Fic: The Dragon's Keep 2/3
Title: The Dragon's Keep (2/3)
Pairing: Draco/Ginny
Chapter Word Count: 3569
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Ginny is given a second chance at life and love when she heads a small dragon preserve on the grounds of Malfoy Manor.
Notes: Written for the dgficexchange and nominated for Best Line and Best Ginny. Yay!
But they did, Ginny recalled. They met many times over the course of that year, in abandoned classrooms and darkened hallways. And if Draco looked pale and sometimes rubbed his left forearm, or if the castle walls happened to be vandalized with slogans for Dumbledore's Army on the very nights Ginny snuck out and met him, they never discussed the war or their parts in it.
They talked about Quidditch and the World Cup only to discover neither was sure who competed this year. No team from Britain, was all they knew.
They talked about The Quibbler, never the front page with its pictures of Harry and calls for people everywhere to unite against You-Know-Who, but the inner pages. Was Thicknesse really controlled by a tribe of advanced Cornish Pixies? Could an extraction of Bubotuber Pus really melt years off one's skin, or would it just melt the skin itself? Was it possible for a common philodendron to scream and warn its owner of impending attack? Ginny brought a Lovegoodian slant gleaned from Luna to the conversations, and Draco called them both idiots. With the paper spread on the floor in front of them and his shining head bent close to hers, Ginny felt normal in a way she had not since Dumbledore's death.
It was a lark, a release, a way to laugh in the dark, and Ginny never wondered about Draco's motives until she really looked at the dark circles under his eyes and his bloodless skin.
"I don't sleep much," he told her irritably. "I'm not even tired anymore."
"I'm tired all the time," she replied. "I just can't rest."
*
"Why do you do it?" he had asked. "You're sixteen. No one would blame you if you kept your head down and your mouth shut."
Ginny glanced over, but Draco was staring fixedly at a sleeping portrait. She had joined him tonight with a vibrant purple bruise on her cheekbone, caused by landing face down on the floor when Goyle hit her with the Cruciatus during detention. Blankly, Draco had stared at the bruise, just blinking slowly when she muttered "detention" and then healing the mark with the same tuneful charm he had used on her before.
He hadn't looked at her since.
"I'd blame myself, and that's enough." She too examined the painting as if it were the most interesting thing in the hall. "You were sixteen when you joined You-Know-Who, weren't you? Why didn't you stay out of it?"
He shifted as if embarrassed, and Ginny didn't stop to think, any more than she thought about the way he seemed to wait for her in every shadowed hallway, or the way he never seemed to talk to anyone else, or even the way she was no longer afraid when he lifted his wand toward her face. She just inched closer, until she could feel his body heat through their school robes.
"I thought…" He swallowed audibly. "I thought I was helping my family. I thought I was fighting for everything I believe in." His open palms waffled away from his body in a strange half-gesture, as if to say Wasn't I foolish? Go ahead and laugh if you want.
She took his hand in her own instead.
"That's why I fight too." He was so still, just staring down at their entwined fingers, he didn't appear to even be breathing. "I guess we're not so different after all, Draco."
He said nothing, but when she gave his hand a squeeze, he squeezed back.
*
"Where is she, you bastard? Where did you people take Luna?"
Ginny's voice had been thick with grief, and her eyes still burned from all the tears she had shed since Luna was pulled off the Hogwarts Express. Almost as bad as the pain of her friend's abduction, however, was the idea that Malfoy had abused her trust. He had listened to her chirp about the Christmas holiday, pretended to share her relief over getting away from Snape and the Carrows and seeing family again, when all the while he may have known the Death Eaters were planning to silence Xenophilius Lovegood by targeting his beloved daughter.
I'm such a traitor. Even knowing what he is, I'm here alone with him again. Her shame fueled her rage and she pulled her wand without thinking.
"Answer me!" She was loud, too loud for this nighttime corridor, but the sight of him drove her mad. He just stood there like a marble statue, his hands limp at his sides, his eyes shut tight as if he could block out the world.
"Look at me!" Her wand clattered to the floor as she slapped him hard across the face. "Did you put her in Azkaban? Is she in some dark cellar in your precious Malfoy Manor? Where-"
"I can't tell you," he whispered. His head was still turned to one side where it had been rocked by the strength of her arm. "It's not safe for you to know."
