Title: After The Rain Has Fallen
Author: Song Prophet
Pairing: D/G
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Just borrowing!
Dedication: To Gauri, my caffeine.
Feedback: Makes me a very happy camper, who writes more!
Distribution: Sure! Just give me credit, and tell me where you're putting it.
Songs: After The Rain Has Fallen by Sting.
Summary: Draco comes in the night to get his things back from Ginny Weasley. He does not bargain that she will ask to come with him as well. Will he abandon her there to a man she has never known, or will he go out of his way to save the daughter of an enemy from a life she is better than?
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There would be nothing but silence inside the house. Pure and utter silence. All of her guards- Her brothers, that damned Potter, and the mudblood- were sound asleep, peacefully dreaming of the day that was to come. From his position in the bushes next to the house, if one could call it that, he could feel their sleep, their lazy sleep and their pathetic dreams.
There was a soft glow coming from the majority of the windows, coming from the dying embers of their fires. In the background, he could almost hear the approaching rain. The house itself was dimly visible in the light of the quarter moon.
Running across the grass to the front door quickly, silently, he pulled out his wand and whispered a spell softly. A spell to disarm any protection spell they had up. A spell to unlock the door. There was a soft glow emitted from the wand, and in that instant, he could make out his features in the glass of the door in front of him.
He looked the same as he had the last time any of them had seen him, but he was older, and had experienced much more. This could be seen in his eyes. His cold grey eyes that drew people in, and kept them there for as long as he so pleased. But he was still the same on the outside- He still had that distinctly handsome face, that perfect blond hair. His face, as usual, wore a smirk, this one of the determined sort.
The door bent to the will of the spell, and he turned the doorknob, opening it slowly, carefully, without a sound. The kitchen was glowing from the dying fire in the hearth on the wall next to him- He could make out a large table with ten chairs around it, though he knew that only nine were occupied now that the insufferable Percy had managed to find a wife.
Moving from the kitchen to the stairwell, from the glow to the darkness, he moved quietly and quickly. Nothing was going to stop him from what he had come for- Tom Riddle's Diary, the Time-Turner, and his Auraton.
The Auraton had been his fathers, and his grandfathers before that. It had been passed down to him for his seventeenth birthday, and had been forced to leave it behind in the Astronomy Tower when she had entered unexpectantly. She'd had it for at least a year now, and he wanted his things back. As for the Time-Turner she was using for school- It would be useful to him and his cause.
Getting bored with his little spy game, he apparated directly into her room. There were few things that brought him joy anymore- Breaking and entering was somehow one of them. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he was doing something illegal, something that could get him in trouble, that made it exciting. Made him feel almost alive.
He could feel the storm getting closer and closer as he whispered the Lumos spell and a light appeared at the end of his wand. Her room was much more elegant then he expected it to be. Instead of the cluttered, shabby room he had thought he would find, there was organization and style.
One wall was lined top to bottom with book shelves, much like his was. There were all sorts of books there- Books on Divination, Arithmancy, History, Dark Arts and the Defense against it. Every subject imaginable. She slept in a mahogany four poster bed and next to it was a hearth, with a fire that had died out only minutes before.
Now he could feel his objects, just as he felt his own heartbeat. They were his, and a part of him, and now he moved toward a nightstand next to her bed, where he could feel them pulsating, calling out to him.
Muttering the same spell he had used on the door, he opened the top drawer, pointing his wand light at it expectantly. But as he leaned down further to pull out what he knew was there, a shrill sound came from within, and he heard her sit up straight in bed, looking over at him as though she were still dreaming, dropping his wand to the floor. It cast a soft light on the room from it's position on the ground.
While he had not changed in physical appearance at all, she had. The thin shapeless body was now well curved. The unmanageable red hair was now a mass of fiery ringlets framing a perfect face. Sunburned and freckled skin was now spotless and beautifully pale. Green eyes, once lifeless and subdued, stared back into his own grey ones, full of question and fear and hope.
