Poisoned Arrow
Written for Round 3 of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Challenge. Also written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges and Assignments) Herbology Assignment 10.
Task: Write about the theme of rapid growth.
Position: Beater 2
Team: Appleby Arrows
WC: 2703
Prompt: Arrow(s) (6. Slytherin Character, 9. (Emotion) Exhilarated.
AN: AU although it follows all events up to the Battle of Hogwarts. This story doesn't stick to what we know about the events leading up to the epilogue. My word count restriction is 2551-2750.
A big thank you to my teammates, Ilprincipino and Screaming Faeries for beta-ing.
"Oh, Ginny, you look absolutely stunning!"
After her mother's proud exclamation, Ginny turned to look at herself in the mirror. The woman staring back at her was wearing an ivory, tulle ball gown with a crystal beaded bodice, thin bow waistband and capped sleeves. She was the perfect princess. A smile was plastered on the stranger's face, and she longed to rip the dress off and throw it down before Apparating to someplace far away. Her head hurt from all the wedding talk that her mother and Fleur found so fascinating: the wedding cake, the invitations, the bridesmaids' dresses. Ginny was buried, struggling to catch her breath with every item purchased and every word that left her family's mouth.
"Thank you, Mum," she tried to answer breezily, annoyed when a hint of wobbliness broke through her armour. Ginny could only hope that her mother didn't realise or would let it pass without comment. Of course, she had no such luck, as the Weasley matriarch pounced on her like a playful dog with a squeaky toy.
Her mother smiled kindly, but Ginny could tell she was about to start one of her uncomfortable talks. "You look like you're carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, dear. Do you want to sit down and talk about it? After all, this should be a happy day." Molly's eyes twinkled as she ended her sentence, no doubt lost in thoughts of Harry and Ginny having the wedding of their dreams and living happily ever after.
Unable to stand the heat from her mother's gaze, Ginny stared unfalteringly at her white gold engagement ring instead; it was a three stone diamond ring that featured a dazzling princess cut centre stone with two round brilliant cut side stones, all beautifully held in place with a four claw setting. Staring at the expensive ring increased her nerves, and she clenched her fist to stop herself from taking it off and chucking it across the room.
"Ahem."
Her attention returned once more to the plump woman in the lilac dress. Clearly too much time had passed without her responding to the question, and her mother was growing impatient with her silence. Summoning all her strength, she walked over to her bed and beckoned over the older witch. Once Molly had obliged, Ginny looked her in the eye and took a deep breath. "I'm going to be totally honest with you here, Mum, and I want your advice about what to do for the best."
An emotion that Ginny couldn't place flashed across Molly Weasley's face, but it was replaced with a smile before she could decipher it; the smile her mother currently wore usually made her feel warm and comforted, yet this time, it felt foreign to her.
"I'm all ears, my dear," Molly urged.
The moment of truth was upon them, and there was no going back now. She had to get the words out, but her mouth was like sandpaper. "Accio, goblet," she murmured while her mother rolled her eyes impatiently. Feeling a thrill at finally clawing back some control, she defiantly took her time. Placing the goblet on her bedside table, she blurted it out with no warning.
"I don't want to marry him, Mum."
To her credit, Molly didn't look at all surprised by her daughter's words. "Dear, it's usual to feel anxious on your wedding day, but don't worry because I'm here to talk some sense into you."
Her heart sank at these words. "But Mum-"
"No buts, Ginny, you've been in love with Harry since you were eleven years old. You're the princess in the fairytale, for Merlin's sake. How in the world can you say you don't want to marry Harry? I've never heard anything so ridiculous."
Molly opened her mouth as if to carry on with her tirade. Taking the brief pause as an opportunity to get her point across, Ginny cut her off. "I may have had a crush on 'The Boy Who Lived' in my first year, and it's true that these feelings turned into a true love for Harry Potter himself. The time that we were together in my fifth year, I was so happy I had to keep pinching myself to make sure it was real."
Molly grinned and patted her daughter's hand. "Well, there you go then, nothing to worry about at all. Shall we..."
"Let me finish. The thing is, when he left me to go on the Horcrux hunt, I was so angry at him for not trusting me to go with them. Now I know you're going to tell me it was for my own good, but it hurt me so much and I struggled to get past it, even when he returned and defeated Voldemort. Don't give me that look, Mother. He's long gone now and saying his name won't harm anyone."
