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"Crucio!"
The girl was crying, and Ginny was sprawled across the cold stones next to her unable to move. The Carrows were laughing where they stood above the two girls, and Ginny burned more with the feeling of failure than with the Unforgivable. She had wanted to protect the poor second year Hufflepuff girl and get her back to the dorms before curfew. The Carrows had been lying in wait, knowing full well that the young children often still got lost within the shifting hallways of the castle.
"The Headmaster wants to speak with you, Professors," came a familiar and smooth voice from down the hallway. Ginny closed her eyes to keep the tears in. The poor girl was still crying, still screaming. Too much more and her mind would break; sometimes Ginny wished that the Carrows would simply give in and be done with it. Death Eater and traitor to the Order that he was, even Severus Snape wouldn't condone the egregious and outright murder of innocent students.
Alecto Carrow released the spell and went along with Amycus to Snape's office. "Throw out the trash, will you?" Alecto told Draco Malfoy with a vicious tone of voice. Draco nodded respectfully and watched them both go with a solemn expression.
He knelt beside the Hufflepuff girl and then subvocalized a spell that knocked the poor girl unconscious. It would also restore her state of mind, almost like having a bar of chocolate. "What rule did she break?" Draco asked Ginny, reaching for her.
Ginny flinched. "Curfew," she rasped after a moment. She pushed herself up to sitting and tucked her red hair behind her ears. There were deep circles under her eyes, which seemed more like bruises thanks to her pale skin. Next to Draco, however, she seemed downright tan. There had always been a sense of conflict within him over the past few years, though this was now heightened by the war. He carried the Dark Mark on his arm, but behind the scenes he actually tried to help Ginny stay out of trouble.
She was just so very good at getting back into it.
"You can't keep doing this," he told her in a low tone. "It'll catch up with you sooner or later."
"Someone has to fight back."
"They'll kill you. You're already letting them take you apart bit by bit," he murmured, leaning forward. His touch was light and tender on her cheeks, but the Cruciatus Curse left her skin electrified and overly sensitive. His soft skin felt as rough as sandpaper, but Ginny endured it. She had dealt with far worse, and he was trying to comfort her as best as he knew how. She thought of the scars on his chest, the dreadful silences in the few conversations they tried to have about their roles in the war and the places their families stood.
Ginny leaned forward and pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss. It startled him; she had always been the one to pull away when things might lean toward more than mutual respect and possibly affection. "I know what I'm doing, Draco. The younger ones have to be kept safe. I'm not allowed to fight outside of these walls, but I'll be damned if I step aside when I can fight inside of them."
Draco was still kneeling on the stones beside her, and he leaned back, hands on his knees. His eyes dropped down to the stones beneath them, and for a moment he was shamed. He couldn't stand up for his convictions the same way. He tried to walk the line between the two sides as best as he could, trying to avoid promising anything more. This summer had been quite the eye opener, and so many things haunted him now. He couldn't even begin to tell her about them, even if he could find the words for the shock and pain and disgust that welled up inside of him. But he was a Malfoy, and he had to survive. He had given his word to his parents that he would stay alive and would make sure that no suspicions would be cast upon the Malfoy name.
"I can't do the same for you," he whispered, voice breaking. "You know that."
She might have been the one under the Carrows' wands, but he was suffering right along with her.
Ginny grasped his hands in hers. "Draco. Neither of us promised each other anything."
He looked up, solemn expression too old on his young face. "I would if I could," he said. There was a core of steel within his gaze, a fierce determination that she wouldn't have otherwise guessed at. "You have to know that. If I could promise you my name, I would. If I could offer protection, I would do it in an instant."
All they had were lost touches, heated gazes and now this one press of lips that wasn't even a kiss that Ginny wanted to share with him. She wanted more, more, whatever she could take and give to him. She wanted the world to be wide open, to be able to breathe into his lungs and take his own in return. She would offer her soul if it would make him safe from the demons she couldn't even imagine, the monsters behind the Death Eater masks that he wouldn't tell her about. Their lives together were half shrouded, clouded, cobbled together in whispers and innuendo and unspoken wishes.
