Reach out and Touch Faith

Ginevra was too good, too kind. She had her dark side as well, but he just felt like he wasn’t enough for her. He imagined himself as this dark entity preying on her Sleeping Beauty-esque soul. For weeks, he had tormented himself wondering what he could do to stop this. He wanted to be with her; he knew that. He would wander around the city searching for answers to questions he had and to questions he couldn’t even ask himself. With its classic architecture, he had wandered into the chapel. As soon as he stepped in, he prepared to leave; there wasn’t a soul there. Then, he heard soft voices. He tracked them down to a small, peculiar looking box. For minutes, he waited to see who would come out. Was someone DOING something in there? Then, a petite elderly woman appeared from the one side.

“Go on in deary,” she told him. Go in for what? Nevertheless, he cautiously stepped into the box. He sat in the small seat, secretly clutching his wand. Suddenly, the small square in front of him became semi-transparent. Draco had sat there, completely unsure of what was going on.

“Is there something you wish to tell me?” a male’s voice suddenly said after a lapse of silence.

“What do you mean?”

“You obviously feel as if you have done something wrong. What is it you wish to confess?” he had asked. Draco then remembered hearing a former classmate, years ago, discussing Muggle faiths and traditions. Apparently, he was supposed to talk about everything he had done wrong. Was there even enough time for that?

“Um, I’m not sure exactly where to begin…” Where to begin. He might as well start from the moment he had been born.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned is always a good start. From there, do not be afraid. Nothing you say will leave this room.”

“Well, forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. And I have been doing so for years. Sometimes intentionally. Sometimes by force. I sinned because I had to, and I don’t feel good about it. The expectations my family had for me caused me to do unmentionable things. Just know that I have done things I’m not proud of. And I feel like they’re destroying me. They are destroying my relationship with the one person I love.” And so he told his story—while, of course, making it appropriate for a Muggle.

For each day after, he came back to see the man and tell him more. The man only said thank you after each time, and requested that Draco return until he felt that he had nothing left to confess. Finally, after a week, he was exhausted. Reliving those moments had been something he never wanted to do again. The priest then told him he believed he knew what he had to do.

“You obviously are hurting a great deal right now. And you will no doubt continue to feel that way until you do something about it. What you did was not optional; you would not be here today if you had refused. Obviously, He has a greater plan for you. I would advise you to help others in order to help yourself. Volunteer somewhere. Listen to their problems. Then, maybe you will forgive yourself for your own.”

Help others? He had never actually considered that. He thought the only way to heal was to look inward and not outward. He had nodded, quietly giving his thanks, and exited the chapel. He would find a way to do this. But Ginny could never know. Undoubtedly, she would tell him he had nothing to be sorry about. He, like all others, had done what he had to do to protect himself and what was dear to him. Everyone had to do things they weren’t particularly proud of during the war. One night when she was upset, she had cried over what she had lost during the war. She confessed how embarrassed she was because she hadn’t been able to kill Bellatrix. She had desperately wanted to be the one to kill Sirius’ murderer. Feeling like she had done nothing for the Light, she had cried. He had assured her that she had done everything she could and the more; she was young then and impressive with her magic. Looking back, listening to her problems had eased his mind. Maybe listening to more could erase the guilt.

The next month, Draco could be found at soup kitchens, homeless shelters, and clothing drives. While it did alleviate some pain, it wasn’t enough. He started to sit down with people and ask them what they thought about their lives. After the tenth informal confession of adultery, he had begun to carry tissues. He hadn’t pried into their lives but gently goaded them into spilling. It had been easy for him. The more things they said, the more he realized that he was still worse off than them. He could help them with their lives but it wouldn’t fix what he did. It wouldn’t stop his nightmares. It wouldn’t put an end to fact that Ginny was wasting her life with him. He was going insane.

Each time he went home to her, he felt like he couldn’t tell her anything. He had, unknowingly, placed her on a pedestal. And he didn’t have the heart to knock her off of it with confessions about his issues. Draco could never give her the life she wanted: marriage, kids, and love. He did love her, there was no doubt. But he couldn’t marry her in fear that his secrets would become too much. No wife should be forced to bear the sins of her husband. He needed to leave her. God, he didn’t want to. He didn’t want…God. Maybe that was the answer. The man from the chapel listened to people all the time! Could that be what he needed to do? Certainly that wasn’t the only task the man had.

Rushing back, he burst into the church. The man sat as if he had been waiting for Draco. Looking at the young Malfoy, he had said he knew why Draco was there. Just the look in his eyes allowed the man to realize what Draco wanted to do.

“Do you find it wise to do this? You have mentioned a young woman many times. What would she do without you? What would you do without her? My calling does not solely consist of listening to problems. I spend my life spreading The Word to others and in deep prayer. Could you do that? Could you relive your sins daily? Praying for yourself and for others. It is a serious thing, one that cannot be decided in one day. Go home. See your girl. Come back in no less than a week, and we will discuss what to do from there.” With that, the man turned and walked back into the confessional.

He spent the next two weeks in serious thought. No matter where he was, he wondered about what his life would be like if he remained the way he was. He would go mad from the depression. It weighed too heavy on his soul. If he was to dedicate his life to God, it would give him peace. The only time his mind wandered was when he would look at Ginny. If only there was a United Church of Ginny. He would willingly worship her for the rest of his life. But he couldn’t expect her to be perfect all the time; it wasn’t real. She was his world right now, and that wasn’t fair to her. He knew she had other obligations in life, and other people who cared about her. He decided to spend his remaining days with her in their shared flat giving her whatever she wanted. He resisted picking fights even when he knew she was wrong. He would come back to her every night. He knew he should try to stop loving her, if only to make it easier on the both of them. But she was irresistible. Once he smelled her, lavender with a hint of vanilla, he was done for. One kiss of her lips, and he would have no choice but to fall into bed. Even if allowed, he could never fully dedicate himself to God if he was still with her. And he would remain tainted. So he sought to get her out of his system once and for all. He could only chant her name and proclaim his love. He could never tell her where he was going during the day.

After those two weeks, he went back to have his talk with the man. And he told him how he realized he had to do this for selfish reasons really. He had to make himself clean again. The blood on his hands was driving him mad. And he had to do it so others wouldn’t feel like that. So the man had given him the name of the school he needed to attend. The place where he would learn to accept his past to help others with their future. All he needed to do was tell Ginny. And that was most likely going to be harder than deciding to join.

He knew that as soon as he told her, and word spread, that damn Potter brat would be lurking again. That boy could not move on. It was pathetic. He believed that she had become suspicious about where he was constantly going, so Draco thought it would make it easier.

He was wrong.

She had gone off the deep end and accused him of cheating. With women AND men. He finally told her what he planned to do. And she looked as if he had struck her. His heart ached with the realization that this was it. This was the moment when he would break both his and Ginevra Weasley’s hearts.

“Ginny, I have to serve Him. You have to understand where I’m coming from. You heal their minds, but who will be there to heal their souls? I am living a life where I’m sane but unhappy. Not because of you. But because I know you love me in spite of what I’ve done. And that’s not fair. You shouldn’t be able to live with me if I can’t live with me. We could never be as close as you want to be because I feel like I’m hiding this other side. Because you don’t deserve to be faced with it. You’ve worked through your pain. And I have to mend myself by helping those who have lost their way. Please understand. I need you to understand.”

And she had told him that she had been fine and was now broken. And would remain that way because he was leaving. And that he couldn’t fix her. All he wanted was to fix people. He wanted to reach out and help them find faith.

If this was the right decision, then why did he feel like he was leaving his home behind?