Okay guys, here it is!
Chapter 6: Closing an Open Door
Mary Ellen left me alone for all of Friday, probably too afraid I would go complain to Malfoy and then she would get the boot. She did flinch when I had to walk through the main room, which I can admit I did so frequently. It got a little old by mid-afternoon though so I stopped.
Without that distraction my brain felt strapped from all the things that had happened, and the dreams were becoming more frequent. My head ached something awful and I laid it down on the desk in hopes of a few moments of blissful nothingness.
"You can't run from everything! You can't run from this!" He shouted at me.
"I am not running from it! I wouldn't even if I wanted to! This is just stupid. They're my parents, and I will tell them when the time is right!" I yelled back at him.
"That would be right now, you dimwit! They deserved to know the minute it happened and yet you've been keeping it a secret from everyone for weeks now!" He crossed his arms and lowered his voice. "I'm sorry, that wasn't right of me. It's just hard to watch you grow up and join the Order." He still looked hurt, and I felt guilty at keeping that secret from him.
"But you of all people must have known I would join the moment I could. You must have known that I would do anything to be in the fight." I reasoned.
"I should have, especially after all the conversations we've had about the Order." He sighed and started pacing back and forth. "It's just hard. I just want to protect you, to keep all the bad things as far away as possible. War will strip you of all the innocence you ever had and more. Just be careful, you're the only one keeping me sane now. If I lost you, I don't know what would happen, to me or your family. Please, be careful."
I cupped his face in my hands, needing to feel him as much as he needed to feel me. "You won't lose me. Dumbledore said he wasn't going to send me on anything dangerous, and that it was probably more important that I remained at Headquarters to keep everyone's mind at ease."
"Well, it never made me feel much better that you were here, the worst place for an attack. Just promise me that you'll be careful."
I smiled at him. "Of course, but you have to promise too, okay?"
"I promise." He smiled back.
"Ginny, darling, you have to understand how your mother feels. The whole family now really is in the Order. She always thought you would be the one to escape all this madness, the one she wouldn't have to worry about. But now you've gone and joined behind all of our backs. We just worry about you is all, we just worry." Dad patted my shoulder a bit and looked over a Mum as she sniveled into Lupin's shoulder.
I felt guilt for making them worry, and then anger that they worried so much. It wasn't like I couldn't take care of myself. I'd fought in battles before. Didn't they know I would join? That I'd be compelled to join the fight?
"Look at it from my perspective, Dad. I have to fight. I was destined to join this side ever since I got involved with that Diary. I fought in the Ministry in my fourth year. I joined D.A. I've been here at headquarters every summer. I've listened to everyone make stupid plans all the time. I fought in Diagon Alley. I simply can't not join." I insisted.
Mum burst into more tears, and Dad stared at his shoes. "We don't want you to be involved, Ginny," Ron said from his own seat across the room. "We want you to be safe."
My hands clenched, and my knuckles turned white. "Don't you see? I'm already involved. I already do all the things you guys do; I'm just not an official member! You can't keep treating me this way! I—"
"It's her bloody choice. She's an adult now, and she can make her own mistakes." He growled from the corner. "Stop smothering her. It's about time she learned to stand on her own feet."
The first thing I realized when I woke up was that my headache had disappeared. But the dreams were coming more and more and worse and worse. It seemed every time I closed my eyes there was something there, just waiting for me to let my guard down. And it was terrifying.
It was so much simpler before. Maybe if I could just talk to Mum again, like I did when I was younger, like I did at lunch earlier this week. I was honest with her, honest with myself. She aroused emotions in me that I hadn't fully acknowledged until that moment.
Maybe she could help me realize just why these dreams kept on coming. But they weren't just dreams, were they? Repressed memories? A week ago I woke up from something fabulous and couldn't remember it an hour later. Now? Now, I couldn't remember what happened yesterday, but that dream from two nights ago wouldn't go away.
Mum could help; she could help me figure out why Malfoy brought out all the—the memories. Something tingled at the back of my mind, something about Malfoy, something about lunch. He'd mentioned it to me and to Mary Ellen! And he shouldn't have known about it either!
I'd just come back; there wasn't time for me to tell him. And he'd said something about Spencer approving of it too. How could he know all that, unless someone told him? Perhaps Mum had felt the need to ask his permission, since he had taken control over my schedule. But then, she never asked permission for anything.
At lunch it had seemed like someone suggested some mother-daughter time to her. The reports I didn't finish that night, I distinctly remember starting the third and feeling very tired about halfway through it. But it was finished the next morning. Who would do such a thing and why?
