JUNE 10th, 1997
Ginny's vision was full of spots.
"She's a Muggle," she said, and desperately, horribly willed herself to stop speaking, but she couldn't. "I dream about her sometimes. She's from the past, I think- a few hundred years ago. She had the gem before me. I've talked to her a couple of times in some kind of... in-between place. She was going to help me unlock the gem's true power, but I had to complete an assignment first. Go to a thin place, complete the ritual of the two who move as one, and gain the second sight."
She dully realized she was in shock. Her whole body felt fuzzy, like maybe she wasn't really real. Malfoy's face above her was ashen.
"What do you mean unlock the gem's true power? What is the gem's true power?"
"She wouldn't tell me," she whispered. "Only that it was terrible in its might, terrible in what it could do. So terrible it could only be used once."
"And what were you going to do with this power?"
"Destroy You-Know-Who."
Malfoy put his face in his hands. "How do you speak to Alys?"
"I just focus on her and ask for her help. Eventually I fall asleep, and she shows up. But she doesn't answer most of the time- she doesn't really want to help me, I've had to beg her for answers. She told me not to come back until I had gained the second sight."
"And have you gained the second sight?"
"No," she said and took a gasping breath. She never would now.
"How do you do it?"
"I don't know. I was trying to find that out, but I haven't found anything."
"How were you trying to find that out?"
"Reading in the library about anything that seemed like it could be relevant."
"About Morgana?"
"Yes. There were crows in the sky when Alys received the gem."
"And Morgana is a crow Animagus."
It wasn't a question. She didn't say anything.
"Fuck," Malfoy said through his hands. "Does anyone else know about this? The Dark Lord, or Rookwood, or anyone else who's looked in your mind?"
"No," she said. "I don't think so- they never saw her and they never said anything. Please don't tell them, Draco, please, I'll do anything, anything-"
"Be quiet."
She was filled with such a frenzied, desperate energy that she sat up, her head spinning. This couldn't be the end. It couldn't. If Voldemort found out about this power, the whole world was doomed, more than it already was. And it would be completely her fault.
"Draco, please," she said, grabbing his hands and pulling them away from his face. "Anything, forever, forever, please. Whatever you want, I'll give you anything, please don't tell them-"
"Be quiet," he snapped, pulling his hands out of her grasp. "I don't know what gave you any other impression, but I am a loyal servant of the Dark Lord above all else. Stay in bed until I come back. Don't try to do anything related to the gem or Alys."
He stood up abruptly and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Ginny felt frozen in place. Her whole body was shaking. It was over. Malfoy was probably on his way to Voldemort right now. She was going back to Rookwood, or worse. They would find some way to use the gem, with or without her, and make her responsible for countless deaths and suffering. There was no way Malfoy would protect her family now; she had betrayed him, embarrassed him, and he was washing his hands of her. Everything was ruined. It was her fault.
She threw up over the side of the bed, sobbing, before lying down again. Her fight was over. Ginny stared at the ceiling and waited to die at last.
JUNE 10th, 1997
Draco half-walked, half-ran down the hall, going... somewhere. Fuck. Where was he going to go?
Of all the things he had worried Ginny would tell him, her having a magical weapon inside her and communicating with some kind of Muggle ghost or whatever the fuck in an alternate dimension didn't make the top hundred. Top thousand. Top million.
What the hell am I going to do?
He loosened his collar, his breaths coming too quickly. He couldn't have a panic attack now; he had to hold it together for Ginny. But if there was ever a reason to panic...
He couldn't hide things in Ginny's mind, not yet. But he had to, he had to. The Dark Lord couldn't find these memories of Alys. Draco didn't know why he had missed them the first time, or however many times he had looked in Ginny's head, but he knew with certainty that the next time the Dark Lord saw her, he would look in her thoughts, and would find this conversation between her and Draco if nothing else. If Draco didn't report this to the Dark Lord immediately, he would absolutely lose his life, and Ginny would be left to the mercy of the likes of Rookwood. But if he did report it... Ginny would be taken away, made into a weapon or killed at last to obtain it, and then Draco might as well be dead too.
There has to be a way out, there has to, there has to...
Snape's sneering face rose in his mind. Would he help him? Could he take that risk?
No. Snape had already turned him away once, and he wouldn't stick his neck out for Draco- he had made that perfectly clear. Besides, there was no time. Draco had to do something right now. The longer he waited, the more at risk they all were- if the Dark Lord learned of this at any point, he wouldn't forgive delays.
There was someone else who might help. It was risky, so risky, but Draco was out of options. He hurried down the steps, taking them two at a time, all the way down to the first floor.
Despite any snide comments he might make, Lucius Malfoy had been ecstatic that Ginny had been gifted to Draco out of all others. From his point of view, she was the key to the Malfoys' power and prestige in the Dark Lord's inner circle. Their family had been placing themselves adjacent to publicly powerful figures for the last thousand years. Lucius wouldn't want to lose her, not when being tied to her made his son practically royalty in the Dark Lord's court. His father would never defy the Dark Lord, but he was a Malfoy first and foremost.
Malfoys first, Malfoys first, Malfoys first-
He skidded to a stop in front of his father's study and banged on the door without ceasing until Lucius opened it.
"What the devil are you-"
"We have a problem," Draco said, out of breath. "I need to speak to you- now."
Lucius opened the door wider, allowing Draco to enter. Most of the lights were off- only a small one illuminated his desk, casting the room into sinister shadows.
Draco spun around and magically locked the door before casting an Imperturbable Charm, his heart racing.
"Draco, what's wrong?" Lucius asked, alarmed.
Draco started pacing and, without taking a breath, rapid-fire explained Ginny's painting, the loophole she had identified regarding telling the truth, and everything that had happened since.
