Chapter 1
Come with me, he had whispered.
**
“Ginevra.”
Ginny glanced up to see the tired face of Remus Lupin. He appeared more drained than after a full moon. In the years that had passed, the world had evolved and everything else just followed. No longer did anyone call her ‘Ginny’, for it was reserved for joyous times and those had faded into memory. ‘Ginevra' seemed to reflect the gravity of what her life had become – serious and solemn.
“Yes, Remus?” she inquired, wondering unenthusiastically what he was about to tell her. Possibly a body count, or maybe…
“There is another mission for you.”
Ginny sighed.
**
“Draco.” Voldemort’s high voice hissed. Unlike his early years as a Death Eater, Draco no longer shook in fear of his master. He sometimes fancied that if he were not afraid of the Dark Lord, then there was nothing and no one he feared. Life had indeed changed for him. Soon after Draco became Voldemort’s right hand, Lucius Malfoy mysteriously disappeared. Not one person, either out of fear or indifference, asked what happened to the senior Malfoy.
“Yes, Master?” he responded.
“I have an assignment for you.”
**
It was a small village in Andalusia. The glittering Mediterranean Sea bordered it to the south and everywhere flamenco could be heard. In the midst of the brutal war, it almost seemed as if this place were untouched by the horrors. She had been here before… long ago, before she was forced to choose sides. Even though it was a Muggle village, she felt more at home and at ease here than anywhere else. While the bright sun shined down on the village, she sat in a small bar sipping her red wine. Her back was towards the door, so as to allow her to view the endless sea through the large windows. Soft strumming of the guitar strings floated in the air and the warm ocean breeze swirled around, further calming her. In a world that was so cold, this was the only warm place.
“You’ve lost love before.” A motherly woman set down a glass of water on the table.
“I’m sorry?” Ginny asked, not understanding what the other woman meant.
“I’ve seen enough women and men here to know who has been torn apart from their love. You’re one of them,” the woman smiled before returning to the kitchens.
“Yes, yes I am,” she murmured before tilting the glass back for another sip.
Then the screams came.
People ran amok but none escaped. The door was completely blocked by a group of men and women wearing black robes. Now that the Dark Lord was so powerful, it was no longer necessary for Death Eaters to wear masks to hide their identity.
Ginny never moved from her spot. She sat calmly at her table sipping the dark liquid and watched the gentle waves. That’s how he saw her.
The sunlight was reflected off of her red hair, making her hair more of a golden color. Although he couldn’t see her eyes, he knew they were honey brown with specks of gold. He felt fury bubble over seeing her again, but at the same time he also felt an unexplainable tightening in the vicinity of his heart.
She knew he was watching her. She knew that his ice grey eyes would now be a steel color, burning with hate as he stared at her. She knew that his white blonde hair would contrast with the midnight black of his robes.
He took a few steps closer to her before suddenly storming out of the bar. All the remaining Death Eaters were shocked, but they did not dare question his actions. “Sir! What should we do with-”
“Leave now!” he bellowed at the Death Eater, frightening the man into silence. One by one, each Death Eater left the bar. They felt something so different from darkness there and they were thankful to leave.
Finishing her glass of wine, Ginny finally stood up. “Obliviate”, she muttered, and all the Muggles forgot the entire incident. As she exited the small bar, conversation struck up again between the people and the soft music of the guitar started playing again.
**
He’d had the perfect opportunity. She was right in front of him; he could have so easily killed her, just like what she had done to him all those years ago.
As soon as he had escaped that village, the one that he had gone to many years back, he Apparated back to Malfoy Manor. Sitting in his dark study, he drowned many glasses of firewhiskey, trying to rid himself of the cruel memories that were attacking with a vengeance. Throwing back another glass, he hoped to make all the vivid memories fade away and disappear, but they wouldn’t leave him.
“Sir?” A nervous Death Eater knocked at the door.
“What?” he snapped.
“I-I-I, I mean, w-we were w-w-wondering-” The other Death Eater was soon cut off when Draco grabbed his wand and performed the Cruciatus Curse.
