Disclaimer: Yeah I think it’s pretty much set in that I don’t own any of the characters.
Second to last chapter!!
* * * * * *
Ginny stared out her window and issued a deep sigh. It was winter break, she was home at the Burrow with all her brothers (except Percy) and it was like old times - she should be happy, but she wasn’t. She had seen Draco only once since the incident in the bar, they’d been on the train home for winter break.
The memory still made her grimace in pain, if only she hadn’t spotted Trevor who’d once again escaped from the hapless Neville. She’d grabbed the toad and turned around to go back to the compartment, when who should she bump into but him. He’d glared at her, and pushing her aside roughly had snarled – “Weasel!”
Incensed yet again by his apparently inexplicable anger, she’d returned in like manner with a well-chosen “Ferret”, that, judging by his expression was one jibe he’d yet to live down. Any momentary satisfaction garnered was sufficiently quashed by the look of absolute hatred given her by Malfoy.
It was Christmas morning and any minute her brothers would wake up…
“Oi! Christmas!” Ron yelled.
She heard someone, most likely Ron, bounding down the stairs. Ron hammered on her door and Ginny sighed. It was going to be a miserable Christmas - she just knew it.
* * * *
The sun was setting and Ginny was back in her room. She had been right - she’d felt for the first time that she was intruding which was stupid since they were her own family, but there it was. Everyone else had been in the best of moods, and she could barely muster a fake smile to plaster on her face. She’d gotten a scarf of deepest jade from Hermione, a set of books on Defense Against the Dark Arts from Harry. Ron had gotten her a box of Chocolate frogs (despite the fact that she’d never been particularly fond of them), Fred and George had gotten her a magnificent set of emerald robes. Charlie had sent her a fine dragon fang necklace, said to bring luck to the wearer. Bill had gotten a book on hexes and Fleur had made her a potion that “zat will ‘ave all boys after you…eet ‘as Veela hair een eet…not that you need ‘eet” she’d given Ginny a wink that made Ginny wonder if maybe Fleur knew something she didn’t. Her father had gotten her a book she’d wanted for awhile, and her mother had made her a Weasley sweater in green again. Ginny fetched another sigh, she didn’t even like green. She had tried to read the book her dad had bought her but her mind couldn’t stay focused on the plot. So she stood by the window instead, watching the snowflakes drift down from the sky. Downstairs she could hear the laughter of her family; she’d asked to be excused immediately after dinner. They didn’t even miss her. The snow was falling rapidly now, and no doubt tomorrow they’d go sledding. This thought brought her no cheer. She squinted out the window; a dark smudge had appeared against the slate-grey sky. She watched in vapid curiosity, as the smudge grew larger. It appeared to be someone astride a broom, although who it could be was beyond her.
Who would be out on Christmas day, in the snow no less?
* * * *
Draco’s Christmas break had been lousy thus far. He had intentionally avoided Ginny on the train, yet somehow they’d nonetheless met up in the corridors. The way she’d reacted to him had not helped. The look of derision she’d shot him had hurt. A lot. Though he was loathe to admit it. His mother’s attendant had been waiting for him at the station. Narcissa rarely made such journeys as it was tedious and lacked class - waiting for a train like a common wizard that is. He’d noticed Ginny’s mum was there, and could hardly have missed the fuss the woman had made over her only daughter. Narcissa of course had made a fuss over him at home in her own way, kissing him twice on the cheek and murmuring distractedly that his hair might be getting long. His mother was busy planning the gala Christmas Ball that was held annually at the Malfoy Manor, a task she could no doubt have delegated to the house elves, but for the fact that “They always manage to mess up the simplest thing without explicit direction.” Or so she said.
