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Goyle had informed that blustering idiot of a boy that Ginny Weasley insisted on calling a brother of the situation at hand. Draco was right, Goyle thought with a learned sneer. Weasel really could be one gigantic waste of air.
After all the trouble that he, Goyle, had gone through to get into the Gryffindor common room, one would think that the mention of his sister and Death Eaters in the same sentence would cut short the Weasel's rant on Slytherin scum…
"Well, well, well… Gregory Goyle. Draco Malfoy's most loyal," a voice stopped him in his tracks as he made his way down the Gryffindor stairway. He turned to see a wand pointed at him and a normally cheery face sneering at him.
"What do you want?" Goyle asked. He knew he could take the other person simply with his size, but there was another face sneering at him and another wand pointed at his heart. Even he knew that being outnumbered was a disadvantage despite his size.
"Seeing as you, a Slytherin, are in the Gryffindor hallway, I'd think that would be the question we would ask you," the cold voice corrected. Goyle frowned and shifted on his feet. He needed to get to Draco, but these two insisted on asking his intentions rather than assuming what they were as most in the school normally did.
"I'm torturing Gryffindors," he said simply and started down the stairs once more. There was a snort of disbelief from behind him that caused Goyle to pause once more.
"I think you were warning Weasley…" the other voice said. Warning bells went off in Goyle's mind.
"What would I warn Weasley of?" he inquired. There was icy laughter behind him.
"That his sister is about to become fodder for the Dark Lord," one of them said. Goyle looked over his shoulder.
"And how would you know that, Creevey?" he asked. Colin looked over his shoulder to his friend, then back to Goyle.
"I know more than you think," he said. His counterpart chuckled. Goyle couldn't place the other person. All he knew was that he wasn't in Gryffindor.
"You have no idea what you are doing," Goyle said. Colin laughed.
"That's what's so nice about all of this, mate. We don't need to know what is going on," he said. Advice Draco had recited to him over and over again since the moment they had first stepped foot on Hogwarts grounds together ran through Goyle's head. Get as much out of them before doing what you have to do… In this case, he'd have to run. But first, he needed to know Creevey's game.
"Why don't you need to know?" he asked. Colin smirked and it was worthy of a Slytherin.
"Because Warrington knows exactly what he is doing…" the blond said before raising his wand. Goyle felt only a moment of panic before the spell was leveled at him.
"Stupefy…"
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And when man faces destiny, destiny ends and man comes into his own.
– Andre Malraux
Draco opened his eyes to see a ceiling of trees blocking his view of the fading winter sky. There was a fire burning next to him and he could see the outlines of a half a dozen robed men. With a heavy swallow, he looked back up to the trees. He knew what the fire was for. And he knew that one of those robed figures held the wand that would brand him a servant to the Dark Lord.
Draco slowly sat up and ran a hand over his robes. His wand was predictably missing. A quick look around told him that there was a small number of Death Eaters circling the fire and preparing the feared ritual. After the meeting at Malfoy Manor, Draco knew that this was his father's doing. He should have suspected that despite all of his denials, all of his standing up to Lucius, that he would eventually end up in this very position. Nothing had been denied his father over the years, and Draco was quite certain that the same was true of Voldemort.
Now, he sat here, under the watch of Death Eaters he had never had the pleasure of meeting, without a wand and only two outcomes that the evening could come to. He would either have the Mark by sundown, or he would be dead.
"It would seem that my son has finally come to his senses," a voice said. Draco's head twisted to locate the familiar voice. "Bring him to his feet…." Two sets of hands gripped Draco's arms and roughly pulled him to a standing position. Draco closed his eyes to settle the swaying motion the world seemed to be employing at the moment. When he opened them again, he stared straight at the man with whom he shared blood, looks and temperament.
"Come to my senses, how, exactly?" Draco asked. "Did you mean that literally or figuratively?" Any reaction Lucius may have had was hidden behind the mask.
"Your cheek is not amusing, boy," he growled. Draco rolled his eyes.
"I didn't say it for your benefit," he said. The mask nodded. A fist met the side of Draco's face with brutal force. When Draco stood upright once more, he stared at his father.
"Too frightened to do that on your own now, are you?" he asked. Draco knew that he was only asking for more trouble. But if he was going to die tonight, he wasn't going to go quietly. The robed figure of his father moved forward, only stopping when he was mere inches from his son.
