Through the Cracks: Part 3
Chapter 3
A/N: FF.Net was being mean to me, and wouldn't let me correct this last bit of the previous chapter... and thanks to everyone who reviewed!
Disclaimer: Once again, not mine. No mops. Or brooms.
*** Ginny surveyed herself once more, trying to fix her hair. She didn't notice the shadow just outside the window, watching her through the frosted glass.
---
A young man with flaxen hair had ventured through the light snowfall, setting out for the Three Broomsticks when something had caught his eye. He shivered as he walked towards Gladrags, peering through the clouded storefront. He wiped a spot clean on the glass and peered in. He saw a girl about his age trying on a gown. More importantly, his eyes were fixed on the silver locket around her neck. Seeing the necklace stirred something inside of him. He looked away for a moment, but found it hard to avert his attention. He recognized the girl. Her lithe build and long scarlet curls gave her away. It was Ginny Weasley.
He quickly withdrew from the open walk in front of the store as he noticed she was about to exit with another familiar face. Hermione Granger. Draco hurriedly turned into the alleyway between Gladrags and the Solaris Astronomy Offices. He was flushed and slightly perturbed as he nearly ran through the alley towards the Three Broomsticks. He ducked into the building out of breath. The warmth of the fire didn't quite reach him as he took a seat at the bar.
***
Once she had paid for her new gown, Ginny pulled her school robes back on over her jeans and sweater. She and Hermione knew it was getting late; Harry and Ron were probably already waiting for them. Careful not to slip on the frozen ground, the girls made their way towards the Three Broomsticks.
---
Draco ordered a drink. Madam Rosmerta slid a mug of butterbeer down the bar, peering at Draco with a worried look. He was hunched over the bar with his head in his hands.
"Why the long face there, love?" Draco appreciated her concern, but had no intention of even beginning to explain.
"It's nothing really."
"Is it girl trouble? Of course, I wouldn't expect you to have any trouble with the ladies, with your being such a fine-looking young man." She gave him a peculiar, yet still pleasant look. "Or is it guy trouble?" Draco was horrified. He nearly jumped out of his skin.
"NO! No! Not guy or girl trouble. No trouble. Really. It's okay. Thanks for the drink."
His voice was rough and his throat was beginning to ache. Shaking his head, he took a sip of the warm beer. Almost instantly, the heat spread through his throat, placating the sting. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a handful of gold and a navy hair ribbon. Madame Rosmerta looked slightly taken aback as she retrieved the gold and moved down to the opposite end of the bar, taking the order of an older gentleman.
He stared at the smooth satin fabric of the ribbon; how it reflected the dim light and seemed to glow. He ran his index finger along the shape, and then placed it back into his pocket. Once more, he rested his head into his hands, elbows propped up on the hard wood counter.
Seeing Ginny Weasley wearing that necklace chilled him to the bone. He had seen it somewhere before, hanging in the air. Then he remembered. It had once been his mother's necklace. She had told him about it years ago; how it had once belonged to her mother. She also had shown him the two black and white photographs that moved inside the locket, of her mother and herself. The pictures portrayed the two women with fair hair and light eyes, grinning timidly at the camera. The last time he had seen the necklace was the night his mother died.
~~ She had called him to her room, which had been furnished in dark ebony furniture and jade green tapestries. She beckoned her son to sit beside her on her bed. Pushing aside her long white blonde hair, she reached around her neck, and presented him with the silver locket.
"Draco, I want you to keep this with you always." She pressed it into his hand. "That way, I'll always be with you, no matter what." Her hand closed around his, and she brushed the tears from his bright silver eyes. She smoothed his hair and had smiled faintly.
Then his father had walked into the room, as usual quite formidable in his flowing black robes and ever present scowl. He peered at them, grimacing at his wife's compassion, and his son's tears. He saw it as their greatest weakness, far more detrimental than her unavoidable passing away.
"Draco. Go." His father had sternly commanded him to leave. He hadn't wanted to, he would have never left his mother. Lucius jerked his son away from Narcissa, his hands bruising the small boy. He tore the locket from his son's small hands. "Give me that," he growled. "Now, Draco." Lucius had spit out Draco's name as if it were a disgusting word.
He had cried out in pain as his father pushed him out into the dark corridor. Left alone, he had sunk to the stone floor, knowing not whether to cry out or run away. ~~
He never saw his mother after that, his only memory of the necklace had been faint, yet he was sure that it was the very same he had seen earlier that night.
Draco snapped out of his reverie as the door to the Three Broomsticks opened. The echo of the bell tinkled softly through the tavern. He looked up at the four snow-laden figures and immediately recognized them.
