Some Days I Wish I Were in Slytherin

Chapter 13: Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Ginny started to turn around to see what had distracted him, but he stopped her, a frantic look on his face.

"Quick," he hissed. "Get out your wand!"

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"What?" Ginny asked.

"No time for questions just ..." His words were cut off as Daisy started to scream.

She automatically started to turn around, but Draco grabbed her shoulders, his expression grim. "Get it out. Now!"

Ginny frantically dug in her bag with shaking hands, searching until her fingers encountered the smooth leather of her wand case. She slipped it free and held it to her chest. Behind her, she could hear Daisy hysterically screaming Erasmus's name over and over and the sound of harsh voices yelling in Chinese.

"Ok, now what?" she asked, praying they hadn't been noticed.

Draco looked intently over her shoulder, and held her close as if pretending to shield her from the violence. "Summon Erasmus's wand ... He won't need it," he added, shaking his head and answering her unasked question before she could speak. Ginny swallowed hard and tried not to think of the surprisingly kind man she'd just been talking about stocks with an hour before lying injured or ... worse.

Her wand gripped tightly in her hand, Ginny focused on picturing Erasmus's wand in her head. "Accio wand," she whispered. There was a startled yell from one of the men behind her and then, with sudden swiftness, a mahogany wand came rocketing over her shoulder. Draco grabbed it and pulled her around.

"Now!" he yelled.

She was faced with a scene of utter chaos. Muggles were scattering like dry leaves, running screaming for their cars or for the shelter of the wall. Before her, Erasmus lay limp at the feet of the guard. Several other men in uniform formed a loose circle around Daisy. The girl was on her knees, a large bruise already forming on the side of her face, hat gone, her blonde hair hanging in her eyes. She fought the man that held her like a hippogriff trying to protect its young, struggling to get to Erasmus. She scratched his face with her fingernails, and he hit her across the cheek, sending her sprawling into the dirt. A second man aimed a kick at her prone body as he held tightly to her wand, a triumphant look on his face.

"Let her go!" yelled Draco. The soldiers looked up, startled at the sight of the two of them. Ginny held her wand in front of her, mimicking Draco's defensive posture, but her heart was in her throat, and her fingers frozen in terror around the slender piece of wood. These were Muggles, she thought frantically. They were supposed to be harmless. She couldn't use a spell against them. They weren't even supposed to see magic.

Next to her, Draco seemed to have no such reservations. He pointed his wand at the soldier who had kicked Daisy. "Stupefy!"

The man collapsed in a heap, Daisy's wand falling with a clatter from his lifeless hand.

His colleagues shouted with confusion and rage, and quickly dropped to their knees and pulled some kind of metal wands from their sides. They held them at arms length and screamed at the two of them in Chinese. Draco sneered and brought up his wand to cast another spell. Ginny could feel her hands trembling so violently she was afraid she would drop her wand, then she suddenly remembered something her father had once said about Muggles and their metal wands.

"Draco! Get down!" She yanked him to the ground by the sleeve of his shirt, just as two of the wands exploded. Draco's spell went wild, red lighting shooting through and incinerating one of the maps. A high pitched whine zipped past her ear and she heard Draco cry out.

"Something bit me!" He struggled to right himself, but Ginny clambered up faster and pulled him behind a signboard. Little pieces of metal from the men's wands hammered into the ground around them as they ducked for cover. She turned to Draco and gasped at the wet red spot soaking though his shirt sleeve. She seized his arm and examined the slow trickle of blood oozing from a small hole.

"Can you move?" she asked. He nodded in response, his eyes glazed with pain. "Good then," she said. "On the count of three? Watch out for their wands."

"I figured that out already. Thanks," he replied. She couldn't help but think that even in a crisis, he could still sound sarcastic. He gestured to her to take the left side of the sign while he took the right.

One ... Two ...Three!" Ginny shouted. They jumped out from behind the sign, wands in front of them.

"Reducto!" shouted Draco. Ginny recoiled in horror as one of the men collapsed screaming to the ground, a great gaping hole where his chest should be. She gritted her teeth and stepped forward; if this was to end with as few injuries to the Muggles as possible, she would have to take action.

"Expelliarmus!" she screamed. The metal wands flew out of the men's hands and landed next to her. "Stupefy!" The man standing near Erasmus fell to the ground.

