Incendio
Bid my Blood to Run: VII
FireSprite
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Title is from Evanscene’s "Bring me to Life", no money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's Note: This chapter was supposed to be a short one so I could get it out to you faster, but as always, the writing overtook my intentions and it’s now much longer than I wanted. However, because there was so much to tell, I should have expected that. Again, the delay I have with writing these chapters were far too long and I apologise. Also "you-know-who", this chapter is for you. I read your review very carefully and decided you were right and took your suggestion—which I’m glad I did, as it just makes the story even better. Thank you. (Also, if anyone can tell me how to make the top part in the middle of the page--I bed you to tell me how.)
***
How can you see into my eyes like open doors?
Leading you down into my core
Where I’ve become so numb
Without a soul
My spirit's sleeping somewhere cold
Until you find it there and lead it back home
--"Bring me to Life" – Evanscene
***
Draco looked down at Ginny, trying to control his breathing. She looked so beautiful staring back at him. Her face was flush with pink and shiny with dampness. Her pale skin shone in the moonlight; the schoolgirl blouse opened all the way, yet still partially covering her. Eyes wide, mouth open. She was every man's fantasy at this point.
As his eyes travelled from her neck to her shoulders, something made him stop short. He peered a little closer, then glanced at Ginny with a puzzled look.
"What’s this?" he asked, raising a finger to her shoulder. Ginny seemed as confused as he was for a moment before looking down too.
"Don’t touch!" she said, her voice sharp and commanding. "Please," she added, in a smaller voice.
"What happened?" Draco asked, as he eyed the thin, silver scar that marked her shoulder. He’d never seen anything quite so… precious, in his life. The scar almost melded in with the pale of her skin, yet it did stand out, the glint of re-grown tissue making it painful to look at. "When did this happen?" he pressed more forcefully this time.
"Nothing… It-it was an accident," Ginny whispered, fearfully. How come the scar now appeared? she wondered. Or perhaps it had always been there… She thought for a moment, a line deepening above her eyebrow. It had been dark when she had looked on it in the hallway--right after that dream. Maybe she hadn’t seen it because there wasn’t enough light. Still, she mustn’t let Draco know where it came from because--well, just because. He might be angry with her for going and getting herself hurt.
"Ginny," Draco’s voice was low and it sent a chill down her spine just hearing her name spoken like that. She couldn’t differentiate whether she enjoyed the chill or not. It was dangerous, but still sexy.
"I got hurt," Ginny finally confessed. "Maeve… She--she tried to kill me. When I was in the Otherworld. I didn’t know what to do." She paused as her voice almost cracked. "I didn’t know what to do," she repeated, much more calmly.
"Oh, Gin," Draco said, half a sigh, half resignation. His mouth was in a thin frown; he lifted his finger ever so slowly as he touched the skin around the scar. "Does it hurt?" he asked. Ginny nodded a little, but it was enough. He ran his finger over the scar and Ginny let out the breath she had been holding, loudly. "Did I hurt you?" he asked, taking his finger away from the area.
"No," Ginny said, softly. "It made it feel better. The pain stopped… Like it had in the hall when you grabbed my shoulder."
"What?" Draco said, "when?"
"When we were in the hall--and you, you kissed me and," Ginny ducked her head for a moment, unable to look at him when she whispered hotly, "when you touched me."
Draco couldn’t help it; he allowed a smirk. She seemed so embarrassed about it; it was almost cute, but very alluring. As if she was quite innocent. He would be her first; he had no doubt about it. The thought made him happy, oddly enough. It made him want her so much more. He wanted to show her the stars and the sky and all the good things that came from lo--from liking someone, he thought, quickly correcting himself.
Kissing her neck, his ran his thumb over the scar, back and forth, feeling Ginny relax under his touch. He stopped when Ginny whispered, "thank you", in a wonderfully sweet voice. Looking over, he wasn’t that surprised when he saw no mark left. No scar; it was gone. like He had washed away the pain and suffering with his touch.
And when Ginny reached up and took his face in her hands, it was almost too much for him; almost, not quite. He couldn't believe they were doing this--in his manor. Were they mad? Had they no sense? Yet, when Ginny closed her eyes for a moment, letting her hands drop and swallowed, allowing her sweet breath to exhale and fan his hot skin, all sense was driven from his mind. His stomach tightened as he leaned down, close to her but not a caress; letting him feel her without touching her.
