JUNE 6th, 1997
Draco listened to Ginny's quiet footfalls in the hallway for a moment before shutting the door, leaving him alone with Blaise. He didn't turn around right away, keeping his back to the room. He was absolutely exhausted. He just wanted to rest. And he would, soon. As soon as this conversation was over.
"So," he said, keeping his voice light as he turned back toward Blaise. "What did you want to talk about?"
"I think that's a bit obvious," Blaise said, sitting back down on the chaise. "Thanks for ignoring my letters, by the way. Really great feeling like the Aurors might be after you any moment. I spent the last couple of weeks out of the country, just to be safe."
"I couldn't respond, obviously," Draco said, going back to sit on the couch. "What if our letters had been intercepted? No one can know I've come back home. Or that you know where I am. Puts you in bigger danger, don't you think?"
"Oh, I see, so ignoring me was for the benefit of our friendship, got it."
"Sorry you were feeling neglected," Draco said with a sneer. "I had a bit of a full plate, as you might imagine. And you were never in any danger anyway- between my work on Kathleen and your mum's reputation at the Ministry, they would have to be mad to bring you in for anything without ironclad evidence, of which there is none."
"Easy for you to say," Blaise said, crossing his ankle over the opposing knee. "You weren't questioned by anyone."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "They actually questioned you?"
"Not officially, no, and I made sure it stayed off the record, but Shacklebolt, Lupin, and Potter thought they made quite the intimidating trio, having me drug into McGonagall's office in the middle of the night after the fact."
Draco's jaw clenched. "Did they know anything?"
"No. Nothing substantial, like you said."
Draco's jaw unclenched. "Sorry about that. It shouldn't happen again."
"All is forgiven," Blaise said with a wave of his hand. "It was kind of fun, teasing Potter- he looked about ready to Crucio me if I wasn't cooperative."
Draco let out a quick, humorless laugh. "Yeah, I bet he did."
"Pansy's right, though, we were worried about you. Although maybe she shouldn't have been, given the reception she just got."
"I didn't say anything that wasn't true."
"You honestly believe that she doesn't care about you at all?"
"Oh she cares. But like I said- it's not about my sense of humor or having shared interests or whatever the fuck. I'm a Malfoy. That's what she sees."
"Can you blame her? That's how she was raised. What she was raised to value."
Draco shrugged. "Doesn't matter now. That ship has sailed."
"Yes, your... what should I call her? Fiancée? Does it count if you haven't proposed? Anyways, Ginny looked simply thrilled to be here."
"She's still adjusting," Draco said drily, flexing his hands.
"Is that what you call it?"
"Yes."
"I'm sure sticking your finger in her mouth helped that a lot."
Draco sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "You know what they expect to see." Crabbe and Goyle and even Nott to a certain extent... and the fathers they would run to tell all about this little "celebration."
"And when they aren't around? She looked disgusted but not surprised, so I'm guessing that's not the first time you've done something crass. What happened to admonishing me not to be gross? Remember that?"
Draco grimaced. "Anything I do could be viewed at any time- and for what it's worth, she's very certain that she's got me all figured out at this point. Even when I'm not being crass. It's all a subtle manipulation attempt, you see. Trying to get her to let her guard down."
He needed a drink. He summoned firewhisky and two glasses from the bar cart.
"Well of course she fucking thinks that, genius," Blaise said with a scoff. "It's been two days, and you're acting like a complete prick. You're not giving her any reason to think otherwise."
"I can't tell her otherwise. If the Dark Lord, or my father, or my aunt, or literally anyone else looked at her memories and thought I was too sympathetic to her, they would take her away from me."
"So hide the memories."
"I can't."
"Beg pardon? You seemed to have an easy enough time with me, and what you did with Kathleen was even more complex. It should be a breeze for you at this point."
Draco snorted. "Yeah, it would be, if there was anywhere to hide anything."
"Explain."
"Her mindscape is the sky. Clear, blue sky. That's it."
"Is that what we're calling them now? Cool word choice."
"Be serious."
"I'm always serious." Blaise winked. "But the sky. That's interesting. What have you tried so far?"
"What?"
Blaise raised an eyebrow. "What have you tried so far? Don't tell me you've given up already."
"I've only tried the one time. Right when she got here."
Blaise threw his head back and laughed, making Draco scowl. "And you're this sure there's no way around it? Mate, I think you panicked. You need to try again. I'm surprised you haven't already."
"I've been a little busy."
"Yeah, with making her lick frosting off your thumb like she's sucking your dick."
Draco put his face in his hands. "She threw herself off the roof yesterday morning."
"She what?"
"Hard enough to kill herself, except of course it didn't work, because she's immortal, and she knew that. Trying to escape. I had told her she couldn't go out any of the exterior doors, and not to bother climbing down from the windows. So she climbed up."
"Merlin."
"Yeah. And then last night with my parents she had a complete meltdown. I was... being what my parents expected, and she just lost it. This magic that's inside her... it's like nothing I've ever seen before. She was completely surrounded by light, and the air in the room changed like lightning was going to strike any minute. She had no idea where she was and was completely out of it when I finally got through to her. So now, according to Rookwood, I'm supposed to dose her with Draught of Peace if it looks like it's going to happen again. Which is literally all of the time, given the circumstances- that was her third dose today."
Blaise, for once in his life, looked like he didn't know what to say. "That's... a lot."
"Yeah."
"You can't lay off her a bit?"
Draco gritted his teeth. "It wouldn't change anything. I lay off, she gets a little reprieve, and then what? In a week or two or three I have to start back up because she's going to be around the Dark Lord, or the Death Eaters, and then she's just as bad off then as she is now. Only now she has weeks of memories of me ignoring her, or sympathizing with how horrible her life is, which doesn't track at all with me enjoying her- that was the word the Dark Lord used, by the way- and then people start asking questions. Questions like am I really loyal to the Dark Lord, am I the right choice to be her master, am I strong enough to do what must be done, and then before you know it I'm dead in the ground and she's given away to... I don't know, Yaxley or someone. So yes, I made her lick frosting off my finger, and sit in my lap, and let me massage her, and brush her hair, and play dress up with stupid fancy clothes, because those are believable things. They're me enjoying her, without absolutely ripping her to pieces."
"Which brings us back to needing to hide her memories."
Draco moaned through his fingers.
"Could Snape help?"
"Ha. No. He told me to fuck off."
"He did?" Blaise said, surprised.
"In no uncertain terms. I disgust him, apparently."
"Hmm," Blaise said, leaning back in his seat. "Well, he's not the only Legilimens in the world."
"Oh sure, let me just call up Aunt Bella and ask her to stop in. I'm sure she'd love to help."
"Sometimes you can really be an idiot."
Draco lifted his head up, eyes narrowed.
"Malfoy Manor has one of the biggest libraries in magical Britain," Blaise said slowly, like he was speaking to a young child. Or a stupid person. "It's no Hogwarts, but about as close as you could get. You think someone, at some point in magical history, might have written about this before?"
Blaise was right. He was an idiot.
"...I'll try that."
"A brilliant idea. You should have been in Ravenclaw, with ideas like that."
Despite everything, Draco laughed, and Blaise joined him.
