Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the characters. I only own the plot bunny's that visit me in the middle of the night.
A/N: So, this is a Draco/Ginny fic, with a bit of a twist. After Harry went off to chase Horcruxes, I found myself wondering what was happening at Hogwarts. Jo never really gave us any details (obviously) so I found myself sparked with the idea to fill in the blanks, sort of. In my version, Draco and Ginny met in the library. They would argue, exchange insults, and study. Eventually, the insults gave way to mindless talk, and debates about life, and the mysteries of the universe. Soon they developed a friendship, then became closer. Ginny kept this a secret from all of her friends, and Draco likewise. Draco began to fall in love with the enchanting red-head, and Ginny with him, though Ginny didn't realize it. She was still pining away for Harry. Song is Bed Of Lies, by my bestfriend. (If you want to use the song, please credit me) So here's the fic!
For this world is built upon a bed of lies
Greed and envy spawn from power
There's nothing you can love, only despise
When your very own senses deceive
With our wills taken
There is only manipulation
In this bed of lies and spying eyes
Ginny ran down the hallway, running from the Deatheater who was chasing her. No tears were down her face, though faded tracks were there. She had just watched Dean Thomas, her first love, die next to her. Her mum had ordered her to stay out of the fighting, but Ginny was too stubborn. She thought she could take them all on. And Dean paid the price. She didn't want to die, she thought to herself, dodging through the haze of smoke and rebounding spells. She wanted to go back home, to her family. And Harry. Her heart caught in her throat and Ginny nearly stumbled at the thought of the Boy Who Lived, His jet-black hair and his bright green eyes. A memory of him, kissing her, popped into her mind and she choked back a sob. He had told her he loved her. He had showered her with affection, given her a daisy, and kissed her by the lake. She had been overjoyed, as she had been the one who caught the heart of the Chosen One, The Boy Who Lived. He told her there would be a happy ever after for her, but instead he had gone off with her brother and Hermione, not even writing to her. He claimed it was too dangerous, that their location would be known, and Ginny conceded he had a point. But it still hurt like hell to think that Harry had gone off, gallivanting into the sunset and forgetting her. So far, her happily ever after was not so happy.
But where do you turn?
When there is no one, nowhere
What do you do?
How can you possibly fight fate?
Is this all real?
All the innocence has gone
And therein lies the final question
Ginny was running blindly, memories and tears obstructing her vision as the Deatheater laughed softly behind her. He was merely playing with her, toying with her. She knew it was no longer a matter of whether she lived or died, but when, and how. She wondered how painful it would be. She wondered what he would do to her. What would happen to her dead body after she was gone. She thought about the people she loved - her brothers, all of them. Fred and George, her favorite pranksters, Ron, the overprotective one, Charlie, the caring one, Percy, the annoying but kind prat, and Bill, her favorite brother. The one who protected her, guided her, helped her become strong. She thought of her mum, who had been one of the sweetest people he'd ever met and helped her through being the only girl in a family of boys. Of her dad, and his silly, albeit cute, obsession with muggle objects. Of Hermione, one of her best friends, and how she had become so much more than a bossy overbearing know-it-all. Of Katie and Alicia, because even though they were older than she, they had remained close friends, playing Quidditch together and spending Hogsmeade weekends hanging out together. She thought of Colin and his adorable obsession with photography. Of Neville, her true bestfriend, even with his crush on her. Luna, with her view of the world that was oh so different, but always managed to cheer Ginny up. And... Well, it hurt too much to think of Harry.
