ILL MET BY MOONLIGHT

Chapter Four- Swift as Shadow, Black as Night

Above Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a storm was brewing. Ominous black rain clouds blotted out the moon, plunging the grounds into murky darkness. An icy gust of wind brought with it a midwinter chill and a smell of rain. Inside the castle, some students looked uneasily out the frost covered windows at wind-tossed trees and the stormy lake, then moved closer to the fire or curled up warmly in their beds.

Others did not.

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Draco Malfoy was having a very strange evening. After he had collected himself from the unnerving encounter in the forest, he had gone in to have dinner. That part had been all right, or at least normal. No one in their right mind would define having to watch Crabbe and Goyle mindlessly stuff their faces as “all right”. Even “normal” might be a bit of a stretch at times. Trying to distract himself from the piggish tendencies of his fellow Slytherins, Draco had fallen into a rather morbid series of thoughts, mostly centering around what it might feel like to get the Dark Mark, though he spared a few moments to ponder what they would make him do to “prove his worthiness” to the Dark Lord. Killing his own mother was, in any case, definitely out of the question, he thought bitterly. Still lost in dark musings, he’d begun the long walk back to the common room.

Only to be attacked by Weasley. Again.

Draco had been trying his hardest to not think about the things she had said to him, both on the Quidditch field and in the forest. The way she was acting made no sense whatsoever, and that disturbed him greatly. He was used to being able to identify people’s motives and thus use their actions for his own good. Unfortunately, the Weasley girl was defying all the usual rules, and he didn’t know what to make of it.

So there he stood, bemused, as she proceeded to accuse him of mental manipulation and general evilness. Then he knew he was back on solid ground. For of course, despite all her fine words of sympathy and trust, Weasley was just as ready to blame him as usual. Bloody liar. Bloody bitch. Draco, without knowing why, felt strangely betrayed.

Then she told him what had happened in Gryffindor Tower, and his world proceeded to flip around again. She had stood up for him? She had stood up... for him? Of her own accord, no less, for in spite of what she might think of him, he wasn’t desperate enough to put illegal curses on Gryffindors. Not yet, anyway.

Then, instead of cursing her into oblivion the way she deserved, he had started teasing her! It was ridiculous! It was absolutely insane! The fact that he could actually make her laugh only made it worse. That he had felt a small stab of pleasure at her smile made it a nightmare. What was this idiotic girl doing to him?

When she stepped toward him, challenge and fear in her eyes, he hadn’t known what to do, which was a shock to begin with. Usually he was the one in control in situations like this. Now, with a single step and a simple look, she’d rendered him completely helpless. It confused him. It made him feel.... weak. Above all, it made him angry. And his anger pushed him past his confusion and his weakness and the way his body was aching for her. Girls didn’t play with Draco Malfoy’s feelings; he played with theirs. With a brush of his fingers over her lips and a whisper in her ear, he was in power again.

Or so he told himself.

He told himself that he was just doing it so he could use it against her later. He tried to convince himself that this was all part of his continuing battle against the trio, just something to be thrown in their faces when they least expected it.

God, what a lie.

At his whisper, her body went tense, and he couldn’t help himself. Quicker than a breath, before she could move away or even blink, he pushed swiftly her against the wall and pressed his mouth to hers, hard enough to bruise. He hadn’t meant to be so rough, but then again, he hadn’t meant to kiss her at all. Then, before she could recover or react, he pulled away. Or tried to, rather, because Weasley pulled him back against her.

“If that’s evil,” Ginny whispered, gasping for breath, “Then I never want to be good again.”

And crushed against him in a kiss so fierce, Draco Malfoy was left in awe.

Then, footsteps in the corridor outside, voices.... the doorknob turning.

They broke apart so fast that Ginny almost fell to the floor. She caught herself just in time and whipped out her wand in unison with Draco, almost as if they’d planned it.

