This one was written for Leigh's Soundtrack Challenge, over at The DG Forum!. Rules at the end.
Draco laughed as Harry Potter bodily dragged him out of the one-room cabin he called home for the week. Later, there would be time for protestations of innocence and explanations about his status as a mole, but for now, Draco concentrated on committing last night to memory. He would need that happiness to last him awhile.
Knock knock. Knock. Knock knock.
Draco looked up from the papers he had been reading and smiled softly at her signature rhythm. He tapped the pile straight, set them down precisely on the simple wooden table and walked to the door. He never knew when she would manage to get away and find him in whatever remote locale he managed to secure for himself, but he was glad that tonight she could make it. The information he found might really make a difference in the war efforts. The situation devolved into a stalemate months ago, both sides making small incursions but ultimately driven back.
"Do you know the way to Atlantis?" He called softly through the locked door. It sounded like a silly question, but made a decent security measure, given the array of spells and potions that could manipulate appearances. One could never exercise too much caution in these times.
"You can hear it when the wind cries." Her voice floated quietly through the wood.
Draco took down the wards, unlocked the door, moved aside to allow her in, then swiftly re-locked and re-warded the door. She had removed her cloak by the time he turned around, allowing her glorious red hair to glisten in the light. Long when they first met, now it followed along the line of her elegant jaw in a stylish, but practical bob. Draco knew prudence kept her hair short for the dangerous work they involved themselves in, but he looked forward to the day he could spread it across his pillows and run his hands through the silky strands.
Ginny rushed to him, grabbing fistfuls of his rough robes, and pulling him to her, like his lips couldn't get to hers fast enough on their own. Wild abandon always characterized their first few moments together; hands and lips roamed everywhere to confirm for themselves that the other remained unharmed and alive. After a time, fears assuaged, their frantic clutching and kissing died down and they spent time together talking before eventually moving to the bed, or other convenient surfaces, to be reacquainted in other ways.
This time, something was different. Rather than calming, Ginny kept pushing at his shoulders, pulling on his robes, clenching his platinum blonde hair in her small hands – becoming more frenzied, not less.
Draco placed his hands on her shoulders and gently set her back from him, leaving his hands there and rubbing his thumbs comfortingly back and forth while he asked, "Ginny, what's wrong?"
His smoky grey eyes widened when a tear rolled down her cheek. She sniffed and asked, "Wh-Why would you th-think something wa-was wrrrrong?"
His heart started pounding in his chest, but outwardly he merely raised his eyebrow. "That would sound much more convincing if you weren't struggling to speak. Now, what's going on?"
She haltingly inhaled before burying her face in his chest, apparently unable to hold the dam of her feelings anymore. Draco froze, unsure what, exactly, he should do. Comforting someone didn't fall within his skillset. And she had never needed it before, either. His Ginevra was a force to be reckoned with, always fighting for what she believed in. Crying seemed more like – giving up. He settled for wrapping his arms around her and stroking the back of her head with his right hand, as his mother did for him when he needed solace as a boy. He wondered whether he should say something, though what he didn't know. Then he heard Ginny speaking – repeated variations of "I messed up, I'm so sorry." As concerning as he found her sudden breakdown, he thought this admission even more alarming, and a pit of dread formed in his stomach.
He leaned back away from her, smoothing her hair away from her face. "Ginny, I want to help you, but I can't if you don't tell me what's going on. Why are you sorry? What did you mess up?"
She sniffed again, closed her eyes, and took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to calm herself down enough to speak. "Draco… They're coming. Hermione, she – she tricked me." She sniffled. "They suspected that I've been seeing someone in secret, so they sent her to try to find out who."
Ginny jerked away from him and started to pace from one side of the room to the other along the rush mat-covered dirt floor. "She was so nice and – and supportive!" She sneered the word.
In a high-pitched, mocking voice, she continued: "It can't be that bad, Ginny. Let me help you, Ginny." She came to a stop in the middle of the room and screamed, "We can make your family understand, Ginny!"
