Saint-Seducing Gold

Chapter Twelve: Out of Remorse

"O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face! Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?"

-----

Draco sat where he'd collapsed earlier in Professor Snape's chair. He was watching the phosphorescent light of the rows of potions glittering all around him, but his mind was elsewhere, roaring at him so loudly he felt like to die from the intensity. Sounds and images of the night replayed themselves in an endless loop through his head: laughter, light and love succeeded by hatred, death and misery. He watched Ginny's smiling gaiety be replaced by the terror in her brother's eyes and the blank surprise on Blaise's face. I love you turned into how could you and behind it all, he could hear the sound of his father's laughter echo menacingly through his skull.

"Draco."

Snape's voice was quiet. The professor had been engrossed in a book when Draco had entered his office about half an hour ago out of breath from his flight down to the dungeons. Snape, realizing something unusual was going on, had steered the incoherent boy toward his desk where he could sit down. Once Draco had calmed down, he'd managed to spill the whole story about him and Ginny and how he'd ended up stabbing her brother with Blaise Zabini's sword. Draco hadn't thought at the time to be grateful for the professor's nodding reception of his tale, but now he wondered at the rapidity of such acceptance. It was highly probable that Snape had already been aware of his more-than-friends relationship with Ginny.

Grey eyes flickered upward to find the Potions master standing before him, a small glass of blue liquid in his hand. He looked on blankly as the professor offered him the potion.

"Drink," Snape said. When Draco didn't move to take the glass, he pushed it into the boy's hand that then unconsciously tightened around it. "Drink," he said again, and frowned at the expressionless teenager.

Draco stared at his teacher and didn't see him. He saw only darkness, only death. When he finally felt the coolness of the potion resting in his grip his gaze traveled to the glass in his hand, then back up to look at Snape.

"What is it?" Draco asked, then - seemingly startled by the sound of his own voice - he began to shudder. He thrust the potion at Snape (who barely caught it) and covered his face with his shaking hands. "What will it do to me?" he whispered between his fingers.

"It will help you sleep," Snape replied, setting the potion aside on the desk. "Draco..." He knelt in front of the trembling boy. "You should rest." He could see the dark circles under his student's eyes, the pallid cast to his already-pale skin. He watched the boy's shoulders convulse as though he were sobbing but knew he wasn't; Malfoys were not the kind to cry, even in the face of what had happened tonight. So Snape looked on, unsure of what action he should take. After all, Severus was not the sort of person one ran to with stories of woe. He did not tolerate foolishness easily, and he'd warned Draco himself that being friends with a Weasley was a mistake.

He allowed himself a frustrated sigh, remembering what had happened not a mere half an hour ago. Draco had come to him for help. The young Malfoy had counted on him, of all people, to be his best chance for understanding and protection. It was true that the two shared a unique friendship as teacher and student, but for him to come here with this... To expect Severus to tell him what to do...

Well, more fool him.

More fool the both of them.

"Draco, stop," he said, and reached forward to draw the boy's hands away from his face. Draco's high cheekbones were stained bright red but his eyes were as dry as Snape knew they'd be. Their gazes met, and Snape saw such guilt in Draco, such utter misery, that he let go of his hands.

Picking up the glass again, he offered it to the boy. "Drink, Draco. You need to rest right now." He kept the tone of his voice low so as not to startle him.

Draco ignored the proffered glass and groped for Snape's wrist. "Should I, Professor?" he asked in a voice too soft and tired to reflect the fever shining in his pale eyes. "How can I rest? Knowing what I've done and what will happen now... How can I rest?"

"You must," Snape replied simply. He broke Draco's grip on his arm, and the boy looked down at the hand as if it were an alien part of himself he'd been unaware of until now. He pushed the glass at Draco and made him look up. "Listen, Draco. There's no excuse for what you did. You know that. I know that. The Headmaster will know that. When he finds you here, he will be undeniably fair in punishing you. You're going to answer to the Ministry's justice whether you like it or not. You might as well be lucid when they come to take you away."

"Are you going to get them, then?" Draco asked, a dull pain overtaking the fever in his gaze. He stared down at the glass of blue liquid.

"Are you going to leave this office?" Snape countered, watching Draco swirl the potion.

The Slytherin stiffened and then slumped back in the chair, looking at Snape once more. "No, Professor. I can't leave without--" His voice caught in his throat and for one brief moment Snape thought he saw those impossible tears shining in Draco's eyes. But one blink later... "I can't leave," he said, and Snape was sure he'd been mistaken.

