Chapter Two: Pas de Trois
Déjà vu swept over Ginny as the emerged in the Malfoys' opulent receiving salon. Before she had a chance to absorb the Louis XV furniture and heavy brocade curtains, the same house-elf that had prevented her retreat on Christmas Day poked her head in the doorway; when she caught sight of Ginny, her ears flapped energetically. "Miss!" she cried. "You must come with me, please!"
The creature seemed unusually agitated. Something felt wrong. As Ginny darted into the hallway and up the stairs after the elf, a shriek reverberated through the house. "…NOT SLEEP with you…!" a female cried.
The house-elf cringed noticeably but barreled onwards. "You is here!" she said unnecessarily. "Master will be pleased!" Her maniacal tone did little to cover a second voice.
"…said…helpful!"
"…not what I…"
"Just forget it, Pansy, okay?" By now, Ginny and the house-elf were outside the door all the commotion was coming from.
"A moment," the house elf chirped to Ginny, and threw the door open with impunity. Ginny froze in horror a few paces back, not wanting to look like she was a voyeur unto the tableau playing out before her.
Draco was dwarfed in a large four-poster bed, seated like a disgruntled despot king with covers over his lap. He looked exceptionally haggard, similar to how he had been in Azkaban, except he was wearing decadent satin pyjamas instead of rags. Pansy Parkinson stood beside the bed with her back mostly to Ginny, one hand on her hip. Her robes were rumpled-looking, a departure from how Ginny usually saw her. Typically, Parkinson's school robes were immaculate and somehow much more flattering than Ginny's identical set. "You know, your attitude isn't helping matters," she snapped to Draco.
The house-elf caught Draco's eye and his gaze moved past her to where Ginny was cringing in the shadows. His features immediately rearranged from a haughty and annoyed expression to something more indicative of a quiet and desperate hope.
Parkinson let out an exasperated sigh. "And if you think ignoring me's going to…." Her voice died as she cast a glance over her shoulder and saw what Draco was looking at. "Widow Potter?" she blurted, too dumbfounded to even reach for her wand. "What are you doing here?" When Ginny didn't volunteer an answer, she looked back to Draco for an explanation.
Triumph was written into his smug smile. "You can go now, Pansy."
"And house-elves have wings," she snorted derisively, turning on Ginny. "Get lost, Widow Potter. I don't know why you're here, but you're not wanted."
"See here, Puggy," Ginny started, bristling, "I don't care-"
"Oh, but she is," Draco interjected smoothly. "She's here to relieve you. And I'd prefer it if my guests didn't refer to each other by vile names."
Truly confused now, Parkinson was doing her best to keep both Draco and Ginny in her sights. "You can't be serious."
"You need to get some rest, Pansy. It's for the best."
The prospect of sleep gave Parkinson pause; Ginny could see the dark circles under the other girl's eyes. Perhaps Draco hadn't been exaggerating when he said neither of them had slept for days. Finally, she stalked up to Ginny. "I don't know what you're playing at here, Widow Potter," she growled under her breath, "but if you undo my work here, I'll hunt you down and make you very sorry, understand?"
"What are you talking about?" Ginny snapped, sure now that Draco had left out a vital piece of information in his letter.
Parkinson ignored the question. "Now, I've been casting Cheering Charms on him if he starts getting restless-"
"Yeah, and I'vetold you to stop it!" Draco cried from the bed. "It's terrible to watch what happens!"
"-and waking him if he gets too violent. But under no circumstances should he be allowed to take it, not even a bit. I've got some Calming Draughts over here though." Parkinson latched onto Ginny's shoulder, dragged her over to Draco's bed, and opened a small cabinet on the nightstand. "These over here. Not these. Do you understand?"
Ginny didn't understand at all, but Draco was behind Parkinson, miming violently that she should agree. She jerked her head in a little nod.
Parkinson appraised her sceptically and shrugged to herself when Ginny didn't waver under her examination. "I suppose I'll see you later, then," she said to Draco.