"It's weird to laugh, after everything," Draco said. "I've been... in a bad way."
"I can imagine. Luckily you have me to do your thinking for you. Keeping my head in a crisis- one of my many talents."
"A little easier to do when you're not living through the crisis," Draco said with a good-natured roll of his eyes.
"Too true."
"Blaise."
"Yeah?"
"What if I can't find anything? What if it doesn't work?"
Blaise sighed. "Then we make the best of what we have. We'll think of ways to make this whole thing not absolutely heinous, as best we can, and, worst case scenario, wait for things to pass. She can't be on a media campaign forever- eventually you'll have more privacy."
We. It was that one simple word that did it. Draco burst out into big, wracking sobs.
"Aww, mate."
Blaise came to sit next to him on the couch and put his hand on his back.
They sat in silence for a little while, broken only by Draco's occasional gulps and sniffles.
"If only Ginny could see you now," Blaise said drily. Draco let out a watery chuckle.
"She'd tell you off for letting me manipulate you into having sympathy for me," he said, blinking to dry his eyes.
"You're not giving her enough credit."
"She made it perfectly clear that-"
"She hasn't seen this, Draco. She hasn't seen you."
His younger self was fighting so, so hard to come up.
Draco took a deep breath. "She can't. Not now and maybe not ever."
The chains held.
"Back to doom and gloom already, I see. I know I was giving you a hard time earlier, but you're not an idiot. You fixed the Vanishing Cabinet, you figured out not one but three prophecies, you managed to pull off a months-long disinformation campaign without anyone catching you, you made it so that Kathleen didn't get hurt but couldn't rat us out. You did that. You can figure this out. So what her mind looks different? It's still a mind. Learn it. Figure it out, like you did everything else."
"I'm sure she'll love that."
"Almost as much as she loved sucking the frosting off your finger. But it's for her own good, which, yes, I realize how gross that sounds."
Draco took a shuddery breath. "That's what Snape was angry about, when I mentioned this to him. He told me this was all a way to ease my guilty conscience and it didn't do anything for her at all. Which, I mean, fuck, I guess he's right, but I can't live the rest of my life like this. I just can't."
"You can worry about doing something for her- whatever something is- when you're not going absolutely insane," Blaise said. "One thing at a time."
That made sense. So much sense. Where had Blaise been all this time?
Draco hugged him, making Blaise jump.
"Whoa there, mind the robes please."
"Shut up."
Blaise shut up.
After a few long moments, Draco released him. "Can you come back in a few days? For my sanity's sake?"
"Of course. I didn't even get to speak to your lovely...erm..."
"Just call her Ginny."
"Ginny, then. She and I will be fast friends, I'm sure."
Draco laughed. "If anyone can charm her, it's you."
"Well, I'm not handicapped by having to be an arsehole, so I do have an unfair advantage."
"Speaking of which." Draco dropped his head. Everything was still so heavy. "I have to keep this up until I find something. So back to Draco the Death Eater it is."
"Boo. My least favorite version. Much too uptight."
"Stop trying to make me laugh."
"See what I mean? No sense of humor at all."
Draco punched him on the arm.
"And here comes the violence."
"Blaise."
"Alright alright."
Draco closed his eyes, focusing on his breath. Today was awful. Tomorrow would probably be awful. Ginny hated him. But he wasn't completely trapped. Not yet. Blaise was right. He had spent months doing the impossible. He had wanted so badly to rest, but he had to keep going. There was at least one more seemingly impossible task in front of him. And he would meet it head on. He and Blaise would meet it head on, together.
"Alright," he said, feeling much more centered. "Do I look like I've been crying?"
"A bit."
"Ugh. She can't see."
"Well, Merlin's ballsack, give yourself a minute. You can't just turn it on and off like that."
"Every minute she spends by herself is another minute for her to scheme up something."
"So let her scheme. What harm does it do to let her try something?"
"You would be surprised. Fred and George are her brothers, remember?"
"I'm guessing you've used your big spooky voice to tell her that Weasley twin sanctioned plans are off the table."
Draco laughed. "In a manner of speaking, yeah. If she thinks of a loophole she has to not act on it and tell it to me instead."
"Did I say you should be in Ravenclaw? Because I lied, that's a Slytherin thing, through and through."
"Got to use every advantage I can. I could never think of every wild idea that could cross her mind."
"So it's covered then. She's not going to blow up the house. Take a few minutes for yourself- relax for a bit. Then you can go back to big scary Death Eater mode."
"You're right. I will."
"How does Tuesday sound for another visit?"
Four days from now.
"Tuesday sounds perfect."
"Then I'll be off." Blaise stood up.
"Blaise?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks."
"There's that undying gratitude I was looking for."
JUNE 6th, 1997
Ginny hurried to Malfoy's bedroom, her mind racing. She didn't know how much time she would have, but this was an opportunity she couldn't pass up. She would have to wait for Tilly to bring her lunch, but after that, she would do everything in her power to reach Alys. What that would end up doing, she wasn't sure, but it had to do something.
She opened the door and was surprised at how her heart clenched upon seeing the space again. This morning had been absolutely awful.
"It doesn't matter," she muttered to herself. "It doesn't matter. Only this matters."
She stepped into the room, closed the door, and sat in one of the armchairs to wait for Tilly. The house elf seemed nice enough, but she certainly seemed loyal to Malfoy, and Ginny didn't trust her not to report any potentially strange behavior.
She didn't have to wait long. Prompt as ever, Tilly appeared with a tray of food.
"Tilly has brought Miss lunch!" Tilly said, levitating the tray to the table.
"Thank you, Tilly."
"Tilly was not knowing what kind of foods Miss likes, so Tilly made Tilly's favorite- steak and kidney pudding!"
"I'm sure I'll love it, you're an excellent cook," Ginny said, hoping to get her out of the room.
Tilly blushed and covered her face with her ears, making Ginny think of Dobby.
Probably a bad idea to ask her about him. Maybe another time.
"Thank you, Miss." She appeared to debate something, looking around the room. "Tilly knows Miss has been unhappy here, but Tilly doesn't want Miss to be unhappy. Maybe Miss could think about what foods Miss would like, and tell Tilly, and Tilly could make them?"
Oh you poor thing.
"I appreciate that, Tilly," she said gently, "but I don't want to get you in trouble. I'm sure Mal-Draco will want to choose what I eat."
"Tilly wouldn't be in trouble!" Tilly said earnestly. "Master Draco would be happy to see Miss happy!"
Ha. Yeah right.
"I'll think about it and let you know," Ginny said to appease the elf.
"Tilly will be ready, Miss! Now enjoy your lunch, Miss." She Disapparated.
Ginny let out an audible sigh of relief. No time to eat now- chatting with Tilly had wasted valuable minutes already.
If I'm potentially going to fall asleep, I should just lay down- pass it off as an impromptu nap.
She laid down on her side- yuck, not her side, the left side- of the bed and took a deep breath. She was nervous, a bit, to do this. What would she find?
Any information is better than no information. Than being stuck here forever.
"Alys," she murmured. "Alys, it's Ginny Weasley. I need your help, Alys. I need to talk to you. Please help me."