"Is there a problem?" Malfoy leaned casually against the door frame. "I certainly hope not, or Lilla might scold me again. She seems to have this idea that she's your mother. When I tried to explain that you already had one, she got all defensive and started mumbling threats under her breath."
I shook my head at him and then smiled. "What's the dinner plan tonight?" That was it; I could see it now.
"Well, every Friday, Tinky likes to make a five course meal and insists that I dress accordingly for it. It's much better food then what we had last night. You don't have to come if you so choose, but it would please Tinky, and me, if you did."
"Couldn't hurt, could it?" My mind was working quickly. Of course it wouldn't hurt, me anyway.
He smiled brightly and it looked real for the first time. "Only if Tinky decides to make sweet potato soufflé again—it tends to be a bit on the explosive side. Shall we?" Like a true gentleman, he offered me his arm, and we walked to the apparation point. "Dinner will be at eight." He said just before apparating.
Immediately in the house he turned down another hallway, leaving me with the impression that he was fleeing something. Only a man afraid of something would walk that fast and with that kind of stride. But what could he be running from? And why did I suddenly feel so very alone?
"Miss, would you like to take a bath before dinner? To refresh you from work?" Lilla appeared at my elbow leading me up the stairs. "You look a bit stressed."
"Yes," I said in a hallow voice, my brain still stuck on Malfoy. Just why had he done all that stuff?
Lilla filled the bath with my favorite scent before quietly closing the door and leaving me to myself. Slowly I disrobed and once again critically assessed my body while the bath filled. My limbs were still small in a rather unhealthy way, but my skin no longer exuded the essence of death. No longer dull looking, my brown eyes actually had a quirky little glint, and one corner of my mouth turned up to form half a smile.
Could a few life-like dreams have that much of an affect on a person? Or had something else made the difference?
"You're so odd." I said to him without ever looking away from the clouds. "Where do you come up with stuff like that?"
"I saw it on a poster in a muggle school. But really, think about it; Knowledge is power, and doesn't power corrupt? Should you really be doing all that studying?"
I laughed. "You do know I'm not studying, right? This is definitely not something academic. Hermione gave it to me."
He leered at me. "That's just education of a different kind."
"I'll have to remember that for the next time Mum catches me reading a trashy romance."
We both lapsed into a happy silence. It felt good to lie out in the sun as if we had no cares or worries. And when it was just the two of us, we really didn't. When the sun shone so brightly and the wind played gently with my hair, it was awfully hard to remember we were fighting a war.
For just a moment I closed my eyes, devoting all my attention to the sounds and scents of this place. The grass rustled, and the birds chirped occasionally. I could practically smell the sunshine as it rushed down to coat everything with goodness. That might just be what kept away all thoughts of the war.
"You know something else?" He said softly.
"What?"
"It's only since I started spending summers at the Burrow that I've spent my leisure time outside. And it doesn't feel odd at all. Sometimes I wonder just what I did before." A sad note crept into his voice.
"Really?" I rolled over to look at him only to realize his face was less then an inch from mine.
My head shot up only to fall back down again as my backside slid across the bottom of the tub. "Oh shit!"
"Miss! Miss! Are you all right?" Lilla banged on the door. "Miss?"
I rubbed the back of my head gingerly. "I'm fine, Lilla, just bumped my head is all. Owww."
"Okay Miss, Master says you have an hour until dinner."
"Thank you, Lilla." I grabbed the nearest towel and proceeded to wipe away all traces of the water. Maybe a bath was a stupid idea; it was starting to bring out those stupid half dreams.
Lilla had laid out a classy, black shirt and a cream, knee length skirt. With a touch of mascara, a bit of black eyeliner, and a good drying spell I looked sophisticated enough for dinner. And there's nothing like a good outfit to make a girl ready to conquer the world, or at least one man.
If only I could find the right damn pair of shoes, the kind made for walking over anything. Shoes always made the outfit. There, sticking halfway out from under the chair just where no one would look, were the stupid things. I quickly pulled on the sling backs.
But when I stood up, I had to sit down again. It's not everyday one looks up to see a doll laughing. And Lucy was certainly laughing at me from her spot on the dresser. It was the kind of laugh that lingered in the eyes long after the noise had faded. She laughed as if she knew what I was going to do, as if she had seen this sort of thing before. Her eyes seemed to scream that my plan wouldn't work, that it would all come back to haunt me.
