Antithetical

as far as you take me, that's where i believe
the realm of soft delusions, floating on the laves
on a distant shoreline, she waves her arms to me
as all the thought police, and closing in for sleep
the dilly dally, of my bright lit stay
the steam of my misfortunes
has given me the power to be afraid
and in my mind i'm everyone
and in my mind
without a care in this whole world
without a care in this life
it's what you take that makes it right
porcelina of the oceans blue
in the slipstream, of thoughtless thoughts
the light of all that's good, the light of all that's true
to the fringes gladly, i walk unadorned
with gods and their creations
with filth and disease
porcelina, she waits for me there
with seashell hissing lullabyes
and whispers fathomed deep inside my own
hidden thoughts and alibis
my secret thoughts come alive
without a care in this whole world
without a care in this life
it's what you take that makes it right
and in my mind i'm everyone
in my mind i'm everyone of you
you make it right
it's all allright
you make it right
porcelina of the oceans blue

~ Smashing Pumpkins - Porcelina of the Vast Oceans

In Which Light Is Shed On The Past

After some countless hours, Yvette fell deaf to the scuttling noises of the furry beasts that kept her company in the dank imprisonment. She patted the black-spotted straw beside her, vainly attempting to make the moldy pile comfortable and free of other living creatures. Brushing her hair from her eyes, she lowered herself to the makeshift pillow as her mind wandered back to the first time she had seen the manor.

Her life had been a roller-coaster ride from the very beginning - born to a Death Eater and a disowned half veela. Her father was murdered the year Voldemort vanished, leaving his bride and one-month-old daughter penniless. For thirteen years, her mother, Vianne, managed to scrape together a living in France, but life at Beauxbatons was not for a poor girl without a stable home. As their finances dipped below rock bottom, her mother resorted to their last hope - the Malfoys.

They had arrived at the castle gates -their few belongings stuffed in undone bags- and requested to see Lucius Malfoy, the brother of her long dead father. His response had been simple: they could have a roof over their heads if they worked as servants.

Until Draco Malfoy came home from school, they did this without incident, keeping the secret of Yvette's Malfoy blood hidden from the household. Frequent confrontations between father and son led to increased tensions in an already strict and frigid atmosphere. And as times worsened for the Death Eaters, so did Lucius's temper. His visits to the wine cellar became regular and he was often found drinking through the afternoon and night.

On the dusk of one of these long afternoons, the door to Yvette and her mother's servant quarters slammed open to reveal a drunken Lucius Malfoy. The collar of his robe was loosened and alcohol's telltale stench surrounded him. He stumbled into the room, eyeing Vianne hungrily.

"Good afternoon, Vianne," he slurred sickeningly.

She did not answer him, but rose calmly to her feet. "Leave the room, Yvette."

"Mais, Maman-," she began, eyeing Lucius distrustfully. Vianne glared at her and nodded towards the door. Yvette didn't speak, but glared back, refusing to abandon her mother.

Lucius, unaware of all this, grinned maliciously at his target. Swaggering his way towards her until he loomed over her petite frame, he sneered into her face, "My brother's little whore. You - you're barely even a witch, you veela-mudblood piece of trash."

Yvette's lips pursed into a thin line and her hands clenched into fists. Her mother was in every way better than the tyrant in front of her, but yet she was at his mercy because she wanted a better future for her daughter.

"Lucifer would have never looked twice at you if you weren't an easy lay with a pretty face." He chuckled, raising a hand to stroke Vianne's expressionless face. "How does that feel, my dear? To know that your only worth is a set of blue eyes? What would you do if they were gone?" His fingers clenched on her throat, drawing a gasp from both her and her daughter.

Yvette trembled in fear and anger. Her mother, her only true family left, stood defenseless in front of Voldemort's most prized Death Eater.

"My brother was a fool." Lucius lurched forward. "He gave up the Malfoy fortune, all the royal blood and glory for you."

Vianne backed away slowly, motioning frantically for Yvette to leave. Her daughter remained rooted to her spot, a look of terror plaguing her face.

"You're pleasing to the eye, of course, being the unnatural creature that you are," he continued. "But I'm still unclear as to why he would taint our pure blood with your's to create that child." He waved his arm vaguely in Yvette's direction. Infuriated, Vianne raised an arm to slap him, but he caught it sharply in spite of his intoxicated state. "I guess I just have to find out your charm for myself." He smirked nastily before mashing his lips painfully against her's. The taste of vomit and vodka filled Vianne with nausea as her eyes flew open with alarm. Oblivious to her daughter's terrified screams, his hands groped her poorly clad body relentlessly and his heavy, drunken frame forced her violently to the ground. It wasn't until the Veela's nails dug sharply into his flesh that he pulled away.

"Filthy bitch." He looked down and fingered the blood spilling down his chest. His wand snaked shakily to her throat, the cold wood threatening to crush her delicate bones. "Crucio," he slurred hatefully, his blurred eyes focusing for a moment into a steely gaze.

The temperature in the room dropped as the words were uttered. Yvette froze, her doe-like eyes wide with horror. She wasn't sure if the cry of anguish came from her or her mother but she found herself throwing her body into the blinding sapphire light at the hazy form who cast the spell. The light faded and icy air clung to her breath as she tackled him to the ground, beating him with the candlestick that somehow found its way into her hands. Her mother lay frighteningly still and her tears froze as they slid from her green eyes.

Lucius flung Yvette to her knees, grabbed her by her collar and wrenched the candlestick from her grasp. "Get out," he ordered.

She threw herself at him in a blind rage, managing to knock the wand from his grasp.

"Stupid girl," he sneered, slapping her so hard her head rocked back on impact. "You think you can hurt me, the worthless mongrel that you are?"