She repeated variations of her plea over and over, focusing on the memory of the misty place and how it had felt yesterday to be inside the light- peaceful, but other. Not of this world.
"Alys, please..."
...
She wasn't in the misty place. She was in the clearing with the standing stones. It was twilight. The sky was streaked with beautiful pinks and purples.
Alys was screaming.
It was an inhuman, awful, wailing sound. Her voice scraped against her throat, no words coming out, only a keening cry that made Ginny's hair stand on end.
She was kneeling in the middle of the standing stones, her hands covering her face. Her hair was wild and her dress was torn. It was the same dress Ginny had seen her in the first time- could this be the same day?
"This cannot stand," Alys said, apparently to herself, as she was alone. "This cannot stand. I will not be forgotten."
She pulled her hands away from her face, streaked with tears and dirt. And a bit of blood, Ginny realized. The look of abject despair on Alys's face was breathtaking- even in all of Ginny's suffering, she wasn't sure she had reached quite that level of anguish. What on earth could have happened here?
Slowly, Alys's expression shifted. Her jawline hardened, her eyes grew fiery. She reached to her belt and pulled out a knife, which she immediately used to slice her left palm.
Just like I did! Ginny thought with a start.
"Give me the crows, the cold, and the rain," Alys said, her voice firm and icy as she dripped blood onto the ground. "Give me the darkness to heal my pain. Give me the knife to draw blood. Give me your blessing, Great Queen!"
A crow cawed overhead.
"My tears, my fears, my burning heart, my anger sent out as a poisoned dart. My vengeance unstoppable from the start. Give me your blessing, Great Queen!"
More crows, and an echo of distant thunder.
"The screeching, the shrieking, the ripping sound, the heads from their bodies fall to the ground. The blood of my enemies is everywhere found! Give me your blessing, Great Queen!"
The air became electric, and a familiar portal opened in the air above Alys. Ginny watched, awestruck, as Death appeared to Alys just as it had to her. This time, Death was alone. Alys's face was rapturous, though perhaps not surprised, which intrigued Ginny. She had known exactly what to do, even though Ginny had never seen any hint of Alys being able to use magic. How had she known? How had she done this?
Death extended its spectral hand to Alys, offering the gem to her. Alys prostrated herself, murmuring unintelligibly before standing up and spreading her arms out to the sides, a blissful smile on her face. Death tossed the gem toward her and it arced through the air just as it had for Ginny, giving her a strange sense of déjà vu.
The gem hit Alys's chest, and it was like it was hitting Ginny all over again. Her vision was entirely taken up with golden light and she felt herself being pushed backwards.
When her vision cleared, she was in the misty place.
"What are you doing here, Ginny Weasley?" Alys asked. She sounded tired.
"Alys! Oh thank goodness, I've been trying and trying to reach you, I couldn't figure out how-"
"I know," Alys interrupted. "I told you I cannot help you. Why do you persist in tormenting me here?"
"Tormenting you? What do you mean?" Ginny asked, confused. "And what do you mean, you know? Have you been ignoring me this whole time?"
Alys gestured vaguely with a hand. "Reliving the past. Tormenting me with troubles long dead."
"Are you saying that when I see your memories, so do you?"
Alys nodded. Ginny huffed.
"Well, I'm sorry, but it's not exactly voluntary."
"I thought you were saying you had sought me out."
"This time, yes! But most of the time these memories just... show up for me."
Alys appeared to consider this before sighing. "What do you want from me, Ginny Weasley? I am tired."
"I need to know how I can use the gem," Ginny said. "My world is in grave danger, and I might be the only one who can stop it."
Alys laughed bitterly. "A familiar sentiment. Tell me, Ginny Weasley, are you prepared to pay the price that this power exacts?"
"Yes," Ginny said without hesitation. Any price, she would pay it. "Tell me what I have to do."
Alys looked around. "What do you see, when you come here?"
"Here specifically? Just mist."
Alys smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "You don't know how to see. You need to awaken the second sight."
Ginny stomped her foot in frustration. "Please just speak plainly, I don't have time for riddles! I don't know how much longer I have here, or when I can come back. What do I have to do?"
Alys's smile dropped. "Do not come back here until you can see. Go to a thin place, perform the ritual of the two who move as one, and awaken the second sight. Do this, and I will show you what I know, though I wish you would turn back. You are opening wounds long since closed, Ginny Weasley. Be prepared to get bloody."
"But I don't know what any of that means!" Ginny shouted. "I don't know what a thin place is, or any ritual, or- or anything!"
Alys turned away from her. "Goodbye, Ginny Weasley. May the gods remember you."
Ginny woke up, caught between raging fury and absolute despair. How could she have thought any information was better than no information?
She might as well have gotten no information. Alys had spoken almost entirely in riddles, but what little Ginny could make out wasn't promising. She needed to go to a thin place, whatever that was, and what were the odds that Malfoy Manor was a thin place? She didn't know anything about "the two who move as one," whatever that meant, or any rituals, but the only ritual she had seen so far involved blood sacrifice. And she didn't know what the second sight was, but it sounded like it might be related to Divination.
Ginny couldn't leave the manor. She couldn't harm herself. Her magic was locked away. She had never studied Divination.
Alys wouldn't help her if she couldn't do this, but all signs pointed to it being beyond her reach.
It couldn't be useless. It couldn't be.
Come on, think, think.
Could Ignotus possibly know something? She could try reaching into the misty place again but call for him instead. Maybe he would answer. Or would it be Alys again, angry with her for disobeying her command not to return until she could "see"?
In any event, she didn't dare try again right now. She had no idea how much time had passed, but Malfoy was likely to return any moment. And she was too angry, too disappointed, to go now anyway. Any more bad news would send her over the edge.
She laid in bed and stared at the ceiling for a while.
A short time later, Malfoy opened the door.
"You didn't eat your lunch," he said.
"I fell asleep," Ginny said in a monotone.
"Hmm." Malfoy shut the door and walked over to the table. "All those Draughts of Peace add up, I bet. Come here now and eat it, I'll warm it up for you."
"I'm not hungry."
"You barely ate anything yesterday and all you've had is a scone and one bite of cake today. There's no way you're not hungry."
Ginny said nothing. Malfoy sighed dramatically.
"I don't know if this is your version of a hunger strike or what, but no more. Come here and eat your lunch. Eat at a normal pace, until you're full."
Ginny stood up and walked to the chairs. Malfoy waved his wand over the steak and kidney pudding and steam began to waft off of it.
"You're gonna break Tilly's heart if you don't eat what she makes you," he said with a wink, like he was joking with her. Ginny said nothing, merely dug into her food. It was- predictably- delicious.
"Speaking of," Malfoy said, apparently content to carry on this one-sided conversation. "Tilly."
Tilly appeared.
"Miss didn't eat her lunch!" she cried, dismayed. Malfoy laughed.
"Told you," he said to Ginny. "It's alright, Tilly, Ginny just took a little nap. I warmed it up for her. Could you bring me lunch too?"
"Right away, Master Draco!" And with a pop, she was gone.
Malfoy sat in the other chair and allowed her to eat in silence. Soon, Tilly reappeared with an identical plate for Malfoy.