But that just might have been my own worries showing through. She might have been laughing at the sight I made crawling around on the floor, mussing up a good skirt just for a pair of shoes. Even as I thought about it she seemed to shake her head no and laugh just a little harder.
I growled and pushed her off the dresser.
Malfoy stood as I entered the dinning room. "Good evening, Miss Weasley. I hope you enjoyed your leisure time this afternoon." He gestured to the beautifully set table. "Shall we take our seats?"
Obviously he didn't treat all his guests equally as Pansy had told me. "Thank you." I smiled at him, feeling a bit like an actress but not quite ready to play the part. Lucy was still laughing at me. "I hope your time was spent enjoyably as well."
"Yes, I finally had time to finish Wuthering Heights." He didn't expound, and I took the extra time to ignore the cackling in my head.
We both started the meal with a light bowl of soup and equally light conversation. It surprised me, but I found the trivial topics interesting, probably because they had very little to do with reality. And Malfoy was very knowledgeable on the mundane. Something about the whole thing felt real, and I had to fight to remember my mission.
"And then Spencer told me that poor Fudge actually spilt the coffee all over himself." He chuckled, and I saw an opening.
"Speaking of Spencer," I tried very hard to sound casual. "Don't you think it's about time he got married, settled down with a few kids? He'd make a great dad, don't you agree?" It sounded too rehearsed.
"Sure, but I don't think he's looking for a wife right now." Malfoy said mimicking my casual tone, but I could hear the suspicion in his voice.
"You're right, of course. I was just thinking that he did an excellent job stopping the argument between you and Harry the other day." That was when everything started so why not begin the conversation there?"
He stared at me, almost in shock but not quite. "So you heard that," He said the words with brutal honesty, revealing the melancholy he seemed to carry around everywhere. It sounded as if he'd been carrying around a great secret, one so great he couldn't stand to keep it from the one person not meant to hear it.
"Did you suggest to my Mum that she take me out to lunch? And what about those reports I didn't finish that night, did you write them? Why did you defend me in front of Mary Ellen and everyone else? Why do you do all this and still run from me?"
I needed to know the truth far more then I needed my sanity. That was why Lucy mocked me. She knew that this would be the night everything came out into the open. She had seen it all before.
Malfoy stared down at his plate for a moment before beginning to speak. "For all our differences, Potter and I do have a lot in common, far more then most anyone would guess. We both have a sort of hero complex, although no one really notices mine. We both have someone we want to protect more then life itself. We both want to help you, to bring you out of your shell." He looked like a little boy caught helping the sister he said he despised.
"Why?" I asked, more confused then ever, and yet something deep down told me I already knew the answer.
"That's simple." He gave a harsh bark of laughter. "Why? You were the only one who let me prove my worth. Everyone else either accepted me or didn't. Ron and Potter will never accept me as one of them, and your Mum pulled me into a big hug the minute I showed up at headquarters. But you bothered to find the real me."
After that little speech, his sudden silence startled me. Malfoy wasn't the type of man to make heart felt confessions or let emotion into any action. He looked up at me with unveiled eyes that held me frozen in the moment. His stare drew me into a world that felt so familiar but at the same time alien. It was as if he were revealing everything in that single gaze.
What could I do when faced with all that?
I ran.
Not for the first time and certainly not for the last, I ran. Out of the dinning hall, through the foyer, past a group of house elves, and up to my room I ran. A thousand images raced through my mind, a bright sun, a bottle of shampoo, roses, a dance of passion, a boiling cauldron, the dark mark. Everything swirled around; something inside of me had broken.
I collapsed on the carpet before my bed, a heavy weight on my chest, my breath short, and tears on my cheeks. My body shook beneath the heaviness of his confession, the burden of his emotion. How could he hide that much inside, away from anyone's sight? Everyone seemed to know just what I felt. How could I answer the worry and fear in his eyes? Especially when I couldn't handle my own? How could he care so much while I remember nothing?
Quickly I pulled off the damn black shoes and threw them across the room at Lucy. How could everyone hide so much from me? I pulled my knees up underneath my chin, locking up my fears and refusing to look Lucy in the eye. "How" didn't really matter much in the long run, only what.
What was I going to do now?
Run? It was certainly doable, I'd run from the things often enough before to know. But I wanted to run from his tangle of emotions, from mine, and the more I pushed Malfoy away, the more persistent he became. Then with his persistence came his reasons for pulling me out of my safe shell, came hope and happiness, came memories.
Perhaps then the answer was to not run, and then that would in fact be a way of running. But even so, when I obeyed his foolish rules and acted like a goddess, the memories came.
