Hehehe...I'm baaacccckkkk! I know this is a short chapter. Sorry! I've noticed that their getting progressivly shorter. But anyway...I'm going on vacation for the holidays so won't be able to update for about two weeks. But after that I promise to give you a nice long chapter...unless of course no one's reading this in which case I'll just write a nice long chapter anyway and my friends will support me in my time of denial. Umm...just a little note about the story. I'm trying not to make Ginny too helpless or Mary-Sueish so feel free to email me and tell me if I'm failing miserably (just don't use those words or I might cry...). As always I love my reviewers! Ya'll are awesone (yes, yes I know I'm Southern).
Yeah!!!!They fixed the line thingey! It used to take me like an hour to post becauseI couldn't figure it out. I'm not...technologically inclined.
Disclaimer: checks mirror Darn...nope still not J.K. Rowling. I onw nothing, thoughI wishI did.
"Draco, honey, what's wrong?"
"Sod off Parkinson."
The girl tossed her blond locks and allowed her lower lip to quaver slightly. "Drake, what's wrong? You've been so… moody lately."
"I said sod off." He said, slamming his dormitory door in her face and, in fury kicked it.
"Awww, did wittle Drakie-poo have a bad day?"
"Out. Now."
"What, your time of the month already?"
"Blaise, leave now if you value your life."
His dorm mate looked indignant but he got up and gathered his cloak nonetheless, mumbling, "It's my room too, you know."
He smiled sweetly in reply, "Not if I murder you in your sleep."
Grumbling something along the lines of, "Stuck up, egotistical, hair obsessed twit," Blaise closed the door, narrowly missing the shoe Draco hurled at him.
In a very un-Malfoy like display of rage he tore the sheets off his bed and threw them across the dorm, pitched his lamp upon the floor and dumped the remaining contents of his trunk around the room. Felling satisfied with the degree of chaos he had provoked he dropped heavily down upon his now bare bed to fume. What right did the Weasley brat have to threaten him? To say that she hated him? She had never experienced hate, experienced pain, the way he had.
Get control, he ordered himself, Malfoys do not lose control, don't get mad. They get even.
Malfoy! Another part of him spat. Like your father?
Flashback
It was the summer before his seventh year and Draco couldn't be happier. It was warm and bright outside, promising to be a good day. His father had already agreed to take him to Knockturn Alley and let him pick out anything he liked as a reward for becoming Head Boy. He was approaching his father's study when he heard the distinct high tones of his mother's voice. He paused and listened to what the two were discussing.
"Lucius, it's too soon: he's just a boy." Draco bristled. He was NOT just a boy.
"He's seventeen. A year older then I was." Draco felt assured by his father's confidence. Too young for what he didn't know, but if his father said he was ready he was; his father was always right.
"You fool!" He paused. He had never heard his mother insult his father. The two argued nearly constantly but she had never blatantly insulted him. It irked him. After all, Narcissa had been quiet and subservient all her life. What right did she now have to insult her husband? "You idiot. You'll kill him. You'll kill our son!"
Curiosity got the best of him and he opened the door enough that he could peek through and see his parents. As he did he saw his father's hand strike Narcissa's cheek, leaving a deep red mark across her pale face. Draco almost betrayed himself by crying out, but caught himself just in time. He had never seen him strike his mother before.
She had tears running down her face as she cried out, "I don't want this for my son."
"He's not just your son; he's my heir. And the Dark Lord wishes it."
"Screw the Dark Lord! Let him rot in-" She stopped abruptly and screeched in pain as he once again brought his hand sharply across her face.
"You wretched, impudent, wench! He could have heard you!"
"Good! I hope he did! He can kill me- and you for all I care- just as long as he doesn't hurt Draco."
"You poor, misguided fool. Cruciatus."
His mother shrieked, and from his hiding place he could see her fall to the floor. She writhed in pain and as she did his father bent down. Lucius grabbed his wife's shoulders and forced her flailing body into a sitting position.
"You know this is hurting me more then it hurts you, love, buts it really just for your own good." He said, smiling indulgently as though he was scolding a naughty child. His face then became hard.
"Don't cross me Narcissa. I wouldn't want to see you get hurt." Something went cold in Draco as he watched his mother's body go still. He panicked for a moment, before he saw her chest moving shallowly up and down. His fear turned to rage as he watched his father examine Narcissa's battered form with cold, impartial, indifference.
