"You seemed uncomfortable," Draco merely said, when Ginny rose from the
bed, startled, her hands clutched against the front frame of the dress, her
eyes sighting his in a way that said 'how could you?'. "Why did you come in
here?" she asked, scared and confused. So soft was the brilliance escaping
away from her...the bravery that she once had, and now the light was
pouring in from the glass smudges of the window, sketching her every move
to create a place in the wall that stayed frozen inches away, a drawing of
Ginny on the wall. Nothings and randoms were mixing in her head like colors
that had nowhere to go as he gazed at her for hours, it seemed, but of
course, everything seemed like an hour to Ginny. Draco looked almost
surprised at this question.
"To see if you wanted something to eat."
No, this could not be happening, and Draco turned and looked at the spots on the floor for hours. "You threw up." Damp that spot seemed as he said, it, bluntly, without any disgust. How could a character change, rotate, within a matter of seconds that it was almost terrifying? How could he be so gentle from the stark, mad character he once was? Like an actor, he seemed to know how to embrace the darkness and something else of someone else, entirely different.
"Well, of course I have," Ginny said, a bit haughtily, her lips upturning into bitterness that since did not exist in him, once brought out in her. "What did you think, I would stay put as you two starved me to my death?"
He smiled faintly at her annoyance and reached out to grab the straps of her dress, putting them out. She almost obeyed it like an order as she brought her arms out, letting him, two small threads tapping at her shoulders. "Now, now, Mother doesn't like to waste food."
"Well, really, she has enough money to buy jewels, and yet she starves a house guest who has nowhere else to go?" Ginny snapped. She hadn't mean to-- and the expression on his face changed, almost went horrifyingly strange, as if it had always been, at all times.
"Now see here, Weasley," he said, back to the same Draco, the old Draco, again, unfortunate, "You're not to be curious. Just do what you're asked and you're to live here."
"Now see here, Malfoy," Ginny shot back. "I'd rather die trying to survive out there then being stripped in my damn sleep."
Two pink flushed spots appeared at his cheekbones--his cheekbones were rather high, Ginny observed, and the color of pink was like white on a red lollipop, clear until stained. "You don't know what you're talking about. You don't even know me."
"That's right! I don't know what you or your horrible, wretched mother will do next! And that's why I am leaving!" Ginny said, looking scorned, looking dead, both at the same time. The features of his expression changed once again, and he smiled at her, as if he was offering her a challenge, a ribbon, a crown, and if she was to take it, her head would fall down. "Leave, Weasley, then, do us both a damn favor."
Ginny almost felt resistance all at once--where would she go? How would she leave? But standing there in front of a complete stranger, oh how she wanted to leave right now--it didn't matter where she went...she would rather die and see her mother once again then see someone else's. Pushing away from his stare, she opened the window.
"What're you doing?" his voice said, aghast.
"Jumping out of the balcony," Ginny said, and it almost seemed ridiculous as she said it, but if freedom was to be felt, and seen, and drawn that way, then she may as well escape, and the drawing of her on the wall, black and faint in sunlight could stay, in the smears of the window frames.
"Weasley," Draco said. "That balcony is above the garden. You cannot enter the garden."
"Just watch me, Malfoy," she said, almost hungrily, stepping out into the balcony. Shivers ran down her as she did, cold reached her in the post winter air hovering about her toes, and then she felt frightened at once--- why was the garden darker than she had seen it before? It was evening, but it had no right to be dark when she was to jump on it! Before she could think anymore, she turned her head to see Draco--- and was hitten in the back of her head hard, lightening, almost, and she fell down, knowing she would never wake again.
***
"To see if you wanted something to eat."
No, this could not be happening, and Draco turned and looked at the spots on the floor for hours. "You threw up." Damp that spot seemed as he said, it, bluntly, without any disgust. How could a character change, rotate, within a matter of seconds that it was almost terrifying? How could he be so gentle from the stark, mad character he once was? Like an actor, he seemed to know how to embrace the darkness and something else of someone else, entirely different.
"Well, of course I have," Ginny said, a bit haughtily, her lips upturning into bitterness that since did not exist in him, once brought out in her. "What did you think, I would stay put as you two starved me to my death?"
He smiled faintly at her annoyance and reached out to grab the straps of her dress, putting them out. She almost obeyed it like an order as she brought her arms out, letting him, two small threads tapping at her shoulders. "Now, now, Mother doesn't like to waste food."
"Well, really, she has enough money to buy jewels, and yet she starves a house guest who has nowhere else to go?" Ginny snapped. She hadn't mean to-- and the expression on his face changed, almost went horrifyingly strange, as if it had always been, at all times.
"Now see here, Weasley," he said, back to the same Draco, the old Draco, again, unfortunate, "You're not to be curious. Just do what you're asked and you're to live here."
"Now see here, Malfoy," Ginny shot back. "I'd rather die trying to survive out there then being stripped in my damn sleep."
Two pink flushed spots appeared at his cheekbones--his cheekbones were rather high, Ginny observed, and the color of pink was like white on a red lollipop, clear until stained. "You don't know what you're talking about. You don't even know me."
"That's right! I don't know what you or your horrible, wretched mother will do next! And that's why I am leaving!" Ginny said, looking scorned, looking dead, both at the same time. The features of his expression changed once again, and he smiled at her, as if he was offering her a challenge, a ribbon, a crown, and if she was to take it, her head would fall down. "Leave, Weasley, then, do us both a damn favor."
Ginny almost felt resistance all at once--where would she go? How would she leave? But standing there in front of a complete stranger, oh how she wanted to leave right now--it didn't matter where she went...she would rather die and see her mother once again then see someone else's. Pushing away from his stare, she opened the window.
"What're you doing?" his voice said, aghast.
"Jumping out of the balcony," Ginny said, and it almost seemed ridiculous as she said it, but if freedom was to be felt, and seen, and drawn that way, then she may as well escape, and the drawing of her on the wall, black and faint in sunlight could stay, in the smears of the window frames.
"Weasley," Draco said. "That balcony is above the garden. You cannot enter the garden."
"Just watch me, Malfoy," she said, almost hungrily, stepping out into the balcony. Shivers ran down her as she did, cold reached her in the post winter air hovering about her toes, and then she felt frightened at once--- why was the garden darker than she had seen it before? It was evening, but it had no right to be dark when she was to jump on it! Before she could think anymore, she turned her head to see Draco--- and was hitten in the back of her head hard, lightening, almost, and she fell down, knowing she would never wake again.
***