Disclaimer: All belong to JK
Rowling: plot mine. This is the last time I'm saying it.
A/N: OKAY!!!!! I'm sorry, I
LIED!!! It's the same night I put out chapter seven and now I'm writing this. I'm
addicted, what can I say? It's kind of like a drug . . . once I had a little of
it, I NEED MORE! Okay, I guess I'm just slightly hyper right now. I'll try to
calm down or else my parents will wake up ;). Okey dokie, down to business. . .
. (has this chapter name been used in HP books? It's late . . . my mind isn't
working and I'm too lazy to go and look! I strongly doubt it, but sorry if it
has been used before)
Draco
instinctively stepped around Ginny, shielding her from his father. His father
was the last person he'd expected to see . . . hell, if Snape had seen
them, it would've been better. Right then he was feeling very . . . well,
stupid. He hoped his expression remained hard and didn't show his feelings. If
there was one thing he was good at, it was disguising what he was really
thinking.
"Draco,"
Lucius Malfoy said, smiling tightly.
"What
are you doing here?" Draco snapped. You can't Apparate or Disapparate on
Hogwarts grounds, he thought. And that's the only way my father ever
travels.
"I came
by Floo powder," his father replied quickly, as if in a hurry to say something
else. "Your mother insisted I come to see if you were all right."
"I'm
fine."
"Apparently,"
Lucius said, stepping closer and looking around him at Ginny. Draco had a
strong urge to move with him, blocking his view. But he kept still. "Why are
you cowering, girl?" his father snapped at her.
Ginny
slowly stepped beside Draco. "I'm not." Draco had to give her one thing – she was
brave. Any other girl he knew would've been sobbing at being snapped at by
someone so powerful. But then again, all the girls he knew practically
worshipped the ground any Malfoy walked on. Ginny wasn't like most girls.
"I've
already spoken with Dumbledore," Lucius continued, ignoring Ginny. "The fool
agreed, though rather reluctantly, for you to come home for a few days."
"I'm
all right," Draco repeated. "I don't need to go home. I'll only get further
behind in my schoolwork."
"It's
all taken care of," Lucius said confidently. "Of course, your . . . friend could come, if she wanted to."
Draco
didn't glance at Ginny, but she stepped closer to him and he felt her shoulder
press against his. Father knows very well she's a Weasley, Draco
thought, trying to read his father's expression. Unfortunately, Lucius Malfoy was
just as good as hiding his emotions as his son. He would rather eat himself
for dinner than let one in his house. He would only kill her.
"We'll
both stay here, thanks," Ginny said sharply.
Lucius
gave her an amused look. Before even Draco could comprehend what he was doing,
he had pulled out his wand and said almost lazily, "Stupefy." Ginny
slumped onto her back to the ground, her wavy red-gold hair covering her face.
Draco stared at her for a moment, feeling numb momentarily. When he looked up,
his father was covering the distance between them. Draco had a very strong urge
to hit his father in the head and wipe off his smug look.
Instead, he just glowered at him. Lucius gave him a smirk. He grabbed
his son's arm and reached into his own pocket. Draco suddenly felt a tugging
around his naval.
An
instant later he was standing in a very familiar room. My father's study,
he thought as Lucius released his arm.
His dad
pulled out the marble he'd used to Portkey them there and threw it aside.
"I told
you I didn't want to come," Draco said through clenched teeth. He pictured
Ginny, still unconscious, on the ground back at Hogwarts. When she woke up,
what would she do? Would she think he'd left her on purpose?
Why
do I even care? he wondered, and turned his thoughts to what was happening
right then.
His
father had walked over to his desk and sat down in his chair. He gestured to
the chair in front of the desk, indicating that Draco should sit down. Draco
didn't move.
"You
can go back," Lucius told him calmly, sitting up perfectly straight in the chair
with his hands folded on the desk top. "I just want to ask you a few questions."
Draco
nearly sighed out loud. When his father wanted to ask him questions that only
meant one thing: Truth Potion.
He'd
started using Truth Potions on Draco back during fifth year, when he'd stopped
willingly giving information about Potter. Sometimes he managed to get really
good information from him . . . information Draco felt bad about giving. But it
wasn't his fault he knew so much . . . it wasn't his fault his father used the
Truth Potion on him. Why should he feel bad?
Draco
dropped heavily into the chair across from his father. Lucius smiled wickedly,
the way he always did when he got his way (which was pretty much all the time).
"Are
you going to answer me willingly?"
"You
know the answer to that question," Draco said coldly. His eyes never left his
father's – Lucius taught him that eye contact was the one thing that made the
difference between a boy and a man.
Draco heard the office doors open behind him, but didn't turn. Lucius broke their gaze first when one of their servants brought in a goblet – the goblet that contained the Truth Potion. Draco, who never looked away from his father's face, wondered if maybe the servant had been listening outside the door, waiting for his cue.
