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Ginny stared at him in complete disbelief.
"Why on earth would a dear, sweet man like Neville be in league with a git like you?"
"Neville and I had much more in common then you might imagine."
Ginny gave a humorless laugh. "How?"
He continued, with a note of irritation. "I'm not going to go into all the sordid little details." He stopped when he realized he was talking to the woman who was still mourning her lost love. "Look, I never would have asked him. He offered, and when it came down to it he was the only choice. I mean, who would expect him of it? If I'd thought they could ever have known, I'd have done something. I never thought he'd die, Ginny."
Ginny wasn't listening to Draco's pleas any longer. She sat on the cold floor and leaned her back against the wall, pulling her knees up to her chest.
"It's not true," she said with tears streaming down her face. "He couldn't keep a secret at all. Not from me."
"But her did, Ginny. Think rationally. For the past year Neville's been my only confidant. He must have seemed different."
"But he didn't. Not at all," Ginny replied. She wasn't going to let Malfoy know what an idiot she'd been. She had known something was wrong. In her head she attributed it to the fact that Neville's parents had been growing steadily worse now that Voldemort's evil was unchecked by the Ministry. She supposed she had known on some deeper level that Neville's uncontrollable night terrors were not just about his parents madness.
She drew a great shaking breath, and tried to calm herself. She still had unanswered questions and she wasn't about to let it all go this easily.
"What did you have to hide from?"
He looked at her, his silver eyes glinting with unshed tears. "Crabbe, Goyle, Voldemort." They had all wanted him dead for his "betrayal." He saved the worst for last, the one he'd truly been hiding from. "My father."
"Why?" Asked Ginny. She wasn't crying any longer, and when she spoke the words were cold and crisp. She felt detached somehow.
"In a most general sense, they felt I'd betrayed them, that I'd changed."
"Have you? Have you really changed from..."
"Being a great bloody git?" He finished her sentence. "Yes, I suppose. Neville helped a bit with all that, and some unfortunate events occurred that made me see things a little differently."
"What?"
"I understand the concern over Neville's involvement, but I won't tell you all my secrets Ginny. I've never been an open sort of person, and I doubt that I'll change that anytime soon. Suffice it to say that I had my reasons."
Ginny nodded at him. "I suppose that if Neville saved someone it provides a bit of comfort. If you're good now, like you say, then perhaps he did what he was meant to do."
"I never said I was good, Ginny. I'm just not evil anymore." At her look of pleading her added, "I'll try though. I'll make it so it shan't have been a waste."
Ginny nodded again, and looked at him. "Oh GOD!" She exclaimed in horror.
"What?" Draco questioned, as he looked about. Upon finding nothing wrong, he questioned further. "I haven't grown some kind of hideous facial deformity, have I?"
Ginny didn't take notice of his attempt at humor. "I've tied you up! I knocked you out and then tied you up!"
"Oh well spotted," Draco said dryly. "One would think you're the Minister of Magic with a wit like that."
"I am!" Ginny practically wailed. "I've only just been appointed, and I've gone and mucked it up by doing this. Think of what Mrs. Patil will say around Mum! 'There goes Molly, one child dead, the other certifiably insane...'"
"Well, I've got a novel idea," Draco told her. "Don't tell them about it."
"Well... I can't just leave you here to rot," Ginny remarked.
'That's why my earlier idea of untying me works into the plan so brilliantly..."
"Oh. I suppose if you won't tell..."
"You have my word."
Ginny laughed a little to herself. "I suppose I've gone a bit mad with all the stress..." he waved her wand in his direction. "Finite Incantum."
Draco wiggled his limbs about in an attempt to relieve some of his muscle aches.
"Much better," he smiled at her. "Let me see your hands."
Ginny obeyed without argument, knowing that it was the least she could do after she'd tied him up.
"Not broken, just scraped a bit. There's better light in the study, we'll go there."
"Why?"
"Because I can't see properly down here, and the catacombs have an odd effect on spells. Bad things happen. We're lucky none of yours have backfired. That's why we'll be walking rather than apparating. May I have my wand back?"
Ginny looked at him hesitantly, biting her bottom lip as if trying to decide what to do. Draco was getting irritated again. He was used to people blindly obeying his orders. He'd have to remember that people weren't as easy to order about as house elves were. He stared at her expectantly, waiting for something to happen.
She nodded, and pointed the spot on the floor where his wand lay. Evidently she hadn't come up of any clever way of hiding it, just left it on the floor. Draco picked it up, and walked out the door, Ginny following him.
Ginny found the catacombs frightening. There were manacles on some of the walls, and dark stains on the floors. Cobwebs abounded and a scurrying sound revealed the presence of rats. Draco moved quickly, and that reassured her somehow. He was only a few steps ahead of her, his shoes making a rhythmic clickety-clack sort of sound. When combined with the faraway dripping sound that echoed through the place, it was rather soothing. Clickety-clack, drip. Clickety-clack, drip. If she focused on the pattern, she found she didn't have to think about much at all. Clickety-clack, drip. Her eyelids began to droop, and she yawned. She felt ungodly tired. Draco seemed much farther ahead now, and he was saying something she couldn't quite make out. He was so far away, all she could hear was the steady dripping and the beating of her own heart. Then, the world turned topsy turvy, and Ginny couldn't hear anything at all.
