They All Fall Down
Don't you know what I'm thinking?
Know that I'm thinking?
You know I miss you
Don't you know that I miss you?
I toast to you
Your whisper
Your smile
-If You Don't Don't, by Jimmy Eat World
"Damn!" Draco cursed loudly, lobbing a heavy textbook across the room. The dull thud it made on the moth-eaten carpet failed to improve his mood. If he continued to study, he was going to turn into a bloody Granger. What the hell was he doing here?
The entire house was decrepit and reeked of stale potions and rotting hardwood. It was the last place he expected Dumbledore's self-righteous Order of the Phoenix to hold headquarters. In the shadows.
An acute sense of claustrophobia was creeping over him, but he didn't dare leave the room. The first time he stepped out into the dank hallway, he happened to trip over a doxy nest and about five full-grown doxies attacked him. All his shouting and cursing caused a bunch of sleeping portraits to wake up and scream insults until they were bloody hoarse. Frightened the hell out of him.
And then, even if he managed to make it outside the door unharmed, he would inevitably run into the inhabitants of the house, which were definitely worse than a couple of doxy bites.
They didn't trust him. None of them did. And he couldn't really blame them. Draco pushed himself upright and stared at his reflection in a dusty mirror hung crookedly on the wall. So much like his father.
- - - - -
A tiny, ancient house elf nervously gave its master his breakfast, its withered hands quivering. Lucius Malfoy smirked. Merlin knows how much power you can receive in comparison to the weak.
"Elf!" Lucius commanded, for his servant had turned and began to scurry away. The elf froze and turned slowly and bowed again.
"Master Lucius, Dongo is at your service," the elf rasped.
"Where is my wife? Not still sleeping, at this hour? Fetch her immediately."
The elf murmured, "Yes, Master," and vanished with a crack.
Lucius smirked again, satisfied. Power. Over the Ministry, over his servants, over his wife, and his very own son. The Dark Lord was the only one above him, rightfully. It was through his Master that he commanded so much authority in the first place. Lucius carefully spread marmalade on a slice of toast, frowning. It was so unlike Narcissa to oversleep… He had business for her to attend to for him.
Crack. The house elf had returned, and was trembling all over Its tennis-ball sized eyes were flickering wildly around the room, and it seemed utterly terrified.
"What?" Lucius barked harshly at it. He was beginning to feel the stirrings of emptiness in his stomach, and it was the most unsettling thing… Lucius hadn't felt the sensation since he was seventeen years old.
"Mistress is…gone sir."
The elf's terrified words reverberated on the high ceilings and seemed to echo in disbelief.
"WHAT?" Malfoy bellowed, losing all composure. He had gotten up so suddenly that the elf was thrown to the floor. Lucius stormed away, kicking the elf brutally in the stomach when he passed. The poor creature could do nothing more than clutched his stomach while he punished himself, tearing at its flesh.
She would never leave him. She wouldn't. She couldn't!
There was an eerie calm brewing from his toes upward, the dead feeling pumping through his bloodstream.
"You will never leave me, Narcissa. I would never let you."
"I cannot let you kill my son."
Something burst within him, and her last words came flooding back. That bitch! Didn't she know that he would always find her? Her scent was ingrained into his every fiber after being with her for the last seventeen years! It would draw him to her, no matter where she was hiding.
But the very fact that she dared! Dared to defy his authority! She would pay so very dearly for that. The inhuman anger began to simmer and froth, boiling and scalding his every nerve. His brain fuzzed and rational thought was altogether impossibly. The Veela blood through his veins began to transform him into something more formidable than a simple wizard. She was gone!
Her chamber was bare and hollow. The only thing that remained was her maddening scent that overpowered everything.
The violent shaking started from his hands, and soon his entire body shook with the effort of restraint. He wouldn't be able to take it—nothing could. He would destroy the whole manor if it meant getting rid of her scent forever!
He plunged his hand down the front of his robes and drew his wand, and began to blast apart everything in sight. Lucius didn't event think about the curses he was using, they just burst from him angrily.
