Poisoned

Chapter Nine

Reality strikes during Christmas

Christmas came, and Hogwarts was left practically empty. The latest news from the Daily Prophet had become more and more frightening, and no family wanted their children away from them, for who knew when it could be the last time they would see them.

Although the attacks had become more frequent, they weren't as violent or as deadly as everyone expected them to be. But it didn't calm anyone, and the wizarding world seemed to be holding its breath, waiting for You-Know-Who to show his true colours.

Ginny was supposed to go the Burrow along with Ron, Harry and Hermione, but Draco had approached her the previous week and asked her if she could stay for Christmas. He had sounded so anxious she didn't even dream about refusing. And although he had told her it was because of their lessons, she sensed there was something else he wasn't telling. She asked if she should be worried but he had laughed and said there was nothing to worry about. He just wanted to learn more charms, that was all.

Because many Slytherins had stayed over, Draco and Ginny would spend their days hiding around the castle, most of the time in Ron's dormitory, now empty since all the sixth year boys had gone home. After the accident at Quidditch, they went back to talking to each other and nothing seemed to make them stop now.

Draco had finally confessed he didn't want to spend time with the Slytherins anymore, because his friends would only talk about their fathers, and the last thing he wanted to do was talk about his.

"Father was in Azkaban for what, three weeks?" Draco sat beside her by the dormitory's window. "Yes, three weeks. Two of them during the summer break, so I stayed at home for two weeks without my father." He sighed. "Those were the best weeks of my life. I used to feel guilty thinking that, but not anymore. For two weeks I was free to come and go, free to eat whatever I wanted to eat, talk to whomever I wanted to talk. I even talked to one of our house elves. It wasn't the most pleasant thing I've done, they're so thick, those-" He stopped when he saw the look in Ginny's eyes, and sneered at her disgruntled face. "This is not my war, Weasley, no matter what you think. You may say we're all rotten, trying to end it with all Muggles and Muggle-borns, but I regard that as an ideal, you see? Back to when that was the reason of the fight it wasn't insane. It was pretty much about staying alive."

She gasped, and he continued, this time more fiercely, "What, do you think muggles would live happily ever after with wizards? We are freaks to them, and I'm sure that if they knew about us, many would think we would be better off dead. So we were fighting to be who we are, right?"

"That seems like you're afraid of Muggles!" Ginny exclaimed, disgusted with all he was saying. "What about, instead of killing them, ignoring them? Going on with our lives, hiding from Muggles as we always did?"

"That's the point, I thought that this fight would allow us not to hide anymore. I thought that's what it was all about. I didn't understand that in order to do that, sacrifices would be made.

"Back then, I thought - because my father thought - that certain sacrifices were necessary. But now I think I know better, and I think that certain measures can be used, and certain cannot. I don't agree with the killing. I don't agree with this war, either."

"Why not?" she provoked him. "We'll still hide from Muggles if You-Know-Who loses."

"Yeah, but that's not important, at least not anymore. This war is not about Muggles and wizards now, it's about helping a delusional half-blood gain all the power he can."

"And your father will gain a lot of power too..."

"Not as much. He will always be one of the Dark Lord's minions. He doesn't think that's silly, but I do. I don't want to be a minion."

"What do you want to be, a Dark Lord?"

"Who do you take me for?" he sounded exasperated. "I know I'm not the loveliest kid in school, but it doesn't mean I can kill anyone."

She blinked, amazed. He sounded so disgusted while saying the last sentence that he was admitting he was against everything everyone thought he believed. "You're less like your father than I thought."

"I'm less like my father than he thinks. If he ever knows I'm considering not being a Death Eater, he'll kill me."

The silence fell between them; Draco lost in thoughts, Ginny looking at him still astonished. He had to admit it felt good to get it off of his chest, and he knew he could trust her about keeping it secret. His life would be hell if anyone else in school found out he was not engaged in that cause anymore. His popularity in Slytherin would definitely drop, and he wasn't sure he wanted that after spending so much of that year pretending he still liked his housemates.

"What about your mother?" Ginny asked reluctantly, interrupting his thoughts. "Would she back you up if you told her you don't want to be a Death Eater?"

