Disclaimer: It all belongs to JK Rowling.

 

A/N: Special thanks, as always, to Christine for beta reading this for me :)      

 

 

Chapter Twelve

Into the Snake Pit 

 

 

Ginny thought she’d fall right to sleep that night, but she didn’t. Maybe it was because she’d slept all day, or because she kept replaying the scene with Draco on her front porch over and over in her mind. Either way, she felt wide awake and finally threw off the covers and went downstairs for something to drink.

    She crept silently passed the living room where Draco was sleeping on the couch. In the kitchen, she smiled to herself, remembering the reaction of her family when she’d told them Draco Malfoy was going to be staying in their house. In the end, Mr. Weasley managed to calm them all down, though nothing could stop the murderous looks they threw at Draco when he came inside.

    Ginny had to admire Draco, for he didn’t appear affected at all. He ignored them, thanking Mr. Weasley coolly for letting him stay, complimenting Mrs. Weasley on her soup that had been given to him for dinner. And he hadn’t even whispered one nasty thing about Ginny’s family to her when no one else was listening.

    It was a miracle.

    Ginny reached up and grabbed a glass out of the cabinet, then turned and used her magic to get the milk from the refrigerator. Leaning back against the counter, she held the glass in her hand as the bewitched milk jug poured its contents in, then went right back into the refrigerator without Ginny’s help. With another tap of her wand, the milk was warm.

    Warm milk always calmed her nerves, especially after she had nightmares. And it seemed she had been living in a huge nightmare for months. Sipping thoughtfully, she began to think things over.

    Now that she was out of immediate danger – though she wasn’t sure how long it would take Lucius to get out of Muggle jail and have the Ministry looking for her again – she needed to figure out how to clear her name.

    What she needed to do was prove that the Veratiserum had been tampered with. Though she had no idea how to do it. If Lucius were smart, he would’ve destroyed all the evidence, which he’d probably done.

    She’d need Draco’s help, definitely, if she hoped to get into Malfoy Manor undetected. He’d so much as refused to help her a few days ago, but she had a feeling things had changed between them…

    She instantly got goose flesh thinking about him, and the way his lips felt on hers. The way his hands traveled up and down her body, how his fingers seemed to penetrate through her clothes –

    Ginny shook her head, forcing the images out of her mind. You’ll never fall asleep if you keep thinking about him, she scolded herself.

    And yet she found herself carrying her glass of warm milk into the family room where Draco was sleeping on the couch. For a moment, she stood beside the sofa, staring down at him. He was sleeping soundly, breathing evenly, and Ginny couldn’t blame him, for he probably hadn’t gotten a decent night’s sleep in a while.

    Ginny sighed deeply. God, he’s beautiful, she thought. Though she couldn’t help but notice even in sleep, his eyebrows were furrowed together like he was thinking hard about something unpleasant. Without thinking she reached down to gently brush some stray hair away from his forehead, and jumped nearly a mile when he shifted position in response to the brush of her fingers, managing to spill warm milk all down the front of her camisole.

    Mumbling under her breath, she quickly left the room before he woke up and found her there.

    Back in the kitchen, she wiped the front of her shirt with a rag, still muttering to herself. “Of all the things…such a prat…oh, idiot, I should be using my wand, not a bloody rag –”

    “Ginny?” came a drawling, amused voice. She could hint slight thickness, showing he’d just gotten out of a deep sleep.

    Instantly she knew who it was, and lifted her head up quickly. She opened her mouth to reply when she noticed he was not wearing a shirt. Something she hadn’t noticed when he’d been under the blanket on the couch.

    For a moment, she just stared, her eyes running over his hairless chest down to his smooth stomach, before she managed to snap out of it. “What?” she croaked.

    He was smirking at her, clearly aware of how she was gaping. “I’ll wait until you put your eyeballs back in,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe. His hair was slightly tousled, and he looked adorable.

    Her awe turned into anger, and she threw the rag onto the counter. Ginny, you’ve grown up with boys. You’ve seen over half a dozen shirtless before, she scolded herself, annoyed at her reaction.

