JUNE 8th, 1997
Severus Apparated to the Shrieking Shack, his hood drawn. This was risky. Very risky. But he had to try.
His eyes skimmed over the dusty building, ignoring the splatter of blood that was several years old now. This place housed too many memories, too many things he would rather forget. If only he had known, he could have killed Wormtail right here. Right here. And perhaps none of this would have happened.
Useless, wishful thinking. He swept down the rickety stairs, heading for the entrance to the tunnel that would lead to the Whomping Willow.
Severus wished for a lot of things, but none more than that Albus Dumbledore were still alive. Well, not more than that Lily were still alive, but that loss was older. More rooted into his psyche. Severus didn't even know who he would be if Lily hadn't died. It was as true a fact as his own name- he was Severus Snape, he was a wizard, he had inadvertently killed Lily Evans, his eyes were brown...
All facts. Indisputable, irrevocable facts. One of which he worked to atone for, every single day. It would never be enough, but it would be a dishonor to Lily's memory, her sacrifice, if Severus did not give every ounce of himself over to protecting the only piece of her still left in the world.
Harry Potter was safe at his aunt and uncle's house. But not for long. Two short months until the boy came of age, and Lily's last act of love broke forever. As always, Severus would walk the tightrope it took to keep him out of harm's way while not alerting the Dark Lord to his true allegiances. But he couldn't do it alone. He needed Albus.
Down the long, cramped tunnel and through the Whomping Willow- easily subdued by pressing the knot at its base. It was early in the morning, so early that the sun hadn't yet crested the horizon. Here would be the test. He held his breath and stepped out of the tunnel and onto the grounds.
Nothing happened. Severus breathed a sigh of relief. The protective enchantments were only on the perimeter. Would the Ministry never learn? Hogwarts held many secrets...
He cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and hurried across the grounds. Going in through the greenhouses would be the easiest- unlikely to be patrolled, especially at this early of an hour. It would mean a longer walk to the Headmaster's office, but Severus would sacrifice speed for safety.
It was possible that Minerva would have moved into the Headmaster's quarters, but he thought it was unlikely. He knew Minerva. She would still be deep in mourning- as they all were- and while she might occupy Albus's office to appease the Ministry, sleeping in the bed that had once been his would be a step too far for her. She would be in her own quarters, the same ones she had occupied since before Severus had taken the Potions master post, and that was far, far away from the Headmaster's office.
He didn't know what password Minerva might have set, but it shouldn't matter. He and Albus had planned for this contingency, and there was no reason Minerva would know about it. At least as far as Severus knew.
Why did Albus have to be so bloody good at keeping secrets? Feeding different scraps of information to different people, but never enough at a time... never enough...
Don't be bitter now, he chided himself. You have work to do.
He made it into the castle safely. It was, predictably, deserted. It always felt strange to walk the corridors during the summer; it was like the echoes of students past and present lived on in the halls, the ghosts of laughter and mischief and, if Severus listened well enough, despair. So many memories here. Some good, and many not.
They were in the past now though. Severus had quite enough problems in the present without going digging for more.
He reached the Headmaster's office. The stone gargoyle seemed to sense him even through the Disillusionment Charm- he could feel its eyes on him.
"Cerva numquam moritur," he murmured. The doe never dies.
The gargoyle hopped aside, and Severus ascended the stairs.
The office was just as he remembered it. As he had predicted, Minerva had left the place almost entirely intact, like a kind of shrine to Albus's memory.
Would he do the same, when the office became his in just a couple of months? Would he be allowed to do the same, or would it look suspicious to not deface the office of his supposed greatest enemy? The constant calculus was exhausting.
Relief flooded him as he saw Albus's portrait fixed on the wall behind the desk. His knees buckled a bit as his old friend smiled at him.
"Hello, Severus," Albus said softly.
"Albus," Severus said. He removed the Disillusionment Charm, made himself stand up straight, and moved to sit in one of the chairs - there were rather more of them than he remembered. "Please forgive me."
"There is nothing to forgive," Albus said. "But I grant it to you just the same. And please forgive me, for asking it of you."
Severus's chin quivered as he held back tears. He wouldn't cry. Not here. Not now.
"I need your help," he said, not quite ready to grant his own forgiveness just yet.
"I'm sure a lot has happened," Albus said. "Tell me."
So he did. He told Albus about the aftermath of his death, the mad escape from the grounds, the Dark Lord's plans to infiltrate the Ministry and Hogwarts with it. He told him too of Ginny Weasley- her flight to Godric's Hollow, how the hand of Death had reached into the world and granted her the Hallows, along with apparent everlasting life.
Albus grew troubled here. "This is unlike anything I have heard of before."
If there were any less reassuring words in the world, Severus didn't know them.
"Truly nothing?" Severus asked. "You mentioned the air changing when Trelawney prophesied. I thought you knew something then."
Albus frowned. "There are some within the Department of Mysteries who study the nature of our reality- how it is that things came to be, and how they continue to exist. It is an unpopular opinion, but some of them believe that our reality is multiple, that our world is one of many. When you mentioned this disruption with Sybill, I had thought that was a possible connection- that perhaps a Seer, a true Seer, might be looking into another reality in order to foretell the future. I had imagined it to be more theoretical- I would have certainly argued against Death being a literal figure, for instance- but I thought it was possible that other realities existed. But for that reality to reach into this one... I never would have thought such a thing could happen. Ginny Weasley is truly immortal?"
"As far as any of us can tell, yes."
"And Voldemort has the Hallows."
"Yes."
"This must be most troubling for him."
"It was, until Bellatrix opened her big mouth."
Albus raised an eyebrow. So Severus recounted Ginny's imprisonment with Rookwood, his failed attempt to get her removed from the Dark Lord's care, and Bellatrix's brilliant idea to dip into the world of propaganda and religious aggrandizing. He told him of Macnair's modified Imperius Curse and Ginny Weasley's fate- fortunate or unfortunate- at the hands of Draco Malfoy.
Albus's frown deepened. "Creative, I'll give Bellatrix that. This modified Imperius is incredibly dangerous- we must do what we can to stop it from affecting anyone else. What do you know about its weaknesses?"
"Not enough. I can try to learn more. It is bound through our Dark Marks, something the Dark Lord doesn't give out to just anyone, so it at least limits the amount of people who can do the controlling. I'm also not certain what the effect would be if they were to try to bind more than one person- the spell sacrifices subtlety for absolute effectiveness, but I don't imagine it would be able to be done infinitely. It's bound up to the controller's body just as much as the victim's."
