Chapter 5 - Part Five

Chapter Twenty-one: Long Before Peace

As the sun was setting Goyle stepped into his home for the first time in days. “What are you doing here?” were the first words out his mouth as he saw Angelina lying on his couch. “What happened to Vincent?” he asked as he discarded his robe.

“I couldn’t stay where he took me,” she said honestly.

He lowered his head and scratched the back of it. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. That was my call and it seems it was the wrong one.” He moved closer.

“It’s okay.” She sat up to make room. “I’ll admit it was good to see Fred again, but he only made me realize that I can’t do without my husband.” Goyle sat down next to her. “We needed to get Draco and my baby out.”

Goyle shook his head as he rested it in his hands. “I’ve been racking my brain for days. I don’t know what to do and I don’t know how long Draco can last.”

Angelina sat closer as she leaned on him, resting her head on his shoulder and rubbing her hand up and down his back. She realized that Goyle needed more comfort than she did at the moment. Because she had only been in love with Draco for a short time, whereas Goyle and Crabbe, had a connection with him that she couldn’t even begin to imagine. “Why can''t we just storm the castle?” she suggested.

Goyle didn’t even look up. “Because then we would be giving the Dark Lord the advantage.”

“Yes, but we have to do something, Gregory,” she found herself whispering very softly. “You’re an in-house, you know that castle,” she told him. “And so do others who stand with Draco. Gather them. Together you can make a blueprint of the castle, figure out the schedules of the ones who stand against us, and know when the best time will be to strike.”

Goyle turned his head towards her, now just realizing how close they were. “What makes you think it’ll work?” he found himself whispering too.

“I don’t, but we have to do something, because if we wait and do nothing, I fear I’ll never see my husband again,” she confessed.

“I won’t let that happen,” he told her as he slipped his arm around her back. And the two sat on the couch as they simply comforted one another. Goyle found it strange how they had developed a bond in such a short period of time. Sure they had known each other for years, but neither had ever had the opportunity to get to know the other before now.

Goyle had always thought that Pansy Parkinson would have been a better choice for his friend, but he now realized why Draco had always defended Angelina so blindly to him. She was a strong and unwavering woman, willing do anything for her family, but all behind a, ‘I don’t give a damn’ sort of attitude just like Draco. Goyle smiled at the stubbornness of them both. They had both been so determined to have their separate lives, to be and love different people, only to end up being driven towards each other.

Draco had told Goyle everything that went on between him and Angelina. And as Goyle would listen, he couldn’t understand, how every harsh word, every dirty look, and how every raised hand, lead them closer together. But then one day it clicked and he finally realized that there was only one explanation; the two of them were crazy, plain and simple.

Yet though Goyle knew about their problems he couldn’t help but envy the two, because even though the couple had their ups and downs, and downs, and a few more downs, somehow they knew that eventually there would be another up and somehow that seemed to be more than enough.
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“You want us to what! Are you out of your mind?” yelled Lough as he heard Goyle’s plan.

“It’ll work,” Goyle simply said.

“Oh yeah, delivering ourselves on the Dark Lord’s front porch is really brilliant,” Lough said sarcastically.

“Look you’re either in or you’re out," Goyle said as Crabbe pointed his wand towards Lough. “Which means you’re with us or you’re dead. We will not risk you warning the Dark Lord.”

“Get that piece of shoot out my face.” Lough smacked down Crabbe’s wand. “I know what side I’m on, so don’t threaten me.”

“Good. Now like I was saying,” he directed towards the fifth secret meeting he was having. Gathering everyone at the same time would have been too suspicious, if not impossible. So he gathered the key people, and they would discreetly inform the others on their side. “We storm at dawn. Us from the inside and of course the others from the outside.”

“The battle will be far from easy,” spoke Crabbe, some people were surprised by the sound of his voice, many didn’t even know he knew how to speak. “But you must remember what we are fighting for. We are fighting for our loved ones. We are fighting for our brothers and for our sisters. We are fighting for our wives and for our children to come. So that they will not have to endure a world full of fear and hate as we have.” He looked around the room. “Remember this day and those that are sure to follow, because we will defeat the Dark Lord and-”

“What about T.A.S.?” Lawson interrupted Crabbe. “How do we defeat something whose destruction has been lost with the ages?” The others hearing this question started murmuring amongst themselves and then turned to Goyle.

“We’re working on it,” Crabbe was the one to speak up looking nastily at Lawson for the interruption. “It should not be a concern the day of,” he told him. Many looked unconvinced, but no one said anything as the meeting came to an end.

Goyle then turned to Crabbe. “You didn’t need to lie.”

“Yes, I did, because if we told them we had no way of defeating The Attachment of Solum, many would not have fought.”

“How will we destroy the enchantment?” Goyle looked concerned for the first time.

Crabbe stood up from Goyle’s dinning room table. “I’ll find a way.”

“That’s impossible. A search like that could take years,” Goyle explained. “And all we have are days.”

“It seems that the two of you are in need of a bit of assistants.” Crabbe and Goyle turned their heads towards the source of the voice. It was the infamous Lucius Malfoy. “I came as soon as I heard about my boy.” He walked towards them, but there was something missing in his usual overconfident walk that neither Crabbe nor Goyle could place. “Just don’t stand there,” he ordered as he slammed an ancient book onto the table. “I’ve been looking for over two months. Destroying T.A.S. is in this book.”

Crabbe opened the book and flipped through the pages. “It’s blank.”

“Yes, I’ve tried everything,” Lucius shook his head, “but I can’t get it to reveal its writings.”

Just then Angelina entered into the dinning room. “Lucius?” He then turned to see his daughter-in-law. They stared at each other for what seemed like years, but in actuality it was only a few moments. Lucius then slowly closed his eyes as he bowed his head and slowly rose it back up as he once again looked upon Angelina. It was a small gesture, but it was enough for her and she smiled. “You’re welcome Lucius.”

Lucius hide a smile as he looked at the woman who had saved his life. “Alright enough with the foolishness girl,” he told her. “We have work to do.” He showed her the book.

“Of course.” Angelina then examined the book and, like Crabbe, flipped through the blank pages. Her head snapped up. “I’ve seen something like this before.”

“So have I,” Lucius told her. “With Riddle’s diary, it’s not the same.”

Angelina looked at him strangely, she didn’t understand what what he was talking about. “Okay, but like I was saying, I’ve seen this before.” She picked up the book and handed it to Crabbe. “Take it to Fred, Vincent. He and George used to have these notebooks that they were always writing in, but whenever anyone else looked into it, they were blank. It''s old magic, if anyone can make the writings in the book appear it’s Fred.” Crabbe rolled his eyes, the last person he wanted to see was Fred, but he would do what needed to be done.
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As Fred opened his front door to see a very pleased looking Crabbe, he wanted nothing more than to strike him down where he stood. Crabbe knew the conflict that would ensue if he brought Angelina to his home and he had done it anyway, but why, Fred wasn’t quite sure.

“Look at this.” Crabbe shoved the book into Fred’s arms. “We need to know what it says before we attack the castle, it may be the key in bringing down the Dark Lord and his Queen,” he explained.

“Fine,” Fred tried to keep the sound of loathing from his voice that he was feeling towards Crabbe at the moment. Fred sat down on the couch and placed the book in front of him on the coffee table.

“So,” Crabbe’s smile grew wider as he took a seat and grew comfortable. “Where’s the missus?”

Fred’s headed snapped towards him. “Let’s just stick to business today, okay?” Crabbe only looked at him and nodded when there came a knock at the door. “It’s open!” Fred yelled.

The person slowly opened the door and stepped through. “I’ve come for the rest of my things.” Fred looked at Faith sadly and simply dipped his head towards her and turned back towards the book, which he finally flipped through. Faith walked to the bedroom and closed the door behind her to pack in peace.

Crabbed looked to Fred. “You won’t even fight for her will you?”

“What the hell does it matter to you?” Fred asked angrily.

“You’ll run after another man’s wife, but you can’t go after the woman who supposedly still loves you?” Crabbe asked as he shook his head. “You are exactly the person, I always knew you were, Weasley.” He stood up and walked out of Fred’s line of sight. Fred, pushing Crabbe’s comment aside went back to the matter at hand, so he didn’t see Crabbe walk towards the bedroom and knock on the door before going inside.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Crabbe felt the force of a hand belt across his face. “Why did you bring her here? Didn’t you think I had it bad enough with just the mere memory of her? But to have her in my home and have him chose her over me?” she asked heatedly before turning away from Crabbe and crossing her arms. She then questioned softly. “Did you really think I deserved that?”

“No, of course not,” he told her. “I’ll admit that I went about it the wrong way, but I was only trying to make you see, that he will always treat you like some runner-up, like some consolation prize.”

“That’s not what it was like,” she said.

“Why are you lying to me or more importantly to yourself?” he inquired. “Faith, if you deserve anything, it’s someone better than Weasley.” He reached out for her, but she stepped away.

“And let me guess, you think that someone is you?”

“I would like to be,” he responded. “Faith, you deserve someone who will love you as if you are his everything and not just because he’s afraid of being alone like Weasley.” Faith cast her eyes downward. “Why do you allow him your heart when all he does it break it?”

“I don’t-” she stopped and then after a moment asked in a whisper. “Would you ever break it?”

“Never,” he said hastily. “And if I did, it would be the day I died.”

Faith shook her head and turned around so she could continue to gather her things. “But I still love Freddy.”

Crabbe frowned at the sound of his name. “Then I’ll wait,” he began. “I’ll wait for all of time, if that’s what you want.” His head then gradually dropped down towards the floor. “But if you don’t, then I’ll never bother you again.” His eyes then rose to look at Faith. “Do you want me to wait?” His whole expression pleaded with her. “Because I will.”

Faith looked up at the man that was standing across from her. She knew if she allowed herself to be with him, that he would never be the reason tears fell from her eyes. She knew she would never have to share his heart or his thoughts.

So why was she denying herself something she knew could be great? Because no man, including Fred, had ever shown her such unquestioning devotion before. But then she thought, how could she give up on Fred so quickly? She knew that their separation was only a temporary thing and that eventually they would find their way back to each other; sure they both had their faults, but they were only human, right?

Making her decision Faith leisurely made her way towards Crabbe and stood facing him. She slowly shook her head. “I don’t want you to wait Vincent.”

“Oh,” he closed his eyes as he felt a sharp pain in his chest and he nodded his head. “Alright. I understand.”

“No, you don’t.” Crabbe opened his eyes with shock as he felt Faith’s hands on his chest. She then slid them up and locked her fingers behind his neck. She smiled softly, a little embarrassed by her actions, as Crabbe’s aching heart eased and he once again closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around his Faith.

“What the hell?” Fred yelled as he opened the bedroom door.

Faith gasped with wide eyes and quickly pulled away. “Freddy, I-”

“You owe him no explanation,” Crabbe cut her off and then looked to Fred. “Her business is no longer of your concern, Weasley.” He then whispered to Faith, “Finish with your things love. We should be ready to go soon.” Crabbe then walked pass Fred and went out the door. “Come Weasley,” he ordered. “We don’t have time to waste.”

“You know I liked you a lot better, when you didn’t speak,” Fred retorted before turning to Faith. “You’ve made a ghastly mistake by choosing him.”

Faith looked hurt by his comment, but then said, “Maybe the only ghastly mistake I’ve made, was not yielding to him sooner.” Finding herself tired Faith pulled out her wand and her things soon began to pack themselves.

Fred scoffed before turning on his heels and heading back towards the living room. “This is amazing,” he heard Crabbe say as he held the book in one hand and flipped through the pages with the other.

“Thank you,” Fred said. “It was easy really, all I had to do was-” he was cut off.

“Did I ask you how you did it?” He looked up from the book. Crabbe was actually very impressed, Fred had done something in a few minutes, that Lucius couldn''t seem to do with months of time, but of course he wasn''t going to let Fred know that. He then pulled out his wand, shrunk the book, and put both items away. “You do not know how happy I will be, once this war is over and I no longer have to see your face.”

“Same here,” Fred said slowly.

“Vincent?” Faith called.

“Yes?”

“Are you ready?”

He looked over at her and smiled. “I am.” He held out his hand and she shyly walked over to him and took it. “Let’s go.”

Before closing the front door behind her, Faith turned around to look at the man she had given nearly six years of her life to. “Good-bye, Freddy. I really do hope you find what you’re looking for. I’m just sorry that it wasn’t with me.” And with that she was gone.

Fred stood and stared at the door he had just seen Crabbe and Faith leave out of. His brown eyes were a blazed with fire, full of hate as he narrowed them and snarled, "You haven''t seen the last of me, that I promise you."
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It was early morning as Goyle prepared breakfast for himself and his two houseguests. “Morning.” Angelina came through the kitchen door wearing a borrowed housecoat of Goyle’s that he never wore.

“Morning,” he said. The air was full of tension. “It’s still early, I’m guessing you had a hard time sleeping too.”

Angelina went and got a mug from an upper cabinet. “Something like that.” She poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot Goyle had made. After placing the pot back she put both hands around her mug and just stared into it. “Tomorrow’s a big day. A lot can happen.” Goyle stopped what he was doing and looked at Angelina, whose back was to him. “I’m afraid, Gregory,” she told him with a shaky voice.

“I don’t think you would be human if you weren’t.” He fixed them both a plate and took them to the table. “Sit with me and eat, before it gets cold.” Angelina turned around and made her way to the table. She picked up her fork and ate her food gingerly. “I’m not trying to poison you.”