Draco pondered for some seconds and sighed. "You know, I can't say if my mother is like my father or not. She is usually at home, taking care of everything. She knows what my father is like, and she seems to support him." He finally looked at Ginny. "She always made sure I'd looked and acted like him, so no, I don't think she would back me up."

He smirked after a short pause, "But you know, I don't think my mother wants me in the middle of a war. She had asked me this summer if I wouldn't consider going to Beauxbatons to finish my studies and improve my French."

She gasped, shocked with the thought she would miss him. "And would you?"

"Well, it's not like my French needs improving," he stated with his usual modesty, "but it would be an opportunity of staying away from my father for a while. He will probably expect me to commit more, and I can't escape that staying here." He sighed, deep in thoughts, his voice somewhat bitter. "It's not like I'd have much help here."

The silence fell over them again, until Ginny suddenly remembered. "What about Dumbledore? Can't you ask him for help?"

Draco sneered, although he had thought about it. But he was Draco Malfoy, and he had grown up believing Dumbledore was wrong and should be taken out of Hogwarts. He didn't like the Headmaster, not only because he was raised not to, but because of everything the old man was. Draco couldn't imagine what went on inside his mind, and he didn't like that. He liked to deal with more obvious people, like Umbridge. Sure, she was a nasty hag, but she was a predictable and transparent nasty hag. Draco knew what she wanted and knew how to deal with her; he didn't know how to deal with Dumbledore. Besides, he couldn't imagine how Dumbledore could help him. Lucius was his father and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

So he shook his head and looked outside again. He could feel Ginny's frustration, and he felt frustrated too. He felt he had to be thankful for those moments, when his life seemed to be suspended, before reality came in and ruined everything. And he was thankful; it's just that those moments weren't enough.

"You changed very fast," Ginny commented, her gaze lost in the night sky. "Last year you were a git and seemed quite content with that, and this year you come back and want your life to be different."

"I know. I can hardly understand it myself."

"But you don't do anything to change your life."

"What?" He looked at her, sure she meant that as disapproval despite her soft tone.

"You don't!" she exclaimed. "You're just complaining about everything, posing as the ultimate victim of your father, your mother and pretty much everyone else, but you don't do anything about it!"

"Why do you think I'm putting so much work at Charms?" he spat. "Why do you think I'm going through all the trouble of helping you with Defence Against the Dark Arts and Potions?"

"Because you know you'll need NEWTs to help you to get a job after school," she stated, as if she was stating the obvious.

"No, it's because I'll need NEWTs to build my life away from my father when I'm out of school, that's why."

Ginny looked at his furious face and regretted saying that. He had explained her that once, when they were dinning in the kitchens, but she hadn't believed him then. It was ironic that she believed him so easily now.

"I'm sorry," she finally said after a long pause.

He shook his head and said nothing, but he didn't try to hide how hurt he was, so he decided to hurt her, "I'm not the only one who changed. Look at you; last year you used to hang out with other girls and no one could detach that Corner away from you, but this year you spend most of your time with that lunatic blond and the annoying photographer."

Ginny decided to ignore the way he called her friends and answered, "I don't have much time now. With the studying, the Quidditch practice and our lessons, there's hardly any time left. But I talk to the girls as often as I can."

"And what about Corner?"

"What about him?"

"Was he a short-term thing just so you could make Harry think you didn't care for him anymore?"

He had struck a nerve. Ginny blushed, but decided he deserved the same kind of honesty he showed her. "I liked Michael. But, yes, I was trying to get over Harry, and I thought dating someone else would help it."

"Did it help?"

"Not really. But Harry's mood did. I couldn't stand him shouting all the time and posing as the misunderstood victim last year. I knew he was grieving, but that was too much."

Draco laughed ironically. "Well, your love for Potter overcame many obstacles, then."

"It lasted years without any reciprocity." She laughed along. "That has to count for something!"

