Four Weddings & A Funeral

Ginny tried to move, to stretch enough to relieve the enormous stiffness that had spread throughout her whole body, but to no avail. She was sitting in an old wooden chair, magically bound, able only to move her eyes; she couldn't even speak. The chair she was in had been put in the corner, a bed to her right, French doors along the wall to her left through which she couldn't see - or be seen. She couldn't be totally sure, but she thought it was still the same day that she'd been brought here - the curtains weren't drawn and it wasn't yet dark and she was sure she hadn't nodded off at any time. As she looked once more around the room that was now her prison, she felt again an eerie sense of déjà vu - she'd seen this room - been in this room - before, but that couldn't be possible, could it? This puzzle had helped distract her for the better part of the day as she tried in vain to remember when she could ever have been here before. It didn't come back to her until after the wretched looking house-elf, whose name she didn't know, came to bring her some food - no doubt leftovers from his master's meal, cold chicken and vegetables. He stood on the bed beside her and fed her patiently although he wouldn't look her in the eye. When she'd finished and he'd helped her drain a glass of pumpkin juice, he levitated her firstly to an adjoining bathroom before taking her back to the bed, covering her and drawing the curtains before shuffling out of the room. The intense physical relief of being in a different position quickly passed and as darkness descended she remembered - she'd been in this room during a dream - a dream she'd come to know had been induced by magic...Lucius Malfoy's magic.

She was in some grandiose bedchamber - there were three sets of tall French doors which were opened and led out onto a huge, stone balcony; there was warm sunshine streaming in through the doors, the light, sheer curtains adorning them fluttering gently in the breeze. The chamber looked almost mediaeval - a huge four poster bed with elaborate hangings stood at one end. There was a fireplace opposite, not needed this warm, balmy day. A writing desk and chair sat facing outside at one of the French doors. Some armchairs were arranged around a low table in the middle of the room. There were books here and there about the room and some beautiful paintings adorned the walls - all landscapes. She became aware that she was dressed in beautiful and expensive silk robes in a soft shade of aqua. Her long, red hair tumbled down her back. She headed towards the closest doorway but before she could go through, she heard a door open behind her and turned.

He entered and closed the door behind him, smiling at her. Then he was walking towards her - gliding smoothly, his own robes of deep, silvery forest green floating behind him as he strode towards her. When he reached her, he slid one hand beneath the curtain of her hair, curling his fingers around the nape of her neck.

'Ginevra, you look breathtaking, as always,' he said quietly.

The sound of his voice sent a delicious shiver throughout her body and she found herself wanting him to kiss her, looking up at him, her lips parting slightly. He immediately bent his head to do just that, his grip on her neck tightening slightly, his free arm sliding around her waist, pulling her against him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, relaxing against him, opening her mouth to him.

Hadn't she once fought this? Hadn't she felt trapped? Hadn't she struggled to escape? Those memories slid away, leaving her to kiss him harder, wanting him so much she ached with it. She was aware of being carried, being reverently laid on the huge four poster bed. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning over her, smiling lovingly down at her as his fingers played with her soft auburn curls.

'Shall I stay?' he asked.

If she'd been able to move, Ginny would've sat bolt upright at that point. She'd never known the room in that dream had been real - but it made sense. Lucius Malfoy had crafted the three, charmed roses he'd given to his wife and any memories associated with them would of course have been played out here, at Malfoy Manor - even when Draco had inadvertently given her those same roses, that wouldn't change.

Just bloody great, she thought bitterly, not only am I trapped - a prisoner - I'm stuck in a room from my nightmares remembering Draco Malfoy making love to me! Argh! In an effort to put these memories aside, she concentrated once more on the events of that morning, the events that had ended with her being here - something else she'd had plenty of time to think about although she still wasn't sure what was behind it.

She'd been shaken awake and looked up to see Priscilla, an anxious expression on her pretty face.

'Ginny, your Mum's downstairs and seems to be upset - I thought it best if you went down to her, rather than me.'

'All right, I'm coming,' she'd replied, sitting up, wondering what on earth could be wrong. Perhaps her mum was just having a reaction to her youngest son being married and leaving home for good, sort of empty nest syndrome?

Just as she was about to close the door behind her and join Priscilla who was waiting at the top of the stairs, she'd heard Dean call her name in a sleepy voice.

'Go back to sleep, honey - I won't be long,' she'd whispered before closing the door.

She and Priscilla had crept down the stairs, not wanting to wake anyone and as they reached the bottom, Ginny heard the sound of crying - only it was coming from outside the back door, which stood partially open.

She and Priscilla exchanged puzzled looks. 'She was just here a second ago,' whispered Priscilla, 'I don't know why she'd want to go outside - it'd be freezing out there.'