“What?” She looked up from her food.

“You’re acting as if it’s going to bite you back.” He smiled. “I know I’m not the best cook, but I assure you it won’t.” His smiled faded. “Besides, you’ll need your strength for tomorrow.”

She sighed at his words. “I just want Draco and my Rosalina back.”

“And we’ll get them back.” Goyle took a sip of his drink and then looked to Angelina. “So tell me, how much has Draco told you?” Angelina looked at him curiously. “You do know that tomorrow. . . that there is more at stake then what appears?”

Angelina looked back at her plate. “Do you think I’m a stupid woman, Gregory?” she asked.

“No, of course not,” he told her honestly.

She sighed. “Look, I’ll admit that there are still a lot of things about Draco that I don’t know. He has kept me, for many years, in the dark.” She picked at her food finally taking a bite. “Yet, no matter how one may love him, he is still nothing more, than the child I met back in school,” she explained. “Draco just doesn’t want to take down the Dark Lord, it’s more like,” she paused trying to find the right words. “It’s like, he wants to be the next Dark Lord.” She looked to Goyle who was making a gesture. “Don’t try to deny it, because I know I’m right. I know because taking down the Dark Lord, without there being something to gain, isn’t Draco.”

Goyle studied her for a moment. “You know him better than you think, Angelina.”

She shook her head. “No, but anyone with common sense can see Draco lives for two things: Control and Power.”

“I think you mean three.”

“Excuse me?”

“He lives for family too.” Goyle smiled which made Angelina smile too.

“How touching,” came a dull voice. Angelina looked up and Goyle turned around in his seat to see Lucius enter the kitchen. He went to the counter and grabbed the plate Goyle had fixed for him and then joined the others at the table. “So tell me girl, not counting the last of course, what do you think of my son’s so-called cause?” Angelina only looked at him. “Well?” he grew impatient.

Angelina looked to Lucius without fear. “I don’t care about his cause, he’s my husband and I’ll stand by him through anything.” Lucius was a bit taken back by her statement, but he soon nodded and began his breakfast.
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Later that day while Goyle was out, Lucius approached Angelina. “I have something for you.” He told her and turned around towards the guest room he was residing in. Angelina looked strangely at his retreating form before she stopped what she was doing and followed him. When she entered the room to meet the waiting Lucius she noticed the box in his hands. “Take it.”

Angelina took the rectangular box and sat on the bed to open it. She didn’t understand what this was about until she saw the gift that Lucius had given her. She looked up at him. “These are mine?” He nodded. Angelina then reached into the box and pulled out her very own silver dagger with initials and all. She held it out and rotated it in her hand. “It’s lighter than Draco’s.”

“For speed,” he told her. “Draco’s blade is heavier because with his fervor in battle he needs the durability. But if it makes you feel any better, my own blade is the same weight as yours.”

“Do all Malfoy women receive blades?” she asked.

Lucius shook his head. “Only the worthiest, a true Malfoy.”

Angelina took in the significance of his words. She smiled as she realized she finally had Lucius’ approval. In his eyes she was now equal and deserving of the name Malfoy. “Thank you,” she said softly.

“I pray you know how to use it,” he asked.

“Actually no,” she began as she lifted her leg and rolled up her pants to strap the holster below her calf. “But I’ll know by tomorrow.” Lucius smirked at her fortitude.

“There’s something else,” he told her as he reached into his pocket and pulled something out of it.

He then tossed it in Angelina’s direction and she caught it. She looked at the small clear vial, which was not labeled and only half-full. “What is this?” She looked to Lucius curiously.

“There’s a good chance that not all of us are going to see the end of tomorrow. And if I am one of them, I need you to follow my instructions,” he explained. “I need you to take the contents of that vial every six months staring in June. The vial will then refill itself and then in another six months only take half. Understand?”

“Yeah,” she said slowly.

“Good.” He then started towards the bedroom door to leave.

“Lucius wait.” She stood up and he turned back to her. “What is this?” She held up the vial.

Lucius smiled. “Come now girl, do you honestly think the child was a fluke? I’ve been slipping that to you for the passed three years,” he explained. “Wasn’t hard really, you always seemed to have a glass nearby.” He then added as an afterthought, “You should really watch that.”

“You sound like, Draco,” she told him. “He always makes it sound like I have a problem.” She then frowned as she looked back at the vial, not really sure what to think about Lucius slipping it to her and her never noticing. “So. . . what exactly is it?”

“It fixes the damage that was done to your reproductive organs when you went to South America.” Angelina shivered; it was still something she didn’t want to think about. “But its results are temporary, that’s why you must take it twice a year. You must also keep it hidden. As you know, what you had done is greatly frown upon in the Wizarding World. So of course, the vial contents are illegal, even in the Dark Lord’s eyes,” he made clear. “I took great lengths and pulled many favors for it,” he added.

Angelina nodded as the wheels in her head began to spin and then it clicked. “You bastard,” she seethed slowly. “This is what has been making me sick.”

“I’ll admit, you seem to have grown a slight allergic reaction to it,” he stated casually.

“Slight allergic reaction!” She looked at him in incredulity. “There have been days on end, where I can’t keep down my food, there were fevers I couldn’t break, and twice I almost fell down the stairs from fatigue.” She threw the bottle back at him and he caught it with both hands at his waist. “And for what? To produce a male heir?” She shook her head from side to side. “Does my health mean nothing?”

“Girl, you are overreacting,” he stated calmly. “You’re not going to die for it or anything.”

“Bloody hell! You could have fooled me.” She then stormed passed him to leave the room.

But before she reached the door, Lucius’ arm shot out and grabbed her forcefully. His face came very close to hers as he growled with impatience, “You may not like my methods, but you will obey them.” He then shoved the bottle back into her hand. “And you will give my boy a son.”

“Father-in-law or not,” Angelina ripped herself from his grip. “Touch me again and you just may be the first to taste the steel of my new gift,” she threatened before leaving the room, vial still in hand. Lucius smiled to himself. She was definitely a Malfoy.

 
Chapter Twenty-two: The Bonds that Break

Draco laid, breathing shallowly, on the dirty cold stone floor of the dungeon. He was awake, but his eyes remained closed, for he was too tired to open them. His mind had become detached from the world and he had lost track of time. He didn’t know whether he had been here for weeks, months, or just mere days. He just didn’t know anymore as his broken body laid still on the floor.

Voldemort had come in numerous times and had beaten the chained Draco, not for information, but just for the amusement of it. Draco had become his toy, his instrument of sadistic pleasure, and there was nothing he could do. It seemed that Voldemort didn’t prefer using his wand when torturing his victims, Draco realized as he recalled when Voldemort had, on more than one occasion, grabbed a handful of Draco’s hair and slammed him up against the wall, far too many times to count, before letting him fall to the floor like some ragged doll. He would then proceed to kick Draco around; his shouts of pain and groans of suffering only edged Voldemort on, rekindling his need for play with his toy.

Draco would fall in and out of consciousness during the time consuming ordeal. There was even once, not that long ago, when a warmness fell over his body and all the pain melted away. He found himself standing, freed of his chains, but immersed in darkness. Then all of sudden, out of nowhere, there appeared a sky-bluish light that beckoned him. And as he approached, he heard the sweetest sound his ears had ever heard, it was a chorus singing the most beautiful song and it, for some reason, made him feel safe.

But as he got closer, some invisible force tugged at him, slowing down his pace. There then came a buzzing in his ears that wouldn’t go away as he continued to walk. But soon the buzzing sound faded away and it was replaced with a soft, sweet voice. I need you to live. Draco cocked an eyebrow curiously; he knew those words, he knew that voice, but from where, he couldn’t remember. So he decided just to shake it off and continue towards the light.

Will you live for me, Draco? There it was again, that strange voice, but the tone was different than the last, this one held a hint of desperation. Will you live for me? Draco then took a staggering step back from the light and then another. What was he doing? Escape from his torment was right in front of him, yet he was going in the opposite direction. I love you, Draco Lucius Malfoy. And all of sudden he knew, it all came back like a flash of lightning in the night sky.

“Angelina,” he said breathlessly to himself. Draco then turned around and started running into the darkness, away for the warmth, away from the comforting light that beckoned him. He headed back at full speed towards the engulfing coldness, towards a world he knew would cause him pain, but he knew he would endure it, if only to see her face. . . one more time.

How long ago had that experience been, Draco could no longer recall, he couldn’t even remember if it was real, or just a really cruel dream, because as he laid on the floor he began to doubt if he would make it out of this room.

Ginny had come in on a few occasions with her husband. At first she looked absolutely mortified at the lashing he was receiving from Voldemort, but soon clapped her hands and laughed along with her husband. “Sick dog,” Draco said to himself as he remembered her joy filled face.

But then after one excruciating thrashing Ginny had witnessed, she did something strange. Later on in the day she came back down to the dungeons and rested silently next to Draco on her knees. Draco, involuntarily, jumped when he felt the touch of her hand on his face. She recoiled a bit at the suddenness of movement of someone who had been lying so still. She then swept his matted, blood stained hair from his face.

The next thing Draco knew was the sensation of a warm wet towel on his forehead. Ginny was tenderly cleaning the dirt and dried blood from his wounds. His cross like scar on his left cheek, which had been long healed, had violently been ripped open during his trial with Voldemort. Ginny had even been able to get passed Voldemort a morsel of food for him.

But Ginny’s rare lapse of kindness did not go unpunished. When Voldemort came back down to play with his toy he noticed Draco’s clean face. He marched right back up the dungeon stairs. He returned yelling and dragging an unwilling Ginny with him. If Draco had been more than halfway conscious, he would have noticed that Voldemort’s usually emerald green eyes had been red and brighter than fire. But Voldemort’s eyes were not a concern to Draco who had received another beating more vicious and frantic than the last. But the beating had not been fun for Voldemort, for it was a punishment for Ginny to watch.

Draco also noticed a third person coming down to visit him, but the person always came when it was too dark to make out anything. The person would say and do nothing most of the time as they kept their distant. It was as if the person came in just to witness Draco’s fallen state, as if satisfied with his harmless position.

Only once did this mysterious person come close to Draco and only close enough so that they could spit in his face before leaving. Draco was then left alone with his own unforgiving thoughts. All he wanted to know was if his wife and child were all right and every unbearable moment he didn’t know just tore through him worse than any thrashing he could receive. But he knew he had to stay strong, because he would be damned if he let Voldemort break him.

All of sudden, Draco thought he heard a faint explosion as the ground underneath him seemed to shake. He soon heard the rustling of feet and mumbled voices from outside the dungeon door. There was then a loud thud and Draco being curious opened one eye to see what was going on. It was still dark and all he could see were garbled black shadows coming down the stairs and approaching him.

“Malfoy!” someone said loudly. Draco opened his other eye and tried to concentrate on the person saying his name, but couldn’t.

“I got you,” Draco felt someone pick him up. “I got you.” The person had strong hands, but they were gentle as they lifted him off the floor and he could hear the rattling of keys in the background.

He then felt cool air on his wrists as he became free from his chains. “Vince?” he said weakly as his eyes finally focused upon Crabbe’s face.

“Yeah,” he answered as he had Draco put his arm around his neck. “Can you stand?”

“Barely,” he confessed as he staggered to his feet, hanging on tightly to Crabbe. He then looked around and realized that it was more than him and Crabbe in the room. He looked at Lawson, who was putting a ring of keys back into his pocket before he came up on Draco’s other side to help him up the stairs. “Let go of me,” Draco demanded. “I can do it on my own.”

“Now is not the time for pride Malfoy,” Crabbe stated.

“I can walk myself,” he told him.

“You just admitted yourself that you can barely stand,” Crabbe tried to reassure him. “No one will look upon you differently, so let us help you.”

“I will not appear weak,” Draco said stubbornly.

“No one will think you weak, Malfoy,” Lawson spoke up. “Many would not have lasted as long as you did down here.”

Draco turned his head towards Lawson. “Let me go.” Lawson looked to Crabbe, who merely nodded his head for there was no reasoning with Draco.

“As you wish.” And Lawson pulled.

Draco turned back to Crabbe. “Now you.” Crabbe gave him one more pleading look. “Please.” Crabbe dipped his head and then slowly pulled away from his friend. It then took a moment for Draco to gain his footing as he braced himself against the wall, when he did he started shakily up the stairs. “Crabbe, where are my wife and child?” he asked as Crabbe and Lawson followed him up.

When they reached the top and exited out the door Draco stood before several of his followers. He also found several Death Eaters lying motionless on the ground. One of his men then handed him his wand. “Crabbe, status report,” he asked again as there was another faint explosion followed by a soft trimmer.

“She’s on the other side of the castle with Goyle.” Draco’s head swiftly turned towards him. The living quarters of the Voldemorts were on that side. “They went for-”

“I know what they went for,” Draco cut him off as he headed down the hall towards the stairs that led above ground. He then stated. “You’ve initiated war.”

“We had no choice,” Crabbe explained as he continued to follow. “They discovered where the others were when they had you followed there.”

“shoot,” Draco said softly to himself. “You just had to go see them didn’t you?”

Crabbe continued, not hearing Draco speak to himself. “The majority of our people are posted outside, where most of the battle is taking place. The only people who are inside are those who were already in here and those who apparated in before the wards went up.”

