The Blood of A Virgin
----------------------------
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just the plot.
Summary: Draco has a hidden childhood obsession. It has taken control of his mind; and has lead him to emphasize a Gryffindor as a victim. But what happens when the victim tries to change him?
***
"To - to read minds?" Draco sputtered, completely perplexed and surprised at this statement. She hung her head, sighing, her tendrils pouring over her face like manes of auburn. She looked up once more, her brown eyes boring into his, and with a slight shrug of her shoulders she wrung her wrists painfully, nervousness flashing through her eyes.
"Yes...it's something I can do," Ginny notified him hesitantly.
"Since when?"
The question caught her by surprise. She seemed at awe that she didn't answer for several moments as the question echoed around them. "Well..." she shifted uncomfortably. "Since I was twelve. That summer...I...it was such a hot summer, don't you remember? When you walked outside you immediately began to sweat. But then that one day, it rained. It's never rained like that before. Like..." Ginny gestured with her hand in the air, unable to describe it. Like a million mingling colors mixed together in the clouds, spraying across the sky in gray smoke while droplets from heaven sprinkled over her face.
He fixated his gaze on her, his bottom lip trembling with immense unease. "Yes," he retorted promptly. "Of course. The first day in the summer that it rained. Of course," he murmured, staring at her calculatingly through his half-closed lids.
"Yes...so you do remember," Ginny replied, giving him a strange look. "What? What is it?"
"Nothing," he answered quickly, his bewildered expression quickly vanishing into his pale, delicate features. "Go ahead."
"Well...I had this vision. And then when I came back, I could read ...actually it's not that powerful, sometimes the voices are faded - the only thoughts I can hear are one of the thoughts at that precise moment, or the most important thought or something..."
"Me too."
She looked up, her eyes searching his face for answers. "What?"
"It was a chamber," Draco told her, pushing a strand of his hair away from his forehead. "A chamber. She was lying there, limb and lifeless," he continued in a dead-prone voice that slowly became fatal in the process of speaking. "There was blood on her front. Her eyes were closed. I couldn't wake her up, and ..."
He paused, motioning in the air. He had to end his story right there.
There was no point in bringing up his 'power' as well.
"Chamber?" she breathed. "And...can you describe the girl?"
"I didn't see her very well, Weasley," he said snappishly, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I was more attracted to the fact that I felt as if my body was breaking when it happened."
"Chamber. The Chamber of Secrets, in my past," Ginny whispered.
He gave her a plausible look. "No...,no, it couldn't have been...I can't see the past or the future. I am not a Seer."
"Malfoy. Don't you think it's a bit ironic that at the same day, we both got visions? The same day that it rained...in summer? It had to be the birth of stronger powers. I mean, when I was eight, I had dreams and visions as well, but never predictions or reading minds."
"Look, Weasley, I don't like talking about that day, alright?"
"Why not?" she asked curiously.
"None of your business. I have to go," Draco replied hastily, his features hardening slightly.
"Oh, so this is our new schedule, is it? First we get mad at each other, then we kiss each other, then you take off again like nothing's happened," Ginny said, flushing angrily.
"Seems like a great schedule to me," he sneered, turning away from her and proceeding to walk away.
"Hey! You dragged me in here, you know!"
He kept on walking, but just as he reached the door, he paused.
"Well, aren't you going, Draco - oh sorry, I forgot we're not on first-name basis..."
Draco didn't seem to answer. He was paralyzed, amidst at something she could not see herself.
"Draco!" Ginny shrieked.
His shoulders stiffened, his legs stumbling against each other. "Cassandra," he whispered, his eyes closed, envisioning something he couldn't see in this very room, his tone silky and soft, both hushed and sharp. "Will arrive."
***
The next morning was dull and weary. Ginny got up in the morning, forcing herself not to think about Draco, or Malfoy, whatever the hell he wanted her to call him, and dressed properly in her robes, dazed throughout classes. When Transfiguration time came, she was dreading it. To her shock, however, Draco was not there, and was not there for the whole class, in fact, and Ginny settled for sitting behind Harry in class, bored out of her mind, not paying attention. Her lack of concentration in class led her to stay for a few moments after the bell rang, until Harry waved his hand over her face, and she got up, blushing furiously.
