Chapter 3: Dark and Light

Ginny

Earlier that evening, when Malfoy came down to the dungeons, he'd looked more like his usual self. His pointed face was full of smug malice, and his eyes were dry.

But he's losing it now.

Her questions are unsettling him, she can tell. He's running into the lake, for Merlin's sake! Her instincts yesterday were spot on: there's something big going on with Malfoy. She can barely see his face in the faint wand-light, but she can feel the turmoil and panic emanating from his body.

There's a sudden surge of water, and they both lose their footing. Ginny gasps with the shock of the snow-melt. She reaches in the darkness and grabs hold of his arm. He hauls her up quickly.

"Shit." Draco stutters, teeth clanking. "Gotta turn around."

They are both sopping wet, their cloaks heavy, sodden wool dragging them down. Wands alight, they fight the current back the way they had come.

But in the darkness, the way back isn't clear. The fresh surge in the current has brought the water far past their ankles.

"I think we're lost," she stammers. "We didn't come this way. There must have been another turn-off somewhere." When he doesn't answer, she pushes him. "Come on, Malfoy. Your common room is in the dungeons. Shouldn't you know where you are?"

"I've never been down here in my life, Weasley. Why would I know where we are?" He's sneering at her again, but he's too cold to inject his usual spite into it. Instead, his voice is full of anxiety.

They hold their wands high for the small light they provide, and hold on to each other as they wade through the black water.

They must be climbing because the water begins to recede, the current flowing in the opposite direction. Ginny takes a step, and her sopping shoes hit dry ground. Malfoy releases his hold on her cloak.

Ginny casts a quick drying spell and feels the heat coming off her robes, as if she's just stood in front of a raging bonfire. "Here, Malfoy," she says, and she casts the spell on him.

He stops shivering. His silvery-blond hair dries and falls into his eyes. He brushes it back impatiently. "We could have drowned back there. Filch should be sacked for this." Malfoy looks genuinely shaken. "If I told my father about…" He seems to remember where his father is, and he falls into a despondent silence.

Ginny bites back a withering comment about Lucius Malfoy. There's no use fighting now, and she has to agree with him anyway; Filch crossed a line. They may be dry, but they aren't out of the dungeons yet. They could be trapped in this labyrinth of dark hallways for hours. "Are you sure you don't know the way back?" she says finally.

"No more than you, Weasley. Just because I'm in Slytherin, doesn't mean I've got the whole bloody dungeon memorized." He sounds as exhausted as she feels. He leans against the wall.

On impulse, Ginny walks up to him. He's a head taller than her. In the wandlight, his hair is pale gold, and there are shadows on his face, heavy shadows beneath his grey eyes.

She reaches out and takes him by the wrist. His skin is cool in her palm, but her own hand is sweaty. She can hear his shallow breaths, and her own quick, nervous breathing. "Harry thinks you've joined the Death Eaters," she says carefully.

Malfoy's arm jerks in her grasp, but doesn't pull away.

"We all think he's mad, though. You're only sixteen, aren't you? You're not even of age to perform magic outside of school." She unbuttons the cuff of his sleeve and pulls it back. He doesn't say anything, doesn't look at her. Ginny holds her wand in one hand, and runs her fingers over the Dark Mark with the other. Her heart is beating in her ears.

She can feel his other arm slipping around her waist, drawing her into him. The serpent and skull are burned black against his skin. She traces them with shaking fingers. "I didn't really believe it. Say something," she whispers. "Malfoy. Say something…"

"You can't tell anyone." His voice sounds hoarse in her ear, his breath a warm puff against her cheek. "They'll throw me out of Hogwarts. You know they will."

"And why shouldn't they? You're a Death Eater." Her heart beats louder at the words. A Death Eater. "You're part of something evil. Why shouldn't they throw you out?"

She drops his arm to back away, feeling nauseous, but his grip on her waist tightens to bring her closer.

"He'll kill me. If they kick me out of Hogwarts, I'm as good as dead. Father has already lost standing with the Dark Lord because of what happened last year. At the Ministry."

"It's what you all deserve anyway," Ginny says brashly, but something in his voice, his proximity, makes the words catch in her throat. She raises her head up to look at him, and his eyes are wide and frightened. "Isn't it, Malfoy? Don't you want us all dead and imprisoned? Isn't that what you all are fighting for – the Death Eaters, I mean?"

"I just want…" he stammers. "I just want my father back. I want to stay alive. Things are not like I thought they would be when the Dark Lord returned." He says this like it's the first time he's admitting it. "We were always waiting for this. The Dark Lord's return was supposed to be this glorious moment. " He's speaking into the darkness to a spot above her head, and his voice is barely audible. "What if I can't do it?" he whispers. "What if I don't want to do it anymore?"

