Chapter 4:
The human spirit is a marvel. Able to adjust to things beyond imagination it allows the survival of the humans even when things look most doomed for failure. Unlike many creatures humans were able to ensure their survival by adapting to whatever changes they were subjected to: Snow, heat, rain. They learned to swim, to swing from trees, to climb mountains. They discovered fire to keep them warm; they created machines to keep them cool. In all these situations they not only survived but thrived.
And so it came to pass that many weeks after Ginny's capture when she thought her life was over, she had spent almost three days without tear stains on her cheeks. She even found joy in small things like the bird singing outside her window. She was thankful for her life.
"Morning," she called as Draco brought her breakfast. They did the same thing every day: she woke up no longer aching from the stone floor (her skin had grown used to its hardness) and she spent her time alone thinking of her parents, and her brothers, revisiting as many memories as she could so as not to forget what they looked like, felt like or smelt like. It was not long until Draco entered (grumpy as usual) to bring her breakfast (usually some bread and eggs – no gourmet), and watched her eat. Then he would walk her to the bath where she would take her time to cleanse herself while he sat there, usually busy in his thoughts. After he would bring her back to her cell and leave her there alone. She found ways to occupy herself, she collected splinters and bits and pieces from the ground and organised them in order of shape, colour, whichever grouping she could come up with. She could now identify the rats that ran buy every so often, and she gave them individual names. All in all, she was her own company, and she had to admit that she was starved for social conversation. A few times when Draco entered she was tempted to make conversation, ask him where he had been, what he was going to do, what was for lunch. But he made it clear that everything he did for her was because he was made to do it, and that he would not spend any more time then was necessary with her. Still, she always greeted him each day with a 'morning' and everyday he replied the same way – with a gruff.
"Breakfast," he said as he put the platter of, suprisingly, bread and eggs down at her feet. She sat comfortably so she could eat and when she was done she got up and he led her, grasping her arm tightly, to the bath.
Routinely, Ginny undressed and Draco made himself comfortable on his usual chair. He had gotten into the habit of bringing with him a book, usually one about improving battle skills or spells.
"You know," she began as she doused her naked body with water, "You never talk." She did not know what possessed her to initiate conversation. She supposed it was the light mood she had that day, from knowing that she had made it thus far.
Draco was annoyed. "Less chat, more bathing," was all he replied.
"You were never so quiet in Hogwarts."
"I never talked to you in Hogwarts."
"You did. It was never pleasant, but you talked."
"Thank you for the flashback. Now, hurry up, I have things to do today."
"I can tell you what happened after you left. Let's see, well Mc-"
"I know what happened after I left thank you very much."
"Really? I didn't think anyone would keep in contact with you."
Draco was silent for a moment. The truth was, no one kept in contact with him after Hogwarts. Not even Pansy, Crabbe or Goyle. No one bothered to send him a letter. No one wanted to know him after-
"I would think that no one would want to know you after what you did."
"You're pushing my buttons Weasley."
But she couldn't help it. She knew very well that while she was here her life basically lay in his hands but she hated him for what he had done, she had started herself on the topic and she couldn't stop her aggression.
"I mean killing Dumbledore."
"Shut up."
She turned around and faced him and it was almost like he was looking at hatred itself, the anger and pain in her face was as plain as day. "Killing the man who practically brought you up-"
"SHUT UP."
"Watching Dumbledore, someone we all looked up to, watching him plead for his life-"
He walked up to her in haste, he was so close now that her wet body touched his as she breathed, leaving spots where the water had soaked in, "SHUT UP," he warned dangerously.
"Seeing him on his knees too weak to fight, looking into his eyes and then you ready to kill him-"
"SHUT UP!" he screamed, and before he could stop himself he slapped her with such a force she collapsed into the bath.
Ginny was in so much anger she hardly even felt his blow. She was so angry that instead of crying she laughed, "You thought it made you a man? You thought it brought you honour? You asshole," she was almost hysterical with laughter, "You're just like your Father. A coward. That's what you are. Picking on a weak old man? Well done you coward. You bloody coward." She regurgitated the last sentence with such force that the room seemed to shake.
It was Draco's turn to laugh now. It was a hurt laugh just like Ginny's, filled with pain, "I'm the coward? You may think what you want of me Ginny, you may hate me as much as you like but at least I never ran away from the truth, at least I didn't pretend like it wasn't happening, at least I didn't desert my family in their time of need, when they needed my help and protection. Hate me as much as you like. You must hate yourself ten times more."
"YOU DEMON," she sprang towards him in rage and clawed at his clothes and skin. He fought to keep her off him but she was determined. Finally he managed to push her off and she collapsed, once again, into the bath.
"ENOUGH," he yelled, breathless. "Bath time is over. Put your clothes on, let's go."
For once, Ginny didn't argue. Quietly she put her clothes on and quietly she was taken back to her cell. There were no more good days after that. Every day was like hell to her. Every day she thought of how she had deserted her family. Every day she thought of what an awful person she was.
XX
Early one morning Draco entered her cell, but instead of bringing her breakfast he held in his hand the Daily Prophet. Ginny had not set eyes on it for what seemed like an eternity. Curiosity filled within her but she did not speak. She hadn't spoken to him since that day.
"You might want to see this," he said. He waited for a response and when he did not get one he threw it at her feet. She looked up at him before picking it up to read.
It was an article about her and the title read: Youngest Weasley Missing – Latest Death Eater Deed? Below was a photo of her family, her mother was in tears, gripping her father's shirt – he looked worried and he seemed to have aged a 20 years from the last time she had seen him. Ron, Fred, George and Bill stood on either side of her parents, each with a worried and saddened look on his face.
She looked up from the paper, "About… me?" Those were the only words she could force out of her mouth. Draco nodded. She looked down again at her parents face. Her family had been through so much, now they looked the worst she had ever seen them, worried sick over her. While she was stuck here, locked in a cell, unable to tell them she was even alive all because Malfoy. Anger rose within her, once again all directed a Draco. "I bet this made your day," she seethed.
"Well…" he mused brushing his clothes off, "I can't exactly say I was saddened by it."
Tears swelled up in her eyes, the pain she felt at seeing her family worried sick over her was too much to bear, "Please," she begged her voice hardly audible, "Please let me go."
Draco looked at her for a moment and then started laughing. "Sorry Weasley. No can do."
She bent her neck back knocking her head on the wall. Closing her eyes she tried to wish herself out of captivation, back to her flat in London where she could call her parents and tell them she was safe, that she would be home with them tomorrow and would never leave again. The tears spilled over down her cheeks, her face burned. Draco was right, she was selfish when she ran away from the Order, she only thought about herself and how she couldn't deal. Now because of her selfishness she had caused more pain to her family than being in the Order had caused to her.
"Don't flatter yourself," Draco threw at her as he watched her on sitting on the floor, in a stream of silent tears.
"What?" she asked softly. The confusion in her voice was genuine.
"You have no right to feel sorry for yourself. Welcome back to the wizarding world, Weasley. Here, everyone suffers. Your family's no different."
She began to sob, "You have no idea what you're talking about," she said angrily to him in between sobs.
"Don't I? I haven't seen my father in 6 years, my mother worries every night whether or not I'm still alive."
"It's different," she ran her fingers through her hair, and her face was wet with tears and perspiration, "You chose to be here-"
"No, " he almost shouted, "I have to be here. Until this war is over none of us are free. This is how we all feel every day." At that he left the cell, leaving Ginny to cry to herself, over a copy of the Daily Prophet.
XX