"Worthless? Even with my Malfoy blood?" she spat.

Lucius's eyed narrowed, as if she were a rat he caught contaminating his most precious possession. He dragged her along the floor and shoved her forcefully out the door, slamming it after her. She hit the oriental tiles of the kitchen floor, her head smashing dangerously into the opposing wall. After a stunned moment, all the pain from Lucius' blows seemed to strike her at once. Vaguely, in all the throbbing aches, she heard the door's lock click shut. Rubbing the back of her head where a bruise was beginning to form, her eyes blinked open to the sight of black boots and designer robes. Wincing, she forced herself to stand.

"Are you alright?" the young Malfoy asked her.

"Draco!" she cried. "Wha-...why are you just standing there! Why aren't you helping us?"

He stood unshaken, staring coldly down at her. He stepped around her to sit at the kitchen table. "This has happened before, you know. What makes you and your mother any different? I've never helped any of them." His voice was soft, empty of guilt or malice, like he was telling someone their scarf was lost.

She spun around and faced him, her jaw clenched angrily. Her grey eyes glared into his, their pupils matched in shades of grey like stormy skies reflecting into a cool, clear pond. Somewhere inside the room, a vase broke and Lucius's yelling drowned out Vianne's sobs.

Yvette inhaled shakily to contain her fury. "You're not a child anymore! You have a wand, a mind of your own, eyes of your own!" She grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "What's wrong with you!"

He frowned and brushed her hands off his shoulders. "Don't touch me."

"Shut up, Draco. Whatever you think I am, I'm still your cousin."

He paced away from the table, his boots gently clicking on the tile. "That's my father in there. I would never choose to protect some nameless servant over my own flesh and blood."

Yvette stared at him blankly before he turned sharply on his heel and left the room without another word. She clenched her fists tightly and ran after him.

"Who do you think you are?"

He turned to face her in the dimly lit hall. "I'm a Malfoy."

"That's it? You can define your entire existence with your last name? Let me tell you who you are. You are a little boy, you are a coward. Like it or not, the woman your father is beating is your aunt and my mother. You have it in your power to help us, but you're too busy drowning in your little frozen Malfoy lake. And if you don't change right now, you'll become just like that lunatic in there. The one who drinks his life away to forget his mistakes, the one who terrorizes others to make himself feel powerful. He lives on that power but never feels secure because he knows that despite it all, he's still just a puppet of the Dark Lord. So he beats his son to vent all that lifelong rage. Is that who you want to be Draco Malfoy? You're smart enough to make your own decisions. But right now, I see you becoming him. You hang on to his every poisoned word, because you're stuck wallowing in a gold-paved pit of fear. Even when someone tries to help you, you can't accept their help because you are too scared. Maybe, you've finally convinced yourself that you enjoy your velvet imprisonment, I really can't tell anymore."

"Is that what you're doing?" he asked quietly. "Are you trying to help me?"

"I tried, Draco," she said sadly. "But, since you are not willing to return the kindness, it's apparent you never accepted mine. I need your help right now. Don't you see?"

"I've already told you. I can't help you. I won't." He paused to look straight into her gaze. "I'm...I'm sorry."

"You owe me forever then," she whispered. The room was silent now except for faint sounds of her mother's sobbing, muffled by the manor walls. Yvette stared numbly at the large expanse of tile for a moment, her stupor broken by a scream. She sighed in frustration. Her heart was beating rapidly, her head spinning in rage - she had to do something. There was still one more person left to go to. Yvette ran out of the kitchen and up the long winding staircase. She often found the manor's mistress sullen and tight-lipped on the second floor's west wing on afternoons such as these, silently busying herself at inane tasks while Lucius drank. She secretly wondered if her aunt was blind to her husband's blunders, or simply complacently indifferent as if a mask of expensive lace shielded her pale sky-blue eyes from the truth, to keep them frozen with the same empty ice she found in Draco's gaze.

"Madame Malfoy," she cried, as she reached the top stair. "Come quickly! Please. Lucius..He's..."

"What is it?" a cold, refined voice resounded from the drawing room.

"He...," Yvette fell silent, as the tall, graceful figure stepped out into the carpeted hall.

"Is he alright?" Narcissa asked softly, standing straight and demure in all her delicate china-doll beauty.

"Yes..I mean...No..I-," she stopped again. "Please, I need you to come with me."

"Are you ordering me?" A touch of trained venom was embroidered in her tone, but Yvette knew better.

"I am not ordering, you, Aunt Narcissa. I am asking you, politely. Please come with me. My mother's life is in danger and you are obligated to help us."

"I am under no obligation."

"Your husband is viciously taking advantage of my mother, Vianne - your sister-in-law, and he has in fact, taken advantage of many innocent women. You are obligated to insure the welfare of your servants, the welfare of your marriage, as well as the well-being of your own sanity. I do not understand how you and your son can stroll about this house with your ears shut and vision glazed with indifference. And in all honesty, I don't care anymore." She sighed, suddenly exhausted. "Please. Make him stop."

"I didn't know Draco was aware of this," Narcissa murmured. "I didn't think Lucius would have been so careless." For a moment, Yvette thought she would return to the drawing room without another thought.

However, the mistress swept gracefully past her down the stairs and entered the kitchen. Yvette didn't follow. She couldn't bring herself to enter the room, too afraid of what she might see.

They left the manor that evening. Vianne refused to tell her daughter what occurred in the tiny servant's quarter they had shared and Yvette didn't want to know. She often thought about her father and what kind of man he had been. How did her mother fall in love with a Malfoy, a person bred and raised in that grandiose manor, a person brother to Lucius? Either way, they resolved to never return, to the manor or to the twisted clutches of the Malfoy family.

She smiled wryly into the pile of straw. The irony of it all....