"Thanks, Tilly."
They ate in silence for a bit, though Ginny could feel Malfoy's eyes on her.
As always.
What on earth was she going to do about Alys? A thin place. The ritual of the two who move as one. The second sight. She repeated them to herself, afraid she would forget the unfamiliar words.
The crows' cawing echoed in her mind as she recalled Alys's desperation in the clearing. Her words had been downright frightening, though Ginny was finding herself more sympathetic to the desire for a bloody revenge than she would have been a couple months ago. What could have happened to Alys to bring about that level of rage?
Maybe the crows mean something too. That didn't happen in Godric's Hollow. Maybe it's a clue. Or the words she used? Why did she have to say something so bloody long? Something about shrieking and ripping-
Malfoy cleared his throat and put down his fork. Ginny looked up at him.
"Let's make a deal," he said. Ginny stared at him.
"What kind of deal?" she said once it appeared he was waiting for her to answer.
"I know you don't like me using the tattoo," he said, "and honestly, that voice makes me sound like a troll. Not very attractive. I would like to use it less."
This sounds... maybe promising.
"Oh?" she asked, making herself not sound overly interested. It would be just like him to dangle something over her head and then snatch it away once he realized how much she wanted it.
"Yes," he said. "I'm sure you've noticed the commands fall into two broad categories: situation-specific and more permanent ones. Don't harm yourself is permanent, eat your lunch is specific."
Ginny nodded expectantly, not sure where he was going with this.
He took a breath. "So, if we could come to an... understanding, I really only need to use the tattoo for permanent commands. Like don't insult the Dark Lord- probably a good one to add."
Ginny scowled at him.
"But," he pressed on, ignoring her scowl, "for things that are situation-specific, I don't necessarily have to use the tattoo."
"If I just obey you anyway."
Malfoy nodded. Ginny's scowl deepened. "Hear me out," he said. "There's no world where I can allow you to just ignore my commands. But, if you agree to my terms, I won't use them for situation-specific things, assuming you'll follow. You get one chance- if I have to repeat myself, I will have to use the tattoo. Occasionally forgetting is excusable, but if it becomes a pattern I will have to go back to the tattoo for everything."
Ginny bit her lip, considering. What was he trying to catch her in? What was in it for him? The voice comment was stupid- that couldn't be it.
"You don't have to say yes, of course," he said. "Things can continue as they went this morning."
She flinched. "Which I'm sure would suit you just fine."
His eyes flashed before he looked out the window, a casual smile on his face. "It makes no real difference to me- I get what I want either way. But I thought you might like the opportunity to be slightly less miserable. If I was mistaken, do let me know."
Ginny frowned. She knew she wouldn't be any less miserable- the outcome would be the same, in any event- but the less commands Malfoy gave, the better for her and the better for this Alys situation. The more time he had to think up things to command her to do or not do, the smaller her cage would become. What was the worst thing that could happen if she said yes? Voluntarily following his orders would make her skin crawl, but it wasn't like she was getting out of them anyway. This could be a means to an end.
"Alright," she said. Malfoy's eyes flicked back to her face. "I accept your terms."
He broke out into a genuine smile, the first one she had seen all day. So different from the arrogant smirks or mocking grins.
"Great," he said. "Then it's agreed." He stuck out his hand, and she realized with a start that he expected her to shake it.
He's treating this like a real deal then.
She shook his hand, still wary.
"Are you going to be feeling up for dinner with my parents tonight?"
"No. But do I get a choice?"
"I could tell them you're still recovering from yesterday. Which, honestly, is probably true."
Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why would you get me out of dinner with your parents?"
"It is my job to be considerate of your needs."
Ginny laughed. "I thought it was the other way around- what did you say I'm supposed to do until September? Please you?"
Malfoy shrugged. "Take it or leave it, Weasley. I'm happy to order you to have dinner with my parents. Unless you're going to blow up the dining room again, I think we've had enough of that for the time being."
"If I get a choice, I would prefer not to have dinner with your parents."
"Anything for you, darling," he winked at her. "Consider it done."
Ginny narrowed her eyes at him again, suspicious. He laughed.
"Do you really think that my main goal is to make you as miserable as possible?"
"Yes."
"Fair, I suppose," he said with a sigh. "I pushed you hard this morning."
"That's one way of putting it."
"How would you put it?"
"Tormenting me," she said, echoing Alys's words.
He shrugged. "A fair assessment."
"Is that going to continue?"
His eyes flashed again. "I'm going to continue to get what I want, if that's what you're asking. Nothing has changed other than the delivery of my commands."
Could she do a repeat of this morning where she voluntarily followed his commands, even if it was to give her more space to work on her mission? She honestly wasn't sure. But she would have to try.
She nodded at him. "Just checking."
He smirked. "Are you done eating?"
"Yes."
"Alright. I'm guessing in your grand escape attempt yesterday morning that you explored the whole manor?"
"I think so. Unless there's a basement I didn't see."
"It's magically concealed."
"Figures."
"So no tour needed," he said. "And you obviously saw the grounds already." He laughed. "Maybe tomorrow morning we'll go out to look at the roses. But right now we're going to the library. Come on."
He stood up to leave and she followed.
I didn't even think about the library, she thought. I wonder if I could find anything useful in there. Assuming, of course, I'm given enough privacy to look for anything, which based on how today is going, doesn't seem likely. But if not today, maybe soon, if I can just lull him into a false sense of security. He has an ego a mile wide- it shouldn't be that hard to convince him he's won. I just can't lose my cool. Show him what he wants to see.
The library really was massive; it took up two stories, with two spiral staircases leading on to the upper level. While the Hogwarts school library was dim and dusty, the Malfoys' library seemed to absolutely glow- the wood gleamed brightly under the warm light from a large chandelier dangling from the vaulted ceiling, complemented by the large bank of windows along one wall. There was a very slight citrus scent- something from Tilly cleaning, maybe? Comfortable couches were arranged in the middle of the room, perfect for lounging. Which was apparently exactly where Malfoy was headed.
"Sit down on the couch and wait for me," he said, already heading into a section.
Seeing that he stuck to his word about the tattoo, Ginny sat.
I wonder how the sections are organized. I'm going to have to think about what section to even look in, though. How would I even begin to narrow it down?
Familiar thoughts. A familiar problem.
Her heart clenched as she thought of Kathleen. If only she could see her, just once. Just for a moment. Just to know she was alright.
Kathleen had survived Malfoy for months. The circumstances were different, but she had still been under his control. Still unable to fight back. If Kathleen could survive that, Ginny could survive this. She had to.
"Now what's wrong?" Malfoy asked in an exasperated voice as he came around the corner, two books in hand.
She was crying, she realized. The tears had slipped out without her even noticing.
"I was thinking about Kathleen," she said. "Being in a library reminds me of her."
Step one to build trust: volunteer more information than necessary.
"Oh," Malfoy said in a troubled tone. "I didn't think about that. Makes sense though." He sat down next to her and pulled out a handkerchief. She went to take it, but he didn't let go.
"Let me," he said.
Ginny's jaw clenched, but she retracted her hand.
