Draco's Dilemma

When Lucius Malfoy fell in love with Narcissa Black, he wasn't prepared to risk rejection. He wanted her complete and utter devotion, her undying love and her unquestioning acceptance. And to ensure he had these, he'd created three, exquisite glass roses. Each carried a charm, each of those charms building upon the other to bind Narcissa to him, heart, mind and soul. He'd given her the first one shortly after they met; it carried the Evinco Charm. The second, with the Concupisco Charm, he gave her as an engagement present and the third rose, carrying the Teneo Charm, was one of his wedding gifts to her. Many years later his son would find these roses and pass on two of them to the woman he'd come to love, Ginny Weasley. He'd been unaware of the power of the charms...or of the awful suffering they would cause her; when he found out what he'd done, however unwittingly, Draco had been devastated beyond measure...

In Draco Malfoy's study was a large, beautifully carved desk that had once belonged to his father. It was the one thing he'd taken from Malfoy Manor before it had been razed to the ground. It contained a small, secret drawer, lined with velvet and guarded by a number of spells and enchantments. Draco, although he'd always known of it, had never used it. That is, until after Priscilla Longbottom's visit. During that long night before Ginny came home...the night he hadn't slept...the night he began to make it...

He couldn't recall later how it came to him or why he'd thought of that drawer and it's contents, but he did remember that as midnight struck, marked by the mournful chiming of the entrance hall clock, he'd found himself sitting at his desk, saying the words that would reveal and open the drawer. He'd sat and looked at the folded parchment without touching it at first, fighting against his fierce longing to use the knowledge it contained.

It was a fight he lost - his enemy, an overwhelming desperation and fear - proving to be stronger than his own will that night.

As a single, melancholy chime echoed in the hall an hour later, he'd reached out and picked up the parchment he'd first seen and read many years ago...

On that earlier occasion, his expression had become grim and hard as he realised it contained the information, spells and incantations necessary to create each of the three exquisite, glass roses. The roses his father had given to his mother - two of which he, Draco, had given to Ginny, unwittingly causing her great pain and heartache. Those roses, Draco believed, had been instrumental in his mother's death. Despite this, he gave no thought to destroying the parchment at the time and had simply returned it to its hiding place before resolutely putting it out of his mind.

But on this occasion, as he unfolded the handwritten instructions, smoothing out the creases, he told himself he was merely filling in time. So it was during that fateful night that he took the first steps necessary to create a single rose carrying the Teneo Charm, the strongest of the three charms. As the sky showed the first grey light of dawn outside, he'd returned the parchment to the drawer along with the small, sharp, glistening black rock he'd brought into being during the darkest hours of that night. Yet, as he closed the drawer, he felt horrified at what he'd done and swore to himself he wouldn't open it again, believing that was the end of the matter.

He was wrong.

Each night for the next week he found himself making his way to his study to continue work on the rose and the charm, and each night he reviled himself. Still, he continued, as though controlled by some deeper force. He ordered Latro to never enter the study for any reason during that week, telling Ginny he was catching up with paperwork and correspondence he'd been neglecting for some time. A week later, when it was finished, he'd placed the Teneo Rose back in the drawer with the parchment of instructions, telling himself he'd eventually get around to destroying it.

Draco knew that if he gave the rose to Ginny, it would become impossible for her to love any other man or make love to any other man besides himself. The Teneo Charm was Dark Magic and was an extremely powerful charm of possession, simultaneously ensuring that possession was binding and enduring.

He hated himself for making the rose, castigated himself for even allowing the thought of giving it to Ginny to enter his head, despite having banished that thought before it was fully formed.

While an inner voice continued to urge him to destroy the treacherous thing, he never seemed to get around to it, always finding something else that needed to be done first. He would later come to regret his procrastination.

Draco's dilemma? If something went wrong between them, if Ginny wanted to leave him, he found himself wondering if he would actually use the wretched rose - if he hadn't gotten around to destroying it, that is. Would he be able to stop himself from using it if he was faced with the prospect of losing her? Even though giving the cursed thing to her was wrong and he knew he'd be taking away her freedom to love as she chose - would he use it? Would he use it? This question churned torturously through his mind each day, but his aching heart seemed unable to find an answer.

Draco did keep the promises he'd made to Priscilla - he never told Ginny about her visit and he never again asked Ginny if she loved him, he no longer begged her just to say she did, even if she didn't. Ginny believed it was because of what she'd said the last time she'd left for the Burrow.

