THE PERFECT STORY
by yeminquon
Disclaimer: I may own a fabulous new haircut and pink tips, but I do NOT own the Harry Potter series and co. Sorry. I know you're disappointed.
A/N: I got so many reviews so quickly for chapter six I decided I'd cut you guys some slack and go ahead and post chapter seven. One of my favorite chapters so far, I hope you enjoy it!
CHAPTER SEVEN: TURNING
It was anguish beyond anything she had ever imagined. In her mind's eye, she saw Martha; a quiet, shy, beautiful woman maybe a year her junior who wanted nothing but a regular life. Love. Happiness. She asked for hardly anything yet lost it all. It was Draco's fault. Him and his idiotic goons and Voldemort.
Wiping her eyes, Ginny laid on her bed, watching the shadows as day turned to evening, evening to dusk, and dusk to twilight. She was fuming. It was a different type of anger, however. She usually dealt with her anger the easy way: yelling at whomever caused her frustration. But in this case it would probably be better to trick him or tough it out. Like she had a choice, really.
And with those thoughts in mind she drifted off to a fitful sleep...
She dreamed of her first year at Hogwarts. Of the beauty Riddle had shown her then rudely took away, only for her to discover that he was him, Voldemort. She dreamed of dying in the Chamber of Secrets. Of the hollow, musty wet feeling that had overpowered her senses as her life began to fade. Of Harry- oh, Harry- saving her from the terrible curse that was draining her. And then it was gone. Instead she saw Martha, screaming and sobbing as Draco Malfoy rid her of her life. And then she saw just her and Draco; alone. An overpowering sense of want enveloped her as he rushed forward, pulling her into her arms and-
Ginny suddenly woke, sitting up in her bed, a cold sweat lacing her forehead, her heart fluttering frantically. It was dark outside, and even darker in her room. She sank into the grimy bedcovers, sobbing like never before.
Her mother's voice echoed through her head. "Make the most of it, Deary. It is the best we've got."
And recalling the sweet, soothing voice of her mother, she drifted off to a dreamless sleep.
It was in the morning when Draco visited her again. And, my! Was she happy to see him.
"So... Are you ready to prove your worthiness to me?" he snarled as he shut the door behind him, locking them in the room alone.
Ginny rolled over on her bed.
"I could get rid of you here and now." he continued, leaning against the wall. "It takes two words, a swish of a wa-"
"You won't though," Ginny whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. "You won't."
"And why the hell not?" he inquired ruthlessly, walking over to the bed, his high-heeled boots clicking on the floor, similar to that of his ex-girlfriend's stilettos.
"Because, as you said, I'm of worth to you." she replied softly, still staring at the wall. Draco leaned over the bed, running a gloved forefinger down her cheekbone. Ginny flinched at his touch, then relaxed. "And as tough as you act, I don't think you enjoy it."
Draco recoiled, wiping his glove on his robes. "Enjoy what?" he demanded testily.
Ginny rolled over, staring at him blandly. "You know exactly what I mean."
Draco stared at her blankly. "I have no idea."
Ginny sat up. A single tear ran down her cheeks. "The killing, Draco," she whispered, as though horrified. "All of the deaths. You don't like it. I can tell."
A muscle twitched in Draco's studly face. "What... How? And who says-"
"The edges of your mouth sag, even when you're attempting an evil you'll never master." Ginny sighed, running her fingers through her matted hair.
"But..." Draco looked defeated. He hoped she was the only one who noticed.
"Why do you do it, Draco Malfoy?" she cried. "Why do you do it? Is something testing you, Draco! WHY? You could be so much! Yet you have to degrade yourself by succumbing to your overwhelming past. Why can't you defy your father's legacy and be something of actual importance and right?"
That sounded more like her journalist self. Malfoy remained speechless.
"I- you could be loved," she whispered, tears cascading down red cheeks. "There's such potential in you... You just have to find it."
Draco tripped over his own feet as he backed towards the door. Grabbing the knob, he looked at her, eyes locked. Ginny never wavered in her gaze.
He had known his entire life he was better than the so-called scum the Weasleys. He was a man of cloth, of wealth, while Ginevra didn't have two galleons to rub together. Yet for that one moment he felt low. Lower than ever before. She may be poor but she knew who she was and stood by what she believed in, despite the obstacles that stood in her way.
Why couldn't he be like that?
Preview of Chapter Eight
"You got a one then?" Kingsley panted. George pointed to the damsel in the chair. Kingsley smiled. "Ah, Pansy Parkinson, Junior Director of Muggle Relations..."
"Sir," Pansy sighed. "I'm an Obliviator."
YQ
