Broken

Chapter 6: Unsteady

            She hesitates outside the portrait hole. Should she really go in? What if he hurts her again? Stop being a coward. It’s breakfast time, he won’t even be there. Taking in a deep breath, she mutters, “Cornish pixies.”

The portrait swings back to allow her entrance. Now that she is inside, her fear is subsiding. She only has to stay for a few moments. She thinks back to earlier that morning. Draco had offered to let her stay with him, at least until they figured out what was wrong with Harry and reversed it. She makes her way to her bedroom. The mirror has been repaired, she suspects by Hermione. Anger rises within her, thinking of how Ron and Hermione had done nothing to help her in the Three Broomsticks. It just proved how alone she was. No, you still have Draco, a voice inside her says. But how much can I trust him? Her thoughts turn to last night’s conversation and waking up in his arms. It was the last thing she had expected. And then, he had smiled at her. A lazy, sleepy smile. Not one of his trademark smirks. Thinking about it had a funny effect on her, as if she had been spinning for a good while.

            She empties her chest into the bag Draco provided and sweeps the contents off of her vanity. She moves toward the door, but stops dead when she hears approaching footsteps. Panic overwhelms her as she thinks of her head being slammed repeatedly against a hard floor. Her fear grows into terror as he stands before her, his green eyes gleaming from behind his glasses. The corners of his mouth curve upward, but she can’t call it a smile. He seems eerily calm.

“Hello, Ginny.” His voice is flat, hollow. She feels a chill run down her spine. She fights to keep her composure.

“Hello, Harry.”

“I missed you last night,” he says, stepping closer to her. Instinctively, she takes a step back.

“Oh, I . . .” She bites her lip, not sure what to say. She doesn’t want to give him a reason to hurt her.

“It was so rude of Draco to whisk you away like that. You look beautiful when you’re sleeping, did you know that?”

She shakes her head slightly, causing a flash of pain to jolt through her. She winces, her hand going to the back of her head.

His eyes soften. “I hurt you didn’t I?”

She nods almost imperceptibly.

“I’m sorry. I would never do anything to hurt you, Ginny.” He reaches a hand out toward her face.

“I–I have to go now, Harry. I have to go.”

His hand stops less than an inch away from her and drops to his side. “Alright then.” He steps back, allowing her freedom to walk away. As she does, she is terrified that he will stop her, but he doesn’t. Once through the portrait hole, she breaks into a run, wanting to put as much space between them as possible.

*

            She reaches the dungeons, where Draco is waiting for her. He looks at her in surprise as she collapses into his open arms. He realizes that she is trembling. He holds her away from him.

“What happened? Was he there?” he asks.

“No, Draco. I just saw the boogie man,” she snaps.

 He can’t help but notice that her voice is unsteady.

He narrows his eyes angrily. “What did he do to you? I swear if that little Pothead has touched you I’ll kill him. I know some good curses.”

She puts her hand on his chest. “No, he didn’t do anything but scare the hell out of me.”

“So he’s normal again?” Draco asks skeptically.

“Normal is an overstatement. His voice was all weird. Flat. And his eyes . . .” She shudders. “But he didn’t touch me. He apologized for hurting me, but said it was rude of you to take me away.”

“Does he not fucking realize that he could have killed you? Damn, Potter has really gone nuts.”

She nods and sighs. He was fine before. A jerk, and kind of dense, sure. But he wasn’t psychotic. It’s like he’s fucking obsessed with me. Her ash brown eyes widen as a realization dawns on her.

“Oh no . . .”

Draco gives her a bewildered look. “What?”

“The potion. He was fine before he took the potion.”

“Ginny, it’s a love potion, not a recipe for serial killers,” he replies.

“But surely there have been times when the potion went wrong? I mean, what if you messed up one an instruction,” she says, her voice was rising with panic.

“I resent that remark. I am the best student in my house.”

“Merlin, Draco, even Hermione makes mistakes sometimes.”

“Ok, ok,” he says, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll look into it.”

“Good.”