Draco was exhausted as he crept out of the Room of Requirement. He’d been tinkering with the broken Vanishing Cabinet for hours. He’d used spell after spell and had produced no results.
He mopped his brow with a handkerchief as he dragged his feet towards the dungeons. Crabbe and Goyle had asked if they could help him tonight, but he’d turned them away. It had to be nearly midnight by now. He had Transfiguration right after breakfast the next day.
Draco muttered his House password and slid through the entrance quietly. The common room was predictably empty. There was still a small fire going, indicating that there had been students present not too long before. He was about to retreat to his dormitory when he changed his mind.
Taking his schoolbag with him, Draco found a cozy armchair by the fire. He pulled out a book he’d taken from the library, The Muggle Races, by Anton Dragomir.
He flipped through the pages until he found the section he was looking for.
Anti-Semitism, or hostility towards Jews (see Chapter 8 for more information on this), has existed in Muggle history since the rise of Christianity (see Chapter 9 for more information on this) as the dominant belief system in Europe.
As German leader Adolf Hitler began to amass power in Germany, he feared the rise of the United States and aimed to unite Europe against this potential enemy. At the same time, he feared Russian Communism (see Chapter 11 for more information on this). Hitler used fear and propaganda to develop his ideas of blood purity and racial ideology.
Most German Muggles were quite unaware of the nature of Hitler’s grand plan, as the idea of a unified Europe enticed them. Nazism, the name given to Hitler’s policies during the time period, was very appealing to the ordinary German. Hitler began to strengthen his hold on the curriculum and teachers in school, which very subtly implemented Nazi ideas into the minds of young people-
A soft creak interrupted Draco’s reading. He jerked his head up to see Crabbe approaching him in his nightclothes.
Draco jumped in his chair a little. “Merlin, Crabbe! You could’ve said something.”
“Sorry. Wanted to see how the thing in the Room went.”
Draco eyed Crabbe suspiciously. Crabbe and Goyle knew that Draco was doing something important in the Room of Requirement, but they certainly didn’t know what. He’d been appreciative of their help in keeping watch outside of the Room during the day, but he didn’t trust the two of them to inform them what the plan was this early on.
“Not great, but I’ll just try again, as always,” Draco said, his voice ending in a whisper.
Crabbe shrugged. “You know, my father’s been telling me-“
“Crabbe, I’m trying to do some reading here, if you don’t mind,” Draco said coldly, returning his gaze back to his book.
He missed Crabbe’s furrowed brow and scowl as he clambered back up the stairs towards their dormitory.
He tried to read on, but his heavy eyelids were begging for sleep. Draco studied a picture of Nazi officers waving a red flag with a peculiar symbol on it before slamming the book shut and following after Crabbe, his head swimming with thoughts on Hitler and Germany.
Draco awoke the next morning feeling groggy. He’d had a series of dreams, one where Death Eaters flew into Hogwarts on brooms, each waving the same red flag Draco had seen a picture of. He shuddered.
“How’d your Transfiguration essay go, mate?” Blaise asked him, as he tied his shoelaces together.
Draco groaned as he raked a hand through his hair. “Curses, I forgot about the bloody thing.”
Blaise glanced at his watch. “You could always skip breakfast and work on it.”
Draco’s stomach took this opportunity to growl impolitely. “I don’t think that’s going to work out well. One missed essay can’t kill me.”
He and Blaise made their way to the Great Hall and found seats at the Slytherin table. Draco was halfway through buttering a croissant when he could feel a pair of eyes staring at him. He looked down his table and noticed a young blonde haired girl peering at him over a copy of The Daily Prophet. When she noticed him looking her way, he expected her to quickly avert her gaze in embarrassment. But the girl was bold enough to blink her long-lashed eyes and give him a ghost of a smile before turning to engage her friend in casual conversation.
“Daphne’s sister,” Blaise told him.
“What?” Draco scowled at him. He didn’t like Blaise observing him so carefully.