If she was surprised to see him in her room, she did not show it though. There were many things in her eyes, but surprise was not one of them. This surprised him, however.
"I wondered when you would come." She whispered, clutching her blanket to her chest, seeking to cover herself from his eyes.
"You were expecting me?" He replied, reaching down inside and snatching out the three objects without any further problems.
She nodded. "I Saw it."
He shook his head, turning to look at her. So she was a Seer, then? With luck, she was learning the arts of it from someone other than Trelawney. That woman couldn't teach a person to breathe.
"Did you." He said, and she looked down at her coverlet. " I had no idea that anyone in your family had any sort of skill whatsoever. Congratulations."
She stood up then, letting the coverlet fall. It was then that he saw why she wished to cover herself- She was dressed in a shift of a nightgown. A silvery green nightgown. It wasn't too revealing, but was tight enough that it left little to the imagination. Despite this, however, she stood in front of him, peering into his eyes.
"Did you come here to insult me then?"
He laughed a little. "No. I came for things worth much more than that."
She didn't say anything in return, just stood there, looking into his eyes without fear of him at all. This also surprised him. Was this the same child that had followed Potter around like a puppy? The same girl who had given in so easily to his Lord's wishes? The same girl who had cringed and hid from him and all like him?
They stood there for what seemed an eternity, sizing each other up, looking into each others eyes like it would reveal the others soul.
And then he did something he couldn't explain. Thirty years later, if he were to look back upon what he did then, he still would not know why he had done it. Perhaps it was the rain that was beginning to fall. Perhaps it was the look in her eyes. Perhaps it was his hidden loneliness. Perhaps he had meant to distract her and leave with the things he had come for.
No matter the reason, he closed the gap between them, which wasn't very large anyway, and put his hands in those fiery ringlets, and pulled her close to him, covering her lips with his own. And , again, to his surprise, she did not fight, only held him as close to her as he was holding her to him. The kiss deepened naturally for them both, and he felt her grip on him relax a little.
They sunk further and further into it, and the kiss became so much more than a physical touch, a physical joining of lips. They saw each other, truly saw each other, and sparked something inside of each other and themselves that was inextinguishable and unexplainable.
The connection was broken when there was a soft ping as something hit the bare wood floor. He pulled away, the noise bringing him back to what he thought, and hoped, were his senses.
"What was that?"
He looked at her, at the tear that was falling down her cheek, and then down at the floor, where there was a gold band with a diamond on it. A large diamond, even by his standards. And then he looked back at her, seeking an explanation she would not give, not yet.
"Take me with you." She whispered, the tear falling off her chin onto the nightgown, making a dark green stain at the top.
"What?"
"Take me with you." She repeated. "Before they make my future for me."
"What are you talking about? Have you gone mad?"
"I'm to be married tomorrow. I've been promised. Promised to a man I have never met."
He shook his head then. Who was foolish enough to form an alliance with the Weasley's through an arranged marriage? It certainly wouldn't be a pureblood family; No one was that desperate. A half blood, or mudblood family perhaps.
"Who?"
Another tear fell from the corner of her eye. "Egorn Krum."
He cursed under his breath. His family had never taken well to the Krum's. They were the sort that his people looked down upon- People with no grace, no sophistication, no pride. But the Krum's were thought to be allies with him and his people. And their allies had no business marrying into the enemy.
That did however explain the elegance of this room compared to the shabbyness of the rest of the Weasley home. The things in the room had been bought for her, in an attempt to buy her heart, with money that the Krum's had made through their business with him and his people. A connection that would end when he returned home and told his allies.
"Please. Take me to another life. Take me for a pirate's wife. Take me where the wind blows. Take me where the red wine flows. Take me to the danger. Take me to the life of crime. Take me to the stars. Take me to the moon, while we still have time." She took in a sharp breath. "Just….take me away from here."