She was wrong.

It was due solely to his all-encompassing fear of losing her. It was this fear that had proven to be the only thing strong enough to fight his obsession. Draco never allowed himself to consciously consider the Teneo Rose as a back-up - a "security blanket" - to fall back on if it looked as though he might lose her. However, if he'd cared to delve a little more deeply into his own mind, he would've found those thoughts buried there, thoughts that unconsciously fuelled his ability to keep his obsessive need to himself.

One morning, a month after he'd placed the finished rose in the drawer, he'd walked into his study to find Latro dusting and tidying up his desk. The little elf jumped and squeaked in fright as Draco entered.

Dismissing him, Draco sat down to attend to some correspondence. He would've missed it if he hadn't fallen into the habit of compulsively glancing at the small carved panel that covered the secret drawer each time he sat at his desk. As his eyes flicked automatically towards the panel he froze; it was open - by the tiniest bit, it was true, the crack so slight he wouldn't have noticed ordinarily.

He felt panic rise within him. Had Latro knocked it accidentally while dusting? Surely that's all it was, for a house-elf's magic was closely bound with his owner's home and belongings and it wasn't unheard of for them to be able to bypass enchantments and the like, accidentally or otherwise.

While he told himself it had been an accident, he became aware that from that day onwards, Latro seemed different towards him. It was as though he was worried and distracted by something. Initially, Draco told himself he was imagining things, but his concern increased daily and he eventually asked Latro whether something had happened to disturb him, had he found or seen something on Draco's desk that was worrying him? Draco had received a vigorous shaking of the elf's head by way of answer.

It was a week later that Draco discovered Latro had lied to him.

The reason the elf was able to do this was because Draco had "given" him to Ginny, told him to follow her orders implicitly, without actually freeing him from his enslavement to the Malfoy line. In effect, Latro had two masters and if there was a conflict between them, it was left to the elf to choose which of them he would follow or obey, although it was usual for the first, or most senior master, to be favoured.

The little house-elf had felt the magic emanating from his master's desk from the time the Teneo Rose had been finished and had recognised it as being Dark Magic. Because the desk had originally belonged to Lucius Malfoy, Latro had been afraid his former master had built some ghastly, delayed hex into the desk and he was concerned for Draco.

This concern drove him to find and open the secret drawer, his large eyes blinking in surprise at the sight of the exquisite glass rose that lay on top of the folded parchment. After reading the parchment of instructions, it dawned on the little elf that the reason for his banishment from the study for a week - the time it took to create the rose - now sparkled in his small, long-fingered hand. He knew what the rose was intended to do and that there was only one person his master would want to possess, heart, mind and soul. He struggled with his conscience for a week before his stronger loyalty to Ginny, his love for her, drove him to seek her out.

And so it was late one afternoon, not long before Christmas, when Draco came to regret his inability to destroy the Teneo Rose he'd created.

He was relaxing in his study, reading in front of the fire, when Ginny unexpectedly walked in. Draco looked up, smiling with pleasure at the sight of her, but his smile vanished when he saw the expression on her face.

It was his deepest, darkest nightmare come to life. She was looking at him with disgust and revulsion. He jumped to his feet, his book dropping unnoticed from his hands.

'What is it?' he asked, his voice roughened with fear.

Ginny pointed at his desk, her eyes hard, and said one word: 'Why?'

By all the Gods! She knew! Draco's heart turned to ice within him. But how?! HOW! Latro? Was it possible? It had to be - it was the only explanation. It had to be Latro! He felt a momentary desire to kill his house-elf.

'Latro.' It was all he said, his voice flat and defeated.

Ginny nodded, her voice steely as she repeated, 'Why?'

He couldn't find the words at that moment to express his innermost fears and enormous desperation - his deep-seated need of her - or the horror he felt at the thought of losing her; nor could he articulate the fact that he hadn't really planned on using it, he'd just made it because... Fool! he told himself bitterly. Whatever I say will sound meaningless in the face of the fact that I made it. And kept it. He opened his mouth to try, but all he found he could say was, 'I love you.'

'That's not love!' Ginny spat. 'That's possession!'

Despite a sickening weakness taking hold of his body, he crossed the room towards her, his hands outstretched.