When lunch time arrived, Ginny was grateful to go down to the Great Hall and relax, but unfortunately, Harry grabbed her arm while she was heading downstairs.
"What?" she snapped.
"I wanted to talk to you. Outside," he motioned, waving his hand dismissively.
She sighed in defeat. "Oh, alright."
The grounds were beaming with sunlight, grazing with cool wind that brushed against their faces. Ginny settled cross-legged on the ground, turning her face upwards, enjoying the tingling sensation that the breeze provided her. Harry stood, pacing around her, shifting uncomfortably for several moments before she spoke.
"What is it?" she demanded. "Why are you ...acting this way?" she finished, gesturing notionally in the air.
"Nothing," Harry answered. "I just wanted to ask you if you went to Dumbledore yet. I wanted to wait for you in the common room in the morning, but Ron and Hermione would get suspicious, so I decided until later to ask. I didn't want to get them worried; I mean, half my fate is often based on dreams," he added, half-jokingly, but with a serious glint flashing through his eyes.
"Oh," Ginny replied, wrinkling her nose. "I am sorry, I forgot about Dumbledore. But..."
"But?" Harry asked curiously, raising an eyebrow.
"I had another dream," she whispered tentatively. He fixated his gaze on her for several moments before speaking.
"I had a dream too," Harry said softly.
"You did?"
Harry nodded, running a hand reluctantly through his raven-colored locks. His mouth seemed to be parted but no words were of yet willing to come out. Pacing around her in a circular motion once more, he took the edge of his thumb and placed it on her chin, tapping it thoughtfully.
"I was kissing you. And then you asked me a question. And I said yes..." Harry started to say.
"What question?" Ginny asked, her eyes closed, her breath growing heavier as he leaned forward.
"If I loved you." Ginny gasped at his voice, but it was soon muffled as his lips touched hers once more. For various moments all thoughts went out of her mind as she drowned into his kiss, clutching his shoulders, her fingers around his robes. All control was flown away as he leaned forward, their bodies plastered together, his beads of sweat pouring against her own. And then, the kiss drifted it away as he released her, his hands slowly drawing away from the cling of her robes.
"And...?" Ginny ensued, waving her hand dismissively, but the red in her cheeks proved she was still flustered.
"Then...I became..." he trailed off, glancing at her expectantly until her face became light with realization. "Well, you know. Voldemort."
"Oh, oh..."
"And this mistress girl, her name was Minersa...she was a Veela, I think...I didn't notice. Anyways, he asked her if she did his bidding. She said no...and he ...he did something, stupefied her or something else, and she just fell on the floor...there was also something about Nagini...and then I woke up."
"With your scar burning?"
He nodded, then hesitantly, he leaned over. "And something else." Looking around nervously, he saw that students were out of sight, and pulled up the sleeve of his robe and shirt beneath it to reveal the glowering Dark Mark that was engraved upon his arm.
***
Ginny backed away swiftly, looking at it, an impression of repulsion over her face. "Put it away!" she hissed violently, looking around frantically before turning to him pointedly. All blood seemed to be drained out of her usually freckled face. Now her skin was colorless like pale white, her knees were threatening to buckle underneath her. The shining Dark Mark had caused her such an unsteady reaction that she was sure she would fall any moment now. The shock, the disbelief and the horror that filled her. For an instant she almost believed the Mark was there voluntarily, and that Harry had chosen a path none too light.
Harry obeyed, tugging the sleeve downwards.
Her breathing became hitched as she took sharp breaths to calm herself. "Where - where did - where - I - oh God, oh God," she whimpered, wringing her wrists in her hands nervously.
"After my first dream...I woke up with blood all over me...but Dumbledore said it's not just the Dark Mark, it's the first draft of the Dark Mark..." he notified her with a stern voice.
"But how could that happen? It may have been a realistic dream, but it wasn't...real," Ginny finished lamely.
"I don't know, Ginny. It's obvious Voldemort can't get into the school, and I doubt there's a follower of his here..."
"Harry."
"Yeah?"
"Nagini."
"What?" Harry looked thoroughly confused.
"Look, I know this is the kind of thing Hermione usually explains, but you'll just have to settle for me. Nagini...he's a snake, right?"
"Right..."
"Well...do you know what kind of a snake he is, exactly?" she asked, looking at him frightfully.
