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Chapter 12: It Returns
It was a miracle she hadn’t murdered him on the spot. But Virginia Weasley wasn’t the best of the best for nothing. She had been trained, by almost six years of working for Fudge, to hide her emotions, to maintain the proper façade under any circumstances. And she had been able to do so, amazingly well, Draco noted, even though the look in her eye spoke her growing desire to throttle him. He smiled to himself, as he watched her interact with his family members, knowing that as soon as they were given a moment alone, she was going to rip his heart out and enjoy doing it.
Draco leaned back against the wall, almost hidden in a dark corner, content to watch the scene before him. This was one of his favorite places in the world, right here in this study, surrounded by his father’s family. He was certain that Virginia was highly surprised by the warm reception she had received, and she seemed to be enjoying herself immensely as his Aunt Elizabeth, his Uncle Vincent, and his cousins, Sarah and Danika, had surrounded her, eager to learn as much about her as possible.
“Now, dear, what is it that you do for living?” his aunt asked, interjecting Sarah’s excited questions about what kind of robe stores could be found in Diagon Alley. Sarah, a typical teenager, had recently discovered fashion and was frustrated by the remoteness of her family’s home, and the distance to a decent store, as she complained frequently.
“I work in an international office. I’m something of a diplomat, I guess you could say, I represent my company when negotiating with other countries,” she said carefully. Draco noted that she had paled slightly; lying didn’t suit her at all.
“Does that mean you get to travel a lot?” Vincent asked her curiously.
“Yes, quite a bit. Actually, I just returned to Britain less than two weeks ago when Mal – uh, Draco asked me to join him on this trip.”
“What kinds of places have you been, Virginia?” he asked. From his place across the room, Draco could see the glint in his eyes, knowing where this was leading. Draco battled with his conscious for a moment then, with a smirk, he decided he would rather see the Weasley in action.
“Many places around Europe. Switzerland, France, Italy, Germany…I’ve also been to Greece, a few small countries in the Mediterranean, and a few countries in South America,” she answered, thinking back to create her list.
“Ah, South America? Have you been to Guatemala?” he asked. Draco bit back a laugh, knowing perfectly well what her answer was going to be.
“Oh yes, only for a day or two a few years back. Have you been there yourself, sir?” she asked politely. Ah, ever the polite politician, Weasley, Draco thought with amusement. Little do you know that your politeness is going to cost you a three-hour history lesson on Vincent’s adventures among the Guatemalans.
“Why, yes. I spent five years there, living among the people, and exploring some of the history there. There was this fascinating group of ancient wizards that formed a bit of a colony there, thousands of years ago. I found quite a few artifacts during that trip, would you care to see them?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement. Touched by his enthusiasm, she heartily agreed, and he quickly led her out of the room. They were headed to the library, Draco assumed, where his uncle kept his treasures proudly displayed.
“Draco, she’s an absolute dear. Poor girl is going to have to hear about the bloody ancient Guatemalan wizards for hours. You should have warned her not to mention anything,” Danika admonished, having spotted Draco in the shadows. Sarah was nodding heartily beside her.
“She’ll be fine. Poor Vincent rarely gets a chance to relive his glory days, Virginia will be more than happy to please an old man,” Draco assured his cousins.
“Her hair is such a pretty color! I’ve never seen a girl with red hair like that before! Everyone at school is either blonde like us, or has black hair. She’s going to stick out, no doubt,” Sarah declared.
“I’m sure she’ll manage. She knows how to blend in well, it’s part of her profession,” he replied.
“Well, dear, I’m so happy that you could make it. Gabrielle will be coming home in a few days, as well, and when Darien arrives, we’ll have the whole family together. Have you spoken to Gabrielle at all? How is she surviving in Britain, all on her own? And who is this Harry Potter she keeps speaking about?” his aunt questioned anxiously.
