Frozen Fire Chapter Two

Draco grinned with pleasure, watching as her eyes swam with shame, as she turned her head to the floor. Her hair laid limp about her face, her legs shaking wobbly. He felt a spurt of joy.

"Don't, just don't…" she trailed off quietly as she ran her hands up and down her arms as if to warm them. She's shivering? Draco asked himself as her meek face remained looking at the floor, her eyes not even daring to cross his shoes.

"Don't what, call you by your name? Then what do you suggest I call you?" he spat with annoyance; this was nothing like he planned their next meeting would be. She was immeasurably disappointing; she was a lack of spirit. Certainly not the girl he had ran into years ago. No, this had to be an impostor.

"Whatever you like, it doesn't matter to me," she sighed, turning her head up to him. "All I know is I'm not Virginia Anne Weasley anymore," her doe brown eyes stared past his face, glazing over with tears. The liquid ran down her face, tracing a path amongst her freckles.

What is she doing? Why is she bloody crying, she should be glad not to be a Weasley anymore…? Draco didn't understand, then again, she did not expect him to. Nor did he understand why she wouldn't look at him.

"Look at me damnit!" he cursed, forcefully pulling her chin up so her eyes would look into his own, but she closed them. A pang of frustration shot through his bones. She isn't worth this; I don't know what he sees in her! But Draco never did see what the Dark Lord saw in Ginny, past or present.

"No, that is one thing I won't do. I will not look at you, not you or him. Not after what you both did to me," she snapped, pulling her head from his grip, turning it to one of the gravestones. Draco was stunned speechless… What in Merlin's name did I ever do to her?

"If you need to reach me," she began, pulling out her wand, "I'll be here." A sharp bang indicated a piece of paper flowing out of the tip of her wand. On it had her address. She let it flutter to her feet before disappearing with a soft 'pop'.

Draco reached down, touching the paper. He recoiled upon the hot shot of pain that flew through his arm. She had cursed it; he knew it. Charming the piece of paper into his pocket, he disappeared as well.

Inside the main hall of Malfoy manor Draco stood, just in the doorway. His mother came rushing up to him, kissing him on each cheek; blabbering about one thing or another. He didn't seem to notice. The only thing he heard, apart from his footsteps, was Ginny's voice ringing with anger, accusing him of something he had no idea of.

His eyes closed, not afraid of tripping or missing a step, he wanted to think. Draco knew the manor inside out, it was as if it was part of him, and he knew every bit of himself he could; though he was only able to see the obvious.

"Don't you agree, dear?" Narcissa asked, her big, blue eyes opening wide. She tapped him lightly on the shoulder, a cross look coming over her face. She huffed, crossing her arms. "You know, you're acting just like your father when he came home from those meetings. Honestly, I don't see what's so dreadful about them; but they must be if you don't even listen to your mother!" she grumbled angrily.

"Thank you, mum, and they are quite vexing. Now what was it you were asking me?" he asked nonchalantly, still not really listening to her. All she did was gossip, she barely even noticed when her husband died.

"That Weasley girl, she's been missing for ages, and all of a sudden, she pops up in Diagon Alley. The shop was all talk this morning. I mean, really, if you were going to get kidnapped, you might as well do it right and be killed, or something. What a waste of time, being forgotten and all, just to come back into proper society and shock the living daylights out of everyone. Probably just seeking some attention, you know those Weasleys, always looking for attention; though I don't blame them, with such a huge family and all…" Draco had tuned his mother out. So she had ran away? The pressure had to have been too much for her; she's too weak, I knew it! Draco laughed to himself.

"But then again, Stami was telling me that she heard from her sister's hair dresser that the girl actually went away on her own. Supposedly it was something really nasty. I think Potter may have turned her away from him and then rest of that lot followed, shunning her. What do you think?" she finished, looking at her son again.

"The latter," he mumbled, stalking off to the study, locking himself inside. Indignant, Narcissa stomped away.

A quill sat in Draco's hands, a parchment next to him on the oak desk. He didn't know who he wanted to write to, not even bothering with the small detail of what he even wanted to write. All he knew was that he had been drawn to take the items out as soon as he sat down in his father's old dragon-hide chair. Letting the quill drop quietly onto the desk, he leaned backwards, folding his hands behind his head.

It was an odd situation he had managed to get himself into. Being tour guide for the Dark Lord wasn't a position he normally filled, but then again she needed a tour guide. What he couldn't understand was why he was chosen to be that guide. Why not someone else? There were plenty of other people who would have done a much better job. He could have even assigned another traitorous Gryffindor to lead her around like a pathetic dog on a leash. Finnegan, for example, would have been perfect for her.

She wasn't even spicy anymore. More like dead fruit, which had shriveled up from not enough sun, or something of the like. This girl, no woman, wouldn't be of any use to his master. Not unless he wanted a lustful pleasure, but Draco would not bring himself to imagine such a feat.

She was so old, but young at the same time. Her looks had aged, but she still very much acted like a child. One who was longing to go out to play, but had to stay inside because they had a cold. She was so delicate, but rough. Cold but warm. Draco couldn't describe her; she was too deep and controversial to really understand. One moment she would be one thing, but in a matter of seconds would change to the exact opposite.

