JUNE 7th, 1997
Ginny laid on the couch in the library, engrossed in a book. Three others sat next to her on the coffee table- all discarded. While she hadn't read them cover to cover, a quick skim hadn't yielded anything promising. But this book talked about crows. The most generic of her clues, it was true, but any lead was better than no lead.
The crows in this tale were a symbol of Morgana, the legendary Dark witch and enemy of Merlin. Morgana was an Animagus and could transform into a crow in order to spy on her enemies, or else herald death to come on the battlefield against her half-brother King Arthur.
It was strange to read tales about wizarding folk before the Statute of Secrecy. Imagining a modern Muggle king- were there even Muggle kings anymore? Ginny wasn't sure- having a Dark witch for a half-sister and publicly acknowledging it was bizarre.
Morgana was called "Queen of Avalon," but Ginny had yet to come across any lines specifically calling her "Great Queen," as Alys had seemed to call Death. That was another odd thing- Ginny had always heard Death described with male attributes, including in the Tale of the Three Brothers. But Alys only ever referred to female figures- a maiden, a mother, a crone, and a great queen. There had only been women in the standing stones as well, that night that Ginny had observed some type of religious ceremony.
Based on her own experience, Ginny wasn't sure Death had a gender. It was just a skeleton and a cloak- nothing else identifying about it at all. It could be female, she supposed… but did that even make a difference? Alys had clearly contacted the same figure Ginny had, regardless of whatever gender it may or may not have had.
Don't get lost in unimportant details, she admonished herself. You don't have the brain space for it.
She really didn't. She couldn't take notes, so she was going to have to remember any useful information, what book she had found it in, and, as she kept going, how it might be connected to other things she discovered. Difficult enough as it was, and made more difficult by the fact that she couldn't be certain that anything she found actually was useful. Was Morgana being a crow Animagus relevant information? Maybe, or maybe she just really liked birds.
She was hoping to come across information about Morgana being skilled in Divination- thus possibly linking to the second sight- but so far she seemed to mainly focus on curses and Transfiguration. No mentions of a thin place or any rituals.
She continued to read for a short while longer, until the library door banged open, making her jump.
"Weasley," Malfoy barked as he stormed into the room. "Where are you?"
She sat up, realizing that the arm of the couch had hidden her from view of the door.
"You scared me," she said as he approached her.
"You scared me," he said. "I didn't see you when I opened the door."
"Sorry for lying down, I guess," she said sarcastically. "I'm having a quiet day, just like you said, remember?"
"Hmm." Malfoy's face was pinched and his shoulders were tense- he was in a foul mood. Had potion-brewing been that stressful?
"What are you reading?" he demanded, but he didn't wait for her to answer. He snatched the book out of her hands.
"Hey!"
"The fair princess looked out from her tower window, longing for a daring prince to come rescue her. But Morgana was cunning, and had enlisted the aid of a great green dragon to guard the tower and keep the princess locked away. Many came to slay the beast, but none were successful," Malfoy read. He tossed the book over his shoulder, where it landed with a clatter on the ground. "I'll save you the trouble of finishing it. The dragon wins."
His eyes were cold as he sat down next to her. Ginny's stomach twisted into a knot- every time he looked at her like that, nothing good came of it.
"If you wanted me to call you princess, you should have just said so," he said before roughly grabbing her hair and slamming his mouth down to hers.
Her words of protest were swallowed by the kiss. Malfoy was angry- at her or at something else, she wasn't sure- and he was putting all of it into snogging her. This morning's had been lazy and slow, almost self-assured. This was the opposite- urgent and hungry, like she might disappear any second and he had to make sure he got his fill. His grip on her hair was tight as his other hand slid to her waist.
Just wait for it to be over. Just like this morning. But it was difficult. His anger was palpable, and she had seen last night just how explosive that anger could be. He wasn't hurting her, but it felt like a close thing.
He started to tip her backward on the couch and her eyes grew wide.
"You're scaring me," she managed to get out as he quickly came up for air.
Cold eyes. No light in them. Grey and flat.
"Why, princess? You're safe here, in your tower."
"I wasn't-"
His mouth locked on hers again.
-reading it because of that.
He tipped her further back, until her back was pressed against the seat of the couch and he was leaning over her.
"Draco-" she gasped as he lifted his head again.
"Don't you dare tell me to stop," he said before moving his mouth to her neck.
She kept her eyes on the ceiling, her heart racing. He had to be able to feel it, his mouth was right over her pulse point. What had changed from a couple hours ago? Why was he acting like this all of a sudden?
His teeth grazed her neck and she whimpered.
"Please," she said.
"Please what?" he asked, his voice raspy.
"Please don't hurt me."
His grip on her hair loosened a bit but his mouth returned to her neck- more gently this time.
She let out a couple of shaky breaths and he rubbed his hand along her side in what she assumed was supposed to be a reassuring way.
Reassuring me that you're not a complete psychopath.
This wasn't the first time Ginny had pondered Malfoy's mental state. He flipped moods more often than anyone else she knew, and dramatically at that. Smiling and joking one minute, cold and cruel the next. What was going on in his head that made for such drastic shifts?
I guess this isn't new though, she thought as Malfoy's tongue laved against her. Even at school you treated him like three different people. You just have a front row seat to it now.
Finally, he stopped. He pressed one last kiss to her neck before sitting halfway up, a smug grin on his face as he stared at her.
"Can I sit up?" she asked, afraid to send him over some proverbial edge.
"Sorry," he said, and moved a bit further back to give her room. "I was just admiring my handiwork. Want to see?"
"No," she said, unable to lie. Predictably, he was going to show her anyway. He grabbed one of her discarded books and transfigured it into a hand mirror.
"Look," he said, holding the mirror out to her. She cautiously took it and was disgusted but not surprised to find a very large love bite forming on her neck.
As if the tattoo wasn't enough of a marker.
"Now you look even prettier," he said. He took the mirror back from her and transfigured it back to a book.
"Are you upset with me?" she asked.
"Why would I be upset with you?"
"I don't know. But you were angry as soon as you came in here."
