TW: panic attack in first scene; self harm briefly depicted in third scene. These themes are more pervasive throughout the whole chapter so I'm not going to automatically include a summary, but if someone would like a summary, please comment and I will be happy to provide one.
JUNE 5th, 1997
Fuck.
"Yes," Ginny said, the word coming out of her mouth automatically. I can't let him ask me any more questions! "Gross medical procedures, thrashing around while being held down on a table, lots of blood everywhere... you get the picture."
Malfoy blanched. "Rookwood held you down on a table?"
Ginny blinked. "You don't... you don't know what happened to me?"
Malfoy looked away and cleared his throat. "Not the details, no."
That made Ginny angry. She wasn't sure why, but it did. Why did he get to escape this unscathed?
"Lucky you," she said. "Well, for your information, yes, I was strapped down to a table, unable to move except my head, probably 90% of the last month."
She felt Malfoy's legs stiffen around her. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and then said, "And you still found the strength and energy to climb the roof and run laps around the grounds."
"Desperate times and all," she deadpanned.
"Hopefully getting less desperate by the minute."
"How do you figure that?"
"Escape isn't an option, as we discussed earlier, and I am trying to make it as clear as I can that I don't want to hurt you," he said, shifting a bit under her. "There's no reason to be desperate for something you can't have."
"You keep saying that. Don't want to hurt me."
He laughed a humorless laugh. "Yeah. That is true, and will be true 100% of the time. There may be times, however, where I have to run the calculus on what's worse- my hand doing the hurting, or someone else's. I'll choose mine."
"That's not cryptic or ominous at all."
He laughed again. "Nothing to worry about for the time being. Do you want to sit up now?"
"Yes."
He slid his hands under her arms and pulled her up, her body rubbing against him. He flinched.
"Okay, time for you to get up," he said abruptly, pushing her toward the other side of the bed, holding the covers down over him with his other arm.
What is he... oh.
Ginny grimaced and crawled out of his lap.
"Can I get up to go to the bathroom?" she asked.
"What?" he said, distracted. "Oh. Yes. Fine. You can get up."
Ginny did so, forcing herself not to hurry too much. She would worry about Malfoy later.
He bought it. He actually bought it.
She shut the door to the bathroom and, as soon as she was sure the door was shut, spun in a little circle, holding in a squeal. Having a success, any success at all, when the last twenty-four hours had been one catastrophic failure after another was making her giddy. She couldn't lie if Malfoy asked her a question, but if she volunteered information, that might avoid him needing to ask her any questions at all. Her secret was safe for now. Alys- whatever she was- was safe for now.
She walked into the small toilet room- she did need to pee- and sat down, her mind racing.
Why had Alys appeared again, now of all times? Ginny hadn't dreamed of her since before going into the misty place for the first time. Having the dreams at all was dangerous, but Rookwood had been single-mindedly obsessed with removing the gem- he had barely noticed Ginny's mental state at any given moment. Malfoy, on the other hand, seemed to notice everything. Ginny couldn't make a face without him reacting to it or commenting on it. She had gotten lucky this time, and had figured out a potential strategy for protecting the gem, but how long could she keep that up under Malfoy's constant watchful gaze?
Until I figure out how to use the gem's power, she thought, bouncing her legs a bit with anticipation and anxiety. I have to. Whatever I have to do, whatever I have to sacrifice, I have to keep the gem safe.
The scene she had witnessed had been startling. The villagers called it "the plague," but it looked like nothing Ginny had ever seen or heard of. It had felt... malevolent, there in the cottage. Like Alys was truly doing battle with something evil.
That poor little boy...
And he wasn't the only one affected, apparently. Someone named Edric's son had been affected too, and that wasn't this little boy... Gilbert. Had he died in a similar manner? Or did he end up surviving?
Ginny sighed. What was the point of all these visions anyway? They were just memories, echoes of a past life. What purpose did they serve? What message was Ginny supposed to be getting?
Alys's eyes on hers came to mind. This was the first time that memory-Alys had noticed or interacted with Ginny at all. Was it because they had met up in the misty place, so memory-Alys could see her now? And what did that mean about how time worked in... whatever this thing was? Alys in the misty place wasn't the same Alys in the memories, but in that moment it was like they were linked.
If Dumbledore were alive, maybe he would know, she thought, her chest growing tight. Dumbledore had always seemed to know... well, everything. Who would she even ask about this type of magic, if not for Dumbledore?
