5Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition Season 8
Round : Round 1 — Who Are You?
Team : Puddlemere United
Position : Captain
Task : Hero : Fear—Weakness. This is shown as Ginny being Draco's weakness that the Dark Lord exploits.
Word Count : 2521
Warnings : Torture by Unforgivable curses and canon torture by Bella in the Malfoy Manor. Kidnapping, Imprisonment.
A/N : Drinny fic, set in Deathly Hallows. Canon Divergent. :)
There Is Strength In Love
Ginny is his weakness, and he must not let the Dark Lord know this. Because if he finds out, Ginny will suffer.
"To be young … and in love," the Dark Lord sneers from his seat at the head of the table—their table—and strokes his pet snake with a deathly pale finger.
Avery laughs from a little further down the table, joined by a few others. The Dark Lord raises a hand to silence them. "Dear Dumbledore, always preaching about love. Love is so strong. Love is the strongest of all powers." He laughs a booming laugh and continues, voice quiet again, "He was wrong. He always is. Love is weak. Love makes you WEAK!"
Silence reigns the table as Nagini slithers on in, moving towards the other end of the table.
"Find the girl," he says finally, "and bring her here alive."
Draco freezes, his blood running cold. He chances a glance at the Dark Lord, who is looking into the distance with an unsettlingly serene smile, and turns his gaze back to their fireplace, schooling his face into an impassive mask. The Dark Lord rises from his seat and everybody follows suit, Draco a little more mechanically than the rest, bowing as the Dark Lord walks out of what used to be the Malfoys' dining room.
Draco sits back down in his chair as others begin to leave, whispering in groups and making plans to capture the girl. Supposedly Harry Potter's girl. Ginerva Weasley. He stares at the brightly dancing flames burning in the fireplace. They remind him of her for good reason—her fiery red hair, her hot temper, her burning sense of justice. Draco clenches his jaw, swallowing, keeping his eyes trained on the fire. His eyes sting, although whether it is due to his unrelenting stare is doubtful.
"Draco?" Mother gingerly calls out from beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He shrugs it off, pursing his lips. "Come have your dinner," Mother says after a pause, "you haven't eaten all day."
He's about to refuse, but finally relents. He doesn't have the energy to argue with Mother anymore, or to refuse her anything.
It is late evening the next day when Mulciber comes bearing news that she has been captured, and Draco's heart sinks into his stomach. He is glad everyone else is too distracted to notice how his exhale is almost a sob, and how his expression is that of agony before he schools his face into an impassive mask. The Dark Lord smiles wide at all those present in the room, making bile rise in Draco's throat.
"Very good," the Dark Lord says, "you will be rewarded well, Mulciber."
Mulciber nods and claps his hands as a signal to march her in. Everyone's heads turn towards the door but Draco keeps on looking at the fire—he doesn't have it in him to see her like this. He had expected her to come in kicking and screaming, cursing her captors left, right, and center. Instead he only hears the sound of footsteps and a piercing silence. He doesn't know if that is a good thing.
The Dark Lord laughs upon seeing her and makes his way towards her, clearly pleased. Draco's eyes follow him without wanting to. His heart truly breaks when he sees her—bruises littering her skin from head to toe, bloodshot eyes, messy hair, and torn clothes. He isn't entirely sure if this is the Carrows' doing or Mulciber's, but right then he wants to do nothing more than kill them all and kill their master. 'Your master,' a voice from inside his head calls, and he clenches his hand into a tight fist under the table.
"Well, well." The Dark Lord lifts her chin up with a single bony finger. "So this is Harry Potter's paramour." Draco breathes out heavily. She isn't. He wants to tell them all that she really isn't, but he can't give the Dark Lord any more leverage over him. Ginny turns her face away, looking towards the fireplace instead. She hasn't seen Draco yet. "Exquisite," the Dark Lord murmurs, tracing his finger up her face and gripping her by her hair, prompting her to scream. "You're a Pureblood, girl. Precious blood. You should've chosen someone else to love. Someone worthy. Someone who wouldn't get you killed." He pushes her away and she falls on the floor of the dining room. "Lock her up. Potter will come looking for her sooner or later. Keep her alive till then. After that …" he looks at the greedy faces of his followers seated at the table and smiles. "Do what you want."