He almost felt like laughing. What she was asking him was…ridiculous. What could he do with her? Marry her? He would admit that she was beautiful, but the entire thing was so….spontaneous. And what was to stop her family from coming after them, accusing him of abducting her. He wouldn't mind having an excuse to be rid of the Weasleys, but in the long run, it would do him more harm than good.
"You owe me."
It was then that he did laugh. "For what?"
"My things. You're taking them."
He shook his head. "These are mine. They belong with me. If anything, it is you who owes me."
"The Time-Turner." She pointed to the little hourglass in his hand. "That belongs to me. And you're taking it."
He would never be sure where his words came from, but he did not stop to think before speaking. He just let them flow, for they seemed to fit. "After the rain has fallen, and the tears have washed your eyes. You will find that I have taken nothing that love cannot replace in the blink of an eye."
She was quiet for the moment, thinking about what he said. In the light coming from his wand, she looked almost ethereal. "So you won't take me with you then?"
"I may." He replied. "I may not."
"What do you mean?"
"I will come for you at dawn, if I am so inclined to do so."
"Oh, please. Just take me with you." Tears were falling from her cheeks like rain now. "I can be useful. I am well read, and taught. I can clean. I know how to cook. I-"
He brought his hand up to wipe away the tears that were staining her face. "Wait for dawn. This must be thought through."
"Why?" She sounded almost like a child now, her voice desperate and begging.
"We are two different people. Do you know who your father is? Who my father was? And who I am to become? Do you know what you would become if you came with me? Do you know what would happen to me, and my life? Did you even consider that?'
"But-"
He cut her off before she could answer him. "This is not something to be taken lightly! You ask a great thing of me. I can't be expected to be your knight without first knowing that I would need to polish my armor so it shines."
Her face still uncertain, she reached out and touched him, and he could almost feel the pull as she used her skill on him.
As quickly as he felt it, it was over. She laughed a little then, sniffling. Her tears slowed and ceased, as one last defiant tear ran down her cheek. "Dawn? Is that enough time to polish your armor?"
He knew that she had Seen something, he had felt it being sought out and taken from his subconscious. But whatever it was, she was masking it well. There was nothing in her eyes- They were simply green, and nothing more. And while he wanted to know what she had extracted from him, he let it go.
"I should think so."
Without another word, he left her there, his wand still on the ground, casting shadows and light around the room.
He reappeared outside of the Hogs Head, the objects still griped tight in his hand. These he deposited in a deep pocket of his robe before kicking the first thing available- A wooden bench in front of the bar. What was he to do?
It seemed so simple, so easy, to just leave her there. She was Arthur Weasley's daughter, and Arthur Weasley and his allies were the enemies of his kind, which made her his enemy in every technical sense.
But inside, with that hidden loneliness, was a part of him that knew she was better than some arranged marriage for more power. That she was better than Egorn Krum, the worthless backstabbing bastards that he and his family were.
The rain was falling steadily there, and he let it soak through his robes and the clothes beneath it, let it soak him to the bone, hoping against hope that it would shock and chill him back into
reality, or at least to some sort of a decision.
But all it did was drench him and make him shiver. Hugging his wet robe to his body, he entered Hogs Head, not surprised at all to find it nearly empty, with the only exceptions being a group of drunken rowdy goblins in a booth at the corner, and Hagrid, passed out, with his head on the bar top.
He sat a good distance from the unconscious half-giant. Just what he didn't need. A drunken enemy trying to sit on him as though that would squash the Death Eaters as a whole.
Madam Rosmerta smiled at him weakly from where she was adding up the goblin's tab as he sat down at the bar, holding up one slender finger to let him know she would be with him soon.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the objects and lined them up, one by one. The dairy, the Auraton, and the Time-Turner.
The diary was small, thin, and a shabby, worn color of black. It was blank inside, save for the letters T.M Riddle written perfectly on the first page. The back cover was blank as well, with the words Martha's Gift Shop, Vauxhall Road, London, written in gold lettering. But as simple as the diary seemed, it was indeed very powerful, and very magical.
