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Lucius smiled as the Mark on his arm burned. It was only a matter of time now. Things would start to come together. The Dark Lord would be pleased. The steps he, Lucius, had taken and was about to take was to ensure victory.
With a smile, he sat behind the desk and sipped at the sub-par cognac his fellow Death Eaters had acquired for him.
The Mark continued to make its presence known. Lucius relished the pain. There were others who could barely stomach the searing pain. But to Lucius, it was the sense of importance and purpose. But tonight, it was the sense of certain triumph.
He sipped the amber liquid once more, imagining it to be the best of the best, and waited for the call to be heard.
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The Great Hall helped him not one bit. It was dinner time and the littlest Weasley was no where to be seen. It did not set his mind at ease. Saint Potter and his two extra appendages were there, as were all the appropriate Gryffindors. Why hadn't she come to dinner? Was it really worse than Dumbledore had said? Had his father done something to her?
Draco put down his fork. He was no longer hungry since his stomach threatened to abandon his body.
"What's wrong, Draco?" Pansy's refined drawl interrupted his thoughts. He turned a cold look in her direction. She was not fazed.
"Nothing that you need to concern yourself with," he said. Pansy gave him an arch look but turned back to her dinner. Draco knew he would have to watch her in the coming weeks. It was close to her eighteenth birthday. The Dark Lord would call her…
"You don't look well, mate," Blaise leaned over and informed him. Goyle leaned closer as well.
"Maybe you should go see Madame Pomfrey," he said. Draco looked at the two boys that he semi-trusted. He hoped that trust was not misplaced like it had been with Vincent Crabbe… who now sat with Warrington and his crew at the opposite end of the table.
"That's actually a very good idea," he said. Goyle smiled at the unaccustomed praise. Draco stood and nodded a farewell to his fellow Slytherins. Maybe Ginny would be in the infirmary… It would be a reasonable explanation for her absence.
He mentally berated himself as he stalked off towards the medical wing. It was one thing to 'accidentally' come across heated situations with the littlest Weasley. But to willfully search her out as he was doing now? It was completely daft… if not just a little too dangerous at this point. Especially with his father looking for him.
But, he couldn't help it. He had to make sure she was alright.
Draco pushed the infirmary door open just slightly to make sure the Heroes of Hogwarts were no where around. Satisfied that the room was empty, he pushed the door all the way open and made his way down the room to where the only patient sat, engrossed in a textbook. Draco stopped in his tracks when Madame Pomfrey came out of the supply closet, arms full of linens. Shifting the weight, the nurse put a hand to her chest since the sudden appearance of another student startled her.
"Oh goodness. Mr. Malfoy… are you alright? Is there anything I can do for you?" she asked. The blond shook his head.
"Actually, no, Madame Pomfrey. I'm here to see someone," he said. Madame Pomfrey couldn't help but look a little bit shocked at the blond boy standing in font of her. The only student in the medical wing was Ginny Weasley. A Slytherin to see a Gryffindor? This Slytherin to see that particular Gryffindor? She didn't say anything at this interesting turn of events, but hustled off to her office, offering a friendly smile to Draco as she passed.
"Don't be overly long," she said. Draco just nodded once and continued down to the middle of the spacious room.
"You Gryffindors do like to keep this place in business. Think of all the Slytherins toiling away in the dungeons to make potions to use on you scrappy lot," he said with a shake of his head. Ginny didn't even flinch from her reading.
"Actually," she said, turning the page of the book, "Harry has been the only other Gryffindor in here this year."
Ginny finally looked up at him.
"Shouldn't you be at dinner?" she asked with a frown. Draco just gave a shrug of one of his shoulders.
"Did he hurt you?" he asked without preamble, sitting on the bed next to her. Ginny smiled at him and cautiously took his hand.
"Nothing more than a shove," she said. Then her eyes turned to look at the door with an annoyed look. "But they're treating it like I'd half-died or something…" Draco looked down at their joined hands and tried not to think how here words were probably closer to the truth than either of them would like to admit.