As they both pulled their dressing-gowns tightly around them in anticipation of the chill night air, they quickly made their way to the door, Priscilla pulling it open and stepping outside.

'Here she is,' Ginny heard her say as she followed her out.

Ginny barely had time to register the shock of seeing not her mother, but some strange man in a black hooded cloak, before he grabbed her and she felt the squeezing sensation of Apparition.

It hadn't taken too much thinking for Ginny to realise that Priscilla was either not Priscilla or had been under a spell - more than likely the Imperius Curse; she would've easily been the most vulnerable as she had the least exposure to the Wizarding world of everyone in the house and she was sleeping alone. But she'd had no idea who it was that had brought her here or even where "here" was until Lucius Malfoy had walked into the room.

He stood there, a maliciously satisfied grin on his face, gloating.

Ginny knew she'd given away her sense of horror at the sight of him when the grin dropped instantly from his face and his expression filled with hatred as he looked at her.

'Have I changed that much?' he asked, his harsh voice grating on her ears. When Ginny didn't answer, he gave a short, jarring laugh. 'That's right, you can't speak, can you?'

Ginny tried to fill her gaze with loathing and disgust and indeed it wasn't hard given that Lucius Malfoy was no longer the coldly handsome man he'd once been. His long blonde hair was still evident - pulled back with his customary green ribbon - but his aristocratic features were now distorted, as though there wasn't enough skin for his face and it was stretched impossibly tight, pulling the facial bones with it; his lips were so thin as to be almost non-existent and his eyes - Ginny shuddered - they were still human in shape, but their colour was a hideous red - the colour of old, dried blood, both the irises and the whites.

'You'll have a visitor tomorrow. I imagine he's consorting with your traitorous family and friends trying frantically to devise some way of freeing you. But it won't work - the Dark Lord taught me well; the best way to control people is through their virtues and vices and you are both for Draco.'

Draco! Ginny's eyes widened reflexively.

'Yes, Draco,' said Lucius in response to her expression, 'my disowned, pathetic son who loves you.' He sounded disgusted even as he said it. 'So naturally, he'll do anything to prevent harm coming to you.' Malfoy's hideous mouth was once more stretched into a cruel smile. 'And your filthy Mudblood friend will nobly agree to do anything to help you and of course,' the smug satisfaction in his voice as he continued speaking was sickening as was his expression as he spat out the next word, 'Potter will likewise do anything for his Mudblood girlfriend. He's even going to have to force himself to ignore the warning of his precious Charm.' This thought seemed to be particularly pleasing to Malfoy.

Ginny's mind was working wildly. He was getting Draco here? And Hermione? And Harry... Harry. Harry would stop him. Ginny felt troubled though - would Hermione simply come because she, Ginny, was under threat? Ginny closed her eyes. Of course she would. As she opened her eyes, she saw that Malfoy had turned to leave but he spoke to her once more over his shoulder before closing the door.

'You see, don't you? That they will come - for you. I will have them all here, right where I want them.'

Dean. At least he didn't want Dean. But still, Dean would come if he could, she knew. She felt the pulsing knot of tension that had taken up permanent residence in her stomach twist, causing her physical pain at the thought of Dean and what he was going through - and her parents - her brothers - what about Ron and Luna? Were they still on their honeymoon? - Harry and Hermione - Neville and Priscilla -Neville would be at the Ministry working feverishly to find her, too. The whirl of turbulent thoughts made her head throb and it was quite some time before she eventually drifted into an uneasy sleep.

*

When Ginny woke the next morning it was to see the house-elf standing patiently on the chair beside the bed with a tray of food. As soon as he saw she was awake, he jumped down, putting the tray on the bed, running to draw the curtains before coming back and levitating her once more into the chair where he fed her the cold toast and pumpkin juice he'd brought. He then took her to the bathroom before returning her to the chair, immobilised once more and alone with her thoughts.

She was brought no lunch and was feeling extremely hungry when it began to once more grow dark, her eyes shifting eagerly to the door when she heard it open. But instead of the little house-elf, it was Draco Malfoy standing there. She could see his father behind him but they didn't come into the room.

Ginny sat there, her eyes locked with Draco's for a few seconds before his father pushed him aside and pulled the door closed leaving Ginny to wonder what on earth could have been the purpose of that - unless it was so that Draco could see she was there and still alive. As Ginny decided that must've been the reason, the door opened again, only this time it was the little house-elf with her meal of left overs. He followed the same routine and a little while later she lay on the bed, listening as he left, closing the door behind him. She wondered dismally what the next day would bring and felt heartsick at what Dean - her parents - everyone must be going through. Did they know where she was? And what was going to happen? Surely Malfoy wouldn't simply keep her here, like this, indefinitely? Only until he had everyone there that he wanted. He had her. And Draco. Would Hermione be next? Or Harry? When she became sick of travelling in endless circles inside her mind, she willed herself to fall into what proved to be a fitful and restless sleep. It was broken up by many strange dreams and she woke the next morning with a feeling of pending misfortune; she thought later that it was as though she'd had a premonition the new day would see her live through another waking nightmare.