“Right,” he said as the approached the bottom of the stairs and started their trip up them. “Was anyone able to locate my dagger?” he asked feeling a strong need for it, but no one responded. “No matter, I can do without it.”
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

On the other end of the castle Angelina and Goyle, had been traveling a while, as they made their way down the darken hall. Angelina gripped her wand firmly in her hand and swallowed hard as their soft steps could be heard on the ground below them. Then all of sudden, the only steps Angelina could hear were her own. She turned around to see that Goyle had stopped and that he was merely staring at the floor. “Greg-”

Goyle, with a harsh expression on his face, quickly brought his index finger to his mouth to shush Angelina. He motioned for her to stay where she was. She looked at him curiously as he checked the doors in the hall. He peeked his head into an unlocked room and then ushered Angelina into it.

Angelina followed Goyle’s silent instructions and hid with him in the room. She watched as he closed the door, but left it opened just a crack so that he could peer out of it. Close to a minute later, Angelina heard the sound of footsteps as they approached and passed the door.

“They must be here for Malfoy,” came the voice of a man.

“Of course they are you idiot,” declared the other. “Now quiet, we do not want to be snuck up on.” Angelina’s face immediately scrunched up, she could have sworn she recognized that voice, but that was impossible, he was dead. . . or so she had been told.

Another minute passed before Goyle moved a muscle. He turned around to see Angelina looking a bit ill. “Angelina?” He approached her cautiously. He then lightly took her arm. “Angelina?”

Angelina looked up into Goyle’s black eyes. “Montague,” she whispered. “He’s alive isn’t he?” She waited for Goyle’s response, but he seemed a lose for words. “Gregory, I know his voice. So just tell me that was David.” Had Draco lied to her? “Gregory please, tell me that was David.”

“No,” he finally confirmed. “Montague is dead. Draco saw to that.”

“Don’t lie to me, I heard his voice.”

“No,” he shook his head, “you didn’t.”

Angelina looked angry as she swatted Goyle’s hand away. “I know what I heard. I have only ever mistaken his voice with one other person and that was-” she cut herself off, because what she was about to say, sounded just as unlikely. “And that was Harry,” she said slowly. “How?” She shook her head not knowing how to begin. “I know Harry’s dead. The Dark Lord would not have kept him alive.”

Goyle exhaled. “You should have been told, I’m sorry, it escaped my mind, or else I would have said something sooner,” he began. “As we all learned too late, the Dark Lord was able to gain a body during the year of the first Triwizard Tournament in a century. But his new form did not please his Queen-”

“Who is his Queen?” she cut him off. “Who has my child?” She demanded.

He then said slowly, “You called her once, Ginny Weasley.”

Angelina shook her head back and forth. “You’re mistaken, she died with George. They were killed by Montague.”

“Yes, Montague killed Weasley, but it was Lady Dark Lord who gave the order,” he explained, for he was there that day.

Angelina took in a silent breath and froze at Goyle’s words. She just couldn’t get her head around them. Ginny? Sweet Ginny? The same Ginny she had taken under her wing during Ginny’s fourth year? The same Ginny she let onto her beloved Quidditch team? The same Ginny she mourned over alongside Fred. “I’ll kill her,” Angelina whispered.

“You know you can’t. You read the inscription, that’s not how T.A.S works.”

“Nevertheless,” her face was determined as she continued in a harsh tone. “I will see her die this day.” She stepped around Goyle and headed towards the door. “Now come on, I refuse to sit in a room and cower like some worthless dog.” She then walked out the room as if she owned the place.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Draco felt light-headed, but shook it off as he and his group made their way out of the dungeons. “Lawson, go west and take the others with you, I want to know the status of our forces outside,” he demanded.

“Yes, sir.” Lawson nodded his head and started towards his new destination with the others.

“Crabbe,” he called quickly. “You’re with me, we’re going east.” And so the two traveled along the corridors of the great castle heading east. Fortunately they ran into not one soul, because all of a sudden Draco’s wand clattered to the ground and he grabbed the wall before falling to his knees. That dizzy feeling had returned and his vision was once again blurred.

“Draco,” Crabbe called as he went to him. “You are not up to this,” he told him. “You’ve been in confinement, without food or water, for over a week. You can not afford to push your body beyond its limits,” Crabbe explained worriedly to his pale and weakened friend.

“What I can’t afford,” Draco began angrily as he unsuccessfully tried to push Crabbe away. “Is to not to be able to protect my family.”

“You can not protect them if you are dead,” Crabbe told him callously. “Your stubbornness and your pride, if not controlled, is what’s going to do you in. Now please, put them aside and let me get you out of here.”

“Do not lecture me, Vincent.” Draco picked up his wand and finally rose back to his feet with no assistance for Crabbe. “If you want to be of help to me then tell me how to destroy the Dark Lord and his Queen.”

“Fine,” Crabbe spat. “To destroy the Dark Lord, he must have broken the only thing which is his own and it must come from the very one that ties him to this world.”

Draco, still leaning on the wall, clutching his side, looked to his friend curiously. “What?”

Crabbe sighed. “As you know The Attachment of Solum, binds two souls who love each other. And its destruction must occur within a moment, but because the charm was lost long ago, we had mistaken this ‘moment’ to be an actual time period, but it is not,” he explained. “It is an instant.”

“Vincent, English please.”

“Right,” Crabbe said and then thought, And they thought I was the stupid one. “The thing which is his own, is his heart. The one that ties him to this world, is his Queen,” he clarified. “The only way to destroy them is if one betrays the other and kills them, thus severing their bond which destroys them both.”

“That can’t be right.” Draco shook his head. “I’ve been with Ginny plenty of times during the last few years. I’m not sure if he knew, but I always had the feeling he did,” he said as he recalled his beatings were always more brutal when the Dark Lord had her watching, it was almost as if he was trying to prove something.

“There’s a difference between thinking you know and actually seeing it, Draco,” Crabbe told him. “Which I believe you can vouch for yourself,” he added.

Draco’s eyes shot towards Crabbe. “Why don’t we just keep moving?” he said bitterly as his face winced in pain as he pushed himself off the wall. As he did this, his ears unexpectedly peaked up, he thought he heard something and turned his head to look along the grim hallway.

“Avada Kedavra!” Draco heard someone yell.

There was a ray of electric green light and Draco, forgetting his pain, leaped out pushing Crabbe out the way of its path. The curse had missed them, but only by a small margin; it was still able to clip Draco’s shirt, deteriorating the fabric to mere dust.

Draco had been bruised and beaten, but his reflexes were still faster than any normal man. His wand was at arm’s length before he and Crabbe even hit the floor. “Stupefy!” he yelled out in the direction the curse had come from and then he crashed to the floor along with Crabbe.

The wind had been knocked out of Draco as the pain he was feeling came back three fold. He opened his mouth and loudly gasped for air as Crabbe got back to his feet and walked over to inspect their attacker, his wand ready in hand.

Draco sat up slowly, trying to push through the pain. He then, with a little more effort, got to his feet and shuffled over to Crabbe standing over the man he had stunned. Before he reached him, he heard Crabbe mumble to himself, “You surprise me.”

“Who is it?” Draco’s voice cracked as he closed his eyes and rubbed one with his hand, his vision once again hazy.

“Doesn’t matter,” Crabbe said as he pointed his wand downward. “Avada Kedavra,” he said softly, but with a hate that was all too apparent. “We should keep moving,” he said seriously, as he took Draco above the elbow and lead him down the hall. A moment later, Draco tore himself from Crabbe’s hand and then proceeded to smack him upside the head. “What the hell?” He turned to him angrily. “What was that for?”

“One, for treating me like a invalid. Two, for being a slow retard and not getting the frack out of the way,” he simply said and continued walking, holding his torso even tighter.

Crabbe smiled as he rubbed the back of his head. “You do know, ‘slow retard’ is redundant, right?”

“Shut up,” Draco said annoyed. “And move your lard arse, I don’t have all day.”

Crabbe gave off a low, deep laugh before saying, “Aw, I love you too, Dray.”

“Oi,” he smiled as Crabbe walked by his side, “you’re worst than Greg.”
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“No,” Crabbe stated as he shook his head. “As in, ‘hell no’. If we do that you’ll only end up getting yourself killed. It won’t work. We’ll think of something else. We’ll work around it,” he voiced his opinion about Draco’s newly devised plan.

“You know very well we can’t work around it and we don’t have the time to think of something else.” Draco pointed ahead, indicating the east wing was fast approaching.

“Draco-” Crabbe began to protest again, but was cut off.

“Were you stationed in-house tonight?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Then I know it’ll work, he doesn’t know. So go don your robes,” he told Crabbe, but he still looked doubtful as there was another explosion. “I’ll be okay,” he reassured him with a tired smile.

Crabbe looked at him for a moment longer nodding his head as he hide his overcoming concern. “Fine,” he finally told him. “Will an hour suffice?”

“Yes,” Draco confirmed. “Keep out of sight until then.” Crabbe once again nodded and then began going down the north corridor. Draco watched him enter into the blackness of the hall and then turned around to begin his journey south.

This was not the first time Draco had walked down the south corridor of the east wing. He had made this trip many times before in the past, but little did he know then, that doing so would help him now. All of a sudden Draco heard a familiar sound and it made his heart soar. They were the cries of his only child and despite the soreness that burned his body he picked up his step.

He was headed towards Ginny’s bedchamber, he had a mission, and it had to be completed. “Ginny!” he said hoarsely, out of breath, collapsing outside her open door. The long journey from the dungeon to here, fighting off Death Eaters at every other turn, was finally taking its toll.

Ginny gasped as she turned her head quickly towards the voice, holding the squirming child in her arms even tighter. “Malfoy! How did you escape?”

“Ginny, please.” Draco reached for her from the floor. “Please.”

Ginny looked at Draco seemingly helpless on the floor. “If you wish to harm me,” she began. “You can not pass these wards. They are strong and as old as time.” Draco didn’t wish to harm Ginny, not physically anyway, so he put one arm passed the threshold of her door, showing her he meant her no harm. Ginny’s eyes held tight on Draco as she rocked his child, debating her course of action. Tom? She mentally linked with him, her thoughts shaky.

Make it quick my Queen, he told her hurriedly, for outside the castle walls he was on a killing spree and was very much enjoying himself. But Ginny didn’t answer him right away; instead she was still staring at the defeated looking Draco. Beloved? Voldemort called worriedly before snapping the neck of a blonde traitor to him and letting him fall ungracefully into the snow. Beloved, is it the child? he asked.

No, Desamona is fine, she said referring to the renamed Rosalina. It’s just that-

Ginny! he called loudly when their connection broke. Ginny what’s wrong?

Nothing. Never mind. I can handle this on my own. . . for now.

Are you sure?

Yes, my love. Now have your fun. She ended their link before resting the now calm Rosalina into her crib. She then rushed over to Draco and helped pull him to his feet. “If Tom finds you here, he’ll kill you for sure.”

“Your heart is still kind, Ginny,” he told her as she placed him gently onto her bed.

“An amusing thought, but no,” she said sadly. “I turned over my heart a long time ago.”

“It doesn’t stop you from being who you are. You are a kind soul, Ginny.” He reached out for her face. “No matter who your husband may be.”

“Why did you come here, Draco?” she asked. “You’re in a weaken state. I could easily kill you right now, you know.”

“Yes,” he dipped his head, “but you won’t.”

“How do you know?” she asked.

Draco smiled as he brought her face closer to his and then whispered. “Because you never could resist me.”

She chuckled softly. “Nor you I.” She then slipped away from his touch and lifted herself from the edge of the bed. “You’re safe here for now.” She looked over him. “I’m going to run you some water. It seems you’re due for a long bath.”

Draco merely nodded. When she entered the adjacent bathroom Draco, as swiftly as he could, rose from the bed and walked over to the crib, which he couldn’t see from the bed, where his daughter rested peaceful. “Thank you,” he said particularly to no one as he rested his eyes on his child whom he had not seen since he left Percy’s. Where is Percy? Draco thought for the first time, but then realized he didn’t care, for he only wanted to concentrate on Rosalina.

He stroked her soft curls dotingly as she stirred and looked up at him. She smiled and cooed at the friendly face she had not seen in a long time. She reached out her chubby arms for him, longing to be picked up by the man she once used to see everyday and Draco complied. “My precious flower,” he spoke as he held her. “Daddy has missed you so much.” He smiled down at her. “Now don’t worry, we’re going to get out of here and we’re going to see mommy very soon. She’s with your godfather, so I know she’s safe, for Greg has never failed me.” Draco then softly began to sing to her and soon she closed her eyes and happily went back to sleep.

“Your bath is ready, Draco,” he heard Ginny say as he was putting Rosalina back into her crib. “Come let me help you.” She smiled as she took Draco’s hand and led him to the bathroom.

Inside the bathroom Ginny striped Draco of his dirty and tattered clothing. She gently touched the dark black and blue bruises that littered his body. Draco lowered his head in shame, feeling vulnerable under her scrutinizing hazel eyes. “Ow!” he yelled out, before he could stop himself, when she pressed a little too hard on a bruise.

“Sorry,” she whispered before helping him down into the bath that was built into the floor. Ginny then took off her own clothes and lowered herself beside Draco in the bubble filled water. She picked up a clean wash towel and lathered it with soap before she then, for second time since his arrival in the castle, cleaned his face. When she finished with his hair, face, and neck she moved on to his shoulders and the rest of his body above and below the water. “How’s that feel?” she asked.

