Moonlight on Malfoy Manor

Chapter 5 - a snitch in a heart; Catch!; "Father dies"; lakeside confessions.

As his hand reached out to grab the fluttering snitch, Draco felt a blinding jolt of pain rack his entire body. His hand closed around the snitch - Slytherin had won - and in that moment everything faded for Draco, as he started to fall. He was falling, spiraling, losing control, it was taking him forever - and then he hit the ground with a sickening thud.

Draco opened his eyes and stood up slowly. He looked around for his team-mates but saw none. The world around him was in a haze. The sky, a brilliant orange - it had been blue when he had started to fall. How long had he been unconscious, he wondered. He gingerly took a step forward - into nothingness - and amazingly there was no pain. Draco turned his head to look around and saw nothing. It was not as though the dusty haze blocked his view. It was just that there was nothing to see - no Hogwarts, no Quidditch Pitch, no lake, no trees, no people. Just dust. For a moment Draco thought he had died. But his sense of freedom from life and exhaustion did not last long, for as he was about to take yet another step into oblivion, he realized that he was clutching something in his right hand. Draco raised his fist to see what it held. He uncurled his fingers from around the soft, object in his palm. For an infinitesimal second, Draco looked at the still beating heart lying in his palm, bound by a gold chain with a crystal pendent, and then he screamed.

Draco woke up startled, screams ringing in his ears. As comprehension dawned he realized they were his own. He looked down at his hands relief surging through him as he realized it had been a dream.

"You're awake." It was not a question, but a simple statement. Draco bit back the sarcastic rejoinder as he recognized the voice. Darius Malfoy, his father's cousin, stood near one of the windows of the infirmary, his grey hair glinting in the moonlight. As he walked towards him, Draco watched the glamour charm dissolve and the grey hair become silver-blonde, the blue eyes become grey. Lying on his bed, Draco thought he saw a look of concern dawn on his father's face and then disappear just as soon as it had come.

"What happened?" Draco asked, his body aching in parts he did not even know he had.

"Strange," Lucius drawled, "I was just about to ask you the same thing. What happened?"

Draco looked at his father, a look of annoyance and distaste. "I fell from my broom," he answered shortly.

"But why?" Lucius asked, obviously expecting some form of explanation. Draco wondered if he should tell his father about the nightmares but then decided against it. Understanding and sympathy were two words Draco knew his father did not know existed. They had been replaced long ago by the words 'Malfoy' and 'Malfoyness' - the innate sense of what a Malfoy must be.

"I lost control of the broom," Draco replied half truthfully. Lucius looked at his son, pondering on his words.

"Some day, you will make a great leader, Draco. No one may accuse you of lying, but you and I both know that that was not the whole truth." Draco stared up at his father, grey met grey as Lucius sat down on a chair opposite the bed.

"It is time to tell you the whole truth," he said.

* * *

Narcissa's screams echoed through the halls of Malfoy Manor. Lucius sat in his library awaiting the news, the moment his entire life had been leading up to. As he sat debating on whether or not to go up to his wife's room, Anton floated in through the door of the library.

"You have a son, Master."

Lucius looked up from the book on the table with a thin smile and whispered, "Draco."

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It had been a week since the fateful Ravenclaw versus Slytherin match. Draco had returned to his normal routine the very next day, a fact for which Ginny had been grateful. Although the damage had been minimal, the accident had been quite dramatic. Ginny had watched frozen as Draco, snitch in hand, slid off his broom and plummeted a good twenty feet to the ground. It had been a horrific moment, the likes of which Ginny fervently hoped she would never have to see again. But the accident had long been displaced as the topic of interest. Now everyone was preparing for the Christmas Ball.

"The Ball is going to be at Christmas? Wicked!" Ron had exclaimed when he had seen the notice.

"Well, at least you don't have to worry about a date this time." Harry had commented.

Ron's face had immediately clouded over. "Right!" he had mumbled and wandered off.

"Oi Ron," Seamus had yelled across the Common Room. Ron had turned to him, where upon Seamus had jumped up onto a sofa and clasped his hands imploringly, "will you go to the Ball with me?"

The Common Room had erupted into laughter as Ron merely pointed at the tower window, bid Seamus to jump out of it and turned back to a grinning Harry. All that had been a while ago. Since the day the notice had come up Ron had been wandering around with a preoccupied air.

