A warm breeze drifted softly through the back garden, causing ripples in the small sea of grass and bringing with it the floral scent of late summer. The linen drapes on either side of the window fluttered softly as the floral aromas swept into the kitchen, and birds twittered happily as they hopped and flew about in the gentle light of the oncoming dusk.
A young girl, hair as red as the setting sun and eyes as brown as the earth itself sat in that kitchen, hearing the sounds of nature, but not listening. Feeling the breeze that carried the sweet perfume of the garden, but not breathing it in. She cursed it all. She cursed life, and she cursed life’s ability to be happy when the truth of the matter was that the world was crumbling around them all.
How dare the sun shine in a cloudless sky when the bodies of Order members were falling to the cold, hard dirt? How dare the breeze bring her false feelings of warmth when Harry, Ron and Hermione were out there, somewhere, against all odds with only their courage to keep their hearts beating? How could the birds whistle while a dark force threatened the existence of what was good in the world?
Ginny Weasley was miserable. And she was angry. And she was terrified. Her father and mother were among the rare few of elder Order members remaining. Three brothers “ Bill, Charlie and Ron “ were out there on missions, in death duels, in full-scale battles. Fred and George were fighting the War the best way they knew how: mocking the enemy, making a laugh -- asking for a bloody Dark Mark above their shop, in Ginny’s opinion. Then there was Percy, Merlin knows what he was doing, too proud to come home, too proud to plea for help, trapped under a pile of rubble from crumbling walls; walls that had been foolishly built on a foundation of trusting the wrong people and their ignorant ideas.
Yes, she worried about Percy. He was her brother, of course she worried. Yeah, he was a git. Yes, he was wrong, and no, an “I’m sorry,” wouldn’t hurt. But it didn’t change the fact that sometimes he lay in her nightmares, covered in blood, in some dark forest, with nobody to discover him, nobody to mourn him.
She even worried about her sister-in-law. And the look of pain on her face every time Bill walked out the door, and the trembling arms she wrapped around him every time he came home.
Yes, family was all Ginny Weasley had.
There was nothing else. No security or guarantee that things would turn out right, just the hope she’d have all her family members at the end of this ugly business.
And yet, there she sat, angry at the world and terrified of the future. And trying to tell herself it was okay. This was going to work. She was making the right choice.
She would have to leave. She would have to hide. She would have to risk her life, and leave her family in the dark in the hopes she wouldn’t risk theirs.
She was going to give up the only thing she had.
For him.
She had been sitting in the back garden alone, just for to have room to breathe, to think.
“Ginny.”
She spun around, wand drawn and at the ready. It was dark, and all she could see was a figure. But the voice was unmistakeable. It wasn’t a voice she welcomed.
“Malfoy,” she spat. “What the bloody hell are “”
He staggered into the light, and she gasped at the sight of him. His hair was brown with filth, his skin dirty and blood-stained. There was a purple bruise on his face, under an eye swollen partially shut from a wound that was clearly recent.
“Oh my god,” Ginny gasped, faltering and lowering her wand just slightly as he stood weakly in front of her.
“I look that good, do I?” Malfoy said with a familiar sneer, though it did not carry the familiar tone of pointed disgust.
“Malfoy “ oh, hell, what happened?”
“They don’t want to kill me yet,” he told her. “They want to chase me, they want me to fear for my life. Torture my body and drive my mother to madness with worry while they’re at it.”
“Death Eaters?” Her eyes darted up and down, from his hands to his face and back again. She could not help but be wary of him, no matter what physical state he appeared to be in.
“Yeah,” he muttered, gasping for breath. “I’m an idiot. I fell in with them. I didn’t know what to do. I thought “ I thought that’s what I was supposed to do. But, I “ I failed them. I couldn’t do it. I’m… not capable of… doing what they want me to do. And now, they’re punishing me.”
Ginny shook her head, looking around in fear, feeling her way to the door back into the house. She gripped her want more tightly and kept it aimed at him.
“No, this is a trap,” she said. “I’m not a fool, Malfoy. You fancied yourself up with transfiguration spells, and you’ve come to take me to them or something.”
“Ginny…”
“Stop calling me ‘Ginny’; since when “”
“I’ll call you whatever you want. Just help me.”
“Tell me, then: why me?”
