Ginny sat watching the celebration going on around her and trying to join in, but failing. She was glad Gryffindor had won, but since leaving the Pitch and seeing a figure who could only be the woman Elizabeth Morgan following Draco, she had been worried and a little fearful. What did a grown woman want with him, why had Lupin been unconcerned at her disappearance, but slightly startled at Ginny's enquiry? Did this have anything to do with the explosion, or the werewolf attack? And if it did, was Draco in danger? Was she in any danger? The questions whirled around her head, and she found herself in no mood to celebrate.
She looked over at Ron, Harry, and Hermione, who'd been mysteriously late for the party. I wonder why, she thought resentfully. They'd probably gone to meet with Lupin, who probably knew something. She noticed he'd disappeared quite quickly after her last question to him, and since the Fantastic Trio were always in the thick of things she had no doubt they'd gone and had some secret meeting, or something. The thought crossed her mind that perhaps she could try asking them, just once more. Maybe she could convince them that she could be trusted, especially after the attack by the werewolf. If that didn't prove something, she wasn't sure what would. But right now was hardly the time, especially since they were laughing and joking with everyone so happily. Maybe later on in the evening, when things quieted down, she'd approach them. Right now she just felt like being alone, and decided to go for a walk. Getting up, she crossed to the portrait behind as many people as she could. She didn't want anyone asking her questions, she just wanted to leave peacefully.
Once outside, she wondered where to go. It was still early afternoon, so there wasn't much going on now that the Match was over. Perhaps she could walk over to Hogsmeade? But students weren't allowed to go alone. The trips were together with your House Mates, as a group. She sighed, and settled for sitting by the lake. Walking down the stairs she made her way over to the front doors and stepped outside.
The leaden clouds were thin and strafed, like brushstrokes on a gloomy painting. She walked slowly, savoring the wind as it stirred her hair and bit her cheeks. The usual sitting spot for her and Susan was a short distance away, and as she headed for it, she heard a female voice emanating from under the small copse of trees.
"…like filthy pigs. I wonder how anyone can stand to be in the same room with them, I really do. You'd think that their mother could afford to invest in some fashion sense for them!" Pansy Parkinson tittered at her own joke, and as Ginny silently approached the copse, ducking behind a large oak, she saw Draco standing stiffly, arms folded while Pansy clutched at his shoulder and continued to prattle.
"And there's that girl Rosella, she's in our House. A third year, I believe. Well, I saw her attempting to wear make up the other day, and I simply had to advise her not to do so anymore. She looked positively clownish, she really did! Even Millicent noticed, and that's saying something. But it's like I always tell Millicent, those of us who are truly superior must help the others. That Rosella doesn't have a lot of influence, being a foreigner. Her parents don't even move in the right circles! I was thinking I should talk to her about that…"
Pansy droned on in this manner for several minutes, not even waiting for Draco to reply. Not that he would have, judging from the blank look on his face. If he was hearing a word of what she was saying, Ginny would eat toadstools. She felt a kind of grim satisfaction seeing this. Even when Ginny was arguing with him he was at least paying attention. Top that little Pansy, she thought. Ginny felt a stab of guilt at eavesdropping like this, but she was intrigued. It puzzled her the way he simply stood there and let Pansy talk her nonsense when he clearly had no interest in what she was saying. Why didn't he just leave? Was he somehow obligated to stand there and put up with Pansy's irritating diatribe? She stared at him closely, trying to read the thoughts behind his rain-gray eyes but failing. For once his expression was completely closed off, and Ginny felt her heart soften towards him. Whatever was prompting him to stand there and put up with Pansy's stupidity couldn't be good or right. Ginny suddenly thought of the notion she'd always had of rich people only marrying other rich people. What little she knew of Lucius Malfoy made her think that this might be the case here. Her instincts told her that Draco didn't want this, yet he was standing there and allowing Pansy to talk and talk. To someone as unbelievably stupid and shallow as Pansy Parkinson this amounted to encouragement and Ginny had no doubt that Draco was aware of this. But why put himself through this now, especially since his father was miles away?
Ginny let her eyes drop to the ground, remembering her encounter with Draco in the kitchens. He'd been rude, but their parting words had been more than polite, and the emotions she'd felt stirring in her breast had not abated. She raised her eyes once more and stared at him in a way she'd not allowed herself to do before. His hair was plastered smoothly to his skull, its silvery sheen more noticeable in the gloomy light of the afternoon. His features seemed sculpted from ivory, fine boned and perfect, his slightly arrogant expression giving him an air of worldly knowledge and strength. He was tall, and she doubted the top of her head reached higher than his chin. Her eyes dropped to his hands, studying them as they rested on his arms. They were beautifully molded with long, slender fingers and manicured nails. She remembered when she'd pulled him out of the Tower, remembered feeling his sleek muscles against her. She raised her eyes to his face again, and at that exact moment his gaze fell on her.
Ginny went stiff with shock, her heart pounding and her face flooding with heat as Draco's eyes widened slightly. She was afraid to move lest she call any more attention to herself, but didn't think she could stay there much longer without dying of embarrassment. She felt her mouth open, as if to voice an excuse for her presence in this clearly private conversation, when Draco did something that shocked her even more.
