Author's Note: I am feeling a little romantically tragic and needed to expel it as best I can! So sorry if this chapter does not live up to my previous standards. Also an apology for taking so long.

Inclination

Chapter Ten

Empty of reason, void of logic, we wander through the tangled path of love blind. No longer does the detail of the overall picture matter. We become consumed by the colours; vivid, bright, overwhelming. They fill our senses making us mad with blemished feeling. Blind with eyes wide open…

'As I recall this is exactly what I didn't want to happen.'

'Nature does as nature will.'

'And what on earth is that supposed to mean? I specifically said that you were not to have any sexual liaisons with Hermione. In fact I also recall you saying that it would never happen. What kind of fool am I to believe you! I should have known that you would disregard everything we had discussed and be led around by your…your…' Ginny waved her hand in the direction of his groin dramatically. 'And if that wasn't enough instead of taking responsibility for your actions, you blame nature!'

'I can't help it if I have animal magnetism Weasley.'

'For Merlin's sake Malfoy! You're supposed to be taking this seriously!'

Draco leant back in his chair and smirked indiscriminately. 'I realise that you may find this difficult to believe, but I am a mortal man. Like mortal men there are certain things I cannot control. For example I can't make the sun rise an hour later or turn back the tide. In this instance I was unable to control my natural urge to repopulate with the nearest female. With this in mind I think you'll find that it's impossible to deal blame on anyone other than nature herself.'

'Cut the crap Malfoy. You…initiated physical relations because you are a conceited pig who has no concern for Hermione's well being,' Ginny snapped in a measured response. 'Seeing as we're talking about your inabilities as a human being I might as well mention that you are weak and inferior to the power of the Dark Lord. Whilst you were bidding natures will a bigger force could have come over you.'

'I'm fully aware of that.'

'Don't even think of telling me you have it all in hand.'

'Do I sense a touch of jealousy? Because there's plenty of me to go round Weasley…that is if Potter isn't doing it for you, of course,' he drawled with mock seriousness. 'Or maybe you'd prefer Blaise to service your needs.'

Ginny growled between gritted teeth. 'I have tried to be civil with you Malfoy but you are impossible. Is there nothing that can make you see the enormity of what you've just done?'

There had been times in Draco's life when life had been far from a bed of roses. One of the most vivid memories he had was of the time he had to prove himself a faithful Death Eater. Not many wizards had truly thought of the meaning of "Death Eater", but for Draco it had weighed on his mind since he was a small boy. As a follower of Voldemort he would have to eat death itself, allow it to consume him so he was death itself. Like the dead you became hollow of anything that could be described as wholesome or good. You lost the part of you that felt anything. Like a zombie you roamed through life despising everything beautiful around you. So Draco had to prove to everyone that he could be the bringer of death whilst remaining dead to everything himself. Even now he could feel the blood congealing around his fingers and the spatters that had intruded his taste buds. Even now he could hear the pleads of mercy echoing through his nightmares. Even now he could feel his stomach turn at the red heap that lay in front of him, no longer human.

All of this had taught Draco something; when the memories became actions of self harm, inflicting themselves upon him physically so he could feel their pain, he had to laugh. If he didn't laugh then he would die of one thing or another. Laughing allowed him to forget…allowed him to be at peace. How could something be so wrong if you could laugh afterwards?

A week had passed since he had spent the night with Hermione. A whole week of sitting solitary in his room and ignoring his own pulse. Just as it was difficult to forget you were alive, it was difficult to think of anything other than the passion. He had been overwhelmed by how he'd felt as she lay beneath him, enjoying him and pleasing him at the same time. An urge to protect her had come across him and now lurked beneath every thought he had. If only he could rescue her…but from what? Ultimately it was from himself and it was this truth that was beginning to tear his purpose apart.

'I can't take the past back Weasley,' Draco murmured softly. 'I can't go up to Hermione and ask her if I could take back the fantastic shag. What happened was beyond the tangible.'

Ginny remained silent for a moment and looked down at the papers on the table before her. 'Beyond the tangible? How tragic and romantic of you Malfoy. I suppose it makes all the difference if there is real feeling behind the whole thing.'

This had not been what he'd expected to hear from Ginny who was a self-confessed neurotic. He'd expected guilt lined fireworks and shouting that would penetrate the walls of Azkaban. 'Really?' he questioned with a frown.