"Thanks for coming, Pansy," he said. She bent over him and they kissed each other on the cheek, reminding Ginny of his claim that he did that to everyone. Yeah, she had definitely overreacted on Christmas. "Well, I do," Draco said as Parkinson pulled back; she had obviously whispered something to him.
She paused in the doorway and tossed a twisted smile his way. "Have a good sleep," she said. They both chuckled darkly as she disappeared.
Once the door closed, Draco grinned as if he'd just heard a wonderful joke. "You were brilliant, Ginny."
"What the hell just happened in here?" she demanded.
Draco waved his hand airily. "Oh, she's just overprotective. I thought you weren't going to make it! Do you have anything pressing to do, or would you like to stay for a cup of tea?"
"Malfoy, you look like death warmed over," Ginny said bluntly. "You sent me a bizarre letter asking me to save you from Parkinson's evil clutches, and now you want to have a spot of tea? I don't think so. Explain what she was raving about," a sudden flash of inspiration hit her, "or I'm leaving right this second."
It was a ludicrous threat, or would have been if Draco didn't display the strange mental pathologies that he did. Ginny wasn't sure why, but he seemed to have become fixated on her after his mother's death. Part of her thought he had transferred his affection for Narcissa Malfoy to her, and part of her thought that he had simply become more human after the tragedy and Ginny was the first person he'd been able to demonstrate his newfound compassion on (if 'compassion' was the correct term for 'tackling someone viciously while they slept and insisting they leave the house so Death Eaters don't get them'). Whatever the case, he was happy when she visited him and agitated when she left unless she promised to return. The gambit paid off and Draco looked suitably chastened. "It's – it's really stupid, Ginny. She just thought I needed taking care of, it being the hols and all, and can't stand it if I have bad dreams, so she's constantly waking me up and neither of us get any sleep."
"'Bad dreams'? How would she even know?"
"What, are you an Auror now?" he sneered, making an obvious effort to lighten his delivery after the fact.
"Defensive, are we?"
"I didn't mean it like that. I'm just really tired."
"So sleep, then. Parkinson's gone."
"I suppose I will," Draco answered, looking very ill at ease.
"Okay, then," Ginny said, her eyes narrowed with general suspicion. "I'll leave you to it."
"I'll see you out," Draco offered, throwing off his covers.
"No need," she said, but not before his feet had already hit the floor.
"Are you sure?"
"Very. Get some sleep. You need it."
Draco settled reluctantly back onto the pillows. "I'm glad you came, Ginny," he said softly.
"I'll bet you are," Ginny replied. She remembered, with a bit of apprehension, how he and Parkinson had kissed each other and turned away more quickly than necessary. "I'll owl you," she called over her shoulder.
Before she could make it to the staircase, she was accosted by the house-elf, who now looked menacing instead of friendly. "Miss is leaving?" the small creature growled, blocking Ginny's way. "Miss must not leave Master Draco alone."
"Out of my way," Ginny snapped.
"After Miss Pansy puts her faith in Miss! Hibby cannot let Miss go! She must protect Master Draco!"
"He'll be fine," she said shortly, trying to edge past the house-elf with no success.
"Master Draco has much trouble, Miss!" Hibby cried, grabbing hold of Ginny's hem. "Is very sick and Hibby cannot help him, she must do as he says! He-" Hibby's entire body became rigid and she eyed the nearest baluster with apprehension. "He fears his nightmares!" she squeaked in a single rapid breath, then threw herself headfirst against the hardwood. "He-cannot-sleep!" she said, each word punctuated by another self-inflicted blow.
"Hibby," Ginny said hesitantly, and the house-elf turned to her, its eyes disturbingly unfocused. "There's nothing I can do."
"Miss can stay with him. Miss can keep him from Dreamless Sleep. He must not start again, he is nearly finished!"