Their eyes met in complete astonishment for the second time that day. Then Ginny grinned wolfishly. Draco smirked back.

“I’M GOING TO KILL YOU, MALFOY, YOU DISGUSTING FERRET!” she shrieked, as Seamus Finnigan and Lavender Brown walked in.

“Do I look like I’m scared, filthy little weasel?” he spat at her, then took a hasty step backwards as she attempted to punch him. Seamus and Lavender leapt forward and pulled her away from him.

“No, Ginny!” yelled Seamus over her angry shouts. “He’s not worth it!”

“Calm down, Ginny!” squealed Lavender, looking quite frightened by the younger girl’s ferocity. “Please! You’re going to get yourself in trouble!”

Oh, thought Ginny, smilingly inwardly. You have no idea how much trouble I’m in.

Draco stepped scornfully around the three Gryffindors towards the open door.

“I’ll see you later, Ginny,” he said mockingly as he passed her. Lavender and Seamus were so intent on glaring at him that they totally failed to catch the look that Ginny gave him, her mouth widening in a smirk to rival his own. Her cheeks were flushed, though not with anger, despite what her fellow Gryffindors might think.

“See you, Draco,” she mouthed silently as they yanked her bodily out of the room past him.

Draco stared after her. “Very strange” didn’t even begin to describe it, he decided. Then he smiled slightly, recalling Ginny’s reaction to their impending discovery by her classmates. She’d done the same thing as him: manipulated the situation and lied. Like any good Slytherin. Oh yes, there was no doubt that him and Miss Weasley were going to have a very good time together. No doubt at all.

============

“Oh, Ginny!” moaned Lavender as her and Seamus propelled her swiftly along the corridors toward Gryffindor Tower. “Why did you have to go and get in a fight with Malfoy? You know he’s going to tell Snape, and you’ll lose us so many points!”
“Ron is going to kill you,” added Seamus, “He’s been so bloody protective of you lately, I’m surprised he let you out of his sight at all! Then you go and almost get in a duel with that stupid wanker! Maybe Ron’s got a point!”

“It’s not like I’m in any danger from Dra.. Malfoy,” Ginny retorted irritably, trying in vain to free herself from their grasp. “After all,” she added, with sudden sweetness. “Ron doesn’t really have to get angry , does he? If you two don’t tell him....”

“Nice try, Ginny.” said Seamus wryly, “But I’ve been getting enough lectures from Ron and Hermione as it is. I don’t fancy what it’d be like if I lied to them about this.” Lavender nodded in vehement agreement.

“What were you two doing down there, anyway?” asked Ginny, trying another tack. Lavender giggled.

“Not what you and Malfoy were doing, let’s put it that way, shall we?” she said, and giggled again. Seamus smirked.

Weren’t you just, Ginny thought ironically as the portrait of the Fat Lady loomed ahead.

“Whirling billywigs,” Seamus muttered. Ginny tensed her shoulders and stepped through the hole calmly, Lavender and Seamus still gripping her arms. She drew a breath, preparing to defend herself to her brother....

Who wasn’t there. A quick look around the common room revealed that it was deserted, save for two shrimpy second years studying feverishly at one of the small round tables.

“You see?” snapped Ginny, yanking her arms away from the two Gryffindors. “He didn’t even notice I was gone. So run along, you two, and next time let me fight my own battles, all right?” Lavender glared at her, affronted, then slammed out of the common room in a huff.

“What if he finds out?” said Seamus uneasily, glancing after the irate girl.

Ginny gave him a cold look.

“Never fear, Seamus!” she said mockingly. “I’ll protect you from my big, bad brother if he comes after you.” He looked stunned by her scorn, then his eyes filled with indignation.

“What the hell’s your problem, Ginny?” he demanded angrily. “We stop you from getting decapitated by Malfoy or expelled for fighting, and you bloody bite our heads off!” He stalked off after Lavender, no doubt eager to finish their delayed snogging session. Ginny repressed the urge to sneer after them. Good lord, she thought. I’m acting like a Slytherin. Like.... Draco. She knew the thought should have made her feel guilty. It didn’t.

