N/A: This chapter belongs to Blaise Zabini and Astoria Greengrass.
22 – Dueling Emotions
Vaguely, Ginny registered a distant noise.
More Dementors approaching for the banquet?
She closed her eyes tightly, as if the gesture could make the Dementors disappear, just as she did when she was still a child after hearing the horror stories that George told her, Ron and Fred. They used to snuggle under an old blanket that served as a hut for the four of them and spend hours there, amid fables and scares; in the end, Ron and her invariably ended up running to their parents' room after one of those sessions.
Now she was in her own horror story and, as much as she wanted to do it fervently, she could not run into the Molly and Arthur Weasley's room, with Ron protecting her back.
Within her crescent panic, Ginny tried to discern any noise far away, but could not distinguish anything. There was only the sound of her own labored breath, following the rhythm of her heart.
At that moment, she was more concerned with knowing exactly when she might notice the differences between being 'with a soul' and 'without a soul' than with the noises around her.
She wrinkled her nose, smelling the Dementors' fetid aroma in front of her that made her stomach turn. However, their scent was gradually growing weaker, as if they were… moving away? She still felt the absurd coldness around her, but it also gradually lessened.
Okay, I still have my senses, so I have a soul, she thought in relief, irrationally reaching up to her stomach to make sure the small bump was still there.
She breathed a little more calmly when felt everything was in place.
In the aftermath, she shivered violently as if only now she were feeling the extent of the danger she had been in. Ginny decided to open a single eye - to check if she was not really hallucinating - and what she saw made her jaw drop.
The Dementors were still close to her, but they retreated because a group of about ten people were approaching, even though they were relatively far from where she was.
Ginny opened the other eye in order to widen her field of vision.
Ten people were far away, but there was only one near her, rather breathless, as if he had just run a marathon.
A man with platinum, disheveled hair looking almost white in the moonlight, falling over his eyes. Orbs made of ice.
A man who squeezed his wand until his knuckles were white.
A man who, apparently, had conjured up a Patronus.
Draco.
Then, his Patronus stop circling him protectively to swivel around her, chasing away what was left of the Dementors.
A Patronus she had sworn he could not conjure.
A dragon.
And Ginny gave it the largest smile she remembered in years, because she had never seen anything more beautiful before.
The Patronus encircled her like a flexible winged serpent, lightly lifting her dress' hem and her hair, which came out of its elaborate bun and descended over her back in a red cascade, as the dragon circled her from head to toe in a fluid, mesmerizing movement.
She had to hold back tears again for an entirely different reason this time.
Her first reaction was to throw herself into Draco's arms and say she owed him her life, but when she turned her attention away from the silver dragon and looked at him, she saw the intense look, its color of lead, like two spearheads about to cross her body merciless.
Oh oh, she thought and instinctively stepped back.
Draco was unfazed by her hesitancy and with three long strides he was in front of her. He took hold of her shoulders roughly as though afraid she might vanish, and watched her face carefully, her neckline, then lowered his eyes to her arms, then back to her face, as if he were looking for traces of something that might be hurting her.
"I- I'm okay, Draco." Finding her voice, Ginny felt the need to reassure him, to try to wipe that new alarmed expression off his face.
For a person who was not in the habit of showing his feelings, seeing that much expressiveness in his countenance was… overwhelming and Ginny took a deep breath to get hold of the situation.
Her words seemed to snap him out of his trance.
"Of course. I just wanted to be sure." Draco croaked and let go of her when the other people arrived, extinguishing his Patronus with a firm wave of his wand.
Then he stepped back, letting the small group fuss around her.
In vain, she tried to get his attention once more, to thank him and reassure him that she was fine thanks to his aid, but he did not look in her direction again.
Ginny felt her legs give way to the excitement of the night, but thanks to Merlin, Olivia was in the group of Aurors who had come to rescue her.
The Dementors were gone, but just in case two of the Aurors conjured up their Patronuses to escort them back to the castle and Draco addressed them coldly.
"Escort Mrs. Thicknesse and Mrs. Malfoy back to the castle. Make sure my wife will not wreak havoc within my security perimeter. Again."
"Draco-" Olivia started.
"Olivia, please don't. Not now." Draco exhaled slowly, bringing a trembling hand to his temple. "I just need a drink. And quietness."
Olivia nodded her understanding and he turned away and walked back towards the castle, not even looking at Ginny once more, leaving their small group.
Olivia gently put her arm around Ginny's shivering shoulders.
"My dear, what a scare you gave us! When I noticed your absence, I started asking people if someone had seen you and I was told you had left the castle! How silly of you!"
"I'm s-sorry. I-I didn't want to bother any of you." It was the only thing Ginny was able to articulate, shaking as she was.
"Shhh, it's okay now, honey. You didn't bother anyone." Olivia hugged Ginny as she led the redhead back to the castle, followed by the Aurors. "The search was quick... While I recruited the Aurors, Draco left the castle like a mad man, so all we had to do was follow his trail from afar. For Merlin's sake, Ginevra, I've never seen Draco like that. He was pale as death."
