A/N: okay, okay, my old English really stinks, but I guess everyone got the idea. This chapter was getting on to 22 pages long, so I decided to divide it and make it two chapters. I'm almost done with the second half and should post it tonight. Then I'll start on the epilogue. Also, I searched and searched and couldn't find reference to Arthur's or Bill's eye colour, so I took the liberty of assigning it, myself. If I made a mistake, I apologize in advance.
Chapter 12
Ginny came slowly awake, aware of soft voices talking quietly around her. She didn't open her eyes yet. She felt exhausted, bruised, and battered. And her shoulder ached horribly. She wasn't a bit disoriented, though. She must be in Hogwarts' hospital wing. Draco had been able to rescue her, and now she was safe. But she wasn't certain she wanted to face anyone yet. She had vague memories of a crowd of people outside the tunnel, including her brother and the Headmaster. She knew her brother would want to know what had happened, and she honestly didn't know what to tell him.
She tried to imagine his reaction if she told the truth. `Gee, Ron,' she imagined herself saying, `I kidnapped Malfoy after he beat the hell out of me, then while I had him locked up, I kind of fell in love with him.' Huh, she thought, he'd really take THAT well, wouldn't he? She listened to the voices, sorting them out and taking in what was being said.
"When is she going to wake up?" she heard Ron ask in a worried voice.
"Your sister lost a lot of blood, as well as having a concussion, bruises and a dislocated shoulder. Her body needs time to recover from the shock it's suffered. She may wake at any time, or she may sleep several more hours." The healer's starchy voice made Ginny want to giggle, but she stifled it.
"You should return to your dormitory, Mr. Weasley. I'll inform you as soon as she wakes."
Ginny waited for her brother's response, but another voice interrupted.
"We'd rather wait here, to make sure she's safe."
What was Harry doing here, Ginny wondered? And why would they want to make sure she was safe?
"While your concern is admirable, Harry, I think it would be better if you and Ron returned to Gryffindor Tower." The Headmaster's voice was gentle, but held no room for argument.
Ginny gave a silent sigh of relief. At least she wouldn't have to face anyone right now.
The young men grumbled a bit, but finally left. Ron even said something like, `Then why does HE get to stay here?' before departing. Was it possible that Draco was waiting for her to wake up, too? Ginny waited until she was sure they were gone before opening her eyes. As she had expected, Professor Dumbledore was sitting beside her bed. The person beside him, however, was not Draco Malfoy.
"Bill!" she cried, seeing her older brother watching her with a great deal of concern. "What are you doing here?"
Bill was the favorite of all her brothers. He was years older, but was closest to her in temperament. And he was the only other of the Weasley offspring with their father's brown eyes. Right now he smiled gently at her.
"Well, I'm glad to see you, too, luv!" He reached out to fluff her tousled curls and gave her one of the special smiles he reserved for her alone.
"You look rather like what the cat dragged in, luv. What have you been doing to yourself?"
The words were light, but Ginny heard the concern behind them. She looked from Bill to Professor Dumbledore. The Headmaster wasn't smiling. In fact, his expression was graver than Ginny had seen it in years. She looked down at her hands. How could she answer? What did they already know? She was about to plead fatigue to get out of answering her brother, but Professor Dumbledore spoke.
"We've already had bits and pieces of the story from the Baron and the Lady of the portrait, as well as from Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle. I would like you to tell me the story from the beginning, so I can decide what's to be done with all of you."
Ginny bit her lip, worried. When they found out that she had locked Draco up, would they expel her? Speaking of Draco, the Headmaster hadn't mentioned him. Hadn't they questioned him yet? Or had he been hurt worse than she had?
"And Draco?" she asked, almost desperately. "What did he say? Is he all right?"
The men exchanged a look, but Bill answered.
"Malfoy is still unconscious. He was using some pretty powerful magic, and it drained his system. He's healing, but Madam P can't get him to wake up."
Ginny caught her breath as the Headmaster continued.
"We were hoping, Miss Weasley, that you could tell us what had happened, so we could better treat him."