"So it's a finite resource. That's good."
"Likely finite. I will try to get access to Macnair's test results to be sure, but without that, it's a guess."
"A well-educated guess. As best as we have for now. You'll be back at Hogwarts soon?"
"Yes, along with the Carrows."
"Delightful."
"I will keep them in hand, as best I can."
"I know you will, Severus. No one loves Hogwarts more than you."
Severus wasn't at all sure that was true, but he chose not to correct Albus.
"What of the girl?" Severus asked. "I was unable to retrieve her, and I don't think it will be possible now. Between the increased number of eyes on her and the tracking capabilities of the tattoo, there's nowhere to take her, particularly as the Order wouldn't exactly welcome me with open arms."
"If you were to use the Fidelius Charm on a new location, would you be able to get her there?"
"Possibly, but I don't think I would be able to reliably hide that memory from the Dark Lord, not now that he's this fixated on her. Before Bellatrix, I could have directed his attention elsewhere after a time, but now the girl has become almost as important to him as Potter. He would see me casting it, even if I couldn't reveal the location, and I know you've stressed to me the importance of keeping my cover. That, and my sense is that if I were to hide her, say, in a Muggle house, Draco's Dark Mark would lead him to the neighborhood. He might not find the exact location, but it would be far too close for comfort."
"And then that would lead to additional casualties in an effort to find her."
"Yes."
"It is imperative that you stay in Voldemort's good graces, Severus. We cannot lose you."
"I know. That's why I haven't broken into Malfoy Manor and taken the girl myself."
"What of Draco?"
Severus's lip curled. "What about him?"
"Would he help her?"
"Help her escape? No. He came to me the morning after, in a panic, but all he wanted was to be able to hide memories in the girl's head."
"Hide memories?"
"Somewhat predictably, Draco has found that being a Death Eater doesn't suit him when he has to actually get his hands dirty. He would like to be able to turn it on and off, around the girl."
"But this is good news, Severus."
"I fail to see how. He has grown a conscience far too late to be of help to anyone, and is too cowardly to risk his own life, or the life of his parents, to help her now."
"You're angry with him."
"I'm angry with a good many things."
"Are we speaking of the same young Slytherin, I wonder? Or is there another memory on your mind?"
Severus's lip curled further. "You presume too much."
"Merely pointing out what I observe. You very much needed my mercy, once upon a time. Perhaps the boy needs guidance- it was a good thing that he came to you when he did, although from the sounds of it you chased him off."
"He will not help the girl escape, not when it paints him as incompetent and would almost certainly result in his parents' deaths as a punishment for failing to contain her. And his own, once his usefulness as a tracker was expended."
"And it would be unfair to ask him to do so."
Severus bristled. "Unfair? Since when have you been concerned about fairness? Life isn't fair, as I regularly reminded Potter during our Occlumency lessons. Draco is no different."
"You have had it harder than most, Severus, I know that. I have asked too much of you, and you still continue to deliver."
"And I will continue to do so," Severus said. "Always."
"Is she safe with him, Severus?"
"Safe is a relative term."
"In relative terms then."
Severus didn't speak for a moment. "I suppose so," he said finally. "As safe as can be expected. Though I don't know how long that will last- Draco can keep her safest by being the Death Eater the Dark Lord expects him to be, and I'm not sure he has it in him."
"A tragedy indeed, that the moment his heart decides to make an appearance, it's seen as a weakness."
"It is a weakness."
"Surely you can't mean that- Lily has been your greatest strength."
"Don't say her name to me."
Albus looked kindly at him, which made Severus feel equal parts incensed and embarrassed.
"Come now, Severus. Tell me- what's really going on here?"
"If I, at any point in the last seventeen years, had decided to indulge my heart over doing what must be done, things would have been ruined a long time ago. Forgive me for not being overly compassionate when he isn't able to manage the same for... what has it been now? Three days?"
"Can you honestly say that if you were asked to treat Lily the same way he's expected to treat Miss Weasley, you would be able to do it?"
"I would never be in such a position."
"You almost were- if she had been spared."
"And once I had her, I would have run away with her, or died to get her to safety- there is nothing I would not do for her, nothing."
"I think I see now- Draco's love is not singular enough. He cares for Ginny, but he also loves his parents, and loves his own life in a way that is perhaps unfamiliar to you. It is the split affection that you cannot forgive."
"Selfishness and cowardice. I cannot forgive that."
"And so what should we do about Miss Weasley, then?"
"I don't know!" Severus exclaimed, throwing his hands down in frustration. "I was coming to you for you to tell me what to do. If I knew, I would have already done it."
"Well, I confess, Severus, you know more about the situation than I do. If you say it is impossible to move her, then perhaps she must stay there."
"And just leave her to her fate then?" Severus asked with a sneer.
"I think you should help Mr. Malfoy manage his newfound responsibilities, but I have a feeling you will not do it, and in fact might cause more damage that way, given your attitude toward the poor boy. And, as you know, I have need of you elsewhere- the sooner Harry can accomplish his mission, the sooner this will all be over, and Ginny can be saved. Draco will just have to watch over her in the meantime."
"You know, I never fully appreciated just how much you played with other people's lives when you were alive," Severus said. "Of all the things I thought you were going to say, leave the girl where she is was dead last on the list. But why should I expect any different, when you're perfectly content for Potter to die as long as it serves the greater good?"
"I would not say I'm perfectly content with it. But the facts are what they are. If you have an alternative suggestion for either problem, I'm all ears."
Severus said nothing, a scowl on his face.
"Alas," Albus said. "I had hoped two minds might be greater than one. But, as I say, the facts are what they are. Ginny Weasley cannot be safely moved, and Draco Malfoy's soft heart is the best protection we can offer at the moment, though he would certainly object to being considered a tool of the Order. Harry must complete the work ahead of him, and then, yes, he must die. Only then can we rid the world of Lord Voldemort, and have some hope for peace."
"Well, unless you want him to die on his birthday, we should discuss how to get him out of his aunt and uncle's house. The Dark Lord has already stationed guards in the neighborhood- casing the place. They will seize him as soon as the protection breaks."
"You will have to give Voldemort the correct date of Harry's departure from his aunt and uncle's," said Albus. "Not to do so will raise suspicion, when Voldemort believes you so well-informed. However, you must plant the idea of decoys; that, I think, ought to ensure Harry's safety. Try Confunding Mundungus Fletcher. And Severus, if you are forced to take part in the chase, be sure to act your part convincingly... I am counting on you to remain in Lord Voldemort's good books as long as possible, or Hogwarts will be left to the mercy of the Carrows..."