He smiled at her.
Not obviously, as Pansy was right next to him and would have seen it. Just a small ghost of a smile, exactly like the one he'd given her when she'd left the kitchens that night. The pounding of her heart doubled, and she found herself feeling confused and flattered all at once. She smiled back, wondering what was happening to the safe and ordered life she'd led before now. Here she was, smiling at Draco Malfoy, falling in love with her brother's worst enemy.
The thought wiped the smile from her face, and Ginny felt panic spread through her, shoving all other emotions aside. She backed away from the tree slowly; her eyes still locked with Draco's and her mind a jumble of confused memories. Draco Malfoy standing in front of the silver letters proclaiming the Chamber of Secrets opened, his face flushed with excitement. Draco buying his way onto the Slytherin Quidditch team, tossing the vile insult of Mudblood at Hermione. The time he'd pretended to be severely injured by Buckbeak so the Slytherins wouldn't have to play Quidditch in inclement weather, then attempting to goad Harry into tracking Sirius Black himself, when everyone was convinced of Black's guilt as a murderer. And worst of all, his callousness at the news of Cedric Diggory's death, and his pleasure at the rebirth of Voldemort. What was she thinking? She didn't, couldn't love someone so hard hearted! It was insane, she was insane!
Tearing her gaze from Draco's puzzled eyes, Ginny ran back to the castle.
Draco watched in some confusion as Ginny ran to the castle as though being pursued by a dragon. He wasn't sure what had happened. One moment they were smiling at each other, his heart flooding with a now familiar warmth that he only felt in Ginny's presence. Then suddenly she was looking at him with fright, backing away as if he'd sprouted fangs and fur. I didn't even do anything this time, he thought dazedly.
"Draco, are you listening to me?" Pansy's voice interrupted his thoughts and caused him to start.
"Not really," he replied absently, wanting to go after Ginny but afraid to as well. Would she welcome him, or curse him? What had caused her smile to fade so abruptly? Did she, perhaps, return his feelings? But how was that possible when he didn't even know what those feelings were? A stinging smack on his arm caused him to turn angrily to Pansy, who was glaring at him.
"How dare you ignore me like this?" She snapped, her face going red with rage, "Do I have to owl your father again?"
"What?" Draco snapped, his anger rising with this revelation, "Owl my father? That was you?"
Pansy changed her tone at once, "Draco darling, I know it was terrible of me to complain, but I was getting worried at how distracted you've been lately. I told your father that it was probably your studies, but you've just been so irritable and mean lately. I only asked him to talk to you for your own good."
Draco turned fully to Pansy, his expression furious.
"Do you have any idea what my father threatened to do to me?" he hissed, "Let me quote, 'If you don't start showing proper behavior to our friends, I will not hesitate to pull you off of the Quidditch team!' Those were his exact words, and he knows how much I love Quidditch!"
Pansy had the good grace to blush, "Oh Draco, I'm sorry to have caused such trouble. But really," she looked at him slyly, "Perhaps such warnings are necessary when you forget what's owed to the allies of your family."
Draco stared, taken aback by her gall. 'What's owed to the allies of your family'? The Parkinson's wouldn't have half of their power and influence without the Malfoys, how could she dare say that to him? There was only one answer, and that was the fact that Draco's father had already shown favor on this match. Pansy wouldn't have dared such a bold move as to owl his father without being absolutely sure that she would get a favorable response. Her china blue eyes regarded him expectantly; obviously certain that this little reminder would be all she needed to pull him in line.
If he wasn't nice to Pansy, he'd be pulled from the Qudditch team. Lucius Malfoy never issued idle threats, and Draco was once again reminded that his life was to be lived for the glory of the Malfoy name, and the furthering of the Dark Lord's power.
It wasn't really his life then, was it?
Turning on his heel, Draco stalked away from Pansy, ignoring her calls to come back. The fact that she wasn't pursuing told him she was going to owl his father again. It had worked once, and now she knew she had a powerful ally in the battle to force Draco to submit to her. He felt his face tighten, the muscles cramping horribly. His stomach clenched painfully as he imagined Lewis Halford delivering the news that he was to be cut from the team. The stupid prat will get a joyous kick out of that, he thought bitterly. It might happen as early as tomorrow, and he felt a helpless rage fill him. He didn't see where he was going; he just kept walking as his mind buzzed with disjointed images, thoughts, and feelings. Before he knew it, he was standing before the main entrance to the Quidditch Pitch. He stared silently for a moment, feeling his heart ache at the thought of never entering this place as a competitor again. Then he slowly walked inside.
The stands rose around him, as they'd always done, their emptiness and silence strange and a bit unnerving. He never noticed it during practice because he was too busy learning new moves and perfecting old ones. But now it struck him as wrong, because it should be filled with laughter and cheers. He tilted his head back and stared at the afternoon sky, imagining all the battles he'd fought up there. How many times had the thrill of flight energized him, inspiring him to fight his hardest for the snitch? But even there he hadn't been free of the bitterness that caused him to compare himself to others. It had been years before he'd been able to stop trying to knock other Seekers off their brooms, and just concentrate on finding the Snitch. He'd never been able to completely overcome the tendency, especially when he was facing Potter. Why? Because he was the Malfoy heir, and it was his duty to show off his superiority.
