"So what do we do now?" Ginny asked after she had stopped crying. Malfoy was still holding her close.
"Hm," he sighed in thought. "I don't know."
"Why do you do it?" she asked timidly.
"The less 'pure blood' I have in my veins the better I feel." He shrugged. "I hate my father. I hate what he stands for. I hate the world that lets him roam free. I hate being his son. I hate having his name. I hate the people that won't let me be anyone else." He sounded tired.
"So, are you cruel to everyone because that's what they expect and there's no reason to disappoint or are you cruel because you resent the expectations?"
"What's the difference?"
"The first indicates a self-satisfaction with a healthy dose of cynicism. You know who you are so who cares if they do? The second indicates bitterness. You let them hurt; you've let their mistakes taint your heart," she explained.
He looked at the top of her head for a moment. He was slightly surprised by the way that she looked at things, analyzed them. After a moment he shrugged again. "It depends on my mood, I guess. One day it's this the next it's that." He settled a little against the wall, shifting her a bit on his lap but not removing her. He was now sitting with his back against the wall and his legs stretched out in front of him. She was sitting sideways on his lap leaning against his chest with her legs bent, ankles resting on his knees.
"What about you, why do you do it?" he asked.
"To bleed Tom out of my soul," was her matter of fact answer.
He tightened his arms around her. "I'm sorry."
"It isn't your fault."
"No, but it is my father's."
"You aren't your father."
"Tell that to your brother," the bitterness was thick in his voice.
"I can't tell him anything," regret and pain was thick in hers.
"You said you still have him in your head?" Malfoy was referring to Tom.
"Yeah. I don't know. I guess he spent so much time in me, and then…when he almost stole my life as his own…when it was returned to me…I don't know. I just know that there is a running commentary on life in my head that wasn't there before, that's dark and disturbing. Sometimes I can't tell what's from him and what's really me." He felt her shrink against him.
"You've never talked to anyone about what really happened, have you?" He rested his head on the top of hers.
She sighed deeply. "We wouldn't be here if I had, would we?"
"I don't know. I'm glad we are though. It's completely selfish and actually quite horrible if you think about it, but I'm glad I'm not alone anymore."
"Me too."
They sat like that for a little while longer.
"So what do we do now?" she asked again.
"I don't know."