manor Professor. So if I may ask, what are you doing here?" Daco stared boldly at his aged professor.
Well... well... well.... Young Malfoy, we certainly have grown up Dumbledore thought. Not about to be ordered about by one of his students, Dumbledore set about his agenda along his own terms, not that of Draco.
Dumbledore paused and again sipped the brandy that he held before him.
"As you may know, school is scheduled to continue as planned, I firmly believe that a return to normalcy is what is best for all, following the tragic events of the war."
Draco stared at his professor neither agreeing nor disagreeing with his statement.
Dumbledore continued, "Now this does not mean that the past will be casually glossed over or forgotten, rather it will be memorialized and recognized. You play an important role in that Draco, just as you played an important role in the resistance. For that when school begins I would like to make a formal recognition of your feats to the student body."
Draco sat in silence at the conclusion of the Professors speech. His immediate reaction was violent. He did not want to be glorified for killing his father, somehow receiving glory for an act that was tearing him apart did not seem right. He was not looking for the respect and understanding of his school peers; such shallow acceptance was unnecessary and seemed pathetic to Draco. He was not Potter in search of fame, relishing in his title of Saint Potter - saving all that is good!
"No" He finally repsonded.
Dumbledore watched Draco waiting for more, his eyes seemed to hold an explanation
"I do not want any recognition for my... acts. All I ask is that you inform the students that I was not a Death Eater or a follower of Voldemort. My actions are my own and shall be kept that way." Draco spoke with the authority of his ancestors.
Dumbledore smiled he would be a man to be reckoned with, that was assured. At that moment he knew leaving the young Miss Weasley with him had been the right choice.
Dumbledore sat in silence for a moment taking in Dracos response, planning his next statement, chatting with young Mr. Malfoy had turned into a chess game.
"Consider it done, I respect your choice and the consequences are yours to deal with. Moving on, normally you would receive this information by owl, but I see no reason not to tell you as I sit here. I have the honor of informing you that for the next school year you have been granted the honor of being Head Boy."
Draco stared open mouthed for a moment, almost losing his infamous composure. Gods, Head Boy!
Dumbledore rustled around in a pocket on his voluminous robes and extracted a small letter waxed close with the Hogwart's seal. "I believe this is yours."
Draco's fingers slowly closed around the parchment offered to him. He wanted to reject it to throw it back in Dumbledore's face laughing all the while. What was this, some sort of pathetic olive branch, offered in compensation for the travesty that had occurred. How dare they offer him that reward! He despised what their cause had made him do. He had murdered the man that gave him life. Albeit there was little love lost, but a strong sense of familial loyalty, that was ingrained since birth in Draco had been destroyed. Such a disruption put the cosmos askance for Draco, and this was to be rectified by the honor of being a leader of his peers and a role model.
While Draco seethed in anger over that another thought crept into his mind that was equally as disturbing. A small voice in the back of his head mocked... This is exactly what your father would have wanted of you to achieve. An even crueler mocking voice added perhaps that would have made him love you.
Draco immediately shut his mind off to the ramblings that threatened to overrule his subconscious, and focused on opening the letter in front of him. He knew he would accept it, despite his anger and confusion; his pride was too great to refuse. This was something Potter couldn't have,. Satisfying thought of revenge flitted through his mind, his anger at Harry was beyond reason. How dare he show up in his home and accost him, and Ginny in such a manner. Beyond his thoughts of retribution, his inner monologue piped up and reminded him that perhaps this would be good for him, that the fates had a plan for him. Despite his lack of faith in the world, he could not shake the feeling that he must accept the badge gleaming gold in his palm.
"I'll take it" Draco finally responded to his headmaster. "I get my own room correct?"
Dumbledore chuckled at his response, "Of course you do, although you will have to share a lavatory with the head girl."
"And that would be? Although I hardly think it is a question." Draco sneered.
"It is Hermione Granger, as I am sure you expected." Dumbledore set his now empty snifter of Brandy down. "You have run neck in neck with her for top marks for the past few years."
Bloody Hell! Sharing anything with Granger would be a trial. But Draco was sure that it would only enhance his repertoire of mocking commentary. "Yes… Yes… as I thought." Draco responded.
Feeling that the game had run its course Dumbldore moved into position. "I had another purpose for visiting you Draco." Dumbledore continued, "I came to inquire over Miss Weasley's condition. I have word that she has regained her memory"
Draco had been anticipating and was almost shocked that it took him this long to get to his main point. But he knew Dumbledore was a shrewd man, beyond his comprehension.