"I told you, I couldn't see you at first."
That wasn't it. A lie.
"I was reading about Morgana," Ginny said. "Not princesses or dragons."
Malfoy's mouth grew tight again.
"Could have fooled me," he said. "What a specific story for me to stumble across you reading."
Unfortunate coincidence, believe me.
"I'm not a princess," she said quietly. He barked a laugh.
"Sure you are," he said. "The immortal pureblood witch. Sounds like the princess of a new era to me. The Dark Lord is our god, you're the princess, and I'm the dragon. Except this dragon can turn into a prince. Isn't that lucky for you?" He pressed a kiss to her lips, but it was quick this time.
Was it a coincidence he mentioned a god? Or was there something to that?
May the gods remember you.
Her head hurt. She had been reading for too long. Thinking about too many things.
He ran his hand along her cheek, keeping eye contact with her. "The princess waits for her prince to come, lonely in her tower, but none are strong enough to defeat the fearsome dragon tasked with protecting her. She looks out the window, day after day, and watches the challengers die in battle, one by one. Soon, they stop coming, and, heartbroken, she stops looking out the window. It's only then that she looks around in her tower, and discovers it's actually quite a nice place to be- warm and comfortable, filled with all of her favorite things. She thanks the dragon for providing for her and protecting her from the harsh reality of the outside world, and offers him a kiss in gratitude. He gladly accepts, and her kiss transforms him- he becomes the prince she's always been waiting for, and they live happily ever after, safe inside their tower. That's how the story ends."
Ginny said nothing, feeling wrong-footed. He had taken the whole thing so personally.
He ran his finger down her cheek once more before turning away. "Tilly. Lunchtime."
Tilly appeared immediately. "Right away, Master Draco! Has Miss thought about what she might like to eat?"
"Um, no, I'm still thinking, sorry," Ginny said. Tilly was visibly disappointed as she left. Malfoy raised an eyebrow.
"Tilly wants me to make a list of my favorite foods so she can make them," Ginny said. Malfoy smirked.
"Smart elf. She has the right idea about things."
"Making me my favorite foods is not going to make me happier," Ginny said. She had held her temper all morning- why did Malfoy get to blow up on her and she just had to take it?
"Maybe not right now. But in a year, or two, or five, I'm sure you'll be happy to have your favorite foods."
"They're not my favorite because of how they taste. They're my favorite because of who makes them."
Malfoy frowned. "Well I can't do anything about that. You can either have Tilly make what you like, or you can find a new favorite food."
You can't do anything about that, or you won't?
"Speaking of. Finding new favorite things- you need a hobby."
Ginny blinked. "What?"
"A hobby," Malfoy repeated slowly, as though she were being dense on purpose. "Something to do for fun."
"Reading," Ginny said, sensing the opportunity for more library time.
"Besides that. You can't spend every second of the day reading."
If Hermione can, so can I.
"Flying."
"I'm not an idiot. Pick something else."
Ginny groaned in frustration. "I don't know! I don't care."
"And that's exactly the problem. Hmm. You like music. My mother plays the piano, she could teach you to play-"
"I don't want your mother to teach me anything."
Malfoy glared. "Fine. Then pick something else."
She didn't know why Dean Thomas popped into her mind, but he did. "Drawing," she blurted. Dean liked to draw. Ginny did too, actually- she just didn't do it very much.
"Drawing," Malfoy repeated dubiously.
"Yes. Or actually, maybe painting."
Tilly reappeared at that moment, two steaming plates of pasta levitating over her head. She guided the plates onto the coffee table, taking care to navigate around the stack of books.
"Alright," Malfoy said. "Tilly, I want you to go to Diagon Alley and buy all of the top of the line drawing and painting supplies you can find. Whatever someone might want or need for that- just get the best. If someone asks who it's for, say it's for my mother, who's taking up a new hobby. Say nothing about Ginny to anyone- no one can know she is here."
Tilly looked between the two of them. "Right away, sir!" She Disapparated.
Malfoy turned to his plate. "Eat your lunch."
"Buying me things is not going to fix anything."
"Eat your lunch."
Ginny glared at him, but sensed that if she continued to refuse, the tattoo would be making an appearance. She turned to her own plate and began to eat.
What if he won't let me keep reading that stupid book? How arrogant, to compare himself to a dragon. I guess I could look for other books on Morgana? Or Merlin maybe…
She knew in her gut that that was the wrong direction. This magic, whatever it was, looked nothing like Ginny had ever heard of or read about. Merlin was an incredibly powerful wizard, it was true, but his magic was exactly what you would expect. He was the Dumbledore of his time.
Her fork clattered against the plate as her hand shook, and Malfoy sighed.
"What's wrong now?"
"I was thinking about Dumbledore," she said miserably.
"Dumbledore?" Malfoy asked, nonplussed. "Whatever for?"
"I was thinking about powerful wizards," she said. True. Not a lie.
"Hmm. Well I hope you were including the Dark Lord in your list- he's the most powerful of them all."
Ginny scowled but said nothing.
By the time they finished lunch, Tilly had returned, her tiny arms overflowing with bags.
"Tilly went to three different stores, Master Draco, and found pencils and paints and brushes and canvas and-"
"Excellent work, Tilly," Malfoy said. "You're a wonderful house elf."
Tilly was overcome. She spun in a little circle and squealed. It was so cute that Ginny had to struggle not to laugh, despite her own sour mood.
"Thank you, Master Draco, sir! If you be needing anything else, you let Tilly know, and she will be doing it!" She left, a smile on her face, taking their empty plates with her.
"Well, go ahead and get set up," Malfoy said. "You can sit near the window, take advantage of the natural light."
He meant for her to draw now?
Damn it all.
"I was hoping to keep reading," Ginny said.
"You've been reading all morning."
Come on, how can I turn this around?
"By myself," she wheedled. "Not with you."
I can't initiate, but I can ask for things, she thought, recalling how asking to go outside had softened his entire demeanor yesterday.
He raised an eyebrow. "You want to read with me?"
I want to read.
"Yes."
