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Ginny would never admit it to even herself, but her eyes scoured the Great Hall at dinner for Draco. His two goons sat at the table, but without their charge. It was unusual. Even Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini were there. Draco Malfoy rarely went anywhere without one of his entourage.
"What are you looking at?" Harry's voice startled her. Ginny looked at the boy next to her.
"Nothing," she said. His green eyes assessed her face and she knew she was blushing. Harry then turned back to his dinner.
"Malfoy wasn't in Potions," he muttered to her. Ginny knew, for no reason other than her brother was in it, that Potions was the class the Trio had before dinner.
"It's really none of my concern," she said, eyeing the food on her fork. Then she looked over at Harry again. "What do you think happened?" The Boy-Who-Lived shrugged.
"Who knows? Maybe he's got a hangnail," he said, picking at his dinner. Ginny's eyes narrowed as she looked at him.
"Are you alright, Harry?" she asked. Ginny knew that he wasn't, but she wanted to see if he would avoid the question. He shocked her by being honest.
"No, I'm not," he answered. She ran a hand over his shoulder.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked. He looked up at her with a small, grateful smile but he shook his head.
"It's just the usual. Voldemort…" he told her. "Seeing Theodore Jordan in the Forbidden Forest reminded me of Cedric Diggory…" Ginny hated that death seemed to be a recurring theme in Harry's life. She hated that he'd have to face it himself before this was all over.
"Do you think that… he's still out there hanging about?" she asked, hesitating over the hated surname. Harry let out a sigh.
"I've no idea. The fact that he's been there and there hasn't been any sort of warning makes me nervous. The Forbidden Forest may be Hogwarts grounds, but it is by no means impenetrable," he said.
"Do you think there's going to be an attack?" she asked. Ginny didn't want to ask all the questions that ran through her head, but the nervousness she'd had since Theodore was killed seemed to take over her brain.
"It was only Malfoy, from what Dumbledore can tell. At this point, we can't panic. I'm sure, after that incident, Voldemort will think we have got Auror patrols there. We'll be safe for a while," Harry said, rubbing his scar absentmindedly. Ginny watched this with concern.
"What about Dementors?" she asked softly.
"After all the good they did the last time? Dumbledore won't let them float a foot on Hogwarts grounds," he said. Movement at the Slytherin table caused Ginny to look over. But she was disappointed to see Crabbe stand and leave his companions behind. Harry was watching the other table as well.
"If anything, we're going to need to watch out for them," he said. Ginny couldn't help but wonder if that was true…
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Malfoy Manor…
"Come to welcome your father home after his sojourn as a diplomatic prisoner?" Lucius asked with practiced politeness. Diplomatic prisoner my arse… Draco stayed silent for a moment to reign in his suicidal inner thoughts.
"I'm here only because I received an urgent owl from Mother. If I'd know you would be here, I never would have bothered," Draco said with more confidence than he felt. Lucius Malfoy, despite his deteriorating status and dwindling funds within the wizarding world, would always be an imposing figure. Especially to the little boy that still resided somewhere in Draco.
Narcissa stood up, as regal and composed as a queen. She crossed the room to where her only son stood and leaned up to kiss him softly on the cheek.
"I'll bid you goodnight, Draco," she said before leaving. The two men waited until the door clicked closed before they turned to each other with not-quite-identical frowns. The silence was full of tension.
"I've received troubling information in the past few days," Lucius said. Draco arched a brow.
"Oh?" he asked, curious as to what his father would know. The elder Malfoy's eyes pinned his son.
"A Weasley, Draco?" he asked with disgust. There was a slight feeling of panic in Draco's chest at the thought of his father knowing.
"What about them, Father?" he asked. Lucius' smirk was dangerous.
"I know you've been associating with them… one in particular… as of late. I wouldn't have believed the information if I hadn't seen you save one with my own eyes. Imagine my surprise," he said. Draco's shoulders squared at the acknowledgement of the incident in the Forbidden Forest. He would have thought Lucius would avoid admitting that he had almost killed his own son.