"Ron! Watch it!!" Harry squealed as Ron almost sat down on top of him.

"Oh, sorry Harry. Didn't see you there?"

"What, have I suddenly shrunk, or is it hard to see from all the way up there?" Harry retorted. "Honestly what is wrong with you?" Harry demanded, Ron's behavior having really started to irk him.

"Well?" Harry folded his arms across his chest and glowered at Ron.

"Well what?" Ron asked confused.

"Talking to a brick wall is more productive. What's on your mind Ron? Spit it out. Now!"

Ron peered around nervously as he inched closer to Harry. Staring into the fire he said, "I've been trying to get up enough courage to ask Hermione to go to the Ball with me," he confessed to the flames. Harry's mouth fell open in surprise.

"What? Why?"

Ron turned to him slightly flustered, "Coz the last time I waited around she went off with someone else didn't she?"

"Yeah, but Ron," Harry resumed gently, "she's your girlfriend now. Its understood she'll go with you."

"What if she doesn't though? What if I find out on the day of the Ball that she's going with someone else?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "Ron, you are being unbelievable stupid and you know it." Ron glared at him.

"Fine, ask her then," Harry gave in but Ron's brow clouded.

"What if she says no?" he whispered. Harry slapped his forehead with his open palm in sheer frustration.

"Look you troll, she won't say no. Get that through your skull will you?"

Ron scowled, "Easy for you to say!"

Harry fought down the desire to give his best friend a nice hard shake and a couple of slaps for good measure.

"Fine. Mope around playing Misery Boy, in which case she definitely will go with someone else and who could blame her," Harry snapped, but he softened when he saw his friend's crestfallen face.

"Look just ask her. She won't say no, I promise. Think of Nike and just do it."

"Huh! Think of who?"

"Never mind."

So when Hermione climbed through the portrait hole half an hour later, she was accosted and escorted to a marginally secluded window ledge by a very nervous Ronald Weasley. Harry watched, amused, as Ron shuffled his feet, tucked his hands in his pockets, turned several shades of pink before finally settling on a bright shade of magenta, and finally he saw Hermione break into a brilliant smile and throw her arms around his neck. Harry smiled with relief.

But Neville, who was staring into the fire, still looked woe- be-gone. He did not think he would go to the Christmas Ball. The last time he had gone with Ginny, but this year Ginny would not want to go with him - no girl would. And truthfully Neville could not blame them. He doubted he would go with himself. He was a bumbling oaf and he knew it. Anyone he danced with was in severe danger of permanent foot damage. No, Neville did not think he would be going to the Ball this year.

"So Nev," Lavender flopped down on the sofa beside him - Neville refused to look at her; he had long thought Lavender the prettiest girl in the school, but every time he looked at her, his tongue seemed to freeze, "who are you going to the Ball with?"

"No one," Neville replied, still gazing rigidly into the fire.

"Why not? Someone turned you down?"

"No."

"Not got up the nerve to ask yet?"

"No."

"What then?"

"There is no one to ask. Who would want to go with me?"

"I would."

Neville broke his resolve and whipped his head around to stare at Lavender. "You would?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"Of course, I would," Lavender smiled at him. For Neville the room seemed much brighter all of a sudden.

"Why?" he croaked. Lavender laughed, leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

"Just because. Now we need to decide what we're going to wear."

"Don't worry too much, I look much the same in everything," Neville replied easily, still floating somewhere near the ceiling.

"Nonsense, we'll find something which will make you look positively dashing," she smiled again and this time Neville smiled back.

Dean was sitting in a corner of the Common Room brooding. He had a parchment and quill propped on his knee. He chewed his quill thoughtfully as he tried to figure out the best way to ask Parvati to the Ball. Dean was nothing if not methodical, particularly when it came to women. He had planned to jot down all the smooth approaches and brilliant lines he could think of and then memorize them. So far he had a half bitten quill and a parchment full of crossed out lines.

"Dean Thomas" called a loud authoritative voice.

"Yeah?" Dean called back as Parvati's head turned towards the sound of his voice.

"Ah, there you are," she cried with satisfaction. Dean watched as she weaved her way through pouffes, tables, chairs and sundry Gryffindors till she finally stood in front of him.

