Disclaimer: Anything you recognise belongs to JKR.
A/N: I only ever seem to be apologising for taking so long to update in these notes. How depressing. In any case, here is the promised rewritten version. The next chapter, I hope, will not take so long to write.
The Pawn Makes Her Move
Ginny stared absently at the ceiling. Once again she had found herself lying on the bed, dress pulled up while Lara scanned her heavily pregnant belly. She tried to ignore the ticklish feeling of the magical scanner and, instead, cast her eyes back at the brunette. Like the last time, Lara was not in the mood to talk. Ginny couldn't help but note the trouble shadowing the older woman's eyes. Apparently she wasn't the only one who hadn't been able to sleep over the past week.
"Have you discovered the traitor yet?" asked Ginny, wondering if this was the cause of the witch's disquiet.
Lara gave an involuntary twitch. "Not yet."
"Oh."
There was an uncomfortable silence. Ginny shifted on the bed and stared back at the ceiling. She had not forgotten that it was Lara who had wanted Draco to lie about the traitor, but it would not do to dwell on that. It would not do to dwell about anything that had happened that day.
Lara finally pulled the sensor away and started wiping the sticky potion off Ginny's belly.
"You're doing well, Ginevra," said the brunette with a smile, if a little forced. "The child is progressing exactly as it should. I'd say you have about a week left before the baby will be due. Perhaps a week and a half if you're lucky."
Something cold and very hollow settled in Ginny's stomach. The way Lara had said the words sounded far too much like a death sentence for her comfort, which, when she thought about it, they indeed were. There was no question of her not being killed once the child was born, but it had always seemed like some faraway thing, almost a dream that could never become real.
"A week?" repeated Ginny, her voice hushed as if saying it louder would somehow make the words a more concrete fact.
Lara said nothing and simply began to pack away her equipment. Ginny pushed herself into a sitting position and stared at the brunette. It was obvious that Lara didn't want to talk about it, obvious that she was ignoring the redhead completely in the hopes that her silence would settle the matter, but Ginny was not one to be ignored, not when her own feelings had been so unsettled.
"You've sensed it, haven't you?" asked Ginny, her voice surprisingly calm. "You've sensed what will happen once the child is born."
Lara closed her eyes, an infinitesimal sigh escaping her lips. "Yes," she admitted quietly. "I've sensed it."
"And?"
The black lashes lifted, vivid blue meeting Ginny's own brown with no trace of sympathy or indeed any feeling at all.
"You die, Ginevra."
And that was it. In three simple words her future had been decided. There was no uncertainty in Lara's voice, no murkiness to give the redhead even the slightest fragment of hope. This was the cold truth. Her baby would be born and then she would die.
Death seemed to smile at her then, as if it could already feel the warmth of her body fading into its cold embrace. Not long now, it seemed to say, but Ginny refused to accept it. This just couldn't be all that her life would amount to.
"I don't believe you," said the redhead, shaking her head.
Lara gave her a pitying look. "No one ever does want to accept their own fate, but all things must come to an end at some point. You cannot escape your destiny, Ginevra."
"You're wrong."
"Am I now?"
Ginny gritted her teeth. "You talk about fate and destiny as if it's something irrefutable, but you forget that we are the ones who make our own choices. Fate may deal the cards, but I'm still the one who plays them."
"You're right," agreed Lara, "you do play your own cards." She leaned forward and looked Ginny squarely in the eyes. "But what happens when your opponent has the winning hand?"
Ginny faltered at that, but then the answer she had desperately been searching for ever since she had discovered her situation finally manifested itself.
"You cheat," said Ginny softly, more to herself than the woman in front of her.
Lara's eyes widened a fraction. "I see. And how do you plan to do that?"
Ginny offered no answer to this. She did not trust Lara. The brunette may have united with Draco against Voldemort in regards to the traitor working with the Dissenters, but who knew the real reason for that? Ginny certainly didn't. Lara was still just as mysterious to her as she had been when they had first met. It was too risky to confide in her now.