    “I was thirsty,” she said, feeling the need to explain. “I wanted some milk.”

    “Okay.”

    “I thought you were sleeping.”

    “I was.”

    “You woke up?”

    “Obviously.”

    “Oh.” Now she felt stupid, and quickly turned her back to clear her glass from the counter, cheeks burning. She could feel him staring at her as she put the glass in the sink and returned the towel to its rack.

    “Why aren’t you asleep?”

    “I couldn’t,” she admitted, searching for something to do to keep her eyes averted from his. But there was nothing, and she ended up turning back around to face him, trying to keep her gaze on his and not his chest. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, his arms were crossed. “I was thinking.”

    “Something new and different.”

    “I think I know how to clear my name.”

    “Then let’s hear it.”

    She frowned, pressing her lips into a line. “I’ll need your help.”

    “Doesn’t everybody,” Draco remarked dryly, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling. He seemed to be very interested in it as he continued, “I’m the first person everybody goes to for help.”

    “Don’t be a git, Draco.”

    “No. That’s your brother’s job.”

    “Aren’t you going to listen to my idea?”

    “Of course. Whatever gave you the idea that I wasn’t going to listen?”

    His tone was sarcastic, and it bothered Ginny to a great extent. But she sighed and stated calmly, “We’ll go to your house.”

    Draco’s smirk diminished and the corners of his mouth drooped down into a frown. “I thought we’ve been over this, Weasley.”

    “Draco, it’s the only way,” Ginny said firmly.

    “And just what do you expect to find at my house?” he demanded. “My father’s no idiot – he’s gotten rid of everything that hinted in the first place that he tampered with the Veritaserum. You’ll only succeed in getting yourself killed –”

    “If I don’t do anything then I’ll get myself killed,” Ginny fired back. “At least by going to your house I’ll die trying to get my name cleared, and there’s a chance I might even come out alive. Staying here doing nothing guarantees my death, or at least my imprisonment.”

    He stared at her long and hard for a while, and when he spoke his tone was low. “I don’t see what you’re going to accomplish going to my house.”

    She opened her mouth to reply, but then realized that she wasn’t all what she hoped to accomplish, either. What did she expect to find there? There would be no evidence. But then again, it would probably be the last place Lucius would expect them to be; in his very own home.

    Yet it would be dangerous, because obviously someone would see them. Someone in the house, like Narcissa Malfoy, had to be loyal to Lucius and would certainly inform him in a heartbeat that he or she saw Ginny Weasley walking around Malfoy Manor. Not to mention that Lucius himself just might be there at some point.

    Of course, I could borrow Harry’s Invisibility Cloak, she thought, a smile spreading across her face. That way I can sneak around the manor without anyone knowing.

    “What?” Draco asked, narrowing his eyes.

    “What, what?”

    “You’re smiling.”

    “I have an idea,” she said, the plan beginning to form in her mind. “But I’ll need your help, of course.”

    “Of course,” he echoed sardonically.

* * *

They left the next evening after everyone had gone to bed.

    Ginny felt slightly guilty about leaving without telling her family, for she knew they would worry about her. Her mother got nervous when Ginny even suggested going upstairs by herself, much less leaving the house. She would never let her go, and she wasn’t sure if she had the strength to resist her mother. After all, she didn’t really want to leave. She would be satisfied just climbing into bed and never leaving again, but she knew if she hoped to stay home for the rest of her life then she’d have to do something about it.

    In the end, though, Ginny ended up leaving a brief note, just so her parents would know she left out of her own free will. She left it on the kitchen table, and was sure not to let Draco see it.

    And then they left.

    This time, flying with Draco on his broomstick was more comfortable. At first she was a little hesitant to hold him tightly, but then he snapped, “You’re gonna fall off if you don’t hold on,” and she gripped his waist firmly.

