Author's Notes:
The Slytherin's Witch is now complete. I would like to dedicate this final chapter to Black Alnair, whose friendship and snarky sense of humour have sustained me during dark and good times.
A special thank you to Marcia, my beta, for her unwavering support and guidance in fic and in life. We did it.
A complete archive of all my fic can be found at we3sisters (http://community.livejournal.com/we3sisters/profile), along side that of my two talented friends Black Alnair and Peki. Please join us for great fic and lively discussions. You don't need to be a member of Live Journal to access our ficjournal!
Last but not least, thank you to my wonderful readers who have encouraged me along the way. I hope you enjoy this last fling with The Slytherin's Witch. - fallenwitch
Chapter 10
An Illusion
(8:30 a.m. the following morning)
Draco stared at the ceiling of his claustrophobic prison cell, refusing to rise out of bed and face a future without her. His half-packed trunk sat in disarray in the middle of the room. He was a miserable bastard, but despite the well-deserved misery, unexpected relief flooded his weary soul.
She knew. And now that she knew, the game was over, as were his dreams.
He was no fool. He knew what he was to her. He was an illusion. When she looked at him and touched him and whispered his name, she wasn't looking at him or touching him or whispering his name. She was looking at the wizard she remembered and loved, the one who died years ago in that wretched cavern, never to be resurrected, only exhumed. Despite this, he could not let her go.
Too weak to let go, too terrified to tell the truth, Draco hung on until the duality of his existence and his untold truths began to destroy him. He was dying beneath the weight of his lies and his addiction to her. Nothing built of such rotting and precarious pillars can survive long survive, much less flourish.
He never questioned the inevitability of their ending, only the moment. It arrived when his crazy world wrapped its hands around her neck, almost killing her. As she lay gasping for breath, he found the strength to do what he could not do during the previous ten months - to tell her the truth.
His great revelation had come with an unexpected twist, one he had not anticipated. Whether or not she returned to him, he needed to leave her. If he didn't, he might one day kill her, and despite the multitude of sins on his hands, that was one neither he nor his soul would survive.
Draco jumped to his feet at the sound of uninvited guests outside his bedroom door. Brandishing his wand, he crept across the room and toward the door. It had been awhile since someone had taken the time to try and kill him.
A second later, they were nose-to-nose with his wand at her throat, half a curse out of his mouth.
"Merlin, Ginny, don't do that," he admonished sharply, tucking his wand away. She knew better than to show up unannounced. What the hell was she doing back again? He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Did she have some sort of death wish?
She didn't say a thing. Instead, she stared at him the way she always stared at him, and he felt his heart explode in pained relief.
"Ginny," he cried. His misery and his salvation were wrapped up in that word. His whole life was that word. Despite his best intentions, Draco could not stop himself. He rushed to take her into his arms.
That was when he felt the business end of her wand in his ribcage. This, of course, was the other reason she was here.
"Go on," he sighed, backing off." Get it over with. I'd recommend a swift Arvada Kedavra except you'd risk Azkaban. There are other ways of killing someone as I'm sure you're aware."
Her eyes widened as his narrowed. Then her saw her companion out of the edge of his peripheral vision.
Draco dove for cover, reaching for his wand as she cast the killing curse on him.
----- ----- -----
(9:30 am)
Ginny crawled out of bed and stumbled across her flat to stop the loud, persistent banging on her front door. Throwing open the door, she winced at the early morning light before shielding her eyes.
"Merlin, Harry, did you have to come here at the crack? It's not a bloody emergency," she groaned, leaning against the door in her nightgown, her hair a dishevelled mess.
"Morning, Ginny," he said, staring at her for a several long moments before swooping down to kiss her cheek. Then he brushed past her and into her flat.
She yawned and closed the door. "Come on in."
When she turned around, Harry was poking his nose into every room in the place, looking in cupboards and peeking behind curtains, his wand drawn. Ginny went back to her bedroom, crawled into bed and pulled up the bedcovers.
"Ginny - "
She looked up at him, sleep in her eyes and her bones.
"When you said you were going to secure my wards, I didn't think you meant this bloody morning," she said, snuggling in deeper, trying to find her previous comfortable spot.
Harry smiled, remembering their conversation from the previous night. This was his Ginny. He leaned over and landed a grateful kiss on her cheek, getting a sleepy smile in return.
"I'm not here to check the wards. An hour ago the Ministry got notice of a magical disturbance involving a series of killing curses. We traced it to Malfoy's flat."
"What?" Ginny sat bolt upright, clutching the bedcovers to her chest.
"Someone tried to kill Malfoy this morning," he repeated. "And it looks like they used Polyjuice Potion to do it."
"Polyjuice Potion?"
"There's a dead witch and a dead wizard in his flat. I had to make sure that you're alright. Why don't you come with me to my house for the time being, until we get this mess straightened out? You'll be safe there."