"I am afraid of nothing. And soon, so will you. Once you have the Mark, power beyond your meager comprehension will be yours," he said. Then, he turned and motioned to the Death Eaters that had been standing behind him. "Prepare the ritual…" Draco let out a heavy breath. He was going to receive what he'd been trying to avoid for the past two years. And it was all because he'd gone about it the wrong way. Draco had always prided himself on his understated and often overlooked intelligence. But he had been stupid to think he could pull this off alone. He'd let no one know of his true intentions, not even Zabini or Goyle. And it would ultimately lead to his death.
"I didn't come here to take the Mark," Draco said after a moment. It took a moment, but Lucius understood the underlying threat his only son had veiled in the statement.
"And if I must," Draco continued. "I will go to my grave refusing the Mark and the Dark Lord. I will not give you the satisfaction of believing you won. I would rather see you dead by the Dark Lord's hand…"
"You are a coward to refuse the Mark," Lucius spat at his son. Draco's eyes narrowed as he looked at the man who was often called his mirror image.
"I am not a coward to reject something I don't believe in, Father," he said, looking around at the other black robed men staring transfixed at the Malfoy showdown.
"So you've joined with Potter, Dumbledore and the rest then?" Lucius said with a sneer evident in his voice.
"I've joined no one, Father. I will not be the Death Eater you groomed me to be all my misbegotten life. I've no wish to become you. But I've also no wish to become Potter. I don't believe in him either," the younger Malfoy said simply. "This is not my future…"
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Ginny's eyes widened as she sat behind the brush. She understood now. What he'd been saying all this time… he would not fight. He would not willingly take the Mark, but he would not pick up his wand for Dumbledore either. He'd said those very words before, but it never hit her until this very moment. Draco Malfoy did not stand for either side, his own beliefs somewhere stuck in the middle. He didn't care about Voldemort, and he certainly didn't care for Dumbledore.
When he'd told her he was taking the Mark, he'd been testing her. As low a blow as it may have been on his part, it was simply his way of operating. She knew that now, after days of introspection. He'd given her a choice… and she'd failed miserably. He'd wanted her to trust him. He'd wanted her to love him for all that he couldn't show he cared for her. But instead, her prejudices against his family, his supposed destiny and the Mark itself had blinded her to what he had really been trying to do. Draco Malfoy had been trying to protect her. And he had been trying to protect himself. He had been trying to protect whatever future they could have together in whatever way he knew how.
"You are no Malfoy…" Ginny heard his father say. She held her breath as Draco gave the older man a very familiar sneer.
"Oh, you're quite mistaken, Father. I am most certainly a Malfoy. You taught me that Malfoys look out for their best interests. We are not cowards, merely cautious. Your best interests may lay with the Dark Lord, but mine most certainly do not. Potter will win the war; you only fool yourself to think otherwise. I will go my own way after Voldemort is vanquished and you are in Azkaban… or, preferably, dead," he said. Lucius glared, the gray in his eyes becoming molten.
Without warning, the elder Malfoy whipped out his wand and sent the Crucio curse at his only heir. Ginny's startled scream mingled with Draco's own scream of pain. There wasn't much room for error at this point. Restraining herself from running headlong into the mess, she could only hope that Goyle was able to reach her brother without much hexing involved. Ron trusted no Slytherin, but with her name on Goyle's lips she hoped that his reaction would be quick.
Ginny watched with a lurching stomach and an aching heart as Draco was tortured under the curse and beaten mercilessly by those standing by. She wanted so badly to rush the band of black-robed bastards and kill them all. But her mind told her heart that it would be nothing more than a suicide mission and not help Draco in the slightest.
Suddenly, there was a rustle of brush behind her and she whirled around, wand ready, to see Ron, Bill and Charlie approaching.
"Ginny!" Ron hissed, his stride lengthening to reach her quicker. "What the bloody hell have you got going through your head? Have you gone absolutely mental?"
"Silencio!" Charlie charmed in his brother's direction. Bill frowned in disapproval as they all knelt next to Ginny.
"Ron'll carry on for eons if we don't shut him up now," Charlie said in explanation. Ginny smiled in gratitude.
"Now," Bill started. "Why have you got us all here in a panic…" Ginny opened her mouth, but rather than try to explain she pointed to the small clearing beyond the foliage they were taking refuge behind. Charlie and Bill carefully edged forward so they could see what was going on. Ron followed suit, an angry frown still on his face at what he saw as an unfair silencing. The elder Weasley's blue eyes went wide.
"Bloody Death Eaters!" Bill hissed as he turned back to Ginny. "We've got to inform the Order!" Both Ginny and Charlie held their oldest brother back as Ron continued to appraise the situation.
"No…" Ginny hissed back to Bill. Charlie shot a look at her, knowing there was an ulterior motive for their only sister to call on her brothers… and only her brothers. Ron kicked Charlie in the shin and pointed to his mouth. The counter charm was cast and Ron could speak once more.