"Like we did yesterday." It wasn't a question, but she answered anyway.
"Yes."
He looked at her for a long moment, some unreadable emotion crossing his face. He looked almost… sad? But what on earth for?
"Let me get my book then," he said quietly. He stood up and headed off into a section. He didn't summon the book- that was interesting. Because he needed to enchant it again?
Ginny wanted desperately to pick up the book he had thrown, but that felt like it would jinx things. He needed to agree to it first.
He returned shortly afterward, with the same book he had been reading yesterday. One glance at its cover told her he had indeed enchanted it.
"Stand up," he said. She did so, making room for him to lie down. As soon as he was comfortable, she sat down again, not waiting for him to ask her. He flinched as she moved to settle between his legs.
So odd.
"I really was reading about Morgana," Ginny said, taking the plunge. "May I please have my book back?"
He pulled lightly on her shoulder and she leaned back against him.
"Who wins?" he asked softly.
"The dragon."
He relaxed. With a wave of his wand he summoned the book, which landed neatly in her lap.
"Thank you," she said. "For being understanding. Really, I-"
"Laying it on a little thick, Weasley," he said drily. She laughed.
"Sorry."
Three more wand waves, and they were settled. Blanket in lap, light music playing, curtains half-drawn. Malfoy snuggled in closer to her.
"All of my favorite things," he murmured, absently twirling a lock of her hair around his finger.
This would be lovely, if I was anywhere but here.
He kissed the top of her head before picking up his book. She quickly did the same with her own.
"Why Morgana?" he asked.
"She can turn into a crow."
She felt him chuckle beneath her.
"You're having a weird day."
"More like a weird life," she muttered, and he laughed.
"I know the feeling," he said.
Somehow I doubt it. Not this weird.
They read in silence for a good long while, and Ginny grew frustrated. There was nothing useful in here. So what, Morgana could turn into a crow? She also apparently locked princesses in towers, and that had nothing to do with anything.
"Stop squirming," Malfoy said, his eyes still on his book.
She did, or tried to.
I'm not a princess, she thought. Stupid comparison. And I'm not just some damsel- if I could get out, I would. That's what I'm still trying to do.
"Weasley, stop squirming."
She froze as she felt him harden against her lower back. He made an irritated noise and pulled her back against him.
"Ignore it," he said. "Keep reading."
It was difficult to ignore.
"I'm ready for a different book, I think," she said. "Can I go look for one?"
"Fine," he said, and lifted his arm so she could get up. She did so, not looking back at him as she disentangled from the blanket and hurried off into the shelves.
She wasn't a natural researcher. Not really. Not like Hermione- hell, if Hermione was here, she probably would have figured the whole thing out by now.
Her heart pinched in disappointment. Hermione wasn't here. She was alone.
Kathleen wasn't here either. Every time Ginny had started to lose patience with their research into the Deathstick, Kathleen had calmed her down, encouraged her to keep going, helped her think through the stuck parts. Without her, Ginny certainly would have given up.
But that hadn't really been Kathleen at all, had it? It had been Malfoy, speaking through Kathleen's mouth. Making sure she kept following the trail he had left.
Ginny scowled. She had been manipulated, fallen right into his trap. Right into his arms, where she had been just a moment ago.
But you're not being manipulated now, she tried to soothe herself. You're doing the manipulating- letting him have these little moments so that you can get closer to Alys. Closer to unlocking the gem's power. Closer to destroying Voldemort and saving the wizarding world.
"I hope you didn't get lost," Malfoy called. "I'm quite comfortable here, I would hate to have to get up to find you."
I've apparently met my alone time quota for the day.
"I'll be right there," she replied, fighting to keep the irritation out of her voice. She grabbed another book about Morgana- more of a biography than a fairy tale this time- and headed back to the couches.
The sun was low in the sky. It was getting dark. Dinner would probably be soon.
"Any chance we can skip dinner with your parents again?" Ginny asked as he held the blanket up for her and she sat down.
"Nope," he said. "They want to see you. I'll give you a Draught of Peace right before- that should help."
She didn't bother voicing the fact that she didn't want a Draught of Peace. It would make no difference.
She continued to read, hoping to find something worth remembering.
The biography detailed not only Morgana's life, but how she had come to be understood as a mythological and historical figure.
"While wizards know that Morgana and Merlin were real, historical figures, their stories have lived on in Muggle tales as myths and legends. Morgana, also called Morgan le Fay, is a paradoxical figure in these tales, with the capacity for both good and evil inside her. Some describe her as human, while others paint her as a fairy or even a goddess, blessed by immortality in the fair lands of Avalon."
She was definitely on the right track. Where it would lead, she didn't know, but she was definitely on the right track.
They read for a little while longer, and when Malfoy finished his book, he stretched behind her, his chest pressing into her back as he lifted his arms above his head.
"Tilly."
"Yes, Master Draco!"
"Draught of Peace, please."
Oh no.
"Do I have to take it?" she asked in a sad voice, hoping for sympathy.
"Yes."
So much for that.
Tilly brought him the vial and he handed it to her.
"Go ahead," he said. She scowled but drank it, knowing there was no way out of it. Her breathing slowed.
"I told my father about our deal," he said. "So I don't need to use the tattoo in front of them, unless you think it's going to be too hard for you to... what did you call it? Listen?"
This was going to be impossibly hard.
"I can listen," she said.
"That's good," he said. "Let's have a quiet end to our quiet day, hmm?" He waved his wand and conjured the same hair clip he had used this morning. He gathered her hair in one hand and pulled it into the clip.
"But-"
"Don't finish that sentence."
Ginny scowled.
"Aren't you embarrassed?" she asked.
"Not even a little bit. Let's go."
He pushed lightly against her back and she stood up. He stood up, stretched again, and walked toward the library doors.
"Come on, Weasley."
She followed, her stomach in knots. She didn't want to have dinner with Lucius and Narcissa. She also didn't want to have a panic attack, although that felt like a pretty remote possibility at the moment.