Ginny looked at both men, wondering what they weren't telling her. They were withholding something, she was certain.
"Can I, uh, see him?" she asked, still avoiding any explanations. Whatever she said was going to get the lot of them in hot water. Crabbe and Goyle deserved it, but Draco had risked his life to save her. She wasn't going to repay him by getting him expelled, or worse, imprisoned. She wanted to talk to him, to see what he wanted to do.
Bill looked at the Headmaster and shrugged. Professor Dumbledore turned his thoughtful blue eyes on Ginny, considering. He stroked his beard, somewhat absently. Ginny looked back, keeping eye contact, wanting to show them that she was determined. The professor held her eyes another moment, the smiled. It was a small, sad smile, but it was a smile.
"Very well, Miss Weasley, as you seem so determined, we'll go see Mr. Malfoy. Remember, though," he added as he and Bill rose from their seats, "he was badly injured and is totally exhausted. He may not waken, and his appearance may be a bit shocking."
Ginny nodded and moved to sit up. The pain that shot through her shoulder drove her back to her pillows. She gasped, but bit her lip and pushed herself up, knowing that the Headmaster and her brother were watching. If she needed help to get up, they might decide she was too weak to see Draco. Now that she could see, she noticed that her arm was heavily swathed in bandages and strapped securely across her chest. Reaching her uninjured hand to her face, she felt a few adhesive strips, but the swelling and scrapes seemed to be, for the most part, gone. The pain in her shoulder settled into a dull ache now that she was sitting. Besides feeling incredibly weak, she thought she was doing pretty well.
Pulling her legs from the blankets, she threw them over the side of the bed. She was wearing a long, pea-green hospital gown that reached to her shins. She was thankful that it was a regular gown, and not one of those `johnnies' that opened in the back. She also had heavy wool socks on her feet. That should be enough, she thought, trying to suppress a shiver from the cold that seeped up from the stone floor.
"Here, put this on." Bill shrugged out of his robe, revealing his typical faded jeans, button-up Levi shirt and dragon hide boots.
Ginny smiled weakly and slid off the mattress. She pulled Bill's robe on, gathering the hem in her hands. Bill grinned and rolled the sleeve of her uninjured arm back so she could use the hand more easily. Then he connected a few of the fastenings for her.
"Right, then," she told the two men. "I'm ready."
"This way, then," Professor Dumbledore said, turning and leading them toward the rear of the hospital wing.
Ginny moved close to her brother, looking up at his long, lean face with the longish nose so like their father's. She was glad to see him, but couldn't understand what he was doing at Hogwarts. Then she suddenly remembered something.
"Bill," she whispered, tugging his arm, "what ARE you doing here? Shouldn't you be home with Sophia and the baby? Did something happen to the baby?"
He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, careful not to jostle her shoulder. He gave her another of his special smiles and shook his head.
"Don't worry, the babies are fine! It was twins, and Mum and Dad are with Sophia and the kids. But I was already here. Had some important business to discuss with the Headmaster."
Ginny gasped. "Twins? Boys or girls?" she asked excitedly.
"Both flavors," Bill grinned, radiating pride.
Ginny returned his grin, her adhesive strips pulling a bit. Then she frowned. "But Bill, what could be that urgent? At the holidays, with newborns in the house?"
Bill's usually open face suddenly became shuttered. "Sorry, luv, I really can't discuss it," he said quietly.
Ginny knew better than to try to tease the information from him. He wouldn't tell her and that was that. It must be really important if it pulled him away from his wife and new babies right now. She wanted to know what would bring him here, but knew if he wouldn't tell her, he had good reasons. Besides, she had enough on her plate right now without worrying about Bill's business, which had grown to include mysterious Ministry affairs totally unrelated to spell-breaking. She merely nodded and hiked up the billowing hem of Bill's robe again. She glanced ahead and saw that the Headmaster was standing in front of a door she'd never noticed before, despite being in and out of the hospital wing almost weekly in her healing class.