"Draco…" she whispered. Such a devilled name coming out of such a sweet mouth. One of her hands snaked up to wrap around his neck and pull him closer; closer then they ever should be. Closer than it was allowed. Allowed by her parents, his parents, her friends, her life, his friends, his life.
Closing the gap once again, he brushed his lips against hers so softly, so faintly that it was almost a whisper rather than a touch. She moaned softly, pressing herself to him, trying to touch all of him, to know all of him. Their sticky skin moved slowly against each other. His hand moved up her milky white thigh, towards the centre of her heat and Ginny's head fell back against the pillow.
The gown had long ago been discarded, but she still wore her panties, although that mattered little. They were flimsy; small pink underwear, very thin. It was as if she wore nothing at all. And when he touched her… When he touched her, she seemed to shudder all over. Her eyes flew open and she stared at him as he tested, watched, seeing what she responded to; what she moaned to.
Suddenly, he doubled over in pain, as a wave of red-hot lava rushed up from his arm to his head, where it responded by pounding hard. He gritted his teeth and waited for the pain to wash over him and leave his body. He knew what it was and hoped it would go away. A mocking laugh shot through his head. It won't go away.
"What is it?" Ginny whispered after a moment, seeing him tense so suddenly and hold his breath.
"Nothing," Draco whispered. "It's nothing." Ginny didn't even bother Draco a look as she sat up and ripped back his sleeve. The Dark Mark glowed darkly. Looking at Ginny's face, Draco was troubled to see her eyes a storm of anger and pain. Her face almost twisted itself in fury.
"Don't go," she said, in a harsh voice. "Please, don't go, Draco."
"I-I have to, Gin. If he notices I'm not there, I'm dead." Draco opened and closed his hand, as though it would get rid of the burning sensation quicker.
"It seems like no matter what you do, you're dead," she said, crossing her arms, pulling the night-gown closer to her naked skin.
"The story of my life," Draco said, attempting humour.
"Don't be a prat, Draco," Ginny said, looking away from him. She brushed the hair out of her eyes.
"I'm not being a prat, it's you who's being a bitch about this," Draco fired back. "I can't just not go. It's too noticeable."
"So, then, what's on the agenda tonight?" Ginny turned to face him, her eyes glaring at him. "Muggle burning? Village pillaging? What? Oh, are you going to take me down there, turn me in, as one might say?"
"NO!" Draco exploded. "Ginny, I'd never do that to you. Do you realise what they'd do to you if they found you here?"
"I have a pretty good idea," Ginny answered, dryly. "My family does, after all, fight you all, take in the victims, care for them."
"Right," Draco said, looking down at his arm. "Well, I have to go."
"You can't leave me here!" Ginny said aghast. "This is the most unsafe place for me."
"I know…" Draco pressed his lips together in thought. "All right, fuck it, we'll kill two birds with one stone. I'll get Blinky to come and take you down to my Father's study--no, don't worry, she'll take good care of you, I promise," he said, cutting off her objections before she had a chance to voice them. "You get that damn sword, then I'll come and get you… The Dark Lord probably wants the sword anyway, so it's best you get it before him."
"Where will I go after I get it?" she asked, a touch of fear in her eyes. Wandering around the Malfoy Mansion with a potentially dangerous weapon was not her idea of fun.
"Just… follow Blinky, okay?" he said, getting up and grabbing his robe, hurriedly putting it on. Doing up the buttons, he looked at her. "I’ll go find her and instruct her to take you to my father’s study and only my father’s study." He quickly pushed his feet into his thick black boots and did them up. Touching her cheek with his hand, he said in a whisper, "I'll come get you."
She could only nod as she watched him pull the hood over his head and walk out the room, to go to see his owner.
***
"Follow Blinky," Ginny muttered to herself, pulling herself to the edge of the bed and pulling on her robes which had been left in a pile after she had come out of the bathroom in that night-gown. Her face was flushed and she put one of her stone cold hands to the burning cheek. Closing her eyes, she breathed out slowly. She couldn't do this anymore. She couldn't deal with this never-ending fact that Draco would never be hers because he was already someone else's. He was already Voldemort's.
It was too much for her sometimes. She felt like she would just die if she had to let him go again like that--not knowing if he'd ever return. When--if--he came back she'd have to tell him that it was too hard. That she couldn't just keep randomly snogging him. It hurt far too much. She may love him, but she couldn't do this. Tears burned at her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. He wasn't worth crying over. He was just a Death Eater.
