Reviews: 5 | Table of Contents | - Text Size +
In the aftermath of the Battle of Hogwarts, the Malfoy name was tarnished and twisted. Though Lucius was returned to Azkaban for the family's crimes, Narcissa and Draco couldn't quite escape the hatred that the masses held for the Malfoy name. While Draco could pretend that it didn't matter, that he knew what he had gotten himself into, Narcissa was starting to crumble. She had been under too much strain during Draco's seventh year, and by the time autumn started, she was a shadow of her former self. Draco could ignore the slights directed at him, but not so for his mother. He was glad his father couldn't see the wraith that she had become.
Not all of his father's library had been confiscated the prior June. He rifled through the texts left on the shelves, and then on the hidden shelves. He finally found a spell that could be useful to him, one that gifted him with visions. The visions would only answer a specific question, so he had to ask it carefully when he cast the spell.
How do I restore the Malfoy family name?
Almost immediately, he was assaulted by images of the littlest Weasley being murdered during a Hogsmeade weekend, a garrote around her throat. He couldn't see who was holding the wire, why it was so vitally important for his family.
"Bloody hell," he breathed once the vision passed. It didn't answer the question, exactly, not as he thought it would. But he knew what he would have to do to restore his family name, and that had to be what the spell was for.
He supposed it was because the Golden Trio was gone that Ginny Weasley would be a target. She was alone now, and any Death Eater or sympathizer left in the area that hadn't been brought in for questioning might think she was a perfect target. Her family was entirely too visible in the supposedly new and improved Wizarding World, and they simply refused to believe that any sympathizers with the old regime might remain. Draco didn't know much about the girl's actual politics, other than she was an idealist and had fought against Snape's authority while at Hogwarts. Draco was going to have to figure out a way to get to Hogsmeade to the alley where she was going to be killed, or find some way into the castle. He didn't much care for stalking, so he was going to have to try to con Headmistress McGonagall into letting him back onto Hogwarts grounds.
Restoring his family name was going to be difficult.
***
McGonagall had believed him when he said he wanted to retake his classes from his seventh year. His time had been taken up with appearing to do the Dark Lord's bidding and avoiding the Carrows; it wasn't much of a stretch to imply that his education had been shoddy. Most of the seventh years opted not to take the NEWTS, and McGonagall was one that prized education. When Draco mentioned wanting to sit for the NEWTS in the spring, she was all too ready to let him retake the seventh year. "You will definitely have more options for employment with NEWT level exams written," McGonagall had told him approvingly. "You're off to a late start, but it's only October. You can make up the lost time in the evenings with a tutor."
"Are there any you have in mind?" he had asked politely, more for something to say than actual interest in tutors. He wasn't stupid; he could make up the work if he wanted to.
"I'll pair you with Ginny Weasley," McGonagall had said. Draco had nearly choked at the sound of her name, but managed to keep still. McGonagall passed a gimlet eye over him, then nodded after a moment. "Hardly conventional, but she is quite skilled at Transfigurations, Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Since those are among the courses you'll be retaking, it's only natural that she should tutor you. I'll make sure that your schedule matches hers."
Either fate was making fun of him, or he was going to be able to restore his family name after all.
***
However he thought she was going to react to McGonagall's plan, laughing in his face didn't figure into it at all.
"Look, you," Draco began through grit teeth. "I just want to take my classes over again. It's not that funny."
"Oh, of course it is, Malfoy," she began, mouth twitching toward another bout of laughter.
Draco was suddenly assaulted by the vision of Ginny being strangled in the Hogsmeade alley. He staggered under the weight of it; this didn't make any sense. He hadn't cast the spell again, so he shouldn't still be seeing the vision. It took him a moment to realize that it wasn't wire that she was being strangled with, and that there was blood along her hands. She fought back against her attacker this time, so it wasn't a complete surprise like before. But now there was a Malfoy crested pin was deliberately being placed beneath her body, and Draco couldn't see who was strangling her.
He fetched up against the castle wall, grasping at it to keep upright. Ginny's laughter died, and she looked at him with genuine concern. "Are you all right, Malfoy? No one said you were sick."
Bloody fuck. He didn't want her pity. He wanted her alive and well. He needed her to survive to clear his name. He needed a Weasley, and the irony of it stung bitterly.
Draco pushed himself away from the wall with some difficulty. "I'll be fine." His haughtiest tone didn't seem to convince her, however.
"You don't look fine, Malfoy," she said hesitantly, reaching out to touch his arm. Draco reacted as if scalded, colliding with the wall again. "What's the matter with you?" she asked, annoyed. "I was just trying to help you!"
"After all my family's done? How do I know you won't do something underhanded?" Draco all but snarled. He didn't want to be weak. There have been too many mistakes already, and he had to be strong to figure out how to save his family. He had to be strong to save Ginny's life. He couldn't stand there sniveling and trying to figure out what his next move was.
Something shifted in her expression, and Draco couldn't quite place it. It wasn't pity, wasn't some misguided sympathy. Maybe understanding was the closest name he could think for it. "All right, Malfoy," she said after a moment. "We're not far from the library. We can figure out what the tutoring schedule is going to be and how far behind you actually are."
This he could tolerate. This he could understand.
He nodded stiffly, and accompanied her to the library. There were a few stares from Gryffindors in her year, but for the most part his presence went largely ignored. It was odd, to be considered just another student. He wasn't feared or hated or admired. He was just another bloke in a school uniform, just another boy needing to write three feet of parchment for an essay.
It was liberating.
Here, he wasn't his mother's closest confidante or the repository of all her hopes and fears. He wasn't the Death Eater that couldn't kill a soul. He wasn't some kind of reject that couldn't make anything work to his benefit. This was a sensation he could live with.
Draco collapsed heavily into a chair across from Ginny. She tucked her red hair behind her ears and fixed him with an intense stare. "First things first. There's going to be rules about this."
"There are?" he asked lazily. He didn't actually need this tutoring, but he had agreed so he could keep an eye on her. Ginny was a Gryffindor, and Gryffindors were stupidly noble where they had no need to be. Maybe that was why she got herself killed.
"You will not call me by anything other than my name. No slurs, no pejorative epithets. Got it?" Draco nodded, suppressing the smirk he wanted to throw at her. "I want no mention of my family or Harry or Hermione whatsoever. None."
"I am more than happy to agree to that one," Draco replied fervently. He gave her a dismissive wave. "Go on with your conditions."
"The Headmistress said we're meeting daily until you're caught up. We'll meet here after dinner. That should give both of us enough time to do whatever homework needs to be done. You'll come here with a list of topics to go over, and we'll stay until the library closes."
"You're very... thorough," Draco remarked, for lack of anything better to say. She didn't look like someone that was going to be killed sometime this school year. She was pretty, actually. Her brown eyes sparkled and she had a vibrancy about her that he had never noticed before.
Merlin, he was noticing her. That had to be a bad sign.
Ginny nodded briskly, oblivious to his internal discomfort. "I've tutored before, and this has always worked well before. This way, we're both prepared and can get to work."
"I'm a good student. I'm probably not that far behind."
"Let me be the judge of that one."
Draco had a flash of Ginny in her school uniform stepping into the alley at Hogsmeade. She didn't look frightened at all, didn't look like she knew she was about to die. He didn't even realize that he had reached out to grasp her hand tightly. He couldn't breathe and his chest burned. He shouldn't be having these visions, right? He hadn't cast the spell, and here he had two visions within the space of a half hour. He couldn't even see anything other than the vivid red of her hair and the Malfoy pin deliberately left beneath her body, bright in the darkness of the alley. It was overcast, maybe raining.
"Malfoy, what is it? Don't lie and say that everything's all right."
She would never believe him if he told her the truth. "Headaches," he gasped out after a moment. It was starting again, another vision, and it was like watching a memory in a pensieve. Her assailant stepped out of the shadows of the alley, a thick rope in hand. Ginny struggled; of course she would struggle, she was a bloody Gryffindor and would go down fighting with her last breath. She gouged tracks along the face hidden inside a cloak, her fingers coming away with blood. The rain washed the blood from her hands and made it difficult for her to find purchase along the cloak. But the rope still circled her neck, and the assailant's hands twisted the rope tight and tighter still.
No Malfoy pin this time, but it was still happening the same way otherwise.
Ginny made a soft sympathetic sound as Draco collapsed onto the desk in a boneless heap. Beware the task you inquire about, the book had warned. Knowledge is a terrible burden. He hadn't realized how much of a burden at the time.
"It's curse damage, isn't it?" she asked softly. "That's why you couldn't come back on time? That's why you need to retake this year?"
"Yeah," Draco croaked, feeling as though his throat was on fire. It was as good an excuse as any.
Her hand closed over his and she gave it a squeeze. It was surprising that she did it, and more so that he liked it. "Yeah. They were a bunch that turned on their own a lot. Their leader left a lot to be desired, if you think about it. Fear never binds people as tightly as devotion can."
Draco pushed himself up to a sitting position and stared at her in shock. "That's... What do you know about it?"