"Something up?" he enquired.

"Yeah, I needed to ask you something."

"Okay," Dean looked curious.

"Nothing big, just wondered if you'd like to go to the Ball with me?" Parvati asked with a bright smile.

Dean swallowed and opened his mouth - no sound. He tried again, this time he managed a hoarse, "Okay."

"Good," Parvati gave him a mega-watt smile and swept up the stairs to the girls room. Dean stood motionless for a moment, and then he crumpled up his parchment and lobbed it expertly into the fire over Neville and Lavender's heads, a large goofy grin on his face.

Ginny entered the common room, smiling at the air of confused gaiety that prevailed. She had not been asked to the Ball by anyone yet, but Colin, the faithful squealer had told Ashley that Gareth was planning on asking her out. Gareth had not broached the topic of going steady with her again and Ginny was thankful for that. As she stood just inside the portrait hole, she heard it open and saw Gareth enter. She smiled at him as he looked at her.

"Ginny, uh...can I talk to you for a moment? I was looking for you in the library but Ashley said you'd come back."

"Sure," Ginny replied. Gareth walked her to the secluded window ledge that had been vacated by Ron and Hermione moments before.

"This is for you," Gareth said enigmatically as he handed her a roll of parchment tied with a pink ribbon. "I'll meet you outside the common room," he said before walking towards the portrait hole.

Ginny opened the role of parchment and as she read it, her breath caught in her throat...

They say there will be a grand ball,

With fun laughter and good cheer for all.

Crackers, streamers rum punch and cake,

Music and dancing by the glittering Lake.

A magical night for all to see,

With fairy lights and a Christmas tree.

Around the tree is a crimson bow,

With wishes and presents and of course mistletoe.

But what good is mistletoe without you to kiss?

If you turn me down this Ball I shall miss.

So I ask with fervent wish and humble plea...

Virginia, will you go to the Ball with me?

Ginny stood dumbstruck for several seconds, before she quickly walked to the portrait hole and stepped outside where she found Gareth leaning against the wall, his hands in his pockets. He straightened as he saw her walk towards him.

"Yes," she whispered as she reached him and stood on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek.

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A few nights later, Draco sat at the Slytherin table picking at his dinner. The throbbing in his head had become a permanent feature of his existence, ever since his father had visited him in the infirmary. His arm was fine - Madam Pomfrey had fixed it in no time. He wished the same could be said about his life. Draco looked up from his dinner and looked around the Hall at the laughing content faces. Did any of these people know what it felt like to carry a burden day in and day out without breaking down? None of them, he thought bitterly. Well, maybe Potter. He was after all the boy with the 'destiny'. Draco turned to look at Harry, and in doing so knocked over his goblet of pumpkin juice to the floor.

Disgusted with this public display of his carelessness, Draco bent down to pick up the blet. As soon as his fingers closed around it, Draco felt as though a hook just behind his navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forwards. His feet had left the ground; he was speeding forwards in a howl of wind and swirling color. His hand was stuck to the goblet as though it was pulling him magnetically onwards through time and space.

'A portkey?' Draco wondered. And then just as suddenly as they had left it, his feel touched solid ground. Draco looked around and found himself outside his father's study in Malfoy Manor. Before he could gather his sensed, the goblet he had been unconsciously clutching disappeared. As Draco stood outside the door, his hand poised on the knob, he heard voices from within. One was his father's -

"But the boy needn't die, Master."

"Ah! Lucius. Do I detect weakness in you? Can it be that despite my warnings you have let yourself become susceptible to emotion?"

"No Master. I feel nothing fro him. I have always been and will always be loyal to you. If I desire that the boy live, it is only to spare you the agony of the ceremony."

"You underestimate me Lucius. You dare underestimate the powers of Lord Voldemort!"

"Not so, My Lord. You have the power to trap eternity in a second, if I may say so. I only think of the drain it shall be on your powers if you seek to perform the ceremony. There is, after all, no need for it - the boy will do as he is told."

"You underestimate the boy's will Lucius. He has, even before this, proven himself to be stubborn. He may do so yet again. But this time, Lord Voldemort is ready. This time I shall conquer."

As his father spoke yet again, Draco detected a faint note of desperation in his voice and Draco wondered if Lucius Malfoy could indeed care for another human being apart from himself.