"Let me remind you, Miss Weasley, that Mr. Malfoy's appearance might be a bit alarming. Using such pure magic without the insulation of a wand can have a very draining effect on a person who is not used to it."
Ginny nodded, bracing herself.
Professor Dumbledore said a few words as he waved his hand toward the door. He wasn't using a wand, she noted with a shock of surprise. He could use his magic without a wand, too? She knew she shouldn't be surprised, with him being such a powerful wizard, but it was just to STRANGE to see it happen.
The door lock snicked open, and he pushed it wide, moving aside for Ginny to enter.
"We'll wait here," he told her suddenly, as though coming to a decision. "If you need anything or if he comes `round, just call."
Ginny gave him a grateful look and moved to enter. Bill let her go, but added, "Be careful, luv."
She entered the room, wondering what Bill thought she needed to be careful about. The door closed behind her and she glanced around. There was a bed in the center of the room with a bedside table. Two or three small, uncomfortable looking chairs were placed around the bed. That was it. There were no windows in the room, and if there were large wall sconces or a chandelier for lighting, they remained unlit. The room was dark, save for a small candle burning on the bedside table. Ginny moved farther into the room, just able to make out a lump under the blankets. She moved to the side of the bed and caught her breath.
He was so pale! She reached out to touch his cheek, noticing that the stubble had been either shaved or magically removed. His face was smooth and unlined and completely expressionless. Without the customary smirk, he looked much younger than his seventeen or eighteen years. He almost looked angelic. She touched his cheek and snatched her hand back instantly. He was freezing! She looked at him again, feeling herself starting to shake, despite Bill's robe. He couldn't be...No, she wouldn't even think it! Then, she saw the very slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.
Ginny felt almost lightheaded with relief. Draco's hand was lying on top of the blanket, and Ginny took in hers. His hand was icy, but she held it tightly. As she watched his face, she saw the first signs of life.
"Come on, Draco, you can't leave me yet. We haven't had that discussion yet!" She chafed his hand, continuing to murmur softly to him. She didn't know what she said; she just talked.
Draco's face seemed to stiffen, as though listening to something unpleasant. Ginny almost stopped, but when she tried to pull her hand away, his tightened almost painfully. Biting her lip, Ginny squeezed back, whispering softly again.
Draco was in a dark, silent place. He didn't like it here, but didn't know how to get out. He could see himself. He was sitting on a cold bench, head bowed, arms resting on his knees. He was weary beyond belief. There was something he was waiting for, but whatever it was, it hadn't happened yet. And it seemed it mightn't ever happen. He had been waiting for so long. Then the voice started. He knew the voice. It was cold, hard and unforgiving. It was the voice he'd heard his entire life. And now it was pounding at him, relentless and disturbing.
"You're a disgrace! You could have killed the little bitch, but you didn't. You could have given her to our master, but you didn't. Her pure magic, virgin's blood could have washed the Muggle taint from his blood. And that Muggle-loving excuse for a Headmaster tells me some unbelievable garbage about you being taken prisoner! How could you let her do that? You don't deserve to live! And if you do HAPPEN to survive, don't come back home, because you have no home anymore!"
The voice continued on and on, the same things over and over and over. Draco could feel himself falling deeper and deeper into the dark place. The only thing he could do was to pray that it would get silent again. Whatever was supposed to happen wasn't going to, not now. His prayer was granted eventually. The voice broke off abruptly, and he sank gratefully into the silence. There was nothing left to do but let go completely. He sank deeper, feeling the cold grip him. That was the only bad thing, the cold. But it didn't matter. He'd be beyond the cold soon enough.