And Ginny shivered even more at the thought - that she did not want to acknowledge completely - that Draco was worried sick about her.
"I owe you both so much." Ginny murmured, already feeling a little better.
"Thank whoever you want after we come in, get you a big piece of chocolate and sit down to laugh at your little escape!" Olivia grinned and her smile was a balm for Ginny's soul. "Maybe we should go to the infirmary too and-"
"No!" Ginny shrieked and Olivia looked at her in alarm at her explosive reaction.
She could not bear the risk of meeting healers who could examine her and found out about her condition; certainly, the news would be printed on the next day The Daily Prophet's gossip column and she would rather have tea with Gregory Goyle than let it happen.
"I mean, I don't want to go to the infirmary and get more attention, that's it." Ginny tried at all costs to sound calmer and not show her anxiety, giving Olivia her sweetest smile. "I think I've already abused too much the right of being inconvenient and we still have a long night ahead of us."
"Alright, dear." Olivia said softly, after watching Ginny closely for a few seconds. "Enough of doing things you don't want to, at least for today. Only Merlin knows how much you're going to act against your will in the years to come."
Even though the prognosis was not very promising, Ginny smiled with relief and leaned her head against Olivia's shoulder, allowing herself to be guided back to the castle.
Her baby was safe for at least another day.
It took Ginny nearly an hour to recover, hidden corner and next to Olivia, who only left her after Ginny swore she was fine and that her friend could go comply with her social obligations.
Luckily for her, the story of her little accident seemed to have been restricted to a group of people, perhaps one more thing she should thank Draco for.
After many "how stupid" or "poor girl" looks, Ginny finally managed to regain her spirit from the effects of the encounter with the Dementors; she was already back to her normal self, except for the fact that, in her heart, she knew she owed Draco her life. And she should be grateful.
Eternally, by the way.
Sighing exasperatedly, Ginny sat up straight in the chair. She had promised Olivia she would not leave there without getting someone to accompany her, but she was already really fine and her eyes kept searching for the atypical blond hair in the middle of the crowd.
She had been trying in vain to speak to Draco since he had glared at her before heading back to the castle, but all she had received had been evasions; at the moment he had saved her, Ginny could have sworn he wanted to squeeze her neck, as if she were to blame for those disgusting creatures' thirst for souls.
Okay, I am partly to blame, said the inconvenient small voice in her head, after all, I had gone for a walk without thinking it would be more than obvious that there were Dementors surrounding the school.
However, Ginny ignored that part of her and preferred to focus on remembering the angry look Draco had given her and how he had referred to her in front of strangers.
Recalling that instant, she had to suppress a wave of anger that threatened to rise in her blood at his behavior.
She forced herself to take a deep breath and control her temper, knowing she should thank him, not cast any spell on the bloody idiot.
Finally, she took one last bite on the chocolate in her hand – after all, chocolate should never be wasted – and decided to get up, acting as if nothing had happened; she walked past people making small talk, inquiring about distant relatives and smiling at hateful statements when she finally saw him.
Draco had the same traditional posh demeanor, very straight posture, legs slightly apart and an air of endless boredom, with the difference that now his hair was a little more disheveled from all the mess outside, falling all over his face and brushing his chin.
He was conversing politely in a circle of important Ministry's wizards and listening to what a small old man was saying to him. When he saw her walking resolutely towards him though, he quickly apologized to his interlocutor and went in the opposite direction.
Ginny snorted angrily, tossing her hair back. Only at that moment she realised it was totally loose and flashy, which was not suitable for a lady in that world.
Screw it! She was a woman on a mission!
She would make Draco hear her thanks, even if she had to hex him in order to do that.
Ginny clenched her fists, lifted her chin, and officially began the hunt for the Bouncing Ferret.
They stayed in this game of cat and mouse for a while longer, exchanging furtive glances; Draco using people as a shield against her and she, in turn, using the wife's card to get closer to him.
After some time and several failed attempts, Ginny finally managed to catch him alone between two empty tables.
Draco stared at her passively and full of that characteristic boredom of his, finally accepting that he would have to listen to her and would not be able to escape her this time.
Ginny swallowed hard while he waited dispassionately.
"Draco..." She wet her lips, unsure about the approach she should use after finally cornering him. She had decided to make him listen to her, but not exactly what she would say when the time came. "Thank you so, so much. I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't shown up."
Okay, she knew what would have happened - and probably Draco did too - but he apparently did not care about her semantic slip.
"Showing this level of stupidity is like handing the Dementors an open invitation to attack." Draco observed disinterestedly, looking at a point over her shoulder. "Next time you wander off to do something so foolish, it would do you well to remember that."
"How was I supposed to know that the bloody Dementors were guarding Hogwarts?" Ginny was frustrated and did not hide it.
Draco sucked a breath in through his teeth. "How would you know, indeed. A particularly challenging kind of conclusion at this time."
