The Laws Have Changed - Chapter 17
He groaned as he looked around, hoping that he hadn't been forced back for a third time. He was rather fond of his new life. Yeah, he was still in the middle of a war, had still been forced to take the Dark Mark, but he had Ginny this go-around, so that had to count for something.
He knew he was in front of the Room of Requirement. He'd been there often enough in both lives to know the hallway like the back of his hand. He also knew that the two students standing in front of him were not Millicent Bullstrode or Terrence Higgs, but Crabbe and Goyle; trying their best to look like they belonged there.
"Why are we here?"
He turned in the direction of the new voice, surprised and yet not at all surprised to see the same two figures from one of his previous dreams. There was that man that vaguely resembled his grandfather and the tall woman who had been referred to as "Frey." It was this Frey who had asked the million Galleon question. Why were they here?
Her companion already had a cigarette in his mouth and he watched with fascination as he flicked his thumb up from his curled fingers, producing a small blue flame. The man shook his hand to get rid of the magicked blaze and he wondered why he didn't notice something like that the last time he saw them.
"We're here because I thought you'd like to see what I had in mind as the boy's other option." He took a drag on the cigarette and used the same hand to motion to his left, calling attention to the hallway before them.
As if she'd been summoned, he saw her, carefully creeping towards his two former bodyguards as she made her way to the room's entrance: Ginny. His Ginny. Exactly how she looked on that fateful day last term when she decided to pull up a chair to find out what was bothering him. He could feel his breath hitch before a lump formed in his throat at the realization that she had been sent to him on purpose. She was the other option he'd been given and, despite his frustration at the other prerequisites he'd been saddled with, he couldn't hate that first one anymore.
"What's so special about her? Neither one of them have a specific soulmate." Frey crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against a wall, clearly nonplussed at his future girlfriend's presence.
The man flicked his cigarette away and he watched as the object vanished before it hit the ground. "Very true. However, there's an interesting little tidbit about her family."
"Let me guess: her family hates his," she replied with a scoff. "You're getting awfully predictable in your old age."
"What can I say? Kore's made me a romantic."
They watched as Ginny whispered a Stupefy in the direction of the pair guarding the room's door and he had to laugh. Of course she was able to get past them with something as simple as a stunning spell. He watched the man and Frey trail behind her as she entered, making sure to keep his distance when he eventually joined.
He knew exactly where to go without thinking, his feet moving automatically as he made his way to the aisle where the Vanishing Cabinet was located. He got there before everyone else did and sat on the floor cross-legged, leaning back onto his hands. It gave him a chance to observe himself as he waited for the others to catch up.
He thought he was over-exaggerating or being maudlin when he promised himself that he would find ways to show his thanks to Ginny for as long as she wanted to keep him in her life. But the reality was that he really had been that thin, that gaunt, that drawn out; as though he was slowly being stretched and stretched and stretched until he couldn't take it anymore, until he became brittle enough to snap. He knew that his health was in shambles for most of his sixth year, but seeing it again, outside of his own body, made that knowledge more certain. That his insecurities hadn't been a figment of his imagination. That his mother's concern was truly valid when he'd gone home that winter.
"So is there anything else about the girl that makes her a suitable second option?"
He was brought out of his thoughts by Frey once more, noting that Ginny had already pulled up what became their chair and was laid out on it while she waited for him. He denied it to himself at the time, but she really had been so beautiful lounging there, patiently waiting for him to decide if he wanted to keep her around.
"Well, besides the whole family bit — I consider that to be an added bonus — I saw how she fought in that battle. She can be a bit hot-tempered, but she wasn't the type to call it quits so easily."
Frey shrugged her shoulders, still clearly indifferent to the scheme that had been released onto him. "Okay, but aren't there plenty of other girls around his age that would also fit that bill?"
"You're not wrong."
"But..?"
The man looked hesitant, clearly trying to figure out the best way to phrase his next statement. "She's corrupted."
Confusion marred his face, almost matching Frey's own concerned expression.
"What do you mean when you say 'corrupted'?"
He was beginning to like this "Frey." She clearly wasn't afraid to ask questions to try to make sense of the stupid little game he seemed to be in. If it even was a game.
The man leaned against the arm of Ginny's chair, not caring that her dangling legs were slicing through his corporeal form. "It's like this: the man that their world is fighting, the one our little idiot has to work for, is trying to cheat death."
"Now I know why Thanatos hates him so," Frey cut in with a chuckle.
"Quite," the man stated, his lips pursing into a thin smile. "Like I was saying, the one who calls himself Voldemort decided to play around with magic that he probably shouldn't've played with and now, his soul's split up into different objects."
"Is there a point to all of this?"