******

They were alone in the Gryffindor common room, which hadn't been a rare occurrence in the past week as most of their peers were home for the holidays. Hermione glanced up at Harry and smiled, cozy and content nestled in his arms. The fire's warmth tinted his cheeks pink and he was as adorable as ever with his translucent skin, startling green eyes, and messy black hair. He smiled back at her when she reached up to fix his crooked glasses. They resumed reading, lost in the comfort of the moment. Neither one felt Ginny's frantic presence. Hermione was the first to notice due to the fact that something was blocking her light.

"Oh, hello Ginny," she looked up.

The other girl began to wave her arms crazily - pointing at the fire, clutching at her own hair, then opening and closing her palms.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, worried. "Do you need to go to Madame Pomfrey's?"

Ginny ignored him, her eyes glazed with frenzy. She kept mouthing and motioning something they couldn't understand. Finally, she smiled scarily and scampered up to her room.

They sat very still for a moment.

"Well," said Hermione, wincing as Ginny slammed her door shut. "That was certainly strange."

Harry nodded, still staring at the spot Ginny had stood.

The fire's crackle reigned over the silence between them until Hermione shut her book and turned to Harry gravely. "Do you think it has something to do with the curse?"

"For the last time, there is no curse," he said impatiently. "Malfoy and Ginny are not secretly engaged and their families aren't going to die a slow and painful death. I mean, the very idea is impossible. It-"

"Why is it impossible?" she cut him off.

"Well-,"

"Let's for a moment pretend that my laughable idea was true. Wouldn't it make sense? Dumbledore pairing Ginny up with Malfoy for the detention committee, Ginny fainting out of the blue not once but twice, Ginny coming down here like that and acting like a chicken gone -"

"If there was a curse this major, wouldn't Ron have told us about it?"

"What if Ron doesn't know?"

"True, but...Ron doesn't know about his own family curse, but Dumbledore does?"

"Dumbledore knows the history of magic better than Ron. Take this seriously. You don't know that-"

Ron wandered in through the common room portrait, with the eyes of an abandoned puppy. "Do you two know where Yvette has gone? I've been looking for her all day."

Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance and shook their heads.

"Do you know where Ginny is, then?"

"I think Ginny is up in her room. I haven't seen Yvette this whole day. I thought she was with you. Where've you been Ron?"

Not bothering to answer Harry's question, Ron shot up the stairs and banged raucously on the dormitory door. "Open up, Ginny!"

****

Draco restlessly roamed the halls somewhere outside the Gryffindor Tower. He didn't know its exact location so he assumed he was close enough. The three people he usually saw too much of seemed to be eluding him today.

"Draco, are you lost?" the singsong voice of Pansy Parkinson drifted up the staircase to the platform where Draco stood. He froze, unsure if he could pretend he hadn't heard her. Pansy's voice wasn't as bad as he would have described it, but over the years the girl's high-pitched tone grew as irritating as a hated alarm clock's dredded rings.

"What are you doing up there?"

Draco groaned, his hand reaching back to run through his fine blonde hair. This, or rather she, was not what he needed right now. He slowly turned, his eyes meeting hers coolly.

"Why would that be any of your concern?"

She paused, her lips opening and closing slightly from the shock of his obvious hostility.

"Well, Pansy?"

"I'm leaving for winter break and I just wanted to tell you that I won't be here for the winter ball... in case you were planning to go with me," she replied evenly.

Draco stared at her and chuckled, actually surprised for once. The pathetic day to day worries of her life were suddenly more insignificant than ever.

"Pansy, for your information I would never contemplate asking to endure your company for an entire evening."

She drew back as if slapped, a hateful glare creeping over her face. "It's because of that Weasley girl, isn't it? You never treated me, a fellow Slytherin, like this until she came along."

"Like what? Sorry to break it to you, but I wouldn't be interested in you if you were the last girl on the face of this earth."

She gritted her teeth. "You pathetic bastard... I would have never thought I'd see the day that a Malfoy would be whipped by a little Gryffindor." Pansy smiled nastily. "I wouldn't want to be seen with you anyway, a disgrace to your house and family." She sniffed, tossing her scarf over her shoulder.

Draco stiffened, his Malfoy pride smarting from the blow. Upon reflection, he smiled inwardly, perfectly aware that this was the time to be rid of Pansy once and for all. "Am I a disgrace to my family? Well, not as much as a sniveling, spineless sycophant is to the Slytherin house. Whatever you may choose to think of Ginny Weasley, know that she's better than you'll ever be. At least she doesn't lap up the dogma of anyone with more popularity, wealth, or whatever superficial trait it is that you value. We're finished Parkinson, though I don't remember ever starting. Go home. Good-bye. Enjoy your vacation."

He smirked as Pansy wilted under his rebuttal. She looked up at him with bitter longing, fear, and something he couldn't read. Whatever it was, it was covered up by her usual artificial smile. "Oh, Draco, darling," she cooed. "You laugh because you think I'll wind up on the lowest level of hell someday, but you're laughing too soon. Eventually, you'll be right down there with me, because you'll always be a Slytherin in the end. Like me. We're one in the same, hon. So, have fun playing Potter for the Weasley brat for now. She'll soon find out though - what you really are. You'll want me back soon, and I'll be waiting." She winked haughtily. "Good-bye Draco." She strutted down the stairs and paused mid-step as if something crossed her mind. "Merry Christmas."

"Pansy," he called after her. "I wouldn't wait too long if I were you." Not bothering to wait for her to reply, he turned and stalked away, resuming his mission on finding Gryffindor tower. Despite his careless tone and smug retort, Pansy's words stung. She was right. In the end, he was a Slytherin, because he chose to be. Ginny Weasley was lovely fire, but eventually his ice would drown out her flame. If the curse didn't kill them, they'd both be nothing, empty shells, a pile of ashes dissolving into a puddle of water. If the ritual didn't kill her, then he would eventually snuff all the warmth from her eyes. Right? Perhaps, it was better this way.