"I know. As I said, I will continue to deliver. So Fletcher is to be my priority, and then Macnair, yes?"
"Yes. Whatever we can do to mitigate damage, we must do, but not at the expense of blowing your cover. Harry needs you, Severus."
"How he would resent hearing those words come out of your mouth. Did you know he tried to Crucio me on the way out of the castle? Standing up for your memory."
Albus grew teary. "I do not deserve the love of that boy. I regret the situation, and would change it if I could."
But he couldn't. Despite his larger-than-life reputation, Albus Dumbledore had just been a man, just like the rest of them. Not even a man now- a memory. Severus was alone, at least in the ways that truly mattered.
He turned to leave.
"Severus, one more thing before you go," Albus said.
Severus turned to look at him.
"How did Voldemort react upon receiving the Hallows?"
"He was ecstatic, until the whole business with the Weasley girl. That soured his victory a bit."
"And afterwards? Once he had had them for a while?"
Severus frowned, not sure what Albus was getting at. "Well, he carries them with him everywhere. Constantly fiddling with the wand."
"And the ring?"
"On his hand, as one might expect a ring to be." Severus raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Call it an old man's curiosity. Has he done anything particularly spectacular with the wand?"
"Other than murder a large group of Muggles in the vicinity of his home, no."
"Do keep me posted on that, will you?"
"Oh sure, I'll be sure to stop in for tea in a few days." He rolled his eyes.
"Severus. It's important."
"Everything is important with you- except suffering children, apparently."
"Perhaps it's me you're angry at, not Draco."
"As I said. I'm angry with a good many things."
"Will you do as I ask, even if you're angry with me?"
"Yes."
"If you think you can hold your temper while talking to Draco, then by all means do so. But do not let this cloud your judgment on your other priorities. Ginny is, as you say, immortal, and as safe as she can reasonably be for the time being. The quickest way to end her suffering is to put a stop to Lord Voldemort altogether."
"I know. I just wanted there to be a different answer."
"I understand," Albus said kindly. Severus winced. The old man's pity was too much.
"I'll be going now. I'll try to return again, but it will be difficult. I'll see you in September, if nothing else."
"Till September then. Goodbye, Severus."
He swept from the office, casting a Disillusionment Charm as he descended the stairs.
JUNE 8th, 1997
"Isaac, please eat your peas."
"I don't like peas."
"They're what we have to eat, and you're hungry. Please eat them."
"Auntie Alys says I don't have to eat my peas."
Alys's sister, Merilda, glared at Alys, who laughed.
"My fault. I don't like peas either." She winked at Isaac, who giggled. "We could go foraging for mushrooms and see what we find."
"In the forest?" Isaac asked, his little eyes going wide. Merilda frowned.
"That's dangerous, Alys."
Alys stood up. "Nonsense. The forest is ours, Mer, you know that. He'll stay with me the whole time. And you know the rules, don't you Isaac?"
"Never go into the forest alone," he repeated, nodding his head firmly.
Merilda still looked unsure. "It's dangerous," she repeated. "We're supposed to stay in the village."
Alys's face was stony. "And do you always do as you're told?"
"For my son? Absolutely."
Alys walked around the table and knelt down next to Isaac. "When I was a little girl, Grandmother took me into the forest and taught me how to identify mushrooms that were safe to eat, which ones were good for medicine, and which ones were poisonous. That seems like a useful thing to know, doesn't it? There's even a special one that Mummy and I sometimes use-"
"Alys," Merilda snapped, her tone sharp. "That's enough."
Alys grimaced and stood up. "He deserves to know his heritage."
"He's four. He deserves to eat his peas and play in the yard, making mud pies."
Alys glared. "When I was four, I remember you teaching me all sorts of things. Not making mud pies."
"Times were different then."
"Were they?"
"Yes, though you're loathe to admit it."
"Do you even believe the old words, then?"
"There's a reason you're High Priestess and not me."
"Yes, I suppose there is. I'll be back, then. With mushrooms for Isaac." In a huff, she grabbed a wicker basket by the door and stormed outside.
Ginny followed along, powerless to stop it. She was tired of riddles. Tired of trying to puzzle out Alys's life. Unless these memories decided to include a step by step guide for gaining the second sight, she wasn't interested.
Still, she followed along as an angry Alys hurried off into the shadow of the forest. The air was cooler here, and Alys's footfalls were muffled by the mossy loam.
"I wish you could hear me," Ginny said. "I need your help, but you don't want to help me. At least not in any way that matters."
Alys did not hear her. Her expression softened as she went deeper into the forest. She was truly at home here- every time Ginny saw her in the woods, it was like Alys became a part of the nature around her. Like she was connected to everything.
They spent some time foraging for mushrooms. Alys was good at it- she had found four different varieties already, and was contentedly humming along as she harvested. She had mentioned some special type of mushroom- could that be connected to the second sight, maybe? But she didn't say what kind... Ginny didn't know anything about mushrooms, although she supposed she could add that to her reading list. Malfoy was going to think she was a nutcase.
Alys stood up and started wandering back toward the village but stopped almost immediately. She gasped in delight, looking up at a tree where, high above her head, mushrooms were growing. A quick glance at her basket told Ginny that these were yet another variety.
They were far beyond Alys's reach. She stuck her tongue out a bit, thinking- which made Ginny laugh- before tucking the front of her skirt into her belt, modesty entirely forgotten. She started climbing, or trying to, but she couldn't get traction. At one point, she got about a quarter of the way up the tree but lost her grip and fell.
"Ugh!" she exclaimed as she hit the ground.
"Would you like some help?"
Alys was on her feet in a split second, hand going to her knife on her belt. After a beat, she hurriedly fixed her skirt, pulling the hem out of her belt.
Ginny hadn't heard anyone approach, but there was a man standing maybe fifteen feet away from Alys. He was tall and finely dressed, around Alys's age, with long blonde hair tied back behind him. He looked quite amused to have found Alys in this predicament.
"Forgive me, my lord," Alys said, though her hand didn't leave her belt. "I know I ought not to be here."
"The forest holds many temptations," he said, taking a step closer to her. "I understand. What's your name?"
"Alys."
"Ah. I know who you are."
Alys's face was cold.
"Let me help you, Alys."
The man pulled out a wand, pointed it at the tree, said "Diffindo," and the mushrooms fell like rain around Alys.
The man was a wizard! The first hint of magic she had seen, at least the kind she was familiar with.
