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Chapter Three

Fugitives

 

 

Ginny didn’t put her arms around Draco’s waist – rather, she sat far back enough so she could hold the broom and not touch him. She was high on excitement from escaping the bus alive, and managed to stay awake for the first half hour back to shore. But then her eyelids started to get droopy, and she had trouble holding her head up. Eventually, she gave up and said, “I’m about to fall off back here I’m so tired. Can I lean on you?”

    And to her surprise, the answer came sharp and clear. “No.”

    She blinked, not expecting such a snappish reply.

    “I’ve more than enough for you already, Weasley,” Draco told her. “I don’t want you drooling all over me.”

    And for a minute there she was thinking he wasn’t half bad! She huffed to show her annoyance, and forced herself to stay awake.

* * *   

Draco was tired himself, and fortunately knew of a wizard hotel on the coast where they were near. So as soon as they reached land, he headed in that direction.

    I’ll pay for Weasley’s room for her to sleep tonight, he thought, but that’s it. I’m done after that.

    Ten minutes later, he landed in front of the hotel. The moment his feet touched the ground, something fell into his back. Turning his head in surprise, he saw that Ginny had fallen asleep and slumped forward against him.

    She began to roll off, and he grabbed her roughly, hoping to wake her up. But she was dead to the world, and didn’t even move an eyelid when he held her in an erect position by her shoulders.

    “Wake up,” he hissed, glad that it was the middle of the night and no one was around. He shook her, and her head rolled from one side, almost lifelessly.

    Sighing, he got off the broom, still keeping hold of Ginny to keep her from falling to the ground. Then, he lifted her into his arms, like an overgrown baby. She was a lot heavier than he had expected – though she had lost weight in the pass months, she still had a gorgeous, curvy figure.

    God, this is embarrassing, Draco thought as he walked in to the lobby of the hotel. For the millionth time in his life he was relieved he didn’t blush.

    Fortunately for him, the lobby was empty except for a middle-aged man behind the counter. He looked half-asleep but instantly brightened when he spotted them.

    “Mr. Malfoy!” he cried with forced joyfulness. “How are you this evening, sir?”

    Draco squinted his eyes, trying to remember the man. Never seen him before in his life. But he must’ve recognized the pale blond hair and silvery eyes of the Malfoys. “It’s morning,” he said stiffly, his arms growing tired from Ginny’s weight.

    The man behind the counter, whose nametag read “Hamilton” was eyeing Ginny suspiciously, but hadn’t gotten the courage to say anything yet. “Would you be needing a room for the remainder of the – er – morning, sir?”

    “Yes,” Draco snapped, annoyed. What did Hamilton think he was doing here if not coming for a room? “Two rooms.”

    The man pushed a large book in front of him, holding out a quill. “Just sign here, Mr. Malfoy.”

    Draco stared at Hamilton. How could he write with a person in his arms?

    Hamilton’s cheeks flushed and he sputtered, “Oh, of course, Mr. Malfoy . . . I’ll just – er, uh – sign this here for you . . . it’s not a problem, er, not at all . . .”

    After he signed Draco’s name for him, he reached under the counter and produced two old-fashioned keys. “Rooms are right next to – uh, er – each other, sir.”

    Draco hefted Ginny up onto the counter and dropped her heavily. Hamilton jumped, but Ginny didn’t make a sound. “Put the keys on her stomach for me, will you?”

    With a trembling hand, Hamilton placed the keys where he was instructed. Then Draco gathered Ginny back in his arms and flashed a smirk at him.

    “Is – is she dead, sir?”

    “She wasn’t when I checked last.”

    “Isn’t she – er, um – that Weasley girl who used an Unforgivable Curse on your father, Mr. Malfoy?”

    “Weasley? No, no, she’s just some prostitute who I found in the gutter outside and I decided to revive her and have a little fun,” Draco replied smoothly. As he turned away he nearly laughed out loud at the stricken look of horror on Hamilton’s face.