Her smile was tight and haunted, something he had never thought he would ever see on a Weasley's face. "You'd be surprised," she replied, voice tart. "But we're not here to discuss me. Do you have anything you need to go over today?"
"I missed most of my classes today," Draco admitted. His meeting with McGonagall had been in the afternoon, and he hadn't expected to start immediately. "Not to mention the past month."
"Are you up to a refresher in Charms?" Ginny asked, as if he hadn't just collapsed in front of her.
Draco normally would have hated that anyone saw him in a weakened state. Ginny blithely ignored it, as if it didn't matter in the slightest. As if it hadn't happened at all. It was surprising that she would allow him to save face this way, but he was grateful for it. She really didn't deserve to die in the manner she would.
"Charms is good," he said, voice somewhat hoarse. "That's a good place to start."
Ginny smiled at him, and his chest seized in helpless terror. She had looked like that before entering that damned alleyway, as if she was going to meet a friend.
He couldn't let her die. He couldn't.
***
When Draco heard that Hogsmeade weekend was coming up, all he felt was blind terror. It wasn't raining that weekend, but not all of his visions contained rain. "Why don't we go over Transfiguration this weekend?" he asked, grateful that his desperation wasn't coming through.
Ginny looked at him curiously. "You're not going out this weekend, then?"
"Too much to catch up on," Draco lied easily. He flashed her a wan smile. "Why? Did you have plans? Someone to meet in a dark alley?"
Once the words left his mouth, he regretted them. It was an odd thing to say about someone he barely knew, and it would likely lead to telling her about the visions.
But Ginny rolled her eyes. "Stop being a pillock, Malfoy. You'd hardly convince me to tutor you by being rude. I was going to visit my brother."
"Which one?" Draco asked, brows furrowed in thought. He couldn't tell in the vision which alley it was, if it was near her brother's shop or not. It hadn't come back in the past month, and suddenly Draco wished he could prompt another one.
Her lips tightened. "It doesn't matter to you," she replied tightly.
Only then did he realize that one of her brothers had died in the Battle of Hogwarts. Draco wanted to kick himself. It must have been a struggle to go through the castle hallways, seeing where her brother used to be, where he had died. Much of the damage to the castle had been repaired over the summer, but scorch marks and some blocked off corridors remained as constant reminders of the carnage within the castle.
"I'm sorry," Draco murmured, contrite. "I didn't mean to remind you of... Well, to remind you. It was just conversation."
Staring at him oddly, Ginny seemed frozen in place. "It... it wasn't your fault. You didn't do it."
"I didn't stop it either, did I?"
Ginny nodded slowly. "Why are you here, Malfoy? Why are you really here, doing this? You didn't have to come back. You could've taken the free ride they were willing to give you. You don't have to take the NEWTS."
His mouth was dry. He couldn't explain that saving her life would save his. It sounded insane even to his own ears, and he was the one that put the spell together. He sighed. "Trust me, Weasley, I have to be here. It's the only way to fix things."
His tone was much more despondent than he would have liked, but her expression softened. "I'll owl George, then. I can go over Transfiguration with you."
Draco later thought the unfamiliar feeling in his chest was something like hope.
***
The winter snow was deep and thick, more sullen than even the autumn rains had been. Ginny had to be safe now; the vision never had snow on the ground, and Ginny had never worn the heavy winter coats or cloaks that she would have to wear in this kind of weather. Draco relaxed his guard, stopped watching her as closely. He already knew too much about her, more than was probably healthy for his own peace of mind. He had mentioned it in letters to his parents, but Lucius wasn't allowed to reply and Narcissa seemed to be too far gone in her grief to really be aware of what he was telling her. He didn't go to Hogsmeade weekends, but Narcissa received special permission from McGonagall to visit him at the castle.
It was disturbing. Narcissa had always been impeccably dressed over the summer, even as she appeared to be little more than a ghost. As the weeks went by, it seemed to take more and more effort for her to retain her appearance. Draco tried to distract her with stories about his classes, which she seemed to enjoy. She laughed at all the punch lines, especially if it involved a Gryffindor being an idiot.
Although it was clear by the end of October that Draco didn't actually need tutoring, he had been reluctant to let go of Ginny. He still needed to be sure that she didn't go off into Hogsmeade and get herself killed. She somehow seemed to agree that they studied well together, and so they fell into a routine of meeting at their table in the library every Thursday night. Sometimes Draco stared at that red hair, wondering who it was that wanted to kill her, if he could really stop it from happening. Sometimes he wondered if he was truly going to be able to save her, or if this was just a hopeless cause.
"Are you heading out to Hogsmeade this weekend?" Ginny asked him as she put her books away Thursday night. It was December, the last Hogsmeade weekend before hols.
He hadn't been planning to, and was willing to let her go alone. Just as he opened his mouth to answer her, a vision slammed into him with force enough to take his breath away.
She was traipsing through the snow, headed up the main street. She was going to meet her brother at the Three Broomsticks, and there were a few friends along the way. The snow crunched under her feet, and she shivered; her robes and boots weren't thick enough to truly protect against the snow. Ginny heard something between the Broomsticks and the antiques shop across the alley. She stepped into it, curious. No smile on her face, just idle curiosity.
Draco nearly screamed when hands reached out of the shadows and dragged her into the alley.
Ginny was shaking him. "I need to get you to the Infirmary. Madam Pomfrey will know what to do," she was saying, sounding afraid for him. Draco tried to clear the cobwebs from his mind. Did she come to care something about him, then? Or did she think someone would accuse her of inflicting spell damage on him?
"No," he croaked. Shaking his head would only make him dizzy. "I'm fine. I'll be fine."
"Malfoy, your definition of fine is awful." She looked at him in concern. "You haven't had an attack like this since you started school. I should go get someone..."
He grasped her hand tightly. "Stay with me? Don't go this weekend. Just... Don't go."
"Why the hell not?" she asked, startled. "I've had plans for a while now."
Don't die, he wanted to tell her. You can't die, you can't. You can't. I can't let that happen!
But how could he tell her such a thing?
Draco held onto her hand with a white knuckled grip. Pained, she pushed his hands away from hers. "You took a chance on this tutoring thing, right?" he told her. "Please, just do this."
She was eying him warily. "What's wrong with you, Malfoy? What happened?"
"It's a feeling I have," he said finally, thinking that this had to be the worst excuse he'd ever made in his life. "It happens sometimes." He took in her incredulous expression. He pushed himself up to his feet and desperately reached out for her. "Ginny, wait. Please."
She pointedly stared at his hand on her arm and then at his desperate face. He'd never called her by her first name before, never seemed so hopeless and distressed. "Why?"
"Something terrible happens to you this weekend. For Merlin's sake, Ginny, don't go."
"You're not taking Divinations," Ginny replied slowly.
"Ginny, please."
No Malfoy had ever begged a Weasley for anything. They stared at each other for a long moment, each realizing that very fact.
"You mean this, don't you?" Draco could only nod in reply. "So I'm important to you?"
More than you will ever know, Draco thought as he gave her a sharp nod.
Ginny searched his face as if it held the answer to her questions. "What happens this weekend?" she asked, voice quiet.
Draco let out a breath almost hesitantly. "You die."
She blinked at him in surprise. "What?"
He hadn't meant to tell her that, and winced at his words. "I had visions of you. Dying."
"Those headaches, then..." He nodded slowly, his hands clasped on the back of a chair. He looked down at his white knuckles, not sure what else to say. "How in Merlin's name are you seeing those visions then?"
"A spell," Draco said hoarsely. "I cast a spell that would let me see how to save my family."
Ginny looked at Draco's drawn face dubiously. "That can't be possible."
"It is. It's Dark magic, though."
"You are insane."
"I would do anything for my family. Wouldn't you?"
She pressed her lips together unhappily, but couldn't counter his logic. He could very well be thrown out of school for using a Dark spells like that, but she probably would have done the same if she had been given that same opportunity. If she knew a spell like that a year ago, could she have prevented Fred's death? Could she have spared any of her friends their torture at the hands of the Carrows?
"You've been seeing things about me instead of your family, though."
Draco merely nodded. He still hadn't figured out that part, other than it was tied to his family somehow. And maybe more than just the Malfoy crested pin left beneath her corpse.
"Do you think you cast it wrong?" she asked curiously, looking at him.
"Never," he said emphatically.
"So why in Merlin's name are you seeing me?"
He shook his head. "I don't know. But I won't let it happen," he promised. "I don't know how I'll fix it, but I will. I won't ever let it happen."
"But I'm not even anything to you," Ginny protested, shaking her head. She took in his drawn expression again, and stood still. "Am I?"
Draco pressed his lips tight. "I can't let you die," he murmured. "That's all I know."
She reached out and touched his shoulder almost hesitantly. "Draco..."
There was the sound of a bell above them, startling them. It was Madam Pince's signal that the library would be closing in ten minutes.
They looked at each other, not sure what to say. "We should go," Ginny told him. He could only stare at her unhappily, still feeling the last edges of that vision. "I'll meet you here on Saturday. Maybe we could go there together? George won't want to see you, but it'll put your mind at ease, at least."