"It's okay, it's okay," she whispered to herself. She would survive--she always did. She had survived her brush with death in the first year; she had survived her crush with Harry. She could do this--once more. But a small voice in the back of her head told her it would be a lot harder to get over that silver haired Slytherin.
Shaking herself out of it, Ginny gathered the rest of her clothes, put them on hastily then cautiously opened the door to see if anyone was watching. Blinky was standing outside, as though she had been waiting.
"Is mistress ready to go down to the study yet?" Blinky asked, apprehensive--almost as if she might be hit for asking such a question.
"Yes," Ginny said, smiling tiredly. "I think I'm ready."
"Then we have to be quiet!" Blinky put a finger to her lips and Ginny smiled and nodded again. Blinky was almost cute, Ginny thought as she left the room and followed Blinky.
***
Draco walked down the hall, his heavy boots making terrible thudding noises in the uneasy silence. A scowl masked his face. It seemed that no matter what he did, Ginny still couldn't accept him. It almost hurt.
She'll never understand, the same evil voice whispered to him. And she'd never understand unless she actually knew you. Unless she knew what it was like to have to live up to your parents expectations. Unless she was a Death Eater. She doesn't know, she doesn't know… The voice faded away, echoing its last statement hollowly.
Draco gritted his teeth and wished the voice wouldn't keep coming back. He hated knowing it was right. And it was right. Ginny just didn't understand him. No matter how she looked at him when he was about to kiss her, no matter what she said. Unless she had actually grown up like him it would be almost impossible to comprehend what it was like to have your destiny laid out for you. A destiny that was carefully calculated by his own parents.
How could they ever make it work? They were so different; a Slytherin and a Gryffindor. While she had grown up laughing and carefree, he had grown up scared and worrying. Her parents loved her; his--well, if they did, they had never shown it. His mother was, at best, sympathetic. And she tried her hardest to be nice. But he doubted she had ever really wanted a child with Lucius--who would? Knowing that that child would be marked as a servant to evil from day one.
Draco shook his head, stopping outside the room he knew they were meeting. It was time, once again to meet the Dark Lord. Putting his mask over his face, he blocked out all images of a red haired vixen lying on his bed and the painful squeeze in his chest knowing that she was in danger this moment. A calm settled over his face and his eyes narrowed as he pushed open the door and strode into the darkness and heat of the room.
***
It seemed as though Blinky knew all the secret passages to the manor--which was probably true for the most part. They would still, of course, be ones only the Malfoys knew about, not even trusting their house-elves with that privileged information.
Once Ginny was safely inside the study, she had a chance to look around. For some reason, she felt safer in the study where Lucius spent most of his time. Perhaps it was because she knew no ill deeds were plotted or thought in here. She didn’t know why she knew; but she did. This was a place of learning, not evil, and Lucius always separated the two, feeling it important. Ginny somehow picked up on this vibe and she felt safe.
The place was grander and more extensive than she remembered it being. The walls were literally covered in books. Libraries upon libraries covered the place, books of every kind and make rested their weary pages in this room. Aside from one wall, the wall which held a magnificent fireplace, books were all Ginny could see. Beautiful books too. Some made of leather binding, dragon hide skin, ancient tomes which held vast secrets of the ancient life of wizardry. If she had time, which she didn’t, Ginny simply would have pulled out a random book and sit down to read. However, she was here for something and something important it was.
Obviously, the sword was mantled in the only place it could be, the only wall not covered with books. Over a roaring fire—most likely always big and warm; the house-elves saw to that—it stood, silver and gleaming. It was exactly as Ginny imagined it. She took a hesitant step, then glanced back at Blinky, unsure as to whether to proceed or not. But Blinky only stood with unblinking eyes, and Ginny assumed that no warning meant good things.
She walked up to the fireplace and stood there for a moment, just letting the warmth penetrate her legs and up her spine, as she studied the sword. It was exactly as it had been pictured in the gem. It was no doubt what she was to find. The magnificent sword was silver with a gold handle. Ancient letter were written upon the handle but Ginny couldn’t make out what it said—she assumed it was Gaelic though, as that was the language the Gods spoke most. They were painstakingly carved, as if someone had very much loved and cared for this sword at one point in time. What a pity it ended up in the Malfoy Mansion, Ginny thought sadly. Upon the blade itself were green stems sweeping up the sword to the very tip, leaves branching out every few centimetres. The stems intertwined with each other and the green was a silvery green, glinting in the fires’ light.
