Chapter 7
"Now, Mother, really. Don't you think that I should be the one to imperio my fiancé?"
Ginny's heart stopped cold. She sat paralyzed in her chair as the Jacques the stylist began to work his magic on her red tresses. The yank of the brush through her tangles jolted her back to the present, but her mind was still racing.
"I…I…I…you…"
Draco raised a smug eyebrow at her bewilderment.
"You mean the pretty little blood traitor hasn't been told her fate?" he teased. Ginny opened her mouth and shut it just as quickly.
"You are to marry Draco, Miss Weasley." Narcissa cut in imperiously. Her son cocked an eyebrow at Ginny.
"But…I…I don't understand. Why me?"
"That's not important," Narcissa said, "Stop stuttering. Highly unbecoming. You'll have to learn to speak and act with poise. I'll be back shortly to ensure that you are prepared for tonight. Do try to control yourself."
She turned imperiously and left the room. Ginny fervently hoped that Draco would follow her, but he merely stepped aside at the doorway and seated himself on a settee in front of a large window. The light played with his white blond hair, filtering though the tousled strands and looking rather like a halo. Ginny couldn't help but notice the irony.
"What are you looking at?" Ginny demanded, observing the young man as he lounged back with his arms spread, as if he owned not just the settee, but also the entire room. The initial shock of her current situation was starting to dissipate, and Ginny wanted answers.
"You." Malfoy's voice and eyes were laden with meanings that Ginny chose to ignore.
"You must know that I'm not about to marry you willingly," she scowled.
"Hardly an obstacle."
"So you would force me?"
"There are ways."
Ginny considered this and decided not to press the issue. "Well, if we do marry, you've no guarantee that I will be an obedient wife."
Draco smiled. "Your naïve courage is hardly commendable, my little one. You forget that I never finished teaching you that lesson the other day." His smiled faded as he continued, "and the lesson after that. And the one after that, and the fourth, and the fifth, and the tenth, and hundredth."
Ginny tried to ignore his threats, but deep down knew he was right. If they were married under Voldemort's regime, he would have the kind of complete control he was describing.
Draco stood and walked to her, placing a hand under her chin and lifting it forcefully so that her eyes met his. Jacques pulled her hair back to keep Draco from ruining his work and tears prickled her eyes. Draco's face was passive, but his gray eyes shone fiercely into her own. His voice was low and deadly.
"I'll teach you a thousand lessons, Ginevra Weasley. Until not only your word and deed bend to my will, but your every expression, your every stray thought, is as I want it. You will be mine."
Ginny tried to muster up a defiant look and shook her head out of his grasp, ignoring the French cursings of the stylist. Glaring at Malfoy as ferociously as possible, she whispered,
"I will never be yours, Draco Malfoy. I'd rather die."
Draco seized her again and brought his face inches from her own, until Ginny's eyes were matched with cold storms of icy gray. For a moment, Ginny thought he would snap her neck immediately, but he breathed in and hissed in a perfectly calm voice,
"Well, my sweet little traitor, when I'm through with you, I'm sure that can be arranged."
He dropped her chin and stormed out of the room, and a few tears trailed down across Ginny's cheeks, even though her hair no longer hurt.
--
"But Lucius, an announcement in The Prophet is only appropriate, given our social standing. Draco should have a large wedding. I hardly see the reasons for secrecy."
"My darling, no one in the wizarding world but the Dark Lord's closest knows that we have the Weasley girl. She might be quite alone, but there are a few who still pledge their loyalty to the Order of the Phoenix, and you can be sure they're seeking her out. I want this to go smoothly. The plan has to work.
"And the plan gives us all the more reason to make the wedding public. You've been trying to find those last few resisters for months now. Announce that the Weasley girl is here and they'll come to you—and our plans will come into fruition all the more quickly."
"Narcissa, you are a brilliantly evil witch. Those fools will be so panicked about getting their princess back before she marries the enemy that they'll never know what hit them."
Narcissa smiled graciously. Those who think Draco inherited all of his cunning from his father were sorely mistaken.
