Draco Malfoy did not know what to expect from this year's school term.
His father had told him of a task, however he had not elaborated on the details beyond "helping the Dark Lord" which could have meant many different things. And so he went in blind, unsure and wavering on his loyalties, part of him wishing to be strong enough to go against his father and Voldemort, while the other part of him said to just keep going, this was the only way to ensure his own safety after all. If he turned against them, he would be dead, he'd realized that a long time ago.
The first thing he noticed was the amount of students had dwindled even more that year. In the three years since Voldemort had risen from a concoction of blood, bone, and sacrifice, more and more students had disappeared from the student ranks 'til there was almost nobody left. Most of the remaining students were of parents loyal to Voldemort- or at least of ones who pretended to be. Most, but not all. Some Muggleborns still remained as did some of the half-bloods, and even some of those labeled blood traitors. He had seen a few of those such people- Longbottom and his lot- on the train before he'd shut himself away into the compartment he shared with his own comrades.
The second thing he'd noticed was the atmosphere. Hogwarts had always seemed to remain untainted by the darkness that Voldemort spread. But this year… This year it had finally broken in. At the head table, gone were their beloved teachers, some replaced by Voldemort's own Death Eaters. The Carrow siblings sat side by side, each smirking as they looked out over the pitiful sea of students; Snape of course still occupied the Headmaster's chair, his dark hair longer than ever, his black eyes darting this way and that way as the students awaited the usual beginning of the year speech. When he finally rose up, Draco noticed the man was aging and had thinned out a bit since they'd last seen one another only a few months prior. "Good evening, students," Snape called out, his voice magnified in the large, quiet room. "This is a year of change. A year surely to be fully of triumphs."
Across the hall, all ears heard the female voice that scoffed, and then all eyes turned to the source. A young female sat at the Gryffindor table, her head held in her hand, a bored look to her pretty face. Ginny Weasley, Draco thought as she shifted in her chair, red hair falling down her back like a waterfall. He had never realized how beautiful it actually was, until he was staring at it from across the room, it's length long and its color rich. He'd always thought it obnoxious when it came to her brothers and in truth, he had never paid the girl much mind over the years to have noticed. "Do you have something to say, Miss Weasley?" Snape called out, his dark eyes regarding the girl with irritation. Every single student in the Great Hall was watching the girl, waiting with baited breath for whatever response she was going to give. She merely sighed, sitting up a little straighter as she pinned her headmaster with her intense gaze. Snape arched a brow, as if surprised by her silence, and then turned away as if he thought the moment to be over. "As I was saying- this is to be a year of triumphs. Those of you who have returned to this school will be a witness to them all." He cast a glance left and then right, noticing that the Weasley girl was still staring him down, her gaze powerful. "Then Dark Lord will be pleased to welcome those loyal to him and his cause into his ranks when they have come of age-"
"No!"
The whole student body jumped as the voice rang out, sharp and clear; all eyes turned back to Ginny Weasley, who had jumped to her feet, eyes blazing. "No?" Snape questioned, his eyes narrowing in his anger, his hand curling into a fist at his side. To his left, Professor McGonagall sat on the edge of her seat, fear flickering across her features.
"You can't build him an army with students from this school." Ginny spat, her heart pounding, eyes never leaving Snape's as she stood tall, her slight shoulders squared in her defiance. For several long moments there was nothing but stunned silence. Snape stood before them all, frozen by his anger and shock at this teen girl that was challenging him a mere ten minutes into the first evening back. He should have known better.
"Can't I?" Snape asked, shrugging his shoulders, as if it didn't matter what she said. "You had best learn your place." A snicker. Some of the Slytherins around him laughed as well, as if they even knew what they were laughing about. "I think you've set a new record for the earliest detention. Sit down, Weasley." The girl did not sit and instead, remained standing for a few moments longer, before she turned and stalked down the aisles between the tables, her head held high, her hair billowing behind her, a floral scent catching Draco off guard as she strode past where he sat. And then she was gone, slamming the Great Hall door behind her, leaving the student body stunned and whispering. Snape, unsure where to go from there, clapped his hands and at once the feast appeared upon their tables. Nothing would distract the students from what had just happened, however, and it would be the source of gossip for the weeks to come.
