~Ch. 10- Cacophony~

The Dark Lord had all his attention fixed upon Lucius Malfoy's son. The eyes with their unnerving cacophony of colors were fixed upon him, seeming to Draco to be burning holes inside his skull, to glimpse the secret thoughts within.

When Voldemort spoke, it was the last thing Draco expected him to say. And yet, it was the first thing he'd expected, as well. "Your father told me all about your birthday festivities this summer, Draco." Voldemort remarked almost casually, but the eerie eyes glittered with poisonous venom. "That was right after your induction ceremony, wasn't it? After you accepted the Dark Mark, became one of us."

He drank from his cup, smiled, glanced down at the fine crystal. "How did you enjoy that?"

Draco didn't even twitch an eyelash, although he felt exactly as if he'd caught a Stunning spell in the gut. "Well. I was a trifle bored, to be honest." He answered dryly. "Unfortunately, I don't have my father's... enthusiasm, for such sport."

Upon the mention of Draco's birthday, Ginny tore her gaze from the window towards the occupants of the room once more, namely Draco. A shiver ran down her spine, and she only felt sicker.

Better get used to feeling sick, Ginny. A darker voice inside her seemed to say. Once you use that bracelet, you'll feel ten times worse.

The voice only angered Ginny more, and she clenched her fists, trying to put her own worries aside to help Draco. Her gaze centered on him, seeming to tell him that he didn't have to put up with this, almost trying to assure him that everything was alright if he just managed to look back.

Words would be useless now.

"Unfortunate, indeed." Voldemort was saying. He seemed quite pleased about something, now. As if he had heard some joke that only his twisted mind could understand.

But with his next words, the joke became clear to Draco as well.

"As you'll be exercising that sport for your task."

The screams were deafening inside of Draco's brain. All that filled his vision was the face of the Muggle girl, looking to him for help. Help he hadn't given.

The bile rose in the back of his throat, and he swayed, turning blindly and clutching at the nearest table for support. His hands gripped the edge so hard his knuckles turned white. "No," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. He forgot about putting up a brave act. He forgot that he was supposed to be appearing indifferent and aloof. He was not above begging. Not when it came to this. "No, please..."

Draco managed to choke back the rest of the plea, knowing it would be of no use.

Ginny stared, surprised at Draco's reaction. She wasn't sure of the specifics, but whatever it was, he did not want to do it. And that was enough for her.

Taking a cautious step towards him, she wanted to reach out, to touch his shoulder, to hug him, to tell him that it would be alright. That everything would be alright and that she'd think up something to save them. Something to get them out of it. But she didn't move. She didn't do much but take a step closer. And even then, it was a small step.

I'm sorry Draco. I'm sorry you were ever dragged into this in the first place. I'm sorry that things have been so hard. I'm sorry that your father was like this and I'm sorry that you didn't have a family like mine. If I could change things, I would.

Just keep up hope, Draco. You can't give up. If you give up... then I'll have to, as well. And that giving up meant what Ginny feared the most. Death.

Lucius Malfoy was looking less than pleased at his son's reaction. He went over to Draco, grabbing his shoulder, and jerking him upright in a rather un-gentle fashion. "What's the matter with you, boy? Why aren't you thanking our master for this honor?"

Draco swallowed hard, making his adam's apple bob. The shell-shocked look left his face to be replaced by revulsion at finding his father so close. He tore himself from Lucius's grip. "I don't want to do it." He grated out through clenched teeth.

Lucius Malfoy stood toe-to-toe with Draco, staring him down. "What... did... you... say?" He hissed, mounting anger making him draw out each word. He had never tolerated disobedience from anyone.

Ginny wasn't going to let him suffer alone. She had been too quiet, too long. Draco didn't deserve any of this. The least she could do was to try and take the anger off of him.

"Leave him alone." Her words were almost an order, more of a command from the fiery red-head. "Draco is not your slave. He can do as he likes, you don't have any right to tell him how he is to think and behave, being his father or not."

She hadn't wanted to say more, but the floodgates of her emotions wouldn't let her turn them off after letting just a little leak through. "You think you are so 'perfect'? So high and mighty because you serve him?" At that, she gestured towards Voldemort before speaking again, the fiery anger acting up.

"You're a coward," she told Lucius Malfoy. "A coward hiding behind his obedience to someone. You really think blind devotion will get you everywhere with everyone? You really think that serving him is going to get you anywhere?"