Lucius dismissed the servant before handing
the goblet to Draco. Reluctantly, Draco took it but just stared down at it.
"Are
you going to drink it or make friends with it?" Lucius demanded.
Draco
obviously must've not been able to cover his thoughts very well, because his
father instantly answered the question that was on his mind: Where did that
come from?
"You can
make friends with Weasleys," Lucius said. "I figured if you can do that, you
could probably make friends with rocks, too."
Draco
just glared.
"Well,
am I going to have to shove it down your throat or will you take it willingly? Either
way is fine with me."
Draco
tried not to sigh. He'd had it shoved down his throat before – that had
not been the most pleasant moment of his life. No matter what, he would
eventually drink it. Might as well do it the easy way.
Truth
Potion had no odor and no taste. Draco tried to take the smallest sip he could
manage, but quantity didn't matter. One drop was just as powerful as twenty
gallons.
Lucius
pulled out his wand and pointed it Draco. "Ennervate," he said.
Draco
felt normal. But he'd found out – the hard way – that it only started to hurt
when he didn't answer the question.
"Who
cares for Harry Potter?" Lucius asked.
Draco
felt a bit surprised. Normally his father started by asking him stupid
questions, like "Have you ever danced naked in your room before?" or "Have you
ever had impure thoughts about your mother?" Typical fun for Lucius Malfoy. But
this time was different – he just launched right into the main thing he wanted.
"Dumbledore,
Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Cho Chang –" (Harry had dated Cho Chang for a
year before she'd graduated Hogwarts and broke up with him) "Sirius Black,
Remus Lupin –"
"Does
Ginny Weasley care for him?"
Draco
was used to be interrupted – his father often thought of better questions
before he could finish answering one completely. "Yes." That's obvious,
Draco thought. Everyone knew Ginny had a major crush on him for most of her
life.
"And
does Potter care for her?"
It was
clear that Harry cared for Ginny, but probably more like a sister than anything
else. For some reason, Draco had a very bad feeling about that question. He
didn't want to answer it. For a moment, he kept his mouth shut. But he started
to feel a dull ache somewhere around his heart. After a few more seconds, the
ache turned into a pain. Soon it was too painful to bear, and he gritted out, "Yes."
Lucius
paused, thinking of another question. "Do you care for Hermione Granger?"
"No."
That was very easy.
"Ron
Weasley?"
"No."
And he knew exactly what was coming next.
Lucius
smirked and asked, "Do you care for Ginny Weasley?"
Okay,
this was most certainly a question he didn't want to answer. He would fight
this one even it killed him. The pain grew and grew and it felt as if his chest
was going to be ripped open. He bit down on his lip so hard he tasted blood. I
don't care if I die, I'm not going to answer. I won't, I won't, I just won't.
. . His father watched, amused, as he
tried to fight it.
And
still, even though Draco wanted to die rather than answer, the potion made him reply.
"Yes."
No
one's ever died from a Truth Potion, he thought. They're not made that
way . . . they're made to force the person to answer the truth.
"Very
well," Lucius said, looking pleased. "Rivonatory."
The
Truth Spell was now useless. Draco could lie all he wanted now. But it was too
late . . . he'd just admitted one thing he wouldn't have ever wanted to admit,
not even to Ginny herself.
"Haven't
I told you many times, Draco," Lucius said in a dangerously low voice, "that
having feelings for someone only makes you weak?"
Draco
kept his expression cold as he stood up. "I'm going back now. With or without
your help."
"That'll
take you back," Lucius said, waving a hand dismissively at another marble on
the corner of his desk.
Draco
wasn't very sure if his father was telling him the truth, but right then he
figured being Portkeyed to a nest of hungry, angry dragons would be better than
staying with Lucius. He grabbed the marble, and his father's study melted away.
It remolded into the Hogwarts grounds, right where he'd been standing when he'd
left.
Ginny
was still unconscious on the ground.
A/N: Still not the end, of course. I might be able
to finish this before my cousin comes *looks hopeful* Anywho, thank yous (why
does this list keep getting shorter? You peeps still need to review – yes, I
mean YOU!) Thanx to: Leela (I'm not trying to kill you . . . just trying to
keep you interested!) AlienChick (thanx for long reviews – love them!) Lady Ev
(Lucius didn't get THAT mad, but he does have something up his sleeve) and
sOmEoNeSpEcIaL (Harry deserved it! . . . I think *looks confused*).
Sorry this chapter is kinda short. I want to write
LONG chapters but I just can't seem to do it! Well, better to have short
chapters that come out more often than long chapters that don't, right? I guess
. . . whatever . . . okay, I'll shut up now.
Okay, maybe I won't shut up yet. One more thing:
Should I write more tonight? It's one thirty! Argghhhh!!!! I'm not tired at
all! Oh well. Review!