Draco nodded and followed her out of the library.
He was assaulted by various shifting visions that night, keeping him from sleep. In all of them, they were walking along the main path to the Three Broomsticks together. He was stunned, left along the ground. Ginny checked on him, taking her wand out as she looked around for the source of the stunning spell. Then she was yanked into an alleyway and strangled, black gloved fingers tight around her throat. The Malfoy pin was placed beneath her body, and Draco ran into the alleyway to find her body. Whoever had done it already vanished. He was dragged away by Aurors, still sobbing over her body.
Draco tried to see if he could change things, if he could shift the vision. Could they take a different path? Could he avoid that alley? He had to avoid her death, had to avoid being dragged away by Aurors. It wouldn't matter if someone else killed her. The pin beneath her body and his own wreck of an appearance were damning enough. He would be thrown into Azkaban right next to his father's cell.
This was how he could save his family name, wasn't it? If he could save her, if he could avoid imprisonment, his family could somehow be elevated from its current state.
Ginny came up to him at breakfast the next morning. "You look like death warmed over," she told him. She glared at another seventh year Slytherin student until he reluctantly scooted over on the bench. "What happened?"
"More," he said, his voice hoarse as if he had been screaming for hours. "Worse."
Ginny's reply was cut off by the owl post delivery. A grand looking falcon delivered a slip of parchment to Draco. She could tell it was written in an elegant hand, and he merely sighed when he looked it over. She unceremoniously looked over his shoulder. Narcissa Malfoy had written him a letter, reminding him about the duty to family and his heritage, and that he had to keep his thoughts as pure as his blood. I sacrificed so much to keep you safe. Don't throw that sacrifice away for nothing, she wrote.
"What does she mean by that?" Ginny asked, curious.
"It's rude to read other people's mail," Draco replied in a surly tone. He had thought telling Narcissa about the tutoring and his efforts to save Ginny Weasley would distract her from her deepening depression. Apparently not.
But Ginny didn't rise to the bait. "She's not well, is she?"
"She's all I have left," Draco replied, folding the parchment and slipping it into a pocket of his robes. "I have to go. You shouldn't sit here."
"I can tell George I'm sick," Ginny murmured, not looking at his haggard face. "If you like."
"I'd feel better about that," he rasped. "Thank you."
He didn't have any further visions that day.
***
Draco decided to stay at Hogwarts over hols. Ginny saw Draco leave his name on the list of the students remaining behind. "I thought you would visit your Mum over hols, at least," she said, catching him on his way to class.
"She'll visit me here once I tell her, I'm sure," Draco replied with a shrug. "I have a pass for the Restricted Section, and some more research to do regarding Divination spells."
"You didn't find that spell here, though," Ginny said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "What can you hope to find in the library?"
"There has to be some way to keep you safe without making you stay in the castle all the time," Draco replied with a shrug. "I'll find it if I look hard enough."
"I'll help you," Ginny decided. She jogged back to the bulletin board outside the Great Hall and left her name there as well. "This should make the research go faster."
Narcissa sent Draco a howler, but he opened it inside an empty classroom in the dungeons. He sat there calmly while she screamed, knowing she didn't really understand what he was trying to do. This was to save the Malfoy name, not a bout of selfishness. He knew he would see her at the school over hols, and maybe would be able to explain it then.
But the visions returned. Ginny was standing outside Hogwarts in the rain, looking as though she was waiting for someone along the path to Hogsmeade. It was growing dark, the shadows long across the path. Her hair was plastered to her face, and yet still she kept looking along the path toward Hogsmeade. Out of the shadows came a figure swathed in black from head to toe, a hooded heavy cloak further obscuring features. Thick black gloves closed over Ginny's throat. She struggled, but couldn't find any purchase. Her fingers slid across the drenched cloak, scrabbling along the arms behind her to try and pinch something hard enough to get her attacker to let go. But the attacker didn't let go until long after Ginny went limp, and tossed her aside into a puddle of muddy water alongside the path. If she wasn't dead of strangulation, she would die of drowning. The figure deliberately placed the Malfoy crested pin into Ginny's clenched fist, making it seem as though she had pulled it off of Draco's cloak.
She wasn't safe, even on Hogwarts grounds. The knowledge was chilling.
***
Theodore Nott was another of the Slytherins staying behind over hols. His father was in Azkaban and his mother had died when he was six. There was no reason to return home, and he could read his massive tomes in the Slytherin common room or library as well as Nott Manor. He was there when Narcissa Malfoy arrived to visit Draco, and he dutifully escorted her to the library. Draco was spending all of his time there, most of it beside Ginny Weasley. She was pretty enough, and pureblooded, but Theodore could tell that Narcissa was far from pleased. Even if she didn't look like the Narcissa he remembered from society balls, she still commanded respect. Her hair was loose and graying, her robes tattered at the edges and hanging off of her frame in an unflattering way. She clutched a black velvet cloak around her, the Malfoy crest at her throat. Her face was devoid of any makeup, though she still looked somewhat young for her age. "I'll head back to the common room, Mrs. Malfoy," Theodore told her with a shallow bow. "Is there anything else you require before I go?"
She smiled at him faintly, tapping his arm. "No need, young Nott. My son will escort me back." Her voice carried an edge to it along with the dismissal.
Draco was sitting at a table near the Restricted Section, piles of books all around him. Ginny Weasley was beside him, poring over whatever he had written on parchment, another stack of books in front of her. Narcissa's lips thinned as she contemplated her son. He had been everything to her, even before the loss of her husband. Bella was dead, Andromeda was as good as dead, Lucius was in Azkaban and now her son was enamored with a Weasley.
Narcissa cleared her throat, and Draco looked up. He blanched at the sight of his mother, how very ordinary she looked, how her hair seemed to hang in stringy knots around her face. "Mother!"
"You weren't in the common room when you said you would be," she accused.
Draco pulled a face and turned to Ginny. "I've got to go..."
"I'll finish the research project," Ginny said, nodding. She watched Draco leap to his feet and approach his mother carefully. Whatever he said must have mollified her, because she didn't look quite so angry with him. She took his arm, leaning on it heavily, and they left the library together.
Ginny remembered seeing Narcissa Malfoy at events prior to the war. She had always seemed to be elegant and calm, almost regal in her bearing. The war had broken her. Ginny could absolutely understand why Draco would go to any length to save his family.
"You're leaving me behind," Narcissa said once they were alone in the hallway, her voice low and pained. "After all we've been through together..."
"No, Mother," Draco protested, squeezing her hand tightly. "I'm doing this for you. I can figure this out, I know I can. You've always said I was clever. If I'm clever enough, I'll learn why she's so important to our family, why she's the one that helps us."
"You haven't figured it out yet?" Narcissa asked, head tilted slightly. "That's not like you."
"No, it's not," Draco replied, frustration coloring his tone. "I don't know why this is so difficult. Every time I think I have it figured out, I get another vision. I keep trying to change things, to save her. And every time I fail."
Narcissa's grip on his hand was almost painful. "No, my son. I know you're not a failure. You're a clever young man, the future for the Malfoy and Black houses. Never think you're a failure."
Draco smiled at his mother. "Thank you, Mother."
"You just needed a reminder," Narcissa murmured absently. "You've been forgetting yourself. But I'm here, now. I'll help you remember."
***
The vision slammed into Draco with such ferocity that he fell to his knees in the common room and looked like he was having a seizure.
Ginny was walking toward Hogsmeade, wrapped up in a coat and scarf and dressed more like a Muggle than a witch. She had her shoulders hunched against the cold rain beginning to fall, looking down at the path to be sure she wouldn't slip. The temperature hovered just above freezing, but there was still snow and ice along the hilly path, and she didn't want to slip and roll down the way to Hogsmeade.
The cloaked figure in black swooped down out of the shadows out of the trees. The figure had been following her, had been looking for an opportune time when she would be alone. The hands wrapped tightly around her throat, shaking her as she thrashed about looking for purchase to throw off her attacker. But her feet slipped out from under her, and her hands were inside of large woolen mittens and couldn't catch hold of anything.
The Malfoy pin winked at Draco in the fading light, Ginny's dead eyes dim and hollow.
Draco came to in Narcissa's lap by the fire in the Slytherin common room. She was stroking his hair, murmuring something under her breath, something about how he was her only son, her only child, and had to be protected from himself. "Mum," he rasped.
She looked down, her blue eyes looking almost crazed. "You looked half dead."
He sighed and pushed himself up to sitting. "I'm fine, Mum. Mother. Please, I'm fine." He took her hands in his. "I'll figure this out, I told you. I'll fix this, and I'll make it better for us. I'm clever enough, I'm just overlooking something."
Narcissa cradled his face in her hands. "My son, my son. My only son. You work yourself too hard. Let go of this. Stop looking."
"I can't," Draco insisted stubbornly. "I have to do this. I can do this."