Ginny narrowed her eyes at his mocking tone. He knew it always made her see red.
"Oh, Draco." She crooned sweetly. "One might even consider that as your fault, the result of your incompetence in controlling the Dementors."
Too far. She had gone too far, and she knew it. Knew it before the words had fully left her mouth. Registered the anger that flashed across his aristocratic face.
Bollocks, Ginny!
She had gone to him in order to apologize, not piss him off further.
Annoyed, Draco just deposited the glass he was carrying on the tray of a passing waiter and took Ginny's wrist, pulling her towards him so that only she could hear him.
"Anyone who doesn't know how things work in the midst of pure-bloods should stay at home, cleaning cauldrons." Draco said quietly, very close to her ear. "You keep putting me in ridiculous situations and are nothing but an uncivilized heathen, with no class or whatsoever." He hissed and took a deep breath as if contemplating something with hope. "But one day I shall be able to get rid of you, even if it's the fucking last thing I do."
Ginny felt suddenly weaker at his words and she definitely hated the feeling.
"So why didn't you let your Dementor friend do your dirty work for you?" She shot back putting as much poison into the words as she could. "It'd be so much more typical of your style, you bloody coward."
Ginny felt the fingers around her wrist tighten almost painfully, but did not back down. She never did.
Simultaneously, she looked around for a moment; the scene probably looked like an ordinary intimate dialogue between a young couple since they did not attract the eyes of anyone, not even the most curious ones.
Draco's piercing gaze, however, remained fixed on her.
"It was my duty as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement." Draco explained grudgingly. "Dementors need to know they must obey and not attack anyone who is slow-witted enough to approach them."
Ginny rolled her eyes in an expression of disbelieving sarcasm and Draco glared at her, daring her to express what she was thinking.
She did not and it made him even more annoyed. Then he pulled her a little closer, his lips almost brushing her cheek.
"Oh, don't pull a face at me; I wouldn't have put myself at risk for you. I don't give a tinker's damn whether you're safe or not."
"It wasn't what Olivia implied. Nor what I saw with my own eyes." Ginny responded by exuding false innocence and then his icy fury was back. "Let alone what I felt when we were together on the terrace."
"Purely physical." Draco said through clenched teeth.
"Of course." Ginny agreed mockingly.
"Why do you care, anyway?" Draco was exasperated now, as if understanding her was beyond him. "You made your point perfectly clear on that same terrace when you rejected my attention. And by the way, I appreciate your gesture, I would bitterly regret if I had engaged in… that."
Instantly, Ginny's anger gave way to regret. She had not desired to reject him. In fact, quite the opposite.
"Let me explain why I did that-"
"There's nothing more to explain. You were clear as a day." Draco interrupted her, suddenly seeming tired, old. "And next time, perhaps you can ask Blaise to save you from the Dementors, if you feel more comfortable with him."
"Draco, please. Blaise has nothing to do with it – with us." Ginny was almost pleading. "Don't act like you don't care, not after what happened tonight."
Draco was unyielding though, still too hurt to consider any explanation.
"I can prove my hatred for you as often as you wish, Ginevra." The tone was low, almost polite. And that was what made her wary: she preferred to deal with the explosive anger a thousand times over that glacial animosity emanating from him. "What you put between us when you forced me to marry you - loathing, bitterness and revenge – they will never go away."
The sum of his harsh words and the pressure on her arm was too much and Ginny snapped.
"Let go of me right now!"
Draco smirked cruelly. "That was an exuberant poor choice of words."
Then, he suddenly released her arm at the same time she forced her body back to free herself from his hold.
Ginny backed away instinctively, bringing her wrist to her chest when he released her and stomped her heel on the foot of a woman rising from one of the tables behind her, whom she belatedly recognized as Millicent Bulstrode, closely followed by Astoria Greengrass.
Shit!
All she did not need was for more people from her past to reappear like ghosts. And Astoria looking at her like that, as if Ginny had the grace of a troll.
Ginny, very blushed and then very pale, only managed to babble, trying to hide her face from Bulstrode as much as she could. "Forgive me... I-"
"You're a clumsy one, my lady!" Millicent cut her off fiercely.
"Careful, darling." Draco, hiding a mocking smile, added gently while peering at Ginny affectionally. "You shouldn't have taken so much firewhisky, it doesn't suit you."
His eyes gleamed with malevolent irony and he bowed politely to the three women in a sign of goodbye, turning his back and starting to walk in the opposite direction of them.
Ginny felt so bad that she did not even notice when Millicent adjusted her dress and walked away, murmuring words that criticized Ginny's supposed lack of balance and inclination to drink.
Astoria, in turn, passed by her with yet another look of scorn and followed Draco, walking haughtily.
Suddenly, all the emotions of the night fell on her at once and she felt tears come to her eyes; probably now Draco and Astoria would laugh at the situation - and at her - looking for more ways to humiliate her.
After watching them walk away for a while, Ginny lowered her eyes and convinced herself to go to somewhere she could be alone.