"Weasley, what the hell are you doing in there?"
Ginny jumped. "Thinking," she said automatically.
I can never get a bloody moment of peace in this place.
"Well come think out here," Malfoy said. "Wouldn't want to think you were avoiding me after we just spent a nice afternoon together."
Ginny glared at the bathroom door.
Prat.
Malfoy's motivations were a mystery to her. It was like he was constantly flipping a switch on his behavior, snarky and cruel one moment, soft and gentle the next. Which was real? Or were they both real?
Her thoughts from the Christmas party returned to her mind. What could make Malfoy so exhausted he forgets to be Malfoy?
Malfoy was forgetting to be Malfoy a lot lately, and Ginny wasn't sure it was from exhaustion.
She flushed the toilet and walked to the sink, her brow furrowed.
It was like he was holding back, she mused as she washed her hands. He could do literally whatever he wanted, and Ginny couldn't stop him. He knew that, used it in moments. But not in others.
He makes sexual threats but then practically throws me off the bed when he gets an erection. How does that make sense?
Ginny wasn't complaining, by any means, but it was... strange. Something to keep an eye on, explore maybe. Maybe there was a pattern she wasn't seeing. If she was going to be stuck here for the foreseeable future, learning more about Malfoy and his foibles seemed as good a defense strategy as any.
Better the enemy you know.
Her mind made up, she nodded firmly to herself and exited the bathroom. Malfoy was sitting in one of the two armchairs by the window.
"Were you avoiding me just now?" he asked, his voice a bit sharp.
"No," she said, surprising even herself.
I suppose I wasn't really avoiding him so much as thinking about him...
He narrowed his eyes at her, trying to decide if she was somehow lying, when Tilly Apparated into the room.
"Tilly is sorry for disturbing Master Draco," she said, pulling on her ear and reminding Ginny of Dobby. He had been the Malfoys' house elf too, she remembered. Could they be related?
"Out with it, Tilly."
"Master Lucius has instructed Tilly to tell Master Draco that he and Miss Ginny are expected for dinner in twenty minutes, sir," she said in a sheepish voice, looking away. Draco scowled.
"Fine," he said in a tight voice. "Get out."
Tilly Disapparated.
"That was mean, it wasn't her fault," Ginny said.
"I didn't ask for your opinion."
She narrowed her eyes. "Maybe you're the one who needed a nap."
That made him crack a smile. "Maybe so."
She looked down at her much-smaller pajamas. "I can't go to dinner like this."
Malfoy let out a long-suffering sigh. "No, I suppose you can't. Hold on."
He stood up and walked to his wardrobe, rifling through his robes. "I'm not going to have any robes left, at this rate."
"Is that where these came from? One of your things?"
"Obviously. I don't have women's knickers just lying around."
Ginny felt her cheeks heat at the thought of him Transfiguring knickers for her to wear. Somehow, in all the chaos of the last day, she hadn't thought about it until now.
"You said a tailor is coming tomorrow?"
"Yes, thank Merlin. Otherwise I'm going to have to start walking around naked."
"Oh please, you Transfigured one thing for me. I'm sure you have a million robes."
He looked over his shoulder at her and smirked.
Another quick mood change. Maybe Draco Malfoy was more like his namesake than she had thought- mercurial like a dragon.
"A million minus one, now, and I'm sure you've figured out how possessive I am."
Like assuming I'm avoiding you just by going to the bathroom.
She made a noncommittal noise as he pulled out a plain black robe, waved his wand over it, and she watched it shrink.
"You can keep your pajamas on underneath this," he said.
"What about shoes?"
He frowned. "Hmm." He looked around the bottom of the wardrobe before pulling out a pair of shoes.
"These fit me a few years ago," he said, "so maybe if I just-" He waved his wand and they shrunk.
"Socks?"
"So demanding," he said as he grabbed a pair of socks from one of the drawers and shrunk them. "Anything else, your majesty?"
"Unless you're planning to let me go free, then no."
"No chance of that."
"Figured." Ginny held out her hands and he handed her the items. She slipped the robes on over her shoulders and moved to sit on the edge of the bed to slide the socks and shoes on.
She froze when Malfoy pulled off his shirt, his back to her. She quickly looked away as his pants followed.
"Can't you change in the bathroom?"
"This is my house," he said irritably. "I'll change where I damn well please."
Ginny glared at him. And back to snarky.