"You're playing a dangerous game, Ginevra," said Lara seriously. "You're mistaken if you think you can overset the Dark Lord's plans. He will kill you once he has your child in his grasp, no matter what you do."
"Then I guess I have nothing to lose, don't I?"
Lara's eyes flashed with an unreadable emotion. "Foolish girl. Why can't you just accept your fate?"
"Because that would mean giving up, and I've come too far to simply let him win now."
"You do realise that I will have to tell the Dark Lord what you're planning, and that he will take measures to ensure you don't obstruct his plans?"
"I know."
It was a risk Ginny would have to take, but anything was worth the risk now. Hearing that the baby would be born in a week had given her a new drive, a new desire to break free. She had been lost in the shades of grey, confused and conflicted by twisted feelings of love and hate, but now there were new shades colouring her view, shades that made her realise just how stupid she had been behaving.
While she had been struggling to make sense of her feelings for her captor-the same man who had murdered her brother and caused her so much pain-there were people that she loved dying, people, long dead, crying from the dusts of the earth for her to get back on her feet and keep fighting for the cause they had given their lives to. It was her child that the Dark Lord wanted, what everyone wanted, and she, in all her selfishness, was practically handing it to Voldemort on a silver platter. She was handing him victory, and it was this realisation that made her want to fight back, to beat him at his own game. But she knew she would need help, and it was not Lara who could help her, though having the brunette as her enemy would make things difficult.
"Don't think I don't know that you're planning something, Ginevra," said Lara, interrupting her thoughts. "I can sense it all ready."
"No one wants to accept their fate," responded Ginny, "you said that yourself so why should I accept mine? I'll make my own fate if I have to."
Lara laughed at that, much to Ginny's surprise.
"You're not the first person to tell me that people make their own fates," explained the brunette, amusement quivering in her voice. "He didn't want to accept his fate either, and for a while I almost thought that he could change the path that destiny had decreed for him."
"What happened?" asked Ginny, curious even with all her frustration and hopelessness.
"In his stubbornness to prove me wrong, he did exactly what Fate had decided for him. You see, Ginevra, you're right in saying that you can play your cards however you like, but the outcome still remains the same. Fate always wins in the end."
Ginny didn't miss the bitterness lacing Lara's voice at those last words, and she wondered if there was more to the story than the brunette was letting on. Had Lara perhaps cared for this man who had tried to change his fate?
"Who was he?"
"The man?" Lara gave a wry smile. "I believe you know him well yourself. He is your captor, after all."
"Draco? You're talking about Draco?"
Lara simply gave one of her enigmatic smiles in reply, and then she turned and left the room without a further word. Ginny stared at the closed door, confused and conflicted all over again. What had Draco been trying to change about his fate, and why did Lara tell her about that anyway? Did the brunette want to scare her off from trying to ruin Voldemort's plans because of how futile it was? Or was she trying to hint at something else?
It was impossible to tell, just as it was impossible to tell where Lara stood. Ginny knew that if Lara had really wanted to stop her from rebelling against Voldemort's plans, the brunette could very easily do it herself. But Lara had not stopped her. She had only warned her.
Why?
Ginny sighed. She knew that she could think about this question all day and be no closer to an answer. Lara was determined to remain a mystery, and Draco-he was best left forgotten, even if the thought of never seeing him again did make her heart ache.
In a way it felt like everything had been building up to this moment. Draco had pushed her to the edge, stripped away all the armour of hate that had protected her heart from him, but now she had to be strong again. She had to stop clinging to those moments of kindness he had occasionally shown and break free from the insanity he had thrust her mind into. No matter how much her heart refused to let him go, she had to do it. She had to break free.
Ginny walked to the dresser and picked up the chain that held Harry's ring. She had not worn it since the day she had sex with Draco, feeling that it would only betray the man who had given it to her, but now she needed the strength that it could give her. She needed to feel his memory close to her heart, to feel the cold metal against her skin. It was a reminder of everything she and her loved ones had fought for, and now she hoped it would give her the courage she needed to let go of all that was holding her back.