Then she stayed in silence for a while. Draco had managed to hurt her, but not as he had planned. What hurt her was the fact that they would talk about their lives and Draco would tell her about how he was revaluating his and struggling to change, but when it came to her, she was summed up by her crush on Harry and nothing else. She felt empty and shallow, so she thought better not to think about it and decided to change the subject. "Isn't it strange to see the castle so empty? I can't believe it when I enter the common room and find not more than a handful of people."

He grunted, but didn't say anything. "Well, I suppose you're not feeling the difference since a lot of Slytherins decided to stay, huh?"

"Not a lot, just fifteen of us." Suddenly an idea came to his mind. He didn't know why he felt like sharing it with her, but he asked her anyway, "Now let me ask you this: how many children of Death Eaters do you think you can find in Gryffindor?"

He seemed to be proposing a challenge. Her first idea was to answer none, but then she gave it some thought. She remembered Draco telling her that there were Gryffindors among the Death Eaters, so she guessed. "I'd say three."

He smirked. "Can you keep a secret?"

She nodded, excited, and he asked, "How many Gryffindors exactly stayed for the holidays?"

"Exactly? I don't know. I've counted six."

"Nine, Ginny," he answered, his eyes glowing maliciously, "and they all stayed behind for the same reason."

Her eyes widened. It was not possible that he meant- "Yes, that's exactly what I mean. We all stayed here because our parents asked us to; they said they would be busy."

"Busy?" Ginny was frightened now. "What do you mean by 'busy'? Are they doing something-"

"No, they're busy with planning and everything." Ginny was so shocked she didn't realise he looked sheepish and didn't face her when saying that. "But among every student that stayed in the castle, I'd say you and other two students are the only ones that were not born into Death Eaters' families."

She thought about the number of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws that stayed for the holidays as well. Although the thought that followers of You-Know-Who surrounded her was more than frightening, she realised what Draco had meant with his speech in favour of Slytherins. They were not so many in comparison to the other houses - even to Gryffindor.

"How do you know that?"

"I can't say I know them all. It's not like we hang out together and plan midnight meetings where we torture small animals and plan to get Dumbledore out of Hogwarts." Ginny blushed. More than once she and her friends had laughed and imagined this exactly type of meeting. He knew that and sneered. "We tried that in our second year, but those meetings always ended up in rounds of poker, so we gave them up."

She looked at him in reproach for mocking at her, but he didn't seem to be joking. "There are several groups among the Death Eaters. Not all of them have direct contact with the Dark Lord; that's just for the ones he trusts the most, or have key positions in the wizarding world, or for someone who screwed up pretty badly. But one always knows other members, and by talking to them you get to know who else is in the other groups. I'm sure there are some Death Eaters I don't know of, but my father never tells me everything, just what he thinks it's safe for me to know." He smiled bitterly. "Even so, I can still give a lot more names than Potter did."

"So why don't you?"

He looked at her as if he didn't believe what she had said. "Do you want me killed?" She shook her head, but he ignored her. "I sure don't. Therefore, I'm keeping it all to myself."

Deciding that conversation had gone too far, he got up. "So... It's Christmas tomorrow."

She got up as well. "Yes, it is." She decided to forget about what she had learned from Draco for now and smiled teasingly. "Did you buy me a present?"

"Did you buy me one?" he asked her, imitating her smile.

"Well, you'll have to wait and see."

*~~*~~*~~*~~*

Draco woke up the next day to find a huge pile of presents at the foot of his bed. Of course he was used to it. But among the usual boxes of Chocolate Frogs that Goyle and Crabbe always gave him for Christmas - Draco was sure it was because of lack of imagination - and the presents from his parents that never failed to surprise him for their uselessness - one year he had received new sets of robes. Why he would need new sets of robes were a mystery to him since they would always buy him new ones at the beginning of every term, but that wasn't worse than the bed coverings in the Malfoy family colours. Considering the Malfoy's colours are green and silver, the coverings looked an awful lot like the Slytherin ones. But according to his mother, he shouldn't say that the Malfoy colours were green and silver, because they are green and white gold. Unfortunately for him, his mother was one of the few people on earth that could distinguish silver from white gold with a single glance -, he found a package carefully wrapped in red paper. He opened it eagerly to find a box of Every Flavour Beans and a large book of Charms with spells that most certainly wouldn't be taught at school. In the first page he found a note where it read, Where I learned the Bat-Bogey Hex, written with a graceful, yet somewhat childish handwriting.