She shook her head. "You are a puppet, Lucius Malfoy. You have no will of your own."

Father and son had turned to look at Ginny when she had begun her tirade, with identical expressions of shock. But as she continued on, Draco's had transformed into a sort of shocked-awe/admiration mixed with fear expression, while Lucius Malfoy's had become nothing but pure malice. He stepped away from his son, turning to her, silver eyes snapping like ice.

But before he could open his mouth to give her the obvious tongue-lashing, Voldemort stood up, setting his wine glass down on a table with a sharp sound. "Relax, Lucius." And he used the tone of one calling off a growling dog. "It's very amusing, really. The pot calling the kettle black." He smirked at Ginny. "Or had you forgotten, dear Virginia, that you are my puppet as well?"

He stalked towards their little cluster. "Yes, that's right, I hold all the stings." He hissed. "And when I say jump, you all jump, and you don't cease your jumping until your feet are bloody and your knees are broken."

Voldemort directed his glare at Draco now. "You don't want to perform your task? Too distasteful for you? You make a friend with a hero-worshiping ninny like her and you think you can just forget your obligations?" He hand darted out like a cobra, seizing Draco's collar and hauling him forward, till Voldemort was hissing directly in his face. "You will do it. And if you ever dare to deny me again... I will personally break every bone in her hand. She doesn't have to have both hands to do the ritual.

"Now... am I understood?"

Draco didn't know how he did it, but he managed to meet the Dark Lord glare for glare. It was that stubborn streak of defiance in him. But a streak wasn't enough to make him take chances on Ginny's safety. He forced his answer out through gritted teeth. "Perfectly."

Ginny had to bite down hard on her lip to keep the tears from forming. Draco was only protecting her. She was the hostage, the bait, and yet she was trying to save him, and only ending up hurting him more.

Her gaze rested on Draco, and she ignored the rest of the room, she ignored the surroundings, and everything else, save for the lone figure of Draco. And in her mind, she said everything her heart longed to, but her lips wouldn't utter.

I'm so sorry, Draco.I must sound like a fool for repeating myself so many times, but I am. It's all my fault, Draco. I shouldn't have let you come so close, I shouldn't have let you befriend me. I should have ignored my own longing for all of this and pushed you away. Now I'm a fly, caught in a tangled web, and I'm just a puppet too. I'm just the hostage.

I hate this, Draco. I'm so scared, and so frightened, and I would love to just go home. I would love to go back to Hogwarts, to see it restored, to see it like nothing had ever happened. But it's all happened, and it's all my fault. All my fault... people got hurt, because of me. That shouldn't happen.

Her eyes flickered to the window, almost longingly. It would be so easy, Draco, to stop all of this. I could jump. I could just jump out that window and let myself fall, let my body be crushed. If I was lucky, I might even die. Then it'd all be over. Voldemort couldn't get what he wanted, you see? And I wouldn't be a liability, Draco. I'd be gone. You wouldn't have to worry about me. You could leave. You could go somewhere else. You could be someone else.

But her eyes were drawn back to him. That's a selfish dream, I suppose. I'd leave you alone. Alone with them. Alone with this world... no one accepts you, Draco. No one trusts you. No one knows you. It's so selfish of me to end this all so quickly when you are so alone.

But it's so much easier to just die... so much easier...

Voldemort's hand released Draco's collar, smoothing it out a bit as the Dark Lord smiled beatifically, like a child that's just gotten exactly what he wanted for Christmas. "I thought you might," he crooned, then nodded to Lucius.

Draco's father obeyed the unsaid instruction, moving towards a large wooden chest that sat inconspicuously placed against the foot of a four-poster. Withdrawing a small brass key from a chain around his neck, he fitted it into the lock.

There was a cold, sick feeling in Draco's gut, that told him he most desperately did not want to see what was inside the locked chest. And that he was going to anyway.

His father reached inside, pulling out something that was making small, helpless noises. It was a child. The cold, sick feeling evolved into absolute and utter horror as soon as his eyes comprehended what he was seeing.

Not just any child. The child. From his birthday initiation... from the torture he'd lied to stay out of... gods, gods, she hadn't died... but she'd been here for months, at the mercy of Voldemort, all this time...