Draco looked up in time to see the male Carrow leaning over to whisper something into Snape's ear, who then nodded and looked out onto the student body. At once he found Draco's gaze and something dark settled into the pit of his stomach. He didn't like that look at all.
[ x x x ]
It only took a few hours for the message to arrive. He was summoned at once to Snape's old office- the one usually reserved for the Potion's professor. As he reached for the door knob, the door instead swung open, and Alecto Carrow stood before him, her red hair pulled back from her face, her eyes full of something Draco could not quite name. He was let enter and he could not help but to glance over his shoulder, to ensure the woman did not come after him like this was a trap of some kind. As he turned back around, his gray eyes fell upon a sight he was not ever prepared to see: someone laying on the floor at Snape's feet, a female he could tell, facedown and unmoving. "Ah, Draco you're here," Snape said easily, stepping around the body to come and stand before him. "Your father told you of your task, I take it?" Draco nodded, not speaking up that there had been no details given to him. He was peering over Snape's shoulder, trying to catch a better glimpse of whoever it was on the floor. "You will escort those who serve detention to and from and perhaps to the Hospital Wing, should they require it." Hospital Wing, Draco thought and suddenly it dawned on him. The unconscious girl. The three adults, all with their wands out, all on the side of Voldemort. This was not detention, this was torture. He found he could not speak so her merely nodded, forcing his gaze away from the body on the floor. Amycus, the brother of the siblings, had stepped around to the female then, using his foot to push her over.
Across the room, a wand tip flared, suddenly casting the room into a dim, hazy sort of light. Draco blinked and at once, the red hair became visible, its color brilliant against the stone floor. His face must have betrayed his shock for the three adults laughed at his expense and Snape reached out to touch his shoulder, a gesture like a father might give to his son. He stepped back slightly, not quite wrenching his shoulder from Snape's grasp; they met one another's gaze and Snape merely smiled and turned away. "Get up, girl," Amycus was bending over her, slapping her cheek, forcing her back to consciousness on the floor.
Ginny groaned, the pain her body felt intense, like white-hot knives stabbing every inch of her skin. The slapping brought her fully back and her eyes snapped open, the disgusting sight of Amycus Carrow the first thing she saw. She closed her eyes and said nothing. Shuffling feet told her he had stepped back and her eyes opened once more, now all she could see was the ceiling. "Take her away." Snape ordered and for a moment, Ginny expected to feel the rough hands of the Carrow siblings yanking her off the ground. Footsteps sounded and then the door opened and closed, leaving Ginny to wonder if she'd actually been left alone. But then, warm, strong hands were on her, those same hands gently lifting her up from the floor and into a sitting position. The pain forced her to close her eyes and she willed away the tears forming behind her lids; she had never experienced torture and she'd lost count over how many times the siblings had nailed her with the curse.
Her eyes opened and she was surprised by the face staring back at her. "Malfoy?" She whispered, blinking fast, her head suddenly swimming. As she began to slump, those same warm hands were at her shoulders, keeping her upright and she opened her eyes again, a small smile toying with her lips. "What are you doing here?" Her voice was soft, full of pain, but her eyes were bright and seemed to swallow him whole as he looked into them. He had never been this close to her before.
"I'm here to escort you." He said sharply, suddenly remembering who he was; he was a Malfoy. He didn't like blood traitors like her. She was on the other side. She was his enemy. He pulled his hands away from her, as if disgusted by touching her, but he could not shake the strange, empty feeling he suddenly felt in the pit of his stomach. "Well, get up," he said, as if exasperated, his arms hanging at his sides for several moments before he heaved a sigh and extended one for her to take. "Come on." After what felt like an eternity, she reached up and took his hand, hers so small it fit perfectly within his grasp. He felt the electric charge shoot up his arm and something passed over her face, as if she felt something too. Clearing his throat, he lightly pulled her onto her feet, watching as she wobbled, threatening to topple over before he took hold of her again. It certainly didn't seem like they'd get very far this way. "Sit down." he ordered, guiding her towards a desk that had long been abandoned. He deposited her in the chair and she leaned forwards, her head resting on the edge of the desk, her breathing shallow and slow.
