AUTHOR: Wildmoonflower
TITLE: If you don't love me, lie to me
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters in the fic belong to me. They are the
property of J K Rowling and Warner Brothers and so on and so on.
NOTES: The inspiration for this short fic comes from the Bon Jovi song 'Lie
to me' from his 'These Days' album. This is slightly depressing but so is
the song so I guess it is inevitable. Anyhow if you are an easily depressed
person then I suggest that you do not read this. Hey do you know what? I am
now an official Harry Potter listian.
PAIRING: Harry/Ginny + Draco/Ginny
RATING: PG- 13
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Harry
It stinks of evil. The whole place and there's blood in the walls. I can smell it. I'm surprised it's not seeping through and covering the carpet with its sticky liquid. Malfoy Manor, why don't they just call it the temple of bad faith? I can hardly breath the air is so heavy with the sticky perfume of darkness, evil and decay. I hardly know why I'm here. Voldemort died at my hands years ago. After that Draco took his place. He grew strong, much stronger than Voldemort had ever been. He sent all the muggle born to Azkaban. He killed Hermione after promising her the world. She believed him as well and left Ron for him. He had lied. He had played a game with her dreams; told her that together they could recreate the world. Make it new and fresh and clean. But he lied. All he wanted was to take her powers just to make himself stronger. He kept her here in his manor for months, every day taking more and more of her power. She never noticed she just kept on trusting him, loving him. Stupid girl. He drained her power and then brought her back to the Burrow where Ron, Ginny and I were living. He performed the killing curse on her right then and there in front of our eyes. In her last few seconds of life she cried to him "Lie to me!" He didn't even have enough humanity in him to do that for her. He just smirked cruelly and stared at her with silver eyes. "No." The he disapparated and left us with the body. Ron sank into deep depression after that. His mind couldn't take it. All he could see was a vision of that night replaying itself in his head over and over again. He is in St Mungo's now. As I said I don't know why I'm here. I defeated Draco a year ago. But I didn't kill him. Instead he retreated back to his manor. Losing himself and his mind some say in the damp and decay. He is too pathetic a figure for me to be bothering myself with now. So why am I here? I am here for revenge and this time it is personal. I want to kill him for killing Hermione and for driving Ron mad and for being simply what he is. I can hear Ginny behind me, her nervous breathing giving her away in the dark corridor. She insisted on coming with me. I didn't want her to. I'm not scared of losing her, my wife. I just didn't want her to see me kill him. She has seen me kill Death Eaters in battle before but that's different. This time I'm killing someone, someone that used to be a little blond boy, maybe he was a mean little boy but he was still a little boy. A little blond, silver eyed boy that we both knew.
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Ginny
I feel sick in here. The smell is haunting. It's the smell of broken dreams and lost innocence and nightmares and fallen angels and evil. Harry didn't want me to come but I had to. I have to see what has become of my dreamer. You see I have a secret that Harry can never know. I was once in love with Draco Malfoy. In his last year at Hogwarts I noticed that he was always looking at me. You know the look. The 'first crush' stare. The one where you sneak a peek when you think they aren't looking and then look away blushing when they catch your eye. I used to love it when he blushed. His hair was so white, like silk and his skin was also so pale but not deathly pale just a milky white. But when I caught his eyes a pale pink blush would spread across his cheeks and make his silver eyes sparkle. We met secretly all through that last year. Harry, Ron and Hermione never noticed or suspected a thing. If they had found out I doubt any of them would have been too pleased especially since Harry was supposed to be my boyfriend. When we met Draco would tell me his dreams, they were far-fetched and magical but that was because he was a dreamer. I never was but I used to get caught up in his dreams as he told them to me. They seemed to be spun like silk from his seemingly never-ending imagination. His features had an ethereal, almost unreal dreamlike quality to them as well. He was so innocent and he really believed in dreams. Like a little boy, he was earnest and could be so playful and sweet then so serious and honest and then so mean and stubborn. I suspect that no one apart from me ever got to know his dreams. He had a reputation to uphold you see. His favourite dream was of a land where there was equality and no pain and no tears and no fighting. He could describe the land so vividly that sometimes he made me believe it was real and then I cried because there was no way I could ever go there. I had a theory back then. I believed that the place he described was heaven and that he was an angel who had accidentally fallen to earth and his dreams were his only memories of what heaven was like. That's what he was, he was my angel.
