Last chapter was heavy and this chapter is heavy. Next chapter will be less heavy.
CW: Cruelty
I debated about how to tag this but felt it needed a tag- Draco is absolutely awful pretty much this whole chapter. We get some insight as to why, but he is really at his worst here.
Some things to note:
-Draco will, over the course of the story, have a redemption, but it will be earned and not automatically given; his actions here are not excused
-Contrary to how things are going at the moment, this will be a HEA Drinny story (and not in fucked up Death Eater land lmao)
-Ginny is feeling trapped and hopeless at the moment, but- as a commenter compared her to a phoenix- she will get through this and have her hero's moment and heal from this (or at least be on the way to healing)
-We've got a long way to go! Not sure how long total word count will be, but we are not wrapping up anytime soon. I have the whole story plotted, just not sure how many words it will take to convey the full plot
I think that's everything! I appreciate everyone who has been following along so far, you mean a lot to me!
JUNE 6th, 1997
Draco laid in the dark, Ginny's quiet, regular breaths the only sound in the room. She sounded peaceful now.
It was a lie.
His mind was so, so full, and so empty at the same time.
Ruined. Everything was ruined.
His fault.
She hated him.
He deserved it.
He would always deserve it.
Nothing was ever going to get any better.
He had brought her here, led her along for months and months to bring her here. For her safety, of course. What an absolutely ridiculous lie.
You were trying to protect your parents too, came a small, hesitant voice inside his mind.
He snarled- actually snarled- and dug his fingernails into the still-healing cuts on his arm, breaking open the thin scabs.
Don't make excuses, he snapped.
You were scared, the voice insisted. You didn't want anyone to die.
Like this fucking cursed life is so much better.
It was his fault. His fault she was here, his fault she had fallen into Rookwood's hands, his fault that she was now apparently cursed or blessed or whatever the fuck to live forever. His fault that her body lived but her soul was slowly dying on the inside.
She hated him, and he deserved it.
He wanted her to hate him more. Wanted it to hurt so badly that he thought he was dying. Wanted to die, maybe. His body had to stay here- he still had to protect Ginny from the other Death Eaters, as best as he could- but his soul? That could die. It didn't deserve to live anymore. It should suffer.
Maybe we can get help? the voice asked, afraid now.
He dug his nails in deeper, gritting his teeth. No one could help. Snape had made that perfectly clear. What had he said? That the window had closed?
The window was closed. Ruined.
No one could help. He was alone. Would always be alone.
No happy moments with Ginny ever again, even in the midst of this nightmare. He hadn't realized how hard he had been holding onto that hope, that someway, somehow, he would find a way to… fuck, he didn't know. Be authentic with her? Commiserate with her? Let her see that they were trapped together?
It was stupid. Stupid and selfish. Did nothing for her at all. But now… there would be nothing he could do that she would trust, nothing, nothing, nothing-
He took a breath. It would always be this way. He deserved to die. His body had to stay here. But his soul? That didn't deserve to see the light of day again.
He was in the sea, floating on the surface of the water. The clouds were dark and heavy with rain on the way. His Death Eater robes flowed around him, spreading like a great black rot. He lifted his right hand out of the water and was dully surprised to see his mask materialize in his hand. Shiny and silver and terrifying.
He hated that mask. It was suffocating, claustrophobic, inhuman.
It was perfect.
He slipped the mask on, noticing how it slightly restricted his vision, and he felt his younger self recoil down at the bottom of the ocean.
That mask inflicted suffering. And Draco deserved all the suffering in the world.
He dove into the water and swam down, down, down into the darkness of the deep sea.
There was only one light down here, and it guided him. His younger self was sitting next to Ginny's chest, which was cracked open and emitting a warm, lovely glow.
He didn't deserve that. Would never have it again.
His younger self looked very young here- absolutely petrified of the mask.
Good. Suffer.
Draco the Death Eater grabbed his younger self's arm and yanked him away from the chest.
No! Draco cried out. No, please stop!
Draco the Death Eater did not listen. He pulled his struggling younger self into the dark, stopping just outside of the reach of Ginny's light.
This is where you belong, he said. You don't deserve that light.
Please. I'm afraid.
Good. Draco the Death Eater held out his hand and a thick chain appeared. Draco thrashed against him, but he was not in control here. Draco the Death Eater pinned him to the sea floor, chaining him down to the sand. Draco screamed, but he was too small. Too weak. He couldn't fight back.
Draco the Death Eater moved toward Ginny's chest, and closed it. The light dimmed.
No, please don't leave me! I'm scared of the dark.
This is what we deserve, and I'm never going to let you forget it for a single second.
Draco the Death Eater moved to swim back toward the surface.
Now watch me make her hate us even more. You will feel all of it, and suffer. Alone, helpless, in the dark.
It was what he deserved.
JUNE 6th, 1997
Ginny awoke to Malfoy standing over her at the edge of the bed.
"Good morning," he said, his tone as dead as it had been last night.
She said nothing, her hands curling into fists under the blankets.
I will find a way to tear you apart if it's the last thing I do.
"When I greet you in the morning, you will greet me back respectfully. Good morning."
"Good morning."
"Sit up."
She sat up. He picked up a potion vial from the nightstand.
"Every morning, as soon as you wake up, you will drink the Draught of Peace on your nightstand. You will drink the whole dose and will not attempt to avoid drinking it or otherwise dispose of it. If for some reason there is no Draught of Peace on your nightstand when you wake up, you will ask me for one. Do you understand?"
"Yes," she said, hands quickly reaching for the vial. As soon as you wake up.
I don't want to-
She drank the potion. Waves of gentle relaxation flowed through her. This was much less intense than the Calming Draught she had taken two nights before, but she could feel it working its way into her muscles, loosening her up. She tried to keep her shoulders tense but it was difficult.
"We'll start with that amount, and increase the dose if you need more. Get out of bed."
No hesitation on using the commands this morning, I see.
She stood up, belatedly realizing that her camisole had slipped precariously low on one side. She lifted her hand to adjust it.
"Leave it."
Malfoy's eyes were on her chest and they weren't looking away this time. No hint of a flush in his cheeks.
She glared at him and started to recoil as he reached out.
"Don't pull away from me when I go to touch you."
"Draco-"
"What happened here?" he asked, running his finger down the scar that was now visible down her cleavage.
"Rookwood," she said.
"Explain."
"He decided to try using a Muggle technique to get the gem out- surgery, I think they call it. He cut open my chest to look for it."
Malfoy looked disgusted. "I'll be reporting him to the Dark Lord for that. Using barbaric Muggle techniques like that is ridiculous."
"I'm sorry my scar offends you."
"Your body could never offend me. But the Dark Lord and I both were promised that you weren't permanently damaged. It seems Rookwood lied, and he should be punished."
Ginny said nothing. She wouldn't complain if something bad happened to Rookwood, but she was absolutely certain now that she had traded one danger for another. Wolves in sheep's clothing, the both of them.
"Go take a bath. Use the fourth tap from the left- I got a special delivery this morning, just for you. When you're done bathing, put on the bathrobe on the counter and come get me."
Stomach clenching, Ginny turned away from him, her camisole still askew, and walked into the bathroom.
The Draught of Peace was a strange feeling. Her panic was still there, but it was like it was muffled under a blanket. It couldn't quite reach her, couldn't quite get to the surface of her skin.
She stripped, making sure to put her clothes, such as they were, on the counter rather than the floor in order to ensure that they didn't disappear. She wouldn't put it past Malfoy to take them away and not give her anything other than the bathrobe to put on, given the mood he was in.
What could this special delivery be? Something magical? I hope not.
She turned on the fourth tap from the left and immediately started sobbing.
It wasn't magical. It smelled exactly like the soap she used at home.