"How would I know that?"
"Nagini might be one of those poisonous snakes...he could have the - the tongue," she whispered.
"The tongue?"
"Don't you ever pay attention in class?"
"No."
"Nagini might be a Swollener. They're very rare, only powerful wizards like Salazar or Voldemort could own them...with just their tongues, they can carve something, burn something into human skin, any soft surfaces..."
"Are you saying..."
"Nagini is the one that gave you the Dark Mark."
***
It was a week later that Draco had the dream. After skipping all Transfiguration classes in all ways possible, he sent word to Professor McGonagall he was sick, and would be back. She seemed highly doubtful of this, but it was all he could do to avoid Ginny. He thought he could put everything behind him, get through his N.E.W.T.S. and remaining months of school (for he was highly ambitious of the upcoming March in two more days) and thought he had thrown his troubles away. Sadly, he was terribly wrong. That night, he fell asleep very quickly, and his world emitting into darkness.
He was going through many passages. Until he found the right one. His father stood in front of him, handing him his wand. "You'll be needing this," his father warned him stonily. Draco moved into the hollow cells, his heart racing against his ribcage. He remembered this greatly. He had been here before - it was the place Voldemort had taken refuge to. His heart pacing against his chest, he drew near to the familiar directions and stopped in front of the door, that was guarded by a strict-looking man who wore his Dark Mark proudly on his bare arm. His knees were skinned, and he was merely wearing short, thin robes, his head full of scars.
He automatically gave Draco a vial full of the strongest truth potion. Draco drank it, feeling dizzy.
"What is your nature?"
"I am Lucius Malfoy's son," Draco said curtly.
"What is your nature?" the man repeated, not looking at him.
"To receive the Dark Mark and become one of the inner circle."
"Your father is in Azkaban, is he not?"
"He broke out. Two months ago."
"How old are you?"
"Sixteen."
"What is the password your father provided for you?"
"Thomas Marvalo Riddle."
"What is your full name?"
"Draco Malfoy."
"Enter."
With a swift push, the door was open, releasing a fume of black smoke that wavered throughout the air and hovered amongst the very room. Draco held back coughs as he entered.
"Ah, Draco."
Draco did not respond quickly enough, he merely recoiled from the hideous man in front of him. He could smell the man, he had such a foul smell, it smelled just like sin, just like evil. Draco could almost feel the stench coming from him, the piercing red eyes were now drilling a hole into his back, causing him such an intensifying motion that he almost passed out from the smell of the room, the smell of him, and the sight.
"Do you fear the face of your master?"
Draco held back a sigh, bowing as his father had told him to do, and hanging his head shamelessly. "No, my Lord."
"We have already been through the obstacles, Draco. You are well fit to become a Death Eater. Sit," he commanded, pointing to a chair. Draco obeyed without complaint, sitting, his legs and arms straight, holding up a good posture.
Voldemort gave a mirthless laugh. "Oh, no need to remind me how well behaved you are, Draco. Because as this happens, you'll be screaming for your life," he finished ruthlessly.
"Close your eyes."
He did it. He was a slave, a servant, anything that obeyed the Dark Lord.
He heard a hissing sound near him; some sort of saliva was going over his bare arm. He clenched his fists in fury as the pain began to come through him. The stinging, burning pain that felt as if a knife was carving into his skin. He only wanted it to be over...he could feel dripping blood all the way from his arm and into his fingertips...
Draco Malfoy opened his eyes, crying out loud as he looked around him frantically. Recalling the horrible day - the day that his sixteenth birthday had come, the day he had the Dark Mark carved over his arm, and had to suffer through the pains all year. And now he was seventeen - and yet he couldn't get using to the pain that was now electrifying him in every way possible. He pulled up his sleeve, and saw that his Dark Mark was glowing terribly.
A sudden vision came to his mind, and it felt as if something hard had struck him in his chest, for the images that flashed through his mind was of Ginny. Ginny smiling, Ginny frowning, Ginny crying...Ginny screaming in pain as she dug her fingernails into her palms and blood seeped out...
He lurched back, arching his way into bed, his eyes wide open. He never wanted to go back to sleep again.
***
"You've never been powerful, Ginny, admit it."
"No."