Draco thinks he might throw up as a cheer rises from the table. The Dark Lord quietens them by lifting up his hand. "Spread news that we have her. Potter must find out soon. Until then … Draco." Draco jerks his head up at mention of his name. "... give our new guest a tour of the dungeons."
Draco isn't entirely sure if he likes the smile on the Dark Lord's face. He stares at him for a heartbeat, then quickly nods, turning back to the fireplace, trying to think of anything but Ginny Weasley.
Draco waits until everyone has left the room before walking over to Ginny. She is still lying on the floor heavily, hands clenched into fists and hair splayed over her face. She doesn't move even when Draco approaches her.
"Gin?" he calls quietly, crouching beside her. Hesitantly he brushes the hair away from her face. She opens her eyes and looks around the empty room before she finally looks at Draco and swallows.
"Come on," he murmurs, pulling her up. She stumbles when she tries to stand and Draco steadies her gently, his hand on the small of her back, trying his hardest to not touch her any more than he can help it. He guides her to an empty cell in the dungeons and deposits her there, standing a few feet away as Ginny takes in her surroundings.
"He's using me to get to Harry, isn't he?" she asks finally, settling in a corner of her cell and leaning her head against the dungeon's stone wall.
Draco nods, not really knowing what else to say. "I'm sorry," he finally says, the words sounding hollow to his ears.
"It's not your fault," Ginny whispers back, looking into his eyes after what has to be an eternity. She trusts him, even though he is a Death Eater. He wishes he could trust himself that much.
The sound of the Dungeon gate opening and footsteps approaching has him retreating in haste. "I'll bring potions and food whenever I can."
They bring in Lovegood next, to keep her father under control. It's been three weeks since Ginny has arrived. The Dark Lord hasn't asked for either of them to be tortured, probably because of their blood status, but he relishes the torture he inflicts upon other prisoners. Ollivander, the Muggleborns, Goblins. Draco hates it. The Dark Lord knows this. That is why he makes him torture most, if not all, of their other prisoners until their soul-crushing scream is ringing in his ears.
Today he makes Draco walk past both Ollivander's and the Muggleborns' cells and towards where Ginny is, Draco's heart creeping up in his throat. He stops him between Lovegood's cell instead. Draco is relieved, of course, because she is not Ginny, but the idea of having to torture Lovegood is equally alarming.
"Go on, then," the Dark Lord remarks casually, and Draco swallows, not being able to lift his wand. Normally when he has people tortured he has something he wants to get out of them. Luna Lovegood can give him nothing. Nothing except sadistic pleasure.
She is curled up in a corner, looking at Draco with her wide blue eyes, waiting for something to happen. Draco takes a step forward and she cowers behind her knees.
'What are you doing?' a voice calls from inside his head and he breathes out slowly. Really, what is he doing?
"I said, Go on, Draco," the Dark Lord calls again, this time with a touch of malice in his voice.
Draco only half glances at him, leaning against the corridor wall as if waiting for someone to talk to him about the weather, and raises his wand in disgust, muttering "Crucio!" under his breath. Nothing happens.
He clicks his tongue and stands up straight. "Forgotten how to torture, have we?" he asks, moving into Draco's line of sight. "Maybe I should give you a demonstration. Where is Potter's fancy woman again?"
Draco freezes, his hand jerking, and turns to where the Dark Lord is going, horror filling every inch of his body. He can't find the will to go to her, to watch. He is shaking.
"Crucio!" the Dark Lord says, his voice gleeful, and Ginny's scream makes him want to die. He closes his eyes, her screams chilling him to the bone. The silence that follows them rings in his ears.
"You see, Draco? That is how it is done," he says as he walks back to him. Draco opens his eyes to find the Dark Lords snake like eyes staring at him. "Next time," he says through grit teeth, "heed my instructions, or Potter's girl may not make it out alive."
Draco stands rooted to the spot even as the Dark Lord slams the door shut behind him.
"She's going to be okay, Draco, go check on her," Luna's small voice trembles as she calls out to him, and he nods, bracing himself for what he is going to see.
Ginny is lying in a heap on the floor, breathing raspily. He sits beside her carefully and cradles her head, even the simple motion making her wince.
"I am so sorry," he whispers against her hand, pressing his lips to it. "So very sorry." A tear makes its way down his face and falls into her hair.
Ginny only presses her hand into his and squeezes it.