That was when the second voice began. But this voice was quite different from the other. He was so far gone, he couldn't make out the words, but the tone was what caught him. He heard concern, but he heard longing, as well. There was something familiar in the voice. Something he'd been longing for. This was what he'd been waiting for! But what if the voice stopped? He saw himself lift his head and frown. As though the thought caused it, he heard the voice begin to die out. He reached out, trying to pull it back, and miraculously, it came back! The darkness receded, warmth began to flood his body. As he watched, he saw himself stand. The words were becoming clearer. The voice was calling him, pleading for him to come back. It was scolding him for something he hadn't done, but the scolding was only a cover for the concern he'd heard. He watched himself smile, wanting to hold the voice and promise to protect it. The room grew brighter and a door suddenly appeared in the blank
wall. He walked toward it, and as it opened, the brilliant light streaming through surrounded him.
"Please, Draco, don't leave me now," Ginny begged. Tears coursed down her cheeks now, but she didn't notice them as she held his hand and stroked at the weak pulse in his wrist with her thumb.
She was badly frightened. When she'd touched his hand at first, she'd only noticed how cold it was. But the longer she held it, the more she noticed the absence of his essence. She'd touched him before, and always, under the fear or the excitement or the longing, she'd felt his life force, strong and pulsing. The ability was one of the things that made her such a promising healer. But now she barely felt it at all, and what she felt seemed to be draining away. She didn't even realize she was crying as she begged, threatened, cajoled him to come back. She was desperate.
"You c-can't go now," she told him. "I need you to show me that--," she paused, swallowing hard. "You need to show me that Crabbe's way isn't the only way!"
She sat on the mattress next to him. "Draco Malfoy," she said finally, her voice shaking, "if y-you don't c-come back, I'll n-never forgive you!"
Then she gasped. Colour was suffusing his cheeks, his hand was growing warm. As she watched, his eyelids fluttered, almost delicately. The gray eyes were vague and unfocused at first, then, abruptly, focused sharply on her face. He reached up and tangled his free hand in her short curls, pulling her closer.
"You're here," he whispered huskily. "I thought I imagined it."
"Of course, I'm here," she answered softly. "We still have things to discuss." Ginny blushed slightly at her boldness.
Draco gave her a small smile and tried to pull himself up to kiss her, but was barely able to brush her lips with his. He fell back against the pillow with a disgusted sigh.
Ginny hid her disappointment and added hesitantly, "Oh, and Professor Dumbledore is waiting to see you."
"Just as well," Draco muttered. "As weak as I am, talking is about all I'm good for!"
Ginny laughed, surprised. She had thought perhaps he'd decided he didn't really want to kiss her after all, but it was just that he wasn't feeling well.
Draco struggled to sit up, but couldn't seem to manage it. Ginny reached out, concerned, but his look stopped her.
"Damn it, Virginia, I'm not helpless. I can do it myself!" he snapped.
Ginny pulled her hand back quickly, and tucked it into her lap. She bit her lip and turned to slip off of the bed. His hand grasped her wrist, holding her. She refused to look at him, afraid she'd cry. She knew he wasn't feeling up to snuff, but that didn't give him the right to snap at her. It was probably his real personality coming out, she told herself.
"Virginia, look at me," he said, sliding his hand up her arm to her shoulder. "Please?"
Ginny turned around slightly and focused on his chin. "What?"
"Virginia," Draco said again, this time softening his voice. "Look at me, not my chin!"
She raised her eyes until she was staring into his. He didn't look angry now, but he'd sounded so like the Draco that had made her entire year so horrid.
"I'm sorry I snapped at you, Virginia. I'm just not used to being so weak, or being dependent on others. Would you mind helping me?"
Ginny nodded and stood. She wrapped her good arm around his shoulders and pulled him into a sitting position.
"You'll have to hold yourself up while I stack the pillows," she told him. With only one working arm, this was an awkward business.
It took a few minutes, but Draco was finally propped up against the pillows. He looked as though he'd been through a wringer, but he seemed determined to talk to the Headmaster right away.
"All right, Virginia, bring in the Inquisitor!" he quipped.
Ginny didn't appreciate his humor, but she didn't say anything. She moved to the door and opened it. Professor Dumbledore was standing a few feet away with his hands clasped behind his back. He looked as though he had been pacing. He looked up expectantly and Ginny nodded.
"He's awake!" she said.