'No. Not really!' she angrily shouted at him, rising from her seat. 'You have utterly screwed this whole mission up! It would have been better if you'd remained the cold-hearted bastard that we've always known you to be! But no, no, no. The great Draco Malfoy chose to be the dashing romantic hero that would sweep her off her feet in a…a…hurricane of "tangible" experiences! Now you're a sodding emotional…NUMPTY!'

Her face had become so red that Draco could no longer distinguish the freckles that were scattered across her face. Part of him wanted to laugh at this image, but the other part knew that the day Ginny called him a "numpty" was the day he'd really crossed the line with the Ministry.

After a couple of days had passed, and the joy of the event had faded into worry, he received a letter from Hermione. At first he had been reluctant to open it; he knew her too well and feared the eventual rejection when she came to her senses. He wanted her to want him in the same way he wanted her. No one had ever really wanted or needed him except her and she had become the cause. However he had always been a fatalist and hoped that he would be proved wrong. After seventeen hours he allowed the letter to breathe into life.

D,

I haven't seen you in two nights. I'm suffocating in my deceit and the only one I can talk to, the only one who understands me, is missing from my life. I'm an island. I won't say I need you, but I do need to be frank with you. This won't make much sense but I feel that if it did it would only hurt me more. He wants to marry me. He wants to be part of me. I can't breathe anymore. He's all smiles and declarations of love. But I can never again allow him to live in my rotting heart. I love he that is made of clouds even though I can never catch him in my hand. He will never be realised and that's why I aspire to his love. This other love is now foreign to me. What once was…once was we all are. Merlin, I can't make head nor tail of this whole letter and yet I need you to feel my thoughts.

Two nights have passed and I cannot stay awake. I know I'm in some waking sleep and only you can shake me of it. I wander the halls at night and wonder whether you'll pull me into some dark classroom and kiss me like you did the first time. Our past is so beautiful and strange and tragic. I can't escape it anymore and I don't want to. I hate the reality that I am. "Am" is such a strange word. Am I?

He wants to marry me. Me. This thing that I am. Am. How can I escape being what I am. It determines me so. I cheated him of the perfect love by giving in to the dream. He wants to marry something that doesn't exist. This person he thinks he's so lucky to be with is no longer connected. She's inaccessible. So who am I now she's gone? I feel you're the only one who can answer that. You always knew me even when you hated me. You see past all the disguises and I hate you for it.

Hate. Why do people never sign letters with hate instead of love? Surely such a strong emotion has some standing? I hate you because I love you. Two words entangled. They've become one. I can't even bring myself to dislike you!

I told him I slept with another man. He wants to forgive me. He wants to marry me. I can't make him hate me. He knows not of the love hate inspires. He asked me who and I said you, but not your name. I called you "the other man" and a "mistake" - anything to save myself from his love. Fool. That is who I am. I told the truth in reverse. He still wants to marry me.

You once told me that I was love. For a time I thought it was sentimental rubbish that meant something to an adolescent who felt more than his body had known. I was wrong. We meant it like we still mean it now. We're still crying in each others arms, and whispering in the dark. You were wrong too though. I am not love; this is what you are. I am hatred.

So I won't say that I need you. I won't say that I can't live without you. They are unspoken between us.

As I write this I know it is not the last time I will see you. It probably isn't the last time we'll speak, but I know that it's the last time we will be love and hate. Soon the two will become untangled. Isn't is funny that hate and love combined is "have"? We will never have one another again.

You walk in circles in my head still. Merlin I need you. I can't live without you. I'm a contradiction in terms without you.

Can I marry him? I need you to be my friend. No, my lover. Can I marry him?

H.

It was a breathe that shook a part of him he thought had been numbed by all the experiences he'd felt. Was it his heart or his soul that suddenly shivered within him? She was so completely vulnerable and exposed to heartache. He was the cause, just as she was his. They had become one person in her eyes and she could no longer tell which part of her was her. Whilst she seemed to know this as a fact, Draco knew that there was one thing standing between their union. The truth.

