Disclaimer: The regular disclaimer still stays in place, I owe nothing but the AU and OC. The rest belongs to JKR.(dg)


Chapter 27

Draco had made up his mind to go to the ground floor study. He liked the ornate fireplace inside. It made him feel at home. Reminded him of the fireplace in his mother's parlor, in front of which he had spent many hours playing, studying listening to his mother read out books to him. To the world, Narcissa Malfoy had been a shadow of his father. But to him, she was a caring mother.

Mechanically he had stood in front of it staring at the licking flames. Why did everything around him have to remind him of her, now? Why couldn't things go back to what they had been before all this? She could have remained unattainable? He could have continued to struggle with his own monsters, while spending hours at the workshop below, or painting something or the other in his great Gran's studio, or cooking a dish perhaps just to watch Dorsie shooting daggers at him?

He had heard a silent pop close to his feet. The trusted elf had turned up. she had wriggled her long bony fingers and had quietly asked, "is master needing something?"

When Draco had turned to stare back at her blankly, Dorsie had managed to give him an apologetic smile. "Dorsie would you transfigure some of my robes, into something appropriate for your mistress? And could you please deliver the pink potion vial sitting on my potion table, at the lab to her, just insist her to use it, would you?"

"Dorsie will do it just now." The elf had reached out and had gently patted his hand before disappearing with a pop.

Draco had grabbed the throw from the couch facing the fireplace and had decided to lie down on the fur spread before it. Warmth, he was much in need of warmth. Heaving a sigh, he had sat down and had puffed his pillow. A cup of hot chocolate had appeared in front of him. Despite his melancholic mood, he had smirked, "Thank you Dorsie."


Standing in this grandeur shower, Ginny had closed her eyes, trying to enjoy the way the warm water was rolling over her skin. Its pattering sound, its steamy sizzle had calmed her. She had let her hand travel down to wash away the evidence of what she could only define as a sinful act a violation of her body.

She had expected Malfoy to be brutal. She had expected him to hit her, beat her, curse her, or even…anything that would describe him as an oppressor, a bully. But he had stubbornly remained accommodating. And he had hit the right keys to bring her over to completion.

She had shaken her head, trying to brush away the fogginess. As long as she could think clearly, she could have her acts ready to defend herself against the ever-plotting ferret. But those scars? She had seen scars before. Most of her brothers had them. Charlie had them. He would joke that they were token of appreciation from the dragons he would train. Bill had his, a cruel reminder that Greyback had nearly snatched him away from them. George and Fred…oh! Fred…

Even Ron had his scars to make stories about. The big cry baby of the family…how he would narrate fantastic tales about how he had acquired them during some quidditch match practice, or some bottled neck match with the Slytherins only to have her burst his bubbles in front of everyone. And now, she was married to the Slytherin Prince. Disgraced, stripped of his wealth, living in self-exile.

But he had been too subdued, quiet, brooding and he did look a little lost. How on earth did he know of her addiction to lemon deserts? Had he watched her gobble them during Hogwarts feasts? She had always thought he only had his eyes trained over Harry. No, she would not think of that man. Heartless bastard.

Walking out of the shower, she had mechanically toweled herself dry. Hermione always believed doing things the muggle way sometimes helps you to rearrange your thoughts. She had tried very hard to be angry with the muggleborn witch, her best friend of sorts, she sister in law to be perhaps. Neither was she having it any easy with the greasy git of the dungeon was she! What had the world come down to? Wrapped the plush towel around her, she had tentatively, walked out of the bathroom. She did feel sore.

"Woah!" Jumped up nearly a foot, terribly trying to keep the towel still covering herself, Ginny had come face to face, with an equal flabbergasted Dorsie.

"Dorise is extremely sorry, Mistress, Dorsie is a bad elf, Dorise will iron her ears this very moment, Dorise will throw herself out of the window!" the tiny elf had her hands over her eyes and had already started running towards the window.

"Dorsie, wait!", tying the towel a bit tighter, Ginny had managed to grab the elf at her elbow.

"You don't need to punish yourself; you had just surprised me." The elf had given her a scrutinizing look, but had gone ahead to bang her head against the footboard of the bed, "Dorsie will still punish herself."

"Dorsie, that's enough, what's with you, elf! Dorsie, ten bangs, enough now!"

When the elf had turned back to her, she had given her a disapproving look, "Can you tell me, why are you here?"

"Mistress needs a dress to wear, but Mistress needs to consider something first!"

"What?"

"Master means no harm, Master never meant any harm, Master is hurting, master…master likes Mistress more than he can tell."

"Did Malfoy sent you here to brainwash me?"

"No, Master had asked Dorsie to get Mistress a dress, and also give Mistress this…"

Extending her palm out, the elf had handed over the pink portion vial. Tilting it to see the portion more clearly. Ginny had asked, apprehension and mistrust laced in her voice, "What new trick is this?"

"Master had asked for it, from the Potion master, he was aware it would hurt."

Biting her words, Ginny had spat, "It would hurt! How thoughtful of the ferret."

The elf near her feet had looked insulted, narrowing her eyes she had retorted back, "Does Mistress remember the dark Wizard?"

"Which one, your master was surrounded by too many of them?"

"He-who-must-not-be-named, Dorsie knows, what he had done to the young Mistress, Drosie's nephew works at Hogwarts Castle. Master had to live with he-who-must-not-be-named. Master had to do things to keep his mother safe. Mistress can hate Master as much as she wants to, but Master has always wanted Mistress to be safe."

"Stop it!"

"Mistress, Master hates his sire. Dorsie hated that man, he had tortured Master, had nearly killed him once. Dorsie knows, he still has those scars. The dark wizard did very very bad things to Master. Master can't sleep at night. Master worries about Mistress. Dorsie only asks Mistress to think about what Dorsie has said. Look beyond Master's words, Mistress will find Master's eyes always speaking the truth!"

With a pop, the house-elf had left. Beside her, on the disheveled bed, Ginny had found a rather pretty set of satin night blue pajamas, along with a burgundy robe and a Slytherin green tie. Absentminded, she had run her finger over the snake ring on her finger. Her lips had parted, and a single word had tumbled out of them, "Malfoy?"


He had tossed and turned. The throw had got twisted around his legs. No, No leave her. She is innocent. She did not steal. She was at Hogwarts all this while, no, don't hurt, her, leave her please, Aunt, Please, don't hurt her, Not the knife, don't, she will lose it, didn't you have your fill, stop that Cruciatus curse, let her off, please…please. please…he had seen the glinting knife, come down, he had heard the madwoman crackle with mirth, he had heard her scream, red hair, freckled face, mouth-frothing blood- NOOO!

Ginny, Ginny…she was supposed to be next to him...he was supposed to protect her. He had vowed! Gin… Ginny…!

"Malfoy! Malfoy? Wake up! Dra…you are dreaming…. it is a nightmare…wake up!"

His eyes had flown open the very next instant, someone was hovering over his prone body, red hair, oddly familiar, it could have been her? No, she hated him with every fiber of her being! He had rolled over, taking this apparition along with him. Nestled under his stronghold, trapped below his sweaty heaving body, Ginny had looked back at him in utter disbelieve. He wouldn't let this Polyjuice assailant get the upper hand, he had brought his palm up to cover her face. He had sent along, a tongue-tying curse through his hand. That can deter any nonverbal spell. And he had truly looked down at his wife's wide eyes. Red flaming hair, surrounding a pink face, and a pair of ocean blue eyes staring back at him in shock. His Ginny. His ethereal Red.


A/N: Hope this was better than the last...