Disclaimer: JK owns them all!
Thank you to all 7 reviewers of the last chapter! Very fitting number there ;) also thank you to the anonymous reviewer who pointed out my misspelling of Gryffindor, I was ashamed! Does anyone know what went wrong with Portkey the other day (it may have been yesterday, or the day before… I've lost track slightly :S) it seemed to have gone down? Or was that just me? Let me know if you know what happened. If Portkey should disappear (which I REALLY REALLY hope it doesn't) I will post this story somewhere else to carry it on, so search the Draco/Ginny fanfiction world and hopefully I'll get it out there somehow. Obviously I'm sincerely hoping Portkey doesn't go anywhere though! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Draco reveals some of the unpleasantness he has had to live with, so there's your warning.
*******
Friday. Ginny was anxious about working in the library again. Draco had shown his kind side again last night, and whilst she had initially decided not to get too wound up over it and to simply get on with her work, when he hadn't responded to her quip about missing her at the end of the evening she couldn't help but wonder if that was because he actually did miss her... But maybe she was simply trying to fool herself that she hadn't been a complete idiot in liking the guy in the first place.
He wasn't waiting for her, and she firmly told herself she wasn't disappointed but she kept a keen ear out as she approached Madam Pince and sure enough she heard the whisper of a presence behind her, and determined Malfoy had appeared mere seconds after her. Hmm, coincidence?
"You can switch back to the quills today, Miss Weasley, Mr Malfoy. The ones you have already fixed have already been snapped up by those classrooms in shortest supply and now the others teachers are complaining that they haven't had their fair share." With what might have been an eye roll at the childish behaviour of the staff, Madam Pince waved them on.
They took up their customary positions and Ginny reacquainted herself with the small pile of neatly labelled quills which had not been fixed from their previous session. She thought she felt Malfoy's eyes on her at one point and felt colour rise in her cheeks, but when she glanced up surreptitiously he was completely absorbed in his work, and she had to bite back a laugh when she noticed the quill he was testing seemed to be spraying his face with ink every time he used it. She continued to watch as he dutifully ripped off a scrap of parchment and began to note its malfunction. Ginny sighed as she once again found herself being unsure whether she was relieved or disappointed by the Slytherin's actions. On the one hand she was sure she didn't want to speak to him, sure she'd had a lucky escape realising the boys true colours sooner rather than later. But she still couldn't forget how caring he had been when she'd been upset over the expectations people had of her, how he had truly seemed to listen to her. She was as much a fan of house loyalty as any Gryffindor, but she wasn't going to become as bad as the people she despised by hating someone just on principle, and that included a Slytherin. She didn't know what was going on with Malfoy, or what her feelings for him were developing into, but she couldn't deny he had a streak of kindness and decency in him.
They continued to work in silence, it seeming a little awkward to be so quiet in each other's presence having worked most recently on the books together. Malfoy labelled the quills with his usual precision and Ginny worked carefully through them attempting to fix each one. The note of dismissal finally came just as Ginny had picked up another quill to start, and unwilling to add it back to the growing pile she decided to just finish it off before leaving. Malfoy was labelling his last quill too so they both lingered a few moments together. Ginny checked the label which read "regenerates ink used to communicate with writer". Shaking her head slightly at this uncharacteristically vague description Ginny lowered the quill and wrote her name. The ink began to fade and Ginny felt unease rise within her. Gradually the ink reappeared and she froze as she read "Hello, Ginny". Her heart began to thump wildly and suddenly she felt as though she were eleven years old again. Her mind cast her back to the way she would write to Tom, dear, understanding Tom, how she would eagerly await his responses, relishing the moment the ink would begin to reappear with his words. How she had begun to realise his manipulation and use of her. How she had feared writing to him and dreaded what words he would make appear. How he had possessed her.
"Ginny? Ginny!" the girl was shaking uncontrollably, her eyes fixed to the parchment before her and she was a pale as a ghost. Draco moved quickly to her and shook her firmly, alarmed by her appearance. As he touched her she seemed to come to, hastily dropping the quill, and before he knew what had happened she had run, sprinted even, from the library as if she were trying to outrun the devil himself.