Grabbing a chair from the side of the wall, Ginny managed to reach up and go to grab it. She stopped again, just short of resting her hand around its gold handle. Would it hurt her? Would something bad happen if she touched it? Don’t trust anything if you can’t see its brain, her father had warned. He was right, she didn’t know what sort of spells were placed upon this. But then again… She was supposed to find this. This was the whole reason of the gem, or so she thought. Why would anyone send her to get this only for it to hurt her. Unless it had been Lucius… But why would he do that? That was just very stupid on his part if he had.
"Mizz Weazley! Someone is coming!" Blinky yelled suddenly. Although Ginny didn’t hear anything, she instinctively trusted Blinky because it seemed as though Draco had trusted the little elf with her. Without giving any time for more thinking, Ginny grabbed the handle and hissed slightly when a sting of pain shot through her hand. It felt as it she’d slapped something very hard; her whole hand tingled. But nothing else happened and Ginny quickly got of the chair and put it back. She had to hurry; who knew who was coming. It could be someone very dangerous.
And by now she could hear the footsteps and knew indeed it was someone very dangerous. No one she knew could walk with that much malice but Lucius Malfoy himself.
"Shit!" Ginny said to herself, in a blind panic. "What do I do? Is there somewhere to hide?" She didn’t know what to do and she couldn’t move no matter how much she tried. She was frozen to the spot in fear. He would kill her the moment he walked in. There was no doubt in her mind that he wouldn’t hesitate. Ginny was breathing heavily now, she was so afraid. This was so bad. She had trusted Draco! And look where it got her. "Shit, shit, shit, shit!" she said to herself. "Think, Ginny, think. For God’s sake, hide somewhere." She had just started to move when the door burst open and Lucius Malfoy stood there, in a rage.
"What do you think you’re doing?" was the very first thing he said to her. He walked into the room, hardly surprised that a Weasley was there, but very surprised she had the sword in her hand.
Ginny was stuck dumb. She couldn’t move and she couldn’t talk. She couldn’t breathe, she realised quite late. So that’s what that hurting in her chest was. She finally managed a breath and felt herself almost die when she squeaked because of it.
"Girl!" he barked, as though it was her name. "I spoke to you; you answer to me."
Ginny opened her mouth, trying to think of something to say, anything. But the way he spoke to her made her speechless. She had forgotten he wasn’t polite.
"What do you think you’re doing?" Lucius repeated. He strode forward. Ginny saw his hair was immaculate, his clothing was perfect, and his composure would have been if it weren’t for two pink spots forming on his cheeks, a sign he was angered. She backed away, instinctively tightening on the handle of the sword. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think; Lucius was dominating too much off the room, leaving nothing for her to hold on.
Not waiting for an answer, having completely given up on Ginny saying anything intelligent, Lucius simply strode up to the terrified girl and reached down to take the sword from her hand. Ginny tried to move the sword again, but Lucius was too quick, too cunning; he had anticipated that move. Forcefully pulling it from her, Ginny held on as hard as she could, knowing that if he took this from her, if he took her last hope, she’d have nothing and everything, everything would fall to ashes.
"Argh!" Lucius bellowed, and with a quickness that surprised Ginny, let go of the sword. Lucius clutched at his hand as Ginny tripped backwards. She had been holding on as tight as she could and suddenly there was nothing pulling her from her place.
Smelling burnt skin, Ginny only saw Lucius’ hand turning red as she fell… fell into the roaring fire that had been at her back. The flames licked at her, soon taking away the scene before; Lucius half on his knees, his teeth bared, his hand black.
***
"Anna," a voice floated through the clouds and mist of Anna’s dream. "Anna, wake up." Anna stirred before finally opening her eyes. She shielded them from the early morning light as she looked up to who was gently shaking her.
"Hey Rain," Anna said, quietly. "What time is it?" she added, rubbing at her eyes and sitting up.
"It’s probably about six," Raina said to her. "Have you been down here all night?"
"I guess so." Anna stood up, yawning and stretching and the book fell off her lap. Raina bent down and picked it up.
"What’s this?" she asked, handing it back to Anna. "Looks boring—and I thought you hated Herbology."
"I do," Anna said, as she reverently took the book from Raina. For some reason, she didn’t want Raina to know that inside this boring book from the surface held strange and dark spells. "I just—well, I hate it so much that I figured I should do some reading on it if I want to even think about passing." She smiled as Raina laughed in agreement.
"That could be a plan," Raina said. "So, I take it you fell asleep down here?"