She heard Draco yelling hexes, and she continued to stupefy anything that moved. The air was thick with brilliant green and red light, and the sharp, tangy scent of magic hung heavily in the air. Suddenly there was the sound of running feet behind them, and some of the men from Julian's car ran up, wands ready. The remaining soldiers fell before the onslaught, some merely unconscious, others twitching in agony. In an instant, the fight was over. The few tourists who hadn't made it to the parking lot were quickly stunned by Julian's cronies until the wizards could figure out what to do with them.

Draco sank to the ground. Pain ravaged his features as he clutched his shoulder. She fell to her knees next to him. "Are you ok?" She tried to feel the wound, but he slapped her hand away.

"I'm fine. Go check on Flint and Parkinson," he said. Ginny nodded, but first placed a temporary charm on his arm to slow the bleeding and dull the pain. "I guess those boring lectures Professor Snape's been making me attend were worth something after all," she said with a smile.

He nodded, then put his hand behind her head and kissed her softly. "Thanks, Weasley," he said.

"Anytime," she murmured. Her stomach clenched, and she found it surprisingly difficult to leave him as she stood up and made her way over to Erasmus.

The downed wizard was sprawled in the middle of the makeshift battlefield, Daisy crouched over him. Uniformed soldiers were cast around him carelessly, like forgotten dolls. Ginny could see most of them breathing as she passed, but she was afraid one or two of them, including the one Draco had cursed, were dead. She forced herself to put the thought to the back of her mind; she would deal with it later.

She fell to her knees next to Erasmus and put her hand on Daisy's arm. "Is he ...?" The girl looked up at Ginny, her dark blue eyes blank and frightened, and her battered face was streaked with tears.

"I don't know," Daisy said, her voice dull. "I don't know what happened. One minute the guard was showing us the map, and the next thing he ... he saw Erasmus's wand, inside his jacket, and then he hit him ..." her voice broke, and she bent over the boy, her shoulders shaking with grief.

Ginny gently pulled the girl up. "Let me look at him, Daisy." She dug in his neck for a pulse, the way her brother Charlie had showed her. His neck felt cold to the touch, and she could feel tears start to fill her own eyes. Just as she was about to give up, she felt it -- faint but steady. "He's ok," she whispered. "I think he's just been knocked out."

"Really? Oh, Ginny!"

Ginny froze as the frazzled blonde threw her arms around her. She patted Daisy awkwardly on the back and slowly extricated herself from her grasp. A soft groan startled them both, and they both bent over Erasmus. His brown eyes flickered open and then closed.

"Where am I?" he asked. He opened his eyes again and looked at the two of them hovering over him. "Is this a dream?" He started to smile and then his eyes went to Daisy's face. "Dais? What happened? Who did that to you?" He tried to sit up and sank back to the ground.

"Just rest," Daisy reassured him. "I'm fine. We both are, thanks to Draco and Ginny."

Ginny felt a mixed sensation of guilt and accomplishment. She felt sick with herself for attacking Muggles, but if she hadn't, they would have killed her, attacked her without question just for being a witch, just as they had Erasmus. She shook her head. "It was mostly Draco."

"Not at all," Daisy said. The girl looked at her, and Ginny sensed something had changed between them. "I saw what you did out there. Your spells were just as strong as Draco's, maybe better." She stood up, recovered her wand from the ground, and magicked a stretcher for Erasmus. She started to float it ahead of her, but paused a moment. "Thanks, Weasley."

"Anytime." Ginny looked at her hands for a moment and asked, "Parkinson? You love him don't you?" Daisy smiled, a funny little ironic twist of the lips that answered Ginny's question. "I'm sorry about before," Ginny added. Daisy nodded and looked, Ginny thought, as if she'd suddenly grown up. Her expression was tired, but looked wiser, with none of its usual nasty bitterness.

"Me too," said Daisy. She waved her wand and followed the slowly bobbing stretcher down the path to the car.

Ginny turned around and faced the rest of the carnage. Julian, Draco, and the others were huddled in a group, discussing what to do with the soldiers. Ginny made her way over to them and hovered at the edge next to Draco just in time to hear one of them, McNabb if she remembered correctly, begin to argue.

"We should just kill them all and be done with it. Bystanders too."

"Now Randolph," Julian said in a cold, forbidding voice. "As much as I'd love to indulge your blood lust, I'm afraid the Chinese minister would frown on us killing innocent Muggles."