He sighed as he slipped his robes on. "Sorry. I wasn't planning on bringing you to dinner tonight."
"Why?"
"Maybe because you threw yourself off the roof this morning? You're in a fragile mental state."
"I'm not fragile-"
"Stressed. Overwhelmed. Whatever word you want to use. I was trying to give you a-"
"Break?"
His hand stuttered on the buttons of his robe. "Yes."
Ginny said nothing, merely looked down to lace up her shoes. They were distinctly mannish despite their small size, but she supposed they would be covered by the robes.
Silly of me to even think about things like that. Who cares if my shoes are ugly?
"I..." Malfoy said. Ginny looked up from her shoes. He was looking away, a light pink tinge on his cheeks.
"You...?"
"I would like to brush your hair."
"Oh," she said. "Um. Are you asking me or telling me?"
"Both, I guess."
"Oh," she said again.
Am I allowed to say no? She observed him for a moment, noting his pink cheeks, the way he looked away from her.
If you have some power, I suggest you use it. Alys's voice echoed in her mind.
"Okay," she said. Malfoy turned to look at her.
"Okay?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Oh," he said, clearly surprised. "Go sit in the bathroom then."
She got up and walked toward the bathroom, taking a deep breath.
This is a dangerous game.
It had only been twenty-four hours, but she was fairly certain at this point that Malfoy wasn't going to force himself on her. Probably. Maybe. But maybe if she gave him small concessions, that would keep her protected- keep him satisfied. She just had to make sure he didn't get the wrong idea. Small concessions, manageable concessions. Hair brushing was a manageable concession.
She sat down on the stool Malfoy had conjured earlier that day and looked at herself in the mirror. Her face wasn't blotchy anymore and she looked more well-rested- her nap, despite being interrupted by a nightmare, had done her good.
Hopefully that isn't about to all be undone with this dinner. She had no idea what to expect from Lucius or Narcissa.
Malfoy walked into the bathroom and made eye contact with her in the mirror before quickly looking away and grabbing the hairbrush. He waved his wand at the stool and its legs lengthened, making it so he didn't have to bend down to reach her.
"Tell me if I'm too rough," he said as he picked up a lock of hair. "I've never done this before."
He was, in fact, incredibly gentle- he made soft, delicate strokes with the brush that sent shivers down her spine.
"That's...that's good," she said.
She thought she heard him suck in a breath.
"Good," he said quietly.
He brushed her hair in silence for a few minutes. Ginny closed her eyes, letting herself enjoy this small pleasure.
"Did you know I liked this?" she asked, already suspecting the answer.
"Yes."
"From Kathleen."
"Yes."
"One of the inconsequential things you learned."
"I suppose."
"She's truly alright? You promise?"
"Yes, I promise."
Another pause. How much do I push?
"Is anyone looking for me?"
His brushing slowed but didn't stop.
"They were," he said carefully. "The Ministry. But they've exhausted their leads. The Order is still looking, I'm sure, but they don't have any more information than the Ministry does."
His brushing became fractionally rougher.
"And," he continued, "it doesn't matter anyway. Even if an army of Aurors broke in here, my commands wouldn't allow you to leave the grounds."
She opened her eyes. "You've truly thought of everything," she deadpanned.
He made eye contact with her in the mirror. "I have to think of everything. Otherwise you would suffer more."
She held back what she wanted to say - I don't think it's possible for me to suffer more. It felt like a jinx, somehow. Tempting fate.
In any event, the spell of the moment was broken. Malfoy put down the brush.
"All done now," he said, his voice clipped.
"Thank you."
He blinked. "You're welcome."
Baby steps, I suppose.
"Well, let's go face the music," she said, standing up.
"Wait." He grabbed her shoulders and spun her to face him. "Ground rules. You will be polite and respectful to my parents. You will not speak to them unless you're spoken to at dinner tonight. You will not try to embarrass me or undermine me at dinner tonight. You will not speak ill of the Dark Lord tonight."
Ginny glared at him.
"Trust me, it's better this way," he said before dropping her shoulders. "Follow me."
Compelled, she followed him out of the bathroom, through the bedroom, and down the hallway to the stairs. The sun must be setting, though the windows were facing the wrong way to see it. The grounds were cast in a lovely orange hue that made Ginny horribly nostalgic for the orchard behind the Burrow and summer evenings spent playing Quidditch.
