Disclaimer: The characters and terms associated with Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling, not me.

Draco's Destiny

By: Eugenia

CHAPTER 6: Trapped

Narcissa was awaken abruptly from sound sleep by a short, agonizing scream. She noticed her husband Lucius was sitting next to her amongst the beige satin sheets, completely absorbed in his reading. He did not seem at all disturbed by the scream, and to her astonishment, he was rather amused.

"What was that, Lucius? It better not have been that new house elf-it's so hard to find good help these days."

"Don't worry, dear. That was our little boy finally showing some initiative. It certainly took him long enough, but I am proud to say that he's becoming a Malfoy through and through."

"Draco? He's here?"

"No, he's not. But he has found the connection between our home and Hogwarts. I must admit that I was worried he might not catch on…he still has much to learn, and I fear sometimes that he will not be ready to face his destiny."

"Oh, nonsense. He's a smart boy, and he's every bit as capable as you were at his age. Just give him time; he'll come around…just don't expect him to automatically 'come around' on your side!"

"Narcissa, this isn't a game. He must realize that he has the opportunity of a lifetime, and so far he's proved to be weak and easily manipulated. I'm hoping that this will be the beginning of the rest of his life."

"Maybe so, but there's no reason to put him at risk, Lucius. I just want what is best for him."

"There's no doubt in my mind of that, and believe me, I have been investing in his future because I believe that this will be the best for him. There's no need to worry, now. Go back to sleep."

"Lucius, I have stood by and watched you attempt to discipline him in ways that were, well, controversial. It has hurt me as much as it hurt him. I will not allow you to destroy him like you've done to me. I hate that I've been reduced to a simple, socializing housewife. It might have been your destiny for me, but it's not what I had planned. I might have caved, but don't expect the boy to cave so easily. He may be a Malfoy, but he most definitely is not your clone!"

Narcissa stood up and angrily walked away from the luxurious bed towards the door. There, she paused, as if to gather one last ounce of courage. She turned back to face her husband, who still lay on the bed, undisturbed by her outburst. She could see his indifference towards her and how little he valued anything she had to say. He had turned back to his reading, and a lock of blond hair had fallen onto his face. At that moment she hated him even more than she had ever imagined could be possible. She spoke to him in a steady, proud tone, "You will never control Draco the way you manipulated me. I will see to it, if it is the last thing I do." She grabbed her wand and a coat, and walked out the door.

Lucius did not bother to look up, accustomed to her many outbursts. Little did he know that his wife had finally reached the point of no return. Instead, he thought of curses to manipulate the mind and cause physical pain, in the chance that his son resisted the future chosen for the weakling. He hoped his son would join him willingly and become a powerful Death Eater, but he also knew that he would rather be prepared to manipulate the boy than to regretfully have to kill his only heir.

Narcissa ran down the familiar corridor that led to Draco's bed chamber. Her tears were silent, yet signified a relief she had not felt for many years. From the beginning of her marriage to Lucius, he had molded her into the perfect housewife, filling her schedule with both 'lady-like' domestic activities and an endless cycle of socializing meetings. She had a role that would only equal that of a wife of the minister of magic, if only the minister of magic was married. She was the 'first lady' of the Death Eaters and had very little liberty within the circle.

When she had been younger she had resisted the role, claiming that she had intended to have a career of her own, but Lucius was quick to use the Crustacius curse on her. Over the years, the repeated exposure to the curse had weakened her physically. The nine months she was pregnant with Draco was the longest time that she had ever gone without having that wretched curse cast at her. She had once had a miscarriage because of that curse, though Lucius had not known of her pregnancy and she had never told him for fear of his anger. Today, she not only regretted her marriage, but also her distant relationship with her son. Lucius's plan for her did not leave time for her son, nor did he want her son to be raised as a "mama's boy." She had stayed with Lucius out of fear, but also out of hope that one day things would change. She had blindly loved Lucius in her youth, and now she was praying the price.

Like many previous nights, Narcissa fell asleep on her son's bed, wishing for control of her own life, and for her son's freedom of his father. She knew no one that would help her or her Draco, and she could not be much help to him. Draco was alone, and Narcissa feared he was no match for Lucius. She found solace in her son's chamber, as if Draco himself was providing a temporary refuge from her miserable life.