"But it was an unprovoked attack!" shouted McNabb. "You saw Parkinson's daughter. He'll want retribution." Several other people murmured in agreement.

Julian stood up straight, his ice grey eyes pinning the other man. "Don't you think the two dead ones already qualify?" he asked. "I'd say retribution has been taken care of."

"But the witnesses ... and the others."

"That's what memory charms are for, you fool. Or have you forgotten how to use your wits in place of violence?"

"But the Dark Lord ..."

"Is not in charge here. I am. I am the senior member of the council, McNabb. It would do you well to remember your place." He wrapped his fingers tighter around his cane and looked at each of the wizards and witches in turn. They all eventually looked away and were quiet.

"Very good," Julian said. "Now, Jeffrey and Rupert will make it look like an accident. A rabid dog perhaps. Portia? How good are your memory charms?"

A small woman with brown curls and bright blue eyes gave Julian a wry smile. "As good as ever and you know it. I'll need someone to help me though."

"I can try, Grandfather," said Draco.

Julian looked at his grandson for the first time. "I thought I told you not to use magic, Draco."

Draco's mouth dropped open. "But, Grandfather, they were going to kill us." He looked at the others for support. One by one, the group averted their eyes, apparently unwilling to cross the elder Malfoy.

Julian sneered, "It is always mitigating circumstances with you, boy. I would think following orders would be easy enough. You're lucky we're so far away from the ministry and that you weren't using your own wand. Think of the consequences if you'd been caught. You could have been excommunicated from our world, had your wand snapped. If I catch you ever using magic when you're not supposed to again, I will snap your wand in half myself. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Grandfather." Draco stared back at his grandfather, his eyes dark, and the cords in his neck standing out from his repressed rage. His arm had been bandaged hastily; the blood-tinged white cloth standing out like a target.

"Good," Julian said. He looked over at Ginny. "Virginia, Severus tells me you're very gifted with Charms. Have you cast a memory charm before?"

"Yes, sir," Ginny said, resisting the urge to send Draco a sympathetic glance.

"Then you go with Portia. McNabb, take Draco back to the car, he and the others need medical attention." The man narrowed his eyes, turned away, and left without a word. Draco started to follow him, but before he left, his eyes met Ginny's and he brushed her hand fleetingly with his.

"Meet me after, at my hotel," he said. She nodded her assent and he walked off after McNabb.

Julian looked at the rest of them, waved his hand with irritation, and said, "Get moving people. Those Muggles won't remain stunned forever."

The brown-haired woman stepped to Ginny's side and held out her hand. "Hello, Virginia, I'm Portia Higgs."

"Virginia Weasley," Ginny said, shaking the woman's hand. They began walking back to where the soldiers lay. A few of them were beginning to stir a little, but were stunned into silence by Julian.

Off in the distance, Ginny could hear the men Julian had called Jeffrey and Rupert arguing about what kind of dog could have caused the wounds in the dead soldier's chests. They reached the first soldier and knelt next to him.

"All right," Portia said. "The difficult part of a memory spell, as I'm sure you know, is replacing the vanished memories with the false ones. What I want you to do is the vanishing spell, and I'll come after you and implant the memories of the attack." She looked over her shoulder, "Jeffrey, darling, did you decide on what kind of a dog it will be?"

"Mongrel, rather large and shaggy," he shouted back. He paused from where he was transfiguring said dead dog's body and added, "Very big teeth." He poked it again with his wand and the teeth lengthened considerably.

Portia turned back to Ginny. "So you cast your spell, make sure to control that wand motion, remember, we only want to change the past half hour or so."

Ginny nodded, stood up and raised her wand to cast the first spell. Again she swallowed the disgust she felt at using magic on Muggles, reminding herself that the Ministry did this all the time. She brought the wand down with a sharp motion and a tight little twist at the end, "Obliviate."

"Well done!" said Portia. "Now go on to the next, I'll be right behind you."

One by one, they charmed all the surviving soldiers and those few tourists unlucky enough to get in the cross fire. They stood surveying their work as the men placed the finishing touches on the rabid dog and ravaged victims tableau.

"Fairly convincing," said Portia. "We'll just let them wake up on their own, no sense tempting fate and having to repeat this whole fiasco."

She began to head for the car, her tiny form moving with surprising grace. Ginny followed, feeling a little tall and awkward. They got into the remaining car and sagged back, exhausted, against the soft leather seats.