The scent finally dissipated under the heavier, smothering smoke. Lucius quickly put out the fire. His head slowly emptied of the boiling, all-consuming fury. He realized what had become of his mate, and his hands began to shake all over again.
Narcissa had gone to Draco. To save him, he thought scathingly. His idiot female thought she was going to play the hero, did she? Slytherins never were heroes. He would teach her. By trying to save her son, she doomed him. Draco would not live much farther than eighteen.
Suddenly, the thought struck him. Why not kill two birds with one stone? Or two blood-traitors, should he say? Lucius smirked.
He turned on his heel and stalked to his own chamber.
"ELF!" He bellowed. Within a second the miserable elf had appeared beside him. "Fetch me my quill and parchment! And something to drink!"
The elf was already back, handing him a neat scroll of parchment and, trying to control his trembling hand, a crystal goblet of firewhiskey. Lucius took it without sparing the elf a glance. He thoughtfully put the tip of his quill in a pot of ink and was about to take a sip from his drink when a muted squeak drew his attention. The elf was still there.
"What the bleeding hell now?" he barked at the creature. It was repeatedly hitting itself over the head. What was wrong with that stupid thing?
It must be punishing itself, he thought with a savage pleasure. But for what? It had done what he said… he looked back at the amber liquid swirling around in his goblet.
"Poisonous," He muttered. His vision became blurry; colors were swirling around him vividly, but he snarled. The drink had congealed a little where the drink met the crystal. Tiny crystals had formed there.
Narcissa had tried to poison him! But what she didn't know was that his goblet had enchantments placed on it to detect the presence of poison—he had put them there himself.
Anger, bleeding red, flashed through his eyes. He had half a mind to dump the drink unceremoniously onto the floor. But then another thought hit him.
"Elf, here." He pushed the goblet back into the creature's trembling hands. "Drink this. Now."
Obediently, the elf raised the goblet to its wasted lips and swallowed a large gulp. Firewhiskey alone would already give an elf alcohol poisoning, but the poison worked so fast, the elf had hit the floor with a frail thud within the second.
Smirking, Lucius grabbed a fistful of floo powder and threw it into the grate, where an emerald flame roared to life. It was time to put a few things into action.
"Hogwarts!"
- - - - -
Dear Draco, She wrote carefully at the top of her parchment. What does one say to Draco Malfoy? She wondered, staring out of the small window by her four-poster. The sun had cast a fiery glow on the grounds, slowly sinking behind the forested hills.
Ginny could only imagine how horrible being locked up in Grimmauld Place must be for Draco. He must be going mad just about now… it's been three whole days. Suddenly she was fighting back nausea.
"What's wrong with me?" she whispered to herself. She felt empty. Isolated from the rest of the world. Was this what he had been talking about?
"And you, you will live a life always half-empty, because you'll always be missing something. Something that completes you. And that would be me."
"Of course," she sighed, and bent her head to complete her letter.
It's been horrid here without you. None of the Gryffindors will even look at me anymore, so I only really talk to Luna. And even Blaise, on occasion. He's okay.
I miss you.
It gets worse before it gets better, you know. But it won't be long before break, and I can come see you. We could have so much fun together, locked up in that house…
Soon,
Ginny
"That's very touching, Weasley," a silky voice said from behind her, making her jump.
"How did you get in here?" her voice wavered, frightened.
"Is that any way to greet your father-in-law?" Lucius Malfoy asked in a deadly, cold voice.
"What do you want?" Ginny's eyes narrowed, and she slipped her hand under her robe discreetly, fingering her wand.
"I only want the best for my son, of course." Malfoy smirked. "And that, my dear blood traitor, is not you."
"Crucio!" he shouted, drawing his wand so fast it blurred. But she expected it, and she was faster.
"PROTEGO!" she countered, drawing up a faint blue, protective shield between her and Lucius. The curse bounced off her shield and shot back towards him, forcing him to duck. The unforgivable curse had caused her shield to crack, and it dissipated.
It was no more than a split second after Lucius realized the shield was broken that a curse hit Ginny so hard that it blasted her from her chair, causing her to hit her head on the wall with a sickening crunch.
