Getting Personal

CHAPTER 18 Funeral for a Friend

Ginny could barely hold herself up during the memorial service for her brother. If the realization that he was gone hadn't hit her before, it had now. She sat on a long pew in the Great Hall, sandwiched between Draco and Hermione, unable to focus on a single thing that was being said. Dumbledore, her father, Charlie, and Harry all sat at the front of the room, the expressions on their faces mirroring the feelings in her heart. The memorial wasn't just for Ron. Blaise was mentioned, and Sirius as well as Cedric Diggory. "And there are others," Dumbledore was saying. "Others who we may not yet know of and others who will leave us in our mortality before this war ends."

Ginny was unnerved by the large portrait of Ron staring at them from the front of the room. It was a portrait of Ron when he had been made prefect, not all that long ago. Ginny had seen it plenty of times before, waving at her from the mantel at the Burrow, but now her brother watched quietly as his memorial went on.

Her mum shed no tears, and Ginny was surprised, until she realized that her mother had cried plenty during the summer. It was Ginny who hadn't allowed herself time to grieve, still expecting Ron to come around corners and say hello to her or at least make some snide remark about Draco. So while her family had entered the healing process, she hadn't even gotten past the denial. While everyone else had accepted what had happened, she hadn't even properly mourned her brother.

Just three days ago, Hermione had looked at her and asked, "Am I doing the wrong thing? What would Ron think about this?"

Ginny had no answer. She had walked into the common room just in time to see Harry and Hermione guiltily jump apart.

"Are you mad at me?" Hermione asked, her voice pleading.

"No. I'm not mad. I know you loved Ron," Ginny told her finally.

"I still love him. But I finally realized that he's not coming back."

It wasn't seeing Harry and Hermione hold hands when they thought no one was looking, or the empty seat in the Great Hall, or even the fact that the terrific trio was no a duo, but it was her final words that hurt the most. Ron wasn't coming back.

"I can't stay here," Ginny whispered to Draco after the memorial, after hugging people she barely knew, after the dinner feast. "I'm just going to go back to my room."

"Are you sure?" he asked, his expression troubled.

"I just want to be . . . I can't be in here."

"Let's go to my room. You can be alone in there."

Ginny shook her head. Draco's room meant that they would inevitably fall into the bed, not speaking, but just trying to forget by having the roughest sex possible. The sex they had in his room always left her sore and bruised, but she preferred it that way. When she and Draco were fiercely pounding each other into the mattress or desk or floor, she didn't remember the war or the deaths or her exams or anything else.

If Draco understood her refusal, he didn't let on. "Come on," he muttered. "I know somewhere we can go."

In the noise and commotion of the Great Hall, they managed to slip out unnoticed. Ginny followed Draco out of the castle, off the grounds, and onto the path that led into Hogsmead.

"We'll be fine," Draco reassured her, squeezing her gloved hand inside his own. "I doubt anyone will notice we're gone, and if they do, they'll probably think you're in my room, getting shagged senseless."

She pretended to be offended and swung her free hand to hit him lightly on the arm, but a small smile reached her lips. "Where are we going then?"

"Just a place I know," he told her, his sexy smile covering his lips. "So that you won't have to worry about all this."

Ginny stopped mid-stride and stared at him. "Do you think that's what's wrong with me?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, tugging her along.

"That I haven't thought about Ron enough? Dumbledore said that grieving leads to healing. But I don't know if I've grieved."

Draco stared at her and then up at the gray sky. "How could you not grieve? He's your brother."

"I know."

"We don't have to go. We can go back. I just want you to feel better."

Ginny looked around at the bare trees and the town of Hogsmead looming just ahead. She held out her gloved hand and watched as a single snowflake drifted into her palm. "I want to go with you."

Draco took her to Archimedes Inn, which was at the very edge of town, opposite the Shrieking Shack. She glanced around nervously before following him inside.

"I need a room for one night," Draco told the wizard at the front counter.

"And I suppose you're old enough to rent a room for one night?" the wizard asked.

"Of course," Draco said smoothly, pulling a handful of Galleons from his pocket.

The wizard eyed the money, then Draco and nodded. "Room 214 then."

Ginny followed Draco into room 214. It was a large room with a king size bed in the middle, two large chairs, a desk, and in the bathroom, a large heart shaped bathtub. Ginny began to giggle. "Is this the honeymoon suite?"

Draco cracked a half smile. "Looks like it."

Ginny sat on the edge of the bed and bounced up and down. "Well, it's nice. Do you think anyone will notice that we're gone?"

"I doubt it. Especially since it's the Holidays."