"Thank you, my lord," she said, though Ginny could tell she didn't mean it.
"Of course. One might say it is the duty of a lord to provide for his people, no? For the strong to take care of the weak?"
Alys said nothing. The lord smiled at her, though it was cold.
"I know who you are. Don't let me catch you in my forest again, little world-walker. Run along home, now."
Alys gathered the mushrooms quickly before she turned and left, though she walked; she didn't run. She kept her head held high, though the beginnings of furious tears bloomed in her eyes.
Ginny woke up and immediately reached toward the nightstand for the Draught of Peace. Another double dose. She downed it, the relaxing elements doing wonders for the mild headache she had developed. Not a hangover by any means, but some unpleasant after effects nonetheless.
She waited for the "good morning," but it didn't come. It took her a moment to realize that Malfoy was still in bed, sound asleep.
He has to be hungover.
Ginny's head felt so full she thought it might explode. Last night had been... confusing. Important, and strange, and confusing. She had puzzled over it for what felt like hours last night, but eventually sleep had won out.
And of course when her head was already full to bursting, she had another Alys dream. More things to puzzle out, more things that were important and yet horribly unclear.
She wished she could write things down. Or say them out loud. Have some way to organize the endless loop of thoughts racing around her head, all competing for her attention.
Alright, don't get discouraged. Let's go over the Alys stuff first- it's fresher. I knew she was a priestess, but she's apparently High Priestess, so someone important to this group. That makes sense, she was leading that ritual and people do seem to look to her for help. She mentioned something about a special mushroom, but not what they use it for or anything about how to identify it- I could look into mushrooms and see what I find, but that feels like a pretty open-ended topic. The lord of their region is a wizard. And he called her a world-walker, whatever that means... Something to do with the portal?
Ginny laid back down and covered her face with her hands. She didn't want to face the day, and if Malfoy wasn't going to make her, she would happily stay in bed. He had said he wasn't an early riser- maybe the alcohol would keep him asleep for a while longer yet.
She looked over at him, her brow furrowed. His face was pointed toward her, but he was on his back- he had let go of her at some point during the night.
What was real, and what was alcohol-induced rambling? And what did any of it mean?
Everyone thinks I'm fucking you. But I'm not. Shh. Our little secret.
That was real. But Ginny didn't know what to make of it. He hadn't meant to tell her. Our little secret. But secret from whom?
Everyone, apparently.
You would fall apart. And then I would fall apart, and it would just be a big mess.
Did Death Eater Malfoy have a heart after all?
Her eyes traveled to his arm- covered by blankets, but she knew what she would see if she pulled them back. He had done that to himself. But why?
You deserve a prince, but I have to be a dragon.
It was like he had almost told her, almost told her something incredibly important. But the alcohol, while it had loosened his inhibitions, had also apparently turned him into an amateur poet.
I never get to rest. Silly.
I have to hold the line. You can't move it.
She couldn't ask him about it sober. There was no way he would answer anything. Maybe she could get him drunk again? But not too drunk, or else he would just start rambling nonsense.
What was real, and what wasn't? She couldn't tell. Every time she had started to trust Malfoy in the past, it had come back to bite her. He had manipulated her into going to Godric's Hollow, into retrieving the Deathly Hallows for Voldemort, and inadvertently caused her to be tortured for almost a month. That was real. Voldemort had promised her to him as a reward, ostensibly after viewing his memories and discovering such a thing would be enticing. That was real. He had every intention of keeping her here, no matter how badly she tried to escape. That was real. And he had had moments of kindness when she first arrived here, seemingly without expecting anything in return. She had thought that was real, but he had been determined to prove to her otherwise the next morning. Which of those was real? Or neither? Or both?
"Ughhhh," Malfoy groaned and rolled over onto his stomach. "Tilly."
"Yes Master Draco!"
He groaned at the loud crack of Apparition and Tilly's high pitched voice, pulling the pillow over his head. "Hangover potion. Now."
"Master Draco is not supposed to be drinking firewhisky-"
"Tilly!" He threw a pillow at her.
"Right away, sir!" And she Disapparated, though she returned very quickly with a thick, green potion that turned Ginny's stomach just looking at it.
"I'll hold it, Tilly," she said as she sat up, and Tilly gave her the vial.
"Let Tilly know if you be needing anything else! And tell Master Draco not to be drinking firewhisky."
She Disapparated.
I might be telling him to drink more of it, actually.
"I have it here when you're ready," she said.
He groaned once again before sitting up, bleary-eyed. He took the potion from her and downed it, making a face at the consistency. She watched his eyes clear, and widen as they took in his surroundings.
He dropped the vial, grabbed her face with both hands, and said, "Legilimens."
"What the fuck!" Ginny yelled as he fell into her mind.
"Keep eye contact with me."
He landed in the memory of last night and watched the whole thing, from the moment they entered his room to the moment he told her good night. When he finally came back up, he was laughing.
"You can look away," he said, the deep voice sounding very odd against his normal-pitch laugh.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Ginny asked, incensed at having her mind invaded once again without warning.
"I knew I said something last night, but I couldn't remember what," he said, still laughing. "Being drunk like that is a trip. I see why you like it."
"Can you at least ask me the next time you're going to do that?"
"I'll tell you I'm going to do it, how's that? No reason to ask."
Ginny glared, and he laughed more.
"Are we going to talk about last night, then?" Ginny asked. "Seeing as you were desperate to see what exactly you said."
"Don't be silly- I've never been desperate for anything in my life."
"I find that hard to believe."
He shrugged. "Believe what you want. Go ahead- ask away if you have questions."
"What was real?"
"You're going to have to be more specific. All of last night was real, seeing as it happened."
Ginny glared again. "You know what I mean! Our little secret?"
"I was being a bit silly, but it's like I've told you the whole time- why rush things?"
"But you want other people to think you're rushing things."
"Sure. Do you know how many people would love to be in my position? I need to firmly stake my claim." His eyes flicked to her neck and she fought the impulse to touch the love bite.
"But not in private."
He raised an eyebrow at her. "I'd be happy to stake my claim in private." He tossed the covers back and, in one fluid motion, climbed on top of her and pinned her wrists to the mattress. He straddled her legs, holding her down.
Terror raced through Ginny's body as she squirmed, unable to fully pull away but needing some outlet for the impulse to run, run, run.
He smirked down at her. "See? You're not ready. I do have to keep your fragile mental state in mind, after all- you would have a complete meltdown if I went any further right now. Although- this is maybe a little too tempting to resist."
Keeping a firm grip on her wrists, he leaned down and kissed her, though it was quick.