Draco’s eyes had been closed as he felt the steaming water engulf him and ease the aching wounds of his body. He smiled in response to Ginny’s question, her gentle touch sending a pleasurably chill throughout him. He then opened his eyes, she had not noticed as she was once again cleaning his chest. Draco then lifted his hand out the water and stopped her hand.

At this she stopped and allowed her hand to rest gingerly, so not to hurt him, upon his chest. She returned his smile before he pushed himself forward off the bath wall and without hesitation claimed her lips with his own, as if he didn’t do so that very second, he would no longer be able to breathe.

She smiled against his mouth and giggled before pulling away. “Come, let’s get you dry,” she told him and rose from the bath allowing the water to rush down her small frame. She summoned a large blue bath towel as Draco rose from the water. She then helped him out of the bath and proceeded to dry him off. When she was finished she summoned a couple of housecoats before drying herself off and getting into one.

Silently, hand and hand, they made their way back to the bedroom. While resting in the bed, Ginny heard Draco’s stomach and knowing Draco would never admit he truly needed anything, she ordered a few House Elves to bring them some food.

With a full stomach and with the leisure of a hot bath, Draco was feeling better than he had in days. “So,” Ginny ventured. “Is there anything else you need?” She smiled knowingly, licking her lips. “Anything else you want?”

Draco’s eyes sparkled as he gave off a low chuckle as he eased Ginny onto her back and untied her housecoat and then his own before positioning himself between her legs. She wrapped her arms tenderly around his back as she explored the concave of his mouth with her tongue. “Tighter,” he ordered her when they parted for air and she did as she was told. She noticed his body tensed in pain, but he said not one word, for there was pleasure in it.

Draco then continued to kiss Ginny’s delicate soft skin, in all the places he knew she liked. She moaned under the touch of his lips on her neck and at the cool palm of his hand as it fondled the supple flesh of her breast, making her nipple hard in reaction. She then felt his long fingers glide down the side of her body and over the curve of her hip. It was followed by the feel of his nails digging into her thigh as he dragged them down her fair skin, leaving red burning marks in their wake.

Ginny gasped at the speed he used as his hand cupped under her knee and forced it up the side of his body. Draco grinned at the expression on her face as he entered her just as suddenly causing the same one to appear. She then giggled contently as she pulled him closer, wanting to feel the heat of his body on top of her.

They made love quietly, lost in the escape of the other’s essence when Draco heard the loud, sharp intake of air from a man. A smug expression appeared on his face as he thought, Right on time. But then he heard something strange. “No. Wait.” That wasn’t Voldemort’s voice.

Draco quickly rose off of Ginny and turned his torso around. His eyes grew wide as he saw Goyle on the other side of the open doorway. . . which only meant one thing. “What do you mean ‘wait’?” Angelina pushed passed Goyle and froze where she stood as the sight of Draco and Ginny came into her view.

Draco felt his stomach drop as he saw his wife’s inconsolable face. “Angelina-” he said quickly wanting to explain, but was cut off.

“Well, hello Angie. Long time no see,” Ginny said in her sickly sweet voice as she sat up and wrapped her arms back around Draco’s neck. “We’ve been expecting you.”

“Yes, we have,” came the deep voice of Voldemort, whom Draco couldn’t see because he was out in the hall with Angelina and Goyle.

Angelina took an impulsive step back, as if seeing the dead walk when she looked upon Harry’s face, and ran into Goyle, who quickly shove her protectively behind him. “Run!” he yelled at her, but she hesitated, griping her wand, ready to fight, but Goyle shoved her again. “Run!” And so she did.

“Not so fast, dearest.” Voldemort pulled out his wand and pointed it towards Angelina’s retreating form. “Avada Kedavra!” he yelled and a gust of green light went shooting out of the end of his wand, but it never reached its intended target.

“GOYLE!” Draco yelled out as he watched his best friend drop to his knees, his eyes roll into the back of his head, and then the rest of his body collapse to the floor. Draco fought like a wild animal to get out of bed, but found that he couldn’t.

“See Malfoy,” Ginny whispered harshly as she held on, unnaturally strong, to a struggling Draco. “I told you, I turned over my heart a long time ago.”
Chapter Twenty-three: The Malfoy Curse Part II

Once upon a time, at the very dawn of time, there was a omnipotent being. It was a being of the brightest light surrounded by a mist of clouds with blue glittering specks that flowed around it.

It was a happy being, but alone within it’s infinite black space. So it decided that it would build a world and occupy it with ones it could play with. After constructing a ball of blue waters and green lands, it decided it needed someone who could look over this world alongside it. So it made a friend with a spark of its own light and so it was named, Lior the Spark of Light.

Lior was a solid form unlike his creator, he had long golden hair and eyes sprinkled with his creator’s glitter. And Lior walked the world that his creator made and having the same powers of his creator he put them to good use.

On the blue and green ball that he named Earth, he created the sky and within it the moon, the sun, and the stars. He created the wind and the rain, and all that the Earth would ever need.

Lior made the Earth beautiful and luscious hoping to please his creator. And he had, his creator was very please with what he had done. His creator then proceeded to create other beings designed from that of Lior and Lior was pleased for such an honor.

The omnipotent being made two sets of other beings. It made those like Lior, but with less and different powers and then those who had none at all. And the omnipotent being created animals, two of each kind, to roam the Earth freely, it then turned to Lior and asked if he would like to make a new creature to fill the Earth.

Lior nodded and with his long fingers created a small creature, graceful within its movement as it slide across the grass like water, he then made it a mate, and Lior named the creatures Serpent and his creator was pleased.

Much time had passed by and the creator thought it would be best to change its form to look like those it had created. Lior smiled as his creator changed before him and asked Lior, its most prized creation, to name its solid form. “I will name you after my most prized creation,” Lior said as he bent down and picked up a beautiful flower and brought it to his creator’s newly form hand. She took it within her grasp. “I shall call you Blossom my Flower. Does that please you, Creator?”

“Yes, it pleases me so,” she smiled as she reached out her hand, which was the color of cinnamon, to touch his cheek, “my Spark of Light.”

Lior closed his eyes and tilted his faced into her touch. “I hope that I always please you. . . my flower.”

And for a time to follow, Blossom and Lior were happy with one another as they watched what they had created inhabit and populate the earth. But one bright sunny day, Lior found himself alone as he traveled and soon wondered where Blossom had gone.

“Do not search for her,” came the sound of a small voice.

“Who are you?” asked Lior as he turned and spotted a small child.

“I am Time,” said the small child. “My name is Past.” Then next to her appeared a middle-aged woman and then an elderly woman. “And if you search for her now, you will curse your past. . .”

“You will curse your present. . .” said the middle-age woman.

“And you will curse your future,” said the elderly woman.

Lior looked at them strangely. Who were they to tell him what to do? “Nonsense, you know not what you speak. Blossom wants me with her, I am her prized creation.” He pushed the three out of his way and continued on his journey through the woods. Soon he heard the soft laughing of his creator and he smiled as he pushed tree branches out of his way to be near her. As he reached the clearing, he stopped and a frown occupied his features.

His creator was in the arms of another she had created. He had hair the color of fire and eyes as blue as the deepest oceans. “Flower,” Lior said harshly as he approached the two.

“Hello, Light,” she said calmly as she rested her head on the other man’s shoulder. “This is Ignatius of Burning Fire.” She smiled. “Is he not beautiful?”

Lior looked him over. “Yes, that he is, but certainly you do not mean he is more pleasing to you than I?” he asked worriedly.

“Fire is a fine creation.” She pulled away from him and looked into his blue eyes. “A very fine creation.”

“My flower, please.” Lior levitated from the Earth and reached his hand out to his creator. “Join me in the skies I have created for you, join me in the heavens. Let’s leave this Earth behind for the following.”

“No, today I wish to stay,” she told him. “Be off with you now.”

Lior was a little taken back by her comment, he had never been pushed aside for another. “But- but Flower,” he shuddered and then said angrily, “I was created before him, I am your prized creation, and I demand your presence.” Clouds began to appear in the once cloudless sky.

She looked to him curiously. “You demand of me? Your creator?” she asked. “Then you are more of a fool than I thought, for I am the omnipotent being and you obey me. Now off with you!”

“Yes, you created me, but gave me just as much power,” he warned her. “And if you chose him over me, I will destroy him, and then I will destroy you.”

The creator looked at her creation; she looked at her Light and she saw a hate radiating so fiercely within him that it paled his blue eyes and they shone silver. It was a hate and jealousy so strong that his long golden hair lost its color and looked as white as fresh fallen snow.

“You can not destroy me,” she explained to him. “For I live in your heart and to destroy me, means to destroy yourself, because to create you, I used the most of me. So you are a part of me, we are one as we share the same soul.”

“If we share so much, come with me now.” He reached his hand out again before taking a deep breath and saying calmly, “Please.”

“Go Light, I promise I will come to you tonight.”

“And if you do not?” he asked impatiently.

The creator looked surprised. “Is your faith so bad in me you think I lie?”

“Yes,” he said in a low voice as the white clouds in the sky began to turn a gray, matching the emotion he tried to hide behind a passive face.

She shook her head. “If you have no trust in me, then I have no need for you. . . Lior of Bad Faith.” She waved her hand and the levitating Lior came crashing to the ground. The clouds disappeared and the blue sky once again revealed itself. “You have been striped of your importance and the bulk of your power. You shall regain them, when you are the Light I created and not a tempered pride fool. That shall be your curse.”

Lior looked up from the ground and crawled to the feet of his creator. “Will you abandon me, your prized creation?” he asked.

The creator looked to Ignatius. “Leave us be.” And he walked off. The creator then got to her knees and rested in front of Lior. “I will not truly abandon you. If you call me and you ask, I will be there, but you must be punished for lack of faith. You must know your place. You will know obedience.”

“My place is by your side.”

“No,” she told him. “Your place is at my feet and if you choose to stand, it will be forever alone.”

Anger rose back up into his eyes. “I will not be treated like those who came after me! I refuse to be treated like those I created.” He stood and left his creator on her knees.

“You are being foolish,” she told him as anger, for the first time, came into her voice.

“Will you see me not as your equal?”

“No!” She rose to her full height and the two stared each other down.

“Then it is I that abandon you,” he finally spoke.

The creator lowered her eyes, not in submission, but in her lost. “Your punishment should be greater then the one I give you,” she looked back at him, “but I’m going to give you the chance to return to me someday.”

“Don’t bother, because I will teach those who come after me to hate you, to not believe. No one will ask for you, no matter how desperate the situation.”

“Then we have a long journey. . . Lior Malfoy.” She took a step back and returned to her original mist of cloud form and shot into the sky instantaneously and as it did Lior heard the words of the song that would follow his bloodline till the time it came to regain their rightful place:
-
Rich and powerful, that is what a Malfoy shall be,
But generation upon generation, they will not be a comfort to thee.
You shall have your male heir to carry on your name,
To rise to influence that shall be your aim.
But raise your only child, your heir, to be an independent boy,
For he too now carries the curse of the Malfoy.
You shall have your lust of women, knocking at your door,
But their body is all you can have and nothing more.
But if there is anything in this world, there is hope,
But it will be a feeling so strong; his heart may not be able to cope.
And all that once used to taste so sour,
Will be made sweet, with the gift of a flower’s flower.
It may sound easy, but that’s far from the truth,
Because this must occur within the boy’s youth.
It cannot be forced and it cannot be arranged,
For if it is the curse will go unchanged.
The indescribable power of a God, will be at the boy''s finger tips,
And the love of one woman will be at his opening lips.
The boy can do his best, but will more likely to his worst,
She will threaten to leave, but no, for she too now is tied to the Malfoy curse.
Remember trust no one, for the boy is always in the eye of the storm,
Even the most trusted ally, may take an ominous form.
So heed my warning, for they are words one should not destroy,
Because the fate of the curse that lies in my hands, in generation, will rest with one boy.
-

 
Twenty-four: In the End

“After her!” Voldemort yelled to the Death Eaters behind him as he watched Angelina run around a corner. Voldemort then held his hand out not allowing one Death Eater to leave as the others dashed passed them in pursuit of their target. “Beloved,” Voldemort called from down the hall as Draco continued to struggle against Ginny’s vise like grip. “I have a present for you.”

Ginny whipped Draco off of her, like he nothing at all, and magically pinned him to the floor. Ginny then scrambled off the bed as she ran her hand through her hair before closing her robe. “A present?” She smiled brightly as Voldemort came through the door. His hand was wrapped in long white hair; he was dragging a motionless Lucius behind him. Ginny pouted as she watched the body slide across the floor. “Tom.” She whined and then looked into his green eyes. “You promised.”

“No fear, love,” Voldemort told her. “He''s merely unconscious. As you have wished you will watch him be tortured.” His eyes then narrowed as they flickered over to Draco. “Hopefully, you will enjoy the matter this time.” He then loosen his hand from Lucius’ hair and let his head fall onto the ground.

Draco remained silent as he watched his father’s head bounce off the stone floor. Ginny cooed softly as she walked over to Voldemort and rubbed his chest. “Don’t be jealous, love,” she calmed him. “I was just having my fun with him, nothing more.”

Voldemort looked down at her and the side of his mouth curled up as he leered at her. “Jealous? Don’t be foolish,” he titled her chin up, “you know very well who you belong to. Crabbe!” he called not looking up from his wife.

Crabbe had been the Death Eater he had held back. He had not left the hallway when Voldemort entered the room, mostly because he knew he couldn’t. So he stood frozen a ways back from his fallen friend, trying not to let through the pain he felt as his lost. “Yes, my Lord?” Despite what he felt, his voice gave nothing away.