“She’s doing fine. Potter is hailed as somewhat of a hero in Britain, he’s famous and completely respectable. Gabrielle is rather enamored of him, and you shouldn’t be surprised if she shows up with a ring on her finger,” he answered. Sarah and Danika squealed excitedly, and their mother just sat in stunned silence.
“I had no idea they were that serious,” she said simply, her eyes slightly downcast. It had been hard for her, her oldest daughter leaving home to live abroad. The two had been so close, and now it seemed as if she barely knew her now.
“Don’t worry, Aunt Elizabeth, I’m sure she’ll fill you in as soon as she gets here. She’s been occupied lately, with her work,” Draco said, seeing the slight sadness in his aunt’s pale eyes. She immediately smiled.
“Why don’t you go rescue your guest, Draco? I’m sure that both of you must be exhausted, and it’s best that she retire soon, anyway. It’s getting late,” she said, catching his eyes with a pointed look; a hidden warning. Nodding, Draco stood and exited the room, heading to the library.
* * * * *
For the second time that day, Ginny was left speechless. The kindness of this family had startled her beyond words. She was expecting a cold, distant family where pride and arrogance would run rampant. And yet, here they were, warm and inviting, and seemed to have just as many quirks as her own did. Draco’s Uncle Vincent, eagerly showing her his collection of tribal masks and artifacts, reminded her so much of her father who was exactly the same way about his Muggle things.
“And this, Virginia, is what we believe some form of wand. I’ve been trying to discover what they used for the core, but I’m beginning to think that they didn’t use anything. Maybe they just used a piece of wood,” he said, turning to look at her.
“Actually, I believe that only the leader actually possessed a wand. The common people didn’t use them; they relied more heavily on a sort of group magic. It was difficult for them to conjure anything individually, they were a communal group. They shared everything, even power,” Ginny said, remembering a conversation she’d had long ago with the junior consul to Guatemala’s Minister.
“I believe I read that somewhere. I think you’re absolutely right!” Vincent declared, delighted.
“Now, Uncle Vincent, I’m afraid I’m going to steal Virginia away from you. Elizabeth is very worried that you are keeping our guest from much needed rest, after our trip here,” Draco’s cool voice filled the room unexpectedly. Ginny turned to face him, he was hidden in the shadows again, but the scarce light in the room seemed to catch in his gray eyes, making them glitter. The sight of his glittering eyes struck Ginny. The cold, steel color they normally were seemed to have disappeared, and now they were warmer, almost silver in color.
“Of course. Sorry, my dear, we’ll have to continue some other time. I lost track of the hour myself,” Draco’s uncle said. “Draco, I trust you’ll see your guest to her room?”
“Of course. Goodnight, Vincent,” Draco said, as the elder man exited the room. He stepped forward, and his movement broke the trance that his eyes had cast on Ginny, and she was able to find her voice again.
“You are a bloody bastard, you know that?” she asked, matter-of-factly, lacking the explosive anger he’d been expecting from her.
“I told you that I had developed some sort of ruse. How else would I explain I was bringing a young lady to stay with my family? Did you want me to tell them you are a work colleague? Malfoys do not entertain work colleagues. Or Ministry officials, either.”
“I suppose it never crossed your mind to inform me of this plan, did it?”
“Would you have gone along with it?”
“Of course not!”
“Exactly. You’re too Gryffindor to lie to anyone and would have marched right into that room and started listing all the ways that they are wrong about this stupid Act, and why they should change their lifestyle to suit your goals,” Draco explained coldly.
“That is what I’m here for, don’t you forget that!”
“I don’t intend to. Now, Virginia, if you shall
follow me, I’ll show you to your room,” Draco said, swinging around and practically storming out of the room. She followed him, practically needing to run to keep up with his long legs.
“Your family isn’t what I expected, Malfoy,” she seethed, the remnants of her temper not yet assuaged.
“Just because my father was a bloody bastard doesn’t mean the rest of them are. But remember what I told you, Weasley. Nothing here is like it really seems. It’s best you remember that,” he said, stopping suddenly and turning around. Unprepared, Ginny slammed into his chest, and would have fallen backwards if his hands had not shot out to grip her waist.