Ron and Hermione were smiling at each other as she caught him off guard and hit him with her book again. They picked a booth and settled in. Shortly after them, Potter and Ginny slid in on the opposite side. Draco grimaced at the sight of Potter, and turned back to his butterbeer, mulling over his thoughts.
---
Ginny's face was flushed red and she was quite breathless as the group stumbled into the booth. Hermione was brushing snow off of Ron's nose and Harry was defrosting his glasses.
He shook his head, "You know, Gin, you really do have good aim. Ever consider being a Chaser?" He put his glasses back on, and his green eyes sparkled.
"And you would have me throw snowballs at the goalposts, wouldn't you?"
"If it got the job done. And I believe it would," he stopped to rub his jaw that appeared to be quite red. "As the temperature and speed of impact would knock them right off their brooms."
Madame Rosmerta dropped them a round of piping hot butterbeer to warm them up. They all drank deeply, concentrating on pulling all of the drink's warmth into their bodies.
"So what are you two going to do for dancing partners at the Ball tomorrow night?" Ron raised an eyebrow. Everyone knew about Ginny's infatuation for Harry; this fact alone made Ginny blush a brilliant red color.
Harry shrugged pleasantly. "I really don't know yet, but right now I'm just set on holding off the mobs. Lately they've been layering on so much perfume, I think I'm about to suffocate every time I'm in their vicinity." He looked kind of distraught about the whole thing, but still in good- humor.
Ginny noticed Hermione was making a pointed head motion towards Harry. Ginny tossed her hair, trying to avoid eye contact as Hermione had no subtlety in this matter, and Ron was now staring at her curiously.
"What about you, Ginny? Are you going with anyone special?" Her brother always seemed to delight in watching her fidget in embarrassment.
She cleared her throat. She heard the entrance doorbell ring as someone exited the tavern. "Actually, I don't have a date yet. And unlike Harry, I don't have to avoid perfumed mobs."
"Oh C'mon Ginny, you must have guys lined up around the block to ask you to the Ball." Harry's hair was sticking up again, making Ginny want to reach out and fix it.
Turning the color of a ripe raspberry, she shook her head and mumbled a barely inaudible response. "Not really." She turned away from his gaze, staring out the window. She found another pair of eyes staring back from the street corner.
Chapter 3
A/N: FF.Net was being mean to me, and wouldn't let me correct this last bit of the previous chapter... and thanks to everyone who reviewed!
Disclaimer: Once again, not mine. No mops. Or brooms.
*** Ginny surveyed herself once more, trying to fix her hair. She didn't notice the shadow just outside the window, watching her through the frosted glass.
---
A young man with flaxen hair had ventured through the light snowfall, setting out for the Three Broomsticks when something had caught his eye. He shivered as he walked towards Gladrags, peering through the clouded storefront. He wiped a spot clean on the glass and peered in. He saw a girl about his age trying on a gown. More importantly, his eyes were fixed on the silver locket around her neck. Seeing the necklace stirred something inside of him. He looked away for a moment, but found it hard to avert his attention. He recognized the girl. Her lithe build and long scarlet curls gave her away. It was Ginny Weasley.
He quickly withdrew from the open walk in front of the store as he noticed she was about to exit with another familiar face. Hermione Granger. Draco hurriedly turned into the alleyway between Gladrags and the Solaris Astronomy Offices. He was flushed and slightly perturbed as he nearly ran through the alley towards the Three Broomsticks. He ducked into the building out of breath. The warmth of the fire didn't quite reach him as he took a seat at the bar.
***
Once she had paid for her new gown, Ginny pulled her school robes back on over her jeans and sweater. She and Hermione knew it was getting late; Harry and Ron were probably already waiting for them. Careful not to slip on the frozen ground, the girls made their way towards the Three Broomsticks.
---
Draco ordered a drink. Madam Rosmerta slid a mug of butterbeer down the bar, peering at Draco with a worried look. He was hunched over the bar with his head in his hands.
"Why the long face there, love?" Draco appreciated her concern, but had no intention of even beginning to explain.
"It's nothing really."
"Is it girl trouble? Of course, I wouldn't expect you to have any trouble with the ladies, with your being such a fine-looking young man." She gave him a peculiar, yet still pleasant look. "Or is it guy trouble?" Draco was horrified. He nearly jumped out of his skin.
"NO! No! Not guy or girl trouble. No trouble. Really. It's okay. Thanks for the drink."
