Chapter 10

Ginny lay in the soft quiet, the darkness of the girls' dorm. She was reading the letter over again in her head, still clutching it, committing to memory the words which had caused a boy to try and take his own life.

The paper was rough and it burned under her hand as she recited in her mind:

Draco,

I am aware that for some time you have opposed my position concerning the Dark Lord. I have tried to persuade you to accept my views and the views of my Master, but, I take, with little effect. A New Age is upon us Draco, the second war has begun. We will emerge victorious.

New Years is approaching, and He is making preparations that may be of concern to you. You know that I have asked you many times before to establish loyalty with the Dark Lord. You have refused. It was not wise, but you have another chance to change your mind.

I am writing you to advise that you claim the Dark Mark on New Years Eve. If you do, you will become part of His plan, and your future as a self-respecting Pureblood wizard will be ensured. He will guarantee your future once the Dark side has triumphed over the tainted masses.

You will be eighteen past the New Year. Then I will have no responsibility over you, you know that. But I am telling you now, while you are still under my care, that if you refuse to join the Death Eaters, it will be to your disadvantage.

You see what I have enclosed for you with this letter. If you do not plan to accept the Dark Mark, use it. If you return to me over Christmas and still refuse the Dark Lord, he will do no less to you than the poison will. If you stay at Hogwarts and hide from me, I will kill you myself when we have won the war.

Choose wisely, this time.

- Lucius

---

Blaise let himself wake up slowly, his eyes staying closed as his mind roused itself from a blissful slumber. The warm silk sheets of his bed had slid off his torso, the cooler air licking his nerves sensually. They were tugged farther off him by a movement to his right, his nipples and the hair on his chest pulled tight as goose bumps rose on his flesh.

"Good morning," said Pansy sleepily, as she turned to Blaise, her blonde curls falling in her face.

He grinned. "Good morning."

The door burst open and Pansy gave an embarrassed squeal as she sought to tug the sheets over her body. Blaise pulled himself up on one arm, observing his intruder with an amused look. "Top of the morning to you Professor," he grinned.

The Potions Master looked surly and simultaneously worried and rushed. "Draco's ill," he said sharply. His eyes looked pained. As Draco's Godfather, he had the double responsibility of playing teacher, and being the closest thing Draco had to a male family member who gave a shit over what happened to him. Although, that was mostly Narcissa's doing . . . though the young man was as yet unaware of that.

As soon as the words of Draco's state left Snape's lips, Blaise shot up into a sitting position and Pansy, with the sheets clutched to her chest, looked wide eyed at her Head of House.

"I think his father sent him a present," said Snape quietly. "Madame Pomfrey has given you two permission to visit him." He nodded at the two and left, shutting the door noiselessly behind him.

Blaise and Pansy looked at each other for a moment. "You don't think..." Pansy's voice trailed off.

"I wouldn't put it past him," said Blaise. "He hasn't been thinking straight lately." They both scrambled to dress, Pansy stumbling out the door with her blouse half buttoned, her robes akimbo and billowing behind her.

Stupid fucking Lucius Malfoy and the rest of the damn Death Eaters. They all want to control out fucking lives.

"What do you think it was?" asked Pansy.

"A dagger, if it was anything like what my father sent me," guessed Blaise, mouth curling into a grim smile. As they walked down the hall, Pansy bit her lip as she picked up her pace in an effort to keep up with the dark-haired boy's long strides.

---

In the hospital wing, Draco lay delicately on a white cot, eyes screwed up in pain. Blaise sat down next to his friend, and Pansy knelt beside the head of the cot, both watching for any sign he was awake.

One could say that these three were the Slytherin equivalent of Gryffindor's 'Dream Team,' in an odd way. Loyalty came with Slytherin nature, but Pansy, Draco and Blaise were fiercely so, though they rarely showed it well. They had developed loyalty to each other as a necessity - their families were being torn asunder in the quake of Lord Voldemort's war for power. One or both of most all the Slytherins' parents were Death Eaters. But the younger generation was not as predisposed to worshipping the Dark Lord as their fathers were. They were knit together, as rebels. Too proud to admit they fought for the light, that they had disowned their parents long ago... and too good to allow themselves to be tools for the Dark.

"Is he asleep or unconscious?" asked Blaise.

"I'm not sure."

"Trying to sleep," answered the tired voice from the bed.

"Draco." Pansy squeezed his hand.

Blaise looked serious. "What did Lucius send you?" He looked his friend up and down." I don't see stab wounds, " he jested.

"Poison." Draco answered with a wan smirk.

Blaise crossed his arms, forehead wrinkled.

Stupid prat. Going to kill himself because his bastard father wants his son to be a fucking evil old lecher just like him.

"Blaise." Pansy had seemed to read his thoughts, her eyes asking him not to yell at Draco, not now. "What happened?" she urged.

"I drank it," said Draco simply.

I wanted to die.

His eyes opened and he focused on Pansy's piquant face.

"Then why aren't you dead?" Blaise still looked angry.

"I thought of you two at the last minute and I couldn't..."

He attempted a grin as his friends rolled their eyes.

"I shoved my finger down my throat and puked it all up," he admitted.

Pansy sniffled, touching his cheek lightly with her hand. "You old sap," she said, wiping a tear from her eye. She laughed through her tears, Draco squeezing her hand weakly. "I think it's you who's being emotional," said Blaise, the hint of a smile expressed by his mouth.

"That was so stupid of you Draco," Pansy managed to choke get out. "I'm glad you turned chicken."

"But why?" Blaise was staring at the floor. He gave Draco a bitter look. "Of course you wouldn't have done it for Lucius, that would have made him happy," he whispered, answering his own question. "You're not that cowardly."