    The flight was uneventful and boring, even though the gnawing feeling in Ginny’s stomach constantly reminded her of the dangerous task that lay ahead. Tied firmly to the broom behind her was Harry’s Invisibility Cloak, and it was only a small source of comfort. Even being pressed up against Draco couldn’t calm her nerves, though she wasn’t complaining about being close to him. At one point she found herself pressing her face into his hair and breathing in deeply, and felt Draco stiffen in her arms. Embarrassed, she’d quickly pulled her head back and returned her mind to what was going to happen.

    A few hours before dawn the reached Draco’s mansion, and even though it was made of gray stone and the sky was pitch black, Ginny could tell it made her house seem like an outhouse. When they landed on the dark front lawn, she kept close to Draco, afraid that something would jump out of the shadows.

    At the front door Ginny gripped the silky Invisibility Cloak in her hands tightly, and whispered to Draco, “Should we both wear the cloak?”

    He nodded shortly. “For now, yes,” he replied.

    Ginny draped the cloak over the both of them, and then Draco reached out and opened the door.

    Inside, the front foyer was large and absolutely silent. There was no sound that anybody was in the house, no clanking of pots, no voices from the radio. Ginny found herself holding her breath as they quietly made their way across the foyer, their soft footsteps echoing rather loudly on the gray tile.

    The mansion was quite confusing, and after a while Ginny gave up trying to remember where they were. Draco, however, seemed to know exactly where they were going, and even seemed to know that a house-elf would be loitering around the corridor that would lead directly to their destination, and decided to take a different route.

    About three minutes later, they reached Lucius Malfoy’s office, and after Draco locked the door behind them, threw off the Invisibility Cloak. Ginny straightened and looked around the cold, bland room. It was surprisingly messy, with papers scattered everywhere on the desk and books lying in random places on the shelves. She would’ve expected only neatness from Lucius.

    Draco seemed to notice her surprised and grinned, as if reading her mind. “Father doesn’t allow anyone in here,” he said. “Not even the house-elves to clean.”

    “So is this it?” Ginny asked, walking up to one of the bookshelves and inspecting the spines. “This is where your dad made the Veritaserum?”

    “No, not here,” Draco said, and walked over to a life-sized portrait. It was obviously a painting of some old Malfoy, for he had the fine white-blond hair and icy gray eyes, but it wasn’t anyone Ginny recognized. It watched as Draco approached and growled, “Password?”

    “Infinite elixirum,” Draco said clearly. The huge painting swung forward, revealing a dark staircase leading downward.

    Ginny hurried to Draco’s side. “Just a password?” she demanded, peering into the pitch black hole. “That’s it? Anyone could manage to get it from the painting.”

    Draco smirked at her. “If anyone but three select people said that password then old Jonathan Malfoy would’ve jumped out of the painting and stabbed them to death.”

    Ginny stared for a moment, allowing the information to sink in. “Literally?”

    Draco nodded seriously, his smirk fading. “I swear. My dad has it bewitched so my great-great grandfather could come back solid enough to stab someone. If you looked closely you could see the knife hilt in his belt. It’s pretty brilliant, actually.”

    “Who’s the other?”

    “Other what?”

    “You said only three people could use the password and live,” Ginny reminded him. “You, obviously, are one of them and you’re father clearly is the other. Who’s the third?”

    “Voldemort,” he said with a short shrug like it should’ve been the most apparent thing.

    “Would your dad have changed the password once…well, once he found out you were helping me?” she inquired.

    “No,” Draco said curtly. “Probably thought he could torture me back into his good graces before I ever stepped foot into this house again. Now come on, before Jonathan swings shut.”

    Ginny resisted the urge to reach for his hand as he stepped in first through the opening. She took a deep breath and followed him in. No sooner had she moved did the portrait swing shut behind her with a thud, cloaking them in darkness.

    She swallowed a shriek, ordering herself to calm down. Draco’s with you. Lucius is still in Muggle jail…hopefully. You’re safe, she thought, trying to reassure herself. It didn’t help much, and she heard Draco fumble for his wand.

    “Lumos,” he whispered, and the tip of his wand lit up. “Don’t trip,” he ordered at her over his shoulder, and then started to descend.