    But once he found the rooms, he was far from merry. He figure to find some way to get the right key off Ginny’s stomach and put it in the keyhole, turn it, and open the door, all with her out cold in his arms. After nearly five minutes of balancing and nearly dropping her head first on the ground, he finally just placed her on her back on the floor. For the first time, she moaned and rolled over onto her side.

    He stared at down at her and frowned. He wanted to be angry with her – she had caused him extreme embarrassment and pain in carrying her all around the stupid hotel. But as he stared down at her he was enchanted – she was beautiful. Several strands of wavy, deep red hair had fallen over her face. Her skin was pale, paler then he remembered, but it gave her an enchanting quality, almost like an angel’s skin would. She had long, dark lashes that, when her eyes were opened, framed wide dark brown eyes. She was breathing softly and evenly, one hand near her face, in a position that had Draco’s blood rushing a bit quicker than normal.

    Then he was angry again, but this time it was at himself. She’s a Weasley, he thought, kicking open the door of the room that would be hers. A poor, pathetic Weasley who is now a fugitive.

    He reached down and grabbed her wrists, dragging her into the room. If anyone had been out in the hallway that late at night, they probably would’ve thought he was dragging a dead body. Even he felt like he was dragging something lifeless.

    In the room, he quickly lit the candles with a wave of his wand and hauled Ginny onto the bed. Relieved that he was finally finished and could go to bed himself, he turned and started to walk out when a little thing caught his eye. Her shoes were still on.

    So? She can sleep in her shoes, he thought.

    He stood in the doorway like a dope for a minute, contemplating whether or not to take off her shoes. It doesn’t matter! a voice screamed in his head. Just leave her in her damn shoes!

    But at the last minute, he returned to the bed and yanked her shoes off violently, as if trying to make up for the kindness of what he was doing. Then he hurried out of the room before he actually tucked her under the blankets.

    Back in his room, he felt like an idiot. He couldn’t believe he had done what he had! It was what her mother would do, not a sworn enemy. How stupid was he?

    He fell into a deep sleep, and ironically forgot to take his own shoes off.

 * * *

Draco woke up the next morning to bright sunlight streaming in through the window across his face. Yet it wasn’t he light that had woken him up.

    It was someone pounding on his door very, very hard. So hard the hinges rattled.

    “Open up!” someone yelled. “This is the Ministry!”

    What did the Ministry want with Draco? He sat up just as the door adjoining his and Ginny’s room opened and Ginny came in, her eyes wider than usual.

    “They know I’m here,” she whispered, swallowing the lump of fear in her throat.

    “You’re an accomplice of the Weasley girl!” the man repeated from outside the door, confirming Ginny’s statement. “Come out now!”

    “Oh shit,” Draco said. “They’re after me, too!”

    Hamilton must’ve called the Ministry after recognizing Ginny. He probably told them that Draco tried to cover up her identity, so obviously people now believe he is helping her.

    And he was.

    “What are we going to do?” Ginny cried. “They’ll open the door any second – I know they will!”

    Draco thought fast. There was one window, but they were on the second floor. They would have to jump out. He ran over to the window and cried, “Alohomora!” The glass popped open and Draco quickly looked out. Good, he thought, noticing that they were in the rear of the hotel and could probably manage to run to the woods in time to escape.

    “You have until the count of three,” the shouting continued. “One . . .”

    “Weasley, jump out,” Draco hissed.

    “What?” Ginny did not move.

    “I said jump out. Don’t you want to be able to clear your name?”

    She nodded slowly.

    “You can’t do that from jail. So jump!”

    “Two . . .”

    Ginny ran over to the window and looked out. “It’s high,” she said, her voice trembling.

    Draco rolled his eyes. “Fine, then I’ll just go. Have fun living the rest of your life in Azkaban.”

    And he lifted himself onto the window ledge, lowering himself down. He held onto the ledge and dangled, counted to three very, very quickly, and dropped to the ground.

    Above him, he heard the final shout. “Three!”

    When he looked up, he saw Ginny scrambling out. She jumped just as the noise indicated the door had burst open. When she landed beside him, he turned and began to sprint in the direction of the woods.