"I was getting there," the man grumbled, moving to stand beside Frey as they looked on at Ginny. "I had to give you the little detour into backstory for a reason. And the reason for that is that his father," he pointed at the him that was in the chair he had used all of sixth year, "decided to give her," a pointed finger at his girlfriend, "a diary that contained a portion of Voldemort's soul. A diary that the more she wrote in it, the stronger that little soul fragment got, to the point where he almost revived his seventeen-year-old self if it wasn't for that Harry Potter fellow."
"Oh," Frey squeaked, seeming to understand the significance of Ginny's presence now. "So what you're saying is that if these two could somehow end up liking one another, you think that there's hope yet for the boy. Because she understands what it's like to be a victim to dark magic."
"I'm so glad you finally understand." The man rubbed his temples in wide, slow circles. He chuckled, briefly reminded of Severus whenever he had to deal with a particularly dim-witted student. The man flinched when Frey whipped her hand against his arm, shooting her a glare as he rubbed it.
All three observers fell into silence as they watched the unlikely pair talk. He wished the actual Ginny could see these dreams. He wanted to know what she was thinking outside of what she had told him in the moment. He hugged his knees to his chest. She'd probably be equal parts fascinated and pissed off. Fascinated because she wouldn't have expected their seemingly clandestine meeting to be something planned out. And pissed off because she would hate the idea of being unwittingly influenced to do something the way she had been under Tom Riddle's spell.
He stood back up when she made her move to leave, her smile before she disappeared behind the stacks of items seeming brighter than he remembered it that day.
"Congratulations. The first prerequisite has been completed."
He stilled at those words, surprised to hear them even though he was in a dream.
"What the fuck was that all about?"
Frey turned on her companion, the energy around her crackling and sparking off of her like a lightning strike.
The man waved away her concerns as he had during the last time he saw them. "That's just my own little twist on what you might call a hero's quest. It's just a little spice, a little flavoring. I don't want to completely rewrite the boy's new timeline. Need I remind you of the old man."
It was Frey's turn to rub her temples in irritation. "Yes, yes," she began, moving to pinch the bridge of her nose. "I should've known something like this was bound to happen when you kept meeting with my husband."
The man cackled, seeming to recall the woman's son. "Oh, yes. He is a delight. I can only imagine what he and Dio would get up to."
Frey held up a hand, eyes closed in resignation. "Don't give him any ideas. He's entire too excitable and can be an absolute nightmare to deal with at that point." She opened them as she dropped the same hand, leaning her head back as her shoulders slumped. Her compatriot looked positively gleeful at the mental threads she was stringing together. "Which explains why you like him."
A predatory grin spread over the man's face. "Be that as it may, I couldn't make things too easy for him. We both know old Dumbledore still needs to die, but I also know that the boy's going to be too determined to either do it himself or he's going to falter once more because of the girl."
"And that's a good thing?"
"I would say so. It means she's affecting him for the better."
Frey sighed, her chest caving in as though this situation was something she had seen hundreds of times before and was growing weary of. "So are there more of these prerequisites?"
"Oh, yes. I don't want to give away too much, but I plan on putting up little hindrances to see if the girl will go to the boy of her own volition."
"What about that Potter lad? He fancies himself to be in love with her. Won't that affect his abilities once their war truly starts?"
The man shrugged. "It's possible, but he'll put duty over his emotions. The old man trained him well enough. Besides, he's a teenager. If he can save the world, he can find another girl to moon over."
He felt a jolt course through him and he knew his time was coming to a close.
He began to hear Ginny's murmured greeting of "Good morning" as she pressed her lips against his neck. When he again tried to see the man and Frey, they were gone; just as before.
He slowly opened his eyes, letting them adjust to the brightness that had seeped in through his window, casting a column of sunshine onto his bed. He smiled when he saw his girlfriend cuddled up against him, her eyes hooded from sleep.
Maybe it was the vision she presented before him, or maybe it was because he got to see their first true encounter again, but he couldn't stop himself from gently lifting her chin up so he could taste her in response.
He smiled at the light trill she made as she leaned into him. She tasted as warm as she felt, the result of a night spent relaxing in his bath and then later in his bed. Although, he began to realize that he needed to amend his claim to things. Quickly, and much to his growing delight, his room was becoming their room. The cloying sentimentality at such a thought would've repulsed him in previous years. He valued his time alone, valued his space and his ability to dissuade others from getting too close to him. But all of it was coming undone with each moment his girlfriend spent in his private quarters.
And, for once in his life, he didn't mind sharing.
He didn't mind how she always kicked her scuffed and worn Mary Janes or trainers all around the room as soon as she walked in. He didn't mind that she had taken over almost half of his wardrobe. Nor did he mind when her toiletries began making their way into his bathroom. He simply assumed that, once he reached adulthood, he would be able to live his life similarly to how his parents did: each had their own separate spaces, with their bedroom being the only shared room in their marital suite. He thought it sounded nice, knowing that he could have an area that he could still call his own while his future wife had the same. But whenever he found himself thinking about the comfort of his own suite, he began to imagine Ginny there.