Lucius sat down at his desk while Draco was talking, and when Draco finally finished, Lucius was pinching the bridge of his nose.
"We'll lose her if we tell the Dark Lord, and we'll lose her and our own lives if we don't," Draco said urgently. "You said yourself that she's the key to our family's power now- we can't lose her. Malfoys first, just like you've always taught me. I need to hide these memories, but I can't figure out how. I need your help. Please, Father, I'll do whatever you ask of me- I'll marry her tonight if that's what it takes, but we can't lose her, we can't-"
"Enough," Lucius said, and Draco stopped speaking at once, his chest heaving from exertion. "Sit down."
Draco bit his lip in frustration but did as he was told, sitting across the desk from his father. It was the very same place he had sat when his father had suggested he use the Imperius Curse to lead Ginny down this path in the first place.
"I don't need to impress upon you that this is incredibly dangerous," Lucius said. Draco nodded. Lucius sighed. "You said no one else knows about this?"
"That's what she said. I know the Dark Lord and Rookwood have both looked in her mind."
"Rookwood is a terrible Legilimens, but the Dark Lord is another story," Lucius said. "I don't know how he would not have observed this in her mind, but he never would have let her leave his immediate reach if he thought she could be used as a weapon."
Draco said nothing, afraid that so much as breathing the wrong way would ruin any chance he had. Lucius regarded him for a moment, tapping a quill against his desk.
"You said you can't figure out how to hide these memories," Lucius said after a moment. "Does that mean you tried?"
"Not these memories in particular, no," Draco said. "I told her I was loyal to the Dark Lord and to stay put until I came back for her. But… I've tried to find a way to hide other memories, and I can't figure out how. I've done it with other people, but not her."
Lucius raised an eyebrow. "And why, pray tell, are you trying to do that?"
Draco flushed. "I don't want her to hate me. Any more than she already does. I wanted to have… time alone. Truly alone, where no one else could see."
"How sentimental of you."
Draco's flush deepened, but he said nothing.
Lucius sighed again and leaned back in his seat. "She can't be allowed to continue this- contacting this other being or her paltry attempts at research."
"Of course not- I will command her to stop."
Does that mean-? He hardly dared to hope.
"You're sure this is what you want to do?" Lucius asked. "You're tying her fate rather closely with ours."
"Absolutely. I'm already tied to her." Draco raised his left arm. "I want what was promised to me."
"And I would like to give it to you, if it's possible. I need to inspect the girl's mind- see why these memories haven't already been discovered, by you or anyone else. Then we'll see what's possible and what's not. If the worst case comes to pass, I think it's forgivable that you came to me first, and then we contact the Dark Lord together. You'll need to maintain that that's our goal until I tell you otherwise, do you understand?"
"Yes, Father," Draco said, a great wave of hesitant relief flooding through him. His father was going to help. If there was anything to be done, any way Ginny could be saved, they would find it. Together.
Malfoys first.
"Let's go then," Lucius said and rose to his feet. Draco hurriedly followed suit.
"Thank you, Father."
"Don't thank me yet- I might be making you do something you very much don't want to do. We have to see."
Draco said nothing, merely followed his father out of the study. They would make it work, they had to, they had to…
They ascended the stairs, Draco's heart in his throat as they reached his room.
Please work.
He opened the door and discovered Ginny lying catatonic on his bed, eyes trained on the ceiling. She had thrown up at one point; the realization made his chest twist in anguish as he vanished the mess.
She didn't acknowledge them as they entered the room and spelled the door. She didn't appear to be particularly aware of them or anything at all.
Draco the Death Eater has to be in charge here.
"Sit up," he said.
Ginny sat up.
"I told my father what you told me, but we need more information," he said. "He's going to look in your mind."
Ginny didn't react, not even a flinch.
"Do not resist my father's Legilimency- do not attempt to hide anything or deceive him."
Lucius sat down on the bed across from her. A small flinch here.
At least she's still in there somewhere. Hang on, Ginny, I'm trying to help you.
"I believe you're familiar with what this feels like," Lucius said. He cupped her face with one hand. "Legilimens."
It was agonizingly uncomfortable to be on the outside, watching them. Ginny maintained eye contact with Lucius, but her eyes were glassy- distant. She was devastated. His father's mouth was held in a tight line. He was searching.
"Truly magic from another world," he said after what felt like an eternity. He let Ginny's chin drop. "Any memories of this Alys are inaccessible to me- it's like they don't exist. Just like the gem itself, apparently. They only exist when they need to. I see memories from your conversation tonight, but that's it. If those were gone, I would have no idea that Alys existed at all."
Draco held his breath. That sounded promising. Very promising.
Lucius looked at his son. "How have you been trying to do this, the other times you've done it?"
"I've told you before that my methods are very visual," Draco said. "For her, it's the clear blue sky- nothing else. It's connected to a memory from last year, a happy memory. So I've been observing that and other, similar memories, trying to find a way to alter the terrain."
Lucius tilted his head, considering. "I know something that will work. You're not going to like it, but it will get the job done. We're very fortunate that it's only one memory- if it was all of these Alys memories as well, we would have no options."
"But it'll work?" Draco asked, hardly daring to breathe.
"Yes. I can teach you." He turned his attention to Ginny. "You should be very grateful that my son loves you very much. He's saving your life, at great risk to himself and our family. But you're tied to us now- our fates are linked. You'll learn this in time, but our family has two mottos. The more formal one happens to track very well with your soon-to-be public image- Sanctimonia Vincet Semper, or purity always conquers, in English. It's on our house seal, all our official records, the manor gates… everything. The second one isn't written down anywhere, but it's no less important; in fact, it might be more important. Malfoys first. And my son has decided, like it or not, that you are to be a Malfoy. That will be what saves you. Draco, give your command."