"Yeah," Anna said, as she rubbed the back of her head—as if trying to find the mark Pansy might have left. "What about you? Why are you up so early?" she added, placing the book on the table and straightening her clothes.
"Actually, I was looking for you. I woke up and didn’t see you in bed, and I remembered I had wanted to talk to you last night but I fell asleep before you went to bed."
"Oh? What about?" Anna asked, as she sat down on the coach, where Raina followed her.
"About," the girl glanced around the room, "you know…"
"You mean, the thing that happened in the dungeon?"
"Yeah…" Raina seemed uncomfortable as she picked at her jumper. "What should we do? Tell someone?"
"We could…" Anna said. "Or maybe we could go down there and check it out, see if there are any clues."
"I don’t know, Anna," Raina said. " Maybe we should just tell someone."
"Oh, don’t be so scared. Nothing bad will happen. We’ll just look around for a bit." When Raina didn’t move or say anything, Anna jumped up from the coach and grabbed Raina’s hand. "Come on! Let’s go!" she said, as she pulled against the resisting Raina.
"All right," Raina’s soft voice finally said. Anna smiled as she lead her friend down to the dungeon. After all, how scary could it be?
***
The room was dark, as was expected, but an odd musk smell penetrating them as they entered the darkness. Raina shivered and pulled her robes closer against her, trying to ward off the chill that tried to seep into her bones.
"Come on," Anna said, pulling her in towards the centre of the room. "See anything?" she hissed in the darkness.
"No, but it’s real cold down here. I wish I had brought a sweater," Raina whimpered.
"Shh!" Anna hushed her as she walked unsteadily in the room. "Do you think whatever that was is still here?" she turned, but only faced darkness. Silence for a moment. "Raina?" Anna’s voice held a bit of an edge of panic. She quickly looked around. Where could she go? Did something happen?
"I’m over here," was a hush whisper. "Help," the voice echoed from afar.
"Raina? What happened?" Anna said, blindly trying to find her way towards the corner. She would have lit her wand, but it didn’t even occur to her until—a flare went up and Anna looked at where she had been walking towards. Nothing. Looking behind her, she saw Raina, looking quite white and holding her wand like it was her lifeline. "How’d you do that?" Anna’s voice asked, slightly raised.
"Do what?" Raina shivered.
"You called to me from over here. You said help."
"I did not…" Raina said. "You disappeared and I couldn’t hear you."
"What?" Anna said, turning to the spot again, trying to look at it with the dim light provided. She saw shackles. And a dead rat. Taking a step back, her heart pounded in her throat.
The light went out.
"Hey," Raina said. She hit her wand against her palm and quietly ordered it to light again. It wouldn’t. A slight wind went by.
"Help." This time they both heard it—a low anguished plea. "Please, help me."
And then there were more moans and groans, coming from all around the room. Anna felt someone brush against her arm, as if pulling at it, trying to grab it. Chills of horror ran through her and she couldn’t breathe. She was going to be sick.
"Rain—the light!" Anna called, panicked. "Turn the light on Rain! This isn’t funny anymore."
"It’s not me—I swear!" Raina’s voice sounded so far away. "It’s not working, I don’t know why."
"Help me. I need you." A low moan and suddenly a sound of a whip sounded through the air. It cracked like lightning, full of charge and anger. A long howl of pain followed, echoing through the room, all around Anna and Raina—circling them; prey to the sounds of the dark.
"Anna," Raina said, "come over here." Her teeth were chattering and she was shaking all over.
Anna stumbled backwards just as something grabbed her this time—a long cold hand wrapped its fingers around her wrist, followed by a white face. One of a woman’s and one of pain and suffering.
"Please," it begged. "Get me out of here. He’ll be back soon. I can’t die here." Just as these last words were voiced, she disappeared from Anna’s vision and Anna turned and ran as soon as she felt the pressure being lifted from her wrist. She ran into Raina, who was standing still from shock.
"Rain!" Anna screeched, trying to pull her friend along. "SNAP OUT OF IT! Let’s get out of here. Now!" She practically dragged her half-frozen friend out of the dungeon and into the much warmer hall. Quickly, Anna slammed the door and bolted, sliding down the door, until she hit the ground. Across from her, Raina was curled up in a ball, shivering.
"What was that?" a ghostly whisper came out of Raina’s mouth.
"I don’t know," Anna said, still trying to catch her breath and still her heart. "But let’s never do that again."
Raina nodded.