"I'm curious, Draco, as to your sudden interest in the Weasleys…" Lucius said. Draco remained silent. "I've been told some entertaining stories concerning your behavior…" Draco continued to say nothing as his eyes stayed locked on his father's. The two men were now the same height… there was no looking up to his father anymore… both literally and figuratively. The backhand came quickly and almost with surprise, but still Draco held motionless. He was seventeen, a young man now. There would be no cowering. The blow to his face didn't hurt nearly as much as it had in the many years before. But then, he'd been trying to please his father and a simple scolding look had crushed his spirit.
"I would speak if I were you, Draco," Lucius hissed. Draco's hand came up to his face, but the Malfoy-perfected expression of disinterest did not crack.
"I have nothing to say, Father," he said. "To you especially…"
"To me especially?" Lucius asked, his eyebrow raising. "I would think it would be 'to me especially' that you would wish to explain yourself." Draco let his hand drop and clasped them behind his back calmly.
"Whatever prattle you've heard is no concern of yours," Draco said simply. Lucius' own hands clasped behind his back, mirroring his son's pose.
"The Dark Lord would not be pleased to hear of your actions of late. He does not care for snide, mouthy young men to be within his ranks," he said. Draco smirked.
"Then I'd say the Dark Lord is fat out of luck, then," he said. Lucius' eyebrows drew together in an angry frown.
"Watch your mouth, boy," he warned. Draco did not move even though he expected another blow.
"You're lingering about, Father. I'm surprised at you. You've just escaped Azkaban, and you hold yourself here to tell me what a disappointment I happen to be. I'd have thought you'd pounded that into me by now, seeing as you've done it for seventeen years," Draco said. The younger Malfoy could almost hear his father's teeth grinding.
"I've lingered to make sure my son has held true to his path," he said, finally.
"Your path, Father. It is your path for me. I am fully aware that you sold my services to the Dark Lord before I was even born," Draco said.
"It would be in your best interest to continue following it, Draco. Everything you are and everything you have is because of Lord Voldemort," Lucius said. Draco let out a sharp laugh.
"Everything I am? Everything I have? What, exactly, do I have, Father? The Malfoy estates? The Malfoy money? The Malfoy status? All of that is either gone or under scrutiny because of you and your Lord Voldemort. If anyone in this room has been a disappointment, I'd venture to say it has been you," he said. The blow he'd expected earlier finally came. This time it drew blood.
"Mind your tongue, boy," Lucius hissed. Draco straightened once more, a finger reaching up and drawing the blood off of his lip.
"I believe, Father, that I've minded enough," he said, looking at the red. He turned from Lucius and went to the fireplace.
"I have not given you leave," Lucius growled. Draco picked up the floo powder and gave his father one last, unaffected look.
"Hogwarts," he said. The green flames enveloped him, his father's angry face his parting memory.
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Slytherin Common Room…
He sat, legs crossed lazily, book in hand and seemingly ignoring all of the stares. To anyone observing, Draco looked calm and collected. But his temper, within the Slytherin common room, was legendary in its ability to simmer beneath the icy surface and explode when one least suspected. So, everyone held their breath as they watched the Slytherin Prince page through a book in which he was paying too much attention to actually be reading it. Gregory Goyle swallowed audibly as he sat next to his friend.
Finally, Draco put the book down and re-crossed his legs casually. He sat back and rested his hands on his stomach. His steely gaze was locked on Vincent Crabbe. It was made all the more intimidating by the bruising on his usually perfect face.
"You betrayed me to my father," the blond said quietly. This time, an audible gulp went around the entire common room. Crabbe said nothing, but the fact that he kept rubbing his beefy hands together betrayed his nervousness. The boy's silence confirmed the soft statement. Draco stood up and paced slowly in front of the couch he'd just vacated. He reminded everyone present of a panther stalking his quarry.
"My loyalty is to the Dark Lord," Crabbe stuttered out in sudden explanation. Draco's eyes narrowed for a moment causing the bulky boy to flinch. Instead of lash out as all expected him to do, the blond stopped pacing and stood up straight. Calmly, he put his hands into the pockets of his trousers.
"Your loyalty is to the Dark Lord…" he repeated calmly. This time Crabbe swallowed hard. "Your loyalty is to the Dark Lord, yet you take orders from my father in secret." One hand was removed from its pocket and quickly swiped the contents off the table in front of him, the subsequent crash causing everyone to jump. But still, he remained calm on the outside as he replaced that hand back into the pocket it had vacated.