The portrait that had once depicted the love of Lady Violet's life was now empty. Sir Benjamin had been slain in his sleep, the last memory of him was now gone forever. All the other occupants of paintings at Hogwarts were scandalized-no one had ever bothered to murder someone in a painting. After all, what harm could a painting bring?

But Draco knew that once a character of an artwork was killed, they would be gone forever from all art, preventing them from communicating to people between different locations. The only other place that had housed a portrait of Sir Benjamin had been at his own home, and Draco was sure that the painting was responsible for his father's knowledge of his intended meeting with Ginny. He did not know how Sir Benjamin had stumbled upon this bit of information, but he was certain that the gossip needed to stop before Draco himself was thrown into an early grave. He had wondered how in all these years his father seemed to know everything that happened in Hogwarts almost instantaneously; now he knew. All that worried Draco at the present moment was not getting caught in his act of vandalism. He would deal with Crabbe and Goyle later, as he felt that he could punish them for their disloyalty when the opportunity presented itself.

During breakfast in the Great Hall, the faculty was in a grim mood. It seemed that only the students were conversing that morning, and Draco found his gaze focusing on the Gryffindor table where Ginny sat next to Potter and Granger. He would have felt immensely jealous had he not noticed that Potter and Granger were completely immersed in conversation, without paying much attention to Ginny. Weasley was sitting towards the opposite end of the table, shooting hateful glances at Potter and Granger. Well, well. Maybe the dream team isn't such a dream after all, Draco thought.

Ginny looked at Draco across the room. Her eyes were piercing him, as if searching for conviction in her doubts. He glanced back down at his food and knew that it was hopeless. She knew it was him. He was sure of it.

Suddenly Dumbledore rose from his seat at the faculty table and declared, "I have a few announcements this morning, which require your undivided attention, please."

The Great Hall grew silent, everyone puzzled as to the change in routine.

"I have very disappointing news. One of the portraits was attacked last night, and the perpetrator has murdered the occupant of the painting that hung in the corridor on the third floor towards the east wing of the castle. Let us pause to honor the memory of Sir Benjamin, who had been a part of Hogwarts for 137 years."

Dumbledore's announcement caused shock amongst the student population. Ginny seemed to be the exception, Draco noticed. She seemed sad, instead, and would not dare look up to meet anyone's eyes. Draco felt his emotions in turmoil, a feeling that was now frequent since Ginny had crashed into his life.

Dumbledore continued his speech, "As you all know, this is more than an act of vandalism. Whoever is guilty is also responsible for the death of the memory of a wizard, and is in violation of wizarding law. It is a most dreadful deed, which will not go unpunished. In response to this incident, I have reconsidered a petition that was brought forth to me at the beginning of the school year last month. I have decided to allow the reinstitution of an academic club called Dumbledore's Army, but only if the following conditions are met: they will change their name to reflect their academic purpose, they will have a faculty moderator, and they must invite any member of the school to join, as long as they are a third year and above. That is all."

Everyone began to chatter loudly about the news; it seemed like some students were concerned over the security at Hogwarts, while others just wanted to talk about the identity of the culprit. Just then, the owl post arrived, and Draco received a letter from his mum, which he chose to open later in private. He noticed that both Ginny and Weasley had received mail, and all of the Gryffindors were talking to them excitedly. He saw that Ginny stood up abruptly and ran out the Great Hall. He followed her out, keeping a safe distance.

When Draco was sure no one was following them, he called out to her, "Ginny, stop!"

Yet she kept running, and did not heed his command. Instead she dropped the crumpled letter on the ground, shot him a meaningful look, and left him there alone in the corridor.

He picked up the letter, and began reading. The Gryffindors had been congratulating her on her father's new promotion. According to Mrs. Weasley's letter, the promotion also included a very significant raise and yearly bonus. On the back, Ginny had scribbled: "Meet me, same time, tonight, female prefect bathroom."

Ron trudged through the day as if in a daze. The only thing that had lifted his spirits was the letter from his mum. He was thrilled at the prospect of the financial security his father's promotion would bring his family.