"Is that Malfoy out there?" he asked, horror in his voice at the sight of the broken and bloody blond boy. Ginny's eyes went back to the scene and nodded. Ron's eyes widened even more when he realized that the Death Eater watching over the proceedings was the elder Malfoy. Then he shook off the sympathetic feelings. It was bloody Malfoy.
"Where are Fred and George?" Ginny asked. Ron turned to his sister and was taken aback at seeing the anger and pain etched into her pleasant face.
"They… they're on their way… as are Harry and Hermione," he answered.
"Why are we here, Gin? To stop the Death Eaters that you don't want us to stop?" Bill asked. Ginny's mouth was dry, but she spoke anyway.
"Draco doesn't want the Dark Mark," she revealed. Then she pointed to the fallen form. "As you can see, they are trying to talk him into it…" It was then that Ginny noticed Charlie watching her closely. Ron continued to peek over the leaves and branches to watch in morbid fascination.
"You're…" Charlie started, but Ginny cut him off with a glare. Ron's head snapped around to look at his sister. Charlie had been about to say something and Ron had a suspicion that it was something he should be privy to.
"Stop…" Ginny warned. Then, an animal-like whimper escaped her throat as a particularly brutal kick was administered to Draco's middle. Ginny watched as two bulky Death Eaters approached Draco's now-bared arm. She straightened her shoulders, stood and gripped her wand.
"Ginny… what…" Ron stuttered. But she didn't answer. Instead, she walked out of the brush that had been hiding her. In her anger, she barely registered the fact that she'd disarmed the two men holding on to Draco. She marched right past them and up to Lucius Malfoy. The blond man, in his sadistic amusement, removed his mask to smirk at her.
"Leave… him… alone…" she ordered. The man continued to smirk at her, but Ginny held her ground, her wand pointed directly at the elder Malfoy's heart.
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"What the bloody hell is she doing?" a voice hissed from behind an astounded Ron, Bill and Charlie.
"Why are you lot just sitting around gaping and not stopping our sister from marching right up to Death and saying 'cheerio, mate'?" George scolded after his brother. He other three Weasley brothers turned to look at the twins.
"And what do you think the three of us can do against the lot of them?" Charlie asked, his gaze flicking back to where his sister stood.
"Besides get ourselves killed," Ron grumbled. The twins scoffed.
"And you expect Gin to fare any better?" they asked in unison. The five of them turned to look at where their family'sonly femalein their generation was threatening Lucius Malfoy. Ron shook his head miserably.
"Where did this standing up to Malfoy thing come from?" he asked. Any response was cut off at the arrival of Harry and Hermione.
"What's happened?" Hermione asked quietly, crouching next to Ron.
"Our dear little Gin-bean has decided to take on the Death Eaters by her lonesome. She's lucky they're too startled to kill her properly…" Fred grumbled. "Mum'll have our hides for sure…" Harry stood and pulled out his wand.
"We'd better help her then," he said. His eyes roamed the area and took in the fallen boy. "Is that…" Ron nodded to affirm Harry's thought.
"Malfoy…" then he pointed to the man now smirking down at Ginny. "… Malfoy Senior." Whatever the statement was meant as, Harry paid no attention to it. Instead, he marched out from behind the grove of bushes, a gaggle of cursing Weasleys scrambling after him.
"At least the odds are a little better," George commented.
"But still not in our favor," Hermione reminded him as she gripped her wand nervously.
"Spoilsport," Fred said in lean of his brother's silence. Hermione gave him a pained smile as Harry began shooting off disarming spells.
"Not a spoilsport… reasonable and rational," she answered.
"To-may-to, to-mah-to," was the reply.
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He didn't remember all of what happened to bring him to this state. Draco's eyes focused on the grass and weeds that his head now rested against. Pain radiated from every fiber of his being and he could only assume that a spell had been leveled his way. And the way that certain parts of his anatomy ached, Draco could only assume that he had been kicked while he was down.
"Your fate will rest with ours," he heard Lucius growl. Draco's eyes looked up and focused enough to see his father indicate for the rest of the Death Eaters to circle around his fallen son. One of them brandished a glowing wand, ready to burn the dark insignia into pale flesh.
Panic and self-preservation kicked in and Draco struggled with everything in him, jerking his arm in order to free himself and find his wand. It was fruitless. Fists and feet found vulnerable spots on his already hurting body. The sudden flare of pain made him go limp and he stopped struggling. The men holding him chuckled as they let his body fall harshly back to the ground. Draco didn't move. He couldn't.