She knew the stubborn tilt of his chin, the way his lips pressed tightly together. It was the Black in him, the way he latched onto something and refused to let go. It was how she had lost Bella to the Dark Lord and Andromeda to a Muggle. And now she was losing her son to the task of saving his Malfoy heritage.
"You're going to kill yourself," Narcissa said, almost a whimper.
Draco hated seeing his mother look so lost, so weak. He kissed her cheek gently and tried to smooth her hair back into a semblance of order. "I'm going to make it right, somehow. I'll save her life, and our lives will be better for it."
She watched him head to the library with empty eyes.
***
The vision changed as he settled into his seat across from Ginny.
Ginny was looking over her shoulder, heading away from the castle and toward Hogsmeade. The way the pale light slanted over her features made Draco think it was late afternoon. She was being followed, being chased by someone. Someone had been following her all day, and she had thought that hands nearly closed over her shoulder as she was on her way back to Gryffindor Tower. So she had run from the castle, using a tunnel she had learned about from the twins, and she hadn't even stopped to grab a cloak.
But Ginny shook Draco out of the vision before it could be completed. He fixed his eyes on her face, mouth gaping open as he tried to breathe. "Following you," he gasped.
She sat down heavily next to him, looking over the piles of books all around them. "So all this reading we've been doing is for nothing."
He blinked; the vision that had started had been stopped in its tracks. "How did you do that?"
"Do what?"
"You stopped it. They usually run their course and I'm shaking after. You stopped it before it really started." He frowned at her. "How can you stop it?"
Ginny sighed and tentatively took his hand in hers. "Maybe because it's about me?"
He was rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb almost absently. He dropped her hand as soon as he realized it, almost flushing in embarrassment. He hadn't meant to do that, not really, not to imply that he had thoughts of her that way. But Ginny smiled at him ruefully, shaking her head. "What?" he asked irritably. She shouldn't laugh at him. He was doing all of this research for her, the silly girl.
"Why don't you just say why I'm so important to you?" she asked, voice soft. Her eyes raked over his face, settling on his mouth. "Just tell me why."
"There's nothing to say." Draco looked at her stubbornly, but Ginny was grinning at him unrepentantly. "What?"
Ginny leaned forward and kissed him, the touch soft yet setting his nerves on edge. He meant to push her away. He did. But instead his hands curled around her shoulders and pulled her in closer, and his mouth opened to deepen the kiss. She responded, arms circling him as her tongue slid into his mouth. It shouldn't have made as much sense as it did, shouldn't have felt as good as it did. But he moved over her mouth as if he could devour her, as if he could keep her safe by sheer force of will.
Draco leaned against her when the kiss ended, not quite able to meet her gaze. "Oh."
She laughed softly, her fingers caught in the fastenings of his robe. "Outstanding."
Her fingers brushed along the pin on his robe, the Malfoy crest catching the faint light in the library. Draco stiffened, mouth falling open.
The world was tilting, spinning around, and all he could see was darkness around him. They were being followed, they were being hunted. Someone wanted to get their hands around Ginny's neck, wanted to squeeze the very life out of her. The rage was choking him.
"What is it?" Ginny asked, concerned, shaking him.
Draco fetched up against the floor, but he could feel his body jerk as the vision rolled through him. He couldn't stop it from happening. "Following you," he gasped, seeing her red hair swim into his tunnel vision. "Following us."
"So they want to kill both of us now?" she asked, eyes wide as saucers. Draco could only nod, his back arching up as his muscles tightened. In his vision, they were running, running, running, and he could hear the distant sound of heels on stone as they were being followed. "But why?"
"Don't know," he gasped, trying to straighten his limbs and sit up. The vision was shifting even as he tried to pin it down to look at it. He saw the library stacks now, the tall shelves on either side of the attacker, the table they were crouched behind. "Here," he cried, grasping hold of Ginny's shoulders painfully.
Draco could feel the murderous intent. Rage.
"Draco, can you run?" she asked, insistent.
The world was tilting, crashing down around him. He could see the table as he tried to use it to pull himself up, and he could see himself from the attacker's point of view. He turned his head toward the shadowy stacks, tried to peer into them to see who might be there. He was looking at himself in the vision, his face drawn and pale, terror etched into his features. And Ginny was at his side, her hair a messy red halo around her own pale face. She was scared, but there was more concern for Draco than for herself.
She cared, she had feelings, and dear Merlin, she was going to die. He couldn't let that happen.
"Can you run?" Ginny whispered, trying to peer into the shadows where he was looking at.
He was trembling in her arms; the vision making things confusing for him. It seemed to hang steady for an impossible moment, as if the future was still waiting to be made.
"I can run," he whispered, staring into the darkness and into his own determined face.
"Then come with me if you want to live," Ginny said, taking his hand tightly in hers. "I can get us out of here."
And then the vision came crashing down around him again, the world tilting beneath him as he began to run after Ginny.
They were fast, but so was their pursuer. Draco stumbled after her, not knowing what hallways they were heading through, not recognizing anything. He saw things superimposed over each other, the hallway they were running through as well as the hallway they had just passed that the attacker was using. He was dizzy, panting, his chest tight and his heart feeling as though it would burst at any moment.
Ginny had to survive. That was the important thing. She had to live.
They plunged into darkness of a tunnel, and Draco wanted to scream. No, no, not here, not here, not this!
But they were running through a tunnel, heading out of Hogwarts. He could hear the sound of heels on stone, and then even that was gone as their pursuer entered the tunnel as well. Ginny's panic was controlled; she could get them out of Hogwarts and to safety in Hogsmeade if only they were fast enough. Hogwarts was nearly deserted over hols, but the village was bustling and full of people. They would be safe there, surely.
Draco could see himself stunned in the back, could see himself being tossed down the path toward the village. He could see himself strung up by his robes from a tree, left dangling and unable to free himself in time to save Ginny from strangulation. He kept running, kept going faster, kept praying to Merlin that he could do something different.
"Hurry," Ginny panted as she slipped through the tunnel and out into the field between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. "I'll go left, you go right. We'll meet at the village, at the Broomsticks. We'll get help once we're there. Just follow the path, it'll lead right to the village. He can't follow us both at once," she gasped.
No, he wanted to say. No, Ginny was the main target. Draco was incidental. Ginny was the one that their pursuer really wanted to kill. The rage was directed at her.
She zigged left from the opening, letting go of Draco's hand. He doggedly chased after her, ignoring her hisses to go right. He had to keep her alive somehow. He had to save her. She was the one that was meant to live, she was the one that had to survive this. He reached into his robes to try and fling a spell behind them, but he had dropped it somewhere along the way. He couldn't find it, couldn't do anything but run. Ginny had her wand out and was throwing hexes behind her erratically, her aim terrible as she ran. Not a single one slowed down their pursuer.
Draco stumbled, and Ginny pulled ahead. She half turned, slowing down. It looked as though she might double back to help him up. "Run!" he shouted at her. "Forget me, just run!"
He turned toward the attacker rushing along the path and launched himself at the figure without even thinking twice about it. He was dizzy, his vision a tangle of black and the fine, misty rain that was starting to fall. He heard the crash of a fireworks spell nearby, but he couldn't tell where Ginny was. He couldn't see her, couldn't hear her. All he could see was the black cloak of the attacker that he was tangled in, and he could feel the smooth leather of the black gloves pushing at his face. Draco flailed at the hands, pushing forward into the attacker's body.
They rolled down along the path to Hogsmeade. The next thing he knew, he was locked in place, the heel of his hand pushing up on the attacker's chin. It was a woman that wanted Ginny dead, a woman that he was trying to disentangle himself from.
They were both immobilized, and hands roughly pulled them apart. He could see Ginny standing there, her wild red hair plastered to her skull. McGonagall and Professor Vector were standing there, wands drawn. Filch had the attacker, and pulled the hood down from her head.
Narcissa Malfoy stared back at them, her face frozen in a mask of fury.
Released from the spell cast on him, Draco fell to his knees in the mud. "Mother? But..."
He stared after her as Ginny knelt beside him. She was snarling, struggling in Filch's grasp. "Let go of her!" Narcissa screeched. "Don't sully your blood! I'll keep you safe, I'll make sure you'll stay safe! Toujours pur!"
Filch seemed to almost enjoy manhandling her as they made their way back to the castle. He was shivering, not sure what was happening. Ginny slid her arm around his shoulders. "I'm sorry," she murmured, pressing her head against his. She didn't care that she was getting muddy as well, that they were kneeling in the rain together.
Draco held onto her tightly, his eyes drifting closed. The vision was gone, and he only saw one reality now. "Why are you apologizing? She was going to kill you."
"She's still your mum," Ginny murmured. She brushed her lips against a clean spot on his temple. "Come on. Let's go inside and get cleaned up."
He held onto her tightly. It didn't feel like the world was tilting, not quite, not like before. But if his mother had wanted to kill her, if his father was in Azkaban, what was there to live for? What was the point in trying to save his family?
Ginny threaded her fingers through his, then moved her lips to cover his in a gentle kiss.
Oh.
He kissed her back fiercely, tangling his hands in her hair and holding onto her for dear life. She had been the only constant in his life over the past few months, the only thing that seemed to make sense.
