Draco woke on Monday morning with a groan. It had little to do with the fact that he’d slept in, and more to do with his weekend occurrences. He’d spent the entire Sunday holed up in the Slytherin dungeons under the pretense of studying for their midterm examinations. Of course, that’s what he really should’ve been doing any way.
Unfortunately, his mind kept wandering back to the red-haired girl who’d kissed him goodnight on Saturday.
As he sat in the Common Room that Sunday, which was so spotless, one would never have guessed a party had occurred the night before, he found that his feet would not remain still. He would pace the room, much to the annoyance of other students attempting to study in there, head towards the exit, and then pull himself back to his secluded table and chair to “read”. He wanted to see her. But how? It wasn’t as though he could hold a Gryffindor at wandpoint and force his way into their disgusting tower to find her…but perhaps that wasn’t such a bad idea…
You should be studying!
I know…but I’m the brightest wizard in school…some down time can’t hurt me, can it?
This was ridiculous. What were the two of them, anyhow? Were they dating? That sounded silly. Of course they weren’t “dating”; he couldn’t even be seen speaking to her in public, let alone making googly eyes with her at Madam Pudifoot’s Tearoom. He shuddered at the thought.
Well, they weren’t just friends either. First of all, Draco didn’t have friends. He had acquaintances, cohorts, and minions, he thought smugly, but not friends. Well, perhaps Blaise constituted as a partial friend, but that was just barely. Secondly, she wasn’t a friend if he wanted to touch her in ways that would push his mother into a premature grave.
So by nightfall on Sunday, Draco hadn’t accomplished little much of anything.
He lay awake in his bed that night, continuing his mental struggle. I wonder what she’s doing right now…and with a last lingering image of the red-haired temptress, he dozed off into a dreamless sleep.
But sleep hadn’t resolved anything. He was still left with a sense of anxiety.
What were you thinking! You can’t be involved with somebody right now! Especially someone like her.
He knew his conscience was right. What would Ginny say if she knew what he had to do?
This can never go anywhere…so why bother?
Because I need something to hold me together right now. And she does that.
He felt the makings of a smile creeping along his face and he jumped out of bed with a little more bounce than was necessary.
He dressed quickly and headed towards the Great Hall for breakfast. Now don’t be obvious; don’t stare at the Gryffindor table right away. You don’t want people to notice, nor do you want her to think you’re eager.
Draco forced himself to become preoccupied with his fingernails as he slid into his usual seat at the Slytherin table. He was about to sneak a glance at her table when Blaise Zabini plopped down in front of him, obstructing his view.
“What a weekend, yeah?” he said.
Draco sighed inwardly. “I guess.”
“We did a good job with the party. The Ravenclaws that were in attendance are still talking about it.”
Draco began to eat from his porridge. “There were Ravenclaws there?” he asked absently.
“Well surely you didn’t think all those people were from Slytherin? We had a huge turnout. In fact, I think I saw a Gryffindor or two.”
Draco knew Blaise well enough to know what he was trying to do. He had to handle his response carefully, so he did what Draco Malfoy would ordinarily do whenever anything about Gryffindors was brought up in conversation. He sneered. “That’s disgusting.”
Blaise held his gaze for a moment before nodding slowly in agreement. “How are things with you and Astoria?”
“Nonexistent.”
“That’s a shame. And she’s quite the looker.”
Draco shrugged.
“So the whole school has been whispering about the brawl the three ladies had over you.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t over me, you dolt. And it was hardly a brawl.”
“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” He smirked.
“Pansy lashed out at my date, some choice words were exchanged, and a Gryffindor girl was inadvertently dragged into the tussle.”
“A Gryffindor girl, or the Gryffindor girl?”
Draco scowled. “What are you on about, Zabini? You’ve been awfully out of sorts since you sat down here.”
“Come now, Draco,” Blaise said, lowering his voice so that none of the other housemates could hear them. “The Gryffindor girl happens to wind up at our party seeking you out. And whether you mean to or not, I can tell you’re trying your hardest to look past my head in the very direction she’s sitting.”
“Bollocks,” Draco said nonchalantly. “I haven’t the faintest idea of whom you’re speaking of. I think you’re merely bored and you’re trying to create a story that doesn’t exist.”
Blaise shrugged.
Draco wanted to hit him. How dare he! Who was Blaise Zabini anyway? What gave him the right to make all these observations and assumptions?