I have to see the Burrow again. I have to. I have to.
She noticed Malfoy's posture change as they continued down the stairs- his shoulders pushed back, head held higher than he naturally did.
Too soon, they reached the dining room.
"Be good," he murmured right before they walked in.
Lucius was seated at the head of the long table, Narcissa to his right.
Such a formal space for such a small dinner.
"Ah, the birthday boy finally deigns to grace us with his presence," Lucius said, raising his wine glass in a mocking toast.
"I'm sorry, Father," Malfoy said, his voice stiff and formal. "I was otherwise occupied this afternoon."
"All afternoon?" Lucius asked, raising an eyebrow in Ginny's direction. "Well, you only turn seventeen once, I suppose."
Ginny flushed. Gross.
Narcissa cleared her throat. "Let's not embarrass our guest, please."
"Is that what you call her?"
"That's what I'm choosing to call her, yes. Please, Draco darling, come sit down."
Ginny fought not to roll her eyes. Draco darling.
"Sit next to me," he said as he walked to sit across from his mother, next to his father. Ginny followed suit, her stomach twisted in an anxious knot.
Narcissa smiled warmly at her. "Welcome to our home, Miss Weasley."
"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy."
Lucius raised an eyebrow once again. "Training is going well, I see."
Ginny scowled. Training?
"Better than it was this morning, anyway," Malfoy said with a smirk. "We won't be throwing ourselves off any more roofs, will we?"
"No." She gripped the armrests of the dining chair tightly. Maybe I'll throw you off a roof though, if I can find a way around your stupid commands. Any goodwill Malfoy had generated this afternoon was rapidly dissipating as his more familiar face made an appearance.
"You should apologize for scaring my mother half to death, by the way. You completely ruined her teatime."
Merlin forbid.
Ginny said nothing. Malfoy's jaw tightened.
"Apologize to my mother," he said.
"I'm sorry for scaring you, Mrs. Malfoy."
Narcissa laughed uncomfortably. "That's alright. It can get dull here- you certainly livened up the morning."
Happy to entertain.
"Enough of that now though," she continued. "Tilly! We're ready for dinner."
Tilly appeared. "Right away, Mistress!" She snapped her fingers and their plates filled with food- fish with a delicious-smelling sauce and roasted potatoes and an assortment of vegetables that made Ginny's mouth water.
Real food.
Lucius stood and poured wine in both Malfoy's and Ginny's glasses before sitting back down again. He raised his glass.
"Today my son has become a man," he said. "Draco, you have been the pride and joy of our lives- from the moment you were born, I knew that you were destined for greatness, destined to bring glory to the Malfoy name. You started down that path a year ago, following in my footsteps, and you have surpassed all my expectations. Your work to advance the Dark Lord's cause has been instrumental to our movement, and will continue to be so." He gave a pointed look at Ginny, which made her stomach tighten. "May you rise to even greater heights in the coming year."
"We love you so much, darling," Narcissa said, raising her glass as well. "Happy birthday."
Both of them looked at Ginny.
I'm expected to make a fucking toast?
Apparently so, as she felt her arm raising up, glass in hand. "Cheers," she managed, making Malfoy smirk again.
"Thank you, Father, Mother," he said. "I am honored to be your son." They all drank. The wine was bitter on her tongue, and felt a bit sour in her stomach even with only one sip. Hopefully she could get away with not drinking any more- she had been inebriated once around Malfoy and that was enough for a lifetime.
Malfoy turned to look at her. "Are you feeling well enough to eat?"
"Yes."
"Then eat until you're full."
She picked up her fork and immediately took a bite of potatoes. Delicious. Damn it. Let me hate this place in peace.
"So roofs are off the proverbial table," Lucius said. "Planning any more creative escape attempts?"
"No, sir," Ginny said after swallowing. "I'm forbidden to do so."
Malfoy choked on his wine.
"A wise decision on my son's part," Lucius said. "What else are you forbidden to do?"
Trying to be polite to Lucius and trying to eat until she was full were warring impulses within her. Malfoy noticed immediately.
"You can eat at a normal pace," he said. "Answer my father's question."
She put her fork down. "I'm forbidden from harming myself or any of you. I'm forbidden from trying to escape, or allowing myself to be rescued. I'm forbidden from having any contact with my family or the Order. I'm forbidden from being rude to either of you. I'm forbidden from calling Draco by his last name. I'm forbidden from telling him a lie."