Ginny stared at him in complete disbelief.
"Why on earth would a dear, sweet man like Neville be in league with a git like you?"
"Neville and I had much more in common then you might imagine."
Ginny gave a humorless laugh. "How?"
He continued, with a note of irritation. "I'm not going to go into all the sordid little details." He stopped when he realized he was talking to the woman who was still mourning her lost love. "Look, I never would have asked him. He offered, and when it came down to it he was the only choice. I mean, who would expect him of it? If I'd thought they could ever have known, I'd have done something. I never thought he'd die, Ginny."
Ginny wasn't listening to Draco's pleas any longer. She sat on the cold floor and leaned her back against the wall, pulling her knees up to her chest.
"It's not true," she said with tears streaming down her face. "He couldn't keep a secret at all. Not from me."
"But her did, Ginny. Think rationally. For the past year Neville's been my only confidant. He must have seemed different."
"But he didn't. Not at all," Ginny replied. She wasn't going to let Malfoy know what an idiot she'd been. She had known something was wrong. In her head she attributed it to the fact that Neville's parents had been growing steadily worse now that Voldemort's evil was unchecked by the Ministry. She supposed she had known on some deeper level that Neville's uncontrollable night terrors were not just about his parents madness.
She drew a great shaking breath, and tried to calm herself. She still had unanswered questions and she wasn't about to let it all go this easily.
"What did you have to hide from?"
He looked at her, his silver eyes glinting with unshed tears. "Crabbe, Goyle, Voldemort." They had all wanted him dead for his "betrayal." He saved the worst for last, the one he'd truly been hiding from. "My father."
"Why?" Asked Ginny. She wasn't crying any longer, and when she spoke the words were cold and crisp. She felt detached somehow.
"In a most general sense, they felt I'd betrayed them, that I'd changed."
"Have you? Have you really changed from..."
"Being a great bloody git?" He finished her sentence. "Yes, I suppose. Neville helped a bit with all that, and some unfortunate events occurred that made me see things a little differently."
"What?"
"I understand the concern over Neville's involvement, but I won't tell you all my secrets Ginny. I've never been an open sort of person, and I doubt that I'll change that anytime soon. Suffice it to say that I had my reasons."
Ginny nodded at him. "I suppose that if Neville saved someone it provides a bit of comfort. If you're good now, like you say, then perhaps he did what he was meant to do."
"I never said I was good, Ginny. I'm just not evil anymore." At her look of pleading her added, "I'll try though. I'll make it so it shan't have been a waste."
Ginny nodded again, and looked at him. "Oh GOD!" She exclaimed in horror.
"What?" Draco questioned, as he looked about. Upon finding nothing wrong, he questioned further. "I haven't grown some kind of hideous facial deformity, have I?"
Ginny didn't take notice of his attempt at humor. "I've tied you up! I knocked you out and then tied you up!"
"Oh well spotted," Draco said dryly. "One would think you're the Minister of Magic with a wit like that."
"I am!" Ginny practically wailed. "I've only just been appointed, and I've gone and mucked it up by doing this. Think of what Mrs. Patil will say around Mum! 'There goes Molly, one child dead, the other certifiably insane...'"
"Well, I've got a novel idea," Draco told her. "Don't tell them about it."
"Well... I can't just leave you here to rot," Ginny remarked.
'That's why my earlier idea of untying me works into the plan so brilliantly..."
"Oh. I suppose if you won't tell..."
"You have my word."
Ginny laughed a little to herself. "I suppose I've gone a bit mad with all the stress..." he waved her wand in his direction. "Finite Incantum."
Draco wiggled his limbs about in an attempt to relieve some of his muscle aches.
"Much better," he smiled at her. "Let me see your hands."
Ginny obeyed without argument, knowing that it was the least she could do after she'd tied him up.
"Not broken, just scraped a bit. There's better light in the study, we'll go there."
"Why?"
"Because I can't see properly down here, and the catacombs have an odd effect on spells. Bad things happen. We're lucky none of yours have backfired. That's why we'll be walking rather than apparating. May I have my wand back?"
Ginny looked at him hesitantly, biting her bottom lip as if trying to decide what to do. Draco was getting irritated again. He was used to people blindly obeying his orders. He'd have to remember that people weren't as easy to order about as house elves were. He stared at her expectantly, waiting for something to happen.
She nodded, and pointed the spot on the floor where his wand lay. Evidently she hadn't come up of any clever way of hiding it, just left it on the floor. Draco picked it up, and walked out the door, Ginny following him.
Ginny found the catacombs frightening. There were manacles on some of the walls, and dark stains on the floors. Cobwebs abounded and a scurrying sound revealed the presence of rats. Draco moved quickly, and that reassured her somehow. He was only a few steps ahead of her, his shoes making a rhythmic clickety-clack sort of sound. When combined with the faraway dripping sound that echoed through the place, it was rather soothing. Clickety-clack, drip. Clickety-clack, drip. If she focused on the pattern, she found she didn't have to think about much at all. Clickety-clack, drip. Her eyelids began to droop, and she yawned. She felt ungodly tired. Draco seemed much farther ahead now, and he was saying something she couldn't quite make out. He was so far away, all she could hear was the steady dripping and the beating of her own heart. Then, the world turned topsy turvy, and Ginny couldn't hear anything at all.