"But Master, he can be controlled, and his powers may yet grow making him indispensable in the future. The transfer of power will only serve to restrict its natural growth. I recommend yet again that the boy be allowed to live." But Lord Voldemort appeared to have lost his patience with Lucius' entreaties.

"LUCIUS!" he roared. "Do you dare defy me repeatedly? Have you forgotten that my word is law? Have you forgotten that I am the law?" and then more calmly he continued, "You have disappointed me Lucius. You, whom I trusted above all others, have betrayed me. Perhaps a little reminder of what happens to those who betray Lord Voldemort will not be amiss."

This time Draco heard fear in his father's voice, as Lucius screamed, "NO, MASTER!"

Draco quickly turned the knob and entered the study, just in time to see Lucius hit the wall behind him in a blast of blue light. The occupants of the room seemed not to have noticed his sudden entry. Draco watched horrified as Lord Voldemort sat in the chair facing Lucius and with a flick of his wand had him up against the wall with his arms spread out on either side.

"Pain, Lucius, is a very powerful weapon, especially the ability to induce it. A demonstration. Incisio."

Draco stifled a scream as blood oozed from long gashes, which appeared on Lucius' forearms. Powerless to do anything Draco watched as the blood trickled down to the floor in the wake of Lord Voldemort's high-pitched laughter.

"It has been long, too long, since I enjoyed pain." Draco clenched his fists, as Voldemort went on -

"Engorgio," he said, "a personal favorite of mine. You might remember my using it on Rosenberg and Buckley, Lucius. Do let me know when you can't contain your compassionate heart within your chest anymore. It must have grown to about twice its normal size by now. Does it hurt yet, Lucius?" Voldemort asked in a soft voice, his eyes narrowed down to snake like slits. Draco watched as beads of perspiration dotted his father's forehead and trickled down his cheeks. If Draco hadn't known better he would have thought they were tears.

"The pain must become unbearable right about now - " Lucius' scream rang out through the halls of Malfoy Manor as his heart burst within his chest and his lifeblood spurted out of his mouth. Draco flinched as some of Lucius' blood spattered on his face and clothes. He raised a hand to wipe the blood on his face, only there wasn't any.

Voldemort sat in his chair, calmly looking at the lifeless form of Lucius Malfoy still pinned to the wall.

"You make an admirable Christ, Lucius. I personally never understood what my stupid Muggle father saw in the image of a man on a crucifix - until now. But the angle of the head is not quite right." Another flick of his wand and Lucius' head hung limply on his right shoulder.

"Goodbye, Lucius." And Voldemort was gone.

For a second that contained an eternity, Draco stared into his father's face, at his open grey eyes, blank and expressionless as the windows of a deserted house, at his half open mouth, which looked slightly surprised. Blood oozed from the corners of his vacant eyes and his open mouth and trickled down to what would have been his chest were it not for the gaping hole, which had resulted when his chest burst, unable to contain his enlarging heart. Already Lucius' lips were turning blue and the worms Voldemort had left behind in his wake were beginning to gnaw at his flesh. Draco fought down a wave of nausea as the stench of death and decay threatened to overcome him. He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to drive away the image of Lucius' half-eaten, desiccated body. When he opened his eyes, he found himself sitting at the Slytherin table eating his dinner.

Draco got up abruptly and left the Great Hall followed by Ginny's anxious gaze. He quickly made his way to the Slytherin Common Room. Once there he lit the fire with a flick of his wand and threw a fistful of green coloured powder in it.

"We need to talk."

****************************************

Draco needed to breathe. He almost ran across the entrance hall, dodging the students coming out after dinner. He reached the Great Door, yanked it open and stepped out. Ginny watched him leave out of the corner of her eyes as the door swung shut. She turned to follow him, when Ashley called out, "Where are you going Gin?"

"Damn!" Ginny swore under her breath. "I forgot my Transfiguration book in the Hall, I'll catch up."

Ashley and Elizabeth continued up the stairs. Ginny waited till they turned at the bend and then followed Draco out of the hall. She gasped as the cold December air hit her. Pulling her robes tighter around her she looked for Draco finally spotting him walking briskly towards the Lake.