Dreamless Sleep. Ginny subconsciously took a tiny step backwards. She hadn't been allowed to take it for more than a couple of days after emerging from the Chamber of Secrets. Madam Pomfrey was quite adamant that even if the dreams were upsetting, she needed to dream to heal and couldn't run from nightmares forever or they'd keep piling up. Ginny wondered how long Draco had been taking it, how many nightmares that were currently stockpiled in his mind and scrabbling for release. From what Trelawney had said in Divination, recovery from extended Dreamless Sleep use was psychic agony. "That's why Parkinson wouldn't leave, isn't it?" Ginny asked. It explained everything from the Cheering Charms to the other girl's lack of sleep.
"Yes, Miss!" Hibby's ears flew like standards with her vigorous nodding before she hit her head against the banister again.
"My name's Ginny," she added absently.
"Hibby knows," Hibby said with a hint of defiance. "Hibby cannot allow Miss to go."
Ginny was not about to sit and squabble with a house-elf. She turned on her heel and strode purposefully back towards Draco's chamber. Hibby helpfully opened the correct door (the dratted things all looked the same) and lit the room with a snap of her fingers. Draco sat up sluggishly and squinted. "Ginny?"
"How bad is your withdrawl?" Ginny asked without preamble.
Draco turned a furious eye on Hibby. "Outside!" he thundered. The house-elf's ears drooped in a resigned fashion and she vanished. The look he gave Ginny was only slightly less hate-filled. "I'm working through it."
"Your dreams are bad enough that you thrash about in your sleep."
"So what?"
"You're afraid to sleep alone."
"AND WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO ABOUT IT?" Draco bellowed.
"Ask for help!" she shouted back.
"Why do you think Pansy was here?"
"Ask me!"
"I don't need your pity!"
"It's not pity! You keep saying I'm your friend. Plus, you saved my life. I kind of owe you."
"I didn't," he said petulantly, looking almost the same as when Ginny had first seen into the room.
Ginny sighed. "Look, I'll make this easy on you: Draco, would you like me to stay? I could." This was the sort of thing no one should have to go through alone, Malfoys included.
He was still sulky. "Fine, if you insist."
"Oh, stop. Your displays of gratitude are embarrassing me."
"I am grateful," he said gruffly, grabbing his wand and levitating a winged armchair over to beside the bed. "I just – I'm really tired."
"I never knew," Ginny said dryly, taking her seat.
Draco sunk into his pillows and extinguished the lights save one small votive. "I'm glad you're here," he admitted, lying on his side so he could face her. "I didn't want you to go."
You never want me to go. "You should've said something."
He sighed, nestling under the covers. "You don't need this kind of rubbish."
"No one does."
"I would've been okay by myself."
"I know."
"It's been so long," he mumbled, his words beginning to slur together. "I don't even know sometimes, but I still remember you. Ne'er enough…." His breathing relaxed and he fell silent.
He was definitely unconscious. It was probably a record, and Charlie was well-known for being able to sleep at the drop of a hat. Ginny leaned her head against the wing of the chair and observed him for signs of strife, but his brow remained unfurrowed and he was the very image of repose. She used to watch Harry like this when he fell asleep in the middle of lakeside study sessions in that golden time at the end of fifth year. Sure, she'd known even then about Hermione's helping hand, but she'd been so happy, and Harry so content even without additional doses of Amortentia, that she'd been able to push any lingering guilt almost completely out of her mind. It had fallen apart with alacrity: first Dumbledore's death and Harry dumping her, then Hermione's confession at Bill and Fleur's wedding which was supposed to make Harry feel better but instead drove him to rage and splintered the Weasley family when they learned of the deception. Now the wizarding world was safe and Harry was in the long-term spell damage wing of St. Mungo's, unable to remember magic and mistrustful of anyone who tried to jog his memory. She had stopped trying to visit him after two weeks, but Molly persisted and was miserable for it. Ginny found life easier if she tried not to think about Harry. She found life easier if she tried not to think about a lot of things these days.
