Title: We All Fall Down
Author: Tiny Q
E-Mail: one legged lesbian seagull hotmail com (Please add 3 underscores, one "at" sign, and a period)
A/N: Well, this chapter came out faster than the last one. Be happy. I really shouldn't have even had it done yet, what with all my essays and poop to do. But oh well. I suppose I will just have to work extra hard now. Anyways, this chapter is a bit long but I need it to developed a few things before the excitement starts. Otherwise I know you will all be screaming at me for the sudden change in characters. Anyhoo, have fun...
Disclaimer: I own nothing, plain and simple.
We All Fall Down
Chapter
4
Paint it Black
o-o-o
Soundtrack: "Paint it Black" by The Rolling Stones
o-o-o
Ginny stared into the mirror, not quite believing who she saw in it. The woman she saw before her didn't seem to be her anymore. She hadn't pulled her hair into a ponytail for the last week, not wanting to truly see what was underneath her red hair. It had only been a matter of time until she did though and the result was more startling than she had expected.
There were dark tracks under her eyes, making her eyes themselves seem darker than they should be. But then it simply could have been the absence of happiness in them that made them seem so off tone. Those same dark eyes traveled to her cheeks and she was surprised to see that the bones were more defined than usual. She didn't think that her food intake had been that affected, but then it seemed that everything had been tossed into chaos for the past week.
Ginny had not been able to sleep properly ever since it began. It seemed that whenever she closed her eyes she would see the images of people's deaths playing themselves over and over and over until she felt she could scream. She never did however, for it would send him after her.
She still wasn't quite sure as to why she had told him what she had. She had never told anyone that. Yet it had just found its way out of her lips and to his ears. It had been a mistake, especially since Malfoy now seemed to think that she really was unsound and seemed to make points of checking on her. Not in a kind way either, he always managed to make it seem as though she was about to kill herself any moment and save the Dark Lord the trouble.
She really could hear all of the souls. She could if she sat there, in the silence, and had nothing to distract herself from them. They would cry out in her mind, over and over again as if they were reliving their deaths in a constant, torturous cycle. And she knew it was not just the memories of the incidents imprinted on her mind. What they said changed every time. What he said was always different. As though he was still alive...
But she wouldn't sit there and listen. There were people to save, as she kept telling herself. There had been no one to save yet, however, as she had still not received another premonition. She wasn't looking forward to them, but their absence was beginning to unnerve her. It was like knowing something was going to jump up and hit you, you knew it was close but you couldn't tell exactly when it would happen and just when you let your guard down it catches you unprepared. So she had been trying to keep her guard up. Not that it would do her much good if she did or not.
All this waiting however was not helping her work either. Everyday after the meeting, both Ginny and Malfoy would go to the Department of Mysteries where they would attempt to work on her counter curses. Yet she couldn't seem to keep her mind on things and what ever she was working on kept getting blotched up, giving her Protector more reasons to sneer and spite at her. She was really starting to hate that man. More than she could give reason for. Yet she had to admit that his information for the Department was proving useful. Not exactly for herself, but for her coworker's tasks.
The Ministry itself had been put on standby, waiting for Voldemort's first move, if it hadn't happened already. At least, this was what Harry had told her. She had insisted that he keep her informed on whatever progress he made with the Black woman. So far they had nothing to go on other than the fact that she had moved out of the country after she had graduated. Ginny had faith in them though, and wasn't too worried about their success, she knew it was inevitable.
Shaking her head slightly, Ginny reached down and grabbed her toothbrush, which had been sitting on the cup with the toothpaste soaking into it for the last five minutes, and shoved it into her mouth. She began to brush furiously as though her teeth were the reason she was thinking this much and if she scrubbed them hard enough all her problems would drop away. It was then that the door opened.
Ginny's head snapped to the door to see an irritated blonde standing there.
"Hey!" she uttered through her toothpaste. "Get out!"
"No," he replied simply, striding into the room and coming to stand beside her. She glared at him as though he was out of his mind, her toothbrush hanging out of her mouth. He looked at her, "Lovely Weasley. But I want to sleep some time tonight. You have been in here for over a bloody hour." He looked around. "And it seems all you have been doing is starring at yourself. Productive."
Ginny glared at him, wanting to open her mouth and tell him off, but the toothbrush hindered this desire. So instead she continued her brushing, glaring moodily at him in the mirror as he begun to brush his own teeth. He glared back.
"You're such a git," she mumbled through her paste. He smirked at her slightly, and she frowned. Turning her head down into the sink she spat out the overused toothpaste and grabbed her glass, taking a sip and swishing it about. "You could have just knocked."
"I coubn't hab," he said, the toothbrush in his mouth moving with his words. "Bub I bibn't."
"You're a fucking ass," Ginny hissed at him, proceeding to wash her face furiously, a glare on her face the whole time. Toweling dry, she continued to glare at him then strode out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
'The nerve,' she thought bitterly, storming to her bedroom and proceeded to slam this door as well. She wasn't quite sure why she was letting him get to her like this. It wasn't as though she hadn't had to deal with immature boys before. She realized though, that this was different. While she had had to live with her brothers because they were her family, Malfoy was not. He had no right to treat her like she didn't matter. Like she was inferior in comparison to him.
Letting out a growl of frustration, Ginny threw herself onto her bed, her face falling into her pillow. 'Perhaps I could smother myself,' she mused as the need for air began to prickle at her lungs. 'Maybe that will make him grow up.'
Ginny stopped moving, processing just how childish that last statement had sounded. Since when had she taken to using her own life to make others feel as she wanted them to? If she killed herself she would only prove his suspicious that she was not quite right in her head. That she really was insane and had suicidal thoughts. The mere thought of proving a Malfoy right was beyond what Ginny could stomach, and she turned over onto her back.
With a sigh of frustration at her own childishness, Ginny wormed her way under her covers, snuggling as deep down as she could. Yet even as she closed her eyes, she saw the images of horrible things dance before her eyelids. Images that she never wanted to see and should never have seen. Never would have seen if she hadn't been outside.
With a small shriek of frustration, she rolled over and pulled the drawer of her bedside table opened, and pulled herself over to look into it. The bottle lay there, seeming just as it should and just in its place. 'I just want one night of sleep,' she thought tiredly, the last week seeming to suddenly weigh down on her. 'Just one night.' Reaching her hand out, she grasped the small bottle, and, pulling the cork out, drew it to her lips.
She hesitated, the scent of the potion drifting up to her nostrils. She didn't have to worry about waking up the next morning after all, so it wouldn't be wrong of her to take it. It was Saturday and she had convinced her Protector that it was a decent day to sleep in. And she wanted to sleep in. Yet something prevented her from tipping the bottle back. It wasn't as if she was addicted to this stuff. She barely used it. Only on occasions when she couldn't fall asleep for the life of her. For when the nightmares decided to ravage her mind.
Yet she wasn't experiencing nightmares now. Just memories. Memories that haunted her sleep and in turn were slowly ruining her ability to function properly. Somewhere deep within her though, Ginny knew that this was only the beginning. That if she began to become depend on artificial sleep it would not work when she needed it to. That she would suffer more in the future, more than she was now. Yet she wanted to sleep, no matter how irrational this seemed at the moment.
Slamming her eyes shut, Ginny tipped the small bottle back and welcomed the warm liquid that flowed into her mouth and down her throat, making her entire body warm up as it traveled quickly through her system. Putting the cork back in and replacing the bottle to its original position Ginny slip the drawer shut. Slipping back underneath the depths of the covers, she let her head fall back into the pillows.