Draco could not believe how pig-headed Malfoy men could be. Was he that bad? He hoped not. Lucius' words still rang in his ears -

"Don't be ridiculous, Draco. Why would the Dark Lord wish me dead? And even if he did, I would not run. Malfoy's do not run."

'Malfoys, Malfoys, Malfoys... was there anything Malfoys didn't do.' Draco thought disgustedly as he stood at the edge of the Lake and contemplated its frozen surface.

"Contemplating suicide, Malfoy? It's really no point. Even if you do manage to break through the ice with that thick head or yours, the squid will save you."

"Ha-ha, Weasley. Now bugger off."

"That's not very nice," Ginny said through chattering teeth. Draco whirled around, his eyes glittering.

"I'm not a nice person Weasley. In case you hadn't noticed."

"That's what I had thought, till last term," Ginny said as she took a step towards him, "but you've been different this term. Even Harry's noticed that. What's wrong Malfoy?" Ginny reached out a hand to touch him, but he stepped away from her and went back to contemplating the Lake.

"Like you care?"

"Contrary to popular opinion, I do. What's wrong Malfoy? I know something is."

"Now how exactly would you know that, Weasley?" he remarked drily.

"You've been behind in your homework, you've been turning up late for class, you look ill, Snape actually sent you to Madam Pomfrey because you looked so dazed in Potions."

Draco turned and regarded her curiously, "How the hell do you know all this Virginia?"

"Harry and Hermione," Ginny stated matter of factly.

"I'm flattered they noticed," he said as he turned away again. Ginny pulled her robes closer in a futile attempt to get warm.

"Draco Malfoy, stop being so pig-headed and tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing is wrong. I am fine," Draco stated through clenched teeth.

"Liar!"

Draco whipped around and glared at her - this was usually enough to quail most people, but Ginny was made of sterner stuff and she glared right back at him. Draco sighed and finally said tiredly, "You don't want to get tangled in my life, Ginny."

"Don't tell me what I want. Besides its too late for that."

"It's nothing good," he cautioned.

Ginny looked him up and down, "I guessed as much."

Draco stared into brown eyes and asked, "Do you really want to know?"

Ginny stepped up to him and took his hand, "Yes, I really want to know."

He was silent for a moment and then stated simply, "I'm a Seer."

Draco slumped down on the rock behind him, feeling like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Ginny looked at him blankly. 'So?' would be rather anticlimactic at this point, not to mention rude, so she settled for -

"Oh." she sat dow on the rock beside him, unconsciously leaning into his warmth.

"Virginia Weasley!" Draco admonished while unclasping his cloak, "Apparently, I'm not the only one with suicidal tendencies. What were you trying to do, freeze yourself to death?" he asked exasperatedly as he swung half the cloak and an arm around Ginny's freezing shoulders. He pulled her close and began chaffing her upper arm. Ginny rested her head on his shoulder and relished the warmth that seeped through her. She wrapped an arm around his waist under the cloak and snuggled closer. Draco was far from objecting.

"Wasn't Merlin a Seer?" she asked after a few moments.

"I don't know. All I know is what my father told me in the infirmary the day I fell off my broom during the match against Ravenclaw."

"What did he say?"

"That I can see the future at will. Unlike other seers who get random premonitions, or need to be in contact with the subject of the premonition, I can see exactly what will happen whenever I want to."

"Wow!"

"So they say. Up until now all it's given me is horrific nightmares, sleepless nights and searing headaches. That was before my father unbound my powers. Since then, it has had the effect of making all and sundry think I am a raving lunatic." Ginny tilted her head slightly, which enabled her to look at Draco's moonlit profile. Sitting there he looked like a demi-god, Atlas bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders. She saw the fine lines that bore testimony to his nightmares and headaches, the tense furrow across his brow.

"Dr..." she began in a whispered voice.

"My great - great - grandfather was a Seer." Ginny waited for him to continue.