The door opened. Ginny turned abruptly, her breath catching when she met those steely-grey eyes. It was as if Fate had already sensed what she was going to do and was now testing her to see if she could really break from the chains it had placed on her.
"Draco," said Ginny coolly.
"Ginevra."
He closed the door behind him and walked further into the room.
"I see Lara has already been. How long until the birth now?"
"A week, maybe a week and a half."
"I see."
His eyes latched onto the ring hanging loosely at her chest. A small laugh escaped his lips, though his expression was far from pleasant.
"So you've returned back to Potter, have you? How easy you women switch from one man to the next."
"What do you want?" demanded Ginny, gritting her teeth. "If you've come here to insult me, you can leave."
The corner of his mouth lifted. "Oh, did I hit a nerve?"
She glared at him, her breasts rising and falling rapidly with her anger. His smile grew, and, like a cat stalking its prey, he walked slowly towards where she stood, stopping barely an inch away from her so that she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes.
"Tell me, Ginevra," he murmured in his low, velvety voice, "do you really think Potter would want you wearing that after everything you did with me?"
He touched the ring at her chest, his fingers just brushing against her breasts where the low neckline did not cover. She let out a shaky breath, half-submitting to the seductive charm he emanated, but his words quickly had her snapping back to reality.
"That's none of your business," spat Ginny, pushing his hand away.
He laughed, a cruel, mocking laugh. "Please, Ginevra, acting like the maiden of outraged virtue won't work for you now, and neither will this pathetic display of loyalty for Potter." He stepped closer to her, dominating her space until she felt her heart drumming wildly in her chest. "Don't forget that you were the one who came to me. It has always been you that wanted more. I simply gave you what you wanted."
Ginny suddenly found her back pressing against the wall. She hadn't even realised he had been manoeuvring her backwards, let alone that she had been moving at all. He leaned in close to her, his warm breath brushing against her ear like the lightest of kisses.
"You can't tell me that you don't want it still," whispered the blond, shifting her hair away from her neck with one graceful movement to expose the sensitive skin. "You can cling to that piece of metal all you like, but it won't give you what you need." He pressed a kiss just under her ear. "Warmth." Another kiss on her pulse. "Emotion." He brought his face back around to hers, his eyes dark with desire as he stared intently into her own. "Pleasure."
Ginny gave an involuntary shiver at the expression in his eyes. It would be so easy to give into him, so easy to let him swallow her up in his madness again, but deep down she knew that his words meant nothing. He would only hurt her, and though there was a time when she had allowed him to do so, even welcomed the pain he gave her in all her twisted desire and starved need for affection, she knew better than to trust him now.
"What do you want from me?" asked Ginny, glaring at him now. "Do you really love tormenting me so much or is it simply because you can't bear the thought that I might actually move on and forget about you?"
His eyes flashed, and Ginny knew by the ugly expression that came to his face that she had struck home. The insecurity was all there, baring his vulnerability for the first time. He did not know how to love, and so he had pushed her away, hoping to crush her intentions and hopes, but like a possessive dog with its bone, he could not bear the thought of not actually having her there when he wanted her. He could not bear to have her deem him as nothing, to have her leave him alone.
Draco's mouth curled into an unpleasant sneer. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh?" Ginny mocked in his own derisive tones from earlier. "Did I hit a nerve?"
His expression darkened dangerously. He didn't even look remotely handsome right now. It was somehow satisfying to her. She had always hated the fact that he was so beautiful to look upon, but now his face reflected the ugliness that she knew painted his soul. She could see that he hated the fact that she had found his weakness, and with all the spitefulness of a broken woman, she wanted to dig her hands deeper into that wound and force him to feel the pain he had made her suffer so that he too could know what it felt like to have his heart scorned and crushed.
Ginny leaned in closer to him, her eyes glinting maliciously. "You thought you could play with me at your will, that you could string me along and beat me like some begging dog at your heels, but we all grow tired of games, Draco. You wanted to drive me away? Well, congratulations, you've succeeded, because there is nothing you can do now that would make me want to spend another minute in your hateful presence."