That summer after school finished for the last time I went on holiday with Harry, Ron and Hermione. I fell more and more in love with Harry during that holiday. I fell in love with his bravery, his reliability, his loyalty and his down to earth, firmly grounded in reality logic. The way I felt safe when I was with him. When I was with Draco I felt like I was on a roller coaster ride of dreams and it was exhilarating, addictive and beautiful. But there was always the voice in the back of my head telling me that dreams weren't real and that sooner or later that roller coaster would crash. With Harry there was none of that. So when he asked me to marry him I said yes. We were very young but I trusted him completely and I still do. The only thing that was ruining my happiness that summer was that I knew that when I got back from the holiday I had to break the news to my angel. We got back in late August and I arranged to meet him in a clearing in a forest that bordered Hogsmeade, which was where we sometimes met when we were still in school. He was five minutes late and all the while I was waiting my anticipation at seeing him again was slowly being clouded by the lost love that was already breaking half of my heart. He was beautiful. Exactly like the angel I had always believed he was. His hair was silky and fell in shimmering white waves to his shoulders. His pale skin shone in the warm sun and his glittering silver eyes reflected the dreamer that dwelled within him. He wore an artiste like white shirt and black jeans. He sat down on the soft green grass beside me and told me to close my eyes. I knew that I should get it over and done with but there was a part of me that just couldn't let go, that wanted to hold on for just a few more minutes. I pretended to close my eyes but I watched him secretly through my thick eyelashes. He stood up and raised his palms toward the sky. They shone with a bright white light and suddenly a rose appeared in the air above them. The rose was a swirling mixture of pink, white and green and the stem had no thorns. I opened my eyes properly not caring that he wanted me to keep them closed. He didn't mind though, instead he smiled at me and beckoned for me to stand beside him. Once I was there he spoke to me. "Touch it." He said. I obeyed and touched the flower's centre. All of a sudden pink and white petals began to fall from the sky like confetti coloured rain. I loved it; it was magic done without a wand, innocent magic that came from the soul, magic that could only be done by a dreamer. I twirled around, dancing through the rain of petals, feeling them slip through my fingers like silk. I was lost in the moment, never wanting it to end, never wanting to let go. But I had to let go. You couldn't live on dreams. I stopped dancing and took him by the hands. My throat was dry and I could hardly summon the courage to speak. I decided to tell him bluntly and not skirt around the edges. I didn't want to have to tell him twice. "I'm going to marry Harry Draco." He looked at me with a heartbroken smile. I looked into his silver eyes. I could see his dreams splintering within them. A shining tear slid down his cheek. Thunder rumbled overhead and I noticed that the petals had stopped falling. It began to rain, pouring rain. It splattered on my head and mingled with my own tears. Green lightning flashed, unreal and eerie. Then I realised that it was Draco who was creating the storm. Green lightning for jealousy, rain as though the Gods themselves were crying over our fate. "I'm sorry Draco," I whispered. Then I ran and I didn't look back. That was the last time I saw him until he killed Hermione. I heard of him of course, how he succeeded Voldemort and how he killed millions of muggle born witches and wizards and how he was more evil and more powerful than the devil and how Harry had finally defeated him but not killed him. As I heard all these things I cried and wondered what could have happened to the dreamer I once knew. Surely he could not have loved me that much. Surely I could not have broken him so badly when I told him goodbye. But I knew that it was true.