*

After the house-elf departed the next morning, following what had already become an established routine, Ginny sat in the hard wooden chair, her eyes closed as tears trickled down her cheeks. She wished something - anything - would happen. She felt as though she was going crazy with this endless waiting...endless nothing...

'Feeling a little sad, are we?' came Lucius Malfoy's mocking voice, startling her; she hadn't heard the door open.

As Malfoy moved into the room she caught sight of Draco behind him. Lucius gestured imperiously to his son to come in and shut the door, which he did.

Ginny felt trepidation creep over her. Now that something was happening, she suddenly found herself wishing it away.

Lucius walked to the writing desk and turned the chair around to face Ginny, sitting down smoothly, one elbow resting on the desk, gesturing again to his son to take a seat. Draco did so, in one of the armchairs placed around a low table. He hadn't looked at Ginny once since entering the room and this, for some reason, increased her trepidation.

'So, Draco,' said Lucius conversationally, 'this is the woman you love?'

When he received no answer, Lucius lazily drew his wand from his robes and pointed it at Ginny.

Ginny felt the pain of the Cruciatus Curse hit her, her own scream reaching her ears at the same time as she heard Draco yell, 'YES!'

The pain stopped immediately and she opened her eyes to see Draco on his feet, looking at her with pleading and remorse in his grey eyes.

'You will answer when asked,' Lucius advised his son in a clipped tone.

Draco dropped back into his seat, nodding wearily.

'Of course you will. Because you can't bear to see her in pain. It's so easy, really.' Lucius sneered. 'So, this is the woman you love,' he repeated; it was a statement, not a question, but Draco quickly said "yes", nonetheless.

Lucius sneered again. 'And you gave her your mother's roses? The ones I created especially for Narcissa?'

Draco managed to stop himself just in time from asking his father how the hell he knew that and said instead, 'Yes.'

'Must've been rather interesting for you, traitor,' said Lucius, turning to look at Ginny. 'Especially considering you have no romantic feelings for my son. She doesn't love you, does she Draco?'

'No.'

'Of course she doesn't. How could she? You're not worth loving - you don't deserve it. Do you?'

'No.'

Ginny, despite her hatred for Draco, felt intense loathing for Lucius' deliberation humiliation of his only son.

'Have you kissed her?'

'Yes.'

'Did you enjoy it?'

'Yes.'

Ginny closed her eyes. She had a fleeting thought that the few seconds' worth of pain Lucius had inflicted was somehow less horrible than this ghastly conversation.

'Have you made love to her?'

'No.'

'Perhaps in your dreams?'

'Yes.' Draco's voice had become more ragged with each answer. Ginny could do nothing except keep her eyes closed so she didn't have to see - but she couldn't prevent herself from hearing.

'Did she enjoy it?'

Ginny heard Draco draw a shuddering breath and fearfully opened her eyes, wondering if perhaps Lucius would consider this a non-answer. She felt relief when Draco said through clenched teeth, 'Yes.'

With surprising speed, Lucius left his seat and pointed his wand once more at Ginny who steeled herself for another onslaught of vicious pain even as she saw Draco jump up, taking one step before realising what he was doing and stood still.

Then Ginny became aware of the most glorious feeling of freedom and floating and suddenly she had no worries, just a gentle, pervading sense of happiness, only dimly aware now of where she was and who was with her. For instance, who had shouted "no"? Not that she really cared because after all, it didn't really matter...

Then she heard another voice. Draco. Who said that? Draco loves you very much. I know, she thought happily, no longer caring whose voice it was. It's wonderful that Draco loves you. He wants to show you how much he loves you. It makes you happy that Draco loves you - it makes you happier than you've ever been. Yes, it does. It is wonderful! Ginny smiled. She'd never felt happier or more relaxed. Stand up and walk to Draco - you see him standing there, waiting for you? Oh yes, there he was. She stood up and stumbled a little, forgetting it had been a long time since she'd taken her own weight. But that didn't matter either and it passed quickly. She moved slowly forward, a dreamy smile playing about her lips. It was wonderful that Draco loved her and it did make her feel incredibly happy. Of course it does. In fact, you'd really like nothing better than to kiss him. That would make him very happy. Happy was good, happy was wonderful. You'd really like to kiss him now, wouldn't you? Oh, yes! Then everyone would be happy and that would be wonderful! Very good! Just put your arms around his neck - that's it - he can't wait for you to kiss him now -