“Next time you talk, don’t stutter, you worthless rat,” he snarled. Watching the other Death Eater writhe brought some comfort to Draco since it took his mind off of that village, at least for a few moments. He finally let Marcus Trent fall to his knees, wheezing for breath and shaking from pain.
“Now, what were you saying?” Draco asked in a sneering voice.
“We were wondering if y-you wanted us to destroy that village as p-planned,” Trent replied, trying his best not to stutter.
“No one touches that village,” Draco said in a quiet voice. This sent Trent crawling into a corner, hiding. Unlike Voldemort who screamed at the Death Eaters, Draco’s calm voice sent shivers down everyone’s spine. It was probably because those quiet words were paired with a glare so cold and murderous, it could freeze fire.
“Y-Y-Yes, sir!” Trent squeaked in a tiny voice before backing out of the room.
Draco was surprised at himself for making that order. Why not destroy that village? There were too many reminders of his youth, too many reminders of her, but he just couldn’t bring himself to demolish that place. Just like he couldn’t kill her.
**
“Ginny, Potter won’t win! Leave with me, I’ll protect you from everything,” Draco told her frantically.
“I can’t, Draco,” she whispered, looking at him with tears threatening to spill over. He stared at her for a minute, before asking, “Is that your final decision?”
“Yes.” Her eyes couldn’t meet his.
Draco’s eyes turned frigid and he immediately let go of her, as if she were burning him. Without another word, he turned and mounted the broom that would take him away from her forever.
She woke up in the middle of the night. For the past few days she had been having the same dream, nightmare actually, over and over again. Those old memories she thought she had long ago buried were all rushing back. They had started when she arrived at the village.
Picking up her discarded robe, she pulled it on before stepping out on the balcony of the hotel. It was the only hotel in the village, the same place she had stayed many years ago. Leaning against the railing, she wondered why she hadn’t rejected the mission. She could have told Remus that she couldn’t face the past - he would have understood, but she had not uttered a word. Possibly, she had lied to herself. Maybe she did want to live in the memories again. What harm could there be in wallowing in the past, a time that had held so much laughter and warmth, so different from now?
She remembered their budding relationship, when he was a sixth year at Hogwarts, and she a fifth. He had warned her there were no promises, telling her he could leave her at any time. Neither of them ever dreamed that it would be she who would leave him in the end.
When they had become public about their relationship, both the male and female populations of Hogwarts cried, but Draco’s and Ginny’s parents cried more. The Malfoys had looked down their aristocratic noses at her, while the Weasleys were appalled and afraid that their only daughter was being handed over to the wolves. Neither cared what their parents thought, each believing that their love could withstand anything and everything. Too quickly did they realize how short innocence lasts, and how quickly reality takes over.
The night he fled Hogwarts, true conflicts started. No longer was it just a family feud but a full-fledged war between two different forces. After he had flown away from her, Ginny completely changed. She didn’t smile, didn’t laugh and barely ate. No matter what her brothers did to try and cheer her up, she never responded.
A year after he left on the train, the first battle of the never-ending war started. Ginny served as a nurse, tending to the wounded. While watching the ground littered with lifeless bodies, she had caught a glimpse of him shooting curses everywhere. Although she couldn’t see the face hidden by the horrid mask, something in her recognized him immediately as that boy she once loved. Knowing that he didn’t see her yet, she had hid behind the pile of dead Aurors. It wasn’t that she was afraid of his rage; it was because she couldn’t face the man she felt she had betrayed.
Ten years had passed since she had seen him. Although they met last night, she still hadn’t seen his face or he hers. How she longed to glance upon that face again, to watch his ever cool expression disappear at her lightest touch. Only fantasies, she knew. Never again would he look at her as if she were the very air he breathed, the goddess he cherished.
Bowing her head, the pale moonlight shone down on her hair. Unlike the sun that turned her hair into a brilliant golden red, the moonlight dulled the rich color. Turning, she headed back into the room, and hoped the night would pass dreamlessly.
**
Looking up at the same pale moon, Draco’s white blond hair shone from the reflected moonlight. Instead of detracting from his beauty, the night made him seem like an angel carved of the most flawless marble.
