That morning, or maybe it was ages and ages later, Ginny wasn't sure, she awoke feeling different. She sat up slowly, momentarily unsure of what had changed. But as she stood to her feet, she realized she wasn't in the cottage anymore. The room she was in was very white, but there was a doorway at the opposite end, and she knew without a doubt that once she walked though it, she would find colors beyond anything she could imagine and all the warmth that came with eternal summer. Even as she stared at it, she was almost certain she could smell the salty air that only meant one thing – the ocean. But before she would walk through that doorway, she was going to wait for Draco.
For a moment, she wondered if she was dreaming again but it occurred to her that she was not, although she had no idea why she was so certain of that fact.
She could see Draco, still asleep in his cot, one arm curled around her body, and her stomach lurched for him. Soon enough he would wake and find that she had left him. She wondered how long she would have to wait. An hour? Or would it be a hundred years until he came to join her? Maybe he would get out of the cottage alive and move on with his life, leaving her just a distant, painful memory. She bit her lower lip and decided to wait.
Ginny sat down on the white floor, tucking the folds of her billowy pink dress around her. Pink, she thought, slightly annoyed. I look terrible in pink. But even as she tried to straighten the dress around her, she realized that her legs weren't as skinny as they had been when she'd gone to bed that evening. She let her hand fall across her chest, as it occurred to her that it was back – she had boobs again. Extending her limbs in front of her, she knew somehow that she was beautiful, more beautiful than she'd ever been on earth.
Leaning forward, she looked at her former self, the Ginny Weasley who looked like she was sleeping in a miserable cot in a miserable cottage. Her cheeks were sunken in so far she was surprised she didn't see the outline of her teeth. The dark circles beneath her eyes looked like stains. And the scars... Merlin, the scars on her back were revolting. Draco lied when he told her he thought she was beautiful. Anyone with eyes could see how disfigured and grotesque she was. Instead of the smooth freckled skin she was used to seeing on her body, her flesh was a lumpy, puckered mess of shiny pink scars. She had to look away.
Ginny waited. She watched Draco, unable to do anything else, until he woke up. She was glad, at least, to see him sleeping. She knew that sometimes he didn't sleep; he stayed awake and watched her, waiting.
His eyes slowly opened, and stared at Ginny's not-sleeping form momentarily before leaning over to kiss her. That was when he realized, she could tell. He pressed one hand against her forehead, held his fingers under her nose to check for breath and then placed a hand on her chest. When he was satisfied that she was truly dead, he sat up and looked around.
It pained Ginny to see the blank, hurt look on his face, but from where she sat, there was nothing she could do.
So she waited.
Draco lay back down, holding her for a long time, and she was surprised to see him cry. She hadn't known that he was capable of so many tears. Finally, much to her relief, he pushed himself from the cot and crossed the small room. Draco reached into a cabinet they didn't use and his hand closed on something in there.
He made his way back to the cot and curled his body around hers, even though she knew that her own body must not have been warm and comforting anymore.
As Ginny watched, Draco tucked himself into her before lifting his hand to his mouth.
She knew it was the Venohex leaves.
“They are fast, aren't they?”
Ginny turned her head slightly to see Draco sitting next to her. She reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his. “You look wonderful.”
His eyes traveled her body. “So do you. I would have never guessed that pink could look so amazing on you.”
Like her, his body had filled out again. They were both perfect and healthy. There was no evidence on them of the months in captivity; it was suddenly easy to believe that the war, the cottage and the murders had all been a nightmare. She looked gorgeous, she knew it, and so did he. He looked like he had before, like when they had been in school together, but better. She liked the simple black slacks he wore and the dark green button up; it suited him well. “Look. Your hands are fixed again,” she told him.
He nodded, uninterested in himself as he didn't take his eyes off her.
“Look.” She reached into the pocket of her dress, suddenly knowing what would be there. She pulled out the thin stack of paper hearts he had made her.
Draco glanced over at the spot in the cottage where she kept them above her bed. The hearts were gone.
“They came with me.” She met his eyes. “Last night you told me I was beautiful.”
“You are. You were.” His mouth was full and pink again, and tempting her to kiss him.
“I look so destroyed,” she said, pointing down at herself. “Couldn't you see me?”
He placed his hand under her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Yes. I could see you.”
“Why did you lie to me?”