"I thought you'd feel that way," he said, and straightened. "You're a true Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy. Pride will always win out for you in the end." He gestured to the potion in Draco's hands and turned for the door. "Drink. I'll be back soon and, keeping the object of pride in mind, I'm sure you'd rather be well-rested when you face who will be coming back with me."

Draco watched the professor leave in silence and slowly drank the sleeping draught. He stared at the empty glass for a moment, then - gripped by his helplessness - he threw it down in one violent motion and watched the shining pieces of glass shatter and spin across the floor.

-----

Ginny paced the floor of the Gryffindor Common Room. Numbness was spreading its cold tendrils out from the center of her chest, filling her with uncertainty. There was something familiarly surreal about what had transpired in that dark hallway tonight.

The portrait hole swung open to admit a small group of Gryffindor boys, newly returned from the masquerade. People had been coming in for a while now, laughing raucously as they entered but immediately sobering as someone sidled up to them and filled them in with a sketchy version of what had happened. So far, all of them were congregating near the fireplace to watch Ginny pace as though they could determine the truth of the situation from watching her expressionless face.

Shaking her head to dispel the fog growing in her mind, she looked up at the sound of someone calling her name. Apparently, Colin Creevy had been with the last group of boys because he was now standing in front of her, an angry cast to his bright blue eyes. Ginny watched his mouth move for a moment, wondering what he was so mad about, then walked right on past him to resume her circle of the room.

"What's wrong with you!?" Colin raged as Ginny brushed by him, a dull look on her face. One of Ginny's roommates, Miranda, stood up from where she'd been sitting on the couch trying to comfort Ella.

"She must be in shock," she said nastily, glaring at Ginny as she turned around and walked back toward them, blind to their presence. Ella made as if to stand up, wiping the tears from her cheeks, but Catherine held her back.

"Stop it, you two!" Ella cried. "Leave Ginny alone. This wasn't her fault!"

"Not her fault, huh?" another sixth year boy replied, coming away from the fire a bit. "She's the one who was waltzing about with Draco Malfoy, wasn't she? I'd say this is all her fault." He leaned close to Ella and she cringed back as he hissed, "Malfoy's a Slytherin, or hadn't you noticed?"

"Exactly!" Colin agreed, and grabbed Ginny's arm as she passed him. He swung her toward him and she blankly met his angry gaze without protest. "What did you think you were doing, Ginny? He's the enemy!"

"No one's the enemy! Would you listen to yourselves? This is just school; the real enemy is You-Know-Who. How can you--"

"Shut up, Ella!" Aubrey joined in. "What do you know about it, anyway, with your face always stuck in some book." Ella fell back as though her friend had slapped her. Aubrey jumped up to flank Colin and Miranda in front of Ginny. "What were you thinking, huh, Ginny? Answer me!" And she shook Ginny by her arms, bare and unnaturally cold as she was still wearing her Grecian dress from the ball.

Ginny seemed to awaken, blinking her eyes and focusing on her friends. "You don't understand," she said quietly, looking away.

"Damn right, we don't!" the sixth-year boy said. "Why don't you explain?"

"Yeah!" Colin put in. "Although I don't see how anyone can explain away Malfoy."

"Don't--" Ginny began, eyes widening, but Miranda cut her off.

"And don't go defending him, Ginny! Draco Malfoy is the enemy, no matter how you look at it. His father is a Death-Eater after all and--"

Suddenly everyone was speaking at once, and Ginny found herself encircled by angry Gryffindors on all sides as they berated her about Draco and the pain and misery she'd caused all of them by going out with him. It soon became clear that none of them knew what had really happened, even the people there at the time seemed to know only warped versions of the true events as they spewed their hatred. A few began to shout, trying to be heard over the others, their mouths trembling in anger or confusion when they weren't yelling. Ginny couldn't make sense out of any of it, and heard the words in fragments, coming out of the whirling darkness at her like barbed arrows.

"...Malfoy! And that damn prefect with his..."

"...and not just any Slytherin, oh no. You had to choose him! Do you have any idea...?"

"...slimy git, with his stupid smirk..."

Ginny tried to back away, but they were all around her, pressing in on her, faceless bodies screaming at her so loudly that she couldn't see or feel or think. "Stop it," she whispered, but no one heard her.

"...got what they deserved! Harry should've..."

"...just like his father!"

"Stop it," Ginny said again, and, "Stop it!" she shouted, her hands rising in an unconscious effort to block the noise out.

"...and now we'll all pay..."

"...go get revenge right now! We need to..."