Maybe she did want to have another panic attack, though, if that would bring on the light again. Now that she was more aware of what was happening with it, could she learn anything new about it, either about the light itself or about Alys's mission for her?
She unfortunately knew the best way to get there. If she kept calm, and continued to keep calm, maybe Malfoy would decrease her dose of the Draught of Peace. She couldn't avoid taking it, but if he decided on his own that maybe she didn't need it anymore...
Ugh. Why does it always come back to needing to listen to him? I don't want to.
They reached the dining room.
"Remember," Malfoy said, his hand on the door. "Don't be rude, speak when you're spoken to, and let me do most of the talking. We'll go back to my room right after and you can unwind."
Ginny nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Anger was already brewing in her stomach and it would take most of her focus to keep it under control.
"Good lord," Lucius said when they walked in the room. "I suppose you're looking to make an impression."
"Ginny, darling, those robes are lovely on you," Narcissa said after a sharp glance at her husband. "Madam Harwich has outdone herself."
"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy."
Malfoy walked to sit across from his mother and Ginny followed. He pulled out her seat for her and, after a quick glance up at him, she took it and let him push her in toward the table.
"Thank you," she said again, musing that that was probably 80% of what she would be saying the whole meal.
Thanking my captors for their wonderful hospitality.
"Tilly, we're ready to be served, please," Narcissa said.
"Yes, Mistress!"
Tilly appeared and, with a snap of her fingers, food arrived on their plates.
Maybe I can just tune them out unless they're speaking directly to me, Ginny mused as she took a bite. Make the whole thing a little more tolerable. But then what if I miss what they're saying, and Malfoy gets mad?
She needn't have worried. Malfoy's parents appeared relatively uninterested in conversing with her, perhaps in their own way looking to avoid a repeat of their last meal together. Narcissa was talking about some distant relative or other, with occasional input from Lucius or Malfoy - Draco? It didn't matter- and Ginny was left to contentedly eat her chicken. She smiled as she imagined the look on Narcissa's face if Tilly actually did serve one of Ginny's favorites. She had grown up with mince pies- Mum made the dough from scratch and it was absolutely delicious- but they were certainly not a sophisticated food, nothing like the elder Malfoys seemed to prefer. Imagining Narcissa trying to make some inane polite comment or other was actually quite funny.
"What are you giggling about over there?" Malfoy asked, the hint of a laugh in his own voice. Ginny bit her cheek to contain a laugh.
"I was just thinking about how different the food is here from at home," she said. "I don't know that you would like it much."
Malfoy sighed. "This again."
Ginny realized her mistake too late. How different the food is here from at home.
"You need to leave all of that behind," Malfoy continued, taking a bite of food. "This is your home now. I've told you that many times."
Narcissa and Lucius exchanged a quick look as Ginny's face twisted into a scowl.
"I'm sure that's easier said than done," Narcissa said with an awkward laugh. "It's only been a few days. I know when I moved in, it took me months for it to really sink in!"
Lucius raised an eyebrow at her. "Did it, now?"
Narcissa laughed again, more genuinely this time- it wasn't nearly as dainty of a sound, not as put-on. "I was only eighteen, if you'll remember. You men take it for granted- you hold onto the same ancestral home you've always had, no adjustment needed. But I had left the only home I had ever known, left my sisters, left everything to come here and start a new life. With a less-than-charming mother-in-law to guide me," she said, winking at Ginny like they were sharing some secret joke.
"My mother was perfectly charming," Lucius said, though his eyes danced like he knew it wasn't true. Narcissa laughed.
"To you, of course she was! Her darling only son."
Sounds familiar.
"I hope to be much closer with my daughter-in-law than I ever was with her," Narcissa continued, cutting into her chicken.
Ginny's stomach twisted. She can't be talking about me...
"I was just suggesting today that maybe you could teach her how to play the piano," Malfoy said. "She needs hobbies."
Narcissa dropped her utensils to clap her hands together in delight. "That would be absolutely lovely!"
I'm going to kill Malfoy.
Ginny offered a weak smile at Narcissa, unable to be more enthusiastic. Every "hobby" Malfoy added would take away valuable library time, not to mention the fact that Narcissa's veneer of politesse made her nauseous. It was fake.
"Do you play any instruments, Ginny?" Narcissa asked.
"No, I... I never learned."
"That's alright, then. We can just start with the basics. We have a lovely music room on the second floor, have you seen it? Lucius had it converted for me as a wedding gift."
"It's a beautiful space," Ginny offered. Silly, nonsense words. What would Fred and George think if they could see her now?
Her heart twisted painfully and she struggled not to let it show on her face. Narcissa seemed to sense it anyway, as she tactfully changed the subject.
"Daphne's birthday invitation arrived for you this morning, Draco, darling," she said. "But I'm afraid you won't be able to go."
"Why did she bother sending an invitation?" Malfoy asked, his tone scathing. "She knows the situation."
"She was being polite."
Malfoy scoffed and Ginny raised an eyebrow. Did he hate the formalities as much as she did?
"I'll respond to it this evening," he said.
"I already did," Narcissa said. "I said that while I appreciated her thinking of you and our family, I had no idea where you were or when you would return, and that you would be very unlikely to be attending any birthday parties if and when you did return."
"In case the owl is intercepted," Lucius said. "Very clever, Cissy."
Cissy? Ew.
"Just as well," Malfoy said. "I'm busy here anyway."
An awkward pause.
"Yes, your progress so far has been remarkable," Lucius said. Ginny's hand tightened on her fork.
You have your own agenda, remember? This is all background noise.
It didn't feel like background noise. It felt like a blaring siren right next to her ear.
"What's that saying?" Malfoy asked. "You catch more lacewing flies with honey than with vinegar?"
"Something the less delicate of our ranks could stand to learn," Lucius said. "Not everything calls for a Crucio."
"Exactly," Malfoy said. "Watch." He turned to look at her. Cold, dead eyes.
Oh no.
"You're missing having a family, right?" he asked.
"I'm missing my family, yes," she said.
"If Malfoy Manor is your home, what does that mean about its inhabitants?"
"It's their home too."