"That was some show you put on Virginia. You looked like some avenging queen when we came into the fray. Your red hair flying around your head, shouting spells." Portia smiled and looked at her with discerning eyes.

"Well I've always been good at duels," Ginny said. Portia seemed friendly, but like all the people in Julian's entourage, she couldn't be trusted.

"Your father would be proud, I'm sure," said the woman.

"If you know my father at all you know that's not true," she replied, lifting her chin and meeting the woman's eyes.

"Yes, I suppose you're right." Portia looked out the window for a moment. "What are you doing here?" she asked. Her expression was honestly confused, and Ginny was slowly realizing that she was as much a mystery to these people as they were to her.

Ginny interlaced her fingers and looked pensively out the window for a moment; still no sign of the three men. She sensed that Portia was somehow feeling her out, trying to determine her importance to the Malfoys and her place in their world. This was a moment, she realized, that could determine the course of her life amongst them. She decided that the best explanation was a version of the truth.

She licked her lips and finally said, "You know, it's funny. I'm not sure of the answer to that myself these days. It's not like one day I woke up and decided I wanted to go against everything my family stands for. I still love them, it's just, I want something different. I want people - the right people - to respect me. I want to be something other then just Arthur Weasley's little girl. I don't want to be looked down on or live constantly in the noble tradition of my family, proud but penniless. I want something more ... Something that's mine. Does that make sense?"

"Do you want young Malfoy?"

"I want what he can give me." Ginny raised an eyebrow and looked the woman unwaveringly in the eyes.

Portia broke out into a wide smile. She laughed and grasped Ginny's hands tightly in her own. "Oh my dear, you're a woman after my own heart. Julian was right about you." She let go of Ginny's hand and rested her palm on her cheek in a motherly fashion. "Your family will not hear of this from us, never fear. We protect our own."

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Draco tossed about angrily in his bed. The healer had insisted he rest after she mended his injury, but he wasn't happy about it. He was furious with his grandfather for treating him like a little boy and even angrier about what had happened. He looked at the clock for what felt like the thousandth time.

"Where are they?" he muttered into the empty room. "They should be back by now." He disentangled himself from the sheets, leaving them in a crumpled pile on the bed, walked over to the mirror, and pulled his shirt off. The raw, puckered edges of the wound felt strange and foreign to his fingertips. He pushed at the spot, marveling that a small bit of metal could cause so much damage to his flesh. He went over to the nightstand and cupped the bullet in his hand. Someday he would make the Muggles pay for this. Someday, when he was powerful and beyond his grandfather's reach. Until then he could wait. He dropped the bullet as a soft knock at the door startled him.

"Draco?"

Ginny. It was odd how just the sound of her voice could make his blood sing. It was terrible that he felt this way. She made him feel out of control. He didn't like that feeling. When she touched him, his body felt like it was on fire, but even worse was the fact that when he wasn't with her, she was all he could think about. He missed her. Not her body, but her laugh, the way she annoyed him, the way her eyes crinkled at the edges when she was mad at him.

It was madness to suppose she was in love with him. At one time he would have scoffed at the notion that any girl would not fall instantly at his feet, but with her it was different. She made him feel awkward and strange, and he never knew what she was thinking.

The knock again, her voice. "Draco? Are you all right?"

"Come in," he said.

She stepped into the room, her face tired, a tiny smudge of dirt on her cheekbone. "How are you?" she asked.

"Oh lovely, Weasley, I've just been shot by a Muggle, pissed on by my grandfather, and prodded by a med witch. I'm grand, how about you?"

"Brilliant," she said, giving him a cold stare. "Thanks for asking. Glad to know you were so busy with your pity party. I wouldn't have worried if I'd known your inner brat was keeping you company."

She half turned away, and although Draco suspected she was only engaging in their usual repartee, he was infuriated just the same.

"You wouldn't have worried? That's fine. I worried enough for the both of us." He felt rage overtake him, blinding him. He crossed the room, grabbed her by the shoulders, and shook her hard. "I hated worrying about you. I hate this. I hate the way you make me feel." He shoved her against the wall. "I hate you." He spun away from her and seized the first thing that he saw, the porcelain figurine of a woman. He clutched it in his hand, as if it were her neck, and with a roar threw it at the wall above her head.

