ANTITHETICAL By Mignonne and Sellene
Disclaimer - We do not own Harry Potter. Please don't sue us for writing this fic. Between us, we have like ten bucks and we need to go to college and stuff so.... Most of the characters are OOC anyway
CHAPTER ONE - In Which The Curse Is Explained
"Come back." a wavering call emitted from the shadowy forest.
need you." The wispy voice was louder this time strengthening into a
familiar tone. "I need you.Come to me.Please."
Panic rose from the pit of her stomach and her breath came in short breaths. Where was he? She needed to find him - she held knowledge that would save his life. Her head gyrated wildly as the midnight fog clouded her vision. Crickets sang and owls hooted in the still dark night. She spun around in the clearing, unsure of where to go.
"Here," came the whisper once more. Gratefully, she ran towards the flickering light. From out of the mist came the faint outline of a wooden cabin.
"I need you." his voice was so clear and strong she was sure he would be inside.
She threw the door open violently and from the threshold poured glowing rays that warmed her cold body. Harry Potter sat calmly in a large armchair by the fireplace. He stood as she entered, a loving smile on his face. Relieved, she ran into his comforting embrace. The flannel of his pajamas rubbed softly against her skin as she buried her face in his chest.
"It was Draco all along!" she cried. "Oh, Harry, we've got to alert Dumbledore."
Abruptly, the door opened with a creaking swing and a fair-haired figure entered the desolate room. Harry stood stoically in place, without so much as a flinch.
"Do something, Harry!" Ginny screamed to no avail. The raven-haired hero was rooted to his spot as Draco Malfoy paced forward. In pure panic, Ginny pulled her silver knife from its sheath and sent it flying into evil's heart.
Horror wove itself across her face as the blonde hair turned to black and the gray eyes to green. In the villain's place stood Harry, a knife embedded in his chest.
She whirled around to where her hero had stood. In his place was Draco Malfoy, a cold smile spreading across his ghostly face.
"Yes, it was me all along but who killed your precious Potter?" A fit of harsh laughter erupted from his throat. Ginny sank to the ground in silent shock as blood flooded the floor, pooling around them. The thick crimson liquid slowly rose, drenching the three figures in the room. Devil red poured around Ginny, pricking her, choking her, cutting her. Suddenly, she was drowning. Desperately fighting for life, she swam up to the top of the cabin, gasping in breath. The blood continued to rise until all she saw was dark vermilion slowly eating away at her. The deafening roar of the blood crashed in waves against the cabin walls and the nauseating stench consumed her senses. The thick redness faded into a dark void and all that was left was icy Malfoy eyes piercing her heart.
Ginny Weasley awoke with a gasp. She scanned her surroundings wildly, trying to rid her mind of the boring image of Draco Malfoy's pulpils. Running a hand through wavy red locks, she willed herself to forget the abstract nightmare and gazed out the rain-covered windows of the Hogwarts Express headed towards her sixth year of school. The red velvet seats contrasted sharply against the day's dreary weather.
It seemed not long ago that she was on the same train, eager to be home for the summer. The summer that should have been great, a relaxing period in which she could recover from the stressful horror of the fifth year final exams. For the first few weeks, that's exactly what she did: relax. Her best friend, Yvette, even came to stay at the Burrow for three weeks.
It had been hard going back to Hogwarts after such a disastrous first year. Many students avoided the girl who opened the Chamber of Secrets. She was never completely lonely, but she also never had a true best friend, the kind to confess her soul to. Ginny had drifted from friend to friend for many years before Yvette Delacour transferred from Beauxbatons and befriended her without reservation. Ginny was grateful to have Yvette as a friend, but it was awful to always be in her shadow, for Yvette was part veela.
Ginny sighed. No boy would notice a normal girl next to a veela. On to her next problem: boys. Following Harry Potter like a puppy for five years kills a girl's love life. Now that Harry and Hermione confirmed what Ginny always suspected by becoming a couple, she vowed to move on. Ginny sighed once more, wondering where Yvette had wandered off to.
Meanwhile, on another part of the Hogwarts express, a game of cat and mouse had ensued.