Dazed and disoriented, Ginny tried to blink the hot blood out of her eyes. Her arm was bent at such a shocking angle, and she didn't understand…
"You are such a worthless excuse for a witch." Malfoy stood over her, sneering. "No son of mine will ever marry a Weasley," he spat. "Ever."
That was the last thing she heard before the darkness pulled her under, not to resurface.
- - - - -
She drifted, she dreamed. It was as if she was floating underwater, inches from breaking the surface. Ginny had already tried struggling to reach the surface, but it was so exhausting… it was much nicer to just lay and rest in the cool, dark water… watching the distorted images above her.
She saw her mother's worried brown eyes surrounded by a cloud of red hair, but Ginny really didn't want to have to listen to her constant 'mollycoddling' as Fred and George would say…
At one point, she was even sure she saw Ron's long freckled nose and violent red hair in his eyes… And next to him—that couldn't be Harry? The bottle-green eyes stood out more than anything. She tried to shut out the images, close her eyes…
Draco's soft, dark grey eyes watched her from hooded lids, hungrily... She gasped and the water was rough around her, pushing her forward, into the light…
"Ginny?" an anxious voice asked. Hermione.
"Merlin, she's awake!" Ron yelled, and Harry shoved him.
"Shut up, Ron!"
"OUT, now!" The fourth, stern voice was Madam Pomfrey, brandishing her wand. "Miss Weasley needs peace and quiet, or it will send her back into a relapse!"
They hurried out.
Ginny groaned. Every inch of her body ached, and her head felt like it would explode.
"Shh… drink this up." Madam Pomfrey tilted an orange potion to her lips. "Good girl."
Ginny sunk back into unconsciousness.
- - - - -
"What do you mean, it failed?" Narcissa shrieked, twisting her fingers in her lap.
"He must have realized that the drink was poisoned," Dumbledore said calmly. "Maybe a sneakoscope tipped him off. But don't worry; the Order will take care of him."
"Take care of him!" she exclaimed, her voice scathing. "I doubt it. He's so very well protected.
Dumbledore looked up, intrigued. "How so?"
- - - - -
"FILTHY HALF-BLOODS, SCUM MUDBLOODS, BESMIRCHING THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS— HOW DARE YOU SET FOOT IN THE NOBLE AND MOST ANCIENT HOUSE OF BLACK?"
The portrait of the screaming woman woke Draco from his nap, and he scowled in the direction of the entrance hall. But after five solid minutes of hair-raising screaming that wasn't silenced, Draco figured that something important might be going on that everybody couldn't be bothered to shut it up. He crept carefully into the dark landing and down the narrow staircase.
Suddenly, the alluring fragrance hit him, causing his heart to race and his head to spin. She was near.
He sprinted down the stairs and discovered the entrance hall full of people shrieking and hugging each other.
"Ginny! We're so glad you're okay," Tonks exclaimed, and Draco's feet surged forward of their own accord.
He pulled Ginny carefully into his warm embrace, and their heartbeats began to match the same rhythm.
"My Draco," She breathed on his neck, pressing her lips lightly over the point where she could feel his pulse.
"Ginny," he whispered, pulling her flush against him. "But why are you here? Christmas break doesn't start for another two weeks. Is everything okay?"
She smiled weakly. "It was kind of a matter of my safety…" she hedged. Draco growled in response.
"I don't understand."
"Your father," she whispered, shuddering against him.
"My father?" he snarled, pulling back and staring questioningly at her. "What did he do?" he demanded.
"He came to Hogwarts, looking for you. And he attacked me."
Draco tried to say something, but his throat was so tight it just came out as a strangled, "No!"
Ginny felt his entire body seize up in fury, and she put her hands on either side of his face, forcing him to look at her. "Draco. Calm down. I'm here now."
"And so are we," an angry voice chimed in behind her, and Draco looked up, over her shoulder to see Ron Weasley glaring daggers at him, his fists clenched. Harry Potter was next to him in a similar composure, followed by the rest of the Weasley family, their eyes filled with anger, every drip of it directed towards him.
Oh, shit.
- - - - -
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