Authors Note- I hope you enjoyed that chapter, even if it was uneventful
and when I read it over after I posted it I saw the numerous typos in the
last few paragraphs, mixing up 'her' and 'his' about a thousand times.
Sorry. Enjoy and review!
Disclaimer- Nothing but the (nonexistent) plot is mine.
Chapter Four
Over the next three weeks, she saw him seven times. But each time he was like a shadow. There for a moment, lurking in the darkness, just long enough to make obvious his presence to her, to smirk, to make some sort of mockery of a smile, to move to catch her eye. It worked every time, of course. Once she saw him standing in the store across from her bookstore, just looking out the window, dressed in amazingly common robes of blue rather than black.
He had quirked his mouth a bit and then, when she had blinked, he was gone.
She saw him again off down the street when she was out shopping. Just mingling through a crowd, she saw him in a sweep of now deep red robes, weaving through the people, making himself known to her, and then was gone.
It was driving her mad. She wanted to tell Will but couldn't. She wanted to tell Harry but no doubt he would become obsessively protective, as would Fred or George or Percy or Ron (who was too busy with Quidditch anyways) or even Charlie and Bill, off wherever they were. Her friends were all off working with children, and after all, she hadn't been in touch with Emma or Morgan in a while. And Dumbledore...old Dumbledore...she didn't want to bother him.
So she was alone in her misery and slight terror. She didn't know why he was following her, taunting her. His laughter, like that of a murder, rang constantly in her ears.
~*~
Her long, layered red hair flew around her face in the wind and she reached up to smooth it down, attempting to force it to her neck. No such luck. Muttering, she managed to loop it into a sloppy bun with small curly tendrils whispering around her face and neck. Her Muggle-made dark jeans were a little too tight for casual comfort, hugging her legs and flaring a bit below her knees to cover the tops of her black boots. Her wine-colored t-shirt, cut just low enough to catch glances, drew attention to the black diamond necklace that hung around her neck. Her dark-red painted nails glinted in the dim sunlight and her eye makeup made the brown of her eyes all the more lovely.
She hoped she looked enough like a common Muggle. These were the latest fashions, anyways.
Looking down, Ginny checked her watch. Eleven o'clock am. Right on time.
She saw the small house in front of her, painted white with dark blue shutters and a little fence in front. The grass around it was a bright, perky green and a bed of pansies smiled up at her. 193, Maplewood Ave. were the golden letters above the door. Yes, this was Morgan's house.
Morgan had sent her an owl a few days previous, asking her to come visit. Ginny had been missing her dearly and wanted to get away from Draco for a while, just to catch up with her former best friend.
She walked up the front steps, her boots clumping loudly on the wood and knocked on the door. Immediately, Morgan was there. Still tall, still beautiful and pale with frosty cheeks and long, waist-length black hair that sifted across her back when she walked. Morgan shrieked and threw her arms around Ginny, bearing her through the threshold. Mid-hug, Ginny examined the living room she had been welcomed into. There was a large, plush blue couch, the walls were painted white with lots of artwork around them and pictures on the mantelpiece of the old-fashioned fireplace. The rug was warm and two more chairs awaited her. Morgan ushered her into one.
"Oh, Ginny, how good to see you!" her friend gushed. Ginny grinned.
"Yes, and you too, Morgan. How lovely your house is! I had no idea Muggles could be so organized," she remarked, and Morgan laughed.
"Daniel is upstairs in his studio right now, I can call him down in a moment. You know he's an artist? These are some of his works," Morgan said, beckoning to the frames on the walls. Ginny saw paintings of people, buildings, landscapes, water, shadows, odd angles, people talking, people laughing, Morgan. There was one of a young girl on the swing, one of the same girl knee-length in gurgling water, holding up her skirts, looking over her shoulder and laughing. There was the same girl just standing in a pressed white dress, looking out a stained-glass window, the colored light speckling her dress and her white face, her black hair hanging over her shoulders. Behind her a woman stood in black, just watching. It took a moment for Ginny to realize that the woman was Morgan.
