Chapter 20: A Weight Lifted
The weight of terror was pressing down on her, drowning her. Gasping for air, she struggled to stand, to move, to shed the shroud of fear that the nightmare had cast on her. Flailing around for the lamp on the nightstand beside the bed, she willed herself to wake up, to break free of her nightmare.
Her clumsy reach sent the lamp crashing to the ground, casting the room once again into darkness. Using all of her willpower to stand up and try to overcome the powerful sleeping potion she had taken before going to bed, she lifted herself off the bed.
“Ginny! Behind you!”
Stumbling blindly in the dark, her foot crunching over the broken glass of the lamp, she whirled around, searching for the voice, searching for the danger it was warning of.
“Behind you! Behind you!”
“There’s nothing there!” she protested weakly, her eyes half-closed as she fought off the sleeping potions’ effect.
The weight of the darkness was pressing down on her, making it impossible to breath, to even move.
She had to get out of the house, away from the power that was bringing these nightmares back. Conscious thought was fighting against the memories of her subconscious, battling for control. She had to get out.
A brilliant flash of green light illuminated in the darkness, and he fell with a sickening thud against the ground.
“NO!” she screamed in the dark, running towards what only she could see, desperate to change the events that had happened so long ago. She tripped and nearly fell, as her foot stung painfully. She could hear the crash of the door opening and a voice echoing, so very far away. It was clouded by the laugh. The cold, maniacal laugh that haunted her, that chilled her to the bone and was blocking out every other sound.
It was getting desperately harder to breath. She was gasping, sobbing for air, to shake off the terror that was controlling her. With a cry of pain, she forced her eyes to fully open, to focus in the dark. A dark figure outlined by the light streaming in through the open door was standing before her, calling her name. She took a shaky step forward, reaching out, catching a shining glimpse of silvery eyes in the dark.
She willed her eyes to see, her limbs to move and her ears to hear.
“Virginia, is everything all right?” his voice broke through the distortion of the nightmare. His hand was reaching out to support her as she stumbled forward.
“Draco, help me get away from here,” she managed to choke out, between wheezing gasps for air, before the world turned black, and she collapsed.
* * * * *
Someone had opened the drapes in her room, and the bright sunshine of morning was currently trying to blind her through her closed eyelids. Ginny stretched lazily, sighing in the warmth of the light, and cautiously opened her eyes. Wincing in the confounded brightness that invaded her sight, she turned her head away and buried it in the blanket covering her. After a few moments, she gasped as the prickling feeling of soft grass brushed her cheek and she realized she had no idea where she was and how she got there.
Tentatively pushing the blanket that covered her face down from over her eyes, she sat up as she recognized where she was. She was lying underneath the ancient oak tree by the pond in the middle of the secret grove hidden in the middle of the labyrinth. As she sat up, she realized that what she thought was a blanket was indeed a long black robe. Folding it back and away from her, she surveyed the area, searching for its owner. As she took in the landscape, she was startled as she realized that she felt as if a giant weight had been lifted off of her shoulders, and as though she could breath freely.
She spotted him easily, across the field, standing among the herd. Dressed, as per usual, all in black, he was an incredible contrast to the silvery creature whose head he was stroking. She watched in awe, as he leaned over, laying his head against the unicorn’s neck as an owner would to a beloved pet. She was struck by the tenderness she could see; the ease and the bond that seemed to exist between human and magical creature. If he doesn’t soon start acting again like the bloody bastard he was from Hogwarts…I don’t know how to handle him, she thought to herself as she watched him. Just when she thought she had pegged, he shifted things around and she was left, again, guessing what the best strategy would be to deal with him.
She looked around her, and let her eyes drink in the peace and beauty around her. The ancient magic of the meadow seemed to seep into her skin, reviving her spirits and banishing the fear that had been growing the more time she spent in that house. Draco had brought here there. He had helped her when she was the most vulnerable she’d been in years. No one had seen her in the midst of a panic attack in years – he was the first to ever see her when she was trapped in one of the nightmares. Shaking her head, to quell the mental listing of his endearing qualities her subconscious was beginning to draft, she stood up, letting the cloak slide to the ground.