“Maybe you could stop being so mysterious and tell me what I need to know,” she whispered furiously, wriggling out of his grip, and pushing him away. He was far too close to her. A memory from the night before flashed through her mind, and a tingling sensation seemed to travel down her back as she recalled the feel of his lips on hers.
“This is your room. See that you stay there until morning,” he said, and with a flick of his wrist, the door to the bedroom had opened, and he was stomping down the hall once again.
“Bloody hell,” she sighed. Why did he always make her feel like she was in over her head?
* * * * *
Once inside the comfortably furnished bedroom, Ginny Weasley was finally able to relax. Being around Draco seemed to cause her body to tense up. And his family, as nice as they had been, still had her on edge. The product of Draco’s cryptic warnings, she supposed.
Wandering around the room, she noted that her bag had been brought up and unpacked. She explored the number of doors, finding a closet where her suits and blouses were hanging behind one, and a lavish bathroom behind another. Stepping into the bathroom, she noticed that her brush had been placed on the sink, and a large array of colorful, fluffy bath towels were beckoning to her. Unable and unwilling to resist, she shed her clothes and stepped into a hot shower, washing away the tension and the clogged feeling that travel always seemed to accompany.
After her shower, she donned her nightclothes and dried her hair, reveling in the feeling of the long strands tumbling down her back. Nighttime was the only time she allowed it to be free. During the day, when she was all business, it was always tied back, most often in a tight knot. It was a reminder to her that she was a grown-up and a professional.
She sank into the wonderfully soft bed, and her body, after days of little sleep and screaming from exhaustion, was eager to relax and enjoy the opportunity to gain a full night’s sleep. Her conscious nagged at her, reminding her that she should be reading over the file that Clarice had put together about the history of this branch of the Malfoy family and that she should be plotting her plan of attack for the next few days. She also had many questions running around in her brain; why was this family the exact opposite of what she’d expected? Why was Draco so mysterious about the details? And why had he ordered her to stay in her room throughout the night? As she tried to answer these questions, the aching need for sleep finally overcame her. Within moments, she had drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the soft warmth of her bed.
* * * * *
A loud shrill scream pierced through the night, ripping Ginny from her deep sleep as she jumped up with a gasp. Her heart pounding in her chest, she ran to the large window, looked around desperately to see what had caused the scream. Shaking from the chill that had crept into the room during the night, she couldn’t see anything out the window except for a great white expanse.
As her heartbeat slowed, Ginny forced herself to breath in deeply, to calm herself. She focused all her attention to her hearing, straining to hear anything. The silence of the castle seemed to pound in her head. As the terror that had gripped her in the moments she had been torn from sleep slowly receded, her shaking intensified and she was forced to sit back down on the bed.
Her previously deep breaths became shallow and uneven, and a tight pain began to stab in her chest. Recognizing the beginnings of a panic attack, she gripped the warm blanket in her hands, so tight her knuckles were turning white, and thrust her head between her knees, forcing herself to take long, deep breaths.
Breathe in. Breathe out, Ginny. Don’t think about anything, just breathe. In. Out. In and out, she coached herself, a practice that had once been so natural to her. It had been a year since she’d last awoken in the middle of the night, torn from the safety of sleep and thrust into the terror of a panic attack. She felt as though she’d never stop shaking and that she couldn’t get enough air into her desperate lungs.
In and out. In and out, she repeated to
herself. The practiced technique eventually took hold, and she felt the tight pain in her chest ease. Her breathing returned to normal. Gratefully, she collapsed backwards into the pillows of the bed. Burying herself under the safety of the comforter, the exhaustion she had felt earlier seemed to hit her twice as hard. But she was unable to sleep.
She was haunted by questions. Why now? After so long? I thought I was finally free. Sleep would not come to her for the rest of the night, as she lay in the grip of an intense fear that she had not felt a long time, but was so familiar to her, it was like the return of an old friend.