"That's my favorite too," Morgan murmured, pointing at the one Ginny was staring at. She didn't know why she liked it so much. The creases in the dress were so exact, the way the girl's foot was on top of the other, her knee bent, her hands loosely clasped, the blank look in her large, dark eyes. Even the floorboards had texture.
"That's you," Ginny whispered, speaking of the woman.
"Yes, and that's my daughter."
Ginny stared at her friend. "Daughter? Since when?"
"She's five," laughed Morgan. "I told you about her before, Ginny, you know that. I have before, you just must not remember."
Ginny thought hard and then remembered the owls reporting the news. But she had never seen the girl.
"I tried to owl you practically hundreds of times over the past few months but you haven't replied! Why? I wanted so badly to keep in touch with you!"
Ginny stared. "I...I haven't gotten any owls from you, Morgan! I swear I would've returned had I gotten them...in fact, I haven't gotten any," Ginny murmured. Then it finally dawned on her. Draco. It had something to do with Draco.
The thought plagued her for the next four hours as she talked, laughed and remembered with Morgan. She saw Daniel again; how handsome he still was, with his boyish face and dried paint smeared on his shirt and hands. Their daughter, named Amelia, was out at a friend's, of course.
They hosted her for lunch and then Morgan took Ginny out sight-seeing in the Muggle London. Ginny wasn't exactly amazed at all of the Muggle technology, seeing as she was mostly in touch with outside life, but she was still quite awed. What amazed her as well were the bookshelves that plagued the shelves of stores with fantasy ideas of witches and wizards, though none of them had anything to do with the life that Ginny lived. How odd.
The afternoon flew by and soon they were back having dinner, and Ginny ached for a family life of her own. Morgan and Daniel gushed with pride for Amelia and Ginny longed for a daughter to base her life around. She was sick of living alone with Will and he always being gone. She wanted action.
Darkness soon flooded the suburbs as the sun sank in a red, inky mass below the horizon and the shadows engulfed all natural light, though the streetlamps shone with their nearly yellow light into the night.
"It was so wonderful to see you, Gin, and please, let's try to keep in touch," Morgan cried, hugging her friend tightly. Ginny nodded in agreement, stepping out of the door onto the porch into the cold air.
"Yes, yes, I'm so sorry I haven't been replying! If only I actually got some owls..." she laughed rather nervously, twisting it into some kind of cough to hide the anxiety.
"Now get home quickly, you never know what goes on in the dark during these times, even near Muggles," Morgan said, her voice dropping as she gave Ginny one last hug. Ginny nodded and, feeling the pressure of suppressed tears behind her throat, moved down the steps and onto the sidewalk with a wave.
~*~
Draco pulled his wand out of his pocket as his icy eyes scoured the empty street. Tonight was the night. His father said they had been waiting too long. Ginny was out, anyways, at a friend's. His black cloak billowed slowly against the wind and he looked up to see the full moon looking sadly down over him, the smoky clouds sliding over the silvery surface. It's face looked as though it was crying.
~*~
Ginny quickened her step, her boots making loud resounding noises against the pavement. She withdrew her wand from her bag and murmured an incomprehensible spell to quiet them. Silence engulfed her. She didn't like it.
~*~
He saw the name of the street on the sign as it glowed against the dim light. Maplewood Ave. Yes, this was the right place. He was certain of it. Stepping back into a cloud of shadows, he looked down the dark street. Nothing. He checked his watch and that it was nine o'clock. She should have left Morgan's house by now.
~*~
Fear gripped her from some unknown source as she tightened her coat around her throat. Her loose hair flapped against her back and her jeans brushed against each other when she walked. She heard a baby's cry coming from someone's window, the clang of metal, a loud eruption of laughter. Though these sounds comforted her, they made her all the more frightened in another way. A sense of foreboding made her rigid as she passed another white house. Something was going to happen. She felt it.