"Yes, well… I'd heard about Professor Sprout. They're probably overcompensating for that," he said. Ginny sighed.
"Probably. Thank Merlin I get out of here in a little bit. I'm so tired of being thought of as little, weak and impressionable," she said. "I'm a bloody sixth-year… not some ickle firstie." Draco didn't say anything, but dropped her hand, stood and started to pace rather furiously. Ginny just watched him for a few moments. Usually was so calm, collected and… arrogant. But now, he looked young. He looked unsettled.
"Are you alright?" she asked. His gray eyes turned to her.
"You know, that is the second time you have asked me that," he commented as he sat down on the edge of the bed again.
"So?" she asked. "Does it make my concern any less valid?" She caught a miniscule twitch at the corner of his eye. For some reason, it made Ginny smile.
"I don't need your concern. I don't need anyone's concern," he growled, making Ginny's smile turn into a frown.
"If that's the way you want it then what, precisely, do you want from me?" she asked crossly. There were three possible avenues that the Slytherin could take at this point and Ginny wasn't exactly sure which one she wanted him to take.
Rather than say anything, Draco just took her face in his hands and kissed her. Her eyes went wide in shock for a moment before she leaned into the kiss and took an active part in whatever he was trying to demonstrate to her. This was certainly not one of the avenues she had thought of, but it was better than two of the other three and she wasn't going to argue.
Somewhere in the peripheral of her mind, Ginny knew that it wasn't smart to kiss this particular boy in someplace that was so public, especially with a nosy Madame Pomfrey only a mere doorway away. But she didn't care and carefully scooted closer to him, the textbook Hermione had brought her falling neglected off her lap.
There was a tiny gasp that caused the two to part. Rather than look for the source, stormy gray and brown eyes stayed locked on each other for a moment. Then, Ginny turned to see a shocked Hermione standing in the doorway. It took a moment for the older girl to get over her surprise, but instantly looked over her shoulder after she'd caught her bearings.
"Hermione," Ginny rasped. Any control over her voice had been lost. When Ginny looked back to Draco, she was surprised to not see him sneering or whatever typical facial expression a moment like this usually called for in the Malfoy Book of the Unpleasant. He looked more annoyed than anything as he finally stood up and gave Hermione an acknowledging nod.
"Harry and Ron are on their way up," she commented softly, but any warning she wanted to give was for naught as the two boys made their way into the room.
"Malfoy!" Ron growled as he stopped in his tracks. There was a tense silence as the older Weasley looked between the calm Draco and his slightly troubled-looking sister.
"Come to check on Dear Old Dad's handiwork, have you?" Ron's voice broke the silence. Both Ginny and Draco could hear the sneer in his voice. The Slytherin just turned an arrogant chin to the Trio.
"Must you stick your nose in everyone's dealings, Weasel?" he asked haughtily. Draco couldn't help but be amused when Granger stuck her elbow in the tall, ginger-haired idiot's side and muttered a harsh "See?" to him. Ron muttered to the girl that it wasn't the proper time for her ribbing and glared back at Draco.
"Why are you here?" he asked. Any reply was cut off as the red-headed girl let out a half-huff, half-moan of anger. Ginny stood from her bed and mirrored the familiar scolding position the Weasley matriarch favored when addressing her children – hands on hips and a glare on a usually pleasant face.
"He's here because he wasn't feeling well, Ronald," she said simply. Ron rolled his eyes, but his eyes went back to warily appraise his blond rival.
"I'd say it's a permanent case. We'll just hope it's terminal," he said. Draco stepped away from Ginny's bed and up to her brother. He was nearly as tall as the red-haired behemoth.
"Not nearly as terminal as your never-ending poverty," he sneered. Ginny scoffed as she marched over to the two boys.