"Sorry," he said with a laugh. "My breath probably tastes like hangover potion and firewhisky. Here- let's have some fun. Get up, go brush your teeth, and then come lay back down." He climbed off of her.
"Draco-"
"When has asking me to stop ever once been effective? I thought you were a quick learner."
Her body carried her into the bathroom, her heart pounding. He followed behind her, a smirk on his face as he walked to the far sink and began brushing his teeth.
What's real, and what isn't?
Regardless of intent or mindset or anything like that, his body on top of hers had been real. Very real.
She was in danger, and she couldn't run or fight back.
She brushed her teeth, her hand shaking. She kept her eyes away from him.
He spat out his toothpaste, rinsed his mouth, and smacked her arse as he walked past her into the bedroom. Ginny flinched. She wanted desperately to hide away in the bathroom, but her body followed orders- she spat out her own toothpaste, rinsed her mouth, and walked back to the bedroom, feeling fuzzy all over.
If a panic attack happens, remember to take mental notes about the light.
Ha. Another goddamn thing she was supposed to remember, while she lost herself bit by bit.
She laid down and closed her eyes.
"You know I don't like it when you close your eyes," he said in a fake pout.
She opened them. "It's too much."
"I will say when it's too much. I think I've learned your cues by now. Just because you don't like something doesn't mean it's too much."
He climbed onto the bed and straddled her, but remained upright. He grinned down at her, and she let her eyes flick upward to the ceiling.
Too much.
"You seemed interested in my scars last night," he said. "I should have known that would be your thing, after Potter. Here." He pulled off his shirt and tossed it onto the floor.
"Go ahead," he said. "Feel them."
Ginny didn't. She couldn't move.
"Look at me and feel them."
Her eyes moved to his chest, to the thin white lines that snaked across it and over his abdomen. Her hand lifted of its own volition, tracing along his abs.
He certainly didn't seem worried about being ugly this morning. He was the picture of cocky arrogance as he watched her hand move along the firm muscle. He had a Seeker's body, lithe but strong. Firm to the touch.
"You clued me in last night," he continued. "I've been spending so much time touching you, I didn't even think about you touching me. You're just that irresistible, I guess. Wrap your arms around my neck."
He leaned closer to her to allow her to do so before he pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"You're mine," he murmured. "Mine now and always. I'll take such good care of you, just like I promised. And one day, very soon, I'll go further than any of the others- than Potter or Thomas or Corner. You'll be mine- all of you."
He kissed her again, long and deep. Ginny's mind was blank. His body was heavy on top of hers.
"Speaking of," he said, pulling back a bit. "I suppose I should know what that line is. What's the furthest you've gone with a boy?"
"Snogging," she whispered. Malfoy stared at her.
"Snogging?" he asked, incredulous. Anger sparked to life in Ginny's stomach.
"Yes, snogging. So fucking congratulations, you've already gone further than anyone else- no one's seen me in my underwear before, or touched my bare-"
Thigh. She couldn't say it.
Malfoy started laughing. "You've got to be kidding me. I knew Potter was an idiot, but he fucked up this badly? You wanted him for years, and once he had you, all he did was snog you?"
"Not everyone is a rapist," she said coldly. The light went out in his eyes and he stopped laughing at once.
"I don't like that word. Never say it again."
"I'm sorry you don't like the truth."
He leaned down closer to her and ran a finger down her cheek. "For someone in such a vulnerable position, you sure are mouthy. Let's put that mouth to better use, hmm?"
He kissed her, harder this time. He snaked one hand into her hair, pulling gently at the roots. His other hand pushed up her nightgown, coming to rest on her bare stomach, and she whimpered. She felt him smile against her mouth.
"Shh, you're alright," he murmured as he pulled back for a moment. "Nothing we haven't done before. It just feels different because you're lying down."
He kissed her again, slowing his pace and moving over her just a bit.
She couldn't tell herself it didn't matter. The words wouldn't even form in her head. This wasn't materially different, but it felt different. She couldn't ever run away, but just being upright gave her so much more of a sense of control. And he had been on top of her on the couch in the library yesterday, but that too had felt different- more public somehow, as though that would even make a difference. Being in bed, in a tiny little nightgown, with a half-naked Malfoy on top of her, was new, no matter how he wanted to spin it.
Finally, he came up for air, gasping a little bit and smiling down at her in delight.
"I can't get enough of you," he said. "You're fucking perfect. Put your arms down."
She did, her vision fuzzy.
Then, he did the worst thing. He rubbed along her tattoo with deep, deliberate pressure.
She moaned and, embarrassingly, arched her back a little bit.
"Oh my god."
I want to die.
He did it again and leaned down to kiss her at the same time, hungry and urgent.
It felt good and she hated it so much and her skin tingled and maybe she was dying at last, just let it be over over over-
He stopped.
"Okay, if I keep going I won't be able to stop," he panted. "And I have to stop for now. Stay here- don't get out of bed until I come back."
He climbed off of her and walked to the bathroom. She heard him shut the door and cast a couple of spells on it, including an Imperturbable Charm.
He liked his privacy. Not personal space. They were different.
Ginny stared at the ceiling.
JUNE 8th, 1997
Draco threw up, his whole body shaking as he retched into the toilet. His stomach spasmed as he gagged again and again, sobbing a bit from overwhelm.
He had fucked up royally last night. What the hell had he been thinking, getting so fucking drunk and then blabbing every stupid thought that came into his head?
She had heard so much. She didn't know what most of it meant, but she knew enough.
He had to prove her wrong. Last night had to be drunken ramblings and nothing more. He had fucked up, but she couldn't know.
And he had had to do all of it without Occluding- he didn't have time. He couldn't let her see him have a reaction after watching the memory. She had to hate him. She had to believe it.
He had had a believable excuse, he thought. He had told her she would fall apart last night, and that was true. And he wasn't supposed to let her have another panic attack. Would another Death Eater let that stop them? Probably not, but it was plausible enough.
Not everyone is a rapist.
He sobbed again.
She could never know. He would have to be better. Be better by being worse.
It had never even occurred to him that she could be a virgin. He had just assumed. Everything was awful either way but that made it so much worse. He was taking so many things away from her.
He had to find a safe place in her mind. He had to, he had to, before he crossed a point of no return for them both. Stretching the memory hadn't worked- it hadn't even budged. Maybe he needed to watch right before and right after? Or watch other flying memories? Why this particular memory about Quidditch?