"Maybe you're not as hateful as you'd like to be." She leans into him slightly, and this small action seems to propel Malfoy forward and into her. He draws her against him and kisses her so lightly that their lips barely touch. Her hands flutter away from his wrist to press against his chest. She can feel his heart racing beneath his robes. She could push him away now. She should push him away, but her shaking hands won't cooperate.

Ginny opens her mouth a little and his tongue is warm on her lips, and then he is kissing her harder, kissing her like something he's been holding back has broken loose.

Ginny closes her eyes. She feels like there is a humming cord that runs from her lips to the pit of her stomach. He draws her into his arms, and she grasps his neck, his fine hair, to pull him forward. She's never felt this before, not like this. Not with Dean, or Michael; not this trembling deep in her gut.

Malfoy pulls back for air. He drops his chin on the top of her head, breathing heavily.

"What is this?" Ginny whispers. "What are we doing?"

"I don't know." He doesn't let her go. "I don't know anything. I feel…I need to…I need to get some sleep, maybe." He pushes her away, and he looks down at her. His eyes are full of fear. "Weasley." He says it like it's only now hitting him who she is, what they've done. "Please. Please don't tell anyone."

She stares into his face, into his wide, pale eyes. "I have to. I have to tell." She pauses. "At the very least, I need to know what you're planning."


Draco

What am I planning? I'm planning to kill Albus Dumbledore. His face feels flushed in the darkness. Father always said he was shit at controlling his emotions. Draco runs a shaking hand through his hair. He is losing his grip.

Why did he kiss her?

How could he let her see the Mark, after so many weeks and months of carefully hiding it?

It was a moment of weakness. It was like some secret, shameful part of himself had crawled out of the dark space in his head to take control while the rest of him watched in horror, unable to stop.

Draco feels overtired. His whole body is thrumming. His lungs are constricted with anxiety and he can't take a full breath. He pulls further away from her, and yanks down his sleeve. He does up the cuff carefully, avoiding her gaze.

"Come on," he says gruffly. "We need to find our way back. Once we find the torches, I think I can figure out the way out of here." He pushes ahead without looking back to see if Weasley is following.

They stumble along the dark tunnel until they reach a fork. Draco takes a left on instinct alone. They walk with their hands trailing along the stone wall, Weasley a few paces behind, Draco leading the way, taking turns as they come. They could be walking in circles for all he knows.

Eventually, she speaks up at his side. "I can't let this go. I need to know the truth, now more than ever. You know what the Death Eaters are planning, don't you? We need to tell Harry. You can help us, Draco."

The use of his given name makes his heart beat faster, and Draco quickens his step. If she tells Potter, he's finished. It's all finished. "If you tell Potter, I'll be gone. The Dark Lord doesn't ask questions. He…he's just merciless."

"I can't let you put anyone in danger. You sent the necklace to Katie Bell, didn't you?"

Draco stops, holding on to the wall. "I didn't mean for her to get hurt," he says tightly. "It was meant for someone else."

"Who was it meant for, then?" She takes his shoulders and turns him towards her.

He should shove her aside, but he hesitates. Draco doesn't know why he's so drawn to her. She's just another hyped-up Gryffindor. He'd denounced her a million times over. She comes from a rubbish family with rubbish ideals, and she cares nothing for the purity of her blood. She's pretty, sure, but there are plenty of pretty girls around.

"Let go of me, Weasley," he says, his voice cold. "I don't want you touching me. Forget what happened."

"You're too soft for all this. I can tell you that right now. You're too soft to be a Death Eater." Her eyes are fierce and even mocking, but there is warmth in them. "Come on, Draco. I want to help you. Let me help you."

"Just forget it, all right?" he repeats, and he strides past her down the stone corridor.

She follows in silence, deep in thought. No doubt she is planning how to tell the Headmaster about his Dark Mark. Draco pushes the thought from his mind.

Finally, they wind around a bend and find the enchanted torches flickering in their alcoves. A few minutes later, Draco recognizes the paintings lining the walls, and he leads them back to through the corridors to the staircase. Filch is nowhere to be found, and the dungeons are deadly quiet. It's the middle of the night.

At the foot of the staircase, Ginny looks briefly into his eyes with an uneasy frown. She seems like she wants to say something, but hasn't decided what that should be.

What is there to say?

In the end, she just walks away, up the staircase, into the gloom.

Draco waits until she's completely lost in shadow, and then heads slowly to the Slytherin common room.

It's deserted. He makes his way to the boys' dormitories and collapses onto his bed without bothering to take off his robes. He shuts his eyes and lets the darkness close blissfully in on his mind.