Sneaking between groups, she managed to find an antechamber at one of the entrances to the Hall, where she could sit and seek the isolation and tranquility her soul longed for.
Draco quickened his pace, moving away from the women. Walking away from her.
He was sure he was about to explode in rage when he noticed in his peripheral vision the tall, slender, elegant figure of Astoria following him. He slowed his strides, conjecturing he did not need another vexing scene if Astoria decided she would have it out with him as well. Direct confrontation definitely was not in his sly nature.
When he thought he was already a safe distance away from the Ginger Minx - which would ensure he would not squeeze her neck - he threw himself at the nearest empty table in the far corner of the Great Hall, in a low-class move that would surely have made his mother question his manners.
Astoria did the same - much more elegantly, though- grabbing a glass of firewhisky for herself and other for him on the way.
She offered him the glass and ran her hands through her beautiful brown hair with her free hand, drawing Draco's attention to herself. "Trouble in paradise?"
Draco could not help but snort.
"Paradise isn't exactly the word I would use to describe my current predicament." He said while taking the offered glass, willing to wash away his bitter feelings with it. "Trouble, yes. It's a more suitable definition."
They stayed in comforting silence for a while longer. Astoria had that effect on him, truth be told. For a long time, he had considered natural to give her his name, build his life beside her. Precisely because Astoria was that, peace, tranquility, harmony, class and elegance.
Everything Ginevra is not.
He grimaced and took a big sip from his firewhisky when he realised the direction his thoughts were taking.
Astoria remained impassive, with the glass firmly held in her beautiful, delicate hands, looking at him with a passionless curiosity, typical of the woman who was now his ex-future wife.
With a slight astonishment that he tried to keep behind his cold facade, Draco noticed that, with the turbulence of the last four months dealing with the Blackmailing Heathen, he had never talked to Astoria about his wedding. He retained another grimace, realising how insensitive it had been.
"You must have been hating me by now." Draco paused to look at her carefully. "In your place, I would." He searched for any signs of annoyance coming from her, but Astoria was also excellent at hiding what she felt.
She had acted very naturally – composed - when his wedding had been made public and had showed no surprise other than a raised eyebrow. In fact, she had taken every poisonous comment with elegant coolness and had never sought him out after the announcement, even though, in the months leading up to his wedding, the dates between the two of them had become more and more frequent, which naturally would lead to a formal commitment.
When the tacit agreement between them was broken by Ginevra's antics, the entire Wizarding World publicly questioned why.
Except, of course, the unattainable and untouchable Astoria Greengrass.
"We never officially committed to anything, Draco." Astoria said, taking a sip of her firewhisky and shrugging off his assumptions. "I'm more..." She paused for a moment, looking for the right word. "Curious."
"I-" Draco tried to start explaining the inexplicable and she gestured elegantly with her hand, interrupting him.
"That doesn't mean, of course, that I wasn't miffed."
"Things aren't always the way we would like them to be." Draco said after a few moments of silence, choosing carefully his words. "But for all it's worth, I'm sorry you had to go through this."
In the end, the excuses were not necessary; that was one more advantage in the relationship between Astoria and him: they understood each other with half-words most of the time.
For Draco, someone whom life had taught to distrust words, that was a gigantic benefit.
Unlike my situation with the Ginger Vixen, who insists on putting me in shameful positions like that, Draco thought with disgust. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, oblivious to Astoria's attentive observation, while his thoughts wandered in the only direction he did not want them to go.
How dare that bloody woman appeared there without his expressed approval, behave as if she belonged to that environment and still look so, so… proper that way? How dare she let herself be attacked by a Dementor - calling into question the credibility of the security provided by his Department?
Merlin, if I had arrived a second later... The Dementors... She would have been...
He felt an unpleasant chill run down his spine.
Draco dismissed the thoughts about the Dementors' attack and chose to focus on something more tangible: the anger consuming him.
He had every right to be angry.
It was not anger at the fact Ginevra had thought of Blaise while almost kissing him. Certainly not.
She was always so light and open and... happy when she interacted with Zabini. Draco considered their relationship depressing. And unbecoming. And irritating.
Nor it was anger at what he had seen in her memories, at the ridiculously romantic recollection of Potter.
Let alone anger at the fact he had been so vulnerable in front of her, wanting her, begging for a permission to kiss a woman who was his by law. It was not anger at being painfully rejected by her.
He was angry simply because she was occupying his mind all the fucking time.
He rested his chin on his hand, frustrated.
Silence.
Coming from Astoria.
Coming from his mind.
Who do you want to fool, Draco Malfoy? He thought mocking himself.
He was absurdly jealous of a woman he despised and who had never meant anything other than trouble to him.
Lies again, Draco. She had always meant more than trouble to him, but he did not want to think about that right now. Or ever.
