The Laws Have Changed - Chapter 7
Food was a necessary distraction at that moment in time.
His girlfriend (now that was something he would've never expected in this life) was also trying her best to quell the need she had inadvertently rekindled in him.
She had, blessedly, turned his attention to her Quidditch match, offering to give him a play-by-play to assuage his guilt. He smiled when she asked him if he would prefer her to imitate the energetic stylings of Lee Jordan or if he preferred the dreamy, roundabout, non-sequitur-filled way Luna Lovegood commented on the matches. He laughed at her surprise when he informed her that Lovegood's style was too hard for her to imitate.
He expected her to be cute in her protestations about his implied challenge, but she simply grinned; an unrecognizable glint present in her eyes as she launched into a spot-on impression of the rather spacey Ravenclaw. He later realized his mistake in forgetting that she was quite close to the blonde fifth year and had heard plenty of her friend's comments on unrecognized magical creatures.
When she implied that his head's infestation of wrackspurts was preventing him from following along, he had to turn away to prevent himself from spitting his mouthful of pumpkin juice all over her.
"You did that on purpose!" he cried out after wiping off the offending liquid.
"Wrackspurts are a very serious condition, you know," she began, without missing a beat; her voice still doing a lazy, winding imitation of Lovegood's. "They're not a good sign for any student."
"Make me do that again and I'll take away visitation rights," he said with a sly smile.
She gasped, probably more dramatically that she normally would've at his playful threat. "You wouldn't dare," she breathed out, hand placed on her chest to enhance the drama.
"You're right," he replied, sobered up at the realization that he wanted to keep her as close to him as possible.
He stood, offering his hand to guide her over to the armchair that was now their chair. He let her settle into her draped position over him and wrapped his arms around her waist. She finished her play-by-play in her normal voice, adopting wild gesticulations to enhance tense or exciting moments. Every so often, he'd find himself just staring at her. He had been convinced by now to not believe in the promises of false idols, but he couldn't help but pour his unyielding faith into her.
She wasn't afraid to show him her impurities and he was grateful for her candor in those moments. It helped restrain his need to consider her the pinnacle of perfection. Because why else would she trust someone like him? Her silent understanding was a salve; making him feel normal in their fleeting moments together. It gave him hope, it gave him determination, it gave him everything he didn't know he was missing during his first life.
"I think you should read this book when I'm done with it."
He looked up from his seat at the small table they always shared. She had surprised him with his favorite kind of chocolate cake for his birthday; a day he himself almost forgot. After she had let him taste the errant bit of chocolate that had somehow gotten onto her mouth, they had settled back into their normal chairs. He had met with her with the intention of being somewhat productive, despite his brief detour. He'd taken to completing his homework again since the detentions he had been getting for ignoring it meant he couldn't see her. And seeing her was liking breathing at this point, so it wouldn't do to shirk on his responsibilities anymore.
"Don't tell me it's another one of Brown's recommendations." He shivered as he remembered the last time she had listened to the older Gryffindor's book suggestions.
She laughed, clearly remembering the incident before shaking her head. "No, Luna actually told me about this one. It's called Catch-22."
He scrunched his brows together in thinly veiled abhorrence. Sounded like some Muggle-written nonsense, but he didn't need to actually voice that thought. "What's that even mean?"
She giggled, seeming to understand his implied distaste from his tone. He'd need to work on that. "It's a term that stemmed from the book itself, apparently. It's a catchall term for situations where you're essentially stuck, regardless of what you do. Or you may have a task set before you, but in order to even complete that task, you absolutely have to do the thing that comes before it; whether you like it or not." She tilted her head to think. "Basically, you're trapped by two contradictory conditions."
He almost wanted to laugh at her explanation. His entire existence right now was a catch-22. His only problem was that, in this second chance at life, he didn't even know what the bloody hell he was supposed to do to fulfill those damn prerequisites. His known task was almost at hand and he still didn't know the depth to which Ginny was involved. He was very much shielding her and would continue to shield her even after it was done, knowing that he would probably lose her in the process.
But he had made his peace with that decision. He knew there was a quota on the amount of happiness he was to be given in this new life, and he may have reached that limit.
"Why do you think I'd enjoy it?"
"Is it weird to say that it feels like I'm reading about current Wizarding England and not about Muggles from the 1940s?"
He gave her a wry smile, suddenly becoming intrigued by whatever parallels she was finding. "Stranger thoughts have probably occurred."