    Ginny knew his command hadn’t been out of concern; at least, not for her. The staircase was very narrow and steep, and if she tripped them she’d fall right into him, causing him to topple over and they’d roll the rest of the way down. She reached out her arms and pressed her hands against the walls, as there were no railings, to keep her balance as she followed behind him.

    The temperature dropped as they went deeper and deeper underneath the house, and the smell of dirt and musty air reached her nostrils. It seemed to take forever, and as far as Draco’s light reached, the end of the stairs was nowhere near.

    “Does your father have a chamber miles beneath the house?” she grumbled, feeling annoyed at how far they were having to walk.

    “We’re not even close yet,” Draco replied over his shoulder. “The stairs is the easy part.”

    He didn’t elaborate, and Ginny was too afraid of what she’d hear if she asked him to.

    This is crazy, she thought. Why did I have to come here? It’ll take us weeks just to reach where Draco wants us to go, and even then we probably won’t find what we want. Hell, I’m not even sure what I’m looking for that I want.

    Finally, the stairs ended, straightening out flat into a long tunnel.

    “This is where you have to stay close,” Draco said, pausing and not bothering to turn his head to look at her. “When this was built it was modeled after the vaults under Gringotts.”

    “So you mean if I get lost I could wander around down here until I die?” Ginny asked, involuntarily stepping closer to him.

    “Exactly. So stay close,” he repeated, then reached back his hand. “Here.”

    It took Ginny a moment to realize she wanted him to take it, and she could feel her cheeks burning as she slipped her smaller hand into his comfortably larger one. His fingers were cold, but he held on to her firmly. The feel of him caused shivers to run up her spine and her stomach to plunge ever so slightly. Why did she feel like this when Draco touched her? Even back when she’d been madly in love with Harry and he’d accidentally brush his arm against hers she didn’t felt so light-headed – just clumsy and awkward, normally dropping whatever she was holding, tripping over her robes, or blushing bright red.

    Was something happening between them? She’d snogged him on her front porch, but that could’ve just been from racing hormones, or at the relief of being alive and having a totally hot guy at her fingertips, willing to kiss her back. Yet she felt her toes curl whenever he glanced at her with un-Malfoyish warmth in his eyes, and more often than not she actually felt comfortable around him. Happy, almost. After he’d first kissed her she’d had a large desire to grin stupidly, but the abruptness of the end of the kiss and Harry’s arrival had ruled out that urge.

    Ginny frowned, feeling the start of a headache. Here she was, once again in a precarious situation, and all she could think about was Draco.

* * *

Draco tried to focus on finding his way around in the tunnels underneath his house. His father had been bringing him down here for as long as he could remember – probably before he could even walk – and he knew the way pretty well. Only he hadn’t been down in a few months, so there was always the nagging in the pit of his stomach reminding him he could accidentally take a wrong turn, and they’d end up wandering until they died of starvation.

    And holding Ginny’s hand wasn’t helping his concentration. She was soft, and warm, and he kept remembering the breathtaking kiss – or, rather, several kisses – they’d had on her front porch.

    This is insane, he thought, scowling slightly. I’m totally falling for a Weasley. I’ve been falling for a Weasley.

    What surprised him the most, though, was that he really didn’t mind. He tried to make himself care, tried to scold himself for liking her, but deep down it didn’t matter. He’d snogged girls before, had touched them before, but no one felt as good or as right as Ginny did. Her body seemed to mold perfectly with his, her lips melt with his. Just thinking about her lips gave him goose bumps, and he rarely got goose bumps.

    All right, Draco, concentrate, he ordered himself.

    “God, it takes nearly an hour just to get there,” Ginny muttered under her breath.

    “We’ve barely been going ten minutes,” Draco replied sharply with a smirk.

    “Where are we going, anyway?” she demanded, nearly jogging to keep up with his long strides.

    “To where my father made the Veritaserum,” he said.

    “No kidding, Draco,” she said sarcastically and somewhat snappishly. “But where exactly?”

