Chapter 9: Ironic
She writhes, kicking the blankets from her legs. Her eyes are clenched shut, blood on her lip. She is biting down to keep from screaming.
It is dark, so dark. She is searching for an opening, a beam of light in this oblivion. But there is none. His voice taunts her, his strong arms holding her firmly in place. It will all be over soon, he promises. Don't you want to be with me, Ginny? This is the only way. Her strength is fading. With the last of her voice, she cries out . . .
"NO! I don't want to go . . . No . . ." Her eyes shoot open. The room is dark. Panic grips her, but then she becomes aware of a hand resting on her shoulder. She moves closer to the warmth of the other body. It is a welcome change from the cold chamber.
He holds her close to him. He can feel hot tears soaking his shirt. Her skin is ice cold and she is shivering. She closes her eyes as she leans into him. If anyone had told me a week ago that tonight I'd be in a bed with Ginny Weasley, I would have laughed in their face, he thought. And now I don't want to be anywhere else. Ironic, isn't it. Soon exhaustion settles over him and he gives in. He falls asleep with his arms still wrapped protectively around her.
*
"Damn it!" he throws the heavy, leather bound book aside. It was of no use to him, just like all the others. He glances down at the large pile of old and worn books standing high beside the table. He thinks of her, her dark eyes shimmering with tears. She feels responsible for what was happening. She thinks she is evil. He has to find this cure. For her. He almost laughes out loud as he realizes that, for possibly the first time in his life, he is working for someone else's happiness. Not just anyone. A Weasley. He sighs and opens the next book. He rubs his temples to fight off the beginning of a headache. Just one more book. Then I'll go back.
*
She sits alone in the astronomy tower, looking out at the stars. She sighs and rubs her arms in an attempt to keep warm. Draco is in the library, as he has been all day. Searching for the antidote. She had skipped lunch, as she didn't like the idea of sitting that close to Harry without Draco nearby. She pulls her knees close to her body and closes her eyes, enjoying the feeling of the soft breeze on her skin.
She nearly jumps when she hears the faint sound of approaching footsteps. Maybe it's Draco, she thinks hopefully. But the next sound extinguishes that optimism. It's humming. Draco does not hum. The low, soft sound is coming closer. Ok, calm down. It could be anyone. Stop panicking. The footsteps stop in front of the door. After a moment, the door is pushed open. Her eyes widen as the figure steps into the small room with her.