“The girl with the paper who’s been ogling you all breakfast. Her name’s Astoria.”
“Okay,” Draco said indifferently, continuing to butter his croissant.
“I’m taking Tracey to the Ball,” Blaise said.
“Good for you.”
“Well?”
Draco sighed. “Well what?”
“What about you?”
“That’s the last thing on my mind right now.”
“Make amends with Pansy and take her.”
Draco laughed humorlessly. “You’ve got to be joking.”
“What about your lovely new friend, Girl Weasley?” Blaise smirked at him.
“I’d very much like to keep my breakfast this morning, Blaise.”
Blaise laughed and this time Draco joined him genuinely.
”Will you help us put together an after party in Slytherin?” Blaise had a look of mischief dancing in his eyes.
Draco smirked. “Sure.” He had so much going on in his life right now; he was thirsting after outlets to behave like a real teenager.
When Draco arrived at Transfiguration, he found that McGonagall wasn’t going to let him go with a missed assignment. She was not only going to make him write an essay twice as long as the other students, he was to do this while serving a detention during the upcoming trip to Hogsmeade.
This was upsetting to Draco, not because of the detention itself, but because he was to go forth with the Dark Lord’s plan that day. He’d been sweating bullets over the package from Borgin and Burke’s for so long now. He needed to get rid of it.
He left his Transfiguration class with the pretense of fuming, when he was actually shaking in the knees. None of his Slytherin classmates dared to follow after him. Sure, he was angry with McGonagall for punishing him so severely, but he was afraid. What if it doesn’t work? How will I do it then?
Draco loosened his tie so he could breathe. He was suddenly feeling very warm.
I need to think.
There were Hogwarts students swarming the hallways. It made him feel claustrophobic. Their shining, smiling faces made him sick. The resonating sound of laughter made his head spin. In his misery, he docked twenty points from a third year Hufflepuff student just for being in his way.
They’re everywhere. Where do I go?
And Draco headed towards the only place he could think of to find refuge - Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.
__________________
Ginny was trying hard to concentrate on the pages in front of her as she sat in the school library. She’d try to convince her Muggle Studies group to work on presenting another weapon, but Malfoy hadn’t let up on the atomic bomb.
She hadn’t wanted to mention anything to her group mates, seeing as she barely knew most of them, but there had been a reason for her reservations on the subject.
Ginny’s great-uncle, Ignatius Prewett, had died during a German bombing raid in Britain during the Second Great Muggle War. Her father had explained the nature of Muggle warfare to her and it always moved her to tears to hear how horrid people could be to each other in order to justify their leaders’ gains.
Her mother had been just a little girl when Ignatius had died, but she had named her third son in his memory. When the first war against You-Know-Who had come about, the Death Eaters expected Ginny’s parents to join, given their blood purity and the fact that Molly had lost a relative to Muggle atrocities. The two Weasleys had sent them packing.
Ginny slammed the book she was reading shut. She stretched her feet out and drummed her fingers along the tabletop.
She noticed Draco Malfoy enter the library. He glanced around shiftily before making his way towards a bookshelf. He disappeared. She gazed intently towards the direction he’d walked and waited for him to retreat. After a few moments he emerged, clutching two books. His tie was undone, hanging loose around his neck. He walked by her table without even glancing at her.
Well that’s just fine, she thought.
It was getting late so Ginny decided she should probably leave. She rose to her feet, slung her schoolbag over her shoulder and left. Unfortunately for her, she ended up in step with Malfoy as she made her way down the hallway out of the library.
She kept her gaze straight ahead and made no indication of acknowledging him. She noticed that he had begun to slow down his pace so as to avoid walking alongside her. Ginny smirked at the absurdity of it all. She dared to casually glance over her shoulder as though she was checking out the sculptures and suits of armor standing along the wall.
He was staring at the stone floor but briefly lift his gaze to meet her eyes. Malfoy scowled.
