by Faith Accompli.
Not my usual pace, I know. It just happened. As some stories do.
It wasn't her idea.
Not to begin with, no. She hadn't wanted to do it. She had cried. She had screamed. She had sobbed her heart out on the cool stone floor, and he had crushed it with one casual word, with a simple look.
But then--then she had become reconciled to the idea. He had picked up the pieces for her, mended them for her, twisted and warped them until she was a mere echo of her former self. No one had any idea, of course. She was a consummate actress, she had to be with the family she had.
She was more than she had been, his presence in her life had changed her. His lessons, the words he had whispered in her mind, his phantom touch, all had made her something more than she once was. His aspirations, his plans and hopes and dreams had fallen to her, she had...after time, she had accepted that her lot in life was to blur with his and emerge stronger, to finish what he started. He had lost out, fallen at the hands of the greatest menace to her society, and it was her task to end it.
She was close to the enemy, so very close. Her earliest years of school had seen to that, and she knew him as well as she knew herself, knew his weaknesses. Knew his inner thoughts.
"Draco," she murmured under her breath as he walked towards her. She knew he was there, despite his silent footsteps, despite that the door had made no sound when he opened and closed it.
He closed the distance between them quickly, not coming close enough to touch her, but enough to stand at her side, one hand resting on the stone parapet as he gazed down on Hogwarts. It was winter, Christmas, and the school entire was remaining for Dumbledore's celebratory Yule Ball. It was the perfect time for her/their plans to go into effect, she could gain control and no one would be the wiser for it until the very last minute, until it was too late. Really, this was the last year she could do it, and now everything was in place. She had the support she desired, she had the time to indulge herself in the tiny flair of showmanship that he would have wanted.
It was strange, really. Poor little Ginny, no one would ever suspect poor little Ginny, she was so stupid. Used over and over again by both the dark side and the light, Voldemort's head, Potter's bed, no adult ever thought that she might care to choose her own side.
"Are you sure?" Draco's words fell as light as the snow drifting to land on the stone beneath their feet. He was more naive than she had expected. Sheltered. He wasn't as deep in the mess as she would have thought, his parents were careful to keep him out of the game until he left Dumbledore's tutelage. "Is tonight the night?"
She turned to face him, her head tilted up ever so slightly, not enough to let him believe she looked up to him for any reason save that of his height being greater than her own, even in the heels she wore that gave her another four inches easily. "Why wouldn't it be?"
He sunk to one knee deferentially, bowing his head a moment. "My apologies. I wouldn't question..."
"No. You wouldn't," she gestured peremptorily for him to rise, allowing him to kiss her hand as he did so. She pulled the white lace wrap more snugly about herself, glancing down at her robes to ensure that they weren't out of place by even the most minute fraction. White, as white as her skin, the only colour to her that of her hair like dark fire and her eyes a dark blue that she'd not been born with, the only external mark of her first tainting. She tucked one hand into his offered arm--as Draco was unavailable to escort Pansy, the Slytherin girl had made the best of it and invited Padma Patil as her date--and turned to begin the walk down from the Astronomy tower.
"Queen of Winter," Draco mused softly, his free hand slipping into his pocket to ensure his wand hadn't misplaced itself in the few minutes since he had last checked.
Ginny inclined her head ever so slightly, ice burning in her veins as she stepped closer to destiny, to the end of all who opposed her will and the will of her departed lord. Now would be the final reckoning, and she would succeed where he had failed once, twice, thrice. Every person who stood on the side of light would be dead before midnight, and she would rule, she would reshape society as her lord had desired. Harry Potter would, of course, be the first to die. "Throned."