Draco's face was flushed from his father's words. "Look at me," he said. Ginny did, though her eyes were dead. One problem at a time- he would have to worry about that later. "You will never attempt to contact Alys again. You will not attempt to research anything connected to the gem or do anything with any power it may have beyond it sparing your life. If Alys contacts you, you will ignore it. You will not look into what Alys asked you to look into, about the second sight or anything else she said. You will not speak of this to anyone except for me and my father, and only in private. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Very thorough," Lucius said approvingly. "Now. We're only masking one memory, and it's particularly emotionally charged. We can't hide it away, but we can link it to another memory with a similar emotional state. If someone were to come across it on a passing glance, they wouldn't be able to distinguish the two. Does that make sense?"
"I think so," Draco said.
"Here. I'll find something to link it to, and then you can look after- see if you can see anything. Once again- Legilimens."
Ginny's breathing was quicker here. Draco's palms were sweaty. Why did this have to happen?
"Ah," Lucius said as tears filled Ginny's eyes. "This will do. We were looking for something that held terror, disappointment, and despair. The night Nagini attacked her father in the Department of Mysteries should work nicely. Unlikely to be inspected, but exactly the right mix of emotions."
"Nagini attacked her father?"
"Yes, when we were attempting to get the prophecy. Before Potter's daring rescue mission. Now, I'm just going to shift these closer together-"
Ginny gasped and Draco darted forward involuntarily.
"Relax, girl, this is old pain," Lucius said. "And it's done. Take a look, Draco, and tell me what you see."
Lucius stood up to make room for Draco to sit across from Ginny. She was crying, but the familiar spark of anger wasn't there.
Terror. Disappointment. Despair.
"Legilimens," Draco whispered, cupping her face in both hands.
He dropped down into her mind, into the sky, and looked around. At first, he didn't see anything. Her mind looked like it always did.
"Show me your memory of your father getting attacked by Nagini," he said. A memory appeared of her and her brothers along with Potter congregated in Dumbledore's office. He didn't watch the memory in detail- he didn't need to. He was observing its structure, not its contents.
He squinted and reached out with one hand, feeling the edges of the image. His eyes widened.
There.
Woven right underneath it, wrapped up in its pain, was all of tonight, from the point he had taken her to the library to now. If he hadn't known to go looking for it, he never would have seen it.
"Will she still remember tonight?" he asked out loud.
"Yes," his father said, sounding far away. "But prying eyes won't be able to see."
"This is perfect," he said out loud. "I'm so sorry," he said in her mind. "I have to keep you safe."
He gently pulled out of her mind, coming back to awareness in his room.
"You got very lucky," Lucius said. "This cannot happen again. This method will not work for what you were talking about earlier- it only worked tonight because it was a singular highly-charged event. Regular conversations don't have enough intensity to mask this way."
"I understand. It won't happen again."
"See that it doesn't. Now, I have to go break the news to your mother- she needs to be aware of these things. I suggest a sleeping potion for Ginny. Good night, Draco."
"Good night, Father. Thank you- really."
Lucius nodded at him before leaving the room, though he stopped when he opened the door.
"Oh, and Draco? If your next idea was going to be to teach her Occlumency, I would advise against it. She would need to master it overnight for it to be undetectable- you had the benefit of learning for months and months at school. Occlumency lessons would be very difficult to explain to the Dark Lord, don't you think?"
His stomach clenched. He had known that already but it still hurt to hear.
"Yes, I understand."
"You got what you were promised. Learn to live with it."
He shut the door, and Draco put his head in his hands.
"Ginny, say something."
She didn't speak. A horrible thought seized him- could she still speak?
"Say something."
"My fight is truly over now."
He looked over at her, his hands dropping. Her eyes were still unfocused.
"It wasn't before," she continued, "but it is now."
"I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to do. I have to keep you safe."
"Why?" she asked. "Because you love me? That's what your father said."
He couldn't breathe. She looked at him, finally. She looked like she had aged ten years, with how weary her expression was.
"If you loved me you would help me. You would fight back. But you won't. You're going to keep me here, and the world outside is going to be destroyed, and I'll be taking a bubble bath while it happens. I will live every day knowing that I could have made a difference, if only I had done a better job hiding it from you. But I couldn't- living with you is like living under a magnifying glass. You notice everything, always. So congratulations- you win. I made it to day six. My fight is over."
Draco's ears were ringing. He felt fuzzy all over. He couldn't quite form a coherent thought.
"I would like to go to sleep now, but I have been commanded to sit up."
"You may move freely."
She moved over on the bed, to her side, and laid down, not bothering to get under the covers.
"Good night," she said.
"Wait. Tilly."
Crack.
"Yes Master Draco!"
"Bring me a sleeping potion."
"Right away sir," she said, casting a nervous glance in Ginny's direction before Disapparating. In mere moments, she was back, sleeping potion in hand.
"You can give it to me, Tilly," Ginny said without sitting up.
Draco nodded at Tilly, who looked uncertain but handed it to Ginny.
"Thank you," Ginny said. She sat up just enough to drink the potion, downed it slowly, put the vial on the nightstand, and laid down again. In an instant, her eyes fluttered closed- asleep.
"Is Miss Ginny going to be okay?" Tilly asked.
"I'm not sure," Draco said in a strained voice. "Maybe eventually. But not tonight."
"Can Tilly help?"
"I wish, Tilly." And like he was still a child, he started crying, and Tilly comforted him.
JUNE 11th, 1997
Ginny didn't dream of Alys. She dreamed of her parents, and her brothers, and her cousins, and her great Auntie Muriel, and even Fleur Delacour- Bill's fiancée.