She shivered slightly as her warm skin was greeted by an icy wind, and she noticed that she was wearing only the flimsy little shift she had worn to bed. Her face colored slightly, as she picked up the discarded cloak and wrapped it around herself, and began to make her way over to where Draco was standing.
* * * * *
He turned, catching a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye. He caught sight of her as she walked towards him, and his breath caught in his throat. She looked small and fragile, engulfed in his dark cloak, which was ridiculously too large for her, her arms crossed protectively in front of her. And yet, the breeze caught her hair, that was not tied back for once, blowing the long strands around wildly, and he searched her eyes, and saw the wild, passionate spirit that she often kept hidden and trapped beneath her layers of ice. She was a complicated contradiction, and it fascinated him to no end.
He was running out of excuses. The first time he had kissed her, he had excused it as a part of the ploy; a way to keep off track, to throw her off and to unsettle her. The time in the hallway was to silence her, as his cousin walked by and could have easily overheard their conversation. But the night before…there was no reason for that, beyond his own personal desire to kiss her. Their “partnership”, based on the agreement that she would help him, was becoming dangerous to them both. She was unwilling or unable to let anyone get close to her, and he was coming very close to doing that. He was at a point in his life where there was no place for any woman, especially not a Weasley and a Ministry wizard!
She is a Weasley, he had to keep reminding himself. You and her brother hate each other, and Potter is your mortal enemy. Your father and hers hated each other. We were in opposite houses, we are complete opposites. She is a damn WEASLEY! The voices in his head were constantly shouting at him, as he watched her walk closer to him. It was more difficult to accept someone as an equal than it was to learn to hate, and his father had taught his lesson well. His defense of Ginny to Gabrielle the night before came back to him and he remembered his words to her: And how do you suggest I make things right, Gabrielle? The traditional Malfoy way, where we use whoever we can to serve our purposes and damn the consequences to them?
The problem was that he did not know what was out there, what was working magic against the Malfoys. He didn’t know the strength of it, or its intent – only that the destruction of the Malfoy’s promise to protect the sanctuary for life was in danger, as well as the creatures themselves. His duty as a Malfoy – and his burning desire to right the wrong his own father had created, needed to come first.
His emotions could not get in the way. Nothing could – not even the fascinating little redhead that was making her way towards him.
* * * * *
“Unicorns are known to be very shy around men, Malfoy, but they seem to trust you completely,” Ginny said, as she approached the center of the herd, noticing how most of the creatures sidestepped away out of her reach, keeping their distance from her.
“I grew up among them, they don’t have any reason to fear me. I’m a Malfoy. I’m one of those working to protect them,” he explained, his voice cool and stony.
“I see,” Ginny whispered, as she tentatively reached out to stroke the flank of the unicorn that Draco was stroking. She sighed softly as her fingers brushed the silvery coat, marveling at the feeling of peace that overwhelmed her upon contact.
“Weasley, I realize that your genetic pool predisposes you to bouts of stupidity, but perhaps you could at least try to overcome that disadvantage,” he suddenly said, breaking the silence. Ginny’s head snapped up; any thoughts she’d been having of how much he’d changed from the prat she’d known before, or of the endearing qualities she was coming to know vanished the moment her family was insulted, and she felt her temper begin to boil dangerously.
“Bouts of stupidity?” she seethed.
“Have I not warned you of the danger here? Can I not make it any clearer that you need to always be on your guard? Taking a strong sleeping potion that you cannot be roused from is one of the most foolish things you could have possible done!” he raged.
“If you hadn’t trapped me in a house with a bloody Death Eater, I wouldn’t have had to take it!” she yelled back. The herd surrounding them, upon hearing their raised voices, grew unsettled and restless.
“What does that have to do with anything?” he demanded. Ginny paused, wondering how much she could trust him with.
