A/N: Thank you so much to reviewers! I love you all. Early March. Geez, it's been February for like five chapters. Ah well. This is a fluffy chapter, but also a little dark at the end. Enjoy!

DEDICATION: I'm really getting the hang of these dedication thingies! This chapter is dedicated to Mechanical Pencil 0.5, who was my first ever reviewer. Thankyouh!

Disclaimer: I am not lucky enough to be as smart enough as to invent these characters myself. They are not mine. Too bad. –pout-

Something Else: I would also, for no particular reason, like everyone to know that I'm making two other fics! Woop! The first is a one-shot about Lily/James and the second is Peter Pan… hehe. Anyway, continue.

The Stone Speaks

Thirty-Eight: Senses

DRACO

Senses.

The first that came back was touch. Someone was holding his hand, gently and almost tenderly. Someone was brushing his hair out of his eyes. Someone, warm, sitting beside him. Someone was right there, holding him and caring for him and – dare he think of it? – loving him.

Taste. There was blood, salt, and sweat in his mouth, but he didn't have the strength to spit it out; also, he didn't want to disgust and frighten off the Someone who was being so kind to him. Smell – no… he couldn't smell anything.

Hearing. The soft rustle of curtains and bedsheets, the quiet pattering of an elderly lady's footsteps, and Someone's soft breathing. His own breath, rough and haggard. A voice – gentle, soothing, and strangely familiar. "It's okay… it's alright, sshh, it's okay," the Someone murmured. It was a female voice, though he expected as much – it wasn't very likely that a boy would be holding his hand and stroking his hair.

Sight.

Draco Malfoy opened his eyes.

The brightness of the Hospital Wing hurt, but blocking out the worst of it was the Someone's face. Pale, heart-shaped, smiling, flowing hair like fire… do I know her? Draco frowned, not quite sure who this unbelievably familiar girl was. He did not remember her, but something about seeing her made his stomach twist into a knot and flip over. He scanned her face… hazel eyes.

She was gasping for breath, screaming as she died, twisting beneath him, her beautiful, round, hazel eyes wide and terrified. "Please, Draco, stop hurting me!" she screeched.

"CRUCIO!" Macbain shouted. A beam of blue magic hit Ginny squarely in the chest. She fell to the ground, screaming, high-pitched and anguished, writhing in the leaves, tears pouring from her hazel eyes and down her freckled face.

Then Ginny's head rolled to the side, hazel eyes lifeless; she would never laugh, blush, or hurdle the sofas in the Gryffindor common room for fun again.

"Ginny!" he cried. His back hurt and the slightest movement shook his entire body with pain – but the Lestranges had done worse, and he threw his pale, skinny arms around the girl that he loved enough to throw away his away for. Luna didn't abandon her, she got back safely, she wasn't killed, she's alive, Ginny's alive, I love her, I never want to let her go, she wasn't killed, it was fake, the Cruciatus curse was fake, Macbain never got to her, she's ALIVE and I love her. "Ginny, Ginny – Luna – she said – I was – horse – crying – torture – please – Ginny!"

Tears stung his blue eyes, and, unashamed of them, Draco let them spill down his pale cheeks. "Ginny," he whispered, burying his face into her thin shoulder. "I'm sorry…"

"Draco, you have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing that happened was your fault," she told him, pulling away from the hug and looking directly into his face. Draco felt her eyes on him, but he couldn't look up. It was like gazing into the most vivid, dazzling light, and meeting her eyes would be an endless black hole; he'd surely break down and kiss her. She already has a boyfriend, he reminded himself, resisting the urge to peek up through his eyelashes and look at her lips.

"Well…" mumbled Draco, not sure what to say. How about "it is my fault because I lured you into the grasp of Bellatrix and Rodolphus by falling in love with you instead of murdering you like I should have?" Not really my most persuasive argument.

"Draco," Ginny said firmly. "I travelled the half the length of the United Kingdom to save your life. And nothing that you could ever say or do would stop me from doing it all over again if I had to."

"Apart from kissing Sanchia," mumbled Draco, a teasing grin lifting his lips slightly.

"Hey – watch it," said Ginny, mock-warningly as she held up a small fist. "You're going the same way as my brother, and the last time I had a conversation with him he came out with a black eye and a faceful of my drink."

Draco smiled. "Smooth," he said, leaning back onto his pillow, despite the urge to hold her until the end of time. Instead he settled with looking at her face. "I wonder how you got in the social crowd."

"We'll never know," said Ginny solemnly.

