End of all Things
Chapter Three - The Closeness Between Us
Draco arrived at his destination. He winced at the sudden brightness and closed his eyes momentarily. A warm breeze blew through his hair and played across his face. Opening his eyes again, he looked at his surroundings. He was standing in the middle of a large open field, green grass, reaching easily to his knees, swayed easily under the sunny weather. He looked in all directions, looking for any sign of life. He chose this spot as he would be able to see anything coming for miles around; nothing could be hidden from his eyes.
Suddenly, he saw three figures appear in the distant.
Good; they decided to come. He knew, of course, that they would, but he was always a little weary when it came to Potter and his friends -- they always seemed to be so predictable, but at the same time, they had an element of surprise that did not go beyond Draco's knowing.
He waited, somewhat impatiently for the three people to make their way over to where he stood. Did they think that he had all day to wait around for them? This little meeting needed to be acted upon with speed, or else they all might regret it.
Finally they arrived, all standing no closer then necessary to him; Potter was in the middle with his companions on either side, his arms were crossed and he looked as though he would have rather drank poison then to be standing where he was. They all stood there, glaring at each other, until Potter seemed to grow tired of it.
"We received your note," he said.
"I assumed as much, Scarhead, as you are, in fact, here," Draco smirked at him.
"Get to the point, Malfoy," Potter spat back, his eyes narrowing. "If you need our help for any reason, you can forget--"
"Do I look like I need your help, Potter? Or that of any of your fans?" Draco sneered, nodding slightly in the direction of Granger and Weasley.
He saw Harry's hand flinch towards the pocket where Draco knew he kept his wand, and he sneered again; Potter could never take an insult - he always had to resort to violence. Draco watched him with laughing eyes, and he barely heard a faint 'pop' behind him, but suddenly the laughter died out as he saw Potter's eyes glance towards the source of the noise and then Potter's arm dropped back to his side, his hand empty. Just as Draco was about to turn around to see what could have possibly made Potter stop when he heard a new voice in the small group.
"Ah, Ferret." Draco's inside burned with anger at the name; He whirled around to face the mocking voice. The youngest Weasley stood behind him. Potter, Granger and Weasley all laughed behind him. He couldn't let them get to him. He just couldn't. If he did, he would be nothing, and they would know it.
"Weasel," he greeted back, bitingly. The girl's eyes were still laughing at him, though a scowl appeared on her face. Draco suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, whirling him back around to find him face to face with Potter.
"What's this, Potter?" He asked, raising one eyebrow. "The 'Boy Who Lived' can't even take what he dishes out?"
Draco was gratified with pleasure as he watched anger rising in Potter's face - and he knew it was all because he, Draco Malfoy, told him something immensely true. He valiantly fought the urge to laugh madly in his face. He settled instead for the, 'take that, scum!' look to which Potter glowered at him in return.
Potter, after what seemed an extreme amount of time, finally released him with a ruff shove.
"Why are you here, Malfoy?" he asked in a low voice. Draco didn't answer him straight away; he was to aware that the girl behind him was moving closer. He waited, much to the dissatisfaction of the people in front of him, till the Weasley girl passed him.
He watched her closely until she stopped at the side of Potter. He kept his eyes trained on her as he finally spoke.
"I can give you information about the Dark Lord."
A deathly silence awaited him. He decided to wait patently, until one of them decided to answer him. He folded his arms and waited, smirking. Who would have ever thought that he would be able to stun the famous trio into silence? They all stood still as statues. Only an occasional blinking of the eyes would alert him that they were, in fact, still alive.
Finally, after was seemed to be ages, Granger seemed to get her wits about her again.
"But-- that-- how--?"
Apparently not. Weasley was opening his mouth and closing it, looking like a fish; his sister had an amused expression on her face, and Draco would have loved nothing more to wipe it off -- his mind drew a blank on how, though... maybe a kiss would do it.