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "And? What is your relationship to them, if this is your home and their home too?"
"I think you want me to say they're my family, but that's not true. You don't want me to say the real word."
All true.
Malfoy scowled. "And what word is that?" he asked softly.
She looked at him, willing herself not to be afraid. "Captor."
He reached out to cup her chin. She flinched.
"Something to add to the affirmations, I think," he said. "Remember our deal- you get one chance, and then I use the tattoo. Look at my mother."
He let go of her chin and she did so. Narcissa's smile had fallen; her face was impassive, like her son was throwing a tantrum and she was determined not to notice it.
"Now call her Mother."
Ginny looked back at Malfoy in alarm, but his face held no mercy whatsoever.
"You missed your chance. Look at her and call her Mother."
Her neck turned like it was on a swivel. "Mother," she said softly.
Mum's face flashed in her mind- red curls, dimples, laugh lines around the eyes. Nothing like the aristocratic, cold face before her.
"Good," Malfoy said. "Now look at my father."
Ginny was frozen.
"Look at him and call him Father."
She felt like she was falling off a tall cliff as her neck moved in Lucius' direction. He was smirking at her.
"Father," she whispered.
The memory of that day in Flourish and Blotts filled her mind, the way Lucius had snidely insulted her entire family and the way Dad had fought back, punching him right in the face. That was Dad.
Dad.
"See?" Malfoy said to his father. "No Cruciatus needed. You will refer to them both as such from now on."
Ginny took a deep, shuddering gasp and gripped the table. She felt floaty, even through the Draught of Peace.
"I appreciate the thought, darling, but you're pushing her awfully hard," Narcissa said. "Look at the poor dear."
"She's fine. She just took a Draught of Peace, right before dinner. She's just being dramatic."
"Dramatic?" Ginny exclaimed, whipping her head to look at Malfoy.
"Consider your next words carefully," Malfoy said as he took a bite of food, as though he didn't have a care in the world. "You had a very good day today- don't spoil it now."
"I'm not spoiling anything," she seethed. You are.
"Good," he said. "Then you should finish eating, and Tilly will bring dessert in a few minutes."
Lucius's eyes were on her as she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, opened them again, and picked up her fork.
You need to keep reading about Morgana.
"I must say, when you were... chosen," Lucius said, "I had my doubts. No one could be more diametrically opposed to the Dark Lord's goals, after all. And for my son to be so infatuated with you... well, you can imagine under different circumstances, I would not have been thrilled to hear that news."
That makes two of us.
"But Draco is right," he continued. "You are strong. Strong enough to do what must be done, I think. You have a tough year ahead of you, but that will be over before you know it, and after that, you can look forward to a quiet and happy life here. Welcome to the family, Ginny. Or should I call you Ginevra? That is your full name, isn't it?"
"Ginny is fine," Malfoy said before Ginny could open her mouth. "Say thank you, Father."
"Thank you, Father."
Lucius smirked and Narcissa clapped her hands together again, a false smile on her face.
"Tilly, let's have dessert, please."
"Right away, Mistress!"
Almost over almost over almost over-
Their plates cleared themselves and dessert replaced them- a surprisingly rustic fruit tart.
"I know you were disappointed that I didn't get to celebrate my birthday this year, Mother," Malfoy said. "Or last year, really. But Ginny's birthday is in August. Perhaps we could have a small celebration then? Only with trusted people, obviously."
"That would be lovely!" Narcissa said. "We could have it in the gardens- the roses will look simply stunning that time of year. You'll be seventeen, dear?"
"Sixteen," she said, her eyes on her plate.
"Sixteen," Narcissa repeated. "Right. Well, when it gets a little closer, we'll plan something. And you must think of what you'd like for a birthday present!"
Malfoy laughed. "Good luck. Getting her to name anything she wants is like pulling teeth."
"It isn't, actually," Ginny said. Malfoy turned to look at her. "Rookwood pulled out one of my teeth, just to see what would happen. He had to regrow it, obviously. Don't know what he was thinking- clearly not a fatal injury. But I wouldn't say this is like that."
No one seemed to know what to say to that. Malfoy's jaw was tight.
"That man needs to be punished," he said, his voice low and cold. "How do we make sure that happens, Father?"
"Let me take care of it," Lucius said quickly. "No need to sully your hands, Draco."
"No, we wouldn't want that," Ginny whispered. Malfoy's face contorted with sudden fury. He grabbed her face again, harder this time.
"You seem to be doubting my ability to take care of you," he hissed, his eyes locked on hers. "I can assure you, I have no problem sullying my hands for you. I will take care of Rookwood, just like I take care of everything else. Don't you worry your pretty head about a thing- you have me to take care of you now. No pain ever again, remember? You'll have tea parties, and play pretty music, and look so lovely while I hold you, and never be in pain ever again. My sweet, lovely thing. Welcome to your tower, princess."
He pushed her face away from him, breathing hard. Ginny couldn't speak. She felt stunned. She could feel the sharp beginnings of tears in the corners of her eyes.
Malfoy stood up. "Thank you for dinner, Mother, Father. Ginny and I will be retiring for the evening. We'll see you tomorrow. Stand up, thank them for dinner, and follow me."
Ginny stood, her legs shaky. "Thank you for dinner, M-mother. Father." Her face burning, she turned away from them quickly and followed Malfoy, who was storming away.
On her way out the door, she heard Lucius say, "Our son has strange taste in women."
Her head was spinning. Malfoy's words echoed in her mind over and over again.
I will take care of Rookwood, just like I take care of everything else.
My sweet, lovely thing.
Welcome to your tower, princess.
Malfoy had said they were going to his room, but they got off the stairs at the second level, not the third. Anger still radiated off of him in waves. His robes billowed behind him as he walked swiftly to the portrait gallery and threw open the doors.
Half a dozen voices accosted her at once, exclaiming about being woken up or a rude entrance or blood traitors in the hall.
"Malfoy family," he said. "I'd like to introduce you to my fiancée, Ginevra Weasley."
More voices now, talking over each other to be heard.