*****

Ron walked past the elaborately decorated great hall, irritated by the overpowering aroma of pine wafting from the Christmas trees and wreaths. He sighed. Yvette was still nowhere to be found, missing through breakfast, lunch, and now dinner. After a while, he figured finding Ginny would be an easier task, but she too seemed to drop off the face of the earth.

He exited the hall and found himself face-to face with Pansy Parkinson. She fixed a glare on him, which he returned easily. Ron expected their encounter would be over at that, but then something he'd never seen on her face before appeared - a smile. She made her way to his side, that strange, uncharacteristic grin still stretching her lips.

"Hi Ron, looking for someone?"

He nodded slowly, indecisive as to whether he wanted to continue the conversation.

"Well if it's for your darling little sister, you might want to ask Draco Malfoy, or better yet, check under his covers." Winking sweetly, she slinked past him and continued down the hall.

Once around the corner, she tore down the corridors, bent on the warpath Draco had set her on. She hated him, she hated the stupid red-haired Weasley girl, but most of all, she hated herself. She knew Draco didn't love her, didn't even like her. But she had foolishly hoped he would change, soften to the affection that shone blindly through her eyes. She burst outside and dragged her suitcase behind her to the lake, where a boat would take her to the train station. When he asked her to the Yule Ball in fourth year, she was indifferent to his existence. She had said yes because he was a handsome, a Slytherin, and a Malfoy. She fell in love with him that night. Or rather, she fell in love with the way he made her feel - beautiful, sophisticated, respected, happy, and so much more. He kissed her awkwardly on their way back to the common room, and she saw stars. That night, when she looked in the mirror, her skinny body and oversized eyes reflected a princess as lovely as Snow White. She did everything her mother advised when it came to boys- agree with all the things he said, smile, act superior to other girls. His interest in her waned after a few days, but she was too lost in writing "Mrs. Draco Malfoy" and "Pansy Parkinson-Malfoy" over and over again to notice.

She stared at her reflection in the lake, registering silently that the water never froze this year. Pansy knew she was beautiful, probably one of the prettiest in seventh year. Why didn't Draco love her? She would have given...would still give anything or everything for him. In a way, she had - she lost her happiness for his, his and Ginny Weasley's. Ginny Weasley. Pansy's green eyes flashed jealousy in her reflection under the dusk sky. She hoped Lucius Malfoy would do something horrible to the sixth-year girl. Why should a penniless, muggle-loving Gryffindor get what she could never have? How could a penniless Gryffindor give Draco what she never could?

She closed her eyes as if to shut all her tears inside. They leaked out anyway, running mascara streaks down Pansy's lovely face. She didn't want to go home. She needed time alone, away from Hogwarts, away from her social-butterfly mother and her weak-stomached father. But there was nowhere else to go. She sullenly stared through blurred eyes as the game-keeper, Hagrid, rowed the boat steadily towards the dock. She sniffed and brushed away her tears. Quickly performing a make-up repairing spell, she fluffed out her hair. She was still Pansy Parkinson after all - cute, malicious, and hopelessly Slytherin.

***********

After the shock of Pansy's words dulled, Ron dashed through the halls, barreling into walls and students alike. He had an idea of where to start his search for Ginny - a part of Hogwarts he had only frequented once before, the Slytherin Dungeons. His feet slipped dangerously every step down the staircase and his awkward robes grew increasingly tangled around his long limbs.

"Where are you going in such a hurry, Weasley?"

Ron looked up from the bottom of the stairs to see a certain Slytherin's sneering face.

"Malfoy." His eyes narrowed, obviously suppressing his temper. "Seen my sister lately?"

Draco leaned casually against the stone wall, his form seemed to glow from the candles behind him. "Actually, Weasley, for once, you've come to the right guy."

"Really, and would you please explain to me why."

Draco continued to lean on the wall, head cocked to one side, scrutinizing Ron as if deciphering whether or not he was worthy of the knowledge.

"Probably not, Weasley. At least, not now."

"Not now? Why not?" Ron exclaimed angrily.

"Don't be thick, you bloody Gryffindor. What I have to tell you also needs to be explained to Potter and Granger. So, if you'd lead the way to your common room, then I'd gladly let you in on all the slimy details of what happened between your sister and I."

"Slimy?" Ron looked like he was going to be sick, his pallor violently changing in tints through the various shades of the rainbow.

He smirked. "The faster you move, the faster you'll find out."

********

{A/N: These few perspective changes above and below have probably been a bit confusing, sorry this was two different chapters and we tried to put it together well}

Not bothering to answer Harry's question, Ron shot up the stairs and banged raucously on the dormitory door. "Open up, Ginny! Is Yvette in there?"

Several moments later, he was back at the foot of the stairs. "She's not here."

Hermione stared at the panicking boy. "What does it matter? So, she's not in her room..."

Ron shrugged worriedly. "The door wasn't locked and I found this on the floor." He pulled a crumpled bit of parchment from his pocket and handed it to Harry, who eyed the lump quizzically and unfolded it.

"Meet me at the Transfiguration Room at midnight, Love, Ron."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "You snogged in McGonagall's class room at midnight?? I swear you get turned on by the oddest things."

"I didn't write that!!" Ron said, his blue eyes wide. "We would never snog in the Transfiguration room. Who would...?" His sentence trailed off, his eyes glazed over as if contemplating the idea.

"Right...."

"Wait! I'm serious, Hermione. I think something's wrong! I didn't write that note."