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Chapter 12: It Returns
It was a miracle she hadn’t murdered him on the spot. But Virginia Weasley wasn’t the best of the best for nothing. She had been trained, by almost six years of working for Fudge, to hide her emotions, to maintain the proper façade under any circumstances. And she had been able to do so, amazingly well, Draco noted, even though the look in her eye spoke her growing desire to throttle him. He smiled to himself, as he watched her interact with his family members, knowing that as soon as they were given a moment alone, she was going to rip his heart out and enjoy doing it.
Draco leaned back against the wall, almost hidden in a dark corner, content to watch the scene before him. This was one of his favorite places in the world, right here in this study, surrounded by his father’s family. He was certain that Virginia was highly surprised by the warm reception she had received, and she seemed to be enjoying herself immensely as his Aunt Elizabeth, his Uncle Vincent, and his cousins, Sarah and Danika, had surrounded her, eager to learn as much about her as possible.
“Now, dear, what is it that you do for living?” his aunt asked, interjecting Sarah’s excited questions about what kind of robe stores could be found in Diagon Alley. Sarah, a typical teenager, had recently discovered fashion and was frustrated by the remoteness of her family’s home, and the distance to a decent store, as she complained frequently.
“I work in an international office. I’m something of a diplomat, I guess you could say, I represent my company when negotiating with other countries,” she said carefully. Draco noted that she had paled slightly; lying didn’t suit her at all.
“Does that mean you get to travel a lot?” Vincent asked her curiously.
“Yes, quite a bit. Actually, I just returned to Britain less than two weeks ago when Mal – uh, Draco asked me to join him on this trip.”
“What kinds of places have you been, Virginia?” he asked. From his place across the room, Draco could see the glint in his eyes, knowing where this was leading. Draco battled with his conscious for a moment then, with a smirk, he decided he would rather see the Weasley in action.
“Many places around Europe. Switzerland, France, Italy, Germany…I’ve also been to Greece, a few small countries in the Mediterranean, and a few countries in South America,” she answered, thinking back to create her list.
“Ah, South America? Have you been to Guatemala?” he asked. Draco bit back a laugh, knowing perfectly well what her answer was going to be.
“Oh yes, only for a day or two a few years back. Have you been there yourself, sir?” she asked politely. Ah, ever the polite politician, Weasley, Draco thought with amusement. Little do you know that your politeness is going to cost you a three-hour history lesson on Vincent’s adventures among the Guatemalans.
“Why, yes. I spent five years there, living among the people, and exploring some of the history there. There was this fascinating group of ancient wizards that formed a bit of a colony there, thousands of years ago. I found quite a few artifacts during that trip, would you care to see them?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement. Touched by his enthusiasm, she heartily agreed, and he quickly led her out of the room. They were headed to the library, Draco assumed, where his uncle kept his treasures proudly displayed.
“Draco, she’s an absolute dear. Poor girl is going to have to hear about the bloody ancient Guatemalan wizards for hours. You should have warned her not to mention anything,” Danika admonished, having spotted Draco in the shadows. Sarah was nodding heartily beside her.
“She’ll be fine. Poor Vincent rarely gets a chance to relive his glory days, Virginia will be more than happy to please an old man,” Draco assured his cousins.
“Her hair is such a pretty color! I’ve never seen a girl with red hair like that before! Everyone at school is either blonde like us, or has black hair. She’s going to stick out, no doubt,” Sarah declared.
“I’m sure she’ll manage. She knows how to blend in well, it’s part of her profession,” he replied.
“Well, dear, I’m so happy that you could make it. Gabrielle will be coming home in a few days, as well, and when Darien arrives, we’ll have the whole family together. Have you spoken to Gabrielle at all? How is she surviving in Britain, all on her own? And who is this Harry Potter she keeps speaking about?” his aunt questioned anxiously.