They were having a party in the back garden. A great tent had been erected to block out the summer sun, with streamers joining it to the Burrow proper, and people were talking and laughing inside. Drinks were pouring freely, and there was a side table absolutely overflowing with food that Mum had made. A large chocolate cake was the crowning centerpiece, its toppers slightly off-center.
This must be Bill and Fleur's wedding, she thought. They were supposed to get married at the end of the summer.
She could see now that it was a wedding. Fleur was dressed all in white and spinning around with Bill on the dance floor; he looked spectacularly dashing in his dress robes, every bit the rugged hero. The music was very upbeat, something that everyone could clap along to if they didn't want to dance.
She turned and saw Ron dancing with Hermione, an absolutely lovestruck expression on his face. Had he plucked up the courage to ask her out finally? Ginny had been going to encourage him, but maybe he hadn't needed her help after all.
There was Percy with Penelope Clearwater. That was surprising. He had made up with the family enough to be invited to the wedding and actually attend it, apparently. Further back were the twins, dancing with Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet. Charlie was dancing with someone she didn't recognize, but she somehow knew in her gut that they worked together- Charlie was serious enough about her that he had brought her to meet the family.
She turned again, and the floor seemed to fall out from beneath her feet. Harry was there, dancing with someone. Her face was blurry- Ginny couldn't make out the details. She was taller than Ginny and wearing a royal blue dress. Harry was laughing and smiling with her, his eyes bright. He spun her around before pulling her closer, at which point he leaned down and-
The dream shattered. Ginny was sitting in pretty lacy underthings on the stool in Malfoy's bathroom. Her skin was very pale, like maybe she hadn't seen the sun in a while, which made the blackness of the tattoo all the more jarring. She was holding perfectly still, like she was waiting for something.
Malfoy walked in from beyond her viewpoint and came to stand behind her. He put his hands on her shoulders, smirking at their reflection. Ginny felt like maybe she should be afraid, but she wasn't. This was normal.
"Who do you belong to?" he asked.
"You," she said.
"For how long?"
"Forever."
"Who protects you?"
"You."
"Who loves you?"
"You."
"Who do you love?"
"You."
She was a ghost.
Ginny woke up and immediately reached for the double dose of the Draught of Peace. She drank it down to the last drop and put the vial back on the nightstand. Malfoy was lying in bed next to her, but he was awake. Staring at the ceiling, like she had been last night.
"Good morning," she said, beating him to the punch.
"Good morning," he said.
She got out of bed- she was still in her robes from yesterday. She had halfway thought that Malfoy would have changed her clothes or Transfigured them after she fell asleep, but she was glad he hadn't.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"To take a bath," she said. "That's first on the list after the potion."
He didn't say anything, so she left him behind and walked into the bathroom.
She looked at herself in the mirror, equal parts relieved and confused to see that she was not nearly as pale as she had been in her dream. It had felt so real.
Did she want it to be real? Maybe. If it was real, it was telling the future, and if it was telling the future, her family was safe and happy all together. They had moved on without her, as if she had died, and they were happy, their mourning over. That would be the best case scenario, really. They looked for all the world like they had never even heard the name Voldemort before, in the dream. The war hadn't touched them.
Part of her knew it couldn't be real. Her own circumstances notwithstanding, her family was a major part of the Order; the war would certainly touch them by the end of the summer, if it hadn't already. But it was nice to wish, to dream, that they could be happy.
She stripped out of her clothes, dropping them to the ground where they disappeared, before walking to the tub and turning on the fourth tap from the left. The familiar flowery scent filled the air as the tub filled up, and Ginny let herself smell it, really smell it. It was a good scent. It meant home.
Malfoy Manor is my home. Her own voice echoed in her mind. The very first affirmation Malfoy had ever made her say. It still didn't feel true, but she was sure it was only a matter of time. Today was day seven, but in some ways it was like day one. Day one without options. Day one without any hope of getting out or making a difference. Day one of eternity.
She stepped into the tub, the warm water soothing to her tense muscles. The light had taken a lot out of her yesterday. The healing cream would be nice in a little bit.
She washed her hair, enjoying the citrus scent and ruminating on how she had begged Malfoy for the wrong thing. Or not enough things. She had begged him not to reveal her secret about Alys to Voldemort or the other Death Eaters, and he hadn't- Lucius didn't really count, considering how the evening had played out. He had given her what she had asked for. But she hadn't begged him to leave the whole thing alone, hadn't even thought that far when he had left to go get Lucius. And he had made it so that it was her who had to leave the whole thing alone, not him.
The second-worst outcome. Voldemort didn't know about the gem's power, and it appeared the Malfoys were aligned with her in keeping it that way, but they had made it so that she might as well not have the power in the first place. No research, no contact with Alys, nothing. She would be consigned to having occasional strange dreams about a Muggle woman several hundred years in the past, and nothing more. Unless she had a panic attack, she supposed, but all that did was make her eyes hurt and her body absolutely exhausted. She hadn't learned anything yesterday during her panic- she had been too busy screaming.
Malfoy had pulled her out of it, she recalled as she conditioned her hair and moved on to washing her body. His voice, guiding her through moments of happiness, had broken through the light's protections, pulling her back to this reality. He had held onto those moments, remembering not only what had happened but how she had felt, what they had meant to her, and why. He hadn't had to pause to remember- he knew them right away, the same way he might name important memories from his own childhood.
You should be very grateful that my son loves you very much.
Was that love? Ginny supposed she didn't know. She had never said I love you in a romantic way to anyone before, and no one had ever said it to her either. She knew what familial love was like, and friendly love, but romantic love? She wasn't sure.
She supposed she wouldn't ever know, now; she wouldn't have anything else to compare it to.