    Ginny was not far behind him.

    She ran as fast as she could. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the people looking out the window and pointing at them. They were going to come after them!

    They made it to the safety of the forest, but did not slow down. It was harder to run in the woods because she had to dodge low branches, fallen logs, and rocks. Leaves slapped her face, twigs scraping her arms, but she still ran.

    Behind her, she could hear the voices at the edge of the woods. They were going to catch them eventually, why was she even trying?

    Because I want to clear my name, she thought. Malfoy’s right – I can’t do that sitting in a cell for the rest of my life.

    Ginny glanced back, hoping she wouldn’t be able to see her pursuers. But she wasn’t watching where she was going and her toe struck a large rock, tripping her. She fell flat on her face in the leaves, pain shooting up her shin that crashed into the rock.

    Looking up, she saw she had lost sight of Draco.

    “Damn,” she whispered. The voices were very close now – they would see her if she jumped up and started to run. She would have to hide.

    Staying low, she crawled and searched frantically for a hiding spot. And then she found it – a large, hollow log. She would be able to fit in it. Going as fast as she could, she squeezed in it as far in as she could go.

    She felt claustrophobic, and hated to think of what could be crawling on her. But she held her breath and waited as the voices came closer and closer. Finally, they were accompanied by footsteps, running past her log.

    “They can’t be far –!”

    “Won’t be able to run forever –!”

    “We’ll get them and throw their sorry asses into Azkaban –!”

    Until finally they diminished completely, leaving her in a rotting, damp log and covered in insects.

 

It took Draco a little while to realize that Ginny was no longer behind him. He was beginning to tire, and glanced back to see her not running anymore. Where was she? Did she give herself up?

    Maybe they won’t run after me anymore, then, he thought, slowing down to a stop.

    But the voices of his attackers changed his mind. Yep, they were still after him.

    He couldn’t run forever. Eventually he’d have to stop and then they would get him.

    I need to hide.

    He searched for a good hiding spot. There was nothing, nothing, they were gaining on him, he would be put into Azkaban for assisting a criminal . . .

    And then he found it. The perfect climbing tree.

    It was tall, and thick with green leaves. If he got high enough it would hide him from the ground. And he could stop in the middle, too, so they couldn’t see him from the air either.

    He grabbed the first branch and pulled himself up. When he was younger he used to climb trees a lot, so he was pretty good at it. At least I’m not one of those wusses who are afraid of heights, he thought, smirking as he ascended higher and higher.

    Finally, he found the perfect branch that would hold his weight and keep him from behind seen. He sat on it and then remained perfectly still so the shaking of the leaves wouldn’t hide the yells and footsteps of those who were after him.

    They both stayed hidden most of the day. Occasionally they’d hear distant shouts, but finally, at dusk, Draco heard the footsteps back by his tree. He caught bits of their sentences, and it basically stated that they would search again tomorrow, but by broomstick.

    When Ginny finally wiggled out of the log, her arms and legs were asleep. She had to rest on the ground so the blood would flow back into her body. The woods were safe now – she had heard the people returning as well. They obviously hadn’t gotten Draco, so he must be somewhere.

    Ginny wandered through the woods, the fading sunlight slitting through the leaves of the trees. The crunching of her feet on the ground was so loud it took her a moment to realize that someone else was walking with her.

    And then a hand grabbed her shoulder. She screamed – very loudly. Draco quickly covered her mouth with his other hand, eyes blazing.

    “Are you trying to get us caught?” he demanded harshly, taking his hand away.

    She stared indignantly at him. “I’m sorry,” she snapped. “I’m just a little jumpy considered I’m probably one of the most wanted criminals at the moment.”

    He held her gaze. “Yeah, you and me both. We’re fugitives now.”

    Then he stepped by her and began walking deeper into the woods. She watched his retreating back for a moment and thought, We’re fugitives – but we’re fugitives together.

    She shivered, and she wasn’t sure why. Then she hurried to catch up with him.

 

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