“Come, gather my child,” Voldemort spoke and Draco’s eyes immediately flooded with malice. “Take her to her quarters and don’t wake her.” Crabbe stood before the doorway and shoot a disgusted look towards Draco. Voldemort seeing this seem to understand. “Love, if you please.”

“Of course.” Ginny waved her hand and the ward came into view as sprinkles of light and then dissolved. “Enter Crabbe.”

Crabbe entered and went about his task at hand. He looked to Draco as he passed and though his face gave nothing away, from years of training, Draco knew his friend’s face well and saw the worry behind his deadpan eyes.

After Crabbe left Voldemort walked over to the defenseless Draco on the floor. He squatted beside him and grabbed a handful of Draco’s hair, he yanked back his head to almost a breaking point. “So my love, how should we begin?” A cold shiver ran down Draco’s spine as Ginny slowly grinned, causing a Cheshire Cat like effect, it was then, for the first time in Draco’s life, he knew what the face of evil truly looked like.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Angelina ran as far and as fast as her feet would carry her. She could hear the charge of Death Eaters behind her and they were getting closer with every heartbeat, she knew she had to hide and now. She ran towards the nearest door and prayed that it was not locked, because if it was, she knew she would be caught. She reached for the handle and screamed joyfully in her head as it turned and she rushed inside the pitch black room and closed the door.

A moment later she heard the Death Eaters rush pass her and then the echoes of their footsteps die out. Angelina slowly slide to the floor and covered her mouth with her hand as she tried to stifle her cries. Her shoulders shook violently as tears ran down her face.

Because even though she realized, about a moment later, what Draco was trying to do, she just couldn’t get the image out of her mind; the sight of her husband with that woman. That woman she had once called her friend; that woman she had once considered family. And if that wasn’t enough to break her heart, she knew the moment she heard the curse and Draco yell out his name that he was gone. Goyle, sweet loyal Goyle, was gone.

But Angelina knew she had no time to mourn as she wiped away her tears and stood. Her hand then went to her stomach, that very familiar feeling was back, but she pushed it aside. Again she had no time, she had to go back for her family, no matter the cost, she would save them somehow.

She then began to search for the door handle in the dark room. When she found it she began to turn it, but then very unexpectedly there was a hand on her wrist and she was flipped around and pressed up against the door, slamming it loudly. Before she could even reacted she felt a pair of warm firm lips on her own.

She wanted to pull away, but the kiss was alluring if not intoxicating. A warming calmest washed over her body and she realized she knew these lips, she knew this taste. “Percival,” she said breathlessly when he broke the kiss.

“Angelina,” Percy said just as breathless.

“Percy,” she said slowly. “what’s going on?” She asked as the candles in the room slowly began to light themselves. Angelina could now make out the surrounding of a very posh room. She then started deducting the facts. I was in a cell in the upper tower, Draco was a mile below ground in the dungeons and Percy, he’s. . . her eyes went wide, he turned. “Get off me!” she yelled as she flung her arms wildly, trying to push him away from her.

“Lina! Lina stop!” He grabbed her arms and shoved her back up against the door before covering her mouth with his hand. “Are you trying to get us both killed! Huh?” he asked angrily. “Now settle down. . . please.” Angelina was breathing heavily from the running, the crying, and trying to get free from Percy. “I would never hurt you. You know this right?” They only stared into each other’s eyes. “Right?” he whispered and she nodded. He then removed his hands. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” she told him. “What happened to you when we were captured?”

“I woke up here. Ginny wanted me to join her and the Dark Lord. And I said yes,” Angelina looked fearful and he explained quickly. “But only because I knew if I refused I would be killed. You got to believe me, Ginny is no longer the sister I knew.” He cast his eyes downward. “The Ginny I loved.”

Though she wanted to comfort him, there were other things that had to be done. “Come on,” he spoke as if he realizing the same thing. “I’ve done a lot of exploring around this place in the last few days.” He grabbed Angelina’s hand and led her away from the door towards the fireplace. He slipped his hand around the side of the mantle and pressed in a piece of wood that turned out to be a hidden button.

To Angelina’s knowledge nothing seem to happened. Then Percy led her to the other side of the room towards a large tapestry that hung on the wall. He bent over and took a hold on the corner of it and lifted it up. Behind the tapestry a door appeared. “I’ve learned there are a lot ways to slip out of this place unnoticed. This is an underground passage and within a day’s walk we’ll come up in a nearby village, we can escape this country and it’s chaos.”

“What? No.” Angelina pulled her hand away from Percy’s. “Draco needs me, Rose needs me.” She started back towards the door leading out into the hallway.

“You can’t possibly be seriously.” He seemed upset as he followed her and blocked her way. “Has that man completely addled your brain?”

“That man is my husband,” she told him simply. “I have to protect him.”

“He’s one of them!” Percy yelled at her. “He’s the reason we’re here! A Death Eater through and through and nothing more! Whatever he gets is what he deserves!”

“Shut up!” she yelled back, but then said softly after a moment. “You may think that of Draco, but what about my Rose? What about my daughter?”

Percy turned away from Angelina as he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Tell me Lina, what makes his child-” he held his tongue. “Fine,” he said slowly. “Fine.“ He then replaced his glasses and turned back to her. “I hope you have a plan.”

She shook her head. “All I can tell you, is want I know. Have you ever heard of The Attachment of Solum. . .”
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Draco watched helplessly as he watched his unconscious father being assaulted by Voldemort. Ginny watched from her bed with her head hanging over the edge and her long red hair brushing the floor. She then rolled over and placed her hands under her chin to rest her head. She then yawned before speaking, “Tom?”

“Yes, beloved?” he asked and then took another shoot at Lucius.

“Just stop,” she told him. “It’s no fun if he’s not awake to scream. I want him to know he’s being tortured.” Voldemort turned around to face Ginny. She blinked kind of nervously at the intense glare he was giving her. She sat up on the bed and moved back a bit as he strolled over to her. “Tom, why are you looking at me like that?” she asked him.

Voldemort stood at the edge of the bed and then reached out and took Ginny’s chin. “What is your true reason?”

“What?” she asked as her hand came up and took Voldemort’s hand.

“I’ve been getting this strange vibe off you for weeks now and I want to know why,” he demanded of her.

“Tom, I don’t know what you mean,” Ginny’s voice shook and Draco looked at her quizzically.

“You’ve been blocking your thoughts from me, cutting me off, and acting as if you fear me when I haven’t done you any harm.” He looked at her suspiciously. “And I want to know why?”

She avoided eye contact. “That’s not what’s going on. It’s just-” She was unable to finish.

“Sister, my Lord,” came the voice of Percy from the doorway.

“Percy!” Ginny’s smiled returned to her face as she gently pushed Voldemort’s hand down and moved to one side to see her beloved brother.

Draco turned his head and the moment he saw Percy holding on tightly to Angelina with his wand pressed securely to her neck, he regretted not killing him when he had the chance. “Look what I found,” Percy said with a smile.

Ginny stepped out of bed and wrapped her arms around Voldemort as if she was trying to reassure him through her actions. “And hello again, Angie. Didn’t get very far now did we?”

Voldemort then slipped out of Ginny’s arms and approached Percy and Angelina as they entered the room. Voldemort brought his hand up and lowered Percy’s wand a bit. He then caressed the soft skin of Angelina’s neck with his rough fingers. Angelina took in a shot of air through her nose. He gave a short chuckle at her reaction. “Tom?” Ginny said warily.

Voldemort looked over his shoulder, his eyes on Draco. “Tell me love, will she be fun for you?” He turned fully to face Ginny. “Or do you have some complaint or excuse, to once again try to get out of something, that once gave you great delight?”

“Tom don’t start this. It is not the time.” Her eyes narrowed at him and the two stared defiantly at each other. Unknown to them at that moment, Percy pointed his wand at Draco and whispered the spell that released the invisible binds that held him.

Draco immediately felt the pressure that once surrounded his body lift. He then took an unrestricted breath. “Don’t give me that,” Voldemort told Ginny, “when you know we have all eternity. Time is on our side, love,” he sounded agitated. “Now answer me.”

Ginny then responded just as agitated. “If I have been acting strangely it’s only because you have. I haven’t been breaking my links with you, you have. Almost as if were a child still learning and can’t keep the connection.” Ginny then said softly, “And I think you know why?”

“No!” he yelled, making the silent Angelina jump within Percy’s hold. “I am the one in control.”

“Yes, love, I know.” She took a few tender steps towards him. “But there have been moments. . .” she lowered her voice for only him to hear, “when it’s the other, I know I’m looking at. And he shows himself more frequently than before.” She shook her head. “And Tom he is not pleased with me.” She then looked around the room. “But this is something we should discuss later, in private.”

He looked at her for a moment more before shaking his head and saying. “Of course.”

Ginny then reached out and took a hold of Voldemort’s arm. “Come,” satisfied with his answer, her concern look faded and was once again replaced with her doll-like smile, “I will prove to you how fun I can be.” She turned in the direction of Draco, her hands at her sides started to be surrounded by a yellow glowing light.

“Stop her,” Angelina whispered in a panic to Percy as Ginny slowly walked towards Draco.

“What would you have me do?” Percy asked with a sparkle in his eye that Angelina couldn’t see. At his words, Angelina started to lift her hand ready to grab Percy’s wand, determined to stop Ginny herself when. . .

“STOP!” came the roaring voice from in front of Percy and Angelina. Voldemort had a distressful look on his face as the bottom of his palms pressed up tightly against his temples.

Ginny hands went back to normal as she turned back to Voldemort. “Tom!” She rushed back over to him as he fell on his knees screaming in pain. “Tom, fight it!” she yelled at him. “Fight him!” Ginny dropped to her knees too as she put her arms around him tightly as his body convulse violently.

Angelina pulled away from Percy’s arms and ran over to Draco, who was starting to sit up as he watched in disbelief at the scene before him. Then as suddenly as it began it stopped, both Ginny and Voldemort were breathing heavily. “Tom?” she said gently as she stroked his disheveled black hair. “It’s okay, love. It’s okay.”

“Why didn’t you just let me die?” came the words, but they were not Voldemort’s.

With wide eyes Ginny jumped to her feet as if acid had been poured before them. “Harry!”

During the last of the Final Battle Harry Potter was not killed as everyone had come to believe when the side of Voldemort won. Before the battle began Ginny had not been pleased with the form Voldemort had taken during her third year. His pale gray scale like skin and his burning red eyes, literally made Ginny sick to her stomach, but she refused to tell him. Thinking if she did voice her concern, that he would become angry at her and think that she didn’t actually love him.

When Voldemort did learn that his current state made his future queen uneasy, he asked what would please her. She told him that she wished he looked the way he used to when he was sixteen years old. She wanted him to look like the Tom Riddle she met back during her first year at Hogwarts through the diary. He told her that was impossible, but if she was disappointed, she didn’t show it.

When the battle was over, Voldemort took over the castle that he now occupied and bought with him an unconscious and dying Harry Potter. When he had everything to his liking, he sent word to Ginny and told her to prepare for the day she had been longing for, the day to permanently be by his side.

She was bought to him mere moments after giving the order to have George, her own brother killed. An order she would regret for the rest of her life and swore she would never make again. Moon, the Death Eater who had took her to the castle, left her within her new bedchamber. After he left she broke down, sobbing loudly with her face in her hands. A moment later she felt arms around her and she rested her fragile form within its comforts. It was only a moment later that she realized that this hold around her was foreign to her.

She pulled away slightly and immediately her hazel eyes locked with a pair of green one. She was bit surprised at first until the person spoke. “So tell me, love, will this form do?” Ginny then gave him a pure, genuine smile as she nodded her head.

Later on that day, they preformed The Ritual of Solum, which was the act of binding their souls, but something went wrong, because it was not two souls, but three. Harry’s soul had not complete left his body and because of his weaken state during the battle, Voldemort became the dominant personality.

It was only recently though, that strange things started to happen to Voldemort. There were moments he couldn’t recall and times he couldn’t control what he was doing. At first he thought he was starting to go crazy because of T.A.S, but somehow he knew it was more. In the dead of night, while he tried to sleep in his bed, he could feel the battle going on within him and it was in that moment he realized, that the Final Battle had never truly ended, but still raged on a battleground only known to two.

“You!” Harry growled at Ginny as he got to his feet, completely ignoring everyone else in the room. “You just couldn’t let me have my peace, could you?” Harry had once been so close to death that he could taste it. It was a relief he had secretly longed for. To escape the hand that the universe had dealt him; to not have people rely on him, to not see him as their only hope in a dying world.

He had been fighting for so long; fighting for the love of the only family he knew, fighting for his life year after year since he learned he was a wizard, fighting for the friends he desperately tired to keep so close, but no matter how close he pulled them, he still felt so alone, and then one day, after fighting for so long and so hard, he just broke.

He broke during the most crucial moment, during the day that would be the last day of the Final Battle. All of sudden something within Harry snapped and he asked himself, Why? Because he had no one to live for. The only people who had ever truly loved him, were gone. Sure there were Ron and Hermione, but they had each other. And though Harry was in his own relationship, if you could call it that, it was with someone he knew he could never have in the long run.

So making his decision, Harry lowered his wand and walked in the direction of Voldemort, who was coming towards him, and as they came into full view of each other, Harry purposely dropped his wand, his face read of defeat. Because in the end, he had just given up, he just couldn’t live this life anymore.