She slept better that night than she had for months, except for dreams in which Tom Riddle played no part at all.

===============

The next day was Halloween. Despite the storm the night before, morning came bright and clear, much to the relief of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Ron had a two hour practice session planned for them after lunch, focusing on some new moves and especially on more precise interaction between the three Chasers: Ginny, Dennis Creevey (whose exuberant energy was finally finding an outlet on the Quidditch field), and a tomboyish, cheerful third year by the name of Natalie McDonald.

Ginny had woken up with a pounding headache and a churning stomach. Some small, sensible part of her mind what asking what the hell she had gotten herself into now. However, most of her was recalling the sudden, stabbing joy when Draco kissed her, the sense of utter rightness as she pulled him to her and kissed him back. In comparison to that, her headache faded to a trivial detail. Well, almost. Then she remembered the unfinished Potions essay.... Ginny sighed and rolled out of her bed, feeling a bit lightheaded. She unsteadily pulled on her jeans from yesterday and a rather ratty t-shirt, and headed down to breakfast, resigning herself to a day of homework and being yelled at by Ron for not working seamlessly enough with Dennis and Natalie.

A quick glance at the Slytherin table as she walked towards her own revealed that Draco had either all ready had his breakfast or was still asleep. Natalie waved from the Gryffindor table. Ginny slumped down glumly beside her fellow Chaser, ignored the vicious glances Lavender and Seamus were shooting her and halfheartedly snagged a piece of toast off the nearest platter.

“Hey, Gin!” said Natalie with disgusting cheerfulness. “Ready for our weekly torture session? Been working hard on the Hawkshead?”

“Not really,” Ginny muttered indistinctly through a mouthful of toast.

“Oh, good, neither have I!” declared the sandy haired Gryffindor brightly. “Still, no worries, eh, not with the feast tonight! I heard that this is gonna be the best one in years, ever since that one with the dancing skeletons and all. Actually, my friend Orla, she’s in Ravenclaw, she said that....” Ginny put her hands to her aching head and tuned Tally’s prattle out. She had no memory of a Halloween feast with dancing skeletons, but she did have a shrewd guess why. This day was falling all to pieces. And of course, she still had that Potions essay to finish, and she had to review Switching Spells for Transfiguration, now that she thought about it. And that research for Ancient Runes was due tomorrow, not to mention the History of Magic exam on Tuesday and the two hours of Quidditch practice.... With a despairing groan, Ginny buried her head in her arms.

“What’s the matter, mate?” asked Natalie, having finally noticed her audience was less than completely captivated by the gossip about the feast. “You feeling all right?” she asked, her normally carefree face was marred by a concerned frown. She blinked as Ginny raised her disheveled head and peered around blearily. “Blimey, you look bloody awful! You should go to the hospital wing, have Pomfrey give you a potion or something to perk you up!” “Not a bad idea, Tally,” she said, then stumbled to her feet. “Save me a sausage or two, eh?”

“Sure thing!” Natalie called anxiously after her. “Just don’t leave me all alone in practice with Dennis and your... uh... um.....” she trailed off as Ron walked into the Great Hall, talking with Harry.

“Ready for practice this afternoon, Gin?” he called gleefully as she passed him. She waved vaguely in his direction and tried to concentrate on remembering where exactly the hospital wing was.

When she finally arrived at the bright, sunny room, it was totally deserted.

“Um, hello?” she called out hesitantly.

“What do you need, dear?” said Madam Pomfrey, bustling kindly up to her from her office.

Ginny focused in on her face.

“Um, I think I might have a cold or the flu or something,” she muttered. “I’m really dizzy.”