Their silent interaction was interrupted when Ginny missed the foot of a suit of armor and tripped head first. She landed roughly on the palms of her hands.
Malfoy snorted unkindly. Her hands were really smarting, but she prayed he’d continue walking and leave her be.
When a pair of shiny black Tergus loafers met her watering eyes, Ginny cursed to herself. She attempted to lift herself off the ground but he was kneeling in front of her and offered a hand.
Ginny refused to take it and stood. She stood face-to-face with Malfoy. His expression was unreadable, but it certainly wasn’t cruel. His blond tresses were dangling over his eyes. His gaze was steady and piercing. For a brief moment she felt like tugging at the loose ends of his tie and pulling him closer towards her. Her face flushed.
A little bit of bile rise up in her throat as she realized what she was thinking. She swiped away at the tears on her face with a robed arm. She stared at him as he lifted her schoolbag off the ground and handed it back to her silently. Ginny was expecting a nasty remark, but none came.
She mumbled a barely coherent ‘thank you’ and continued her way towards the Gryffindor tower.
“Malfoy, two, Weasley, zero,” a voice called out after her.
Ginny turned around to face him, puzzled.
“I’ve offered to help you twice now,” he said. “You owe me.”
“I owe you nothing.” She sneered at him.
He smirked at her, the glow of the moon illuminating his face. “I’ll call for the favor at some point.”
“Nobody asked you to help me,” she said, glaring at him.
“Ah, but a gentleman always helps a woman, whether she’s a lady or not.”
And there was the real Malfoy.
“And a true gentleman never asks for anything in return,” she bit back. She was about to leave again, but stopped in her tracks. “What’s your problem, anyway, Malfoy?”
He stepped towards her, his expression still blank. “Whatever do you mean?”
She inched backward. “I’m sick of your incessant insults and manipulating. The world doesn’t revolve around you. People don’t care about you nearly as much as you-”
Ginny noticed his expression change, and he became the threatening Malfoy from the broom closet.
“-think they do. Some people work hard when faced with adversity and don’t have a silver spoon that-”
Snarling at her, he roughly pushed her up against a wall and the back of her head scraped against the stone.
“Don’t you dare talk of adversity with me. You know nothing of that.”
Ginny wanted to rub the back of her head to see if it was bleeding, but he had her arms pinned to her sides.
“M-Malfoy,” she whispered. “You’re really hurting me-”
His grip loosened on her, but not because of what she’d said. His eyes had sunken back into his head and he cried out in pain as he sunk to the ground. He was clutching his left forearm.
Ginny rubbed the back of her head and found that nothing was wrong. She stared in wide-eyed horror as Draco continued to cry out in pain. She looked around the hallway for anyone else, but there was no one there.
“Malfoy, what-” she tried, her heart beating even more rapidly with each cry he made.
His right hand was now white with pain as he continued to grip his forearm. His head was bowed and his white blonde hair concealed his face.
“Somebody…help!” Ginny cried out. But no one came.
What do I do? she thought frantically. What’s going on with him?
Just her luck there wasn’t a portrait of a witch or wizard nearby.
She dropped to her knees and tried to reach out towards him.
Malfoy was now writhing in pain. His face was contorted in an expression of horror.
The sight terrified her and she bit back a sob of desperation.
She took her shaking hands and placed them on his shoulders to hold him down. He gripped her wrists and continued to howl in pain. Ginny didn’t know what she was doing, but she immediately shoved the sleeve of his left arm up.
She gasped. An ugly tattoo of the Dark Mark was crawling on Malfoy’s skin.
She wanted to release him and run away, to get as far away from the Dark Mark as possible, but his grip on her wouldn’t relent.
“Malfoy!” she cried, shaking his grasp on her. “Malfoy, stop!” Her own voice sounded completely alien to her.