“Look, I have my end of the deal covered. I’ll be rewriting the Cooperation Act where it concerns Bulgaria, I’ll pitch it to Fudge in a few days, and once I have his approval, all you have to do is get me a meeting with Bulgaria’s Minister, and that danger is over. And then I’m done with you, and all of your Malfoy business. So let’s just leave everything at that,” she cried, her eyes narrowed. Draco gave her a searching look, knowing that she was changing the subject away from the subject she did not want to address.
“Fine. We’d best get back to the house before everyone is awake and sees us coming,” he said, voice hard and cold, as he walked away without a backward glance to make sure that she was following.
* * * * *
“Good morning, Virginia,” Elizabeth said, as Ginny entered the kitchen later that morning, showered and dressed, erasing all remnants from her night spent outdoors.
“How are you this morning?” Ginny asked with a smile as she was given a cup of tea and pushed into a seat at the table with Sarah and Danika.
“Terrible!” was Sarah’s reply. Ginny looked at the girl, and noted her surly face and fantastic scowl. Definitely a Malfoy trait, Ginny laughed to herself.
“Sarah was all prepared to do some shopping today in your Diagon Alley. She had a parcel to pick up at Flourish and Blotts, but when she got there, she found everything closed and the place practically deserted,” Elizabeth explained.
“Apparently it is some great holiday for all of you British wizards,” Sarah mumbled. Ginny felt her blood run cold as she heard this.
“I’m sorry, what day is it?” she asked quietly, clutching at the warm cup of tea to keep her hands from shaking.
“The 17th of December,” Danika answered. Ginny shot up out of her chair, startling the woman around the table.
“I’m so sorry, everyone, but I have to return to Britain. I forgot about an appointment I have that I can’t possibly miss,” she said shakily, as she backed out of the room, hurriedly. “If you could please tell Draco that I’ll return later tonight?”
“Of course, dear. Are you alright?” Elizabeth asked, following her to the edge of the room, noting Ginny’s face had gone white, as though all the blood had drained out of it and that she was shaking.
“I’m fine. Just…in a hurry, because this is a standing appointment that I shouldn’t have forgotten about, that’s all,” Ginny said, before she took off down the hall, towards the study where the fireplace was kept burning and a pot of Floo Powder awaited her
The weight of terror was pressing down on her, drowning her. Gasping for air, she struggled to stand, to move, to shed the shroud of fear that the nightmare had cast on her. Flailing around for the lamp on the nightstand beside the bed, she willed herself to wake up, to break free of her nightmare.
Her clumsy reach sent the lamp crashing to the ground, casting the room once again into darkness. Using all of her willpower to stand up and try to overcome the powerful sleeping potion she had taken before going to bed, she lifted herself off the bed.
“Ginny! Behind you!”
Stumbling blindly in the dark, her foot crunching over the broken glass of the lamp, she whirled around, searching for the voice, searching for the danger it was warning of.
“Behind you! Behind you!”
“There’s nothing there!” she protested weakly, her eyes half-closed as she fought off the sleeping potions’ effect.
The weight of the darkness was pressing down on her, making it impossible to breath, to even move.
She had to get out of the house, away from the power that was bringing these nightmares back. Conscious thought was fighting against the memories of her subconscious, battling for control. She had to get out.
A brilliant flash of green light illuminated in the darkness, and he fell with a sickening thud against the ground.
“NO!” she screamed in the dark, running towards what only she could see, desperate to change the events that had happened so long ago. She tripped and nearly fell, as her foot stung painfully. She could hear the crash of the door opening and a voice echoing, so very far away. It was clouded by the laugh. The cold, maniacal laugh that haunted her, that chilled her to the bone and was blocking out every other sound.
It was getting desperately harder to breath. She was gasping, sobbing for air, to shake off the terror that was controlling her. With a cry of pain, she forced her eyes to fully open, to focus in the dark. A dark figure outlined by the light streaming in through the open door was standing before her, calling her name. She took a shaky step forward, reaching out, catching a shining glimpse of silvery eyes in the dark.
She willed her eyes to see, her limbs to move and her ears to hear.
“Virginia, is everything all right?” his voice broke through the distortion of the nightmare. His hand was reaching out to support her as she stumbled forward.
