In Good Times And In Bad Times
Disclaimer: I wish they had a paste on disclaimer. But then I suppose I’d have to disclaim the disclaimer, so... Anyway, it’s all J.K.’s. Yes, it is! Don’t look at me! I didn’t say it was mine! I promise! Don’t! Ahhhh!!!
Chapter 4 — Watch Her
Ginny sat at the long dinner table. It felt funny, the quietness of the room. She was so used to Fred and George’s jokes, her mother fussing over the little things, Ron talking about the Chudley Canons with Charlie, and Bill’s stories about his latest treasure find. Only when the mindless chatter was gone, did she realize how much she missed it. She supposed the little things only started to matter when she couldn’t have them.
Ginny used to love the silence. The quiet, soft sounds of her breathing, the only other noises being the thoughts in her head. It was her time to look over the day, what had happened, what she still wanted to happen. But there was always the knowledge that if she ever needed anything, her family would be there to help, to guide her, each in their own way. Now, sitting alone, she realized just how much she wanted and craved her mother’s soothing hug or her father’s kind voice.
"It figures that the one time I want them around they aren’t there," she muttered grumpily. Immediately after the words left her mouth she felt a wave of guilt come over her. They were probably out at the moment, searching for her, worrying about her. Yet here she was, in the most beautiful (but haunting) house she had ever seen, sitting on an intricately carved dinner table, large enough to seat twenty but only having one, ready to start eating more food than she could ever imagine of eating. She was ready to slap herself.
Seeing the look on her face, five house elves-including Zingy-rushed up to her side.
"We is helping you Miss?" Zingy inquired politely, head tilted slightly downward, eyes never meeting Ginny’s.
"No," Ginny started, but seeing the crestfallen look on their face, changed her mind. "Uh, maybe a glass of pumpkin juice. And after that you can all go and take a break."
While two of the five scurried off, presumably to get the pumpkin juice Ginny had asked for, Zingy, head still downward, said matter-of-factly, "We is House-Elves, Miss. We is not wanting a break. We is to be helping Miss, Miss."
Ginny finally understood Hermione's need for S.P.E.W. These house-elves were so obliging it was annoying. Yet, why try to help them when it seemed they didn’t want to be helped at all?
Out loud she said, "Thank you very much, thank you all very much." They beamed great grins at her. "I’m quite fine at the moment."
Where was Draco? She wondered silently. He had said he would be at dinner. But when Zingy had come to bring her to the dining room, she had been greeted by nothing but an over-filled dinner table.
And do I want him to be here? She wondered again. In the last few hours she had seen a part of Draco Malfoy she had never known was there. She had always seen him as an aloof, sneering, holier-than-thou, git. But when he had told her of his past, of the horrifying things that he had been through, she...
And his eyes. They were the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen. They were normally covered, shielded. But when he had sat with her, they were, for once, unguarded. So full of sorrow, of pain. She had seen him like she doubted anyone had seen him like before.
At the thought of him sitting with someone else the way he had sat with her, Ginny felt a twinge of jealousy run through her. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Best not to think thoughts that ran along those lines. It wasn’t real, whatever emotions she was feeling at this time, anyhow. It was merely the shock-the shock of seeing You-Know-Who, of being taken to Malfoy Manor.
Or so she told herself.
~*~*~*~*~
Phillipa Grant sighed softly. There was a heavy cloud over her head, and not so in the literal sense, though the bad weather had grown. It had been quite long, since Ginny Weasley had failed to return to the Auror Headquarters when she was due. In ordinary (or as ordinary as life now ever was) days, she wouldn’t have worried as much as she was worrying now. Ginny Weasley was a fine Auror, one of the best, in fact. She would have been much better off worrying about some of the more... clumsy Aurors, in her department.
But she wasn’t.
Phillipa had received a slightly (make that very) disturbing note by owl post. From the bird that it was sent by (a beady-eyed falcon) to the horrible red ink-which she strongly suspected was blood, it chilled her down to her bones. She suppressed a shiver as she remembered receiving it.
A word of warning...
It may have had nothing at all to do with Ginny. It could have been talking about another attack: a lot of blood. It could be referring to whatever sick torture session He and His followers had planned.
But Phillipa remembered the time right after the arrival of the note, when someone had come running in, shouting about another attack. When Phillipa had come, she had been greeted with the sight of a dead man-Muggle or Wizard, she didn’t know-with a large ‘G’ carved into his upper body. Scary coincidence.
Then there were all those times where Ginny had led the captures of large groups of Death Eaters. They clearly had some reason for wanting to hurt or kill her.
She still wasn’t completely sure that it was Ginny they wanted. But nothing was sure in these uncertain times. She was forgetting how it felt to walk in the streets with nothing to fear, to come across small children and know that they were safe. How it felt not to be greeted each day with blood and fear. To know that you could go out and come back knowing that those you loved were safe, waiting to welcome you.