“She’s doing fine. Potter is hailed as somewhat of a hero in Britain, he’s famous and completely respectable. Gabrielle is rather enamored of him, and you shouldn’t be surprised if she shows up with a ring on her finger,” he answered. Sarah and Danika squealed excitedly, and their mother just sat in stunned silence.
“I had no idea they were that serious,” she said simply, her eyes slightly downcast. It had been hard for her, her oldest daughter leaving home to live abroad. The two had been so close, and now it seemed as if she barely knew her now.
“Don’t worry, Aunt Elizabeth, I’m sure she’ll fill you in as soon as she gets here. She’s been occupied lately, with her work,” Draco said, seeing the slight sadness in his aunt’s pale eyes. She immediately smiled.
“Why don’t you go rescue your guest, Draco? I’m sure that both of you must be exhausted, and it’s best that she retire soon, anyway. It’s getting late,” she said, catching his eyes with a pointed look; a hidden warning. Nodding, Draco stood and exited the room, heading to the library.
* * * * *
For the second time that day, Ginny was left speechless. The kindness of this family had startled her beyond words. She was expecting a cold, distant family where pride and arrogance would run rampant. And yet, here they were, warm and inviting, and seemed to have just as many quirks as her own did. Draco’s Uncle Vincent, eagerly showing her his collection of tribal masks and artifacts, reminded her so much of her father who was exactly the same way about his Muggle things.
“And this, Virginia, is what we believe some form of wand. I’ve been trying to discover what they used for the core, but I’m beginning to think that they didn’t use anything. Maybe they just used a piece of wood,” he said, turning to look at her.
“Actually, I believe that only the leader actually possessed a wand. The common people didn’t use them; they relied more heavily on a sort of group magic. It was difficult for them to conjure anything individually, they were a communal group. They shared everything, even power,” Ginny said, remembering a conversation she’d had long ago with the junior consul to Guatemala’s Minister.
“I believe I read that somewhere. I think you’re absolutely right!” Vincent declared, delighted.
“Now, Uncle Vincent, I’m afraid I’m going to steal Virginia away from you. Elizabeth is very worried that you are keeping our guest from much needed rest, after our trip here,” Draco’s cool voice filled the room unexpectedly. Ginny turned to face him, he was hidden in the shadows again, but the scarce light in the room seemed to catch in his gray eyes, making them glitter. The sight of his glittering eyes struck Ginny. The cold, steel color they normally were seemed to have disappeared, and now they were warmer, almost silver in color.
“Of course. Sorry, my dear, we’ll have to continue some other time. I lost track of the hour myself,” Draco’s uncle said. “Draco, I trust you’ll see your guest to her room?”
“Of course. Goodnight, Vincent,” Draco said, as the elder man exited the room. He stepped forward, and his movement broke the trance that his eyes had cast on Ginny, and she was able to find her voice again.
“You are a bloody bastard, you know that?” she asked, matter-of-factly, lacking the explosive anger he’d been expecting from her.
“I told you that I had developed some sort of ruse. How else would I explain I was bringing a young lady to stay with my family? Did you want me to tell them you are a work colleague? Malfoys do not entertain work colleagues. Or Ministry officials, either.”
“I suppose it never crossed your mind to inform me of this plan, did it?”
“Would you have gone along with it?”
“Of course not!”
“Exactly. You’re too Gryffindor to lie to anyone and would have marched right into that room and started listing all the ways that they are wrong about this stupid Act, and why they should change their lifestyle to suit your goals,” Draco explained coldly.
“That is what I’m here for, don’t you forget that!”
“I don’t intend to. Now, Virginia, if you shall
follow me, I’ll show you to your room,” Draco said, swinging around and practically storming out of the room. She followed him, practically needing to run to keep up with his long legs.
“Your family isn’t what I expected, Malfoy,” she seethed, the remnants of her temper not yet assuaged.
“Just because my father was a bloody bastard doesn’t mean the rest of them are. But remember what I told you, Weasley. Nothing here is like it really seems. It’s best you remember that,” he said, stopping suddenly and turning around. Unprepared, Ginny slammed into his chest, and would have fallen backwards if his hands had not shot out to grip her waist.