Going back to the same memory three times in a row would be suspicious though, especially after last night. He couldn't give an inch today- he had to be perfect. Every doubt that he had raised last night, he had to squash today, even if it killed him.
He sat up, wiped his mouth, and flushed the toilet. He could be himself with Blaise, but not with her, no matter how tempting she made it.
She had taken care of him last night, even after he had been absolutely awful to her at dinner. A pure heart, indeed.
He didn't deserve it. He would never deserve it. Never deserve her.
And he had her anyway- maybe forever. What a cruel twist of fate.
He stood up, took a deep breath, and walked to brush his teeth for the second time. He wanted to pull out Aunt Bella's knife, but he had promised Ginny he wouldn't. And in fact, he probably needed to heal the cuts that were already there. They raised too many questions.
He spat out his toothpaste, washed his hands, and opened one of the drawers to pull out some dittany. Grimacing at the cuts, he spread some of the dittany on them, not letting himself enjoy the cooling effect as the skin knitted itself back together.
Soon his right arm was unblemished. The Dark Mark would have to be blemish enough.
The way the tattoo affected her was insane. One touch had her absolutely writhing underneath him. Had that been Macnair's intention? It seemed like it had to have been purposeful, but were all the bondings supposed to be sexual in nature? Draco hadn't assumed so, but maybe he was wrong. Maybe this was all some sick fetish on Macnair's part.
He went back and forth with himself on whether touching the tattoo was too far as he drew himself a bath. It was on her arm, but was clearly an erotic sensation, something she couldn't altogether control. Beyond kissing for sure, but using it would allow him to stretch out kissing for longer. And he needed to stretch kissing out as long as possible.
He would increase checking her memories to twice a day- and spread out some too, look at random memories mixed in with the one he needed. She would hate it- he avoided going into her mind much at all due to how much she hated it- but maybe it was better to get the pain over with all at once. In trying to spare her feelings, he was dragging things out. He couldn't cross the line, but he needed to get right up to it.
Just before he stepped into the bath, he realized he hadn't grabbed robes for himself.
Ugh.
He slipped his pants back on and yanked open the bathroom door.
"Stay in bed still," he commanded, but he needn't have bothered. She had grabbed the covers and pulled them over herself, tucked into a little ball in bed. His heart twisted but he made himself ignore it.
Dragons didn't have hearts.
He pulled open the wardrobe doors, grabbed clothes as quickly as he could, closed the wardrobe again, and hurried back to the bathroom.
He needed to Occlude, immediately. He tossed the clothes onto the counter, stripped, and practically jumped into the bath.
The sea was in chaos, churning and slapping aggressively against the shore. The sky was so grey it was almost black. Draco the Death Eater was buffeted about, the waves tossing him around like driftwood.
He had to take back control. This was his mindscape. He was in control here, if nowhere else. He took a deep breath and stood up, willing himself to stay on the water's surface. At first, he started to sink, but he put every drop of willpower he could muster into staying on the surface. He was in control here.
He stayed. He was walking on water. He walked deeper out, to where the churning was thickest- almost like a whirlpool. A faint glint of gold caught his eye down below.
Of course.
He held his arms out and made a gesture like he was wiping something away. Smoothing something out.
Slowly, so slowly, the water responded. The whirlpool closed. The waves subsided.
The sea was flat and calm on a cloudy day.
His thoughts stilled. The ache in his heart eased. His muscles relaxed.
He would find a viable way into Ginny's mind, and once he had done that he would do... something. What that something was, he didn't know. But he would do something to help her. She needed him. There was no one else. But he couldn't screw up again, and she couldn't push back. She couldn't go looking for a heart he wasn't supposed to have.
He laid back down on the surface of the water, Death Eater mask firmly in place.
There was no light at the bottom of the sea.
JUNE 8th, 1997
Alys, I know I can't see like you wanted, but I need you. Please. I can't do this anymore. I want to go home. No one else can help me- they left me here. I'm alone. Please.
Nothing happened. Ginny tucked tighter into a ball under the covers. It was a sea of white around her, almost like she was really in a cloud.
That would be nice, wouldn't it? To just be a cloud.
Malfoy's words from last night floated back to her. You like to be up high in the sky, far away from everyone and everything.
She did like that. That would be perfect. Exactly what she needed.
But what if she could never fly again?
She hiccuped back a sob.
The absence of her magic was like a physical hole inside her. She had never known a life without magic- not really. She had started showing signs when she was only three, and between her parents and six older brothers, magic had been as natural a part of her life as breathing. Now it was a weapon against her, something that held her down as the world hurt her again and again and again.
How much more could she take?
Not much.
The bathroom door opened. Footsteps sounded, but they didn't approach the bed.
"Tilly." Malfoy's voice.
Crack. "Yes, Master Draco!"
"Have Ginny's clothes arrived?"
"They just arrived, Master Draco! Would Master Draco like Tilly to bring them?"
"Yes, and breakfast too."
"Right away, Master Draco!"
Crack.
Silence. Then, he pulled the covers off.
"It's time to get up."
"You have to release the command," Ginny said in a hoarse voice. "To stay in bed."
"Ugh. Why can't this stupid thing just know what I mean? You can get out of bed."
She didn't want to move. Her body felt like it weighed a million pounds.
"Come on. Up. Or I'll get you up."
Slowly, agonizingly, she sat up.
"I don't think you're up for a fashion show right now," he said. "Maybe tonight. I'll just pick something for you this morning. Bath- go. Now."
She stood up and shuffled to the bathroom.
She should be thinking about Alys. Or Morgana. Or crows. Or mushrooms. Divination?
Not dragons.
But she didn't think about any of those things. She stripped, dropped her clothes to the floor, and started the bath, using the fourth tap from the left. It hurt her heart to smell the flowery scent of her soap from home, but not as much as it had the first couple of times. She got into the bath, washed her hair, washed her face, washed her body. Her mind wasn't really on anything at all. Just on what she was doing.
The shampoo smelled nice. A crisp, clean citrus scent.
Malfoy liked crisp scents. His soap had a piney smell to it, like she was up high in the mountains. It could have smelled nice, if the circumstances were different.
The bathtub had a lovely large window next to it- she hadn't even bothered looking through it before. Not a particularly interesting view- just the grounds and the forest beyond- but the panes of the glass were pretty to look at. She imagined for a moment that it would be nice to take a bath in the evening, with the lights out and candles lit. The warm glow would reflect on the glass and make the large open space feel cozier.
He was always asking her for things she wanted. Maybe she would ask for this. Appease him with something. And it would give her more time alone.
At least for now.