"Your loyalty should have been to me," Draco growled as he turned to resume staring at Crabbe. Without taking his eyes off the boy, he addressed the silent spectators in the common room. "I would appreciate the audience taking themselves off and finding better things to do than stare..." Those who had been avidly watching the showdown scrambled from their seats and either went to their rooms or left the common room altogether. The only one to stay behind was Goyle, who stood in support next to Draco.
"You've made a grave mistake making an enemy of me, Crabbe," Draco drawled. Crabbe stood and faced the angry blond.
"What are you going to do, Draco?" he asked, fear causing his pudgy face to turn splotchy. Draco looked down his nose at the boy.
"There are ways of dealing with betrayers that would make the Dark Lord himself flinch. But I don't think I'll employ them. No. Your loyalty is to the Dark Lord. In time, you'll get exactly what you deserve," he said. Crabbe rubbed his wrist where the Dark Mark had yet to be branded.
"Draco…" he started. Goyle glared at the boy that had once been his partner in mayhem.
"I'd be legging it, if I were you," he said, clenching his fists to emphasize his seriousness. Crabbe nodded and quickly escaped to his room. Then Goyle turned to look at Draco.
"You're not going to do anything with him?" he asked. Draco shook his head.
"He'll catch it from the rest of Slytherin. He'll not go unpunished. But I meant what I said. He'll get what's coming to him," he said. His temper still sizzled beneath the surface and he'd rather be on his own to calm it. "I'm going for a walk." The larger boy nodded as Draco swept out of the room.
Of all the people to betray him, Draco hadn't expected Vincent Crabbe. But then, the dim-witted were easily led. He'd been expecting someone along the lines of Pansy, or Blaise… or even Goyle. Someone clever enough to have an agenda. He could have even expected trouble from Warrington and his little gang seeing as the boy felt Draco was competition. What was a little backstabbing amongst the snakes?
Draco knew that someone in his inner circle would deceive him at some point. It was the Slytherin nature, after all. But the fact that it was the least intelligent of the bunch had him steaming inside. His stride increased as his agitation rose. He turned into the main hallway and Draco groaned inwardly as he saw the lanky, redheaded form of Ron Weasley walking slowly ahead of him. Might as well hex him now when the pillock wasn't looking. That way Draco could get the inevitable detention without the pain of having to actually duel with the other boy.
Rather than draw attention to himself or spew the expected insults, Draco just quickened his pace and hoped to walk on by without incident. Luck had escaped him.
"Oy, Malfoy…" Ron called. Draco sighed. It never ends… When he turned to look at the other boy, Ron's eyes went wide, whatever brave comment he was going to make evaporating at the blond's glare.
"You bellowed, Weasley?" Draco prompted. He really wasn't in the mood for this.
"You look like a right piece of shite," the redhead said, taking in the bruising. Draco's eyes narrowed.
"Good of you to say so, Weasel. I doubt I would have spotted it without your keen observation," he sneered. With that, Draco turned and began walking away. To his utter horror, Weasely fell into step next to him with a smirk that rivaled Draco's best.
"What did you do? Lip off to the Dark Lord?" Ron asked the blond. Draco kept walking as the redhead continued to taunt. "Did a big, mean Ravenclaw catch you unawares?" The Slytherin continued to ignore Ron. Ginny emerged from around the far corner in time to hear the last insult. Looking closely at the blond boy before he passed by her, she caught the tell-tale coloring of impending bruises. It looked disgustingly out of place on Draco's pale, perfect cheek. Her eyes then went to her brother as he continued to pester his tense rival.
"What are you on about Ron? Leave him be or you'll get in trouble," she said finally. Ron's attention switched to his sister.
"I'm just trying to figure out who bested the Ferret. You know, give 'em an award for service to wizard kind and such," he relayed to her with a grin. Draco spun around to glare at the two Weasleys.
"No one 'bested' me, Weasel. Maybe your sister is just feisty in a broom closet," he said with a smirk. The implication was better than taking House points. Ginny's eyes went wide for a split second before she caught herself. Draco's eyes looked over the female redhead appraisingly. Ron immediately stopped his stalking of the Slytherin and clenched his fists. Ginny rolled her eyes at the predictability of both boys.