This shadowy realm is losing it's appeal
Running endlessly will get us nowhere
In a haze of smoke it's surreal
Knives and chains they bind our pain
Lace and leather
Barbed wire and screams
In this bed of lies and spying eyes
So Ginny ran. Faster and faster until her lungs were screaming, her legs about to give out and her brain woozy. Ginny's vision was beginning to blur, her legs were getting wobbly, and she felt tipsy - as though she had drank copious amounts of firewhiskey. Her throat burned, much akin to the sensation too. But still, she kept pushing herself. Dodging through the thick air, still smoky with the dust that hadn't settled, Ginny could hear the Deatheater behind her. He was gaining. She could tell from his mocking laugh, coming more and more often, and the spells. Oh god the spells. They were coming closer and closer to hitting her, hissing by her, making her try and run even further. Ginny knew she couldn't run for much longer.
But where do you turn?
When there is no one, nowhere
What do you do?
How can you possibly fight fate?
Is this all real?
All the innocence has gone
And therein lies the final question
So when Ginny could feel herself slowing through the confused, panicking muddle of thoughts, it was no surprise. She had expected it to happen - she had just hoped that somehow, maybe, there was a hope of outrunning the Deatheater. He had fallen behind, tripping over a dead acromantula. Or so she assumed, having leaped over it herself and hearing a loud thud and many colourful curse words spew from the person chasing her. Ginny tried to push harder, to feel the fire in her limbs, the adrenaline that pushed her, but there was nothing. Only the ever-growing feeling that her limb's were turning to lead and that she was closer and closer to death.
Drifting lost alone, through space and through time
Futile our efforts are
Black upon black, blade upon blade
The of death isn't far
These wounds will not heal, it seems nothing is real
In this bed of lies and spying eyes.
Ginny hoped she could be brave in death. She had always wanted to die in some heroic way - in place of someone she loved, perhaps, or caught in a wayward curse as she was defending someone. Maybe a tragic accident, in which people would learn from her death, or maybe she would end up a martyr, living on even after death. But not like this. Buried deep in the recesses of the ruined castle, far away from everyone else, Ginny was going to die. It could be that her family would never find her body. Maybe she would be stuck in this never-ending maze forever. Dying from a curse in the back as she tried to flee from the man who was chasing her. She ought to be ashamed. She wish she could whip out her wand and spin around, screaming the Killing Curse and ending this once and for all. But her wand lay somewhere in the rubble of the castle, she thought, and there was no room in her brain to stop. She could only keep running.
But where do you turn?
When there is no one, nowhere
What do you do?
How can you possibly fight fate?
Is this all real?
All the innocence has gone
And therein lies the final question
It was hopeless. Ginny knew she only had moments left. The Deatheater was drawing closer, limping because of his ankle - twisted, she thought, from the sound of it. Ginny was tired, dead tired, tired of running, tired of being a coward, tired of living. She had been suicidal for the longest time - really, she had been depressed ever since the diary in her first year. Having Tom take over her.. No. She told herself. It's Voldemort, not Tom. But Ginny could close her eyes, and still see the crystal-clear picture of Tom standing before her, smiling at her with a haunting expression in his eyes as she drifted off to sleep, tired of fighting him. She was tired now, too. Tom, she thought to herself. Tom, I'm so tired. Do you even remember me? Or was i just a pawn in your games? Ginny knew all along that she was only being used. That was what she had never shared before. She had known in her heart all along that Tom was using her. She had planned to figure out what he wanted, and then bring the diary to Professor Dumbledore. But falling in love with him was never part of the plan.
Trapped in my own cage of misery
You're my personal brand of hell
I wouldn't have it any other way
So i bitterly wish you well
Why bother fighting
When we'll never win?
In this bed of lies and spying eyes
She was hit with a spell, Crucio, she was almost sure of it. The Deatheater had fallen, twisting his ankle further, making it spin all the way around. She heard the second crack and the scream of pain, and the failed attempts to try and heal it. Finding a tiny grain of energy left, Ginny pushed herself. She wasn't sure how she was doing it - spots danced in her vision, and her breath came shorter and shorter. Ginny numbly noted that the Deatheater shrieked something, and then the spell hit her between her shoulder blades. The pain... Ginny was not a stranger to pain, or the Cruciatus Curse, but the twisted, sickening hatred and loathing the Deatheater had poured into the curse dropped Ginny to her knees almost immediately. Screaming in tortured agony, she dragged herself to her feet, gasping as the spell shook her body, extreme pain like nothing ever than before. She just wanted to curl up and die, here and now, but something kept pushing her, driving her on. Ginny was so close to just giving up.