“Yes, you’ve got a bit of a fever,” the nurse said absently, placing a hand on Ginny’s forehead. “Come lie down for a moment and we’ll see what we can do.” Ginny stumbled gratefully to a bed and curled up, closing her eyes.

She hurried back a minute later, holding small bottle of sky blue pills and a glass of some murky potion.

“All right, Miss Weasley, just chew one of these and wash it down with this and you’re as good as new!” Ginny looked curiously at the pills.

“Erm, is it just me or is that... Fever Fudge?” she asked, slightly disconcerted. Madam Pomfrey chuckled.

“Yes, dear! Turns out your brothers’ candies are good for more than trying to get out of class.”

“Just be sure and never tell them,” Ginny mumbled, sitting up and gulping the pill and potion, gagging a bit as it went down. “They’d be horrified that the Snackboxes can put people back in class instead of taking them out.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it! Now, run along back to your dormitory and get some more sleep, all right?” Ginny, slid off the bed, still feeling unsteady. “That Fever Fudge and the Purifying Potion won’t fight that nasty bug off on their own.”

“Yes, Madam Pomfrey,” she muttered, swallowing nervously and hoping the disgusting potion would stay in her stomach where it belonged. This day had gone from bad to rotten with alarming speed, and Ginny suspected that it was going to get worse before it got better.

================

If Draco had to name the top five worst ways to start a day, finding out that his father had escaped prison, only to be killed by Aurors, would without a doubt have to be number one. He stared down at the Daily Prophet morning edition rather numbly.

An attempted breakout from Azkaban Prison last night ended in the demise of a Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy, by the hands of Ministry Aurors. Since the desertion of the dementors, former guards of Azkaban, security had been very tight at the prison and the wardens can offer no explanation for this violation. Several guards have been taken in for questioning.

And that was all there was to it. His last hope for deliverance, gone. He knew he should being feeling at least some sadness for his father’s death, but all he felt was dread and anger. Besides, what had his father ever done for him? Mocked him. Ignored him. Treated him like something substantially less than a Mudblood. Made it clear that nothing Draco was capable of doing would ever be good enough to make him worthy. Humiliated him in front of just about everyone, including the damn Trio. In short, his father had made his life a living hell.

And look, Father! he thought bitterly. You win again! Even in death you’ve got the last laugh at me, you vicious bastard. I’m sure you’d be so pleased.

His mother must have known, he realized. Somehow she had found out that his father’s escape would be unsuccessful. She might even have sabotaged it herself, unlikely though it might seem. With Death Eaters, anything was possible. She also must’ve realized that, as one of the few people aware of the planned escape, she would be under suspicion from Voldemort and the inner circle. Narcissa Malfoy knew too much, and so she chose the easiest way out.

He glanced again at the paper. Under the article were two pictures. One was of Azkaban, the only movement being the crash of the waves on the stone cliffs that surrounded the fortress. The smaller one was his father, staring out haughtily. Lucius Malfoy, accused Death Eater, stated the caption beneath it. Draco pulled out his wand.

“Incendio,” he whispered, and watched as small flames licked the paper and his father’s face burned, blackened, and was consumed. Then he reached out and crushed the sparks with his hand, unflinching, feeling a detached satisfaction at the searing pain. A grating voice jerked him out of his reverie.

“Oye, Draco!” called Blaise. “Better do something about that owl!” He blinked and focused back on the table, where a barn owl was beginning to partake in his bacon. A sealed parchment dangled from its leg. He reached out and pulled off the letter, then swatted the owl away from his food. It took off again, throwing him a reproachful look as it winged its way out of the Hall.

With some trepidation, he flipped the letter over and broke the unmarked seal. There was no salutation.

Come to the Forest tonight.

The emblem at the bottom, two serpents entwined and three silver stars, was that of his Aunt Bellatrix.

If there’s a worse way to start the day, Draco thought bitterly, Then I hope I never live to see it.