Now he knew. Now he understood. She was meant to live for him.
They trudged back to the castle together. Whatever else the future had in mind, Draco knew that he didn't have to face it alone.
The End.
Not all of his father's library had been confiscated the prior June. He rifled through the texts left on the shelves, and then on the hidden shelves. He finally found a spell that could be useful to him, one that gifted him with visions. The visions would only answer a specific question, so he had to ask it carefully when he cast the spell.
How do I restore the Malfoy family name?
Almost immediately, he was assaulted by images of the littlest Weasley being murdered during a Hogsmeade weekend, a garrote around her throat. He couldn't see who was holding the wire, why it was so vitally important for his family.
"Bloody hell," he breathed once the vision passed. It didn't answer the question, exactly, not as he thought it would. But he knew what he would have to do to restore his family name, and that had to be what the spell was for.
He supposed it was because the Golden Trio was gone that Ginny Weasley would be a target. She was alone now, and any Death Eater or sympathizer left in the area that hadn't been brought in for questioning might think she was a perfect target. Her family was entirely too visible in the supposedly new and improved Wizarding World, and they simply refused to believe that any sympathizers with the old regime might remain. Draco didn't know much about the girl's actual politics, other than she was an idealist and had fought against Snape's authority while at Hogwarts. Draco was going to have to figure out a way to get to Hogsmeade to the alley where she was going to be killed, or find some way into the castle. He didn't much care for stalking, so he was going to have to try to con Headmistress McGonagall into letting him back onto Hogwarts grounds.
Restoring his family name was going to be difficult.
McGonagall had believed him when he said he wanted to retake his classes from his seventh year. His time had been taken up with appearing to do the Dark Lord's bidding and avoiding the Carrows; it wasn't much of a stretch to imply that his education had been shoddy. Most of the seventh years opted not to take the NEWTS, and McGonagall was one that prized education. When Draco mentioned wanting to sit for the NEWTS in the spring, she was all too ready to let him retake the seventh year. "You will definitely have more options for employment with NEWT level exams written," McGonagall had told him approvingly. "You're off to a late start, but it's only October. You can make up the lost time in the evenings with a tutor."
"Are there any you have in mind?" he had asked politely, more for something to say than actual interest in tutors. He wasn't stupid; he could make up the work if he wanted to.
"I'll pair you with Ginny Weasley," McGonagall had said. Draco had nearly choked at the sound of her name, but managed to keep still. McGonagall passed a gimlet eye over him, then nodded after a moment. "Hardly conventional, but she is quite skilled at Transfigurations, Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Since those are among the courses you'll be retaking, it's only natural that she should tutor you. I'll make sure that your schedule matches hers."
Either fate was making fun of him, or he was going to be able to restore his family name after all.
However he thought she was going to react to McGonagall's plan, laughing in his face didn't figure into it at all.
"Look, you," Draco began through grit teeth. "I just want to take my classes over again. It's not that funny."
"Oh, of course it is, Malfoy," she began, mouth twitching toward another bout of laughter.
Draco was suddenly assaulted by the vision of Ginny being strangled in the Hogsmeade alley. He staggered under the weight of it; this didn't make any sense. He hadn't cast the spell again, so he shouldn't still be seeing the vision. It took him a moment to realize that it wasn't wire that she was being strangled with, and that there was blood along her hands. She fought back against her attacker this time, so it wasn't a complete surprise like before. But now there was a Malfoy crested pin was deliberately being placed beneath her body, and Draco couldn't see who was strangling her.
He fetched up against the castle wall, grasping at it to keep upright. Ginny's laughter died, and she looked at him with genuine concern. "Are you all right, Malfoy? No one said you were sick."
Bloody fuck. He didn't want her pity. He wanted her alive and well. He needed her to survive to clear his name. He needed a Weasley, and the irony of it stung bitterly.
Draco pushed himself away from the wall with some difficulty. "I'll be fine." His haughtiest tone didn't seem to convince her, however.
"You don't look fine, Malfoy," she said hesitantly, reaching out to touch his arm. Draco reacted as if scalded, colliding with the wall again. "What's the matter with you?" she asked, annoyed. "I was just trying to help you!"
"After all my family's done? How do I know you won't do something underhanded?" Draco all but snarled. He didn't want to be weak. There have been too many mistakes already, and he had to be strong to figure out how to save his family. He had to be strong to save Ginny's life. He couldn't stand there sniveling and trying to figure out what his next move was.
Something shifted in her expression, and Draco couldn't quite place it. It wasn't pity, wasn't some misguided sympathy. Maybe understanding was the closest name he could think for it. "All right, Malfoy," she said after a moment. "We're not far from the library. We can figure out what the tutoring schedule is going to be and how far behind you actually are."
This he could tolerate. This he could understand.
He nodded stiffly, and accompanied her to the library. There were a few stares from Gryffindors in her year, but for the most part his presence went largely ignored. It was odd, to be considered just another student. He wasn't feared or hated or admired. He was just another bloke in a school uniform, just another boy needing to write three feet of parchment for an essay.
It was liberating.
Here, he wasn't his mother's closest confidante or the repository of all her hopes and fears. He wasn't the Death Eater that couldn't kill a soul. He wasn't some kind of reject that couldn't make anything work to his benefit. This was a sensation he could live with.
Draco collapsed heavily into a chair across from Ginny. She tucked her red hair behind her ears and fixed him with an intense stare. "First things first. There's going to be rules about this."
"There are?" he asked lazily. He didn't actually need this tutoring, but he had agreed so he could keep an eye on her. Ginny was a Gryffindor, and Gryffindors were stupidly noble where they had no need to be. Maybe that was why she got herself killed.
"You will not call me by anything other than my name. No slurs, no pejorative epithets. Got it?" Draco nodded, suppressing the smirk he wanted to throw at her. "I want no mention of my family or Harry or Hermione whatsoever. None."
"I am more than happy to agree to that one," Draco replied fervently. He gave her a dismissive wave. "Go on with your conditions."
"The Headmistress said we're meeting daily until you're caught up. We'll meet here after dinner. That should give both of us enough time to do whatever homework needs to be done. You'll come here with a list of topics to go over, and we'll stay until the library closes."
"You're very... thorough," Draco remarked, for lack of anything better to say. She didn't look like someone that was going to be killed sometime this school year. She was pretty, actually. Her brown eyes sparkled and she had a vibrancy about her that he had never noticed before.
Merlin, he was noticing her. That had to be a bad sign.
Ginny nodded briskly, oblivious to his internal discomfort. "I've tutored before, and this has always worked well before. This way, we're both prepared and can get to work."
"I'm a good student. I'm probably not that far behind."
"Let me be the judge of that one."
Draco had a flash of Ginny in her school uniform stepping into the alley at Hogsmeade. She didn't look frightened at all, didn't look like she knew she was about to die. He didn't even realize that he had reached out to grasp her hand tightly. He couldn't breathe and his chest burned. He shouldn't be having these visions, right? He hadn't cast the spell, and here he had two visions within the space of a half hour. He couldn't even see anything other than the vivid red of her hair and the Malfoy pin deliberately left beneath her body, bright in the darkness of the alley. It was overcast, maybe raining.
"Malfoy, what is it? Don't lie and say that everything's all right."
She would never believe him if he told her the truth. "Headaches," he gasped out after a moment. It was starting again, another vision, and it was like watching a memory in a pensieve. Her assailant stepped out of the shadows of the alley, a thick rope in hand. Ginny struggled; of course she would struggle, she was a bloody Gryffindor and would go down fighting with her last breath. She gouged tracks along the face hidden inside a cloak, her fingers coming away with blood. The rain washed the blood from her hands and made it difficult for her to find purchase along the cloak. But the rope still circled her neck, and the assailant's hands twisted the rope tight and tighter still.
No Malfoy pin this time, but it was still happening the same way otherwise.
Ginny made a soft sympathetic sound as Draco collapsed onto the desk in a boneless heap. Beware the task you inquire about, the book had warned. Knowledge is a terrible burden. He hadn't realized how much of a burden at the time.
"It's curse damage, isn't it?" she asked softly. "That's why you couldn't come back on time? That's why you need to retake this year?"
"Yeah," Draco croaked, feeling as though his throat was on fire. It was as good an excuse as any.
Her hand closed over his and she gave it a squeeze. It was surprising that she did it, and more so that he liked it. "Yeah. They were a bunch that turned on their own a lot. Their leader left a lot to be desired, if you think about it. Fear never binds people as tightly as devotion can."
Draco pushed himself up to a sitting position and stared at her in shock. "That's... What do you know about it?"
Her smile was tight and haunted, something he had never thought he would ever see on a Weasley's face. "You'd be surprised," she replied, voice tart. "But we're not here to discuss me. Do you have anything you need to go over today?"
"I missed most of my classes today," Draco admitted. His meeting with McGonagall had been in the afternoon, and he hadn't expected to start immediately. "Not to mention the past month."
"Are you up to a refresher in Charms?" Ginny asked, as if he hadn't just collapsed in front of her.
