Redemption
Reasons
I gave an annoyed look to the blond lounging negligently on my beige sofa as he let out another round of deep laughter.
"-so then I said, `Why would that even matter you twit? The purpose of the thing is to read it not hear it," Tiffany was saying laughing right along with him.
"How can you get something like that confused, I'm not even a Muggle and I know its common sense," Malfoy grinned.
"I know right? That's what I said," Tiffany replied picking up another cookie from the plate on the coffee table.
I issued an impatient huff, "Excuse me," I commented loudly, "I hate to interrupt these oh so wonderful tales of comedy that you two have going, but we're supposed to be doing an interview."
"We will," Malfoy said with a dismissive wave of the hand.
"Yeah, just let me tell him about what happened at the office Christmas party last year," Tiffany added before leaning forward in the armchair. "It involves a bottle of gin, a pack of fags, a box of Christmas lights, and a Rudolf costume."
Malfoy's brows rose, "Now this sounds interesting."
"Enough!" I exclaimed snatching the cookie that the blond man had just picked up and throwing it back onto the plate. "My editor is breathing down my neck and I need to finish this ruddy story." I pointed a finger at him, "So you're going to stop bloody well stalling and tell me what I need to know!"
When he and Tiffany shared a look, I growled.
"Come on Ginny, we're just having a spot of fun," Tiffany grinned.
I glared at her, "Yeah, well you two have been `just having a spot of fun' during my interviews for the last week and a half. This is getting ridiculous!"
Malfoy raised his hands in surrender, "Geez Red, calm down," he smirked, "it really isn't that serious you know."
"Not to you, Blondie," I hissed; he smirked more. "But I have a deadline that has long since passed, and I still have several questions that you haven't answered before I can get the complete story to my editor," I poked him in the chest, "so you had better start talking."
Tiffany giggled, "Wow Draco, she told you," she chirped taking a bite of her cookie.
Malfoy shrugged, "I'm just impressed she did it in a way that didn't require a parental advisory warning."
When Tiff laughed again, I threw a pillow at her. They drove me absolutely nutters! They were like bloody Abbot and Castillo, always joking and throwing these little comments back and forth. Not that I was really surprised, it was already a trait of each of their personalities, it was just so much worse when they were together. Especially since their favorite target seemed to be yours truly.
In all honestly, I was a bit surprised, and I'll admit annoyed, that Draco and Tiffany seemed to get on so well. I was sure that the minute he found out that she was a Muggle, that sneer I had seen throughout Hogwarts would return and the terms `Mudblood' or `Blood Traitor' would slip at least once. However; against all odds, the opposite seemed to occur. If anything, it appeared to make him more fascinated with her. So much so that the majority of our interview time was usually spent with him asking her questions about her childhood as a Muggle, or her retelling funny anecdotes from work. Tiffany had even insisted that we stop calling one another Malfoy and Weasley; she claimed that it didn't make for an encouraging work environment. And just when I was all ready to argue the point, that bloody git turns around and agrees with her. I know he did it just so set me off the stupid jerk.
I feel stuck in a perpetual nightmare. For the last twelve days Draco Malfoy has been coming to my flat with his annoying comments and haughty airs, eating my ruddy cookies and drinking my tea, and I still didn't have all the information I needed for my article. Leveling a glare first at Tiffany, I then turned and faced Draco, still glaring.
"Who was the last person you helped?" I demanded looking down at the notepad in my hand.
He sighed and rolled his eyes like he always did when I forced the topic to turn back to the original reason for him being here. "An older Muggle woman -though… I don't know if it counts," he shrugged, eyeing the cookies longingly.
"Why wouldn't it count?"
He arched a brow, "Well… I didn't use magic. She just needed a spot of help carrying her bags to her car so I stepped up."
Tiffany sighed dreamily and I rolled my eyes -that was a load of crap if I had ever heard it.
"Right," I scoffed, smirking when he frowned. "Fine who was the last person you helped with magic?" I held up my hand when he started to comment, "No wait, let me guess…" I tapped my chin thoughtfully, "you… levitated a kitty down from a tree."
He gave me an annoyed look, "No."
"No? Really? Well… did you put on a Muggle Boy Scout outfit and apparate a little old lady across the street?"
"No," was the clipped response.
I smiled when his eyes narrowed at me, this was fun. "Okay… did you use a loosening charm to help some hefty chick wiggle free from her car?"
He smirked, "I didn't realize we were bringing your mum into this, Red."