Draco could only stand, stunned as she went. He looked down at the parchment and saw the words "Hello, Ginny" scrawled there, and realised she must have been on the conversational quill as he liked to think of it. Staring at the words Draco had not a single idea why they had caused such an adverse reaction in the Gryffindor. All he knew was that he couldn't leave her alone, he needed to check on her. Shouldering her bag as well as his own he hastily made his exit from the library, grateful that Madam Pince was nowhere in sight.
*******
Ginny kept running down through the castle, out through the front doors and into the cold night air. She didn't even stop then, carrying on running until she had reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and plunging herself into the safety of the trees there. She collapsed against a tree, catching her breath from her exertion and not realising she was crying until her heaving breaths continued long after she had stopped running. She wiped her hands angrily over her cheeks, attempting to scrub away the evidence of her distress despite the fact that there was no one there to see. It was stupid, stupid, to be upset, it was a damn quill and NOT Riddle's diary. It was a childish charm, not an evil trapped soul which made the ink write back. She was safe. Her breathing began to steady but her heart still felt wrenched, the hurt from so many years ago flooding back with the humiliation and pain and betrayal. Suddenly Ginny heard a noise and saw a spark of light a short distance from her. Creeping closer she saw three third year students gathering around some sort of cigarette, puffing on it delightedly. She marched out to the younger students, not wanting them to be the ones stumbling upon her, and startled them from their activity, causing several very guilty looking faces.
"What do you think you're doing?" she snapped authoritatively at them.
"Smoking cannabis," one of them supplied easily, a less than lucid smile on his face, which quickly paled as Ginny silenced him with a stern frown, quickly swatting her hand out and smacking his hand holding the offending spliff, knocking it to the floor.
"Scram." She said in a low fierce voice which said in no uncertain terms that it was an order, not a request. Finally realising they could get in rather a lot of trouble if this fiery sixth year Gryffindor chose to wish it upon them, the 3rd years scrambled away, almost tripping over themselves in their haste to escape.
Ginny followed them with her eyes for a short moment, relishing the sound of their hastily retreating footsteps. She eyed the spliff and quickly stepped towards it, picking it up off the floor, dusting it off and putting it to her mouth and inhaling before she could change her mind. She didn't enjoy smoking, hadn't really ever tried it before except for a puff on a pipe of a distant relative when Fred and George dared her to at a big family event a few years previously. Suppressing the urge to cough, Ginny took another deep drag on the cannabis laced cigarette, holding it for a moment before letting it out. She could quickly feel the slightly clouding effects of the drug, calming her slightly and encouraging her to continue.
"Ginny," she heard his voice softly behind her, and she span round. "Smoking weed?" he questioned, with a slightly raised eyebrow. "Isn't that a little… out of character?"
Ginny tried to look completely casual, not wanting Malfoy to notice her tear stained face and still slightly trembling hands. "Want some?" she offered indifferently, holding the spliff out as if she smoked all the time and was not feeling slightly nauseous from her sudden intake of the drug and smoke.
He looked at her carefully, and slowly reached out to take the spliff from her. "You know," he said casually in a soft voice, eyeing up what he now held. "My father caught me smoking once. It was a few years ago, I was about 14 I suppose. My mother and he had held a dinner party for a few business associates of my fathers and one of them was trying to get into his good books, and gave me a gift of an intricately carved ivory box. I opened it to discover 40 cigarettes. "The finest African tobacco!" the man informed me jovially, and held out his lighter for me to try my first one. I was very smug of course," Draco smiled hollowly, still staring at the spliff as its tip continued to glow. "As I sat there, feeling mature and aristocratic, my father discovered me. He looked furious and dragged me to his office, barely containing his anger enough to excuse himself from the guests."
Ginny was held captivated by Draco's voice, as she often was when he read Shakespeare. Now though, it wasn't a tale from the bard which he shared, but an insight into his own family life, his upbringing and his father. Ginny was compelled to listen, not wanting to make a sound or movement to disturb him from his reverie.