How did he even get this? she thought as she found herself slipping into the tub. This was shockingly, shockingly cruel. She had protested the manor being her home yesterday, and so he had brought the Burrow to her instead, a horrible sense memory of what she had lost and would never have again.
She choked back tears as she washed her hair, her body shaking a bit in the water. Did he think this would make her happy, somehow?
No, she thought, remembering the tone of his voice, the way he had looked at her upon waking up. He knew this would hurt me. Yesterday really was a lie then.
She had almost fallen for it, was the awful thing. Parts of yesterday had felt... well, not good, but tolerable. Like Malfoy was a person. And he had seemed to really care about her well-being, even if he had an odd way of going about it. But that was a lie. All a pretty lie.
"Alys," she murmured, keeping her voice as quiet as she could as she ran conditioner through her hair. "Alys, please. I need your help, please please please..."
Her stomach twisted as she remembered that the one time she had been successful in contacting Alys, she had fallen asleep in order to do it. If she fell asleep in the bath immediately after waking up, Malfoy would definitely suspect something was wrong. She couldn't give him any reason to go digging for information about the gem, any more than he already had.
Which meant she had to be on her own this morning. Even if Alys was willing to talk to her after whatever the hell happened yesterday, it was the wrong time. She would have to make it through today- somehow- and try before she fell asleep. Assuming Malfoy didn't just command her to sleep immediately, like he had last night.
She tried to slowly rub soap over her face and body, draw out the bath as much as she could, but it didn't feel like it made much of a difference. Today was more dangerous than yesterday. Malfoy was angry with her, and had seemingly decided he had no reason to put up a front anymore. What did it mean that he was no longer worried about trying to charm her?
Nothing good, she thought as she tried in vain to fight against pulling the tap and standing up. She grabbed a towel and wrung out her hair, the flowery scent of her soap overpowering in her nose. It was cruel, but she couldn't let him see that he had affected her. That felt like handing him a weapon.
She stepped out of the tub and dried herself off, the softness of the towel barely even registering this time. Was she already getting used to it? It was only her second time. She couldn't get used to it. Getting used to it was like accepting it.
She finished with the towel, dropped it, and walked to the counter.
Put on the pajamas, not the robe, the pajamas, NOT the robe-
She didn't know why she bothered. Her thoughts had absolutely zero impact on the rest of her, which reached easily for the bathrobe. She slipped it on, tying it firmly around her waist, and noted with disgust that there was a large monogrammed DM on the left breast pocket.
Right above the heart. Cute.
She opened the bathroom door. Malfoy stood up from the armchair and walked in.
"I hope you enjoyed your little surprise this morning," he said. "Sit down on the stool." She sat.
He picked up the hairbrush.
Oh no.
"Draco-"
"What?" he asked in mock surprise. "You liked this yesterday. I thought this could be our thing."
"Please-"
"Please brush my hair? Why, of course, I'm glad you asked. Sit still."
Despite the cruelty of his words, he was still gentle as he brushed, which was almost worse.
"We'll do this every morning from now on," he said.
Of course you have to take this away from me.
"You scared me so badly yesterday that I spent half the night reading different healers' accounts on how to manage anxiety," he continued, something mocking in his voice. "They said that there's usually a preceding trigger, so I had to think about what that might be."
Gee, how about my entire fucking life, arsehole?
"It took me a little bit, but I put it together. Your whole attitude changed as soon as I told Mother that the manor was your home now."
Ginny clenched her jaw. Perceptive as always.
"So I thought bringing you something that reminded you of your old home might do the trick," he said, his brush strokes growing slightly quicker. "It wasn't that hard to have Tilly track it down once I showed her my memory of it- you smelled absolutely delectable when I was dancing with you, I never forgot that scent for a second."
Ginny stared straight ahead, feeling oddly detached from her reflection in the mirror. Like maybe this was happening to someone else.
"So now you smell like I remember," he continued. "It was a tough call, whether I wanted you to smell like you or smell like me, like you did after your first bath- but I suppose there's more than one way to get my smell on you."
Don't react. He's pushing. Ignore it. You don't have to engage.
He observed her stoic expression in the mirror and smirked.
"What better control of your temper you have this morning," he said. "That Draught of Peace is working wonders. Do you think we got the right dose?"
"Yes."
His smirk grew. "That's good to hear. I don't want to stress you out." He put the hairbrush down.
"The other thing I learned is that routines are good for managing anxiety, so we're starting a routine," he said, stepping away from the stool and walking to the other end of the counter. "Draught of Peace, bath with your favorite smell, brushing your hair, and now this."
He grabbed a cream, a different one- this one was in a beige container.
"You're right, that healing cream is expensive, and you shouldn't need it every day anyway," he said. "You're not going to be doing anything that should strain your muscles. But just regular lotion will do the trick. Roll up your right sleeve."
She opened her mouth as she did it but he interrupted her.
"Don't you dare ask me to stop," he said. "You will be in trouble if you do."
If you are thinking of doing something you know would get you in trouble with me, you will not do it.
"I would hate to see what trouble looks like," she said instead. He smirked.
"You would," he agreed. He walked back to her, dug his fingers into the jar, pulled out some lotion, and began rubbing it into her arm. Here again, it felt so similar and so different from yesterday. The same strong, sure fingers. Absolutely a different intent.
"If something I do feels good, don't hold back your reactions.I saw you biting your lip yesterday. I want to hear you."
Luckily this is regular lotion.
Was this really what Malfoy was like, underneath everything? She had been sure, at one point, that there was something else there. Well, maybe not sure. More like hopeful. Those little glimpses at Hogwarts, and echoes of them yesterday. They were nowhere to be found this morning. It seemed that Other Malfoy had disappeared for good.
She didn't know why that made her sad.
She should be angry. But she was just sad.
He finished with her right arm. "Put your right sleeve down and roll up your left sleeve."
She did so, revealing the hated tattoo. He grabbed more lotion and began to rub.
"Have you noticed that your freckles peek through in between the vines?"
"No."
"You haven't even really looked at the tattoo, have you?"
"No."
"Look at it now."
She did, her stomach turning. It could sense Malfoy was close, had woken up under her skin. Despite her commitment to non-reaction, she squirmed a little.
"What is it?"
"The tattoo can-" She bit her lip, hard, as she finished the sentence, making it unintelligible. This was handing him a weapon. She couldn't tell him, not if he couldn't sense it too.
He laughed loudly. "Like I told Father yesterday. Creative. When you're answering my questions, you will not do anything to prevent yourself from answering- you will speak clearly and succinctly. I'm a little baffled at how you were able to bite your lip just now, but I guess you didn't draw blood- maybe not extreme enough to count as harm. Now- what were you about to say about the tattoo?"
I can't win. Ever.
"The tattoo can sense you," she said dully. "Can sense your Dark Mark."
Malfoy's eyes darkened. "Really. In what way?"
"It's like it… wakes up. When you touch it." She was mortified. He couldn't know this- he would absolutely use it against her.
"What does it waking up feel like?" he asked, sliding his fingers down to her forearm.
Ginny closed her eyes, not wanting to see his reaction. "Like it purrs."
"It purrs? Like a cat?"
"That's what it feels like to me. Like it's satisfied." She turned her face away in shame.
He laughed again. "Weasley, you've been holding out on me." He began rubbing lotion into the tattoo, more slowly than he was doing before, taking care to exaggerate each stroke of his fingers.
The tattoo liked what he was doing. Ginny didn't. But it was Ginny who moaned anyway.
I want to die.
"Fuck," Malfoy breathed. "Remind me to thank Macnair next time I see him. It purrs." He scoffed, like it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.