“I didn't lie,” he told her stubbornly. “I never lie.”
“I wasn't beautiful,” she protested.
“You were alive and you were with me. Therefore, you were beautiful.”
Ginny considered his words for a moment before deciding to accept them. She had no idea what was about to happen to them, but it occurred to her that whatever it was, she was going to be with him for a very long time.
“What's through the door?” he asked, motioning to the opening behind them.
“I don't know,” she told him. “I wanted to wait for you before I looked. I think once we go through we can't come back.”
“It seems warm there,” he said, craning his neck to see though the doorway. “Like summer.”
Ginny nodded. “That's what I thought.”
Draco stood to his feet, casting one final glance at their bodies, tangled together on the beds. “I don't ever want to see that again.”
“Me neither.” She turned away from the scene in the cottage. “I don't think we will.”
“Why did you wait for me?”
“I didn't want to go through there alone,” she told him simply.
He cocked his pale blond head and studied her. “I was awful to you for most the time I knew you. I don't think I could have forgiven me as easily as you did.”
“You were mean,” she agreed. “I wished you had never been brought to the cottage. In the beginning I hoped someone would take you away. But no one ever did.”
“No one ever taught me how to be any different,” he shrugged, squeezing his fingers around hers. “It was always just easier to hate things then to try caring about other people. But if you can be patient, I'm sure I'll figure it out.”
“I'm patient,” she told him, motioning to the room they stood in, which was fading away even as they spoke. “I think we have time.”
“Good,” he told her, twirling his fingers through her once again thick and shiny hair. “Because I would hate it if you decided you'd rather sit here, watching the cottage until someone comes along and discovers us down there.”
Ginny leaned around him, taking one last look at her former self. “We look so pathetic. I can't believe we made it so long.” She glanced over her shoulder at the doorway that seemed to beckon them.
“We wouldn't have made it much longer.”
She looked at him questioningly. Wasn't that obvious? They were already here, where ever here was.
“There was a tree outside with a few apples starting to grow on it.”
“Really? Why didn't you tell me?”
“There were only three. It wouldn't have been enough for us. Plus the Venohex plant was growing up the base of the tree, so I thought it might be poisoned,” he told her, nervously brushing his blond hair out of his eyes. “So I ground up some of the Venohex leaves and every day I spread them on the apples. When they were ready to eat I was going to bring them inside.”
“You were going to kill me?” Ginny asked him slowly.
“Both of us,” he snapped.
“You actually had a plan to kill me,” she said, entertaining the thought of eating a poisoned apple.
“You couldn't even get out of the bed anymore,” he told her desperately. “You were already dying. I couldn't stand it anymore, Gin.”
He looked like he might cry, but she was just about certain that they couldn't cry anymore. There was no need.
“I know,” she smiled widely. “That's in those fairy tales I told. Remember? Snow White's stepmother gave her a poisoned apple.”
He nodded miserably.
“I understand,” she promised him, drawing him into a tight hug, pleased that she could no longer feel his bones beneath his clothing. “It's kind of sweet really.”
“Killing you isn't sweet!” he growled at her.
“Not the death part,” she assured him quickly, “but the fact that you cared enough is what's sweet. Although if I'd known death would be like this, I might have wanted to come sooner.”
“I just didn't want you to suffer anymore.” He cupped his hands under her chin.
“I wasn't suffering,” she said, smiling up at him. “I had you.”
“What if we don't like what's through there?” he asked, his eyes fastening on the doorway.
“It has to be better than what we left,” she said quietly.
He nodded and she loved the way his hair looked, freshly washed and falling into place. “Right. Because we're together.”
“Exactly.” Ginny stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. It was long and perfectly sweet; he fisted her hair tightly, not worried about hurting her anymore and using his fingers to trace lazy circles on her skin. Ginny wrapped her arms around his solid middle, savoring the honeyed taste of his mouth as his free hand pulled her close to him, until there was no space left between them. She knew, although she hadn't exactly doubted it before, that it was love that had brought them together in this place, where ever they were. Her body felt more alive than she'd ever known possible, and for the first time in ages, she could feel the heat radiating from both of them.
For a fleeting moment, she wished their was a way to let her family know that things were fine now.
But her thoughts vanished as he gently nipped at her lower lip, before slowly pulling away.
Draco tugged her towards the open doorway. “I want to know our story.”