But his peace was short lived after being attacked by Voldemort, because as his soul was leaving his body and a feeling of warmth surround him in the darkness, everything all of sudden went a blinding white. Harry could hear the words of an ancient chant as he was pulled back into his body, but his soul was no longer alone within it.

It had taken him years, to climb out of the whiteness, to climb back into the dominant soul within the body, but each time it was short lived. But now he had been able to do it more often, for longer periods of time. At first it didn’t seem that Voldemort had notice, but soon he had learned and started trying to hold Harry at bay. Ginny had immediately noticed the change and what Harry wanted.

Harry wanted to let go of this world and he knew the only way to do it was to kill Ginny, which would in turn, kill him and Voldemort. And so Harry lunged at her, bring her down to the cold, hard floor, trying to chock the life out of her.

“Ginny!” Percy yelled as Harry attacked his sister. His instant reaction was to grab Harry and pull him off his sister. Draco made the action to jump in and help, but Angelina forcefully held him down with her on the floor.

When Percy couldn’t pull Harry off of Ginny, he frantically reached back for his wand and pointed it towards Harry. “Crucio!” he yelled out and the curse struck Harry in the back. Harry fell over and once again started shaking wildly as he screamed, but he was not the only one screaming, for the pain was so intense that Ginny felt it to.

Percy pulled his wand away as he realized what he was doing to his sister. After a moment Harry got to his feet, easily healing from the benefits of T.A.S. He was able to grab Percy’s wand before Percy could blink. Percy’s own wand was now an inch from his chest as it was being held firmly in Harry’s hand.

Harry’s angry face grew sad as he spoke. “I just wanted peace,” he began. “And I’ll kill anyone I have to got get it,” he told him. Percy was in a state of frozen fear as his blood ran cold as we watched Harry’s mouth slowly start to say the killing curse. “Avada Ke-” All of sudden Harry gasped loudly and his head went back as he did, dropping Percy’s wand.

“I- I will not watch, another one of my brothers die,” came the shaky voice of Ginny as she held Draco’s missing dagger within her small hands. Blood then began to spurt out of Harry’s wound, Ginny had pierced his heart from behind. The blood sprayed all over Ginny’s pale freckled face as she cried. Harry, with the dagger still sticking out of his back, crumbled to the floor. Ginny looked up as tears mixed with blood ran down her face. “Are you okay?” she asked Percy.

“Yes,” he whispered, the look of shock still very well on his face.

He then saw Ginny smile, not the doll like smile she had grown to adopt, but the smile she used to give him when she was a little girl. Percy looked at her and saw the little girl he once knew, the sister he once loved, the Ginny he remembered. Then suddenly both of Ginny’s hands came up to her chest and she then took a pained breath as she fell to her knees. “Ginny!” Percy yelled as he went to his sister and took her in his arms. “Ginny,” he said softly, for he knew he was losing his baby sister all over again.

“Percy?” she said weakly and he looked at her. “Tell mum, ‘I’m sorry’,” they were the last words she would ever say as she died a moment later in the comfort of her brother’s arms.

“I will, sister, ” Percy spoke to her lifeless body as he held her closer and rocked her in his arms. “I will.”

A tear ran down Angelina’s face as she witness what had just happen in front of her. “Are you okay Tulip?” Draco asked her softly.

“No,” She told him and he took her in his arms and once again happily thanked no one in particular as he realized it was over.

About an hour later, word came from Lawson about how the status of the battle outside was going. When the word spread about the death of the Dark Lord and his Queen it was easy for Draco’s side to claim victory.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Two months later, after sorting out and grieving the dead, Draco had claimed the magnificent castle for his own. Angelina hated the idea of living in the place where they were once imprison, but after a few clever redecorating ideas, one would swear it was a completely different place. The once cold and dank castle was now filled with warm and inviting colors.

Draco finally had his thrown, but much to his own surprise, he did not follow in the steps of Voldemort as he always thought he would. But he told himself, there was no reason for people to fear him, not when he had love. The kind of love that kept him calm, the kind of love that made him human.

Angelina and Draco were walking hand in hand, swing them wildly back and forth, in their formal wear as they walked down the hall of their new home towards the ballroom, behind the huge wooden doors, to celebrate their long overdue victory.

All of a sudden Draco stopped before they reached the doors, making Angelina too come to an abrupt stop. She turned to Draco. “My Lord,” she smiled as she asked, “what’s the matter?” There was an intense look in Draco’s eyes that worried his wife. Her smile soon faded and she took her husband’s face with her free hand. “Draco?” she said softly.

“There’s something I’ve been putting off for a long time,” he began slowly and sadly. “Something I''ve had plenty of opportunity to say, but never have.” He went silent as his eyes became distant and he looked towards the floor.

“Draco, what have you not told me?” Angelina’s heart began to beat rapidly, not knowing, after everything, if she would be able to handle was Draco was about to tell her.

“Angelina. . .” he whispered.

“Yes?” she responded.

“Tulip. . .” he was barely audible.

“Draco, what is it?” She was starting to get scared.

Draco then looked back up into her brown eyes. He then lifted her hand he was holding and placed it over his chest, above his heart and said gently, for the first time. “I love you.” A smile slowly spread across Angelina’s face and she did the last thing Draco thought she would ever do, she laughed at him. “What?” he said a bit angrily.

Angelina’s laugh lighten into a giggle. “Oh, Draco really,” she shook her head, “there’s no need in stating the obvious.”

Draco smiled at her words. “Woman, just shut up and kiss me,” he told her as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer as she happily complied. After a moment they broke the kiss. “So what do you think about skipping the celebration and going to have a private one of our own?” He suggested as he waggled his eyebrows.

“Oh, Draco, you’re terrible,” she said as she rolled her eyes and she pulled away taking his hand and leading him down the hall. “Besides, we have a very important announcement to make tonight. And you been bugging me about it for days, so we’re going to make it.”

“Well, okay, I guess you’re right,” he gave in easily, but then stopped again, after a moment, and gently yanked Angelina back towards him. She gasped a bit loudly in surprise. “But no drinking tonight, you understand?” he said all joking aside.

“Do you think I’m a fool, Draco?” she asked a bit angry, still not believing Draco thought she had drinking problem as she put her hand on her stomach. “You know I wouldn’t do anything to harm our child.”

“No, not child,” he shook his head as he placed his hand on top of hers and corrected her. “Son. That’s Damien Uriah Malfoy you’re carrying. That’s my boy,” he said proudly. “My heir.”

“Uh-huh,” she said unaffected. “That’s what you said about the last one,” she teased.

“Well, if we have another girl, we can always try again.” He smiled. “I have no problem with that.”

Angelina shook her head. “You’re impossible. How many children do you want to have?”

“Hmm,” he pretended to think it over. “We’ll stop when you start getting fat.” She smacked him across the arm. “Ow!”

“You’re a moron!” she spat lovingly.

“Yet, you still love me. It’s incredible really.”

“Yeah, that’s what you think,” she said as she started walking down the hall again, leaving Draco where he stood.

“Alright,” he said taking a harsh tone. “You know I don’t like it when you joke like that.”

“I’m sorry,” she said sincerely, turning around, walking backwards as a smile came to her face. “I forget how sensitive you are.”

Draco cocked an eyebrow. “Sensitive?” He ran over to her and picked her up in his arms and spun her around. “You drive me mad woman,” he said looking up at her. “But by Merlin, I love you.”

“I love you too, Draco,” she said as he gently put her down.

“Always?” he asked.

“Till the end of time,” she said as she kissed his lips tenderly. “Now come on, we have a victory to celebrate.”

And so the couple walked through the huge wooden doors and were announced as Lord and Lady Malfoy as they walked down the stairs. At the bottom they greeted a few people and then made their to way to the head table to sit with a few distinguish people, such as Crabbe and his fiancée, Faith Himsworth.

“Faith,” Angelina said indifferently.

“Angelina,” Faith said in the same tone. The two women still didn’t like each other much, but they figure they had to at least pretend to tolerate the other.

“Oi,” Crabbe said as he dropped his head. He then looked back up at Draco. “We’ll catch up later okay, Dray?” Draco nodded his head and Crabbe lead Faith to the dance floor as he jokingly stated, “I can’t take you anywhere.” Faith lovingly smiled at him as she took his arm and he kissed her forehead.

“I’ll admit I don’t like her,” Angelina began. “But she’s good for him.”

“Yes, that’s all good and well,” Draco told her, “but I rather be talking about something else.”

“Oh,” she looked to him curiously, “like what?”

“Like what it’s going to take to get you out on that dance floor?”

She shook her head. “Nothing much, just tell me you love me.”

“Now?” he asked seriously.

Angelina then realized that saying it in public, where he could be heard, was completely different than saying it in private. “No, not now, but later.”

“Then you’ve got yourself a deal.” And the couple headed towards the dance floor, where they swayed to the music of the instruments playing on their own accord. The ballroom was lit with a warm glowing light; there was a cool breeze sweeping in from the opened stained-glass doors, and the night sky was so clear and crisp that you could make out every star in the sky.

The night passed by as Draco knew it would; the dinner was superb, the music enchanting, and his wife a vision of loveliness as they announced the coming of their second child.

It was down to the last hour of the celebration and Angelina and Draco were back on the dance floor entangled in each other’s arm. “Mind if I cut in?” Draco felt a tap on his shoulder and turned his head to see Percy.

Draco smiled at him, he had grown to tolerate Percy since the downfall of the Dark Lord. “Only if Tulip doesn’t mind.” He turned to her to get her response.

“I’d be happy to dance with you, Percival,” she told him as she put her hand to her stomach and then said to Draco. “You should go look for Vincent. You haven’t spoken to him since we greeted him earlier.”

“You’re right,” he said as he released her.

“Love you,” Angelina told him and she kissed him on the cheek. Draco noticed the look in her eyes that half hope that he would say it in return, but they both knew he wouldn''t and so she turned back to Percy before Draco went to go look for Crabbe.

Before Draco reached Crabbe he looked over his shoulder and saw Percy and Angelina discussing something quite intensely as they danced with Angelina shaking her head back and forth. Draco found Crabbe back at the head table sitting as he was eating a slice of cake. “Where’s Faith?” he asked him as he sat down.

“She just left for the ladies’ room,” he informed him and then said as he put down his fork and turned towards Draco. “Congratulation,” he told him with a huge smile on his face. “It appears that are children will be growing up together.”

Draco smiled at his friend. “You and Faith are expecting? How come you didn’t tell me sooner?”

“I only just found out myself.” Crabbe leaned back in seat and sighed contently. “We have all gone through so much, it’s nice to have things going in our direction for once.” He then said sadly, “Even if it is without Greg.” The two then took a silent moment as they remembered a friend who would always be with them in sprit.

“Vincent?” Faith called as she approached and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Is everything alright?”

Crabbe tilted his head back and looked up at her as he rested his hand on top of hers. “Now that you’re back love, everything’s fine.” He smiled and Faith smiled too.

She then looked up from Crabbe and had an expression on her face as if just now noticing Draco’s presence. She smiled at him. “Has Angelina retired for the night?”

“No, not at all. She’s still on the floor with-” he cut himself off as he looked over the dance floor. His forehead creased as he had a hard time picking her out among the people. He thought it should have been easy since she was dancing with someone who had hair that was noticeable where ever he went.

He then stood up casually, but his eyes frantically searched the ballroom. Angelina was no where to be seen and neither was Percy. Even the most trusted ally, may take an ominous form. “No,” Draco whispered to himself.

“Dray, what is it?” Crabbe asked as he saw the expression on his friend’s face.

“I don’t see Angelina,” he told him.

“Well then, she probably just sitting on the other side or headed towards the lady’s room,” Crabbe rationalized.

“No, I don’t think so. I would have seen her on my way back,” Faith commented.

“I’ll be back.” Draco walked around the table and walked across the dance floor to the other side of the room, hoping to find Angelina sitting down. He scanned the area once again, but still saw no trace of her or Percy.

“Crabbe!” He practically shouted once he stood before him. “Around up Lough and Lawson and few others. I want my wife found, tonight,” he ordered.

Crabbe got to his feet as he realized this situation had turned serious. “Of course.” He then turned to Faith. “I’ll meet you at home,” he told her and she nodded her head before picking up her purse and heading out.

As Crabbe did as he was told, something flashed into Draco’s mind and to Crabbe surprise, he saw Draco break into a run and go up the stairs skipping two at a time. Draco ran out of the ballroom and down the hall. He then traveled up another set of stairs before busting into an unlock room. The candles gradually started to light as Draco slowly approached Rosalina’s crib holding his breath.

As he stood before the crib he lowered his head and silently let out the breath he was holding. His daughter was still fast asleep. Draco then picked up his sleeping child and held her tight, so tightly that Rosalina woke up and started crying, upset at being disturbed.

It took Draco over half an hour before he was able to settle Rosalina back down. During that time, he heard several footsteps outside the door. He knew someone peeked their head in, but said nothing when they saw Draco with his daughter.

After Rosalina fell back to sleep, Draco lowered her back into her crib. He then went to the windows and locked them. He also locked the door before he left and made his way back to the ballroom, to get a status report from Crabbe.

When Draco arrived back at the ballroom. It was almost bare except for those who stayed to look for Angelina. He then saw Crabbe approach him. “Draco,” he said slowly. “We should go back out into the hall.”

Draco just looked at him. “Why?” But Crabbe said nothing as he had Draco follow him back up the stairs into the long hallway outside the ballroom. “Vincent, what did you find?” he asked as the two of them were now alone.