"She is a blood traitor no longer," Malfoy said, his voice louder than them all. "The Dark Lord has chosen her- she will bring a new era of blood purity to the world, and she will do so as a Malfoy. I expect us to be wed by the end of the year. Welcome her to the family."
Quieter murmurings of discontent now, drowned out by a chorus of welcomes. Malfoy looked back at her.
"What do you say?" he said, his voice sharp and cold.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Now you've met everyone," he said nastily. "I can give you a proper introduction tomorrow. You've got about a thousand years of family history to learn, after all. But not tonight."
He swept out of the room and she followed him, still under the compulsion.
"Damn Weasleys!" a portrait called after them.
He stopped in a sitting room, one she hadn't been in before except during her exploration of the manor her first day here, but it was a brief stop. He grabbed a bottle of firewhisky and two glasses.
"I wasn't sure what we were going to do this evening," he said as he walked out of the room. "I'm still figuring out that part of our routine. But tonight, we're going to get absolutely rip-roaring drunk."
"Draco, I-"
"You don't want to get drunk, I know, I know. I'm sick of hearing what you don't want."
"I'm sorry," she said quietly. He stopped walking, his back still to her.
"Sorry for what?" he asked.
"Sorry for… embarrassing you at dinner," she tried. In truth, she wasn't sure what she was sorry for. She just wanted him to calm down.
It wasn't the right answer. "Nothing new there," he said and started walking again. She followed.
They arrived at his room. He yanked open the door and she followed him inside.
"Sit down on the bed," he said.
She did, cautiously. "You're scaring me a little bit," she said.
"Dragons can be scary," he said. "When provoked."
You're not a dragon.
"I'm sorry," she said again.
"Stop apologizing."
He poured firewhisky into a glass and downed the whole thing.
"You thought I was drunk that first night," he said. "On Valentine's Day. But I wasn't. I only had two drinks all night, one right before you and one with you. Not like you, you were absolutely sloshed. The only reason you let me touch you. Bet you regret that now."
Ginny said nothing, feeling like she was seeing something she wasn't supposed to. Malfoy rarely lost control, but he had when she had tried to kiss him, and he had again tonight. But why? What was the tipping point? Was being embarrassed in front of his father really that big of a deal?
He poured another glass for himself and downed it. "Now it's my turn to get totally sloshed. Stand in front of the mirror."
She didn't move.
"I swear to Merlin, Ginny, if I have to use the tattoo-"
She moved. She got up and stood in front of the mirror, her heart pounding in her chest.
He poured firewhisky in two glasses and brought one to her.
"Drink this," he said. "All of it."
"It'll make me sick," she said. She hadn't drank since Valentine's Day.
"No it won't. Drink, now."
She drank, but apparently not fast enough. He tipped the bottom of the glass up, making her chug it. She coughed and sputtered after swallowing it. It burned on the way down- not entirely unpleasant. She normally liked firewhisky.
He drank his own, slower than the first two. "Good," he said, his voice husky as the effects of the alcohol started to hit him. "Undress for me."
He stood behind her and watched as her shaky hands undid the buttons at the top of her robe.
"The rest of your clothes will be here tomorrow morning," he said as he sipped his drink. "Maybe we'll have a fashion show- test everything out. So I can see what my favorite is."
Ginny stayed quiet, willing him to get whatever this was out of his system.
He summoned the firewhisky and poured her another glass.
"Drink."
"Can I sip it?" she asked.
"Fine."
She sipped it before handing it back to him, her hands returning to her buttons.
"I think with whichever one is my least favorite, I'll indulge myself in a fantasy," he said before taking another drink. "Ripping your robes clean off- buttons will probably go flying everywhere, but that's part of the fun. And that cute little gasp you'll probably make, scared and surprised and maybe a little intrigued all at once."
Alcohol apparently removed Malfoy's mental filter. Every thought that crossed his mind seemed ready to pour out of his mouth.
"Drink again," he said, handing her the glass. She drank, noting her cheeks were starting to get warm.
She didn't want to get drunk. Getting drunk was dangerous. Her filter needed to stay very firmly intact. Dangerous to speak unfiltered about Malfoy, and especially dangerous to accidentally reveal something about Alys or the gem.
She had finished with the buttons. She looked at him in the mirror and, at his expectant gaze, handed him the glass and shrugged her shoulders, letting the robe drop off.
Malfoy let out what could only be described as a sigh of relief.
"I'm never going to get tired of that," he said. "Never ever. How can you even be real?"
She felt no compulsion to answer- the question was apparently a rhetorical one.
He stepped closer to her and ran a hand across her chest, watching their reflection.
"Forbidden fruit," he said softly, his hand skating dangerously close to her breast. She held her breath for a second, sure that he was going to slip below her bra line, but he didn't. His hand moved up instead, toward her neck. Toward the love bite, which was quite red now, almost purple. His fingers moved over it and she winced. It was tender.
"Sorry," he murmured. "Maybe I went a little overboard. It wasn't supposed to hurt."
He removed her hair clip. Her hair tumbled forward, partially covering the mark.
"I don't want you to hurt," he whispered, some strange bit of longing in his voice. "I want you to be happy. You laughed in the garden last night and I thought I was dying, the sound was so beautiful. I want that all the time. All the time."
His face hardened again and he downed the rest of his drink before pouring another one and drinking part of it.
"Drink the rest of this one," he said, his voice cold again as he handed her glass to her. "You need to catch up."
She drank, feeling like she had entered some alternate dimension. She handed him back the glass and he used his wand to levitate it back to the table.
He leaned forward and put his chin on her shoulder.
"You're right here in front of me," he said, smiling at their reflection. He was definitely a little tipsy at least. "Right here, and yet you might as well be on the moon."
What the bloody hell is he talking about?
He put his hands on her waist, feeling how it dipped in away from her hips.
"That's what I told myself when you were being tortured, did you know? She might as well be on the moon. If I was a dragon, maybe I could have flown there. But I'm not really a dragon. I'm a man, and men can't fly to the moon. Men have to stay on the ground."