Besides, nothing could shield me from his eyes anymore. And all of the emotions there, swimming around in those deep silver orbs brought up something else, brought up Him. But not so much him as the longing I felt when thinking of him. He was a missing part of me, as missing as those damn memories. Or perhaps he was missing because I was missing those memories. Either way, something in Malfoy's—it was like looking in a mirror. His unknown desire matched one of my own unattainable longings.
He and Harry had things in common, but nothing could come close to the things Malfoy and I shared.
There was a knock on the door, and for a moment I just sat there and stared at it. But the knocking persisted. Suddenly it hit me, someone, not Lilla, wanted in, and I scrambled to get the door open.
"I'm terribly sorry for barging in on you like this Miss Weasley." Malfoy stood stiffly, and his voice had returned to his normal cold and stilted tones. He didn't look me in the eye.
"What can I do for you, Malfoy?" I asked as soon as I recovered from shock. We were back to the norm, no attachment, no emotion, nothing.
He visibly gulped, and I briefly wondered what for. But no, detachment was far too appealing for me to ask what bothered him. "I, uh, I request that you remain in your room until Lilla comes to wake you tomorrow morning." Tone brisk, stance sturdy, I could neither question nor deny his request. But I couldn't help wondering why. Once a door opened, could it really be shut again?
"Of course, it is your home, and I am but a guest."
"Good night Miss Weasley."
"Good night."
A strange melancholy tune filled the air, lonely, but not sad I realized. Only someone who's been alone for a long time could be not sad about such a thing. And as I sat on the bed, listening, it dawned on me that the music didn't wake me, but rather started the moment I woke. The low bass notes rumbled into something deep in my stomach, something hot and desperate for company. It burned and roared more and more the longer I remained still. The eerie notes called to me as no other piece of music ever had. It pulled at something I had buried away long ago.
But maybe that wasn't the reason I disobeyed Malfoy and left my room. Perhaps the reason I left had more to so with the strange dream I couldn't remember and the pain of vulnerability that came with it.
Either way, I still left.
The music wafted through the halls, an unending cry of loneliness. I followed it blindly, literally with my eyes closed in concentration. Every part of my being vibrated with the need to find the source of the music. And the call ended only after I reached the open door of the music room and glanced at what lay inside.
"Hello, Miss Weasley," The words came out in one thick slur. "Have you come to mock me in my weakness? Or do you want to tell me how I am playing the piano improperly?" He asked, a dangerous smile on his face and eyes dulled by the alcohol. "Because I can tell you, I'm playing just the way you taught me. It really is an extension of myself, the only true way to express my desires."
"Malfoy?" my voice was as unsteady as his.
He turned on the piano bench, blasting a steely glare at me. The full blast of his frustration and anger knocked away what little sense I had left. "Draco," He growled.
"What?"
A long white finger beckoned me forward in one irresistible motion. Malfoy pulled me down on the bench next to him, his eyes never leaving mine. "Draco!" The tone was soft but insistent.
Two things happened in that moment. One, I lost any connection to my brain that I might have retained. A fog rose in my head, completely preventing any kind of thought. And two, I finally felt free.
"My name," His mouth found my ear. "Is Draco."
"Malfoy, I—"
"His lips brushed a line from my ear to the corner of my mouth. "Say it. Say Draco." His tongue darted out and tasted that corner.
But I couldn't call him by name, not anymore then I could protest the nearness of his body or how his nose teased mine. There was no objection to the burning taste of scotch on his breath of the way his hand slowly crept up my side. I simply had no ability to deny the need radiating from both him and me.
Nothing but silent consent.
Instead of speaking, since words were denied me anyway, I turned into his kiss. At first the kiss was bland, a mere touch of two lips, but after a muttered "oh god" everything changed. And then began the onslaught.
He didn't need to tease or coax me into anything; I was just as hungry as he. In desperation he bit my lip, and I tore a few buttons off his shirt. We couldn't get to each other fast enough. The only things that mattered were his hands, my lips, and the need blossoming between us.
Malfoy groaned as he peeled away the last of my clothes. "Oh Ginny."
"Shh!" I put two fingers across his lips, afraid he was going to do something foolish like declare some secret love for me. "Don't talk."
And that was that.
It was only afterwards that I realized I'd cried "Draco!" at the end. He had ravished me as thoroughly and as tenderly as possible. Though his own mind must have been overwhelmed with his own need and longing, he had still taken delicious care with me. It was also only afterwards that I realized I wasn't a virgin.
And on to the next one!