Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Author's note: This fic includes a lot of swearing.
Read on, oh faithful ones.
...
For Litsa
Ship: Draco/Ginny
Rating: any rating
Request: A bit of a darker Ginny who's walking the fine line between good and evil and a Draco who knows evil but has turned away from it. Please :D Post Hogwarts :)
...
Ginny cast a charm to lessen her more distinct features, namely her hair and freckles. By the time she was done, Ginny looked just like any other witch on the street. Disguising herself was the easy part. While she could probably fool people around her - maybe even her own parents if she tried hard enough - Ginny knew that the magical clock hanging in The Burrow was much harder to fool. She was about to slip from 'shopping' to 'in danger', and if she was unlucky enough, her spoon might even go on to show that she was 'in mortal peril'. For her plans to work, this just wouldn't do.
Glancing around surreptitiously, Ginny withdrew a knife from the folds of her robe and sliced her palm carefully. Three drops of blood fell to the cobblestone path below her and after she said a not-quite-Light spell, a carbon copy of her normal red-headed self appeared before her. A second spell, definitely-not-Light, allowed Other Ginny to be bound to the spoon until she was returned to the drops of blood. She healed her hand and passed Other Ginny two Galleons. Other Ginny just smiled at her knowingly, gave a nod and went off to Flourish and Blotts with her two Galleons to spend and hours to kill. With that done, Ginny turned away from the brightly lit Diagon Alley and faced Knockturn Alley. The darkness seemed to stretch on forever, but she welcomed it and stepped forward without hesitation.
In an alcove further down Diagon Alley, Draco stepped out of the shadows into the light, wondering what Little Miss Gryffindor herself was doing going into Knockturn Alley. He hadn't been in the dark alley since his mother had died three years ago, and while he held no false notions of being a hero or even a good citizen at the best of times, Draco followed Ginny down into Knockturn Alley.
It had been too long since she'd been in Knockturn Alley, Ginny decided as she wandered down the streets with all the casual ease as if she was window shopping on Diagon Alley. She had come down only a week ago, but Ginny was gathering enough courage to go further into the alley each time. This time she was determined to actually go into one of the stores and buy something. Two Galleons weighed her pocket down, and Ginny had her eye on the Hand of Glory sitting in Borgin and Burkes. She had learnt of it from the snippets of conversation she'd overheard between Harry, Ron and Hermione, and wanted to see the power of the Hand for herself.
Her arm was grabbed abruptly, and Ginny gripped her knife tighter as she was spun around, intending on using it as a weapon. She didn't have a chance, her heart leaping to her throat as she recognised her attacker as none other than Draco Malfoy.
"Put that thing away before you hurt yourself, Weasley. You shouldn't be down here, come on," Draco muttered, pulling her back towards the light.
"Fuck off, Malfoy. Who the hell are you to tell me where I should or shouldn't be?" Ginny hissed, wrenching her arm free of his grip.
"Bloody hell, Weasley, you're going to get yourself killed. Get out of here before you're stuck haunting a shitty little shop," he said.
"Go fuck yourself," she muttered, heading into the closest shop and ignoring all of his attempts to reason with her.
Sodding bastard didn't know what he was talking about. Malfoy had become nothing but a right wuss since the war ended and Voldemort died!
Taking a moment to recollect herself, Ginny realised that she was actually standing in Borgin and Burkes. Not quite the way she'd wanted to come into the store, with her blood boiling the way it was, but it would have to do.
Draco stood outside, running his hand through his hair, and telling himself that he shouldn't even care if the stupid bint got herself killed or not. He could see her through the grime covered window and clenched his teeth tightly.
"Fuck it," he growled, stalking over to the store and making his way inside.
Draco was surprised when he didn't have to duck any Unforgivables or weapons on entering the store. In the back room, he knew that Borgin was probably watching and thinking of a way to rectify that. It didn't take long for the shopkeeper to step out of his hidey-hole and glare at Draco, his wand already in hand.