She stepped back away from him, out of his reach.

'No!' he moaned, taking another step towards her, trying again to reach her.

'Don't touch me!' she cried and then she covered her face with her hands, her head dropping as she began to cry, her body wracked with sobs.

'Ginevra, please!' Draco sounded as though he was in agony. Ginny lifted her head and looked at him, tears streaming down her face.

'I thought you loved me, truly loved me! After what I went through with those eternally damned roses of your mother's, how could you, Draco? How could you!'

'By all that's holy, by all the Gods, I'm sorry, Ginevra! You have no idea how sorry - just don't leave me!'

Ginny had started backing towards the door.

'Or what, Draco? You'll use that bloody rose? You'd rather I was your puppet? Forced to love you?'

And that's when he knew what he must do.

He whipped around towards the desk, his wand appearing in his hand from within the folds of his robes. Ginny screamed as a purple streak of light erupted from Draco's wand, engulfing the desk. A loud, ominous creaking noise filled the room and then the light was gone. And so was the desk. Fine grey ash littered the floor where it had been.

He turned to her, his face ghostly white, his eyes haunted.

'Until now, I was afraid to destroy that rose, Ginevra. I haven't been able to admit it to myself before now, but -' he paused, swallowing convulsively as he finally faced the truth and admitted it, '- I wasn't totally sure I wouldn't use the cursed thing, out of sheer desperation. I've imagined that having you with me at any cost was preferable to living without you. But it's not so. I'd rather die than do that to you. And as for making you into a puppet?' Draco shuddered - he'd never forget what his father had done to both of them all those years ago. 'A hideous prospect. I love you. I've always loved you and I always will love you. If you wish to leave, I won't stop you - the choice is yours.'

Pain twisted inside him like some pulsating, living thing.

'Ten galleons, sir.'

She wasn't with him, he was alone, his only companion the ever-present pain.

Draco handed over the money, waiting while the book he'd purchased was wrapped. He wasn't even sure why he'd bought it - it simply seemed to be something to do to help fill the black void he now inhabited, created by her absence.

'Left your lovely lady at home today?' commented the owner of the bookshop conversationally as he reached for the Spellotape dispenser.

Draco felt the pain inside him writhe in response to the man's words, and yet he somehow managed a faint, crooked smile as he nodded.

Five days of living hell.

As he handed Draco his book, now neatly wrapped, the shop owner said, 'Give her my regards, will you? And I hope she's enjoying that novel I recommended to her last week.'

'I will,' replied Draco gruffly as he left.

Once outside in the bright July sunshine, he headed automatically towards the restaurant he and Ginny regularly patronised. Out of habit, he was about to turn and ask her what she'd be having today, his steps faltering in the same instant as he remembered she wasn't there. When he entered the restaurant he declined to be shown to a table, saying he'd only be having a drink at the bar today.

And so he sat, staring into his second double shot of Ogden's, wondering if he could be bothered going home. She was everywhere there - in the unfinished book on her bedside table, in the clothes hanging in the same cupboard with his, in the faint scent that clung to her pillow. Each day since she'd left he'd found a new reminder of her. He also saw some of his pain mirrored in the large, mournful eyes of Latro, who was miserable, although he said nothing. Draco had initially wanted to punish the hapless elf severely, but he knew Ginny would never forgive him so he'd simply ordered the trembling creature not to speak to him unless absolutely necessary. When he'd told Ginny it was her choice as to whether she went or stayed, he'd meant it. And she'd left within the hour. He knew she'd leave - how could she not? And he was left alone with his vicious self-recriminations - all the more alone having had such joyous companionship as a contrast.

After his fourth double Ogden's, he decided he'd Floo home - Apparating after drinking too much could be risky.

Once home, Latro's voice came to him faintly as he walked to the door of the small sitting room; he paused to listen and realised it was coming from the kitchen. The elf was talking. To whom? Draco's heart leapt. Ginevra! She was back! He half ran, half staggered across the entrance hall and down the hallway that led to the kitchen, stopping at the open door.

And there she was, sitting up at the kitchen bench with Latro perched on a stool beside her, his back to Draco, chattering away ecstatically as Ginny smiled down at him. Draco lifted his hands to brace himself in the doorway; his heart was racing and his head was swimming from the mixed effect of the Ogden's and his own, escalating emotions.

'Ginevra!' His voice was hardly more than a hoarse whisper.