He took a sip of firewhisky but kept his face on her shoulder. He splashed a tiny bit on her shoulder by accident.
"You don't like to stay on the ground though," he said. "You like to be up high in the sky, far away from everyone and everything. Flying around on your broom. My darling Quidditch player." He booped her nose, and she struggled between wanting to laugh and being downright alarmed.
"I'm not sure if you can still fly without your magic," he said, and his voice was sad. She took a deep breath. She hadn't even thought about that. "Muggles can't fly on brooms," he continued. "And I'm afraid to let you try. Both to see you fail and to see you succeed. If you fail you'll be so sad. But if you succeed you would try to fly away from me, and then I would be sad. The tattoo wouldn't let you, but that's not the point."
He took another drink. "Why does one of us always have to be sad? Why can't we be happy, together? Wouldn't that be better? You could laugh, and I could drown in it, and we'd be happy together always."
Another drink. "I wish I had danced more with you at the party. One dance wasn't enough, and I saw you having so much fun with all your little friends- you're a good dancer. I'm not sure I know how to do anything other than slow dance, but you could teach me. I'm a quick study, I promise." He pressed a gentle kiss to her neck, ignoring the fact that her hair was in the way.
"You were supposed to go to a concert with them, weren't you?" he asked. Her heart squeezed painfully.
"Yes," she said, her breath shallow.
"I can't let you go," he said, and his voice sounded truly regretful. "You have to stay here. But there will be other concerts. Once you can leave the house, we'll go to every single Weird Sisters concert, every single one they ever have. And you can dance and be wild and have fun. Maybe your friends can go to some of them. Honestly, I think Blaise has a crush on Kathleen, even though she would absolutely gut him if he-"
"Blaise knows Kathleen?" Ginny interrupted.
"Mmhmm," Malfoy said, his eyes half-closed. "He helped me at school. When she was under the Imperius. Nothing weird- he just likes to flirt. But he was just as worried about her as I was. Wanted to make sure she was safe, that night. So I did. I kept her safe, and then I made her forget." His voice was soft now.
"Made her forget you?" Ginny asked.
"No. Made her forget Blaise. I couldn't let him get in trouble."
Anger simmered in Ginny's chest, but Malfoy was far too unpredictable right now for her to risk saying anything.
He took another drink. "I think I'm drunk," he said. "I don't normally drink very much. Only drank at the party because you were…"
"Why don't you lay down?" Ginny whispered. "Rest."
Malfoy started giggling. Not laughing, actually giggling. "I never get to rest. Silly."
Definitely drunk.
"Let me help you," she said. Malfoy's eyes widened.
"Don't say that," he said sternly, looking at her in the mirror. "I have to hold the line. You can't move it."
What the hell is he talking about?
"Pansy used to say that," he said. "Let me help you, Draco. Let me help you relax. And boy oh boy, did I relax. You don't want to hear that though." He put his hands over her ears.
"Why don't we get ready for bed, and go to sleep?" she tried again. Malfoy was definitely drunk, and getting drunker by the second. It felt like anything could happen here.
"But I'm not tired," he said, even though his eyes were half closed. "If I fall asleep, I'm alone. I don't want to be alone."
"I'm right here," Ginny said. "I'm not going anywhere."
"You're not?" he asked, his voice full of awe.
"You know I'm not."
She could feel the disappointment sink into his body as he realized she was talking about the tattoo. But what did he honestly expect her to say?
"We can get ready for sleep," he said. "I have to lie in my bed."
He stood up, but he was a bit wobbly. He scrunched up his face, and Ginny bit back a laugh.
"How the bloody hell am I going to take off my shoes like this?" he asked.
"Do you… want help?" Ginny asked, a laugh in her voice.
"Hmm."
"Go sit on the bed."
He did, with a great plop.
"Fucking Snape," he said, apropos of nothing. Ginny chose to ignore it- he didn't know what he was saying.
"Being drunk is nice," he said as she knelt down to unlace his shoes. "Warm, and a bit silly."
"It is a bit silly, yes," she agreed. She hadn't drank enough to be drunk, but she definitely felt warm.
Malfoy gave up on sitting upright and fell backwards onto the bed. Ginny unlaced one shoe and slid it off, then his sock. It felt weird to do, but she figured the sooner she got him into bed, the sooner the night would be over.
"Everyone thinks I'm fucking you," he blurted.
Ginny froze.
"But I'm not," he said in a stage whisper. "Shh. Our little secret."
She slowly undid the laces of his other shoe. "Why aren't you?" she asked, afraid of the answer.
"You would fall apart," he said. "And then I would fall apart, and it would just be a big mess. It's all a big mess anyway, but not like that."
She slid his shoe and sock off, her mind racing.
"Oh noooo," he wailed, making her jump. "Oh no, I wasn't supposed to tell you that." She heard him clap his hands to his face.
"Why not?"
"Because you can't know, Ginny, obviously."
She grimaced as she stood up. She felt like he was saying something important, but the alcohol was both helping and getting in the way.
"I can keep a secret," she said.
"But you're not supposed to know about it."
Damn firewhisky.
"I'm going to help you with your robes," she said. "Put your hands down."
He did so. His eyes were closed.
"How the fuck do I fix that?" he asked. "I just fucked everything up. Like I always do. God fucking damn it!"
"Shh, shh, don't get upset," Ginny murmured, reaching for the buttons on his robe. "We can fix it."
What "it" is, I have no idea.
"But how?" he moaned.
"I'm not sure," she hedged. "Maybe it will make more sense in the morning."
He moaned again. "The morning. It's going to hurt so much in the morning."
"What is?"
"Going back under."
She grimaced again. Who knew Malfoy would be such a nonsensical drunk?
"And you're going to be so mad at me," he said, covering his face with his hands again. "Always mad at me. I deserve it. My punishment."
She took a sharp intake of breath at her own words being repeated back to her.
I need to get him to go to sleep. And then replay this whole thing about fifty times.
"Draco, sit up," she said. He did so, removing his hands from his face and blinking blearily at her.
"Why are you so pretty?" he asked. "Who allowed that?"