“We were able to search the entire castle. I also had the grounds outside of them searched as well.” Crabbe then pursed his lips together.

“Vincent, what is it?” he asked solemnly and it was the first time, in all the years Crabbe had known Draco, that he saw fear in his eyes.

“This is all that was found.” Something very familiar appeared on the side of Crabbe. Draco took the floating object within his hands. It was Angelina’s holster, she had worn it everyday, even tonight, since she had received it from Lucius, who was still recovering for his wounds. Draco put his hand around the handle of the light blade. “Draco, don’t,” Crabbe warned.

But Draco didn’t listen as he pulled out the blade and let the holster fall to the floor. He didn’t drop it on purpose, but out of surprise, as the blade, Angelina had yet to use, was covered in blood.

Draco felt light headed, for the first time in over a month. He turned away from Crabbe as he braced his hand on the nearby wall and clung the dagger close to his chest and lowered his head. There then came the sound of shattering glass. Crabbe noticeably jumped at the sound. He turned away for Draco and headed towards the sound which came from behind the huge wooden doors.

The doors opened and Crabbe was immediately hit with gust of strong wind. The once beautiful night sky had grown ugly as the winds picked up and dark rain clouds filled the sky. Lighting struck and hit a tree and it was set on fire.

Crabbe then heard the most horrifying, heart wrenching sound he had ever heard. It sounded like some wounded animal fighting for its life. He then turned around when he realized it was no animal, but Draco as he slowly slid to his knees, crying so loudly, Crabbe would have sworn it could be heard for miles around.

“ANGELINA!” Uncontrollable tears ran down Draco’s face as he felt his whole body ache as he screamed her name. It was as if someone had reached inside of his chest and wrapped their fingers around his still beating heart and ripped it out with no mercy. For she was his heart and she was now gone; he could feel it in the air he breathed, he could feel it in the tears he shed, he could feel it in the depths of his soul which were once complete.

How could he go back? He wondered. How could he go back to a life in the cold? How could he go back to being the mirror image of his father? How could he go back to a life without her love? But he knew he had to, at least for his daughter’s sake.

Draco told himself once he stood up, that would be it, he would not let her or the child they would of had plague his thoughts. If he was ever going to get through this, he had to put it out of his mind, because he knew if he didn’t. . . he didn’t want to think about what he would do.

If there was anything that Angelina was never able to get through it was Draco’s pride. He refused to let anyone know how much his wife’s sudden and strange disappearance hurt him. And so he slowly began to rise back to his feet, but he stopped midway through and opened his mouth to let out a silent cry as he fell back to his knees. How could he. . . how could he go back?

Draco still had his back to Crabbe as he cautiously drew near him. “Draco?” he said as he saw Draco gradually start to rise again. “Are you going to be alright?”

Draco then slowly turned towards Crabbe. His face was surprisingly dry and inexpressive. “Of course, I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked calmly. Crabbe shivered at the unrecognizable dark empty eyes that looked through him. “Now if you’ll excuse me. I must make sure that the house elves know of the mess in the ballroom. And please inform the others that their presence is no longer required.” He turned on his heels and as he walked down the hall the lit troches extinguished themselves, covering Draco in darkness. Crabbe watched as his friend disappeared down the hall and sighed heavily as he realized that not one, but two souls died this night.
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Their arranged marriage was a tug-of-war: a war-of-wits, a war-of-pride, a war-of-dominance. But if both ever succumb to each other, will either survive the other’s trials or the real war brewing around them?

Sadly, no.

 
Chapter Twenty-five: In the Beginning

Funny, the words you remember.

Funny, the conversations that haunt you.

“You want to leave me? Fine. But don’t you come crawling back when you realize you need me.”

Need. If anyone needed anyone, it was he who had needed her. He had needed her to be there. He had needed her to be his warmth from the cold, but most of all, he just needed her to love him.

"Need you? Don’t you get it Draco? I never needed or loved you."

And she didn''t needed him, Draco always knew that, because she was a strong independent woman. One who could easily survive without him, but the other way around, had been more then unbearable.

"Because who could ever love a controlling, possessive, cold-hearted, sadistic murderer, void of any real emotions?”

She had been right about him, he was all those things. It was true then and it was true now, even eight years, eight long years after the fact. But she had been wrong about him being void of any real emotions, because when it came to her, he could almost drown in it. Because for some reason, she was the first who could make feel, truly and really feel, he knew it the moment he realized her words had cut him to the core and she could see it.

“Draco, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

But he knew she had, the tone of her voice had given her away. But he gave into her lies because of his need for her. But had they all been lies? Every loving glance? Every sweet word? Every tender kiss?

By Merlin, Draco didn''t want to believe it so, but then came the news that the blood that covered the dagger the night Angelina ''disappeared'' was not her own, but Percy''s. But if she was not the one wounded, why had she not returned to him. Maybe she couldn''t, but then again. . .

“I’m taking you up on your offer. Like I should have done the first time.”

. . . maybe she just didn''t want to.

"Tell me Vincent, if she did leave me, do you think she returned to him. Weasley I mean, Fred?"

"No," Crabbe simply stated.

"Why not? I know she loved him," Draco said sadly. "More than me anyway."

Crabbe turned to his friend. He was the only one left privileged enough to see the real Draco. The sad, lonely, broken Draco, who had become a hollow man of his former self. Yet he met everyone else with a cold, hard, and sharp tongue demeanor, as if nothing effected him, as if nothing had changed. "No, I was with her the last time she saw Weasley. She loved you, that I know for sure. Besides, how can you return to a dead man?" Draco only looked at him curiously. "Weasley was the first to attack us when we were heading towards the east wing," Crabbe explained as he remembered how Draco’s vision was that day.

"Then why would she leave me?" Draco asked himself as he stepped out onto the balcony outside of his study. "Why would she leave Rosalina?" They were questions he seem to ask himself everyday. He shook his head. "She wouldn''t. Not on her own accord," He answered himself. "She promised she would never leave me. She promised."

"Draco, I don’t want to leave you, but I will if it means you’ll live. I need you to live.”

Had he been in some kind of danger? Some danger he didn''t know about? Some danger he was still in? That had to have been it; there was no other reason for her to leave him.

Because no matter how much Draco tired to convince himself that her I love you''s were lies, he knew they weren''t. Because there was no way, she could look at him the way she used to and not love him. So Draco knew she didn''t come back because she was trying to protect him somehow, but from what or from whom he didn''t know.

"Father?" Draco was pulled from his thoughts as his daughter''s voice reached his ears. He was memorized by the setting sun he was watching from his balcony. This was always Angelina''s favorite time of day, as he recalled how she use to stand by the patio door and watch the sunset on the estate of the Manor.

"Yes, child?" His voice was deadpan as his back was still to her. "What is it that you need?"

"Only to wish you a happy birthday, father," Rosalina told him. Draco then slowly turned around and looked upon his daughter. She was a beautiful little girl, of nine years old, with big bright eyes and fair brown skin. Her hair was in a wild, but presentable, array of curls. It was usually kept in a loose afro with a headband that matched her outfit, to keep her hair out of her face. She was dressed in the finest clothes, with elaborate embroidered designs and jewels from the heart of South Africa.

She was starting to look so much like her mother that it actually pained Draco whenever he had to look at her. “Come in, Rosalina,” he told her for he knew she was standing by the doorway waiting for permission to enter the study. Draco walked back over to his desk and sat down; there were a few important documents he had to get through before the end of the day. “Well?” he asked as Rosalina stood before his desk, but said nothing. It was then that Draco noticed the box she was carrying.

Rosalina was looking down at it as if she was debating something over in her head. Draco smiled inwardly; it was one of the few moments where she actually looked like him. “I have a present for you,” her voice was almost frightened. Draco forehead furrowed at the sound of her shaky voice.

Rosalina stood there with her hands close to her chest as she held the rectangle box she had wrapped herself. Finally she tilted her head up and just looked at her father. Her father was a King, a good King at that, most would even considered him a God because he was the most powerful of their kind. But being a good King didn’t automatically mean he was good father. He was always busy and barely ever at home, leaving her in the hands of her Godfather, or a caretaker, or even a tutor on a few accounts.

But he tried, that she knew, but for some reason, for the longest time, she got the eerie feeling that he didn’t like having her around. Like there was something about her that bothered him, but she knew better now. “Here,” she said as she put the box on the table.

Draco took the box curiously and unwrapped it so gracefully that he didn’t even tear the paper. As he opened the box and saw what was inside a frown marked his lips and his forehead creased once again. He turned to Rosalina and asked angrily. “Where did you get these?”

Frightened by her father’s reaction, she took a stepped back. Rosalina had only been spanked once by her father, for disobeying him, and although she didn’t mean to, it was still an experience she didn’t want to repeat anytime soon. Though on that day she did learn something very valuable.

She had been seven years old and her father had actually taken her with him on one of his business trips. They had entered a banquet hall, which had a handful of people, and as they did Draco took her small hand. As they walked through he spoke without looking at her. “You are to be on your best behavior, which means seen and not heard. Understood?”

“Yes, father,” she replied half paying attention as she took in her surroundings.

“Sit here.” He escorted her to a table and sat her down. “Stay where I can see you.” She nodded before he walked off saying something that that sounded a lot like. “Filthy Muggles. Damn Treaty.”

Rosalina sat quietly with her hands folded in her lap as she watched her father discuss terms of a Treaty. She had recognized a few people, like Lough and Lawson, but the rest of the people where strangers to her.

She jumped when she heard her father’s voice boom at a word she had never heard before. She arched an eyebrow as she wondered what the word Mutant meant and why it had upset her father, who was trying to explain the difference between what they were, witches and wizards and this term mutant.

“Hello, little girl,” said a man as he sat down next to Rosalina. Rosalina looked at him and politely nodded. “What’s your name?” he asked with a smile.

“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers,” she informed him.

“Well then, I must say that’s a very wise choice,” he told her. “So how about I introduce myself then?” he asked. “My name is Percy.”

Rosalina glanced up to look at her father to ask for guidance, but he was still vividly auguring with a Muggle, so she looked back at the stranger. “I’m Rosalina, daughter of Lord Malfoy,” she said proudly.

Percy laughed lightly. “Yes, I know.” His blue eyes sparkled as he sighed. “I can’t believe how much you look like your mother.”

“My mother?” Rosalina’s full attention was now on the man who sat beside her. “What do you know of my mother?” she asked with hopeful eyes. She had asked Draco once before how come she didn’t have a mother like other children, but he said nothing as he retreated into himself. He then sent her to spend the week with her Godfather Crabbe, so she never bought it up again.

“I know a lot about your mother.” Percy looked up at Draco to make sure he was still well distracted, but even if he did glance over by chance from his argument, the odds of him recognizing him were small. Percy had gotten rid of his trademark Weasley hair, it was now a dark rich shade of brown. He also no longer wore glasses and his face which had barely ever donned a smile when he was younger, now always carried one. His skin was also a nice golden brown from spending a lot to time in the sun. “Probably more than your dear father will ever know.”

“Tell me about her,” Rosalina demanded. “All I know is what my Godfather would tell me.”

“And what was that?” he asked.

“That she died,” she stated sadly. “In the last war.” She looked back up at her father. “I think it’s why he pushes so hard for peace.”

“Tell me Rosalina, what would you say, if I told you your mother wasn’t dead? And that you could see her?”

She turned to him suspiciously and said angrily. “I want you to go away. Now.”

Percy smiled. “Yes, you are definitely your father’s child.” When Rosalina realized the stranger wasn’t going to leave, she got up to move to a table occupied with other people who were watching the negotiation. So she was unaware of the wand secretly pointed in her direction. “Imperio.” Rosalina froze where she stood and turned back to Percy. “Take my hand,” he told her as he stood up and then started to walk her out of the banquet hall.

Rosalina knew what she was doing was wrong, she wasn’t supposed to go with strangers, but she couldn’t stop herself as she did what she was told. She wanted to scream, she wanted to fight, but found she could do nothing, but obey the stranger.

They were almost out the door when Draco finally calmed down to re-discuss the terms of the Treaty. By chance he glanced at the table were he had sat down Rosalina, only to find it empty. He then noticed the banquet room door being opened and saw the strange man who was holding his daughter’s hand and leading her away.

Draco’s heart jumped into his throat at the sight and thinking only that he had to get to his daughter, he leapt over table and sprinted clear across the room. He grabbed her roughly, picking her up in his arms. With Rosalina securely in his grasp, he looked up to the man who had tried to kidnap his daughter, but he Apparated before he could get a good look.

Draco’s blood boiled as he set Rosalina back on the floor and stayed squatted before her with one hand on each arm. “What the hell were you doing?” he asked in a harsh whisper. Rosalina only blinked rapidly and shook her head. “What did I tell you?” he said through clenched teeth. “Didn’t I tell you to stay put?” Rosalina said nothing and he shook her a little. “Huh?”

“Yes,” she said in a tiny voice almost on the verge of tears.

Draco rose quickly as Lough came up by his side. “My Lord is everything alright?”

“That is none of your concern,” Draco spat before saying calmly. “Now I must tend to my daughter, I pray you and Lawson can handle the rest of the negotiations.” Before Lough could even respond Draco had Apparated with Rosalina.