"Same old song and dance. Would you two shut it," she said. Then she looked to Harry and Hermione. "Is dinner done then?" The two nodded.
"Sorry we didn't bring you anything," Hermione said as she looked between Ginny and the boys. Ron and Draco were close to coming to blows, and despite all of Harry's outward calm, he too was close to snapping as he looked between his best friend and the blond. Ginny waved off Hermione's comment.
"That's fine, 'Mione. I'm about to head back to the Tower anyway. I'll have a house elf bring me leftovers," she said. The comment snapped Draco from the staring contest with the Weasel. He turned and took Ginny's arm, stopping her from leaving the medical wing without dealing with him.
"Are you sure that Madame Pomfrey has looked you over completely?" he asked. The Trio's eyes bugged at the unconscious concern in Draco's voice. But Ron quickly snapped out of it and snatched the pale hand from his sister's arm.
"Oy, don't you dare grab Ginny like that. Just because your father did a number on her doesn't give you the right to stick your pointy nose into our business," he growled. Draco's eyebrow went up.
"Just because you're a bleeding idiot doesn't give you the right to stick your ugly mug into my business," he countered. Harry frowned.
"How is Ginny your business?" he asked. Draco chuckled inwardly at the tinge of jealousy he heard in the other boy's voice. Bet Potter didn't even recognize it…
"She's not. But my father is, so bugger off," he said. Ron crossed his arms.
"I believe that is my line," he said. Draco gave an all-suffering sigh.
"Why torture myself with your presence when I can be having a good time elsewhere?" he asked before elbowing his way between Ron and Hermione and sweeping out of the room.
"Bloody tosser," Ron muttered before crossing the room and picking up Ginny's discarded books.
"Why must you keep picking fights with him?" Ginny asked. Ron snorted.
"Malfoy is a walking fight," he said. Ginny rolled her eyes.
"Many would say the same about you," she said as they made their way out of the infirmary. Ron stopped walking as he thought of something.
"Hang on…" he said with a frown. "Why are you sticking up for the Ferret? Again?" Ginny turned to see both Ron and Harry looking at her warily. Hermione saved the day as she looped her arm through Ginny's and turned them down the hallway again.
"Is that what she was doing? Just seems as if she was trying to protect you, Ron, from doing something stupid. Like getting a detention from our favorite professor for accosting his prize pupil, perhaps. In the infirmary no less. You know how Malfoy turns his words. He'd have you in Snape's clutches so fast you wouldn't know what hit you," she said. Ron's jaw dropped at the accusation.
"I would never…" he said, but was cut off by Harry's chuckle.
"Yes you would, Ron," the Boy-Who-Lived laughed. Ron looked at his friend with wide eyes.
"You're a bloody turncoat as well," he squeaked. Hermione watched Ginny from the corner of her eye as they continued towards Gryffindor Tower.
"Consider us very lucky. Malfoy could have taken fistfuls of points from us if he wanted. Why he didn't, I don't want to venture a guess," Hermione said, smiling to herself as Ginny's tense shoulders seemed to relax at the comment. The two boys followed behind, Ron glowering at the bushy-haired girl's back.
"He's bloody well planning something, that's why," he grumbled loud enough for only Harry to hear. Harry only chuckled.
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The Mark burned. It was the first time in months that the Mark had called. With a sigh, he rubbed the searing spot of flesh just above his wrist. He looked around his peers to make sure none of them noticed his distraction or his inattention to the subject at hand.
Then, with as steady voice as he could manage, he excused himself quietly from the table. It took for him to step outside the closed doors of the Great Hall before he slumped wearily against the wall as the pain radiated up his arm. No matter what anyone said, there would be no getting used to the pain.
With a few large gulps of air, he finally righted himself and started down the hallway. The Dark Lord wanted to see him. There was no disappointing the Dark Lord.
It was good he'd escaped notice within the Great Hall. The call had taken him by surprise, and it wouldn't do for someone to notice.
Little did he know… someone had…
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