A/N: SORRY, I realize that the last chapter was a little Mary-Sueish. And, yes, I have noticed that my Voldemort is OOC, but oh well. –frown- I like him. Gah! This is one of the last chapters! I said I'd finish by chapter fifty, but I'm already on fifty-one. My bad. Anywhoo. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I am not lucky enough to be as smart enough as to invent these characters myself. They are not mine. Too bad. –pout-

The Stone Speaks

Chapter Forty-Seven: Iron-Grey Hate Can Soften

GINNY AND DRACO

"Draco!" Ginny screamed again, but then the Dark Lord stooped, folded his arms around the back of her legs, and hauled him over his shoulder. She started kicking, and pummelling Lord Voldemort's chest with her fists, shouting and yelling.

"Come on, then," he sneered at Draco. "This is where you try and try to no avail to rescue the fair damsel."

"Yeah, well, I WILL!" Draco hollered, his eyebrows set into a determined glare filled with hatred, struggling to get away from Crabbe's restraint.

Lord Voldemort snorted. "Well, well. Try to keep up."

And then they ran.

…

Dragging in the biggest breath that she could ever remember taking, Ginny screwed up her face and got out once last scream before she was hit on the back of the head with Lord Voldemort's wand:

"DRACO!"

Her scream transferred into a yelp of pain: "Ow!" as the Dark Lord whacked her with his wand.

"Shut it," he snapped at her, "or I'll just finish you here and now, leaving your brains to spill onto the ground for darling Draco to see."

Unwavering, Ginny replied, "I'm not frightened of you," though she was indeed terrified to the very core of her soul, before stubbornly screaming out again. "Draco!"

"Listen, you ignorant Weasley blood-traitor brat!" spat Lord Voldemort. "I will feel no sympathy in murdering you in front everyone who cares for you. Including Malfoy. They will all watch as you bleed into the mud, and as the last breath of life leaves your pathetic body."

Ginny's lip curled in hatred. She didn't speak, just sucked in her breath and screamed, "DRACO!"

"Or, perhaps," he sneered, "I'll kill them in front of you first, so that the last thing you know is utter despair."

"That's not a very good plan, is it?" retorted Ginny. "Then I'd just be eager to die, and I'd welcome death."

"Yes… but then I wouldn't give it to you. You'd be a slave to the Dark, once we conquer and destroy all who oppose us," said Lord Voldemort heatedly. "And then, only when the last ounce of sanity and joy had left your pitiful, wasted body… would death come."

Ginny could no longer pretend that she wasn't scared. Angry, terrified tears swelled up in her eyes, and she started to shake. "You're sick!" she exclaimed. "Draco! DRACO!"

"Silence, fool!"

"Draco, help me!" she screamed. She needed to see his face, needed to see his beautiful eyes – hard, cold, iron by first impression, but blue once love had softened metal.

And then blue light flashed and the last thing she saw before she blacked out was her friends, far in the distance, falling limply to the mud.

Draco

That, Draco knew instantly, was the worst moment of his life. Worse than seeing his parents die. Worse than knowing that the last words to his father were angry and hating. Worse than seeing her bleeding, because that was fake. Fake – but this was real. Real, and terrible.

If he didn't do something, Ginny would die.

I HAVE TO SAVE HER.

But he was trapped, and Crabbe was too strong and too big to get away from. "Stupefy!" he tried desperately, but he wasn't powerful enough.

Crabbe's thick, ugly lips, twisted up into a malevolent, inhuman smirk of evil as he watched Draco's stupid, pathetic attempts at getting free.

As he saw the expression on the Death Eater's face, a thousand volts of pure, wrathful hatred coursed through Draco's tall, thin body. Rage took over him, and he transferred it into sheer power.

It wasn't enough.

Fixing a piercing steely stare on Crabbe, Draco drew back every good memory he had. His eyes lost their blue quality, and became two swirling orbs of iron-grey hate, stronger than anything, burning a hole in Crabbe's gaze.

She turned quickly to look at him, red hair spilling across her back and swooshing over one shoulder. Her side-fringe scattered messily in front of her eyes; which widened. And in approximately three and a half seconds, Draco saw a thousand things in her beautiful, beautiful eyes. "Draco?" she whispered.

"So…" Ginny said vaguely, gesturing as if she was searching for something to say, "I didn't know that you… liked seafood." Draco grinned. "Neither did I," he said. He bit his lip nervously, and said, "Come on. Let's dance."