And suddenly, just like that, it was all over. His muscles visibly relaxed and his cries of anguish were barely audible whimpers. She tore her hands away from him and scooted up against the stone wall. Ginny nursed her wrists as she stared at the silent Malfoy. She couldn’t bring herself to look away from him. His breathing was still heavy, but she couldn’t tell if he was conscious.
Ginny began to shake uncontrollably. He has the Dark Mark! The fact that he was in so much pain meant that something was very wrong…
Malfoy let out a groan.
Ginny jumped slightly, pressing herself up against the wall even more.
He steadily tried to lift himself up and ended up propping himself halfway up on his elbows. His eyes were closed, his hair wild. His pallid face was even more white than usual. When his eyes opened he stared at her, but said nothing. His breathing was still heavy, and the sound of his rasping was the only thing Ginny could hear.
He looked down at his exposed arm and flinched. His eyes widened at the realization that Ginny now knew. His mouth dropped open slightly.
“I…nobody was supposed…bloody hell,” he stammered.
Ginny began to crawl further away from him. She prayed he’d just let her go without another word. She needed to get away from him.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said simply. The original color was starting to come back to his face, and the dark, ominous glow of his eyes had disappeared.
Ginny said nothing and continued to inch further away. Why can’t I get onto my feet? You need to run, Ginny!
“Wait, I need to explain-” Malfoy said, his voice sounding slightly alarmed.
Ginny suddenly gained the courage to get up to her feet. She broke into a run, but Malfoy did the same.
“Wait, if you’ll just listen! Weasley!” he cried out. She could hear the thud of his loafers right behind her. She dropped her schoolbag behind her and tried to run faster.
Run, Ginny, run!
Suddenly two arms encircled her and forced her to the ground.
Ginny fought him. “Stop, please, just leave me alone!” She was crying hysterically now as she kicked at him and dug her nails into his shoulder blade. She heard him curse in pain.
“I’m not going to hurt you!” he hissed, finally managing to pin her underneath him.
Ginny shook violently and the tears continued to flow down her face.
“Look at me!” he shook her slightly. “Don’t cry. Please.”
Something about the way his voice cracked slowed Ginny’s shaking. When she continued to sob he sighed. He kept his grip on her. “I had no choice, don’t you see? You talk about adversity as though you know it. You’ve never had to make the choices I’ve had to make.” He laughed slightly. She stared at him.
“Choices,” he repeated. “In fact, I haven’t made a single decision in my life. Everyone else makes them for me. You think I wanted this?”
Ginny said nothing, but she thought perhaps he was talking more to himself now.
“The burn of the Mark is the worst pain I’ve ever felt. But I had no choice. Wouldn’t you do the same if your family was threatened? That’s adversity, Weasley.”
Ginny had calmed down a little. She thought if she gave up resisting him, he might let down his guard just long enough for her to run away.
He turned his face away from her. She could see that his eyes were glistening. “My mother…”
Malfoy choked back a sob before continuing. “My mother looks so broken now that Father is gone. She says she has nothing left. But what about me?”
And sure enough, Malfoy’s hold on her slackened. She had all the opportunity to get up and run and he wouldn’t even have had time to react. But once again she couldn’t find it in her to leave him.
He suddenly jerked his face back towards her. His eyes widened in fear, as though he just realized she was there. “You’re going to tell the school, aren’t you?”
“Shh,” she soothed him. “I’m not.” Ginny couldn’t believe the words were coming out of her mouth. She was comforting Malfoy for being a Death Eater? What had happened to her?
“Do you realize what would happen if you did?” he asked, ignoring what she’d just said.
“I won’t tell, I swear,” she said quietly. She raised a hand to gently stroke the side of his face. It was an involuntary action and she frightened herself. Her heart was pounding furiously.
He winced slightly at the touch of her skin against his face. It seemed as though life was slowly returning to his eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut as her thumb traced his high cheekbone.
“Malfoy?” she asked quietly.
“What, Weasley?” he asked just as quietly.