She leaned forward again and kissed him the way she wanted to, a clash of lips and teeth and tongue, the press of her entire heart against his mouth, the intention to give everything of herself if only she could. His response was everything in return, the open press of his lips to hers, his tongue in her mouth and his hands tangled in her red, red hair. It was the answer to her unspoken offer, pouring his breath into her as if he could save her from the darkness threatening to swallow Hogwarts whole.
Afterward, she took the Hufflepuff girl to her dorm. They didn't speak or look back at each other.
***
Ginny lay as still as she could in the hospital wing, pretending to be asleep. There were muted sobs all around her, and she tried her best to tune it out. The only thing that could help them was either Madam Pomfrey's tonics or to have the Death Eaters on staff stop delivering excessive corporal punishment for minor infractions. The Order members or neutral teachers couldn't do much more than harbor students and protect them as they could, since any outright dissidence would only make their own lives forfeit. Ginny understood it better than the younger ones did, though she didn't like it in the least.
She heard the susurrus of cloth rustling and turned her head slightly to track its source. It was Draco in dark robes checking in on some of the students from his house. Ginny wasn't all that far away from them, so once they settled in to sleep after his check, he stopped by her bed. "I can't help you," he said in a low tone.
"I know," she answered. Their voices didn't carry far, even in the stillness of the hospital wing.
Draco's hand came down onto her shoulder, fingers tightening. "I wish..."
"No point in wishing," Ginny replied softly. "Someday maybe we can, but not now. Now we have to work with what we've got."
"They're tightening rules," he told her, fingers sliding beneath the edge of her hospital gown. "I can't... I have to fall into line, Ginny. I can't walk between anymore." His voice broke, and he struggled to breathe. There was no one else he could show this side of himself to, no one else he trusted with his innermost feelings. He didn't even trust his parents with them, and Ginny knew it wasn't a matter considered lightly.
"Do what you have to do to survive," Ginny whispered, closing her hand over his. "Survive this war, then we can figure this all out."
"We shouldn't have to make this decision," he murmured softly, leaning over to kiss her forehead. "I'm sorry I can't do more."
"I know," she said softly, turning her face to kiss his lips. "I'm sorry, too."
"I won't be able to give you any help, but if there's anything I can do..."
"Just stay safe. That's all I ask."
Draco nodded and crept out of the hospital wing without a word. They never exchanged tender words when they parted, even if they might have wanted to. Words were weapons as sure as wands were, as sure as magic and promises could be.
Ginny closed her eyes and tried to ignore the feeling of her heart breaking to pieces.
***
There was an owl bearing an unsigned message that tapped on the window at Gryffindor Tower before Easter hols, warning of further raids and the increasing probability that children of Order members would be taken as symbols against the resistance.
Ginny didn't return to classes after Easter. Neither did several other members of Dumbledore's Army.
Someone had to keep the Room of Requirement open, after all.
***
In the aftermath of the Final Battle at Hogwarts, there was death and destruction all around. Neither side had gone unscathed, though history was always written by the victors.
Draco had a drawn, pale face, and he looked at Ginny with large, silent eyes. He couldn't go to her, not with Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy cradling him close and thankful he wasn't dead. She could see his pain in his eyes, could see how much he wanted to cross the Great Hall and see for himself that she wasn't harmed, that her spirit was still her own.
He wasn't willing to put himself out there. He couldn't countermand his parents' plans for him, didn't want to put himself in the potential line of fire. Ginny would have to be the one to do that, but now would not be the time. Draco would fall to pieces if she pushed him now, and there would be nothing left of the wordless emotions they had harbored for the past year.
Ginny turned to her family and pretended that she felt nothing. She had weathered most of a full school year of torture and violence and terror, so she knew how to pretend that she wasn't falling apart on the inside, that she wasn't in continual pain. This she knew how to do. When everything was going to hell and back, she knew how to look strong, how to keep moving as if she didn't feel dead inside.
Physical pain had nothing on this, and she would keep breathing. She would survive.
She could do nothing less.