His blue eyes had been very somber, but now they lit up. "You're amazing, Miss Weasley. Madam Pomfrey and Medic Timmons weren't exaggerating your talents."
Professor Dumbledore entered the room and stopped, gazing at the pale young man in the bed.
Chapter 12
Ginny came slowly awake, aware of soft voices talking quietly around her. She didn't open her eyes yet. She felt exhausted, bruised, and battered. And her shoulder ached horribly. She wasn't a bit disoriented, though. She must be in Hogwarts' hospital wing. Draco had been able to rescue her, and now she was safe. But she wasn't certain she wanted to face anyone yet. She had vague memories of a crowd of people outside the tunnel, including her brother and the Headmaster. She knew her brother would want to know what had happened, and she honestly didn't know what to tell him.
She tried to imagine his reaction if she told the truth. `Gee, Ron,' she imagined herself saying, `I kidnapped Malfoy after he beat the hell out of me, then while I had him locked up, I kind of fell in love with him.' Huh, she thought, he'd really take THAT well, wouldn't he? She listened to the voices, sorting them out and taking in what was being said.
"When is she going to wake up?" she heard Ron ask in a worried voice.
"Your sister lost a lot of blood, as well as having a concussion, bruises and a dislocated shoulder. Her body needs time to recover from the shock it's suffered. She may wake at any time, or she may sleep several more hours." The healer's starchy voice made Ginny want to giggle, but she stifled it.
"You should return to your dormitory, Mr. Weasley. I'll inform you as soon as she wakes."
Ginny waited for her brother's response, but another voice interrupted.
"We'd rather wait here, to make sure she's safe."
What was Harry doing here, Ginny wondered? And why would they want to make sure she was safe?
"While your concern is admirable, Harry, I think it would be better if you and Ron returned to Gryffindor Tower." The Headmaster's voice was gentle, but held no room for argument.
Ginny gave a silent sigh of relief. At least she wouldn't have to face anyone right now.
The young men grumbled a bit, but finally left. Ron even said something like, `Then why does HE get to stay here?' before departing. Was it possible that Draco was waiting for her to wake up, too? Ginny waited until she was sure they were gone before opening her eyes. As she had expected, Professor Dumbledore was sitting beside her bed. The person beside him, however, was not Draco Malfoy.
"Bill!" she cried, seeing her older brother watching her with a great deal of concern. "What are you doing here?"
Bill was the favorite of all her brothers. He was years older, but was closest to her in temperament. And he was the only other of the Weasley offspring with their father's brown eyes. Right now he smiled gently at her.
"Well, I'm glad to see you, too, luv!" He reached out to fluff her tousled curls and gave her one of the special smiles he reserved for her alone.
"You look rather like what the cat dragged in, luv. What have you been doing to yourself?"
The words were light, but Ginny heard the concern behind them. She looked from Bill to Professor Dumbledore. The Headmaster wasn't smiling. In fact, his expression was graver than Ginny had seen it in years. She looked down at her hands. How could she answer? What did they already know? She was about to plead fatigue to get out of answering her brother, but Professor Dumbledore spoke.
"We've already had bits and pieces of the story from the Baron and the Lady of the portrait, as well as from Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle. I would like you to tell me the story from the beginning, so I can decide what's to be done with all of you."
Ginny bit her lip, worried. When they found out that she had locked Draco up, would they expel her? Speaking of Draco, the Headmaster hadn't mentioned him. Hadn't they questioned him yet? Or had he been hurt worse than she had?
"And Draco?" she asked, almost desperately. "What did he say? Is he all right?"
The men exchanged a look, but Bill answered.
"Malfoy is still unconscious. He was using some pretty powerful magic, and it drained his system. He's healing, but Madam P can't get him to wake up."
Ginny caught her breath as the Headmaster continued.
"We were hoping, Miss Weasley, that you could tell us what had happened, so we could better treat him."
Ginny looked at both men, wondering what they weren't telling her. They were withholding something, she was certain.