~*~
He saw her coming up the street just at the right time. Immediately, that unknown emotion that plagued him when he saw her filled him to the brink. He watched her fast walk, he heard the dim, suppressed clump of the soles of her boots. Her face was pale, her lips dark, her hair swirling around her, making her look like some modern Aphrodite unknowingly walking into fate.
~*~
She knew it was him before she saw him step out of the shadows. Who else would it have been? The streetlamp nearest them flickered out as she stopped suddenly. The harsh sound of her own breathing slammed against her eardrums. She saw his tall, lean form approaching her, just another shadow, though a bit more solid. His hair gleamed a bit and she saw the flash of his pale eyes.
"Draco?"
Silence.
~*~
He didn't want to do it. Now that he saw her standing there, afraid, depending on anything to save her, he didn't want to put her through this.
Immediately his cowardice backfired and he cursed in his head. This was his job, his mission. He should be proud to be trusted with such a task.
He could see her shivering in the chilly air, but perhaps from a mixture of fear as well. He pulled out his wand underneath his cloak, certain she couldn't see it. She blinked and squinted.
"What are you doing, Malfoy? Draco?" Her voice was a frightened squeak. She took a step backwards. Then another. She began to move quickly backwards but he advanced and took hold of her wrist. She froze.
"Draco? Please, stop!"
He whispered the spell. She froze, her eyes suddenly became dull, devoid of expression as her body went limp. Springing forward, he caught her as she fell. Ginny's body hung against his arm as he lifted her up close to him. Her tiny breaths felt huge and overpowering in her chest as he crushed it against him. He had done it.
~*~
She felt half the life go out of her. She felt his arm around her. She couldn't see, though. The darkness frightened her but she couldn't move. Her wand! Where was her wand? He had attacked her! But she was alive. Why couldn't she move her arm? Why did she feel like she was falling? Then she heard something.
A whisper against her ear. She felt it rather than heard it. "I'm sorry." His voice.
And then they were gone.
~*~
Authors Note- Oh, didn't you just LOVE that? I DID! Fun to write. Sorry bout the cliffie but deal with it. Don't complain about the cliffie. Aha! That was so cool! Okay sorry. Leave a review!!
Disclaimer- Nothing but the (nonexistent) plot is mine.
Chapter Four
Over the next three weeks, she saw him seven times. But each time he was like a shadow. There for a moment, lurking in the darkness, just long enough to make obvious his presence to her, to smirk, to make some sort of mockery of a smile, to move to catch her eye. It worked every time, of course. Once she saw him standing in the store across from her bookstore, just looking out the window, dressed in amazingly common robes of blue rather than black.
He had quirked his mouth a bit and then, when she had blinked, he was gone.
She saw him again off down the street when she was out shopping. Just mingling through a crowd, she saw him in a sweep of now deep red robes, weaving through the people, making himself known to her, and then was gone.
It was driving her mad. She wanted to tell Will but couldn't. She wanted to tell Harry but no doubt he would become obsessively protective, as would Fred or George or Percy or Ron (who was too busy with Quidditch anyways) or even Charlie and Bill, off wherever they were. Her friends were all off working with children, and after all, she hadn't been in touch with Emma or Morgan in a while. And Dumbledore...old Dumbledore...she didn't want to bother him.
So she was alone in her misery and slight terror. She didn't know why he was following her, taunting her. His laughter, like that of a murder, rang constantly in her ears.
~*~
Her long, layered red hair flew around her face in the wind and she reached up to smooth it down, attempting to force it to her neck. No such luck. Muttering, she managed to loop it into a sloppy bun with small curly tendrils whispering around her face and neck. Her Muggle-made dark jeans were a little too tight for casual comfort, hugging her legs and flaring a bit below her knees to cover the tops of her black boots. Her wine-colored t-shirt, cut just low enough to catch glances, drew attention to the black diamond necklace that hung around her neck. Her dark-red painted nails glinted in the dim sunlight and her eye makeup made the brown of her eyes all the more lovely.
She hoped she looked enough like a common Muggle. These were the latest fashions, anyways.