Ignoring the last sentence, Molly cut to the chase. "So, all this is because you're mad at Harry?" Ginny confirmed this with a nod, and Molly continued. "Time heals all wounds, and Harry was just trying to protect you. He loves you, Ginny, and you will live a happy life together if you can overcome this and forgive him."
Ginny relished the silence that filled the room as she went over her mother's words. Was she right? Did time heal all wounds, or were some things too difficult to surmount? The older woman kissed her gently on the forehead and walked to the door. "I'll give you some time to think things through, and I know you'll make the right decision in the end. I love you, Ginny."
"I love you too, Mum," she whispered, speaking so quietly she didn't know if her voice had been heard. Unfortunately, the positive confidence of Molly couldn't be summoned. Whenever images of Harry flooded into her mind they were instantly swept away by someone else. A blond with smoky grey eyes and a trademark devil-may-care smirk, the boy who pierced her heart with a poisoned arrow, then left her alone to die slowly and painfully. His voice still echoed inside her head, the words etched permanently on her brain.
"We're from two different worlds, and this could never work out the way we want it to. I've got to marry Astoria Greengrass, as it's what my parents expect from me, and you should go back to Potter and try to make it work. The Weasleys and the Potters, officially one big, happy family—that's the way it's supposed to be. Goodbye, Ginny."
.oOo.
It still hadn't sunk in that her mischievous, funny and charming older brother was dead. She still half-expected him to come bounding in when they were gathered around the table at the Burrow, and her heart broke every time she realised that wasn't going to happen. Fred was gone, and they were never going to be a complete family again. It was like being stuck on pause, staring blankly ahead as the world continued to revolve around her. To be fair to Harry, he tried hard to comfort her and to be solid while she grieved, but it wasn't a role he excelled at, as he was usually the one being comforted; this was alien to them both.
Ginny was standing at Fred's grave when she met him, the person she least expected to see at the cemetery. Footsteps followed by a twig snapping clued her in on the fact that someone was nearby. When she turned around and saw Draco Malfoy, she scowled.
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Ginny asked, furiously wiping her tears away.
"Polite as always, Weasley," Draco said, but his voice lacked the usual venom she heard during the rare times they exchanged words. His lips curled upwards into the smirk that Ginny longed to hex off his face. She chose to ignore his comment and to release some of her grief on him.
"As you and your family were much too cowardly to stay and fight in the battle, why are you here? You didn't lose anyone, did you?"
He clenched his fists tightly, making her flinch at the power of his glare. Shame filled her as she remembered who his aunt was, and Ginny would've given anything to be able to grab her words and put them back in her mouth again, swallowing them whole and saving herself the mortification.
"I'm so…"
"Has it dawned on you who my aunt was? I wonder if your memory is too rusty to remember who killed her. Mummy dearest, wasn't it?" Draco hissed out the last part in a way that would've made Salazar Slytherin proud. Ginny felt her guilt fade away as her rage simmered to the surface, her cheeks turning red.
"To protect me, if you must know! I'm sorry for saying you didn't lose anyone, as I know you did—but that bitch deserved what she got for everything she's done to the people I love. I will never apologise for saying that because it's the truth."
To say he reacted in a way she didn't expect was the understatement of the year; she expected fury, but instead he snorted and curled up on the ground, laughing uncontrollably. Ginny stepped closer warily, uncertain of how to respond. Should she remain quiet or try to speak to him? He decided for her.
"You're right. How sad is that? My own sodding aunt, and I don't even feel upset about her death. She terrified me, and I will never forget the summer she taught me the unforgivable curses. The only person who mourns is my mother."
Ginny was startled by his rather frank admission, and once again she asked him the question. "Why are you here?"
He sighed and stood up. "For the same reason as you. I've come to grieve for a friend of mine. He's buried over there." He pointed to the left where she could see a large, marble tombstone. Ginny could take an educated guess about the friend he was referring to, having heard the story from Ron, Harry and Hermione.
"Vincent Crabbe," she replied sympathetically. Crabbe may have been a vile human being as far as she was concerned, but he still suffered a horrific and no doubt agonising death. She wouldn't even wish that on her worst enemy.
Draco was slightly taken aback, but he recovered quickly. "Yes. Crabbe. He may not have been the sharpest of people, but he was one of my oldest friends."
"I'm sorry," Ginny said, surprised at the sincerity in her voice.