"Can I, uh, see him?" she asked, still avoiding any explanations. Whatever she said was going to get the lot of them in hot water. Crabbe and Goyle deserved it, but Draco had risked his life to save her. She wasn't going to repay him by getting him expelled, or worse, imprisoned. She wanted to talk to him, to see what he wanted to do.
Bill looked at the Headmaster and shrugged. Professor Dumbledore turned his thoughtful blue eyes on Ginny, considering. He stroked his beard, somewhat absently. Ginny looked back, keeping eye contact, wanting to show them that she was determined. The professor held her eyes another moment, the smiled. It was a small, sad smile, but it was a smile.
"Very well, Miss Weasley, as you seem so determined, we'll go see Mr. Malfoy. Remember, though," he added as he and Bill rose from their seats, "he was badly injured and is totally exhausted. He may not waken, and his appearance may be a bit shocking."
Ginny nodded and moved to sit up. The pain that shot through her shoulder drove her back to her pillows. She gasped, but bit her lip and pushed herself up, knowing that the Headmaster and her brother were watching. If she needed help to get up, they might decide she was too weak to see Draco. Now that she could see, she noticed that her arm was heavily swathed in bandages and strapped securely across her chest. Reaching her uninjured hand to her face, she felt a few adhesive strips, but the swelling and scrapes seemed to be, for the most part, gone. The pain in her shoulder settled into a dull ache now that she was sitting. Besides feeling incredibly weak, she thought she was doing pretty well.
Pulling her legs from the blankets, she threw them over the side of the bed. She was wearing a long, pea-green hospital gown that reached to her shins. She was thankful that it was a regular gown, and not one of those `johnnies' that opened in the back. She also had heavy wool socks on her feet. That should be enough, she thought, trying to suppress a shiver from the cold that seeped up from the stone floor.
"Here, put this on." Bill shrugged out of his robe, revealing his typical faded jeans, button-up Levi shirt and dragon hide boots.
Ginny smiled weakly and slid off the mattress. She pulled Bill's robe on, gathering the hem in her hands. Bill grinned and rolled the sleeve of her uninjured arm back so she could use the hand more easily. Then he connected a few of the fastenings for her.
"Right, then," she told the two men. "I'm ready."
"This way, then," Professor Dumbledore said, turning and leading them toward the rear of the hospital wing.
Ginny moved close to her brother, looking up at his long, lean face with the longish nose so like their father's. She was glad to see him, but couldn't understand what he was doing at Hogwarts. Then she suddenly remembered something.
"Bill," she whispered, tugging his arm, "what ARE you doing here? Shouldn't you be home with Sophia and the baby? Did something happen to the baby?"
He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, careful not to jostle her shoulder. He gave her another of his special smiles and shook his head.
"Don't worry, the babies are fine! It was twins, and Mum and Dad are with Sophia and the kids. But I was already here. Had some important business to discuss with the Headmaster."
Ginny gasped. "Twins? Boys or girls?" she asked excitedly.
"Both flavors," Bill grinned, radiating pride.
Ginny returned his grin, her adhesive strips pulling a bit. Then she frowned. "But Bill, what could be that urgent? At the holidays, with newborns in the house?"
Bill's usually open face suddenly became shuttered. "Sorry, luv, I really can't discuss it," he said quietly.
Ginny knew better than to try to tease the information from him. He wouldn't tell her and that was that. It must be really important if it pulled him away from his wife and new babies right now. She wanted to know what would bring him here, but knew if he wouldn't tell her, he had good reasons. Besides, she had enough on her plate right now without worrying about Bill's business, which had grown to include mysterious Ministry affairs totally unrelated to spell-breaking. She merely nodded and hiked up the billowing hem of Bill's robe again. She glanced ahead and saw that the Headmaster was standing in front of a door she'd never noticed before, despite being in and out of the hospital wing almost weekly in her healing class.
"Let me remind you, Miss Weasley, that Mr. Malfoy's appearance might be a bit alarming. Using such pure magic without the insulation of a wand can have a very draining effect on a person who is not used to it."
Ginny nodded, bracing herself.