"Yes she has, Potter…" Harry's name rolled off Draco's tongue dripping with scorn. "stormed into my chambers this morning, accusing me of mistreating her and demanding that she come home with him. When grabbed for Ginny, it triggered something and much of her memory came back."
"Much?" Dumbledore questioned.
"Not everything has been restored." Draco began, "She remembers what happened, but not all the details are present. I hazard to say that such incidents as the one with Potter will continue to trigger her memory."
"What were the memories of young Miss Weasley?" Dumbledore asked almost absentmindedly. It was as if he already knew what he was going to be told, and still didn't want to hear it.
Draco's eyes became hooded as he began to recite his memories from the morning's events.
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Harry fell back silently from the room, his mouth gaping like a fish at the outburst from the redhead that lay before him. Draco glared at him for a moment, but quickly turned his attention to the patient in his bed.
Ginny's breathing had become shallow and quick in the aftermath of her outburst. Her eyes remained large and stared pointedly at the ceiling. Draco slowly approached the bed, in an effort to prevent further frightening her.
He hadn't a clue how to begin, what to say, what to do. Aesa had mentioned that when she regained her memory it would probably be a traumatic event for her, but that she needed to experience it.
"Weasley…Ginny" He corrected himself"
Her eyes slowly rolled over to his face, acknowledging his presence. They stayed that way for a space of minutes, until Ginny with a raspy pained voice broke the silence. "The child is gone"
Draco was unable to determine whether it was a question or a statement she posed, so he nodded in agreement. Ginny's eyes again returned to the ceiling.
"I still don't understand why I am here?" She purposefully glossed over her previous statement.
"As I said before, at the end of the battle all the medi-staff was occupied so I brought you here." Draco replied short with frustration, he wasn't sure how to proceed, she had obviously remembered but seemed adamant in ignoring that fact.
"That I understand, I'm injured not dumb. But what I do not understand is why I am in the house of a Death Eater."
Her voice was hard, yet weariness laced her every word. Her statement with its venomous reference to Lord Voldemort's followers erased any notion that she had joined their minions from his mind.
You aren't…" He wanted to leave it at that, he hated this feeling of obligation to explain himself that arose inside as he looked down at Ginny. Her face was pale but her cheeks had reddened with exertion. "I am not a Death Eater…"
Ginny interrupted him immediately, "But you are, I have seen the mark on your arm, I heard Tom er… Voldemort talk about your correspondence. He said you helped release your father from Azkaban."
"If you would let me finish young Weasley, you would have heard that I am not a Death Eater in the conventional way. I was working with Dumbledore as a spy for the light. Yes I did correspond with Lord Voldemort , and unfortunately I did aid in my fathers release from Azkaban." Draco spat his fathers name out, and grimaced in memory.
Ginny paused taking in what was just said, she once again turned her eyes back to Draco, as if in acceptance of his explanation. "Who was here earlier… with the robes?" A shiver ran through Ginny's body at her mention of the robes.
Draco noted her reference to Potters clothes, that must have been what triggered her memory. "That was Potter, he came to remove you from my 'evil' clutches."
An indescribable look crossed over Ginny's features at the mention of Harry. "He came to take me away?…"She uttered the statement with awe in her voice. Her eyes shone brightly, then clouded over quickly with what seemed to be anger. Draco followed the range of emotions that graced her features, intrigued by their number, visibility and quick progression.
A small knock at the door interrupted the pair. Roderick appeared with a fresh pitcher of water, and a small plate of crackers and cheese.
"I thought young master and the miss might need some refreshment."
"Thank you Roderick. I will ring if any more service is required." Draco accepted the plate and set it on the bed near Ginny, "help yourself"
After a brief struggle with the sheets and her atrophied muscles Ginny worked her way upright and sampled some of the food and water. It had been a good deal of time since she had eaten, yet she wasn't hungry too many memories robbed her of an appetite.
Draco quickly became impatient with the situation, he tried to quell his natural instinct to press her for information. He could not expect her to spill her every secret to a veritable stranger. He glanced over at the Ginny to see silent tears streaming down her face.
"Ginny…Ginny do you.."He still wasn't sure how to proceed.
Draco was saved from further fumbling by Ginny who turned her tear streaked face toward him and began spewing words, and snippets of memory.