He was both glad and perplexed at Percy's willingness to reconcile with the family. His parents would be happy about Percy, yet Ron wondered why Percy had returned to them. Percy had proved himself unloyal to their family when they had needed them the most during the reformation of the Order of the Phoenix. Ron hoped that his parents would not involve Percy in the Order.

In potions class that morning, he was reminded again of his fight with Harry. Ron had decided to avoid both Harry and Hermione, which proved simple once he had paired himself with Malfoy. This was surprising for Malfoy at first, but it did not feel out the ordinary since Snape had paired them together so many times in the past month.

They worked together silently on the potion and accomplished a decent result. Its final color was the deep, nave blue that Snape had predicted. Towards the end of class, Snape made his rounds around the room, checking the cauldrons. When he reached theirs, he paused, raising his eyebrows and commented, "Interesting turnout, after all."

Then he turned toward the cauldron where Harry and Hermione had been working. The potion was flawless, yet Snape smirked and stated, "Twenty points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter. It is obvious from this potion that you did not participate today. Class dismissed."

And for the first time in their lives, both Ron and Malfoy exchanged a mocking smile, directed at Harry.

"It's just not fair, Hermione. I worked on that potion just as much as you."

"I know, Harry. I was there, too, remember?"

"Yeah, but I wish Gryffindor didn't have to suffer just because of that old geezer's vendetta against me. It's obvious. Heck, it's been obvious for the past five years."

"So why did you think the sixth year would be any different?" Hermione asked softly.

"I dunno," Harry replied, "Maybe because Dumbledore claims he's not so bad. It's a shame I don't see it."

Hermione chuckled. "Anyway, how did you end up in potions? Didn't you get to choose your courses based on your test scores last year?"

"Apparently potions is a requirement if you want to be an Auror. But hey, I shouldn't worry. Chances are I probably won't live through the next couple of years anyhow."

"Harry!" Hermione gave him a playful shove. "Don't say that!"

"Alright, if you say so…I guess I can make the most of the time I have left. How about you and me tongue wrestle for a while?" Harry had a mischievous gleam to his eyes as he placed his arms around her and guided her closer to him.

Hermione turned bright red with embarrassment. "Not in public," she said through clenched teeth.

Harry laughed openly and let his arms fall. "As long as we get to do it sometime, I won't complain." He winked at her. "Well, let's get some lunch then."

"You never cease to surprise me, you know that? I'm actually famished; let's go."

Draco headed outdoors to practice quidditch after his classes were over. It was months before the season would start, but he still loved the feeling of the game off season.

He felt a cool chill run up his spine as he ascended on his broom. The temperature had dropped moderately, announcing that the end of autumn was near.

Suddenly Draco noticed he was not alone on the field. Someone else was practicing ahead of him.

"Hey, you!" Draco called out.

The boy turned to face him. It was Weasley, and he was all flushed, as if he had been playing for a while. "Yeah?" he responded.

At first Draco was disappointed, but then he thought, "Why not? It might not be a bad idea to get on his good side if I'm going to be meeting with his sister…after hours."

"Weasel," Draco asked, "are you up for a challenge?"

"One on one? What's in it for me?"

"Well, I know you won't want to play for money now that you've got some. How about this: if I win, we publicly humiliate someone from Gryffindor-Potter-most likely. But if you win, then it'll be someone from Slytherin. Is it a deal?"

"Deal."

After 2 hours of play, Draco won by a landslide. It almost seemed to him that Weasley wasn't really even trying to score. They decided to meet the following week for another game, and to plan their prank.

At midnight, Draco stood in front of the girls' prefect laboratory and whispered the password "chocolate cricket."

The door swung open, and Draco found himself surrounded by luxurious marble walls and floor. There was a column straight ahead of him, and he could see Ginny's back was leaning on it. She had rolled up her robes and placed her legs in a large hot tub that sank into the floor in front of her. The ceiling was enchanted, much like that of the Great Hall, and the moon and stars shined brightly at them, giving the room dim lighting.

Draco sat next to her, careful to stay away from the water. For a moment they sat in silence, not wanting to complicate things between them.

Ginny kept her eyes on the water and said, "Your father moves fast."

"He wrote the book on 'friends in high places.'"

"I just wish Dad had received the promotion based on merit…"

"Maybe he did."