With a look of distain, Blaise got up and quickly left the room.

---

He pinched her toe playfully. "And this little piggy went 'wee wee wee' all the way home!" She laughed, tossing her hair back in amusement while he kissed each toe tenderly.

"You have beautiful toes, Hermione."

"I do believe you have a little toe fetish!" she laughed.

"I have a little Hermione fetish," he murmured, kissing up her leg. She laughed again, drawing his head up to kiss him.

"How did I ever get so lucky..." He gave her a reverent kiss, tasting her lips for their ripeness. She drew back.

"I'm going to miss you," she said seriously, looking into his eyes. "All I really want to do is stay here with you."

"What about your studies?" He smirked. "If you stayed in this bed forever you'd die for want of knowledge!"

"I could do all my homework right here," she answered coyly, kissing his neck. "I'll never leave you," she whispered.

"Yes you will." He gave her a serious look. "I want you to live your life fully. Don't let an old geezer like me hold you back."

"Ha! Old geezer my ass." She let her hands roam down his body, enticing him, until he leaned back down to embrace her, hold her close. "I'm pregnant." She said the words so softly he thought at first that he might have imagined them.

"What did you say?" he asked, pressed against the pillow.

"I'm pregnant." Her voice was stronger for having said it once before.

He moved off of her, shock had encased him. "But the contraceptive spells... I cast them... you cast them...every time." He was staring at her in disbelief.

"But last week... In that airing cupboard..." she felt hurt.

Shouldn't he be happy about this? We're going to have a child!

"Oh." His voice was deadened.

"Do you love me?"

"Hermione, I love you very, very much...but you're . . . you're too young to have a baby."

"I'll be alright." She sounded cold and distant.

"What if you got rid of it?"

I don't know, she thought, but held her tongue. "Well you're not going to keep it are you? Whined her frantic lover. "You have to continue with your schooling and graduate..." He turned to her and shook her shoulders. "Hermione, you have too much of your life ahead of you to throw it away now."

So if I have our child I'll be throwing my life away?

She stared at the ceiling, blinking rapidly. "I'm keeping it."

"Oh Hermione, please, that's not what I meant -" She turned to him, her voice bitter.

"Don't you want it?"

What am I supposed to say to that?

"Hermione, I love you but-"

"I know."

"But you can't -"

She got up abruptly, throwing on her clothes and leaving the suddenly cold bedroom.

"If you don't want the baby," she said coldly, "Then you don't want me."

This time when Hermione woke up the next morning, she couldn't recall the dream in any part. What stuck with her was the feeling that she had to, needed to remember it.

---

I can't take this anymore.

The austere room was stifling him.

With a determined effort, Draco pulled himself out of the bed where he'd lain weakly for the past two days. His knees buckled slightly, refusing his weight.

That was some evil stuff.

Draco ran his fingers through his matted platinum hair. Struggling to steady himself, he walked the length of the room slowly, staggering only once. The door was light-weight, but he leaned against it heavily, using his body to push it open. The thick door swung forward, slamming into someone on the other side.

"Fuck!" The door had, in fact, connected with a nose. A very freckled, now slightly bruised nose.

"Sorry," he said dryly to his victim. "You should really look where you're going."

The disgruntled image of Ginny Weasley didn't elicit a second thought from his mind.

"And you should be more quiet the next time you decide to snuff yourself."

The coolly delivered words hit Draco like a train. He blanched.

Well I suppose I must have gotten to the health wing somehow... What, did I think I walked here by myself?

"Oh." His voice betrayed that he had been taken off-guard.

"Yeah, 'oh,'" said Ginny. "I was just going to drop in and see how you were doing."

"All better," he replied casually.

"You still look weak." Ginny appraised him with her eyes. "I'd help you walk to your room but you might keel over again if one of your mates saw you with a Gryffindor."

"I don't give a damn if I'm seen with you and neither does anyone else," he replied, walking away as quickly as be could, cheeks burning behind their pallor.

Who the fuck does she think she is?

Ginny was fuming.

He's so bloody stuck-up, but he's not getting away that easily, not in hell! He owes me a thank-you.

She caught up with his strides and stepped in front of him at the bottom of the stairs at the end of the hall. She opened her mouth to say, "A 'thanks-for-saving-my-life' might be nice!" but he spoke before she could.

"Thanks for taking me to Madame Pomfrey," he said quietly. "I would have died if you hadn't."

Ginny swallowed her words. "You're welcome."

Did Malfoy just thank me? Of his own accord?

"Here," said Ginny, holding out the letter she'd taken from Draco's robes. "I -" She exhaled.

What am I supposed to say? That my curiosity got the better of me and I didn't actually come to see how he was doing but to return a stupid letter I stole from his robes the night he attempted suicide?

He took one look at it and visibly stiffened. Snatching it from her hand, his eyes searched hers, his jaw taught with anger.

Did she read it? Fuck, she thinks I'm a bloody coward then. My Father says 'jump' and I jump. Fuck!

"Did you read it?"

They stood like two banisters on either said of the stair, the space between them mocking their show. Ginny nodded slowly. His demeanor had iced over and she felt mildly afraid.

"You had no right to," he spat out, storming away from her, the effort discernible by his labored breathing. He could not face her; look at her, because she knew.

I am a coward. Afraid of what a little girl thinks of me!

Ginny took a moment before running after him and grabbing his arm. "I'm sorry." Her eyes said she meant it, her hand on his arm said it mattered, whether he forgave her or not. After a long pause, Draco inclined his heading recognition and continued down the hall more slowly than before.