Draco nearly jumped out of his skin at the thought and mentally kicked himself. Oh, sweet Merlin -- where did that come from? Sure, if he was being completely honest, she was good looking -- much better then Granger over there who was still trying to compile a whole sentence, but still, she was a Weasley. Malfoys don't want to kiss Weasleys, or even look at them for that matter. Must be all this fresh air he was breathing -- it was doing something funny to his brain. No, he was definitely not a outdoors type person.
Finally, tired of Granger's attempts that were starting to wear on his nerves, he spoke again, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.
"I thought I told you three to come alone," he nodded towards the youngest Weasley who suddenly started to glare daggers at him. He met Potter's eye, and held them, trying desperately to intimidate him.
"Never you mind, Malfoy," Potter finally spit out.
"Ah, tut-tut, Mr. Potter," Draco admonished him. "Remember my previous statement. I would try harder, if I were you, to be a little more accommodating to me, or else I walk, and you lose."
He watched as Potter struggled to get his emotions in check before replying.
"Why?"
"Why, what, Potter? Why is the sky blue? Why is the Weasley family poor? There are so many answers I can give to the question, 'why'."
The comment about his family seemed to have dragged the elder Weasley from his thoughts, but before he could do anything he might regret, Granger's arm snapped out and grabbed a hold of his, stopping him.
"Wise move, Granger," Draco commented lazily. Granger glared at him, no doubt wishing him a long painful death.
Harry looked like he was about to pull out his hair in frustration. This was much more enjoyable then Draco thought it would be.
"Why are you volunteering to help us, Malfoy?" Potter asked finally.
Draco just shrugged his shoulders. "My own reasons, Potter, which I have chosen not to tell you."
"Fair enough," Potter consented. "What kind of information are we looking at here?"
"Wait, Harry," Granger finally spoke, peering at Malfoy. She raised her chin, and threw her shoulders back, probably trying intimidate him. It worked, but he would never let any of them know that. Instead, he smirked at her and shifted his weight.
"What is it this time, Granger?" He asked.
"What -- what do you want in return?" she finally asked.
Draco raised an eyebrow at her. "What makes you think that I would want anything in return?"
"Because you're a stinking rat, that's why!" Ron spat out, his eyes flashing.
Draco laughed, placing a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. "Ouch, Weasel. I don't know how I will recover from such a terrible attempt at an insult."
The four people in front of him looked like they would've liked nothing else but to thump him right then, but he silently applauded their fight not to do so.
Potter finally spoke again, he jaw clenched, his muscles tense. "Spill, Malfoy. What do you want in return for your information?"
"I answer the same --"
"I find that hard to believe, Malfoy," Granger spat out. Draco stepped back, grimacing slightly at the thought of her possibly getting on him.
"Why is that, Granger?"
"Unless you had an epiphany, then you always have a motive; you always want a reward for your deeds, whether good or bad."
Draco shifted uncomfortably. He could never tell them the reason. They would think him weak.
He chose his words carefully before speaking. "Let's just say that our interests are in alignment for the moment. I will let you know what my payment will be at a later time, but for now it does not concern you."
Potter nodded, an unreadable expression on his face. "Fine; Fair enough. Now what kind of information are we looking at?"
"The Dark Lord's weakness'; how to defeat him." Draco paused and tilted his head, an amused expression on his face. "His horcruxes."
Hermione gasped, while Harry looked like he was about to be sick. Weasley flinched and the Weasett, gave her friends a questioning glance.
Draco caught the look, and laughed for the second time that day. "She doesn't know?" he gasped out, pointing at the girl. "Brilliant, Potter."
"Shut it, Malfoy," Harry growled.
Draco woke with a start. Sitting up, quickly, he glanced around. The dank room was dark, save for a candle that was burning low on the old set of drawers. Clouds must have moved in during the course of the evening and blocked the light of the moon. Stretching his sore muscles, he slowly stood and walked to the nearest window, looking out. He could see nothing. He hadn't seen anything for two days. None of the Weasleys had shown and Draco feared the worst, but he still held onto the hope that they were still alive, and possibly that they were in a better situation then he and Ginny were in.