"You think?" A voice marked with telltale sarcasm floated from behind the portrait entrance. "You Gryffindors are thicker than I thought."

Ron groaned his eyes traveling regretfully towards the common room entrance. "Open up Fat-Lady. Periwinkle."

"If you say so..." The dubious portrait slowly swung open.

"What the hell is going on?" Harry's glare moved from Ron to Draco, then back again. "What's he doing here?"

"Show some respect, Potter. I'm doing you the favor of coming to your little hell house to enlighten you."

"With what?"

"Yeah, Malfoy. Get your head out of your arse and get on with it." Ron's foot tapped impatiently on the soft common room carpet. "We're waiting."

Draco leaned on the rose brick wall beside the portrait threshold. "Shut up, Weasley. All you really need to know is that, both Yvette Delacour and Ginny have been taken to Malfoy Manor."

"Your manor...What kind of game are you playing?"

He shrugged. "Wasting time, Weasley. I just told you your girlfriend and sister are in the clutches of a mad man and you're still arguing over details. "

"Details?!? It's your bloody dungeons and your lunatic father that's holding them. How can we trust what you say?"

His eyes narrowed to silvery slits. "Fine, don't listen to me. Keep running circles searching for them. They'll be dead before you realize your stupidity." He kicked angrily at the portrait back. "Let me out, you stupid Gryffindor."

The fat lady squealed angrily and shifted aside. They stared in surprise as Draco stalked out.

Hermione looked worriedly at her two best friends. "What do we do now?"

*******

Ginny evaluated her situation once more: she was blind and cold. Her throat was raw from pointless screaming and she was hungry, having not eaten since morning. She would have fished for the few biscuits and a lock-picking kit in her ugly green coat, but there she was - hands and feet bound to a stone wall. She pounded her head against the jagged rocky surface behind her.

Lucius Malfoy told her everything - solved every riddle that plagued her mind the past few months. She had been so quick to believe his words and now, all she could think of was that Draco Malfoy didn't love her. The slimy prat was only out to save his own stupid, superficial life. She bit her lip angrily. She had told him she loved him. And she had, still did. Choking back a sob she squeezed her useless eyes shut. All those evenings spent together - his crooked smile, his charm, his words, his kisses - it was all to save the bloody Malfoys from some bloody curse.

To Ginny, the faerie who dances in my life.

How could she have been so stupid? He was a Malfoy and she was a Weasley. She was nothing but an over-freckled, over-blushing, muggle-loving, red-haired Weasley. He could never really love her. And now that he managed to deceive her accordingly, she was going to be killed. She was going to die at sixteen in the hands of his father. She didn't know who Clarence Weatherby was, but she was sure she hated him. She was deceived to love someone who could only betray her.

And Yvette - her best friend - was just another deception in the trap. She kicked at the wall, both feet still bound together. A loose pebble bounced across the floor and she followed its progression with alert ears. On top of all that, she had a scratch on her nose. Life couldn't get any worse.

"Well, you seem to have gotten comfortable."

Ginny stared up at the direction of his voice, too blind and drained to muster a glare.

"It's almost a shame to move you." Lucius leaned casually against the cell door, his pose eerily reminiscent of Draco's own. "Come. The ceremony will commence immediately."

******

Yvette slowly opened her eyes, and stared across the richly decorated space. She hadn't been asleep, but still faked grogginess beneath the man's looming shadow.

"It's about time you woke up, half-breed. You are about to witness something amazing."

She glared at the newest of the many guards who watched her every move. Hunched over and hooded, it was impossible to distinguish him from the rest. She was forced to sit at the room's end, beside the large, ornate throne in an uncomfortable, mahogany chair. As a child, she speculated about the room's purpose, arriving at the conclusion that it had been a throne room during the days that the Malfoys were royalty. Draco had told her the Malfoys were still considered royalty, but she hadn't believed him. Her stomach twisted angrily from the haunting familiarity of her surroundings - each chair and candle was positioned at the exact same angle from years before. The only change was the absence of carpet from the sleek stone floor in light of the approaching ceremony. In its place, the hooded guards had crafted a strange pattern of ancient runes, ivy vines, encircled with goblets of thick, red liquid. Large torches provided the only lighting for the room. The curtain had been drawn, shutting out the full moon. They moved her here hours ago and her worries and past demons seemed to intensify with each minute. Not wanting to appear frightened in front of the scrutinizing guards, she feigned sleep.

She sat up straight as the double doors slammed open across the room. Lucius Malfoy entered, followed by slouching, robed men shuffling behind him. She folded her arms and watched his entourage make their way into their places in the dark, beautiful ritual. They formed a semi-circle behind the strange pattern and faced the throne. As the figures scattered, she could see the struggling girl held by two guards behind Lucius. It was Ginny - Ginny was there. Yvette set her jaw and ignored the lump rising in her throat.

"Virginia," Lucius sneered, his eyes fixed on Yvette's own. "Do you know who's here?"

Ginny pursed her lips and glared ahead, refusing to answer.

"Ginny?" Yvette stood up. Her brow furrowed. "It's me, Ginny, can't you see me?"

Her best friend narrowed her empty, still eyes and did not say anything.

"Ginny," she cried. "It's Yvette. Please answer me." Panicked and frustrated, she rushed toward her, only to be held back by guards. Lucius was pointing his wand at Ginny's heart, daring her friend to struggle against their hold.

"Ginny...," she trailed off.

Lucius smirked. "Don't you think she knows, Yvette? I've told her everything."

"Don't believe a word he says! It's all lies -"

"Is it?" he interrupted her. "Why didn't you tell her, dear niece? About your Malfoy father...your whore of a mother. Doesn't your best friend deserve to know your secrets?"