The girl was crying, and Ginny was sprawled across the cold stones next to her unable to move. The Carrows were laughing where they stood above the two girls, and Ginny burned more with the feeling of failure than with the Unforgivable. She had wanted to protect the poor second year Hufflepuff girl and get her back to the dorms before curfew. The Carrows had been lying in wait, knowing full well that the young children often still got lost within the shifting hallways of the castle.
"The Headmaster wants to speak with you, Professors," came a familiar and smooth voice from down the hallway. Ginny closed her eyes to keep the tears in. The poor girl was still crying, still screaming. Too much more and her mind would break; sometimes Ginny wished that the Carrows would simply give in and be done with it. Death Eater and traitor to the Order that he was, even Severus Snape wouldn't condone the egregious and outright murder of innocent students.
Alecto Carrow released the spell and went along with Amycus to Snape's office. "Throw out the trash, will you?" Alecto told Draco Malfoy with a vicious tone of voice. Draco nodded respectfully and watched them both go with a solemn expression.
He knelt beside the Hufflepuff girl and then subvocalized a spell that knocked the poor girl unconscious. It would also restore her state of mind, almost like having a bar of chocolate. "What rule did she break?" Draco asked Ginny, reaching for her.
Ginny flinched. "Curfew," she rasped after a moment. She pushed herself up to sitting and tucked her red hair behind her ears. There were deep circles under her eyes, which seemed more like bruises thanks to her pale skin. Next to Draco, however, she seemed downright tan. There had always been a sense of conflict within him over the past few years, though this was now heightened by the war. He carried the Dark Mark on his arm, but behind the scenes he actually tried to help Ginny stay out of trouble.
She was just so very good at getting back into it.
"You can't keep doing this," he told her in a low tone. "It'll catch up with you sooner or later."
"Someone has to fight back."
"They'll kill you. You're already letting them take you apart bit by bit," he murmured, leaning forward. His touch was light and tender on her cheeks, but the Cruciatus Curse left her skin electrified and overly sensitive. His soft skin felt as rough as sandpaper, but Ginny endured it. She had dealt with far worse, and he was trying to comfort her as best as he knew how. She thought of the scars on his chest, the dreadful silences in the few conversations they tried to have about their roles in the war and the places their families stood.
Ginny leaned forward and pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss. It startled him; she had always been the one to pull away when things might lean toward more than mutual respect and possibly affection. "I know what I'm doing, Draco. The younger ones have to be kept safe. I'm not allowed to fight outside of these walls, but I'll be damned if I step aside when I can fight inside of them."
Draco was still kneeling on the stones beside her, and he leaned back, hands on his knees. His eyes dropped down to the stones beneath them, and for a moment he was shamed. He couldn't stand up for his convictions the same way. He tried to walk the line between the two sides as best as he could, trying to avoid promising anything more. This summer had been quite the eye opener, and so many things haunted him now. He couldn't even begin to tell her about them, even if he could find the words for the shock and pain and disgust that welled up inside of him. But he was a Malfoy, and he had to survive. He had given his word to his parents that he would stay alive and would make sure that no suspicions would be cast upon the Malfoy name.
"I can't do the same for you," he whispered, voice breaking. "You know that."
She might have been the one under the Carrows' wands, but he was suffering right along with her.
Ginny grasped his hands in hers. "Draco. Neither of us promised each other anything."
He looked up, solemn expression too old on his young face. "I would if I could," he said. There was a core of steel within his gaze, a fierce determination that she wouldn't have otherwise guessed at. "You have to know that. If I could promise you my name, I would. If I could offer protection, I would do it in an instant."
All they had were lost touches, heated gazes and now this one press of lips that wasn't even a kiss that Ginny wanted to share with him. She wanted more, more, whatever she could take and give to him. She wanted the world to be wide open, to be able to breathe into his lungs and take his own in return. She would offer her soul if it would make him safe from the demons she couldn't even imagine, the monsters behind the Death Eater masks that he wouldn't tell her about. Their lives together were half shrouded, clouded, cobbled together in whispers and innuendo and unspoken wishes.