She made to walk away, but he gripped her hard by her shoulders and pushed her back up against the wall, his eyes narrowing as he stared darkly into her eyes.
"Are you forgetting that you're still my prisoner?" growled the blond. "You'll go when I say you can go."
"I may be your prisoner, but I'm not your whore," snapped Ginny. "Now take your hands off me."
Draco glared at her, still with that ugly expression on his face, and then he crushed his lips against hers in a ruthless kiss. She gasped in surprise, and he quickly took advantage of her open mouth and deepened the kiss, not even letting her have a chance to say otherwise. Her hands pushed at his chest, trying to get him to release her, but he only gripped her tighter, practically suffocating her in his possessive embrace. Everything about the kiss was raw and angry, filled with the loathing that he felt for her and the undisclosed need that always pulled him back, but she was too enraged to take delight in the fact that she had, at last, succeeded in shattering his control.
She finally managed to wrench her lips away from his, and then she slapped him hard in the face, her eyes blazing with unrestrained anger.
"Don't you dare do that again," spat the redhead in a low, shaking voice.
"You can't tell me that you didn't like it," retorted the blond with an unrepentant smirk.
Ginny could only glare at him, knowing that she had enjoyed it. He laughed, sensing his victory over her.
"Face it, love. You'll never be rid of me. You just can't help yourself."
"You're wrong."
His eyes narrowed, and Ginny winced as he tightened his grip on her shoulder, his expression darkening in such a way that she felt a shiver of trepidation travel down her spine. Was he going to hurt her?
The sound of the door opening again had them both jumping in surprise, so caught up were they in their emotions, and Ginny turned her face to see Narcissa enter the room.
"What are you doing, Draco?" demanded the blonde in freezing accents. "Do you have any idea what the Dark Lord would do if you hurt Ginevra?"
Draco abruptly released Ginny as if he had only just realised how aggressively he had been holding her. He took a step back, his expression an odd mixture of contrition and impenitence.
"You can leave," ordered Narcissa, staring coolly at her son. "I think you've done enough damage for one day."
The blond stared at Ginny as if he were trying to decide whether it was worth it to stay or not, but then he simply turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.
Ginny let out a deep breath. She was glad that was over. She didn't like that her resolve had almost wavered simply because he had shown an interest in her again. It frightened her just how much power he had over her, for the longing to be in his arms was still a very real part of her. She realised now more than ever how imperative it was that she get away from him. He would consume her, destroy her even, and it disturbed her to think that she had almost let him. She needed to get out, and she needed to get out now.
"Are you all right?" asked Narcissa, snapping the redhead from her thoughts.
Ginny nodded. "It's nothing he hasn't done before."
Narcissa frowned. "I don't like him being alone with you. He's become so unpredictable of late. I'm worried for your safety, Ginevra, especially with the birth so close."
"I'm worried too," said Ginny truthfully.
She knew that another encounter like that could break her, not to mention the fact that she had only a week left before the monster inside her was born and she was killed.
Ginny looked at the blonde intently. She knew that Narcissa was the only person who could help her now, but would she be willing to do it? There was still so much that the older woman kept back from her, and though she had sympathised with Ginny more than once, there was no telling if that really meant anything. It would be a risk, but Ginny knew it was a risk that she had to take.
She stepped forward towards the blonde, grasping the woman's hands impulsively in her own.
"I need your help, Narcissa."
"What?"
The astonishment and discomfort in the older woman's eyes was unmistakable. This did not bode well, but Ginny pressed on, knowing that she would never get a chance like this again.
"Lara tells me that I have a week, maybe a week and a half left before the baby will be born," explained Ginny in a rush, "and then they'll take the child and kill me, and everything I've been fighting for will be in vain, everything you've suffered for your son will be in vain. I know you're not like them. I know you don't care about the Dark Lord and his plans. I'm begging you to help me escape now before they can get my child. Please, Narcissa. I can't bear to sit back and let him win, but I can't do this alone. I just can't."