"My mother's side of the family had gifted Seers. The last one was my great - great - grandfather who lived almost a century ago. He had premonitions, but only of evil. He was regarded the most powerful Seer ever in the family, until now. According to my father my powers surpass even his. I can see the future regardless of good or evil, not even premonitions, I can see exactly what will happen at will." Draco sounded slightly awed. It was the first time he had explained any of this to anyone and it really was the first time that he was realizing the extent of his powers. Up until now he had only dealt with the consequences of those powers, the nightmares, the headaches, the irritation caused by sleeplessness. Now he began to contemplate what wielding his powers would be like. He looked at the twinkling lights of the castle. He went on after a while, "When I was born, my father confirmed that I was a Seer and bound my powers. He planned to release the bind after I had left school and become a Death Eater. Fortunately or unfortunately, the bind wasn't strong enough and my powers began to manifest themselves in bizarre ways even before I came to school."

"Manifest themselves?" Ginny queried confusedly.

"Nightmares."

"What kind of nightmares?"

"I saw Hogwarts burning, Potter hanging dead in a musty classroom, my father torturing me, my father being tortured to death by the Dark Lord." Ginny moved away a few inches and looked at him with wide eyes full of shock.

"You saw Hogwarts burning? Harry dead? Yourself being tortured? Your father being killed by the Dark Lord??" Her voice rose steadily with each question till the last was a high-pitched shriek. "You said you could see both good and evil. Where's the good in all that?"

Draco looked thoughtful, "Well, my powers were under a very strong bind at the time, and they have been suppressed for a long time. I think my worst thoughts were being exaggerated into very horrific and very realistic, vision-like dreams. I think."

"So, these visions that you've seen - are they all going to be true? Will they actually happen?" Ginny asked doubtfully. Draco looked at her face, the moonlight bouncing off her sharp features, making her freckles even more prominent.

He pulled her in towards him and said, "No Ginny. All of them will not come true." Ginny felt as though he was saying that more to reassure himself than her. She put her head back on his shoulder.

"I hope so, Malfoy. I hope so."

Draco had heard of comfortable silences, but he had never experienced one before in his life. Sitting there looking out at the frozen Lake with Ginny snuggled against him Draco began to feel that life couldn't get anymore perfect. If one ignored the fact that he was a nearly insane Seer, whose father was about to die a horrible death that is. Then Ginny began to squirm, Draco stiffened his arms reflexively.

"What's therush?" he drawled, turning his face into her hair and breathing deeply. "Its cold out there," he muttered. Ginny had been unwilling to break the moment but the prickling apprehension up and down her spine had finally become too strong to ignore. Visions of a Gryffindor search party, headed by Gareth and Ron, suddenly leaping out of the trees, accosted her imagination. In which event even Hermione would not be able to stop them from killing Draco first and bombarding her with questions later.

"I need to get back. They'll be wondering where I've gotten too."

"Let them wonder," Draco replied dismissively, now draping both his arms around her and pulling her flush against him. Ginny suddenly found herself nose to nose with a moonlit Draco Malfoy. She tried to pull back, but didn't get very far.

"If wonder was all they would do, I would let them. But Gareth will come looking for me and so will Ron." Draco went still.

"Gareth," he repeated. It wasn't a question, but Ginny felt bound to explain.

"He asked me to go steady with him," she stated matter-of-factly.

"You said no." Even as the words toppled out of his mouth, Draco knew he had just dropped an explosive hex. Ginny stiffened for a moment and then wrenched herself out of his embrace. Draco didn't stop her; instinct dictated that that would be a very bad idea. She stood before him absolutely livid.

"Just exactly why should I say no?" she demanded.

Draco shrugged, "He doesn't seem you type."

"And you would know what my type is?"

"I think I have a pretty fair idea." Draco was beginning to get angry. But he wasn't exactly sure why and he really couldn't care less at this point.

"Oh really, lets hear it then," Ginny's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Me." Ginny was thrown for a moment, but only for a moment as anger came flooding back with twice its former intensity.

"You are not my type Draco Malfoy." This was a blatant lie, but it felt good to say it anyway.

"I think you are confusing me with another redhead, one who goes by the name of Blaise 'Girlfriend-of-Malfoy' Zabini." Draco was silent.

"Well?" Ginny taunted, "What about Blaise?" Draco shrugged dismissively.

"What about Blaise?" he repeated with studied calm. Ginny snapped.

