Ginny glanced again at the Slytherin table looking for the tell-tale flash of platinum hair. As of yet, Draco had not come into the Great Hall for the returning feast, and Ginny was becoming steadily more worried.
Her holidays consisted of explaining several times, with considerably more patience than she had at school, what exactly was going on with Draco Malfoy. The fire and spunk that made dealing with her at Hogwarts next to unbearable were less volatile at home, and she managed to convince them, with only a few injuries, that she did indeed hate Malfoy, and that they did not have to worry that she was going to run away with him. In fact, Fred and George, who had been alerted to the situation by Ron, seemed proud that she was using the ferret for her own purposes, though they did not approve of the means by which she achieved her manipulation.
At home, away from the mercurial Draco Malfoy, Ginny had some semblance of control over herself, so why was it that when she arrived at Hogwarts, visions of Draco jumped straight into her head again? She wanted to hex the satisfied smirk off of Harry's face as he laughed that Voldemort had finally finished Draco off like he should have, and that was why he hadn't returned. Luckily, Ginny was too stressed to act on it.
Where was he? Included in the disturbing lack of Malfoy at the Slytherin table, was the conspicuous absence of Professor McGonagall and Professor Slughorn at the head table.
Finally, as the meal was ending, a harried looking Slughorn escorted a severely disheveled Blaise Zabini to his seat at the Slytherin table. Zabini's face was bruised and contorted in pain as he sat amongst his friends, all of whom rushed to his side with faces of pity or anger.
Ginny's already diminished appetite vanished. What was going on with the Slytherins? As the Great Hall emptied, Ginny brushed off the curious glances and concerned comments of her peers and sat, her plate full, waiting for the Great Hall door to open and admit Draco. It never did.
Almost a week went by before Ginny finally caught a glimpse of Draco between classes. She had been so relieved to see him alive that she nearly ran over to him and kissed him right then and there, but her hurried advance was halted as he looked up at her from eyes hooded with malice. His icy eyes pierced her before he turned and walked in the other direction without a word.
Ginny did not allow herself to give in to her confusion or frustration until that evening. Seamus' unwanted advances, and Ron's infuriating encouragement, set her stress level over the edge, and with a strangled growl she grabbed her cloak and stormed from the common room. Before she knew what she was doing, she was huddled at the side of the frozen lake sobbing.
She could not comprehend what had happened. Draco's games were irritating, but never mean. He couldn't handle the thought that he was spending time with a Weasley, so he convinced himself that he was doing it for himself and that he hated her. She knew that, and she played along. Ginny was open-minded enough not to be plagued by the thought of Malfoy's name or past when she was enjoying his company, and she hoped that someday he would realize it too.
Their little game of hate, however, had taken a startling turn. Something had happened over the holiday that had turned her 'enemy with benefits' into a full-on vengeful enemy. She had never seen such coldness in his eyes, though she recognized the icy walls that had resumed their previous station behind his proud countenance.
Before the holidays Ginny had been in control- she played the game for him and she could call the punches. It was the nature of her personality to be domineering, and Draco was too busy fighting his own feelings to realize that he was submitting to it. Somehow, he had regained control, and Ginny felt completely helpless.
As the snow slowly melted against her kneeling form, Ginny heard the crunching snow indicate that she was no longer alone. She closed her eyes, calmed the confusion and frustration raging within her, and put up her own walls. If he could close himself off, so would she, but she thought it promising that he had sought her out.
Draco's teeth clinched in fury as he advanced on his target, his wand outstretched. Ginny heard him coming, but she didn't move. She is afraid of me, he thought. As well she should be.
He stopped a few feet behind her, his wand trained at the back of her head.
"Hello, Draco," he heard her say cautiously under the whistling wind.
Draco refused to reply, but steadied his arm, which had wavered slightly at the sound of his voice. You have no power over me! he thought.
When Ginny finally turned he was satisfied to see the hopeful look fall from her face to be replaced with confusion and fear at the sight of his wand.