They had their dinner sent to the room and spent nearly two hours in the heart shaped tub, just talking. Or rather, Ginny talked and Draco listened. It was the first time she'd managed to have a serious conversation about Ron since he'd died, and even though her fresh crop of tears had left her drained, she felt a little better. Like maybe that hole in her heart wasn't going to be an open wound anymore but a scar. Like maybe, just maybe, things could be allowed to heal and it wouldn't be an insult to Ron's memory. Draco had the hotel's boutique send them up nightclothes and when Ginny drifted off to sleep, for the first time in months, it came easily.

***

Draco wasn't sure what woke him from sleep, but the feeling that something wasn't right was absolutely suffocating him. Slowly, carefully, he edged his fingers underneath his pillow and gripped his wand. Hearing no sound from within the room, he opened his eyes and glanced around. Nothing seemed to be disturbed, except for the atmosphere in the room. Then he sensed it. Something was lurking. And it was right outside their door, ready to kill. His father.

Without thinking, he grabbed Ginny around the waist and apparated.

"What's going on?" she gasped as they tumbled to the snow covered ground.

"Come on," he hissed, already running for the gate as he tugged her to her feet.

"What is it?" she asked again as they bolted across the school grounds, running barefoot through the snow, and trying to keep her gown down.

"My father. He was there! He was-"

"There you are." The front door's of the castle swung open and Dumbledore towered in front of them. Even though he was in night robes, his presence seemed to fill the doorway and Ginny immediately felt guilty.

"I'm sorry," she began.

"There is no time for that," he cut her off. "Quickly, to my office."

They followed behind him, his long hair and robes billowing behind him. Dumbledore snapped his password at the gargoyle and it quickly sprung aside. Ginny had never felt more thoughtless as the stairs took them up to the headmaster's office. The door opened and she saw Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape waiting there.

"How could you do this?" McGonagall began. "How could you be so very thoughtless, and on tonight, of all nights?"

"That is enough," Dumbledore said. He pulled a great glass globe from his cabinet and placed it before them, tapping it with his wand. "It is just as I feared. They are at the gates."

Snape glared at Draco. "You of all people should know that your father is able to track your movements!"

Draco looked guiltily at his bare feet.

"When you left for the summer, did it never occur to you that there was a reason your father was unable to find you? Did you not stop to think that Professor Dumbledore had sent you to one of the very few safe places?"

"Severus," Dumbledore said lightly. "What's done is done."

Ginny glanced around the room at the angry faces of past headmasters and mistresses glaring at them from their portraits, feeling uncomfortably indecent in her cotton nightgown with its scooped neck and mid thigh hem. "What's going on?"

"You must be aware Mr. Malfoy, that your father is now seeking to kill you, and it would seem that he's been alerted to Ms. Weasley's role in this as well. And that places her in great danger as well." Dumbledore stared both of them in the eye. "Neither of you are to leave these grounds again without my permission if you value your life."

As he spoke his fireplace roared to life and Fudge's face appeared in the flames. Ginny wrinkled her nose and stepped away, for she still hadn't forgiven the arrogant, pig headed ex-Minister for his stupidity during her 4^th year.

"Albus! They're everywhere! There are Death Eaters at your gate!" he gasped.

"I am already aware of this. We have the situation under control," Dumbledore said calmly.

"Please, I don't know what to do. Can I Floo over?" he begged.

"Very well," Dumbledore sighed, "but you cannot stay."

Fudge came tumbling into the room moments later. "What will we do?"

"I don't think there is any we to speak of," McGonagall said sharply.

Ginny glanced at Draco, who was watching the situation with a frown on his face.

Fudge scrambled out of his overcoat. "Hold this, will you?"

Without even glancing at her, he tossed his coat at Ginny who caught it. But before she could put it down, she felt an all too familiar tugging on her bellybutton and was caught up in a whirlwind of color and space and time as she left the safety of Hogwarts.

CHAPTER 19 Truth Comes Out

Draco watched with horror as the scene played out before him. Each second felt as if it had slowed to a minute. Ginny looked surprised, but caught Fudge's coat as it sailed through the air, and as her hands closed on it, Dumbledore launched himself across the room. Snape and McGonagall had both performed different hexes on Fudge, and then Ginny disappeared, Dumbledore landing where Ginny had just been.

"Where is she?" Dumbledore roared as he rounded on Fudge.

Draco took a good look at the former Minister and noticed the blank look in his eyes. "He's being controlled," he managed to spit out. He felt like he had just been hit in the face with a stunning spell. His feet wouldn't move, his brain couldn't comprehend.

"I'll get the Veritaserum," Snape said darkly before rushing from the room.

Dumbledore waved his hand and Fudge stiffly stood to his feet and then sat in a chair, magical bindings appearing to hold his wrists and ankles.

Draco leapt forward and enclosed his hands around Fudge's neck, watching with twisted satisfaction as his eyes bulged. "Where is she? Where did she go?"

"Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore's still calm voice warned him, "although I do understand how you feel, killing him will not get us any closer to finding Ms. Weasley."