She pulled the tab in the bath and dried her hair, then her body. She went to drop the towel, but realized just in time that there were no underthings waiting for her on the counter. A spark of irritation flashed through her, but it was quick. She wrapped the towel firmly around herself before opening the bathroom door.
Malfoy was still in bed.
"I need underthings," she said from the doorway.
"You can grab some."
Another spark of irritation.
"That's not how the routine works."
"I'm changing the routine."
"It's not a routine if you keep changing it."
Malfoy glared at the ceiling. "Fine." He threw off the covers and walked quickly over to the wardrobe. He pulled out a deep purple set, walked to her, and pressed them into her hands.
"Here," he said.
"Thank you," she said. "I'll be ready in just a second." She closed the bathroom door, dropped the towel, slipped the underthings on, and opened the door again. Malfoy was right where she left him.
"You really did mean just a second," he said.
"Yes," she replied before turning and walking to the stool.
"Why are you doing this?" Malfoy asked, stepping into the bathroom with a wary look on his face.
"It's my morning routine," she said. "I'm supposed to follow the routine, and I'm doing what I'm supposed to do."
He eyed her with suspicion. It was strange to see him in the bathroom in his pajamas rather than robes. By this point in the morning, he was always dressed- he nearly always got up before her, despite professing not to be an early riser.
He hesitantly picked up the hairbrush. "Do you… want to talk about last night?"
"I don't have anything in particular to say about it, but if you want to, we can."
He started brushing and she tilted her head back, leaning into the sensation. He stopped moving the brush almost immediately.
"You can keep going," she said. "It feels good."
He started brushing again, slightly more sure but not much.
"If you don't want to talk about last night," she said, "I would like to confirm if one or both of our previous agreements are still in effect."
"They both are," he said, confusion evident in his voice. "Why wouldn't they be?"
"For the first one, we deviated from that agreement last night. You opted to immediately use the tattoo for most things after you brought me back to the bedroom. I suppose I should say our bedroom, now. After you brought me back to our bedroom. Anyway, that's for the first one. For the second one, I thought it was likely that after my deception, you wouldn't want to continue with your promise to try to protect my family. If that's the case- which you're saying it's not, but if it is- I would like to renegotiate terms if at all possible."
Malfoy continued brushing, his eyes on his work. Finally, he spoke. "For the first one, last night was an unfortunate exception. I was in a panic. Under ordinary circumstances, I won't use the tattoo unless absolutely necessary. And for the second, there's no need to renegotiate anything. I will hold up my end of the bargain."
"Are you sure? I would think after last night, you would want to take advantage of all my promises."
"You're going to have to explain more what you mean."
He hadn't phrased it as a question. She would treat it as one anyway.
"I begged you not to tell. And you didn't. I don't even remember everything I said, but I remember the words anything, forever, and whatever you want coming out of my mouth. So what will it be?"
His jaw was tight. "The original terms stand."
"Alright. Let me know if you change your mind."
"What exactly do you think I'm going to ask for that I haven't already asked for?" he snapped, brushing a little too roughly on accident. She flinched and he immediately pulled the brush away.
"I don't know," she said. "It could be anything, as I said. More proactive compliance, maybe. I don't know."
"Is that what this is? Proactive compliance?"
"I suppose so. I'm trying to start day one off right."
"Day one? How is this day one?"
"After yesterday. Day one of my fight being over. Day one of forever."
If Malfoy's jaw got any tighter, it would snap.
"This is day seven," he said. "Not day one."
"Alright."
"You can put the cream on yourself."
"That's not how the routine works."
"Fuck the routine."
"Very funny. Turning my lines around on me. Although I don't know if I ever actually said that out loud."
He walked to the other sink and put toothpaste on his toothbrush.
"The agreement was that I enjoy what you give me," she said when he didn't respond.
He started brushing his teeth and slid the green jar across the counter toward her, his meaning clear. There, I gave it to you.
"It's not a routine if you keep changing it."
She didn't actually want him to be the one to do it. Not really. She felt a bit alien to herself, like maybe this was an alternate reality after all. But she wanted some bit of control. If this was to be her reality, no way out, she was going to lean into it, particularly if their second deal was still in effect. She was tired of things happening to her. She wanted to do something, so that's what she was doing- her menu of choices was just very small.
Her mind flashed on Malfoy's cuts. Was this morning a type of self harm? Maybe. Her own little punishment for herself.
Malfoy spat out his toothpaste. "You don't want me to do it."
"Why does that matter even a little bit? If you're trying to give me a break, I don't need one. I want things to go as they normally do."
"Tell me why."
Not a question.
"I thought of a loophole," she volunteered. "When you're asking me something but don't phrase it as a question, I don't feel the compulsion to answer."
Malfoy stared at her in the mirror. "Why are you doing this?"
"I'm tired of things happening to me. This is my life now- there's no way out. So I'm going to participate in it."
"Do you want to have the healing cream this morning?"
"Yes."
"Who would you rather apply it- you or me?"
"You."
Malfoy frowned, but walked over to her just the same.
"This isn't how I expected you would react," he said as he slowly unscrewed the jar lid.
"Would you like me to do something different?"
"I want you to act like you."
"That's what I'm doing."
His frown deepened, but he pulled some cream out and rubbed it lightly into her right arm.
She moaned, and his frown deepened still further.
"Stop exaggerating."
"I'm not. My body hurts from yesterday."
He rubbed the cream into her arm, and she moaned, and he ignored her. He kept his eyes on her arm, not on the mirror like he often did. Ginny frowned.
"I think…" she said.
"You think?"
"I think I want you to be awful to me."
Malfoy stopped rubbing. "Why?"
"It's normal."
"What if I don't want it to be normal?"
"But it is. You're holding back right now because you're worried about my fragile mental state, but if you did what you really wanted, it wouldn't be like this."