He also remembered their young love. How foolishly naïve he had been then. He had believed that their “love” could have lasted through the inevitable war, hoping that she would stand by his side. Instead, she had bolted just as the times grew rough. A small part of him knew that he should not have demanded that she leave for the dark with him. That small part also acknowledged the fact that he could not have left the Death Eaters to join her either. But this was always defeated by his self-righteousness and indignation. He had loyalties to his family, to the Dark Lord, to his very name. He couldn’t allow the long-respected name of Malfoy to be smeared.
Of course his loyalties to his family were now gone. He had long since eliminated his father and his mother was in an unknown mental institution. Even the sadistic Bellatrix now bowed to him, fearful of him. The merciless removal of his family from his life, along with the Order, was possibly to avenge the paradise he was robbed of. His parents had disapproved of his relationship with Ginny and the Order seduced her from him. This was the sole driving force of his cruelty, and maybe if he weren’t separated from her, he might be just another nameless Death Eater. He wouldn’t admit it now that he killed because of her, for she meant nothing to him. Nothing.
“Tonight is your second task, Draco. Don’t fail again.”
Draco looked down at the shivering man. Oliver Wood, he remembered. Feeling his stomach churning, Draco shakily took his wand from his pocket.
“I can’t do this, not cold-blooded murder. I can’t,” he thought wildly. Hoping to find some type of motivation, he suddenly remembered seeing Wood smiling with the Weasley family in The Daily Prophet a few days ago.
“Avada Kedavra!” He pointed his wand at the other man’s heart and said those two forbidden words.
He had felt fury so bright knowing that others were laughing with her, while he would never be allowed that luxury again. Never did he take a closer look at the newspaper pictures, to see that Ginny was the only one who never smiled.
Years had passed, and loneliness was a constant companion for him. Night after night, day after day, only death did he see. Many nights he sought companionship in the arms of different women, hoping to pretend for those brief hours that she was with him again. He never admitted to these feelings, believing that they weren’t there, persuading himself that he still hated her.
An expert at seeing through others’ lies, he was blind to his own. He had heard far too many lies, but most were from himself.
**
The warm sun was rising, shining ever so beautifully on the shimmering water. She sat on the white sand with her legs pulled in and her chin resting on her knees.
He held her tightly as they sat admiring the sunrise. She was curled up next to him, and he rested his head on hers.
“I wish we could sit here forever,” she murmured sleepily. Knowing she might feel cold in the morning breeze, he wrapped his own jumper over her shoulders.
Shivering in the cool morning air, there was no one to wrap warmth around her now.
**
He watched from the cliffs surrounding the beach. She only had on a light summer dress.
Fool, he thought. Turning around, he slowly made his way down the cliffs.
**
She knew he was there, though he had made no sound. A bond had formed when they were younger, and it still had not been broken.
“I could kill you right now,” he told her, standing directly behind her.
Smiling wistfully, she did not turn back to face him.
“I know.”
Her cool manner infuriated him. It was as if she were brushing him aside as some random nuisance. Grabbing her by the arm, he Apparated her away with him to his manor. Although his touch had not been gentle and a bruise would form the next day, she uttered no cry of pain.
It was colder in England, dark and bleak. Her thin clothes served as no shield from the biting wind, but she did not shiver. Dragging her into the dungeons, he looked back at her. She looked dead.
Throwing her into one of the rooms where yesterday a prisoner had died, he looked at her through the bars. He had no intention of keeping her in this disgusting prison cell, but he wanted her to know that he could do whatever he wanted with her.
“You’ll begin work tomorrow morning.” Turning briskly, he walked off.
Sitting in the corner of the musty cell, Ginny pulled out a piece of parchment and a small quill. Tearing off a small piece of the parchment, the paper magically grew back into a full sheet. Shaking the quill twice, ink appeared on the tip and she started writing.
Folding the parchment in half, she reached into her pocket again and took out a tiny box that suddenly sprouted two small wings, almost like a snitch. Placing the parchment into the box, she set it free out the window. Watching it fly until it was merely a speck and then completely vanishing from sight, Ginny sighed and tried finding a more comfortable position in the foul room. Sinking down, she thought of what Lupin would receive in a few moments.
Here starts the first day of my mission at Malfoy Manor.