Standing over her, so weak and quiet, it was strange. It was obvious that they'd given her a full dosage of the Cruciatus Curse- repeatedly. He remembered his own turn under the curse, given by his own father a few months ago, how he had felt just after one time. Knowing the Carrow's, as well as Snape, there was no doubt she'd been attacked numerous times. "Do you want to go to the Hospital Wing?" He asked, his voice low, but he was trying to maintain the persona she knew.
Hearing his words, her head snapped up, brown eyes narrowing as if he'd asked her if she wanted him to murder her family. "No," she spat, fierce determination lighting her up from within. She was suddenly jumping to her feet, ignoring the shooting pains, ignoring the lightheadedness it brought on. She pushed past him, making it an astonishing three steps before stumbling. Draco was there to catch her, his hands shocking her for the third time that evening. "No…" She mumbled, shaking her head, her voice soft and Draco could feel her body trembling beneath his touch. "I don't need help," she said, looking up at him and for a moment, he truly believed her. He knew that if he left her to her own devices, she would indeed make it back to the Gryffindor common room. He knew it would take her hours, it would take her all night, but she would do it on her own just to prove that she could. Draco felt something soften inside his heart and he cursed himself for it.
"Fine." He said, letting go and stepping back, keeping his eyes upon her. "Go on then." He said as if he didn't care at all what she did or what happened to her. In truth, he didn't… Did he? She focused her gaze on him, those brown eyes of hers so full of emotion that he could not look her dead in the eye. He glanced away, arms folding over his chest before he looked back to her, only to find she'd turned away. She was taking a tentative step, then another, and another. She reached the door, pausing, her breathing deep and even, her face gone ashen. Bloody hell she was stubborn.
She didn't need his help. She didn't want his help. Her hand took hold of the door knob and she pulled the door open, escaping out into the dark hallway. It was past time for being out of bed, so the halls were clear and dark. Putting her hand against the wall, she began to make her way down the hall, each step slow and painful, her vision blurring as she fought to stay conscious. After what felt like an eternity, she'd only made it to the steps that would lead to the first floor, which meant there were still six to go before she'd even reach the floor the common room was on. Bloody hell, what was she thinking? She heard his footsteps approaching and she sighed, keeping her eyes trained on the steps ahead of her. "I don't need you." She said when his footsteps silenced, telling her that he was directly behind her.
"It's okay to need help," the words had left his lips before he could stop them. In an instant she had whirled around, her hair swinging with her, and then those eyes were on his. Suddenly, Ginny was reminiscent of a few years back, the year Dumbledore had died, and of something that Harry had said. About how Draco had been crying in the bathrooms, how the only person he could turn to was the ghost of Moaning Myrtle. Blinking, she felt the fight go out of her and her knees give way. She landed on the bottom step and for several long moments they remained in those poses, he standing before her, she on the step, staring at each other as if silence could say it all. And in their case, it did. Draco finally reached out a hand for her to take and though she seemed hesitant, it only took a few seconds before she took it, allowing him to help her up. Without another word, Draco slipped an arm around her waist and hers went over his shoulder and with his help and many stops along the way, they made it to the seventh floor and stood before the sleeping Fat Woman.
Silence.
Ginny felt the heat creeping into her face and she shuffled her weight from foot to foot, unsure of what to say or to do. Draco certainly seemed unsure as well, for he was running a hand through his blonde locks, looking away from her. "Well, get some rest." Draco muttered, turning away from her as if he made to walk away.
"Draco," her soft voice pulled him back and he turned back around, to see her standing there with a sheepish sort of smile on her face. "See you tomorrow," she then said, by way of goodbye, and she turned to climb through the portrait hole, only after uttering the password. As she disappeared through it, he caught onto the meaning behind her last few words. Her detention wasn't over.