She cried out and flung her arms up in front of her face as the tiny shards exploded over her. The pieces made tiny, scattered cuts on her arms and her face, and she stared at him, her eyes wide and horrified. She opened her lips to speak, but nothing came out. A small drop of blood trickled down her cheek. For one crazy moment he thought it was a tear, and he realized the enormity of what he had done.

"Ginny?" he said. He took a step toward her and she flinched. "No ...Don't ...Please, don't be frightened." He walked towards her, ignoring the pieces of porcelain cutting into his feet. He took her face in his hands and stared directly at her. Her eyes were large and frightened, like a deer's. She closed them as he rubbed his thumbs over her cheekbones, her expression tense.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I wasn't mad at you. I didn't mean to hurt you. I was just scared. I was so scared." He was aware that he was babbling but he couldn't seem to stop. His only thought was that he never wanted her to look at him that way again, and suddenly the truth slipped out. "You mean so much to me. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you."

She turned her head to press her lips into his palm and a real tear slid down her cheek. She opened her eyes and the look inside them scared him even more. "Oh Draco," she whispered. "I hate you too."

Her words sent a shiver of fear and unnamed longing down his spine. He slipped his hands down, encircled her slim neck to feel her pounding pulse and then wrapped them around her shoulders.

"Do you mean that?" he asked.

"What do you think?"

Her lips curved into a smile, and without thinking, he launched himself at her, pressed her against the wall, and kissed her. Her lips were so damned soft, he thought. It was agony kissing her, but it was even more agonizing not to be. He felt her mouth part under his own and he pressed on, demanding, conquering, wanting to feel that sweet softness with every part of him. He could feel her shaking under his hands, and she gasped as he bit her lip. He pulled back and wrapped his fingers in her hair, trapping her head between his hands. He wanted to own her, for her to be his forever. The thought of losing her terrified him, made him brutal.

"You're mine," he hissed. "Mine. Never forget that. You belong to me." He placed a fiery line of kisses along her jawbone, wanting to devour her, break her bones, make her his by the only way he'd ever learned, with force and cruelty. He sought the soft flesh of her neck, above the pulse, and bit down hard on the thin skin, hard enough to draw blood. He could hear her trying to catch her breath, and she made a funny little noise which only encouraged him. His hands tore at the front of her dress, pulling down on the fabric, his only thought wanting to feel her skin, bare against his own. He heard the material rip, and then a hard shove knocked him off his feet.

He landed with a startled thump on the floor and looked up.

"Bloody Hell, Malfoy!" she said. "What are you trying to do? Kill me?" She rubbed her neck with her hand and he saw her wince at the sight of blood on her fingers.

He tried to make himself sound casual. "Just making sure everyone knows you're mine."

"Well honestly, try pissing on my shoes next time; at least it would employ a bit more finesse."

Draco pulled back and stared at her for a moment. "What do you mean finesse?"

"Well I just recovered one of your incisors from my neck so I think you can figure out what I mean."

"I never had any complaints before." He avoided her eyes, ashamed of his inexperience.

"Your pillow doesn't count, Malfoy." She looked at him, pressed her lips into a thin line, and wiped her bloody hand on her skirt. "Besides," she added. "I'm really not into the abusive boyfriend thing. Already tried it. Not really my scene, but thanks." Her tone was light, but when she turned her head, he saw her eyes growing wet.

A flush spread up his neck. He looked at her, really looked. She had little flecks of blood, like freckles, on her arms, and the rip down the front of her dress exposed the soft curve of her breast. The mark on her neck was purple and angry looking. He felt sick to his stomach. He could have hurt her; he could have really hurt her. Images of his father hitting his mother flashed in front of him. He could remember times when his mother would hide in her room for days and flinch automatically when his father raised his hand. He remembered the sounds of crying and begging that came from her bedchamber late at night.

"Ginny. I'm sorry ... I ..." he rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes and mumbled softly. "I don't want to end up like my father." The words felt strange in his throat. His whole life he'd wanted nothing but to be like his father. Now there was something he wanted more.

"Then don't," she said. Tears ran freely down her cheeks, the wetness making little golden bubbles float to the surface of her eyes. The room felt cold to him, and the wound in his shoulder suddenly began to ache.

"Ginny---" he began.

"Shut up," she said. She wiped her cheeks with her fingers and knelt down on the floor next to him. "Close your eyes and be quiet," she said.