Not 100% true, but I wasn't commanded to be truthful here either.
"Very thorough," Lucius said approvingly, taking a bite of his own food. "What's next, Draco?"
Malfoy looked uncomfortable.
"I have a tailor coming tomorrow," he said. "She needs clothes. As for the rest of it, I'm planning to take my time. She's creative, as you've seen. It will be better to offer corrections in real time rather than try to guess what she'll think of."
Ginny bristled. Offer corrections? Like I'm a fucking show pony. And the rest of what?
"You're quite right," Lucius said. "Far be it from me to understand the mind of a Gryffindor."
You couldn't understand a Gryffindor if you spent your whole life trying.
"Vincent and Gregory were disappointed they didn't get to see you today, Draco," his mother said, taking a bite of fish. "Your father's right, you do only turn seventeen once. You should celebrate with your friends."
"I'll invite them over tomorrow," Malfoy said. "Blaise and Theo too."
Joy.
"Make sure they understand the nature of your current position," Lucius admonished. "They can't go blabbing about the girl, not before she makes her grand debut."
What the fuck does that mean?
"They won't, Father. I'll make sure of it." Malfoy wiped his mouth. "As I was telling Ginny earlier though, she needs my express permission and me as an escort in order to leave the grounds. In the unlikely event someone managed to break in, she wouldn't be leaving anyway."
"Be that as it may, I don't want any more blasted raids on this house," Lucius said. "Our lives have been disrupted enough."
Ginny felt her eyebrows fly up toward her hairline, and she focused on looking down at her plate in order to not appear rude. Their lives had been disrupted?
"Please let us know if there's anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable, Miss Weasley," Narcissa said.
Ginny opened her mouth- to say what, she wasn't sure- but Malfoy spoke for her.
"I will tend to her needs, Mother," he said. "She is perfectly fine. And it isn't a stay- she isn't a guest."
Yes, yes, I'm a prisoner, I get it.
"This is her home now," he continued. Ginny dropped her fork; it made a loud clatter against her plate.
Home. Images of the Burrow flashed in her mind, of crowded family dinners full of rowdy conversation and plenty of laughter. So different from this cold, stilted affair. She closed her eyes, momentarily overwhelmed.
I have to go home. I can't stay here. I have to go home.
"All the more reason to make her comfortable," Narcissa said delicately, clearly unwilling to acknowledge Ginny's... what had Malfoy called it? Fragile mental state?
"What comfort do you think she's lacking, exactly?"
"Draco don't be so defensive," Lucius said. "Your mother's just making conversation."
"All she needs is time," Malfoy said. "Rookwood's treatment of her was barbaric. I don't think she was eating enough- you can see her collarbones. In a couple of months-"
"I don't," she blurted. The Malfoys stopped moving their forks.
"What?" Malfoy asked. She turned to look at him, holding back tears.
"I don't," she repeated, making herself keep her voice steady. "Need time. There is no amount of time that would-"
He held her gaze, the grey of his eyes dull and muted.
"Careful, little lion," he breathed. "Or I'll take you at your word. If you don't need time then I should expect you to be perfectly behaved. I'm lenient with you right now because-"
"Lenient? Is that what you call it?"
Lucius' eyes were on his son.
Malfoy reached out and grabbed her face with one hand, tilting her chin up. She wanted to pull back, wanted to slap him, wanted to run away. But she couldn't. Her body wouldn't move.
We've apparently crossed the line to embarrassing and undermining.
"Yes," he said quietly. "Lenient is what I call it. You don't want to see the alternative, I assure you." She held still, her gaze furious. Malfoy stroked her cheek with his thumb and she shuddered, closing her eyes.
"Good," he whispered. "Now. Are you done eating?"
"Yes," she bit out. If she tried to eat any more she was sure she would throw up.
"Then sit quietly while we finish dinner." He let go of her face and turned back to his plate as though nothing had happened. She took a shaky breath and looked down at her plate, unable to stand being here mentally any longer. She heard the clink of forks once again.
How can he be so absolutely horrible to me and then act like he cares after the fact?
She changed her mind. She wouldn't play his stupid games. No more concessions, no matter how small. Any peace or security she momentarily felt this afternoon was a deception. Malfoy was rotten- he was apparently just good at hiding it. He was Death Eater Malfoy, after all.
She could hear the family around her talking about something, but her blood was pounding in her ears. She felt almost dizzy, like maybe she would pass out.