***
As Ginny fell from the flames, she didn’t hit that back wall as she expected. She didn’t even feel the flames licking at her body. There was no pain, there was no anguish. She kept falling, until she hit soft earth. Afraid to open her eyes for a second, Ginny tested to see if she could still breathe. She could, and she took a deep breath of outdoor air; faintly soft, full of sun and flowers. Opening her eyes, she looked around a large field, full of long grass, swaying gently in the wind, bowing to the heat of the sky. The grass was so different from the ones by Draco’s house, Ginny thought, lying there, focusing her energy on looking at the pale green strands. She was afraid that Maeve lived here, so she hoped if she stayed still, no one would see her.
A shower fell across her, blocking out the sunlight in her eyes. Looking up, she saw a hulk of a man and instantly recognised the figure as Taranis. After all the dreams she had had with him in it, she could almost fell his arms around her.
"Welcome," his deep, rough voice said, yet with tenderness still. Ginny had never noticed how utterly male he was. Her mouth went dry against her will.
"Hi," she whispered, from where she lay on the ground, holding the sword tightly to her chest.
"Would you prefer to stand?" the voice asked with a hint of amusement. His eyes twinkled, but Ginny couldn’t see that as his face was a silhouette.
"Well, I do like the grass. It is very soft," Ginny said in earnest, which earned a rich, deep laugh from the god.
"Come," he said, leaning down and taking her free hand. Quickly, Ginny was on her feet and looking at Taranis. She smiled at him and he smiled back, neither saying anything for a moment. A gentle breeze blew Ginny’s hair across her face and Taranis reached out to tuck the strands behind her ear. Suddenly, his face grew serious.
"Do you understand why I have send you here and not to ashes in the Malfoy Manor?" he asked, gravely.
"No, not really," Ginny replied. He saved her? Like before when she had been in Donn’s underworld? She felt grateful but didn’t understand how to tell him.
"Do you see this?" Taranis said, taking something out of his tunic pocket and holding it up to wane sunlight. It was the gem; it glowed brightly as the sun hit it, breaking off into different streaks of sunlight that passed through it. It was gorgeous.
Ginny looked at it with big hungry eyes. "Where did you get that?" she asked, her voice sharp and demanding. She tried to grab at it but Taranis held it out of her reach, above her head.
"This is simply an illusion Ginny, this is not your gem. Your gem," Taranis said, as though it wasn’t really hers, "is in Draco’s pocket. You remember he last had it in his hand in the kitchen."
"Yes," Ginny said, watching the gem sway in the wind.
"What is this Ginny?" he asked in a sad voice.
"It’s mine," she replied, never taking her eyes off of it.
"No" This time a little more forceful, "Whose is it?"
"It’s mine," she repeated, trying to grab it again.
Taranis bent down on his hunches to be a little more in her eye-line. "You’re letting the easy answer come out," he told her, in a quiet voice. "Fight that. Search for the answer behind the answer." He held out the gem in his two cupped hands. "Whose is this?" he asked one last time.
Ginny lifted her hand and hovered it over the gem, as though trying to get a feel for the vibe the gem would be letting off. She hesitated for a long time before whispering, "Maeve’s."
"You are right," Taranis told her. "This is not yours, it is Maeve’s."
"How… Why…?" Ginny asked, a bit agape at the possibility. Was this used to hurt her rather than help her? If that was the case, what was the sword for?
"When Maeve and I first… learned about you and Draco, that you two would be the chosen ones for which would right the balance of the universe, we--" he cut himself off for a minute, trying to organise his thoughts so they would make sense. "We needed to lead you to the sword," he said, resuming his explanation. "This sword," he added, picking it up from Ginny’s hand to hold it for a minute. He looked at it in great detail, running his nail over the edge; testing its sharpness and strength. "This sword is meant for you and Draco. It is a sword of purity. It hurts whatever is not pure; whatever has been harmful to others and the world. Gods are pure in their own right, even Maeve is pure, for all she has done. Because we cannot be anything but.
"We knew we needed to lead you to the sword, but I could not think of a way to get you to Lucius’ study without coming to you in a dream and explaining it all. As it is, we were not supposed to meddle in affairs. Our involvement in you and Draco was supposed to be as little as possible; we were merely to help you by leaving clues. Maeve came to me and explained to me that she would take care of the sword. She told me of a gem, that would reveal a secret--that of the sword--whenever it was held by either of the chosen two. She promised me she would get it to you without you figuring it out it was her handing it over to you. I believe that she came to you in the shape of a unicorn, in one of your first dreams. I crafted this especially for you and Draco to use." He placed it in her hand again. "You will use it, I hope. I created it for your purpose."