"You arrogant, selfish, inconsiderate bastard," she spat. "Not only is your life screwed but you are messing mine up as well. Just who do you think you are? And what are you playing at? What am I? Just some toy you kiss and kick at random? Am I not supposed to have a life just because the great Draco Malfoy has developed a sick fancy for me? I deserve better than that, anyone deserves better than that. I have had it with you and your twisted mind games. Go find someone else to play with because if you come near me again, I'll hex you to the other side of the universe. I may not be able to kill you, but I know enough spells to turn you into the slime you are," Ginny stopped, out of breath. Draco had not moved or said a word during her whole tirade. He merely sat leaning back on his hands, a blank expression on his face. He rose gracefully to his feet, back straight,

"Goodnight, Virginia," he said stiffly before he turned his back on her and stood once more contemplating the frozen surface of the Lake. Ginny had a mad desire to push him into the Lake. But that would be undignified not to mention futile. Even if he broke the ice, she would panic and pull him out again. Instead she turned and ran back to the castle as fast as she could, hoping the exercise would drain the anger, the frustration and the hurt. She ran across the grounds up the stairs through the Great Doors, ran all the way to the Gryffindor portrait hole. She stood outside the Common Room out of breath and feeling miserable. She slumped against the corridor wall and slid to the floor. She sat there leaning against the wall gasping for breath till gasps turned to sobs and Ginny cried.

Draco stared with unseeing eyes at the surface of the frozen Lake. What was wrong with him? He had actually poured his heart out to a stupid little redheaded Gryffindor who the name of Weasley. He had told his deepest, darkest secret to a perfect stranger. Draco shook his head at the Lake in disbelief. He could not believe he had allowed himself to break like that. There was no telling what she would do with information like that. He had even told her about the Dark Lord.

"Pathetic, blithering idiot," he muttered as he rubbed his hand over his eyes.

"Why don't you just curse yourself dead and get it over with?" he said aloud to the Lake. He pressed his face into his hands and groaned. He was talking to himself - never a good sign. He slowly raised his head. Well, what was done was done. He would deal with the consequences when and if they arose. A small part of his brain said that Ginny would never do anything to hurt him no matter how angry she was. A larger part of his brain mocked this naïve notion. 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,' it stated maliciously. Abruptly Draco turned on his heels and strode back to the castle. There was no point dwelling on this now, he decided, as he headed for the Slytherin Common Room, in search of distraction.

****************************************

"Malfoys do not have moments of weakness," his father responded. Draco knew it was pointless to argue and lowered his head to glare at his drink instead. After three drinks he was decidedly tipsy, but he wasn't drunk yet. And drunk was exactly what Draco wanted to be. Dead drunk! The kind when you don't know what you are feeling or doing and don't care until the morning of course. It was a brief respite but at that point Draco was more than willing to settle for that. A few well placed galleons and a sob story about work pressure had earned him a bottle of Old Fire Whiskey against Madam Rosemerta's better judgment. But Draco could charm his way through most things if he actually wanted to. Having told Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise to get lost (in a more diplomatic way of course) Draco now sat at a corner table of the Three Broomsticks glaring as his drink as if it was responsible for all the ills of the universe. He looked up at his father; Lucius' image flickered and as it was replaced by Narcissa, a lump suddenly appeared his throat and Draco swallowed.

"It's alright dear, but don't let it happen again. There are people who are just waiting for your guard to be down. You can't trust anyone Draco, you must realize that. The danger is very real, even within Hogwarts." Narcissa flickered and was replaced by Ginny, a Ginny with a cruel thin-lipped smile and a malicious glint in her eye.

"So you're a Seer." Ginny regarded him with narrowed eyes. Draco looked back down at his drink.

"Leave it alone, Weasley."

"Why?"

"Because I'm asking you too," he said wearily.

"And you expect me to do what you ask?" Ginny raised a bemused eyebrow, "why?"

"Because I know you will," Draco smiled hopefully at her. Ginny leaned forward, eyes glittering.

"How the hell do you know that Malfoy?" she asked softly. "Just what the hell do you know about me anyway?"

"Nothing." Draco cursed himself, "Absolutely nothing." Ginny sat back and crossed her arms.

"Exactly," she replied, her voice low. "You know absolutely nothing about me. But you still poured your little heart out to me like a fool. Tell me something Malfoy, what would you do in my place. If I told you a deep, dark secret, what would you do?"

"Use it to my advantage," Draco answered as if he were reciting something he had learned by rote.