Harry has stopped now. We are in front of a small oak door. It is covered in mould in some places and the knob is scratched badly. "Is he in there?" "Yes," is Harry's answer, I can feel the despair, my angel's despair even stronger now. The scent of broken dreams hangs so heavy in the air I wouldn't be surprised if you could cut it with a knife. Harry opens the door and we go in. The room is quite dark and it takes me a while to spot him. He is huddled in the corner of the room beside a fireplace that has long been unlit. His frail body is swathed in thick black robes that give the impression of swallowing him up. His spindly hands clutch at the robes as if they are a lifeline. His face is gaunt and he looks older than his years. His pale skin now looks deathly and eerie. His silver eyes have lost their old sparkle and now they just reflect what is around him. His white hair once so silky and well kept is now tangled and hangs long around his shoulders, shielding part of his face from our sight. I could cry for him. But I would only be crying for myself.
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Draco
There are people in the room. I can just make them out through the hazy fog of my mind. It's him, the saviour. Good maybe he's here to finish me off. There is someone else though, a woman. Oh God its her. Come to mock me in my life of despair I suppose. I gave her everything. I gave her my soul I gave her my heart. And what did she do? She took it and ripped it apart and then threw it back in my face as she stood with Potter in a church laughing at my misery. I can hardly see her. My sight isn't so good any more. I feel as though I'm fading away slowly, excruciatingly slowly. Sometimes I just live on my memories but even they aren't so clear anymore. My whole life isn't so clear anymore. She has moved closer now. I can make out her red hair, silky hair that curls slightly over her shoulders. I wish I could see her eyes. They were green and sparkly when I saw them last. No change that, they were the traitorous serpent green eyes of the woman who left me for my worst enemy. Why did she leave me? She could have pretended. She could have stayed. Even if she hadn't loved me she could have lied to me. I would have believed her. I needed to believe her. I can hear Potter shouting at me. I can't make out what he is saying though. My ears are always filled with the sound of thunder. It's hard to make anything out over that sound. "Just go ahead and kill me Potter!" I croak although it takes nearly all my energy to do so. He's pulling his wand out. He's going to do it. If I could just believe, just one more dream before I die. I just need to believe. She doesn't have to love me she just has to lie to me. He utters the curse and I can see the green light go through my body but I can't feel it. I'm so weak now. I'm nearly gone, If I could just believe. "Lie to me Ginny." I whisper softly, the words draining my last ounce of energy. "I don't need to lie Draco." She says in a choking whisper. It's too late. I can't hear her anymore.
~ The End ~
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Harry
It stinks of evil. The whole place and there's blood in the walls. I can smell it. I'm surprised it's not seeping through and covering the carpet with its sticky liquid. Malfoy Manor, why don't they just call it the temple of bad faith? I can hardly breath the air is so heavy with the sticky perfume of darkness, evil and decay. I hardly know why I'm here. Voldemort died at my hands years ago. After that Draco took his place. He grew strong, much stronger than Voldemort had ever been. He sent all the muggle born to Azkaban. He killed Hermione after promising her the world. She believed him as well and left Ron for him. He had lied. He had played a game with her dreams; told her that together they could recreate the world. Make it new and fresh and clean. But he lied. All he wanted was to take her powers just to make himself stronger. He kept her here in his manor for months, every day taking more and more of her power. She never noticed she just kept on trusting him, loving him. Stupid girl. He drained her power and then brought her back to the Burrow where Ron, Ginny and I were living. He performed the killing curse on her right then and there in front of our eyes. In her last few seconds of life she cried to him "Lie to me!" He didn't even have enough humanity in him to do that for her. He just smirked cruelly and stared at her with silver eyes. "No." The he disapparated and left us with the body. Ron sank into deep depression after that. His mind couldn't take it. All he could see was a vision of that night replaying itself in his head over and over again. He is in St Mungo's now. As I said I don't know why I'm here. I defeated Draco a year ago. But I didn't kill him. Instead he retreated back to his manor. Losing himself and his mind some say in the damp and decay. He is too pathetic a figure for me to be bothering myself with now. So why am I here? I am here for revenge and this time it is personal. I want to kill him for killing Hermione and for driving Ron mad and for being simply what he is. I can hear Ginny behind me, her nervous breathing giving her away in the dark corridor. She insisted on coming with me. I didn't want her to. I'm not scared of losing her, my wife. I just didn't want her to see me kill him. She has seen me kill Death Eaters in battle before but that's different. This time I'm killing someone, someone that used to be a little blond boy, maybe he was a mean little boy but he was still a little boy. A little blond, silver eyed boy that we both knew.