"How…how can you do this?" Crying, Ginny grabbed both shoulders and forced him against the wall. He looked at her then, her handprint a livid blemish on his face. His own eyes were wet, and his mouth moved silently. Sorry…sorry…I'm sorry.
She hid her face against his chest so she wouldn't have to see him anymore. She could feel his bones, even through his thick winter robes. The sharp edge of his collarbone, the jut of his ribs-it was as if the war was whittling Draco down to nothing, even as his comrades grew fat and sated on their cruelty.
Boneless, Draco sank to the floor, and Ginny sank with him, half in his lap.
She kept crying. "I hate you."
His arms shook as he wrapped them around her, and she could feel his mouth moving against her hair. "Yeah. I hate me too."
*
His lips were searing hot, and his hands were everywhere.
They never spoke of trivialities anymore. No sports, no favorite foods, no happy childhood memories.
They never spoke of the war either. No Harry, no Luna. No Dark Lord, no Death Eaters.
With little left to discuss, they clung to each other instead, pressing their bodies together in the shadows or stretching out together on a teacher's desk in an abandoned classroom. There simply wasn't much to say that could not be better communicated with their bodies than with words.
If Ginny caught her own hands shaking from stress, or if she spotted Draco staring baffled around the Great Hall during dinner as if he could not believe what he saw around him was real, well, Ginny knew those weren't sufficient reasons to break their self-imposed silence.
She had done so only once, when he had given her chocolate for Valentine's Day. It was so ordinary.
"You could do something." Her voice was rough from disuse, her lips swollen from kisses.
"No, I can't." He didn't pretend to misunderstand. "I only have enough in me to be exactly what I am: a Malfoy." His lips ghosted over her ear. "You don't need my help anyway. You're stronger than I am."
*
In the wee hours of the morning in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, the day Easter hols began, she pressed her mouth over his heart and whispered she loved him, quiet enough that he could ignore it if he wanted.
He didn't.
Later, on the Hogwarts Express, feeling a not unpleasant ache in the still-sticky place between her thighs with every clickety-clack of the rails, Ginny closed her eyes and let herself rest.
*
Run. They know R is with HP.
The note, in an unfamiliar hand (had she really never seen his handwriting?) had been delivered by an unfamiliar owl while dinner's leftovers were still on the table.
She hadn't known he could be this brave.
"Ginny? Who-" her father began, but Bill Apparated into the Burrow with a loud crack and began yelling for everyone to get to Muriel's.
She had clutched the note in her hand until her father pulled it free, read it, and tossed it into the fire.
"I'm sorry, Ginny. I'm glad you've found an ally, but it's not safe to hold onto."
*
She had not seen Draco again until after the Battle of Hogwarts, after that first celebration had worn down and Minister Shacklebolt had ordered Lucius Malfoy arrested.
She had stood there, feeling as if Fred's ghost perched on her shoulder, watching Narcissa Malfoy sob and watching Draco cover his face with both hands. He looked around the room once, wildly, before finding her. The anguish on his face would have plowed furrows in her heart had it not been hardened by her brother's death. He had bitten his lip until she thought he might draw blood then taken his mother's arm and led her from the Hall without a backward glance.
It wasn't until Harry took her hand that Ginny realized he had been beside her all the time.
*
"Ginny? You in there?"
Charlie's hand waving an inch from her nose, brought Ginny back to reality.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat, looking vaguely around the office. Her tiny kingdom, she thought, and it had been carved out of the land Draco loved so much. Was Fate playing with her again?
"Sorry." She stood up and stretched, shaking her right leg a bit to get the blood flowing again. "I think," she cleared her throat, "I think your idea is a good one, Hagrid."
*
The next day, Ginny sent an owl to the Manor inviting Draco to join her in the West Barn after lunch.
She had almost given up hope when he showed up shortly before tea.
"What do you want, Miss Weasley?"
Startled, she whirled in the barn's center aisle, the gravel bedding she was levitating falling to the concrete and scattering everywhere.
She swore loudly, and three of the four dragons roared and chuffed blue-orange flame. The flames were harmlessly diffused by the wards surrounding each brood dragon's pen, but the effect-and the noise-was still startling to the uninitiated.
Great. Ginny watched Draco cringe and clap his hands over his ears. We're off to a good start.