Would there come a day where she wasn't allowed to close the bathroom door?
There was dread in that, but it was far away. Like her glass was already overfull, and adding more water to it didn't do anything at all.
Whatever would happen was inevitable. It had sunk in, finally. Fighting wasn't worth it. It just made her a more appealing target.
She had to save her energy for Alys. She had to save her energy, but she wasn't sure she had any left at the moment. Even lifting her arms to wash her hair felt like it took a gargantuan effort.
She would have to recharge, somehow. Maybe take the day to rest, as much as she was able. No fighting. No research. Just rest.
She finished in the bath, pulled the tab, dried her hair, dried her body, and wrapped herself in the towel before stepping out of the tub.
A new bra and knickers had arrived. White this time. Malfoy's incredulous face as she revealed her lack of experience flashed in her mind.
What a silly joke.
She slipped them on and opened the bathroom door. Malfoy was sitting in one of the armchairs. Breakfast had arrived.
"We're going to eat first," he said. "Then I'll brush your hair. Get dressed."
There was an ivory set of robes laid out for her on the bed. She crossed to the bed and slipped them on. To her surprise, they were nice and thick- almost too warm for summer. But, she supposed, she probably wasn't going outside, so what difference did it make?
She buttoned up the robes and went to sit in the other armchair. Malfoy had prepared tea for her, with honey.
She took a sip. Exactly how she liked it.
Malfoy's focus was on his breakfast, so she let hers be the same. They ate in silence for a while.
"Why doesn't Tilly want you to drink firewhisky?" she asked when they were close to done. Malfoy smirked.
"My grandfather drank too much. So now anytime anyone drinks, she gets nervous."
"Mm."
"I don't especially enjoy being hungover. I don't think I'll drink again any time soon."
"That's how I felt after Valentine's Day." His smirk widened.
"How much did you end up drinking?"
"I don't remember."
"Merlin. It's a miracle you remembered our conversation at all."
"Mm."
"Do you think you're as good of a dancer sober?"
"I don't know."
He looked at her appraisingly. "Maybe we'll find out one of these days. I meant what I said last night- I should have taken more than one dance."
Taken. Not asked. Taken.
Ginny said nothing.
"Since you were wondering what was real last night, I also meant what I said about the Weird Sisters. Every single concert. What's your favorite Quidditch team?"
"The Holyhead Harpies."
"We'll go to all of their games as well. I'll get box seats."
Taking good things away. Making them tainted.
"Alright."
"You should say, thank you Draco, for being so considerate of my interests."
"Thank you Draco, for being so considerate of my interests."
He raised an eyebrow at her. "I didn't think you were actually going to say it."
She shrugged. "I'm tired of fighting."
He stared at her for a long moment. "Good," he said finally. "The quiet life, then?"
"Yes. In my tower."
He stared further. "What brought on this sudden change?"
"You did."
He looked away. "Glad to know my approach is working, then."
Ginny said nothing, merely finished off her plate.
"I'm glad your appetite has returned, too," he said. "Were they not feeding you enough, before?"
"They gave me food, but they didn't check to see if I ate it."
"Too busy pulling out teeth, I expect."
"Among other things."
"I meant what I said about that, too. I will handle Rookwood."
"Alright. Thank you Draco," she corrected herself. He wanted to be praised.
He stared at her. "You being this compliant is bizarre."
"Is it not what you wanted?"
He stared at her. "It… is what I wanted. Yes."
"I'll keep doing it, then."
"You want to give me what I want."
"I'm tired of fighting."
"You've been fighting for a very long time."
"Yes."
"And now your fight is over."
That sparked something in her, finally. She closed her eyes. She had a mission from Alys. That fight wasn't over.
"Yes," she made herself say, though her voice already sounded stronger.
"You can rest now."
"You said you never get to rest. Is that true?"
He smirked. "In a way. I always have work to do. And when you have a witch who'd love nothing more than to blow up your house with you inside it, you've got to stay on your toes."
"Am I still a witch?"
"What?"
"Am I still a witch? I don't have magic."
"Yes, of course you're still a witch. It's suppressed, not gone. You'll get your magic back."
"You promise?"
"Yes," he said without hesitation. "I promise."
"Thank you Draco."
He frowned, but said, "You're welcome."
He took his last bite and stood up. "Come on."
She followed him to the bathroom and sat down on the stool.
"Should I undress?" she asked.
"No," he said, surprising her. "Just your hair this morning, nothing else."
A change in routine.
Despite his professed love for them, Malfoy wasn't very good at sticking to routines.
Maybe he was right. Maybe they were helpful. Gave her something to expect. The dread of the unknown was worse.
He brushed her hair in silence, gentle as always. Despite everything, it still felt good. She closed her eyes before making herself open them again.
You know I don't like it when you close your eyes.
"You can close them," he said. "Relax."
She closed them, making herself let out the breath she was holding.
Did it hurt more to pretend it was Kathleen? Maybe. She did it anyway. She felt her head tip back, leaning toward the brush.
He let out a sigh behind her. Disrupting the imagining a bit. But only for a moment.
She was back in the Gryffindor dorm, her friends giggling behind her, and Kathleen was laughing as she brushed Ginny's hair. Maybe they were getting ready for the Weird Sisters concert. Had they managed to enchant their shirts after all? Ginny would want their second album, if she got to pick. It had come out when she was only seven, but that had been the album she had fallen in love with.
Maybe listening to music would be nice, after all. Was that offer still on the table?
A part of her admonished herself for doing anything at all other than looking for more library time, but she was so tired. Her fight wasn't over, but did that mean she had to be fighting every second? Couldn't she take some time for herself, to be happy even if it was only for a moment?
People are suffering outside, the voice chastised. And you're daydreaming about bubble baths and listening to music.
Ginny opened her eyes.
"All done," Malfoy said. He put the brush down and looked at her in the mirror. "I think you've had enough touching for the morning, don't you?"
Ginny nodded, wrong-footed. Since when had that mattered?
"You can't skip the affirmations though. Go."
She looked at herself in the mirror. "Malfoy Manor is my home." She repeated it twice more. "Draco Malfoy is the perfect pureblood male."
A spark of anger in her stomach, but it stayed small. She repeated the phrase twice more.
Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her. "Good. That's enough for now."
Didn't he say something about adding something about his parents?
But she wasn't going to push it.
"Now what?" she asked. He stared at her for a second.
"I'm debating about where to go," he said.
"Could I listen to music? Like you were saying yesterday."
"In a little bit."
Ginny bit back a frown.