Draco took a deep breath. "Ginny… thank you," he forced out, feeling red rise on his face. "You saved my life."

Ginny flushed scarlet. "N-not really," she said, looking at her hands. She was still holding Draco's, but, oddly enough, didn't make any move to let go. "I… I just got Bellatrix out of the way so that Luna could haul your sorry arse back to the horse."

"Yeah, well, whose mad idea was it to fly most of the way across England to save my – I quote – 'sorry arse'?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow. Feeling that he was acting too silly for the sentimental moment, he knew that he had to quickly add what he really meant. "Anyway, I know that you, technically, didn't save my life," he said quietly, "but helped me get it back."

Ginny gave him an odd look; Draco coloured, but continued.

"What I mean is… okay, Ginny, you're my best friend in the entire world and I'm not going to dumb things down for you like trying to explain where China is to five-year-olds," Draco said flatly. "Ginny, I was tortured. They whipped me with chains. They sliced the backs of my legs open. They set me on a giant table and played Doctor with rusty hooks. They showed me the cross-section of a human arm. They used the Cruciatus curse. They showed me my worst nightmares, amplified a million times. They slapped me, beat me up, and put me through emotional agony – screw physical agony. All you need is a spell that tells you exactly what your victim's weaknesses are and blow them up to a terrifying scale."

Ginny blanched. She looked as though she might be sick.

"The point is, Ginny… the point is that after I went through all of that for five days, I didn't want anyone to save my life. If someone rescued me, they wouldn't be able to save my mind – or my body, for that matter. I can never forget what they did to me. I didn't want anyone to save me. I wanted to die," Draco said, feeling terrible just thinking about it all over again. "Screw saying goodbye to my family and friends… I wanted everyone else to be safe, and I wanted to end my life."

Ginny's grip had unconsciously tightened incredibly on Draco's hand. It actually hurt a lot.

"Look at me. I'm rambling," Draco laughed bitterly. "I still haven't made my point. My point is that you didn't save my life – you gave it back to me. I didn't want to be alive… unless you were there. Helping me. I couldn't have escaped without Luna or Myrtle… but if you hadn't been there, if it had been anyone else, I wouldn't be sitting and having a conversation with you or anyone else. I'd be in a coffin at my own funeral after having thrown myself out of the Astronomy tower."

Ginny stared at him, and Draco felt ashamed of admitting how scared and how weak he had been.

"I… Ginny, I don't know if you heard, but I screamed all the way back to Hogwarts from the Lestrange castle. I didn't want to leave you. I wouldn't leave you. The only thing that stopped me from lobbing myself into the sky was the fact that I couldn't move and that Luna had pinned me to the sodding horse…"

Ginny was still staring. Then, when Draco started to feel uncomfortable, she said fiercely, "Don't you dare ever jump off the Astronomy tower, Drakonus Ophius Malfoy, or I'll turn back time, beat you up, push you off the tower myself, turn back time again, and then haunt you about it for the rest of your days."

Draco raised his eyebrows again. "Wouldn't it have been easier just to say 'don't commit suicide'?" he asked.

"It could work," said Ginny coolly. They both laughed, and Ginny reached forwards to hug him again. "I'm so happy that you're safe," she whispered in his ear. "Thank you for making my life whole again."

"Trust me, m'dear," drawled Draco with a smirk, before dropping the attitude that had plagued Hogwarts for six years and murmuring sincerely, "the feeling is mutual."

Ginny grinned into his shoulder, before moving back, wrinkling her nose. "Ouch," she said teasingly, "I see one thing that isn't mutual is that I've had a shower." She grimaced and pinched her nose. "Phoo-ee."

Draco folded his arms across his chest. "That's not fair," he said. "I've..." he didn't say any more. It had taken a lot of courage to tell Ginny everything about his nightmare at the Lestranges and escaping. He still could not sleep at night without fear of the visions of Ginny coming back to him while he was slumbering and vunerable. He kept seeing the sneering female face; kept hearing the furious male bellowing. He kept feeling the throbbing sting of the chains, the agonizing slash of the knife and the excruciating drag of the hooks.

Ginny fell silent, obviously sensing what was going through Draco's head. He was grateful for this, and it was one of the infinite incredible things about her. She seemed to be in everyone else's head. She knew everything, and she knew how to make it better – or, woe be to the one who got on her bad side, worse.

A bell dinged, and Ginny looked backwards over her shoulder. The clock was striking twelve. "Damn!" she hissed. "I'm late for Transfiguration." She turned back to face Draco. "Hey, I'm really sorry, Draco, I have to go. I'll come and see afterwards, okay? Try to cope by yourself for two hours."