Snape appeared back in the room at that moment, a small vial in his hand. He tipped Fudge's head back and forced the potion down his throat.

"Where did you send Ginny?" Draco demanded.

"To the Dark Lord," Fudge said calmly.

"What location?" Dumbledore queried.

"The hideout."

"Where is the hideout located?"

"I do not know."

"Who put the curse on you?"

"Lucius. He was always such a good friend."

Draco snorted before shouting, "Where the hell is she?"

"The hideout. The Lucius said his plan did not work and that I was to give this to the Weasley girl so she could be brought to the tower."

Draco suddenly felt sick. "The tower."

"Do you know about the tower?" Snape suddenly rounded on him.

Draco nodded. "My family's summer home. It's not being used. It has a tower."

"Where is it?"

"In France," he nearly whispered. "In south France."

Snape nodded. "Yes, I know it well."

"You've been there," Draco told him. "It's well guarded."

Dumbledore looked up at the many portraits. "He is not to leave here. When the Veritaserum and binds wear off, re-bind him. Of course, the door and fireplace will seal themselves against him. I also need some of you to alert Harry, and Hermione. They have always proved useful. Minerva, I need you to alert the Order. Draco I want you to go with her."

"No! I have to find Ginny!"
"You will go with your professor. No one else knows how to find this tower and Snape will be coming with me."

Draco nodded weakly, knowing if Dumbledore couldn't save Ginny, no one else could either.

McGonagall grabbed hold of Draco's wrist before he could say anymore and dragged him to the fireplace. She grabbed an extra large handful of Floo powder and shouted "Grimmauld Place!"

They landed noisily in the living room of Harry's house.

"Remus!" McGonagall shouted. "Remus, are you here?"

It took Draco several seconds to realize who she was calling. He stood still, unsure of what to do while she marched across the room, tapped her wand against a large oak chest and muttered something. He felt like a fool, standing in a house in London while Ginny was at the mercy of his father and the Dark Lord and quite possibly the other Death Eaters in the south of France. If she was still alive. Of course she is he told himself. But there he stood, unable to do a thing. He watched as his professor retrieved a glass globe similar to the one in Dumbledore's office and snapped "Order" at it.

"What's going on?" a sleepy Lupin asked, entering the room and glancing from Draco to McGonagall.

"Tell him," she snapped as she peered into the globe. "Molly, get here right away. Alert your family. Everyone needs to be here now!" She continued talking to the globe, using names of people Draco recognized from the summer.

"They got Ginny," he told Lupin flatly. "Fudge told her to hold his coat but it was a portkey. He was under the controlling curse."

"Explain this from the beginning," Lupin demanded, no longer sleepy.

Draco told him everything he could, as quickly as he could. He kept having to restart the story as more and more members of the Order filled up the room.

"My baby," Mrs. Weasley kept sobbing. "Oh Merlin, my baby! I can't do this! We can't go through this again!"

"Don't do this to yourself Molly," Lupin stepped up. "He doesn't want to kill her. You know what Dumbledore said."

What the hell? Draco wondered. What who wanted? Father?

"How could you take her out of the grounds?" Hermione yelled. "Don't you know they have numerous spells on them to keep us safe!"

"She wasn't taken from Hogsmead!" he yelled back. "She was taken from Dumbledore's office!"

"She'd still be here and we wouldn't be here if it wasn't for that!" she argued.

"Enough." Mr. Weasley stepped between them. "We have to unite if we want to bring her back."

Draco's ears began to burn. Not only had he been indirectly responsible for Ginny's kidnapping, but he had practically just admitted to the entire Order that they were sleeping together. Of course, any fool could have figured it out, and they hadn't shagged at all while they were at the Inn, but just the same, now everyone knew. Besides that, he felt like an outsider here because he was. Bloody fucking hell. He was Draco Malfoy. He was not supposed to feel like this.

"Draco, do you know how to set up a portkey?" Moody asked him.

Draco shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of his magical eye. "No. We are supposed to learn that next month."

"Then I'll need the most accurate description of where this castle is located."

The Malfoy's summer home in France really was a medieval castle, known for its private beach and extraordinary view, but it was continually cold and dark now matter how many heating charms were put on it even in the dead of summer. "It's well protected. It's gonna take us a while to undo all those hexes and spells." He set to work telling Moody everything he knew about it, drawing maps and describing the views while the other members of the Order prepared for battle.

After nearly forty-five minutes, Moody decided he was ready. They used an umbrella, a cooking spoon, and an old plaque. When Moody gave the word, they all took hold of the object nearest them and Draco felt the tug on his belly button, then the world began to spin.

***

Ginny landed with a sickening thud, and before she could scramble to her feet, her wrists and ankles were bound.