What would she look like asleep on his bed at home? Would she be curled up on the sofa in his sitting room, reading one of her books? Would she come to his study to have lunch with him, giving him a much needed break from his Potions work?
Or would they find a place separate from the Manor? A place that they could call their own?
He might actually like that second option more, if he got right down to it. A place that they could both transform without the interference of their respective families, where they could chart their own path in a world without war. Would they even stay in England? Maybe they could travel for a bit. Experience their life together without the pressure and stress still weighing down on them. He hoped she still loved him then.
"You're thinking about the future again, aren't you?" She yawned towards the end of her question before shimmying down to rest under his chin once more.
"And what if I am?" He pinched her side, laughing when she wriggled in his grasp.
"It just surprises me, is all."
"Why does it surprise you?"
"You always seem so certain of it. Which I suppose isn't necessarily bad, all things considered. But it also seems a bit…presumptuous, I guess?"
He adjusted them so they were eye to eye. "It's because things still don't feel real, right?"
She sighed, chewing her lip as she avoided the smug look he was giving her. "Maybe?" He could feel her hands twitching next to his stomach. "Yes," she decided, her tone more resolute. "It doesn't feel like we're out of the woods just yet and I don't want to build myself up for whatever happens next only for it to slip out of my grasp." She smiled, then, those same hands coming up to rest against his chest. "It also feels strange to consider the fact that I could potentially be in a very serious relationship with someone at sixteen. I feel like that's something reserved for someone in their thirties. You know — an actual adult."
"So I take it that's a 'no' on us getting a flat in London after you graduate?"
He smiled as she giggled, relieved that she was able to brush aside his small joke like it was nothing. Even if he was almost, kind of, okay, not at all joking about getting a flat with her after she was done with school.
"It's not a 'no,' per se. It's more of a 'let's make sure we're alive and then go from there,' yeah?"
"I think I can do that. But only because it's you, Gin."
"All of this surety and cockiness of yours is really making me feel like I may have found the Draco Malfoy I knew before I weaseled my way into your life."
"Is that a bad thing?" He was grateful her vision was obscured by his collarbone because she did not need to see the very visible pout he was giving at her words.
She shrugged and pulled away, smirking when she saw how quickly he tried to change his expression. "Not at all, love. It just means I get to see more of how you actually are, without this dreary cloud of war hanging over us."
"Good, because I think you should begin to understand that I tend to get what I want."
"You know, you're incredibly lucky that I, one, find you attractive and, two, cannot be bothered this early in the morning to deal with your ego. There's only so much room in our bed, after all."
Well that little sleight, no matter how playful, was just begging to be punished in the only way he knew how.
He ducked under the covers, chuckling when she screeched his name as though they were suddenly someplace very public and not in the privacy of his room. He nibbled her right hip; not enough to leave too lasting of a mark or draw blood, but enough to ensure that the area would be red when he began moving his mouth towards her belly button.
She gasped at the kiss he placed just below that dip in her abdomen, enjoying how she squirmed against him. It was taking all of his self-restraint to continue going north instead of south, even though he had a feeling that she may not mind a smidgen of exploration. But he couldn't rush things. That's not what she wanted and he hadn't been lying to her when he told her that he needed to have enough time to genuflect. He wanted to know what she already felt comfortable with and what she would shy away from. He wanted to give her the freedom to experiment and explore at her own pace. So patience was the virtue he would need to cling to the most, even if he had never had much practice in being virtuous.
Keeping that in mind, he lifted her pajama shirt, giving him enough space under the billowy fabric to tuck his head under, placing himself on top of the thin bralette she liked to wear for her own modesty.
He pretended to prepare himself for a little morning nap when she lifted the shirt up from her end.
"You're such a pain in my arse, you know that, right?"
"I can't help the fact that it's so comfortable down here." He slid his hands under her back as he nuzzled against her. "Besides, I could say the same about you. You're a pain in the arse sometimes, but your my pain in the arse and I wouldn't have it any other way."
He knew he won when she let out an amused scoff. She might've even rolled her eyes based off of the tone alone.
"You get five minutes and then I need to finish up my Transfiguration essay."
"Fine," he drew out on a beleaguered sigh, smiling when he felt Ginny's shoulders shake in silent amusement as she let her arms cradle him.
"Love you," she whispered, his response mumbled against the swell of her breasts as his breathing evened out; his unintended nap overtaking him.
A/N: Thank you for everyone's continued support for this fic!
I'm also excited to announce that a fic that I was writing for the Gothic Fantasy Fest will be revealed on Ao3 next week! Unfortunately, I am unable to post it here due to the E rating, so I hope y'all check out my profile there at some point.
We'll also be revealing the fics from the Drinny Fall Fic Fest 2024 over there next week, too! There's so amazing stories that are being submitted and I can't wait to see what everyone thinks!