I can't stay here. But I can't get out. I can't get out. I can never get out.
Her heart was beating so fast. She could feel a thin sheet of sweat developing all over her body. Her vision was unfocused, like maybe she wasn't really at the dining table after all. She was here and not here, irreparably stuck and floating away like mist at the same time.
I can never get out, never never never never-
"Ginny." Malfoy's voice. "Ginny. Ginny. Look at me."
Uncontrolled by her, her eyes moved to his face. He looked fuzzy around the edges. Concern was written all over his face.
What a pretty lie.
"Come on, stand up. You're alright, you're alright."
What was he saying? What was he talking about?
Nothing's ever going to be alright again. Nothing, nothing, never-
His hands trying to pull her to her feet sent her over the edge.
She bent over, tucking in on herself, and screamed. Golden light erupted from her body in a great arc.
There was nothing else. Only this. She could see the ball of light around her, little shocks of lightning arcing over its surface. It was almost like time had stopped for her. She was vaguely aware of motion and sound happening outside her sphere, but that was outside. It wasn't in here. Here was all that mattered. Here was safe. Nothing could get in, nothing, no one...
"Ginny!"
Someone was calling for her. Who was it? Couldn't they see she was safe in here? It wasn't safe outside. They should go away.
"Ginny stop."
Her arm hurt. It was unpleasant, like something was trapped inside it that wanted to get out. Kind of gross, really. Why would there be anything in her arm?
"Ginny go to sleep right now."
Ginny's eyes fluttered closed, the light faltering before subsiding completely, and she knew no more.
JUNE 5th, 1997
"-most unusual response, never happened during any of the testing-"
"Is she going to be alright?"
"Let's run some diagnostics to be sure."
That voice was familiar. Ginny's brow furrowed. Who was talking?
"-any injuries?"
"No, it just pushed me out of the way. I couldn't get close."
That was Malfoy's voice. But the other voice. That was-
Ginny gasped awake and immediately went to sit up. Malfoy's hand was on her chest in an instant, guiding her back down onto a sofa.
"Shh, shh, shh," he said, squatting next to her. "Don't get up."
Her eyes hurt, like she had been staring at the sun. She blinked a few times. "What happened?"
Malfoy's jaw tightened. "We aren't sure. We're figuring that out."
We?
"Blood pressure spiked but has returned to normal..."
Ginny's eyes widened. Rookwood.
"No no no," she whimpered, pulling back into the seat. They were taking her back.
"Hey," Malfoy said, moving his hand to her shoulder. "You're alright. Nothing bad is happening. Stay right here with me."
"I want to go home," she said in a small voice.
"You are home."
She covered her face with her hands. "No, no, no."
"Shh, shh. You're alright. I'm staying right here next to you, see? Stay here with me."
"I think I know what happened, Mr. Malfoy," Rookwood said. Malfoy's body was blocking her line of sight- she couldn't see him through her fingers.
"And what is that?" Malfoy asked, his voice sharp.
"She had a panic attack."
"A panic attack?" Malfoy scoffed, looking over his shoulder. "And this is the first time this has happened? Surely not, with what she's been through."
"All signs in the diagnostics point to psychological distress as the cause," Rookwood continued. "If it was severe enough, the physiological symptoms can apparently be enough to trigger the gem's response." She could hear the frown in his voice and knew, somehow, that he was annoyed he hadn't figured that out during his "testing."
"Why now?" Malfoy said, voicing her same thought. It was true that Malfoy had been making her upset, but did that really compare to weeks of torture?
"As opposed to before? I'm not certain. It's possible that her body registered this distress differently if it was after a moment of calm."
"So keep her stressed out all the time, got it," Malfoy said sarcastically. "Very effective for what the Dark Lord is requiring."
Ginny's stomach twisted. What did that mean? What did Malfoy know that he hadn't told her?
"Or don't let her get that stressed again," Rookwood said coolly.
"Given the circumstances, that's going to be-"
"What answer would you like me to give you, Mr. Malfoy? If she gets so distressed that her body interprets that distress as a sign of dying, the gem will activate, whether or not she's actually dying, it seems. I don't know why this is the first time it's happened, but case in point, it can happen. Think of it a bit like a magical temper tantrum. Perhaps try a daily dose of the Draught of Peace until she's more acclimated."
All she needs is time.
"Fine. We'll try that, I guess. I need to report this to the Dark Lord."