She was just on her way to sleep as she heard the door to her room open. Yet knowing who it was she ignored him. He was just making sure she hadn't done anything rash anyway.
Ginny slept for ten hours, never once seeing anything in her dreams but blankness that stretched indefinitely. She could see slight shadows, but she ignored them, standing silently in the blankness all around her. She was nothing but at peace. Blissful peace that let her sway and rest and exist without thought. Exist this way until she heard something make a large noise.
Ginny woke up, sitting up fast with surprise. She looked around in confusion, and had to bite back a yelp of settlement when her eyes came to rest on someone just beside her bed. Her hands drew the covers to her shoulders in a flash.
"What the hell are you doing in here Malfoy?" she demanded, glaring at the already dressed man who was holding something in his hand. She felt her stomach drop as she realized what it was: her sleeping draught. Then she frowned internally at her stomach. She hadn't done anything wrong. Was he going to keep her from receiving decent sleep now?
"You took this, didn't you?" he demanded, thrusting the bottle at her. "I couldn't figure out why you were sleeping so long. You never sleep more than five or six hours." As Ginny stared at him, she realized that the man was angrier than she had ever seen him become while she was under his charge. She felt herself shrink back slightly, despite herself. "After a while, I tried to wake you up, but you wouldn't give any sign that you were alive, save from your breathing."
He was breathing slightly heavier than he usually did, causing Ginny to frown. This only seemed to make him angrier however.
"I thought that they had poisoned you!" he suddenly burst out at her. "That they had decided not to kill you but simply inhibit your abilities. To make it so that you couldn't help anyone if you wanted to!" His breath was coming out in slight rasps now, which gave Ginny the impression that he was in the process of going up a large flight of stairs. "So I started to go look around for a way they could have gotten in, and I found this." He thrust the bottle at her again, further this time, causing Ginny to snap back in surprise.
"Sorry," she sneered after a moment, glaring up at him. "I wanted some sleep. Is that a crime?"
"Yes!" he said forcefully, glaring down on her. "How am I supposed to protect you when you go off and do something stupid like this?"
"How is wanting sleep stupid!" she demanded, rising up slightly. "If anything, your reacting like this is-" Ginny felt her words die in her throat, as she saw something she never thought she would have seen. "Malfoy, your nose," she said slowly, the anger that had been within her dropping away to be replaced with concern. Concern she couldn't quite place.
The man raised his hand and swiped at it. She could see the blood traveling down the length of his it to his wrist. She stared. How could a Malfoy have a bleeding nose? It must be against something in their history. He stiffened.
"It's nothing," he replied, looking down at his hand, and not at her. Then he raised it again and pinched his nose shut.
"It's not nothing," she insisted without thought, frowning at him. "You're bleeding."
"I said it's nothing," he said softly, his eyes casting about slightly.
"But-" she began, getting up on her knees and moving towards him.
"What part of nothing don't you understand, Weasley!" he suddenly burst out, causing Ginny to pause in her pursuit. "And don't touch me," he hissed at her.
"Malfoy," she said cautiously.
"Just don't!" he snapped, then turned and strode out of her room, blood traveling all down his arm now.
Ginny struggled out of bed and jumped to her feet, rushing out of the room only to see the bathroom door close. She frowned. 'That wasn't natural' she thought darkly, staring at the handle to the bathroom door. There was blood on it.
She stood there for a moment, staring at the red substance that she never would have suspected to leave the blonde's nose. It was bizarre to think that a Protector, that a Malfoy, would have something wrong with his health, especially because of the latter factor.
'He had looked so angry,' Ginny thought, eyes still fixed on the door knob. 'So startled.'
Somehow it put Ginny's mind on edge to see so much emotion from the man. She had never seen anything more but impassiveness and mild degrees of a few other emotions on his face for as long as she had known him. But to see such strong emotion now after all this time was just startling. Or so it seemed as her heart didn't seem to want to slow down to its usual speed.
Tearing her eyes away from the bathroom door, Ginny raised her hand and clutched at her beating heart. Taking in a deep breath, she walked forward and made her way to the kitchen, thinking that perhaps some breakfast would erase his eyes from her mind. She had seen more disturbing sights than an angry or startled Draco Malfoy. Many more. Yet he hadn't even looked that startled when she had seen him die...
"Stop thinking about it, Ginny," she said aloud to herself, her voice bringing her mind back to reality. Dropping her hand from her chest, she busied herself with making some food. Fruit Loops won once more, but as she sat staring at it, she still couldn't quite erase his face from her memory. Erase the blood that seemed so out of place. She had never seen the man show any signs of weakness. Ever. Well, except for that one time when he fell off his broom in her fifth year.
A door on the other side of the wall opened, and Ginny stood up, hoping to get a word with him. As to what she would have said she had no idea. Nor did she have any idea why she wanted to talk to him either. She was saved the worry of figuring out what to say, however, as she heard the door to the study he was staying in close. 'Perhaps it is better this way,' she thought with a small sigh, looking down on her breakfast. Somehow she couldn't bring herself to sit back down and finish it.
Shaking her head in frustration she gathered her things and headed to the bathroom. She looked about it, but she could see no signs of the bloody nose. 'Odd,' she mused, closing the door and resisting the urge to lock it. She silently swore at him once more for that little rule, but she did it every time she closed that door, regardless if he was weak or not.
Stripping down, she turned on the shower and got in, making the water as hot as she could bear. And then she stood there. For some reason the lethargic feeling that had prevented her from doing anything but thinking had overcome her once more and she couldn't even bring herself to wash her hair.
It was all so screwed up. She was stuck living with a Malfoy. Stuck living with a Malfoy because the Dark Lord, the creature who was supposed to have been killed off for good, was back in the world of the living. And he wanted her dead. But of course he did. She had no doubt in her mind that he had every reason to. If she had been in his shoes she would have been trying to kill her too. Trying to kill off the only warning system the opposition had. It would be folly not to. The fact that she was agreeing with the justification for her death warrant only proved to her how screwed up things really were.
Closing her eyes tightly, she tried to clear her mind of her thoughts, no longer wishing to be tormented by them. It was a horrible way to live lately. When she was awake she was tormented by her thoughts and doubts and then when she slept, the one time she should be able to escape the world, she was plagued by nightmares and memories of terrible days gone by. And they were about to return...
The shower did her some good, and by the time she was back in her room, dressed in comfy old robes and fuzzy blue slippers, she felt a little better. A little more alive than before. Pulling her charmed dry hair back into a ponytail, not caring if Malfoy saw her drawn face, she looked about and gave an utterance of disgust at the state of her room. There were three weeks worth of clothing scattered about the room.
Without clear thought, Ginny reached into her closet and, grabbing the laundry basket, began to pick up the selection of clothing. When she had it all in the basket resting against her hip, she made her way to the laundry room in the corner of her sitting room. It should have been a closet really, but the Muggles had managed to shove two appliances in there just the same, and it wasn't like she minded. If she left the door open and leant back a little she could see out the window and see the once again rainy day.
Ginny didn't quite know why she washed her clothes the Muggle way. She could easily charm them all clean and be done with them. Yet there was something about the mindless activity of it that appealed to her. The way she had a simple purpose, if only for a short time. For as soon as she was done washing, drying, hanging or ironing, as soon as she left that tiny room, she was back to who she really was. Back to the supposed defender of the damned.
Dropping the basket onto the top of the dryer, Ginny frowned at the colorful contents of the basket. 'It's all so cheerful,' Ginny thought impassively, staring at the articles as though they weren't entirely real. Without contemplating it too much, she took out her wand, and with two flicks, transfigured every article black. Then she stepped back and surveyed what she had done.