“I’d say we’re even now.”
He mopped his brow with a handkerchief as he dragged his feet towards the dungeons. Crabbe and Goyle had asked if they could help him tonight, but he’d turned them away. It had to be nearly midnight by now. He had Transfiguration right after breakfast the next day.
Draco muttered his House password and slid through the entrance quietly. The common room was predictably empty. There was still a small fire going, indicating that there had been students present not too long before. He was about to retreat to his dormitory when he changed his mind.
Taking his schoolbag with him, Draco found a cozy armchair by the fire. He pulled out a book he’d taken from the library, The Muggle Races, by Anton Dragomir.
He flipped through the pages until he found the section he was looking for.
Anti-Semitism, or hostility towards Jews (see Chapter 8 for more information on this), has existed in Muggle history since the rise of Christianity (see Chapter 9 for more information on this) as the dominant belief system in Europe.
As German leader Adolf Hitler began to amass power in Germany, he feared the rise of the United States and aimed to unite Europe against this potential enemy. At the same time, he feared Russian Communism (see Chapter 11 for more information on this). Hitler used fear and propaganda to develop his ideas of blood purity and racial ideology.
Most German Muggles were quite unaware of the nature of Hitler’s grand plan, as the idea of a unified Europe enticed them. Nazism, the name given to Hitler’s policies during the time period, was very appealing to the ordinary German. Hitler began to strengthen his hold on the curriculum and teachers in school, which very subtly implemented Nazi ideas into the minds of young people-
A soft creak interrupted Draco’s reading. He jerked his head up to see Crabbe approaching him in his nightclothes.
Draco jumped in his chair a little. “Merlin, Crabbe! You could’ve said something.”
“Sorry. Wanted to see how the thing in the Room went.”
Draco eyed Crabbe suspiciously. Crabbe and Goyle knew that Draco was doing something important in the Room of Requirement, but they certainly didn’t know what. He’d been appreciative of their help in keeping watch outside of the Room during the day, but he didn’t trust the two of them to inform them what the plan was this early on.
“Not great, but I’ll just try again, as always,” Draco said, his voice ending in a whisper.
Crabbe shrugged. “You know, my father’s been telling me-“
“Crabbe, I’m trying to do some reading here, if you don’t mind,” Draco said coldly, returning his gaze back to his book.
He missed Crabbe’s furrowed brow and scowl as he clambered back up the stairs towards their dormitory.
He tried to read on, but his heavy eyelids were begging for sleep. Draco studied a picture of Nazi officers waving a red flag with a peculiar symbol on it before slamming the book shut and following after Crabbe, his head swimming with thoughts on Hitler and Germany.
Draco awoke the next morning feeling groggy. He’d had a series of dreams, one where Death Eaters flew into Hogwarts on brooms, each waving the same red flag Draco had seen a picture of. He shuddered.
“How’d your Transfiguration essay go, mate?” Blaise asked him, as he tied his shoelaces together.
Draco groaned as he raked a hand through his hair. “Curses, I forgot about the bloody thing.”
Blaise glanced at his watch. “You could always skip breakfast and work on it.”
Draco’s stomach took this opportunity to growl impolitely. “I don’t think that’s going to work out well. One missed essay can’t kill me.”
He and Blaise made their way to the Great Hall and found seats at the Slytherin table. Draco was halfway through buttering a croissant when he could feel a pair of eyes staring at him. He looked down his table and noticed a young blonde haired girl peering at him over a copy of The Daily Prophet. When she noticed him looking her way, he expected her to quickly avert her gaze in embarrassment. But the girl was bold enough to blink her long-lashed eyes and give him a ghost of a smile before turning to engage her friend in casual conversation.
“Daphne’s sister,” Blaise told him.
“What?” Draco scowled at him. He didn’t like Blaise observing him so carefully.
“The girl with the paper who’s been ogling you all breakfast. Her name’s Astoria.”