The sound of Pansy Parkinson's voice intensified by each passing second. "Draco? Draco honey, where did you go?"
Draco muttered a silent prayer for escape, darting into the nearest seat facing away from Pansy's direction. She wandered past him, still calling his name. He sank down into the plush cushions, exhaling a breath of relief. However, when he turned to the seat next to him, he was met by Virginia Weasley's profile. She didn't acknowledge his presence, turning away instead. Seeing her sent his summer crashing down on him.
Draco hurried through the dank halls of the Malfoy Mansion towards his father's study where Lucius often lectured him on Malfoy family history, among other things. Draco prepared himself as he pushed open one of the double doors to the room. He dreaded with all his heart this particular lecture for it was the final week of summer and every year, this lecture was always horrendously long and vicious, punctuated with many sharp insults and sometimes even sharper blows.
"You're late," Lucius Malfoy coldly greeted his son. "Seems you've finally decided to grace this room with your presence."
"Good evening to you too, Father, " Draco replied.
He stood before Lucius's desk waiting for an invitation to sit.
Though he had been within his father's study walls many times, it still resonated an eerie and unpleasant mood. Tapestries illustrating morbid scenes covered the stone walls and beneath his feet was a soft Persian carpet that blanketed icy, marble tiled floors. Mahogany chairs placed by the large executive desk were made somewhat comfortable with dragon hide cushions. The dim lighting of the fireplace caste dark shadows that danced and flickered on the walls. The only other light source was candles on the antique chandelier that burned low but never burned out. The room was completed by crystal glass cases that displayed magnificent yet dreadful objects of Dark Magic.
"Don't stand there like an idiot, boy!" Lucius Malfoy barked. "Sit."
Draco flopped down in one of the chairs in front of his father's desk, where an icy gray glare, not unlike his own, was pelted at him. Draco quickly straightened his posture.
"Well, boy. Do you know why you're here?"
Before Draco could open his mouth to respond, Lucius answered his own question.
"Everything seems to slip out of the miniscule brain of yours, Draco, at least anything concerning the proud heritage of the Malfoys."
Draco rebelled silently. He knew more than he wanted to about Malfoy ancestry, but he also knew better than to argue.
Since his second year at Hogwarts, Lucius burdened him with extensive assignments, most of which pertained to the dark arts. He read innumerable books with countless pages, wrote infinite essays by candlelight, and even practiced dark magic on rodents. Once in fourth year, he was forced to study muggles to get acquainted with their lifestyle.
"You have to know your enemies," Lucius had said. Without complaint, Draco followed his father's every word as a perfect son would. He didn't dare oppose his father, not since the incident.
Sitting in the study awaiting the lecture's commencement, Draco allowed his mind to wander back to that fateful day, the day when he learned his greatest lesson.
Towards the end of his second year at Hogwarts, Draco rebelled for his first and only time. He had felt overwhelmed with final examinations and the extra obligations his father presented him with were far too cumbersome. At first, he tried to juggle the workload, but in the end he gave in. Grudgingly, he owled home in protest, expecting a fierce howler the next morning. Instead the long list of assignments simply stopped, flooding him with relief.
Upon the arrival of summer vacation, Draco eagerly hurried home to show Lucius his final report card. He had placed within the top five of the class in every subject and-
His trance of remembrance was interrupted as his father began the lecture.
"Many generations ago, the Malfoy family was involved with an ongoing feud with upstart serfs. An extremely powerful wizard was caught between the two and was fatally injured. On his deathbed, he caste a spell, cursing both families."
Draco had mastered the skill of shutting out his Lucius's voice while keeping an attentive mien. He mentally closed his eyes and continued to replay the old memory as the lecture droned on.
Arriving home on that eventful day, he had rushed into the parlor to greet his parents. He barely made it into the room before Lucius seized hold of him and dragged him down into the dungeons.
Despite fervent protests from Draco, Lucius violently jerked him into the cold jail underneath the main castle, chaining him to a bloodstained wall. By then Draco was in tears, which enraged Lucius even more.