"Well, now I'll only have to do three loads and not six," she sighed, reaching up to the shelf above the machines to turn on the small radio. But she found that she couldn't quite make her hand turn the dial. She didn't quite feel like listening to anything at the moment. She didn't quite feel like distracting herself from her thoughts. Not at the moment anyway. She had done enough of that last night.
With a sigh Ginny turned the dials on the washing machine, causing the water to begin to pour into the barrel. She watched as it swirled around, feeling her mind go rather blank in the process. This room was truly a haven of sorts, for her mind at least.
With another sigh she poured the detergent into the water, waiting for it to dissolve. She then bent down to grab the fabric softener and came up short. She glared down at the large bottle. As to how she had gotten the bulk sized container to her flat in the first place was beyond her. She had a feeling that she had charmed it feather light, but she couldn't quite remember. She did not charm it this time though, instead deciding to struggle with it, to try and make herself stronger in a way.
"You're weak, Weasley," a voice drawled from behind her. Letting out a startled gasp, Ginny dropped the large bottle, leaping back so as not to have her feet crushed. The plastic seem split, letting the blue fluid flow along the floor. "Careful."
"Stuff it," Ginny snapped, not turning to look at the man she knew was sneering at her. She took out her wand and charmed the contents back into the container and sealed it as well. With a hiss of annoyance, she lifted it with a charm and filled the small cup that sat in the tower. She always had wondered how the detergent managed to make its way out of that cup, but she wrote it off as being one of the world's little mysteries. Not that there were many left anymore.
Refusing to turn around, Ginny began to fling the contents of her basket into the half filled washing machine. She got most of it in, stuffing it with her hands until everything was submerged. She then slammed the lid, grabbing a rag and turned to face the blonde, wiping her hands in the process.
She glared at him, expecting him to say something stupid, but it never came. So instead, she took to opportunity to look at him. He looked tired, worn out. She had no doubt as to why, but it didn't change the fact that he did. His posture was different, dejected and hunched almost. Almost but not noticeable if you didn't know what to look for. Yet even if you didn't know he had lost blood even an idiot could have told that something was wrong by how pale he was. It was as if he had lost most of his pigment, not that he had much to begin with, but now Ginny could almost see the veins under his skin. She repressed the urge to shudder, her eyes finally falling on his impassive ones.
"So," she said slowly, wringing the rag in her hands, taking in the blonde's sneer still in place on his thin lips. "Are you going to tell me what is wrong with you now?"
If she had hoped to get any sort of reaction out of him, not to mention half the amount of rage she had seen before, she was sorely let down. His expression barely changed, only his smirk dropped away. "That is none of your business, Weasley," he replied with a drawl, looking at her with those emotionless gray eyes.
"Like hell it isn't," Ginny found herself hissing back. "You're my Protector. If there is something wrong with you it affects me as well. I have a right to know if something is wrong."
"No, you don't," he replied in much the same tone as last time except that there was a hint of harshness to it this time round. She continued to stare at him as if hoping that if she stared long enough she could see through his head and see whatever she wanted to know. Unfortunately she didn't have that power with the living. Only with the dead. "It's my problem and it does not affect you in the slightest."
"Oh, of course it doesn't," she sneered at him. "Because if you keel over dead when I need you to save me, it definitely doesn't have any connection to my well being." She flung the rag in her hands down on the dryer just as the washing machine stopped filling with water and began its cycle.
"It's not like you would care, Weasley," he continued, the harshness becoming ever more present. "If I didn't know better I would say that they hired me to protect you from yourself and not the Dark Lord. That you are more suicidal than-"
There was a knock at the door and both occupants of the small room turned and looked out into the living room. Without a second's thought, Ginny walked out the door and headed towards the main door. Before she could make it, Malfoy caught at her arm.
"Don't open the door until I know who it is," he hissed at her, pulling out his wand.
With a nod, she viciously tore her arm away from his hand and continued her way to her original destination. She stopped before it and carefully looked out the peek hole to see the distorted world beyond. She was slightly surprised to see who was outside.
"Who is it?" the blonde hissed, standing half a foot behind her. She repressed a shiver at the feel of his breath on the back of her neck.
"My neighbor," Ginny replied slowly, squinting slightly as something in the corner of her view caught her eye. Something small. "And her daughter." She stopped, feeling her heart drop as the feeling of remembering something forgotten overcame her. "I'm supposed to baby-sit today. I forgot about that."
"How could you forget something like that?" he sneered at her, crossing his arms.
"Well, you switch lives with me and see how well things like this stay in your mind," she snarled at him, reaching for the doorknob. He scowled back at her and she pointedly turned to look at the chain on the door. "They're Muggle, Malfoy," she added, pulling the chain back. "So I suggest that you put that away." She waved at his wand.
"So we have to live like Muggles until the brat leaves?" he sneered, putting his wand away as instructed.
"Oh, Malfoy," she chided sarcastically. "It's not that hard really. I think the experience will do you some good." And with this said she pulled the door open to reveal a rather plump woman with her hand suspended in the air as though she had been about to knock once more. She heard Malfoy make his way back into the living room.
"Hi," Ginny said as cheerfully as she could, making eye contact with the woman and the little girl who had a large duffle bag in hand. "Are you sure you got everything?" she asked with a small smirk as her eyes fell on it. "Sure you didn't leave half your bedroom behind?"
"No," the little girl replied, smiling shyly up at her.
"Good to hear," Ginny said with a grin, returning her attention to the mother. "How are you, Martha?"
"I'm doing better than I was," she replied with a slight sniffle. "I've almost fought off this stupid flu." Ginny nodded, smiling as she took in the woman's fancy dress. "The weather isn't helping much though."
"It's been rather foul, hasn't it?" the red head replied, glancing back to the window to see the mud gray sky filled with dark clouds. "I suppose it could be worse though," she added, turning away from the chilling scene. "There haven't been any floods yet."
"Well, I suppose," Martha said, ruffling up her daughter's blonde hair. "Are you sure you're going to be alright with her? She's been a little moody lately."
"No I haven't," the little girl said indignantly, glaring up at her mother.
"See what I mean?" She smiled then it seemed to drop away. "Are you alright Gin?" she asked, concern filling her features. "You look as though you haven't slept in weeks."
Ginny almost winced, but managed to restrain herself. "I'm fine. There's just been a lot of stuff happening lately." She grinned a little. "Things have just been a little hectic, that's all. Nothing to worry about."
"What kind of stuff," her neighbor asked, her face turning mischievous an instant later. It was one of the reasons Ginny liked the woman. She was very entertaining, even when she didn't mean to be. Ginny stared at her then felt her eyes grow slightly wide when the woman waggled her eyebrows at her.
"What?" Ginny asked, glancing behind her. She stopped when she saw Malfoy draping himself down on the couch, looking for all intents and purposes as though he belonged there. Ginny found her mouth had gone dry. "No!" she gasped, turning her attention back to her friend. "I mean- He's gay." She heard Malfoy make a chocking noise from the couch. She ignored him.
Martha narrowed her eyes. "I'm getting worried about you, Gin," she said slowly, filling the roll of concerned friend very well. "First it was the shifty one and now this one's gay? I'd say more but there are little ears about." She glanced down at her daughter who was staring at the man inside the apartment.
"Well, you don't have to worry about the shifty one anymore," Ginny sighed, picking up a piece of her hair and fiddling around with it. "And he's just staying here because he has nowhere else to stay at the moment."
"Oh?" the woman asked, an interested look on her rosy face. "What happened to the shifty one then?"
"I'll tell you about that later," Ginny replied, smirking slightly. "Don't you have to get going? Wouldn't want to be late for your romantic night out, now would you?"