"STOP!" Ginny screamed, and flung herself blindly in the direction of the portrait hole. The people in front of her parted in surprise as she flew into Harry Potter's arms. Sobbing and quite close to hysteria, Ginny clung to his shoulders desperately, before realizing that everyone had stopped shouting. She straightened, saw Harry, and stumbled back a few steps. The others were watching Harry carefully, guarded expressions on their faces. Ginny looked around and saw that Hermione, who'd previously been huddled in the corner of the room, had jumped up and come toward him, an earnest and wild air radiating from her.

"Harry!" she said, eyes weirdly bright. "Ron, is he--"

"Ron's dead," Harry said flatly, and Hermione stopped short. Her face turned white alarmingly fast, and she swayed unsteadily before someone -Ginny thought maybe it was Neville, but it might've been someone else--grabbed her and guided her over to a chair. Harry sank down on the couch and stared at the floor without further comment.

Ginny went rigid at Harry's announcement, and knew she'd gone as deathly pale as Hermione. Her brother was dead and Draco... Draco had done just what everyone had expected him to do.

-----

Draco felt tired, but he couldn't sleep. He had his head down on the Potion master's desk, his cheek flat against the coolness of the dark wood. Carefully, he dipped his fingers into the glass of water and touched them to a blank piece of parchment beside him. Dip. Touch. Dip. Touch. He covered the paper with tiny dots and wet circles until the sodden patterns blurred and became nothing. Breathing slowly, he pushed the glass out of reach and closed his eyes.

As he tried to sleep, he became aware of a sound coming from the hallway: the soft whisk of a cloak being dragged over stone. The footsteps were heavy and hesitant as though the person approaching was unsure about entering the room. Draco raised his head up and stared at the open door, waiting. No teacher coming to take him away would walk like that.

After several moments of listening, Draco sat up straighter, eyes widening in recognition. His incredulity was confirmed when Ginny's chalk-white face appeared, peering around the corner of the doorway. Draco started to his feet before he could help it and consequently knocked Snape's chair over.

"Ginny, I--" he blurted, and then stopped. What could he say to her to make up for what he had done? Suddenly struck by the fact that he might have lost her for good, he felt his knees weaken and his vision darken. "Ginny," he whispered, clutching the side of the desk to keep himself upright. "I didn't... I don't... I'm sorry."

Ginny came into the room more fully when she saw Draco growing faint. Dropping her cloak on the ground, she rushed to his side to embrace him and buried her face in his neck. Astonished, he wrapped his arms around her too, resting his head on her shoulder and shaking with relief.

"It's okay," she murmured against him then. "It's all right." She drew away and made him look into her eyes that were shining with an unreleased sorrow and such passion that Draco almost gave into his relief with weeping to see it. "I love you," she said soothingly, and raised his trembling hands to her lips.

"But, how...?" Draco shook his head and began again. "Why? I killed your brother!"

Ginny closed her eyes for a moment as though she was struggling with some inner anguish, then said, "Because you're more to me than anything else in this world. If I don't forgive you now, I'll go insane. Without you... I'm not sure I could go on living my life as it is. You've become everything to me. Everything."

"But why?" Draco persisted in an agonized whisper. "Why am I everything to you? I've done nothing but divided you from your friends and family. What did I ever do to deserve your faith in me? I betrayed you just now." Overwhelmed, he forced himself to take a step away from her and, looking at the ground, said, "I don't deserve your love."

"You asked me why, and I'm going to tell you. Draco..." Ginny closed the space between them. "You listened to me when no one else could. You took the time to be my friend. You understand me in a way no one ever has. Don't you remember? We're soulmates."

Draco looked up, remembering the long ago day in October that he'd told her that and the surreal surprise of her echoing the sentiment. He looked at her and saw all his petty fears drop away in her eyes. For some reason he'd forgotten that as soulmates they transcended certain realities. He'd forgotten that he wasn't the only one who'd come to love someone with all that love entailed.

"Ginny," he breathed in his dawning realization. She smiled softly and he enfolded her in his arms. "I think I love you more than I'll ever be able to tell you."

She pulled his head down and kissed his cheek then touched his face with her fingers and kissed him on the mouth.

"I know," she said at last, and smiled again.

Just as Draco felt the beginnings of a smile curving his own lips, a cold voice spoke from the doorway.

'Well, well. Isn't this precious?"

Draco felt Ginny cringe with a detached sort of interest as to why she recognized the sound of his father's voice. He looked across the room to find the senior Malfoy standing there in all his dark glory: black clothing from head to toe, silver-blonde hair pulled back from the severity of his pale face.