Then again, considering who he was going to be seeing tonight, perhaps he should be careful what he wished for.

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“Ha!” said Ginny, putting a triumphant flourish on the last word of her essay. “My headache is almost entirely gone, and I’ve got no more Potions homework for an entire 24 hours!”

“Gin,” said Natalie, looking over her shoulder at the four foot length of parchment, “That’s actually quite depressing. I mean, considering that you’re probably going to be sleeping for most of those 24 hours....”

“Shut up, Tally,” Ginny said, leaning back in her chair and closing her eyes. “You’re ruining my first 30 seconds of freedom.” Natalie giggled, then glanced at the clock and jumped up, horror evident on her face.

“Oh my god, if we aren’t out on the Quidditch pitch in the next minute and a half, Ron’s going to kill us!” Ginny leapt up in a state of equal alarm: her brother took his new duties as Quidditch Captain to an almost obsessive level, and if they had to start practice late, then heads would roll.

“All right, all right, calm down, Tally!” she said, valiantly trying not to panic. “You run up to the dormitories and grab our robes and I’ll run down to the broomshed and get our brooms, I’ll meet you in the entrance hall in three minutes, we change into our robes and Ron’ll never know!” Natalie gulped, nodded, and sprinted out of the library. Ginny set off for the broomshed at a dead run.

I knew it, she thought as she panted down the corridors and out onto the grounds. Nothing is going to go right today! Nothing! She darted hurriedly into the broomshed, grabbed her own broom and the Nimbus 2000 that Tally rode, and dashed back out again, slamming the door behind her.

The two girls arrived at the Quidditch pitch only four minutes late, which didn’t quite earn them a lecture, just an exceedingly irritated look from Ron as they panted up to join the rest of the team.

“Now that Ginny and Natalie have decided to join us,” he snapped. Ginny held back a derisive sneer. Natalie looked remorsefully at the ground and sighed as he began his speech on the importance of the new moves they would be working on today.

“Also,” Ron said briskly, “We’re going to focus a lot on inter-team awareness, especially between you three.” He indicated the Chasers. “It’s really important that you always know what the other players are doing, so that you can react and respond....” Ginny felt her mind start to drift. Not surprisingly, the first topic that came to mind was Draco. It had been so strange last night. She almost felt as though she’d been with someone else entirely, not Malfoy but Draco. The difference was astonishing. She flushed a little, remembering, but she wouldn’t regret it, couldn’t regret it, not when it had felt so....

She was brought back to the present with a jolt as the rest of her teammates took off, leaving her standing on the ground like a fool.

This, she thought, her face rivaling her hair for sheer brilliance of color as she mounted her broom, Is going to be the worst day. Ever.

================

Outside the castle, night had fallen. Inside, however, the feast was just beginning and the Hall was brilliantly lit. Floating jack-o'-lanterns illuminated the excited faces of the students, chattering and laughing with their friends. A festive mood filled the air, one of pleasant expectation and pure glee.

Ginny was miserable.

Maybe it was the last lingering effects of her illness. Maybe it was the memories, the dark memories which made her feel so out of place and vulnerable here in the middle of all the brightness and noise. Either way, she was desperate to escape. To be somewhere else, anywhere else. Somewhere dark and quiet and cool. Somewhere away from the painfully radiant light and the revolting chatter of the students.

Almost desperately, she searched with her eyes through the crowd to the Slytherin table. Where was Draco? She hadn’t seen him all day. A sudden stab of fear and doubt pierced her. Was he all right? Why are you worrying about him? asked the obnoxious, self-righteous inner voice that sounded a lot like Hermione at her worst. You should be celebrating the fact that he’s not here. Of course I’m worried, she retorted. Draco had shown her a side of himself that she would never have guessed he had. A side that felt and feared and wanted. What’s more, he had trusted her, trusted her as no one ever had before. A smile quirked across her mouth as she remember their act for Lavender and Seamus. Yes, they were in this together now, and nothing would change that.