But where do you turn?
When there is no one, nowhere
What do you do?
How can you possibly fight fate?
Is this all real?
All the innocence has gone
And therein lies the final question
Stumbling along as fast as she could, as the last tremors of the spell shocked through her, Ginny gasped for breath. Light-headedness had almost completely took over, and the world spun, making colours spin together. Everything was slow, so slow, when something wrapped itself around her middle. Ginny barely registered it, only that she was being dragged into a abandoned classroom, in which stood a lonely mirror.
"Ginny, wake up, Ginny.."
Ginny realized she was starting to drift off now.
"Ginny, please, don't leave me, please Ginny, wake up, wake up..."
The voice was coming in and out of focus, like a badly tuned radio. It was fading faster, like she was underwater. She knew the voice - but her brain was foggy, and she couldn't identify it. Suddenly, a burst of clarity came through and she gasped for breath.
"Stay with me, please."
Ginny opened her eyes and stared at Draco Malfoy.
In this bed of lies and spying eyes
Ginny clutched to Draco as he stepped through the mirror, coming out into a huge, plush room. Draco swiftly carried her over to the bed, laying her down as gently as a porcelain doll. Ginny dimly noted that the entire room was done in green, black, and blue - Draco's favorite colours. Pulling out his wand, Draco repeated healing spells, over and over, trying to imbibe her with healthy energy to heal her. She could feel her body reject the magic though - Draco was only using simple spells, scared of damaging her. Too much power could overload her system and completely kill her - but her body rejecting the energy was even worse. Ginny would die, slowly and painfully, as her organs killed themselves off. Draco was saying something, over and over, in-between spells, and Ginny realized he was talking to her, pleading her to stay with him.
She wanted to tell him she would, that she would stay with him.
But she couldn't say a word.
In this bed of lies and spying eyes.
Draco knew she was dying. He could see the spells dissipate and discolour. Draco could tell her system was rejecting it. Her body had been put through too much, and now she would die. His princess would die on his bed, in his arms, without ever knowing his secret. He had to save her. She couldn't leave him, not like everyone else he ever loved. Draco tried another spell. It turned blackish-brown and faded. No. This was not happening. Draco could hear her heart, fluttering in her chest. Her heartbeat was so weak, so fragile. He took a deep breath, rolling up his sleeves. He had to. He had to try. There was only one way to save her - but the question was, at what cost?
If it was only his life, he would do it in an instant.
But this was powerful magic, Dark Magick to be more specific. Magick that wizarding historians thought lost to the crumbling grip of time. But it had been passed down, in the ancient pure-blooded families, and so survived.
The cost of this Magick, was something Draco wasn't sure he could take. He would have to give her the energy - thus, imbuing her with powerful Dark Magick. It could have a number of possibilities. She could die, her body rejecting the transformation. Or she could live, but die from the potent power now residing in her. Or she could come out of it completely different - with a darkness now in her. Would she hate him, for saving her? Draco wondered. Or would he rather die, than be a Princess of Darkness? Because that's what she would be, as he made her, and he was a Prince of Darkness, as per the royal line. Titles, long-thought forgotten, had survived in the pure-bloods. Something only those in Slytherin and Ravenclaw's hierarchy highest would know, and only few of those held.
Draco didn't know how she felt about it, but he knew he couldn't live without her.
He didn't have a choice.
Draco placed his hands on her chest, and sent a dream of the Darkest, most powerfully pure Dark Magick that resided in his blood, straight into her heart.
Maybe now she would love him, as he always had her.
Kisses and Cupcakes to anyone who reviews!