"Trust me, you're definitely not alleviating any fears about a fragile mental state right now."
"I'm fine," she said.
"I don't think you are," he said.
"I had a dream about this. Last night. My underthings weren't this color though- they were a pale pink, I think. You gave me new affirmations to say, except these ones were more like question and answer style. Do you want to hear them?"
"No."
"You're right, we're not at that part of the routine yet. Keep going."
"Ginny-"
"Keep. Going."
He grimaced, but returned to rubbing her arm. Ginny concentrated on the feeling, on the way her skin tingled and the muscle beneath it just seemed to melt from the cream's magic.
"I know you were exaggerating when you said you would buy the whole company, but I honestly don't think it's a bad idea," she said with a yawn. "Nothing feels better than this. If you want, I'll put some on you next time- you said I don't touch you enough. Well, not in so many words, but you implied it."
Malfoy said nothing, his focus entirely on her arm.
"I think that one's done," she said, once he had lingered over-long on her wrist.
He was avoiding her left side. Finally, he dropped her wrist and grabbed more cream.
She held her breath for a second, anticipating the intensity of the tattoo, but he stayed on her upper arm for longer than necessary.
"Do you not want to touch the tattoo?"
"You don't want me to."
"You can. Literally nothing feels better. If I don't resist it- which I can't, now- my whole mind goes blank. It's like nothing exists except for that."
Malfoy looked hesitant, but moved onto her lower arm, and she gasped.
"Oh my god," she whispered, her eyes fluttering closed. "Just like that."
"I know what you're trying to do."
"Draco-"
"Stop it."
"Do you not like it? I just assumed Pansy would talk a lot, but maybe it's more just sounds-"
He dropped her arm. "Enough."
"Is that not what this is?" she snapped. "Some stand-in for sex? Because that's what it feels like. I thought that was the whole point. I'm giving you what you want."
"Finish putting the cream on yourself, or don't. Your call- but I'm done."
He walked out of the bathroom and, suddenly furious, she followed him.
"Don't walk away from me," she said. "Don't start acting like a victim."
"I'm not a victim of anything. I think I'm very clearly a perpetrator at this point." He opened the wardrobe door, not looking at her.
"So do what you want then."
"That's what I'm doing."
She wanted him to be awful. Why wasn't he being awful?
She started to take off her bra.
"Stop. Don't do that."
"I thought you were only going to use the tattoo if it was absolutely necessary."
"It was absolutely necessary." He shut the wardrobe door without grabbing anything and looked at her. "I know what you're doing. So here- I'll give you something you really want. You are temporarily allowed to hit me."
Ginny's eyes widened. "What?"
"You heard me. Go ahead. You won't get in trouble and I won't fight back. Hit me."
It was like the floodgates opened. Ginny flew at him, fists raised, and punched him again and again. Mostly in the chest and stomach because that was easiest to reach, but she landed a couple of hits on his jaw as well. He didn't fight back, but he did make satisfying sounds of pain when she landed a particularly good hit.
At some point she realized she was yelling, not with any real words, but just sounds. All of the rage from the last month that had been pushed down again and again and again flew out of her, and it felt so good and so awful at the same time, she was high from it, she had needed this so badly-
And then, after a while, like a deflating balloon, the rage left her. She was spent. She collapsed onto the floor, breathing hard, and Malfoy sat down next to her. The beginnings of a bruise were blooming on his jaw.
"All done now?" he asked.
She nodded, still panting.
"Alright then. Your temporary permission is over."
That rankled, but she didn't have any energy to hit him again even if she could.
"Now you're the one who needs the healing cream," she said when she could breathe again.
"I suppose so."
"Why did you let me hit you?"
"You needed an outlet. I know what that's like."
She glanced toward his arm. The cuts were no longer there. He had healed them at some point.
"Now what?" she asked.
"To be honest, I have no bloody idea. I just want to go back to bed."
"This is your party. We can do what you want."
"Are your hands hurt?"
"Yes."
"Bring me the cream."
She stood on shaky legs and walked into the bathroom. Her knuckles were bruised and, now that the adrenaline had left her, quite sore. She grabbed the container, wincing, and walked back to the bedroom. Malfoy was still on the floor. Her muscles quivering from exertion, she sat down again and handed him the cream.
"Hands," he said.
She extended her right hand to him and, very gently, he rubbed the cream into it. She winced a little as he touched a particularly sore spot.
"Sorry," he said. "It'll be better soon."
"Even after I beat the shit out of you, you're still taking care of me."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I told you I would always take care of you."
"Why?"
"Because."
"That's a horrible reason."
He shrugged. "That's what I've got at the moment. Other hand."
Her right hand was healed- still a little achey, but the bruises were gone. She gave him her left hand and he started rubbing the cream in.
"You could have said Mother taught me to always take good care of my things."
"I could have."
"But you didn't."
"Seems like you already knew it. No sense repeating it."
"Affirmations are all about repetition."
"It isn't an affirmation. Just a statement."
"What makes something an affirmation?"
"Deciding that it is, I guess. Using it like one." He let go of her hand. "There. All done now."
He stood up.
"Wait. What about you?"
"What about me?"
"It's your turn."
"No. They can stay for now."
"I told you not to act like a victim."
"I'm not," he said, irritation finally creeping into his voice.
She stood up. "At least let me fix your jaw."
"Fine."
She took the cream from him and reached up for his jaw. As always, he stiffened when her fingers made contact.
"Why do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Tense up when I touch you."
He closed his eyes as she rubbed in the cream, the bruises fading from view. "It always catches me by surprise."
"Even when I say I'm going to do it?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"It reminds me that you're real."
"What?"
"Nothing. It doesn't matter. Thanks for the help." He took the cream from her and closed the lid before walking to the bathroom to put it away.