"Draco, I'm sorry." She spoke loudly but calmly, knowing nothing would calm the dragons faster than a return to normalcy. Sure enough, Friction and Scarlet immediately subsided, leaving only Firebug, a pugnacious, newly-matured female, pacing in circles and growling. "You startled me," Ginny continued.
"What is this about?" Clad in another black shirt and pair of black trousers, Draco was almost indistinguishable from yesterday. His hair, though, was tousled by the day's high winds, and Ginny had an urge to smooth it with her fingers. "Miss Weasley?"
"Hmm?" She jumped slightly. "Oh. Well, based upon our conversation yesterday, I realized you don't know much about our daily operations down here. I thought we could spend some time together, and I'll show you around, answer your questions, that kind of thing." When he merely raised one eyebrow, she followed up with "And please call me Ginny, Draco. We didn't used to be so formal."
He cocked his head to one side, assessing her, and Ginny shivered at the feeling of déjà vu. For a moment, they could have been two frightened kids in a dark room again, instead of two adults in a brightly lit barn.
"No, I guess we weren't," he murmured. He took a deep breath and exhaled her name in a sigh, as if he had been waiting for a long time to say it again. "Ginny."
She shivered for an entirely different reason.
"Come-" Her breath caught and she cleared her throat. "Come meet Scarlet. She's queen bee around here."
Side by side, they walked to the largest pen. Ginny was comfortable, and it took her a moment to realize it was not just because she was finally walking next to someone she would always love.
It was because Draco made her feel normal.
Since her fall, Ginny's gait was choppy at best, her weakened right leg forcing her to take shorter steps and rely more strongly upon her left. Other people, even well-intentioned ones like her brothers or Harry, simply moved faster than Ginny could. She would fall behind, watch others realize it, and see them pause until she could catch up. Ginny was embarrassed by these constant start-and-stop mechanics and she couldn't help but feel it must be frustrating for others.
Draco somehow managed to adjust his gait to hers in a way that was unobtrusive and natural.
She smiled up at him and was pleased that he smiled back. Though brief, the smile transformed his face until it could almost be the face she once knew so well.
Together, they peered into Scarlet's pen. At just over 30 feet in length, covered in shining black scales and spines, and curled protectively around a glowing mauve egg, Scarlet was absolutely breathtaking. Or at least, Ginny thought so, but she could tell even Draco was impressed. Not everyone had the chance to get this close to a brooding dragon every day.
"Scarlet's a proven breeder, not an easy thing for a dragon in captivity." Ginny kept her voice just above a whisper now, but Scarlet lifted her head anyway, scrutinizing them through one brilliant purple eye. A scuffle when she was still a hatchling had marred her face with a bright red, bolt-shaped scar, costing her an eye and giving her a name. "We were thrilled when Scarlet laid an egg a month after her arrival here. We never expected it to happen so soon. She's my favorite." Ginny sighed happily, wishing again that she could pet one of her charges without losing an arm. It wouldn't do to forget Alasdair MacFusty, however…
"I'm sure she is." His tone was cool and his eyes were focused on Scarlet's scar. "It must be nice to have a dragon who reminds you of Potter. Must lessen the pain of separation while you're here and he's off being the Ministry darling."
"I don't miss Harry. Why should I? I just saw him at Ron and Hermione's over Christmas." Ginny's tone, on the other hand, was completely benign. "In fact, Harry and his girlfriend are planning to drop by next week. Luna will be writing a series about the plight of Britain's magical creatures for The Quibbler and she's focusing on the preserve for the first article."
Draco leaned back, the coiled tension in his spine seeming to dissolve with the act. "So, Potter's really dating Lovegood?"
"Yes, and they're both quite happy about it." She rested her chin against a fireproof crosspiece. "Luna's a better match for him than I was, and she can keep up with him at all those Ministry functions he has to attend." She turned and smiled at Draco again. "I'm afraid these clodhopper boots--" she lifted one foot, "-don't really go with fancy dress robes for a Ministry Ball. Since high heels would make me fall over now, I guess I've danced at my last Ministry party."
He exhaled audibly through his nose, like he would breathe fire himself if he could. "As if I needed any further evidence that Potter's an ass."
"Don't misunderstand." Her voice was still mild. "I felt bad, but it wasn't because of anything Harry said or did. He hates those events and would quit going if he could, but the Ministry and the public still need him, so he goes."
His hand on the rail was almost close enough to touch. "Why did you feel so bad, then?"