Professor Dumbledore said a few words as he waved his hand toward the door. He wasn't using a wand, she noted with a shock of surprise. He could use his magic without a wand, too? She knew she shouldn't be surprised, with him being such a powerful wizard, but it was just to STRANGE to see it happen.
The door lock snicked open, and he pushed it wide, moving aside for Ginny to enter.
"We'll wait here," he told her suddenly, as though coming to a decision. "If you need anything or if he comes `round, just call."
Ginny gave him a grateful look and moved to enter. Bill let her go, but added, "Be careful, luv."
She entered the room, wondering what Bill thought she needed to be careful about. The door closed behind her and she glanced around. There was a bed in the center of the room with a bedside table. Two or three small, uncomfortable looking chairs were placed around the bed. That was it. There were no windows in the room, and if there were large wall sconces or a chandelier for lighting, they remained unlit. The room was dark, save for a small candle burning on the bedside table. Ginny moved farther into the room, just able to make out a lump under the blankets. She moved to the side of the bed and caught her breath.
He was so pale! She reached out to touch his cheek, noticing that the stubble had been either shaved or magically removed. His face was smooth and unlined and completely expressionless. Without the customary smirk, he looked much younger than his seventeen or eighteen years. He almost looked angelic. She touched his cheek and snatched her hand back instantly. He was freezing! She looked at him again, feeling herself starting to shake, despite Bill's robe. He couldn't be...No, she wouldn't even think it! Then, she saw the very slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.
Ginny felt almost lightheaded with relief. Draco's hand was lying on top of the blanket, and Ginny took in hers. His hand was icy, but she held it tightly. As she watched his face, she saw the first signs of life.
"Come on, Draco, you can't leave me yet. We haven't had that discussion yet!" She chafed his hand, continuing to murmur softly to him. She didn't know what she said; she just talked.
Draco's face seemed to stiffen, as though listening to something unpleasant. Ginny almost stopped, but when she tried to pull her hand away, his tightened almost painfully. Biting her lip, Ginny squeezed back, whispering softly again.
Draco was in a dark, silent place. He didn't like it here, but didn't know how to get out. He could see himself. He was sitting on a cold bench, head bowed, arms resting on his knees. He was weary beyond belief. There was something he was waiting for, but whatever it was, it hadn't happened yet. And it seemed it mightn't ever happen. He had been waiting for so long. Then the voice started. He knew the voice. It was cold, hard and unforgiving. It was the voice he'd heard his entire life. And now it was pounding at him, relentless and disturbing.
"You're a disgrace! You could have killed the little bitch, but you didn't. You could have given her to our master, but you didn't. Her pure magic, virgin's blood could have washed the Muggle taint from his blood. And that Muggle-loving excuse for a Headmaster tells me some unbelievable garbage about you being taken prisoner! How could you let her do that? You don't deserve to live! And if you do HAPPEN to survive, don't come back home, because you have no home anymore!"
The voice continued on and on, the same things over and over and over. Draco could feel himself falling deeper and deeper into the dark place. The only thing he could do was to pray that it would get silent again. Whatever was supposed to happen wasn't going to, not now. His prayer was granted eventually. The voice broke off abruptly, and he sank gratefully into the silence. There was nothing left to do but let go completely. He sank deeper, feeling the cold grip him. That was the only bad thing, the cold. But it didn't matter. He'd be beyond the cold soon enough.
That was when the second voice began. But this voice was quite different from the other. He was so far gone, he couldn't make out the words, but the tone was what caught him. He heard concern, but he heard longing, as well. There was something familiar in the voice. Something he'd been longing for. This was what he'd been waiting for! But what if the voice stopped? He saw himself lift his head and frown. As though the thought caused it, he heard the voice begin to die out. He reached out, trying to pull it back, and miraculously, it came back! The darkness receded, warmth began to flood his body. As he watched, he saw himself stand. The words were becoming clearer. The voice was calling him, pleading for him to come back. It was scolding him for something he hadn't done, but the scolding was only a cover for the concern he'd heard. He watched himself smile, wanting to hold the voice and promise to protect it. The room grew brighter and a door suddenly appeared in the blank
wall. He walked toward it, and as it opened, the brilliant light streaming through surrounded him.