“If you bring up anything more about that tawdry, sorry excuse for a house, I will ruin you, mark my words,” Draco said quietly, glaring daggers at him.
Blaise didn’t even blink. He coolly stabbed a piece of bacon with a fork and resumed eating. “Just having some fun, mate.”
When Draco left the Great Hall he headed towards the Room of Requirement. Taking care to make sure no one was following him, he swiftly entered the secret room. Seeing the Vanishing Cabinet always gave Draco a mixed sense of excitement and apprehension. He knew every spell he cast to repair the damnable artifact was a step closer to completing his task. But then what? He knew very well what the purpose of the cabinet was. What would happen to the school? To him? To the even bigger mission planned for him? It was all fine and dandy to be working alone in a cluttered room on a project he didn’t see to be resolved anytime soon. But when soon did arrive, he would have to come to terms with all his initial worries.
After prodding with the cabinet for an hour, Draco gave up. He sat on a dusty pile of books, staring around the room absently. The bust of a statue lay next to him. He wouldn’t have noticed it were it not for the cobweb laden tiara atop its crown. What a peculiar headpiece, he thought. The jewels on the headpiece cast an odd assortment of lights that refracted across the room. The cabinet itself was doused in an eerie red glow as it sat in frustrating silence, unwilling to unleash the magic it was meant to contain.
He rolled up his left sleeve and stared at the ugly tattoo on his white skin. He traced a finger along the skull and serpent and shuddered. Such a hideous brand, he thought. I’m hideous.
“The time has come for you to become one of us, Draco,” the Dark Lord said, hissing. They were standing in the old Muggle house once again. Draco suddenly noticed something lurking in the shadows. He jumped.
“Do not be alarmed. That is Nagini.”
A large snake emerged and wrapped its revolting self around the Dark Lord’s shoulders.
The Dark Lord laughed at Draco’s discomfort. “I am from the Slytherin house. What other creature would I keep in my company?”
Draco wasn’t meant to answer, so he didn’t.
“Are you ready?”
Draco shook slightly and nodded.
“Answer me.”
“Yes, my Lord.” He bowed his head, still shaking. Why are you so nervous? This is everything your family has hoped for; you should be reveling in this glorious moment! He tried to comfort himself.
He wished his father was there. He needed him to stand there with him.
The Dark Lord now stood a few mere inches away from him now. Draco could see his white face and flinched. A shadow crossed the Dark Lord’s face and his red eyes burned into Draco’s. He could feel his left sleeve being forced back and the prick of a wand pushing into his forearm. Draco’s heart beat wildly. This is it.
He could hear the Dark Lord murmuring something and then pain overtook him. He screamed and then all went black.
Draco’s whole body felt tired all of a sudden. He needed a break.
He wasn’t sure where he was heading, and yet, he knew exactly where he wanted to be. The Qudditch pitch was covered in a blanket of snow. He must be mad to be out here in the dead of winter. His green scarf was wrapped tightly around his neck and his ears burned slightly.
He could make out small footprints in the snow, which remained undisturbed otherwise. Sure enough, a figure could be seen running the perimeter of the field. He waited for her to complete her lap and approach him.
Ginny wore a bulky maroon and gold sweatshirt and sweatpants. A pair of earmuffs framed her flushed face and gloved hands rubbed her cheeks vigorously.
“What a rush!” she exclaimed, rocking back and forth on her feet.
“Are you mad?” he asked, stunned that anyone would want to run around in the snow.
“I feel so…alive,” she said, gasping from the biting cold air. She twirled around with her arms outstretched. “You should try it sometime, Draco.”
“No thank you,” he mumbled.
“Why did you come out here?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
He shrugged. He’d hoped she wouldn’t ask him because he didn’t really have an answer.
“It is a bit cold though, isn’t it? It wasn’t a big deal while I was actually run-”
He cupped her face with his own gloved hands and kissed her gently. Her lips were cold and her breath icy as it tickled him. She covered his hands with her own, as though to encourage him.
When they broke away, she merely looked at him with a small smile on her face. She looked beautiful. The white snow was a stark contrast to her brilliant red hair, which was tied into a ponytail behind her head. She was cold, and yet radiated warmth. She wrapped her arms around his neck and jumped, yes, jumped, on him, throwing her legs around his waist until he was forced to fall backwards into the snow, taking her down with him.
