ANTITHETICAL
By Mignonne and Sellene
Summary: Rebelling against an ancient curse will lead to a slow and painful death. Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy are betrothed by an old imprecation, obligating them to be together.
Disclaimer - We do not own Harry Potter. Please don't sue us for writing this fic. Between us, we have like ten bucks and we need to go to college and stuff so.... Most of the characters are OOC anyway.
CHAPTER ONE - In Which The Curse Is Explained
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"Come back..." a wavering call emitted from the shadowy forest.
"I need you." The wispy voice was louder this time strengthening into a familiar tone. "I need you...Come to me...Please..."
Panic rose from the pit of her stomach and her breath came in short breaths. Where was he? She needed to find him for she held knowledge that would save his life. Her head gyrated wildly as the midnight fog clouded her vision. Crickets sang and owls hooted in the still dark night. She spun around in the clearing, unsure of where to go.
"Here," came the whisper once more. Gratefully, she ran towards the flickering light. From out of the mist came the faint outline of a wooden cabin.
"I need you..." the voice was so clear and strong she knew she had arrived at the source.
She threw the door open violently and from the threshold poured glowing rays that warmed her cold body. Harry Potter sat calmly in a large armchair by the fireplace. He stood as she entered, a loving smile on his face. Relieved, she ran to in to his comforting embrace. The flannel of his pajamas rubbed softly against her skin as she buried her face in his chest.
"It was Draco all along!" she cried. "Oh, Harry, we've got to alert Dumbledore."
Abruptly, the door opened with a creaking swing and the fair-haired villain entered the desolate room. Her emerald-eyed paladin stood stoically in place.
"Do something, Harry!" Ginny screamed to no avail. The raven-haired hero was rooted to his spot as Draco Malfoy paced forward. In pure panic, Ginny grabbed her silver knife and sent it flying into evil's heart.
Horror wove itself across her face as the blonde hair turned to black and the gray eyes to green. In the villain's place stood Harry, a knife embedded in his chest.
She whirled around to where her hero had stood. In his place was Draco Malfoy, guffawing satanically.
"Yes, it was me all along but who killed your precious Potter?" Another fit of cold laughter erupted from his throat. Ginny sank to the ground in silent shock as blood flooded the floor, pooling around them. The thick crimson liquid slowly rose, drenching the three figures in the room. Devil red poured around Ginny, pricking her, choking her, cutting her. Suddenly, she was drowning. Desperately fighting for life, she swam up to the top of the cabin, gasping in breath. The blood continued to rise until all she saw was dark vermilion slowly eating away at her soul. The deafening roar of the blood crashed in waves against the cabin walls and the nauseating stench consumed her senses. The thick redness faded into a dark void. All that was left was icy Malfoy eyes piercing her heart.
Ginny Weasley awoke with a gasp. She scanned her surroundings wildly, trying to rid her mind of the boring image of Draco Malfoy's pulpils. Running a hand through wavy red locks, she willed herself to forget the abstract nightmare and gazed out the rain-covered windows of the Hogwarts Express headed towards her sixth year of school. The red velvet seats contrasted sharply against the day's dreary weather.
It seemed not long ago that she was on the same train, eager to be home for the summer. The summer that should have been great, a relaxing period in which she could recover from the stressful horror of the fifth year final exams. For the first few weeks, that's exactly what she did: relax. Her new best friend, Yvette even came to stay at the Burrow for three weeks.
It had been hard going back to Hogwarts after such a disastrous first year. Many students avoided the girl who opened the Chamber of Secrets. She was never completely lonely, but she also never had a true best friend, the kind to confess her soul to. Ginny had drifted from friend to friend for many years before Yvette Delacour transferred from Beauxbatons and befriended her without reservation. Ginny was grateful to have Yvette as a friend, but it was awful to always be in her shadow, for Yvette was part veela.
Ginny sighed. No boy would notice a normal girl next to a veela. On to her next problem: boys. Following Harry Potter like a puppy for five years kills a girl's love life. Now that Harry and Hermione confirmed what Ginny always suspected by becoming a couple, she vowed to move on. Ginny sighed once more, wondering where Yvette had wandered off to.
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Meanwhile, on another part of the Hogwarts express, a game of cat and mouse had ensued.
The sound of Pansy Parkinson's voice intensified by each passing second. "Draco? Draco honey, where did you go?"
Draco muttered a silent prayer for escape, darting into the nearest seat facing away from Pansy's direction. She wandered past him, still calling his name. He sank down into the plush cushions, exhaling a breath of relief. However, when he turned to the seat next to him, he was met by Virginia Weasley's profile. She didn't acknowledge his presence, turning away instead. Seeing her sent his summer crashing down on him.