“Draco, help me get away from here,” she managed to choke out, between wheezing gasps for air, before the world turned black, and she collapsed.
* * * * *
Someone had opened the drapes in her room, and the bright sunshine of morning was currently trying to blind her through her closed eyelids. Ginny stretched lazily, sighing in the warmth of the light, and cautiously opened her eyes. Wincing in the confounded brightness that invaded her sight, she turned her head away and buried it in the blanket covering her. After a few moments, she gasped as the prickling feeling of soft grass brushed her cheek and she realized she had no idea where she was and how she got there.
Tentatively pushing the blanket that covered her face down from over her eyes, she sat up as she recognized where she was. She was lying underneath the ancient oak tree by the pond in the middle of the secret grove hidden in the middle of the labyrinth. As she sat up, she realized that what she thought was a blanket was indeed a long black robe. Folding it back and away from her, she surveyed the area, searching for its owner. As she took in the landscape, she was startled as she realized that she felt as if a giant weight had been lifted off of her shoulders, and as though she could breath freely.
She spotted him easily, across the field, standing among the herd. Dressed, as per usual, all in black, he was an incredible contrast to the silvery creature whose head he was stroking. She watched in awe, as he leaned over, laying his head against the unicorn’s neck as an owner would to a beloved pet. She was struck by the tenderness she could see; the ease and the bond that seemed to exist between human and magical creature. If he doesn’t soon start acting again like the bloody bastard he was from Hogwarts…I don’t know how to handle him, she thought to herself as she watched him. Just when she thought she had pegged, he shifted things around and she was left, again, guessing what the best strategy would be to deal with him.
She looked around her, and let her eyes drink in the peace and beauty around her. The ancient magic of the meadow seemed to seep into her skin, reviving her spirits and banishing the fear that had been growing the more time she spent in that house. Draco had brought here there. He had helped her when she was the most vulnerable she’d been in years. No one had seen her in the midst of a panic attack in years – he was the first to ever see her when she was trapped in one of the nightmares. Shaking her head, to quell the mental listing of his endearing qualities her subconscious was beginning to draft, she stood up, letting the cloak slide to the ground.
She shivered slightly as her warm skin was greeted by an icy wind, and she noticed that she was wearing only the flimsy little shift she had worn to bed. Her face colored slightly, as she picked up the discarded cloak and wrapped it around herself, and began to make her way over to where Draco was standing.
* * * * *
He turned, catching a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye. He caught sight of her as she walked towards him, and his breath caught in his throat. She looked small and fragile, engulfed in his dark cloak, which was ridiculously too large for her, her arms crossed protectively in front of her. And yet, the breeze caught her hair, that was not tied back for once, blowing the long strands around wildly, and he searched her eyes, and saw the wild, passionate spirit that she often kept hidden and trapped beneath her layers of ice. She was a complicated contradiction, and it fascinated him to no end.
He was running out of excuses. The first time he had kissed her, he had excused it as a part of the ploy; a way to keep off track, to throw her off and to unsettle her. The time in the hallway was to silence her, as his cousin walked by and could have easily overheard their conversation. But the night before…there was no reason for that, beyond his own personal desire to kiss her. Their “partnership”, based on the agreement that she would help him, was becoming dangerous to them both. She was unwilling or unable to let anyone get close to her, and he was coming very close to doing that. He was at a point in his life where there was no place for any woman, especially not a Weasley and a Ministry wizard!
She is a Weasley, he had to keep reminding himself. You and her brother hate each other, and Potter is your mortal enemy. Your father and hers hated each other. We were in opposite houses, we are complete opposites. She is a damn WEASLEY! The voices in his head were constantly shouting at him, as he watched her walk closer to him. It was more difficult to accept someone as an equal than it was to learn to hate, and his father had taught his lesson well. His defense of Ginny to Gabrielle the night before came back to him and he remembered his words to her: And how do you suggest I make things right, Gabrielle? The traditional Malfoy way, where we use whoever we can to serve our purposes and damn the consequences to them?