*Athelas plant – JRR Tolkien
*Aum plant – Terry Goodkind
*White Hallows & Peya – Ursula K LeGuin
*Tava beans – Stargate Atlantis
*Katterpod – Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
For a moment, she wondered if she was dreaming again but it occurred to her that she was not, although she had no idea why she was so certain of that fact.
She could see Draco, still asleep in his cot, one arm curled around her body, and her stomach lurched for him. Soon enough he would wake and find that she had left him. She wondered how long she would have to wait. An hour? Or would it be a hundred years until he came to join her? Maybe he would get out of the cottage alive and move on with his life, leaving her just a distant, painful memory. She bit her lower lip and decided to wait.
Ginny sat down on the white floor, tucking the folds of her billowy pink dress around her. Pink, she thought, slightly annoyed. I look terrible in pink. But even as she tried to straighten the dress around her, she realized that her legs weren't as skinny as they had been when she'd gone to bed that evening. She let her hand fall across her chest, as it occurred to her that it was back – she had boobs again. Extending her limbs in front of her, she knew somehow that she was beautiful, more beautiful than she'd ever been on earth.
Leaning forward, she looked at her former self, the Ginny Weasley who looked like she was sleeping in a miserable cot in a miserable cottage. Her cheeks were sunken in so far she was surprised she didn't see the outline of her teeth. The dark circles beneath her eyes looked like stains. And the scars... Merlin, the scars on her back were revolting. Draco lied when he told her he thought she was beautiful. Anyone with eyes could see how disfigured and grotesque she was. Instead of the smooth freckled skin she was used to seeing on her body, her flesh was a lumpy, puckered mess of shiny pink scars. She had to look away.
Ginny waited. She watched Draco, unable to do anything else, until he woke up. She was glad, at least, to see him sleeping. She knew that sometimes he didn't sleep; he stayed awake and watched her, waiting.
His eyes slowly opened, and stared at Ginny's not-sleeping form momentarily before leaning over to kiss her. That was when he realized, she could tell. He pressed one hand against her forehead, held his fingers under her nose to check for breath and then placed a hand on her chest. When he was satisfied that she was truly dead, he sat up and looked around.
It pained Ginny to see the blank, hurt look on his face, but from where she sat, there was nothing she could do.
So she waited.
Draco lay back down, holding her for a long time, and she was surprised to see him cry. She hadn't known that he was capable of so many tears. Finally, much to her relief, he pushed himself from the cot and crossed the small room. Draco reached into a cabinet they didn't use and his hand closed on something in there.
He made his way back to the cot and curled his body around hers, even though she knew that her own body must not have been warm and comforting anymore.
As Ginny watched, Draco tucked himself into her before lifting his hand to his mouth.
She knew it was the Venohex leaves.
“They are fast, aren't they?”
Ginny turned her head slightly to see Draco sitting next to her. She reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his. “You look wonderful.”
His eyes traveled her body. “So do you. I would have never guessed that pink could look so amazing on you.”
Like her, his body had filled out again. They were both perfect and healthy. There was no evidence on them of the months in captivity; it was suddenly easy to believe that the war, the cottage and the murders had all been a nightmare. She looked gorgeous, she knew it, and so did he. He looked like he had before, like when they had been in school together, but better. She liked the simple black slacks he wore and the dark green button up; it suited him well. “Look. Your hands are fixed again,” she told him.
He nodded, uninterested in himself as he didn't take his eyes off her.
“Look.” She reached into the pocket of her dress, suddenly knowing what would be there. She pulled out the thin stack of paper hearts he had made her.
Draco glanced over at the spot in the cottage where she kept them above her bed. The hearts were gone.
“They came with me.” She met his eyes. “Last night you told me I was beautiful.”
“You are. You were.” His mouth was full and pink again, and tempting her to kiss him.
“I look so destroyed,” she said, pointing down at herself. “Couldn't you see me?”
He placed his hand under her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Yes. I could see you.”
“Why did you lie to me?”
“I didn't lie,” he told her stubbornly. “I never lie.”
“I wasn't beautiful,” she protested.
“You were alive and you were with me. Therefore, you were beautiful.”
Ginny considered his words for a moment before deciding to accept them. She had no idea what was about to happen to them, but it occurred to her that whatever it was, she was going to be with him for a very long time.
“What's through the door?” he asked, motioning to the opening behind them.