He spent a few more moments in silence, torturing, punishing and cursing himself mentally for feeling that way; then the solution to this problem went through him, sudden, reassuring and very simple:
He had always been extremely possessive of everything that was his. And in spite of everything, she was his wife, wasn't she? It was natural that he was not comfortable when other people touched his things.
He smiled faintly at the discovery that made his tormented soul more peaceful. He was definitely not interested in that woman at all. Perhaps in the past it had been different, but now... No interest, nothing. Physically, maybe, but-
"Hello, Draco." Astoria snapped her fingers in front of his eyes. "I hate getting you out of the dream realm, but I'm still here, talking to you."
Draco shifted in his chair slightly embarrassed. "Apologies, I've been having some difficulties and -"
"I know exactly the name of your difficulty and she was right there, looking at us sitting here, talking as if I weren't the woman you were dating in your spare time, before marrying her."
Draco raised his head unconsciously, looking for - and not finding - the woman dressed in black and with long red hair, inappropriately loose. The movement did not go unnoticed by the brunette in front of him, who gave him a sad half-smile.
"And you know what surprises me the most? It's just that in normal situations, you wouldn't have cared about what any woman might think of us, sitting here together. But there you are, barely able to stop looking for her, thinking about her."
"I'm not thinking about her!" Draco protested with a grimace and Astoria smiled sarcastically. "At least not specifically. I'm just thinking about the problems she usually brings me."
Astoria looked thoughtful for a few seconds, staring at the glass of firewhisky in her hand. "For months I wondered what requirement would have been made for Draco Malfoy to marry a woman like that… Leaving behind what we both had, our future. But it seems that the reason was much more… sentimental than I had initially anticipated." And the word came out notoriously bitter from the woman's lips.
"Sentiments had nothing to do with my marriage, Astoria." Draco countered coldly, already starting to get annoyed by the tone of their conversation. "I can assure you I considered this union as distressing as you did."
"It had nothing to do with sentiments. But does it now?" As passionless as she was, this time Astoria let out a hint of jealousy in the words. And she did not even let him continue to protest indignantly, cutting him off with a haughty gesture. "I think it's better for both of us not to think about it, after all."
"Astoria-" Draco really tried to say the phrase he had never told her before, aiming to fix the situation in some way.
However, her name hung in the air because he just could not say the words that would improve his position.
I love you.
Not just because the statement was a lie - he had no qualms about lying - but because the idea struck him as strange for the first time.
It was clear to him that he had never loved anyone but his parents. However, if anyone had come close to it, it had been Astoria Greengrass. It had been Astoria, because everything with her was peace, tranquility, alignment. As if all their gears worked out together, without the need for repairs, adjustments or maintenance. Becoming ... monotonous?
He shook his head slightly, wanting to remove the blond strands from his face and that thought from his head. He wanted to say he was going to find a way to deal with the Vixen he called wife and then they could finally be together, in a world that their families had longed for.
But he could not. And he hated not knowing why.
"Astoria-"
"That's my name, Draco." The witch completed with a sad smile when she saw that this conversation would get nowhere. "You didn't have to struggle to remember it before."
Draco had a bad feeling of despair poking his mind; nothing had changed, Astoria did not need to act that way.
He was averse to changes and did not like to lose control, to feel at the mercy of uncertainty. That was why he must love Astoria: she was constancy and serenity - while Ginevra was turbulence... He abruptly interrupted his reasoning, disgusted with the path it was taking again.
"Nothing has changed between us; I just need time to get some obstacles out of my way."
He was sure when -if- he managed to end the Resistance and dispatch the Ginevra to some sparsely populated place on the planet, he would have time for Astoria, to have a normal life, enjoying his position, his influence.
Astoria smirked again and Draco cursed himself; she was beautiful, exuded aristocracy, elegance and not scandal and simplicity. Why had he been so stupid for not to have married her before? It would have avoided so many problems.
"Obstacles?" Astoria scoffed merciless. "I've planned this conversation in a thousand of different ways. Sometimes I imagined myself cursing you, hexing you or rubbing a fiancé in your face, but the truth is, in my head, I would always end up saying I would wait for you to resolve this absurdly weird marriage of yours." She sighed as if she were bored. "I told myself I wouldn't mind meeting you on the sly temporarily and everything would be worth it, even creating this hideous situation, where a Greengrass is the paramour and a woman from nowhere is the wife." She rolled her eyes, mocking herself this time.
"I would never ask you to do something like that!" Draco said emphatically. "You will not need to subject yourself to it."
"Of course not! Thanks Salazar, I came to my senses before doing anything that could embarrass my family's name." After a pause, she spoke again in her natural, indifferent tone. "I won't subject myself to this, simply because she's involved you, who knows how, but she has. And even if I were still willing to be your lover, you wouldn't leave her. You simply cannot, Draco. I know you."
He wanted to open his mouth to deny all that and almost choked on his drink in the face of so many and misinterpretations, but Astoria was faster; she leaned forward and brushed her delicate lips over his, moving away quickly in sequence. It was all so absurdly fast he did not even have time to react.
