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The next afternoon…
What the bloody hell was he doing? One way or another he was going to end up dead. In either situation, it was probably going to be his father who was going to do it. It was what Draco now had to look forward to after refusing his birthright and snogging a Weasley. Neither was going to end well, that he knew with certainty…
Draco had hoped that a brisk walk out by the lake would suppress the urge hunt down Ginny Weasley to get to know her better – in whichever way she chose. But that hope was crushed as he spotted long red hair that told him it wasn't her git of a brother. It was as if the dam had broken. Now that he'd allowed himself to think about her, talk to her, touch her, kiss her… it was like he couldn't stop. And fate, it would seem, didn't seem inclined to let him. He should be ignoring her, taunting her, insulting her… Instead, though, he approached her.
"Haven't you better things to do than dirty up the only pair of robes you own?" he asked without much malice.
Ginny laughed as she turned to look at him. It warmed him in the cool autumn wind. "I take back what I said before. You are completely insufferable…" Draco smiled.
"It wouldn't do for me to be otherwise," he said. Ginny rolled her eyes.
"What are you doing out here?" she asked. Draco gave a half shrug.
"I believe I'm allowed," he said. Ginny gave him a look.
"That wasn't what I meant," she told him.
"Well, I was going to go get my daily laugh in by torturing the first years, but I decided against it," he said. Ginny arched a brow.
"So you decided to come over here to just stand and glower at me?" she asked. Draco looked at the ground and then looked at Ginny again. With a sigh, he lowered his tall frame to the ground.
"These are very expensive robes, Weasley," he commented. Ginny sniffed.
"And I'm sure you've six dozen exactly like them," she said back.
"But these happen to be my favorite," he said, picking a piece of grass off of himself with a look of disdain.
"Then why are you sitting on the ground?" she asked.
"More's the question as to why you are sitting out here on your own in such troubled times, without the righteous glow of the Saintly Trio?" he asked. Then he frowned. "Tossers, the lot of them…"
"Is it your natural disposition to be unpleasant?" she asked with an amused smile. He frowned.
"You didn't answer my question," he said. Ginny turned to look out at the lake again.
"You didn't answer mine," she said, her smile turning to a grin as he grumbled a string of curses.
"You're a right shifty little bint when you want to be," he muttered. Ginny looked at him with an arched brow. He just returned the look while leaning back onto his elbows and stretching out his long legs.
"Well… I was in the company of a Slytherin my entire first year. I had to have learned something from him. And now… I seem to be keeping the company of another," she said. Draco shook his head.
"Godric Gryffindor must be tossing in his grave," he said. Ginny poked his shoulder with a chuckle.
"So must Salazar Slytherin," she noted.
"What was that about keeping company with a Slytherin? I never noticed anyone in particular," he said. She gave him a disbelieving frown.
"You're quite funny, Draco. You know very well what Slytherin," she commented. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the lake in thought.
"It was no one I knew," he said. Ginny snorted.
"Right, and I'm the bloody Minister of Magic," she chuckled. Then she turned to look at him. "It was your father that devised it all…"
"Well that explains it, then. My father tells me bugger all," he grumbled. He sat up from his lounging position with a frown. "I'd overheard him tell Mother that there was someone he was working through at Hogwarts. The only thing that happened to stand out that year was the Chamb…" Wide gray eyes darted to her as puzzle pieces connected. Ginny lips curved up into a ghost of a smile, but she didn't look at him.
"Yes, it was me," she said.
"What happened?" he asked. Ginny shrugged, pretty sure that no harm was going to come in telling him her grievance.
"Your father gave me a diary that first day in Flourish and Blotts. The diary was possessed by Tom Riddle, a Slytherin many years ago. He was the Heir of Slytherin. Being the naïve first year I had been, it was simple for him to take over my mind and use me to open the Chamber of Secrets," she said. Ginny wrapped her arms around her knees and hugged her legs close to her. She waited for the denials and the accusations from the boy sitting next to her. No matter how he felt about Lucius Malfoy, the man was still Draco's father.
"Well…" he said, letting out a troubled breath. "I've had the interesting pleasure of learning all about possession and the like. You're lucky you came out with all your wits… or thereabouts…" Ginny smiled as she finally looked at him.
"I expected worse from you…" she said. One of his dark eyebrows rose.
"Tantrums and insults?" he asked. "You forget I am fully aware of what my father is capable of." Ginny's eyes darkened at the reminder. Her hand quickly took his.
"I'm sorry," she said softly. "It's six years of habit to expect the worst from you." Draco smirked.
"Then we're even, I suppose, since it's been six years of habit that I thought you to be the sweet, innocent Princess of Potterland," he said. Ginny let go a cry of mock outrage as she swatted his arm.