Next was the Auraton. This was as far from simple as possible. The Auraton was actually a special stone, a stone found only deep down in the depths of the earth in Nubia. There were only two such stones, as it was nearly impossible to get down far enough to retrieve the stone and survive. Many attempts had been made, of course, but only two had succeeded.
One Auraton belonged to the Malfoys, and the other had belonged to the Potter's, though it was anyone's guess where the stone was now.
The Malfoy stone was at least double the size of the Potter stone, and was set as a necklace. The stone itself was at the moment a pearly gray color; It hadn't been used in a year. But when in use, it shone different colors, to signify the mood and general aura of whomever you focused it's power on.
Finally, there was the Time-Turner. This was simple as well. It was a tiny hourglass, filled with red swirling whisps of smoke, and was attached to a fine silver chain that was long enough that a person could simply slip the entire necklace over their neck. But once they put it on, he noted as he inspected the chain, it was spelled so that only they could take it off again.
He was distracted from his inspections by the sound of heels clicking against the floor. Looking up, he found what he expected- Madam Rosmerta was making her way over to him. Sweeping the objects back into his pocket, he watched her come closer and closer, finally coming to a stop in front of him.
"What can I get you?" She said in a honeyed voice that made him sick.
"The strongest shot you've got." He replied, without haste. Anything to clear his mind.
The glass she set in front of him was normal enough- A regular sized shot glass. But the liquid she poured into it made him a bit nervous. It was purple, but had a green gleam to it, and was sizzling and smoking, and seemed to be eating through the glass.
"What is-"
She cut him off. "Drink up. Quick."
He didn't give his health another thought as he lifted the disintegrating glass to his lips, and tilted both glass and head back, pouring the liquid down his throat. It burned as it went down, like it was acid eating away his insides, but once it was down, he felt so much lighter. Like he could take on the world. He slammed the glass onto the bar, and Madam Rosmerta smiled again.
"Another."
He barely managed to speak as she poured more of the volatile liquid into the thinned glass. This time he didn't hesitate at all, just emptied it into his mouth and slammed the glass on the counter.
This time it was so thin it shatter with a loud noise, and he heard Rosmerta shriek, and he felt a large bit of glass go into his soft flesh, but what did he care?
Rosmerta, a woman who cared more about the blood that was getting on her counter then his cut, regained her wits and pulled the glass out, lest she be brought before wizards council, and handed him a rag with which to clean up the blood.
"How much?" He asked, motioning toward the broken glass and the bottle of alcohol, which was made of steel or some other metal that could withstand its contents.
"On the house." She replied, smiling nervously at him.
And so he left, not caring to have a drunken quarrel with anything or anyone, and wandered out into the streets of Hogsmeade.
And so he wandered about for an amount of time that he would never really recall, thinking out loud and kicking things, and clutching the blood soaked rag to his hand.
And the more he thought about it, the more he thought about her, the more he was convinced that she had to be saved from her family. They were going to extinguish a flame that should be allowed to burn freely and as much as it wanted to. They were going to extinguish it and send her off to be the wife of a man he would rather see dead then see him touching her, kissing her, be he "ally" or not.
So when he turned around, the fog of the alcohol in his mind clearing a bit, and saw the first rays of light of dawn turning the sky a pale lavender, he made up his mind.
He apparated back to her.
And she was there waiting, her things packed, and his wand in her hand. The rain was no longer falling, piddle-paddling against the roof, and she was respectfully dressed now in robes of black and a green dress beneath it.
"How did you know? To pack?" He asked. "How did you know I would be back?"
"I Saw it. And…."
"And?"
"Your wand was here."
"And?"
"The rain has fallen."
He nodded. For indeed, the rain had fallen. And after the rain had fallen, after the tears had washed her eyes, they had found that no one had taken anything that love didn't replace in the blink of their eyes at that moment.
And after the thunder had spoken, and the lightening bolt had been hurled and after the dreams of many had been broke, there was still love for them in the world.