"You're not welcome here, Malfoy. Leave now," Borgin hissed.
"I just came in to retrieve my acquaintance," Draco said, nodding to Ginny.
"I'm not your acquaintance, you sodding prick."
"Ah, you are most welcome here, m'lady," Borgin said oilily. "In fact, just for that, you can have anything in the store at a ten percent discount."
"I'll swear at him some more if you make it twenty percent," Ginny said with a grin.
Borgin's oily manner gave her the creeps, but business was business.
"Throw in a hex and you've got a deal," Borgin said with a sneer.
Ginny didn't hesitate, turning and hexing Draco with a Bat Bogey Hex immediately. He swore at her, clawing at the bats on his face as he tried to get to his wand with his free hand. Over the noise of the bats' flapping wings, Draco could hear Borgin laughing. Fucking wanker, he thought viciously. By the time the bats had been removed (Scourgify worked surprisingly well if he aimed it at his nose, even if it hurt like a Bludger to the balls), Ginny had bought a Hand of Glory and was pocketing something that Draco couldn't make out.
"Thanks, Malfoy," Ginny quipped cheerfully, just to piss him off some more.
This time, when he grabbed her arm and pulled her away, Ginny didn't bother trying to stop him. She'd got what she'd come for anyway. Draco fumed, all but dragging Ginny back up to Diagon Alley, coming close to throwing her as far away from the Knockturn entrance as possible.
"Stay out of here, Weasley. You don't know what you're getting in to!"
"Oh, fuck off. I don't care about your sensibilities, Malfoy, I'm going wherever the fuck I like," Ginny said distractedly, tucking the Hand of Glory into one of her larger pockets and spelling it shut.
Her robe would smell like death, carrying around a dead man's hand like this, and Ginny kind of wanted to laugh at the idea of her mother's expression on smelling the flesh-rotting scent.
"It's got nothing to do with my sensibilities, Weasley," Draco growled, though he couldn't quite pin exactly what this was all about, so he tried a different topic all together. "What did you buy in there anyway?"
"Hand of Glory and something that's none of your damn business," Ginny replied sweetly.
She turned on her heel and headed to Flourish and Blotts without another word. Draco hurried after her. She obviously had no idea that anything she bought in Knockturn Alley - even it was something as simple as an invisibility-invoking Tebo necklace - would lead to nothing but death.
...
Other Ginny had an armful of books when Ginny arrived, and on seeing her counterpart, led Ginny to the back of the bookstore where their transformations wouldn't attract attention. In a matter of minutes, Other Ginny was nothing but three drops of blood on the floor and Ginny was a red-head once more. She cleaned the blood with a quick spell and left the shelves with her books.
"You're going to get everyone you care about killed, you know that, don't you?" Draco hissed before she could get too far.
"What makes you think I care about anyone in the first place?" Ginny asked, rolling her eyes.
"You wouldn't have gone to all that trouble to disguise yourself if you didn't care," he said.
"Or maybe I just don't want to have to deal with all of the questions and people judging me," she muttered, shoving past Draco.
"They're all going to die, Weasley. Nothing good ever comes from that place," Draco said, his hand on her arm once more.
She pulled away and glared at him. "Who said I wanted anything good to come from it? I am sick and tired of everyone looking at me as if I'm still eleven years old! I'm in my twenties, yet they all still treat me like a child! I am old enough to make my own choices and decisions - even if no one else agrees with them. Now leave me alone and stop harassing me, Malfoy," Ginny said, her voice raising slightly.
He glared and slunk back when a few elderly witches looked over at them. "Fine, have it your way then. But let me tell you one more thing, Weasley: you might be old enough to make your own choices, but are you old enough to live with the consequences?"
Draco left before she could respond - not that Ginny could anyway, her jaw hanging open as she desperately tried to think of a comeback - and it took Ginny longer than she'd care to admit before she could bring herself to move away from that spot.