Christmas gifts had been exchanged promptly at the hour of ten in the morning- Narcissa and Lucius had always loathed waking up early. Little fuss was made over gifts as such actions were tasteless. Christmas was, after all, about having to suffer the company of those who you couldn’t stand but put up with anyway. He’d had to endure an hour in the company of his grandmother, Mathilda Malfoy, a stern, stiff old witch who had a sneer that far surpassed any he could make- though she got loads more practice as she wore such an expression of disapproval whenever Draco saw her (which was thankfully seldom). Whether she reserved it merely for his company or all the time was something he had often pondered. She had given him a book on the Dark Arts, which she knew he would enjoy. It was called The Depths of Death and seemed to have been written by his grandfather- Abraxas Malfoy, who was now dead. It promised to be a fascinating read. His mother had given him emerald dress robes and amazingly a Saber 6000 – the fastest broom on the market – three times as fast as the old Firebolt model, it went from zero to 120 in .3 seconds. His father, oddly enough had not given him anything, saying that his present would come later. He promised, with a wink, that his present would be even better than a Saber 6000. Draco wondered idly for a minute what could possibly be better than a Saber 6000, when it hit him…
* * * *
The Christmas Ball was over promptly at 9 o’clock. Narcissa retired to her chambers after the last guest had exited the manor grounds, bidding the house elves to take care of cleaning up the post- party disarray, which was about the only thing she trusted them to complete on their own. Draco had made a big deal of yawning and rubbing his eyes, hoping against hope that his father would allow him to retire as well. However, no such luck: “Draco follow me into my private chambers,” his father had snapped. Draco’s heart plummeted with a speed that a Saber 6000 would be hard pressed to match. He followed his father, trying not to imagine this as his own death march. Here it was - Draco Malfoy’s demise, well at least Potter and Weasel King would be able to crow over the fact that he’d attained the ultimate mark of treachery. This would merely provide them with the final proof that he was in fact scum, and thus justify for them all the altercations that had occurred over the last six years.
He wondered for one minute, how Ginny’d react to his metamorphosis. She’d probably be happy, wouldn’t she? No, she’d be disappointed, and not just that. He just knew that she’d wonder for the rest of her life if she could have in fact halted his decent into darkness. Had she not offered to shield him? Not that he didn’t regret spurning her offer. She was too good for scum such as him. Scum. Well, what do you know, it seemed Potter was right for once in his life. Imagine that. But for Ginny, the entire world would be satisfied with his transformation. After all, would he not finally fulfill their expectations. From birth it seemed everyone had had only one expectation for him and now he would prove them all correct. Wouldn’t they all be delighted to say sagely, ‘Well I knew it from the first; it was really no surprise to me.’ But Ginny…
“Boy!” His father barked. “Pay attention you fool! I’m about to bless you beyond your wildest imaginings! Now bend your knee and recite after me…I solemnly swear my undying allegiance…”
* * * * * *
Second to last chapter!!
* * * * * *
Ginny stared out her window and issued a deep sigh. It was winter break, she was home at the Burrow with all her brothers (except Percy) and it was like old times - she should be happy, but she wasn’t. She had seen Draco only once since the incident in the bar, they’d been on the train home for winter break.
The memory still made her grimace in pain, if only she hadn’t spotted Trevor who’d once again escaped from the hapless Neville. She’d grabbed the toad and turned around to go back to the compartment, when who should she bump into but him. He’d glared at her, and pushing her aside roughly had snarled – “Weasel!”
Incensed yet again by his apparently inexplicable anger, she’d returned in like manner with a well-chosen “Ferret”, that, judging by his expression was one jibe he’d yet to live down. Any momentary satisfaction garnered was sufficiently quashed by the look of absolute hatred given her by Malfoy.
It was Christmas morning and any minute her brothers would wake up…
“Oi! Christmas!” Ron yelled.
She heard someone, most likely Ron, bounding down the stairs. Ron hammered on her door and Ginny sighed. It was going to be a miserable Christmas - she just knew it.
* * * *
The sun was setting and Ginny was back in her room. She had been right - she’d felt for the first time that she was intruding which was stupid since they were her own family, but there it was. Everyone else had been in the best of moods, and she could barely muster a fake smile to plaster on her face. She’d gotten a scarf of deepest jade from Hermione, a set of books on Defense Against the Dark Arts from Harry. Ron had gotten her a box of Chocolate frogs (despite the fact that she’d never been particularly fond of them), Fred and George had gotten her a magnificent set of emerald robes. Charlie had sent her a fine dragon fang necklace, said to bring luck to the wearer. Bill had gotten a book on hexes and Fleur had made her a potion that “zat will ‘ave all boys after you…eet ‘as Veela hair een eet…not that you need ‘eet” she’d given Ginny a wink that made Ginny wonder if maybe Fleur knew something she didn’t. Her father had gotten her a book she’d wanted for awhile, and her mother had made her a Weasley sweater in green again. Ginny fetched another sigh, she didn’t even like green. She had tried to read the book her dad had bought her but her mind couldn’t stay focused on the plot. So she stood by the window instead, watching the snowflakes drift down from the sky. Downstairs she could hear the laughter of her family; she’d asked to be excused immediately after dinner. They didn’t even miss her. The snow was falling rapidly now, and no doubt tomorrow they’d go sledding. This thought brought her no cheer. She squinted out the window; a dark smudge had appeared against the slate-grey sky. She watched in vapid curiosity, as the smudge grew larger. It appeared to be someone astride a broom, although who it could be was beyond her.
