Dark Before the Rising Sun

Chapter 10

Ginny sat on the veranda, her sketch pad lying carelessly open on her lap. Draco's villa overlooked the town of Ostia. From where she rested beneath a big, yellow-striped umbrella, the blue Tyrrhenian Sea stretched for miles off the white sand beaches along the coast. A cool breezed tugged at her hair.

"Ginny - there are you are. I wondered where I might find you."

She turned to see her tall, handsome husband walking toward her. She smiled at him, loving the way his eyes warmed in return. "It's such a beautiful day I couldn't stand being indoors. I thought I might sit outside and do a little drawing."

"I brought you some ice cream. Petros" - referring to the ghost butler in charge of this particular estate - "had it made especially for us."

He offered her a small bowl, and setting aside her sketchpad, Ginny took it from him. Seating himselfon a wicker chair opposite her, they ate their ice in companionable silence.

They had come a week ago, as soon as Draco's arm had healed, and as the days slid past, Draco was solicitous but distant. He held her for awhile each night, kissed her goodnight, but made no other move to carry seduction any further.

Ginny loved Italy- the warm sun and the green hills and the friendly people. She was glad Draco had decided to come here for their honeymoon, and she smiled at him from over her bowl.

He tapped his spoon idly against his empty bowl. "I thought we might go out to lunch today, and then there's an art show in Rome. We can Apparate there, have some dinner, thencome home. How does that suit you?"

"Excellently.You're awfully good to me, Draco."

"No better than you deserve," he said, and smiled wolfishly. "I will expect compensation eventually - you are aware of that?" He arched one eyebrow.

Ginny flushed and said nothing.

Lunch was delicious, and she enjoyed it as much as she enjoyed everything else about the country. As they were finishing dessert, she saw Draco stiffen suddenly, and her eyes flew to his face. Two people were approaching the table, but for the life of her, Ginny could not understand why the sight of them had made Draco so tense.

The gentleman was dark haired and blue eyed, and the lady was blond and exquisitely beautiful. Both were dressed impeccably.

Paying not the least heed to Ginny, the woman tapped Draco playfully on the arm, saying merrily, "Oh Draco! Here you are! Someone said that you were visiting in this area, but I never dreamed that we would actually run into you this way! Charles and I have left Londonand are now staying in Venice." She smiled at him archly. "Perhaps you'd like to visit?"

Politely, but just barely, Draco said, "Hello, Betsy - what a surprise to see you here in Ostia." He nodded to the man at her side and added, "And you, Ackerly."

Charles Ackerly, apparently no happier to see Draco than Draco was to see them, said stiffly, "Pleasure."

Betsy Ackerlyand Draco had had a fiery, tempestuous affair some years back, that had only ended when Charles, a banker, had been sent to Italy. But manners dictated that he introduce Ginny, and wishing Betsey and her husband to the devil, Dracosaid coolly, "Allow me to introduce my wife, Ginny Malfoy. Ginny, this is Charles Ackerly, and his wife Betsy, who was an irreparable loss to Englandwhen she left."

The effect on Betsy was stunning. She went white, her mouth almost falling open, while Charles looked extremely satisfied.

"Your wife!" she exclaimed in an ugly, shocked tone. "You must be jesting!"

Dracosmiled. 'No, I assure you, I am not." He stood and pulled back Ginny's chair, offering her his arm. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we're in a hurry to get to Rome."

Practically dragging Ginny after him, he threw several Galleons on the table that would cover the bill and a 50% tip.

***

Both the art show and their dinner was superb, and they Apparatedhome tired and content. Ginny bathed and dressed quickly in a cotton shift, braided her hair, and made her way to the sitting room of their suite.

Dracorose from the sofa and said, "You look like a nun. Some sherry?"

Joining him in front of the fire, she accepted the glass he held out to her, and both of them sat down. They sipped their drinks in silence for awhile, the warmth of the liquid spreading out through her lips, mixing with the gentle heat of the flames. Little by little she began to relax.

"Feeling better?" Draco asked, watching her over the rim of his glass.

Ginny smiled. "Much better."

He moved closer on the sofa, reached out, and caught her chin. A feather-light brush of his lips, once, twice, and again. A long, slow kiss followed, then another. Her tension eased, her body softened, turned warm and languid. He tilted her head the opposite way, kissed her again, and heat filtered into her stomach. Another lingering kiss and it radiated out through her limbs.

His shoulders felt like iron bands beneath her fingers, and she slid her arms around his neck. She thought she heard him make a noise in his throat. He deepened the kiss.

Out of nowhere, the past rose up, slamming into her with painful force. She was back at the Burrow, lying on the hard wooden bench hidden beyond the copse of trees, Luke's heavy weight pinning her down.

Let me go! Stop, Luke, please - you're hurting me! Please - you mustn't -

His hand clamped over her mouth, shutting off her protests. Ginny struggled harder, tried to pull away.

She didn't know when she started to scream.

She simply could not stop.

Not until Dracoroughly shook her, his fingers digging into her shoulders, his voice harsh. "Stop it! Dammit, stop it right now!"

She looked up at him through a blaze of tears, saw that he was trembling nearly as badly as she was. Then he pulled her into his arms.