"I know it's silly," she began with a laugh. Didn't she know by now that he would never find her silly? She was brilliant as far as he was concerned. Even with her interest in Muggle literature. "But there are some intriguing similarities. The book takes place during a Muggle world war, where both sides feel they're doing something for the good of the world, but one side is very clearly not doing things that would be beneficial for humanity. And the main character is trapped in this never-ending loop of fighting and bureaucracy because he's just a pawn on a chessboard he can't even play on."
Her last turn of phrase echoed in his head. There he was, thinking that he was, at the very least, a knight that he could have some control over, but he couldn't've been more wrong. He was a pawn and the game was never his to play in the first place.
His expression must've darkened as he let the resignation of that thought overtake him. What was the point in fighting for his life this time around if he couldn't even control the board? Why was he chosen for this second chance and not the other people who must've surely died alongside him during his first life? Guilt began to drop into his stomach like lead and, for the first time in a long time, he placed his head between his knees, gagging, but trying not to throw up in front of her. She didn't need to witness this side of him; not when her presence was the only thing preventing it.
Horror very nearly overtook him when she rushed to crouch in front of him. Embarrassment won out as she pulled him to her on the floor, letting herself be held in his lap as he buried his head in her neck. He became all too aware again of his sickly frame, his pallor, his exhaustion. His collarbones still protruded more than they should've, his clothes still hung on him like they were on a hanger. The few meals he shared with her were not enough to dissuade the dark circles under his eyes or the slight grey tint his skin continued to have.
He was so frail next to her, yet she never commented on it after their first kiss that fateful night. Never insinuated that she found any issues with his looks. It was unnerving knowing that she truly cared for him for reasons that most teenagers didn't understand.
So, as she rubbed his back, placing the occasional kiss on his head, he couldn't help but drown.
He was nearing the end of his rope when she finally made reference to his task.
"Something's about to happen, isn't it, Draco?"
He looked at his beautiful girl; her brown eyes dark with worry, her soft lips red from biting them as a way to prevent her from saying something that might bother him. Her entire visage seemed dimmed from her visible anxiety.
He was dreading this moment and had been avoiding it for at least a week now, but the moment was nearly upon him. He couldn't stall things any longer.
He brought a hand up to her cheek, savoring the way she leaned into his touch. A calloused thumb brushed away tears she didn't realize she was shedding. This was more painful than any summoning the Dark Lord could've wrecked upon him. He had been suffocating in the waters of her harbor for almost a month now and he was loathe to resurface. He was going to lose her tomorrow night. That much he knew for certain. And if he did end up coming back for his seventh year like he had last time, there was no way she'd be there waiting for him.
"I'm sorry, Ginny," he whispered, throat constricting as she kissed his palm. "I couldn't find the loophole I was hoping for."
She shook her head and he knew she was about to be stubborn. "Whatever is about to happen, please don't lose yourself."
His eyes went wide when she grasped the hand he had placed on her face; terrified as he realized it was his left hand. His fear kept him in place as she unbuttoned the cuff of his jacket, then dress shirt, slowly rolling up the sleeves to reveal the one thing he'd had no intention of showing her.
She sighed, letting her fingers graze against the stain on his once pristine skin. "I can't believe Tom would do this to you," she murmured. "What did he corner you with?" Her voice was just above a whisper as she placed his arm back around her waist.
"My life," he whispered, "and my parents' lives."
He was waiting for the other shoe to drop. He was waiting for her to eventually come to her senses and run off to Potter and his motley crew of Gryffindors. So when she enveloped him in the tightest hug he had every experienced, he almost lost control. Almost completely broke down in her warm, understanding embrace. He knew what words he wanted to say to her, but swallowed them down like a bitter potion. If he said them now, he knew it would break whatever spell this current life had on him and on her.
He felt her hands cup his face, lifting his shameful self up to look into her eyes. He immediately darted them away. "I shouldn't have dragged you into this, Gin."
She tilted her head to force eye contact again and, if it were any other circumstance, he would've laughed at her clear look of determination. "I'm not letting you pull that card on me, Draco Malfoy. Not on your life."
He ended up smiling at her words before sighing. "You're not making this easy."
"Why should I? Do you know that I'd be putting up with the exact same shit if I was with Harry?" Well, that certainly commanded attention. Her lips crashed onto his and it felt as though she was trying to convey her message through the force of her kiss alone. She was… persuasive, to say the least. "If I was sitting in Gryffindor Tower, dealing with him, I'd still be left out of plans. I'd still be wondering if he was out there getting himself killed because he doesn't think before he acts. And I'd still be stuck; relegated to the side lines in case Tom decided to use me against him."
