Title: Because He Loved Her
Author: Tiny Q
E-Mail: one_legged_lesbian_seagull@hotmail.com
A/N: Well, this story seems to be the result of three months worth of depression and an urge to finally write something fully. It was initially an odd waking dream I had after studying too much for a German final. What fun. I told myself that if I could remember it when I woke up that I would write it when I got home, and I did so here it is. It changed quite a bit while I was writing it...
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Though if I owned Draco I would never ever ever let him go. ~sighs dreamily~
Because He Loved Her
~*~
Ginny hadn't expected him to be there. But then, who really expects someone to be standing on their porch step, uninvited, staring at your door as if by doing so it would simply open. Well, I suppose someone neurotic might, or a seer, or something like that. Ginny, however, was none of those things, and thus she did not expect anyone to be standing on her porch step, staring at her door, let alone a blonde someone she had doubted she would ever see again.
She carefully approached, her wand ready in her hand. She wasn't sure what he would do, nor was she sure what she herself would do, so she figured she might as well be prepared for anything that might happen. She wasn't quite prepared for what did happen though...
"Can I help you?" she asked, approaching the lithe man, who was still staring at her pink door. She internally grimaced as the paint clashed violently with the red of his shirt. Shaking her head slightly, to clear herself of such pointless observations, she watched him carefully, waiting for him to make a sudden move to attack, or something equally as startling.
Instead he slowly turned to her, his gray eyes wide with – she paused for a moment – what seemed to be fear and disbelief. She bit back a gasp. She had never seen his face this open with any emotion, let alone such an incriminating one. Or what would have been incriminating in his mind.
"Ginny," he said softly, then collapsed into her arms, his head resting against her shoulder.
Ginny froze with shock, her body going ridged all over. Yet she still had the sense to bring her arms up and catch him as the weight of his body on hers increased. She couldn't quite come to grips with it all though. How could he be doing this? Be so trusting? Then something else occurred to her: who had broken him?
It took her a moment to realize that he was saying things, mumbling them into her neck, his breath tickling her pale skin. She shuddered slightly, trying to hear what he was saying. Yet she couldn't make it out, but she knew it was something disturbed after his body began to shake as if he was crying.
But Draco Malfoy never cried.
"What's wrong?" she found herself asking, staring down at his shaking form. All she got for a response was a shake of his head. She knew then, knew with no doubt in her mind, that something was terribly wrong.
"Let's go inside," she offered, shifting his weight, which seemed to be getting ever heavier, so she could point her wand at her door. "Alohamora" she hissed, and the door creaked open, sounding more ominous then any other sound ever could have in that moment. Wedging the door open further with her foot, she struggled to get the man into her flat, resisting the urge to swear.
"You know, this would be easier if you just walked," she said darkly, letting out a puff of frustration. He didn't seem to hear her though, or he was simply ignoring her. She felt more inclined to bank on the latter.
She kicked the front door closed with her foot then hit the Muggle light switch, flooding her hall with light. The seemingly dead weight in her arms only proceeded to burrow his head further into her, continuing his incoherent mutterings. Ginny made her way into her small home, turning the lights on as she went, until she stopped at the couch and gently pushed him into it.
She stared into his over wide eyes as she wrapped a blanket, the one that she usually snuggled into, around his shoulders. He simply stared at her in response, his lips moving soundlessly. She felt her heart drop. What could be so wrong?
"I'll get you some hot chocolate," she said softly, pushing his hair back as she would a child. Then she turned and made her way into her small kitchen.
Ginny was unnerved to say the least. Draco had always been her anchor, her safe haven when it seemed that everything in her world was up in the air, flying around, waiting to hit the ground. He never seemed affected by what happened, though she knew that he was, but he always seemed to be the sturdiest thing that she could possibly cling to. And she had clung to him, for dear life, on more than a few occasions. She had a feeling that the last time she had done it was the reason that he had left in the way he had. But he was back. And he was different.
With a tap of her wand, the mug she had deftly pulled out of the cupboard was filled with warm, thick liquid. She knew he was never much of a fan of the stuff, but she had a feeling, by the way he was looking, that it would be easier to force feed him liquid chocolate rather than solid.
She made her way back into the sitting room, not entirely surprised when she saw that he hadn't moved. At least some things did not change.
Ginny went to the couch and sat down beside the blonde man, staring intently at his face. She carefully placed the warm mug into his hands and carefully watched his reaction. He turned his face slowly down to look at it, as if he wasn't really sure if it was there or not.
"Draco," she said softly, trying to gauge his reaction to her words. "What happened?"
He was silent for a moment, his lips still moving with silent words which she could not hear, which she could not make out on his lips. Slowly, very slowly, he turned his wide eyes to her and he blinked.
"I didn't know where else to go," he said in a voice that sounded rusty from lack of use. This struck her as odd; he always had a nasty habit of not shutting up when he should. She nodded at him, trying to encourage him without actually having to say anything. "You were the only one I could remember ever having been there for me..." His voice trailed off, his eyes glazing over slightly. He didn't say anymore.
"Drink," Ginny commanded gently, nodding to the mug in his hands. To her utter surprise he did, staring into nothingness as he did so. He never did anything that she told him to. Never.