Rather than wait for the fallout, Ginny grabbed Ron's arm and turned him in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. It was better to divert the impending temper tantrum than to let it go its own course, with lengthy detentions surely to be in its wake. Ginny couldn't help but catch the amused look on Draco's face out of the corner of her eye and tried to walk her still-too-angry-to-strike-back brother quicker to the red and gold sanctuary.
"What say you, Ginny?" Draco drawled with exaggerated familiarity. "Astronomy Tower? Midnight? The usual?" Ron's face was completely red as he stopped and spun around on the stairs to face the only slightly worse-for-ware Slytherin, who had a shameless leer on his face. Ginny shot the blond boy a healthy glare as she took control of her brother once more. As they came to the Fat Lady, Ginny spared one last glance down the stairwell, her mind all of a sudden bombarded with thoughts of that one kiss.
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Two hours later…
"Draco?" Ginny whispered as she snuck her way into the well-known astronomy tower. She desperately hoped that she hadn't gotten the Slytherin's not-so-very-subtle message wrong earlier. She'd thought about it for the past two hours in great detail as her brother bemoaned his fate at having Malfoy at the same school. Maybe she was just being stupid…
"Hush it, Weasley. Don't want all the world to know we're here, do we?" a low voice answered her.
"I was quiet," she said as she made her way to the dark corner in which he stood. "Besides, you're Head Boy. It's not as if you will take points from yourself."
"You're late," was all he said. Ginny gave him a look.
"I had to listen to Ron rant about what a bloody arse you are for the better part of two hours. You trying going anywhere when he's like that," she said. Draco smirked as he crossed his arms.
"Two hours, you say? The git needs to land himself a girl…" he said. Ginny rolled her eyes.
"He's got himself one if only he'd open his eyes," she muttered. "But then, she hasn't said a word either…"
"Mudbl… er… Granger?" he stumbled at her dark look. She nodded.
"My brother's oblivious to all but food and quidditch. For a smart girl, she can be awfully thick at times," she said, causing Draco to chuckle. The laugh surprised her and since it was so out of character, she took a closer look at him. He stood in the dark, but the moonlight spilled through the parapet that he'd secluded himself near. His pale skin was illuminated where the light hit and it made the dark bruise on his cheek and his swollen lip stand out even more that it would have usually. Without realizing it, Ginny stepped closer to him. He noticed.
"You're going to ask me if I'm alright, Weasley. I'll save you the trouble and tell you that I'm fine," he said, not moving as she stepped ever so closer. Her eyes roamed over his face.
"You are not fine," she said, letting her hand come up and her fingers brush lightly below the bruise. "How did this happen? Why haven't you gone to Madame Pomfrey?" Draco let himself enjoy the lightness of her touch as he watched her concern for him wash over her face. It was the first time anyone had ever been concerned for him.
"Madame Pomfrey would do no good. My father has always had a way of making his 'lessons' last a little longer than usual. A reminder is what it's supposed to be…" he said.
"A reminder," she ground out, angry at the man who had saw fit to put it there. Draco let out a sigh.
"A reminder is what it is, though. A reminder that I've wasted seventeen years of my life trying to please a person who cannot be pleased…" he said bitterly.
"Then stop trying," she told him. Draco's hand rose to lay over hers. He let it linger for a moment or two before he stepped away and let her hand drop.
"Why did you come?" he asked suddenly. Ginny was silent for a moment as she looked at him.
"Why did you ask me to?" she countered. It was Draco's turn to remain silent. He turned his head to look out over the Hogwarts grounds. It gave Ginny the opportunity to study him.
He looked flawless, even after what had to have been a long and trying day. From his impeccably tailored robes and trousers to the tips of his impossibly black dress shoes, he exuded the sense of wizard upper class. Ginny knew that she, herself, looked a fright. She was curious as to why he had sought out her company, of all people.
"I don't know," he finally said. It had taken so long to get an answer from him that Ginny had almost forgotten she'd posed the question. "I don't know why I asked you here, Weasley…" He'd spat out her name just like he had before. As if it were dirty.
