Hush
By Diet Cigarette
His voice was itchy, cracking sporadically as he spoke.
"Why?" The hurt in his eyes shined through, piercing through her core. She didn't reply, she wouldn't. She wasn't truly sure herself.
"I was afraid." She tried to excuse, as she closed her eyes for a time. The mark on her arm didn't sting, but the pressure on her chest was increasing, prickling and burning. She reached out to him, attempting to rub his arm but he recoiled back, avoiding contact all together. He refused to even look up to meet her closed gaze.
"Ginny," Harry uttered, shaking his head in disbelief. "Just.." He was at a loss of words. His scar burned, and complete shock attained his body. "Leave."
"Harry, you have to unders-"
"I said, leave, didn't I?" He gathered his thoughts, inhaling deeply, and turning his back. "Leave, I won't say it again."
She pierced her lips together, her eyes squinting. She wouldn't cry, she could no longer weep after all the pain she was consumed in. The rain outside tapped at the windows, the night sky encasing the home. She wrapped her arms around herself as she glumly stepped to the door.
"I beg your forgiveness." She voiced in a hushed tone, wrapping her skinny fingers around the cold doorknob, and twisting it. The door swung open, the gusting wind whistling as she stepped through the frame. As her body exited the manor, she heard the crashing of glass behind her. He had hurled something against the wall in anger, but she ignored his raged woes and treaded down the path, her black robes ruffling behind her.
She apparated back to his mansion. She loathed that he had had control over her in her school days, but now, she had come to accept her fate as a murderer. He gave her a home, and he often seemed to embrace her company. She had to appreciate that fact.
However, Ginevra always found herself going back to take shelter under his roof. Maybe it was because she had no where else to turn. Perhaps it was because during the dead of night, she wanted shadows to retreat under. Either way, he granted her that privilege; to run and hide and shield herself from the entire world.
Harry.
She wanted to desperately to care and to regret her decisions. Ginevra yearned for the large lump in her chest to increase with fear, love, or even hatred, but her emotions seemed to have faded. Numb to the entire situation, she couldn't find it inside herself to care.
She had before concluded that when eventually told him, she would be angry if he refused to accept her, but that was far from factual. Ginevra knew she had no right. She had betrayed him, it was not the other way around.
She began filling the pearly white bathtub with steaming hot water as she sat upon it's edges. The oil lamps burning dully, just giving off enough light for her chestnut eyes to adjust and distinguish shadows from darkness inside the lavatory. The walls of the immense bathroom were colored maroon, the tile an obscure gray. Besides the massive tub located in the rear of the room, there was a small sink and a toilet place at opposite ends.
As the water reached it's limit, she stood, letting the long black robes slight down her creamy arms, revealing her naked body. She stepped in, the calescent fluid adjusting to her entrance. It burned, but her insensitive flaxen skin did not draw back.
Sitting down, the young woman elongated her legs as much as possible, until her toes touched the heated front of the large basin. She laid back, most of her body submerged in the water. Ginevra was not concerned with washing her body at the moment, as of then, she needed to relieve her aching muscles. She needed to relax, if at all possible.
Slowly closing her eyes, she rested. Ginevra's breathing grew rigid as her thoughts moved over to her brother. She hadn't explained to Harry about his death. It was either herself, or Ron.
Poor, dense, small minded Ronald. He had no clue. No one had the slightest idea that their precious Ginny was changing right under their noses. Unbenonced to everyone, even Remus, her ears were being whispered to, suggested to.
It was that diary that got to her first. That beautiful, understanding, diary. It suggested, and she obeyed. Of course, she had a choice then. She could've refused to comply, but why would she defy the book, when it was the only sympathetic character in her life.
At the end of sixth year, she then turned to Draco, who had later brought her to the source of the diary itself. Oh, yes, once she laid sight upon the Dark Lord, she was immediately cast down to her knees in astonishment. His aura was overwhelmingly powerful. He was frightening, yet more so, beckoning.
In a series of events, she was baited. The once strength and ferocity that Ginny once had, was harnessed and put to great use as Ginevra was born. Reborn, to put it more correctly. Her exact birth date was now only a few weeks old, so young, and yet so dangerously lethal.
But Ron, he was so trusting; so gullible. She had almost forgotten the expression upon his face until she was reminded so by Harry earlier that evening. With a sigh, her memories recalled his petrified gaze, staring at her in all amazement of her deceit. He said not a word to her in his last moments.
There was no use as she sent a green flash a light hurling towards him. As he lay frigid, and increasingly growing cold, she took sight upon his face; one of absolute terror and pain.
The atmosphere in the room changed, she assumed he had entered.
"May I help you?" She questioned, her eyes still tied shut. There was no reply, but the force was still moving forward, as if a lion upon prey. Nay, a snake. She made no attempt to cover her revealed body, instead, she concentrated upon his location, which, was hard to distinguish as he slithered closer and closer so gracefully.
The water was played with, fingers gently filtering through it.
"You're going to burn yourself." A male voice commented in a hushed tone. It was quite close.