Ginny gave him a look as if to say "nice try." She sighed. "I feel like I can't be happy because it's tainted. And during winter break I'll have to pretend to be happy about this…it won't be easy. I didn't think your father would involve them."

"Money is the only weapon he's got. He knows how to use it. But your parents are smart-you don't give them enough credit. They must have some idea of the politics involved." Draco tried not to notice the way she was biting her bottom lip. "Will you be rejoining the DA?"

"Yes, probably. It was great way to practice Defense Against the Dark Arts-I wish you would join, too."

"I'll think about it," he said, surprising Ginny.

"I heard there are rumours that Cornelius Fudge is leaving the Ministry," she told him.

"If he does, I wouldn't be surprised to see my father as the next minister of magic."

"You know, I've always thought the minister should be more, well, handsome. I could see your father winning on his looks," she said matter-of-factly and giggled.

"You must be mad," he retorted and gave her a look of complete disgust.

"Yeah. He's got those gorgeous eyes and that great physique," she teased.

"Well, like father, like son, right?" he suggested in a husky voice.

"Not really. I guess you got stuck with the bad genes from your mother's side."

"That's it! You're going down!" Draco reached toward her and began tickling her like mad. He was surprised at how well she blocked him, and he had to keep rolling over to try and gain control. They ended up in a tangled mess on the marble floor, both breathless.

Draco stiffened as he realized the proximity of his bodies. He looked down at her, and saw her eyes were watching him carefully. He could feel her heartbeat rising on the wrist he held in his right hand and released it slowly.

She raised her hand up to his hair and slid her fingers through the soft, silky texture. He gasped in response, and she smiled in return. "Draco," she murmured.

"Hush-no names. You make me want to forget who I am," he breathed against her ear.

"Or where we are," she suggested in a voice as low as his.

"Yes, this is just a dream," he whispered. "Just a dream."

He bent down to brush his lips against hers, slowly and teasingly. At first she lay still, but as he deepened the kiss, she wrapped her arms around his neck and responded with an equal hunger.

The simple kiss continued until they could no longer breathe, and no amount of air was enough to last as long as they needed. Draco moved to cradle her head so she would not be hurt by the marble floor, and she took the opportunity to explore his back with her hands. He closed his eyes then, willing himself to gain control of his body, and failing.

She began to leave a trail of butterfly kisses along his jaw line, and he quickly stopped the sweet torment by taking her mouth again in one swift motion. Ginny arched her body toward him instinctively, needing to close the gap between them with an urgency arising from the passion between them.

Draco could hardly believe how good Ginny tasted and felt, with lips and skin so soft under his own. Her hair, too, was a silky fire under his hands, and it surrounded her like an erupting volcano, the red fire cascading everywhere.

"Fire," he breathed. "Fire burns."

"Yes," she agreed, "It does."

Ginny reached up to kiss him once more, but abruptly, he pushed her away. Draco scrambled to his feet, trying to get away from her and from her dangerous trap.

"What's wrong?" she asked, confused.

"I know what you're trying to do," he said through his teeth.

"What are you talking about?"

"It won't work, you know. I can't do this."

"Do what, Draco? I haven't asked you to do anything."

"Liar! From the first day you've asked me to turn my back on everything and everyone in my life, not to mention my family and my future. And for what? For a little shagging I can get from any girl?" Draco was shaking his head furiously in emphasis.

Ginny was still sitting on the ground, completely taken aback. She could not think of anything to say to him that could make him understand how she felt. "Draco, I lov--," she began.

"Don't say it," he interrupted. "Don't you dare say it! You can't possibly mean it. And if you do, well, grow up! It's just a trap; it makes you blind and lowers your defenses and makes you risk everything you've ever wanted."

"But did you really want that for yourself? I don't see how the Draco I know could possibly want to follow that path. You're not happy; you're suffering. Let me help you. Draco, I love you."

Draco flinched. "Then stay the hell away from me, and you'll see things more clearly from now on."

He turned and left Ginny alone in the laboratory, its ceiling casting ghostly shadows around her, encircling her as she crumbled and succumbed to the torrents of weeping inside of her.

For days Ginny had avoided Draco as much as humanly possible. She could not stand to look at him and have him look back at her with such contempt. She knew that it could not be easy to do what she asked of him, yet she could not help but be angry at him.