Draco normally would have hated that anyone saw him in a weakened state. Ginny blithely ignored it, as if it didn't matter in the slightest. As if it hadn't happened at all. It was surprising that she would allow him to save face this way, but he was grateful for it. She really didn't deserve to die in the manner she would.
"Charms is good," he said, voice somewhat hoarse. "That's a good place to start."
Ginny smiled at him, and his chest seized in helpless terror. She had looked like that before entering that damned alleyway, as if she was going to meet a friend.
He couldn't let her die. He couldn't.
When Draco heard that Hogsmeade weekend was coming up, all he felt was blind terror. It wasn't raining that weekend, but not all of his visions contained rain. "Why don't we go over Transfiguration this weekend?" he asked, grateful that his desperation wasn't coming through.
Ginny looked at him curiously. "You're not going out this weekend, then?"
"Too much to catch up on," Draco lied easily. He flashed her a wan smile. "Why? Did you have plans? Someone to meet in a dark alley?"
Once the words left his mouth, he regretted them. It was an odd thing to say about someone he barely knew, and it would likely lead to telling her about the visions.
But Ginny rolled her eyes. "Stop being a pillock, Malfoy. You'd hardly convince me to tutor you by being rude. I was going to visit my brother."
"Which one?" Draco asked, brows furrowed in thought. He couldn't tell in the vision which alley it was, if it was near her brother's shop or not. It hadn't come back in the past month, and suddenly Draco wished he could prompt another one.
Her lips tightened. "It doesn't matter to you," she replied tightly.
Only then did he realize that one of her brothers had died in the Battle of Hogwarts. Draco wanted to kick himself. It must have been a struggle to go through the castle hallways, seeing where her brother used to be, where he had died. Much of the damage to the castle had been repaired over the summer, but scorch marks and some blocked off corridors remained as constant reminders of the carnage within the castle.
"I'm sorry," Draco murmured, contrite. "I didn't mean to remind you of... Well, to remind you. It was just conversation."
Staring at him oddly, Ginny seemed frozen in place. "It... it wasn't your fault. You didn't do it."
"I didn't stop it either, did I?"
Ginny nodded slowly. "Why are you here, Malfoy? Why are you really here, doing this? You didn't have to come back. You could've taken the free ride they were willing to give you. You don't have to take the NEWTS."
His mouth was dry. He couldn't explain that saving her life would save his. It sounded insane even to his own ears, and he was the one that put the spell together. He sighed. "Trust me, Weasley, I have to be here. It's the only way to fix things."
His tone was much more despondent than he would have liked, but her expression softened. "I'll owl George, then. I can go over Transfiguration with you."
Draco later thought the unfamiliar feeling in his chest was something like hope.
The winter snow was deep and thick, more sullen than even the autumn rains had been. Ginny had to be safe now; the vision never had snow on the ground, and Ginny had never worn the heavy winter coats or cloaks that she would have to wear in this kind of weather. Draco relaxed his guard, stopped watching her as closely. He already knew too much about her, more than was probably healthy for his own peace of mind. He had mentioned it in letters to his parents, but Lucius wasn't allowed to reply and Narcissa seemed to be too far gone in her grief to really be aware of what he was telling her. He didn't go to Hogsmeade weekends, but Narcissa received special permission from McGonagall to visit him at the castle.
It was disturbing. Narcissa had always been impeccably dressed over the summer, even as she appeared to be little more than a ghost. As the weeks went by, it seemed to take more and more effort for her to retain her appearance. Draco tried to distract her with stories about his classes, which she seemed to enjoy. She laughed at all the punch lines, especially if it involved a Gryffindor being an idiot.
Although it was clear by the end of October that Draco didn't actually need tutoring, he had been reluctant to let go of Ginny. He still needed to be sure that she didn't go off into Hogsmeade and get herself killed. She somehow seemed to agree that they studied well together, and so they fell into a routine of meeting at their table in the library every Thursday night. Sometimes Draco stared at that red hair, wondering who it was that wanted to kill her, if he could really stop it from happening. Sometimes he wondered if he was truly going to be able to save her, or if this was just a hopeless cause.
"Are you heading out to Hogsmeade this weekend?" Ginny asked him as she put her books away Thursday night. It was December, the last Hogsmeade weekend before hols.
He hadn't been planning to, and was willing to let her go alone. Just as he opened his mouth to answer her, a vision slammed into him with force enough to take his breath away.
She was traipsing through the snow, headed up the main street. She was going to meet her brother at the Three Broomsticks, and there were a few friends along the way. The snow crunched under her feet, and she shivered; her robes and boots weren't thick enough to truly protect against the snow. Ginny heard something between the Broomsticks and the antiques shop across the alley. She stepped into it, curious. No smile on her face, just idle curiosity.
Draco nearly screamed when hands reached out of the shadows and dragged her into the alley.
Ginny was shaking him. "I need to get you to the Infirmary. Madam Pomfrey will know what to do," she was saying, sounding afraid for him. Draco tried to clear the cobwebs from his mind. Did she come to care something about him, then? Or did she think someone would accuse her of inflicting spell damage on him?
"No," he croaked. Shaking his head would only make him dizzy. "I'm fine. I'll be fine."
"Malfoy, your definition of fine is awful." She looked at him in concern. "You haven't had an attack like this since you started school. I should go get someone..."
He grasped her hand tightly. "Stay with me? Don't go this weekend. Just... Don't go."
"Why the hell not?" she asked, startled. "I've had plans for a while now."
Don't die, he wanted to tell her. You can't die, you can't. You can't. I can't let that happen!
But how could he tell her such a thing?
Draco held onto her hand with a white knuckled grip. Pained, she pushed his hands away from hers. "You took a chance on this tutoring thing, right?" he told her. "Please, just do this."
She was eying him warily. "What's wrong with you, Malfoy? What happened?"
"It's a feeling I have," he said finally, thinking that this had to be the worst excuse he'd ever made in his life. "It happens sometimes." He took in her incredulous expression. He pushed himself up to his feet and desperately reached out for her. "Ginny, wait. Please."
She pointedly stared at his hand on her arm and then at his desperate face. He'd never called her by her first name before, never seemed so hopeless and distressed. "Why?"
"Something terrible happens to you this weekend. For Merlin's sake, Ginny, don't go."
"You're not taking Divinations," Ginny replied slowly.
"Ginny, please."
No Malfoy had ever begged a Weasley for anything. They stared at each other for a long moment, each realizing that very fact.
"You mean this, don't you?" Draco could only nod in reply. "So I'm important to you?"
More than you will ever know, Draco thought as he gave her a sharp nod.
Ginny searched his face as if it held the answer to her questions. "What happens this weekend?" she asked, voice quiet.
Draco let out a breath almost hesitantly. "You die."
She blinked at him in surprise. "What?"
He hadn't meant to tell her that, and winced at his words. "I had visions of you. Dying."
"Those headaches, then..." He nodded slowly, his hands clasped on the back of a chair. He looked down at his white knuckles, not sure what else to say. "How in Merlin's name are you seeing those visions then?"
"A spell," Draco said hoarsely. "I cast a spell that would let me see how to save my family."
Ginny looked at Draco's drawn face dubiously. "That can't be possible."
"It is. It's Dark magic, though."
"You are insane."
"I would do anything for my family. Wouldn't you?"
She pressed her lips together unhappily, but couldn't counter his logic. He could very well be thrown out of school for using a Dark spells like that, but she probably would have done the same if she had been given that same opportunity. If she knew a spell like that a year ago, could she have prevented Fred's death? Could she have spared any of her friends their torture at the hands of the Carrows?
"You've been seeing things about me instead of your family, though."
Draco merely nodded. He still hadn't figured out that part, other than it was tied to his family somehow. And maybe more than just the Malfoy crested pin left beneath her corpse.
"Do you think you cast it wrong?" she asked curiously, looking at him.
"Never," he said emphatically.
"So why in Merlin's name are you seeing me?"
He shook his head. "I don't know. But I won't let it happen," he promised. "I don't know how I'll fix it, but I will. I won't ever let it happen."
"But I'm not even anything to you," Ginny protested, shaking her head. She took in his drawn expression again, and stood still. "Am I?"
Draco pressed his lips tight. "I can't let you die," he murmured. "That's all I know."
She reached out and touched his shoulder almost hesitantly. "Draco..."
There was the sound of a bell above them, startling them. It was Madam Pince's signal that the library would be closing in ten minutes.
They looked at each other, not sure what to say. "We should go," Ginny told him. He could only stare at her unhappily, still feeling the last edges of that vision. "I'll meet you here on Saturday. Maybe we could go there together? George won't want to see you, but it'll put your mind at ease, at least."
Draco nodded and followed her out of the library.
He was assaulted by various shifting visions that night, keeping him from sleep. In all of them, they were walking along the main path to the Three Broomsticks together. He was stunned, left along the ground. Ginny checked on him, taking her wand out as she looked around for the source of the stunning spell. Then she was yanked into an alleyway and strangled, black gloved fingers tight around her throat. The Malfoy pin was placed beneath her body, and Draco ran into the alleyway to find her body. Whoever had done it already vanished. He was dragged away by Aurors, still sobbing over her body.