"No," Martha replied, an impish grin now on her lips. "No, I definitely wouldn't."
"I'll be fine, Emaleen will be fine, and I'll see you tomorrow." Ginny held the door open, waiting for the little girl to hug her mum, taking her bag for her.
"We'll try to be here before one," the rosy woman said with a smile. "I know you have that party of your mum's to go to."
"Thanks," Ginny said. "Have fun!"
"Oh, I will," she replied, ruffling her daughter's hair once more, causing her to scowl. "By dear."
"Bye mummy!" the little girl called, then took Ginny's hand and let her take her inside. Ginny paused to close the door, making sure it was locked properly.
She turned from the door, the little girl's hand still in her own, then led her further inside to the living room. She smiled down on her. "Emaleen," she began softly, grinning slightly now. "This is Malfoy. He's going to be staying here too, ok?"
The girl nodded silently and stared at the blonde who stood up and walked around the couch. Ginny watched as Malfoy stood there, seeming a little out of place in her quaint apartment, as she had noticed before, staring down at the little girl. Neither of them moved nor spoke, both looking impassively at each other. Ginny was beginning to get a bad feeling about the entire situation. Perhaps she should have asked if anyone else could have taken the girl. She was beginning to realize just how irresponsible of her it was to bring this child into her situation. What if they were attacked during the night and something happened to her? Ginny didn't think she could ever forgiver herself.
"Does it talk?" Malfoy finally asked, his impassive face replaced by a frown.
"Yes, she talks," Ginny scowled, squeezing the girl's hand in a reassuring way. Then she grinned wickedly at him. "And you are sleeping on the couch tonight."
"Why?" he demanded. "Because I asked if it talks? Because it doesn't seem to be able to." He sneered at the little girl, who, to Ginny's surprise, smiled back.
"No," Ginny hissed. "Because it would be impolite to make our guest sleep on the couch. She might get a cramp in her back, and that would just be awful, wouldn't it dear?" The little girl looked up at her with big blue eyes and nodded, grinning.
"And you don't much care if I get a cramp in my back?" Malfoy sneered, looking distastefully down on the couch. Ginny silently cheered. Perhaps she could get some revenge with this little girl around. There was no way that the blonde could do anything to her since he couldn't use his magic around the Muggle girl or act like the overbearing git that he usually did. She might just be able to take advantage of the situation.
"No," she replied simply, causing Emaleen to giggle. Ginny grinned at him, but he turned his attention to the little girl instead of the red head.
"Oh, you like that, do you?" Malfoy hissed at her, causing her to giggle some more. "Well I hope that some-"
"Malfoy," Ginny said flatly, warningly, looking pointedly at him. He frowned at her, then at the little girl. With a slight huff he moved around the couch again and sat down. Ginny smirked at the back of his head, enjoying her new power, even if it would be short lived.
She felt a tug at her arm and looked down to see Emaleen smiling up at her. "I'm hungry," she said, swinging her arm back and forth, taking Ginny's with her.
"How about some lunch then?" the red head asked, tugging on the girl's arm, causing her to squeal and grab on with her other hand and hold on, laughing as Ginny waved her back and forth.
"Ok!" Emaleen, said happily, swinging her feet about. Ginny felt her heart lighten slightly, as though the little girl was all she ever needed to make her life seem less dark. Less foreboding. Perhaps this is what she was truly saving.
"I'll go get it ready then," she replied, lifting the girl even higher and depositing her on the couch next to Malfoy. She caught his glare and she winked at him. Emaleen jumped down on the couch beside him, swinging her legs.
Without a second glance, Ginny made her way into the kitchen, beginning her quest for Emaleen approved food. The girl was a little on the picky side, but Ginny didn't mind. She knew she had something that might appeal to her tastes. The paused after grabbing her can opener but couldn't hear any sounds coming from the other room. It was either a good sign, or a very bad one. Then the silence was broken.
"What does gay mean?" she heard Emaleen's voice ask inquisitively and Ginny almost burst out laughing. She heard Malfoy choke once more.
"It means that he doesn't like girls," Ginny called from where she stood. She couldn't help it anymore. She just had to laugh. It was the first time she had in a long time, and she felt the cloud over her heart lift a bit more. Perhaps her day was truly starting to look up.
o-o-o
Draco sat there, thinking that perhaps he shouldn't be hearing what he was hearing. That he wasn't worthy. 'You have no reason to think that,' a part of him scolded at himself, but he still felt the same way regardless. It was the woman's laughter. It was a sound that he hadn't heard in over a decade, and even then he wasn't sure if his memory was correct in connecting the laugh to her face. She was laughing now, however, and Draco could just imagine her clutching her sides in the process.
For some reason it made the anger that he still harbored from the morning ebb away slightly. It was irrational to think that a laugh could do this to him, but it was doing it nonetheless, and it made him slightly uneasy. If all it took for him to stop being angry was for him to hear laughing, then he almost wished that he lived in a comedy that made her laugh all the time. Almost. At least that way he would have a way to rid himself of his permanent anger towards certain people. Oddly enough they were all connected to one incident. Or rather, the beginning of it all started after that one incident, that one fall.
He knew he had overreacted when he found her sleeping, and he couldn't help but feel slightly guilty for taking his rage out on her. Draco knew she hadn't been sleeping properly, but it didn't stop the sudden dread that something had been wrong from invading his sense. It hadn't stopped the feeling that he had failed once more in his life. When she had awoken he couldn't seem to control his reaction as the relief and sudden loathing at that very same feeling crashed together. He had just been so angry, and he instantly regretted it.
He did not regret his reaction to his nose bleed however. It was an event that he did not like to share with anyone, no matter who they were. It was nobody's business but his own and his mother's, but seeing as she couldn't even regret the incident anymore, he was all alone. He was alone and he did not need the pity of a Weasley to make it all better. Nothing would ever make it better, as Shaw had insisted was true.
He silently shook his head. 'Whatever happened to stress leave?' he wondered to himself, running his hand through his hair. 'This never would have happened if I was just working with the Weasley and not protecting her.' He was interrupted from furthering this train of thought as there was a tug on his right arm.
Turning his face from the window and downward, Draco looked at the little blonde girl beside him. She was perched beside him, now sitting with her back against the back of the couch, her legs barely reaching the edge of the couch. She seemed small for her age, whatever age that was, but then, it could simply have been the fact that he hadn't been around children in a long time. Looking at her made him seem so big, so disproportionate, compared to her. 'Was I ever that small?' he wondered, frowning at the girl in slight curiosity.
"What's your name really?" she asked him, not letting go of his sleeve. Draco moved to dislodge it, but found that he couldn't bring himself to do it. This alone sent his mind pin wheeling. Since when could he not do what needed to be done? Even if it was simply to get a child to let go of his sleeve. "I know it's not your real name."
He continued to frown at her for a moment than finally gave a slight sigh. "It's my last name actually," he told her, his voice unnaturally soft. 'And where did that come from?' he asked himself in disgust. 'Since when do I have a talk-to-children voice?' The girl looked at him in question, awaiting an answer. "My name is Draco."
"Well that's a funny name," she replied with a furrowed brow. Draco found himself raising an eyebrow in amusement at her expression. She seemed to be thinking very hard and it was almost cute. Though a Malfoy would never use such a term to describe anything, even if the event warranted it. "I think I've heard it before," she added, her brow furrowing further.
"It means Dragon," he offered with a small shrug. He wasn't quite sure why he was talking to the girl, let alone telling her about the origins of his name. Yet he found that as he looked into the child's face that the words and the demeanor just came naturally. If he had had more time to ponder this, he was sure he would be more than a touch perturbed by this.