Looking down, Ginny checked her watch. Eleven o'clock am. Right on time.
She saw the small house in front of her, painted white with dark blue shutters and a little fence in front. The grass around it was a bright, perky green and a bed of pansies smiled up at her. 193, Maplewood Ave. were the golden letters above the door. Yes, this was Morgan's house.
Morgan had sent her an owl a few days previous, asking her to come visit. Ginny had been missing her dearly and wanted to get away from Draco for a while, just to catch up with her former best friend.
She walked up the front steps, her boots clumping loudly on the wood and knocked on the door. Immediately, Morgan was there. Still tall, still beautiful and pale with frosty cheeks and long, waist-length black hair that sifted across her back when she walked. Morgan shrieked and threw her arms around Ginny, bearing her through the threshold. Mid-hug, Ginny examined the living room she had been welcomed into. There was a large, plush blue couch, the walls were painted white with lots of artwork around them and pictures on the mantelpiece of the old-fashioned fireplace. The rug was warm and two more chairs awaited her. Morgan ushered her into one.
"Oh, Ginny, how good to see you!" her friend gushed. Ginny grinned.
"Yes, and you too, Morgan. How lovely your house is! I had no idea Muggles could be so organized," she remarked, and Morgan laughed.
"Daniel is upstairs in his studio right now, I can call him down in a moment. You know he's an artist? These are some of his works," Morgan said, beckoning to the frames on the walls. Ginny saw paintings of people, buildings, landscapes, water, shadows, odd angles, people talking, people laughing, Morgan. There was one of a young girl on the swing, one of the same girl knee-length in gurgling water, holding up her skirts, looking over her shoulder and laughing. There was the same girl just standing in a pressed white dress, looking out a stained-glass window, the colored light speckling her dress and her white face, her black hair hanging over her shoulders. Behind her a woman stood in black, just watching. It took a moment for Ginny to realize that the woman was Morgan.
"That's my favorite too," Morgan murmured, pointing at the one Ginny was staring at. She didn't know why she liked it so much. The creases in the dress were so exact, the way the girl's foot was on top of the other, her knee bent, her hands loosely clasped, the blank look in her large, dark eyes. Even the floorboards had texture.
"That's you," Ginny whispered, speaking of the woman.
"Yes, and that's my daughter."
Ginny stared at her friend. "Daughter? Since when?"
"She's five," laughed Morgan. "I told you about her before, Ginny, you know that. I have before, you just must not remember."
Ginny thought hard and then remembered the owls reporting the news. But she had never seen the girl.
"I tried to owl you practically hundreds of times over the past few months but you haven't replied! Why? I wanted so badly to keep in touch with you!"
Ginny stared. "I...I haven't gotten any owls from you, Morgan! I swear I would've returned had I gotten them...in fact, I haven't gotten any," Ginny murmured. Then it finally dawned on her. Draco. It had something to do with Draco.
The thought plagued her for the next four hours as she talked, laughed and remembered with Morgan. She saw Daniel again; how handsome he still was, with his boyish face and dried paint smeared on his shirt and hands. Their daughter, named Amelia, was out at a friend's, of course.
They hosted her for lunch and then Morgan took Ginny out sight-seeing in the Muggle London. Ginny wasn't exactly amazed at all of the Muggle technology, seeing as she was mostly in touch with outside life, but she was still quite awed. What amazed her as well were the bookshelves that plagued the shelves of stores with fantasy ideas of witches and wizards, though none of them had anything to do with the life that Ginny lived. How odd.
The afternoon flew by and soon they were back having dinner, and Ginny ached for a family life of her own. Morgan and Daniel gushed with pride for Amelia and Ginny longed for a daughter to base her life around. She was sick of living alone with Will and he always being gone. She wanted action.
Darkness soon flooded the suburbs as the sun sank in a red, inky mass below the horizon and the shadows engulfed all natural light, though the streetlamps shone with their nearly yellow light into the night.