He got to her wrist and turned it over. She still wasn't looking, but she didn't need to see him to know what he was looking at. He traced his finger along the initials.
"All mine," he murmured. "Forever and ever."
A small sob escaped her lips- she couldn't help it. Why couldn't they just go back to yesterday? Why was he trying so hard to be as horrible as possible?
"It's alright, darling," he said, no comfort in his voice at all. "You'll get used to it very soon. And you remember what I said yesterday- I take good care of my things."
He moved again, to stand behind her this time. Ginny opened her eyes. He pulled the left sleeve down before grabbing the top edge of the robe, along her neck.
"No, please-"
"Relax, I'm not going to look at your tits," he said, making her flush. "Though I did get a bit of a show this morning, so thank you for that. You can keep them covered for now- it's your shoulders I'm after. Expose your shoulders to me."
Ginny did so, the robe sliding halfway down each of her arms, the fabric bunched over her breasts.
As he rubbed her shoulders, thumbs digging wonderfully into places she normally carried tension, she felt sure that without the Draught of Peace she would be well on her way to a second panic attack.
Why had it happened yesterday? Was there any truth to what Rookwood had said about stress after a moment of calm? She had never really had any moments of calm with Rookwood, at least not where she was lucid. Even when he wasn't around, she was constantly braced for him to come back, and being under the classical Imperius always felt so foggy. Not like yesterday. There had been parts of yesterday afternoon that had been… nice, if she ignored the circumstances around it.
"You just tensed up. Why?"
"Remembering yesterday."
"Mm," Malfoy said noncommittally, refocusing his efforts on her shoulders. "You did almost die twice, or your body thinks you did. Thank Merlin that's over. It's the quiet life for you from now on."
The quiet life.
"And speaking of the quiet life, we were talking about routines earlier. You won't have any obligations until September, except to please me of course, so that gives us lots of time to bond. My only job is you, so I should rarely be called away from the manor, especially after yesterday. Sorry to disappoint if you were counting on long stretches of alone time."
Of course. That would be like letting me win at something.
"Alright, I need your lower back, but I know you don't want to take off that robe."
Ginny's hands tightened.
Please don't make me, please don't make me…
"So figure it out, Weasley. How can I reach while you still protect your modesty?"
He smirked at her.
"I… I need to stand up."
"Alright. You may stand."
Ginny did so after firmly sliding the sleeves of the robe back onto her shoulders. She hesitatingly undid the tie, holding onto the folds of the robe as tight as she could with one hand, while she slid one arm out of its sleeve.
This was Malfoy's robe, not hers. So at least there was a lot of fabric.
She slid her other arm out of the sleeve, Malfoy's eyes on her the entire time, and stared to shift it around until she could put her right arm through the left sleeve. She reached around to make sure it stayed closed over her hips as she moved her other arm through the opposing sleeve. She felt the warm air of the bathroom against her bare back.
There. I'm wearing it backwards.
"Very good," Malfoy cooed. "Clever girl."
She reached to tie the tie, but that would involve letting part of the fabric drop and potentially exposing herself. She bit her lip, gently this time.
"I see what you need. Here."
She flinched, sure he was going to yank it open, but he didn't. He tied the tie just over her hips, leaving her back still exposed if he folded open the fabric.
"Thank you," she said in a small voice. Maybe if she was just very nice, he would stop acting this way?
Unless, again, this is just what he's like without an ulterior motive.
Malfoy smiled at her in the mirror.
"You're welcome, darling. You know I love to take care of you."
You're lying.
"Sit back down."
She did. He pulled the robe open more over her back and just stared for a moment.
"What do you think Potter would say if he could see us now?" he asked as he reached for more lotion.
Her heart clenched painfully.
"I'm not sure what he would say, but I do know he would kill you," she said, a bit of fire coming back into her voice despite herself.
Stay small, a tiny, desperate part of her admonished. Don't give him a target, don't show him what hurts.
Malfoy smirked, grabbing her back with both hands and rubbing firmly. Possessively.
I'm sure you've figured out how possessive I am.
Another true statement from yesterday. Like I'm just another one of his robes.
"I'm sure he would try, of course," Malfoy said, sounding unconcerned. "That might leave you in a tricky spot though. Not sure what happens to that tattoo if I die, to be honest."
Ginny's eyes widened a fraction of an inch. How had she not thought about that?
"Don't worry darling, I'm not going to be doing anything dangerous. I'm perfectly safe, and so are you."
"I think you're right though," he continued after a moment. "I'm not sure Potter would even be able to speak. He might just-"
"I don't want to talk about Harry right now," she said, echoing his words from Valentine's Day.
Please, please if there's something human in you, please just stop.
Malfoy made eye contact with her in the mirror, his hands slowing. He had recognized her words.
"You're right," he said, and she held in an audible sigh of relief. "There's no sense bringing up the past anyway. You're never going to see him again."
A firm, almost painful rub against her lower back.
"I'll make sure he knows where you are before he dies though," he said, his voice completely flat. "Who you're with. What your life is like. The good and the… less good."
Her breathing was coming faster.
"Tilly."
"Yes Master Draco!"
"Bring me another Draught of Peace."
"I don't need-"
"I will decide what you need. Didn't you hear me telling Mother that yesterday?"
She didn't want another Draught of Peace, but Tilly brought one anyway, and Malfoy made her drink it.
"Wow, I can feel this working on your muscles in real time. I love magic." He moved to stand in front of her.
Me too, when it's not you using it.
She thought about not asking, but really, how much worse could things get?
"Do you know when I'll get my magic back?"
He grabbed some more lotion.
"I'm not sure," he said, keeping his tone light. "Probably depends on how good you are. And my recommendations to the Dark Lord, of course. How trustworthy I think you are. If I think you deserve it."
So never.
The panic was very far away now, like she was looking at it down a long tunnel.
He knelt down in front of her and grabbed her left leg. She let out a little gasp even though she tried to stop it.
"Relax." He began rubbing her foot.
It would be so, so easy to kick you in the face from this angle.
She didn't, of course. That would certainly count as harming.
He moved higher up and Ginny closed her eyes.
I'm not here. I'm playing Quidditch. The sun is shining and there's a light breeze, not enough to throw off my game but enough to be pleasant.
His hand moved up her calf, over her knee.
A piece of my hair has come loose from its plait and is tickling my face. I have to ignore it though- Quaffle is in possession, and my team is counting on me.
Onto the thigh. A small flinch.
Dodge the Bludgers now. Don't let them knock you off your broom- it would be a very long way to fall. You can see the goal posts from here. Keep going.
Higher up the thigh. A light intake of breath.
My team is counting on me. The Quaffle is in possession. I can't fumble this. Without me the game is lost.
He stopped. Let his hands linger for a moment, then let go.
Ginny opened her eyes. Malfoy was grabbing more lotion. Without looking at her, he knelt back down and grabbed her right foot.
This time her sigh of relief, mixed with a bit of disbelief, was audible.
Malfoy said nothing, merely focused on his task. Up the calf, over the knee, and up the thigh, maybe halfway up. Perfunctory. Almost impersonal.
Finally, he stood, and tipped her chin up with one finger. His eyes were so dark- no light in them at all. Where had it gone?
"I have you forever," he said. "There's no reason to rush things, contrary to your request to… what was it? Just get it over with?"
Her head jerked back a bit, feeling as though he had slapped her. Apparently satisfied, he dropped her chin. He looked at the counter again, where her pajamas were scrunched in a heap.
"When you get undressed, you'll put your clothes on the floor where they belong," he said, sweeping them off with one hand. They hit the ground and instantly disappeared. Ginny's jaw clenched.
"Don't be cross," he said, as though he had accidentally spilled her tea. "The tailor will be here in just a few minutes. Then you'll have a whole wardrobe to pick from." He waved his wand, and her hair instantly dried.