"You're asking a lot from me, Ginevra."
"I know. I know it's selfish of me to even ask you to risk your life like this, but what if there was a way to stop him? Don't you wonder what it would be like to live in a world that he didn't control?"
"I'm afraid that there wouldn't be much of a world left."
Ginny shook her head, frustrated. "You don't understand."
"I understand, Ginevra, but you need to understand that what you're asking for is a miracle. Even if I could get you out of the Manor, what hope do you have in stopping the Dark Lord? You're just a simple girl."
"I have to try," whispered Ginny. "I've been fighting against him for four years, I've watched my whole family be slaughtered before me because of him, and in a week that will all mean nothing. He's going to kill me, Narcissa, and he will use my child to become the most powerful wizard on this earth. I can't let that happen, not while I still have a chance to do something."
"And if it fails?"
"At least we would have tried. At least we would have done something to stop that man controlling us. I-" a small sob broke from the redhead's mouth, the tears stinging at her eyes "-I just can't bear to let it end this way. How can I embrace death when I know that it will mean the end of everything I love? How can I just sit back and let fate take its course when there's still a chance to change it?"
Narcissa considered the redhead for a moment through her cool blue eyes. Her lashes closed, veiling whatever thoughts were hidden behind that mask of impassivity, and then she stared back at Ginny with a face that was so emotionless it was as if there was no life left in her at all.
"I cannot help you, Ginevra. I'm sorry."
Ginny couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had thought for sure that Narcissa would help her-she had to help her-but here the blonde was refusing to do a thing. This couldn't be happening. Not now. Not when everything was about to slip beyond her control.
The redhead slid dazedly to the floor, unable to withstand the crushing weight that bore down on her. She was barely aware of her surroundings, simply staring before her with unseeing eyes.
"So that's it, then?" whispered Ginny.
"I'm sorry," repeated Narcissa.
She sounded genuinely remorseful, but what did that matter? Ginny didn't want her apologies. They were of no use to her now, not when she knew she had barely a week left to live.
"Please," said Ginny in as dignified a voice as she could manage, "just leave me."
There was no response: only the sound of retreating footsteps and the soft click of the door sealing shut. She squeezed her eyes tight, fruitlessly trying to hold back her tears as she curled up into a ball on the floor and clutched her arms around her swollen stomach.
Now what was she going to do?
OOOO
Narcissa stared at the empty chair in front of her, the same chair where she had last seen her husband's slumped over form. Even now she could vividly recall the ambience of death that had clung to the room when she had found him two years ago, though at the time she had not understood the feelings assailing her body. She had thought him asleep and, ignorant as she was of the situation, she had scolded him for being so at his desk. When he had not responded to her reprimand, she remembered how an unnameable panic had attacked her chest, how the sight of him so still and silent became somehow ominous to her eyes.
It was strange how one's body could sense when something was wrong before the mind could fully fathom the reason. She could recognise that now, but at the time she had not considered the oddities of that sixth sense. She had simply reached out a trembling hand towards him, disturbing the silvery strands of hair that had shielded his face from her view, and there she had seen his grey eyes staring back at her, eyes that were empty of all life. That was when the truth had sunk in. Her husband was dead. Murdered. Gone.
Draco had comforted her that night. She could still recall the way he had held her in his arms after discovering her sobbing and clutching her husband's dead body, the way he had muttered soothing nonsense to her that neither of them had probably paid much attention to at the time but which had given both mother and son a sense of solace all the same. When Lucius was buried the next day in the family cemetery, Draco had held her still, and he had continued to do so for the rest of those dark days while she struggled to come to terms with the loss of her husband, as if he had sensed that her body could no longer hold itself up when the organ keeping it alive was so crushed.
He had been her rock back then, giving her the strength she needed to keep living in a world so mundane and meaningless without the man she loved to share it with. She had never seen her son so affectionate, so open with his love for her, and though it was true that in just four months he started to degenerate into the unfeeling monster that he now resembled, she had known from that point on that she could never abandon him.