Draco nodded and gave her a thin smile. "Thank you. I'm sorry about your brother. Fred, wasn't it?"
Pain filled her once more at the word 'brother' and the mention of his name. "Yes. Thank you. I still think he's going to walk into the room at any minute and pull a prank on someone."
Her stomach did somersaults when he grinned at her. "You know, even the Slytherins admired Fred and George, although they'd never admit it to anyone. Many thought the prank they pulled on Umbridge was a classic—myself included."
And that was how Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley tentatively became friends. Both felt relaxed in each other's company, and they were also free to say whatever they wanted without it getting back to anyone else. Unfortunately, neither could foresee that they would slowly start to fall in love; that was the beginning of the end, for a Malfoy could never love or marry a Weasley.
.oOo.
Cursing herself for allowing this mess to happen, Ginny wiped stubbornly at the tears that descended down her face. She was not usually an emotional girl, but everyone had their limits, and hers had been pushed to breaking point. Ginny picked up her monstrosity of a wedding dress and headed over to a picture of her and Harry. It was taken a few days after Harry's proposal, and he had his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. Every now and then he would glance at her in adoration and lean in to kiss her on the cheek. His fiancée was a deer caught in the headlights, trying her best to act like a woman madly in love and ecstatic about her engagement. Watching herself in the picture was like being pulled down into an abyss with no lifeline, and she had a vision of what her life as Mrs Potter would be like.
"You're doing brilliantly, Ginny! Just one more push…"
With a sob of anguish and one last agonising push, their first child was born. Ginny smiled with relief when she heard the first cry from the baby she'd carried for nine months.
"Congratulations, Mr and Mrs Potter. It's a boy," the healer told them excitedly as she placed the baby boy in Ginny's arms.
When she locked eyes with the tiny bundle of joy the rush of love was overwhelming; never had she held something so precious. It was a wonderful moment until Harry opened his mouth.
"Wow, he's perfect, Gin. Little James Albus Potter."
Her mouth dropped open. Didn't she get some say in the matter?
"James Albus?"
"Or Albus James, if you prefer. I always had my heart set on calling my son James, though."
Ginny understood that completely, but she had her heart set on giving her son the middle name of Arthur. "How about James Arthur? That way we both get to honour our fathers."
Harry's face fell, making Ginny regret her reasonable request and feel terrible for not agreeing. Too tired for the name battle right now, she sighed and gave in. "Actually, James Albus is growing on me. Perhaps if we have another boy we can give him Arthur as a middle name."
.oOo.
Ginny shuddered violently and cast a final glance at the woman in the mirror. The perfect woman who would finally make the hero of the wizarding world an official member of the Weasley family. Yet she didn't feel happy about any of this. She felt trapped.
Perhaps it was wrong of her to call Draco the boy who pierced her heart with the poisoned arrow. Her heart was poisoned the moment she got back together with Harry after the war, despite the fact that she was angry and a lot of things needed to be said first. Her family was so thrilled, especially after the loss of Fred. Who was Ginny to stop their happiness, even at the expense of her own? What a doormat. Now everyone was going to suffer for her rare refusal to summon her inner, brave Gryffindor.
Harry was definitely not a bad person, and she was certain that he would be a fine husband for some lucky woman. That woman was not her. The release Ginny felt at her moment of clarity was exhilarating. With a gleeful giggle, she pulled the veil out of her carefully made up hair and kicked her satin high heels off her feet. The immaculate bride was disappearing fast, and with every look at her reflection, Ginny edged closer to her true self, the fiery and opinionated young woman who didn't meekly sit back and accept her fate.
It was time for her to pull out the poisoned arrow and find an antidote before it destroyed her completely. She told herself it was like ripping off a plaster; it had to be done quickly. Summoning parchment and a quill, Ginny got to work writing the hardest letter she would ever have to write. The elation from earlier evaporated, and tears splashed onto the letter before she could stop them. When finished, she wrote a note to Draco asking him to meet her at Fred's grave. Just as her owl flew off to deliver it, a knock at the door startled her into action. It was time to make an escape before it was too late.
She Apparated to the cemetery.
.oOo.
Hours passed, and still she waited for him. At the sound of footsteps, chills ran down her spine. With a silent prayer, she turned around to look into the steel grey eyes of the man she loved. The look of adoration on his face took her breath away.
She was home.