    “To my father’s potion lab,” he told her in a tone just as annoyed. “You get cranky in the cold, don’t you?”

    “I’m just irritated,” she grumbled. “I’m tired of walking – I want to get this over with!”

    He honestly couldn’t blame her. Yet they were close, for he’d already passed the spot where he’d outlined his hand in Muggle chalk when he was five, showing they were taking the right tunnels. His father had never noticed the handprint for some odd reason – maybe because it was so close to the floor and the tunnel being so narrow, his robes just swept by it and hid it from view.

    A minute later, they turned the final corner to face a heavy door at the end of the corridor. He heard Ginny mumble something like, “Finally” and released her hand, stepping forward to the knob. He twisted and pulled, finding it was locked.

    “Funny, he never locks this,” Draco said under his breath, but Ginny apparently didn’t hear him. He pointed his wand and whispered, “Alohomora.”

    The door clicked, unlocking, and opened. Draco went in first, and as Ginny stepped in behind him, he was already lighting the candles with a swish of his wand. Soon the medium-sized room was lit with flickering candlelight, revealing the coldness and dreariness of the stone walls and floor. It was even worse than the Hogwarts Potions dungeon because it looked like it hadn’t been used in a while. Dust coated the vials and the couple of large black cauldrons thickly, giving it the effect of having been abandoned or forgotten.

    “Looks like he hasn’t been down here since he made my Veritaserum,” Ginny mused softly, stepping further into the room. Draco shut the door behind them while she went over to inspect the single bookshelf. “Maybe there’s a book here…”

    “If anything in here gives away that he tampered with the Veritaserum, it would be in a book,” Draco agreed, and joined her by her side. Together they began to scan, looking for anything that would help them.

    They had only been looking for a few seconds when Draco saw Ginny staring at him from the corner of his eye. Though he felt slightly warmer, he pretended not to notice and asked casually, “What?”

    “Nothing,” she replied quickly, and quickly averted her eyes back to the books.

    A second later, she was looking at him again. This time he met her gaze, and saw her flush red. “Do I have ink on my nose?” he demanded harshly with a sneer.

    “No.” But she didn’t look away, and neither did he. For a long moment there was silence before she spoke again. “Draco, do you…do you feel something…something happening to us?”

    He raised one eyebrow questioningly. “How do you mean?” Though he knew very well what she meant. Maybe he was just a coward and was trying to avoid it, or maybe he wanted to her it come straight from her. Either way, he pretended to be naive.

    She opened her mouth, looking slightly helpless. “Just…something,” she emphasized unhelpfully.

    “Oh, thanks, that really clears it up,” he remarked dryly.

    She narrowed her eyes. “You know what I mean,” she said, a bit unsure. “You didn’t kiss me for nothing, did you?”

    He made sure to mask his feelings and thought her question out. “Well,” he drawled slowly, “not exactly for nothing. I was hoping to get kissed back.”

    Her eyes darkened. “Okay, be a git, see if I care.”

    “Good, because this isn’t really a place to be discussing our relationship,” he commented as they turned back to the bookshelf.

    “I agree, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re trying to avoid the topic,” she shot back. After a long moment, she spun away from the shelf with a loud groan. “We’re never going to find anything! We’ll have to search each and every book, and there must be like a hundred of them! This was so stupid – why did you let me come here?”

    “If I remember correctly you were the one so passionate about getting here,” he sneered.

    “I know, but why did you listen to me?”

    This time, he turned at stared at her, catching her eye. “Because I want your name cleared just as much as you do,” he replied softly. Her eyes softened and she smiled at him, and he realized how sappy he was being. He cleared his throat and added louder, “Because if I don’t get my father sent to Azkaban then I’ll have to face him. And that’s not something I want to do.”

    She narrowed her eyes and shook her head, though her eyes never lost their happy glow. “That’s you, Draco, always thinking about yourself.”

    “When you have no one but yourself, that’s all you ever really think about,” he retorted.