The sudden lack of movement caught his attention. It was as if someone had cast an Immobulus spell over the whole gathering. The robed man with the branding wand was staring, transfixed, at something behind him. Draco looked around at all of the others.
Surprise registered in all the Death Eaters' eyes… except in his father's as he removed his mask. His silver eyes held hatred and an unsettling amount of glee. Draco couldn't help but be curious. If only his body would let him turn to see what had caused such a reaction.
"Leave him alone…" he heard a feminine voice growl at Lucius.
Draco closed his eyes from where he lay on the ground. Those three words transported him back to Flourish and Blotts the beginning of second year. Those three words that had been merely uttered to him as he'd picked on Potter years ago were now spit out as a vicious warning. A dare, almost, to cross her… Draco opened his eyes to see Ginny - tall, skinny, powerful Ginny - standing up to his dark robed father. She looked small compared to his father's height. He wanted to stand up and help her, to guard her from whatever Lucius planned on throwing at her… but his legs would not move. With everyone focused on the standoff, no one really noticed as one dark robed figure slipped away from the scene. But Draco caught the movement and registered it somewhere in the back of his mind. He had other pressing matters as could feel the blood trails running down the side of his face. His arm hurt where the Death Eaters had tried to put the brand and he was sure that he was seeing spots. He wanted to call out to her, to tell her to leave, but his voice would not work.
It took a moment for Draco to realize that the spots weren't actually spots… they were shadows approaching from behind, cast from the fiery blaze that now seemed to consume the Forbidden Forest. It was strange how the glow from the fire made it look as if each person had a crown of red hair…
"Draco has betrayed his blood... he has refused the Mark that was his birthright. It is time for him to suffer," Lucius hissed as he drew his wand up and pointed it at Ginny. "Get out of my way, girl…"
"Never. You'll have to kill me first," she said.
"So be it… it will only add to Draco's suffering to watch you die," Lucius growled. Draco wanted to protest and tried to sit up to do so – to do anything but lie there and let it happen - but he felt a cool hand on his forehead, keeping him still. Looking up, he saw Granger taking an assessing look at his injuries. It was then that he took in the presence of Potter and the Weasleys – all one thousand of them, or so. A wall of Weasleys now guarded him from his father.
"Expelliaramus!" a chorus of voices yelled as the beginnings of an Unforgivable formed on Lucius's lips.
"You so much as breathe in her direction, Malfoy, and you will wish you hadn't," Ron warned, his wand trained on the now-wandless elder Malfoy. Granger had stayed by Draco's side while the others had gone to stand protectively next to their sister. His gray eyes went wide as the redheaded gaggle (with a dark head thrown in) was now circling around him. He had no idea why… except for their inherent goodness that propelled them to stand up for the downtrodden – or in his case, those beaten bloody to the ground. Draco's eyes tried to spot what had happened to Ginny, but he couldn't see her. He swatted Granger's hand away from his head and tried to sit up.
"Mal…" she started to scold but was cut off by an explosion. This time Draco leapt directly to his feet, feeling rushing back into his extremities and the pain making him lightheaded. Half of the brood of Weasleys had been thrown back from the force of the explosion, but none of them were hurt as they clamored back to their feet.
Death Eaters scrambled in the confusion and started to dart away into the forest. Draco could see the Weasel and the twins throwing curses at the departing figures, but there was no luck. The other two Weasleys had no fear of throwing the killing curse and quickly took out three of the Death Eaters. Fleeting, Draco wondered who they had been. But Ginny's startled yell called his immediate attention. He turned to see his father wield his wand and send the girl flying into a tree. She promptly fell to the ground in a heap. His legs threatened to give out on him as he tried to scramble to where Ginny had fallen but he kept them moving by sheer will alone. It was only an escaping Death Eater that stood in his way now. Draco stared at the wand and knew that there would be two words that would be said next. And there was nothing he could do since he was wand-less.
"Stupefy!" another voice called. Draco watched, astounded, as the man fell to the ground and Granger stepped out from behind him. The last of his strength left him and he fell to his hands and knees. Granger ran to him and tried to help him back to his feet, but he shook her off.
"Gin…" he said too softly for the person he was calling for to hear it. But Granger did.
"She's just fine and Charlie's with her," she told him. He looked up at the bushy-haired girl and saw concern marring her brow. "We've got to stop your bleeding, Malfoy…" He didn't say anything to her, but tried to stand up instead. And for all of his effort, Draco did the most dignified thing he could and passed out.
It is to be remarked that a good many people are born curiously unfitted for the fate waiting them on this earth.
- Joseph Conrad
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