"And ten points to you," came Ginny's amused voice. "So give me one reason why I shouldn't do the same?"

"Because you're a better person," Draco looked up, eyes wide and dazed.

"I thought we had just established the fact that you know nothing whatever about me. Having problems with you short term memory Malfoy?" Draco sighed and rubbed his eyes. There was no point arguing with his hallucinations, they seemed to be holding all the cards at this point. He shouldn't have told Ginny, but he had.

"Deal with it and move on," he told himself sternly. He drained his glass and poured another one. He barely noticed the liquid burn down his throat.

"I always pictured you to be a social drinker," Ginny's voice was cheerful and she was smiling, a true smile, as she looked down at him.

"To quote your eloquent words, what the hell do you know about me anyway?" Ginny's smile faded, Draco's speech as slightly slurred and his eyes were bloodshot and drooping.

"Malfoy, what's wrong?"

"Everything and nothing. Depends on which way you look at it."

"What do you mean?" Ginny sat down slowly and regarded Draco with large worried eyes. Draco was too drunk to notice or care. He gulped down his drink and poured himself another.

"Well, there's my perspective. I'm landed with a curse that is making me insane very, very slowly. I saw my father dead and am facing the grim prospect of being an orphan, a damnably rich orphan, but an orphan nonetheless." He drained another shot of whiskey. Ginny regarded the rapidly diminishing bottle that he was clutching protectively in his left hand.

"Then there is the other perspective," he continued, "where my father conveniently drops dead, leaves me millions and a bloody rare gift. Like I said, its all a matter of perspective," he concluded airily and drank some more.

"How much have you had to drink?" Ginny asked softly, kindly.

"Go away," Draco said it firmly, as if it were a spell.

"No," Ginny returned equally firmly.

"You are a damn persistent hallucination."

"Hallucination? I'm not a hallucination. I'm real. See." Ginny reached forward and clasped his hand. Draco drew back as though he had been burned. He blinked at her in surprise.

"In which case you really need to leave."

"Why?"

"Because my reputation is the only think I have left and being seen with you will tear it to shreds. So go away, Weasley."

"So your reputation is that important to you, is it?" Ginny was angry and hurt.

"Of course it is, you silly girl. I'm a Malfoy."

"Well, pardon me, but since when have you cared about what the world thinks?"

"Since the world became the only constant in my life." Ginny softened as a wave of sympathy washed over her.

"Tell me what's wrong, Malfoy. You know you can trust me."

"Are you mentally challenged or hard of hearing, Weasley?" Draco snapped. "Talking to you is what brought me here in the first place." Ginny felt like she had been slapped.

"I was just trying to help," she murmured dazed by his savage retort.

"First, I don't need your help. And second, you are not helping, you are just screwing around with my already fucked up life. Frankly I don't think I can survive anymore of you help." Ginny's eyes welled with tears, Draco saw this and felt grim satisfaction - at least he was no longer the only one hurting. "If you're looking for sympathy you won't find it here. Go to one of your world-saving Gryffindor mates and cry on their shoulder. I would offer you mine but this is a new jacket and salt water ruins suede." Ginny got up and fled sobbing as Draco drained another glass. He felt decidedly better.

'Why had she gone back? Why oh why, had she gone back to talk to him?' Ginny ran sobbing out of the Three Broomsticks all the way to the Shrieking Shack. She leaned against the fence gasping for breath, tears streaming down her face. She took a deep breath and wiped her face roughly with her sleeve.

'What was that? Who was that?' she wondered.

'That was Draco Malfoy.' The little voice in her head obligingly answered.

'Then who is the guy I've been snogging all this time? Who's the guy who talked to be down by the Lake?'

'Your guess is as good as mine.'

"Damn it all to hell," Ginny cursed aloud in fury.

'I warned you, I told you not to get involved with Draco Malfoy, but did you listen? I told you to stick with a nice bloke like Gareth but you...'

"SHUT UP!" Ginny commanded through gritted teeth and the voice in her head did just that. She crossed her arms leaning on the fence, her brows knitted. She needed to think. Now that the initial shock had worn off, Ginny realized that there was more going on than met the eye. All she wanted to do right now was give Draco Malfoy one good hard slap across his arrogant face. She was convinced that it would do him a world of good.