=========

Draco was nervous. Standing uneasily beneath the outer trees of the forest, he waited in the shadows, peering into the darkness and twitching at small noises. Who knew what Bellatrix would do if she sneaked up on him unawares. Probably Crucio him, just to teach him a lesson.

A distinctly unnatural noise made him freeze, listening as hard as he could. There it was again: the rustle of a cloak from among the trees. He composed himself and turned to her smoothly, his face a mask of ice.

“Draco,” she said, tilting her head slightly, her long dark hair brushing across her face. She regarded him inscrutably through her half-lidded eyes.

“My dear auntie,” he replied wryly, giving her a mocking half-bow.


Quicker than a striking cobra, so fast his eyes didn’t even track the motion, she reached out and slapped him hard across the face. He raised a hand to his cheek in shock. It came away bloody. One of her rings, a silver serpent, had left a long cut. It burned like fire. He wondered if she had poisoned it.

“You may consider yourself high and mighty when you are with your little friends at school, boy, but among us you are the lowest of the low,” she informed him coldly. “Keep it in mind, if you have one.”

He didn’t respond.

“My, how quickly you learn,” she said, the derisive smile on her face at odds with her glacial black eyes. “The time had come to fulfill your destiny, boy, but first you must be proven worthy.” He still didn’t meet her eyes.

“Find us a spy,” she said shortly. “Someone who can spy on Potter. We would have you do it yourself, but, like the fool that you are, you made him your enemy.” Draco, recalling the punishment from his father when Lucius learned of his failure to befriend Potter, almost sneered at her in anger, but fought it down, keeping his face perfectly blank. She watched his struggle with cold detachment.

“If you manage that,” she continued after a long moment, “Then you will be accepted into the ranks. I will oversee your training myself.” Draco knew better than to ask what would happen if he failed. “I will contact you again soon.”

Draco bowed his head in acquiescence. She smiled with distant satisfaction, then turned to go. Suddenly, between one blink and the next, she was standing close by him, so near he could feel her breath on his mouth. She tilted his chin upward and looked into his eyes for a moment, searchingly, midnight black meeting steel gray. He was transfixed by her look, quite unable to move. Fear, as well as something darker, filled him.

“Make me proud,” she whispered. And then she was gone. He leaned against the nearest tree, closed his eyes, and slid to the ground.

============

After another fifteen minutes, Ginny couldn’t stand it any more. She glanced farther down the table to the Trio. Harry and Ron seemed to be deep in discussion about something Quidditch related, while Hermione was ranting at some innocent Gryffindor second year about the mistreatment of house elves. The boy looked confused and frightened in equal measure. None of the three were looking her way. Checking to see that Natalie was occupied in conversation with Jack Sloper, Ginny slid stealthily out of her place, out through the Hall and onto the grounds.

Without knowing exactly why, some instinct drew her farther into the night. She drifted past the Quidditch pitch, past the Whomping Willow and past Hagrid’s hut until she came to the edge of the forest. There he was, leaning against the same tree they had met under before, his hair almost silver in the moonlight. As she drew closer, his eyes opened and he looked straight at her, his expression unreadable.

Ginny stood above him, her face pale, and stuck out her hand. He took it and she helped him to his feet. The motion brought them close together, their faces only inches apart. She reached out and softly touched the cut on his cheek, where the blood had already dried.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. He didn’t answer, just brushed her hand with his own fingertips. Pleasure shot through him as she shivered slightly at the contact.

Then, just like in the classroom, he couldn’t restrain himself. He pulled her close, savoring her quiet gasp of surprise, the warmth of her body, the torment he could see growing in her eyes as he held back for one more moment, refusing to give her what he knew she hungered for so badly.

Then he touched his mouth to hers, forgetting that this was exactly what the Death Eaters wanted. After all, he wanted it, too.

Not such a bad day, after all.

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