At the thought of her, he moved quietly over to where she lay, sleeping on two pews that he had moved together for her. She was wrapped in an old blanket that was worn and tearing. Draco had found it for her in one of the drawers upon further inspection of them. Two days they had gone without food or real warmth.
He sat down near her feet, lost in thought.
He knew that she would not last much longer in this condition. She slept for the most part; the loss of blood made her drowsy, but Draco made sure to always wake her after a short while, for fear of her slipping away. When she was awake, her breathing was still erratic and forced. Whenever she coughed, it sounded as though her insides were ripping apart. He had managed to seal up a few more of her injuries, but one, the worst, was beyond his grasp.
Her ribs. Two were broken, from what he could tell, and it appeared that she was bleeding internally. She told him her fears after their first night. Her lower chest and stomach area were turning a dark blue and red -- even black in some areas. He knew he needed to get her help and get it fast. They would have to risk the dangers outside their haven to survive.
Ginny shifted, drawing Draco out of his thoughts.
"Hey," she whispered groggily, glancing down at him with tired eyes. "What time is it?"
"Still late," he replied, quietly. "Go back to sleep."
She was silent for a while, but Draco could tell she had not dropped back of yet. He waited silently, watching her.
"Haven't you ever heard that a person can't sleep if someone is watching them?" she asked, a hint of laughter in her voice.
Draco smiled in the dim light. "Sorry," he said quickly, but his eyes never left her.
"What were you thinking about?" she said.
Draco was silent, but finally replied. "I dreamed about the day that you and I met."
She made a small noise, like a cough, which he took for a snort.
"Which day was that, Malfoy? At school or in the field?"
"The field."
They were silent again. Ginny shivered against her blanket.
"You were an asshole," she commented. He could see her smile slightly, the candle light throwing odd shadows over her face.
"Am I not still?" he asked with a smirk.
"No; now you are a pain in the ass sometimes, but you were a down right jerk-off back then."
"Nice, Weasley." Draco glared at her, though he knew her eyes were shut.
"You asked," she replied.
"That doesn't give you the right to be mean about it."
"Just telling it like it is, Love."
Draco froze slightly. She just called him 'Love'; he felt something strange in his chest. She had called him that before, but never had it affected him.
Before he could dwell on this thought for too long, he suddenly felt something overcome his body. It was an extreme discomfort, he frowned and shifted in his seat.
Ginny noticed.
"What's wrong?" she asked, trying to sit up, looking at him.
Draco wasn't paying her any attention. He continued to frown, until it suddenly came clear to him.
He stood up quickly and ran to the candle that was still barely burning, and blew it out, throwing them blackness. He then stole quietly over to a window, where he peered out, his eyes alert. He raised a hand towards Ginny, silently telling her not to move or make a sound. He could feel her fear start to form and radiate around the room. She knew there was something wrong.
Draco continued to look out the window. He could see nothing in the blackness. He dropped to his knees, and muttered a spell. Seven red dots, no bigger then a knut appeared before him, all moving slowly forwards towards an unseen object. Draco cursed aloud. Even as he was watching, two more red spots appeared from the invisible border.
He had seen enough. He swiped his hand over the dots, and they wavered before disappearing completely. He stood quickly, again glancing out the glass. Nothing. He knew they were out there though. They had found them, though he knew not how. He couldn't think about that right then.
He could hear Ginny's breathing quicken, coming in short, sharp gasps.
He had to act quickly.
He ran to her, taking her hands in his, clasping them close.
"We need to go, Ginny," he whispered urgently, trying to keep his voice calm.
"What's wrong?" She asked.
"They're here," he said simply; quietly.
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the characters. The plot is my own.
Please review and leave suggestions. Beyond this point I am stuck... so... let your imaginations run wild! I just might use apart of it!