"Ooh!" the girl suddenly let out a squeal. She got to her feet then and began to jump on the couch beside him. He found his head was bobbing up and down, following her progress. "Draco! Like the dragon from Dragonheart!" He stared at her, having no idea what she was on about, he assumed it to be some sort of Muggle gibberish. Gibberish he wasn't fully sure he wanted to understand.
The girl stopped her jumping just as quickly as she had started it, plopping down next to him, turning to peer up at his face. "But why would they name you after a dragon? You don't look very dragonish to me." She reached out with both hands then and took his own hand into them. It was huge in comparison to hers. She began to twist it and turned it as though searching for something. Surprisingly he allowed her to do it. "No scales. No claws. No wings." Then she dropped his hand and sat on his lap, grinning up at him. Draco stiffened. "Or are your wings under that funny coat of yours?"
Draco glanced down at himself and realized that he was still wearing his black robes. In an instant he mentally swore at himself for wearing something so unmuggle like. But then Weasley was still wearing hers, though hers probably could pass for a dress if she tried to explain it that way. But how could he explain a thin coat that went down to his ankles while he sat inside?
Clearing his throat, he pulled her hands off his robes which she had begun to pull on, sticking her head in as if searching for his wings. "No," he said carefully, pulling a bit more on her tiny hands. "I do not have wings hidden under here. So you can stop looking."
She pouted at him then, her hair slightly staticy now. Draco found himself smiling at her slightly, realizing that no one else could see it but the little girl. The girl started to grin back a little. "Pity," she replied, leaning away from him, but still holding onto his hands, using them to support her weight. "It would be cool if you could fly though. Then you could take me and show me the ocean from high up."
"I suppose I could," he found himself responding, the smile still there if you knew where to look. 'And I would if you weren't a Muggle,' he added to himself, taking himself completely by surprised at the benevolent thought. Perhaps he should make a point of continuing to stay away from children when this was all over, they seemed to make him soft. In a completely unmalfoy like fashion.
"So why won't Ginny call you Draco?" she asked him, changing the subject, still clutching at his hands. "Mum always says it's rude to call someone by their last names."
"Well, Wea-Ginny doesn't really like me all that much," Draco said slowly, looking pointedly at the coffee table. He knew he wasn't the best person to be talking to about addressing people by their last names. It was a habit that he wasn't about to give up anytime soon.
"But you like her, right?" Emaleen insisted, stopping her pull on his hands and simply hanging onto them. Draco turned his eyes back to hers to see her staring at him earnestly. It was almost as if the girl would give everything in the world just for him to say yes. "That's why you're here. You're her friend, right?"
"I suppose you could say that," he began slowly, watching as the girl's face fell slightly. It intrigued him to think of how simple her mind was and yet how much she had taken in of the world already. What would it matter to her if he was Weasley's friend or not, and Merlin forbid he ever became her friend. Yet it seemed to mean so much to her.
The little girl opened her mouth, seeming ready to add something about friends when the Weasley in question stuck her head into the room from the kitchen.
"Lunch is ready," she told them causing the girl to squeal one more. Draco winced slightly, rubbing at his now sore ear. The red head smirked at him, holding out her hand for the girl that was bounding towards her. Draco scowled back at her.
'So this was the way she wants to play it,' he thought darkly, rising slowly to his feet. She was going to use the Muggle girl as protection from him doing anything to her. Not that he did much to her anyway, but he could definitely sense the rebelliousness in the air. She was going to defy him when ever she could and he was beginning to get the feeling that if something went wrong, whether the girl was there or not, things would not turn out well. He had his doubts, however, that something would happen at all.
"Come on Draco!" Emaleen called from the other room and Draco found himself walking at a quicker pace towards the kitchen. Upon entering he saw the two of them sitting at the island with bowls of reddish looking food resting inside. There was also a third bowl, set for him supposedly, beside Emaleen, so that she would be in the middle of the two of them.
"Ladies," he said, tipping his head towards the little girl as he walked in and took the stool next to her. She giggled at him and he could feel the red head's eyes on her. He pointedly ignored her and looked down at the contents of the bowl. Little shapes, which he assumed to be animals, stared back at him, covered in what seemed to be some sort of tomato sauce. He frowned at it. "What is this?" he finally asked, taking the spoon beside the bowl and dipping it into the contents, swirling them around.
"How could you not know what it is?" the little blonde gasped, turning to look at him with large eyes. "This is the best stuff on earth, and you don't know what it is?" Draco mutely shook his head, looking at the little girl. A glance at the woman beside him showed her smirking at him. Oh, how he disliked her. "They're Zoodles!" Emaleen practically shrieked, once again making Draco rub his ear closest to her. "And I love them!"
"Yeah Malfoy," Ginny sneered at him, smirking even more. "How could you not know what Zoodles are?" He could tell that she found it all very amusing and she was doing a very poor job of hiding it.
Draco sneered over the little girl's head, who was contentedly eating her Zoodles. "I guess I lived a sheltered childhood," he said darkly, glaring into the woman's eyes. He saw them widen slightly then she creased them into a frown.
"Well, that's not my fault, now is it?" she replied softly, not looking away from him.
"No," he said simply, and then turned back to the bowl and its contents. The little girl smiled at him, and he grinned back at her slightly. Then picking up the spoon so it had a small amount on it, he brought it to his mouth. Emaleen smiled even more at his expression. It actually wasn't that bad, not that he would choose to eat it of his own freewill if the choice arose.
"See?" the other blonde asked, waggling her spoon at him. "Isn't it good?" Draco nodded. The three of them sat there then, eating from the respective bowls, seeming to respect the silence that surrounded them. It wasn't until Ginny had pushed her bowl away that the silence was broken.
"Aren't you going to finish Ginny?" Emaleen asked her, looking at the half full bowl in wonder. Her own bowl was all but licked clean, and Draco's wasn't far behind. He looked at her, getting the feeling that this was another one of her attempts at making his job harder.
"Yes, Wea-Ginny, aren't you going to finish?" he looked at her pointedly, making sure that she understood his implication. She narrowed her eyes at him then shrugged.
"I'm just not that hungry today," she said with a slight sigh, grinning at the little girl and ignoring Draco completely. "You can finish them if you want dear."
"No, that's ok," she replied, eyeing the bowl as though she was very tempted to.
"If you're sure," the red head replied, getting to her feet and sweeping the bowls away. She went over to the sink and placed them in it, then turned to face the two other occupants in the room. One was looking at her curiously while the other just looked amused. "I'll do the dishes later."
"Why don't you do them now?" Draco found himself asking, smirking all the while. Ginny glared at him.
"No, I think I will do them later," she responded, looking at him coldly. Out of his peripheral vision, he could see the little head turning back and forth, watching the two older people. Draco tried to ignore it, opening his mouth to sneer back. Perhaps she wouldn't have the upper hand after all. "How about a game, Emaleen?" she asked, cutting him off before he could even begin. Draco frowned, but Emaleen bounced about excitedly.
"Ok!" she said happily. "Let's play Labyrinth! I want to be... blue!" Ginny nodded, smiling at the excited girl. Then the girl turned to Draco. "Are you going to play too, Draco?"
He stared at her. Well, he had never really been asked to play a board game before, or any other for that matter. If ever it was because of whomever's parents had made them to keep their associates content, namely his parents. He had never realized it until he had been older, and he hated himself for being so blindly led around. It was probably the denied child within him that answered for him: "Sure," he replied, not even realizing he had said it until it was out of his lips.