"Very pretty," he said. "Have you thought about what color robes you'd like?"
"No."
"Pity, I thought that would be a bit of fun for you. That's alright, I'll choose for you."
Why would I expect anything else?
"One more thing before you can get up- I learned in my reading last night about something called affirmations. Do you know what an affirmation is?"
"No."
"Some of the healers say that they're helpful for changing your mindset about a specific situation. It's a bit like a spell, you know? Words have power. We're going to add that to our routine."
Oh no.
"Look at yourself in the mirror. Keep eye contact with your reflection."
No no no-
Malfoy came to stand behind her again, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Repeat after me. Malfoy Manor is my home."
"Malfoy Manor is my home," she choked out. She could see she was shaking under Malfoy's hands.
"Again."
"Malfoy Manor is my home."
The panic was down a long tunnel. It couldn't reach her, but she could see it thrashing and writhing like a caged animal.
"One more time."
ENOUGH
"Malfoy Manor is my home."
"Good job," he praised. "We'll add more over time, but one is enough to start."
She said nothing. Did nothing, as he hadn't released his command for her to sit down. He stared at her in the mirror, apparently debating something.
"We're not eight inches apart, Weasley," he breathed.
He is never ever going to let that go.
"Who's going to get me in trouble for it?" he asked.
"No one," came her automatic answer.
"That's right," he said firmly. "No one. If I feel like being cruel, I'll tell you you aren't allowed to be more than eight inches away from me. But that would be impractical for the time being, I suppose."
If I feel like being cruel.
Finally, he removed his hands from her shoulders. "Get up."
She stood up but wobbled, her legs shaky beneath her. She grabbed the counter to steady herself.
"Careful now."
She wanted to walk out of the bathroom- hell, she wanted to run far far away from here and never look back- but she had a feeling that would make him angry. If this was how he was going to act when she wasn't fighting back, she knew she absolutely couldn't bear what he would do to snuff out her resistance.
It doesn't matter what happens to me. I have to protect the gem. Let him do what he wants. Anything to keep him out of your head.
"Brush your teeth and then join me in the bedroom," he said before walking out of the room.
Maybe she and the gem had a reciprocal relationship, she thought as she brushed her teeth. It protected her but it also needed her to protect it. If it fell into Voldemort's hands it would surely wreak havoc on the world- but there had to be a way to use it to her advantage, there had to be. Ignotus couldn't have given this to her just for her to suffer forever.
Just for the foreseeable future.
She spat out the toothpaste, washed it down the sink, rinsed the toothbrush, and walked out of the bathroom.
"Just so you know, this tailor is an old family friend," Malfoy said, adjusting his own robes in the full length mirror. "You're already forbidden from attempting to escape, but in case you were getting any bright ideas. You will not attempt to ask her for help, to communicate with anyone outside of this house on your behalf, or for anything else that you know I would disapprove of. You will not speak ill of me, my family, the Dark Lord, or your circumstances in front of her. You will do your part to ensure the appointment goes smoothly. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Good," he said. "Then let's go."
He started to walk to the door, and she didn't follow.
"Unless you'd rather just wear my bathrobe forever, of course. I won't be Transfiguring you any more clothes, seeing as you ripped mine apart last night."
She followed him. She stared at his back as he led the way, concentrating every last drop of her hatred into the image of stabbing him right between the shoulder blades.
One day. But not today.
Alys hadn't been afraid of the plague, of the malevolence that had stalked her village. She had been unflinching in her fight, willing to do whatever she could to save those around her even when it was clearly a losing battle. She had been covered in blood when she died- if that was even what happened, it wasn't clear- and Ginny would be the same. If she was going to go down, she was going to go down swinging. But not today. Today, she needed to stay alive, and keep the gem safe from the wicked men who walked the earth.
Malfoy would get bored of tormenting her. He would have to. It might take a while, but it would happen eventually. He was spoiled and fabulously wealthy- used to an unlimited supply of entertainment. Right now she was his new favorite toy, but soon she would become boring. Familiar. Old news. And when that happened, she would likely have a little more latitude to explore the gem and any advantages it might grant her.
She followed him down the stairs to the drawing room on the ground floor. Narcissa was there, sitting on the couch in lovely sky-blue robes and speaking with an older woman in plum robes who looked like a strong wind might blow her over.
The perfect hostess.
Narcissa made her angrier than Lucius did. Lucius was at least honest about what he was. He didn't pretend this was all some social inconvenience that some tea and polite conversation would fix. Narcissa was complicit and two-faced to boot. Not to be trusted.
"Thank you for greeting our guest, Mother," Malfoy said in his characteristic drawl. "Madam Harwich, a pleasure as always."
"Draco, you've grown since the last time I've seen you!" she said in a tremulous voice. He walked forward, took her outstretched hand, and kissed it. The woman chuckled like he was the most charming thing she had ever seen.
Ginny wanted to gag but found herself unable to. That apparently wouldn't help the appointment go smoothly.
"Madam Harwich, this is Ginny Weasley," he said, turning to gesture toward her. "She's been having a hard time of it and we're helping her get back on her feet."
Malfoy's eyes on her held clear meaning.
Say hello.
"Hello," Ginny said, her voice surprisingly small. Madam Harwich eyed her appraisingly, a bit of apprehension in her wrinkled face.
"Yes, I believe I understand the situation," she said to Malfoy, eyes flicking for a split second to his arm. "Hello dear."
So she's not as clueless as she looks. Hence Malfoy's commands.
"She needs a full wardrobe, Madam Harwich- you should have seen the rags her horrible family gave her, you would have fainted."
He says he wants me to be well-behaved and not have a panic attack but then he just pushes and pushes and PUSHES-
Madam Harwich laughed, a high, tinkling sound. "I'm sure, the poor thing. That's alright then, we'll set things right." She waved her wand and a raised step appeared in the middle of the room, flanked by three full-length mirrors angled together.
"She'll need underthings before you start," Malfoy said. "She truly has nothing."
I wouldn't have nothing if you hadn't thrown away my clothes.
Madam Harwich looked mildly startled but recovered quickly.
"Not a problem, not a problem at all," she said, standing up and tottering over to the step. "Come this way dear, let's get you something to change into."
Ginny cast a wary glance at Malfoy before following along. Madam Harwich waved her wand again and several chests of drawers appeared, absolutely brimming with fabric, a measuring tape, and Merlin knew what else. One more wave of her wand had the measuring tape slipping out of the drawer and coming to life around them.
"Let's see," Madam Harwich said as she rummaged around in one of the drawers. "I should have a slip in here somewhere- ah ha! Here we go." She pulled out a silky, beige piece of fabric that looked entirely too small to cover anything. "And..." More rummaging. A pair of beige knickers.
"Go ahead and pop these on, dear," she said, handing them to Ginny. She quickly slid the knickers on under the bathrobe but frowned at the slip in her hand. How was she going to put this on in the middle of the room, with everyone staring at her?
"Um-"
"Goodness, I apologize- wasn't thinking. Here," the older witch said, waving her wand once again. A heavy sheet of fabric came out of the drawers and unfolded itself in front of Ginny, shielding her from the Malfoys. "Give you a little privacy to change." She tottered away to another chest, giving Ginny the barest illusion of privacy. She could see Malfoy and his mother's silhouettes through the fabric, the morning sun streaming in through the window behind them. She turned her back to them, quickly dropped the robe, and pulled the slip over her head.
It was almost the same color as her skin, with tiny little straps like the camisole had, and a hem that hit her mid-thigh. Silky like the first version of her pajamas had been, thin like the second.
She stepped out from behind the fabric, not entirely of her own volition. Stalling needlessly wouldn't make the appointment go smoothly.