Ginny shuddered, turning her gaze away. There was only so much she could take, and this was really stretching her limits. Fumbling around behind her, she reached for something, anything to hold onto. Finding the edge of a table, she sunk down to her knees, holding onto it to keep from falling altogether as she fought off nausea and dizziness. It was all way too much. Too much to take in.

She just wanted it all, everything, to stop. To stop, go away, and leave her alone.

But she couldn't have possibly wanted it more than the litte Muggle girl did. Or had, anyway. She was past wanting anything, now. Past feeling anything. Past wondering why they would keep her alive only to imprison her in a locked box for indeterminable lengths of time. It would have broken the mind of even the strongest adult. As it was, for a child, she had lasted longer than expected.

She finally stopped making the sounds that drove knives into Draco's lungs, making him feel stabbing pains with every breath. But the pain went on as he looked at her. He couldn't make himself look away. Her hair was very long, dark with filth and matted into tangles. Her skin was shockingly pale where it showed through streaks of dirt. But her eyes haunted him the most. Her eyes were guileless summer blue, and as empty as a bare room. She hung listlessly in Lucius Malfoy's grasp, hardly aware of her surroundings.

Voldemort looked to the girl and patted her snarled curls. "Draco. You remember Oubliette? Of course you do. Oubliette is a very special little girl."

Upon hearing the name the Dark Lord had bestowed upon the child, Draco's shock began a slow burn. He was in danger of working himself into a powerful, murderous rage. His nails bit so hard into the palms of his hands that they penetrated the skin and he bled.

Ginny just felt sicker, her hands dropping from the table to the ground to support herself. She coughed a bit, but not because she needed to, but because she just hoped that it would drown out the voices, the horror of the situation.

Unable to do so, she sat up a bit better, her hands reaching to run through her hair and then cover her ears. She just wanted it all to stop, for it all to go away.

Voldemort was looking more and more pleased by the minute, his multi-colored gaze sparkling with sadistic delight. "Oubliette started out as an ordinary Muggle child," he began, looking down to the girl with a twisted, sick sort of fondness. "Boring. Useless. Stupid. As all Muggles are. But luckily for her, she fell in to my grasp when she was still very young. And then she helped me discover something very, very interesting...

"All children had the potential for magic inside them. But for poor, helpless Muggles, that gift will remain dormant and locked away for the rest of their pathetic, miserable, Muggle lives." Voldemort looked back to Draco, drinking in the boy's reaction.

"However, with the proper and methodical... treatment, that magic potential can be unlocked. And when it comes out, it's three times more potent than a wizarding child's of the same age would be. Unfortunately, the treatment leaves a rather brutal scarring upon the mind..."

Draco looked as if he might be violently sick in a moment. "Treatment? You mean you psychologically and physical tortured her for months until her mind snapped." He had never felt such rage. He wanted to kill Voldemort and his father. No, more than kill. Hurt. He wanted every pain they'd inflicted upon the girl to be visited upon them. Over and over. And he wanted to be the one to do it.

Ginny just felt nauseated, her stomach churning, her head throbbing, down on her hands and knees on the floor. She wanted to get up, to say something brave, but she couldn't. It was all just so wrong. Everything was so wrong, it was as if her body was reacting to the terrible evil of the whole situation.

"Just... stop it.. please.." She found herself begging, shutting her eyes so she wouldn't have to look at them all. She let herself go limp, laying on the ground, her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to blot everything out of her mind.

"Stop... please.."

Draco tore his eyes away from Oubliette, and when his gaze fell upon Ginny's form his rage was tempered by concern. He knelt carefully at her side, putting a hand to her shoulders, not caring anymore about playing his cards close to his chest. It was useless, when your opponent had already loaded the deck.

His hand moved in comforting circles on her back, searching for something to say. That it was okay, everything was going to be alright? No. Because that was most obviously a lie, as things were the farthest from alright that they could possibly be. That they'd get through this, somehow? No. Because he couldn't see even a tiny chance of that. Voldemort was too clever, too ruthless, too strong.

So he ended up saying nothing.

But someone else spoke up. The very last person he'd expected. Oubliette was looking at him, but really looking- not just staring with a vacant expression. The barest hint of lucidity flickered in her guileless brown eyes. Somehow, that only made the pain worse. If she could still be aware, after all this time...

"Are you here?" She whispered to him, her voice creaking so softly, he was barely able to hear it. He knew- while wishing that he could Obliviate the knowledge from his brain- that the creaking was the cause of ruined vocal chords. Ruined from endless screaming...