"What is going on?" she asked, her brows furrowed, never taking her eyes of off his cold stare, no matter how it hurt to look at him. Just as he could not show his weakness, neither would she.
"I hate you," he spat out bitterly at long last.
Ginny sighed, "Tell me something I don't know."
Draco's face contorted briefly into a mask of fury, to be quickly replaced with the same icy indifference it held before.
"You have ruined my life."
Ginny looked up at his form towering above her, and asked simply, "How?"
Draco's teeth clinched, and he tightened his grip on his wand. How can she be so infuriatingly calm! She has ruined me, she is cowering at me feet as she should be, yet her voice is so collected.
"You," he growled, "don't get to talk anymore! Silencio!" Ginny's eyes flashed with confusion and hurt, but she remained still at his feet.
With her thus subjugated, he began to pace in front of her, stopping every few moments to point his wand angrily at her.
Finally, he began his rant. "Why did you have to do it? Your own life isn't messed up enough, is it? You had to go and interfere in mine! I had detention for months because of you! And you, you used me, just like Potter; you used me to help you. And I fell into the trap. I helped you on that bloody potion! We both knew it was ridiculous- make a potion to save your poor brother from the evil thrust upon him? Let's save the world one potion at a time!" he cried wildly, then calmed himself quickly.
"I was stupid, I see that. It was just another conquest- another way for me to waste my time so that I didn't have to think about the reality of my position. I killed the headmaster. Maybe not with my wand, but with my actions. And I am not really sorry. One less muggle lover for the world to deal with! I should rejoice! But it inconvenienced me. Suddenly I had people all over me- loving me for doing it, despising me for not actually muttering the words, pitying me because of my associations, or just downright hating me for no reason other than myself. I could handle it, but it was a nuisance. Saint Potter wouldn't leave me alone, though it is funny because I see in his eyes that he can't decide what he thinks of me- I did lower my wand after all- maybe I am good?"
Draco advanced suddenly on Ginny. He grabbed a handful of her hair and got into her face. "Is that what you thought, little weasel? Were you trying to save me? Was the potion some grand metaphor for you conquest of salvation?" Ginny's glare never faltered, though he gestured wildly with his handful of way, tugging her head this way and that.
"Well, guess what Ginevra, dearest," he spat out spitefully. "You couldn't save me!" he jabbed her painfully in the shoulder. "You did nothing but make things worse. My father enlightened me over the holidays, you see. Do you know what he said? 'There is nothing worse than a pureblood mixing with a blood traitor,' he said. Of course, I knew this already. But what was he getting at? What indeed? Perhaps that a little tramp was manipulating me?" Draco kneed Ginny violently in the back, and she fell into the snow, but immediately pulled herself back up to glare defiantly at him.
"No you don't even care do you? What did my father know, you might ask me. He knew what his Lord told him, he knew what a nosy, arrogant, prick witnessed in a school hallway. 'How do we deal with traitors?' he asked me. 'We punish them.' And punished I was." Draco stopped pacing and stood stolidly before Ginny, who did not so much as flinch at the menacing expression on his face. After glaring at her, he resumed his pacing, "Though I must say that the punishment was not as bad as the after effects. Father decided that the best way to handle me, was to force me to submit to his will, and his Lord's. So like a common cow, I was branded."
Ginny's sharp intake of breath was enough to stop him. He looked at her over his should and said, "You are surprised? You did this. You are the reason that I am forever marred with THIS!" Draco rushed at her, pulled his sleeve up, and thrust his blemished limb into her face. His pale skin was broken by the inky blackness of a skull and snake, the skin around it red, puckered, and raw.
And Ginny cried. Draco's fury was spent, and his subject wallowing in despair at his feet, so he turned from her and said with a sigh, "I blame you," before disappearing into the blackness around the shore of the lake.
When Ginny finally calmed down enough, she pulled her quivering body from the snow; she looked in the direction that Draco had disappeared. A solitary set of foot prints marched solemnly toward the line of trees along the shore marking the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Before she knew what she was doing, and without any regard to her personal well-being, she dutifully followed the footsteps.