Come with me, he had whispered.
**
“Ginevra.”
Ginny glanced up to see the tired face of Remus Lupin. He appeared more drained than after a full moon. In the years that had passed, the world had evolved and everything else just followed. No longer did anyone call her ‘Ginny’, for it was reserved for joyous times and those had faded into memory. ‘Ginevra' seemed to reflect the gravity of what her life had become – serious and solemn.
“Yes, Remus?” she inquired, wondering unenthusiastically what he was about to tell her. Possibly a body count, or maybe…
“There is another mission for you.”
Ginny sighed.
**
“Draco.” Voldemort’s high voice hissed. Unlike his early years as a Death Eater, Draco no longer shook in fear of his master. He sometimes fancied that if he were not afraid of the Dark Lord, then there was nothing and no one he feared. Life had indeed changed for him. Soon after Draco became Voldemort’s right hand, Lucius Malfoy mysteriously disappeared. Not one person, either out of fear or indifference, asked what happened to the senior Malfoy.
“Yes, Master?” he responded.
“I have an assignment for you.”
**
It was a small village in Andalusia. The glittering Mediterranean Sea bordered it to the south and everywhere flamenco could be heard. In the midst of the brutal war, it almost seemed as if this place were untouched by the horrors. She had been here before… long ago, before she was forced to choose sides. Even though it was a Muggle village, she felt more at home and at ease here than anywhere else. While the bright sun shined down on the village, she sat in a small bar sipping her red wine. Her back was towards the door, so as to allow her to view the endless sea through the large windows. Soft strumming of the guitar strings floated in the air and the warm ocean breeze swirled around, further calming her. In a world that was so cold, this was the only warm place.
“You’ve lost love before.” A motherly woman set down a glass of water on the table.
“I’m sorry?” Ginny asked, not understanding what the other woman meant.
“I’ve seen enough women and men here to know who has been torn apart from their love. You’re one of them,” the woman smiled before returning to the kitchens.
“Yes, yes I am,” she murmured before tilting the glass back for another sip.
Then the screams came.
People ran amok but none escaped. The door was completely blocked by a group of men and women wearing black robes. Now that the Dark Lord was so powerful, it was no longer necessary for Death Eaters to wear masks to hide their identity.
Ginny never moved from her spot. She sat calmly at her table sipping the dark liquid and watched the gentle waves. That’s how he saw her.
The sunlight was reflected off of her red hair, making her hair more of a golden color. Although he couldn’t see her eyes, he knew they were honey brown with specks of gold. He felt fury bubble over seeing her again, but at the same time he also felt an unexplainable tightening in the vicinity of his heart.
She knew he was watching her. She knew that his ice grey eyes would now be a steel color, burning with hate as he stared at her. She knew that his white blonde hair would contrast with the midnight black of his robes.
He took a few steps closer to her before suddenly storming out of the bar. All the remaining Death Eaters were shocked, but they did not dare question his actions. “Sir! What should we do with-”
“Leave now!” he bellowed at the Death Eater, frightening the man into silence. One by one, each Death Eater left the bar. They felt something so different from darkness there and they were thankful to leave.
Finishing her glass of wine, Ginny finally stood up. “Obliviate”, she muttered, and all the Muggles forgot the entire incident. As she exited the small bar, conversation struck up again between the people and the soft music of the guitar started playing again.
**
He’d had the perfect opportunity. She was right in front of him; he could have so easily killed her, just like what she had done to him all those years ago.
As soon as he had escaped that village, the one that he had gone to many years back, he Apparated back to Malfoy Manor. Sitting in his dark study, he drowned many glasses of firewhiskey, trying to rid himself of the cruel memories that were attacking with a vengeance. Throwing back another glass, he hoped to make all the vivid memories fade away and disappear, but they wouldn’t leave him.
“Sir?” A nervous Death Eater knocked at the door.
“What?” he snapped.
“I-I-I, I mean, w-we were w-w-wondering-” The other Death Eater was soon cut off when Draco grabbed his wand and performed the Cruciatus Curse.