...
"You're a fucking prick, you know that?"
At least, Draco thought that's what Ginny was yelling at him. It was two in the morning, she was absolutely sloshed, and her words had come out close to unintelligible. It didn't help that she was stuck outside of the Malfoy wards and had her face pressed between the gate's bars, her voice carrying over the distance. He'd been woken by a trembling elf, who had already tried to make Ginny leave unsuccessfully, and was standing on the wide pathway up to the house watching as Ginny Weasley made a drunken spectacle of herself.
"Fuck you, you fucking... you."
"You'd best come in before the alcohol makes you forget how to say the words 'fuck' and 'you'; how else will you hope to communicate?" Draco drawled.
Pressed against the bars as she was, Ginny fell flat on her face when they lost their solidity a moment later. Draco was pretty sure she swore at him again. He ignored her cursing and lifted Ginny in his arms, knowing all too well what a levitation spell would do to someone that bloody plastered. He had no desire to talk to her when she was covered in vomit.
"Put me down," Ginny groaned weakly.
"Would you like me to leave you out here on the gravel? You can't Apparate out of here without a Malfoy's permission, and I'm the only one left, Weasley," Draco said with a grim smile.
She muttered under her breath, but didn't respond.
On reaching the Manor, Draco was met by his trembling house-elf, who eyed Ginny in his arms warily.
"Minky, bring two sobering potions, a goblet, and a jug of water to the East guest room," Draco instructed.
She disappeared without protest, and Draco hefted Ginny slightly to carry her more comfortably.
"Lemme walk!"
"You can't even construct a proper sentence, Weasley. Right now, I seriously doubt your ability to maintain your balance and move in a forward motion at the same time."
"Fuck you."
"Ah, you're back to the charming witch I love and miss," he drawled sarcastically.
Despite the abuse she'd hurled at him, Draco was surprisingly gentle when he lowered her on to the bed in the East guest room. Minky had already left a silver tray with the requested items. Draco held Ginny's nose, waiting until she gasped for air before tipping the first sobering potion in her mouth. He held her jaw firmly, watching as she swallowed. A goblet of water was offered and she drank it greedily, holding it out for more. Draco shook her head and repeated his process to make her take the second sobering potion, not trusting her to not spit the damn thing in his face. Another goblet of water was offered, and this time he allowed her to drink more.
"Now, are you able to converse with more than your usual litany of curses?"
"I was happy being drunk, you fucking wanker. Why'd you go and make me sober for?"
"Because it seemed that you were blaming me for something and I wanted to know what it was so I can address the accusation. Once you've finished explaining yourself, I'll give you access to my personal liquor cellar and you can take your fill."
"Take? As in, whole bottles to keep?" Ginny asked, both wary and surprised.
"If you wish. I won't be drinking it anytime soon," Draco said with a shrug. "Now, why don't you tell me what I'm to blame for?"
"You made me think, you bastard."
Draco waited for her to expand, realising after a few seconds of silence that she wasn't going to continue. "That's it? I made you think? I'm so utterly sorry for my transgression," he said. "I got out of bed at two in the morning for this?" he muttered to himself.
"You're not even going to ask what you made me think about?!" Ginny asked, glaring.
"Oh, I just assumed that I had finally achieved the impossible: making a Weasley think; I didn't know there would be an actual topic of thought," Draco drawled, rolling his eyes at her. "By all means, tell me what I made you think about."
Suddenly, Ginny was far too sober for her liking. She had heard of Malfoy's liquor cellar, and wondered if he had a Scotch that was really as old as the rumours said. She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. "I took them back. I'm old enough to make my own decisions and choices, and I think I'm old enough to live with the consequences... But," she added before he could say something sarcastic, "But if the consequences are as dire as you said, then I don't want to live with them. I shouldn't have to be responsible for someone's death other than my own."