Ginny looked up at him, the smile leaving her face, her expression becoming solemn at the sight of him. She looked pale and tired. Latro's head jerked around and on seeing Draco, he immediately disappeared with a crack!

Draco stayed where he was - his hands pressing against the door frame to support himself; he didn't think he could stand unaided at that moment.

'Draco.'

The sound of her heartbreakingly familiar voice saying his name resonated within him, shattering the pain he'd been carrying and destroying the memory of it. She was here. She was back. And his relief knew no bounds. Then as she spoke, her words fell into the deep, black void of pain that suddenly burst open around him once more...

'I've come collect my things and to say goodbye.'

He was instantly overtaken with such intense anguish his vision wavered; the emotional storm sweeping through him so swiftly it was as though his heart heard her first, before the words were processed by his brain. An agonised roar split the air and as he slid slowly to the floor, the firewhiskey combining with despair to drag him down into darkness; he never knew it was his own voice that was beating against his ears as the blackness engulfed him.

'NOOOOO!!'

Draco opened his eyes slowly and found himself lying on his side in his bed, facing the window; he wondered dimly why he was in bed when the sun was shining so brightly. Then the memory slammed into him with such force he cried out. He felt an immediate, desperate desire to go back where he'd been - to the silent blackness where he knew nothing, felt nothing.

'Draco?'

Gods! It was her! He rolled onto his back to see her sitting on the side of the bed, her hand hovering tentatively above his arm. The torment of knowing she was right here, within reach - but that he couldn't have her and that she was leaving - was so intense, he moaned, his eyes closing of their own accord.

'Do you feel all right? What happened?' Her voice was full of loving concern. 'How much did you drink?'

Her patent anxiety slashed through him like a knife, leaving desolation in its wake. He realised that either Ginny or Latro must have moved him to his bed by magical means as he pushed himself upright, pulling his legs up and swinging them over the side of the bed before thrusting his hands through his dishevelled, blonde locks. Ginny moved so that she was now beside him, her hands clasped in her lap.

He turned his head, his gaze moving from his white-knuckled, clenched fists, resting on his thighs, to Ginny's face which was filled with sorrow and worry; he could see she'd been crying. Even so, he couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked - her fiery red hair pulled back in a ponytail, her eyes softened with concern as they rested on his face; she was wearing her favourite blue denim jeans with a green and white fitted polo shirt.

'Do I feel all right?' he rasped, 'How in hell should I be feeling considering I did something so utterly stupid it's beyond belief - and drove away the only person on this planet I care about. Only to have her come back, ending the torture, or so I thought. And now -' Ginny gasped softly as she saw enormous pain and pleading reflected in his eyes as he continued, '- and now, I find out you're only here to say goodbye.'

Ginny looked away, wrapping her arms around herself, speaking carefully thought-out words, her voice subdued with her own suffering.

'Draco, about the rose - I think I understand.' Ginny hesitated, a shiver passing over her. 'No, I don't, not really. But the fact that you destroyed it like that once I knew of it, without hesitation - well, it's gone. I'll be able to put that behind me in time, although,' she paused, glancing at him for a moment, a disturbing look in her eyes, 'I'm not sure about whether I'll feel the same level of trust in you ever again.'

Draco felt as though her words drove a thousand knives into his heart, his eyes closing with the pain. He nodded, his eyes still closed. 'I understand,' he said, unable to keep the anguish from his voice, 'and from now on I will simply have to do everything in my power to try and regain some of that trust.'

His eyes flew open at the sound of a harsh, dry sob only to see Ginny once more drop her face into her hands, her shoulders shaking as she began to cry.

Draco couldn't bear it - he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him but she pushed him away, moving back a little as she took a deep, shuddering breath as she fought to stop crying. Wiping the tears from her face with shaking fingers, Ginny dropped her hands to her lap where they lay, so tightly clasped, her knuckles were white.

'Draco, it's not just that rose.' Her voice held a dreadful desolation that made his heart ache and made his arms ache to hold her, comfort her. 'It's not going to work. I've been ignoring reality. And reality is what I've been facing up to for the past five days. This,' she said, indicating their life in the manor with a brief sweep of her arm, 'is no way to live, for either of us. It's not that I don't want to be with you - it's just that I can't see how we can spend our lives this way.'