Emaleen smiled and scurried off to get the game from the study. He looked up to see Ginny looking at him, an odd expression on her face. He stared back, suddenly not quite sure what he should do. It was becoming a nasty habit today and he was really beginning to hate himself for it. Then the red head smiled slightly.
"I never knew you were good with children, Malfoy," she finally said, a look in her eyes that he could only guess was surprise, and perhaps, admiration – something he had never seen in anyone's eyes, even those who supposedly adored him. He felt his eyes widen the tiniest bit, his mouth opening shortly after. He felt he had to say something, anything, but he never quite got the chance.
"Let's play in here!" the little girl called from the living room, and Ginny pushed herself off of the counter, grinning at him as she passed by. Draco got to his feet and made his way into the room after the red head, not even sure that he was still sane. It was just starting to filter into his brain that he was going to play board games. He, Draco Malfoy, was going to play board games with a Weasley and a child. And for some reason this didn't bother him as much as it should have.
By the time it was all over the three of them had managed to play four rounds of the Labyrinth game (which was a touch more difficult than Draco had expected it to be), three founds of Sorry (Draco never did manage to keep his little pieces out long enough to get anywhere) and two rounds of a game called Life (He wound up in the poor house, much to his disgust and Ginny's delight). Over all it had been a massacre on his ego, and now he found himself sitting rather moodily in an arm chair, trying to read the Daily Prophet. Every time he looked at the woman sitting across from him he was greeted with a satisfied smirk, even if she was reading a book and not even knowing that he was looking at her. He narrowed his eyes and tried to turn his attention back to the paper.
She had laughed again while they had played the games. And to Draco's disgust he found that it had been infectious laughter, for after a while he found himself chortling along with her. She had stared at him funny for it, and he had tried to stop. Malfoy's do not laugh with Weasleys, or that was what he was trying to scold himself for now. But it wasn't working, no matter what he told himself, he still could not deny that he had had a good time laughing and playing board games while with a Weasley.
"It's a ghastly song for children to sing, isn't it?" the woman across from him suddenly asked, making him look up from his unread paper to look at her. She was still staring at her own book, fainting reading, but he could tell she was just staring at it as her eyes were fixed in one place. Draco smirked at her.
"What do you mean?" he asked her, listening for the song she was talking about. He suddenly caught the voice of Emaleen, who was in the Weasley's room entertaining herself, singing to a melody that must have been in her mind.
"Ring around the rosy, pocket full of posies," her voice drifted to his ears. Tilting his head back, so everything seemed upside-down, he looked back into the woman's room. The little girl was spinning around, the light catching in her hair as it flew out around her, reminding him of a sunflower. "Husha! Husha! We all fall down!" With this the petite girl collapsed to the ground, laughing to herself and staring up at the ceiling with a large smile plastered on her face.
Draco tilted his head back upright and looked at the woman across from him and was slightly startled to see her watching him. Her face was rather blank; the dark circles under her eyes that always seemed to be made darker by the hair that was hanging around her face, which was now pulled back, looked startlingly pronounced and translucent in the light. Even with the sunlight coming through the window right next to her she still looked as though she was sitting in a dark corner. It forced Draco to repress a shudder, memories of his previous encounters when she looked like that rising to the surface of his mind. They never leave.
"It's about the Black Plague," she told him, the look fading away the instant she opened her mouth. Draco closed his eyes for a moment. Perhaps he had imagined it and she hadn't looked like that. Looked so haunted. "Can you imagine, having a song for children written after a tragedy, then to have the meaning lost? It seems like an insult to me."
Draco stared at her, getting the feeling that she was talking about more than a plague in her meaning. He couldn't understand what it could be though, couldn't quite put his finger on it though he felt that it was there, somewhere in his mind. He was about to pull the paper back up to his face and continue "reading" in an attempt to clear his head, if only for a moment. A scream from the other room crushed these plans however.
"Emaleen!" Ginny cried, bolting to her feet and rushing to the door before Draco could stop her, also on his feet. He realized in an instant of sheer worry, not unlike the experience from the morning, that if there was something in there, someone in there, he would not be able to stop them in time.
He ran to the door, wand in hand, but stopped short when he saw the small girl in the red head's arm, clinging to her, tears streaming down her face. Draco looked around with the eyes of one trained to notice the unordinary. There was nothing that could be seen as an immediate threat, so he put his wand away as quickly as he had withdrawn it, hoping the Muggle girl wouldn't notice. She didn't.
"What's wrong, dear?" Ginny soothed, rubbing the little girl's back. Draco watched in slight amazement as the girl seemed to calm down, clinging to the woman with a vice grip. After a moment she released one hand and pointed it shakily at the window. There was nothing there.
"It flew away when I screamed," the girl in Weasley's arms explained, a fresh roll of tears traveling down her face. Draco was about to ask what exactly had flown away, once again reaching for his wand. He had no need to though, as the creature once again returned to the window sill, tapping lightly on the glass.
He heard the Weasley take in a sharp breath, and saw her eyes widen. Wordlessly, without taking her eyes off the bird, she gently pulled the girl away from her body and held her out to him. Draco awkwardly reached out and took her into his arms, wand forgotten as she clung to his neck.
"Weasley," he warned, watching as the woman approached the window. "Don't do anything stupid."
"It's alright," she said softly, almost to herself. She reached the window, and then pushed it open, her actions languid as though she was a participant in a dream. The black owl flew into the room, causing the girl around his neck to increase her grip, and landed gracefully on the woman's outstretched forearm. "It's alright," she repeated, slowly, almost carefully, reaching out with her other arm and stroking the bird's head, looking at it in wonder. "Everything will be alright now."
"Why are you petting that bird?" Emaleen sniffled, and Draco found his grip on her increasing. He watched his charge as she closed the open window, turning slowly to face them, a smile spreading across her face, the likes of which he had never seen. It was almost whimsical. Then he turned his eyes to the bird, and something tugged at his memory. Then the something clicked and he felt his eyes widen. 'It can't be...'
"This, Emaleen, is an old friend of mine. His name is Ed," the red head said soothingly. "He's entirely harmless," she continued, petting the bird. "You can pet him if you like." She held her arm forward a bit, offering the bird. Draco watched as the little girl's eyes turned from fear to temptation, and after a few moments one of her arms released his neck and moved out towards the bird. Draco found himself holding his breath as her little fingers glided over the birds feathers then withdrew them, a smile on her face.
"What kind of bird is he?" she asked quietly, once again gripping Draco's neck. He looked on mutely, allowing the girl to ask the questions that he had always wanted answered.
"A black snowy owl," the Weasley replied, looking at the bird with affectionate wonder. "He was a gift from a dear friend of mine. He always loved to give me strange gifts. One year he gave me Ed here, named him for me and everything." Her expression turned distant then, and Draco caught himself wondering as to where in her mind she was going. He further wondered this as her expression seemed to sadden drastically. "I never thought I would see him again."
"What happened to your friend?" Emaleen asked, shifting slightly in Draco's arms. He watched on silently as the woman looked at the bird sadly. "Why doesn't he give you strange gifts anymore?"
"Because he died a long time ago," the red head responded, stroking the bird's head once more.
Silence rung through the air and Malfoy found that he couldn't take his eyes off the woman. She was stroking her apparent bird, a whimsical look on her face and it made Draco begin to wonder. To wonder just how much about her past he really didn't know. Everyone lost people during the war, but she had seen ever single one of those deaths. Had she seem this friend of hers as well? Was this was she was so removed from the world? From reality?
"But let's not dwell on that, shall we?" she asked after a moment, cutting off Draco's train of thought. He looked at her and she was attempting to smile. "What would you like to do now, Emaleen?"