When he had taken her up to his room all he had been able to hear was the pounding of blood in his ear. He became oblivious to the surroundings or situation; suddenly he was eighteen again and they were fulfilling their teenage angst. Except it wasn't teenage anymore. They had both grown and things had happened that changed the whole experience. He had been desperate to keep the night forever by making her stay longer. It had dawned on him that time was outside his own reality where a single moment could be infinity.

All the while though there had been a dark cloud looming overhead. Voldemort could strike at any time forcing him to kill the one thing he wanted to exist. By not telling her the truth he had taken away her choice of life or death. If he had told her of the awful dreams he had about them together, would she have gone with him? Would she still love him? Have him?

'This is not about Hermione. This isn't even about you or me. This is about protecting a world who will never know they have been saved. We represent all that is good - maybe not pure good, or right good, but a good that wants life. If we fail now then there will be nothing left to live for,' her voice was soft and rebounded off the cold, hard walls of the dungeon. 'Do you want them to feel what you feel everyday?'

'I don't feel,' he said coldly. 'I simply exist.'

Ginny shook her head solemnly. 'There must be a reason why you do this.'

'And what if there isn't? Does that make my sacrifice worth any less?' he looked at her questioningly. 'Maybe for me it's simply a means of surviving? It's this or be constantly chased by auror's who want to lock me up in Azkaban. This makes my evil deeds seem…credible.'

He had expected the visit from Ginny from the moment Hermione had left the room. There was no doubt in his mind that Dumbledore had allowed them to bug his room in order to maintain the high security of Hogwarts. They had probably watched the whole thing. What he hadn't expected was for the visit to come so long after the event. It was probably pity. Better let the poor bugger have a few days of moping before we send him to his death.

Ginny had been an ally since he had helped her in the last year of Hogwarts. When they had started working together he had thought of seducing her, making her part of him, but he had been able to betray Hermione with someone she knew. Instead he'd decided to become the closest thing he could to a friend. He had bought her a present for every birthday and Christmas and even done some of her missions for him. In essence she had become his touchstone. Now though he knew he was going to have to abandon her.

'There's something I must do before I leave,' he said sternly, looking her straight in the eye. 'And don't pretend like you don't know what I'm referring to. I know that you will have been duty bound to report my error to the Order and the Ministry. I have put the mission in jeopardy, even I can not deny that. I will go quietly, I won't even complain, but you must allow me to speak to her before I go.'

'Malfoy…' she faltered. 'I shall be straight with you. The Ministry are outraged by your audacity and lack of respect for their ruling. They have ordered that you be sent out to replace Snape as the mole.'

'Fudge didn't even have to try and corrupt me,' Draco said with a cold chuckle.

'He is the one who swayed the Ministries ruling. The argument is that you are putting civilians at risk. Blaise has been called for and will arrive tomorrow,' she paused. 'None of us want this Draco.'

'I'll be dead by the end of the week.'

'The Order has been fighting this decision ever since the incident…'

'Do you think she'll go to my funeral?' he looked down and toyed with the end of his robe. 'Or maybe they won't be able to find enough parts of me to bury…'

'We have tried everything to get in contact with Snape. Even Dumbledore is starting to give up hope on his returning. There was even mention of involving Harry in tracking him down. In the end it came down to whether they send you…or him,' her voice started to shake slightly with emotion. 'They said you had more skills.'

'Heaven forbid they should lose precious Potter,' he muttered bitterly. 'Better send a real man.'

'We've also tried to lessen your chances of being exposed. Dumbledore's trying to organise a reason for him sacking you…'

'The moment they know I'm beyond these walls, I'm dead. They aren't stupid Weasley. My father will know that the Ministry are sending someone out after Snape and my arrival will be too obvious a coincidence. Don't worry yourself about it though. This is not your fault,' Draco looked up suddenly. 'This is my own fault. I knew this would happen. Maybe that's why I did it.'

As he looked at Ginny's face, he could see the tears welling in her eyes. She could see past all the official crap; he was not going to survive.

'It's a good job you're so expendable then, isn't it?' she sniffed as a tear rolled down her cheek.

…we are stranded upon the rim of reality. Fantasy and certainty become lost in the hearts desire to attain happiness. We risk it all. Our fingertips graze the starlight's smoulder, our souls fill themselves with enchantment and we reach nirvana. Yet the wintry stone of self-preservation shatters the dream. To love is to truly hurt…