His eyes settled on his childhood home. He hadn’t lived there in a few years, ever since his father was carried off to Azkaban; his mother had been destroyed only months later by her own grief and anguish at her husband’s passing. Draco imagined his mother’s pale face and hollow eyes as he pulled the metal lock and pushed the gates open. He stepped cautiously up the pathway to the front door and stared around at the manor.
Draco had always remembered his home to be a large and unbreakable structure. Now, as he looked around, he saw that this was not true – Malfoy Manor had been withering away for ages, and as no one had lived there for at least five years, the building had taken a turn for the worse. As he touched the door, the brown metal coating began to scrape off, revealing light silver beneath. He idly wondered why his parents, well aware of their lives without one another, did not sell the manor.
He placed his hand around the doorknob and pushed gently. The door opened surprisingly easily. He thought, as he stepped inside, that maybe he could fix whatever damages he found, and reclaim his home back.
His eyes fell on the staircase as he shut the door behind him, and a musty odor filled his nose, making him cough. Grabbing the banister, he was rewarded with dust and grime on his pale hand. He ascended the stairs with a feeling of foreboding, having no idea what he would find at the top
A long, dark, and chilled corridor awaited him as he reached the second floor. He glanced around quickly before heading to the right, where he knew his parent’s room lay. When he reached the door to their room, he felt his hand tremble as he brushed it through his hair. Draco nudged open the entrance and slipped inside.
Sunlight filtered through the large windows on the other side of the room. He moved to the dresser against the wall, his eyes straying to each dusty picture in turn. He used the sleeve of his jacket to wipe away the residue from the glass and his gray eyes widened briefly.
The photo was of his mother in a white gown. Her long hair was sleek and shiny, and a beautiful smile graced her features. Next to her was a man with white-blond hair, and a very uncharacteristic grin, his arms around her waist.
Draco felt a stinging behind his eyes as he placed the frame back down on the dresser and turned around.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, a little startled by her presence in the doorway.
“I knew you’d come,” Ginny said as she stepped closer.
“Why?” he said as he watched her push a strand of curling, flame-colored hair behind one ear. For some reason, he wanted to pull her to him, feeling as though she was the only safe thing in his world now.
Ginny frowned and held up something – it was the Daily Prophet. There was a picture of Lucius Malfoy printed on the front page, along with his date of birth as well as his death. Apparently, some people still held him in high regard despite his bidding to the darkest wizard their world had ever known.
Draco stared at the photo before snatching the paper from her angrily and ripping it open to the third page, where a tribute to his mother and father was placed.
“I wonder if Potter feels like a king,” he snarled, throwing the Prophet down. “He’s the reason my father was imprisoned and the cause of my mother’s grief.”
Ginny stared at him and, before she knew what was happening, she had her wand out, pointed at him.
“Harry is a good man,” she said through clenched teeth. “He’s a better man than your-”
To her surprise, Draco cocked his head, and a slow smile stretched across his lips. “My father was a Death Eater, Ginny.”
Ginny’s eyes widened and she clamped a hand over her mouth. “Really, Draco? Oh, I had no idea!”
He stared at her, watching her beautiful brown eyes narrow, and shook his head. “This is ridiculous. And you never answered my question. What are you doing here?”
Ginny sat down in the chair beside the desk in the corner, and crossed her legs, giving him a seriouslook. “I stopped by my parents today, and they gave me the paper.”
Draco stopped rummaging around and raised an eyebrow. “You did? How did it go?”
A lonely look flashed across her eyes as she stood up and walked over to him, and in an instant, which he knew he would never forget, wrapped her arms around his waist, and rested her head on his chest.
“You don’t have to do this alone,” she whispered.
He shook his head, his arms still at his sides. “Do what?” he asked nervously.
Clearly, he hadn’t expected this embrace at all.
Ginny’s eyes were filled with unshed tears as she looked up at him. “I’ll help you forget these memories,” she said gently, reaching down to squeeze his hand. When he did not respond, she dared another glance, and found a fierce look on his face.
He stepped away from her and let her hand fall limply to her side.
“Forget the memories of my parents?” he asked, seizing a frame from the dresser again and staring thoughtfully at it. “How can you ask me to do that? They’re still my family.”
“We can-” she began.
“Can what? Take care of me?”
The lack of emotion in his voice scared her. “Yes,” she replied defiantly, stepping closer. “I’ll know my family would watch over you.”
Cold, harsh laughter erupted from Draco abruptly and he glanced sideways at the redhead standing a few feet away from him. He tapped the frame he was holding with his finger and held it out to her.
“Do you see this?” he asked.
Ginny nodded.
“I know you’re a smart girl, so tell me – who are the people in the picture?”
He watched her lip twitch and a satisfied smirk touched the corners of his mouth.
“Your father and mother,” she said quietly.
Draco smiled darkly at her and took out his wand, placing the tip of the wood against the metal edge of the frame; he muttered a few words and the frame started to catch fire.
“Do you really want me to forget them? I’ll burn everything in here, if you really, really do. After all -” He reached out for her, gripping her wrist. “- you seem to know what’s best for me, what with my Death Eater father and my puppet of a mother being dead now.”
He was trembling as he let her go, his face pale, and his eyes terrified as he dropped the photo. It only left a tiny black scorch on the carpet of the room before extinguishing itself. Draco’s knees buckled and he fell, bowing his head against the floor, and began to whimper softly.
Ginny knelt beside him and ran a hand through his hair. “See?” she said gently. “You can’t do this on your own.”
“Yes, I can,” he muttered harshly. “I have to remember them!”
“It didn’t do you any good when they were alive,” Ginny reasoned. “At least now you can be freed of the nightmares that you constantly went through if you disobeyed your father or the Dark Lord.”
To her amazement, he lifted his head, and without another word his mouth descended onto hers. Her hands rested on his knees as he deepened the kiss.
His fingers touched her neck and she twitched as he slid them into her hair, tugging lightly on some strands. He inhaled the scent of lavender that flooded around him and wrapped his arms firmly around her back, pulling her into him.
Ginny let her fingers wander under his shirt to feel his torso and found his skin to be very warm, her hands gripping his shoulders as he slid her onto his lap, never breaking away from her lips. Twisting her fingers in his blond hair made him groan, she noticed as she continued to touch him. He growled suddenly when she moved, and before she knew what was going on, she was laying on her back with Draco hovering over her.
His eyes flashed briefly with remorse as he caressed her cheek with his thumb. The remainder of his salty tears fell against her face, close to her lips.
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