The truth was that she could have fled any time during the past three years. Though her own wand had been snapped, she had always known that a spare lay in her husband's desk. Lucius had let her in on all the secrets of the manor, which is how she also knew that the anti-Apparation wards that kept Ginevra and herself trapped in the manor did not apply to his study. Unfortunately, neither the wand nor the lack of wards had helped Lucius-traitors never do make their identities known until it is too late-but Narcissa knew that it could help her aid Ginevra in escaping from the manor.
It was for this reason that she now found herself once again in the study that had seen the last moments of her husband's life. The image of the young girl crumpling to the floor before her like a wounded bird had continued to haunt her, damning her for her lie. She had never held another's life in her hands, never felt the guilt of knowing that her selfishness could be the cause of another's death. For all her position as the Malfoy matriarch, she had been a mere spectator to the war, kept like a fragile flower behind a wall of glass that was only allowed to observe the chaos happening around her.
But now that war was intruding upon her, forcing her to choose between what was comfortable and what was right. She could not deny that she wished she had never bothered to be kind to the girl, that she had never forged those bonds of friendship. It would have been so much easier to let fate take its course then, to let Ginevra die. But she had built those bonds, and she could not ignore the agonised promptings of her conscience.
She knew that this would probably be the only genuinely selfless thing that she would ever do in her life, for she had never cared about the war, and she had certainly never risked her life for anyone but her own family before simply because it was the 'right' thing to do. But that was the point, wasn't it? Ginevra had become almost like a daughter to her over the past two months. It was true that her love for the redhead was certainly nothing compared with the love she felt for her own son, but those motherly instincts had still been inspired and, in the end, it was those instincts that now prompted Narcissa to help the redhead escape.
Narcissa walked to the desk in the middle of the room and opened the top drawer. Out of it she pulled a thin piece of wood, which she pocketed in her robe. It would not do to have her son see her with it while she was walking around the hallways.
She took one last look at the empty chair, consolidating her resolve, and then she left the room and made her way back to Ginny's bedroom. She opened the door without knocking and saw the redhead sit up from the bed and stare at her through red-rimmed eyes.
"Follow me," said Narcissa.
Ginny blinked in surprise, but the blonde was already leaving the room. She quickly scrambled to her feet and caught up to the older woman, a frown on her face.
"Where are we going?"
Narcissa just continued walking.
Ginny knew that she would get nothing more from the older woman and simply followed the blonde down the maze-like corridors until they came to a part of the mansion that she knew was near the kitchens. This was the same area that Draco had told her she was not allowed to wander around. She wondered if she was about to discover why.
She watched curiously as Narcissa stopped before a painting and muttered a few words under her breath. The painting swung open, revealing a darkened room.
"Quickly," urged Narcissa, "before anyone sees."
Ginny scrambled in through the portrait hole, Narcissa following behind her. It didn't take long for Ginny to realise that she was standing in someone's study.
"This was my husband's office," explained the blonde. "He conducted all of his important business with the Dark Lord here."
Ginny glanced towards Narcissa in surprise. "Your husband?"
"Yes."
Narcissa wordlessly pulled out the thin piece of wood from her robe pocket and handed it Ginny.
"He always kept this here just in case something happened during one of his meetings. It's of no use to him now, but I believe it can help you."
Ginny took the wood from the blonde's hands, not even needing the familiar shock of magic that thrummed through her veins to know that she was holding a wand. Lucius Malfoy's wand, at that.
"This room has no anti-Apparation wards on it," continued Narcissa, allowing her lips to form into a small smile. "You are free to go, Ginevra."
For a moment Ginny wasn't sure that she heard right. It just seemed so impossible after everything that had happened that day, but there was no denying it. She really was free to go.
Ginny clutched the wand in her hands with renewed hope, but then she shook her head, remembering something.
"I can't leave without Harry. I won't leave him again."