A moment later they were back at home and Draco had a belt in hands. He told her to turn around and she wordlessly complied. She had been spanked before, but it usually came from a certain caregiver, so she was completely unprepared for her father’s strength as she felt the hot sting of the belt on her backside. And if that wasn’t enough, Draco yelled at her loudly as he whipped her. He had struck her ten times before he let the belt fall lazily from his hand as it turned red and throb from holding the belt so tightly.

Rosalina, with her back still to him, shook uncontrollably in her pain. She wanted to show her father that she was strong and that she would not cry out, so she blinked back her tears as she felt her father rest on his knees before turning her around.

Her eyes widened as she saw tears in her father’s eyes and watched them run down his face. “Don’t you ever-” his voice broke, “ever do anything like that again. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, father,” she continued to shake.

“No, you don’t!” he yelled. “I can’t lose you like I lost her and I won’t,” he told her as he pulled her tightly into his arms. “Do you know how badly you scared me today?” Draco asked. “What if I hadn’t gotten to you in time? You don’t know what he would have done to you.”

“Would you even care?” she softly asked, still holding her tears at bay.

“What?” He slightly pushed her away and looked into his daughter’s gray eyes. “My Little Rose, don’t you know how much I love you?”

Rosalina looked back and forth into his eyes. “You- you love me?” she asked. Rosalina had known what love was, she saw it all the time when she went to visit her Godfather Crabbe and his family. They always looked so happy that it made Rosalina sick with jealously. Crabbe was always smiling and always playful with his wife Faith and their sons, Greg and Jacob. Sometime Rosalina wished that her father was more like Crabbe instead of always so distant.

“Yes,” he stated firmly. “Of course I do. More than you’ll ever know.” He wiped away the tears that finally raced down her cheeks.

Rosalina threw her arms around him. “I love you too, father.” It was the first time they had ever said those words to each other and they would most likely be the last, because there was no reason in stating something that was already known. Her father loved her and that was all she ever really wanted to know.

But right now, as his eyes bore into her, she wasn’t quite feeling that love. “Answer me Rosalina. Where did you get these?” Draco asked again. “And do not lie.”

Rosalina didn’t know why she was so surprised by his actions. She knew she had disobeyed him and that she would have to answer for it. “I found them in that locked room on the fourth floor. The one you told me never to go into.”

“Alright,” he said calmly. “Now tell me why you violated my rules?”

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. Something had told her to enter the room; something had pulled her to a certain spot and told her to do this. It was almost like that time with that strange man she had met. She didn’t tell her father about the voice that had been in her head. Now then and not now, because she was sure he would have thought her crazy.

Rosalina then watched Draco sigh as he pulled out a packet of photos, that for him seemed like they were taken a lifetime ago. A soft smile then appeared on his face as he flipped through them.

Rosalina continued to look at him curiously. His face looked very foreign to her, because it was rare that he had allowed her to see him smile. She then stepped closer and leaned on his chair and looked on as he continued through the photos. She recognized herself, there were plenty of portraits of her around the castle. But the woman in the matching dress, she couldn’t quite place. “Was she one of my caretakers?” Draco stopped immediately at the question and looked at his daughter. “I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?” she asked as she back away.

“No, of course not,” Draco said with a gentleness that was also foreign to her. “Come here.” He pulled her into his lap and then showed her a photo. “This is-” he stopped; it had been years since he had said her name. “This is Angelina, your mother.”

“My mother?” Rosalina cautiously took the photo into her small hands and stared at it intensely. The stranger had been right; she did look a lot like her. Maybe he wasn’t lying; maybe her mother was still out there somewhere.

“Yes,” he nodded as he answered her question.

“What happened to her?” Rosalina asked carefully, hopping this time to get the story from her father and not her Godfather.

“She died, when you were just a baby,” he told her slowly, it was a fact he wasn’t really sure of himself, but he felt ashamed that he never allowed his own child to be able to recognize her own mother. “Know that she was strong, loving, and very devoted to both of us.”

Rosalina looked at her father’s sorrow felt face, there was so much emotion in him as he looked upon the photo still in her hands. Her father wouldn’t lie to her, Rosalina concluded, so if he said she was dead then it had to be true. The stranger was a liar. “Do you miss her?” she asked.

“Like the desert misses the rain,” he answered her sadly and held her closer. “But she left me with a precious child. One who looks more like her with every passing year.” He smiled at her.

“Father.” Rosalina reached for the box that was still on the table. “Don’t forget the other gift. Draco reached back into the box and pulled out a book. “I couldn’t open it,” she told him. “But something told me it was important.” She accidentally let slip.

“It is.” Draco smiled before whispering a small chant. “Here, now try.” He handed it to Rosalina.

She opened the book warily and looked confused as she saw the book wasn’t really a book, but a box disguised to look like one. “I don’t understand.” She looked at her father. “Why would you keep sand?”

“Have you been practicing your Summoning charm?” he asked as he laid the book on the desk.

She nodded her head with delight. “Yes.”

“Then how about a demonstration?” From what Draco had learned from Rosalina’s tutors she was very gifted with wandless magic and he doubted if she would even need a wand when she began school. “Go on now,” he urged her. “It’s only one object.”

And so she rolled up her sleeve and stretched out her hand towards the book. She had a serious look on her face, determined to please and impress her father. “Accio!” she said strongly and a delicate soft object flew into her hand. “It’s a yellow flower,” she said as she shook the remaining sand off of it. “I still don’t understand.”

Draco took the flower from his daughter’s hand. “It’s a tulip,” he explained as he put it to her nose to smell. “It was the first gift your mother ever gave to me. I put a charm on it to preserve it to. . . well,” he shrugged, “to the end of time, I guess.”

“Tell me about it.” She smiled excitedly.

“About the charm?”

“No, about when she gave it to you. I want to know what my mother was like,” Rosalina said eagerly, hoping to learn as much as she could before he closed back up on her or realized that he had to get back to work.

“Of course. Where should I begin?” he pondered.

“Start at the very beginning,” she suggested.

“Alright, the very beginning then.” So Draco got comfortable and began his tale at the very beginning when he first met the girl, who would be the woman, he would love the rest of life and most likely beyond it as well.

Because Draco knew, if Angelina was alive and she came back to him today, that he would, without question, take her back with open arms. He would often ask himself, why? Because all she had ever brought him was misery or some form of it. But then again he already knew why, and that was all that truly mattered.
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It was a bright sunny day as white clouds drifted slowly across the summer sky. A little boy about eight years of age, played by himself as he tried to figure out how to use what he heard one kid call a ‘swing’. It was his first time in a park, around children who weren’t very quiet, but loud and playful in a way he had never seen before.

So the little boy, with the name of Draco, studied the swing carefully, too stubborn in his ways to ask another child how to use it. He then turned to look at his mother, but she wasn’t paying any attention to him. She was sitting on a bench reading some trashy romance novel.

So Draco figured he was on his own on this. So he figured this ‘swing’ was something you sat in, so he grabbed the chain on either side and lifted himself to sit on it. And that’s what he did, he sat. His legs dangled from his seated position because his feet didn’t quite reach the ground. “Hmm,” he pondered out loud.

“Kick your legs,” he heard a voice to his left say. He turned his head to see a girl take a sit in the other swing. “Well, go on,” she urged him, but he just stared. “Hello,” she waved her hand in front of his face. “Earth to blondie. Are you retarded or something?”

“No, I’m not retarded,” he snapped back.

“You could have fooled me,” she said. “Now kick.”

“Kick what?” he asked.

The little girl groaned. “The air, stupid.”

“Hey, stop with the name calling,” he demanded. “I’m not stupid.”

“Hey, I call them as I see them.” The little girl than began kicking her legs back and forth and she swung higher into the air. “Now come on, swing with me.” Draco tired imitating her actions, but he couldn’t quite pull it off. She was taller than him and she was able to gain momentum by using the ground. “Stop,” she told him. “Before you hurt yourself.” Her swing slowed to a stop and she got off. She stood behind him and grab each side of his swing. “I’m going to push you up and when I let go, that’s when you start swinging, okay?”

“Yes,” he confirmed before he felt her lift him up into the air and he followed her instructions. She got back on her swing and before long the two were in sync with each other as they swung back and forth. After a few minutes Draco turned his head towards her. “Want to play something else?” he asked.

The girl looked to him, baffled by his question. It wasn’t often that someone willingly wanted to play with her. “Sure,” she said happily. “Come on, there are tons of stuff we can do,” she told him as she slowed down her swing enough just to jump off of it. “Try it!” she encouraged him.

“No, I like my skull in one piece, thank you,” he told her as he let his swing stop on its own and then hopped off. “What can we do now?” he asked.

“Come on.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him all around the playground. They played on the monkey bars, the merry-go-round, the titter-tatter, and climbed a few trees before they sat down at the edge of playground in a sandbox.

Draco was making a little sandcastle with some of the toys that had been left in the sandbox, when he looked up to see what his playmate was doing. “What’s you name?” he asked as he realized he didn’t know it.

“I’m Angelina,” she told him, not looking up from her own project.

“I’m Draco,” he said proudly. “Draco Malfoy.”

Angelina looked up and smiled at him. “Thanks for playing with me.”

Draco smiled, thinking maybe he should have been the one thanking her. “What are you doing?” He pointed to what she was holding in her hands.

“This?” She held it up. “Oh nothing, just something I’m going to put on my head. You know, like a halo.”

“Oh.” He then went back to his sandcastle. “What are you making it out of?” He asked, honestly just trying to make conversation.

“Some of the flowers I saw when we were in the wood climbing trees.” She then went back to her creation as she hummed. “There,” she said once she was done and placed her homemade crown on her head. “What do you think?”

Draco looked at her and smiled wide. “You look stupid.”

“Thanks,” she said sarcastically before she walked on her knees over to him. “Here, I had one left over.” She held up a yellow flower and as she lifted her hand to gently place it behind his left ear, she accidentally brushed his cheek. Draco, not used to being touched so softly, recoiled slightly, but it went unnoticed by Angelina. “Now you’re perfect. . . just like me,” she beamed.

“Nonsense,” he lifted his hand and readjusted the flower, “my mother always tells me I’m perfect. The perfect heir.”

“That’s only because she’s your mum.” Angelina then looked around. “I bet that’s her right there.” She pointed to the blonde headed woman. “The one reading the love story. My mum reads them too.”

Draco looked to whom she was pointing towards, suppressing his urge to let her it wasn’t polite to point. “Yes, that’s my mother,” he told her. “But what’s a love story?” he asked.

Angelina looked at him strangely and explained simply. “A story, you know a book, were people are in love.”

“Yes, I know what a story is,” he said annoyed, but then asked curiously, “but what’s love?” Truly not knowing what it was. He really didn’t have an example of it at home and he had never actually heard the word before.

“You know, it’s love,” she said. Only being ten years old, she didn’t really know how to explain it. “You know, love.” She watched as Draco just shook his head. “Okay,” she drawled as she tried to think of a way to explain, not even questioning why, he didn’t know what it was. “Love it like, when you care for someone and you want to see them everyday, like your mum and dad.” Draco arched an eyebrow. He certainly didn’t see his parents everyday and days that he did see them, there wasn’t a lot of interaction between them. . . like today for instance. “Love is like, when you like someone a whole lot.”

“I like you,” Draco blurted out.

Angelina giggled. “I like you too.”

“Does that mean we’re in love?” he asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” she said as she thought hard about it. “I think for two people to love each other, who aren’t in the same family, it needs time to grow into love.” She shrugged. “I guess.”

Draco ran his fingers absentmindedly through the sand. “Then do you think with time-”

“Angelina!” Draco was interrupted as a woman was calling his playmate. “Angelina, it’s time to go home.”

Angelina stood up and dusted the sand off her clothes. “Well, I got to go. Maybe we can play next time we see each other.” She stepped out of the sandbox and started walking to the other side of the playground where her mother waited for her.

“Wait!” she heard Draco call after her. She turned around to see what he wanted. He looked a little embarrassed. “Do you think, if we had time, that you could love me?” he asked curiously.

Angelina laughed at him. “What a silly question.” Which she regretted saying right away as she saw Draco kind of sink into himself as he lowered his head. “But I guess, if we did have time, that I could.” As Draco lifted his head back up she smiled at him. She then heard her mother call for her again and so she turned to leave, but Draco took her hand, stopping her once more.

“Would it be for always?” he whispered softly as his eyes seem to plead with hers.

Angelina looked at the strange boy, who didn’t know how to use a swing, who did know what love was, and she smiled softly before saying what she always heard her mother tell her father, “Yes, it would be till the end of time.”

Draco looked at her quizzically as she let go of his hand and he watched her walk away. A second later he could hear his own mother calling his name and so he started walking towards her. As he did he pulled the flower that Angelina had given him out of his hair and tossed it to ground, but a moment later he stopped and turned around to go pick it up. He smiled softly as he brought the flower up to his nose and took in its fragrance. He then heard his mother call for him again before putting the flower back behind his ear and heeding to her call thinking to himself that he would never forget this day.

Who knew that on a faithful sunny day, that a chance meeting between two lonely children would take place, and that a little girl would plant a seed of hope into a little boy before his father could take a hold of him and turn his soul into a deserted wasteland to match his own?

Who knew that despite the little boy’s upbringing that he would believe in something, that in his family, seemed as farfetched as the fairy tales he used to read to himself? Who knew that a little boy living in a world where all he knew was hate and malice would believe in the sayings of a little girl he met so long ago? And who knew that this little girl would return to him a woman and that the seed she planted once upon a time would grow, and that a flower in the desert, would bloom through the sand?
THE END

 

 

 

 

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