Lucius stood and turned to leave.
Draco dashed behind a large marble statue as his father emerged from the door he had been hiding behind only a second before. He waited there until the echo of his father's footsteps on the stone floor had disappeared. He ran into the room.
"Mother! Mother… Mother?"
When she spoke her voice was a croak, "Here, Darling."
She was lying on the floor, panting heavily. She had a bruise on her cheek that was much to dark to have been caused by being slapped. She must have hit the desk while she fell.
She reached out and grabbed his hand fervently. "I love you, Draco."
"I love you too, Mother." His mother had loved him without restraint and though she hardly told him, he always knew it.
"Draco, you mustn't –"
"Shhh…rest Mother." He said, pausing before pulling her head into his lap.
"You always were better then him. You must promise me you won't do it."
"Do what Mother? Mother?"
But when he looked down at her he found she had already drifted off to sleep.
End Flashback
Feeling a renewed wave of anger he clenched his fist. The day was burned vividly in his mind, a permanent reminder of the pain his mother had experienced. It was the first time he had ever seen his father physically harm Narcissa (though from what his mother told him not the first time he had). Standing there, seeing the serene smile his father had had upon casting the spell, was the first time he had ever really seen his father for what he really was. Was he so uncaring that he could torture his wife without a second thought? Or was it just he was so used to torturing people?
He had had major qualms with the thought of leaving his mother alone with Lucius for the school year; it worried him.
With a slight twinge of uneasiness, he realized he hadn't heard from his mother in nearly two weeks. The boy set about looking through the destruction that was his room for a piece of parchment. Once he had found a sheet he took out a quill and scribbled a quick note.
Mother,
How are you? Doing well I hope. I was just writing to see how things were back home. Things here are terribly boring, as usual. Dumbledore has once again refused my petition to can McGonagall and make Snape Deputy Headmaster. He's the only fair teacher here. I hope to see you soon.
With all my love,
Your dearest son,
Draco
It was a pathetic letter really. It hardly took up two lines on the parchment, but he wanted to make sure she was okay. He sighed slowly, before standing up and trudging off to the owlrey.
"What's up, Gin?"
"Here." She said hurling her pack at him. He pulled the invisibility cloak out of it.
"Are you just now getting back?" Harry asked, eyeing her with concern.
"Yes."
"You might want to…er… wash up before class."
She resisted the urge to say 'duh'. After all it wasn't Harry's fault she was having a horrible day.
"Thanks."
"Hey, Gin! Are you just getting back?"
She rolled her eyes. Ron had never had great timing.
"Yes."
"Well, you look like one of Crookshanks's fur balls." She cringed.
"Thank you for that lovely imagery Ron."
"Don't get all snippy. I'm not the one who didn't do their potions essay."
Ginny glowered.
"Ahh…Ron mate, I think you should quite while you're ahead."
"Ron, I really feel the need to hit something and if you don't want it to be your face I would suggest you shut up."
"I was only kidding."
"Look at me. Does it really look like I'm in a funny sort of mood right now?"
"Err… point taken."
She addressed Harry, "I have to go get ready, see ya later, okay?"
"Yeah… see you Gin."
She climbed the stairs up to her dorm and threw the door open. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror that hung on the wall. Her red hair was knotted and untidy, her robes just as disheveled. Her face was flushed, which only proved to make the ink satin on her cheek seem more distinct. How had that gotten there?
She swore, realizing Malfoy had seen her like this.
He was the only person she had ever known who could make her so mad. Not even her brothers with their annoying and slightly life-threatening antics had ever managed to get her so riled.
She grabbed at the necklace and futilely tried to remove it. She sighed, knowing it was no use and at the same time not wanting to surrender.
What's your secret? She wondered, staring dejectedly at the placid surface of the stone. She would find out if she had to spend every moment for the next year in the library.
Yeah! You managed to make it through yet another chapter. As always feel free to reveiw (or email) me with any suggestion and/or comments. Flames will be laughed at.
Speaking of which...Thank you to Queen Thayet! My knight in shining armor! My gallent defender against the evil of The Counter! You are so wonderful!
Happy Christmas! Enjoy your holidays and eat lots of cake.
Please review. It makes me happy.