"Why are you crying, boy?" he had snarled. "A child of mine would never cry." With that, Lucius stormed out of the room and shut the door.
Draco had sat in the darkness, his father's livid voice still echoing in his ears. Even recollecting of the ferocious hostility in his tone sent chills up Draco's spine. Though Lucius wasn't a gentle and warm man who embraced his family with kindness, he had never been abusive, at least not before his son's eyes.
In the dungeons Draco sat, the frigid air and empty darkness drilling into his spirit. He rarely cried, even as a small child, but the tears flowed freely then, like pebbles tumbling down a cliff in an earthquake. He thought his father would be proud of his marks, so why did he lock him up?
Draco had suspected Lucius would hold a foul disposition after another plan to revive Voldemort had failed, but that wasn't his fault. When the tears had finally stopped, Draco hugged his knees to his chest in despair. Then it all clicked: Lucius was angry because Draco had complained about the extra homework assignments.
To Draco, Lucius had always been the perfect role model. He admired his father's commanding presence and position in the ministry. He admired his ruthless climb to power and his place of prominence in the dark lord's eyes. But on that day in his thirteenth year of life, Draco Malfoy was disillusioned. He was chained in the dark room for two days without food, water, or any human contact before the dungeon door creaked open.
"Don't you dare defy me ever again!" His father's ireful holler still resonated fiercely in his mind. "I was busy with the dark lord's plans for resurrection, and I was considerate enough to think of you! But what do you do? You refuse to learn about the dark arts. You write a letter home, whining! Well, listen here. If you even think about disobeying me again, I'll disown you, leave you on the streets like I would a worthless mudblood."
It was then that Draco understood. He may have seen Lucius as a father, but Lucius certainly didn't see him as a son. In Lucius's eyes, he was nothing but an object to be molded, another weapon to fashion for the dark lord. Draco did obey his father since his brief imprisonment. Perhaps Lucius intended the punishment to be another step in chiseling away Draco's independence, but it only awakened him from the mirage, it only pushed his spirit out of his father's grasp forever.
"They would be united by the marriage of a Malfoy male to a commoner's daughter," Lucius spat, as Draco awakened himself from his thoughts. His father carried on the speech without halting. "Xavier Malfoy refused to accept this and tried to reverse the curse. After many years he successfully completed one of the most awesome spells of all time. Your glorious ancestor insured that the marriage would occur far into the future, for both families would have only sons, giving the Malfoys time to rise to power." he paused. Draco roused himself enough to look appreciative. Lucius continued much to Draco's astonishment. On other days, Draco would have been locked up for daydreaming but not today.
"For centuries the serf family had only son after son. Unfortunately even now there is no reversal to the ancient curse. Xavier Malfoy tried to save our family with his spell, but the serf family has had a daughter."
Draco stared into his father's silvery eyes, seeing a reflection of himself in his pupils. Draco sensed that Lucius was anticipating a response of some sort. He snapped into reality, suddenly aware of the seriousness embedded in the situation.
"Would I be correct in assuming that I'm the Malfoy son who has to marry the serf's female descendant?"
Lucius snorted. "That would be quite obvious."
Draco said nothing. He stared back into his father's cold eyes, trying to believe he didn't mean to radiate such animosity. However, over the years of being a Death Eater and a practitioner of Dark Arts, it seemed to Draco that that was the only kind of aura Lucius could emit.
"Well, boy? Aren't you're a least bit interested in learning the name of the wench you must marry?" he continued after a long silence.
"Yes, father," Draco replied almost automatically. After a moment of thought, he added, "But first, what would happen if I refuse marry her?"
"The consequences of disobeying the curse of a powerful wizard is a slow and painful death to all involved." The bitterness was obvious in Lucius's tone.
"Slow and painful death.fun," Draco thought sarcastically. He displayed no signs of emotion. In truth, he didn't hate "commoners" as much as Lucius would have liked but to marry one because of an ancient curse seemed rather demeaning to one with Malfoy blood.
"I want you to know that you have no decision to make in this arrangement. You will marry the girl whether you want to or not," Lucius said, leaning over his desk so that his face nearly touched Draco's.