He wanted to get angry, protest, and yell, but instead, he allowed her to kiss him back as she pushed him further into the snow. He was wet and cold, but he didn’t care. He rolled her over as she laughed and the sound echoed across the empty Quidditch field. Her wild red hair had blown loose from its ponytail and whipped about her face in the winter breeze. The corner of his lips twitched.
“Draco Malfoy,” she said pleasantly, brushing snow out of his hair. “Is that a smile?”
“Perhaps.”
She kissed him again. She was soft and sweet and he felt lightheaded.
They lay in the snow for a few moments, side by side, staring at the sky above them.
“I wanted to you to kiss me when you were healing my ankle the last time we were out here,” Ginny said.
“I know I’m quite the impressive figure in my Quidditch robes.”
“It just wasn’t that,” she said, without laughing. “You were so human then. You could’ve left me, but you didn’t.”
She rolled onto her side so that she was facing her. Her eyes danced mischievously.
“But yes, your robes had something to do with it as well.”
He grinned to himself. He wasn’t ready to admit to Ginny that he’d felt the urge to kiss her that day as well.
“What are we doing here, like this?” he asked, and his smile began to fade.
“Having fun, I think,” she said.
“It’s all so wrong.”
“Maybe.”
He turned to face her with an eyebrow quirked. “What do you mean, ‘maybe’? Of course this is wrong. The both of us would be in more trouble than either of us could imagine if the wrong people found out.”
She remained unfazed. “It doesn’t feel wrong though, you know?”
He was quiet.
“I mean, I’m laying out here in the snow with you, and all I can think about is this moment. This moment doesn’t have to do with Harry, Ron, my family, or even Dumbledore.”
“What would happen if others found out?”
It was her turn to be quiet. The breeze was beginning to pick up and the wind whistled around them.
“I don’t know,” she said finally. “But what we’re doing is unpredictable and without a clear road. I don’t have any answers for you and I don’t expect you to have any either.”
There was quiet once more. The wind was getting stronger.
“If y-you want out of…this, then I’ll u-understand,” she said, chattering against the cold.
He pulled her over him and felt her red waves surround his every being. Her cheeks were reddening, from the cold or his touch, he didn’t know. She looked at him, hopeful and content. He felt very warm. “No, I want this…whatever it is.” And he kissed her.
Unfortunately, his mind kept wandering back to the red-haired girl who’d kissed him goodnight on Saturday.
As he sat in the Common Room that Sunday, which was so spotless, one would never have guessed a party had occurred the night before, he found that his feet would not remain still. He would pace the room, much to the annoyance of other students attempting to study in there, head towards the exit, and then pull himself back to his secluded table and chair to “read”. He wanted to see her. But how? It wasn’t as though he could hold a Gryffindor at wandpoint and force his way into their disgusting tower to find her…but perhaps that wasn’t such a bad idea…
You should be studying!
I know…but I’m the brightest wizard in school…some down time can’t hurt me, can it?
This was ridiculous. What were the two of them, anyhow? Were they dating? That sounded silly. Of course they weren’t “dating”; he couldn’t even be seen speaking to her in public, let alone making googly eyes with her at Madam Pudifoot’s Tearoom. He shuddered at the thought.
Well, they weren’t just friends either. First of all, Draco didn’t have friends. He had acquaintances, cohorts, and minions, he thought smugly, but not friends. Well, perhaps Blaise constituted as a partial friend, but that was just barely. Secondly, she wasn’t a friend if he wanted to touch her in ways that would push his mother into a premature grave.
So by nightfall on Sunday, Draco hadn’t accomplished little much of anything.
He lay awake in his bed that night, continuing his mental struggle. I wonder what she’s doing right now…and with a last lingering image of the red-haired temptress, he dozed off into a dreamless sleep.
But sleep hadn’t resolved anything. He was still left with a sense of anxiety.
What were you thinking! You can’t be involved with somebody right now! Especially someone like her.
He knew his conscience was right. What would Ginny say if she knew what he had to do?
This can never go anywhere…so why bother?
Because I need something to hold me together right now. And she does that.
He felt the makings of a smile creeping along his face and he jumped out of bed with a little more bounce than was necessary.
He dressed quickly and headed towards the Great Hall for breakfast. Now don’t be obvious; don’t stare at the Gryffindor table right away. You don’t want people to notice, nor do you want her to think you’re eager.