"I don't need you to admit it, Ginny. You're all mine, now. All mine," he mocked at her, his hand going through her red hair, tugging at her strands every so often, touching her freckled face.
"No..." she grew restless, weakness developing her in ways she'd never imagined. It felt as if blood had been taken out of her. She collapsed in the Chamber, with Tom's laugh echoing in her eardrums...
***
You know you want to go to it, a voice sang in his mind. See what's in there...go on, there's no harm...
Harry led his feet up to the Mirror of Erised, looking at it, expectantly. For a split second it seemed like a regular mirror - then, an image rose. But not the familiar image of his parents and other relatives waving to him.
This image was something else. Malfoy was dead on the floor, and he was standing before him, a joyous, sick expression on his face. Ginny was behind him, her small arms wrapped delicately around his waist, she was saying something to him, smiling, and they started to kiss...but the blood of Malfoy was still trailing across the floor...
***
The next day was what was horrible. Harry woke with a severe headache that cut across his skin and stroke his scar in a pricking pinch. He could remember the dream clearly, it was making him drowsy inside - he felt vaguely weakened, but he pushed the thoughts away. He need to see Ginny. He and her would go to Dumbledore...and everything would be fine.
When he went downstairs to the common room, he was glad to see Ginny there, waiting for him. She gave him a small kiss on the lips before grabbing his arm, and they headed down the hallways.
"I don't know what the new password for his office is though..."
"Mr. Potter? Miss Weasley?" Professor McGonagall appeared in front of them. "What're you doing up, early?"
"We need to see the Headmaster, Professor," Ginny quipped.
Professor McGonagall looked gravely at them. "I am afraid...that is not possible."
A sudden deja vu of Harry's first year hit him as he tried to struggle for words. "Why not?" he managed.
She sighed. "I suppose the whole school's going to know anyways. Might as well let you know. He's in St. Mungo's."
***
"St. Mungo's?" Ginny exclaimed, horrified. "But...but, why?"
"There's been an attack. In his sleep. Nobody knows why, but he seems to be poisoned. Severus found him this morning, burn marks all across his chest and neck...it's awful, really...he'll be fully recovered by April, I hope. He has to be there for when the seventh years take N.E.W.T.S."
"But...but..."
"I must go, now. Must alert the students." She walked away with no other words.
"Oh, no," muttered Ginny. "Why did we wait to tell him? Now he's gone..."
"Burn marks..."
"What?" Ginny looked up at him, then realization took over her face. "Oh no...you don't think..."
"Nagini," Harry whispered, his face dreadfully final.
***
"The blood of a Seer, born at eighth, strong at rainfall...the blood in which runs Cassandra..."
"No!" Ginny was writhing, kicking, but he pulled her to him, and took the knife, slicing the skin right on her neck...
Draco woke up, glistening with sweat.
***
"Harry..." she protested.
He continued to unbutton her blouse slowly, kissing the flesh on her neck.
"You should go. It's almost midnight!" Ginny insisted. He pulled away, narrowing his eyes.
"Why? Are you having another visitor?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Ginny shook her head, blinking. "No, of course not. You just need your sleep..."
"I don't want to sleep, Ginny, don't you get it? Whenever I sleep...I dream horrible things...I can't take it anymore!"
"Harry," she breathed, gently prodding his cheek with her hand. "You need sleep, whether you like it or not. We need to figure this out before somebody gets killed."
"Alright," he relented reluctantly, pulling away from her. "Good night," he bid her.
"Good night."
After she made sure he left, she reached up and grasped her oval-shaped mirror, and began to brush her hair. The process began slow and mellow.
It was just a few moments after that she realized the face looking back at her wasn't hers. It was the woman - the woman from the dream. She screamed loudly, not sure if anybody heard her.
"YOU MUST NOT DESTROY IT. IT WILL SAVE YOUR LIFE AND MORE," roared the woman. It seemed as if the woman was making a ...prediction?
The mirror fell away from her hands, and into the floor, smashing in cracks.
"Ginny?" a girl called. "Are you okay?"
"I am fine," she called back, her heartbeat pacing forward as she picked up the mirror and looked back at it, but the woman was gone. It was her own reflection that was peering back at her. She put the mirror away, hiding it, and closed the drapes around her bed, not caring if she ever brushed her hair again.
At this time, midnight had struck.
And March had began.
***