The problem was that he did not know what was out there, what was working magic against the Malfoys. He didn’t know the strength of it, or its intent – only that the destruction of the Malfoy’s promise to protect the sanctuary for life was in danger, as well as the creatures themselves. His duty as a Malfoy – and his burning desire to right the wrong his own father had created, needed to come first.
His emotions could not get in the way. Nothing could – not even the fascinating little redhead that was making her way towards him.
* * * * *
“Unicorns are known to be very shy around men, Malfoy, but they seem to trust you completely,” Ginny said, as she approached the center of the herd, noticing how most of the creatures sidestepped away out of her reach, keeping their distance from her.
“I grew up among them, they don’t have any reason to fear me. I’m a Malfoy. I’m one of those working to protect them,” he explained, his voice cool and stony.
“I see,” Ginny whispered, as she tentatively reached out to stroke the flank of the unicorn that Draco was stroking. She sighed softly as her fingers brushed the silvery coat, marveling at the feeling of peace that overwhelmed her upon contact.
“Weasley, I realize that your genetic pool predisposes you to bouts of stupidity, but perhaps you could at least try to overcome that disadvantage,” he suddenly said, breaking the silence. Ginny’s head snapped up; any thoughts she’d been having of how much he’d changed from the prat she’d known before, or of the endearing qualities she was coming to know vanished the moment her family was insulted, and she felt her temper begin to boil dangerously.
“Bouts of stupidity?” she seethed.
“Have I not warned you of the danger here? Can I not make it any clearer that you need to always be on your guard? Taking a strong sleeping potion that you cannot be roused from is one of the most foolish things you could have possible done!” he raged.
“If you hadn’t trapped me in a house with a bloody Death Eater, I wouldn’t have had to take it!” she yelled back. The herd surrounding them, upon hearing their raised voices, grew unsettled and restless.
“What does that have to do with anything?” he demanded. Ginny paused, wondering how much she could trust him with.
“Look, I have my end of the deal covered. I’ll be rewriting the Cooperation Act where it concerns Bulgaria, I’ll pitch it to Fudge in a few days, and once I have his approval, all you have to do is get me a meeting with Bulgaria’s Minister, and that danger is over. And then I’m done with you, and all of your Malfoy business. So let’s just leave everything at that,” she cried, her eyes narrowed. Draco gave her a searching look, knowing that she was changing the subject away from the subject she did not want to address.
“Fine. We’d best get back to the house before everyone is awake and sees us coming,” he said, voice hard and cold, as he walked away without a backward glance to make sure that she was following.
* * * * *
“Good morning, Virginia,” Elizabeth said, as Ginny entered the kitchen later that morning, showered and dressed, erasing all remnants from her night spent outdoors.
“How are you this morning?” Ginny asked with a smile as she was given a cup of tea and pushed into a seat at the table with Sarah and Danika.
“Terrible!” was Sarah’s reply. Ginny looked at the girl, and noted her surly face and fantastic scowl. Definitely a Malfoy trait, Ginny laughed to herself.
“Sarah was all prepared to do some shopping today in your Diagon Alley. She had a parcel to pick up at Flourish and Blotts, but when she got there, she found everything closed and the place practically deserted,” Elizabeth explained.
“Apparently it is some great holiday for all of you British wizards,” Sarah mumbled. Ginny felt her blood run cold as she heard this.
“I’m sorry, what day is it?” she asked quietly, clutching at the warm cup of tea to keep her hands from shaking.
“The 17th of December,” Danika answered. Ginny shot up out of her chair, startling the woman around the table.
“I’m so sorry, everyone, but I have to return to Britain. I forgot about an appointment I have that I can’t possibly miss,” she said shakily, as she backed out of the room, hurriedly. “If you could please tell Draco that I’ll return later tonight?”
“Of course, dear. Are you alright?” Elizabeth asked, following her to the edge of the room, noting Ginny’s face had gone white, as though all the blood had drained out of it and that she was shaking.
“I’m fine. Just…in a hurry, because this is a standing appointment that I shouldn’t have forgotten about, that’s all,” Ginny said, before she took off down the hall, towards the study where the fireplace was kept burning and a pot of Floo Powder awaited her
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