"Are you really going to start that up again?" she asked, tapping into a well of patience that she knew was fairly close to running out. He turned to look at her again, and rather than wait for a scathing reply she did what she'd been itching to do since she first came up here. She stepped up to him, her body brushing his, and gripped his tie. Before he could protest her lips were on his.
It took a moment for the shock to run through his system. Then, his hands found her waist and pulled her tighter against him as their lips parted and the kiss deepened. Ginny's free hand wound up his chest and around his neck as one of his hands caressed the side of hers. She gave a small shriek that was muffled by their entangled lips as he turned them and lifted her to sit on the ledge and stepped between her knees. One hand fell against the stone behind her to keep her balance as the small part of her brain not yet ravaged by lust realized that the only thing behind her was the cool night air… and the cement waiting floors below.
It was a heady feeling to know the only thing between her and the ground was two hands belonging to a Slytherin. Her hands ventured under his robes and wrapped around his seeker-slim waist.
The pain in his injured lip sent urgent messages to his brain for him to stop what he was doing. But Draco knew he couldn't. Her lips were so soft and her scent was so sweet. The combination was doing things to him that he didn't want to begin to analyze. He'd rather just sink into it and enjoy. The slight pain only heightened his awareness of the situation, how his hands roamed gently over the soft curves of her body and his lips found her bared collarbone without effort.
He wanted to return to her lips, but Ginny didn't let him. Instead, her brown eyes roamed over the marked skin of his cheek and a finger lightly ran over his broken lip. Then, she leaned in and tenderly touched her lips back to his. Another shock went through his system at the pure gentleness of her actions. His hands softened their trails over the skin he'd been able to search out. At his touch, she sighed into his mouth and leaned into him.
A sudden sound caused Ginny to break the kiss and look up at Draco. As she hopped off the ledge, he instinctively pulled her to his side and pulled out his wand.
"Someone's coming," she said, still slightly breathless. Draco frowned in thought. After a moment of combing through his haze-filled mind, he realized who it might be.
"It's Granger. She has rounds tonight," he said. "You'd best be off or I'll be forced to take points from you…"
"Oh bugger the points," Ginny said, causing him to smirk. She leaned down and reached for the cloak she'd dropped in the heat of things. "I've come prepared…" With that she flipped the material over her shoulders and Draco's eyes went wide as her body disappeared.
"An invisibility cloak," he said. Ginny grinned.
"I nicked it from Harry earlier," she told him. Draco's eyes hardened at the mention of Harry Potter, but he refrained from venturing down that particular vein.
"You're not as sweet and well-behaved as you have everyone believing," he noted. Ginny shrugged.
"Oh, I'd say I am, but I've learned a bit here and there from Fred and George," she said as she flipped up the hood and completely disappeared. It was just in time, too, as the door to the tower opened and Hermione came into view.
"Malfoy?" she asked. "What are you doing up here? You're not on rounds."
"Would you believe that I enjoy fresh air? It's just my luck that we don't get much of it in the dungeons," he replied. The Head Girl remained impervious to his sarcastic tone. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the door opening and closing softly indicating that Ginny had made it away okay.
"You haven't been torturing small animals, have you?" Hermione asked, taking a quick look over the side of the building just to make sure. "If you have, I'll have to take points, even if you are Head Boy." Draco smirked.
"For all you Gryffindor do-gooders think I'm evil, don't you think I would have graduated beyond that by now? That would be in the firstie guide," he said, crossing his arms in wait. Hermione gave him a frown. Slowly, she started to search the area. She was by no means stupid or naïve. Draco Malfoy was looking a bit more peaked and mussed than usual, in spite of his casual attitude, and it was no secret that he liked to conduct his affairs in the usual haunts.
"I wouldn't put anything past you," she commented.
"That's the most intelligent thing I've heard you say," he drawled. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Just because you're Head Boy does not mean you get to break the rules. Get back to your rooms," she said before turning with a toss of her hair and heading back down the stairs.
Draco just stood there staring at the closed door. There'd been no 'good-bye' or an 'until next time' or anything remotely sentimental from the littlest Weasley. That was perfectly alright with him. It was how he liked his 'dealings'…
The scent of apples still lingered on his robes. With a sigh he leaned back against the ledge and ran a hand over his face. What the bloody hell was he doing?
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