"I'll have you know that I have dated both Michael Corner and Dean Thomas since that disastrous crush on Harry," she said. Draco smirked, knowing that her crush hadn't been as 'disastrous' as she thought, and he resumed his lounging position.
"Bit of a disappointment, was it, to find Potter snogging his own reflection?" he asked. Ginny bit back a chuckle as she hit his arm again.
"Leave Harry alone," she said. "And if anyone's been snogging their own reflection, it's more likely to have been you." Draco reached out and took a piece of her flame colored hair between his fingers. He studied it for a moment before he looked up at her.
"Strange… you don't look like me in the slightest," he said. It shut Ginny up and caused her cheeks – and the Weasley tips of her ears – to go slightly pink. He chuckled as he dropped the piece of hair and gave her a self-satisfied smirk.
It took a moment, but Draco sobered when he realized just how pleasant a time he was having. This would not do at all. He stood up slowly, not wanting to draw attention to his sudden distress.
"I'd better get back. The more I sit here, the better chance I'll have to endure the presence of one of your… friends," he said. Ginny followed suit.
"They're not so bad," she said merely out of habit and caused him to chuckle.
"Everything Slytherin in me wants to hex you for saying that," he said. Ginny gave him a wry look.
"Thank you for your restraint," she said. He just smirked once more. As he made to walk away, she reached out and touched his arm. The autocratic mask hadn't had time to form and his gray eyes turned to roam her face. Ginny stepped close to him and her other hand gripped the front of his robes and turned him to completely face her.
"I don't know what this is, Draco, but I can't seem to tell myself to stop," she said softly, putting to words his earlier musings. Although his eyes were still wanting, he pushed her away to arms length.
"This is too dangerous. For both of us. My father used you once; he will not hesitate to use you again. And he certainly wouldn't hesitate to make my life a living Hell. Especially now," he said. She shrugged off the hands that rested on her upper arms.
"Strange how when I'm kissing you, your father never seems to be an issue. This isn't about him, Draco. None of it is," she said. Ginny was standing closer to him now, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off her body. He reached a hand up and gently ran it over her cheek. Her dark eyes fluttered closed and he couldn't resist any more. Leaning down, he kissed her.
After a moment he stepped back, and the look on her face did things to him that he'd rather not think about. But as much as he was a master of denial, physiology was another matter entirely. If he didn't walk away now he'd probably drag her off to a dark corner somewhere.
"Bye," she said softly, sensing his urgency to disappear. Before his mind could tell him to bugger off, Draco leaned down and gave her one more, soft kiss. Then, he turned and all but sprinted back to the castle.
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Malfoy Manor…
"Your son has become something of a disappointment, if I've been told correctly," a strong, powerful voice said. Lucius Malfoy kept his head down as he knelt, but knew that his master was just as strong and powerful as his voice.
"May I ask what you have heard, my Lord?" he asked. There was silence.
"Stand up, Lucius," the command came. Lucius did as he was bid. The Dark Lord approached his faithful servant. "I am fully aware that the Malfoy line tends to be loyal to our cause and oftentimes, very strong willed. It would seem as if you received the loyalty, and your son, the strong will." Lucius bowed his head once more.
"I am sorry, my Lord," he said. When he looked up, he could see a smirk on Voldemort's twisted and snake-like face.
"Your son's failings do not reflect upon you, Lucius," he said. The Dark Lord's voice was almost pleasant.
"Thank you, my Lord," Lucius said. Red eyes met the elder Malfoy's cold gray.
"You are my favored Death Eater, Lucius. You are in command of my army. I expect you to fulfill my orders without hesitation," Voldemort said. Lucius bowed his head.
"Of course," he said. Voldemort looked pleased.
"Good," he said. "Kill your son…" Lucius did not flinch at the order. Instead of answer, he gave the Dark Lord a tight nod. With a nod in return and a look of almost sadistic glee, Voldemort swept out of the study and back into the drawing room where the other Death Eaters had gathered.
Lucius still stood where he'd been the entire conversation. Kill Draco… it had been an order and it was expected to be done. His lips tightened at the thought of his useless, treacherous son. No… Lucius wouldn't kill him just yet. He would not think that the last seventeen years had been a complete waste. His son would be a Death Eater yet and the Dark Lord would be pleased beyond reward. And Lucius had a feeling he knew just what to do to change Draco's mind…
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Hogwarts…
"I'm worried about Harry," Hermione said to Ron as the two sat in the common room. The redhead looked up from the book he was attempting to read.
"What are you on about?" he asked.
"Well… he's been to see Dumbledore a lot lately. And his school work is slipping," she said. Ron let out a snort.
"Only you would find lack of enthusiasm for school work as a dire situation," he teased. Hermione let out a huff.