"Because there were so few ways Harry and I were truly compatible. One of them was that we could be a beautiful public couple. I could dance on his arm as his famous Quidditch star girlfriend. After the accident, there was one less way we could connect, one less reason to be together." She shrugged, not proud of the years she and Harry had wasted on each other. "Even when we were unhappy-and that was most of the time-we were a hard habit to break."
Silent, they stood together watching Scarlet close her eye and put her head back down.
"I'm sorry I was late today," he said abruptly. "My mother needed me."
"It's okay." Her smallest finger brushed against his. "Come early tomorrow, and I'll put you to work."
"Oh, joy."
*
Draco became a regular fixture at the preserve over the following month.
He fed the dragons, changed bedding, made excellent suggestions for reorganizing the supply cupboards in both barns, and when it was noted with some concern that Blackjack's flame spout was not as hot as it should be, he produced the diary of a long-dead Malfoy who had been heavily into breeding dragons for the illegal sport of dragon baiting. The tips therein for herbal supplements put the molten blue-white core back in Blackjack's flame in under a week.
On the rare days when his mother needed him and he couldn't come, Ginny missed him horribly and her workload seemed suddenly heavier.
Ginny perched on one of the low stone walls, parchment on her lap and quill in hand. On the grass in front of her, Draco lay with his hands behind his head, twirling a blade between his teeth, and watching Friction swoop silently around the flight paddock.
"…but I think the reason she's not broody is that brat Firebug." He pulled the blade from his mouth and pointed it up at Friction. "Who could think about egg-laying with that little monster always making such a ruckus in the pen next door? If we move Friction next to Scarlet or Siena instead, I predict we'll see-"
"You're a fraud," she interrupted.
"Excuse me?" He sat up, dropping his grassy pointer.
"You're a fraud, a dragon-loving fraud." Ginny pretended to make a small notation on her parchment. "Coming down here every day with your long list of complaints, when all the while you love dragons just as much as I do."
Draco turned until he could face her cross-legged. "I'm a wizard, and my name is Draco. It would be pretty pathetic if I didn't love dragons."
"Do you realize how many official complaints you've filed with the Ministry since we set up the preserve? I do because Charlie looked it up." She toed his knee until he grabbed her ankle and squeezed. "Eighty-one! That's an average of one every day and a half." Ginny reached down and brushed his soft blond hair back from his forehead. "If you like dragons, what was the problem?"
"I don't want them here." His expression darkened. "This many dangerous creatures so close to my home are not good for Mother's nerves."
"But you've seen for yourself that it's as safe as we can make it."
"I'm still not happy about it."
Disgruntled, she set her parchment and quill aside. "Why not?"
Thoughtful, he gazed up at her for a moment. "You look beautiful sitting there."
Ginny blushed. It had been a very long time since Draco had last called her beautiful. When he held out his hand, she took it, and was surprised when he flattened it to the ancient wall and covered it with his own.
"Centuries ago, when the first Malfoys moved here, they made their home down here in this little valley." He looked past her, a light in his eyes as if he was seeing a vision far different than the modern buildings before him. "It was quiet and peaceful, and I'm sure it was beautiful. Being out of the way made concealing our presence from the local Muggles that much easier. Eventually, we were sick of hiding and built a new Manor on the hill, but this place was our beginning. These stones-" still hand in hand, they caressed the wall together "-are all that remain of the original keep. I couldn't prevent the Ministry from taking over, but I appealed to the Historic Division to protect these walls, and that's why you were instructed not to disturb them."
Draco brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the tips of her fingers, gritty from the stone. She felt a pang, knowing she had considered these walls an annoyance to work around when they were a vital part of Draco's history. No wonder he hated having the preserve here.
"This is why I fought you so hard," he said, confirming her thoughts. "To you, this is a safe place for your dragons. To me, these rocks are my bones, this land's my heart, and the breeze that blows through your hair is my breath. So yeah, I like dragons, but I love this patch of earth more."
He brushed away a tear she had not realized she'd shed and cupped her cheek.
"We have nowhere else to go," she said simply. "We were lucky to be sent here."
"I was lucky then too." His thumb traced her lips. "I always wanted to see you here, sitting on these walls, living on this land. And though I know I'm betraying my ancestors, if I have to accept dragons to have you here, then accept them I will."
And when he kissed her, Ginny could have sworn the previously silent dragon flying above them roared in triumph.