"I want to watch a movie," the little girl in Draco's arms replied, turning her attention from the bird on the red headed woman's forearm to look back and forth from Draco to Ginny. Draco frowned. He had heard of these movies the Muggles enjoyed, but he had never seen one himself. It wasn't exactly one of his high priorities. He frowned at the red head who merely shrugged in response.
She turned to look at the clock resting on the bedside table. It read six o'clock. Draco stared. 'How could it have gotten so late?' he asked himself. He never misplaced time.
"Alright," the red head agreed, smiling at the small girl, still balancing her owl. "But you will have to have a bath first then. So go find yourself a big towel and I'll be with you in a second."
"Ok," the little girl chirped, then turned her attention to the blonde once more. "Could you put me down please Draco?" she asked him, giving his neck a little squeeze.
Draco stared at her. He didn't think he could remember ever having been squeezed like that before. But then, he hadn't held many children before, and the women he had had experience with would never dream of doing such an act. He knew he should have been ashamed of himself for feeling it, but it wasn't that unpleasant of an experience. It almost made him want to be around children more often. Almost.
"Draco," Ginny said slowly, and he realized that both females were staring at him. Impassively he placed the little girl down on the ground without a word and she scurried out of the room. The red head was still staring at him. Draco held her gaze, not letting anything show through. 'Not like there is anything to show,' he berated himself.
The woman sighed then, turning her eyes away from his. "I'll see you in about an hour then," she said, a small smile on her face now.
"What do you mean?" he asked suspiciously, looking at her carefully. He hadn't done this since she had been asleep, looking dead. She had been so pale then, so lifeless. She still looked tired now but there seemed to be some color in her cheeks now, however faint it really was. Perhaps this child had done her some good, not that it mattered to him, of course.
"Well I have to watch her," the woman explained, the smile still on her lips. It seemed to Draco that she was almost amused by his question, or perhaps it was just a trick of the light. "She's not old enough to take a bath on her own." Her small smile then broke out into a grin, and her eyes seemed to twinkle, startling Draco. He had not seen them twinkle since they were both back in Hogwarts and she had beaten him to the Snitch. That had been over a decade ago.
"Unless, you want to go in there. She usually throws bubbles all over the place." Her grin widened slightly. "Imagine the state of her designer robes." Draco remained silent, deciding not to comment on the awkwardness of him having to bathe a child. A child that he barely knew. "Here, just take Ed, will you. There is an owl roost in the main closet. Just put it in here by the window. But leave it open for him, will you?" She then looked down at the bird and gently stroked his head. "Be nice for Malfoy, old friend," she said softly, then transferred the bird onto Draco's waiting forearm. Without a second glance the woman walked out of the room. He heard the bathroom door close a few seconds later, the sound of Emaleen's laughter suddenly muffled.
Draco turned his attention back to the bird, suddenly realizing that his arm was not bleeding as it probably should have been by his lack of arm protection. The talons were sharper than an average owl, but this, obviously, was no ordinary owl. Not by a long shot. He also noted that the bird was much lighter than he had expected it to be.
'Built for speed,' he mused, stroking the animal's head that had once brought him a letter that had saved his life all those years ago.
True to her word, the two of them did not emerge from the bathroom for a good hour, steam issuing forth from the doorway. Draco had spent the time doing the paper work that had somehow built itself up over the week. A mundane task, but one that had to be done. He figured that he might as well do it while his charge was safe and without need of his attention. But now they were out, and the little girl was rummaging through the cupboard beside the master bedroom door. He watched her silently as his charge came up behind him.
"I'm going to order some pizza," she told him, and Draco turned his attention upward. Her face was red enough to make a rival of her hair. Apparently steam was a good stimulus for her color as well. "Or am I not allowed to order food?"
"From where?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.
"Down the street," she replied with a shrug. "You can screen the delivery boy and the food itself. But they're trust worthy. And Muggle." Draco processed this information then slowly nodded. The woman moved into the kitchen and he heard the telephone being lifted from its receiver.
"Found it!" the little girl cried from where she was half inside the cupboard, the bottom of her nightgown pooling at her knees.
"Found what?" he asked her as she wiggled her way out, her wet hair falling about her face. She brushed it away, smiling then held up what was in her hands.
"The Lion King," she said proudly, holding up a rectangular shaped box with an illustration of what seemed to be a lion on it. "Ginny said we could watch it again. We watched it last time I was over too. It's one of my favorite movies." Draco simply nodded.
The girl turned away from him then opened the doors of the cupboard that she had just been crawling underneath. Inside lay the odd box he had first seen when he had inspected the Weasley's residence. He had assumed it to be Muggle, but he hadn't given it much thought. Apparently this was what the movie was on. Though as to how such a young girl could know which buttons to push, (and there seemed to be a lot of them to Draco) was beyond him.
The screen lit up, and cheerful sounds greeted Draco's ears. He stared the screen, disgusted at him amazement with the device. The girl then came towards him and sat herself down beside him, next to the armrest. He looked at her.
"Don't you want to sit beside Ginny?" he asked her, noting that there would be no room for the woman to sit in between the two of them. For some reason this thought bothered him.
"No," the girl replied cheerfully. "She's your friend. She should sit beside you." Draco narrowed his eyes at the girl, opening his mouth to tell her something he probably shouldn't but was interrupted as the Weasley returned.
"So, what are we watching tonight?" she asked, walking into her laundry room. Draco heard the closet door open and close. When the woman returned she had three blankets in her arms. He didn't even have time to question her motives when one was deposited into the little girl's lap and then one was placed in a similar fashion on his own. "The pizza will be coming in about twenty minutes," she added, seating herself on the couch beside him.
"Lion King," Emaleen said, already curling up in her blanket, staring at the screen attentively. Draco looked down on his blanket. Malfoys did not curl up in blankets. Even his mother never did, despite her condition. It was not like he was cold either, so he decided to just leave it where it lay. Neither of them seemed to comment.
Little snippets of movies, which Emaleen claimed were "previews" flashed across the screen, making Draco wonder just what kind of movie this was. He figured he would find out soon enough as the voice inside the box claimed that it was now time for the feature presentation. Dramatic music began to play, and Draco watched as the little girl's face lit up. He turned his attention to the screen and could assume why this was as dramatic music and lush colors greeted his sense.
About twenty minutes later, as promised, the pizza arrived. Weasley handed him a bill of Muggle money and followed him to the door. He was slightly surprised by her correspondence to his rules, but did not comment on the fact. He knew it would only vex her and in turn upset the little girl. Though as to why this was such a big deal to him. He was not quite sure.
The pizza man had been safe, as the woman had claimed he would be, and so was the pizza. Soon they were all seated on the couch again, eating the cheesy food. Draco had had some experience with this food, despite his anti-Muggle upbringing. There had been many times where the people he knew and worked with had dragged him off to various pizzerias, no matter how much he protested.
"My favorite part is coming up," the little girl whispered to him, leaning over as if to make sure only he heard. He glanced down at her.
"Why are you whispering?" he whispered back, ignoring how stupid he looked.
"Because Ginny's asleep," the girl replied. Draco turned to look at the woman, and sure enough, the red head's eyes were closed, her head lolling forward slightly. He wondered how he could have missed that change in state. "Watch," the girl insisted, tugging on his arms. He turned back towards the screen just in time to see the pig and his little friend begin to eat bugs.
Draco started slightly as something landed on his shoulder. Whipping his head to the left his eyes were greeted by the sight of red. Ginny's head had fallen onto his shoulder. He stared at her for a moment, wondering how a person who had slept all morning could possible fall asleep again so early. He moved to remove her, but Emaleen tutted, reminding him far too much of Granger for his liking.