    She stared at him for a moment, her lips pursed, before replying. “You don’t only have yourself,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “What about Professor Snape?”

    Draco gave her a queer look. “What about him?” he asked slowly.

    “You were his favorite back in school,” she reminded him pointedly.

    “That all depends on what you mean by favorite,” Draco drawled. “If you mean I was his favorite student …”

    “Of course that’s what I meant, Draco!” she said, slapping his arm.

    He grinned lazily. “So I’ve got Snape. Do you know how warm and cozy that makes me feel inside?”

    “I’m just saying,” she replied, “that I’m sure despite the way he acts he thinks of you as a son of some sort –”

    “Can we please not talk about Snape right now?” Draco demanded.

    Ginny smiled. “Well, you’ve got other people besides him. Dumbledore, for example.”

    Draco snorted. “Dumbledore tries to be everyone’s friend, Ginny. But it’s obvious he favors people like Potter. People not like me.”

    “Fine,” she said, “I won’t fight you on this…”

    “Good. We need to find something and get our arses out of here. I don’t know about you, but I’m starting to get hungry.”

    Ginny sighed while Draco returned to the bookshelf, turning her head and surveying the room. “Even if we find something, what will we do?” she asked quietly. “Your father’s the Minister of Magic. No one would dare go against his word –”

    “Precisely what I was trying to make you realize before,” Draco snapped. “But you seemed dead set on coming here. Why couldn’t you have thought of this, oh, I don’t know, yesterday?”

    “I was just so … so fixated on trying to get my name cleared …” She trailed off, blinking rapidly. Then she turned her face back to him, her eyes blazing. “There’s no need to be sarcastic,” she retorted. “You said yourself you want my name cleared, too. I kept thinking that when I came there had to be something … anything that would give us a hint as to what Lucius did to the Veritaserum, but now that we’re here I see how hopeless it is.”

    “Yes, well, that’s the difference between us, Weasley, is that I look ahead,” Draco said, scowling. “I knew it was hopeless even before we left.”

    She blinked and looked away, her lower lip beginning to tremble. “There … there’s no way to clear my name, is there, Draco?” she whispered, wringing her fingers together and glancing down at them. “You’ve known in the whole time – and still you’ve come along with me –”

    She was crying. He felt so helpless when a girl cried. And awkward. His first reaction was to step away from her and let her be alone for a little while, but it was then he realized that when people were upset they didn’t always want to be by themselves. I can’t believe I’m doing this, he thought, taking a step closer to her and erasing any space that had been between their bodies before.

    He lifted Ginny’s chin with his finger so she was looking up at him, keeping his face expressionless and his eyes locked on hers. He placed his hands on both sides of her head, feeling her intake her breath sharply and quietly. Even he was surprised at what he was doing, and wiped her cheeks dry with his thumbs.

    “Draco …” Once again she couldn’t finish her sentence, though he was glad, because he didn’t want her to say anything. The moment was priceless. When he’d first stepped to her, he’d tensed, afraid he would be awkward and clumsy around her. But it was the exact opposite – she felt so right against him and not at all uncomfortable.

    Ginny’s face in his hands, the feel of her warm skin and silky hair against his fingers – it was giving him sensations he’d never experienced before; would probably never experience with anyone else. Her eyes, glassy from her tears, stared at him expectantly, her breathing quickening. Her lips were parted slightly, inviting him to kiss her, and it took all of his self-control to keep his mouth away from hers.

    “There is a way,” he said faintly, “to get your name cleared … and I’ll help you find it.”

    She clearly had not been expecting that, and she smiled gently, her wide eyes filling with such adoration it took his breath away. What had he done to deserve such a good person, such a beautiful person, to be against him, wrapped in his arms? All uncertainties he’d ever felt about falling for Ginny Weasley flew out the window, and the only thing he could think about was how he could feel her heart pounding, the smoothness of her skin beneath his fingertips, the warmth radiating from her body.