Phillipa shook her head, trying to stop her train of thought. It was no use remembering what had been, or what could be. She wasn’t an imaginative person, always preferring to be practical and down to earth. She realized that tears were dripping down her face, and hurriedly wiped them away. It would do no good if someone came in to find her crying like that.
She settled down to her work, pushing away all other thoughts. But before she completely put her mind to the work, she hoped with all her heart that Ginny was all right.
She really did.
~*~*~*~*~
Draco watched in silence as his master proceeded to torture another unlucky innocent person. He heard her screams of pain and terror, lowering his eyes as she was delivered the final blow. Her violated body crumpled into a heap. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her husband, restrained by chains, having to watch as they killed each of his family members.
Draco was a Death Eater. He had grown up with the Dark Arts, with the knowledge that it was okay to harm others to get what he wanted. He was very sure that the family motto was "Every Malfoy for himself. Oh, and Voldemort, Slytherin, or whatever reigning Dark Arts Master at this time of course, kiss their feet and grovel so they like you." Perhaps not necessarily put like that, but the meaning was clear.
Draco wasn’t supposed to love anyone or anything but power, riches, himself and Voldemort, in a way. He knew his father didn’t love him, and he also knew that he didn’t have to love his future wife or child. But seeing the agonizing look on the man’s face, the look in his eyes of anger, of fear, of pure hatred for these men who, with one day, had taken his life, taken his soul, and broken it. But most of all, in his eyes Draco saw the look of sadness, the look of regret, that he couldn’t have done anything to save his family.
And Draco saw the same look that he had seen in Ginny’s eyes, when she had looked right into his eyes, as if trying to see right into his soul. And he had looked into her eyes, not sure what he was seeing there, but know that so much emotion was held there that he couldn’t keep looking at her. And so he looked away.
As much as he didn’t want them to, his thoughts were turned to Ginny Weasley.
How he hated her. He really did. He hated her for coming into his life so suddenly, threatening to break through the wall he had taken so long to build. For making him feel the way he did when he caught sight of her beautiful red hair or her lips. He hated the way he noticed all the little things about her, like the way she bit her lip or the way her nails were slightly chewed.
He hated the way she had looked at him when she had learnt about his past, about his family. And he hated her so much for hugging him, and for the way he felt when she had.
But most of all, he hated hating her.
"Draco." The curt, guarded voice of Sebastian Brickley jerked Draco out of his Ginny-induced haze.
"Sebastian," he replied back, in the same guarded tone.
Sebastian Brickley was a groveling, feet-kissing, evil-by-association Death Eater. He was well known among their ranks as willing to do anything under the sky, so long as it did something to elevate the opinion Voldemort held of him.
To everyone that he felt was lowlier than him, he was proud and snobby. It was funny, Draco often mused, how someone so much like him could annoy him so much. No, he mentally corrected, how he had been like. He wasn’t like that anymore.
"Things going alright with the Weasley girl?" Brickley questioned.
"Fine, Sebastian. Gin-She is fine." Draco suddenly realized he had almost referred to Ginny by her first name. Luckily, his years of hating and scorning Weasleys had kicked in before he had done so. He hoped Brickley hadn’t noticed.
He appeared not to have, and Draco gave a mental sigh of relief. No doubt that if Brickley had noticed, he would have ran straight off to Voldemort, telling him that Draco was getting friendly with the ‘Weasley Girl’.
Draco wondered why Brickley was showing a sudden interest. It wasn’t like Brickley to be friendly, especially to Draco. They both hated each other with a passion, as was proved by their frequent disputes. And it wasn’t like Brickley to be wondering about Draco’s business. Although, Draco supposed, if that particular business happened to be Voldemort involved, he might make an exception.
"Why do you ask?" he asked in an toneless voice.
"No reason," Brickley threw out carelessly. "Just that you seemed distracted today, and didn’t seem to realize that everyone else has Apparated home already."
Draco was startled out of words, but only for a second. The infamous Malfoy calm returned to him, and he threw Brickley his most condescending look. "That shows how much you know, doesn’t it. I was merely reflecting on my Lord’s newest plan," he sneered at Brickley. "And it seems that you are the one who should be paying more attention to Him. After all, I’m the one he chose to look after the Weasley."
He picked up his wand, ready to Apparate away. "By the way, I’d watch my back if I were you." Draco disappeared, happy with the last word, leaving Brickley behind with nothing but questions.
~*~*~*~
A/N: Has that last sentence of Draco got anything to do with the plot? Your guess is as good as mine! I’m sure I had some semblance of a plot once, but I lost it somewhere along the line. I’m sure I’ll find it soon. Review, give me inspiration, make me happy.
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Draco and Ginny belong to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury, Scholastic, Warner Bros and various other corporations. They are being used here without permission and/or affiliation with the above. None of the authors listed here make any profit from these stories.