Draco tried to see if he could change things, if he could shift the vision. Could they take a different path? Could he avoid that alley? He had to avoid her death, had to avoid being dragged away by Aurors. It wouldn't matter if someone else killed her. The pin beneath her body and his own wreck of an appearance were damning enough. He would be thrown into Azkaban right next to his father's cell.
This was how he could save his family name, wasn't it? If he could save her, if he could avoid imprisonment, his family could somehow be elevated from its current state.
Ginny came up to him at breakfast the next morning. "You look like death warmed over," she told him. She glared at another seventh year Slytherin student until he reluctantly scooted over on the bench. "What happened?"
"More," he said, his voice hoarse as if he had been screaming for hours. "Worse."
Ginny's reply was cut off by the owl post delivery. A grand looking falcon delivered a slip of parchment to Draco. She could tell it was written in an elegant hand, and he merely sighed when he looked it over. She unceremoniously looked over his shoulder. Narcissa Malfoy had written him a letter, reminding him about the duty to family and his heritage, and that he had to keep his thoughts as pure as his blood. I sacrificed so much to keep you safe. Don't throw that sacrifice away for nothing, she wrote.
"What does she mean by that?" Ginny asked, curious.
"It's rude to read other people's mail," Draco replied in a surly tone. He had thought telling Narcissa about the tutoring and his efforts to save Ginny Weasley would distract her from her deepening depression. Apparently not.
But Ginny didn't rise to the bait. "She's not well, is she?"
"She's all I have left," Draco replied, folding the parchment and slipping it into a pocket of his robes. "I have to go. You shouldn't sit here."
"I can tell George I'm sick," Ginny murmured, not looking at his haggard face. "If you like."
"I'd feel better about that," he rasped. "Thank you."
He didn't have any further visions that day.
Draco decided to stay at Hogwarts over hols. Ginny saw Draco leave his name on the list of the students remaining behind. "I thought you would visit your Mum over hols, at least," she said, catching him on his way to class.
"She'll visit me here once I tell her, I'm sure," Draco replied with a shrug. "I have a pass for the Restricted Section, and some more research to do regarding Divination spells."
"You didn't find that spell here, though," Ginny said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "What can you hope to find in the library?"
"There has to be some way to keep you safe without making you stay in the castle all the time," Draco replied with a shrug. "I'll find it if I look hard enough."
"I'll help you," Ginny decided. She jogged back to the bulletin board outside the Great Hall and left her name there as well. "This should make the research go faster."
Narcissa sent Draco a howler, but he opened it inside an empty classroom in the dungeons. He sat there calmly while she screamed, knowing she didn't really understand what he was trying to do. This was to save the Malfoy name, not a bout of selfishness. He knew he would see her at the school over hols, and maybe would be able to explain it then.
But the visions returned. Ginny was standing outside Hogwarts in the rain, looking as though she was waiting for someone along the path to Hogsmeade. It was growing dark, the shadows long across the path. Her hair was plastered to her face, and yet still she kept looking along the path toward Hogsmeade. Out of the shadows came a figure swathed in black from head to toe, a hooded heavy cloak further obscuring features. Thick black gloves closed over Ginny's throat. She struggled, but couldn't find any purchase. Her fingers slid across the drenched cloak, scrabbling along the arms behind her to try and pinch something hard enough to get her attacker to let go. But the attacker didn't let go until long after Ginny went limp, and tossed her aside into a puddle of muddy water alongside the path. If she wasn't dead of strangulation, she would die of drowning. The figure deliberately placed the Malfoy crested pin into Ginny's clenched fist, making it seem as though she had pulled it off of Draco's cloak.
She wasn't safe, even on Hogwarts grounds. The knowledge was chilling.
Theodore Nott was another of the Slytherins staying behind over hols. His father was in Azkaban and his mother had died when he was six. There was no reason to return home, and he could read his massive tomes in the Slytherin common room or library as well as Nott Manor. He was there when Narcissa Malfoy arrived to visit Draco, and he dutifully escorted her to the library. Draco was spending all of his time there, most of it beside Ginny Weasley. She was pretty enough, and pureblooded, but Theodore could tell that Narcissa was far from pleased. Even if she didn't look like the Narcissa he remembered from society balls, she still commanded respect. Her hair was loose and graying, her robes tattered at the edges and hanging off of her frame in an unflattering way. She clutched a black velvet cloak around her, the Malfoy crest at her throat. Her face was devoid of any makeup, though she still looked somewhat young for her age. "I'll head back to the common room, Mrs. Malfoy," Theodore told her with a shallow bow. "Is there anything else you require before I go?"
She smiled at him faintly, tapping his arm. "No need, young Nott. My son will escort me back." Her voice carried an edge to it along with the dismissal.
Draco was sitting at a table near the Restricted Section, piles of books all around him. Ginny Weasley was beside him, poring over whatever he had written on parchment, another stack of books in front of her. Narcissa's lips thinned as she contemplated her son. He had been everything to her, even before the loss of her husband. Bella was dead, Andromeda was as good as dead, Lucius was in Azkaban and now her son was enamored with a Weasley.
Narcissa cleared her throat, and Draco looked up. He blanched at the sight of his mother, how very ordinary she looked, how her hair seemed to hang in stringy knots around her face. "Mother!"
"You weren't in the common room when you said you would be," she accused.
Draco pulled a face and turned to Ginny. "I've got to go..."
"I'll finish the research project," Ginny said, nodding. She watched Draco leap to his feet and approach his mother carefully. Whatever he said must have mollified her, because she didn't look quite so angry with him. She took his arm, leaning on it heavily, and they left the library together.
Ginny remembered seeing Narcissa Malfoy at events prior to the war. She had always seemed to be elegant and calm, almost regal in her bearing. The war had broken her. Ginny could absolutely understand why Draco would go to any length to save his family.
"You're leaving me behind," Narcissa said once they were alone in the hallway, her voice low and pained. "After all we've been through together..."
"No, Mother," Draco protested, squeezing her hand tightly. "I'm doing this for you. I can figure this out, I know I can. You've always said I was clever. If I'm clever enough, I'll learn why she's so important to our family, why she's the one that helps us."
"You haven't figured it out yet?" Narcissa asked, head tilted slightly. "That's not like you."
"No, it's not," Draco replied, frustration coloring his tone. "I don't know why this is so difficult. Every time I think I have it figured out, I get another vision. I keep trying to change things, to save her. And every time I fail."
Narcissa's grip on his hand was almost painful. "No, my son. I know you're not a failure. You're a clever young man, the future for the Malfoy and Black houses. Never think you're a failure."
Draco smiled at his mother. "Thank you, Mother."
"You just needed a reminder," Narcissa murmured absently. "You've been forgetting yourself. But I'm here, now. I'll help you remember."
The vision slammed into Draco with such ferocity that he fell to his knees in the common room and looked like he was having a seizure.
Ginny was walking toward Hogsmeade, wrapped up in a coat and scarf and dressed more like a Muggle than a witch. She had her shoulders hunched against the cold rain beginning to fall, looking down at the path to be sure she wouldn't slip. The temperature hovered just above freezing, but there was still snow and ice along the hilly path, and she didn't want to slip and roll down the way to Hogsmeade.
The cloaked figure in black swooped down out of the shadows out of the trees. The figure had been following her, had been looking for an opportune time when she would be alone. The hands wrapped tightly around her throat, shaking her as she thrashed about looking for purchase to throw off her attacker. But her feet slipped out from under her, and her hands were inside of large woolen mittens and couldn't catch hold of anything.
The Malfoy pin winked at Draco in the fading light, Ginny's dead eyes dim and hollow.
Draco came to in Narcissa's lap by the fire in the Slytherin common room. She was stroking his hair, murmuring something under her breath, something about how he was her only son, her only child, and had to be protected from himself. "Mum," he rasped.
She looked down, her blue eyes looking almost crazed. "You looked half dead."
He sighed and pushed himself up to sitting. "I'm fine, Mum. Mother. Please, I'm fine." He took her hands in his. "I'll figure this out, I told you. I'll fix this, and I'll make it better for us. I'm clever enough, I'm just overlooking something."
Narcissa cradled his face in her hands. "My son, my son. My only son. You work yourself too hard. Let go of this. Stop looking."
"I can't," Draco insisted stubbornly. "I have to do this. I can do this."
She knew the stubborn tilt of his chin, the way his lips pressed tightly together. It was the Black in him, the way he latched onto something and refused to let go. It was how she had lost Bella to the Dark Lord and Andromeda to a Muggle. And now she was losing her son to the task of saving his Malfoy heritage.
"You're going to kill yourself," Narcissa said, almost a whimper.
Draco hated seeing his mother look so lost, so weak. He kissed her cheek gently and tried to smooth her hair back into a semblance of order. "I'm going to make it right, somehow. I'll save her life, and our lives will be better for it."