"I can-" Rookwood started.
"I'll go, Draco," Lucius said from farther in the corner. "You're needed here to... maintain the situation. Your command was the only thing that ended it."
He commanded me to go to sleep. That's right. It's all coming back to me now.
"Thank you, Father." Malfoy stood up. "So. Draught of Peace. Anything else?"
"Worried, are we?"
"I don't want it to happen again. What if we had been in public?"
When would we be in public?
"You're a Legilimens, aren't you? A good one, from what I hear."
"Yes."
"You might go looking for some calming memories, and have those ready to go should she need some... assistance, again. Not tonight, but perhaps tomorrow."
Ginny's eyes widened. No. He can't go looking in my head again- what if he finds Alys?
"Alright. Thank you for getting here so quickly."
"Of course, Mr. Malfoy. I live to serve the Dark Lord, and, contrary to what some may say, his interests are my own."
"Come, Rookwood," Lucius said. "I'll show you out."
She heard their footsteps walking away. They were in the drawing room, she could see now.
"Is Miss Ginny going to be okay?" she heard Tilly ask.
"Yes, she's going to be fine," Malfoy said before sliding his arms under her and picking her up, just as he had this morning. "We just need to be gentle with her. We can do that, right Tilly?"
"Of course, Master Draco! The most gentle."
Ginny frowned but she was too tired to argue. Her eyes still hurt.
"My eyes hurt," she said as he started walking away.
"I would be surprised if they didn't hurt," he said. "Considering the amount of light they were emitting just a little bit ago."
"The light was coming out of my eyes?"
"It was coming out of your everywhere."
That didn't normally happen, she was pretty sure. Except for... the first time. When she had first received the gem.
Against her better judgment, she tucked her face into his chest and he tightened his grip on her, curving her toward him.
"If you're trying to scare me to death, Weasley, you're doing a damn good job of it," he murmured as they started up the stairs.
"I'm tired," she said quietly.
"I know you are. You can go to sleep in just a few minutes."
"Can I have my own room?"
He scoffed. "No. I have to keep watch over you, in case... in case it happens again."
Her disappointment was heavy in her body. She was exhausted, again. How many more upheavals could she go through?
At least one, apparently. She needed to find out what Malfoy was hiding from her.
He opened the door to his room.
"Draco."
"Yes."
"What did your father mean about my grand debut?"
Malfoy stiffened. "I don't think we should talk about that right now."
"Please. I can't take any more surprises. If you know something, just tell me."
She could sense him debating with himself. He set her down on the bed and closed the door to his room before sitting down next to her.
"If you start feeling weird, tell me right away," he demanded sharply. "I never want to see you like that again."
There he goes again, pretending to care.
"Alright."
He took a deep breath and clasped his hands together, leaning his elbows on his knees. He wouldn't look at her.
"The Dark Lord expects the Ministry to be within his grasp within the next couple of months, and Hogwarts with it," he said. "He isn't waging a direct assault- it's all internal, taking over from the inside. He thinks it will be easier to sway public opinion if people don't really understand what's happening, until it's too late, that is."
"Sway public opinion?"
"On the way things will change."
"Which is?"
He took a deep breath. "Mudbloods having wands will be illegal, for one thing. They won't be allowed to attend Hogwarts, and any that can be identified will go to Azkaban."
Ginny put a hand over her mouth.
"That part doesn't concern you though. As you heard him say, blood traitors won't be killed- their bloodlines are too important to waste. But you can imagine that that little tattoo of yours won't exactly be something people are going to want to voluntarily sign up for."
She looked down at her tattoo. It was so shockingly dark against her skin, like the complete absence of light against the ink.
"The Dark Lord has already explained to his followers about the symbolism of the immortal pureblood witch," he continued, an interesting hint of... something... creeping into his voice. "But you won't just be a symbol for the Death Eaters. You'll be a symbol for the wizarding world."
Ginny's legs felt shaky, but she forced herself to stay calm. She had to hear this, all of this.
"Come September or so, the story of you and these last few months will come out," he said with a cruel smile that didn't reach his eyes at all. "How the poor, abused Ginny Weasley ran away from her blood traitor family, escaping the tyranny of Albus Dumbledore's radical Order of the Phoenix, and how she found safety among her true equals, the Malfoys."
He barked a sharp laugh that echoed horribly in the quietness of the room.