It suddenly seemed like the stupidest reason in the world to do anything.
Or was it because he'd never felt he'd done anything well enough to please his father, his mother, his teachers, and had been determined to humiliate others to get some kind of retribution? My life will be sacrificed to glorify the family honor, he thought. Marriage will be made with a suitable partner out of duty and the expansion of power, to the benefit of both families. Love was not an option, or even an issue. Happiness is not in question, because doing one's duty should bring happiness. This is my path, chosen by my father.
Draco's rage threatened to choke him; he never noticed the figure that entered the Pitch behind him.
He suddenly thought of Ginny, with her strong will, courageous heart, and generous nature. She wouldn't be forced to marry a man just to raise her family's fortunes, and she would never allow anyone to threaten her just because they thought she wasn't being a good enough Weasley. He remembered the fear in her eyes as she'd faced the werewolf, but she hadn't run. Draco was certain that, in her place, he would have. It shamed him, a beautiful girl possessing courage in measures he couldn't begin to comprehend. She would never allow Lucius Malfoy to rule her life.
And neither will I, he thought determinedly. The choice was his, he now knew, and he could either bow to his father's will, or find his own path. That's what Snape meant, he realized. He was choosing to be free, to live his own life. And this choice was going to define his person for all time. Success or regret about this decision was entirely up to him.
As his thoughts reached this giddy height, he heard a soft noise behind him. Before he could turn, strong hands seized him, one clamping over his mouth, the other grabbing his middle and lifting him off the ground.
"Pleased to make your acquaintance Mr. Malfoy," a cold, accented voice laughed in his ear. Draco struggled to free himself, but the man's grip, for it had been a man's voice, was strong as steel. The stranger allowed Draco to struggle for a few moments, and then began to laugh. The sound sent chills down Draco's spine, for the voice held a sibilant quality that Draco had heard only once before, when his father had had dealings with Vampires in league with Voldemort.
"I would like to ask you to stop struggling, Mr. Malfoy, but it's so amusing that I think I'll let you continue." The Vampire began to walk to the far end of the pitch, and Draco saw two more figures emerge from the shadows, a man and a woman. The woman had short blonde hair and brown eyes, was of medium build and had a cruel expression. The man had very long, dark hair that was braided with feathers and an odd assortment of decorations. He reminded Draco of an ancient Celt. Unlike the woman, he looked worried. Both were deathly pale, their veins almost clear in the late afternoon light, increasing his suspicion of their being Vampires.
"Is this the boy?" he asked curtly. The woman laughed.
"Who else would it be? He fits the description perfectly. A fairly tall blond with gray eyes, hair plastered to his head." She pointed her hand at his throat and began to speak;
"Selo le Boca!" she cried, and Draco felt his throat tighten strangely. At a gesture from the woman, the man holding him uncovered his mouth. Draco tried to cry out, but no sound issued from his throat. Once again, the woman laughed coldly.
"Yes, I've sealed that loud mouth of yours, Mr. Malfoy. Can't have you giving us away, can we?"
"We should go," the Braided Man said, "They could be watching—DAMN!"
Draco was tossed roughly to the ground, his head held down as ropes were swiftly wrapped around his wrists and ankles. From somewhere beside him a magical explosion tore the dim afternoon's silence. The Vampires began to speak rapidly to each other, and then the woman cried out another spell. Draco looked up and saw a fireball erupt from her hands just before he was picked back up and carried a short distance to a large box, where he was unceremoniously dumped inside. He struggled against his bonds, trying in vain to holler out to whoever was attacking the monsters. But his voice was gone for the moment, and he doubted it would have been heard anyway as the magical explosions suddenly increased. What in the name of heaven was going on? Why was he being kidnapped by vampires, and why were they walking in daylight? Panic was pressing down on him, as was a strong dose of claustrophobia. He wriggled furiously and managed to get his bound feet from under him, then began kicking the box lid. To his surprise it flew right off, and the darkening sky met his gaze. Recovering quickly, he began to rock from side to side, tipping the box over after a few moments and wriggling out. He looked up to see two figures firing spells out of their wands at the Vampires. One of the creatures, the one who'd been holding him apparently, since he didn't recognize him, was lying unconscious on the ground. The other two were backing up, continuing to fire spells. Then Draco saw the unmistakable figure of the headmaster striding up behind the first two wizards, his wand pointed straight at the Vampires. The Braided One turned wide eyes on the Blond Woman, speaking even faster than before. The woman launched another fireball, then turned and cried out another spell. A magic carpet suddenly floated to them, and they jumped on it while it was still a good five feet away. The woman turned and looked at the box, eyes widening when she saw it lying on its side. When she saw Draco, she pointed furiously at him.
"This isn't the end, Malfoy! We shall return for you!"
The carpet shot away, leaving the unconscious vampire behind, and a confused, frightened, and furious Draco Malfoy to glare after them.