"Who is she?"
"Weasley. Virginia Weasley."
Draco pictured Ginny Weasley, trying to remember her face. All he could remember was some idiotic poem she made up about Potter.
"That's the girl I'm going to marry," he thought. He always knew that Lucius would have a say in his choice of marriage, but an arranged one was unexpected, even from his father. Draco came out of his reverie and stared at the back of Ginny's head.
Ginny didn't bother to look at the boy sitting next to her. She knew who he was.
"Just try and be nice to him," her father had said. At the end of summer, Arthur Weasley mysteriously instructed her to befriend Draco Malfoy. She complained to Percy and he too tried to convince her to do so.
"Why, Percy? I don't get it. He's Malfoy," Ginny whined.
Percy sighed. "Sometimes, you just have to do certain things in life, even when you don't want to."
"Don't patronize me," she snapped.
"Ginny. I want you to know that we, your family, all love you very much. You are very important to us, but Lucius Malfoy and Dad have agreed. You and Draco should start to get to know each other. Please, Ginny. Do it for us."
Ginny had shrieked in frustration and stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut. No one wanted to explain to her why she had to be friends with Draco Malfoy. After days of pleading from her family, and days of frustrated shrieks from Ginny, she agreed to try to be civil to him.
And here she was being civil to him. "Look at my civility!" she shrieked silently to her father. Draco Malfoy was sitting right next to her in Yvette's seat and she hadn't made one rude remark.
The soft pitter-patter of raindrops dribbled on. Draco and Ginny sat side by side, trying to ignore one another. Ginny was glaring at an invisible Yvette. What kind of best friend was she? She had to hurry back and force Malfoy to leave. Even with her head turned to the side, Ginny could see his face reflected in the train window staring at her in an odd manner.
She then tried to block out the sight of him the only way possible: firmly clenching her eyes shut. Try as she might, she could not keep her mind awake with her eyes closed and continuous raindrops droning in her ears. Ginny resigned herself to sleep.
Draco tallied the awkward moments of his life. This definitely ranked somewhere in the top ten. He had been humiliated, disparaged, and defeated numerous times, but having a loss of words was new.
As soon as he thought it couldn't get any worse, he noticed a weight on his arm. Draco looked down at the red head that was burrowing into his side. Draco shifted his weight uneasily, glancing around hoping that no one would see Ginny Weasley sleeping comfortably on his shoulder. He moved his arm, lightly pushing her away. She swayed from him and fell into his lap. She stirred, only to rearrange herself in a more comfortable position. Her head snuggled onto Draco's lap and she curled up close to him with one arm secured around his waist.
Deciding the situation had gone to far, he prodded at Ginny in hopes that she'd wake up. She only nestled closer to him. Cautiously, he lifted her upper body up so that she no longer lay in his lap and set her back against his arm. He sighed. This would be one long ride to Hogwarts.
Draco glared at Ginny's sleeping face but his cold eyes softened as noticed her unique beauty for the first time. He'd seen her of course in the past, but she was only Weasley's little sister, the pathetic girl who pined after Harry Potter. But now, he really saw her, the sweet innocent face of a sleeping angel framed by locks of red hair. Long eyelashes brushed against her cheeks and a few freckles were sprinkled across her chiseled nose. Her porcelain face was completed with luscious lips that begged for a kiss.
At least she was pretty. Then again so was Pansy who he honestly could not stand.
He couldn't help but flinch at every noise coming from outside the compartment. This was ridiculous. Why was Ginny Weasley sleeping on him? He slowly extracted himself, gently lowering her to the train seat. She stirred again. Suddenly, her eyes flew open and she grabbed at his shirt, pulling him down upon her.
"What are you doing, Malfoy?" she hissed. Draco glanced at their precarious position: his body was leaned entirely over hers. If he had bent a little lower, he would have been on her. A normal boy might have blushed, but Draco Malfoy was not a normal boy.
"I was setting you on the seat after you feel asleep on me, Weasley. What were you doing?"
