Written for the Word Count Challenge on HPFC.
Prompts: "Sanity is boring." ; "Look me in the eye and say it. I dare you." ; Truth ; Incredulous ; The Killing Curse
Goal: 1200
Count: 1201
She had been in this situation before, looking down the barrel of a gun, so to speak, arms bound and heart pounding wildly in her chest, lying on the floor and writhing helplessly as she faced her punishment. She was reckless by nature, having never felt the desire to restrain herslf by rules and laws that she disagreed with, even those designed solely to protect her. Not that that was the case now. And though Harry may have been fighting a battle all his own while out looking for Merlin-only-knows-what, but she was fighting one, too. But hers was for the good of all the children who remained at Hogwarts, trapped within a castle that was no longer safe, being dictated by a man who had killed their protector.
And so was he fighting for something, she knew, but his stance was opposing hers. He was standing above her, holding the wand directly at her chest. His face was twisted into the awful scowl that he had always worn for as long as she had known him. He would have been handsome, she thought, if he didn't always look so angry. His face was classic, with clean lines, porcelain skin, and clear grey eyes, and she was willing to bet anything that when he was asleep he looked just like a fallen angel. But not now. Now, he just looked far away.
"You've caused them a lot of grief, you know," he said. His voice was cold, to be sure, but not harsh. "They told me I could kill you."
"Then do it," she hissed, struggling against the restraints grasping around her wrists. "Go ahead and prove that you're everything they are. Cast the Killing Curse. Prove that you're an iredeemable, lowly Death Eater."
His eyes narrowed. "I'm here, aren't I? Holding you in detention? What else could that possibly make me?"
"Sure," she said. "But the Carrows, whenever they've taken care of me, they've never wasted this much time. They torture me for a full hour, from the moment the door closes. What are you waiting for, Malfoy?" Her voice was taunting and cruel, moreso than his.
"You want me to hurt you?" he asked incredulously. "You're insane. Everything about what you and your Gryffindor friends have been doing this year, challenging authority. You must be out of your bloody minds!"
She shrugged, trying her best to appear as nonchalant as possible despite the circumstances. "Sanity is boring. And by your definition, what you mean by sanity just refers to compliance. And I'd rather die than do what Snape and the Carrows want me to do. I'd be dead already."
"No, you wouldn't," he hissed. "You'd be much better off, Weasley. Compliance is what you should be striving for. This – this crusader act that you lot have going on, it's only going to get you into more trouble. More of this. More detentions, more Slytherins who would be more than happy to torture you. You're lucky I..."
"Lucky that you what?" she answered harshly. "Lucky that you've taken pity on me? That you're gentler than the rest of them? Please. I was wrong. You're just as bad. You're just as evil as the rest of them. You're still holding that wand to my throat like it means you're powerful. But you aren't. The truth is, you're weak."
"No. I'm not."
"You're not?"
"No."
"Then do something," she challenged, fighting her restraints so that she could sit up, so that she could glare back at him, so that she could look just a bit more intimidating. "Help me. Fight with me."
"I can't do that."
"Why the hell not!?" she exclaimed and cried and shouted all at once. "What are you so bloody afraid of?"
"I'm not afraid of anything."
"Of course you're not." She scoffed. "Please, Malfoy, you are the most cowardly person I've ever met. I don't care how many Galleons your mummy and daddy have got in their Gringott's vault. As long as you fight for a man who would snap your next in a second for disobeying him, you'll always be worthless."
His eyes darkened and narrowed as they fixed on her. "Say it again," he hissed. "Look me in the eye and say it. I dare you."
Despite being bound with her wrists held behind her back, Ginny sat up with relative grace, her brown eyes fixed on his. "Malfoy," she said, her voice deceptively sweet. "You are worthless." Her eyes softened, but she never looked away. "Prove to me that I'm wrong about you. Do something."
For a moment, it seemed almost as though he hadn't heard her, like what she had said didn't completely register. His face was still as cold, his body language still as stoic as it had been, his eyes still looking obedient and empty. It was sad the kind of hold Voldemort had over him, and it was heartbreakingly obvious that he hated what he was constantly being forced to do. Draco Malfoy may have always been a mean, vile little git, but he had never been evil. Not really.
And then he closed his eyes for one brief second before dropping to his knees beside her, and before she knew what was happening, he was reaching behind her back to untie the ropes that held her still in one quick motion.
She massaged where the rough fibers had rubbed and burned her sensitive skin, flexing her wrists in a circular motion. Her muscles were tensed from having fought the restraints for so long, but she ignored it. She looked up at him, eyes wide and disbelieving. "Thank you," she said.
Draco swallowed visibly. "I can't leave you untied for too long," he said. "And you're going to have to pretend that I've done some awful things to you."
"That won't be so difficult," she answered wryly, thinking back to the first five years they had spent together at Hogwarts.
The corners of his lips turned up slightly, just enough to show his amusement. But then his expression darkened again, as though he'd forgotten where they were and what was going on in the world around them. "I'm sorry for... for whatever it is you've been going through," he said, looking obviously uncomfortable. "I wish I could... but then Mother... and I just don't..."
She pressed a finger to his lips gently. "I understand that we are different, Draco. I just needed you to know that – that if you ever wanted to fight, that is – that I'd be on your side."
Before he could change his mind, he leaned in and quickly planted a soft kiss against her lips, lingering there with his cold skin pressed against her warmth for just a second longer than necessary. "You called me Draco," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you, Ginny."
She smiled at him and let her head fall against his chest. She was cold and tired and frustrated, and all she needed was to feel safe for a moment. For thirty more minutes, they sat together in relative silence, knowing that in some ways, nothing had changed. But in a lot of ways, everything had.