"He came, but it was too late… too damn late." It took Draco a moment, but he realized that she was referring to Potter. "He didn't come when Crabbe was forcing me to remove Hermione from the train, he didn't come when they shackled me to the wall for weeks, he didn't come for me when the battle was over, he didn't come for me when Tom… when Tom beat me… when Tom beat and…" She couldn't seem to get the last part of her thought into words; with that frustration she dissolved into sobs. Sobs that were far from the tears that had been previously coursing her face, these tears robbed her of coherent speech, shook her entire frame and doubled her over.
Draco was speechless in response, he did what shockingly came natural to him. He gathered her heaving form into his arms, trying to quiet her. He ran a hand up and down her back, stroked her hair and shhh'ed till he could not stand it anymore. "Ginny… Ginny you must stop crying now, you are only going to make yourself sick. Stop, please stop"
Draco was amazed at himself. Since when did a Malfoy ask anyone to do something nicely. He couldn't remember the last time he had used the word 'please'. Yet there was something instinctual about his behaviour with Ginny, something he often was forced to quell when he had been around his mother.
As her tears began to abate, she locked eyes with Draco. "Thank you, thank you for saving me, I remember you running up to me in Voldemorts cave, thank you for caring for me, and thank you for being here now."
Draco was taken aback he had not been expecting that response, he had expected more avowals of his dark allegiance, perhaps more accusations of his intent to harm her, but not gratitude.
Ginny removed herself from his embrace and hiccupped occasionally as she straightened herself up and made to remove the signs of her distress. She stared at the boy…no he was definitely a man that sat next to her.
He was different, so incredibly different from her days in school with him. In school he had been a spiteful angry boy, but now and she recalled the few times she had awaken, he seemed concerned and there was a sad light to his eyes as he watched her move. She did not know his story, yet she was sure there was pain involved there had to be in order to change him from that boy into this man. It was that pain she knew they shared that allowed her to place her trust in Draco. Unsure of her surroundings and of what would happen next she knew she would have to relinquish some of her isolation to this man and it scared her.
"Would you like to talk about it?" Draco interrupted the silence, "I once heard that it is good to talk about things…" He ventured this advice uneasily, after all he was a Malfoy and it went against his every pretext, but he had once overheard someone give this tidbit of advice, and perhaps it would work.
Ginny stared at him trying to read his eyes for ulterior motives, and finding none she sighed. He was right, her mother had always said the same thing, telling somebody helped take the weight of it off your shoulders.
"I don't even know where to begin…"
"I always found the beginning to be the best." Draco smiled at her, a genuine smile of reassurance. That gesture broke her reserve and Ginny began to tell what she could remember.
She began where his understanding of the events left off. He had run into her, quite literally aboard the Hogwarts Express as she hurried toward the loo. There he had uttered a cryptic warning to her to watch out, and not to run off alone. She had promptly disregarded what he had to say and continued on her path to the lavatories. Draco had pressed her for the reason she was headed there, but Ginny successfully hedged an answer. It was there after their encounter that Crabbe had cornered her and hit with a stupefy curse.
Her next conscious memory was fuzzy, she could hear someone's voice in her head telling her what to do, the voice was vaguely familiar and very convincing. Ginny had followed instructions and went in search of Hermione. She remembered convincing her that there was a special prefects meeting and that Ron, who had been sitting for the moment with Lavender, was already there and had sent Ginny to gather her.
With that knowledge Draco was certain that the Imperius curse had been used on Ginny, but how it was applied he was uncertain. He was positive that Crabbe was not strong enough to even attempt such a powerful spell. He kept his ruminations quiet as Ginny continued her recitation.
Much of her memories of the first weeks of her captivity were hazy. She remembered small snippets of actual happenings, such as being shackled to a wall, by two death eaters who taunted her verbally and with small bits of food. She remembered Hermione being kept in cell, but left unharmed. Mainly she recalled just her fear, it was palatable still. She was left in isolation for the most part told nothing, and she remembered the unending fear of what would happen next.
Ginny paused to take a sip of water, she was visibly drained from the days events. Draco studied her in silence, he should probably contact Aesa soon and let him know she had regained memory, but he felt there was something left that she still needed to purge before their conversation was over.
"Do you know what happened?" As Ginny asked the question, she locked her brandy colored eyes with his smoky ones.
"What? Do I know what happened in the battle?" Draco was unsure what to make of her question.
"No, what happened to me." She watched his eyes, they were still clouded by confusion. Ginny sighed and continued, "I can remember generally what happened, but there are still large chunks of detail that are missing. I want to know what happened…" She trailed off for a moment, "but then again I wonder if I don't remember then maybe I shouldn't want to remember."