"I'm fine, Draco." She corrected, at last fluttering her lids unsealed. He did not reply, just sat at her side, gazing down to his reflection in the water. She was impressed that he was not inspecting her body, though she laid out provocatively. She looked to his bleached hair as it dangled in front of his eyes.
It was cut chin length, and thinning with apparent stress. She could clearly make out his beautifully poisonous gray eyes. The same eyes that always held her attention, and made her beg for more entrance into his thoughts.
She watched as he started to create movement. He lifted up his left arm, and pulled up his black robes from his limb, revealing the same tattoo they both shared. It hadn't faded since he had received it. Bewitching. The inked skull with a serpent entangled through the rotted out openings.
His other, untouched arm dipped into the scalding water. He, too, seemed unaware of it's smoldering temperature. Draco grabbed a hold of her marked arm, and pulled it from the liquid, holding it with delicacy. Ginevra made no attempt to withdraw from his manipulation, she only lay still and allowed him to work.
He turned over her now flushed and scarlet arm. She was scarred with the same autograph. A beastly and corrupt smirk appeared upon his lips. He placed their tattoos over one another, sensually allowing them to collide.
She had no accurate explanation for his actions, but she still chose not to resist. He was not hurting her, and to pull back would waste energy she was not equipped with.
"Draco?" She murmured, her gaze still fixated upon his eyes.
He looked up whilst their fore-arms still laid touching.
"Yes?" He responded.
"Are we going to hell?" She wondered, her jaw clenching. She knew his answer, but she still wished it were different.
"Yes." He causally informed her, without hesitation. It seemed he had already realized this fact and had grown to accept it. She nodded, not conflicting with his remark.
"and are we mad?" She expressed her thoughts once more.
"Perhaps." He simply replied. She had contemplated the possibility of a mental disorder one too many times, but she decided not to blame her choices upon madness. She was sure it was her will that had placed her into her own, cold, existence as Ginevra. She just needed Draco to confirm her theory. He hadn't.
She slide away from his touch, recoiling back and pulling herself up, and standing to her feet. She was dripping droplets of water and her usually fair skin flushed from the heat. Her was fiery red hair untouched and dry with the exception of the ends which had been submerged.
Draco then turned and looked at her, admiring her curves as she swung her legs over the fiberglass barrier, and treading into her quarters. He watched her exit, but said not a word.
"Will you lay with me tonight?" He heard her call from the other room. He raised in eyebrow in suspicion, and followed her, dark shadows cast upon his features.
"What are you getting at, Weasley?" His normal, cocky attitude returning to his persona.
"Sleep in my bed tonight. I don't want to be alone." She explained, wrapping a black silk robe that she had retrieved from the closet around her freshly renewed self.
He nodded in accordance after a moment, leaning against the doorway, watching her tie the matching sleek band around her waist. Ginevra sighed, ignoring the mirror held before her. She would not waste her time on how she viewed herself.
She paced to the extensive Victorian window, peering to the outside grounds. It was barely visible through the thick rain and fog, but she could identify the tree tops, and large iron gates surrounding the manor. Inhaling deeply, she turned around to face him.
He was still in his same position in the aperture. He held not a smirk, nor a smile. His lips were at a stand still, firmly straight and emotionless. Her visual was just the same, as she made her way toward the expensively decorated mattress. Pillows and shams of pale blue covered the thick comforter, she bothered not to move them, and just pulled the quilt from under them.
"Come." She commanded, seating herself down, and throwing her legs up in succession. She propped her back up against the stuffed cases, waiting for him to join her for a night of tranquility. He stood still.
"You told Potter?" He questioned, folding his arms, and leaning his head against the frame. She casted her glimpse over toward him, examining his appearance throughly. She could not tell if this was a positive or negative. Though she was curious to whether she would be punished for mentioning her membership, she figured Draco would not tell anyone. He had no one to tell now that he shared a forty room home to only the two of them.
"Yes." She responded truthfully. He picked himself up, advancing to the middle of the room. He removed his shirt, throwing it to the side, and revealing his livid chest. His hair grew messy as the clothing was tossed over his head. Draco didn't seemed to mind as he carried forward in unbuttoning his pants.
She watched his inquisitively, her eyes running over his anatomy. Strong arms, thick muscles; She had to admit, she wouldn't mind having him as her own, but now was not the time to think of such physical things.
But in an emotionless world, what is there but the physical?
"He'll never forgive you, you're aware of that, right?" He questioned her. She ignored him though, more concerned in her thoughts. Oh, how she detested the naughty little voices in the back of her head.. Those voices were the exact reason she was in this predicament. The logical front seemed to never victor.
Draco was left in his boxers, as he approached her. He climbed next to Ginevra, following her suit as he covered himself with the covers. Her guise never altering once. As he yawned extensively, she couldn't help but notice he turned to the opposite direction, staring to the wall.
Something inside her wanted him to slumber facing her. Something stirring wanted him to want her. She ignored those naive emotions, and starred up, gazing toward the ceiling in unconscious interest. After a few odd moments, both their thoughts drifted into a dreamless coma.
Copyright J.K Rowling's characters and such.
I'm not sure if this'll be a one-shot, or if I should add a few chapters. Please do tell me your opinion on this decision.