Draco nodded. "Good luck. I expect McGonagall will let you off, though. She knows that you've got an invalid to handle," he smiled.

"I suppose," said Ginny, pulling her schoolbag onto her shoulder. She crouched beside his bedside, smoothing his hair back. "Feel better, 'kay? Try to get some sleep," she whispered. Then, colour decorating her creamy cheeks, she lightly touched her lips to his grubby forehead, sending a shiver down Draco's spine that had nothing to do with cold or pain.

She started to walk towards the curtains, when Draco stopped her. "Ginny," he called, his voice hoarse from screaming for five days straight. She turned. Feeling slightly silly, Draco asked, "how can you stand that?"

Ginny frowned. "Stand what?"

Draco reddened. "Er," he pointed towards his forehead, before awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, "that."

"Oh!" Ginny blushed, but she grinned past it. "You should know by now. I don't judge a book by its cover." Then, she teased, "unless I know that it's a really bad book!"

The fall of her footsteps faded away to silence, but Draco's heart was still pounding. I don't judge a book by its cover; unless I know that it's a really bad book. Translating into – I don't judge people, unless I know that they're evil. "What does that make me?" he whispered to himself.

Madam Pomfrey appeared in the gap in the curtains. "Ah, Mister Malfoy, how good of you to join us," she said. "We've met tired children in our time, but even so, passing out off a Threstral and remaining dead to the world for four days straight had us a little worried!"

"Sorry," said Draco. He shifted so that the matron could remove the bandages and apply new ones. "I… I didn't mean to."

"I know you didn't, dear," Madam Pomfrey said kindly. "Lord knows you've been through enough the past week." She clumsily patted his cheek like a fond grandmother. A jolt made its way down Draco's back at that touch. What on earth…

Darkness… everything was quiet… he was so tired… a little light… someone was there… "Sshh, don't worry"… a hand on his cheek, gentle… dark.

"Did you come and visit me when I was unconscious?" Draco asked suddenly.

"'Course I did," said Madam Pomfrey absently as she carefully peeled the gauze material from his skin. "I had to visit you, dear, or you might have died, silly."

"I know, but – OW!" Draco yelped as the bandage, sticky with blood, pulled at his healing wounds. "I mean… always visiting me?" he said through gritted teeth, trying to ignore the blood spreading across his stomach.

"No," said Madam Pomfrey. "Scourgify." As the blood disappeared, a secretive smile appeared on her face. "I must say, I thought you'd have already figured it out." When Draco only looked blank, she said, "you have a good friend in Miss Weasley."

"That – that was Ginny?" he spluttered. "But… she was…"

"You mean a lot to that girl, you know," Madam Pomfrey informed him. "She came every single day to see you. First at eight o'clock in the morning, missing breakfast, until her first class, or, if she didn't have one, until class break when she would leave to see her other friends. Then again, at six o'clock until eight o'clock in the evening, when she would return to Gryffindor tower. Without fail. I checked the time – she was never early, never late. She always came."

Draco's heart swelled with affection for Ginny. She cares for me… Half of him wanted to challenge the matron with "really?" but the other half just wanted to lie down and bask in the feeling that he meant something to the only person he'd ever loved.

Half an hour, nine bandages, and a small deal of soreness, later, Draco was given his Strength Potion, and then, to his surprise, lifted out of bed. "What are you doing?" he panicked.

"I'm making you learn to walk again," said Madam Pomfrey. "Or would you rather I gave you a Muggle wheelchair?"

"I'll learn to walk, thanks," said Draco bitterly, shuddering at the thought of looking like a paralyzed Muggle.

Ten O'clock

Ginny had left two hours ago, and the darkness had settled in. All that existed was the pale moonlight and the rustle of bedsheets. Draco stared at the ceiling, trying to sort out his head. The Dark Lord would know by now that he had escaped; and Lord Voldemort would not be pleased.

On the contrary, he'd be absolutely raving furious.

When Lord Voldemort is furious, he usually kills people, and memories of Ginny's headless body, bodyless head, blood, distressed eyes and writhing on the ground still floated behind Draco's eyes. Not only that, but now came images of Draco dying.

Draco tried to hum to block out the deathly silence clamping in on him. He was used to sleeping with the pig-like snores of Goyle, the muttering of Crabbe, and the quiet singing of Zabini. Sleep pulled at his eyelids, but he was scared. Every time that his eyes closed, the vision came back, and he never wanted to have to see it again.