He stared at the parchment for a while, realising it was only the second time he had seen her handwriting, but had recognized it instantly. He spent a long time looking at it, trying to forget what that day meant, until the other boys started to wake up.

Nott was the first one to look fully awake. "Promising day, isn't it?"

Crabbe and Goyle cheered, but Draco just smiled, hoping he was looking delighted, but feeling once more tired and puzzled, since he couldn't understand how Nott could be so engaged into the 'cause', as they would call. That night at the Department of Mysteries, his father had been left behind by his so-called-friends, so badly injured he was still stuck at St. Mungos. No one had dared to speak for him, and the boy would have been left alone for the summer if it wasn't for Draco's mother having the idea to bring him to the Malfoy Mansion. Even still, Nott seemed more engaged than ever, and it had been hard for Draco to keep his distance during the summer break, when he started revaluating his life. The boy sure had helped him decide, since Draco thought he looked pathetic, following Narcissa anywhere she went, asking what he could do to help and taking pleasure at tormenting the house elves.

Just like Draco would not long ago. This thought bothered him, but just then Parkinson entered the room with a large smile on her face and sat at Draco's bed, though looking to Nott.

"Did your father answer?" The boy asked, and Draco remembered Parkinson had promised to write her parents to ask about the plans they had for Christmas day. They all knew it would be something big, but from the scarce information they had received from their parents, they haven't figured out exactly what it would be yet. Since Pansy's father never denied her anything, they had hopes they would know before anyone else.

"Yes, he did," she answered, enjoying being the centre of all the attentions.

"Come one, Pansy, we're all dying of curiosity here!" Nott exclaimed.

She lowered her voice until it was not more than a whisper, and the other boys left their beds and approached them. "It will be the largest attack they've done so far."

"We knew that already," Crabbe grunted, but everyone shushed him.

"Almost every follower in England will participate," she continued, but stayed in silence for so long that Draco got impatient.

"Although it pains me to say that, I have to agree with Crabbe. You're not telling us anything we hadn't figured out already."

"Oh, yeah? And had you figured out that it will happen a few hours after lunch?" the girl snapped, angry.

"Where, Pansy?" Draco asked, feeling a jolt in his stomach when he saw her smile grow wider.

"Somewhere that will be sure to cause panic," she continued, and Draco wished she wasn't right.

*~~*~~*~~*~~*

Ginny was freezing inside the classroom. "Can't we please continue at Ron's dormitory?" she begged, but Draco ignored her.

"You're doing great, and we're almost done."

"No, we're not! It's only four in the afternoon, we usually practice until seven."

"Today will be different," Draco answered dryly, and raised his wand, but Ginny was faster,

"Expelliarmus!"

His wand flew across the classroom and she approached him. "Why's that?"

He took her wand from her hand and used it to conjure his wand, and then answered, "I'm not in the mood today, that's all."

"What, want to play with your presents before bed time?" she provoked, but soon added sweetly, "By the way, thank you for the present. It's lovely."

Draco had given her a cauldron with a note that said, Try not to melt this one, and two books about Defence Against the Dark Arts, although he insisted that learning the Dark Arts was the best defence against it.

He didn't say anything, but noticed she was shivering. "Please," she tried again, now with a more pitiful voice, "let's go somewhere warmer."

He muttered a spell and conjured a small fire that quickly warmed the room up. "There, we are somewhere warmer already. Now let's continue."

"What's the point? Your mind's somewhere else today, I've never defended myself from you as easily as I am doing now."

She sighed heavily as he stepped away from her, avoiding her eyes. "We better stay here today. You'll thank me later."

Ginny narrowed her eyes, realising now he had insisted on looking for a classroom close to the entrance of the castle as possible and seemed particularly jumpy that afternoon, just as the entire Slytherin table at lunch had.

She was about to ask him what was going on when they heard voices in the corridors. Ginny could tell it was Professor McGonagall who was talking so fast and so infuriated that she couldn't understand what she was saying.