"Ah! Lovely," said Madam Harwich. "You have a lovely figure."
Malfoy leered at her.
"Thank you," she said, her tone flat.
Don't engage beyond what is necessary.
"Oh dear, what happened here?" Madam Harwich asked, gesturing toward Ginny's scar.
"She's seeing a healer for it," Malfoy said. Liar. "Awful, isn't it?"
"Just horrible. You poor, poor thing. Let's get started then, hop on up here and I'll take your measurements."
It dawned on Ginny as she stepped onto the platform that they were making it seem like her family had done this to her, not the Death Eaters.
Poor, abused Ginny Weasley.
Madam Harwich's back was turned, so she took the opportunity to fix Malfoy with the fiercest glare she could muster in the mirror. He was reclining on the sofa, a smirk on his face as he observed her.
"Well it looks like everything is settled here," Narcissa said, rising to her feet. "I have some other matters to attend to this morning, unfortunately, but I'll send our house elf Tilly by with tea and scones in just a little bit. Thank you so much, as always, Madam Harwich, for your excellent work. Please bill the Malfoy account once you're done."
"Of course, Narcissa, always a pleasure."
Narcissa looked at Ginny in the mirror, an unreadable expression on her face, before she turned and departed.
Great, now it's just me, the old lady, and the devil himself.
"Hold out your arms, dear," Madam Harwich said, her eyes looking quickly at the tattoo before looking away. Ginny did so, and the tape measure began rapidly taking every measurement she could think of, reminding her of Ollivander's.
My wand, she thought with a start. Who has my wand?
"I'm expecting she'll fill out a bit over the next couple months- you see how skinny she is- so please leave room for that," Malfoy said. Madam Harwich's eyebrows flew into her hairline.
"Define a bit, please."
Ginny felt unsteady on her feet but made herself stay upright.
He can't mean-
He chuckled that stupid supposed-to-be-charming Malfoy chuckle. "Not pregnancy, I didn't mean to imply that- sorry. No, just a healthy bit of weight gain after her ordeal."
Sure you didn't.
Madam Harwich's eyebrows went back down. "Completely understandable. I'll leave some room to be let out in the waist for any more form-fitting pieces. Now, I think that's your measurements sorted, dear. Any thoughts on color?"
"I-"
"Let's start with green," Malfoy said. "You can direct your questions to me, Madam Harwich."
"Of course," she demurred as she summoned an emerald swatch of fabric. "This looks lovely with her complexion."
"Oh I quite agree," Malfoy said. "Green is her color."
Maybe strangling would be better than a knife, she mused as Madam Harwich doddered around with something or other. She apparently wasn't expected to talk- Malfoy continued to answer Madam Harwich's every question. Colors. Fabrics. Styles. Occasions. He answered them all, though he oddly stuttered over whether or not she needed beachwear (yes, apparently, she did.)
Throwing him off the roof does have merit though. Poetic justice and all that. But he's right, I've probably lost the muscle for it.
Malfoy had a similar silhouette to Harry at first glance- they were within an inch of each other's height- but Malfoy's shoulders were broader. He looked small next to Crabbe and Goyle but Ginny knew it would take quite a bit of her strength, even on a good day, to throw him anywhere, let alone off a building.
There was the Killing Curse, of course, but that felt too impersonal. Over too quickly. She wanted to feel it happen.
"So that's daily wear, casual clothing, dress robes, and setting-specifics covered," Madam Harwich was saying, writing Malfoy's order down on a piece of parchment.
Tilly appeared with tea and scones.
"Set them here, Tilly," Malfoy said, gesturing toward the end table next to the couch. Tilly did so.
"And then we have knickers, brassieres, socks, stockings, and shoes to coordinate with them," Madam Harwich continued, oblivious to Tilly's arrival.
"Would you like some tea, Madam Harwich?" Malfoy asked.
"That would be lovely, thank you," she said, stepping away from Ginny. "No scone for me though, I'm watching my figure."
Ginny privately thought that if she watched her figure any more, the old woman would simply cease to exist. Her amusement must have shown on her face because Malfoy smiled at her in the mirror, like they were sharing a secret joke.
"What about you, Ginny?" he asked. "We didn't have breakfast, you must be hungry. Come have a scone."
She wasn't hungry, and didn't want a scone, but she got down anyway. Arguing with Malfoy in front of company felt like a sure way to make the rest of her day even worse than it was already going to be.
Malfoy moved over on the couch to make room for her. It was odd to feel more self-conscious here than she had surrounded by mirrors, but maybe it was a proximity issue. She sat down a little bit away from him, pulling on the hem of the slip to make sure it didn't ride up. Madam Harwich sat in an armchair near the couch.
"Thank you for all your hard work, Madam Harwich," Malfoy said, echoing his mother. "The Malfoys always get the best, and I know Ginny's wardrobe is in safe hands with you."
Barf.
"You flatter me, Mr. Malfoy," Madam Harwich cooed as she sipped her tea. "Your family has been a loyal customer of mine since I was an apprentice. I am honored to assist."
"How long do you think it will take to complete the work?"
"Two days, give or take, for everything to be ready."
"Perfect," Malfoy said. "So if you can leave us two days' worth of clothes, we'd greatly appreciate it."
"Of course, I'd be happy to- can't leave you to walk around naked, dear!" Madam Harwich said with a laugh. Neither Malfoy nor Ginny laughed.
"Will daily wear be sufficient, or should I prepare any dress robes?" she continued.
Malfoy considered. "Daily wear is fine. Two days' worth of daily wear, socks, shoes, underthings, and sleepwear."
"I can have that ready in a jiffy," she said, taking another sip of tea. "Please enjoy your tea and scones- I'll work on these right now and should have it prepared in about thirty minutes, give or take." She stood up, teacup in hand, and moved back toward her workstation.
"Tell Madam Harwich thank you," Malfoy muttered as he poured tea for them.
"Thank you Madam Harwich," she said.
"It's nothing, dear, nothing at all."
There was honey on the tea tray.
"Show me how much honey you like in your tea," he said, keeping his voice quiet. "I wasn't watching closely yesterday."
He wasn't using the tattoo, she noticed. Perhaps he thought that the deep pitch of the voice would be jarring to Madam Harwich. Did that mean he would refrain from using it in public?
"Ginny."
She picked up the honey jar and spooned some into her tea. Malfoy watched her like he was studying for an exam.
Being around him is like constantly being under a magnifying glass, she thought as she stirred her tea. How can I get him to ease up? I'll never be able to contact Alys like this.
"Perfect," he said. "I'll be able to make it for you next time. Now- blueberry or lemon scone?"
"I don't care."
"Pick one."
"Blueberry."
He handed her a scone.
"What do you say?"
She glared at him. "Thank you."
He smirked. "You're so welcome. Now eat up- you didn't actually eat all that much last night."
She bit into the scone. It was delicious, like everything else she had had here so far. Tilly was an excellent cook.
Luckily, Malfoy seemed content to let her eat in silence. She watched Madam Harwich work, thankful for the distraction. She was preparing an emerald green robe- Malfoy's favorite- and a navy blue one that Ginny thought she preferred. Next to them were a couple of nightgowns- Malfoy had opted for these over a shirt and pants option- and, mortifyingly, bras and knickers. In contrast to the plain pair Malfoy had Transfigured for her, these were much more feminine. Her eyes skated over them, down to the ground where a lovely pair of slip-on shoes were crafting themselves into existence. They had a bit of embroidery on them, the golden thread reminiscent of the light from the gem. She watched the needle snake in and out of the fabric in rapid succession, letting her mind be peacefully blank for the moment.
Too soon, Madam Harwich's work station fell silent.