His voice was rough and his throat was beginning to ache. Shaking his head, he took a sip of the warm beer. Almost instantly, the heat spread through his throat, placating the sting. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a handful of gold and a navy hair ribbon. Madame Rosmerta looked slightly taken aback as she retrieved the gold and moved down to the opposite end of the bar, taking the order of an older gentleman.
He stared at the smooth satin fabric of the ribbon; how it reflected the dim light and seemed to glow. He ran his index finger along the shape, and then placed it back into his pocket. Once more, he rested his head into his hands, elbows propped up on the hard wood counter.
Seeing Ginny Weasley wearing that necklace chilled him to the bone. He had seen it somewhere before, hanging in the air. Then he remembered. It had once been his mother's necklace. She had told him about it years ago; how it had once belonged to her mother. She also had shown him the two black and white photographs that moved inside the locket, of her mother and herself. The pictures portrayed the two women with fair hair and light eyes, grinning timidly at the camera. The last time he had seen the necklace was the night his mother died.
~~ She had called him to her room, which had been furnished in dark ebony furniture and jade green tapestries. She beckoned her son to sit beside her on her bed. Pushing aside her long white blonde hair, she reached around her neck, and presented him with the silver locket.
"Draco, I want you to keep this with you always." She pressed it into his hand. "That way, I'll always be with you, no matter what." Her hand closed around his, and she brushed the tears from his bright silver eyes. She smoothed his hair and had smiled faintly.
Then his father had walked into the room, as usual quite formidable in his flowing black robes and ever present scowl. He peered at them, grimacing at his wife's compassion, and his son's tears. He saw it as their greatest weakness, far more detrimental than her unavoidable passing away.
"Draco. Go." His father had sternly commanded him to leave. He hadn't wanted to, he would have never left his mother. Lucius jerked his son away from Narcissa, his hands bruising the small boy. He tore the locket from his son's small hands. "Give me that," he growled. "Now, Draco." Lucius had spit out Draco's name as if it were a disgusting word.
He had cried out in pain as his father pushed him out into the dark corridor. Left alone, he had sunk to the stone floor, knowing not whether to cry out or run away. ~~
He never saw his mother after that, his only memory of the necklace had been faint, yet he was sure that it was the very same he had seen earlier that night.
Draco snapped out of his reverie as the door to the Three Broomsticks opened. The echo of the bell tinkled softly through the tavern. He looked up at the four snow-laden figures and immediately recognized them.
Ron and Hermione were smiling at each other as she caught him off guard and hit him with her book again. They picked a booth and settled in. Shortly after them, Potter and Ginny slid in on the opposite side. Draco grimaced at the sight of Potter, and turned back to his butterbeer, mulling over his thoughts.
---
Ginny's face was flushed red and she was quite breathless as the group stumbled into the booth. Hermione was brushing snow off of Ron's nose and Harry was defrosting his glasses.
He shook his head, "You know, Gin, you really do have good aim. Ever consider being a Chaser?" He put his glasses back on, and his green eyes sparkled.
"And you would have me throw snowballs at the goalposts, wouldn't you?"
"If it got the job done. And I believe it would," he stopped to rub his jaw that appeared to be quite red. "As the temperature and speed of impact would knock them right off their brooms."
Madame Rosmerta dropped them a round of piping hot butterbeer to warm them up. They all drank deeply, concentrating on pulling all of the drink's warmth into their bodies.
"So what are you two going to do for dancing partners at the Ball tomorrow night?" Ron raised an eyebrow. Everyone knew about Ginny's infatuation for Harry; this fact alone made Ginny blush a brilliant red color.
Harry shrugged pleasantly. "I really don't know yet, but right now I'm just set on holding off the mobs. Lately they've been layering on so much perfume, I think I'm about to suffocate every time I'm in their vicinity." He looked kind of distraught about the whole thing, but still in good- humor.
Ginny noticed Hermione was making a pointed head motion towards Harry. Ginny tossed her hair, trying to avoid eye contact as Hermione had no subtlety in this matter, and Ron was now staring at her curiously.
"What about you, Ginny? Are you going with anyone special?" Her brother always seemed to delight in watching her fidget in embarrassment.
She cleared her throat. She heard the entrance doorbell ring as someone exited the tavern. "Actually, I don't have a date yet. And unlike Harry, I don't have to avoid perfumed mobs."
"Oh C'mon Ginny, you must have guys lined up around the block to ask you to the Ball." Harry's hair was sticking up again, making Ginny want to reach out and fix it.
Turning the color of a ripe raspberry, she shook her head and mumbled a barely inaudible response. "Not really." She turned away from his gaze, staring out the window. She found another pair of eyes staring back from the street corner.