Part 3
Pairing: Draco/Ginny
Chapter Word Count: 3569
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Ginny is given a second chance at life and love when she heads a small dragon preserve on the grounds of Malfoy Manor.
Notes: Written for the dgficexchange and nominated for Best Line and Best Ginny. Yay!
But they did, Ginny recalled. They met many times over the course of that year, in abandoned classrooms and darkened hallways. And if Draco looked pale and sometimes rubbed his left forearm, or if the castle walls happened to be vandalized with slogans for Dumbledore's Army on the very nights Ginny snuck out and met him, they never discussed the war or their parts in it.
They talked about Quidditch and the World Cup only to discover neither was sure who competed this year. No team from Britain, was all they knew.
They talked about The Quibbler, never the front page with its pictures of Harry and calls for people everywhere to unite against You-Know-Who, but the inner pages. Was Thicknesse really controlled by a tribe of advanced Cornish Pixies? Could an extraction of Bubotuber Pus really melt years off one's skin, or would it just melt the skin itself? Was it possible for a common philodendron to scream and warn its owner of impending attack? Ginny brought a Lovegoodian slant gleaned from Luna to the conversations, and Draco called them both idiots. With the paper spread on the floor in front of them and his shining head bent close to hers, Ginny felt normal in a way she had not since Dumbledore's death.
It was a lark, a release, a way to laugh in the dark, and Ginny never wondered about Draco's motives until she really looked at the dark circles under his eyes and his bloodless skin.
"I don't sleep much," he told her irritably. "I'm not even tired anymore."
"I'm tired all the time," she replied. "I just can't rest."
*
"Why do you do it?" he had asked. "You're sixteen. No one would blame you if you kept your head down and your mouth shut."
Ginny glanced over, but Draco was staring fixedly at a sleeping portrait. She had joined him tonight with a vibrant purple bruise on her cheekbone, caused by landing face down on the floor when Goyle hit her with the Cruciatus during detention. Blankly, Draco had stared at the bruise, just blinking slowly when she muttered "detention" and then healing the mark with the same tuneful charm he had used on her before.
He hadn't looked at her since.
"I'd blame myself, and that's enough." She too examined the painting as if it were the most interesting thing in the hall. "You were sixteen when you joined You-Know-Who, weren't you? Why didn't you stay out of it?"
He shifted as if embarrassed, and Ginny didn't stop to think, any more than she thought about the way he seemed to wait for her in every shadowed hallway, or the way he never seemed to talk to anyone else, or even the way she was no longer afraid when he lifted his wand toward her face. She just inched closer, until she could feel his body heat through their school robes.
"I thought…" He swallowed audibly. "I thought I was helping my family. I thought I was fighting for everything I believe in." His open palms waffled away from his body in a strange half-gesture, as if to say Wasn't I foolish? Go ahead and laugh if you want.
She took his hand in her own instead.
"That's why I fight too." He was so still, just staring down at their entwined fingers, he didn't appear to even be breathing. "I guess we're not so different after all, Draco."
He said nothing, but when she gave his hand a squeeze, he squeezed back.
*
"Where is she, you bastard? Where did you people take Luna?"
Ginny's voice had been thick with grief, and her eyes still burned from all the tears she had shed since Luna was pulled off the Hogwarts Express. Almost as bad as the pain of her friend's abduction, however, was the idea that Malfoy had abused her trust. He had listened to her chirp about the Christmas holiday, pretended to share her relief over getting away from Snape and the Carrows and seeing family again, when all the while he may have known the Death Eaters were planning to silence Xenophilius Lovegood by targeting his beloved daughter.
I'm such a traitor. Even knowing what he is, I'm here alone with him again. Her shame fueled her rage and she pulled her wand without thinking.
"Answer me!" She was loud, too loud for this nighttime corridor, but the sight of him drove her mad. He just stood there like a marble statue, his hands limp at his sides, his eyes shut tight as if he could block out the world.
"Look at me!" Her wand clattered to the floor as she slapped him hard across the face. "Did you put her in Azkaban? Is she in some dark cellar in your precious Malfoy Manor? Where-"
"I can't tell you," he whispered. His head was still turned to one side where it had been rocked by the strength of her arm. "It's not safe for you to know."