She leaned forward again and kissed him the way she wanted to, a clash of lips and teeth and tongue, the press of her entire heart against his mouth, the intention to give everything of herself if only she could. His response was everything in return, the open press of his lips to hers, his tongue in her mouth and his hands tangled in her red, red hair. It was the answer to her unspoken offer, pouring his breath into her as if he could save her from the darkness threatening to swallow Hogwarts whole.
Afterward, she took the Hufflepuff girl to her dorm. They didn't speak or look back at each other.
Ginny lay as still as she could in the hospital wing, pretending to be asleep. There were muted sobs all around her, and she tried her best to tune it out. The only thing that could help them was either Madam Pomfrey's tonics or to have the Death Eaters on staff stop delivering excessive corporal punishment for minor infractions. The Order members or neutral teachers couldn't do much more than harbor students and protect them as they could, since any outright dissidence would only make their own lives forfeit. Ginny understood it better than the younger ones did, though she didn't like it in the least.
She heard the susurrus of cloth rustling and turned her head slightly to track its source. It was Draco in dark robes checking in on some of the students from his house. Ginny wasn't all that far away from them, so once they settled in to sleep after his check, he stopped by her bed. "I can't help you," he said in a low tone.
"I know," she answered. Their voices didn't carry far, even in the stillness of the hospital wing.
Draco's hand came down onto her shoulder, fingers tightening. "I wish..."
"No point in wishing," Ginny replied softly. "Someday maybe we can, but not now. Now we have to work with what we've got."
"They're tightening rules," he told her, fingers sliding beneath the edge of her hospital gown. "I can't... I have to fall into line, Ginny. I can't walk between anymore." His voice broke, and he struggled to breathe. There was no one else he could show this side of himself to, no one else he trusted with his innermost feelings. He didn't even trust his parents with them, and Ginny knew it wasn't a matter considered lightly.
"Do what you have to do to survive," Ginny whispered, closing her hand over his. "Survive this war, then we can figure this all out."
"We shouldn't have to make this decision," he murmured softly, leaning over to kiss her forehead. "I'm sorry I can't do more."
"I know," she said softly, turning her face to kiss his lips. "I'm sorry, too."
"I won't be able to give you any help, but if there's anything I can do..."
"Just stay safe. That's all I ask."
Draco nodded and crept out of the hospital wing without a word. They never exchanged tender words when they parted, even if they might have wanted to. Words were weapons as sure as wands were, as sure as magic and promises could be.
Ginny closed her eyes and tried to ignore the feeling of her heart breaking to pieces.
There was an owl bearing an unsigned message that tapped on the window at Gryffindor Tower before Easter hols, warning of further raids and the increasing probability that children of Order members would be taken as symbols against the resistance.
Ginny didn't return to classes after Easter. Neither did several other members of Dumbledore's Army.
Someone had to keep the Room of Requirement open, after all.
In the aftermath of the Final Battle at Hogwarts, there was death and destruction all around. Neither side had gone unscathed, though history was always written by the victors.
Draco had a drawn, pale face, and he looked at Ginny with large, silent eyes. He couldn't go to her, not with Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy cradling him close and thankful he wasn't dead. She could see his pain in his eyes, could see how much he wanted to cross the Great Hall and see for himself that she wasn't harmed, that her spirit was still her own.
He wasn't willing to put himself out there. He couldn't countermand his parents' plans for him, didn't want to put himself in the potential line of fire. Ginny would have to be the one to do that, but now would not be the time. Draco would fall to pieces if she pushed him now, and there would be nothing left of the wordless emotions they had harbored for the past year.
Ginny turned to her family and pretended that she felt nothing. She had weathered most of a full school year of torture and violence and terror, so she knew how to pretend that she wasn't falling apart on the inside, that she wasn't in continual pain. This she knew how to do. When everything was going to hell and back, she knew how to look strong, how to keep moving as if she didn't feel dead inside.
Physical pain had nothing on this, and she would keep breathing. She would survive.
She could do nothing less.
The End.
Eustacia Vye is the author of 37 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 1 members. Members who liked Breathe also liked 993 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 1 members. Members who liked Breathe also liked 993 other stories.
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