My mouth dropped, "Are you calling my mum fat, Blondie?!"
His smirk became more pronounced, "No, her hips are."
I growled and he grinned.
"I'm actually surprised your dad was able to find his way through all that enough times to make six kids," he continued ignoring my dark look. "I'd say he left a trail of breadcrumbs, but I know better," he arched a brow, "your mum would have eaten them."
I lunged for his throat and he laughed. Easily taking control of my hands, he trapped them behind my back and leaned over me.
"Aww, come on Red, where's your sense of humor," he teased.
"In storage somewhere with your mum's original face," I retorted struggling to get free.
He gave a look of mock surprise, "Storage, surely you jest. I figured if a Weasley wasn't using something then they just handed it down."
I struggled harder against his grip, "Just you wait you sodding prat," I growled trying to get to my wand in my back pocket. I could feel it pressed against my arms, but he had my hands pinned to the sofa cushion.
"Ahh, there's my little sailor," he grinned.
"I'm not your little anything you fucking git!"
He laughed, "Somehow I find myself able to get over the loss."
"You can't lose what you never had," I retorted with an annoyed sigh.
It was no use; he was too strong to fight. I'd have to wait him out -he couldn't hold me forever. At that thought, I finally noticed just how close he was holding me. His face was inches from mine, and his blond-white hair fell into his eyes and brushed against my own dark red bangs. His rich gray eyes were almost flush with my brown ones, his warm breath tickled my nostrils with the sent of homemade lemon cookies as he breathed, and the aroma of chocolate and spices that always clung to him assaulted my senses.
"True," he conceded in reference to my earlier comment. "Yet another tragedy that I seem to find more amusing than sad."
"Good to know I amuse you," I muttered sarcastically.
"I know," Malfoy replied purposefully ignoring my cynicism, "a startling, yet entertaining development."
"Let me go you prat," I frowned, tilting my head back and looking up at him.
His gaze flicked to mine and he froze for a second, something flashed in his eyes momentarily that I didn't understand, yet somehow made me flush anyway.
"Right," he replied quickly moving to the other side of the couch.
I huffed and looked away, willing the blush to recede from my cheeks.
"You two are both vastly entertaining," our gazes flew to Tiffany where she sat in the armchair watching us with an amused look and munching on a cookie. When she noticed that she had our attention, she gave a shrug and a smile that made me cringe. "Though I wonder why you don't just shag and get it over with."
Malfoy groaned and I gagged, "Eww, ewww, ewwww, never!" I exclaimed throwing another pillow at her head. "That is sick, that's beyond sick, it's disgusting, repulsive, revolting, nauseating, vile-"
"Geez Weaselette, we get it," Malfoy commented in that annoying droll tone of his. "And the feelings are very mutual believe me."
Tiffany shrugged, "Whatever."
"Not whatever -never," I replied with a glare; she rolled her eyes and shrugged again. I ran an agitated hand through my hair, "Look, can we just get on with the interview?"
"You're the one who got off of it," Malfoy stated dryly.
I barely restrained the urge to kick him. "Like I was asking," I continued through gritted teeth, "who was the last person that you magically helped?"
He looked down at his hands for a moment in thought before looking back up at me, "A girl. She was walking home alone, it was late, there was a guy following behind her." He scratched the back of his head. "I'm not sure what the guy was about honestly, I just know that he made me uncomfortable. The way that he was shadowing her," he frowned. "I mean he was far enough behind her that it didn't look too suspicious, but close enough that he could have taken a few large steps and grabbed her. He kept his face down; covered as if he didn't want anyone to see him, and every time she crossed a street, he did too. He followed her every turn and her every change in pace -it -it was just too… synchronized. However, I held back until I was sure. Then, when she looked back and noticed him," he shook his head, "she sped up, and would look behind herself every few steps, quickening her pace when he was still there. That's when I knew that she didn't know him." Malfoy sighed, "I used a really strong confounding hex on him, and he probably still doesn't know who he is. I started to obliverate his mind completely, but I didn't really know what his intentions were, so that didn't seem right. It's just that the only way to truly find out what he was up to, would have been to let him…to give him the chance to…" he ran a hand though his tussled hair. "She looked like she was eighteen, maybe nineteen at most -still in University. I couldn't put her through that even if I did plan to stop it before anything too bad happened."
Tiffany and I both nodded, "Understandable," I muttered looking over at the fireplace.