"How…how can you do this?" Crying, Ginny grabbed both shoulders and forced him against the wall. He looked at her then, her handprint a livid blemish on his face. His own eyes were wet, and his mouth moved silently. Sorry…sorry…I'm sorry.
She hid her face against his chest so she wouldn't have to see him anymore. She could feel his bones, even through his thick winter robes. The sharp edge of his collarbone, the jut of his ribs-it was as if the war was whittling Draco down to nothing, even as his comrades grew fat and sated on their cruelty.
Boneless, Draco sank to the floor, and Ginny sank with him, half in his lap.
She kept crying. "I hate you."
His arms shook as he wrapped them around her, and she could feel his mouth moving against her hair. "Yeah. I hate me too."
*
His lips were searing hot, and his hands were everywhere.
They never spoke of trivialities anymore. No sports, no favorite foods, no happy childhood memories.
They never spoke of the war either. No Harry, no Luna. No Dark Lord, no Death Eaters.
With little left to discuss, they clung to each other instead, pressing their bodies together in the shadows or stretching out together on a teacher's desk in an abandoned classroom. There simply wasn't much to say that could not be better communicated with their bodies than with words.
If Ginny caught her own hands shaking from stress, or if she spotted Draco staring baffled around the Great Hall during dinner as if he could not believe what he saw around him was real, well, Ginny knew those weren't sufficient reasons to break their self-imposed silence.
She had done so only once, when he had given her chocolate for Valentine's Day. It was so ordinary.
"You could do something." Her voice was rough from disuse, her lips swollen from kisses.
"No, I can't." He didn't pretend to misunderstand. "I only have enough in me to be exactly what I am: a Malfoy." His lips ghosted over her ear. "You don't need my help anyway. You're stronger than I am."
*
In the wee hours of the morning in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, the day Easter hols began, she pressed her mouth over his heart and whispered she loved him, quiet enough that he could ignore it if he wanted.
He didn't.
Later, on the Hogwarts Express, feeling a not unpleasant ache in the still-sticky place between her thighs with every clickety-clack of the rails, Ginny closed her eyes and let herself rest.
*
Run. They know R is with HP.
The note, in an unfamiliar hand (had she really never seen his handwriting?) had been delivered by an unfamiliar owl while dinner's leftovers were still on the table.
She hadn't known he could be this brave.
"Ginny? Who-" her father began, but Bill Apparated into the Burrow with a loud crack and began yelling for everyone to get to Muriel's.
She had clutched the note in her hand until her father pulled it free, read it, and tossed it into the fire.
"I'm sorry, Ginny. I'm glad you've found an ally, but it's not safe to hold onto."
*
She had not seen Draco again until after the Battle of Hogwarts, after that first celebration had worn down and Minister Shacklebolt had ordered Lucius Malfoy arrested.
She had stood there, feeling as if Fred's ghost perched on her shoulder, watching Narcissa Malfoy sob and watching Draco cover his face with both hands. He looked around the room once, wildly, before finding her. The anguish on his face would have plowed furrows in her heart had it not been hardened by her brother's death. He had bitten his lip until she thought he might draw blood then taken his mother's arm and led her from the Hall without a backward glance.
It wasn't until Harry took her hand that Ginny realized he had been beside her all the time.
*
"Ginny? You in there?"
Charlie's hand waving an inch from her nose, brought Ginny back to reality.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat, looking vaguely around the office. Her tiny kingdom, she thought, and it had been carved out of the land Draco loved so much. Was Fate playing with her again?
"Sorry." She stood up and stretched, shaking her right leg a bit to get the blood flowing again. "I think," she cleared her throat, "I think your idea is a good one, Hagrid."
*
The next day, Ginny sent an owl to the Manor inviting Draco to join her in the West Barn after lunch.
She had almost given up hope when he showed up shortly before tea.
"What do you want, Miss Weasley?"
Startled, she whirled in the barn's center aisle, the gravel bedding she was levitating falling to the concrete and scattering everywhere.
She swore loudly, and three of the four dragons roared and chuffed blue-orange flame. The flames were harmlessly diffused by the wards surrounding each brood dragon's pen, but the effect-and the noise-was still startling to the uninitiated.
Great. Ginny watched Draco cringe and clap his hands over his ears. We're off to a good start.
"Draco, I'm sorry." She spoke loudly but calmly, knowing nothing would calm the dragons faster than a return to normalcy. Sure enough, Friction and Scarlet immediately subsided, leaving only Firebug, a pugnacious, newly-matured female, pacing in circles and growling. "You startled me," Ginny continued.