"So, you stupid little girl, my son thought he could save you, did he?"

Ginny wasn't even given a chance to answer as a cloth wrapped itself around her mouth. She had never been so scared in her life. Lucius Malfoy stood before, towering over her, his lips pulled up into a cruel smile and his eyes cold and flat as they swept across her flimsy night dress.

"Know this," he hissed. "When the Dark Lord tires of you, I will be here to find out exactly why my son gave everything up for you, and then I will kill you."

She struggled into a sitting position, scooting back to make sure her gown stayed as low as it would go.

He left Ginny alone, and she managed to blink enough tears from her eyes to glance around the room. The room was fairly small, and circular with no furniture at all, with great stone walls rising up above her and a tiny slit of a window near the ceiling. Where am I? How did Fudge get involved in all this? Sure, he was a stupid git, but he wasn't evil. Was he?

She lost track of time after a while, fitfully dozing in and out of sleep. The room was completely dark when she woke to the sound of the heavy wooden door creaking open. "Ginny?"

That smooth, silky voice. The one that had only recently stopped invading her dreams and turning them into nightmares. The one that had tried to kill her before.

"Lumos," the silky voice whispered. The room lit up and she saw Tom Riddle standing before her, smiling down at her petrified form.

He reached out and gently undid her gag, then her wrist and ankle bindings. "I've missed you so much."

"Why are you doing this?" she croaked, her throat parched and her lips cracked and dry.

"I've needed you, Ginny. I've thought about you everyday for 5 years. But you left me." His hand snaked forward and brushed through her hair. "Here." He handed her a glass out of thin air, and Ginny was too thirsty to be worried.

She swallowed one gulp and then another. "But you tried to kill me." Oh how she hated him. He knew exactly what he did to her, haunting her dreams, invading her sleep. She felt like a foolish little girl again, willing to submit to him, willing to give in to the immense power he held over her.

"You know I would have never killed you. You know that."

And she did, somewhere deep inside of her, she knew that Tom could never kill her, not unless she wanted to leave him for good. When Draco came into her life, the dreams of Tom had been replaced by dreams of Draco, but Tom wasn't gone. He was like a shadow, lurking around the corner, just waiting for his moment. There were times when he left her alone for weeks of months, but she hadn't thought of Tom even once since Draco had come into her life. "Then let me go."

"I can't do that. You know why."

"No," she whispered, "I don't."

"You took him from me. The young Malfoy's service was to be mine. And without you to stop him, he will fall to me."

"He won't."

"Then he will die." For a moment Tom's eyes blazed red and Ginny cowered, but he relaxed again. "Why have you been hiding from me?"

Ginny had no answer. There was no answer she could give him that wouldn't enrage him, so she sat silently, tugging her nightgown down, trying to find some balance between too much cleavage and too much thigh.

"As I thought," he said, his face calm, but his voice betraying his anger, "you have no answer. But no matter. You are here now." His hand reached out and touched her thigh. "And you have only gotten more beautiful."

"Please, no," she gasped, petrified.

"You are mine Ginny," he explained calmly, as if he was patiently telling a small child why the sky was blue. "You've always known it."

"I can't be yours," she told him, terrified. "You don't exist."

"But here I am. I'm not a memory any more." He circled around her, seating himself on the floor behind her.

Ginny's heart banged so violently against her ribs she could see the nightgown rapidly moving over her chest. "Don't do this."

"I'm going to make you mine forever." She could feel his breath, hot on her neck.

"You can't."

His hands, which had been caressing her back, suddenly stopped. He roughly grabbed her face and spun her around. She hadn't been imagining it; his eyes really did glow red. "So not only did you steal my servant," he spat, "but you bedded him too."

Ginny began to cry. "I'm sorry."

"No. You are not sorry." His fingers tightened around her jaw. He glared at her, then thrust her roughly away. He stood back to his feet and pulled his wand from his pocket.

Still crying, Ginny bowed her head, and prepared to die.

But instead of killing her, her grabbed her by the hair and pulled her upwards, seizing her waist and muttering a long incantation. With his wand, he drew a narrow scratch down her arm that immediately oozed blood and then did the same to himself. He pressed his forearm into her, mingling their blood, and finished the spell. When he was done, he dropped Ginny back to the floor and smiled. "Now you will never be rid of me. For as long as I am alive, there will be no escaping."

When he left, Ginny cried harder and harder, examining the dried blood on her arm - her blood mingled with Tom's. Except Tom wasn't real. Tom was Lord Voldemort, but he bled real. He had touched her like he was real. She was scared and confused and alone, and finally cried herself into a fearful, fitful sleep. She woke up time and time again, curled into the far corner of the empty room, certain that Tom had come back in the room. The touch of his fingers on her skin startled her from her sleep, as did his voice in her ear, and his breath on her neck. But each time, she woke alone.