Draco forced himself to become preoccupied with his fingernails as he slid into his usual seat at the Slytherin table. He was about to sneak a glance at her table when Blaise Zabini plopped down in front of him, obstructing his view.
“What a weekend, yeah?” he said.
Draco sighed inwardly. “I guess.”
“We did a good job with the party. The Ravenclaws that were in attendance are still talking about it.”
Draco began to eat from his porridge. “There were Ravenclaws there?” he asked absently.
“Well surely you didn’t think all those people were from Slytherin? We had a huge turnout. In fact, I think I saw a Gryffindor or two.”
Draco knew Blaise well enough to know what he was trying to do. He had to handle his response carefully, so he did what Draco Malfoy would ordinarily do whenever anything about Gryffindors was brought up in conversation. He sneered. “That’s disgusting.”
Blaise held his gaze for a moment before nodding slowly in agreement. “How are things with you and Astoria?”
“Nonexistent.”
“That’s a shame. And she’s quite the looker.”
Draco shrugged.
“So the whole school has been whispering about the brawl the three ladies had over you.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t over me, you dolt. And it was hardly a brawl.”
“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” He smirked.
“Pansy lashed out at my date, some choice words were exchanged, and a Gryffindor girl was inadvertently dragged into the tussle.”
“A Gryffindor girl, or the Gryffindor girl?”
Draco scowled. “What are you on about, Zabini? You’ve been awfully out of sorts since you sat down here.”
“Come now, Draco,” Blaise said, lowering his voice so that none of the other housemates could hear them. “The Gryffindor girl happens to wind up at our party seeking you out. And whether you mean to or not, I can tell you’re trying your hardest to look past my head in the very direction she’s sitting.”
“Bollocks,” Draco said nonchalantly. “I haven’t the faintest idea of whom you’re speaking of. I think you’re merely bored and you’re trying to create a story that doesn’t exist.”
Blaise shrugged.
Draco wanted to hit him. How dare he! Who was Blaise Zabini anyway? What gave him the right to make all these observations and assumptions?
“If you bring up anything more about that tawdry, sorry excuse for a house, I will ruin you, mark my words,” Draco said quietly, glaring daggers at him.
Blaise didn’t even blink. He coolly stabbed a piece of bacon with a fork and resumed eating. “Just having some fun, mate.”
When Draco left the Great Hall he headed towards the Room of Requirement. Taking care to make sure no one was following him, he swiftly entered the secret room. Seeing the Vanishing Cabinet always gave Draco a mixed sense of excitement and apprehension. He knew every spell he cast to repair the damnable artifact was a step closer to completing his task. But then what? He knew very well what the purpose of the cabinet was. What would happen to the school? To him? To the even bigger mission planned for him? It was all fine and dandy to be working alone in a cluttered room on a project he didn’t see to be resolved anytime soon. But when soon did arrive, he would have to come to terms with all his initial worries.
After prodding with the cabinet for an hour, Draco gave up. He sat on a dusty pile of books, staring around the room absently. The bust of a statue lay next to him. He wouldn’t have noticed it were it not for the cobweb laden tiara atop its crown. What a peculiar headpiece, he thought. The jewels on the headpiece cast an odd assortment of lights that refracted across the room. The cabinet itself was doused in an eerie red glow as it sat in frustrating silence, unwilling to unleash the magic it was meant to contain.
He rolled up his left sleeve and stared at the ugly tattoo on his white skin. He traced a finger along the skull and serpent and shuddered. Such a hideous brand, he thought. I’m hideous.
“The time has come for you to become one of us, Draco,” the Dark Lord said, hissing. They were standing in the old Muggle house once again. Draco suddenly noticed something lurking in the shadows. He jumped.
“Do not be alarmed. That is Nagini.”
A large snake emerged and wrapped its revolting self around the Dark Lord’s shoulders.
The Dark Lord laughed at Draco’s discomfort. “I am from the Slytherin house. What other creature would I keep in my company?”
Draco wasn’t meant to answer, so he didn’t.
“Are you ready?”
Draco shook slightly and nodded.
“Answer me.”
“Yes, my Lord.” He bowed his head, still shaking. Why are you so nervous? This is everything your family has hoped for; you should be reveling in this glorious moment! He tried to comfort himself.
He wished his father was there. He needed him to stand there with him.