    It was her, not him, who leaned forward and kissed him. Her arms slide around his neck and pulled him tighter against her, and his hands dropped away from her face and down to her waist. He’d forgotten how it felt to be kissed by Ginny Weasley – he thought he’d remembered, but his memories hadn’t been nearly as wonderful, nearly as sensational.

    Her lips were warm, soft, and opened slightly to allow his tongue entry, and the feeling of her hands running through his hair actually made his knees feel slightly weak. He’d never imagined, not in a million years, that a girl would make him go weak in the knees, but Ginny was.

    He began to gently push her backwards so that she was backing up, the back of her knees bumping into the table. Then, he slowly forced her on to it so that she was laying on it, and she kept right on kissing him like she barely noticed. He bent over her, his hands running down the front of her cloak and unclasping it. A little voice in his mind told him this was not the place; it was no safer than snogging on her front porch had been. But, like before, he ignored the voice and continued to kiss her.

    The table was old, and it creaked when Draco put more of his weight against Ginny and more pressure on the ancient table. He barely noticed – his mind was distracted by other things. Like the way Ginny’s small hands were working on the front of his robes, and finding the bottom of his T-shirt underneath. When her fingers first brushed his bare stomach he nearly pulled back from the surprise, but he soon got used to the feeling.

    Draco was at an uncomfortable angle – leaning over her was beginning to cause his back to ache. But he couldn’t get on the table with her and he knew it, because it would certainly break under his added load.

    Stop, he tried to think. Stop, you can’t do this here…why can’t you just pick a normal place to snog her? Why must it be in places where you could easily be caught?

    Of course, no one knew they were down there. They’d probably be safe for a while, at least long enough to …

    SNAP. With a loud cracking noise, the table legs snapped. Ginny let out a startled shriek as Draco pulled his head away. But the table fell and Ginny with it, and since he’d been leaning so far over her and she still had a good grip on the front of his robes, he lost his balance and fell forward, too.

    Dust rose into the air, causing a cloud to rise up around them. They both coughed, and when it cleared it only revealed the rubble of the table, and Ginny half-sitting, half-lying amongst it, Draco nearly lying across her.

    For a moment, both of them stayed perfectly still, hardly able to believe it. Then, Ginny began to laugh.

    Draco met her eyes for an instant, seeing the amused and happy expression in them. He could feel his own lips tug into a smile, and before he knew what was happening, he was laughing with her.

    It felt good to laugh – to genuinely laugh – when he rarely ever did so. For a moment he forgot where they were, and how uncomfortable it was to be in all the broken wooden pieces remaining from the table. It was only him and Ginny, and nothing could ever touch them.

    Finally, they managed to control themselves, and Draco got off of her and crouched beside her. “Hope nothing’s injured,” he said with a grin.

    She grinned back. “Nothing except my arse … ouch, this is one pointy … thing.” She reached underneath her and pulled out something. Draco had been expecting a wooden plank or something, but instead, to his surprise, it was a book.

    Ginny gaped at it for a moment. “Was this on the table before?” she asked.

    “No, the top was cleared,” Draco replied, his eyebrows furrowed. He took the book from her hands. “It must’ve been hidden under the table or something.”

    “But how?”

    Draco quickly read the tile, hope rising up within him. “Who cares. Look at the title.”

    She leaned over and read it out loud. “Various Veritaserums.” It took a moment to register and sink it, and then she looked at Draco with bright eyes. “This must be the book that explains how to make a Veritaserum Lucius made!”

    “Exactly. There must’ve been some hidden compartment under the table that it was in,” Draco said, idly flipping through the pages. When he returned his gaze to hers he grinned. Standing up, he turned and reached for her hand to help her. “We’ve got what we were looking for. Let’s go –”

    He was cut off by a loud banging noise. As Ginny rose to her feet, he spun around and looked at the door. It’d been opened so forcefully it’d hit the wall beside it.

    One very furious Lucius Malfoy stood there, his face flushed in anger, his hair wild. And behind him was a tall man, wearing a hood, and his red eyes seemed to glow from within the darkness.

* * *

 

 

* * *

Review This Story