Sleep… stay awake, Draco… must… sleep… don't you –yawn- dare… sleeeeeeee-

Blood was pouring down her gaunt face, so crimson that it made her hair seem pale and dull; her clothes were stained scarlet as she slowly bled to death.

"No…"

Her harsh, high-pitched screams were still audible, amplified a thousand times, it seemed. He couldn't hide away from it. She was writhing, twisting horribly in the dirt, crying out in her death throes. Her hair was coming loose from its neat ponytail, hair flying over her distorted face. Now came something that Draco had not seen before: a Muggle knife.

"No… please… no…" Draco twisted. "Please…" Something was smothering him… he kicked off his blankets… it was killing him… he threw him pillow into the curtains… Ginny was choking, eyes wide in terror… "PLEASE!" he shouted, and then he writhed too violently, and smacked down over the edge of the bed. PAIN. "Stop it!"

"Draco," said a high, cold voice. "You've disappointed me. You swore that you had not been disloyal… I was almost prepared to set you free and let you live, Draco. However, then, as I am about to end your torture, what do I see? The very girl that you were supposed to loathe and murder, flying towards you… on – what is this – a rescue misson… is that what you call loyalty?"

"Please, just go away," Draco begged. "I don't want to have to do this anymore. I don't want to kill innocent people – I don't want to kill Ginny… I just want to live my life… PLEASE. I want to wake up, please, please, I want to wake up!"

With a lot of effort, as if he was dragging himself out of mud, Draco awoke. Then he screamed. Lord Voldemort was standing right in front of him, glaring. "NO!" Draco hollered. "Please, leave me alone. I just want to live my life."

"That could have been arranged, Draco," the Dark Lord sneered, flicking out a knife. "But you've gotten yourself into a bit of a mess, now. Your first disloyalty was small… it could be over-looked, with a little pressure in the right places… but this!" he roared. "Trust me, Draco Malfoy, when I say that you will kill the Weasley girl, and then die a painful death, just like your parents, after you have seen her suffer and SCREAM! Are you happy now?" the Dark Lord dragged the knife down Draco's face, cutting through the healing skin…

"NO!" Draco yelled. "PLEASE, no, I didn't mean to – I didn't ask them to save me! PLEASE, DON'T MAKE ME -"

"DRACO!"

Someone was shaking his shoulders… but the Dark Lord, no, not Lord Voldemort… SLAP. "Wake up, Draco!" cried an elderly female voice.

Draco's eyes snapped open. He was lying, face down, on the floor beside his bed. Madam Pomfrey, Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall were crouching beside him, while every child in the Hospital Wing stared at him. In his writhing, Draco had dragged the curtains down, and all the first-years were gazing, terrified at him and clutching at each other.

"Mister Malfoy, what's wrong?" Professor McGonagall fretted. She and Madam Pomfrey lifted him back onto the bed, and it was then that they gasped. On his face, a long, neat wound. It was new and fresh, and bleeding across his cheek.

"What on God's name happened to him?" Professor Snape demanded, surprisingly protective.

"He must have been cut on something – the corner of the bedside table," Professor McGonagall guessed.

"No," said Madam Pomfrey, "there's nothing that anyone could be injured upon in the Hospital Wing. Even if there was, nothing could make such a precise cut." Her hands trembled, and she held them still, looking, distressed, at Draco.

"What are you suggesting?" Professor McGonagall asked, looking at the tidy gash across the gaunt boy's cheek.

"Minerva – Severus – you have to warn the students," Madam Pomfrey said, deadly serious. "There is someone dangerous in the castle…trust me on my analogy – this was no accident."

McGonagall gaped. "Poppy, do you honestly think that Mister Malfoy was attacked? For seemingly no reason?" she questioned.

"Who on earth would want to harm Draco Malfoy, I wonder?" said Snape sarcastically. "Believe me, Minerva," he continued. "If you would look up, I think you'll find that it was not for no reason." Some children looked up and screamed, hiding their eyes under their blankets.

The two women looked fearfully ceiling-wards and their eyes widened at what they saw. Floating above Draco's bed was the Dark Mark and a sharp, blood-stained pen-knife.

A/N: Dun-Dun-DUNNN! You'll have to wait to find out. See, the funny thing is, that I already have the other chapters, but I only post one a day… so all that time you were waiting for this chapter, I HAD IT!! AND I WAS KEEPING YOU IN SUPSENSE!! Bwahahahahrr… Anyway. I will love you forever if you give me a review (or a hug. Or cheese. Or chocolate…)