"Where's Draco? Is he alright?" Her hands were gripping the lapels on Harry's robes, pulling him to within an inch of her terrified eyes.
"I don't know. He's gone. He was gone when we got there."
"Gone? Gone where?"
"I don't know. No one knows."
Ginny shoved Harry aside and jumped out of bed, rushing to change her clothes. Harry turned his back and continued talking.
"It doesn't look like a kidnapping. It has all the earmarks of an assassination attempt. We've got people out looking for him, but it's Malfoy. If he doesn't want to be found, we won't find him. Our forensic team is down there now. As soon as I get a report, I'll let you know what - "
"CRACK!"
Harry spun around and she was gone, the sound of her Disapparation stinging his ears. Swearing under his breath, Harry withdrew his wand and Disapparated right behind her.
Ginny landed in Draco's flat and took a fast look around before heading for his bedroom.
"Ginny? Ginny!"
Neville was calling her from the end of the hallway, a startled look on his face. When he saw that she was about to step into the bedroom, he came running toward her.
"No, Ginny, don't!" he yelled. "Don't go in there!"
Harry Apparated in as Neville threw himself in front of Ginny, trying to block her entrance into Draco's bedroom.
"Don't be ridiculous, Neville. I know what's in there. Harry's already told me."
"Let her go, Neville," Harry said, pulling Neville out of Ginny's path.
"No!" Neville protested, yanking his arm out of Harry's hand.
"Neville, let her go. That's an order," Harry growled.
Neville glared at Harry but let Ginny pass. After she stepped into the bedroom, Harry leaned over and said to Neville, "She needs to see this. She needs to know who he is, and what he's capable of."
Ginny stood in the centre of their bedroom, peering over a corpse. She had witnessed death many times during the War but never her own death. She lay in a crumpled heap, her head at an odd angle, her dark eyes wide and staring. A torrent of blood had spewed over her robes and her corpse and the room. Her throat had been splayed open from side to side.
The metallic scent of blood seeped into her nose, through her lungs and wrapped around her heart, squeezing it until the room began to spin and her knees bucked and the back of her throat filled with bile. Ginny reached out to hold onto something, but there was nothing to hold onto.
"Ginny, are you alright?" Harry asked as he entered the room with Neville one step behind.
She didn't hear him. All she heard was the sound of her own heart shattering. She was unconscious before her body hit the ground. He had killed her.
----- ----- -----
Three weeks later the Ministry lifted its restricted wards, and Ginny Apparated into Draco's flat, wand in hand. It was no longer a crime scene. The crime had been solved. The mastermind behind the assassination attempt was Irwin Hale, Blaise's stepfather and a former Death Eater. He concocted his Polypotion Potion with hair gleaned from the robes Ginny had tried on with Blaise for the St. Mungos' Ball. His accomplice, Lillian Wolf, also a former Death Eater, took the potion, which allowed them to slip past the wards and into Draco's flat. Their attempt to kill him was unsuccessful. At least that was the official version.
Ginny made her way through his flat, stepping over fallen chairs and righting an upturned side table. He hadn't returned and no one had been able to track him down. With no charges filed against him, everyone stopped looking a week ago when the Ministry determined it was a case of self-defence.
Stopping shy of his bedroom doorway, Ginny noticed for the first time the door was blown off at the hinges. She stepped inside. A Ministry administered Veritaserum test cleared Blaise of any involvement in the crime. Hale had used him to get to Ginny and through her, to Draco. It was a simple path, one older than time.
Blood stains covered the room. Ginny bent down to examine the pattern of blood on the floor, touching a second dried puddle of crimson so dark it looked black. A forensic analysis of the blood found at the flat determined that it belonged to all three parties, Draco and Hale and Wolf. Was this collection Draco's? How injured was he?
Was he dangerous?Harry thought so, and many agreed with his assessment. Yes, Draco suffered from the aftershocks of various traumas during the War, but didn't they all?
Ginny ran her hand through the fine clothes in his closet, alive with his glorious scent, and buried her face in his favourite jumper, wrapping her arms around it. It hung against her lifeless and cold. It didn't wrap its arms around her or hold her in that bliss of Slytherin warmth she craved.
Where was he?
----- ----- -----
Six weeks later, he stood outside in the pouring rain, leaning on a gold tipped cane, watching the windows in her flat. They lit up one at a time as her shadow moved from room to room.
Ginny sat down at the small kitchen table, pulled out a bottle of Firewhisky and a glass tumbler. She had gone to his flat and his favourite Muggle watering holes many times with no luck. He was gone.
What was a witch to do? She promised she would never leave him, yet he never promised her the same. There was no finding this wizard if he didn't want to be found.
Ginny took a long, slow sip then closed her eyes, shutting out the world she resented, the one that had taken him from her again.
Outside her window, thunderous clapping hid the quiet sound of his Disapparation out of her life.
----- Fin -----
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