“Okay,” Draco said indifferently, continuing to butter his croissant.
“I’m taking Tracey to the Ball,” Blaise said.
“Good for you.”
“Well?”
Draco sighed. “Well what?”
“What about you?”
“That’s the last thing on my mind right now.”
“Make amends with Pansy and take her.”
Draco laughed humorlessly. “You’ve got to be joking.”
“What about your lovely new friend, Girl Weasley?” Blaise smirked at him.
“I’d very much like to keep my breakfast this morning, Blaise.”
Blaise laughed and this time Draco joined him genuinely.
”Will you help us put together an after party in Slytherin?” Blaise had a look of mischief dancing in his eyes.
Draco smirked. “Sure.” He had so much going on in his life right now; he was thirsting after outlets to behave like a real teenager.
When Draco arrived at Transfiguration, he found that McGonagall wasn’t going to let him go with a missed assignment. She was not only going to make him write an essay twice as long as the other students, he was to do this while serving a detention during the upcoming trip to Hogsmeade.
This was upsetting to Draco, not because of the detention itself, but because he was to go forth with the Dark Lord’s plan that day. He’d been sweating bullets over the package from Borgin and Burke’s for so long now. He needed to get rid of it.
He left his Transfiguration class with the pretense of fuming, when he was actually shaking in the knees. None of his Slytherin classmates dared to follow after him. Sure, he was angry with McGonagall for punishing him so severely, but he was afraid. What if it doesn’t work? How will I do it then?
Draco loosened his tie so he could breathe. He was suddenly feeling very warm.
I need to think.
There were Hogwarts students swarming the hallways. It made him feel claustrophobic. Their shining, smiling faces made him sick. The resonating sound of laughter made his head spin. In his misery, he docked twenty points from a third year Hufflepuff student just for being in his way.
They’re everywhere. Where do I go?
And Draco headed towards the only place he could think of to find refuge - Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.
__________________
Ginny was trying hard to concentrate on the pages in front of her as she sat in the school library. She’d try to convince her Muggle Studies group to work on presenting another weapon, but Malfoy hadn’t let up on the atomic bomb.
She hadn’t wanted to mention anything to her group mates, seeing as she barely knew most of them, but there had been a reason for her reservations on the subject.
Ginny’s great-uncle, Ignatius Prewett, had died during a German bombing raid in Britain during the Second Great Muggle War. Her father had explained the nature of Muggle warfare to her and it always moved her to tears to hear how horrid people could be to each other in order to justify their leaders’ gains.
Her mother had been just a little girl when Ignatius had died, but she had named her third son in his memory. When the first war against You-Know-Who had come about, the Death Eaters expected Ginny’s parents to join, given their blood purity and the fact that Molly had lost a relative to Muggle atrocities. The two Weasleys had sent them packing.
Ginny slammed the book she was reading shut. She stretched her feet out and drummed her fingers along the tabletop.
She noticed Draco Malfoy enter the library. He glanced around shiftily before making his way towards a bookshelf. He disappeared. She gazed intently towards the direction he’d walked and waited for him to retreat. After a few moments he emerged, clutching two books. His tie was undone, hanging loose around his neck. He walked by her table without even glancing at her.
Well that’s just fine, she thought.
It was getting late so Ginny decided she should probably leave. She rose to her feet, slung her schoolbag over her shoulder and left. Unfortunately for her, she ended up in step with Malfoy as she made her way down the hallway out of the library.
She kept her gaze straight ahead and made no indication of acknowledging him. She noticed that he had begun to slow down his pace so as to avoid walking alongside her. Ginny smirked at the absurdity of it all. She dared to casually glance over her shoulder as though she was checking out the sculptures and suits of armor standing along the wall.
He was staring at the stone floor but briefly lift his gaze to meet her eyes. Malfoy scowled.
Their silent interaction was interrupted when Ginny missed the foot of a suit of armor and tripped head first. She landed roughly on the palms of her hands.