Slowly, so slowly, Malfoy reached out and dried her cheeks with the handkerchief.
"All better now," he whispered. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"
"No," she said, though her jaw was still tight.
"Alright, I brought you this," he said. He handed her a book about famous women Quidditch players in the twentieth century- something she would normally love to read, and had nothing to do with what she needed to research.
"Thank you," she said. Small steps. You can make requests later. Or maybe get a chance to explore on your own.
"Stand up for a second."
She did, and he reclined on the couch, leaning against the armrest.
"Okay, sit back down."
"There are other couches."
His jaw tightened. "And only one me. Imagine that. Are you testing our deal already?"
"No," Ginny said, and sat down. He pulled her between his legs, just like he had yesterday.
"Good." He waved his wand and a navy blue throw blanket floated towards them, rising up out of a basket Ginny hadn't noticed earlier. It landed comfortably on her lap. Another wave of his wand, and very soft classical music began to play from somewhere deeper in the library. One more wave, and the curtains became half-drawn, dimming the light just a bit.
It was cozy, in any other world.
"You have a thing for me sitting in your lap," Ginny observed.
He laughed. "I have a thing for having you near me. This is the most convenient way to do that. Now lean back and read your book."
Ginny leaned back hesitantly, letting her back rest against Malfoy's chest, and picked up the Quidditch book. She would read a little bit, and when Malfoy was distracted with his own book, she would take the opportunity to think through a strategy for her Alys riddle.
Malfoy picked up his book, his arms bracketing her, and she realized with some surprise that he had bewitched the book so that she was unable to read it. The letters shifted and spun as she looked at them, forming and reforming in nonsense patterns.
What is he reading that he doesn't want me to see? She shook her head. You have enough mysteries to solve. Don't lose sight of what's important.
"Alright there?" Malfoy asked drily.
"Yes," she said. Volunteer information. "Your book threw me off. I thought my eyes were going funny."
Malfoy laughed, his chest vibrating against her back. "Sorry. I like my privacy."
"I wouldn't have guessed."
"Privacy, not personal space. There's a difference."
"You know, seeing you at school, I would never have thought you were this touchy. I don't think I ever even saw you hold a girl's hand."
Stupid. Dangerous territory. You know he's sensitive about that stupid Umbridge comment-
"What can I say? I'm full of surprises," he said, not appearing to take offense. "Now stop distracting me and read your book."
Blow up averted.
She read her book for a while- it really would have been fascinating under more leisurely circumstances- and then pretended to read while she thought about Alys.
A thin place. The ritual of the two who move as one. The second sight. And maybe something to do with crows.
She debated about where to start. She could read books about Divination, to see if any of them referred to the second sight, but what excuse would she give to Malfoy for what she was reading? Divination had certainly shaped her life recently, but she somehow thought showing too much outward interest in her circumstances would tip Malfoy off that she was searching for something in specific. Or worse, he would command her to stop looking into it. She couldn't let that happen.
Let's just look at this from the very beginning, she thought as she turned the page, pretending to read. Professor Trelawney gave three prophecies that led me here- that led me to Godric's Hollow to summon the Deathly Hallows. So Divination is clearly involved. The gem is kind of like the Hallows in that it's a gift from Death- but Alys doesn't seem connected to the Hallows at all, just the gem. Which I guess makes sense- she's not a witch.
Malfoy shifted under her, momentarily drawing her out of her thoughts. He was a quick reader. He had already read almost half of his book.
When I was in Godric's Hollow, it wasn't like I was intended to get the gem. Ignotus had to ask Death for it after I was begging for help. If Voldemort hadn't been there, I likely would have gotten the Hallows and then been on my merry way. She grimaced- it was hard not to be bitter about that. So maybe Alys and Ignotus are only tangentially related. Merlin, I hope not- he's my only other chance for information.
"Tilly," Malfoy said. Tilly immediately Apparated in with a loud crack that made Ginny jump.
"Yes Master Draco!"
"Ginny and I will be taking dinner in here. Tell my parents that she's still recovering and isn't up for a formal dinner."
Tilly looked hesitant, but nodded. "Yes, Master Draco, right away." She Disapparated.
"That's not very nice, making her do your dirty work," Ginny said. Malfoy snorted.
"That's what house elves are for. Dirty work."
Arsehole.
"Are you enjoying your book?" he asked.
"Yes," she said- she had been, when she was reading it.
"You've been on the same page for a while now."
Fuck.
"I might have been daydreaming."
"Hmm."
"Are you… upset?"
"Why would I be upset?"
Because you get upset about everything.
"Because you told me to read this book."
"I don't care about that book in particular. I'm just giving you something to do."
Ginny was silent for a moment. "Is this what things will be like, then?"
"What do you mean?"
"You've made it clear that I'm to spend the rest of my life here," she said, her voice growing a bit sharp despite her best effort. "Is this what it will be like? Buying me obscenely expensive things and having tea with your charming friends and whiling away the hours reading books that don't matter?"
I'm not very good at playing along, she thought miserably. Something about him just brings out my temper.
He was tense underneath her. "Among other things, yes."
Don't lose control. Reign this back in.
She took a deep breath. "Sorry," she made herself say. "I just… I'm tired of not knowing what to expect."
Some of his tension faded away. "This is what you can expect. This, and things like it."
"And that's all?"
Malfoy stayed silent.
That's what I thought.
"I meant what I said last night," she said. "I can't handle any more surprises. I can't have another conversation like that with your friends."
The tension returned. "Sorry. I honestly thought you knew. That it was obvious."
"Why the fuck would it be obvious?"
More tension. "The Dark Lord wants our relationship to be public. Doesn't look very good if we break up, does it? Doesn't fit the narrative. I thought the whole I have you forever thing was pretty clear."
"It's not the same," she said. "Whatever this is, and… that."
"Looks to be the same in our case."
She took a deep breath. "Okay. So we get…"
"Merlin, you can't even say it."
"Married," she snapped. "We get married. When is that supposed to happen?"
Malfoy shifted. "I'm guessing around the new year, but I'm not sure."
That seems very far away and way too soon at the same time.
"A public event, I'm guessing?"
"I'm sure."
"And then what?"
"What do you mean?"
"Are there any more surprises?"
"No."
"What about children?" she asked, growing nauseous.
Malfoy said nothing.
"Draco."
"I don't know."
"Now you're the one missing the obvious. The pure bloodlines can never die? What better way to show that than to have your favorite celebrity couple announce that they're expecting, and-"
"You don't need to worry about that," Malfoy interrupted.
"How do you figure that?"
"You just don't."
"Very reassuring, thank you."
"Unless the Dark Lord specifically orders me to, I have no interest in becoming a father this early in life," he snapped. He grabbed her a little roughly, dropping his book on her lap, and pulled her further back onto his chest. "Besides, I worked too hard to get you to only have a year alone with you. I want you all to myself for a good long while."
I pushed too hard.
He pushed her book down with one hand and began running his fingers through her hair with the other.
"Yes, a year at the very minimum," he murmured. "Ideally more like five years. Five years of just us, just like this."
He laid his free arm over her waist, pinning her to him. Ginny squirmed, and his grip grew more firm.
Don't panic.