Ginny turned to Draco. She tilted her head to look up into his face, sending a shiver running down his spine. Draco extended his left hand; Ginny took it shyly, and stepped closer to him. His breath hitched with nervousness and shyness as as he slid one hand into the small of her back, and timidly placed her free hand onto his thin shoulder.

"Ginny!" he cried. His back hurt and the slightest movement shook his entire body with pain – but the Lestranges had done worse, and he threw his pale, skinny arms around the girl that he loved enough to throw away his away for.

He couldn't stop himself; he simply grabbed hold of her shoulders, and crushed her lips under his. It was the most amazing moment of his life, but the saddest with that, too – bittersweet was an understatement. If Draco was going to die, then he wanted this to go to his grave with him, the feel of Ginny and her long, messy red hair tangled between his fingers, her lips softly moving beneath his, capturing his lips time and time again in the most magical thing he'd ever felt. Time was the cruellest thing in the world, because she couldn't stay in his arms forever, pressed against his chest, her mouth under his.

"STUPEFY!" he bellowed, flailing Ginny's wand insanely.

Crabbe staggered backwards, but did not get knocked out. Instead, he was outraged, and now had a reason to want to kill Draco. "I'm sick of these brats," he growled. "Let's kill 'em!" he roared.

All at once, every Death Eater shouted, "STUPEFY!"

Harry, Draco, Ron, Hermione and Luna all collapsed to the ground. Lying there, Draco was staring up into Crabbe's fat, ugly face. He groped in the dirt for his wand, and held it tight. Be ready… he told himself. Be ready…

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" the Death Eaters bellowed.

"PROTEGO!"

No-one died. It was rather surreal. No-one died, because they were all protected. But, oddly, no-one protected themselves. They all heroically protected each other. Draco instinctively shot out towards Luna, who was limp and defenceless, and to whom he owed a life-debt. Luna fired the Shield Charm at Hermione, one of her best friends, who blasted protection at Ron, who she loved more than anything, despite her anger at him and wishing that she hadn't kissed him. Ron defended Harry…

And Harry protected Draco.

Draco had never thought that anyone, anyone (except for Ginny, Luna and Myrtle, of course), would try and save him when he was stuck in a life-death situation. Yet… Harry. The Boy Who Lived, who Draco had always despised, and who had always loathed Draco in return.

If I get out of this alive, I swear I'll buy Harry a house by the sea in the South of France. I'll empty my entire bank – and my father's precious will – if I have to.

"Sure," said Harry, picking himself up. "That'd be nice, Malfoy." Seeing Draco's panic-stricken and bewildered face, he let out a low laugh. "You were supposed to be talking to yourself, weren't you? Well, you let it out."

Draco reddened. "Well. Thanks," he stammered. "And… sorryforbeingsuchanarse… toyouandyourfriendsovertheyears… and – and everything, yeah."

"You protected him?" said Ron incredulously. Hermione, Luna and Harry all glared at him, and then he sighed with what was apparently relief. "Thanks…" he looked solemnly at Draco. "Because you're probably the only person I've ever met who really and truly would give up your life for my little sister. And for that, you might as well be a Weasley."

Hermione gave a frustrated, delighted squeal and then threw her arms – and legs – around Ron, hugging him tightly and kissing him hard on the mouth. When they finally broke apart, Ron turned to Draco to say more… but he was already gone.

The seventeen-year-old Slytherin sprinted determinedly through the battlefield, holding his wand high, its dim orb of light guiding him through the night-time gloom. "GINNY!" he yelled. "Ginny – where are you?!"

He didn't except her to reply, but Draco was still listening keenly for her voice. It did not ring out, and he ran faster. Her screams had been cut off, and his heart pounded violently against his ribcage, slicing wafer-thin pieces off of it. Please, please, don't kill her, I can't live through that for the third time, please, please.

There! In the distance! Was that her?

A/N: Sorry, that wasn't a very good cliffie. Oh well. I hope you enjoyed it. Please press the little button below – or I'll never post again, and you'll be tortured wondering if ickle Ginny's still alive.

Notice: Once this is finished, I am starting another Ginny fanfic, for which I am already outlining the plot. If you're interested. YES, it's another one of those stupid Ginny-Tom Riddle fics. There are Hermione-Tom fics, but I have only EVER read one good Hermy-Ridsy fic (Have You Ever, by Lady Moonglow. I recommend it. It's one of the ONLY three fanfics that's ever made me cry). And I think that Ginny-Tom is better because, you know, Tom possessed Ginny. Anyway. Enough of that. REVIEW!