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Ginny
I feel sick in here. The smell is haunting. It's the smell of broken dreams and lost innocence and nightmares and fallen angels and evil. Harry didn't want me to come but I had to. I have to see what has become of my dreamer. You see I have a secret that Harry can never know. I was once in love with Draco Malfoy. In his last year at Hogwarts I noticed that he was always looking at me. You know the look. The 'first crush' stare. The one where you sneak a peek when you think they aren't looking and then look away blushing when they catch your eye. I used to love it when he blushed. His hair was so white, like silk and his skin was also so pale but not deathly pale just a milky white. But when I caught his eyes a pale pink blush would spread across his cheeks and make his silver eyes sparkle. We met secretly all through that last year. Harry, Ron and Hermione never noticed or suspected a thing. If they had found out I doubt any of them would have been too pleased especially since Harry was supposed to be my boyfriend. When we met Draco would tell me his dreams, they were far-fetched and magical but that was because he was a dreamer. I never was but I used to get caught up in his dreams as he told them to me. They seemed to be spun like silk from his seemingly never-ending imagination. His features had an ethereal, almost unreal dreamlike quality to them as well. He was so innocent and he really believed in dreams. Like a little boy, he was earnest and could be so playful and sweet then so serious and honest and then so mean and stubborn. I suspect that no one apart from me ever got to know his dreams. He had a reputation to uphold you see. His favourite dream was of a land where there was equality and no pain and no tears and no fighting. He could describe the land so vividly that sometimes he made me believe it was real and then I cried because there was no way I could ever go there. I had a theory back then. I believed that the place he described was heaven and that he was an angel who had accidentally fallen to earth and his dreams were his only memories of what heaven was like. That's what he was, he was my angel.
That summer after school finished for the last time I went on holiday with Harry, Ron and Hermione. I fell more and more in love with Harry during that holiday. I fell in love with his bravery, his reliability, his loyalty and his down to earth, firmly grounded in reality logic. The way I felt safe when I was with him. When I was with Draco I felt like I was on a roller coaster ride of dreams and it was exhilarating, addictive and beautiful. But there was always the voice in the back of my head telling me that dreams weren't real and that sooner or later that roller coaster would crash. With Harry there was none of that. So when he asked me to marry him I said yes. We were very young but I trusted him completely and I still do. The only thing that was ruining my happiness that summer was that I knew that when I got back from the holiday I had to break the news to my angel. We got back in late August and I arranged to meet him in a clearing in a forest that bordered Hogsmeade, which was where we sometimes met when we were still in school. He was five minutes late and all the while I was waiting my anticipation at seeing him again was slowly being clouded by the lost love that was already breaking half of my heart. He was beautiful. Exactly like the angel I had always believed he was. His hair was silky and fell in shimmering white waves to his shoulders. His pale skin shone in the warm sun and his glittering silver eyes reflected the dreamer that dwelled within him. He wore an artiste like white shirt and black jeans. He sat down on the soft green grass beside me and told me to close my eyes. I knew that I should get it over and done with but there was a part of me that just couldn't let go, that wanted to hold on for just a few more minutes. I pretended to close my eyes but I watched him secretly through my thick eyelashes. He stood up and raised his palms toward the sky. They shone with a bright white light and suddenly a rose appeared in the air above them. The rose was a swirling mixture of pink, white and green and the stem had no thorns. I opened my eyes properly not caring that he wanted me to keep them closed. He didn't mind though, instead he smiled at me and beckoned for me to stand beside him. Once I was there he spoke to me. "Touch it." He said. I obeyed and touched the flower's centre. All of a sudden pink and white petals began to fall from the sky like confetti coloured rain. I loved it; it was magic done without a wand, innocent magic that came from the soul, magic that could only