Ginny blushed and opened her mouth to unleash an angry retort but stopped herself. "Sorry," she mumbled out. Draco was taken back. Sorry? That was unexpected.
"Well, you should be Weasley," he replied. "Do you want to let go of my robes now? I mean, we could take this a step further."
Ginny blushed even redder and quickly released her hold on his designer robes. Draco couldn't help but notice how much the blush complimented her face. He sat down in the seat facing her and looked out the window. All signs of rain had disappeared and they were fast approaching Hogwarts. He sighed. What kind of name was Hogwarts? There was no elegance or grace in it. In fact, it sounded like a word from the imagination of a four-year-old. Hoggy. Warty. Hogwarts. But try as he may to hide it, there was strong school spirit buried in Draco. When Death Eaters compared it to Durmstrang, his anger boiled. He guessed Lucius shared the same pride, at least enough to not send him to another wizarding academy.
Draco was yanked rudely out of his thoughts by the sounds of giggling and yelling from idiotic first years running though the corridors. Definitely not Slytherins, he decided. He looked at Ginny, who was busy heaving her bags from the various compartments. He secretly chuckled as the petite girl jumped, reaching for her bag.
"Jump Weasel! Higher!" he teased, a snide smile playing across his face.
Ginny glared at him and jumped higher, still unable to reach her bag. He knew, according to proper etiquette, he should help her but she was just too amusing to watch.
"Enjoying the view, Malfoy?" she gritted out finally.
Draco reached up easily and grabbed her trunk. "More than you imagine," he whispered, leaning over so his lips gently grazed her ear. He left her compartment and strode down the corridor, whistling softly to himself.
The first years crowded nervously before the sorting hat at the front of the Great Hall. Candles hovered in the air, and the charmed ceiling revealed the dazzling stars of the night sky.
Ginny absentmindedly sorted the children herself. "Hmm.not a Gryffindor, oh she'd make a great Keeper in quidditch.Slytherin definitely. He looks sweet, but smart. Hmmm.Ravenclaw, maybe a Gryffindor." She glanced at the Slytherin table. Draco sat opposite of Crabbe and Goyle, staring straight at her. Their eyes clashed. Ginny refused to blush: he was the one staring at her. She prepared herself for a brutal starring contest with Slytherin's most prominent future death eater. Except the icy, prominent future death eater winked jokingly, bringing a smile to her lips. She couldn't help it. Draco Malfoy winked; the whole idea was ludicrous. Their contact was broken as Pansy Parkinson threw herself at Draco's back, resting her head on the crane of his neck.
and looked down at her plate.
"The first banquet of the year is always so dull," Draco complained. Crabbe and Goyle agreed clumsily. He turned his eyes to the first years. Most looked like they were on the verge of a mental breakdown.
Arriving at the conclusion that they were all cowards, he then turned his attention to the Gryffindor table. Harry Potter and the Granger girl were talking, giving each other lovesick looks. Potter's redheaded sidekick was trying to get the attention of Yvette Delacour.
Next to her, was Ginny. She played around with a strand of her soft, gold-streaked red hair, looking dejected. Draco saw her lift her head and watch the first years with mild interest. She turned to his direction. For a moment her eyes searched the Slytherin table, finally locking her gaze with him. Grey met brown like the foggy sky would falling leaves on a crisp autumn day. The few seconds that their eyes shared lasted forever. All around him, Slytherins cheered as another first year joined the table, but he didn't move. Her eyes presented a challenge, refusing to back down and break her gaze.
He winked and thought he saw the corners of her mouth tugging up. He realized that the normally cheerful Ginny hadn't smiled since their arrival at Hogwarts. Draco found himself almost eager to see her cheerful grin when a heavily perfumed girl threw herself at him.
"Hello, Draco honey," she purred into his ear.