"Now what?" she asked when he returned.
"I'm going back to bed. Are you hungry?"
"Not really."
"Alright. Me either."
"Should I get into bed too?"
"If you want to." He crawled under the covers, disappearing under the sea of white blankets.
She frowned. Was he really just not going to command her to do anything at all?
Not knowing what else to do, she crawled under the blankets too.
"Hi," he said.
"Hi."
"You had the right idea about this a few days ago."
"It's like being in a cloud."
He looked around for a moment. The sun was shining, but the blankets were thick enough that it didn't make too much of a difference. They could see each other, but it was dim. Everything was white.
"I think I like being in a cloud," he said.
"Me too."
They didn't say anything for a bit, just laid there. It felt a bit like time had stopped. The world outside had nothing to do with the cloud they were in now. Nothing could hurt them here.
"I'm sorry about your dad," he said, startling her. "I didn't know he got attacked. Did he recover okay?"
"Yes," she breathed. "He was in St. Mungo's for a while, but he's fine now."
"That's good."
"You'll really protect them?"
"As much as I can, yes."
"Thank you."
He didn't say anything, just looked at her. He looked exhausted.
"What now?" she asked.
"You keep asking that."
"I want to know what to expect."
"Right now, just this."
"And after?"
"I'll figure that out when I get there. I'm in a cloud right now- can't really think about much else."
She wanted to be mad, but she laughed instead- maybe because she felt the same way. He smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"There's my favorite sound in the world," he said softly.
"When you were drunk you told me you could drown in it," she said with another laugh.
"I meant it."
She held his gaze, the sudden intensity of the moment taking her breath away.
"We're in a cloud," she said. "Pretty hard to drown in a cloud. Maybe you could float instead."
If she hadn't seen it for herself she wouldn't have believed it. His eyes lightened several shades almost instantly, like a cloud had passed over the sun and was moving on now.
"Maybe I could," he said. "I'd like that."
"Then that's what we should do, right?"
"Right."
"Your eyes are pretty like that."
He raised his eyebrows. "Like what?"
"Bright. Not all shadowy. I wish they looked like that more often."
He smiled at her, but there was a sadness in his expression.
"I wish they did too."
"Why don't they?"
"It's complicated."
"More complicated than what I told you yesterday?"
He laughed. "Okay, maybe not more complicated than that. Maybe private would have been a better word."
"You like your privacy. Not personal space. They're different."
"You say I observe you too closely, but I think you observe me just as much."
"I have to, to try to understand you."
"To keep yourself safe."
"Yes."
"I…" He paused.
"You?"
"I don't want you to feel like you're constantly in danger," he said.
That wasn't what he was initially going to say.
"It's true though, isn't it?"
"Not anymore."
"How do you figure that?"
"I took care of the most dangerous thing."
She grimaced. "I suppose you expect me to thank you for it."
"Not at all."
Crack.
"Tilly is just checking on Master Draco," Tilly said hesitantly. "Master Draco did not ask for breakfast and it is already 10:30-"
"I'm fine, Tilly."
Ginny felt light weight at the end of the bed. Tilly had apparently climbed up.
"Master Draco is a lazy bones," she said in a disapproving voice. "Sleeping too late-"
Ginny burst out laughing at that, and after a second, Malfoy did too, great big belly laughs that shook the bed.
"Tilly is only telling the truth," Tilly said. "Tilly is not sure why Master Draco is laughing. It's time to get up now."
"Alright, alright, I'm getting up," he said, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye and flipping back the covers.
"Whoa!"
Tilly fell over on the bed, but she was clearly uninjured, which only made Malfoy laugh harder.
"Sorry, Tilly, but that's what you get for climbing on the bed," he said. "You wanted me to get up, I'm getting up." He reached out a hand and helped her stand.
"Tilly was only trying to help Master Draco," she said, incensed.
"I know you were. You're a wonderful house elf. How about this- can you bring Ginny and I brunch? Whatever you'd like to make."
"Actually Tilly, can you make eggy bread?" Ginny asked. "With maple syrup and bacon?"
"This is Miss's favorite breakfast food?" Tilly asked with suspicion.
"One of them. Please?"
"You heard the woman," Malfoy said.
"Right away, sir!" She Disapparated.
"She didn't believe me," Ginny said.
"It's a bit simple."
"I like simple things."
"I'll remember that."
"You wouldn't be you if you didn't."
He laughed again before getting up. He winced as he stretched.
"I'll be back," he said. "Going to put some of that cream on and get ready for the day."
"I could-"
"Privacy, Weasley." He walked to the wardrobe, grabbed some clothes, and went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
Ginny sat up but didn't get out of bed. She hadn't gotten dressed yet. Would Malfoy pick something for her to wear, or would that be another thing he would be foregoing this morning?
Day one. Or day seven, depending on who you asked. No Alys, no gem research, no riddles to solve. Nothing.
She thought back on her dream, her stomach twisting. Malfoy was always telling her she wasn't a ghost, but how could she not be? She had died a hundred times over, and she was still here, but she couldn't see her family or friends ever again, and they couldn't see her either. They would have to move on with their lives without her, and she would remain here, forever. A corporeal ghost.
She laid back down. What would she even fill her thoughts with now? She could still think about Alys- Malfoy could not, as far as she could tell, actually command her thoughts- but what would be the point? Even if she had a major epiphany on all of Alys's riddles, she couldn't contact her or respond to any contact she might receive. Even if she watched Alys perform the ritual of the two who move as one step by step, she couldn't do it herself. So what was the point thinking about it?
She sighed. It was depressing.
Crack.
"Breakfast is ready, Miss!"
"Thanks, Tilly. Can you put it on the table please?"
Tilly levitated the tray to the table between the two armchairs.