Malfoy snorted unkindly. Her hands were really smarting, but she prayed he’d continue walking and leave her be.
When a pair of shiny black Tergus loafers met her watering eyes, Ginny cursed to herself. She attempted to lift herself off the ground but he was kneeling in front of her and offered a hand.
Ginny refused to take it and stood. She stood face-to-face with Malfoy. His expression was unreadable, but it certainly wasn’t cruel. His blond tresses were dangling over his eyes. His gaze was steady and piercing. For a brief moment she felt like tugging at the loose ends of his tie and pulling him closer towards her. Her face flushed.
A little bit of bile rise up in her throat as she realized what she was thinking. She swiped away at the tears on her face with a robed arm. She stared at him as he lifted her schoolbag off the ground and handed it back to her silently. Ginny was expecting a nasty remark, but none came.
She mumbled a barely coherent ‘thank you’ and continued her way towards the Gryffindor tower.
“Malfoy, two, Weasley, zero,” a voice called out after her.
Ginny turned around to face him, puzzled.
“I’ve offered to help you twice now,” he said. “You owe me.”
“I owe you nothing.” She sneered at him.
He smirked at her, the glow of the moon illuminating his face. “I’ll call for the favor at some point.”
“Nobody asked you to help me,” she said, glaring at him.
“Ah, but a gentleman always helps a woman, whether she’s a lady or not.”
And there was the real Malfoy.
“And a true gentleman never asks for anything in return,” she bit back. She was about to leave again, but stopped in her tracks. “What’s your problem, anyway, Malfoy?”
He stepped towards her, his expression still blank. “Whatever do you mean?”
She inched backward. “I’m sick of your incessant insults and manipulating. The world doesn’t revolve around you. People don’t care about you nearly as much as you-”
Ginny noticed his expression change, and he became the threatening Malfoy from the broom closet.
“-think they do. Some people work hard when faced with adversity and don’t have a silver spoon that-”
Snarling at her, he roughly pushed her up against a wall and the back of her head scraped against the stone.
“Don’t you dare talk of adversity with me. You know nothing of that.”
Ginny wanted to rub the back of her head to see if it was bleeding, but he had her arms pinned to her sides.
“M-Malfoy,” she whispered. “You’re really hurting me-”
His grip loosened on her, but not because of what she’d said. His eyes had sunken back into his head and he cried out in pain as he sunk to the ground. He was clutching his left forearm.
Ginny rubbed the back of her head and found that nothing was wrong. She stared in wide-eyed horror as Draco continued to cry out in pain. She looked around the hallway for anyone else, but there was no one there.
“Malfoy, what-” she tried, her heart beating even more rapidly with each cry he made.
His right hand was now white with pain as he continued to grip his forearm. His head was bowed and his white blonde hair concealed his face.
“Somebody…help!” Ginny cried out. But no one came.
What do I do? she thought frantically. What’s going on with him?
Just her luck there wasn’t a portrait of a witch or wizard nearby.
She dropped to her knees and tried to reach out towards him.
Malfoy was now writhing in pain. His face was contorted in an expression of horror.
The sight terrified her and she bit back a sob of desperation.
She took her shaking hands and placed them on his shoulders to hold him down. He gripped her wrists and continued to howl in pain. Ginny didn’t know what she was doing, but she immediately shoved the sleeve of his left arm up.
She gasped. An ugly tattoo of the Dark Mark was crawling on Malfoy’s skin.
She wanted to release him and run away, to get as far away from the Dark Mark as possible, but his grip on her wouldn’t relent.
“Malfoy!” she cried, shaking his grasp on her. “Malfoy, stop!” Her own voice sounded completely alien to her.
And suddenly, just like that, it was all over. His muscles visibly relaxed and his cries of anguish were barely audible whimpers. She tore her hands away from him and scooted up against the stone wall. Ginny nursed her wrists as she stared at the silent Malfoy. She couldn’t bring herself to look away from him. His breathing was still heavy, but she couldn’t tell if he was conscious.