"Please, Draco, don't leave me now," Ginny begged. Tears coursed down her cheeks now, but she didn't notice them as she held his hand and stroked at the weak pulse in his wrist with her thumb.
She was badly frightened. When she'd touched his hand at first, she'd only noticed how cold it was. But the longer she held it, the more she noticed the absence of his essence. She'd touched him before, and always, under the fear or the excitement or the longing, she'd felt his life force, strong and pulsing. The ability was one of the things that made her such a promising healer. But now she barely felt it at all, and what she felt seemed to be draining away. She didn't even realize she was crying as she begged, threatened, cajoled him to come back. She was desperate.
"You c-can't go now," she told him. "I need you to show me that--," she paused, swallowing hard. "You need to show me that Crabbe's way isn't the only way!"
She sat on the mattress next to him. "Draco Malfoy," she said finally, her voice shaking, "if y-you don't c-come back, I'll n-never forgive you!"
Then she gasped. Colour was suffusing his cheeks, his hand was growing warm. As she watched, his eyelids fluttered, almost delicately. The gray eyes were vague and unfocused at first, then, abruptly, focused sharply on her face. He reached up and tangled his free hand in her short curls, pulling her closer.
"You're here," he whispered huskily. "I thought I imagined it."
"Of course, I'm here," she answered softly. "We still have things to discuss." Ginny blushed slightly at her boldness.
Draco gave her a small smile and tried to pull himself up to kiss her, but was barely able to brush her lips with his. He fell back against the pillow with a disgusted sigh.
Ginny hid her disappointment and added hesitantly, "Oh, and Professor Dumbledore is waiting to see you."
"Just as well," Draco muttered. "As weak as I am, talking is about all I'm good for!"
Ginny laughed, surprised. She had thought perhaps he'd decided he didn't really want to kiss her after all, but it was just that he wasn't feeling well.
Draco struggled to sit up, but couldn't seem to manage it. Ginny reached out, concerned, but his look stopped her.
"Damn it, Virginia, I'm not helpless. I can do it myself!" he snapped.
Ginny pulled her hand back quickly, and tucked it into her lap. She bit her lip and turned to slip off of the bed. His hand grasped her wrist, holding her. She refused to look at him, afraid she'd cry. She knew he wasn't feeling up to snuff, but that didn't give him the right to snap at her. It was probably his real personality coming out, she told herself.
"Virginia, look at me," he said, sliding his hand up her arm to her shoulder. "Please?"
Ginny turned around slightly and focused on his chin. "What?"
"Virginia," Draco said again, this time softening his voice. "Look at me, not my chin!"
She raised her eyes until she was staring into his. He didn't look angry now, but he'd sounded so like the Draco that had made her entire year so horrid.
"I'm sorry I snapped at you, Virginia. I'm just not used to being so weak, or being dependent on others. Would you mind helping me?"
Ginny nodded and stood. She wrapped her good arm around his shoulders and pulled him into a sitting position.
"You'll have to hold yourself up while I stack the pillows," she told him. With only one working arm, this was an awkward business.
It took a few minutes, but Draco was finally propped up against the pillows. He looked as though he'd been through a wringer, but he seemed determined to talk to the Headmaster right away.
"All right, Virginia, bring in the Inquisitor!" he quipped.
Ginny didn't appreciate his humor, but she didn't say anything. She moved to the door and opened it. Professor Dumbledore was standing a few feet away with his hands clasped behind his back. He looked as though he had been pacing. He looked up expectantly and Ginny nodded.
"He's awake!" she said.
His blue eyes had been very somber, but now they lit up. "You're amazing, Miss Weasley. Madam Pomfrey and Medic Timmons weren't exaggerating your talents."
Professor Dumbledore entered the room and stopped, gazing at the pale young man in the bed.