"There is, however, another problem with a public announcement. If Draco does decide to end the marriage shortly afterward it will not please them. They will see the marriage as a union between the feuding sides of this battle, and thus as something of a victory. We have carefully built his reputation among them for years. They see him as a misunderstood young man who is not capable of evil despite his birth. You remember what he did during his last years at Hogwarts and how carefully we leaked his so-called failures to others—and why it is publicly known that he has not taken the Mark. Still, his reputation is a fragile thing and if this marriage is announced, he must follow through with it for the duration of our scheme."
Narcissa nodded slowly. "Yes, you are right. But in that case, does it not serve him better to marry Miss Weasley and maintain the marriage? It will only better his position."
Lucius looked at his wife gravely. "I do think this is an excellent addition to our plan. My only concern is convincing Draco of that, which thankfully can wait until after tonight."
--
Ginny stared at herself in the mirror. Narcissa's hairdresser was a genius, though she had a growing suspicion that the man was under an imperious curse. An elf had helped her into the most beautiful (albeit ridiculous) shoes she had ever seen, and the long green gown shimmered in the dying sunlight. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a mass of curls, and she wore no jewelry.
Part of Ginny wanted to squeal with delight. She had never had her hair styled professionally or worn such a beautiful gown. However, another part of her wanted to die. She had sat most of the afternoon with Draco's words echoing in her mind, and even though she was determined to be strong, she quailed with fear at the thought of what might be to come. She had no idea why she was dressed like this.
Narcissa entered the room. She was also dressed very formally in a gown of deep purple, and next to her Ginny's lack of jewelry was glaringly obvious.
"Well, turn around Miss Weasley. Let me see you."
Slowly, Ginny turned around. She felt like cattle about to be auctioned and half expected Narcissa to check her teeth.
"I trust you are no longer stuttering?"
"No, madam."
"Well, you'll do. Come, sit." Narcissa gestured at a small table where tea was laid out. She poured and handed a cup to Ginny, who held it tentatively.
"Drink. There is nothing in it but tea. I enjoy my tea before I attend functions, and if I wanted to kill you I'd rather do it neatly." Ginny swallowed and waited until Narcissa sipped her own cup before she did the same. The hot beverage tasted wonderful, and Ginny realized that she hadn't had anything to drink since that morning.
"Now, Miss Weasley, there is a certain order of ceremony at the palace of the Dark Lord." Ginny wondered why they referred to that cave as a palace.
"Mrs. Malfoy, what will we be doing at the palace?"
"Asking for official permission for your engagement, of course."
"Oh."
"You will enter with Draco. Hold your head up but keep your eyes down and do not look directly at the Dark Lord. Draco will do the talking; you only need to say 'yes' when asked for your part. Always address the Dark Lord respectfully, and by all means act as civil and gracious. Remember, girl, that I am not above using a few choice curses to ensure that you do not embarrass me. Is that clear?"
"Yes, madam." Ginny rather felt like screaming the opposite, but Mrs. Malfoy's mention of tidy murders still hung in her mind.
"Good. Do you have any questions?"
"If I say no—" Ginny began tentatively, but Narcissa cut her off.
"If you say no to the Dark Lord every single death eater in that room will be happy to teach you what happens when you displease them, and you will find no protection from the House of Malfoy. Is that clear?"
Ginny nodded. Narcissa informed her that Draco would come and get her in a quarter of an hour and left Ginny alone again. She spent the entire fifteen minutes thinking of a way to escape. What she wouldn't give for some of Hermione's ingenuity right now!
All too soon, Draco arrived. He looked regal in rich robes of black with silver trim. His hair was perfectly in place for once, and his perfect features gleamed against the black.
He held out a gloved hand and Ginny accepted it with a faint smile, remembering all too well the last time Draco had held out a hand and she had smashed his face in. Obviously, Draco remembered too, for he pulled her close to his chest right away. Bending his head to her ear, he whispered,
"Anything out of you that I don't like and you will be sorry. Don't think that changes just because we'll be in public."
Ginny opened her mouth to retort but Draco silenced her with a gloved hand and whisked her away.