"Wow, Weasley. If you were any deeper, you'd be a puddle. Congratulations, you realised that you don't want people to die over a stupid Hand of Glory. Wizard-kind can now move forward as a civilisation. If that's all there is to your big revelation, can I go back to bed now?"
"Seriously, that's it? I've been wanting to buy a Hand of Glory for six damn months, and you insult me when I say I've returned it?! Where the fuck do you get off?!"
"Usually in my bedroom, but I've also been known to whack off a quickie in the bathroom if the mood strikes," Draco said sarcastically. "Good night, Weasley," he said, Apparating back to his bedroom.
Ginny made a sound of frustration and went to Apparate, only to find that she was stuck. The fucking git hadn't given her permission to Apparate! Screaming for Draco to get his pale arse back here only resulted in Minky appearing in the guest room and using some of her elf magic to put Ginny to sleep. Ginny went down kicking and screaming until sleep finally claimed her.
...
"Let me go, you fucking arse!"
"It's only been three days, and I think that your cursing is improving. There's hope for you yet, Weasley," Draco drawled.
"Why have you got me under house arrest anyway?!" Ginny muttered, poking at the food on her plate with her fork.
"Because I don't trust you to not go straight back to Knockturn Alley and buy the items you returned," he said simply.
"I still don't see why it's any of your concern, you bloody prat," Ginny said, glaring at him.
"Because I don't want my family ruining your life any more than we already have. I am attempting to redeem myself, or appease my conscience at the very least."
"How the hell would your family be ruining my life?" she asked, her glare giving way to a frown of confusion.
"Because that Hand of Glory is my actually father's hand. Borgin stole it from his corpse as payment for certain objects my father had purchased, and when I tried to get it back to burn the fucking thing, he hexed me and ran me out of his shop. Yesterday was the first time I'd been in there since my mother killed herself last year. She found out about the Hand, was distraught about there being a piece of my father that could be used to bring him back, became consumed with the idea that he was returning, and killed herself to get away from it all. As I told you before: nothing good ever comes from that place."
Ginny was surprised at his admission. There had always been speculation at various dinner tables about Narcissa's sudden death, but most people had assumed that Draco had done it for the inheritance, despite only being months away from getting it anyway.
"Why don't you just buy the Hand then?" she asked curiously.
"Borgin refuses to sell it to me. I've offered to buy it for more than ten thousand Galleons, but he would rather see me suffer than accept my money," Draco said, his jaw tight.
Ginny was silent for a moment, then sighed, and started eating her food properly. She didn't mention the Hand again, and for the next four days, she didn't bring up Knockturn Alley once. Draco let her go home, and while he was pleased that she seemed to be seeing sense, he couldn't stop himself from following her Apparation out of the Malfoy grounds.
He was more than disappointed to find himself standing on the outskirts of Knockturn Alley. Ginny hadn't bothered to disguise herself or create a copy, and there would probably be a horde of Weasleys descending on Knockturn Alley in a matter of minutes. Draco left the light and went into the darkness to follow Ginny as she made her way into Borgin and Burkes confidently. His heart sank when he saw her demand the Hand of Glory again. She even threatened Borgin in order to get it for her previous price, and while Draco would normally love to see the wizard demeaned in any way, he couldn't bring himself to look away from Ginny as she took the Hand of Glory and left the store. She looked directly at him as she stepped onto the cobblestone floor, no hint of remorse or shame on her face at what she'd done.
Draco could hear the loud and confused chatter of the rest of Ginny's family, but he couldn't find the energy to see if they'd actually entered Knockturn Alley or not. Ginny produced the Hand of Glory, gave him a wry smile and then Incendio'd the fuck out of the Hand, dropping it to the floor. In the middle of the darkness, light bloomed and chased away the shadows, and Draco kissed Ginny as he'd wanted to do since she first cursed at him all that time ago.
...
The end.
I hope you liked it!