Chapter Two
Draco was still trying to come to his senses when he said:
“What kind of sick joke is that?”
She sighed heavily, her tears running down her cheeks. “I’ve been
cursed… I don’t know how everything happened yet, but my mother and my father
are coming to Hogwarts this week to explain everything to me…” He just stared
at her “All I know is that I will die unless I marry my family’s worst enemy…”
She waited a long time for an answer, but after several minutes all
she got was silence. She was preparing to say something when she heard him
laugh. His cruel and cold laugh; the Malfoy signature. She couldn’t even
describe how much she hated that.
“Oh, Weasel, that is the worst joke I’ve ever heard, but it was
funny, I’m telling you…”
She looked at him, too shocked to speak.
“You think that’s funny?” she said after a while, her tears drying
as her anger consumed her. “What is so funny about it? Is it the fact that I am
now in your hands? Or maybe it’s because the idea is so inconceivable that it
seems like a fairytale?”
He looked at her with mocking eyes, watching her outburst.
“I laughed, too, until I read my mother’s letter again and decided
to talk to Professor Dumbledore. He knows everything now, and your parents were
called, too…”
“My mother.”
“What?”
“If they called anyone, they called my mother, not my parents,” he
said, his voice now showing a badly-hidden hate.
She felt very bad for saying what she had. Everyone knew his father
was dead, and had died at the hands of Voldemort.
That was the only reason all their fortune hadn’t been confiscated
by the Ministry. Even being Lucius Malfoy, one of the greatest Voldemort
followers, the fact that he had died by his master’s hands and not on one of
his dark jobs gave the family that privilege.
But it didn’t matter; of course, their pain had been great. Although
Lucius was hated by most of the wizards who knew him, he was Draco’s father. A
father he seemed to worship and respect more than love.
“Did your mother mention when they are coming to discuss this
lunacy?” he said, bringing Ginny back from her thoughts.
“They’re coming on Friday.”
“Friday? But today’s Thursday already!” he shouted, clearly not
happy about being warned so late.
“I couldn’t bring myself to talk to you before… I’m sorry,” she
whispered, not looking at him.
“Well, Weasel, let me tell you a secret,”
he said, getting closer like he was going to tell her something very profound,
“I don’t bite.”
* * *
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