“Next time you talk, don’t stutter, you worthless rat,” he snarled. Watching the other Death Eater writhe brought some comfort to Draco since it took his mind off of that village, at least for a few moments. He finally let Marcus Trent fall to his knees, wheezing for breath and shaking from pain.
“Now, what were you saying?” Draco asked in a sneering voice.
“We were wondering if y-you wanted us to destroy that village as p-planned,” Trent replied, trying his best not to stutter.
“No one touches that village,” Draco said in a quiet voice. This sent Trent crawling into a corner, hiding. Unlike Voldemort who screamed at the Death Eaters, Draco’s calm voice sent shivers down everyone’s spine. It was probably because those quiet words were paired with a glare so cold and murderous, it could freeze fire.
“Y-Y-Yes, sir!” Trent squeaked in a tiny voice before backing out of the room.
Draco was surprised at himself for making that order. Why not destroy that village? There were too many reminders of his youth, too many reminders of her, but he just couldn’t bring himself to demolish that place. Just like he couldn’t kill her.
**
“Ginny, Potter won’t win! Leave with me, I’ll protect you from everything,” Draco told her frantically.
“I can’t, Draco,” she whispered, looking at him with tears threatening to spill over. He stared at her for a minute, before asking, “Is that your final decision?”
“Yes.” Her eyes couldn’t meet his.
Draco’s eyes turned frigid and he immediately let go of her, as if she were burning him. Without another word, he turned and mounted the broom that would take him away from her forever.
She woke up in the middle of the night. For the past few days she had been having the same dream, nightmare actually, over and over again. Those old memories she thought she had long ago buried were all rushing back. They had started when she arrived at the village.
Picking up her discarded robe, she pulled it on before stepping out on the balcony of the hotel. It was the only hotel in the village, the same place she had stayed many years ago. Leaning against the railing, she wondered why she hadn’t rejected the mission. She could have told Remus that she couldn’t face the past - he would have understood, but she had not uttered a word. Possibly, she had lied to herself. Maybe she did want to live in the memories again. What harm could there be in wallowing in the past, a time that had held so much laughter and warmth, so different from now?
She remembered their budding relationship, when he was a sixth year at Hogwarts, and she a fifth. He had warned her there were no promises, telling her he could leave her at any time. Neither of them ever dreamed that it would be she who would leave him in the end.
When they had become public about their relationship, both the male and female populations of Hogwarts cried, but Draco’s and Ginny’s parents cried more. The Malfoys had looked down their aristocratic noses at her, while the Weasleys were appalled and afraid that their only daughter was being handed over to the wolves. Neither cared what their parents thought, each believing that their love could withstand anything and everything. Too quickly did they realize how short innocence lasts, and how quickly reality takes over.
The night he fled Hogwarts, true conflicts started. No longer was it just a family feud but a full-fledged war between two different forces. After he had flown away from her, Ginny completely changed. She didn’t smile, didn’t laugh and barely ate. No matter what her brothers did to try and cheer her up, she never responded.
A year after he left on the train, the first battle of the never-ending war started. Ginny served as a nurse, tending to the wounded. While watching the ground littered with lifeless bodies, she had caught a glimpse of him shooting curses everywhere. Although she couldn’t see the face hidden by the horrid mask, something in her recognized him immediately as that boy she once loved. Knowing that he didn’t see her yet, she had hid behind the pile of dead Aurors. It wasn’t that she was afraid of his rage; it was because she couldn’t face the man she felt she had betrayed.
Ten years had passed since she had seen him. Although they met last night, she still hadn’t seen his face or he hers. How she longed to glance upon that face again, to watch his ever cool expression disappear at her lightest touch. Only fantasies, she knew. Never again would he look at her as if she were the very air he breathed, the goddess he cherished.
Bowing her head, the pale moonlight shone down on her hair. Unlike the sun that turned her hair into a brilliant golden red, the moonlight dulled the rich color. Turning, she headed back into the room, and hoped the night would pass dreamlessly.
**
Looking up at the same pale moon, Draco’s white blond hair shone from the reflected moonlight. Instead of detracting from his beauty, the night made him seem like an angel carved of the most flawless marble.