He was hardly able to suppress his groan. Pansy was probably one of the most attractive girls and most irritating in school with her strawberry blonde hair and deep green eyes that were framed with thick lashes. Her pouty lips and perky nose completed her perfect complexion. Despite her good looks and slim, curvy body, Draco despised her. She was irritating, superficial, and overly possessive. Ever since the Yule ball in fourth year, Pansy had made it clear that Draco was her man. Well it sure had been news to his ears. He had explained to her that he simply wasn't interested. She had either ignored his protests completely or said, "Oh, Draco. I know you love me," or," Draco, you don't know what you're saying. How come you haven't gotten any flowers for me? All the other girls get them." Finally he gave up, resorting to avoiding her as much as possible. He nodded along as she described her inane activities of the day.
away incessantly, relieved to have averted his attention from the Gryffindor
table. It seemed that he and Ginny Weasley were making eye contact, something
that she couldn't afford.
"Hey, Yvette," said Ron, tapping on her shoulder. "That girl looks part veela."
"Who?" she asked, lazily.
"The girl next to Padma at the Ravenclaw table."
"No, she isn't blonde enough."
"Are you sure?" Ron questioned.
She glanced condescendingly at him.
"We veela have a sixth sense about these things," she explained with an air of superiority. She opened her mouth to say more, but before she could, Dumbledore began to speak. It was time for the beginning of the year speech and song. Afterwards, when Ron turned to Yvette once more, she was already engrossed in conversation with Dean Thomas.
He sighed and turned to his two best friends who seemed to be having way too much fun for just eating spaghetti. Ron then looked at his little sister, expecting her to be giving disappointed looks to Harry. He started at the sight of the empty space that Ginny occupied only a moment ago.
Ginny groaned. She was usually excited by the prospect of new first years but today was not her day. Not only were Harry and Hermione giggling far too much for sixth years, but Ron had sat between her and Yvette. She pushed away her untouched plate and walked towards the banquet doors. Who would notice? Yvette was caught up with Dean Thomas, Ron was caught up with Yvette, and Harry and Hermione were caught up with each other. As she passed by the tables, she noticed many more couples than years before. Perhaps it was just her imagination. Passing the Slytherin table, she scanned it for Draco. Surprisingly, he was nowhere to be found. Ah well, he's probably making out with Pansy Parkinson in a hall closet, she thought. Ginny opened the Great Hall doors and stepped into the familiar halls.
She picked up her pace as she headed for the Gryffindor Tower, stopping in front of the fat lady's portrait. What was the password? She groaned, coming to the realization that they hadn't been given the new password yet.
"Need some help Weasley?" came a voice, drifting towards her. Ginny mentally pounded her head against the wall. Today was definitely not a good day.
"Well, Malfoy. You certainly have a knack for showing up where you're not wanted."
"Not wanted? I think not, you were crying out for the attention of a good looking Slytherin."
"Really, who would that be?" she drawled.
"Surely, you know the answer to that," he said coming closer. "Even Weasley's aren't that thick."
Ginny growled in response.
He continued with a smirk, "If you want a place to sleep, my door is always open." With that, he walked away.
Ginny growled again. Malfoy always needed the last word, didn't he? What was with him today? Maybe it was that thing her father and Lucius Malfoy had agreed upon. Or maybe it was just another one of Draco's sick jokes.
That first day was a definite omen. To Ginny, the idea of a guy following her around wasn't completely unappealing. What was unappealing was the fact that the guy was Malfoy, the boy that made fun of her and her family for being poor, for being "muggle-lovers". Her father had asked her to be civil to him. Why? Now, all of a sudden, Malfoy was everywhere. She saw him between her classes, after classes, on Hogsmeade trips. He would make fun of her or tease her, making her fume with anger, or blush with embarrassment. She had not always remained civil. No matter how hard she tried to avoid him, she couldn't manage it. Today, she had even tried a different, longer route to Transfiguration and arrived late. And now she had detention.
Ginny cautiously opened the door and peered inside. The sun had gone down, leaving the empty classroom lit only by candlelight. She slipped into a seat in the front row and waited for a few minutes before McGonagall entered.
"Good evening, Ms. Weasley," she greeted her.
"Good evening, Professor McGonagall."
"You are the only one with detention today. Apparently, your fellow students have a greater respect for punctuality."
"Yes, ma'am," she replied. McGonagall was certainly on the warpath tonight.