“I don't know,” she told him. “I wanted to wait for you before I looked. I think once we go through we can't come back.”
“It seems warm there,” he said, craning his neck to see though the doorway. “Like summer.”
Ginny nodded. “That's what I thought.”
Draco stood to his feet, casting one final glance at their bodies, tangled together on the beds. “I don't ever want to see that again.”
“Me neither.” She turned away from the scene in the cottage. “I don't think we will.”
“Why did you wait for me?”
“I didn't want to go through there alone,” she told him simply.
He cocked his pale blond head and studied her. “I was awful to you for most the time I knew you. I don't think I could have forgiven me as easily as you did.”
“You were mean,” she agreed. “I wished you had never been brought to the cottage. In the beginning I hoped someone would take you away. But no one ever did.”
“No one ever taught me how to be any different,” he shrugged, squeezing his fingers around hers. “It was always just easier to hate things then to try caring about other people. But if you can be patient, I'm sure I'll figure it out.”
“I'm patient,” she told him, motioning to the room they stood in, which was fading away even as they spoke. “I think we have time.”
“Good,” he told her, twirling his fingers through her once again thick and shiny hair. “Because I would hate it if you decided you'd rather sit here, watching the cottage until someone comes along and discovers us down there.”
Ginny leaned around him, taking one last look at her former self. “We look so pathetic. I can't believe we made it so long.” She glanced over her shoulder at the doorway that seemed to beckon them.
“We wouldn't have made it much longer.”
She looked at him questioningly. Wasn't that obvious? They were already here, where ever here was.
“There was a tree outside with a few apples starting to grow on it.”
“Really? Why didn't you tell me?”
“There were only three. It wouldn't have been enough for us. Plus the Venohex plant was growing up the base of the tree, so I thought it might be poisoned,” he told her, nervously brushing his blond hair out of his eyes. “So I ground up some of the Venohex leaves and every day I spread them on the apples. When they were ready to eat I was going to bring them inside.”
“You were going to kill me?” Ginny asked him slowly.
“Both of us,” he snapped.
“You actually had a plan to kill me,” she said, entertaining the thought of eating a poisoned apple.
“You couldn't even get out of the bed anymore,” he told her desperately. “You were already dying. I couldn't stand it anymore, Gin.”
He looked like he might cry, but she was just about certain that they couldn't cry anymore. There was no need.
“I know,” she smiled widely. “That's in those fairy tales I told. Remember? Snow White's stepmother gave her a poisoned apple.”
He nodded miserably.
“I understand,” she promised him, drawing him into a tight hug, pleased that she could no longer feel his bones beneath his clothing. “It's kind of sweet really.”
“Killing you isn't sweet!” he growled at her.
“Not the death part,” she assured him quickly, “but the fact that you cared enough is what's sweet. Although if I'd known death would be like this, I might have wanted to come sooner.”
“I just didn't want you to suffer anymore.” He cupped his hands under her chin.
“I wasn't suffering,” she said, smiling up at him. “I had you.”
“What if we don't like what's through there?” he asked, his eyes fastening on the doorway.
“It has to be better than what we left,” she said quietly.
He nodded and she loved the way his hair looked, freshly washed and falling into place. “Right. Because we're together.”
“Exactly.” Ginny stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. It was long and perfectly sweet; he fisted her hair tightly, not worried about hurting her anymore and using his fingers to trace lazy circles on her skin. Ginny wrapped her arms around his solid middle, savoring the honeyed taste of his mouth as his free hand pulled her close to him, until there was no space left between them. She knew, although she hadn't exactly doubted it before, that it was love that had brought them together in this place, where ever they were. Her body felt more alive than she'd ever known possible, and for the first time in ages, she could feel the heat radiating from both of them.
For a fleeting moment, she wished their was a way to let her family know that things were fine now.
But her thoughts vanished as he gently nipped at her lower lip, before slowly pulling away.
Draco tugged her towards the open doorway. “I want to know our story.”
*Athelas plant – JRR Tolkien
*Aum plant – Terry Goodkind
*White Hallows & Peya – Ursula K LeGuin
*Tava beans – Stargate Atlantis
*Katterpod – Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
The End.
jessica k malfoy is the author of 29 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 27 members. Members who liked Paper Hearts also liked 867 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 27 members. Members who liked Paper Hearts also liked 867 other stories.
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