Ginny took it from Taranis and winced when her hand flashed again with pain. It was like she had slapped a hard brick wall as fast as she could. "If we are to use it, why does it hurt my hand when I hold it?" Ginny asked, getting used to the tingling sensation.
"You are not pure, Virginia." He looked into her eyes and she understood. "You have sins on your soul that will never be erased. However, much of you kindness and friendship have erased the smaller sins. But there is one that could not ever be banished; nothing short of a miracle could do that."
Ginny nodded, biting her lip. Yes, that mark would forever be upon her soul. She knew to what he referred. "So…" she said quietly. More quiet than she meant; she cleared her throat and tried again. "So, what does the sword have to do with Maeve?"
"When Maeve and I were first aware of this need to help you, I trusted her. She was my companion, and through and through, I had hardly seen evil from her. She also has sins on her souls, intentional sins, yet I had never heard of them before Donn told me. She was not to be trusted; I found out too late. The jealousy she carries inside for you--"
"Maeve? She’s jealous of me!?" Ginny asked, interrupting Taranis. "What could she possibly be jealous of. I’m a mortal, she’s a goddess."
"But you have another mortal, I can see," Taranis said, looking right at her shoulder. "There is a mark of love there."
"Draco?" Ginny asked. "Maeve is jealous of me because of Draco?" She laughed, a hollow, empty laugh; full of pain. "Draco and I…" Ginny tried to say, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t force herself to say what she knew was happening to them. It wasn’t possible and she didn’t want to believe it. Still.
"Do not be so sad, child," Taranis said, taking her hand which did not hold the sword. "Life on earth is heaven, if you let it. Love is one of the most beautiful things you will ever experience. Do not think it is so fleeting." He touched her cheek, softly, as though to heal all her pains. Ginny tried to smile.
After a silence, Ginny said, thoughtfully, "So that’s why she tried to kill me."
"She tried to kill you?" Taranis said sharply. "Mios dio, I did not know." He looked murderous. "When did this happen?"
How did he not know? Ginny wondered. He had seen the scar on her shoulder, perhaps not visible now to humans, but visible to him. "A few nights ago…" she said.
"Dieu! I am sorry you had to experience that. I merely thought the scar was from some childhood pain… Maeve is such a--"
"Bitch?" Ginny supplied gleefully.
"I am not to say that," Taranis said, eyes full of mirth. "But it would be against myself to cry against such an accusation."
Ginny laughed. She felt better here; the sky was high and bright from the sun, she felt safe with Taranis and it was slowly all making sense. Looking down at the sword, Ginny finally understood what this was all about. She and Draco had to destroy Voldemort, using this. To preserve the universal balance. She weighed it in her hand. Would she be strong enough and brave enough to do this? And when would this happen?
"Do not question those things yet," Taranis said, as though knowing her thoughts. "You have more than a moon cycle before that time has to come. We need you to be healthy and ready, and there is ample time for that."
"Thank you," Ginny said, looking up at him and remembering, remembering how he had kissed her all those nights ago in those dreams. Her lips tingled.
"Now," Taranis said, not looking into her eyes. Again, Ginny had the feeling he could hear her thoughts. "Would you like something to eat? There is to be a grand feast tonight in your favour. You’ve made it part-way; you have the sword."
"I would love to," Ginny said, suddenly realising how hungry she was. Taranis smiled and took her hand, leading her away from the grassy fields and into the forest.
***
Draco stood watching the Dark Lord murmur a few things to the Death Eater besides him, who nodded. It was odd to know that he was standing directly across from the man thousands of powerful wizards were afraid of; afraid to mention his name. The Dark Lords eyes were half-closed, and his nostrils flared. His face was red from the fire that burned in the centre of the group.
Lucius was taking a long time; it worried the group. They were all restless and tittered nervously. Was it not for the sharp glances the Dark Lord sent each one that fidgeted, they would probably be whispering, wondering. Draco resisted the urge to yawn. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be back with Ginny. He dangerously let himself think about her, about her smile, her smell, the feel of her skin. He wished her could be back in that bed, just holding her. Touching her fire-red hair and whispering something he suddenly felt the urge to say. Three little words. He knew how much she meant to him—but would he let himself admit that to her? Or should he hold it in? He did not know. He did not know how to go about those sorts of things. He never, had never, felt the urge to tell someone something so much.