"Yes, well Harry's work has lacked in the past, but it has always been better than yours. I read through his latest Muggle Studies paper – his best subject, mind you – and he could have rivaled you in it being the worst paper in Hogwarts history," she said. Ron sat up straight.
"Hang on… Harry's doing worse than me?" he asked. Hermione nodded, a solemn look on her face. "There's trouble then… But why hasn't he told us?"
"Do you think it has to do with the Order?" Hermione asked. Ron shrugged.
"Bugger if I know…" he said. "But it wouldn't be a surprise."
"If it is the Order, why wouldn't he tell us?" she asked. "It's not as if we're not a part of it."
"It could be have to do with Voldemort," Ron suggested. "If that's the case, it's not like we'd be much help." Hermione fell silent. The two looked up as the common room door opened.
"Hey Ginny," Ron called to his sister. She gave them a half-hearted wave as she made her way towards the dorm stairs.
"Hello Ron… Hermione… Harry…" she said, a small smile on her face. Ron and Hermione looked at each other as the girl disappeared.
"Well that was odd," Hermione said. Ron nodded.
"I haven't seen her that barmy since… well, her crush on Harry," he said. Then his eyes went wide. "You don't suppose…"
"Well, Harry has been off on his own quite a bit. Maybe they've…" she started, but Ron made a face.
"Don't finish that sentence. As much as I think Harry would be good for Ginny, I certainly don't want to think about them bloody snogging… I don't even want to think of them holding hands… or smiling all googly-eyed at each other. Blimey…" he said. Hermione chuckled.
"Ginny's sixteen, Ronald. I don't think she'd appreciate the fact that you've thought any different," she said. Ron just lifted his chin stubbornly.
"She's still my little sister," he said. Hermione shook her head.
"You're hopeless," she commented.
"When Harry comes back, I'll have to get his intentions. Bill and Charlie would have my head if I didn't," he said.
"What about Percy, Fred and George?" she asked with a frown. Ron snorted again.
"Percy's still a bloody tosser, and Fred and George love Harry. They'd more likely pat him on the back than read him the riot act," Ron said. Hermione smiled.
"You love Harry too. He is your best friend," she reminded him. Ron picked his book back up.
"Oh I know. But I'm the only male Weasley here. It's my duty."
"Do you have to be so dramatic, Ronald?" she asked. Her question went unanswered as the common room door opened once more. In walked the subject of their conversation.
"Hello, Harry," Hermione greeted. Rather than say anything, Ron stood up and crossed the room to where his friend stood. The redhead towered over the shorter Harry with narrowed eyes.
"What's going on with you and my sister?" the redhead asked suddenly, catching Harry off guard.
"Wh.. what?" he stuttered. Ron crossed his arms and looked down at his best friend.
"I want to know what is going on with you and my sister," he demanded. Harry's jaw dropped open to say something but nothing came out. If anything, he'd expected from his friends the demand to know what he'd been doing with Dumbledore or the Order's plans or even Voldemort. Maybe even a school report from Hermione. But certainly not this inquisition. In fact, he'd prefer a grilling on Voldemort or even Hermione's scolding.
"Nothing…" Harry said weakly. There was nothing more he could say. Hermione decided to take pity on him.
"If you say so, we believe you. Don't we Ron?" she asked, moving to lay a hand on the redhead's shoulder. Ron relaxed slightly.
"Well, why the bloody hell isn't there anything going on with you and my sister?" he asked in an about-face. Again, Harry's jaw dropped open. Hermione's as well. "Do you find something wrong with her? Because if you do, I'll beat you to a bloody pulp…" Harry held up his hands.
"Uh… there's nothing going on with me and Ginny. There isn't because… well… because. And no, there's nothing wrong with her. She's a very beau… uh… pretty, intelligent girl…" he said. Hermione looked to Ron.
"He answered your questions, Ronald. You can stop giving him dirty looks," she said. Ron relaxed his stance and sat down in his chair again, but he was apparently not completely satisfied as to the results of his questioning.
"Well, then…" he muttered before looking at Harry again. "Hiya, Harry…"
"Hello… Ron," Harry answered the greeting warily, not sure what his best friend's mood was. Hermione led Harry to the couch and sat next to him.
"On to more important questions. What is going on with you, Harry?" she asked. Harry swallowed hard at the question. Dumbledore had advised him to stay quiet about what was happening, but things were moving along quickly and Harry knew that his friends would need to know.
"The Order is planning an offensive on Voldemort," he said. Hermione gasped and Ron sat up straight, eyes wide. There was silence as they absorbed the severity of Harry's words. Finally, Ron looked to Hermione.
"I expected to have to drag it out of him," he said. Hermione didn't say anything but looked worriedly between her two friends.
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