Drinny FF

Chapter 30

Malfoy manner. It was the only option. With my father still in Azkaban, imprisoned for his part in the war, he wasn't here to stop them. My mother, on the other hand… my mother had been different. She had seen what Ginny meant to me and had quietly supported us. She would understand.

By the time me and Ginny reached Malfoy Manor, night had fallen, and the once-grand estate felt cold and empty in the dim light. Mother was waiting for us at the entrance, her pale face drawn with worry. When she saw Ginny clinging to my arm, her expression softened.

Narcissa: Come inside.

She gently spoke, her voice full of understanding. My mother ushered us into the manor, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder.

Narcissa: You did the right thing, bringing her here.

I nodded, my throat tight.

Draco: Her family—

I couldn't finish the sentence. The sight of Ginny being rejected by her own parents had been unbearable.

My mother her eyes flickered with something close to sadness, but she kept her voice steady.

Narcissa: She's safe here. Both of you are.

Ginny sank into the nearest chair, her face pale and drained of emotion. I knelt in front of her, taking her hands in mine.

Draco: You're going to be okay.

I whispered, though the words felt hollow even as I said them.

Ginny nodded weakly, but there was no strength in her eyes. She was lost in a sea of grief, and I wasn't sure how to pull her out of it. But I knew one thing for certain—I wasn't going to leave her. No matter what happened next, I would stay by her side.

Mother, standing quietly nearby, gave me a nod of approval, her expression resolute. She was fully behind us, and that small comfort was enough to keep me grounded.

The air outside Malfoy Manor was cool and still, but the tension hung heavy between the high stone walls. Ginny sat on an old wooden bench just beyond the entrance, her face pale and hollow as she stared into the distance, a spliff trembling between her fingers. The tip flared briefly as she took a drag, her hand shaking as she flicked the ash into the crystal ashtray beside her. Her eyes were vacant, as if the world around her no longer registered.

My mother stood just inside the doorway, her pale hands clasped tightly in front of her. She watched the girl—watched the way her fingers trembled, the way her body slumped like she carried the weight of the war still on her shoulders. Her heart clenched, and for a moment, she made to move toward Ginny, to offer some kind of comfort.

But I stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm.

Draco: Mother, she won't respond.

I spoke softly, my voice tight with frustration and sorrow. I glanced back toward Ginny, my face etched with concern.

Draco: Trust me, I've tried everything. Nothing.

Mother followed my gaze, her expression softening as she took in the sight of Ginny—motionless, her eyes far away, lost in her own thoughts.

Narcissa: Poor girl.

Mum murmured under her breath. She had seen grief before, had witnessed the aftermath of battle and loss, but the way Ginny sat there, so still and broken, tugged at something deep within her.

I let out a long, tired sigh.

Draco: I'm going to take her things up to my room.

I picked up Ginny's bag from the floor. I moved with purpose, though there was a heaviness to my steps, the weight of everything we'd been through pressing down on me.

Narcissa's brow furrowed as she placed a hand on my arm.

Narcissa: Draco, do you think maybe she wants to be alone right now?

I paused, glancing at Ginny, my face filled with worry.

Draco: No.

I spoke quietly, shaking my head.

Draco: I have a feeling it won't be long 'till she breaks down. And when that happens… she can't be alone.

My mother looked at me, her eyes filled with a quiet understanding. She nodded, letting me go. My heart ached as I walked past, heading toward the stairs with Ginny's bag slung over my shoulder. I knew my mother was right in a way—Ginny had been trying to shut everything out, pushing away even the tiniest semblance of connection. But I also knew that grief like this had a way of crashing over you when you least expected it. And when it did, Ginny would need someone to catch her.

Mother lingered in the doorway, her gaze drifting back to the fragile figure on the bench. Ginny hadn't moved, hadn't even flinched when I had spoken. She looked utterly lost, trapped in a world of her own making.

My mother's chest tightened as she watched Ginny take another slow drag from the joint, her hand still trembling slightly.

Narcissa: Oh, Ginny.

Mother whispered to herself. The girl had been through so much—too much for someone so young. She had lost her brother, her family had turned their backs on her, and now, she was adrift, clinging to me as her only anchor in a world that felt like it was slipping away.

There was a sound of footsteps from inside the manor, and Narcissa turned to see me returning. I stopped at the doorway, my eyes immediately going to Ginny. She hadn't moved.

I stepped forward, my face grim.

Draco: I don't know how to reach her, Mother.

I spoke quietly, running a hand through my dishevelled hair.

Draco: I don't know what to do.

Mother placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently.

Narcissa: You're doing all you can, Draco. She'll come around. But grief… it's something that has to be faced in its own time.

I nodded, though I couldn't quite hide the worry gnawing at me. I glanced at Ginny again, watching as she slowly exhaled, the cigarette smoke curling up into the night air.

Draco: I just hope I'm enough for her when it does happen.

I whispered, more to myself than to my mother.

Mum looked at me, her expression filled with both pride and sadness.

Narcissa: You already are, Draco. You already are.

I turned back toward Ginny, knowing that the storm inside her was far from over, but I would be there when it hit—I wouldn't leave her to face it alone.