"Malfoy!" a voice calls from the entrance to the dungeons, "Come upstairs fast!"
Draco looks up from Ginny's wound that he is tending to, surprised. It couldn't be the Dark Lord. He was out looking for someone somewhere in America. Then what?
"Go," Ginny whispers, and reluctantly, he leaves the dungeons. His heart stops beating when he reaches the library. Because the three people standing before him are the ones on whom he and the rest of the world had pinned their hopes. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ronald Weasley have been caught.
"Quick, Draco," Aunt Bella grabs his hand and pulls him closer to them. "Is this Harry Potter?"
He is. His face is bloated heavily, but there is no mistaking it. It is him. The three look at him with an indiscernible expression. The others don't know for sure. Perhaps there is hope yet.
"I … I don't think so."
"What!" several people scream at once.
"Look closer, boy."
"It isn't him"
"See, Bella? You were going to summon the Dark Lord for this!"
"But the girl! She is definitely his Mudblood companion. I've seen her posters. And the sword. Where did they get that?"
"Throw the other two in the dungeons. Let's see if the girl can talk."
Draco barely has time to process it all, and they are being taken to the dungeons before he can do anything. If he can do anything.
He takes him a little over fifteen minutes in the library to form a plan, and it takes his Aunt that long to pull out her silver dagger. Hermione's scream pierces through the manor. He needs to work fast.
"Robby will take you to whatever place you think is safe. You don't have to tell me, just him."
Both Potter and Weasley look at him skeptically. "Why should we trust you Malfoy? You're a Death Eater. How do we know this is not a ploy to get us killed?" Weasley asks, and Draco sighs.
"If I wanted to kill you I would've told them the truth up there. I'm not a Death Eater by choice, Weasley."
"Still. You killed Dumbledor—" Another scream drowns out his voice, and Potter clenches his hand into a fist.
"Maybe we should listen to him." Weasley looks at him with a raised eyebrow. "It's not as if we have a choice."
He turns to Draco. "But we won't leave without Hermione." Draco nods.
"You'll have to take the others with you too."
"Others?"
"Ollivander. The Goblins. Luna. Ginny."
"Ginny is here?" Weasley asks, and he looks as if he might explode.
Draco nods solemnly. "They aren't in very good shape, so you'll have to be careful, make two trips or more …"
"Can we see them?"
Draco leads them to the inner parts of the dungeons, where Ginny and Luna are sitting together.
"Ginny!"
"Ron? Harry? What are you doing here?" Ginny looks at Draco. "Does he know?"
Draco shakes his head. "He isn't here. But he will be. Soon. You need to get out of here, all of you."
"So do you," Ginny says, frowning. "I'm not leaving you here, he'd kill you."
He sighs. "You lot need to go now with Robby. I'll get Granger somehow and send her. Someone needs to do it. Better be me."
All four of them look at him silently, none of them moving.
"Go," he says, "we don't have too long. Robbie. Take them where they ask you to, then come back for Granger."
Bella has finally let go of Granger, it seems, and the library is bloody and smells strongly of iron. She is lying on the carpet, bleeding heavily. She's unconscious. Bella has left the room, and there is an uncanny quiet in the manor, as if the structure were holding its breath for something to happen. Robbie hasn't returned yet. He's crouched beside her to heal her cuts—the ones that can be healed, anyway—when he hears the commotion.
"What do you mean they are gone! The Dark Lord is here!"
"The Dungeon is empty; I don't know where they are."
"Quiet!" Draco's blood goes cold. The Dark Lord was making his way over here. Hermione had to be taken away. Maybe he could apparate … but he'd have to get out of the manor for that.
The door to the library opens with a bang.
"Draco Malfoy," the Dark Lord says, and several things happen at once. The chandelier of the library falls down between them and the Dark Lord, its shards embedding themselves in their skins; a house elf whom he hasn't seen in five years calls him master; and as they apparate away, Hermione in tow, Draco hears the Dark Lord scream his rage out."
They appear inside a living room crowded with people—all of whom advance upon them as soon as they materialize—trying to get Hermione medical aid, asking him questions, thanking Dobby.
He looks around the room to verify that everyone from the dungeons has been removed and his eyes land on Ginny, whose eyes are shining with unshed tears. She launches herself upon him, her lips meeting his fervently.
"You're okay," she breathes out finally.
"Only because you are too."
