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Additonal Disclaimers: I did not write and have no claim to the excerpts from "Once I Pass'd through a Populous City" or "Pale Blue Eyes". No copyright infringment is intended.

Author Notes:

"Thought of you as my mountain top
I thought of you as my peak
Thought of you as everything that I couldn't keep"

--Hole, "Pale Blue Eyes"

For him.

"Day by day and night by night we were together--all else has long
been forgotten by me,
I remember I say only that woman who passionately clung to me,
Again we wander, we love, we separate again,
Again she holds me by the hand, I must not go,
I see her close beside me with silent lips sad and tremulous."

--"Once I Pass'd through a Populous City", Walt Whitman

When you are raised as a Malfoy, you are given very clear instructions on how the world works. You are told exactly what to believe and how to behave. When you follow these guidelines, your bloodline and wealth makes life easy and good. You have everything you could ask for. You are respected, useful; you are a well-fitting cog in the machine that makes wizarding tradition what it is.

But you have to follow the rules. The rules are clear, but never easy. You are allowed to question them, but you must never voice your questions or hesitate to obey the unwritten rules that have been laid out before you.

So, then, why am I here? Her red hair is splayed out against the pillow, and her pale, freckled skin is flushed more than usual. Her breathing is deep and even, her dreams filled with things that I wish she had never experienced. I broke all of the rules for her. All of the things that I was told to obey, all of the things I was told never to hesitate on, all of the things I was told never to believe--she broke all of them.

A Malfoy does not believe in love.

I think back to the first night I realized that an arranged marriage wasn't going to work for me, unless my parents consented to arrange the one that I wanted. We had been meeting in secret for two years. It had started as tutoring--honestly. When we began meeting up, she needed help with Transfiguration, and for the life of me I could not master a couple things in Charms. After I got over the fact that I was being taught proper spellwork by a Weasley, I found her charming, charismatic, intelligent, funny, beautiful...

I lean over and kiss her softly on the forehead and whisper to her.

"I love you."

She barely stirs in her sleep, and I smile, knowing that she is comfortable enough to not be having nightmares tonight. For whatever reason, she feels safer with me around. I have never rescued her, not the way Potter did. I was, however, there for the things he could never understand. The days where she sat alone, shaking like a leaf because she wanted to lash out and hurt somebody. Not just jinx them, or leave them with bruises, but leave them writhing in pain and scarred forever. I was there to tell her that it was okay, that it wasn't her thinking that. It was only the residue of something that she could never control, something she could never ask for. I was the one to hold her and tell her that Ginny Weasley was a good, loving person through and through, and that someday this would fade.

The dark that haunted her was something that Potter had experienced, but could never fully comprehend. He had it forced upon him before he could even walk and talk properly. Ginny had poured her heart and soul out into something she loved and trusted, only to have it thrown back at her and used as a weapon. You tell me which is going to leave more damage.

A Malfoy does not, in any circumstances, allow anyone to see his weaknesses.

I am a Malfoy. I know the position of power that puts me in. No wizard in his right mind would ever really deny a Malfoy. Not if push came to shove. I had seen the way my father dealt with business. He would have someone over two or three times a week. If they were on his good graces, they would stay for dinner. If they weren't, Father would deal with them, and they would leave through the back door. I had always wondered what Father did, exactly. I knew we were wealthy, obviously, and I knew he worked hard to maintain our good standing.

I asked him over dinner one day.

"Father, what happens in your study?" I asked. I was only about seven or eight years old. I had not yet learned about the constant struggle in the wizarding world. I didn't have to, not then.

He gave me a long, hard stare over the dinner Dobby had laid out for us.

"Very well, then," he said at long last. "If you are so curious, perhaps you are ready to see the amount of work involved being a Malfoy."

My mother shot him a warning glance, but he brushed it aside. "If he is old enough to be curious and ask questions, it is time for him to learn the family business."

"Yes, of course, you're right," she murmured.

The next day, I stood in his study, wearing a nice set of robes that made me feel awkward. It was very nice out that day; I remember Father commenting how nice it would be for me to go play outside when I finished my lesson for the day.

The lesson for the day...the phrase sickens me, even now. I remember watching in detached horror as Father beat a man for something he hadn't done correctly. I don't remember the offense now; after awhile, they all started to blur together. But I will never forget the terror on his face, the way he writhed in pain, the blood dripping down his back and onto the wood floor.

Very few people understand why seeing anything in pain bothers me so much. I get nauseated, I get angry, I pass out. I was a bully in school, yes, but I cannot stand the look of agony is someone's eyes. Ginny has stopped allowing me to walk by the Muggle animal shelter. I have to resist the urge to adopt every single creature in there. As it is, we have a dog and two cats. She says that's plenty enough. She brings out my compassionate side, my forgiving side. She reminds me of everything Father told me to deny in myself.

"You do what you must do," he would instruct me time and again. "Do not worry about the pain of others. It is vital that you think only of yourself and your duty. And your duty is to this family."

