Author's Note: Guess what? I'm alive! Miss me? I was over at Protkey.org re-uniting myself with my favorite shippings. And I've joined the Ron/Luna bandwagon. And I am so not shipping Hermione/Draco anymore. And I saw the 3rd Movie. And WAAAAAAAH Daniel Radcliffe is in love! NOOOO! He was supposed to WAIT for MEEEEE!!!! Ahem, anyway...
I Wish...
Chapter Eight
Would You Like Some Tea With Your Kidnapping?
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It is just as we feared. Draco has lost his mind and has brought a Weasley to the mansion. What action should we take? Surely this means he is refusing D.E. admission!
--L
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I will take care of it.
V
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Ginny had the distinct feeling she wasn't very welcomed. However, with Mr. Malfoy glaring at her from across the table and Rochelle glaring with just as much venom from beside her, she couldn't imagine where she got the idea from.
The only person who didn't seem to mind her presence at the table was Draco, but he was too busy stuffing his face to notice anything that was going on. Ginny turned to him, about to ask if she could go eat in her room, when her eyes caught sight of a reddening bruise on his cheek.
"What happened?" She whispered. Draco looked at her and she motioned towards her own cheek. His hand flew to his in alarm before he regained his composure.
"I... Hit my head on something." Ginny saw Lucius's eyes flash from across the table and knew there was more to it than that, but she didn't push it.
"Okay. Did you put something on it?" He nodded briefly, but Ginny doubted he was telling the truth if his refusal to meet her eyes was anything to go by. "Can I go eat in my room? I don't like the death glares I'm getting."
Draco raised an eyebrow, looking from Rochelle, to his father, then finally back at her. He leaned over and kissed her forehead.
"Whatever you want, love." Ginny smiled, even though she knew it was all for show, and got up, picking her plate up with her. Giving Draco one last look, she turned and walked out of the dining room.
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A week later, Draco was fed up, Ginny, was bored, and Rochelle was being a pain in the lower regions.
Rochelle, in a desperate attempt to get Draco to love her and not Ginny, was stalking him everywhere and he was almost sure she had some kind of spell on his shower that allowed her to see him while he was in there, which resulted in an irrational fear of baths.
Draco, in an attempt to keep Rochelle away from him the only way he knew how, had locked himself up in his room and refused to come out for any reason whatsoever, something that wasn't difficult since he had a bathroom and refrigerator in there.
Ginny, while trying to keep Rochelle away from Draco and trying to get Draco out of his room and failing at both, was left by herself to roam the halls of Malfoy Manor, alone, with no company, no one to talk to, and nothing to do.
Which is why, when she came back to Draco's room and found the door open and the room empty her first thought was, Maybe there's something interesting in there.
There room was, indeed, empty. It was also neat as a pin, which didn't too much surprise Ginny. She didn't figure Draco as the kind of person to wallow in his own filth. It was also covered with mirrors all over. Another thing that didn't surprise her, knowing how arrogant and vain the boy was.
There was a fireplace under the huge window and his bed was in a corner near a mahogany desk and there was a parchment with a half-finished patch of writing on it.
Ginny picked it up and read:
Dear piece of paper that I'm going to burn in the next few seconds because I can't afford to have Lucius find it,
I do not want to be a Death Eater. Father wants me to, of course, but I don't see the point if Voldemort—Ginny flinched—is going to kill you anyway if you displease him or if he feels like it. Why's it so important for me to become one anyway.
And this weird stuff with the youngest Weasel is getting on my nerves, too. I mean, what was that kiss about. I think I should be alarmed that I actually enjoyed it. I'm not even thinking of her as an annoying brat anymore. And that's annoying in itself.
I'm getting sort of hungry. The fridge ran out of food awhile ago. But Rochelle might be out there and if not her, then Ginny wanting to talk. Or Lucius waiting to hit me again. Or—
"What the bloody hell are you doing in here?!" Ginny flipped around, dropping the parchment as she stared into the flaming gray eyes of Draco Malfoy. He stormed into the room, slamming the door behind him and narrowed his eyes, snatching up the parchment and tossing it into the fireplace before grabbing her arm. "How much did you read?!"
"I-I-I'm sorry… I just… I was afraid that maybe… And you've been avoiding me all week and I wanted to know why and I came back and you weren't here and I got scared and besides I was bored and you shouldn't leave your stuff out for people to find anyway and what do you mean your father wants you to be a Death Eater? And is your family in close contact with Voldemort because if you are, you should tell Dumbledore and—"He cut her off with a fierce kiss lacking in passion, fueled by anger. When he pulled away, she was shaking.
"Get out of my bedroom, Weasel. I've told you a million times that I don't need your bloody help so get the hell out of my room and out of my life like you were before! I'm ONLY doing this because of our agreement and as soon as the holidays are over I'm shoving you back into the safe arms of your oh-so-wonderful brother and hexing you the next time you come near me, got it?" Ginny's eyes glistened with unshed tears and they locked eyes. Draco ignored the pang of guilt he felt, keeping his face impassive. "Get out."
Teary-eyed and shaking, Ginny left the room.
Draco sank down on his bed, running his hand through his hair and staring after her, the guilt growing from a pang to an all around bad feeling. I'll apologize later, he told himself.
However, he never got the chance because, later, Ginny was kidnapped.