For a moment, he just held her, his arms wrapped tightly around her, his jaw like iron as she sobbed against him, soaking the front of his white lawn shirt.

His hand moved gently through her hair. "God, I've been a fool."

Ginny barely heard him. She was trying to stop the memories, to control the trembling that still shook her body. She looked up at him through her tears. "What do you mean?"

He brushed her bright hair from her cheeks. "I should have known. I should have guessed from the way you behaved when I touched you." His expression, though still full of tenderness, held an edge of something grim.

Ginny didn't answer. Whatever she might have said jammed tightly in her throat.

"I'm not wrong about this," he whispered. "Am I?"

She swallowed, opened her mouth, but no words came out.

"Who was it? Tell me his name and I swear I'll kill him" She had never seen him this way, a pulse throbbing in his neck, his eyes like blackened pits.

She knew she should say something, but she simply started to cry again.

"Tell me what happened."

"No!"

"You have to. If you don't you'll never be free of it. It will haunt you the way it has for God knows how long."

She leaned toward him, slid her arms around his neck, and for a moment simply clung to him, her face pressed into his shoulder. Her body heaved with sobs, but he didn't try to quiet her, just held her for seconds that stretched into minutes, for minutes that collected into nearly an hour. Finally her crying eased.

"All right?" he asked gently, ignoring her hiccups as she knuckled away the wetness clinging to her face.

"Yes . . . I am all right." She did feel better. And the fact was, Dracowas her husband. He deserved to know the truth. "What happened that night . . . it wasn't really his fault. It was mine. I led him on somehow. I didn't mean to but I did. I made him think I . . . I wanted it."

"Is that what he told you?"

It was exactly what Luke had said. "Yes."

"How old were you when it happened?"

She dragged in a shaky breath of air. "Eighteen."

Dracoswore softly. Though his voice sounded calm, beneath his shirt, the muscles across his chest strained with tension. "Tell me what happened."

"It was Percy and Penelope's wedding . . . the war was still going on then, and she said she didn't want to wait. Everything was so uncertain. I knew . . . I knew he would be coming and I . . . I was so excited. He seemed so wonderful, so handsome and charming. He was years older than I was, a man instead of a boy." She swallowed past the tightness in her throat. "I'd fancied him for months, and I was foolish enough to believe he actually cared for me in return. I dreamt . . . I dreamt that someday we would marry."

Ginny trembled, collected herself, took another long breath. "We danced together that night. When the dance . . . when the dance was over, he asked me to meet him in the gazebo that Dad had built in the copse of trees right behind our house . . . at midnight, he said. It sounded so romantic . . . I agreed."

She moistened her lips, felt Draco's concerned gaze urging her on. "He was waiting for me when I got there. I remember the way he smiled at me. I remember him reaching for my hand. He started . . .started kissing me, and at first I liked it. Then - then he got rough. He started putting - putting his hands on me. He pressed me down on the bench . . . I begged him to stops. It old him he was hurting me, but he wouldn't listen. I tried to fight, but he was so much stronger than I was. He covered up my mouth so I couldn't scream . . ."

She began weeping again and Draco gathered her close, holding her tightly against him. His hand stroked over her hair.

"It's all right, sweeting. It's over. No one's going to hurt you again. I promise you that. And it wasn't your fault. You were just eighteen. He knew that. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing."

Unconsciously, his hold on her tightened. "Why didn't you say anything?"

She stared down at her lap. "I couldn't. After it happened, he said if I told anyone, his friends would say they had also . . . had also . . ." She swallowed, trying to block the memory of Luke's cruel words. My friends will all say they've had you, that you asked for it. They'll tell everyone what a hot little piece you are.

"Tell me his name." The chill in his voice could have frozen fire. She didn't want to tell him. Not now. Not ever.

"No. I don't want any more trouble. I just want to forget."

Dracosaid nothing for the longest time. He drew in a steadying breath and slowly released it.

She swallowed and glanced away. "I'm sorry," she whispered, fighting back tears. "But I loathe the act of loving and always will. I've no passion - do you understand?"

He took her chin in his hand. "That is what you think? That you have no passion?"

She turned her glance away, refusing to look at him. But he turned her fact to his and gently settled his mouth over hers.

It was a soft kiss, unbearably gentle, but Ginny felt it like a warm, teasing wind through her body. His tongue slid along her lips, coaxing them apart. He deepened the kiss, and she found herself clinging to his shoulders, swaying even as she pressed closer against him.

It was Draco that pulled away.

"There is nothing wrong with you, Ginny."

She drew a long, slow breath as he ran a hand through her hair.

"I'll teach you passion, Ginny. I promise you that." He touched her face lightly, standing up from the sofa and lifting her into his arms. He carried her into the bedchamber and settled her in the bed. Wordlessly, he removed his shirt, then climbed up on the mattress beside her. Instead of keeping his distance as he had done before, he pulled her against him, cradling her in the crook of his arm.

Ginny didn't fight him. Tonight she needed the comfort of his solid body. Lying there beside him, she felt cherished and protected, and it occurred to her how much she had come to trust him. No matter what, Draco would never treat her the way Luke had.

"Goodnight, Draco."

"Goodnight, my love."

The endearment washed over her. She closed her eyes, feeling safer than she had in years. It was amazing how quickly she drifted to sleep.