"I don't know," she said indulgently as she slid his robe off his shoulders. "Guess I was just born that way."
"Lucky you," he said. "And lucky goddamn Potter for getting to be with you. And Thomas, and Corner, or whatever the fuck his name was."
"Shh," she said, ignoring the pain in her chest. "It's in the past now."
A lie. I hope.
She pushed his robe off, and his Sectumsempra scars caught her eye. He hadn't wanted her to look before.
Maybe she was tipsier than she thought, because she reached out and traced her finger along one. He gasped a little.
"This must have hurt so badly," she said. "I'm sorry it happened."
Not sorry you didn't get to Crucio Harry, but sorry it led to this.
"Now I'm ugly," he said in such a sad voice that she wanted to laugh.
"You're not ugly," she said.
"No?"
"No."
"Hmm."
"How could you possibly think you're ugly?" she asked. "Lots of girls had crushes on you- who cares about some scars?"
"Not you though," he said, still looking at her with glazed eyes. "You didn't have a crush on me."
"It doesn't matter now," she said, not wanting to give an outright answer and make him spiral again. "Can you stand?"
"Yes ma'am."
He went to stand, and put his hand on her shoulder for a second to steady himself. His robe slid off his arms and fell to the bed, leaving him in his underwear.
"Draco, what happened to your arm?"
"The Dark Mark, silly. We all have them."
"No, your other arm."
"Oh." He looked down at the network of angry scars. "Nothing important. They'll go away."
"I can put Dittany on them-"
"No. They stay for now."
Ginny frowned, having a suspicion of where they came from but not wanting to say it. Malfoy was revealing a wealth of information to her tonight, but she didn't know what any of it meant, or how she could use it.
"Alright," she said, not knowing what else to say. She reached behind him and pushed his robe onto the ground, where it disappeared. "Sit back down. I'm going to grab pajamas for you."
He did, and she stepped away from him toward the wardrobe.
"You're taking care of me," he observed. "Why?"
"You needed it," she said, rummaging through his drawers before pulling out a pair of flannel pants and a loose, short-sleeved cotton shirt. She walked up to him, pajamas in hand, and grabbed his right arm with her free hand.
"No more of this," she said. "Promise?"
His eyes were glassy as he looked up at her. "Why?"
"I don't want you to do it."
"Why?"
"It isn't good. It isn't right."
"Does it upset you?"
"Yes."
He looked down at the scars. "Okay. Then I promise."
"Lift your arms," she said. He did so, and she slid the shirt over his head.
"Feels funny to have someone else dress you," he observed. "Guess you know the feeling though."
"Yes," she agreed. "I'm going to put your legs in these pants but you're going to need to pull them up."
Together, they got his pants on.
"I don't deserve you," he said sadly. "How am I ever going to protect you well enough?"
She started to turn away, but he grabbed her wrist. "You deserve a prince, but I have to be a dragon," he said, desperation in his voice.
"It's alright, Draco," she said, and he started crying.
What in the actual hell is going on?
"Shh, it's alright," she whispered, unsure of how to comfort him. Fuck, why the hell was she comforting him?
Because you would want someone to comfort you, if you were drunk and miserable.
"Say it again."
"It's alright."
He took a big sniffling breath and blinked furiously, willing himself to stop crying.
"I want to hold you while I fall asleep," he said. "Can you put your nightgown on and come here? Please?"
Ginny did not particularly want to do so, but she also didn't want him to start crying again, or worse, get angry again. So she walked to the wardrobe, grabbed the other nightgown- pale lavender silk- and slipped it over her head.
"Lights off now," he said, and with a wave of his wand, it was so. Moonlight streamed in through the window, making a column of pale light leading up to where he sat on the bed.
"Oh fuck," he said.
"What?" she asked.
"I've never done Legilimency drunk before."
She froze. "You don't need to do Legilimency right now. You're going to hold me as we fall asleep, remember?"
He shook his head vigorously, trying to clear it. "No, I have to. Come here."
"Draco-"
"Ginny be good. Come here."
"Please, I don't want you to."
"I have to. Come here."
Fuck! I wasted my goddamn chance. Blast this stupid fucking tattoo.
She walked forward, stony-faced. He looked sad, but Ginny didn't care even a little bit. He grabbed her arms and pulled her onto the bed, next to him.
"Keep eye contact with me. Legilimens."
They dropped into the same memory. Why? Why the hell were they watching it again?
Malfoy didn't stay in one place this time. He wandered around the orchard, apparently looking for something. He didn't care about the people in the memory at all.
Not like Ginny did.
She drank in the sight of them, savored their voices. It was the closest she could get. She had to take what she could get.
"Fuck!" Malfoy cursed from some distance away, but Ginny didn't care. Harry was smiling at her past self, and if she let go for a moment, she could pretend it was happening in real time.
Up she and Malfoy went, into the sky, following her past self. Malfoy looked grumpy. He looked around at the sky, looking for… something.
"What the hell is so special about this memory, anyway?" she asked him.
"You were happy here," he said simply.
"I was happy lots of times. Lots of places."
"I sure hope so. But I'm too drunk right now to look. We'll try tomorrow."
He pulled her out of the memory.
"Sorry," he said. "I knew you would hate that. But I had to. You can look away now."
"You're not going to find anything," she said, making him flinch. "You-Know-Who and Rookwood both already went through my memories. There's nothing for you to find."
"Who says I'm looking for the same thing they were?" he asked, leaving her more confused than ever. "Enough of this now. Get into bed."
"What if I don't want to?"
"Then I will command you to. Your choice."
"Right," she said sarcastically and stomped to her side of the bed. She climbed under the sheets and faced the bathroom, feeling completely overloaded. Dinner to now had been an absolute whirlwind.
He climbed into bed and sidled up behind her, making her stiffen. He slid one arm under her pillow and laid the other arm loosely over her waist.
"Relax against me."
She did, and he snuggled in close to her, tucking her head under his chin.
"Go to sleep now," he whispered. "Good night, Ginny."
She stayed silent, her mind racing long after his breathing evened and he fell asleep.