Draco stood and watched helplessly as Ginny, under the influence of the Imperius Curse, rose unsteadily from her chair, stumbling a little on the first few steps, before walking slowly towards him, a blankly smiling expression on her face, her eyes fixed on him. When she was in front of him she brought her hands up to rest lightly on his chest as she smiled vacuously up at him, then with slow, sinuous movements, slid her hands up and around his neck, her smile slipping away and leaving her lips slightly parted; he could feel her warm breath on his mouth and closed his eyes. His father had indeed found an exquisite form of torture for him. He could feel the loathing for his father writhing inside him for making such a mockery of his feelings for Ginevra - he would enjoy killing him when the time came.

Draco tried to keep his feelings at bay, tried desperately to think of this as his father's "puppet show" - but the second that Ginny's lips touched his and he felt her soft, warm, open mouth beneath his own, he was lost. The feel of her lean, lithe body under his hands - hands which seemed no longer to be in his control - was his undoing. As his hands roamed feverishly along the curves of her side and up her back before finding their way into the long, tangled golden-red locks of her hair he felt as though a floodgate had been opened; for so long he'd dammed up every little feeling and every ounce of his desire for this woman and now - now she was kissing him - really kissing him! - and he didn't want it to stop and he didn't want to go back to a world where this would never happen...but with a gut wrenching pull, he knew that it wasn't real and would never be real and he felt despair rip at his heart even as he revelled in the ecstasy her touch brought him.

As their lips parted and she looked up at him with her clouded eyes, smiling, he thought he wanted to be sick - but whether because of his father's manipulation or because he wanted, in some small corner of his mind, for this pretence to continue, he wasn't sure.

'Ginevra...' he whispered so that even his father couldn't hear.

She smiled that ghastly vacuous smile again as she listened to that voice in her head. 'Draco? Draco - please kiss me again.'

Draco knew that he would - that he was incapable of refusing her and felt a burning shame that he didn't have the willpower to turn down this opportunity to hold her and touch her, have her kiss him as if of her own free will...

Then Ginny felt as though she was plunged into a tank of ice cold water and with her lips just about to touch Draco's once more, she felt a sense of release and heard Lucius Malfoy's hatefully mocking laughter ringing out.

She immediately pulled her arms from around Draco's neck as though burnt and stepped back, a look of repugnant horror on her face; she couldn't help but feel as though she'd betrayed Dean, regardless of the fact that Lucius had forced her to do so with the power of the Imperius Curse. She felt sick at what she'd been made to do, but before she could say a word, she found herself back in the chair, magically bound physically and verbally once more while Draco followed his father out of the room. Feeling utterly exhausted from her ordeal and more miserable than she thought was possible and despite sitting upright in her uncomfortable chair, Ginny found herself falling into a troubled sleep.

*

As Ginny drifted into her troubled sleep, Harry and Hermione Apparated back to their flat after the meeting at the Burrow during which Professor Dumbledore had announced that Hermione had to be at Malfoy Manor the following evening to prevent Lucius Malfoy from carrying out his threat to kill Ginny and Draco.

Aside from the profound effect the idea of harm coming to Hermione had him, which was almost equalled by the thought Ginny being hurt, he found he couldn't care less about Draco Malfoy.

But above all this, while he could not stop Hermione from going, he had to deal with the idea of letting Hermione go. And as Professor Dumbledore had warned him, he must ignore the activation of the Cautus Contego Charm that would surely occur as soon as Hermione arrived at Malfoy Manor. He told Harry he must stand there, knowing she was in danger, but ignore his ability to Apparate to her side for that short period of time. It was proving to be one of the hardest things he'd ever faced in his life. It went against every single instinct and desire. Given the circumstances, he didn't know if he would be able to see her off, simply stand there as she left, knowing he would receive a warning soon after that she was in danger which he had to ignore and still continue to function properly. He was being forced to contemplate losing Hermione: she who was the one and only human being on the planet who gave his life meaning, continuity, security and love - Hermione and their relationship and their life together had become his reason for being and if he lost her... it was like looking into a bottomless black hole.

And so, after their meeting with Dumbledore, Harry felt a resolve fall into place - a resolve to take and use these last hours they would have together before she left and turn them into a wonderful memory, full of meaning and full of life; it would be impossible to forget them. And as he came to this decision he waited until Professor Dumbledore had left, then asked Hermione to come home with him - telling her he needed this time alone with her, adding that they could both Apparate to the Ministry tomorrow morning.

Hermione didn't consider refusing Harry for even a second and so shortly afterwards they Apparated home, ready to spend the rest of that day together, Harry refraining from voicing his worst fear - that this may be their last.