"Go sit on the bed," he said.
Oh no.
Dread pooling in her stomach, Ginny got up and sat down on the edge of the bed, in the same place Malfoy had been sitting last night. He walked out and sat next to her.
"I'm going to look in your mind," he said. Ginny stiffened. "It won't hurt, but this will be longer than the other times I've done it."
I have to hide Alys!
"Please don't-"
"Shh, it's alright. It's not going to hurt. Would you rather sit up or lie down?"
"Sit up, but Draco, please-"
"Shh. Keep eye contact with me." He cupped her face, gently this time. "Legilimens."
He fell into her mind, more slowly than he had done before. She could feel him drop down, like a pebble dropped into a great body of water.
How could she even begin to hide what she needed to hide? Was it better to hide it quickly, or should she ignore it? Would he notice her attempts to hide something, and go for that? What the hell was he looking for?
They landed in a memory. It was Christmas, many years ago. She was six.
She was home. Everyone was home.
"Look how cute you were," Malfoy smirked, watching her bounce up and down with glee over opening presents.
"Why are you doing this?"
He didn't respond. He wandered around the room a bit, taking in the sights of the Burrow. This was his first time seeing it.
"Mum," Ginny murmured as Mum waved her wand and Celestina Warbeck began to play over the radio, causing an uproar of groans from Charlie, Fred, and George. Ginny walked forward, reaching, but her hand passed through Mum's image like she was a ghost.
"I don't want to be a ghost," she said.
"You're not a ghost," Malfoy replied, but he wasn't looking at her. He was digging through kitchen drawers for some reason. Why was he able to interact with the space and she wasn't? Some Legilimency ability?
"What are you looking for?"
"Anything useful."
"In a kitchen drawer?"
"The mind is a funny thing sometimes."
He apparently didn't find what he was looking for. He slammed the drawer shut and looked back at the family gathered around the Christmas tree.
"Who's who?" he asked. "Some of your brothers graduated before I got to Hogwarts."
She was compelled to answer. "The one with the long hair is Bill. Then Charlie. You know the others."
"Who are you closest with?"
She took a shuddery breath. "Fred and George understand me the most."
"You do share their penchant for chaos."
She wasn't sure why she shared this, but she did. Maybe because they were right there in front of her, bothering Percy as always. "They always told me anything's possible if you've got enough nerve. That's what I told myself when I climbed onto the roof. I was so scared I was going to fall but not hard enough to kill myself and you would just leave me on the ground with all my bones broken."
"I would never do that," he scoffed.
"Maybe you wouldn't, but I didn't know that," she said.
"And yet you still did it anyway."
"Anything's possible if you've got enough nerve."
Malfoy appeared to consider this for a moment. "Tell me about your relationship with your other brothers."
Ginny said nothing. Malfoy rolled his eyes.
"Fine, I'll phrase it as a question so you have to respond. What is your relationship like with Bill?"
"I look up to him. He isn't afraid to be himself, even if Mum doesn't like it."
"What doesn't your mum like about it?"
"He's too wild. He's a cursebreaker for Gringotts, and he lets his hair grow too long."
Malfoy laughed. "The first of many wild children in her family. Are you close with him?"
"Kind of. He's seventeen in this memory- he was already out of the house by the time I was old enough to want a real relationship. He feels more like a second dad sometimes than a brother."
"That's understandable. What about Charlie? What is your relationship like with him?"
"Similar to Bill, I think, but Charlie is softer. He relates better to animals than people. He works with dragons in Romania." She volunteered the information, hoping to avoid any extra questions.
"He was at Hogwarts during the Triwizard Tournament, right? Managing the dragons?"
"Yes."
"Did you end up going to the ball? Third years could go with an older date, right?"
"Yes."
"Not with Potter though."
"No."
"Who did you go with?"
"Neville."
Malfoy laughed. "Best night of Longbottom's life, I'm sure."
"I had fun."
"You were thirteen. You didn't know any better."
"I assume you think you would have been a better date?"
Malfoy considered. "Not at that age, no. I hadn't figured out I liked you yet- though it would only be a few months later, so not that far away. But if there was to be a ball now? Yes, I would be an infinitely better date than Longbottom."
"You... liked me, all the way back then?"
He laughed. "It took me a while to figure out that that's what it was. Toward the end of my fourth year, I just started noticing you everywhere. It was like everywhere I looked, there you were. It was bloody annoying. But then the summer came, and I kind of forgot about it. Then school started again, and there you were. But you had grown up a lot. And I noticed that. And then you were on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and suddenly everyone wanted to be your friend or ask you out. And I realized I was too late."
They didn't say what they were both thinking, about what her answer to him would have been.
"But yes, you can take comfort in the fact that I liked you a full year before Potter did, maybe a little more."
Ginny said nothing. Her six year old self was ecstatic about getting her first child-friendly broom. She had it clutched in her tiny little hands and was running around the house with it, cackling in delight.
"Mummy, can I go outside, please please please?"
"Yes, yes, alright," Mum said, sounding exasperated but in that way she had where Ginny knew she didn't mean it. "Bill, watch over your sister and make sure she doesn't break her neck, please."
"You've always liked to fly, then?" Malfoy asked.
"Always. But my brothers wouldn't let me fly. So I would break into the broomshed and steal their brooms. I got in trouble for it a few times, but Dad convinced Mum to get me a broom of my own for Christmas."
"Your persistence paid off."
They followed the memory outside, where six year old Ginny took off at a run and jumped onto her broom. She couldn't fly particularly high due to its safety features, but her child self didn't care. Bill watched her from the doorway, a smile on his handsome face as she soared around, laughing loudly.
Malfoy walked toward her, watching the delight on her face.
"You experience things so intensely," he said. "When you're happy, it's like you're feeling all the joy in the whole world. When you're angry, you're a firestorm. And when you're sad it's like all the light has gone out, everywhere. You never hold anything back."
"Why would I hold anything back? I'm being myself."
Malfoy smiled. "That's a very sweet idea." He walked further out into the yard, looking around. Again, looking for... something.
"If you tell me what you're looking for, maybe I can help you find it."
"Very funny. Let's go home."
She felt herself being pulled out of the memory, and soon, she was back in her body. In Malfoy's room. On Malfoy's bed.
"You can look away."
She did, feeling... washed out. That was the only way she could describe it. Like viewing the memory had drained her. She wanted to be curious about why he had chosen that memory, but she didn't have the energy.
"Alright, let's go," he said, standing up.
"Where?"
"The library."
Time for more research, apparently. Let's see what I can find.