"Father," he said, and gently but firmly pushed Ginny behind himself. "What are you doing here?"

Lucius raised the thin line of one eyebrow. "I heard," he said, walking over to the desk, "that my only son was facing a Ministry inquiry and prudently thought to obtain the specifics of the story from you." He picked up the half-empty water glass that Draco had been using earlier and peered at it curiously. Ginny's hand found Draco's; both had suddenly clammy palms. "Before I had to read it in the papers," Lucius clarified, setting the glass down again and switching his gaze back to his only son.

"What did you do, Draco? Does it have anything to do with the little whore lurking behind you?"

Draco had been in the middle of wondering how in the name of Merlin his father had found out about a fight that'd taken place mere hours ago when he heard this. Rational thought rushed from his mind and he visibly bristled.

"I killed her brother, but it was an accident. And her name is Ginny." Ginny's hand tightened around his own.

Lucius stepped around Professor Snape's fallen chair. "I'll call her what she is. How dare you talk back to me, Draco? You've changed this year, and not for the better. I may have to teach you a lesson." He strode forward, and, before either teenager could register what was happening, hit Draco with a full-bodied slap across the face. Head snapping to the side, Draco would have gone sprawling to the floor had Ginny not been behind to catch him.

"My insolent son," Lucius sneered. "Playing at love is bad enough, but with a Weasley..." Draco didn't notice Ginny stiffen at Lucius' words. His face was afire with pain and his head rang so loudly he could scarcely hear his father's words. Unhappy memories of Malfoy Manor and his childhood filled him. "You are my kin and so must obey certain rules. Malfoys do not associate with Gryffindors, Draco, much less Weasleys. Do you hear me?"

He knew from experience that he couldn't fight back. He knew it was useless to say anything at all. But if he'd learned anything in the months spent with Ginny, it was that he was the only one with control over his destiny. This was his life after all. Hardly daring to believe his own idiocy, he lifted his chin and said loudly, "I love her."

The slap came from the other side this time and hurt twice as much. Reactionary tears sprang to Draco's eyes, but he focused himself on the warmth of Ginny's hands holding him up. She looked like she was choking back her own tears of anger and helplessness.

"And I suppose you would marry her, too?" Lucius proposed in a silky voice that Draco knew spoke of impending danger more clearly than anything else.

Dimly, he responded through a haze of red pain, "Yes."

When he opened his eyes, he was lying on the floor; Ginny was kneeling at his side and Lucius was demanding that he stand up. Ginny refused on his behalf. She narrowed her gaze at Draco's father and matched him for calmness as she replied, "Leave him alone, or I'll kill you myself." Draco might have been proud of her if he could make the room stop its alarming tilt to the left.

Lucius didn't even give her the courtesy of an acknowledgement. Ignoring her, he leaned over and yanked Draco to his feet. The room spun in crazy circles as all the blood rushed from Draco's head, and Lucius' fingernails dug into his arm.

"Stupid," Lucius seethed, "to think I wouldn't find out. What were you going to do - run away? As a Malfoy, you know you can't hide from the Dark Lord. And now she'll have to die, too. Seems you're in the habit of killing Weasleys, perhaps I should make you be the one to dispatch her?" He punctuated each question with another slap, and each statement with a tighter grip on Draco's arm. Draco could feel hot blood in his mouth but he knew he couldn't strike back. It would mean certain and immediate death without a doubt.

"Leave him alone!"

Ginny's voice pierced the air with all the desperation and rage Draco was trying to suppress. Lucius turned to her and Draco blinked several times before he saw her standing in front of them, wand outstretched.

"If you don't let go of Draco right now, I am going to do something Professor Dumbledore taught me was wrong. And I am not going to regret it."

Lucius gave her a contemptuous laugh. "What? Is the Gryffindor going against the principles of her venerated Headmaster? How strange. And yet... how thought provoking. You must have spent quite a lot of time with my son to be so willing to go to Azkaban for no reason. Come. Kill me if you must. I really shouldn't stand in the way of young love, should I? Punish me for my inexcusable crimes."

Ginny's eyes blazed with dark flames, and Draco found himself thrust aside as she leveled her wand. Catching himself as he stumbled into the wall, he heard the dreadful words.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Horrified, Draco turned around. Lucius threw Draco's wand on the desk.

"There," he said serenely. "Lesson learned. Now you know what happens when you play with fire, Draco." He tugged his gloves straight, then brushed past his son and left the room without looking back.