"Goodbye, Draco." She said, taking one last sip from her firewhisky glass and leaving it firmly on the table, as if, with the gesture, she were giving up on Draco and getting ready to move on.
And she got up, leaving him sitting there, confused and extremely upset.
"Astoria, wait!" Draco made one last desperate attempt, clinging to the last bit of normality in his life. "We are perfect together, you are perfect. You cannot leave our future like this!"
A few steps away, Astoria turned to face him, gazing at his miserable posture with a mixture of sadness, pity and hurt. She did not even need to point out the fact that it was Draco who had left her in first place: it was tattooed in her expression.
"Something tells me that it's not my perfection you want, Draco." She shrugged elegantly and turned to go without even looking back.
Suddenly Draco felt too tired to think; he rested his forehead on his hands and closed his eyes, wishing he could just run away from England, from this world, but the memory of his mother invaded his mind with full force and he knew he could not do it.
So, all that was left was to go back to Malfoy Manor and seek some peace in the isolation of his home, even though he knew he would not get what he wanted, not with his head and body restless like that.
But before he had his much-desired solitude, he needed to find the Ginger Vixen and force her to leave, before she could do anything else that would put them in a (more) ridiculous situation.
Or before she was attacked by another Dementor. He shivered involuntarily at the idea.
Draco sighed and stood up, resigned. He had to find Ginevra.
Ginny had taken a seat on the first sofa she managed to find, under a large window in a small vestibule.
The place was deserted and dim, just as she had intended. Carefully, she removed the glove from her right hand and lifted her wrist, contemplating the incipient purple bruises across her wrist. She took a deep breath, knowing she would have to perform a spell to hide it soon enough.
She felt her temper flare when remembering why those marks where there.
Malfoy was a savage and a hypocrite! Ginny could not resist the urge to come up with a thousand of revenge plans that involved evils to an ever-increasing degree, but then she looked at her wrist and all murderous instincts evaporated…
How long she would keep living that way with Draco? Always planning revenge, waiting for the next blow, for a retaliation, in an endless cycle.
She sniffed to control the tears of frustration burning her eyes, preventing it from rolling down her face. Now Draco was probably out there, drinking and laughing with Astoria, as if Ginny were nothing.
A bitter laugh escaped her throat as she realized that, to Draco, she really meant nothing.
The thought brought a tinge of pain that she attributed to the load of emotions she had suffered that night. She hugged her knees, instinctively recoiling, trying to gather the courage to find Olivia and leave.
After a few minutes, she felt footsteps approaching but did not want to look up to see who it was; in fact, the only thing she wanted at that moment was for everyone in that castle to go to hell.
But, effortlessly, she recognized the slightly sweet scent mixed with firewhisky, the light footsteps, the silence on the approach.
Blaise.
Zabini sat down heavily beside her, undoubtedly with a glass of firewhisky in his hand.
"Always alone, hidden in corners." Blaise lifted a stray strand of red hair as he spoke and she noticed he was more perky than usual -she supposed it was due to the encouragement given by the drink. "Give it up: being discreet isn't your strongest suit."
Ginny realised two things: First one, Blaise was drunk. Which was probably the cause of the second one: he still did not know about the Dementor attack she had suffered.
"Where were you when I needed you?" Ginny sighed, unwilling to explore the fact that she knew something that Blaise, the world's greatest eavesdropper, did not.
"And what did you need me for?"
To keep me from falling into temptation and madly kissing the idiot I call husband.
Or to stop me from wander around to get him out of my head and ending up being attacked by Dementors.
She did not respond and Blaise was suddenly more sober at her silence.
"What happened, Ginny?" He asked and she was surprised by the news; Blaise had never referred to her using her nickname before. However, she remained silent and he went on. "It's not common seeing you teary eyed and without that petulant attitude of someone who goes to war."
"I'm fine, Blaise." She lowered her eyes again, so he would not see a tear that was stubborn enough to fall down her cheek. "I just wanted to be alone."
"Why are you crying?" Blaise leaned back, relaxed on the couch. "There's no one here worth crying for, Redhead. Except for me, of course. But I'm not the reason why you're crying, right?"
She shook her head. After a few moments in which Blaise waited patiently, she raised her ungloved wrist towards him and, using the moonlight, he could clearly see the bruises that clashed with the pale freckled tone of her arm.
After looking at them for a few moments, Blaise ran a finger gently over the marks, as if he were tracing the contours of each of the bruises and had the power to dispel them.
"I was going to ask who did this to you, but I suppose there's only one idiot enough around here to do something like that to a consort." He said thoughtfully, a note of disgust permeating his words. "In a public place on top of that."
"Blaise!" Ginny scolded.
"Okay, okay. It's reprehensible when you're not in public, too. But no one knows what pleasures couples within four walls, right?" He shrugged lightly; even half-drunk, Zabini still managed to remain extremely elegant. "It's a possibility."
Ginny tried to smile at his playful tone, but a few tears took advantage of the distraction to escape her eyes.