"DRACO!" His name was suddenly screamed with so much raw fury and rage, it could only be Lucius. Turning around, Draco looked at Lucius with one eyebrow raised. "A word," his father said, and turned around to go out in the hall. Draco stood rooted on the spot—he had a sinking feeling in his stomach this had something to do with Ginny. Oh gods, please don’t let her be hurt.
"Well." A voice said from behind him, "follow him, boy." It was the Dark Lord. His voice sounded oddly smoky and tired. "Go!" Draco nodded, a sort of bow and turned around and walked into the hall, shutting the door behind him
"What is she doing here?" his father said, grabbing his cloak and slamming Draco up against the wall. Draco’s head made a sickening thud against the wall, but he wouldn’t allow his father the satisfaction of seeing him wince. He gritted his teeth. "Answer me. What is that little—little Weasley tramp doing here?"
"What?" Draco said, in a bored voice, deciding he mustn’t let his father know he knew at all costs.
"Little Ginny Weasley," Lucius said, practically singing her name, "was in my study. Only you would know where my study is that would even have a remotest of connections to her."
"And… therefore…" he looked at his father, one eyebrow raised, drawing out each word as though he was talking to a small child. "You… think I’d know why?"
The blow hit Draco so hard he instantly felt blood on the inside of his mouth. Slowly turning his back towards his father, he raised a hand to touch his cheek.
"Don’t you dare talk to me like that ever again, boy." Lucius practically spat in his face. His voice was dangerously low. "I hope that for your sake you are speaking the truth. Now go get the little girl and bring her to me. She disappeared into fire." He grabbed the collar of Draco’s cloak and threw him down onto the hallway floor. "Bring her to me, you hear? Alive. Or perhaps you won’t be as lucky."
Draco looked up at his father with hooded eyes and after a moment’s silence, replied, "Yes, father. As you wish."
Lucius nodded and entered the room where the group was congregating. Draco pulled himself up from the floor and turned his back to the door.
"Asshole," he whispered to himself, gingerly touching his cheek. "You’ll see." And with that, he disappeared into the darkness to go find Ginny and get her the hell out of the here.
***
"Get away from me, you peasant!" Maeve snarled at her cousin. She grabbed at her robes and tried to stop her cousin from touching the finest of silks. Oh, how she hated Donn for doing this to her. Sending her back to her people, it was simply horrid. She couldn’t sleep on these coarse bed sheets, nor could she stand the food or the wine. Everything was just too much or not enough. These people thought they lived in luxury? She dared not to laugh.
"But Maeve—" her cousin tried to plead with her.
"Be gone! BE GONE!" Maeve screamed, picking up the vile wine vase and tossing it at the offender. The peasant ran, almost getting hit with the wine as they dove out of the tent. Fuming, Maeve got up and walked the length of the tent and then back again. She felt like a trapped tiger—pacing didn’t help; it added to the fury she felt. She gritted her teeth, clenching her fists. Oh, how could she get out of here? There was no way back. No way that she knew of. Yet, there must be a way, as she had to have left somehow when her mother had taken her away from this vile place. And for good reason. This was a barren land of poverty and ugliness. Her mother had every sense to leave her father here and go onto a life of luxury and fun.
But Maeve was stuck. She didn’t know of the portal that led back to the real Sídhes.
"Argh!" she screamed, letting her fury and hatred get the best of her. Grabbing her sword, she began swinging it in mad, powerful circles hitting everything she could. Jugs of wine, platters of food, fine china burst into tears of shards. The sound was satisfying and crunching on them as she walked was even better.
They would pay so very dearly once she was out. Especially that little one. Oh, especially that little one. She would see that she would never love again.
***
Author’s Note #2: As this will be the last update before OotP comes out, I just want to say I will be continuing with this story as is no matter what happens in the book and I hope you’ll keep reading!
Special Thanks to:
wm_law, ChrisMiss (What a lovely long review!), Allie (The same for you—amazing review. I enjoyed it immensely!), ~*The Blue Faerie*~, Luna Writer, Aerial, jay-chan, Stacca, Ezmerelda, you-know-who (So, what did you think?), ElfinKat, The Blue Faerie (Are there two of you?) , Becca(<3), TrinitYMalfoY527, EvilPumpkin'-', MYSTIQUE, StrangerWithMyFace (hee!).
Every single one of you are very dear to my heart. Thank you so much for reviewing.
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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.