Draco too sighed, he had never felt compassion for another human being before, but for this girl in front of him he began to feel sorrow. Sorrow that she would have to remember whatever tragic events had occurred. He also noted how incredibly wise she seemed, and sad that that intelligence was correct. "I know what you can tell me, and even if I knew I don't think I would want to be the one to tell you." Draco paused and began muttering, "Even I am not that cruel…"
Ginny raised her eyes from her glass of water, "What did you say?"
"What is the last thing you do remember?" Draco ignored her question.
"Fine, don't answer…." Frustration overwhelmed Ginny momentarily. "Just like a Malfoy" she mumbled in response.
Draco smirked at her response, slightly miffed at her comeback, but more glad to see that she still had fight in her. "What did you say?" He mimicked.
"Oh shut it!" Ginny responded her cheeks high with color. "well at least I will have the common decency to respond to your question. As she began to speak again, the smile that had begun to light her features during their short banter fell away rapidly. One hand clenched the other as she tried to draw her knees into herself, but was stopped by pain.
"The last thing I do remember is being led to a room, this part is clear. The hall was dark and damp, we were obviously inside a cave or deep in some catacombs. Two men held my arms, they were the same two that shackled me. I had taken to calling them Crabbe Sr. and Goyle Sr, as they acted the same and had about the same intellegence. It must have been their job to guard me as they were constantly with me. We walked forever it seemed, my body ached incessantly. I had been shackled to the wall, arms raised, for weeks now, with only small respites. They finally stopped in front of a large wooden door with heavy iron hardware. Crabbe Sr. uttered a password I could not hear and we were ushered in by a very bedraggled house elf."
"Goyle Sr. roughly pushed me into a large wooden chair. I remember being scared yet oddly resigned to whatever was going to happen, I think I had begun to loose hope that I would be rescued… foolish fanciful notion." Bitterness edged into her voice, "A small man approached me from my right. He held a vial still steaming from the cauldron. I remember his voice, It was high-pitched and everything he uttered was infused with a whine. He told me to be a good little girl and drink up the whole potion. I wanted to protest, but the voice was back in my head telling me to do as he said and everything would be alright. It tasted awful, but went down. They left me then alone in the dark room. There was a single candle on the wall by a door, not the one I entered through, but across the way. I started to feel a bit fuzzy I was still aware of my surroundings I just started to care less for some reason, I assume it was something in the potion." Ginny paused gulping in air, she was visibly shaking at this point, whatever her mind wanted to remember was physically straining her.
She continued, "This is where my memory fades. I remember the door creaking open, the door across from me and… and the light ceasing blocked by the form that emerged from the doorway." She seemed to be lost in the memory for the moment, reliving it in her mind. "I gasped, and… and uttered 'Tom!' It stops there, from that point on, until seeing you running at me in his cave all I remember is pain, Merlin so much pain but that pain was overwhelmed by a feeling of numbness, complacency I didn't care what happened anymore. I don't think I do now…" Ginny trailed off exhausted. She slipped down the sheets, her head falling to the side and her eyes vacant. "I suppose you were right, I guess talking about it helps." There was little conviction to her words, "Thank you for listening…"
Draco placed his hand on her hair, surprised to see a slight tremor in it, and smoothed her hair down. "It will help…eventually." He could not back up his comment, but his instincts told him that it would.
As she drifted off to sleep he heard her mumble "It will help for you too."
He stared in shock, Too wise, too wise he thought.
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Draco finished speaking and sipped from his snifter of Brandy allowing Professor Dumbledore to assimilate everything he had just been told.
Dumbledore appeared nonplussed but Draco knew that everything was hidden behind the professors implacable exterior. "Again I Thank you Draco, you have been of great service to young Miss Weasley. I will discuss the situation with Aesa and get back to you shortly. She should be able to return to her family soon." Dumbledore rose, preparing to leave. "Congratulations as well"
Draco saw his headmaster out of his study and down the hall to where Roderick was waiting to escort him out. He remained in the doorway for several moments, shocked but yet not shocked. Nothing he had related to the old codger had seemed new to him, but then again Dumbledore was always that way. Draco supposed he would have to wait for an explanation. Merlin how he hated waiting for things on other peoples schedules!
Resigned to his fate, Draco with his every step betraying his weariness made his way to the bedroom to check on his 'houseguest', and perhaps get some sleep himself.
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