"Don't worry, Blaise, really." It was her turn to shrug indifferently. "In the end, I was the one who looked for it…"
And upon saying that out loud, Ginny could not hold back the tears any longer, feeling all the frustrations of the past few months come crashing down on her head. The crying came loud, copious, as it had not come for a long time.
"What else can we expect from a husband?" Blaise snorted, wrapping his free arm around Ginny's shoulders and placing his glass on the stand beside his as she burst into tears. "You don't have to be such a mess because of a man, Redhead." He completed, cradling her gently. "You have a deplorable taste for choosing them, you should be used to it already."
Ginny slapped his leg as a warning sign. "What do you know about choosing men?"
"More than you do, for sure." Blaise retorted arrogantly. "And I have a vast knowledge about choosing women too, for that matter."
Ginny could not help but laugh.
They stayed like that for a long time, until she looked up, stopping crying. She stared at the man beside her recognising his true friendship, always with her, even after all those years.
Blaise smiled his most dazzling smile before asking. "Better?"
"I think so." Ginny put back her glove, gradually recovering herself. "Thank you, Blaise. You're amazing."
"I am." He agreed without hesitation and Ginny smiled.
Blaise let a few minutes pass, examining her in silence, attentively. The light was poor and came only from the window, but she could see that he was up to something.
Then he smiled broadly, flippantly. "Do you know what I think?"
"No, but I'm sure you'll be delighted to tell me." Ginny gave him another tearful smile.
"Yes, you're right. I think this marriage of yours was a shame, but we must no longer cry over spilled firewhisky." He put his index finger on her chin, making their eyes meet. "What I can do is give you two idiots a small push. It'll be very pleasant, at least."
And he approached her, as a lion approaches his prey.
"Blaise, I-" Ginny said, swallowing hard and recoiling a little.
"Shhh." He slid his slender index finger from her chin to the space between her breasts, highlighted by her generous cleavage. "A huge part of what ails you is thinking you're alone, in every way. And that makes you miserable, unhappy… But at least with this I can help you."
His eyes gleamed mesmerizingly and he moved closer, making Ginny back away instinctively, even though her body told her she did not want to back away at all.
Bloody hormones! The pregnancy definitely got the better of her every now and then.
"You're an attractive woman, Redhead, and you miss feeling wanted, desired. Am I right?"
Ginny could only nod, as if afraid to open her mouth to respond.
"Draco needs to see it. It's past time." Blaise stated with conviction. "And he will, even if I have to force him."
Malfoy's image filled her mind and suddenly the heat she felt diminished considerably. She looked at Blaise intently.
Dark eyes, not grey ones; those dark eyes I can handle. The silver ones, I'm not so sure.
The scary thought crossed her mind and she decided she did not want to think about Draco. Nor about Blaise to be honest, but it was particularly difficult when he looked at her like that.
"Blaise," Ginny started in a playful tone, trying to break the tension between them. "You once told me I wasn't your type, remember?" She said jokingly. "What is it now, sir? Have you change your mind so easily?"
"I've not changed at all." Blaise replied with a half-smile, "You're really not my type."
"So what are you doing now, Mr. Zabini?" She was still trying to sound relaxed, despite her racing heartbeat.
"Making Draco and you see some points." He replied simply. "And, mainly, offering you comfort."
Ginny instinctively flinched, offended at his condescending reply, but he caught her deftly. Holding her with his right arm and sliding his left hand under her knees, he knocked Ginny off balance and caused her to lie flat on the couch, with him sprawling dangerously over her.
"Calm down, I didn't mean to offend you." He had a gleam of malice in his very dark eyes that defied her. "I said you're not my type simply because, since I was seventeen, every time I see you - bold, desirable, unique - I want to go back to Italy and find a nice house, away from the noise. And come to my home, find my lover and my children, spend the night in front of fireplaces talking about amenities, asking about their day and if there was anything I could do to make them happier. "
Ginny was staring at him, unable to make a sound or move, totally stunned and surrendered. He nuzzled her neck with a bold finger.
"No, Redhead, you're not my type because you make me want to pay attention to my heart. And that is unacceptable in my position, for a man like me."
"Blaise, wait-" Ginny winced and put her hand over his chest to stop him.
She wanted to say that she could not endeavor something like this. Say that there was Draco, and even if they had not made any fidelity pact, an interaction like that would not be proper or wise under any circumstances; however, a spark of powerful desire flared over her, eager to find out more about that interaction between two people that Harry had started and Draco had awakened to its fullest, as if he had fanned a volcano inside Ginny. She closed her eyes.
No, I won't think about Draco.
It was Blaise who was right. Malfoy did not count, he did not deserve any thoughts from her, not at that moment.
She wished to feel wanted, as Draco himself had done on their wedding night, albeit against his own will - his and hers.
Now she was on fire. And, in some point in her mind, she wanted Draco to feel the same way she felt now about him and Astoria. It was an irrational, childish, dangerous feeling.