"Alright then, I think that's everything. Please call on me again if you need anything, I'd be happy to help," she said as she waved her wand to pack up her things.
"Absolutely, thank you so much again for your exquisite work."
A pointed look at Ginny.
"Thank you, Madam Harwich. I appreciate it," Ginny managed.
"I'll have Tilly show you out, if that's alright," Malfoy said, standing up. "Ginny and I have company coming and she needs time to change."
"Oh that's quite alright, no problem at all dear," Madam Harwich said as Tilly appeared at Malfoy's summons.
Ginny frowned, trying to remember what Malfoy was talking about with "company," when it dawned on her.
Oh no. Not his stupid fucking friends.
What was the likelihood he would want some private time with the other Slytherins and would leave her alone?
You know the answer to that, she thought miserably.
"I have to say, most girls would be ecstatic over an all-expenses-paid shopping spree," Malfoy said once Madam Harwich was truly gone. "But you looked like you were heading to your execution."
Ginny said nothing, instead taking a sip of her now-cold tea.
"What were you thinking about up there?"
"Hypotheticals," she said. Malfoy smirked.
"Familiar territory for us," he said. "Of a similar nature?"
"No."
"You know, you really are a riveting conversationalist."
Ginny said nothing. Malfoy sighed.
"Fine," he said. "Keep your hypotheticals to yourself- you already know you have to report them to me if they potentially violate any of my commands."
They didn't. She knew they were impossible. They were just satisfying to think about.
"As you heard me telling Madam Harwich, we have company coming soon. Put on the black bra and knickers and the emerald robe."
Ginny stood up, again pulling on her hem, and walked over to the mannequins.
"May I please change in the bathroom?" she asked, trying a different tactic.
To her surprise, Malfoy said, "Yes, change in the powder room next door to this room and then come right back."
Be exceedingly polite, got it.
Ginny hurried out of the room, clothes in hand, before he could change his mind.
She shut the door to the powder room, put the new clothes on the counter, and gripped the edge of it, taking a deep, shuddering breath. It was getting close to noon. The day was already almost halfway over. Day two out of… an unknown but probably large number of days.
I need to decide on a strategy and stick to it. I need him to observe me less, leave me alone at least a little bit more than he is now. Long enough to try for Alys. But I also can't let him get suspicious, because he can look in my mind at any time and, if I'm not careful, find information about the gem.
It was a conundrum. She needed to learn more about the gem, unlock its power, but the more she learned and explored, the more memories there would be for Malfoy to potentially find.
She undressed without conscious effort, dropping the slip and knickers to the floor. They disappeared.
Her only experience with Legilimency had been so rapid she had almost not really been able to observe it. Malfoy had flipped through her memories so fast she hadn't been able to identify where one ended and the next began. Was it always like that? She thought probably not. How would he be able to learn anything that way?
But if that's the case why did he search that way to begin with?
She slipped the new knickers on- they fit perfectly and, despite their lacy exterior, were quite comfortable. She clasped the bra on- again, a perfect fit- before sliding the robe over her shoulders and fastening its buttons.
Slytherin green. So predictable. It would be laughable under different circumstances.
What had she learned so far? Politeness got her a response she wanted, one she thought she was unlikely to have gotten if she hadn't asked. He didn't like when she resisted him, of course. Could she actually go along with this, at least for the short term, in order to get more trust and time alone later?
But not too much, she thought as she left the powder room. Or he'll get suspicious. I can't suddenly change my entire personality.
Nor was that likely to be possible, really, when he seemed to enjoy drawing a reaction out of her. She wasn't made of stone- she couldn't just choose not to get hurt. But she could be strategic, overall, in how she engaged or didn't engage with him.
"Absolutely stunning," he said as she walked into the drawing room, and just like that, she was back on the table with Rookwood standing over her, watching the memory of the gem. Her palms were sweaty and her steps faltered.
Did he know? He didn't know about the table- or he says he didn't- but did he know about this?
Judging by the confused look on his face, he didn't. "What's wrong?"
"You reminded me of Rookwood just now," she said, making sure her voice didn't shake too much. "He said that same thing the first night I was there."
Malfoy's face grew troubled, and Ginny realized he thought Rookwood had been calling her stunning, not the gem.
"Did he ever touch you?" he demanded sharply. "In a sexual way, did he ever touch you?"
"No."
"Are you lying?"
"No- you know I can't lie to you when you ask me something, remember?"
Malfoy still looked troubled.
So jealous.
"If we see him again and he so much as looks at you the wrong way, you tell me right away, do you understand?"
"Fine."
"I'm serious."
"I know."
Malfoy rolled his shoulders, apparently making himself relax.
"Alright, let's go wait for everyone to get here," he said. "This way."
He left the room, and Ginny followed.
"Who is coming over?" she asked.
"Crabbe, Goyle, Zabini, and Nott," he said, leading her away from the stairs and down a hallway instead. "Pansy and Daphne might come by too, Nott mentioned."
Joy.
"Pansy probably won't be happy to see you, just so you're aware."
"Maybe I shouldn't go then."
"Very funny."
He led her to one of the smaller sitting rooms on the first floor.
"Take a seat," he said, gesturing at a chaise.
She did, noticing that he still wasn't using the tattoo.
To ask or not to ask. More information, or keep the peace?
It wasn't really peace anyway. She went for the information.
"I noticed you didn't use the tattoo in front of Madam Harwich," she said carefully. "Is she unaware of its power?"
Malfoy scoffed. He was fiddling around with something- a bar cart, it looked like. His back was to her.
"Of course she's unaware of its power," he said. "Though I'm sure she had an inkling of its connection to the Dark Lord. She knows how to keep her mouth shut, but no sense flaunting things in her face."
That must be unfamiliar for you.
"I see," she said. "What about your friends?"
"What about them?"
"Do they know? About me?"
His back was still to her. "Bits and pieces," he said. "They'll find out more today."
"You trust them to keep your secrets."
He barked a laugh. "I trust them to keep their own self-interest front of mind- being murdered by Death Eaters is not high on their priority list."
So maybe they're not close. Something to take note of. He learned my friend dynamics, now I need to learn his.
"Why will Pansy be upset to see me? Did you used to date at school?"
"No, but we fucked like crazy for a few months."
Charming.
He turned around and sat down- on a different couch, thankfully.
"I'm sure she was expecting a proposal by now," he continued with a shrug, "but what can I say? The Dark Lord had different ideas."
And you sound so torn up about it.
"You really are awful." It slipped out before she could stop it. He froze for a second before smirking.
"I'm well aware. Thanks for the reminder though." He reclined back on the couch, kicking up his feet. "Feel free to relax for a little bit. Read a book or something, there's some on the shelf behind you."
"No thanks."
"Be bored then." He closed his eyes, apparently done speaking to her.
Is he actually going to take a nap? I thought his friends were coming over any minute.
She sat there for a few minutes, waiting for something to happen. Malfoy's eyes remained closed, a small frown on his face. Had he fallen asleep? Was he dreaming? Or was he pretending for some reason- some kind of trick?
Part of her desperately wanted to reach for Alys. Or Ignotus. Or whoever might answer the call. Another part of her was suspicious. Was Malfoy trying to catch her in something? There was no way he was tired enough to fall asleep so early in the day.
Though he did say he was up half the night looking for ways to torment- "help"- me. Maybe he wasn't exaggerating.
She had almost convinced herself to try several minutes later when Tilly appeared.
"Master Draco's friends are here to celebrate his birthday, Master Draco!"
Malfoy's eyes opened immediately.
Not likely asleep then. What the hell was he doing?
"Great, send them in," he said, sitting back up. He turned to look at her. "If you want this to go smoothly for you, you'll be quiet and behave. Go sit in the window seat until I call for you."