"I'm going to take such good care of you," he said, bringing his head down to whisper into her ear. "You'll want for nothing- have every imaginable luxury. The most pampered little housewife in all of Britain. All because you're so devoted to your adoring husband, because you drive him wild with want for you-"
"Draco," she breathed. "Stop."
"Why, love? I'm just telling the truth. No surprises, remember?"
He had asked a question. She had to answer honestly. "Because I can't handle it. It's too much."
"Hmm." He continued to run his fingers through her hair, giving her chills. "Do you know what the opposite of a surprise is?"
"No."
"A routine."
Oh no.
"We started off strong, but having the tailor come by threw everything off. We won't normally have company. But that's alright, we'll start over tomorrow. Library time will be part of the afternoons, unless the Dark Lord requires our presence somewhere. As for the evening… I guess we can make that up tonight. Got any ideas?"
"No."
One step forward, two steps back.
He sighed dramatically. "I guess I have to think of everything. You get a reprieve tonight, but my parents will typically expect us for dinner. And given how many doses of the Draught of Peace you needed today, I'm probably going to have to start brewing it myself. You're lucky I'm good at Potions- overdoing it can result in an irreversible sleep, Snape said."
That doesn't sound so bad, she thought before shaking her head. Stop that! You have a mission.
"What are you shaking your head about?"
"I was thinking that an irreversible sleep didn't sound so bad," she said, and his hand gripped her hair. "But then I was reminding myself that I have more to live for."
"Oh yeah? And what's that?"
"Seeing how all this plays out." True, but vague.
"Don't let me spoil the ending, darling, but here's how all this plays out: you're the poster child for pureblood rights and the Dark Lord's regime. You usher in a new era of blood purity, and all the while the wizarding world watches you fall in love with me on the public stage. We have a sickeningly sweet whirlwind romance, cheered on by our adoring fans, and then have the wedding of the century. Somewhere along the way, Potter dies, your family's rehabilitated- you can probably see them at that point, if you want to- and the Mudbloods are a forgotten stain in the history books. We live happily ever after, right here in this house, and in a few years, maybe in this very room, we hear the patter of little footfalls, looking for Mummy and Daddy-"
"I guess we'll have to see," she said, taking a deep breath.
Not if I can help it.
He loosened his grip on her hair. "Yes, I guess we will," he said, his voice growing distant.
Tilly saved her from having to say anything else by bringing dinner. Malfoy thankfully let her sit up and move out of his lap, and they ate mostly in silence.
The sun was sinking. The windows in the library faced west, so she could see it dipping below the horizon. The sky was streaked with orange and pink. Twilight.
May the gods remember you.
Alys's words echoed in her mind. What did that even mean? Alys was always saying one version of it or another, about gods remembering and forgetting.
Hmm. Mythological figures... like Death. Beedle the Bard wrote the story about the three brothers like it was a fairy tale, but it was real.
She cringed as she remembered Malfoy's words from earlier in the day. The Dark Lord called ours a fairy tale romance, after all. What's a romance without a happily ever after?
"What are you making a face about over there?"
What did I say? Magnifying glass.
"Fairy tales."
"Hmm. What about them?"
"How sickeningly sweet they are."
Malfoy laughed. "You never were the girly sort."
Maybe they're where I should start, though. Mythological figures, immortality, and riddles, always riddles… sounds like a fairy tale to me.
She looked out at the sun again. "Draco."
"What?"
"Can we go outside after dinner?"
"Why?"
Ugh.
"I've been cooped up all day," she said, giving a true answer. "I want to go outside."
He looked over at her, considering. "It's going to be a bit cold out, and Madam Harwich didn't leave you a cloak."
"You could cast a Warming Charm. Please?"
His gaze softened. So easily flattered. I just have to control my damn temper.
"Sure," he said quietly. "We can go outside. Tilly."
"Yes Master Draco!"
"Fetch Ginny's shoes from the wardrobe. We're going to go outside."
"Right away, Master Draco!"
She wasn't sure what had come over her, why she suddenly felt so strongly that she needed to be outside. But there was some part of her that wanted to stand under the same sky Alys had, to feel an inkling of the same pain. They were linked, somehow, the two of them, and Ginny wanted to feel that connection.
Tilly brought her shoes, which she slipped on gratefully. Being barefoot all the time really reinforced that she wasn't expected to go anywhere.
"What do you want to see?" he asked as he stood up.
"Everything," she said. She wanted to be outside as long as possible. He smiled.
"Alright then." He held out his hand to her.
She just looked at him for a moment. Did he want her to hold his hand?
It's fine. Don't overthink it.
She took his hand, and he laced his fingers with hers before moving to walk out of the library.
His hand was bigger than Harry's- bigger palm, and longer fingers. That was the silly, inane thought filling her mind as they made their way down to the first floor and out onto the grounds.
They strolled for a while, mostly in silence, admiring the scenery or smelling one of the dozens of varieties of roses that were apparently Lucius's pride and joy. That made Ginny laugh- imagining a Death Eater gardening- and Malfoy absolutely giddy in reaction.
He looked younger when he smiled. Like the boy she remembered.
The sun was setting- the pinks and oranges had deepened, casting the world in shades of red. The light glinted off of Malfoy's pale hair, tinging it crimson.
The blood of my enemies is everywhere found.
Ginny smiled again. There was something magical about this time of day. She couldn't name why, but she felt absolutely certain, all of a sudden, that she would be successful. She couldn't say when, or how, but she knew there would come a day where the gem's power would be hers. She just had to be patient.
Patient and flattering, she thought, her eyes on Malfoy's face. Let him think he's won. She rose up on her toes and lifted her arms to his chest, leaning forward to kiss him.
Malfoy's eyes widened in horror as he pushed her away with both hands. "What the hell are you-"
She stumbled a bit from the force of Malfoy's push. "What the fuck do you want from me?" Ginny yelled, suddenly furious. "You strip me half naked and touch me all over and threaten to rape me practically every other sentence, but a kiss is too much for you? What is wrong with you?"
Malfoy lost it. His face twisted in rage, he spun away from her and cast a nonverbal Bombarda at the nearby statues. They exploded, marble flying everywhere. Ginny covered her head. He did it again, and again, and again.
"Go to the bedroom and wait for me," he snarled, panting a bit as he finally stopped. Ginny didn't need telling twice. She ran.
What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck-
She couldn't win. She couldn't figure him out. Every single time she thought she had come up with a strategy, a way to understand him, he did something that turned that understanding completely on its head. Why was he so fucking inconsistent?
She was panting too, by the time she reached the bedroom. Malfoy's bedroom. Not the bedroom. Malfoy's bedroom.
She kicked the bed, or started to- her foot stopped right before making contact.
"FUCK!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. She yanked a pillow off of the bed and screamed into it. Why was nothing easy? Every goddamn thing had to be so damn complicated, nothing could just go smoothly, nothing.
Soon, she tired herself out. She could scream no more. Malfoy had still not returned. Cautiously, she crept to the window and looked out at the rose garden. The statues had been repaired.
She had never seen him like that before- absolutely unhinged. So different from the cold malice of this morning. What the hell had set him off?