--
"My Lord, Master Draco Malfoy and Miss Ginevra Weasley." Wormtail tried to sound pompous but came off sniveling. Draco pulled Ginny into the high ceilinged throne room, forcing her down through throngs of Death Eaters. Ginny saw Pansy Parkinson glowering at her from the arm of either Crabbe or Goyle and a very pretty blonde looking furious. In fact, if looks could kill, every single young lady in the room would have murdered her by now. Apparently they all knew why she was there. Ginny wondered how long this awful plan had been in the works.
Draco stopped them just short of the dais and Ginny found herself face to face with a very decrepit Voldemort. It had been exactly a week since she had last seen him, and she wondered if it was only her imagination that he looked worse than ever.
"My Lord, I present to you Miss Ginevra Weasley, a witch descended from the pure blood of the Houses of Black, Yaxley, and Prewitt. I request your permission and favor in my marriage to Miss Weasley." Draco's voice was stiff and formal. Ginny shuddered at her own bloodline and of the evil that had come from it. Guess I am a blood traitor, she realized.
"Young master Draco…I am pleased that you have found a bride with such an honorable lineage. I trust that she meets my other requirements?"
Ginny started as Draco replied affirmatively. What 'other requirements?' Whatever they were, she suspected it was not a good thing.
"Miss Weasley, do you also ask for my consent?"
Draco squeezed her hand and she realized he was holding it rather tightly.
"Yes, my lord."
Voldemort smiled beatifically, a look that made him look like a pregnant toad.
"Then, my children, it is with my full assent that I grant you permission to wed. Let the festivities begin!"
Ginny was wondering what the hell Voldemort meant by festivities when Draco pulled her toward him. He placed a hand on her neck, just under her ear, and lifted her face toward his.
"Happy engagement, little one." He said, and then slowly closed the distance between them and kissed her gently. Ginny froze. Her blood ran cold, then hot. She was angry that he would do this so publicly without warning, but shocked that his kiss could be so gentle. She couldn't help herself—she gasped into his mouth, and when Draco ended the kiss to the cheering of the assembled crowd, he was smirking.
"We'll have to work on that a bit." He lifted a mischievous eyebrow. "I think my fiancé should kiss me back, don't you?"
--
An hour later, Ginny was exhausted. The Death Eater's idea of festivities involved dancing, carousing, and horrible jokes about muggles that Ginny not bring herself to laugh at, despite glares from Mrs. Malfoy who obviously thought her future daughter-in-law was being unsociable. A tap on the shoulder led Ginny to turn away from the coven of harpies ranting about muggle stupidity.
"Miss Weasley, might I have a dance?"
It was Goyle, who looked rather drunk. Draco was no where to be found and Ginny thought about refusing—until she saw not one, but two wands sticking out of Goyle's pocket, and one of them looked terribly familiar. Bursting with glee, Ginny gave Goyle such a delighted answer that he looked more than a little bashful as he led her out onto the floor.
"So, Mr. Goyle, what have you been up to since you left Hogwarts?"
"Well, er, I, er, I've been doing, er, raids and the like for er, the Dark Lord." Ginny found herself amused and wondered what Narcissa would say about all of the stuttering.
"I see. Is there a Mrs. Goyle here tonight?"
"Er, well, yeah, I mean, er, my mum's right over there." Ginny giggled at the stupid oaf.
"And do you enjoy her company?" Goyle looked a little uncomfortable.
"Well, er, yes, a bit, but, er, I like to dance with, er, younger ladies. She doesn't always, er, understand." Ginny swallowed her laugh. This was too easy.
As the dance ended, she smoothly reached into Goyle's pocket and slipped out both wands. One was undoubtedly hers. Exploding with happiness, Ginny had to keep herself from spilling purple sparks all over Goyle and instead gushed with delight over the dance. A very pink Goyle walked in a dazed stupor off the dance floor, and Ginny slipped the wands discreetly into the curls on her head.
"Now," she whispered to herself, "time to find the ladies room."
She asked several people where she could find the toilet in order to ensure that Draco would overhear. She walked off in that general direction and found herself quite alone in the musty old halls of the palace. The stones were chipped and cracking, and a few of the wooden doors were molded through. Compared to the bright cleanliness of the Malfoy's home, this place was a wreck.