Draco rushed to the door and opened it slightly, so they could both take a look, and then Ginny heard. "But Albus, we all have to go as quickly as possible to help the Ministry control the situation!"

"No, Minerva, you have to stay here and arrange everything for when the students come back. I'll try and convince the parents that right now Hogwarts is the safest place for their children to be, and we must have everything prepared for when they arrive. Bear in mind some of them must be hurt and will need Madam Pomfrey."

Ginny was speechless behind Draco, who had held his breath during the entire conversation. The teachers disappeared through the corridor, and they couldn't listen to anything else they were saying. Draco close the door after they had gone, but didn't seem capable of moving.

"Something happened and you knew it would." Ginny recovered faster than him. "What do you know about it, Malfoy?"

She was so angry her face was almost as red as her hair and she looked ready to punch him. When Draco didn't answer nor turned around, she insisted, "I knew there was something wrong since lunch, when all the Slytherins seemed ready to jump out of their seats. What do you know about it?"

He turned around and held her wrists so she wouldn't hurt him. "Listen, I didn't know it 'til this morning, so-"

"What do you know about it?" she insisted, now louder and more desperate, trying to get free of his hold but failing to do so.

"It was an attack," he answered in a soft tone. He looked in her eyes and they were so full of tears he had to take a deep breath to continue. "The Death Eaters were planning a massive attack on Christmas day."

"Where?" she muttered, the tears running down her face.

"St. Mungos."

She felt like the ground had been taken out from below her feet, and she knew the only reason she was still standing was that Draco was holding her wrists tightly. St. Mungos would be crowded on Christmas day; a lot of wizards and their families dealing with the usual problems that happened when the family got together and spells went wrong. How many times had the Weasley family ended up at St. Mungos the previous years, usually for a prank that went worse than the twins expected? Even last year she had been at St. Mungos on Christmas day, worried about her father. Not to mention the many wizards that would go there to spend time with the relatives that were in the long-term residents' wards.

Like Neville's parents.

"Was that why you asked me to stay for Christmas?"

He couldn't look at her in the eye anymore. Her voice was cold and infuriated, and he knew she hated him at that moment. "I didn't know where the attack was going to happen 'til this morning."

"That's not what I asked!" Her voice was so enraged it didn't sound like hers.

"Yes, that's why."

Ginny began to sob uncontrollably, frightened and furious at the same time. She was trying to get free of his grip and trying to punch him at the same time, but wasn't managing either. She felt she was falling, but Draco never let go of her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked between sobs while he let go of her wrists so he could put his arms around her tightly. "Why didn't you tell me so I could tell my brothers? They are out there, they could-"

"They're not hurt if they were not at St. Mungos. And that's exactly why I couldn't tell you. No one was supposed to know."

"But you knew."

Draco didn't say anything, what infuriated Ginny even more and she shouted at the top of her lungs, "You selfish bastard!" She finally managed to get free of his hold. "My brothers could be dead now because you couldn't arouse suspicions!"

He looked desolated. "Ginny, I-"

"Get away from me!" She pulled out her wand and pointed at him. "I never want to look at your face again!"

Draco knew he couldn't reason with her just now, for she wouldn't listen. And he was beginning to realise what had happened.

She was right. His actions - or better to say the lack of them, - had caused the death of several people.

Somehow it didn't seem to sink in. The thought was in his mind, but he couldn't realise what exactly it meant. He couldn't imagine the deaths, the sufferings - he had never experienced any of it in his life. He couldn't imagine how it was like to feel that kind of fear that Ginny was showing among her anger; he couldn't imagine how it could be that the simple fact that he didn't tell anyone about what he knew could cause so much damage.

But he knew how it felt like to have his world shattered because of an event he couldn't control; he had felt it when his father was sent to Azkaban, and he had felt it even more fully when he was at home, wondering how right was everything he had always believed in.

That's why he didn't leave; instead stood there before Ginny, feeling as guilty as he never thought he would. And then he realised how hard it was to try and change, acknowledging a conscience he had been trained to ignore, that now came to surface bringing a pain he'd rather not feel at all.