Only one thing seemed to trigger the change in emotions. The simple thought, glance or even mention of himself and his master. Draco's stomach churned uncontrollably, a feeling he had never felt before settling in the pits of his stomach. Bolting up in his chair, he stormed out of the study, slamming the door loudly behind him. A nearby house elf jumped with a loud squeak, scurrying off into a corner to avoid his master's sure blow.

Draco spat at the creature, bursting into his mother's room. Sure enough, she was hurriedly scribbling owls to only God-knows-who. He cleared his throat as to get her attention. Her porcelain face turned up to him, a smile growing across her lips. She put down the quill and parchment, standing up to greet her son.

"Draco, darling, so glad you managed to make time for me!" she grinned evilly, kissing his cheek. He grumbled under his breath, softly kissing her cheek.

"Yes mother, but I wanted to know more about this Weasley incident…" he trailed off, the look on his face made entirely of cruelty.

"Why? You want to attack the poor thing with her past?" his mother asked, batting her long eyelashes.

"Precisely," Draco sneered, a light laugh emitting from the end of the word.

"That's my boy, I had wondered where you had gone!" Narcissa cooed, pulling her son close in a warm embrace. Draco stood rigid in her grasp, not used to affection of this sort. It was rare when Narcissa hugged, or even smiled at someone; even her own son.

Pulling away out of awkwardness, he nodded curtly at his mother, disappearing with a soft 'pop'. When Draco opened his eyes, he was standing in front of what seemed to be an abandoned flat. Looking around the building he was in, he let his eyes took in the moldy wooden planks, which was the only lining of the building, cool gusts of air swimming between the cracks. He slightly shivered, staring down at the floor.

Pieces of litter lined the edges where the wall met the floor, loose wrappers flying back and forth with the wind, not really getting a chance to settle in any particular spot. Their scampering about the floor gave the illusion that they didn't know where they belonged, which seemed to go along with the building. It seemed as if it didn't belong anywhere itself. He wouldn't be surprised if it was a drifter.

Looking up at the rusted number atop the door, he made sure that it was the correct flat. Not even bothering to knock, he strode inside the darkened place. There were no candles to illuminate the room, no Muggle light switches to turn on, not even a dash of moonlight could be seen through the curtains. The only word that could describe the flat was dark.

Suddenly a lamp clicked on, the light flooding the face of the particular redhead he was responsible for. Her mouth curved into a cruel grin, her eyes lingering upon his chest. Her inability to look him in the eye angered him, but he suppressed it, stepping towards her.

"Couldn't just bugger off, could you?" she asked tartly, wrapping her silky black robe tight against her body as an action to occupy her hands more than anything else. She was unfazed by the cold that loomed about her entire flat.

"Hello my little Diable," he sneered, stepping closer to her. He saw her shake in her chair, but her face seemed determined.

Her eyes narrowed to slits, staring daggers into his designer made shoes. "What did you call me?" He didn't respond, only took another step nearer to her. She stood up, her back rigid.

"Get out of my house," she ordered, pointing her finger towards the door. He was circling her, his body moving closer to hers the entire time. She could feel his eyes digging into her skull. It was as if he was trying to scorch her with his gaze, punishing her for not returning his hateful glare. She left her eyes staring into the tops of his shoes as her response. "I told you to get out…" she murmured, her voice staying in a monotone. Draco grimaced.

"Am I making you nervous? Provoking something that has laid dormant in you for a long time," he spat, his face twisting into something truly horrible. "And you don't want it to come out, you little Diable, do you?" he finished, his cold gray eyes twinkling with their own laughter. She shuddered as his hard grip crashed upon her tiny shoulders, his hold digging deep past her skin, bruising her bone.

That's when he violently shook her for a response, pushing her against the wall so that her body was either going to be crushed by him or the wooden boards. She let out a tiny whimper of hurt, her body's reaction to the pain. Although pain was not new to her, this seemed to be crueler than anything else she had been subjected to.

"Speak, my little devil, surely you have some venom to spit, some wrath to leash out. Something, just anything. You are not dead... I know it. My enemy lies dormant inside you; the part of you that wants to look in my eyes and slap me is fighting to get out. I can see it in those eyes!" Draco raved like a madman, his face contorting into one of an insane man.

He pushed his body against her, pinning her down. Releasing his tight grip from her body, he pulled her head up, holding her eyelids open. He was forcing her to look him in the eye. She made her eyes dart to the sides so she could still avoid him.

"You don't want me to look at you," she hissed, emotion skating around the edges of her voice.

Draco sneered with triumph. "Yes, I think I do." When she didn't move, he continued. "Don't worry, my eyes aren't like Potter's, they won't look at you with disappointment or sorrow. They will only offer you the emotion you can handle, hatred."

"Your eyes will never be like Harry's! Don't you EVER compare yourself to him!" her eyes grew wide, her breath becoming fast and uneven. Her chest heaved up and down, her shoulders tensing up tightly. Arms wriggling free from Draco's chest, she pushed him away with a force she hadn't imagined she had.

He stumbled away, laughing cruelly. His should smashed into the wall, but he didn't notice. He was only focusing on Ginny, and how her fire was slowly escaping from it's icy cage.