“I don’t have a lot of options. Everyone I know, I know through my family. They all support him. Death Eaters or not, they’d hand me over in a heartbeat. You, your family, I knew that this was where you lived, and that they’d never look for me here. This is the only place I knew to come. You have to believe me.”
Ginny stared at him, unable to think, never mind react. She stood frozen, her wand still ready to hex him into oblivion.
“Ginny, c’mon “ I’m a Slytherin after all. I’ll do what I have to if it means survival,” he continued, as his voice grew weaker and his eyes seemed to lose focus. “I knew that this was where you lived, and that they’d never look for me here. Ginny, this is the only place I knew to come. You have to believe me.”
“Draco, you’ve already said that “”
“Ginny, this is the only place I knew to come,” he repeated, clearly unaware he was doing so, his voice becoming more faint again. “I’m a Slytherin after all. I’ll do what I have to “ Ginny -”
“Draco!”
He fell ungraciously the ground, unconscious. Ginny looked at him hesitantly for a moment, before making a decision and hoping to the ghosts of the founders that it was the right one.
He’d been fatigued from his journeying and injuries, deprived of food, water and sleep. She provided him with what he needed and looked through spell and potion books to find the right combination of treatments for his wounds, many of which were inflicted with dark magic.
She had not told her parents, or any of her siblings. They had their own callings to worry about, and she didn’t feel like dealing with the inevitable drama that would ensue over Draco, and if he was or was not telling the truth, or whether he was or was not a foul git.
It wasn’t hard. Ginny was excellent at keeping secrets hidden. She’d been doing it all her life. After some time had passed, she had managed to nurse him back to reasonable health. She’d always been talented for her age, but there were certain things she just couldn’t pull off.
“I’ll be fine,” he’d assured her, “Thanks.”
He was always unable to look her in the eye. It reminded her of Percy, when he would pass them in the Alley; she knew it was a matter of broken pride. Draco’s injuries were most definitely deeper than physical. She felt a stab of pity for him, and with the renewed perspective and forged bond, she learned to consider him her friend.
“I need to leave now, if I stay too long, your family’ll find out. Or… worse.”
She nodded, to convey that she knew what, or rather ‘who’ he meant by worse, but took hold of his hand in protest.
“Draco,” she said. “Maybe you shouldn’t go.”
“I have to,” he said stubbornly. “Thank you, Ginny. But, I can’t stay here.”
“So, you’ll have me just sit here? Bloody hell, Draco, I don’t even know where my closest brother and best friends are! I don’t have any idea if my family members are going to walk back through the front door at the end of the day? And now you want to run off on “ what, an agenda to re-establish your innocence? Or are you just going to play hide and seek with the Death Eaters?”
“What’s it to you?”
“I don’t want one more person to worry about while I sit on my arse and do nothing, that’s what! It’s not fair to me, and it’s not right, either. It’s not right for me to sit here and let the people I love suffer!”
Draco looked at her, his eyes were intense. When he spoke, it was quietly, but there was something powerful.
“Sunday night. After the sun sets, I’ll be in the trees on the east hill outside Ottery St. Catchpole. I’ll wait an hour, Ginny. And I won’t be let down if I don’t see you.”
Ginny stared back at him, tears welling in her eyes.
“Do you understand what will happen if you come?”
She nodded.
“Alright then.”
He studied her for a moment, before taking her in an embrace and kissing her cheek.
“Thank you, Ginny,” he said, with a polite nod, before he turned and left.
“See you soon,” she whispered under her breath.
Ginny Weasley sat in the kitchen, cursing the world. It was a lie, of course. It was not the birds or the flower or the dusk she wished to curse, it was the war, and the evil that surrounded her. And now there was someone who needed her, someone who had nobody else. Somebody she could live for, if just for the time being.
She took a deep breath and double-checked that she’d packed everything she’d meant to, and that she had everything she would need.
She looked at the parchment in front of her.
I’m safe,
Ginny.
It was enchanted with a Truth Charm. They would know it was not forged, and that it was not a comforting lie, but Ginny’s true parting words. It was all she could offer them. The knowledge that she had left on her own terms, and not someone else’s. Any more might put Draco in danger, as well as the Weasleys themselves.
Ginny glanced out the window and saw the last of the deep red sun begin it’s descent below the horizon.
And then she began her journey, leaving all she had behind.