Night fell, and Malfoy still did not return. Ginny was too angry to try reading any of the books he had on his shelves- even though now was the perfect time to look for books on fairy tales. Instead, she sat in one of the armchairs to wait.
Finally, just when Ginny was starting to wonder if she should just go to sleep and worry about this in the morning, Malfoy returned. He had unbuttoned the top couple of buttons of his robe and his hair was mussed. His face was completely without expression- eyes dead.
"I realized I broke our agreement earlier, about the commands," he said in a monotone. "Take off your shoes and go stand in front of the mirror."
Ginny balled her hands into fists- was he really not going to say anything about what happened?- but did as he said. Starting another fight didn't seem prudent, particularly when she had no idea what to expect.
Malfoy seemed in no hurry to address her. He sat on the edge of the bed and took off his shoes, one at a time, slowly unlacing them, and then removed his socks. He walked to the wardrobe, grabbed a pair of pajamas, and began removing his robe.
"Draco-"
"I didn't say you could speak."
Ginny clenched her jaw shut.
He removed his robes and, in the lamplight, she saw a network of thin, white scars that snaked across his chest and abdomen.
From the Sectumsempra Harry cast, she realized, her eyes widening a bit.
"Eyes on your reflection, Weasley."
She grimaced but looked back at herself. Her face was still a little flushed from yelling, and her hair was a little messy too. The wildness of her appearance was a stark contrast to the elegance of her robes- truly the finest thing she had ever worn, and Malfoy treated it like just another day's outfit.
Why is he making me just stand here?
He slipped his pajama shirt on- long-sleeved and tight-fitted through the arms, despite the summer weather- and pants, looked around the room for a moment, and then came to stand right behind her.
She held her breath. Their height difference was more easily apparent here. He put his hands on her shoulders.
"You do not initiate," he said, his eyes on their reflection. "Ever. I set the pace. Never do that again. Do you understand?"
This is all about control. All of it. Even giving me the "option" to not use the tattoo- he's still in control.
"Yes," she said quietly.
"Good," he said, and reached over her shoulders for the top button of her robes. She flinched.
"I thought-"
"Shh. I set the pace. You follow me."
She glared at him.
"Eyes on your reflection. Don't look away."
She watched herself scowl in the mirror. Was this supposed to humiliate her- making her stand here and watch him undress her like a doll?
Don't lose your temper again. This doesn't matter, remember?
Not knowing where he was going to stop was the worst part. How was this okay but kissing was too much? Or was it only too much because she had "initiated," to use his word? Some old-fashioned pureblood idea about gender roles, maybe? Why would it have bothered him so much?
He did call Pansy a whore... but, to be fair, she called me one first.
He had reached the end of the buttons. He paused for a second, then made eye contact with her in the mirror as he slid the robe off her shoulders, as though daring her to say something.
She didn't. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction, though she couldn't stop herself from taking the smallest little gasp as the robe fell to the ground in a big pool of emerald fabric around her ankles.
It was unfortunately getting hard to keep track, but she thought this was probably the most exposed she had been to Malfoy at this point. He had seen her bare back this morning, and the slip she had worn during her clothes fitting hadn't covered much, but he had never seen lower than her neckline or higher than her mid-thigh, at least from the front.
He took a slow, steady breath. She closed her eyes.
"Eyes open."
She opened her eyes.
He ran a finger down the side of her neck and along her shoulder, tracing the strap of her bra.
"I always wondered," he murmured. "How far down the freckles went."
His hand skittered across her chest, though it stayed above her bra line.
"Can I tell you a secret?" he asked.
"I suppose," she said drily. He smirked at her in the mirror.
"Didn't you ever wonder how I ended up with the job to bring you to the Dark Lord? How we ended up here together? It wasn't an accident."
"Because you're the perfect pureblood male, I presume," she deadpanned. He laughed, though it was cold. Nothing at all like the laugh in the garden.
"You're right about that. Going to have to hold onto that one- perfect pureblood male. But no. Do you remember when we met at Slughorn's Christmas party? I accidentally knocked your glass out of your hand."
"Yes," she breathed, suddenly nervous. She couldn't name exactly why. There was something real here.
"You looked so goddamn amazing in that dress," he said. "Almost as amazing as you do right now." His other hand came up and rubbed gently along her tattoo, making her shiver. "I had the most delicious thoughts about you in that moment- how I would follow this trail down, down, down, as far as it went-" he traced along her neck, "and not stop until I had all of you- until I was inside you."
A firmer rub against the tattoo. She gasped, and he smiled. It didn't reach his eyes.
"Potter ruined the moment, of course," he said, "but it didn't matter in the end. I reported to the Dark Lord the next day, and Trelawney gave her last prophecy. The Dark Lord happened upon this fantasy of mine while looking in my mind- he saw just how badly I wanted you, how desperate I was to make you mine, no matter the cost. And he had the perfect reward to offer me, the perfect thing to make sure I stayed motivated during those long months of work. And now here you are."
Ginny balled her hands into fists to stop herself from shaking.
"My dream come true," he murmured as he moved his hand from her chest to the back of her neck. He ran his fingers through the roots of her hair, tingling her sensitive scalp. "But I never have to wake up from this dream. Mine forever."
I'm doing this for Alys. For Alys. For Alys.
Who are you kidding? came a more cynical, more bitter voice. This is the illusion of choice. You can't pull away from him, he already made that a command. You have absolutely no ability to make any of this stop. You're not doing this FOR anything. It's happening to you.
She was shaking now.
He brought his head down, bringing his lips right up to her ear.
"Close your eyes," he whispered.
"I-"
"Shh. No talking. Just close your eyes."
She didn't. She couldn't. Her gaze was locked on the mirror. Looking away, losing track of Malfoy's hands, felt like the loss of the last tiny shred of her control.
"Would you like me to use the tattoo?"
"N-no," she stuttered. "But I can't."
"My poor darling," he murmured in her ear. "So frightened. It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you. Close your eyes."
Her eyes closed. She was in darkness. Anything could happen now and she wouldn't see it coming.
Malfoy's hands left her body. She held her breath.
Someone help me, please, please, please...
"Lift your arms."
Huh?
Hesitatingly she lifted her arms out to the side. He chuckled.
"Over your head."
Her confusion growing, she did so.
Silk slipped over her. Was this one of the nightgowns?
"You may open your eyes."
It was one of the nightgowns. It was a lovely jade green, with white flowers in a sweeping pattern along one side. A bit of white lace lined the neckline, covering the seam where thin shoulder straps joined the body of the material. It came almost to her knee- downright modest by Malfoy's standards.
She put her arms down and turned to look at Malfoy, a hesitant question in her eyes.
"Let's get ready for bed," he said, turning to walk toward the bathroom. "You can keep the bra on or off, whichever you prefer."
She did not, in fact, prefer to sleep with a bra on, but she would take any extra layer she could get.
"Ginny. Come get ready for bed," came his voice from the bathroom when she did not follow right away.
She stumbled into the bathroom on shaky legs. Malfoy was at one of the sinks, brushing his teeth. He pointed at the other sink, clearly indicating she should do the same thing.
She grabbed the toothbrush and toothpaste, wet it, and started brushing, her heart trying to come back to a more normal rhythm. Was tonight... over? Was that it?