And with that, her despair turned to rage. He learned through experience with his aunt that there was no point in trying to calm her or prevent the destruction. It would only make her angrier and sometimes people just needed to break things. He could repair it all in the end, anyway. He threw up a magical shield to protect himself as she unleashed her fury on his one-room cabin, just in case. She blasted a chunk off his already crumbling stone fireplace. Reduced his table, with all its papers, and two chairs to ashes. Levitated his worn and shabby couch before exploding it all over the room. Wrenched his dilapidated bed apart piece by piece with violent slashes of her wand.
As charred feathers and still-burning paper drifted down to the floor, Draco cautiously lowered his shield. Ginny stood in the middle of the chaotic remains of his temporary home, wand hanging loosely at her side, breathing heavily.
She dropped her wand, shattering the silence, then fell to her knees, arms tight around herself. Draco warily joined her, kneeling and taking her into his arms again.
"Ginny, shhhh, it's ok. It's going to be ok." He soothed.
"It's not, Draco, you know it's not!" She wailed, lifting herself out of his arms and onto her knees so that she could grab his lapels again. "They're coming for you tomorrow. You need to leave! Don't you have a house in Spain or something?"
He placed his hands over hers and lightly curled his fingers to coax her into a looser grip. "Italy, Gin. And France. And – you know what, it doesn't matter. The government is aware of most of our overseas holdings. There are a few others they don't know about that I could go to, but…"
He paused. They had been hiding for so long. When they attended school, he and Ginny snuck off for snatches of stolen time together so that her gaggle of overprotective, overbearing brothers and nosy friends didn't find out about them. Their families hated each other, and that animosity only worsened in the lead up to all-out war. Since the war broke out in earnest, they knew their families were of a mind to kill on sight which resulted in frantic reunions, in part because they could only use a modified version of the Protean Charm Hermione devised in school to communicate long distance. As a one-way communication method that only allowed for the transmission of his location, – in code, of course – it left much to be desired in the reassurance department. All the lies and hiding exhausted him and he didn't want to do it anymore.
"I'm not running, Ginny. There are only three ways this ends: they kill me, they catch me, or I never come back home. But if I stay, and I face this, maybe, one day…" He cupped her cheek and gently upturned her head. Her bright, brown eyes could put Hardy's best cognac to shame. "Maybe one day we can be together."
Red blotches appeared on Ginny's face as she finally let loose the cry fighting to escape her lips, and her face crumbled as tears cut down her cheeks.
Draco found her more beautiful, in this moment, than ever before. He brought his other hand up to cup her face and brought her lips to his in a searing kiss, as desperate now as she had been when she arrived. Between attempts to crawl into each other by way of their mouths, he repaired the bed, and the rest of the room, with a wild wave of his hand. They stumbled over to it, shedding clothes on the way, and tumbled onto his threadbare blankets. He made love to her until the morning light crept through the dirt-encrusted window above them.
And when they came for him, he kissed her temple and whispered, "I loved you first," before Ron roughly yanked him out of bed. Ron pulled his arm back to swing on Draco, but Ginny launched herself off the mattress at him and Harry grabbed Draco and started to roughly pull him across the room. Amidst all the shouting and yelling as they unceremoniously evicted him from his temporary residence, he glanced back, one last time.
Ginny looked magnificent as she stood toe-to-toe with her brother, naked as the day she was born, while Hermione tried to cover her with a sheet that boasted of more holes than material, and Ron tried to look at anything but her as she figuratively ripped him a new arsehole. Draco laughed as Harry dragged him across the threshold.
- Must be inspired by one of the listed pieces of music. (You can define "inspired by" however you choose. Whether it's simply the chord progression or a downright literal interpretation of the lyrics is up to you - just don't break rule 4)
- Must ship Draco/Ginny
- Must be a one-shot. No length constraints, but it can't be chaptered.
- Must NOT be a song fic.
- This is an open challenge - there is no deadline.
The Songs
I. Regina Spektor - "Samson"
II. Moby - "Flower"
III. Over the Rhine - "Trouble"
I chose "Samson" for this challenge, but can anyone guess what other song makes an appearance? Again, I originally wrote this in 2018, expanded it out, and changed the names for my Intro to Creative Writing class. It amuses me to turn in thinly veiled fanfic. As always, reviews are much appreciated (and loved)!