I couldn't imagine having to make that choice. I remember being that girl's age and walking places with my mates instead of apparating. It just seemed jolly good fun at the time; I had even walked alone before, just for a chance to clear my thoughts. But then again I always had my hand on my wand and was more than ready to defend myself -not that I needed to. My relationship to Harry Potter and the rest of the famous `wizarding trio' was very well known and blokes generally gave me a pretty wide berth.
"So," Malfoy breathed after a few minutes of silence while we were each lost in our own thoughts, "what's next on the question list?"
"Wha- oh, I, er," I grabbed my notepad off the floor and looked over the questions before frowning. "Well there's just one more."
"Just one more," he arched an annoying blond brow. "Weren't you just going on and on about how you had loads of unanswered questions?"
"Shut it and answer the question."
"Ask it first."
"Fine I will, in fact I have before." I gave a smug look, "Why did you decide to do it?"
He looked at me for almost a full minute before he gave a shrug in answer.
"That's not an answer Malfoy," I frowned.
"Ginny, we agreed-" Tiffany reprimanded.
"Yeah, yeah," I rolled my eyes. "That's not an answer Blondie."
"Why not?" Malfoy inquired.
"Because a shrug is not an answer! When I write this, I cannot put down, for the most important question mind you - When asked why he decided to save lives, the wizard shrugged."
"Sounds like it works to me," he smirked.
"Well it doesn't," I glowered.
"Draco there has to be a reason," Tiffany interjected, "especially with your…er, background."
"Well, there isn't."
"Yes there is," she insisted, I nodded in agreement.
Malfoy stood swiftly from the couch, "It's personal."
"So?" I pushed, "This is an interview, of course it's going to be personal. Your identity is a
secret so what's the big deal?"
"The big deal is it's none of your ruddy business!"
"Ha! Bollocks -what are you up to Malfoy?!"
"What am I up to?" he repeated with an affronted look.
"Yes." I demanded moving to stand just in front of him, looking up at him I glared. "What's your angle, why are you really doing what you're doing? I mean, there has to be a reason that you won't tell us," I eyed him critically. "What's your motivation? What's in it for you?"
"What's in it for me?"
"You know I didn't realize that the acoustics in this place were so good that we had echoes," I threw Tiffany a smirk before looking back at him. "Yeah what's in if for you? You may have Tiffany and the Muggles fooled with this angel, saint, B.S. act of yours, but I'm not buying into it."
"Nothing's in it for me, I just want to help people!"
I snorted, "Oh please, you want to help people my arse! You're a Malfoy. You'll always be a Malfoy -Malfoy's don't help people and they damn sure don't help Muggles. Let me guess, this is some type of reverse Muggle enslavement thing you have going right? Instead of killing all of the Muggles like your illustrious predecessor," he flinched and I pressed on, "you want to make them worship you like some type of semi-god. All hail the mighty wizard who saved us and all that jazz," I sneered disgusted by the notion.
"That's not it!" he yelled. "I'm not trying to hurt I'm trying to help-"
"Why?" I goaded, feeling so close to my real answer I could taste it.
"Because I want to!"
"Why, what's in it for you?!"
"Nothing!"
"Bullshit Malfoy!"
"Fine," he spat, "I help because it makes me feel better!"
"It makes you feel better, what the hell does that mean?"
"Just what I said," he ran a hand though his hair and took several steps back. "When I help Muggles, I feel better; like I'm undoing some of the bad that I did as a kid-"
I scoffed, "You think helping a few Muggles is going to erase what you and your kind did during the war," I gave him an annoyed incredulous look, "that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Helping a little girl get her balloon, stopping a mugger or would be rapist doesn't bring back the countless Muggles, witches, and wizards that were slaughtered during the war!"
"I didn't kill anyone!"
"You helped! Or did Dumbledore just die all by himself?!"
"He asked Snape-"
"Snape never would have had to if you wouldn't have let those bloody Death Eaters onto the Hogwarts grounds! He wouldn't have felt the need to save your worthless arse if you had been man enough to stand up and save yourself! But noooo, you had to prove you were bad. Save the Malfoy name, redeem yourself for your Master," I gave a mock bow of my head and he recoiled, taking a step back.
"Ginny-" Tiffany started I brushed her off; I had waited way to long to get this off my chest.