He spat out his toothpaste and rinsed out his mouth. Soon after, she did the same.
"What are you thinking?" he asked.
"I don't understand you," she said.
"Like I said, I'm full of surprises," he said, clearly brushing her off. He took a step closer to her.
Maybe not over.
"Were you really going to kiss me outside earlier?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I thought it was what you wanted."
"And you wanted to give me what I wanted." It wasn't a question. "Look at me."
She did, and he stepped closer. He cupped her cheek with one hand.
"Then it would be silly for me not to take it, wouldn't it?" he whispered, and kissed her.
She wanted to hate it, for his very touch to repulse her, for her to feel the rot growing between them. But it was just a regular kiss. His lips were soft and warm- gentle, barely touching hers. His breath was minty from the toothpaste. He didn't push, but let it linger for a long moment before pulling away.
"Thank you," he said, as though she had given him something. "That was what I wanted."
That's not what you said just a couple of minutes ago. I don't understand you.
He dropped his hand from her face. "Are you ready for bed now?"
"I'm not sure," she said. He raised an eyebrow. "What does bed mean?" she continued.
He smirked. "Sleep. It means sleep."
"Then yes."
"Okay then. Get under the covers and face my side. I'll be there in a second."
"Okay," she said quietly, and hurried out of the bathroom. No, she didn't understand him. At all. And that was a problem. What she didn't understand, she couldn't predict. Couldn't strategize against.
She crawled under the covers and faced the bookshelves. The bed was so mercifully soft. Truly like laying on a cloud, between the mattress and the thick white comforter and the half dozen pillows. How had Malfoy ever slept a single comfortable night at Hogwarts, when he had this bed at home?
Another day done, she thought. And I know both more and less than I did yesterday. Fairy tales. I need to look at fairy tales.
Malfoy turned the light off in the bathroom and entered the bedroom, his soft footfalls echoing on the wood floor. She cringed, remembering his earlier comment about little footfalls.
Sometimes I think he says things to upset me on purpose.
He dimmed the lights in the room, leaving his bedside lamp on. It cast a dull, warm glow in that area. Was he going to read more before bed?
I didn't realize he liked to read that much.
He didn't pick up a book. He crawled into bed and faced her before scooting closer, much closer than he had last night. She held herself stiffly.
"I thought you said we were going to sleep," she said.
"We are," he agreed. He took a deep breath, maintaining eye contact with her. "But there's one thing I have to do first." He reached out to cup her face once again. "Don't move. Legilimens."
No! her mind yelled at her, at him, at the world, as he dove down, falling inside her mind. Why now? Why why why-
She pushed against him roughly, as much as she could figure out how to, but it didn't seem to deter him at all. She rapidly thought of unimportant things, hoping to fill her mind with clutter, but he didn't seem remotely interested in her recent memories. He flew past them, falling farther back into the past.
What was he looking for? What did she need to try to protect?
Finally, they landed in a memory. Her heart squeezed so tightly she thought she might die of it. They were in the orchard behind the Burrow. There Malfoy was, leaning up against a tree, watching her past self play Quidditch with Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
"Why are you doing this?" she choked out. "Leave it alone, please."
He didn't answer. She watched, helpless, as he watched Hermione fall off her broom. Harry zoomed down, ready to help her. Her past self was hovering about ten feet off the ground, while Ron kept guard over the one goal post they had set up.
"Alright there, Hermione?" he called down. Ginny let out a little sob at hearing her brother's voice. It was so vivid, so real. So much more real than if she just thought about it on her own. It was like living it over again.
Hermione nodded as she climbed aboard her broom again, and Harry said, "Alright then. Ready, Ron?"
"Harry," Ginny murmured, sure that her heart was breaking. He was right there. Right there. But she couldn't touch him.
Malfoy watched, face impassive. His arms were crossed over his chest.
Harry gave the signal, and Ginny's past self flew forward on that stupid Cleansweep Seven that she would ride to her doom only a few short months later. She caught the Quaffle from Hermione and flew right at Ron. He angled his broom to block her as she tossed the Quaffle hard to the right; he blocked it, but barely. Down below her, Harry caught it before leveling out next to her, a smile on his face.
She would never see him again. Never play Quidditch with him again. Never have him smile at her again.
He tossed the Quaffle to her past self at Ron's insistence and she zoomed away in a zig-zag pattern before flying much higher up.
The memory was attached to her. She and Malfoy rose up, leaving the others behind on the ground.
No, she thought. I want to stay with them, even if it hurts.
"The sky is lovely here," Malfoy said, something odd in his voice. She didn't care about that though- she only cared about getting back to the ground.
Her past self wasn't leaving though. She sat on her broom, looking out at the horizon, a blissful smile on her stupid face. A light breeze ruffled her hair and her smile widened- savoring the moment.
"Ginny! Mum's calling us!"
Ron's voice.
Her past self started to dive downward, but Ginny was still rising up. Malfoy was pulling her out of the memory.
No! I want to stay! I want to stay, I don't want to go-
They were back in bed.
"You can move again," he said, his voice tired even under the tattoo's distortion.
"Why would you do that?" she sobbed, her breath coming in great ragged gasps. "Why would you do that?"
"Shh, shh, shh," he murmured. "I was looking for a calming memory, remember?"
"Do I look fucking calm to you?"
He snorted. "Not at all. Tilly."
"Yes, Master Draco!"
"Go away, Tilly!" Ginny shouted.
"Um-"
"Ginny is not your mistress, Tilly," Malfoy said. "At least not for a good while yet. You don't have to listen to her."
"Oh. Um. Okay. What is it Master Draco be needing?" Tilly asked, clearly uncomfortable.
"Calming Draught, please."
"No! I don't want another fucking potion! You don't get to just poke and prod at me constantly and then shut down my reactions!"
"I think that's exactly what I get to do. Hurry up, Tilly."
"Right away, sir," Tilly said in a small voice before Disapparating. She returned almost instantly, Calming Draught in hand.
"Thanks. Give it here."
"Fuck off, M-" She couldn't call him by his last name. But damn it all to hell, he didn't deserve a first name. Tilly quickly left.
"Mm? Is that my name now?"
"It should be," she said with venom.
"You hiss just like a cat when you're mad," he observed. "I'm going to save us both some trouble now- sit up and drink this potion."
"I hate you, I hate you so much I could die from it, I-" she kept speaking as long as she could. She sat up and drank the potion.
It was much stronger than the Draught of Peace. Everything became deliciously warm and heavy, rage seeping out of her like water through a sieve.
"There we go," Malfoy whispered. "Now you can rest." He turned away for a second to turn off the light before turning back to her. "Turn over."
"No," she said, but she slurred it a bit. Malfoy smiled at her, a bit sadly this time for some reason.
"Alright," he said, surprising her. "Just go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."
She couldn't even be happy that he hadn't found anything about Alys, hadn't even seemed interested in anything about the gem. Her heart hurt too much.
Malfoy turned over on his back. "Good night," he whispered, and closed his eyes.
The prayer Alys recites is "The Morrigan's Blessing" by Freya Swan- published October 25, 2007.