Obedient, and wondering why this was so, he closed them. The room was silent and still for a few moments, and he wondered if she had left. Then he felt the warm softness of her hair whisper softly on his chest, followed by the slight pressure of her lips on his neck. They wandered down around his neck and up the other side, a necklace of kisses. Her hands were gentle, barely touching him, little brushes of her fingers on his arms and the skin of his torso. He opened his eyes and tried to touch her face.

"Keep them closed," she hissed in his ear. She continued to kiss him, her lips tender and loving until finally he cried out in frustration. She pulled away, and when he opened his eyes she was sitting there silently, regarding him with a serious expression. "You aren't him," she said.

He nodded and reached out to touch her hand. Their fingers fit together perfectly and they sat in silence for some time until Draco took a deep breath and looked around.

"You do realize we're still sitting on the floor don't you?" he said. He smiled and with one swift motion stood up, picked her up in his arms, and carried her to the bed. He set her down amongst the rumpled bed sheets.

"Be careful of your shoulder," she scolded.

"Well," he drawled, "the nurse did recommend a little light activity." He bent and kissed her softly, exploring the skin of her neck and her arms, tenderly touching the little nicks and cuts from the broken porcelain. When he reached her lips at last, he kissed her, then drew away and stroked her cheek with his hand. "What are you doing to me, Ginny?" he asked.

"The same thing you're doing to me."

"And what is that?"

"Driving you mad," she said. With a swift move he assumed she'd learned from her brothers, she wrapped her leg around him and suddenly he was pinned to the bed beneath her. She held his wrists down and murmured into the warm hollow of his neck, "Now we'll see how you like it."

He cried out in pain when her sharp teeth pierced his skin, but at the same time, he felt a surge of desire. Too soon, she pulled away from him and regarded his neck critically. He brought his fingers to the spot and felt blood.

"I thought you didn't like it rough, Weasley."

"Everything in moderation," she said with a smirk. He stared at her for a moment and then laughed. She was mad, insane really, and with her red hair tumbling around her face, and her brown shining eyes she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

He ran his hands up her arms and felt a surge of delight when she shivered. "You," he said in a hoarse voice, "are wearing entirely too much clothing."

She looked away for a moment, and when she looked back, her eyes were hesitant. She pushed her hair behind her ears. "Draco," she said, "would you mind if we ... waited a little longer?"

"Why?" he asked. He dumped her off of him and sat up, rearranging the pillows with unnecessary force. The words spilled out before he could stop them. "I didn't think you were too particular about who you slept with." Her face froze up and he inwardly cursed himself.

"That's because they never meant anything to me," she said in a quiet voice. She ran the silky material of the sheets between her fingers and wouldn't meet his eyes. "You're different."

His heart seemed to stop and his mouth went dry. "Why?" he asked.

She looked up at him. "Because I think you mean something."

His heart began to beat again and he wrapped his arms around her, pulled her to him with hesitant hands. Her body felt light and uncertain, and a foreign emotion washed over him. "Me too," he said. "Me too."

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Draco rolled over in the middle of the night and looked at Ginny. She was sound asleep, curled around a pillow, her hair a dark blur against the sheets. His grandfather had sent Snape an owl detailing the "accident" and had insisted she stay the night. They'd bathed and consumed an enormous dinner with his grandfather, Erasmus, and Daisy.

Erasmus and Daisy seemed to have accepted Ginny since the incident at the wall. They all spent the evening talking and playing wizard games. He'd even caught Ginny giggling by the fireplace with Daisy after dinner, as if they'd always been friends. He felt a rush when he saw her in his world, her delicate embroidered robe embracing her curves, wearing a necklace of his grandmother's. When she'd looked over at him, her eyes aglow in the firelight, and blown him a kiss, for the first time in his life he knew how it felt to truly belong. Later, his grandfather hadn't said a word when Ginny had followed him into his room. They'd stayed up and talked and kissed and talked, until they fell asleep, exhausted.

A soft noise had awoken him and he realized it was sound of the house elf cleaning up the broken figurine. He ignored the servant and stretched out his hand to stroke Ginny's hair. He touched her cheek with his fingertips, and she murmured contentedly in her sleep, turned, and burrowed into his arms. He felt strange and afraid. She was what he wanted, and no matter what his grandfather's plans, this would be his. She would be his. He kissed the top of her head and whispered unfamiliar words into the dark, trying out their shape in his mouth. They felt good.