"Ginny, I -"

"I've told her everything - about how you and my son plotted for years to bring her here to die to save the valuable pureblood lineage of the Malfoys. A job, well done...I must commend you on your success, Yvette. Tonight, after Weasley is done away with, we will christen both you and Draco as Death Eaters."

"You - ," Yvette stopped as Lucius neared his wand to Ginny's chest.

"Don't deny it." He waved his free arm to signal the start of the ceremony. "The masquerade is over now, Yvette Malfoy."

*********

Draco banged in annoyance against the Slytherin Cat portrait, jumping into its now familiar mouth. With his trusty broom was in one hand, he mounted it swiftly and sped through Hogsmeade. He arrived at the south end of the forest in record time and dismounted when the trees were too thick for flying. His frustrations increased as he angrily stalked past tree after tree, deeper and deeper in to the forest.

Upon arriving in a clearing, an owl appeared and dropped a package and adjoining letter at his feet. Draco snatched up the letter quickly and broke the seal.

Here is a port key to the Mansion. The ceremony awaits your presence. Do not keep us waiting.

Lucius Malfoy

Draco let the letter drop and it soon burst into the usual green flames. He began unwrapping the package, when a hand grabbed his.

"You're not going anywhere without us."

The blonde boy smiled slowly and turned. "Knew you couldn't keep your nose out of this."

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

"It is a waste of magic to keep you blinded any longer," Lucius said. "Opticus Helaus."

Ginny clenched her eyes shut as an orb of energy began to grow from the centers of her eyes. Tears slipped from the corners of her quivering eyelids and she slowly opened them when the pain stopped. Even the dim light of the candles in the room hurt.

Yvette sat on a plush rug near the head of the room, facing the strange design on the floor. Ginny, herself was kneeling in the middle of the structure, with the assembled death eaters behind her. She could feel magical restraints holding her in place and forcing her to remain placid. The invisible bonds were too tight for her to struggle and so she stared at her best friend, face wiped blank of emotion. In truth, she wasn't angry with Yvette, not really. It was her own fault that she was so easily deceived. In one ironic synapse, she realized the people she had opened herself completely to had all deceived her. There weren't that many - just Yvette and Tom Riddle. They both seemed to understand her so well. They didn't care that she had flaming, red hair, too many freckles, too little sickles, and an eccentric muggle-obsessed father. They didn't care about the superficial qualities that made up her outside - only the pieces of her soul from the inside that she dared share with them. Tom comforted the lonely eleven-year-old girl who felt lost in the shuffle of seven children in a crooked house. He comprehended her emotions better than her own mother or the boy she loved ever would. Yvette had seemed to understand too. Ginny bit her lip. She should have seen it coming. No one wanted to befriend the girl who opened the Chamber of Secrets? Who would? Nobody, except the enemy.

Malfoy. Ginny's heart clenched. How could she have been so stupid? All those years...all those secrets and dumb, girly hopes and dreams. How Yvette must have laughed at the gullible Weasley girl. Was she laughing now?

Lucius stood by Yvette's side, his long hair tied at the base of his neck. Ginny expected him to be staring at her with gloating menace, but instead he watched the massive double doors that enclosed the ceremony in the windowless room. He was waiting for someone, she realized.

The sound of boots clicking on the stone hall outside echoed in her ears, the noise becoming louder and louder. As the immense door swung open, the figure appeared.

Ginny's heart began to pound, and she quieted it ruthlessly, upset at its betrayal of any rationality that still lingered in her thoughts. Her heart still believed that this boy would save her - he who she had grown to care about, even love. Draco stepped forward, looking as faultless as ever. Everything beneath her chest tightened and clenched till even her mind acknowledged the taint her soul felt. The Death Eater's restraints could not keep the tears from glazing over her eyes and she looked down before he could catch her gaze.

"Good evening, father," she heard him say. "I'm here as you requested." It was the same voice that comforted her, the same voice that told her he cared. It was all a lie - one huge, bloody lie to save the bloody Malfoys from hell.

"Very good, Draco. Your fiancée was getting bored without you."

She looked up and his eyes were on her. She tried to catch a slimmer of the warmth in them, the same warmth from when water sprites danced before him in the art gallery. It was all gone as if it was never there at all. Like she imagined the kisses in the alley, the mindball, the glass dragon...

To Ginny, the faerie who dances in my life.

It was never real. And this was the end now. This was real. Her thoughts suddenly flashed to her brother - poor Ron. He was just as deceived as she was. He liked Yvette, he really did. She inhaled shakily. In her first year, she nearly killed because she trusted Tom Riddle's diary. She lost control of herself when scribbling in that dark, little book. He told her what she wanted to hear and let her feel what she wanted to feel. She opened the Chamber of Secrets almost destroying hundreds of lives, because she foolishly succumbed to trust. Sometimes, years later, she would lie in the dark and think about that night - about how everything could have ended right then because of her gullibility. She was so vulnerable, she realized, spilling her secrets to him. Bit by bit, he snatched her soul away until she had no grasp on her own thoughts. After he revealed his true self, she stared into the pitch-black cave ceiling and wondered why it couldn't have been someone else who found a leather diary in their potion's textbook. She wondered what would have happened if she never opened it.

Hello Ginny.

It was so innocent. If she hadn't been so stupid as to trust, she would have never been so fragmented. She would have never so desperately needed Yvette's friendship or Draco's love. They seemed to understand, even when her own family didn't. Her savior in Hogwarts secret chamber had been Harry, but Harry didn't care about her anymore than someone vaguely felt pity for beggars. He had Hermione now, and they would live happily ever after. That had been her life - struggling to be noticed by parents in a crowd of seven children, by Harry Potter behind his best friends, and now, struggling to be loved by someone too cold-hearted to care.