"Don't move her," the little girl warned, frowning at him with childish anger. "She's sleeping."
Draco made to open his mouth and say something nasty about Weasleys but managed to restrain himself. Though as to how he wasn't quite sure. Perhaps it had been the girl's eyes, or the fact that there was something almost comforting about having someone's head on his shoulder. The latter couldn't be the reason though, he would never allow it to be the reason.
And so the Weasley's head stayed on his shoulder as she silently slept away through the movie. It wasn't until the movie was over that he even thought to move her. Emaleen turned the television off and replaced everything as it had been. He looked down at the red head. "Wake up Weasley," he said quietly, once again amazed at his different tone of voice. "You're sleeping on my new bed." He was about to shake the woman awake, but once again the girl shook her head at him.
"You're not a very nice friend," the girl scolded. "A nice friend would put her to bed."
"She can put herself to bed," he hissed, shifting his shoulders slightly, trying to work the stiff muscles there.
"Draco," the little girl whined and he turned to her. "Why won't you be a nice friend?"
'Because I am not her friend,' he thought darkly, but still obeyed the child. Without another word he scooped the woman into his arms, once again amazed by her unnatural lightness, just like the owl. Perhaps it was true what they said about an owner and their pet; there is a connection there that bonds them together. Emaleen smiled her approval as Draco made his way into Ginny's room. The little girl pulled back the covers and he gently placed the woman on the bed.
It was the oddest thing in the world for him, to lay a woman down as though she was something sacred. It was even odder that the supposedly sacred woman was a Weasley and not, say, his wife. He knew then that he was going to have more issues from this job than he had received from any other. And that was saying something.
"Goodnight Ginny," the little girl whispered, pulling the covers to the woman's chin then kissing her on the forehead. Draco stared down at the scene, feeling as though he wasn't really there. Wasn't really partaking in an almost family moment. He never got the chance to feel completely real before the little girl had taken his hand and lead him out of the room, leaving him to close the door, a final glance to make sure there was nothing in the room but what should be. The owl's glowing eyes were the only things that were new to the scene he had observed far too many times over the past week.
A few moments later he found himself tucking the girl into his own bed, once again feeling that he was out of place. That it was not really him partaking in these strange acts that he had no real experience with. Yet somehow he found that he knew what to do, which was a little more than disconcerting to him.
"This bed smells like you," the girl giggled, bringing the covers to her chin and giving off a huge yawn.
"Well I wonder why," he sneered at her, causing her to giggle some more. He made to leave but her little voice stopped her.
"Goodnight Draco," Emaleen called sleepily, and he turned and looked at her from the doorway. She looked lost in the bed that was nearly too small for him. It was as though the large blanket was swallowing her whole, and he felt something inside of him that he needed to save her. But he knew that he couldn't. That she didn't need to be saved. She was an innocent.
"Goodnight," he replied, then stepped back, closing the door halfway so that he could easily check on her.
He made his way into the bathroom, and busied himself with getting ready for bed. It wasn't until he was drying his face with a towel that he really looked into the mirror. The man staring back at him startled him slightly. He had always been told that he looked just like his father, but he had never really allowed himself to recognize it in his features. As he stared at himself now, however, he could tell why people would say it. He had the same pointed chin, pointed nose, blonde hair and pale skin. But there was a difference in him now and he leant closer to the mirror to try and come to terms that it was actually there.
His eyes, the gray eyes that he had always had, with a touch of his mother's blue, were now no longer so gray. No longer so Lucius. They seemed to have lit up, lighting up the rest of his face with them with their new bluer look. Draco was unnerved. His eyes had always been considered blue-gray but now the blue had come out more, was more apparent. He had never seen his eyes change color this much before. Ever. And yet he had heard of it happening to other people before. The intensity of one color increasing when there were extreme emotions involved. But that had always reportedly happened over time, not in the span of a day. It must have been his magical background, or something else. The same something that plagued his very existence, made Weasley want to pity him...
Shoving himself violently away from the counter he was leaning against, Draco grabbed his shirt and headed towards the door. He stopped dead in his tracks as he opened it and saw someone standing on the other side of it.
"Weasley," he hissed quietly, realizing that the door to Emaleen's room was still open. Open and allowing the woman to stand by the frame, still as a statue, staring at the sleeping child almost wistfully. It sent a shiver down Draco's spine. "What are you doing?"
"It's queer, isn't it?" she asked, not moving in any way to acknowledge him.
"What?" he asked, feeling suddenly irritable. He turned off the bathroom light, casting the both of them into shadow. He moved to stand beside her.
"Growing up," she replied simply as though it was the most obvious answer.
Draco found himself staring at her, taking in her surprisingly white nightgown. In all the nights he had spent here he had never seen her wear anything but two piece pajamas that were in all sorts of colors. The simpleness and the sleekness of her new sleeping garments seemed to clash with all that she was, yet at the same time seemed to accent it as well. Accent the pure defender that she was. Draco shook his head. (http/members. all begin so innocent. A simple child. A clean slate," she continued to speak, softly as though she was scared that if anyone but him heard her words the world would fall apart. "And then we all begin to grown, to change. To distort. All the potential we had begins to shave off, to narrow us down until we are who we are."
Draco began to frown at her. 'Has she been drinking?' he found himself wondering, despite the fact that he knew there was no liquor in the flat. But her words and attitude seemed eerily familiar and he didn't quite want to accept what they reminded him of. Perhaps irrational answers would keep the truth from coming out.
"But the world throws unfair kinks into the works, Malfoy," she continued, still looking at the sleeping child beyond the threshold. "Children are so easily influenced. Tom Riddle and Grindlewald. Neville and his parents. Ron and my older brothers." She paused then. "You and your father."
He felt disgust rise up in his stomach at her words. He could not deny that they were true. When he had been a child all he had wanted to do was be like his father. To prove to him that he could be just as good as he was. To make him proud. He closed his eyes for a moment as he once again realized how stupid he had been. How utterly blind he had been to his father's treacherous nature. Realized once again that he had almost become just like him as his childish heart had always desired.
"And who were you influenced by?" Draco asked, shoving his memories away from himself.
"I don't know" she replied, turning to look at him. Draco felt his heart stop. She had those eyes again. The open eyes that lead him in to see the darkness within her. The darkness that threatened to consume him. But he could not look away as he had not been able to the time before. "I've been trying to remember but for the life of me I can't."
o-o-o
A/N: Oooh, supposedly human Draco who was way OOC. Oh well. Sorry for the oober longness, but the next chapter will be more interesting and hopefully shorter. So should the one after that if everything goes according to plan. Anyhoo, thank you for living through it. Your thoughts would be muchly appreciated. :D Oh, and if the link to the picture didn't work, then go to my site, then Fan Art, then Tiny Q, then Scenes and it is the fifth image under "Random Fan Fiction".
Thanks to: Azalai(I love that part. Lallie and I put a tribute to it in our collab), sabacat, Amaya(Well, I think he was a little unassed this time...), aurora borealis1(Oh, I have no problem with Dumblypoo. He's great. I just don't want this to turn into another story where he saves the day since there seem to be quite a few out there...), Lallie(Oh, it was muchly enjoyable. And I am going to make it even more so soon... But I think the thing you weren't supposed to tell was the ending and the middle and the plot since I told it to you while we were book shopping. I remembered something!), DreamGurl-de-Draco, Hplova4eva and storm079(And I won't for a while yet. Hee. But I do plan on finishing this if everything works out in my favor...)