This room had a bay window that looked out on the back of the grounds, with a lovely-looking cushioned alcove. She stood up and tucked herself into it, hoping against hope that she would just be allowed to sit here, a pretty wall ornament and nothing more.
Not likely. Until I call for you.
She tucked her knees into her chest and leaned against the window frame, looking out at the grounds. Well-manicured, nothing out of place, nothing at all like the chaos of the Burrow's garden, but still lovely in a cold, sterile way.
"Draco! Happy birthday."
They were here. She would pretend they weren't, until she couldn't. People from Hogwarts seeing her like this, even if they were Slytherins, was like adding insult to injury. Making a mockery of her suffering.
She could hear them chattering- Pansy and Daphne were here by the sounds of it- but if she focused enough on the outside, she lost track of what they were saying.
"-you should have seen Hagrid crying, fucking idiot-"
"-I was so worried when I didn't hear back from you Draco, honestly! Didn't you get my letters?"
"-my father says I should be able to take the Mark in a few months, once the Ministry falls. Snape will-"
She wondered how quickly she could find her way to the center of the hedge maze. Was it designed to be a challenge- intellectually stimulating- or was it more for show?
She imagined how each of her brothers would solve it. Percy, ever the logical one, would take only right turns until reaching a dead end, undo his last step, then try again. Slow and methodical. Fred and George would go opposite ways, shouting out wrong directions to each other in order to try to confuse them, and be laughing the whole time. Bill was a deductive thinker like Percy, but more adventurous- he wouldn't make a formal plan like only right turns, but he would reason his way through what he found in front of him. Ron was logical but impatient- he would probably get frustrated after a bit, and run in whatever direction his gut took him. Charlie, ever the free spirit, would-
"Are we going to address the lion in the room?"
Zabini's voice.
The conversation stopped.
"Ah yes," Malfoy said. "My favorite birthday present. Ginny, come here."
Time to face the music.
She stood up, her gaze flicking over the group but not landing on any one person. They were all staring at her.
I'll stay detached. Too much danger here.
She walked to the edge of the group.
"Don't be shy, come closer."
She rounded the edge of the couch, ignoring Goyle's shocked face as she walked right up to Malfoy, who had seated himself in an armchair.
"How are you doing that?" Nott asked. He was sitting next to Pansy, and they were looking awfully chummy.
Malfoy smirked. "I'm glad you asked. It's a brand new invention, only one of its kind in the world for the time being. Show them what Macnair gave you, love."
Don't let him make you angry. Don't rise to the bait.
She rolled up her left sleeve, and Daphne gasped.
"It's so ugly," Pansy said, disgust in her voice.
"I happen to think it's stunning," Malfoy said, causing Pansy to glare at him. "Not least because of what it can do. Show them your wrist."
Don't. React. It will end, they will go home, this isn't forever.
She held up her arm to display Malfoy's initials. The boys all burst out into a loud cackle.
"Damn, you really are the Dark Lord's favorite," Goyle said. Something flashed in Malfoy's eyes but it was gone in an instant.
"It's like I was saying on the Hogwarts Express last year," he said smoothly. "Loyal service and devotion will get you far."
"So how does it work then?" Zabini asked. "It's like the Imperius?"
"Yes and no," Malfoy said. "The commands are spoken, not mental, but that's because they have absolutely nothing to do with the mind."
"Oh?"
"Ginny's perfectly lucid. Aren't you?"
"Yes."
Their mouths were all agape.
"And she is absolutely bound to obey me. Aren't you?"
She closed her eyes. "Yes."
"Don't disappear now. Open your eyes. We're celebrating my birthday right now. You ruined my birthday dinner last night, the least you could do is be present for this."
She glared.
"My my," Zabini said. "If looks could kill."
Malfoy laughed. "I would have been dead… how long has it been now? Two days? Two and a half?"
Tilly appeared with an absolutely massive birthday cake levitating above her head.
"Tilly has made Master Draco a birthday cake to share with his friends," she said, levitating the cake toward the coffee table in the middle of the grouping of chairs. She snapped her fingers and a stack of plates and cutlery appeared next to the cake. "Let Tilly know if you be needing anything else." She Disapparated.
Malfoy waved his wand and plates and forks began floating around while a knife cut into the cake. Ginny's fingers twitched, imagining her fingers around the handle.
"My father says she's immortal," Nott said, his focus still on Ginny. The group looked at her uneasily as the cake was passed around.
"She is," Malfoy agreed. "Blessed by Death itself."
"How?" asked Crabbe.
"One of life's great mysteries, I suppose," Malfoy deadpanned. He waved his wand and the last plate shattered, making everyone jump. "Oh no. Guess we'll have to share," he said, looking at Ginny. He vanished the plate shards.
Let him be awful, it doesn't matter, let him be awful, it doesn't matter-
"Well don't just stand around," he said. "Sit down."
There was nowhere to sit down. All the seats were taken. She looked briefly back at the bay window but that couldn't be what Malfoy meant. Did he want her to sit on the floor?
"Oops, how silly of me." He grabbed her and pulled her onto his lap. She let out a shocked breath.
Of course.
No one said anything for a moment. Pansy and Nott had equally pinched expressions on their faces, Daphne looked bored, Crabbe and Goyle looked jealous, and Zabini's face was unreadable- his attention was on Malfoy rather than her.
"Well, I see you got to have your cake and eat it too," Zabini said drily. Malfoy smirked.
"Yes, and it's delicious."
"Cheers, Draco. Happy birthday," Zabini said. The others chorused quick "happy birthdays" before picking up their plates.
Malfoy adjusted his seat so that Ginny was sitting sideways across his lap.
"Do you want some cake?"
"No."
Malfoy frowned. "But it's my birthday. I want you to eat some cake."
"It was your birthday yesterday."
All eyes were on her. The first thing she had said besides yes or no.
"And it's my birthday celebration today," he said. "Do try to keep up."
"Come on Draco, you're holding out on us," Nott said. "You can't just drop that she's immortal and then try to change the subject to cake."
"I believe you were the one who dropped that she's immortal, actually. But yes. What do you want to know?"
Nott scoffed. "Everything. This is absolutely insane."
At least that's something we can agree on.
"Long story short, part of my mission at school was to make sure Ginny helped the Dark Lord obtain some particularly powerful magical objects- I'm guessing your fathers have filled you in on that, it was public news amongst the Death Eaters. And while she was at it, Death decided to sweeten the deal."
"What do you mean, Death decided to sweeten the deal?" Zabini asked.
"Exactly that. A being, colloquially known as Death, gifted the Dark Lord items of immeasurable power, and made our darling pureblood witch immortal to boot."
Lies. They were never his.
"Why her?" Pansy asked.
Malfoy took a bite of cake and swallowed before answering. "Well, the short answer is that it was foretold. A young witch, pure of blood and pure of heart, travels down a lonely, winding road at twilight. The Dark Lord decided that she would be the one to do it, and promised her to me if I completed the job."
His hand was on her waist. Ignore it.
"Then she received her gift, and that… upped the stakes a bit. I'm sure your father told you what Ginny means to the movement, Nott."
"The pure bloodlines can never die."
"Exactly." He dug his fork into the cake before looking at Ginny. "Eat what I feed you." He brought the fork to her lips and she ate the cake. Chocolate, rich and decadent. The frosting was thick, and she could feel it smear on her lips. His dead eyes locked on hers, he reached up and wiped the frosting with his thumb before sticking it in her mouth. He held her gaze in challenge before she slowly, mortifyingly, licked the frosting off.
"Merlin, Draco, that's vulgar," Daphne said.
"How do I get one of them?" Crabbe asked, greed in his voice.
Disgusting.