She watched him head to the library with empty eyes.
The vision changed as he settled into his seat across from Ginny.
Ginny was looking over her shoulder, heading away from the castle and toward Hogsmeade. The way the pale light slanted over her features made Draco think it was late afternoon. She was being followed, being chased by someone. Someone had been following her all day, and she had thought that hands nearly closed over her shoulder as she was on her way back to Gryffindor Tower. So she had run from the castle, using a tunnel she had learned about from the twins, and she hadn't even stopped to grab a cloak.
But Ginny shook Draco out of the vision before it could be completed. He fixed his eyes on her face, mouth gaping open as he tried to breathe. "Following you," he gasped.
She sat down heavily next to him, looking over the piles of books all around them. "So all this reading we've been doing is for nothing."
He blinked; the vision that had started had been stopped in its tracks. "How did you do that?"
"Do what?"
"You stopped it. They usually run their course and I'm shaking after. You stopped it before it really started." He frowned at her. "How can you stop it?"
Ginny sighed and tentatively took his hand in hers. "Maybe because it's about me?"
He was rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb almost absently. He dropped her hand as soon as he realized it, almost flushing in embarrassment. He hadn't meant to do that, not really, not to imply that he had thoughts of her that way. But Ginny smiled at him ruefully, shaking her head. "What?" he asked irritably. She shouldn't laugh at him. He was doing all of this research for her, the silly girl.
"Why don't you just say why I'm so important to you?" she asked, voice soft. Her eyes raked over his face, settling on his mouth. "Just tell me why."
"There's nothing to say." Draco looked at her stubbornly, but Ginny was grinning at him unrepentantly. "What?"
Ginny leaned forward and kissed him, the touch soft yet setting his nerves on edge. He meant to push her away. He did. But instead his hands curled around her shoulders and pulled her in closer, and his mouth opened to deepen the kiss. She responded, arms circling him as her tongue slid into his mouth. It shouldn't have made as much sense as it did, shouldn't have felt as good as it did. But he moved over her mouth as if he could devour her, as if he could keep her safe by sheer force of will.
Draco leaned against her when the kiss ended, not quite able to meet her gaze. "Oh."
She laughed softly, her fingers caught in the fastenings of his robe. "Outstanding."
Her fingers brushed along the pin on his robe, the Malfoy crest catching the faint light in the library. Draco stiffened, mouth falling open.
The world was tilting, spinning around, and all he could see was darkness around him. They were being followed, they were being hunted. Someone wanted to get their hands around Ginny's neck, wanted to squeeze the very life out of her. The rage was choking him.
"What is it?" Ginny asked, concerned, shaking him.
Draco fetched up against the floor, but he could feel his body jerk as the vision rolled through him. He couldn't stop it from happening. "Following you," he gasped, seeing her red hair swim into his tunnel vision. "Following us."
"So they want to kill both of us now?" she asked, eyes wide as saucers. Draco could only nod, his back arching up as his muscles tightened. In his vision, they were running, running, running, and he could hear the distant sound of heels on stone as they were being followed. "But why?"
"Don't know," he gasped, trying to straighten his limbs and sit up. The vision was shifting even as he tried to pin it down to look at it. He saw the library stacks now, the tall shelves on either side of the attacker, the table they were crouched behind. "Here," he cried, grasping hold of Ginny's shoulders painfully.
Draco could feel the murderous intent. Rage.
"Draco, can you run?" she asked, insistent.
The world was tilting, crashing down around him. He could see the table as he tried to use it to pull himself up, and he could see himself from the attacker's point of view. He turned his head toward the shadowy stacks, tried to peer into them to see who might be there. He was looking at himself in the vision, his face drawn and pale, terror etched into his features. And Ginny was at his side, her hair a messy red halo around her own pale face. She was scared, but there was more concern for Draco than for herself.
She cared, she had feelings, and dear Merlin, she was going to die. He couldn't let that happen.
"Can you run?" Ginny whispered, trying to peer into the shadows where he was looking at.
He was trembling in her arms; the vision making things confusing for him. It seemed to hang steady for an impossible moment, as if the future was still waiting to be made.
"I can run," he whispered, staring into the darkness and into his own determined face.
"Then come with me if you want to live," Ginny said, taking his hand tightly in hers. "I can get us out of here."
And then the vision came crashing down around him again, the world tilting beneath him as he began to run after Ginny.
They were fast, but so was their pursuer. Draco stumbled after her, not knowing what hallways they were heading through, not recognizing anything. He saw things superimposed over each other, the hallway they were running through as well as the hallway they had just passed that the attacker was using. He was dizzy, panting, his chest tight and his heart feeling as though it would burst at any moment.
Ginny had to survive. That was the important thing. She had to live.
They plunged into darkness of a tunnel, and Draco wanted to scream. No, no, not here, not here, not this!
But they were running through a tunnel, heading out of Hogwarts. He could hear the sound of heels on stone, and then even that was gone as their pursuer entered the tunnel as well. Ginny's panic was controlled; she could get them out of Hogwarts and to safety in Hogsmeade if only they were fast enough. Hogwarts was nearly deserted over hols, but the village was bustling and full of people. They would be safe there, surely.
Draco could see himself stunned in the back, could see himself being tossed down the path toward the village. He could see himself strung up by his robes from a tree, left dangling and unable to free himself in time to save Ginny from strangulation. He kept running, kept going faster, kept praying to Merlin that he could do something different.
"Hurry," Ginny panted as she slipped through the tunnel and out into the field between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. "I'll go left, you go right. We'll meet at the village, at the Broomsticks. We'll get help once we're there. Just follow the path, it'll lead right to the village. He can't follow us both at once," she gasped.
No, he wanted to say. No, Ginny was the main target. Draco was incidental. Ginny was the one that their pursuer really wanted to kill. The rage was directed at her.
She zigged left from the opening, letting go of Draco's hand. He doggedly chased after her, ignoring her hisses to go right. He had to keep her alive somehow. He had to save her. She was the one that was meant to live, she was the one that had to survive this. He reached into his robes to try and fling a spell behind them, but he had dropped it somewhere along the way. He couldn't find it, couldn't do anything but run. Ginny had her wand out and was throwing hexes behind her erratically, her aim terrible as she ran. Not a single one slowed down their pursuer.
Draco stumbled, and Ginny pulled ahead. She half turned, slowing down. It looked as though she might double back to help him up. "Run!" he shouted at her. "Forget me, just run!"
He turned toward the attacker rushing along the path and launched himself at the figure without even thinking twice about it. He was dizzy, his vision a tangle of black and the fine, misty rain that was starting to fall. He heard the crash of a fireworks spell nearby, but he couldn't tell where Ginny was. He couldn't see her, couldn't hear her. All he could see was the black cloak of the attacker that he was tangled in, and he could feel the smooth leather of the black gloves pushing at his face. Draco flailed at the hands, pushing forward into the attacker's body.
They rolled down along the path to Hogsmeade. The next thing he knew, he was locked in place, the heel of his hand pushing up on the attacker's chin. It was a woman that wanted Ginny dead, a woman that he was trying to disentangle himself from.
They were both immobilized, and hands roughly pulled them apart. He could see Ginny standing there, her wild red hair plastered to her skull. McGonagall and Professor Vector were standing there, wands drawn. Filch had the attacker, and pulled the hood down from her head.
Narcissa Malfoy stared back at them, her face frozen in a mask of fury.
Released from the spell cast on him, Draco fell to his knees in the mud. "Mother? But..."
He stared after her as Ginny knelt beside him. She was snarling, struggling in Filch's grasp. "Let go of her!" Narcissa screeched. "Don't sully your blood! I'll keep you safe, I'll make sure you'll stay safe! Toujours pur!"
Filch seemed to almost enjoy manhandling her as they made their way back to the castle. He was shivering, not sure what was happening. Ginny slid her arm around his shoulders. "I'm sorry," she murmured, pressing her head against his. She didn't care that she was getting muddy as well, that they were kneeling in the rain together.
Draco held onto her tightly, his eyes drifting closed. The vision was gone, and he only saw one reality now. "Why are you apologizing? She was going to kill you."
"She's still your mum," Ginny murmured. She brushed her lips against a clean spot on his temple. "Come on. Let's go inside and get cleaned up."
He held onto her tightly. It didn't feel like the world was tilting, not quite, not like before. But if his mother had wanted to kill her, if his father was in Azkaban, what was there to live for? What was the point in trying to save his family?
Ginny threaded her fingers through his, then moved her lips to cover his in a gentle kiss.
Oh.
He kissed her back fiercely, tangling his hands in her hair and holding onto her for dear life. She had been the only constant in his life over the past few months, the only thing that seemed to make sense.
Now he knew. Now he understood. She was meant to live for him.
They trudged back to the castle together. Whatever else the future had in mind, Draco knew that he didn't have to face it alone.
The End.
Eustacia Vye is the author of 37 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 6 members. Members who liked Meant To Live also liked 1231 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 6 members. Members who liked Meant To Live also liked 1231 other stories.
Leave a Review