A feeling which she did not want to understand or calculate the extent, especially at that moment.
Now, she just wanted to respond to her body's urges.
Zabini laughed openly.
"I knew there was something in there, begging to get out and-" He stopped suddenly in mid-sentence, his eyes riveted to a spot above Ginny's right shoulder. She went still, knowing something had gone wrong.
She turned her head, brushing her red hair over Blaise's face in the process: A few feet away, almost melting into the black of the dimness and standing out only by the paleness of his livid face, there was a person.
Ginny did not need much detail to know who it was: she could feel the piercing eyes, the expression that gave nothing away, the body tense, as if he were waiting for an attack.
Draco.
And he was furious. Ginny could say with her eyes closed, even though he showed absolutely nothing.
Blaise sat up quickly, like he was just trying to get a speck out from Ginny's eye.
"Draco, it's not what you think-" Blaise started to say, calmer than Ginny could ever be.
The blond man shut him up with an authoritative gesture of his hand.
"My wife isn't really mine, Zabini." He said in a slow, drawled voice, as if he were measuring every word. "You should know this better than anyone."
In the midst of her daze, Ginny could have called him a liar; she remembered all too well the speech he had made about her being his property, but she could not make a sound.
"And from what I can see here, in fact, she may belong to someone else." The words hurt Ginny more than she wanted to admit and she tensed, listening to Draco complete his reasoning. "Please, don't worry, my friend. I didn't see anything."
Draco bowed slightly, as if saying goodbye, and walked away, marching with his natural arrogance.
Blaise looked a little more deranged than usual, as if he had not expected it at the time, while Ginny could not even move.
Zabini looked at her attentively, certainly noticing her paleness and embarrassment, because he took her hand, squeezing it lightly, reassuringly.
"This is just a small push, remember?" He said and Ginny did not understand anything, but did not bother to ask. "It was just a little bit earlier and different from what I expected." And saying this Blaise got up, raising his wand as if he had not drunk a drop of alcohol.
Blaise followed Draco where his friend had gone, muttering under his breath a phrase that Ginny thought contained the words stupid, Malfoy, tosser and stubborn.
After a second, Ginny managed to order her legs to stop shaking and follow the two men. She had no idea about what to do, but she knew she could not stay there while Draco ran around in a rage.
She kicked herself when realised that her first concern had been the emotional state of Draco Malfoy, the insensitive idiot, but continued to follow them with her hesitant steps.
She picked up her pace as fast as she could and barged into the Entrance Hall in search of them, making it just in time to see Blaise slide after stopping running in a stylish entry in the hall, where about ten people were chatting socially and saying their goodbyes, including Olivia and the Minister of Magic, Pius Thicknesse.
"Malfoy!" Blaise said very loudly, drawing the attention of those present and making Draco stop in his tracks, turning to face him from a distance.
"What is happening here?" Pius Thicknesse asked, confused not only because of the Imperius Curse that afflicted him.
"Draco, Blaise." Olivia interjected, watching Ginny enter the hall breathlessly. "Is everything all right?"
Blaise ignored everyone else present.
"Your attitude is ridiculous, Draco. Act like a hot-blooded man for once!" He completed, pointing his wand at his friend. "Fight for her, you bloody fool!"
Draco gave Blaise a cold, assessing look, capable of freezing even a dragon's soul. He was impassive, hands in the pockets of his black tuxedo, seemingly calm as if he had been out shopping for chocolate frogs.
"I only point my wand at enemies, Blaise. Ridiculous is the fact you want me to fight for someone who clearly doesn't want me to." Malfoy raised an arrogant eyebrow at him. "Someone who definitely doesn't know how to be discreet when conducting her... extracurricular activities."
This time his eyes followed to Ginny, standing in the same spot, watching the situation unfold with her mouth open. She felt as if he had slapped her and had to curb the urge to draw her own wand to make him swallow his words.
"You're a bloody idiot, Draco." That was all what she managed to say.
"You know what, Ginevra?" Draco sighed tiredly after answering her. "I think I truly am."
Blaise did not give her time to ask what Draco meant by that. Zabini was really drunk because he spoke in a slightly Italian accent – which Ginny assumed was the origin of his family – when he announced, cold and cruel as his best friend:
"I took your wife from you, Draco Malfoy." Zabini lied and smiled like a wolf about to attack a prey. "The least you can do is settle the score with me."
With incredible speed, Draco pulled his wand out of his pocket, pointing directly at Blaise, who in turn just smiled his most dazzling smile and raised his own wand towards Draco.
And all Ginny wanted was to get into the nearest hole and vanish from the face of the Earth.
N/A: Another cliffhanger, sorry!
We finally got inside Draco's head huh! Poor guy is a little confused, haha.
Please tell me what you think!
Always good to remember that comments are more than welcome - they are necessary for the continuity of the story. Without them, I don't know if it's worth keeping writing. A lot of people say 'I love your story, hope you know it', turns out, I do not! Not if you don't say it, haha
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See ya soon!