Malfoy took his finger away and looked at Crabbe. "Well you'd have to have the Dark Mark first. The tattoo is tied to the Mark."
"I thought you said this was the only one of its kind," Zabini said.
"For now. This is the Dark Lord's plan for all the blood traitors."
I have to stop this, I have to, I have to-
"To be whores?" Pansy asked, derision in her voice.
You can have him, believe me.
"That's rich, coming from you," Malfoy said, making Pansy gasp in outrage. "And no, she's not a whore. She's to be my wife."
Ginny's vision went fuzzy. It must have shown in her body language because Malfoy turned to look at her.
"Oh did I not say that before?" he said, mock concern in his voice. "I thought it was obvious- the Dark Lord called ours a fairy tale romance, after all. What's a romance without a happily ever after?"
She was dizzy. She grabbed the edge of the chair to steady herself.
Why did it shock her so much? The finality of it, maybe. Or maybe it was the twisting of something so beautiful into something so heinous. Malfoy making her lick frosting off his finger was one thing. Him swearing vows to her was quite another.
"You're a real arsehole, you know that?" Nott said, his hand on Pansy's back. Her face was flushed and furious. "Have your fun, but remember who's been there for you since the beginning."
"Can you honestly say that if you had met me in another reality where I was poor and nameless, you would have even looked twice in my direction?" Malfoy snapped, his eyes flying to Pansy. "Or did you set your sights on the richest, most pedigreed boy in your year, sure you could land a ring by the time you graduated?"
"Mate," Zabini said, his tone cautious. "You're being cruel."
"What was it you said earlier, love?" he said, looking at Ginny for just a second. "Oh yeah- it's the goddamn truth. Well, don't worry, we might still end up related- Ginny has a million brothers, so-"
Ginny's hand flew up toward his face and stopped half an inch away from his cheek, unable to go any further. The air grew even thicker with tension. Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her, cold malice in his eyes.
"That's not very nice," he breathed, grabbing her wrist and pulling it back down to her lap. "Don't you want Pansy for a sister-in-law? I know I was giving her a hard time just now, but she's not so bad. Maybe one day you could even be friends."
"Fat chance," Pansy said.
"No," Ginny said.
Malfoy sighed dramatically. "Your favorite word. Like a toddler. Temper tantrums and all."
This couldn't happen to her brothers. She had to do something. But what the fuck was she supposed to do?
Malfoy turned back to Pansy. "I'm sorry for calling you a whore, and I should have more clearly broken things off once I knew that I wouldn't be available for you. But don't lie to yourself about what your intentions were- you didn't care about me any more than I cared about you."
"Look on the bright side, Pans," Zabini said, stretching dramatically on the chaise. "Now you can go after Montague- much hunkier than Draco, and more charming. Settle down with a nice, proper pureblood and you can avoid all this blood traitor nonsense."
"You disagree with the Dark Lord's vision?" Malfoy asked. Crabbe and Goyle's eyes flew to Zabini, making Ginny shudder.
Like sharks drawn to chum in the water.
"Not at all," Zabini said. "Rehabilitating them is better than destroying their lines altogether. But if my only option was a Weasley brother… well let's just say I'd be in a hurry to get hitched to someone else, make myself unavailable."
The room laughed. Ginny's vision filled with black spots. She felt Malfoy tense underneath her.
"Tilly. Draught of Peace, now."
"Draught of Peace? For what?"
Malfoy wasn't listening to his friends anymore. He cupped Ginny's face in his hands, blocking her peripheral vision.
"Look at me. Stay right here with me. Nothing matters outside of this moment. You are not in danger. Nothing dangerous is happening to you. Don't push me away. Stay right here with me."
Her head was hurting. Malfoy wouldn't let her gaze drop.
"My head hurts," she murmured.
"I know, darling, Tilly will be right here with medicine- Tilly! Hurry the fuck up!"
Tilly Apparated in immediately- Ginny could tell by the sound. Malfoy pulled his hand away, snatched the vial, and tipped it into her mouth.
Relief was immediate, but it left her shaking. Malfoy pulled her closer to him, tucking her into his chest.
She was so tired of being upset. She was so tired of being forced to calm down.
"Shh, you're alright," he murmured, stroking her back.
"What the fuck was that?" Nott asked.
"Remember how I said she ruined my birthday dinner?" Malfoy said drily. "Let's just say her immortal powers don't always differentiate between physical and psychological distress. We avoided a blow up just now."
Was that what had been about to happen? How could he tell?
"A blow up?" Daphne asked.
"Yep," Malfoy said. "Golden light shooting everywhere, things flying around the room, lots of screaming- it's a whole thing."
Things flying around the room? Did that happen yesterday? I don't remember that at all.
Being inside the light had been… strange. Peaceful, but strange. It really was like she went somewhere else when it happened. Somewhere and yet nowhere at all.
"Alright, let's give Ginny a break," Malfoy said, making her cringe. "Talk about something else."
The conversation turned to plans for Daphne's birthday, which was in a few weeks. It sounded like quite a grand affair.
In another life, would Malfoy's seventeenth birthday have been like that? In comparison to Daphne, he had barely celebrated.
"Ginny's birthday is in August," Malfoy said, making her stiffen. How did he know? "Maybe we'll do something then."
Noises of noncommittal agreement came from the group before the conversation turned to the upcoming Quidditch season, something Ginny would normally be very interested in, but she couldn't bring herself to care. How could Quidditch still exist in the world after everything that had happened? After everything that was going to happen?
She's to be my wife.
Ginny has a million brothers, so-
This is the Dark Lord's plan for all the blood traitors.
So many people were in danger. She was the only one who knew. She had to stop it.
Going to be hard to stop when you're supposed to be… what did Malfoy say yesterday? Championing the cause?
She was being punished. In a thousand little ways. She had brought about the end of the world, and now would be made to finish the job, just as if she was a Death Eater.
"Just so we're clear before you go," Malfoy said, "Ginny is to remain an absolute secret for the time being- the Dark Lord will kill anyone who violates that. When the Ministry falls, she'll make her grand debut as our champion for pureblood rights, but before then, no one can know she is here. She is more important to the Dark Lord than all of our fathers combined- second maybe only to Potter. Do you understand?"
Her heart clenched. Harry.
The group chorused their agreement.
"Alright. Ginny, are you feeling well enough to stand?"
"Yes."
"Okay, then you can get up." He let go of her waist and she pushed herself off of him, making her legs not wobble- she couldn't appear any weaker in front of these people than she already did.
Daphne looked her up and down. "Your robes are lovely, Ginny."
"Brand new this morning," Malfoy said. "Custom, of course. Say thank you."
"Thank you."
Daphne looked uneasy but nodded at her.
"Well this was fun," Malfoy said in a flat tone as he ushered people toward the door. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you all again soon."
"Draco," Zabini said. He was the last one to leave the room. "Can I talk to you for a second?"
"Sure," Malfoy said. "Tilly will show you all out," he said to the others, who said their goodbyes and moved down the hall.
Zabini's eyes landed on her. "Alone."
Malfoy's jaw tensed. He looked at Zabini, at Ginny, then back to Zabini.
"Fine," he said in a tight voice. Ginny's heart skipped a beat.
Malfoy grabbed her wrist. "Look at me. Go to my room and wait for me there. Don't cause trouble. Tilly will bring you lunch. I will be there soon." Ginny nodded and he let go.
Not giving him the chance to change his mind, Ginny hurried out of the room, making herself not run.
Never thought the day would come where I would be thanking Zabini. Now is the perfect time to reach for Alys.
Look at this absolutely stunning artwork that Aerie_Skysinger made for this story! aradiaravenswood/747574092211929088/look-at-this-beautiful-art-aerie-skysinger-made?source=share