************
Draco hurried through the dank halls of the Malfoy Mansion towards his father's study where Lucius often lectured him on Malfoy family history, among other things. Draco prepared himself as he pushed open one of the double doors to the room. He dreaded with all his heart this particular lecture for it was the final week of summer and every year, this lecture was always horrendously long and vicious, punctuated with many sharp insults and sometimes even sharper blows.
"You're late," Lucius Malfoy coldly greeted his son. "Seems you've finally decided to grace this room with your presence."
"Good evening to you too, Father, " Draco replied.
He stood before Lucius's desk waiting for an invitation to sit.
Though he had been within his father's study walls many times, it still resonated an eerie and unpleasant mood. Tapestries illustrating morbid scenes covered the stone walls and beneath his feet was a soft Persian carpet that blanketed icy, marble tiled floors. Mahogany chairs placed by the large executive desk were made somewhat comfortable with dragon hide cushions. The dim lighting of the fireplace caste dark shadows that danced and flickered on the walls. The only other light source was candles on the antique chandelier that burned low but never burned out. The room was completed by crystal glass cases that displayed magnificent yet dreadful objects of Dark Magic.
"Don't stand there like an idiot, boy!" Lucius Malfoy barked. "Sit."
Draco flopped down in one of the chairs in front of his father's desk, where an icy gray glare, not unlike his own, was pelted at him. Draco quickly straightened his posture.
"Well, boy. Do you know why you're here?"
Before Draco could open his mouth to respond, Lucius answered his own question.
"Everything seems to slip out of the miniscule brain of yours, Draco, at least anything concerning the proud heritage of the Malfoys."
Draco rebelled silently. He knew more than he wanted to about Malfoy ancestry, but he also knew better than to argue.
Since his second year at Hogwarts, Lucius burdened him with extensive assignments, most of which pertained to the dark arts. He read innumerable books with countless pages, wrote infinite essays by candlelight, and even practiced dark magic on rodents. Once in fourth year, he was forced to study muggles to get acquainted with their lifestyle.
"You have to know your enemies," Lucius had said. Without complaint, Draco followed his father's every word as a perfect son would. He didn't dare oppose his father, not since the incident.
Sitting in the study awaiting the lecture's commencement, Draco allowed his mind to wander back to that fateful day, the day when he learned his greatest lesson.
Towards the end of his second year at Hogwarts, Draco rebelled for his first and only time. He had felt overwhelmed with final examinations and the extra obligations his father presented him with were far too cumbersome. At first, he tried to juggle the workload, but in the end he gave in. Grudgingly, he owled home in protest, expecting a fierce howler the next morning. Instead the long list of assignments simply stopped, flooding him with relief.
Upon the arrival of summer vacation, Draco eagerly hurried home to show Lucius his final report card. He had placed within the top five of the class in every subject and-
His trance of remembrance was interrupted as his father began the lecture.
"Many generations ago, the Malfoy family was involved with an ongoing feud with upstart serfs. An extremely powerful wizard was caught between the two and was fatally injured. On his deathbed, he caste a spell, cursing both families."
Draco had mastered the skill of shutting out his Lucius's voice while keeping an attentive mien. He mentally closed his eyes and continued to replay the old memory as the lecture droned on.
Arriving home on that eventful day, he had rushed into the parlor to greet his parents. He barely made it into the room before Lucius seized hold of him and dragged him down into the dungeons.
Despite fervent protests from Draco, Lucius violently jerked him into the cold jail underneath the main castle, chaining him to a bloodstained wall. By then Draco was in tears, which enraged Lucius even more.
"Why are you crying, boy?" he had snarled. "A child of mine would never cry." With that, Lucius stormed out of the room and shut the door.
Draco had sat in the darkness, his father's livid voice still echoing in his ears. Even recollecting of the ferocious hostility in his tone sent chills up Draco's spine. Though Lucius wasn't a gentle and warm man who embraced his family with kindness, he had never been abusive, at least not before his son's eyes.
In the dungeons Draco sat, the frigid air and empty darkness drilling into his spirit. He rarely cried, even as a small child, but the tears flowed freely then, like pebbles tumbling down a cliff in an earthquake. He thought his father would be proud of his marks, so why did he lock him up?
Draco had suspected Lucius would hold a foul disposition after another plan to revive Voldemort had failed, but that wasn't his fault. When the tears had finally stopped, Draco hugged his knees to his chest in despair. Then it all clicked: Lucius was angry because Draco had complained about the extra homework assignments.