"What is this about?" Clad in another black shirt and pair of black trousers, Draco was almost indistinguishable from yesterday. His hair, though, was tousled by the day's high winds, and Ginny had an urge to smooth it with her fingers. "Miss Weasley?"
"Hmm?" She jumped slightly. "Oh. Well, based upon our conversation yesterday, I realized you don't know much about our daily operations down here. I thought we could spend some time together, and I'll show you around, answer your questions, that kind of thing." When he merely raised one eyebrow, she followed up with "And please call me Ginny, Draco. We didn't used to be so formal."
He cocked his head to one side, assessing her, and Ginny shivered at the feeling of déjà vu. For a moment, they could have been two frightened kids in a dark room again, instead of two adults in a brightly lit barn.
"No, I guess we weren't," he murmured. He took a deep breath and exhaled her name in a sigh, as if he had been waiting for a long time to say it again. "Ginny."
She shivered for an entirely different reason.
"Come-" Her breath caught and she cleared her throat. "Come meet Scarlet. She's queen bee around here."
Side by side, they walked to the largest pen. Ginny was comfortable, and it took her a moment to realize it was not just because she was finally walking next to someone she would always love.
It was because Draco made her feel normal.
Since her fall, Ginny's gait was choppy at best, her weakened right leg forcing her to take shorter steps and rely more strongly upon her left. Other people, even well-intentioned ones like her brothers or Harry, simply moved faster than Ginny could. She would fall behind, watch others realize it, and see them pause until she could catch up. Ginny was embarrassed by these constant start-and-stop mechanics and she couldn't help but feel it must be frustrating for others.
Draco somehow managed to adjust his gait to hers in a way that was unobtrusive and natural.
She smiled up at him and was pleased that he smiled back. Though brief, the smile transformed his face until it could almost be the face she once knew so well.
Together, they peered into Scarlet's pen. At just over 30 feet in length, covered in shining black scales and spines, and curled protectively around a glowing mauve egg, Scarlet was absolutely breathtaking. Or at least, Ginny thought so, but she could tell even Draco was impressed. Not everyone had the chance to get this close to a brooding dragon every day.
"Scarlet's a proven breeder, not an easy thing for a dragon in captivity." Ginny kept her voice just above a whisper now, but Scarlet lifted her head anyway, scrutinizing them through one brilliant purple eye. A scuffle when she was still a hatchling had marred her face with a bright red, bolt-shaped scar, costing her an eye and giving her a name. "We were thrilled when Scarlet laid an egg a month after her arrival here. We never expected it to happen so soon. She's my favorite." Ginny sighed happily, wishing again that she could pet one of her charges without losing an arm. It wouldn't do to forget Alasdair MacFusty, however…
"I'm sure she is." His tone was cool and his eyes were focused on Scarlet's scar. "It must be nice to have a dragon who reminds you of Potter. Must lessen the pain of separation while you're here and he's off being the Ministry darling."
"I don't miss Harry. Why should I? I just saw him at Ron and Hermione's over Christmas." Ginny's tone, on the other hand, was completely benign. "In fact, Harry and his girlfriend are planning to drop by next week. Luna will be writing a series about the plight of Britain's magical creatures for The Quibbler and she's focusing on the preserve for the first article."
Draco leaned back, the coiled tension in his spine seeming to dissolve with the act. "So, Potter's really dating Lovegood?"
"Yes, and they're both quite happy about it." She rested her chin against a fireproof crosspiece. "Luna's a better match for him than I was, and she can keep up with him at all those Ministry functions he has to attend." She turned and smiled at Draco again. "I'm afraid these clodhopper boots--" she lifted one foot, "-don't really go with fancy dress robes for a Ministry Ball. Since high heels would make me fall over now, I guess I've danced at my last Ministry party."
He exhaled audibly through his nose, like he would breathe fire himself if he could. "As if I needed any further evidence that Potter's an ass."
"Don't misunderstand." Her voice was still mild. "I felt bad, but it wasn't because of anything Harry said or did. He hates those events and would quit going if he could, but the Ministry and the public still need him, so he goes."
His hand on the rail was almost close enough to touch. "Why did you feel so bad, then?"