Draco couldn't move. He stood staring down at Ginny's lifeless body, growing cold where it lay collapsed on the floor. Her face was that familiar mask of terror mingled with surprise that usually bespoke of the Killing Curse's deadly work. But it wasn't Ginny. Not his Ginny. Not Ginny who'd forgiven him for killing her brother because she loved him. Not Ginny who'd finally made his life worth living. He never deserved her and now...

He didn't remember falling to his knees or even crawling to her side, but Draco found himself hugging Ginny's unresponsive body to his own, and for once in his life, the tears came without anything to stop them.

-----

"Draco?"

"...don't deserve this. No matter what she... Oh, Merlin..."

"Draco!"

Draco's grey eyes snapped open at the sound of Professor Snape's voice, and he straightened from where he'd been sleeping slumped across the professor's desk. "Professor! I--"

The Potions master bowed his head and stepped aside. Draco stared. Ginny, her face half-hidden by a curtain of her red hair, was standing there before him alive and well.

"Ginny," he breathed, and stood up to go to her. He was vaguely aware of Snape going to someone he couldn't see in the background, but all of his thoughts were now focused on Ginny and the utter lack of expression on her face.

"Ginny?"

She looked up at him as he approached, and he halted upon seeing the depth of the pain glistening in her eyes. His heartbeat sped up at the thought that his dream had been untrue in more ways than one. She was lost to him now; he'd done the unforgivable in that moment of fury and now he was going to lose the only good thing that had ever happened to him. She was slipping further away with every passing moment, and he knew he couldn't fathom life without her.

Before she could say anything, his anguish poured out of him. "Ginny, I didn't mean for any of it to happen; it was all an accident. You saw what happened. He killed Blaise and I couldn't... Ginny, I couldn't think. I didn't think. I shouldn't have... I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but--"

Ginny's eyes had been steadily filling with tears as he went on until finally she interrupted his flow of words by stepping forward. Draco stopped, blood pounding audibly in his ears. An overpowering fear gripped his mind and made it impossible for him to speak. He watched Ginny helplessly.

She stared at him for a moment, the tears threatening to spill on her cheeks, then suddenly swung her arm out and slapped him so hard that he staggered sideways into the desk. Black flowers bloomed in his gaze and the terror and pain of his nightmare returned, only multiplied by the fact that Ginny had struck him and not his father.

He felt something else strike him, but when his vision cleared, he found that it had merely been Ginny's arms wrapping around him. She was sobbing against his chest, her fingers digging painfully into his back. Faint with relief and the aftershocks of terror, he felt his knees buckle and the two of them slid to the floor together. He buried his face in her hair and whispered her name as her sobs intensified. The two clung desperately to one another as though they thought the entire world was going to shatter and send them tumbling into the abyss at any moment.

Professor Snape's voice cut through their misery. "I regret the necessity of the interruption, Mr. Malfoy, but just what were you planning to do now?"

Do? Draco's mind buzzed, unable to process the question. What did it matter what he did? Ginny was here now, her tears soaking through his robes; what else mattered?

"Mr. Malfoy."

The new voice caught both Draco and Ginny's attention. They pulled away slightly - their eyes meeting for a small moment containing all of their naked fears - and looked up at Professor Dumbledore together.

"Mr. Malfoy, you are aware that there are consequences to your actions." The Headmaster's voice was soft and just and there was no question involved with his words. Draco nodded anyway. Ginny slumped and turned her face into his chest, and Draco's hand rose to stroke her tumbled hair.

Dumbledore continued. "I'm sure neither of you intended for any of this to happen as a result of your actions, but the simple truth is that it has. Draco, I know that you are now feeling repentance, but that does not alter the fact that what you've done is irreversible. Despite extenuating circumstances, I cannot stop the Ministry from trying you as an adult wizard fully responsible for his words and deeds. You are eighteen now, correct?"

"My birthday was last month," Draco said, closing his eyes. Ginny made a little sound low in her throat and pressed against him, causing Draco to wish that the world really would shatter. The two of them couldn't be separated by someone else if there was no one else.

"Then I'm afraid you'll have to come with me," the Headmaster said gravely. "There are certain laws prohibiting a suspected criminal's interaction with others, so you'll have to wait in one of the lower dungeon rooms until a Ministry official can come for you."

In the end, it didn't take any interference to part them. They stood together and Ginny reached up to gently push a stray piece of hair from Draco's face. He touched her hand, and the brief intimacy spoke volumes.