"I have a teacher's meeting to attend. I planned on leaving you in the supervision of my top student."
Ginny brightened up a bit. She would at least be with Hermione.
"However, Ms. Granger already had plans for this afternoon."
"Snogging Harry, no doubt," Ginny thought with a touch bitterness.
"So, I'll leave you in the care of my second best student. Behave during your detention, Ginny," she said and strolled out as briskly as she came in. In walked Draco Malfoy.
"Hi Weasel," he said. Ginny gaped at him.
"You're the second best student?"
"Yeah, so?" he snapped.
"So, tell me how much did it take to bribe McGonagall for high marks?" she questioned innocently. She knew that by asking that, she wasn't being "civil" but she couldn't help herself.
"I didn't. A hypnotic curse works the same way," he replied.
Ginny briefly wondered if he was joking.
"Follow me." He turned and left the room. She stood up and hurried to catch up with him. They walked in silence: Draco with long, strong strides and Ginny with quick, scampering steps. He led her to the north lawn. The grass was long and scattered with weeds.
"What happened?" Ginny asked. The grass was usually perfectly kept.
"Sprout tried out some new charms for the lawn. There were a few glitches," he explained.
"Just a few?"
"Fine, they didn't work at all. This week, starting on Tuesday, all students with detention were sent to one of the lawns. Today is Friday, so this is the last portion to fix up."
"Well, am I the only one with detention today?"
"It seems so."
Ginny looked at the large expanse of messy green grass and groaned.
just stand there! Get to work," Draco snapped.
"I'm supposed to mow the lawn in the dark?"
"Lumos," he said airily with a wave of his wand. "Now, start weeding."
Grudgingly, Ginny got on her knees and started pulling out the first patch of weeds she saw.
Draco leaned against a nearby tree and started to read a book, while Ginny weeded of what she estimated to be a fifth of the north lawn. Then she degnomed, tossing the garden gnomes as far as possible. Most hit the tree the Draco was resting by. Unfortunately, she didn't manage to actually hit him. When finished, she was covered with dirt, sweat, and bite marks from the gnomes. Sighing, she trudged towards the lawn mower.
All this work just for being late to class, she thought. She would have been content with five points from Gryffindor or even ten. All this work because of him. Ginny glared in Draco's direction. He had charmed his lighted want to float around her as she worked. She felt a strong urge to grab the wand and snap it in half, but decided against the notion only because she would have to pay for it afterwards. She sighed again and began to cut the grass.
Half an hour later, she completed the task. She collapsed on the neatly trimmed expanse of green and stared up at the sky. Her neck was sticky with sweat. Her robes had grass stains and her hands were covered with dirt and bite marks. Weeds were caught in her wavy red locks, but she was happy. Happy that her work was done and she could return to Gryffindor tower for a good night's sleep.
"Missed a spot." A shadow stood over her, offering her unwanted shade from the mellow moonlight.
Ginny sat up and faced Draco with as much anger and aggression she could muster.
"See, over there, that big patch of weeds."
Ginny looked over at where he was pointing. Sure enough, there was a miniscule weed on the opposite end of the lawn. The illuminated wand danced towards the forlorn looking plant. Ginny heaved herself off the ground. She stood shakily and started towards the wand's lighted trail. Why was everything blurring? She tried to focus on Draco's wand, but one wand became four in her dizzying vision.
Draco glanced up in time to see Ginny hit the ground. "Weasley?" he queried. "Need help walking now?"
There was no response.
"Weasley?" he questioned again worriedly. "Ginny?" he whispered as he got down on his knees. He slid his hands under Ginny's back and slowly lifted her up into his arms. He looked down at her pale face. Her breathing was shallow and she lay dangerously still. Draco quickened his strides to reach the infirmary. He pushed open the door with his back and as he turned, an outraged voice boomed in his ears.
"What have you done to my sister!?"
To be continued.
I hope everyone reading this will review cause fanfic authors such as us LIVE on reviews!!! It's so exciting!! So please fill our simple hearts with joy..=)..p.s the fic gets better in later chapters and a plot appears..;)