"Because there were so few ways Harry and I were truly compatible. One of them was that we could be a beautiful public couple. I could dance on his arm as his famous Quidditch star girlfriend. After the accident, there was one less way we could connect, one less reason to be together." She shrugged, not proud of the years she and Harry had wasted on each other. "Even when we were unhappy-and that was most of the time-we were a hard habit to break."
Silent, they stood together watching Scarlet close her eye and put her head back down.
"I'm sorry I was late today," he said abruptly. "My mother needed me."
"It's okay." Her smallest finger brushed against his. "Come early tomorrow, and I'll put you to work."
"Oh, joy."
*
Draco became a regular fixture at the preserve over the following month.
He fed the dragons, changed bedding, made excellent suggestions for reorganizing the supply cupboards in both barns, and when it was noted with some concern that Blackjack's flame spout was not as hot as it should be, he produced the diary of a long-dead Malfoy who had been heavily into breeding dragons for the illegal sport of dragon baiting. The tips therein for herbal supplements put the molten blue-white core back in Blackjack's flame in under a week.
On the rare days when his mother needed him and he couldn't come, Ginny missed him horribly and her workload seemed suddenly heavier.
Ginny perched on one of the low stone walls, parchment on her lap and quill in hand. On the grass in front of her, Draco lay with his hands behind his head, twirling a blade between his teeth, and watching Friction swoop silently around the flight paddock.
"…but I think the reason she's not broody is that brat Firebug." He pulled the blade from his mouth and pointed it up at Friction. "Who could think about egg-laying with that little monster always making such a ruckus in the pen next door? If we move Friction next to Scarlet or Siena instead, I predict we'll see-"
"You're a fraud," she interrupted.
"Excuse me?" He sat up, dropping his grassy pointer.
"You're a fraud, a dragon-loving fraud." Ginny pretended to make a small notation on her parchment. "Coming down here every day with your long list of complaints, when all the while you love dragons just as much as I do."
Draco turned until he could face her cross-legged. "I'm a wizard, and my name is Draco. It would be pretty pathetic if I didn't love dragons."
"Do you realize how many official complaints you've filed with the Ministry since we set up the preserve? I do because Charlie looked it up." She toed his knee until he grabbed her ankle and squeezed. "Eighty-one! That's an average of one every day and a half." Ginny reached down and brushed his soft blond hair back from his forehead. "If you like dragons, what was the problem?"
"I don't want them here." His expression darkened. "This many dangerous creatures so close to my home are not good for Mother's nerves."
"But you've seen for yourself that it's as safe as we can make it."
"I'm still not happy about it."
Disgruntled, she set her parchment and quill aside. "Why not?"
Thoughtful, he gazed up at her for a moment. "You look beautiful sitting there."
Ginny blushed. It had been a very long time since Draco had last called her beautiful. When he held out his hand, she took it, and was surprised when he flattened it to the ancient wall and covered it with his own.
"Centuries ago, when the first Malfoys moved here, they made their home down here in this little valley." He looked past her, a light in his eyes as if he was seeing a vision far different than the modern buildings before him. "It was quiet and peaceful, and I'm sure it was beautiful. Being out of the way made concealing our presence from the local Muggles that much easier. Eventually, we were sick of hiding and built a new Manor on the hill, but this place was our beginning. These stones-" still hand in hand, they caressed the wall together "-are all that remain of the original keep. I couldn't prevent the Ministry from taking over, but I appealed to the Historic Division to protect these walls, and that's why you were instructed not to disturb them."
Draco brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the tips of her fingers, gritty from the stone. She felt a pang, knowing she had considered these walls an annoyance to work around when they were a vital part of Draco's history. No wonder he hated having the preserve here.
"This is why I fought you so hard," he said, confirming her thoughts. "To you, this is a safe place for your dragons. To me, these rocks are my bones, this land's my heart, and the breeze that blows through your hair is my breath. So yeah, I like dragons, but I love this patch of earth more."
He brushed away a tear she had not realized she'd shed and cupped her cheek.
"We have nowhere else to go," she said simply. "We were lucky to be sent here."
"I was lucky then too." His thumb traced her lips. "I always wanted to see you here, sitting on these walls, living on this land. And though I know I'm betraying my ancestors, if I have to accept dragons to have you here, then accept them I will."
And when he kissed her, Ginny could have sworn the previously silent dragon flying above them roared in triumph.
Part 3