After lowering the drink from his thin lips he turned his wide eyes to her once more. They were really staring to bother her. She was so used to seeing them narrowed with suspicion, or with a sneer, that this all just seemed so wrong. So very, horribly wrong.
"What happened?" she pressed gently with her voice, begging silently, to no one in particular, that he wouldn't suddenly snap. "What went wrong?"
He remained silent for a moment, seeming to survey her, see through all that she was, all that she had become. Become without him. She felt naked under his gaze, yet she couldn't bring herself to do anything about it. She knew that anything she did, no matter what she put in front of her, he would still be able to see.
"They're all dead you know," he finally whispered, looking away from her and back down to the mug.
Ginny's eyes flew wide. "Dead?" she gasped quietly, suddenly scared that if she spoke too loud she would see them. It was irrational, and she knew it, but she still feared it. "Who's dead?"
"Everyone I have ever known," he replied evenly, not looking up from the steaming mug. "Everyone I knew in Slytherin, everyone I knew through work." He paused. "My parents."
Ginny's eyes went wider with every addition he made to his list. She didn't believe it, couldn't believe it. Who could kill all those people? Who could be so malicious that they would murder so many individuals? End so many lives?
"But they spared one person," he added with another whisper. "I don't know why they stopped, but they didn't get her."
"Who?" she found herself asking, sitting on the edge of her seat.
He slowly turned his wide eyes to her and she bit out a startled gasp. "You," he said, so softly that she almost didn't hear him. "They left you while everyone else was put to rest." He continued to stare at her, unblinking. "They left you."
Ginny felt her mouth go dry, so very dry, as if a thousand drinks would never moisten it again. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what it meant. Why would all those people die and she be left alive, safe and sound? Why was she left alone while everyone else wasn't?
"Why?" she croaked, the questions roaring through her mind finding an outlet.
"Because I told them I loved you," he stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Why?" she croaked again, tears were welling up in her eyes, blurring her vision.
"Because I do."
She didn't know what to say. Her mouth opened and closed several times, but everything seemed to stop. It was all so wrong. Everyone had died except for her because he supposedly loved her? But he had told her that he could never love her, that she was everything he could not stand, would not stand. That she was too needy, that she was the personification of everything that he hated. That was when he had left her, left her five years ago, left her to fend off the world on her own. But now he was back. And he loved her.
"Why?" she croaked again, the tears spilling over and sliding down her cheeks. Past the freckles that he had sworn at.
"Because you are everything that I am not," he told her, placing the mug down on the coffee table across from them. It was the first major movement he had made since she had seen him at her door. She did notice this however. "Because you were the only one who would stand up to me, the only one who actually tried to care for me, the only one who truly tried to love me." He stopped then, turning to face her.
He reached out his elegant hand and tipped her chin up and she let him. She felt like a rag doll. Empty. "And I never realized it until it was too late. Until I couldn't get you back anymore. And I was so furious with myself and my arrogance. How could I have not seen you for who you truly are...?" He trailed off.
As he trailed off, Ginny's eyes drifted down towards his chest. It was then that she noticed something that she hadn't before. His red shirt wasn't completely red. There were splotches of white on it as well. She narrowed her eyes slightly, ignoring his penetrating stare, his words that were still dancing in her head, taunting her with what could have been. What should have been. She felt her heart stop, realizing something else that was horribly wrong.
His shirt was soaked in blood. And, looking around, she realized that everything he touched was now stained as well. She looked down on herself to see horrid red glaring up at her. She silently swore at herself for not noticing it before. She slowly lifted her eyes to stare at the blonde man, who was still staring at her.
"Draco," she stuttered slightly, barely daring to ask what she was. "Who- who killed all those people?"
He simply shrugged. "It wasn't that hard," he answered slowly. "After a while I learned to tune out the screaming." He looked down at his shirt as well. "I kept trying to tell them to be quiet, that it was necessary, but they wouldn't listen to me. No one ever had, now that I think about it." He paused. "So I suppose it's not that great of a loss now that their gone."
Ginny felt sick.
She stood up quickly, intending to get away, but everything in the world spun and she found herself falling, falling, falling, before she realized what was happening to her.
What was happening to her?
She hit the ground, hard, and heard a faint thump as it happened.
Had that really been her hitting the ground?
She couldn't quite feel anything, everything was numb. But suddenly she felt, and she was in the air, the numbness going away to be replaced by the soft, worn, cushions of the couch. The warm body that wrapped its way around her shouldn't have surprised her, but it did. Her eyes snapped wide and she stared down at the blonde head once again burrowing its way into her neck. His lips were once again muttering things, trying to seek comfort in her body, like it was sucking it out of her like a vampire sucked blood.
Ginny couldn't move. She didn't even know for certain if she ever could have. All she really knew for certain was that she was his now. He had killed for her. She was his prize. Because he loved her.
~*~
A/N: Well, that was a little, morbid. Honestly, that wasn't the direction I was going when I started. But it just sort of drifted... Wonder what that says about me... Anyhoo, I don't think I am going to add onto this. I think I will scare myself if I actually do... But yes, what did you think?
Oh, and if you are wondering about my other happier stories, I will be getting to them soon enough. I find it very difficult to write soemthing happy when the world just seems too miserable. But things should get better now that spring is just around the corner. So don't worry! I haven't forgotten about them! :D