"We protected you, re-educated you, and encouraged you to go to the Ministry," he continued, "and they were surprisingly sympathetic. So sympathetic, in fact, that they agreed to consider blood traitor ideology child abuse, punishable by either temporary or permanent loss of custody of a family's children."
"No!"
"Oh yes," he said, flexing his hands. "You're all about this, of course. Spearheading the movement. Giving speeches, interviews, the whole package. All with the Malfoy family at your side, naturally."
"I won't."
"Is that really what you think? After everything, that you'll just get to say no? There is no option here. Families can voluntarily submit for rehabilitation in order to get a chance at getting their children back, or else they can be mandated into it. I'm sure you can guess that remaining free won't be an option."
She had to stop this somehow. But how?
By not freaking out, for one thing.
She took a deep, slow breath. "Okay. Okay."
"That's what you have to say? Okay?"
"What am I supposed to say?" she snapped. "It's abhorrent. I would rather kill myself. But that's not an option either, now is it?"
"No, it's not."
"Is that it?" she asked, her voice strained. "No more surprises?"
Malfoy shifted uncomfortably.
"Oh for fuck's sake," she said, putting her face in her hands. "What else?"
"I don't..."
"Draco. What. Else."
"You're going to be a public figure, right? Championing the pureblood cause, saving children everywhere, blah blah. The model pureblood witch. Your image matters. And," he paused. Flexed his hands. Flexed them again. "And, the Dark Lord thinks that part of that image is choosing the right romantic partner. The sort of thing Witch Weekly would run with, you know."
"And let me take a wild fucking guess as to who that's supposed to be."
He stiffened beside her.
"That's what this has all been about, then," she said, her jaw tight. "Makes sense."
"What do you mean?"
"You. You acting like you care anything about me, you wanting these moments of...of intimacy, of trying to make me trust you. Hard for me to fawn all over you in public if I hate your guts, right?"
Malfoy looked like she had slapped him.
"If that's what you want to believe-" he started.
"What I want to believe?" she said, her tone dripping venom. "It's the goddamn truth, probably the first true thing you've told me since I got here. Except for the rape threats, I guess those were true too."
She was breathing hard. He stood up, not looking at her.
"Guess you're too smart for me, Weasley," he said in a dead voice. "You've got it all figured out. You're getting too worked up though. Stand up, take off your robe and shoes, get into bed, and then fall asleep until morning."
"I hate you," she said as she stood up. "You absolutely vile-"
"Don't speak anymore tonight."
Ginny's eyes blurred with furious tears as she pulled the robe off, purposely ripping it- now the spoiled prat had a million minus two- before yanking off her shoes and throwing them at the wall.
"Temper tantrum, indeed," Malfoy said drily. His back was still turned to her. "Good night, Weasley. We'll start again tomorrow."
JUNE 5th, 1997
An entire day's careful, careful work. Ruined. Irreparably ruined.
Draco watched Ginny sleep, her face angry even in unconsciousness. He had tried so, so hard today to give her little cues even through his Death Eater persona that... fuck, he didn't even know. He didn't want to hurt her, but would if he had to? He felt bad about it? That he didn't like what was going on any more than she did?
Snape's cruel words echoed in his head as he stormed into the bathroom.
Oh you're not? You're not asking me to teach you some way to hide memories in Ginny's mind so that you can alleviate your own guilty conscience? Because what does doing that do for her, Mr. Malfoy? Absolutely nothing. No, her circumstances remain the same, but you get to feel better about your role in them.
He couldn't even be excited that he now had an official reason for poking around in Ginny's mind. She hated him. More than he had ever thought possible. She hated him, and there would be no turning it around. She would never trust any moment of peace between them again- she would always think he had a hidden agenda, that he was trying to manipulate her into being what the Dark Lord wanted her to be.
Brushing her hair had been so, so nice. Holding her as she slept had been so, so nice. He would never get to do those things again, not in the same way- she would never trust it again.
What had she said before? This is my punishment?
He slipped off his robes, letting them fall to the floor, before waving his wand and summoning his Aunt Bellatrix's birthday gift she had given to him a few days ago- a small, sharp knife with the Dark Mark as its handle.
He looked at his bare chest, the Sectumsempra scars riddled across his torso, and the great ugly blackness on his left forearm. It wasn't enough. Ginny shouldn't have to suffer alone.
"My punishment now, Weasley," he whispered, and sliced the knife into his right arm.