I watch her breathe evenly, trying to ward off any of the demons that still haunt her. Tom will never truly alone, and the war left scars on all of us that saw it firsthand. She's strong, yes, but I worry about her. She has seen me at my worst. We've had disagreements ending in silly insults and slammed doors. She has seen my biggest weaknesses and still accepts me anyway.

A Malfoy does not betray those his family is loyal to.

The turning point for us came in an unexpected way. Enemy lines had been drawn clearly; we knew it was foolishness to continue to break them. But we did anyway. Somehow Father found out.

He did not scold me or even acknowledge that he knew our friendship existed. He did not hint at it, hold it above me, or even share the information with anyone else inside Hogwarts.

He did, however, tell Voldemort. I was pulled out of my bed at midnight, called to a Death Eater meeting by the burning mark on my arm. Because we had to walk outside of castle grounds, Snape and I were always the last to arrive. This time, however, he refused to Apparate near me. He donned his mask before we left and when we arrived, he quickly joined his place in the circle.

My place had been purposely excluded, leaving me standing vulnerable and unmasked in the middle of the Death Eaters. Voldemort stood there, apparently amused by his latest plans.

"We have assigned you your first mission, Draco Malfoy," he said calmly. "I'm getting fed up with the blood traitors. It's time to remind them of what they are."

My heart started hammering in my chest.

"I believe the first family that must learn their lesson are the Weasley's. Don't you agree?"

I didn't answer him. It was most definitely a rhetorical question. It didn't matter if I agreed or not.

"We'll be attacking in exactly one week. Your job, Malfoy, is to capture and kill Ginerva Weasley. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my lord," I said, forcing myself to remain calm and stoic.

"Do you know the consequences if you fail?" he asked coldly, obviously aware of my distress.

"Yes, my lord," I said again, keeping myself focused on a single rock in the grass.

"Good. You may leave. The rest of us have many things to discuss."

I left.

When I got back to the castle, I sprinted towards the Headmaster's office. It was very late; he should have been sleeping. But somehow I caught Minerva McGonagall coming down the stairs just in time.

"Wait! Professor McGonagall! I have to speak with Professor Dumbledore. It's urgent," I yelled out, out of breath and obviously disheveled.

"Whatever it is, Malfoy, I'm sure it can wait until morning," she said coldly. I think she was one of the few people that knew about my mark.

"Professor McGonagall, please, this is important," I said again. She looked me over with disdain and started to walk away. I ran and stood in front of her. "If you don't let me up there to speak with Professor Dumbledore, I'll find someone who will. I'll ask every teacher, every portrait, every ghost, every student. I'll wake up the entire bloody castle. But I need to speak with him. Please."

"You aren't going to let this go, are you?" she asked, cold and angry.

"No."

"Very well, then." She whispered the password to the gargoyle, and I shoved past her and sprinted up the stairs. I didn't even knock on his door.

"Professor Dumbledore, I have something I need to tell you," I announced. And I told it all to him. I told him about me and Ginny, I told him about the mark, I told him about my mission. I sat, and I cried, and I spilled out everything. When I finished, he sat there silently for a moment.

"Lemon drop?" he asked politely.

"Er, no," I said. "Thank you."

"I'm going to call in the Weasley's, Mad-Eye Moody, McGonagall, and Kingsley Shacklebolt. I need you to tell them what you've just told me. Do you understand?" he asked me. And he did, and I did. I told the entire story, from start to finish, editing out nothing. I finished, staring carefully at the carpet. What would Ginny think? What would her family think? As for the Order of the Phoenix, I fully expected to be thanked for the information and left to defend for myself.

I heard muffled footsteps on the carpet, and I remember thinking distinctly that someone had gotten up to pace.

"Obviously, we need to focus on--" I started. Then I was interrupted by a certain redhead. She put her hand under my chin, lifted up my face, and kissed me in front of everybody.

"Now that that's settled, we can focus on getting something done, don't you think?" she said quietly as she returned to her seat.

You could've cursed me, and I wouldn't have had the brainpower to reach for my wand even if I did know what you were doing at that point. The rest of the room was in a mild state of shock.

"Ginerva Weasley--" said Mr. Weasley in a threatening tone.

"You just kissed--" spluttered Mrs. Weasley.

"Last time our checked, our creed said that we judge people based on their actions, not on their family," said Ginny coldly.

"Well said," said Dumbledore quietly. "Now, then, Kingsley, I'm sure you have an idea to thwart this idea of Voldemort's?"

I am both ridiculously pleased that she made it so well known how she felt about me before we came up with a plan to save her family. I am still picked on endlessly about my speechlessness. It's mentioned at every Weasley gathering.

I stretch. The dark of night is slowly stretching into a gray dawn. I slide one arm around my Ginny and settle down for a few hours of sleep before we have to wake up. I listen to her deep, even breathing as I drift off into blissful sleep.

"I love you," I whisper to her again, knowing that she can't hear me, but hoping my words reach her in her dreams.