"It was so wonderful to see you, Gin, and please, let's try to keep in touch," Morgan cried, hugging her friend tightly. Ginny nodded in agreement, stepping out of the door onto the porch into the cold air.
"Yes, yes, I'm so sorry I haven't been replying! If only I actually got some owls..." she laughed rather nervously, twisting it into some kind of cough to hide the anxiety.
"Now get home quickly, you never know what goes on in the dark during these times, even near Muggles," Morgan said, her voice dropping as she gave Ginny one last hug. Ginny nodded and, feeling the pressure of suppressed tears behind her throat, moved down the steps and onto the sidewalk with a wave.
~*~
Draco pulled his wand out of his pocket as his icy eyes scoured the empty street. Tonight was the night. His father said they had been waiting too long. Ginny was out, anyways, at a friend's. His black cloak billowed slowly against the wind and he looked up to see the full moon looking sadly down over him, the smoky clouds sliding over the silvery surface. It's face looked as though it was crying.
~*~
Ginny quickened her step, her boots making loud resounding noises against the pavement. She withdrew her wand from her bag and murmured an incomprehensible spell to quiet them. Silence engulfed her. She didn't like it.
~*~
He saw the name of the street on the sign as it glowed against the dim light. Maplewood Ave. Yes, this was the right place. He was certain of it. Stepping back into a cloud of shadows, he looked down the dark street. Nothing. He checked his watch and that it was nine o'clock. She should have left Morgan's house by now.
~*~
Fear gripped her from some unknown source as she tightened her coat around her throat. Her loose hair flapped against her back and her jeans brushed against each other when she walked. She heard a baby's cry coming from someone's window, the clang of metal, a loud eruption of laughter. Though these sounds comforted her, they made her all the more frightened in another way. A sense of foreboding made her rigid as she passed another white house. Something was going to happen. She felt it.
~*~
He saw her coming up the street just at the right time. Immediately, that unknown emotion that plagued him when he saw her filled him to the brink. He watched her fast walk, he heard the dim, suppressed clump of the soles of her boots. Her face was pale, her lips dark, her hair swirling around her, making her look like some modern Aphrodite unknowingly walking into fate.
~*~
She knew it was him before she saw him step out of the shadows. Who else would it have been? The streetlamp nearest them flickered out as she stopped suddenly. The harsh sound of her own breathing slammed against her eardrums. She saw his tall, lean form approaching her, just another shadow, though a bit more solid. His hair gleamed a bit and she saw the flash of his pale eyes.
"Draco?"
Silence.
~*~
He didn't want to do it. Now that he saw her standing there, afraid, depending on anything to save her, he didn't want to put her through this.
Immediately his cowardice backfired and he cursed in his head. This was his job, his mission. He should be proud to be trusted with such a task.
He could see her shivering in the chilly air, but perhaps from a mixture of fear as well. He pulled out his wand underneath his cloak, certain she couldn't see it. She blinked and squinted.
"What are you doing, Malfoy? Draco?" Her voice was a frightened squeak. She took a step backwards. Then another. She began to move quickly backwards but he advanced and took hold of her wrist. She froze.
"Draco? Please, stop!"
He whispered the spell. She froze, her eyes suddenly became dull, devoid of expression as her body went limp. Springing forward, he caught her as she fell. Ginny's body hung against his arm as he lifted her up close to him. Her tiny breaths felt huge and overpowering in her chest as he crushed it against him. He had done it.
~*~
She felt half the life go out of her. She felt his arm around her. She couldn't see, though. The darkness frightened her but she couldn't move. Her wand! Where was her wand? He had attacked her! But she was alive. Why couldn't she move her arm? Why did she feel like she was falling? Then she heard something.
A whisper against her ear. She felt it rather than heard it. "I'm sorry." His voice.
And then they were gone.
~*~
Authors Note- Oh, didn't you just LOVE that? I DID! Fun to write. Sorry bout the cliffie but deal with it. Don't complain about the cliffie. Aha! That was so cool! Okay sorry. Leave a review!!