Ginny found him at the waterside leaning against a withered willow tree with his eyes closed. Cautiously she approached him, and when he did not move, she sat cross-legged at his side and stared into the darkness.
After a few minutes she felt a prickle on the back of her neck and turned to see that Draco had one eye open staring at her, though his body had not moved since she arrived.
Ginny took a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak, but though she formed the words, they made no sound. Ginny widened her eyes in frustration and looked away. She heard a rustling from behind her, then a muttered "Finite Incantatem."
Without turning back, Ginny said, "Thank you," in a hoarse voice.
When she was not greeted by a reply she turned to look at him. He was still leaning back in a position of leisure, though his wand was ready in his hand, and both eyes were trained on her with icy indifference.
"Draco, I am so sorry."
"Don't address me so informally. You are inferior to me in every way possible."
Ginny groaned and wiped her hand across her forehead. Though the night was unbearably cold, she seemed to have developed a sweat. "You know I never wanted this to happen," she tried again after a moment.
"Of course you didn't. Now you have another foe to defeat on the battlefield."
"Draco, don't say that! The mark doesn't mean anything! It can't force you do anything!"
With startling volume and ferocity Draco shouted, "Don't call me that!" Ginny's eyes widened and she leaned slightly away from him. "Do you want to know what the mark means, Ginevra? What this is forcing me to do?" He pulled up his sleeve again to reveal the flawed skin. "This means that before I am called into his presence again, I will rape you, I will torture you, and then I will kill you."
Ginny shrank away in horror. "But you wouldn't," she said meekly. "I know you, you wouldn't."
"Wouldn't I?" he asked, his voice dripping in sarcasm.
"Draco, stop it!" Ginny cried suddenly. "Just stop! This isn't you! You are rude and arrogant, but you are not a murderer, and you wouldn't do… that to me."
Draco glared at the redheaded girl sitting feet from him, trying desperately to look defiant and strong, but her quaking body and the sheen of sweat on her face betrayed her terror. And suddenly he did not want to terrorize her anymore. He knew that is was not her fault, but his twisted father's. The icy façade melted from his face and he hung his head.
"There, Ginevra," he said at last with resignation, "you are correct."
Ginny let out a sigh of relief and allowed herself to collapse backwards into the snow were she lay looking up at the barren branches above her.
"What am I going to do?" he asked when Ginny had all but forgotten his presence. She sat back up and regarded him intently. His face looked worn and pale. Dark circles under his eyes and the bluish tint of his lips gave him the appearance of a corpse.
"I am going to help you get out of the mess that I put you in," she said finally.
Draco rolled his eyes, "We both know that this is not really your fault, you have no obligation to stick around with the likes of a Death Eater."
"A mark does not make you a Death Eater, Draco. It just… makes your arm look kind of… scary," she finished lamely.
A small smirk blossomed on Draco's face, "Is that the sort of motivational speech that that bloody order teaches you to give? It's no wonder Snape was loyal to the Dark Lord."
Ginny was completely floored. He was smiling and making inappropriate jokes, and that was a step in the right direction. "Well," she said lightly with a smile, "I lied when I said that I didn't agree with the order. Truth is, they kicked me out because I am a terrible motivational speaker. If you want, I can give Harry a ring, I'm sure he'd be glad to fill in. They don't call him Wonder Boy for no reason."
Draco let out a stiff chuckle and said, "Maybe some other time."
Ginny tried to laugh, but managed to let out a severe string of coughs, then reached out to grab Draco's shoulder from faintness.
"We need to get you inside, Ginevra, you are burning up," he said with a poorly hidden trace of concern.
Ginny nodded and accepted his arm to help her stand, which she did not stop clutching as the pair began their arduous journey back to the castle, though Draco tried several times to retract it.
As they neared the entrance, and Ginny felt fainter than ever, she asked, "Draco? Do you still hate me?"
With a curious look on his face he replied, "I don't think I do," just before Ginny blacked out.