"To get him now would be to risk discovery. You must go now if you want to escape."
Ginny shook her head more fervently. "I can't."
Narcissa sighed in exasperation. "Fine. I'll create a Portkey to get into his room. I have enough magic to remove the wards for that."
She took the wand back from Ginny, not having a wand of her own, and began chanting a few incantations under her breath. Then she grabbed a paperweight from the desk and tapped it with the wand, muttering a few more incantations.
"All right, it's ready."
Ginny quickly placed her finger on the paperweight that the blonde was holding. Within seconds she felt the familiar pull at her navel, and then the world was spinning around her and she found herself standing in the middle of Harry's room. There he was on the bed, looking surprisingly healthy from the last time she had seen him, but Ginny didn't have time to consider that further as Narcissa was already handing the wand back to her, urging her to hurry and take the new Portkey she had made for the redhead to get out of the manor.
"Wait!" exclaimed Ginny, pausing in the act of grabbing hold of Harry's hand as she stared at the blonde incredulously. "You're not coming?"
Narcissa shook her head. "I could have left a long time ago if I had wanted to. I have no wish to leave now."
"But you'll die if you stay here. They'll know you helped me, and I can't just leave you here!"
"Then that is a risk I will have to take."
"This isn't the time to be noble, Narcissa! What good is it to stay here? Please, come back with me. We can find the Order together!"
"My son is what matters to me in this world, not the Dark Lord and the war. But you-" Narcissa placed her cool hand against Ginny's cheek. "You must fight for all of us."
She pulled her hand away and stepped back. "Now go. You don't have much time left before someone realises what has happened."
"You aren't going to come with me, are you?"
Narcissa shook her head. "I made up my mind a long time ago that I would stay with Draco until the end, and that is what I intend to do."
Ginny stared at this cool, impassive woman who had done so much for her, and it was then, as she looked into those determined blue eyes, that she finally understood. Narcissa was not trying to be noble by staying behind; she was just doing what was natural to her. It was the same reason why Molly Weasley had placed a silencing charm on her daughter before stuffing her into a cupboard when she had heard the Death Eaters coming to attack the Burrow, the same reason why Lily Potter had sacrificed herself for her baby boy on that fateful night all those years ago.
Narcissa loved her son, and she would do anything, anything to protect him.
Ginny let out an odd sob and threw her arms around the older woman, squeezing her eyes shut against the tears already spilling down her cheeks as she was enfolded in the blonde's familiar embrace. The thought that this might be the last time she would see the Narcissa made her tears come all the more freely, for she knew that the older woman's life now lay in a very precarious position.
"I wish you were coming with me," choked Ginny, still struggling with her tears.
"You'll be fine," said Narcissa reassuringly.
"It's not me I'm worried about."
Narcissa paused. "You don't have to worry about me, Ginevra. I know what I'm doing."
Ginny knew that there was nothing she could say to change the older woman's mind, and so she simply hugged the blonde all the more fiercely.
"Thank you," whispered Ginny. "For everything."
Narcissa gently pulled back. "You should go now."
Ginny nodded and took hold of Harry's hand while grasping the Portkey with the other. She took one last look at Narcissa's regal, ever-imperturbable features, and then she felt the familiar pull at her navel and she was gone.
OOOO
Lara sat up with a jolt, cold sweat clinging to her skin. She brushed the sticky hair off her face and stood up from the chair, her heart pounding in her chest as she ran towards her master's room. She didn't bother to knock, bursting right on through the door and stared at the Dark Lord with her face a ghostly white.
"What is it, Lara? What's wrong?"
"Ginevra," gasped out Lara. "She's gone, and she's taken Potter with her."
Voldemort's eyes flashed a deadly red. "How is this possible?"
"I don't know. I checked to make sure she couldn't do anything to disrupt your plans. Everything seemed normal. There was no possible way for her to escape by herself."
"Then she must have got help," observed Voldemort in a chillingly calm voice. "Hand me my cloak, Lara. I think it's time we pay a little visit to the Malfoys."