Chapter Twelve: In a World Called Catastrophe

She was in an ornate, ice-encrusted garden. Sunlight burnished each individual crystal on the tree branches to an iridescent shine. "Nice try, Weaslette," a voice hissed in her ear and Draco prised his wand out of Ginny's rigid hand. She was startled at the change freedom made to her adversary's appearance. His hair was clean and gleaming again, and although there were dark circles under his eyes and his nose was still crooked, he looked more substantial than when she'd last seen him. The wand disappeared under his elegant forest-green robes. "I'll need this, too," he said, sidling up to her, "please excuse my reach." When he slipped his hand into her pocket, she fought against the Freezing Charm so hard that it hurt but, of course, it did no good and the glowing Portkey was in his hand. He surveyed it lazily, a smile playing at his lips.

No, Ginny screamed in her mind, you can't leave me here! But to her surprise, he made no move to use the Galleon. He continued smiling at her, a thin-lipped grin that quickly turned into a caricature of itself. "What did I tell you?" he said, lightly even as his façade of calmness began to crumble. "'Stay away from Potter and the Dark Lord.' That's all I ever asked you to do." That's a lie, Ginny thought. You asked me to do everything. "CAN YOU NOT FOLLOW ONE SIMPLE INSTRUCTION?" he screamed, flicking the blue pouch into the snow. "Here you are, trying to get yourself killed once again," he raged. "Well, I'm not going to let it happen."

Deep, mindless hatred was churning inside Ginny. Draco continued to rant, but she tuned him out and focused instead on the blue veins she could see under the translucent skin of his throat. Open, she commanded them. Let his blood spill thick upon the snow until I'm free.

He was speaking kindly now. "It feels like forever since I've seen you," he said in a conversational tone. "I've missed you. Let's go inside," he said, gesturing outside of Ginny's vision, "and warm up." If Ginny had doubted it before, she was sure now: Draco's mind had snapped when his mother died. Hope sprung in her chest as he drew the wand she'd been using for the past few months out of his sleeve, and she called on every muscle in her body to focus on the small hole glowing in the snowdrift off to the side. She would worry about wands when she got there. As the Freezing Charm lifted, Ginny was already hurtling into a dive towards the Portkey. Snow sprayed her face as she landed, and her hands scrabbled in the drift before she was thrown back into something hard enough to knock the wind out of her.

She peered through her snow-clumped hair to see Draco advancing on her menacingly, wand out, but she didn't move and he didn't strike again. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you," he said finally. He was silhouetted against the bright winter sun and she couldn't make out his features.

"You just hurt me," she said, still reclining on the ground against the low stone wall she'd hit.

"That was nothing, Ginny," he said viciously. "Nothing at all."

"I'm going," she said. "Give me a wand."

He snatched up the covered Portkey, pocketed it, and hauled her forcibly to her feet. "All I've ever tried to do is save you," he muttered angrily, reaching up to knock snow out of her hair.

She jerked her head away, retreating as far as his grip on her bicep would allow. "My family's out there, Draco," she said. "Surely you of all people understand that I can't just let them die."

He flinched but didn't release her. "Even Percy?" he spat. "He doesn't deserve saving any more than I do. You're still looking out for him, aren't you?" he added bitterly.

"Let me go."

"For the last time, I'm not going to let you die."

"If Voldemort wins, I will die," Ginny hissed. "One way or another. So will you let me go if I say I'm trying to save my own life? I can't expect you to understand this," she said scathingly when he didn't answer, "but sometimes you have to do what's right, not what's best for you. Of course, you killed Snape, so-"

His face clouded dangerously. "Don't," he warned.

"Let me go or so help me, I won't rest until I've killed you."

"No." He seemed completely unconcerned by the prospect.

"Draco," she said forcefully, "if you've ever cared about me at all, if you've ever truly thought of yourself as my friend, let me go."

A faint breeze passed through the garden and ruffled the trees, showering a spray of fine ice crystals over them. Draco's exquisite winter cloak looked diamond-encrusted and water droplets clung to his eyelashes. He took in an odd, gasping breath, as if he were drowning, and threw her a panicked look. "I'm going."

"Like hell you are," Ginny snapped impotently.

"It's the only way. I'll cover your back."

"You'll fight against Death Eaters?" she scoffed.

"There's no love lost between the Dark Lord and myself right now," Draco replied sardonically. "Besides, I'm not fighting against them. I'm fighting for you."

The thought made her decidedly uncomfortable. "I'm not your mother, Draco," Ginny said, as gently as she could, "and saving me won't bring her back."

He looked at her oddly. "I know."

"I'm going to attack your friends."

"I have no friends." He produced the blue pouch. "Here, hold this."

Ginny tore open the drawstring to the pouch and shimmied the Galleon half out of its case. The coin was blinding, but she resisted the urge to touch it.

"Take this wand."

She did. "This isn't my wand."

He clutched the wand he was holding to his chest. "This is mine."

"But you gave it to- oh, forget it, time's wasting."

"On the count of three, then?" he asked, rapping himself on the head with his wand.

Ginny watched as his person took on the colours of the surrounding garden. "You're not exactly invisible," she remarked.

"No one will notice," his near-disembodied voice replied. "They'll be too focused on the battle. Grab on three, Ginny, ready? One, two, three!"

Ginny pinched the Galleon between her fingers.