He also remembered their young love. How foolishly naïve he had been then. He had believed that their “love” could have lasted through the inevitable war, hoping that she would stand by his side. Instead, she had bolted just as the times grew rough. A small part of him knew that he should not have demanded that she leave for the dark with him. That small part also acknowledged the fact that he could not have left the Death Eaters to join her either. But this was always defeated by his self-righteousness and indignation. He had loyalties to his family, to the Dark Lord, to his very name. He couldn’t allow the long-respected name of Malfoy to be smeared.
Of course his loyalties to his family were now gone. He had long since eliminated his father and his mother was in an unknown mental institution. Even the sadistic Bellatrix now bowed to him, fearful of him. The merciless removal of his family from his life, along with the Order, was possibly to avenge the paradise he was robbed of. His parents had disapproved of his relationship with Ginny and the Order seduced her from him. This was the sole driving force of his cruelty, and maybe if he weren’t separated from her, he might be just another nameless Death Eater. He wouldn’t admit it now that he killed because of her, for she meant nothing to him. Nothing.
“Tonight is your second task, Draco. Don’t fail again.”
Draco looked down at the shivering man. Oliver Wood, he remembered. Feeling his stomach churning, Draco shakily took his wand from his pocket.
“I can’t do this, not cold-blooded murder. I can’t,” he thought wildly. Hoping to find some type of motivation, he suddenly remembered seeing Wood smiling with the Weasley family in The Daily Prophet a few days ago.
“Avada Kedavra!” He pointed his wand at the other man’s heart and said those two forbidden words.
He had felt fury so bright knowing that others were laughing with her, while he would never be allowed that luxury again. Never did he take a closer look at the newspaper pictures, to see that Ginny was the only one who never smiled.
Years had passed, and loneliness was a constant companion for him. Night after night, day after day, only death did he see. Many nights he sought companionship in the arms of different women, hoping to pretend for those brief hours that she was with him again. He never admitted to these feelings, believing that they weren’t there, persuading himself that he still hated her.
An expert at seeing through others’ lies, he was blind to his own. He had heard far too many lies, but most were from himself.
**
The warm sun was rising, shining ever so beautifully on the shimmering water. She sat on the white sand with her legs pulled in and her chin resting on her knees.
He held her tightly as they sat admiring the sunrise. She was curled up next to him, and he rested his head on hers.
“I wish we could sit here forever,” she murmured sleepily. Knowing she might feel cold in the morning breeze, he wrapped his own jumper over her shoulders.
Shivering in the cool morning air, there was no one to wrap warmth around her now.
**
He watched from the cliffs surrounding the beach. She only had on a light summer dress.
Fool, he thought. Turning around, he slowly made his way down the cliffs.
**
She knew he was there, though he had made no sound. A bond had formed when they were younger, and it still had not been broken.
“I could kill you right now,” he told her, standing directly behind her.
Smiling wistfully, she did not turn back to face him.
“I know.”
Her cool manner infuriated him. It was as if she were brushing him aside as some random nuisance. Grabbing her by the arm, he Apparated her away with him to his manor. Although his touch had not been gentle and a bruise would form the next day, she uttered no cry of pain.
It was colder in England, dark and bleak. Her thin clothes served as no shield from the biting wind, but she did not shiver. Dragging her into the dungeons, he looked back at her. She looked dead.
Throwing her into one of the rooms where yesterday a prisoner had died, he looked at her through the bars. He had no intention of keeping her in this disgusting prison cell, but he wanted her to know that he could do whatever he wanted with her.
“You’ll begin work tomorrow morning.” Turning briskly, he walked off.
Sitting in the corner of the musty cell, Ginny pulled out a piece of parchment and a small quill. Tearing off a small piece of the parchment, the paper magically grew back into a full sheet. Shaking the quill twice, ink appeared on the tip and she started writing.
Folding the parchment in half, she reached into her pocket again and took out a tiny box that suddenly sprouted two small wings, almost like a snitch. Placing the parchment into the box, she set it free out the window. Watching it fly until it was merely a speck and then completely vanishing from sight, Ginny sighed and tried finding a more comfortable position in the foul room. Sinking down, she thought of what Lupin would receive in a few moments.
Here starts the first day of my mission at Malfoy Manor.
To Be Continued.
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