Ginny began to shake uncontrollably. He has the Dark Mark! The fact that he was in so much pain meant that something was very wrong…
Malfoy let out a groan.
Ginny jumped slightly, pressing herself up against the wall even more.
He steadily tried to lift himself up and ended up propping himself halfway up on his elbows. His eyes were closed, his hair wild. His pallid face was even more white than usual. When his eyes opened he stared at her, but said nothing. His breathing was still heavy, and the sound of his rasping was the only thing Ginny could hear.
He looked down at his exposed arm and flinched. His eyes widened at the realization that Ginny now knew. His mouth dropped open slightly.
“I…nobody was supposed…bloody hell,” he stammered.
Ginny began to crawl further away from him. She prayed he’d just let her go without another word. She needed to get away from him.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said simply. The original color was starting to come back to his face, and the dark, ominous glow of his eyes had disappeared.
Ginny said nothing and continued to inch further away. Why can’t I get onto my feet? You need to run, Ginny!
“Wait, I need to explain-” Malfoy said, his voice sounding slightly alarmed.
Ginny suddenly gained the courage to get up to her feet. She broke into a run, but Malfoy did the same.
“Wait, if you’ll just listen! Weasley!” he cried out. She could hear the thud of his loafers right behind her. She dropped her schoolbag behind her and tried to run faster.
Run, Ginny, run!
Suddenly two arms encircled her and forced her to the ground.
Ginny fought him. “Stop, please, just leave me alone!” She was crying hysterically now as she kicked at him and dug her nails into his shoulder blade. She heard him curse in pain.
“I’m not going to hurt you!” he hissed, finally managing to pin her underneath him.
Ginny shook violently and the tears continued to flow down her face.
“Look at me!” he shook her slightly. “Don’t cry. Please.”
Something about the way his voice cracked slowed Ginny’s shaking. When she continued to sob he sighed. He kept his grip on her. “I had no choice, don’t you see? You talk about adversity as though you know it. You’ve never had to make the choices I’ve had to make.” He laughed slightly. She stared at him.
“Choices,” he repeated. “In fact, I haven’t made a single decision in my life. Everyone else makes them for me. You think I wanted this?”
Ginny said nothing, but she thought perhaps he was talking more to himself now.
“The burn of the Mark is the worst pain I’ve ever felt. But I had no choice. Wouldn’t you do the same if your family was threatened? That’s adversity, Weasley.”
Ginny had calmed down a little. She thought if she gave up resisting him, he might let down his guard just long enough for her to run away.
He turned his face away from her. She could see that his eyes were glistening. “My mother…”
Malfoy choked back a sob before continuing. “My mother looks so broken now that Father is gone. She says she has nothing left. But what about me?”
And sure enough, Malfoy’s hold on her slackened. She had all the opportunity to get up and run and he wouldn’t even have had time to react. But once again she couldn’t find it in her to leave him.
He suddenly jerked his face back towards her. His eyes widened in fear, as though he just realized she was there. “You’re going to tell the school, aren’t you?”
“Shh,” she soothed him. “I’m not.” Ginny couldn’t believe the words were coming out of her mouth. She was comforting Malfoy for being a Death Eater? What had happened to her?
“Do you realize what would happen if you did?” he asked, ignoring what she’d just said.
“I won’t tell, I swear,” she said quietly. She raised a hand to gently stroke the side of his face. It was an involuntary action and she frightened herself. Her heart was pounding furiously.
He winced slightly at the touch of her skin against his face. It seemed as though life was slowly returning to his eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut as her thumb traced his high cheekbone.
“Malfoy?” she asked quietly.
“What, Weasley?” he asked just as quietly.
“I’d say we’re even now.”
Author notes: Tergus means "leather" in Latin. I've made it a fictional high class name brand of shoes in the Wizarding world.
Leave a Review