Her words trickled slowly into his consciousness and as the full meaning of what she was saying became clear, Draco stood up abruptly. He reached out to gently pull Ginny to her feet, grasping her shoulders, waiting until she looked up at him before he spoke.

'Ginevra, please! There has to be a way we can make it work - somehow! If you can forgive me for that foul rose, I refuse to give up - I refuse to believe there isn't a way we can be together!'

As she looked up at him, the pleading in his eyes almost more than she could bear, Ginny felt hot, bitter tears begin slowly trickling down her face. She shook her head and when she spoke, her voice was weary and heartbroken. 'I want to believe you, Draco, but I've gone over everything - thought about it from every angle - I've been driving myself crazy for the last five days thinking about it. I can't see how we can go on.'

He pulled her to him, wrapping his strong arms around her, pressing his lips against the soft hair on top of her head. She drew in an uneven breath, her arms wrapping around his waist as she turned and laid her cheek against his chest, fresh pain sweeping through her at the sound of his erratically pounding heart. Here, in his arms, his love for her almost palpable, she felt the first glimmer of hope since she'd left five days before.

'For as long as I live, I will never be able to make it up to you - for making that rose - for considering using it even for the tiniest second - but I want to spend the rest of my life trying,' he whispered imploringly. 'If you need me even half as much as I need you, you'll stay. I'm begging you Ginevra - to stay. With everything I have. You've suffered so much - you lost your husband - I -' his voice faltered, but he took a deep breath and continued, '- I told you I loved you and then betrayed you, something I will never forgive myself for. But I know I can make you happy Ginevra, and you deserve to be happy.' He felt her shake and knew she was crying so he simply held her until he felt her sobs subside a little.

And then, without knowing or caring about the consequences, he took a small step back, gathering her hands in his. Then he dropped to one knee, Ginny's sharp, indrawn breath the only sound in the room. Their eyes were locked; hers filled with sadness, apprehension, surprise - his with love and pleading as he gazed up at her.

'Ginevra, I'm literally begging you to stay. I ask nothing more of life than to be able to marry you and spend my life with you - making you happy. If you will have me. I will do anything - anything! - to make you happy; you only need to ask.'

He watched as tears continued to flow unheeded down her face. He saw one emotion after another move swiftly across her face - the familiar, beloved face of the only woman he'd ever truly loved or wanted. He knew her every expression - watched as desperate longing filled her eyes because she did want to stay, he was sure. Uncertainty took the place of the longing - uncertainty at what their life would be like if she did stay - and then distress took over, she was thinking about having to choose between a "normal" life without him, a life devoid of happiness, or a secretive, hidden life with him. His eyes didn't leave her face for a second as he waited for her to speak and so it was that he saw the slow crumbling of her defences, the reasons for them not to be together retreating to some far corner of her mind, diminishing into unimportance - for now. He saw the moment when she made the choice to stay - it was in her eyes, in the small, wavering smile that appeared on her face and it was in the trembling of her fingers as they rested in his hands.

As Ginny felt the corners of her mouth lift in the beginnings of a smile, she saw the joy blazing fiercely in Draco's eyes a moment before he was overcome with such enormous relief he couldn't contain it, his head dropping forward, his eyes closing as his grip on her fingers unconsciously tightened.

'I'll stay,' he heard her whisper.

A sound that was half sob, half triumphant cry split the air as Draco came to his feet, feeling as though the light of a thousand suns was shining on him as he took Ginny's face in his hands, looking deeply into her eyes.

'You won't be sorry,' he whispered hoarsely before raining soft, quick kisses over her cheeks, her eyes and finally claiming her lips.

As their lips parted, Ginny spoke, her voice low and husky, laden with tears of relief and joy.

'I do need you, Draco, so much. I can't imagine being truly happy without you.'

He felt a dizzying rush of rapture at her words.

'We will find a way together, my love, I promise.'

She smiled through her tears.

'Perhaps we can, somehow. We can at least try, can't we?'

He kissed her again, gently and lovingly at first but as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed against him he felt his self-control slipping away, replaced with a growing, urgent need and desire for her. She gently pulled her mouth from his and whispered something against his lips.

'What?' he murmured, feverish with desire.

'I think I love you.'

And as those words penetrated his heart, he knew nothing would have the power to turn him from his chosen path: that of loving her and keeping her happy, for as long as he lived.

THE END