"He sat me down in front of his desk and then leaned against it next to me, his close proximity scaring me almost as much as his steely gaze and hushed tones. In one hand I limply held the cigarette whilst the other still clutched the box containing the rest. He…" Draco paused slightly, swallowing, before continuing after a moment: "he proceeded to tell me the dangers of smoking. The… damaging effects it had. The unattractiveness of its habit, odour, detrimental effects on health. Then he ordered me to take another drag. The cigarette had gone out but he quickly relit it with the tip of his wand for me. I took a drag, feeling my heart thumping wildly against my chest. I was afraid." Draco looked at Ginny finally. "I was afraid after all he had told me, why he would make me do it." He paused again, holding Ginny's attention, capturing her eyes, keeping her wondering what he was going to say next. Instead he took a shallow drag from the spliff, not taking it back but exhaling quickly, a look of intense distaste colouring his features as he surveyed the now brightly glowing end. "My father reached out and took the cigarette from me. Then he took my arm. He pulled my sleeve up and I watched as he pressed the lit end of the cigarette hard into the skin on my arm." As he spoke Draco, looking straight at Ginny, took the spliff and pressed it into his palm, burning his skin. Tears filled Ginny's eyes, startled by the story, by his actions, and shocked out of her own melancholy desire to escape to realise the foolishness of her actions. Looking back to his face Ginny saw Draco's jaw clenched against the pain as he flicked the now put out spliff to the ground. He took a slow careful step towards Ginny. "My father made me light every one of those remaining 39 cigarettes. Made me take a drag from every single one before stubbing it out on the flesh of my arm. By the end, my arm was littered with its 40 burn marks, and I felt sick from the whole experience. "Remember, Draco," he whispered to me, after the last one, clenching my burned arm, squeezing the damaged flesh tightly. "Remember just because you can't see the damage something does, doesn't mean it's harmless."" Draco let out a bitter laugh, finally looking away from Ginny. "How right he was about that one." after a pause he finally finished his monologue: "He healed my arm then of course. Didn't want to leave a scar… that time at least. He reminded me a Malfoy is far too superior than to inflict damage upon himself. Some dad, huh?" he quipped, uncomfortably, suddenly seeming to realise the full extent of what he had revealed to Ginny. "He made his point though," he said, stepping closer to Ginny again. "It doesn't help to hurt yourself. Plenty of other people are willing to do that for you out there. Best not to help them out."
Ginny blinked causing the previously unshed tears to roll down her face, and she looked away from him, suddenly feeling very childlike in front of this man. He stepped towards her, closing the distance between them, obviously sensing how unhappy she was and wrapping his strong arms around her as she began to crumble and cry against him, wrapping her small arms around his waist. He shushed her quietly, rubbing soothing circles on her back and she eventually began to calm, her sobs turning to deep shuddering breaths as she attempted to pull herself back together. Draco pulled back from her slightly to look down at her as she quieted, and she tried to avoid his gaze.
"Hey," he said softly, finally drawing her to look up at him. "Why don't you try talking about it?" Ginny looked away hastily, a frown adorning her features. "Come on," he said softly. "You tried your way, which I think you'll agree was a complete disaster." Ginny couldn't help but let out a slight hiccupping laugh at his reverting to his characteristic sarcastic drawl. "Besides, I told you mine. It's only fair that you give me something in return really. Otherwise how will I ever have any assurance you won't use this information to blackmail me?" Only the fact that he still held his arms around Ginny made it complete clear that he was only teasing, his tone was mock serious and his face quite sombre.
Ginny let out another small laugh. "Yeah right, Malfoy. I'm not the Slytherin here, remember?"
"Ah yes," Draco nodded seriously. "The evil Slytherin who, upon finding you alone, smoking, smoking drugs indeed, in the Forbidden Forest, if you please, takes off to report it to a superior, not before making some snide remarks about the individual, and insulting them in every possible way. That Slytherin would be me, yes?"
Ginny wriggled slightly uncomfortably from within the enclosure of Draco's arms but not quite enough to serious imply she wanted to break free. "Um. I suppose so. Yes." She said, pitifully looking up at him, her eyes drying more as the boy joked with her.
"Well in that case I've behaved terribly," Draco said, finally letting her go and stepping back from her, causing her to feel a slight sadness, and disappointment at the sudden absence of his touch. "I got my role completely wrong," he continued, as he sauntered away from her, towards where he first appeared. He stooped down suddenly before turning back to her, swinging his bag over his shoulder having retrieved it from the ground, and holding something out to her. "I must have been having a chivalrous moment." And Ginny noticed that he held out her school bag, which he must have collected as he left the library to come after her.
*******
A/N Please let me know what you think, obviously something a bit different this chapter so I hope it goes down ok! Reviews to let me know would be so much appreciated. Also I would like to say Draco's story wasn't a big rant to any smokers out there in any way so please don't take it that way, it's merely for the story :)