Who would be out on Christmas day, in the snow no less?
* * * *
Draco’s Christmas break had been lousy thus far. He had intentionally avoided Ginny on the train, yet somehow they’d nonetheless met up in the corridors. The way she’d reacted to him had not helped. The look of derision she’d shot him had hurt. A lot. Though he was loathe to admit it. His mother’s attendant had been waiting for him at the station. Narcissa rarely made such journeys as it was tedious and lacked class - waiting for a train like a common wizard that is. He’d noticed Ginny’s mum was there, and could hardly have missed the fuss the woman had made over her only daughter. Narcissa of course had made a fuss over him at home in her own way, kissing him twice on the cheek and murmuring distractedly that his hair might be getting long. His mother was busy planning the gala Christmas Ball that was held annually at the Malfoy Manor, a task she could no doubt have delegated to the house elves, but for the fact that “They always manage to mess up the simplest thing without explicit direction.” Or so she said.
Christmas gifts had been exchanged promptly at the hour of ten in the morning- Narcissa and Lucius had always loathed waking up early. Little fuss was made over gifts as such actions were tasteless. Christmas was, after all, about having to suffer the company of those who you couldn’t stand but put up with anyway. He’d had to endure an hour in the company of his grandmother, Mathilda Malfoy, a stern, stiff old witch who had a sneer that far surpassed any he could make- though she got loads more practice as she wore such an expression of disapproval whenever Draco saw her (which was thankfully seldom). Whether she reserved it merely for his company or all the time was something he had often pondered. She had given him a book on the Dark Arts, which she knew he would enjoy. It was called The Depths of Death and seemed to have been written by his grandfather- Abraxas Malfoy, who was now dead. It promised to be a fascinating read. His mother had given him emerald dress robes and amazingly a Saber 6000 – the fastest broom on the market – three times as fast as the old Firebolt model, it went from zero to 120 in .3 seconds. His father, oddly enough had not given him anything, saying that his present would come later. He promised, with a wink, that his present would be even better than a Saber 6000. Draco wondered idly for a minute what could possibly be better than a Saber 6000, when it hit him…
* * * *
The Christmas Ball was over promptly at 9 o’clock. Narcissa retired to her chambers after the last guest had exited the manor grounds, bidding the house elves to take care of cleaning up the post- party disarray, which was about the only thing she trusted them to complete on their own. Draco had made a big deal of yawning and rubbing his eyes, hoping against hope that his father would allow him to retire as well. However, no such luck: “Draco follow me into my private chambers,” his father had snapped. Draco’s heart plummeted with a speed that a Saber 6000 would be hard pressed to match. He followed his father, trying not to imagine this as his own death march. Here it was - Draco Malfoy’s demise, well at least Potter and Weasel King would be able to crow over the fact that he’d attained the ultimate mark of treachery. This would merely provide them with the final proof that he was in fact scum, and thus justify for them all the altercations that had occurred over the last six years.
He wondered for one minute, how Ginny’d react to his metamorphosis. She’d probably be happy, wouldn’t she? No, she’d be disappointed, and not just that. He just knew that she’d wonder for the rest of her life if she could have in fact halted his decent into darkness. Had she not offered to shield him? Not that he didn’t regret spurning her offer. She was too good for scum such as him. Scum. Well, what do you know, it seemed Potter was right for once in his life. Imagine that. But for Ginny, the entire world would be satisfied with his transformation. After all, would he not finally fulfill their expectations. From birth it seemed everyone had had only one expectation for him and now he would prove them all correct. Wouldn’t they all be delighted to say sagely, ‘Well I knew it from the first; it was really no surprise to me.’ But Ginny…
“Boy!” His father barked. “Pay attention you fool! I’m about to bless you beyond your wildest imaginings! Now bend your knee and recite after me…I solemnly swear my undying allegiance…”
* * * * * *
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