"Tilly is happy that Miss asked for food," Tilly said. "Tilly will make whatever foods Miss likes."
"That's sweet. Thank you."
Malfoy opened the bathroom door at that moment, his hair wet.
"Oh good," he said. "Thanks Tilly."
"Let Tilly know if you be needing anything else!"
Crack.
Malfoy raised an eyebrow at Ginny. "You're still not dressed."
"I wasn't sure if I was supposed to be."
He sighed. "That's fair, I suppose." He walked to the wardrobe and pulled it open. "How do you feel about red, little Gryffindor?"
Her heart twisted.
"Not... not today."
"Hmm. Alright." He picked out a light blue one instead, reminiscent of the robes Narcissa had worn during her fitting. "Here."
She got out of bed and grabbed them from him.
"Thanks."
"We never did try all of them on. Maybe a little later."
"I'm sure I've worn them all by now."
He scoffed. "Hardly. I know you were kind of in a daze that whole day, but I bought you a lot of robes. A lot."
"One of your many virtues."
"I'm just full of those."
She slipped the robes on, biting back a laugh. They went to sit down and eat. She closed her eyes with the first bite, savoring the familiar flavor.
"Your mum used to make this?"
The question caught her off guard but she recovered quickly. "Mmhmm."
Probably still does make it, I just don't get to eat it.
"I'm not sure my mother would even know how to work a stove, magic or no magic."
"Tilly would chase her out if she tried."
"I can't even imagine."
"I used to always complain about helping cook, but now I kind of miss it. Do you think you could convince Tilly to let me in the kitchen?"
"I don't have to convince her to do anything, I can just tell her."
"That's her domain, I'm not intruding where I'm not wanted."
"You're wanted."
She paused, her fork halfway to her mouth. He met her eyes, held her gaze for a second, and then looked down at his plate.
Their dynamic was so strange. These little moments of sincerity against a backdrop of near-unrelenting horror. It didn't make sense to her. But then again, she had decided days ago now that she would stop trying to figure Draco Malfoy out.
She took another bite of food and swallowed before asking, "What are we going to do today?"
"I want to take you to a special place on the grounds. I don't think you've seen it yet. Or if you did, you ran right past it in your mad dash the first day you were here."
"I can't believe I jumped off the roof."
"Trust me, I can't either."
"You wouldn't have done the same?"
"Definitely not. I'd be scheming, of course, but not like that."
"It seems I've run out of schemes."
"Seems so."
"I know it's only been a week- Merlin, has it only been a week?- but when are we going to have to start talking about... my debut, or whatever you want to call it?"
Malfoy swallowed his food. "Not for a while yet. Maybe toward the end of July. We have lots of time."
"What if I want to talk about it now?"
He looked at her. "We can, I guess, but I don't know much more than you do. I don't think I'll have answers to any questions you might have."
Ginny frowned. "Do you know what I'll have to say?"
"Not in detail, no. Not any more detail than what I've already told you. We should wait for them to tell us."
"I don't like waiting, especially for something like that."
Malfoy shrugged. "And I don't like worrying about things that aren't in front of me. Are you done eating?"
"Yes."
"Okay. Then let me grab shoes for you." He stood up and grabbed a pair of grey slip-on shoes from the wardrobe. "Let's go."
Seeing that he was done answering her questions, she slipped on the shoes and followed him out of the room. Their third trip outside. Hopefully it would be a peaceful one.
They went down the stairs and out the front door. It was warm out, with just the lightest breeze tickling her hair.
"This way," he said, turning right out of the front door and leading her past a small patio she hadn't noticed before- certainly where Narcissa must have been having tea when Ginny had jumped off the roof. They kept going, rounding the corner of the house, and walking across the grounds.
"Where are we going?"
"You'll see."
They kept walking until they were near the hedge marking the barrier of the grounds.
"A wall. Lovely."
He laughed. "The manor is a bit like Hogwarts. It has many secrets." He walked up to the hedge and placed his hand on it, where it promptly disappeared. Ginny's eyes widened.
"Are we leaving the grounds?"
"Technically no. But you do have to be a Malfoy to open that wall. I'm here with you as your escort and I'm giving you permission to go with me, in case the command is finicky. Come on." He held out his hand to her, and she took it.
They walked a little further through the lightly forested area immediately adjacent to the hedges and the ground began to slope. Unusual- she hadn't noticed any raised areas of land, but she supposed she also hadn't looked very hard.
She gasped when the trees cleared. They were on a hill, at the top of which was a great oak tree. Not the place she had seen through the portal, but perhaps an earthly version of it.
"I thought of this when I saw your painting," he said. "My mother used to take me here to have picnics when I was a boy. You can see out over the whole forest from here. And look at this." He waved his wand, and a wooden swing appeared anchored to one of the tree's lower branches.
"Wow," she said, amazed. Was this... a clue? Or a coincidence?
"Hop on," he said. "I'll push you."
She did, feeling a bit wrong-footed. Almost like she was experiencing déjà vu. The wood seat was smooth under her as she sat down. The swing was a perfect height, like it was made for her.
Perhaps Malfoy adjusted it.
You really could see the whole forest from here. It stretched for miles and miles in every direction. How far did the Malfoys' lands extend, exactly? They were so far away from any other people. Although with Apparition, perhaps it didn't matter.
Malfoy stepped behind her and gave her a push, sending her flying forward. Her stomach gave a delicious swoop as he pushed her again. It was no broomstick, but it was about as close to feeling weightless as she could get.
She laughed as he pushed her higher and higher, the worries of the world falling away from her as they always did when she flew. Now this was a thoughtful gift- something that mattered to her. A little taste of freedom.
Somewhere off in the distance, a crow flew overhead and let out a loud caw.