"Are you here? Or in the other place? I've forgotten where I saw you first..." she murmured on, while he looked back at her in helpless confusion, wishing he could understand.

Ginny almost winced at the hand that she felt on her back, but without opening her eyes, she knew who it was. His touch was warm, warmer than she felt right now, and she unconsciously leaned back against the hands that were rubbing her back.

It was calming. And it was what she needed. But she almost lost it again when she heard the voice. The distant voice... the voice of someone not all there, and yet, forced into pure reality as well. A tortured voice.

It sent another shudder through her.

Lucius Malfoy was frowning down at his son and Ginny. "Get up, Draco." He snapped in irritation.

Draco blatantly ignored him, his hand tightening on Ginny's shoulder being the only sign he'd even heard the order. He nodded to Oubliette. "Does she... speak very often?"

Lucius looked bored. "I wouldn't know. The chest is magically sound-proofed."

That brought Draco to his feet, the rage trembling through him like a cold fire. "You're a bastard." He said quietly.

Lucius cracked a small, arrogant smile. One that Draco had often worn before, as well. "You of all people should know, Draco, our family line is impeccably beyond question."

"Bastard." Ginny echoed the word, opening her eyes and mustering her strength to get up. "How could you even do that to anyone? How could you just leave her locked up like that?"

She managed to get to her feet, the fire spreading from Draco to her. "No one cares about your family line, Lucius. No one cares about you. Not for you. Voldemort may tolerate you for your position, perhaps, if he can actually care about anything, but your existence is meaningless to anyone else." She paused.

"Anyone that can do that to a child is just... not deserving of love in any form."

Lucius crossed his arms over his chest, staring back at Ginny with an unreadable expression on his face. A cool, indifferent mask had settled over his features. Except with this man, the mask was probably the reality. When he spoke, the timbre of his voice held that truth. He just didn't give a damn. He looked towards his son. The son he'd done his best to make into a smaller copy of himself. Except Draco was grown now. They could stand eye-to-silver-eye.

"What say you, Draco? Do you not care about your Father? Does your family and your honor mean nothing to you?"

Draco's jaw clenched, and he titled his chin defiantly. "It means something to me."

Lucius Malfoy smirked. "And that would be...?"

Draco didn't echo the smirk. His features remained etched with hatred. "That I have a lot of accumulated debt to atone for."

"Insolent brat. What has happened to you, Draco? The son I raised would never have succumbed to the delusions of self-righteousness that you're obviously having. You're turning into another Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived to be a Nuisance." Lucius growled.

Draco looked ready to spit with anger. "Don't call me your son. Ever again. I am not your son."

Ginny placed a hand comfortingly on Draco's shoulder, willing him to have the courage to keep standing up for himself. After all this time, he was finally doing what he wanted to. He was standing up to his father.

She almost felt proud of Draco, in fact, she did. He was being strong. On his own... without her. It almost sent a twinge of regret through her as well, but she pushed it out of her head.

He was being strong.

Voldemort was glancing between father and son. "As touching as this little interlude is, Lucius, Obsidian is waiting for you." He stated quietly to his Death Eater. Draco's father tore his gaze away from his son, nodded briskly, then swept towards the door, slamming it on his way out.

The Dark Lord looked back to Ginny and Draco, standing so close together, drawing strength from one another's presence. He felt a flicker of something when he looked directly at Virginia Weasley, noting the way her eyes were shining for Draco, and Draco alone. He quashed the flicker impatiently.

Reaching out, he clasped Oubliette's small, dirty hand in his own. "I have business of my own to attend to. A few more people have expressed great interest in meeting my young Muggle experiment." He favored them both with a sinister smile.

Draco was still furious, and eminently frustrated. Voldemort knew they would not leave without securing Oubliette's safety, first. So they were still, in essence, imprisoned here, even as Voldemort Disapparated with the girl, leaving them unbound, unguarded.

Ginny felt her knees buckle underneath her as it was finally somewhat over. At least they were gone. At least they were alone, safe for a few more moments. She fell to her knees, then forward onto her hands, her hair hanging around her face, shielding it from view. But one wouldn't have to look at her face to know she was crying.

"Why? Why does all of this have to happen? Why can't we stop it? Why aren't we strong enough to stop it all?" Her questions weren't directed at Draco, per se, but rather, at the world, as if it would answer back.