be done by a dreamer. I twirled around, dancing through the rain of petals, feeling them slip through my fingers like silk. I was lost in the moment, never wanting it to end, never wanting to let go. But I had to let go. You couldn't live on dreams. I stopped dancing and took him by the hands. My throat was dry and I could hardly summon the courage to speak. I decided to tell him bluntly and not skirt around the edges. I didn't want to have to tell him twice. "I'm going to marry Harry Draco." He looked at me with a heartbroken smile. I looked into his silver eyes. I could see his dreams splintering within them. A shining tear slid down his cheek. Thunder rumbled overhead and I noticed that the petals had stopped falling. It began to rain, pouring rain. It splattered on my head and mingled with my own tears. Green lightning flashed, unreal and eerie. Then I realised that it was Draco who was creating the storm. Green lightning for jealousy, rain as though the Gods themselves were crying over our fate. "I'm sorry Draco," I whispered. Then I ran and I didn't look back. That was the last time I saw him until he killed Hermione. I heard of him of course, how he succeeded Voldemort and how he killed millions of muggle born witches and wizards and how he was more evil and more powerful than the devil and how Harry had finally defeated him but not killed him. As I heard all these things I cried and wondered what could have happened to the dreamer I once knew. Surely he could not have loved me that much. Surely I could not have broken him so badly when I told him goodbye. But I knew that it was true.
Harry has stopped now. We are in front of a small oak door. It is covered in mould in some places and the knob is scratched badly. "Is he in there?" "Yes," is Harry's answer, I can feel the despair, my angel's despair even stronger now. The scent of broken dreams hangs so heavy in the air I wouldn't be surprised if you could cut it with a knife. Harry opens the door and we go in. The room is quite dark and it takes me a while to spot him. He is huddled in the corner of the room beside a fireplace that has long been unlit. His frail body is swathed in thick black robes that give the impression of swallowing him up. His spindly hands clutch at the robes as if they are a lifeline. His face is gaunt and he looks older than his years. His pale skin now looks deathly and eerie. His silver eyes have lost their old sparkle and now they just reflect what is around him. His white hair once so silky and well kept is now tangled and hangs long around his shoulders, shielding part of his face from our sight. I could cry for him. But I would only be crying for myself.
**************************************************************************** ****************
Draco
There are people in the room. I can just make them out through the hazy fog of my mind. It's him, the saviour. Good maybe he's here to finish me off. There is someone else though, a woman. Oh God its her. Come to mock me in my life of despair I suppose. I gave her everything. I gave her my soul I gave her my heart. And what did she do? She took it and ripped it apart and then threw it back in my face as she stood with Potter in a church laughing at my misery. I can hardly see her. My sight isn't so good any more. I feel as though I'm fading away slowly, excruciatingly slowly. Sometimes I just live on my memories but even they aren't so clear anymore. My whole life isn't so clear anymore. She has moved closer now. I can make out her red hair, silky hair that curls slightly over her shoulders. I wish I could see her eyes. They were green and sparkly when I saw them last. No change that, they were the traitorous serpent green eyes of the woman who left me for my worst enemy. Why did she leave me? She could have pretended. She could have stayed. Even if she hadn't loved me she could have lied to me. I would have believed her. I needed to believe her. I can hear Potter shouting at me. I can't make out what he is saying though. My ears are always filled with the sound of thunder. It's hard to make anything out over that sound. "Just go ahead and kill me Potter!" I croak although it takes nearly all my energy to do so. He's pulling his wand out. He's going to do it. If I could just believe, just one more dream before I die. I just need to believe. She doesn't have to love me she just has to lie to me. He utters the curse and I can see the green light go through my body but I can't feel it. I'm so weak now. I'm nearly gone, If I could just believe. "Lie to me Ginny." I whisper softly, the words draining my last ounce of energy. "I don't need to lie Draco." She says in a choking whisper. It's too late. I can't hear her anymore.
~ The End ~