As the pale, expressionless boy strode to his father, the assembled Death Eaters scattered into a series of frenzied actions. Three walked nimbly through the complex ritual design and surrounded Ginny, carefully painting red paste across her palms and forehead. The rest positioned themselves besides the goblets of red liquid surrounding the sand pattern and faced the throne of the ceremony, occupied by Lucius. Draco and Yvette were at his sides.

With a wave of his hand, the symphony of spells began, each one carefully orchestrated by Lucius. The spells intensified into a crescendo of power and murmurs, swarming around Ginny in waves of fire and ice. The crimson paste on her body became streams of lava and hail, swirling into thousands of glowing, infinitesimal swords. They stabbed into her blood, painfully desecrating every cell in her body.

Her bronze hair flew out around her, whipped by an invisible wind. The grains of sand rose into luminescent orbs and the painted lettering on the stone floor shone brightly. The chanting remained steady and as the three Death Eaters stepped back from Ginny, a faint outline of a form began to materialize. Their Dark Lord would soon reclaim his young girl from years before.

Ginny's eyes hadn't moved from Draco's since the start of the ceremony, and she remained expressionless, as if untouched by it all. His fists clenched and unclenched by his father's side. One of his hands slipped into his robe pocket, fingering the almost forgotten mindball.

"Ginny, just hang on. Help is on the way."

She didn't respond to his silent words, but didn't look away.

"Listen Ginny, my father is a liar. Yvette is my cousin, the daughter of my uncle. He was disowned when he married her mother. She wasn't willingly part of any plan to hurt you. Please believe me Ginny...She's innocent."

Ginny's eyes narrowed and her lips tightened. The spell was digging harder into her now, and she couldn't hold it off much longer.

"What about you, Draco? Are you innocent?"

"I -"

The doors that had recently revealed Draco now opened for a very different group. Lucius' eyes narrowed and he poised his wand for an attack. "Continue the ceremony!" he shouted angrily at the Death Eaters. "Well...if it isn't the Boy Who Lived. I should have known that you'd -"

"NOW!" Ginny heard Harry hiss to Ron. The duo stormed in, aiming their wands at the two nearest Death Eaters.

"Stupefy!" The chanting faltered as the men fell and others drew their wands.

"Don't stop!" snapped Lucius angrily. "The Dark Lord is nearly strong enough to finish off the curse." Nevertheless, their job had already been accomplished. A smoky form appeared like steam condensing in the air, outlined in faint red and containing two burning vermilion circles, presumably eyes. A sinister voice from the ethereal, yet all too substantial figure continued the chant. Wisps of silvery tendrils reached towards Ginny, mingling with strands of her hair. She gasped, closed her eyes and arched backwards as it entered her mouth. When she opened them, they were gleaming red, staring blankly at the ceiling. Voldemort was about to possess her once more.

"Ginny!" Yvette burst out of her seat, heedless of Lucius' wand digging into her throat.

"Sit down, you foolish girl. I've won now."

"Protego," the older Malfoy countered and the spell bounced back dangerously to Ron. Luckily, Harry dragged him out of the way.

"Well?" he addressed the Death Eaters. "Attack them!"

Ginny squeezed her eyes shut, trying her best to repel the malicious form from entering her. Draco's voice boomed in her head and she vaguely noticed Harry and Ron fervently fighting the robed figures.

"Hang on Weasley! I'm sorry it had to happen like this. Oh, Ginny..."

He felt Yvette clutching his arm. "Do something, Draco. Why are you standing back?"

He looked into her grey eyes and flashed back to the last time she stared at him with such intensity. He hadn't helped Vianne Delacour that day, because he was too wrapped in selfish fear. He saw the same urgent plea now and shook his head almost sadly. "Yvette -"

"Don't you see it, Draco? She is like my mother...an outsider kind enough to love a Malfoy. My father was brave enough to love her back...but you. You are a coward."

He felt his insides flare up in anger, but said nothing. Her looked at Ginny: her eyes were rolled to the back of her head, her hands balled in tight fists. Potter and Weasley were doing surprisingly well, stunning several Death Eaters, but were faltering rapidly. Weasley's left arm hung limply at his side as if broken and Potter couldn't stand up straight due to a blow to his stomach. Draco panicked, unwilling to fight for either side.

Just then, his eyes fell to mysterious disturbances upon the sand. Even while he watched, fresh footsteps traveled around Ginny. He blinked curiously and made his toward the inomenon. Immediately, the markings ceased to appear. His brow furrowed and he lifted his wand threateningly.

Amidst all the chaotic yells emitting from the Death Eaters, Potter, and Weasley, he heard a faint "Stupefy" from beside Ginny. He immediately ducked and the spell hit Lucius squarely in the chest. As his father keeled over from the impact, he launched himself forward at the formless spell-caster.

"Oof!" He landed atop a solid figure and from beneath him appeared Hermione Granger's head. "Mudblood?" he sneered, pinning her solidly to the ground.

Yvette gasped. "No, Draco, don't!" she cried, but Lucius was quickly recovering at her side, screaming at orders at his fellow Death Eaters.

But as his wand no longer rested on Yvette's throat and she sprung up, tackling him from behind. "Not this time, uncle," she gritted out. He fired curses blindly, vainly attempting to toss her off his back. Like her mother, her veela nails dug intd held on tight.

His cries of anguish mingled with the shouting of curses reached Ginny's ears, but none of it really mattered.

"Hello, Ginny." Tom slowly crept into her, sapping her strength to increase his own. The sensation of him torturously seeped through her mind and she was helpless to stop him.

"Draco?" she whispered. "Draco, are you there?"

He did not answer. Instead, he had rolled off Hermione and hurriedly filled her in on details of the spell.