“Maybe you could stop being so mysterious and tell me what I need to know,” she whispered furiously, wriggling out of his grip, and pushing him away. He was far too close to her. A memory from the night before flashed through her mind, and a tingling sensation seemed to travel down her back as she recalled the feel of his lips on hers.
“This is your room. See that you stay there until morning,” he said, and with a flick of his wrist, the door to the bedroom had opened, and he was stomping down the hall once again.
“Bloody hell,” she sighed. Why did he always make her feel like she was in over her head?
* * * * *
Once inside the comfortably furnished bedroom, Ginny Weasley was finally able to relax. Being around Draco seemed to cause her body to tense up. And his family, as nice as they had been, still had her on edge. The product of Draco’s cryptic warnings, she supposed.
Wandering around the room, she noted that her bag had been brought up and unpacked. She explored the number of doors, finding a closet where her suits and blouses were hanging behind one, and a lavish bathroom behind another. Stepping into the bathroom, she noticed that her brush had been placed on the sink, and a large array of colorful, fluffy bath towels were beckoning to her. Unable and unwilling to resist, she shed her clothes and stepped into a hot shower, washing away the tension and the clogged feeling that travel always seemed to accompany.
After her shower, she donned her nightclothes and dried her hair, reveling in the feeling of the long strands tumbling down her back. Nighttime was the only time she allowed it to be free. During the day, when she was all business, it was always tied back, most often in a tight knot. It was a reminder to her that she was a grown-up and a professional.
She sank into the wonderfully soft bed, and her body, after days of little sleep and screaming from exhaustion, was eager to relax and enjoy the opportunity to gain a full night’s sleep. Her conscious nagged at her, reminding her that she should be reading over the file that Clarice had put together about the history of this branch of the Malfoy family and that she should be plotting her plan of attack for the next few days. She also had many questions running around in her brain; why was this family the exact opposite of what she’d expected? Why was Draco so mysterious about the details? And why had he ordered her to stay in her room throughout the night? As she tried to answer these questions, the aching need for sleep finally overcame her. Within moments, she had drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the soft warmth of her bed.
* * * * *
A loud shrill scream pierced through the night, ripping Ginny from her deep sleep as she jumped up with a gasp. Her heart pounding in her chest, she ran to the large window, looked around desperately to see what had caused the scream. Shaking from the chill that had crept into the room during the night, she couldn’t see anything out the window except for a great white expanse.
As her heartbeat slowed, Ginny forced herself to breath in deeply, to calm herself. She focused all her attention to her hearing, straining to hear anything. The silence of the castle seemed to pound in her head. As the terror that had gripped her in the moments she had been torn from sleep slowly receded, her shaking intensified and she was forced to sit back down on the bed.
Her previously deep breaths became shallow and uneven, and a tight pain began to stab in her chest. Recognizing the beginnings of a panic attack, she gripped the warm blanket in her hands, so tight her knuckles were turning white, and thrust her head between her knees, forcing herself to take long, deep breaths.
Breathe in. Breathe out, Ginny. Don’t think about anything, just breathe. In. Out. In and out, she coached herself, a practice that had once been so natural to her. It had been a year since she’d last awoken in the middle of the night, torn from the safety of sleep and thrust into the terror of a panic attack. She felt as though she’d never stop shaking and that she couldn’t get enough air into her desperate lungs.
In and out. In and out, she repeated to
herself. The practiced technique eventually took hold, and she felt the tight pain in her chest ease. Her breathing returned to normal. Gratefully, she collapsed backwards into the pillows of the bed. Burying herself under the safety of the comforter, the exhaustion she had felt earlier seemed to hit her twice as hard. But she was unable to sleep.
She was haunted by questions. Why now? After so long? I thought I was finally free. Sleep would not come to her for the rest of the night, as she lay in the grip of an intense fear that she had not felt a long time, but was so familiar to her, it was like the return of an old friend.
****
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