The Dark Lord now stood a few mere inches away from him now. Draco could see his white face and flinched. A shadow crossed the Dark Lord’s face and his red eyes burned into Draco’s. He could feel his left sleeve being forced back and the prick of a wand pushing into his forearm. Draco’s heart beat wildly. This is it.
He could hear the Dark Lord murmuring something and then pain overtook him. He screamed and then all went black.
Draco’s whole body felt tired all of a sudden. He needed a break.
He wasn’t sure where he was heading, and yet, he knew exactly where he wanted to be. The Qudditch pitch was covered in a blanket of snow. He must be mad to be out here in the dead of winter. His green scarf was wrapped tightly around his neck and his ears burned slightly.
He could make out small footprints in the snow, which remained undisturbed otherwise. Sure enough, a figure could be seen running the perimeter of the field. He waited for her to complete her lap and approach him.
Ginny wore a bulky maroon and gold sweatshirt and sweatpants. A pair of earmuffs framed her flushed face and gloved hands rubbed her cheeks vigorously.
“What a rush!” she exclaimed, rocking back and forth on her feet.
“Are you mad?” he asked, stunned that anyone would want to run around in the snow.
“I feel so…alive,” she said, gasping from the biting cold air. She twirled around with her arms outstretched. “You should try it sometime, Draco.”
“No thank you,” he mumbled.
“Why did you come out here?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
He shrugged. He’d hoped she wouldn’t ask him because he didn’t really have an answer.
“It is a bit cold though, isn’t it? It wasn’t a big deal while I was actually run-”
He cupped her face with his own gloved hands and kissed her gently. Her lips were cold and her breath icy as it tickled him. She covered his hands with her own, as though to encourage him.
When they broke away, she merely looked at him with a small smile on her face. She looked beautiful. The white snow was a stark contrast to her brilliant red hair, which was tied into a ponytail behind her head. She was cold, and yet radiated warmth. She wrapped her arms around his neck and jumped, yes, jumped, on him, throwing her legs around his waist until he was forced to fall backwards into the snow, taking her down with him.
He wanted to get angry, protest, and yell, but instead, he allowed her to kiss him back as she pushed him further into the snow. He was wet and cold, but he didn’t care. He rolled her over as she laughed and the sound echoed across the empty Quidditch field. Her wild red hair had blown loose from its ponytail and whipped about her face in the winter breeze. The corner of his lips twitched.
“Draco Malfoy,” she said pleasantly, brushing snow out of his hair. “Is that a smile?”
“Perhaps.”
She kissed him again. She was soft and sweet and he felt lightheaded.
They lay in the snow for a few moments, side by side, staring at the sky above them.
“I wanted to you to kiss me when you were healing my ankle the last time we were out here,” Ginny said.
“I know I’m quite the impressive figure in my Quidditch robes.”
“It just wasn’t that,” she said, without laughing. “You were so human then. You could’ve left me, but you didn’t.”
She rolled onto her side so that she was facing her. Her eyes danced mischievously.
“But yes, your robes had something to do with it as well.”
He grinned to himself. He wasn’t ready to admit to Ginny that he’d felt the urge to kiss her that day as well.
“What are we doing here, like this?” he asked, and his smile began to fade.
“Having fun, I think,” she said.
“It’s all so wrong.”
“Maybe.”
He turned to face her with an eyebrow quirked. “What do you mean, ‘maybe’? Of course this is wrong. The both of us would be in more trouble than either of us could imagine if the wrong people found out.”
She remained unfazed. “It doesn’t feel wrong though, you know?”
He was quiet.
“I mean, I’m laying out here in the snow with you, and all I can think about is this moment. This moment doesn’t have to do with Harry, Ron, my family, or even Dumbledore.”
“What would happen if others found out?”
It was her turn to be quiet. The breeze was beginning to pick up and the wind whistled around them.
“I don’t know,” she said finally. “But what we’re doing is unpredictable and without a clear road. I don’t have any answers for you and I don’t expect you to have any either.”
There was quiet once more. The wind was getting stronger.
“If y-you want out of…this, then I’ll u-understand,” she said, chattering against the cold.
He pulled her over him and felt her red waves surround his every being. Her cheeks were reddening, from the cold or his touch, he didn’t know. She looked at him, hopeful and content. He felt very warm. “No, I want this…whatever it is.” And he kissed her.
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