"Voldemort's spirit was summoned and by possessing Ginny, he can suck away her soul. This would break the Weatherby curse, while also gaining a body for himself. If you perform a Wingardium Leviosa for all the components of the spell, it would disrupt Voldemort's form and concentration. Then I could Avada Kedavra him. It wont kill him since he isn't in corporal form, but it would dissipate what has gathered of him."

She stared at him as if appraising his trustworthiness.

"So, what'll it be, Granger? There's nothing to loose."

She nodded reluctantly and waved her wand over the carefully laid out ritual pattern.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

The chaos stilled in amazement as a gust of wind clattered all the candles, lamps, and goblets of blood towards a vague point in the air. The sand rose, losing its artful pattern while the golden lamps knocked with the multitude of objects. The moment seemed to be frozen in time - Death Eaters closing in on Harry and Ron, Yvette and Lucius in their struggle, and at the center of it all, Hermione, Draco, and Ginny. He raised his arms and focused straight at the burning red orbs.

"Avada Kedavra!" Green light filled the eyes of everyone present, causing many to shield their faces with their arms. Through it all a horrible, high-pitched scream consumed the cool, eerie air. A whirlwind of sand and blood splattered wildly against stone walls and the chandeliered ceiling raining down as the scream and light faded. The pandemonium stilled, all that was left of the ceremony was Ginny crumbling to the ground, arms breaking free from any binds that held them. She lay flat on her back, Draco still holding his wand, pointing numbly at the empty spot in front of her.

"I never thought! My own son!"

Enraged, Lucius threw Yvette to the ground and she landed frighteningly still and silent. He stormed over to Draco, grabbed him by the collar, shook him, and threw him on the floor away from Ginny. He stared blankly back at his father and gave no struggle to his brutality.

"Remember what I said to you Draco when you last defied me?"

He looked up stonily at Lucius. "Of course, father."

"Don't call me that! I am NOT your father! A child of mine would never be a weakling...a traitor."

Silence filled the room. Even Harry and Ron stood still among the Death Eaters and watched the scene.

"Then, maybe I don't want to be your son," Draco said slowly. "That would put an end to the curse too, wouldn't it? If you disowned me."

"I don't want to disown you, Draco," he sneered. "What would people say? There you are again - always thinking about yourself. Do you realize how long I've planned for this? The Dark Lord will not be pleased." He waved an arm at the Death Eaters and they immediately seized Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "No...I won't disown you. It would be better if you died in some tragic accident. The headlines will read 'Draco Malfoy Fell From Broom When Escaping Hogwarts' .... after committing the murders of several of your peers.

"You could have had it all, Draco. The family fortune, the power, the place at the Dark Lord's right-hand side. But instead, you chose...her?" Lucius waved his hand lividly at Ginny's body. "A Weasley? What were you thinking? You bring disgrace to the Malfoy name."

Draco's hands clenched as anger flared up within him. "Disgrace the family name? My whole life, I've only done what you've asked of me father. My entire existence has been spent in your servitude. Everything I've ever done has been for you. Just this once I did what was right for me and not what you -,"

"Don't give me that shit, boy. You only think about yourself. What about your mother? Forgot about her, have you?"

"My mother is too far gone to love anymore. You drove her to that point. You're a pitiful man, Lucius. You've destroyed anyone who's ever cared about you. I don't care if saving this girl botches up another plan for Voldemort, causes you a terminal disease, or even kills me. I'm sick of doing your chores for you, because I know I could end up just like you someday. And that very thought frightens me more than death."

Lucius' cheeks held two blotches of angry red. "Whatever you say, son. I'll be glad to grant you your final wish." He raised his wand, shaking in rage. "Avada Kedavra."

As the green light shot out of his wand, a figure dashed in front of Draco and seized his wand. "PROTEGO!"

The shield glowed and Lucius's eyes widened as the curse rebounded. Within a split second, the swords of intense emerald light blasted back at him forcefully. He gasped when he spell hit him, but stood in place determinedly. Through the brilliant light, his eyes locked with his son's.

"Don't look away, Draco," he whispered hoarsely. "Take care of your mother. Tell her...tell her I'm sorry."

For the second time that day, the jade rays faded and all that remained behind them was the corpse of Lucius Malfoy. Ginny lowered the wand and wordlessly handed it back to Draco. He took it shakily, the warmth of her hands still on it. He walked over to the fallen body of his father and bent down. Lucius' unblinking gray eyes, common to every Malfoy stared up at him vacantly, reflecting his own. Draco swept his eyelids closed, his father's soft eyelashes brushing surreally against his palm. He then rose and turned to the stunned onlookers. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had managed to free themselves from the Death Eaters. They looked at him and he glared back, despising the utter pity shining through their gazes. His father's colleagues had all lowered their wands, unsure of what to do next. The Dark Lord had been banished and their leader was now dead. Hesitantly, Hermione whispered something to Harry and Ron. They spun around to face the handful of Death Eaters left.

"Immobivinias!" they cried and immediately, the hooded, blood and sand dusted figures were suspended by enchanted ropes to the chandelier.

"Just until Aurors can come," Hermione said quietly.

Draco nodded numbly. "You better get the hell out of my house. There are some things about the Manor and its master that I'm sure none of you are prepared to find out."

The trio stared at each other and nodded. Noiselessly, they turned and strode out of the double doors. Ginny still stood by his side, unwilling to leave. Instead, she made her way to Yvette's crumpled body, relieved to find a weak heartbeat. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "Oh, Yvette, I'm so sorry." Weakly, Yvette opened her eyes and lifted her hand to Ginny's cheek.

"For what?" she smiled warmly.

"For doubting you."

Draco gazed at them silently. Everything had changed now. His father was gone. And she had killed him.