Draco had caused her too much pain that night. Ginny kept hoping the pain would go away as time went by, but it lingered, tormenting her bit by bit until it was completely useless. She tried keeping herself busy with her schoolwork and occasionally practicing quidditch, to the point that most of her professors had commented on her improvement in her courses. She had not visited Lady Violet much since Sir Benjamin's death; Lady Vi was still in mourning and refused to see her.

As Ginny walked down the corridor on a Saturday morning, she thought about the last time she had unintentionally run into Draco. It had been Wednesday evening after classes when Ginny had gone to find Ron on the quidditch field. To her astonishment, he had been playing quidditch with Draco! When they saw she had discovered them, Draco ignored her and Ron had blushed, not knowing how to explain.

Ginny had run away as fast as she could, into the shelter of the school. She wondered why Draco would associate himself with Ron but not with her. Now, as she stepped into the first DA meeting of the year, she breathed easily, knowing that she would not run into Draco here.

She rushed in only to find herself behind a head of gorgeous, pale blond hair and a body covered in a dark green robe. Ginny caught pieces of the conversation in front of her:

"No room for you here, Malfoy."

"Don't worry, Potter, I don't take up as much room as your girlfriend. Plus, our club's faculty moderator would be just crushed if I didn't attend."

"How do you know who the mentor will be? He isn't here yet." Harry glanced quickly in the direction of the door, where Ginny stood.

"Well, maybe if you weren't failing his class, you'd know."

"Still, there are an odd number of people here; you won't have a partner."

"I don't need you to get a dueling partner, Potter."

"Harry," Ginny began, "I wouldn't mind getting the chance to tear Malfoy to pieces. Is that alright with you, dragon boy?"

Draco laughed. "No problem, Weasley. Seems like there's room for me after all." He gave Harry one last smirk before leading Ginny into the room.

Ginny's heart practically leapt off her chest with every step. He had talked to her! She was not going to break apart now in front of him. She tried taking deep breaths to calm herself without being too obvious. In a way, dueling with him would bring her a needed satisfaction of revenge. She just hoped that he would not utterly humiliate her in front of everyone.

Draco cursed himself silently for his fate. He had to pretend to hate her, even if everything in his body told him that every moment without her was torture. He had decided it would be for the best. She had hated to be caught in a trap by his father, and Draco would do everything in his power to protect her-even if it meant they could not be together. He just had trouble convincing himself whenever she was near.

Draco noticed he was the only Slytherin in the entire room. He figured that would change by the next meeting. Dumbledore had chosen wisely when he had picked a mentor for the DA, and Draco was sure it would be entertaining…at least for him, though probably not for Potter.

Everyone anxiously awaited the arrival of the professor, each hoping their own favorite had been chosen. Yet time passed, and no professor was arriving. After several minutes of waiting, Harry took charge and began to lead the meeting as he had done the previous year.

Draco as faced Ginny, he was vaguely conscious of all the people surrounding him. He concentrated on reflecting and directing curses in Ginny's direction. He was surprised to discover her speed and ease at dueling.

He picked his curses cautiously; among his favorites were disarming her and making her dizzy. If undeflected, she would be forced to turn in circles, her hair cascading around her in a furry of red. Then she would recover and paralyze him. Then he would send her a tickling curse that would make her giggle until he ached with regret.

Later Draco would curse himself for not having paid enough attention and for not having prevented fate. He would seek revenge and cry unheard tears, but he had no way of knowing that now.

He had just paralyzed Ginny when he heard Neville cry out across the room. Draco turned to the source of the sound and saw a flash of white zooming towards them. He pointed his wand towards Ginny and screamed over the noise, "Finite incantatem," releasing her from his curse. Yet Neville's curse was too fast, and Ginny had no time to deflect it.

Draco could feel time stop. His heart was pounding in his ears and it was as if his all his senses had improved. For the first time, he could see clearly. He knew he was powerless to stop it, but he rushed forward regardless to try to save her.

Before he could reach her, the spell hit Ginny. At first she froze, but then her body shook as if electrified. She struggled against the pain, released a high-pitched scream, and collapsed upon the floor.

Draco was the first at her side. Her body looked cold and lifeless with her eyes open wide in shock. He reached for a pulse and did not find one.