"What are you trying to say?" He could feel himself being pulled to the furthest depths of her now.
"What I'm trying to say, Draco, is actually two things. The first one being that I'm probably safer at school being around you than I would be around Harry." When he tried to interrupt, she quickly placed a hand over his mouth. In any other scenario, he might have gently bit it in an attempt at flirtation, but he settled for letting her feel his smile against her palm. "Tom obviously doesn't know about our relationship, otherwise you would've done something to me by now. The second point I'm trying to make is that I've known for a while that you've been stuck in a catch-22."
He sighed, letting his shoulders fall as exhaustion took over yet again. "So what do you intend to do now?"
"Oh, I only intend to remind my boyfriend of that big, beautiful brain I told him he has so he can remember what I said about catch-22s."
He chuckled, finding it ironic that he was still able to laugh considering the situation. It almost felt like she knew what he had been tasked to do. "Sometimes in order to complete the second task, I have to finish the first one; regardless of how much I hate the thought of doing either."
She gently pressed her lips to his this time, as though she was absolving him for what he was about to do. "Exactly," she whispered. "Tom is preparing for war and he was never going to make it easy. For anyone."
He let his arms encase her and pulled her as close to him as he could. Her lips landed on his again, but any gentle need was gone. She opened her mouth to him, letting his tongue explore every inch. She tasted like the lemon tart she had brought them for dessert and he thought the mix of sweetness and acidity was perfect for her. He let one of his hands roam down the soft plane of her bum, almost laughing as he remembered the comment she made the first time he did it.
Feeling brave, he used that hand to slide under her shirt, letting his palm go flat against the small of her back. Feeling braver still, he let that hand caress the skin at her waist, enjoying the gooseflesh his touch created. When she continued to make no attempts to move away from him, he slowly brought his hand up to cup one of her breasts. It was intoxicating, feeling her lean into his hand, knowing that he could push things further if he was so inclined.
But this wasn't the right time. It was enough that she had given him this much. He didn't want her to regret doing something he so desperately wanted, especially when she might hate him after tomorrow.
So he slowly brought his hand back to a more appropriate position and began tapering down on the intensity of their kiss.
"Why'd you stop?" she asked. He smirked at the thickness of her voice and the glazed over expression she was leveling his way.
"Because," he paused, kissing the tip of her nose, "I don't think this chair is suited for anything more than what we just did." He chuckled at her sharp inhale and wide-eyed recognition of what his words meant. "Plus, I still needed to talk to you about something."
He clutched onto his willpower, even as she gazed at him with her seemingly bee-stung lips and her gorgeously flushed skin. She had asked him why he stopped. And though he may not have as much experience as she seemed to think he did, he knew where that train of thought was going to end up. It made his chest swell with the knowledge that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
She sighed, lacing one of her hands with his. "I'm ready."
"I need you to stay far away from the Room of Requirement tomorrow."
"All day?" He watched her face contort in confusion.
"Yes," he exhaled, beginning to feel weary again. "I have to do something tomorrow that is part of my catch-22 and I don't want you to get tangled up in it."
Her eyes looked down and he could tell the gears in her mind were already at work, trying to think of a way to prevent his task or minimize it.
"Gin, I already know that Gryffindor brain of yours is spinning away, but do you remember what you said to me in the Hospital Wing?"
She sighed, then nodded as she licked her lips. "I told you that I would trust the path you're on."
"I don't like saying it, but this is probably the most difficult portion of that path. I would be lying if I told you I wasn't scared. However," a pause to let out a shaky sigh, "the thing that scares me the most is knowing that it will push you away from me." It was the closest he could get to saying the words he knew to be true in his heart.
"I'm at the bridge, aren't I?" Her whispered words felt like a knife.
"Yes, and should you decide to cross it, I would understand." He brought both of her hands into his, kissing the tip of each finger in silent apology. "If you decide to walk away, I wouldn't resent you for it. What you've given me these past few months is more than I deserve." She was crying now, fat tears silently rolling down her face. Even in the sorrow he was causing her, she was still trying to find enough strength for the two of them. "I won't be able to see you again after tonight, but if you find it in yourself to still want to be with me come next school year, just know that I don't know if I'll be able to let you go again."
His words sapped any remaining strength out of her and she let her sobs be heard.
As he sat there, cradling his brilliant and beautiful girlfriend to his chest, he prayed. A silent prayer that whatever path this current life was leading him on was one that would, somehow, keep Ginny in his life for good.
A/N - Thank you for reading and/or commenting! I always appreciate y'all's feedback or lil nuggets of love.