To Draco, Lucius had always been the perfect role model. He admired his father's commanding presence and position in the ministry. He admired his ruthless climb to power and his place of prominence in the dark lord's eyes. But on that day in his thirteenth year of life, Draco Malfoy was disillusioned. He was chained in the dark room for two days without food, water, or any human contact before the dungeon door creaked open.
"Don't you dare defy me ever again!" His father's ireful holler still resonated fiercely in his mind. "I was busy with the dark lord's plans for resurrection, and I was considerate enough to think of you! But what do you do? You refuse to learn about the dark arts. You write a letter home, whining! Well, listen here. If you even think about disobeying me again, I'll disown you, leave you on the streets like I would a worthless mudblood."
It was then that Draco understood. He may have seen Lucius as a father, but Lucius certainly didn't see him as a son. In Lucius's eyes, he was nothing but an object to be molded, another weapon to fashion for the dark lord. Draco did obey his father since his brief imprisonment. Perhaps Lucius intended the punishment to be another step in chiseling away Draco's independence, but it only awakened him from the mirage, it only pushed his spirit out of his father's grasp forever.
"They would be united by the marriage of a Malfoy male to a commoner's daughter," Lucius spat, as Draco awakened himself from his thoughts. His father carried on the speech without halting. "Xavier Malfoy refused to accept this and tried to reverse the curse. After many years he successfully completed one of the most awesome spells of all time. Your glorious ancestor insured that the marriage would occur far into the future, for both families would have only sons, giving the Malfoys time to rise to power." he paused. Draco roused himself enough to look appreciative. Lucius continued much to Draco's astonishment. On other days, Draco would have been locked up for daydreaming but not today.
"For centuries the serf family had only son after son. Unfortunately even now there is no reversal to the ancient curse. Xavier Malfoy tried to save our family with his spell, but the serf family has had a daughter."
Draco stared into his father's silvery eyes, seeing a reflection of himself in his pupils. Draco sensed that Lucius was anticipating a response of some sort. He snapped into reality, suddenly aware of the seriousness embedded in the situation.
"Would I be correct in assuming that I'm the Malfoy son who has to marry the serf's female descendant?"
Lucius snorted. "That would be quite obvious."
Draco said nothing. He stared back into his father's cold eyes, trying to believe he didn't mean to radiate such animosity. However, over the years of being a Death Eater and a practitioner of Dark Arts, it seemed to Draco that that was the only kind of aura Lucius could emit.
"Well, boy? Aren't you’re a least bit interested in learning the name of the wench you must marry?" he continued after a long silence.
"Yes, father," Draco replied almost automatically. After a moment of thought, he added, "But first, what would happen if I refuse marry her?"
"The consequences of disobeying the curse of a powerful wizard is a slow and painful death to all involved." The bitterness was obvious in Lucius's tone.
"Slow and painful death...fun," Draco thought sarcastically. He displayed no signs of emotion. In truth, he didn't hate "commoners" as much as Lucius would have liked but to marry one because of an ancient curse seemed rather demeaning to one with Malfoy blood.
"I want you to know that you have no decision to make in this arrangement. You will marry the girl whether you want to or not," Lucius said, leaning over his desk so that his face nearly touched Draco's.
"Who is she?"
"Weasley. Virginia Weasley."
Draco pictured Ginny Weasley, trying to remember her face. All he could remember was some idiotic poem she made up about Potter.
"That's the girl I'm going to marry," he thought. He always knew that Lucius would have a say in his choice of marriage, but an arranged one was unexpected, even from his father. Draco came out of his reverie and stared at the back of Ginny's head.
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END OF CHAPTER ONE
Okay, that's it. That's chapter one of our fic. We already have chapter two done. It's a lot longer and things actually happen. But we're not posting it until we get reviews. Understand? So click on the button below and submit to your heart's content. We thank you in advance for you submission, because we know you will. *wink, wink* ^_^
^_~ Sellene and Mignonne ~_^
This is the edited version of chapter one. Thanks to constructive criticism from one of our reviewers (BlackBandit), we've decided to improve the Draco/Lucius scene. Let us know what you think about the new version, by reviewing! We love reviews and really appreciate your imput. Thank you to all the people that have already reviewed. We love you.
BTW, I'm posting this without Mignonne's consent, so if the new version sucks, it's not her fault. She hasn't even read it yet. Understand, it has not been beta-read or anything. Hope it wasn't too confusing to read. I'm writing slightly late at night, so my thoughts aren't entirely coherent. I think I might have over-dramatized. Oh well. It's all good.
~ Sellene
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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.