Ginny heard the noise of someone walking along the corridor to her left and cast a disillusionment charm on herself. She practically hugged her wand with the joy of being able to do magic again. Slipping quietly into the hall, she noticed a very sullen looking soldier standing next to a stone staircase that led down a dark stairwell. Carefully maneuvering past the guard, Ginny crept down the stairs. The rancid smell that met her nose assured her that she was in the right place. Without a doubt, these were the Death Eater dungeons.
Slowly, she made her way through the dark passageways, hesitant to use her wand to light the way and wary of other guards lurking in the dark. Some of the cells were like rooms with a small windowed door leading in. These were all empty. Further into the dungeons, the cells looked more like cages and allowed the prisoners no privacy. These were also empty. Ginny knew that the Death Eaters kept few prisoners alive and for a moment wondered if the dungeon was empty. After all, she had been held at the Malfoy's home, not here. There was a good chance that any other captives were in the same position.
Ginny was ready to turn back and sneak into the party when she remembered the guard. If there were no prisoners, why not let the man attend the party? There had to be someone down here. Quietly, Ginny crept further into the dank darkness. She strained her ears but only heard the dripping of water and a faint scurrying of rats.
"Further in, I guess," she whispered to herself, and a moment later heard a quiet moan from her right. Ginny's heart pounded wildly in her chest. With two wands, she and this other person could probably sneak out of here. It would be easy to stun the guard and then—perhaps France again? But first, she had to release the captive.
"Lumos!" she whispered, tentatively pulling out her wand.
"Imperio!" a jet of light shot Ginny in the back, and everything fell away.
The voice was Draco's. Ginny felt her mind slowly recede as his invaded. As though in a dream, she walked over to him and accepted his arm.
"Now, what is a pretty, young, pure-blooded witch doing in such an awful place?" He queried, his voice dangerously pleasant. "Tell me you were only lost."
"Yes, my lord, I was lost." Ginny heard herself speak and wished she could roll her eyes sarcastically at the 'my lord' bit.
Draco held her arm tightly the entire trip back upstairs and through the corridors to the hall. Ginny tried to fight him, but it was a losing battle. Draco was obviously practiced in the art of the imperious curse, and she had never been under it before. Draco stopped her just outside of the Dark Lord's throne room.
"I'm not removing this until we get home, little sneak. You've proven that I can't trust you—I can't even trust your fear of the consequences. Your foolish Gryffindor bravery has cost you your freedom more deeply than ever. You are mine."
Suddenly, he pulled her close and kissed her again. Ginny's unwilling mouth opened at his sudden assault and she found herself kissing him back, her arms wrapping around him, holding him tightly.
A small part of Ginny's mind screamed at her to make him stop taking advantage of her in this state. Another part was thoroughly enjoying the sweetness of Draco's mouth. But most of Ginny's mind was completely oblivious and lost in happy thought, for she had managed to cast the lumos charm just before Draco had cursed her, and Ginny had gotten a glimpse of the figure lying on the ground of the cold cell.
The figure was a girl. A girl with a mass of frizzy brown hair.
--
A/N: Soooo most of you didn't really like my brilliant idea to have Draco fall madly in love with Ginny and spend all of his time in the kitchen making heart-shaped pancakes and caring for pink-haired tots. So sad. I was really looking forward to writing that…
Kidding! In the words of one reviewer, that would be SICK. In my mind, if Draco has an absurd desire for heart-shaped pancakes he commands a house-elf to make them and then snogs Ginny between bites. (Which I think I'll have to incorporate into a future story, eh? Maybe a one-shot? I don't know. Right now this is my baby.)
AND…this chapter is early! I got a record number of reviews for chapter six, my darlings, and this chapter practically flew out! So whether you want to tell me you love it or if you want to give me details/requests/concerns/questions, do it! (I prefer the second option, so if you say you love it, at least give me a reason why so I can continue to write what you love. It's not that hard.)
Or if you don't do that, I could have Draco decide that the whole secret evil plan thing is a load of crock and he and Ginny could run away to, I don't know, Hollywood, and live among the muggles. Draco could become a movie star and Ginny a producer, and heck, they could completely give up magic and learn to use a microwave. It's a thought.
In other words, review and tell me what you do like!