Draco sank to the ground, leaning dejectedly against a stout table leg, his arms hanging limply over his knees. His throat closed up, as Ginny voiced the exact same questions that were pounding into his brain relentlessly, without mercy.

He looked over to Ginny, tears turning his eyes to pools of mercurial liquid. But the tears were contained, approaching the barrier but never quite spilling over onto his face. The pain was like a dagger, twisting by degrees further into his stomach, seeking out what was vital within him, putting poison in his blood. He turned and held out his hand to her, a wordless offer as well as an unspoken request. They both needed comfort rather desperately, he thought.

Ginny heaved a sigh, slipping her hand into his gently, moving towards him, suddenly pressed lightly against his side, shutting her eyes. "I'm sorry, Draco. This is all my fault... if I had just stayed away from you maybe this wouldn't have involved you."

She sighed again, letting the tears fall, just letting her emotions flow freely as did her tears. "You don't deserve this, Draco. You don't deserve this. You should have just ran when you could've. You should have played the coward's part. I wouldn't have thought any less of you."

Draco folded her in his arms, drawing her closer against his side. He pressed a light kiss to the crown of hair. "Don't blame yourself, Ginny, please. My father and Voldemort would have called for me, regardless of whether you and I had gotten close. My loyalty has been shaky in their eyes for months now... they've been searching for a way to test me... and please don't tell me you regret what's happened between us. Being with you is the only thing keeping me sane right now." Indeed, as he spoke to her, his arms were tight around her, clinging as if she were an anchor in the middle of a hurricane.

Ginny felt choked up at his words, and it was hard for her to answer at first, burying her face against Draco's chest. "I'd never regret any of it, Draco. I'm only sorry I didn't do this sooner..." Her voice trailed, almost like there was something more, but she was silent for a moment. Only after she took a deep, calming breath, did she continue.

"If... if I end up having to use the bracelet... and... and I start to get sick from it... I might die." She bit on her lip. "But.. I just wanted you to know, Draco... that... that I don't regret anything. If I had been more mature, maybe I would have seen how much hurt, how much pain you were in."

She swallowed hard. "Now we might not even have very much time left together."

Draco felt like he couldn't breathe. It just all hurt too much. The pain of their future and pain of their past coalesced in the air, charging it with electricity. The lingering scent of Voldemort's presence was metallic, like lightning and blood.

Draco grasped Ginny by the shoulders, turning to face her squarely, their bodies close enough to trade each other's meager warmth. There was a sort of manic desperation welling up inside him like a repressed scream, bursting to get out. He wanted to rage and snarl and throw things, he wanted to tear at walls till his fingers were raw and bleeding. Yet at the same time he was tired, and weak. He wanted to just curl up in a corner and shiver till everything hurtful had passed.

His eyes were darting over hers. "Ginny-" he started, but the invisible bands around his chest tightened further and he was back to fighting off the pain, trying not to imagine her fair skin paper-white with illness, her body emaciating as the Grimorie drained her life away. "Ginny... I..."

But Draco never knew what he might of said, because suddenly he was leaning his head down, closing the last distance between them, and capturing her mouth with his own. Into his kiss he put everything he couldn't articulate with words. His lips moved lightly over hers and that was his passion. His ragged breaths intermingled with hers, and that was his anger. His fingers convulsed over her back as he drew her nearer, and that was his panic and fear. He kissed her with everything that he was, kissed her as if he could absorb her through his mouth, kissed her as if she were oxygen and he was a drowning man.

The look on his face was enough to kill her ten times over, and it almost did. "Draco..." Ginny began, trying feebly to find something to say, but she was cut off by the abrupt kiss, which she didn't even expect to come.

It wasn't just some ordinary kiss, either.

It was an incredible, earth-shattering kiss.

Ginny's eyes shut, though she was unsure if it was from the sheer pleasure of the moment, or because she wanted to shut out the world and forget everything except the pleasure that was Draco Malfoy kissing her.

It was the most intimate thing that Ginny had ever felt, and she felt as if she were baring her soul to him, her most secret thoughts, as if her heart were bare before him and she had nothing to hide.

It scared her for a mere moment, and then it was pure bliss. It sent shivers of excitement down her spine, and it was so intense she wasn't sure if she wanted to pull away or to let the power of it overwhelm her and suck her in forever.

But she was leaning towards the latter choice.