"He gave up everything for you -for you! Like you were even worth it! Then after all that, after Dumbledore died to protect you how do you repay him?! By trying to kill Harry when he came to Hogwarts to destroy the Horcruxes." Malfoy looked away. "You think that saving a Muggle here and there will change all that? You think that the wizarding community will say `That Malfoy, he's not such a bad chap after all,'" I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "It won't, no matter how many lives you save you'll always be the villain; you will never be the hero. You. Will. Never. Be. Harry."
"I'm not trying to be…" he whispered after a moment, his gaze averted and fixed on the floor. "I… I was just a kid…"
"So was I, so was my brother, and Hermione, Harry, Neville, and so was Colin Creevy until he died. -We were all kids Malfoy and we all made choices, hard ones. Being young is no excuse for what you did."
"I know… I…" he sighed. "Look, let's get back to your original question; the answer is that I help Muggles because it makes me feel like I made the right decision by coming back to England."
"Did you?" I asked before realizing it.
Malfoy's head snapped up and he looked at me with turbulent gray eyes for a moment before looking away and disappearing with a `pop'.
"What the hell was that?!" Tiffany exclaimed a moment later grabbing my arm.
"I… I don't know," I sighed rubbing my brows.
"You were supposed to be interviewing him, not venting on him," she rallied on. "what were you thinking Ginny?! And that last part -Oh my God, how mean was that!"
"I know."
"You say you know, but you said it. How could you say that? How could you say most of the stuff you did?!"
"Look, hindsight is twenty-twenty okay. Besides, it was something that I've wanted to say to him for a long time. Well, the first part that was," I finished in a mumble.
She shook her head, "He was right you know," my gaze snapped to hers. "He was just a kid Ginny. I mean all the stuff you guys are talking about happened between the ages of what -eleven and sixteen?"
"Seventeen," I bit out.
"Who cares? They're both young."
"So, we were young-"
"And? Look, just because you guys had all this crazy courage and these wonderful morals doesn't mean that everyone is that way. It doesn't make them wrong, it makes them different. I mean, I did stuff at fifteen and sixteen… well, let me tell you, it would make you cringe… and that's just the stuff I remember!"
"That's different! You don't know what the war was like. You didn't have to live through it; you didn't lose people that you loved!"
"You're right I didn't," Tiffany conceded, "but answer something for me. Are you the same?"
I frowned at her, "What?"
"As you were, as you use to be your first years at Hogwarts. Are you the same?"
"No, of course not."
"Why not?"
"Because," when she arched a brow I gave a frustrated sigh, "A lot happened, I've seen a lot, lived through a lot -I'm not the same. I couldn't be. None of us are."
"So then you're saying that the war changed you?"
"Of course."
"So why couldn't it have changed him."
I stared at her in shock for a moment, my mind scrambling for answers. When none were forthcoming, I sighed.
"You owe him an apology," Tiffany said going to the closet and pulling out Malfoy's coat.
I frowned at the item; having failed to realize until just now that the blond wizard had left without it. Accepting the coat and gloves from Tiffany, I released another sigh upon realizing that she had a point, a stupid point -but a point none the less.
"Do you know where to find him?" she asked.
I nodded, "Yeah, I've been to his flat once before -I remember what it looks like. I'll just apparate there."
"Good, I'm coming," Tiffany stated coming forward and grabbing my arm.
"What? No you're not," I replied trying to pry her hand from my arm.
"Yes I am," she retorted, holding on more firmly. "Last time you botched things up and I'm going along to make sure that you don't do it again."
I exhaled noisily and rolled my eyes before closing them and envisioning Draco Malfoy's flat in my minds eye. Once I had the image, I concentrated on it, and Tiff and I disappeared with a loud `pop'.
A second later, we arrived in Malfoy's spacious flat. I looked around while Tiffany attempted to get her ears to pop.
"What an annoying way to travel," she muttered in a disgruntled tone.
I shrugged, "Can't get any faster. -I don't see him."
Tiffany stopped messing with her ears and looked around the room "Draco!" she called circling the couch. "Draco!!"
"He's not here," I commented with a sigh. "Now what do we do?"
"We wait," Tiffany replied picking up one of the Muggle magazines off of the coffee table and plopping down onto one of his armchairs.
"Ugh, I was worried you'd say something like that," I rolled my eyes. "Well I'm not gong to sit here all-"
I cut off with a small yelp as Draco Malfoy suddenly plummeted from the ceiling like a fallen angel and landed hard on the dark green sofa.
"Draco?" Tiffany whispered.
When he didn't move, we shared anxious looks.
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