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Title: Halloween Behind a Shed
Author's Note: In which Draco acts like Percy, and Ginny is intrigued about the Shrieking Shack.
"I'll eat my shoes if your ghostly butler is scarier than our ghoul," declared seven-year-old Ginny fearlessly. The strange boy wandering near the village inn, turned his nose up at her.
"Well, I've heard all about the Weasleys. Mother says you don't even have the class to put up a real scare for the Muggles on Halloween."
"Dad says Muggle-baiting is illegal," said Ginny quietly.
"Well, it would have been a sport if my Great-Aunt Black had her way in the Wizengamot."
"I think that's disgusting."
The boy appraised her with a flick of his gaze. "You're a Weasley," he drawled. "What would you know about these things anyway?"
"I know that people are people," she said defiantly under his contempt, "even if they're a Weasley, or a Muggle, or a ... a ... whatever you are."
His eyebrows rose in eyebrows. "My word! You really have no idea who I am, do you?" And he didn't understand why this seemed to bother him, the first of many tiny pricks at his ego. "Well, you are just a Weasley, I wouldn't expect you to know, anyway."
Ginny patiently waited for his Percy-like pompousness to subside.
"Say, what are you doing out here by yourself? Where are your hordes of other siblings tonight?"
"Fred and George are giving Ron and the Muggles down the hill what they call a real Halloween." Her nose wrinkled. "And Percy is trying to stop them."
The boy nodded contemplatively. "Sounds interesting. If it scares the Muggles, I certainly want to be there."
"Do you want to join me?" she asked him at once.
"Merlin's pants, no!" exclaimed the boy, too quickly. "A Weasley
"Well, it's not worse than your Halloween or you wouldn't be here, would you?" she guessed shrewdly, pinning with him with a smug smile she'd copied off him.
"Father's friends are at the Manor," said the boy in an attempted casual voice. "They keep talking about my mad aunt Bella and things called Dementors."
"What are Dementoids?"
"Dementors. I asked Mother about them, and she said they were making sure Aunt Bella was having a terrible time tonight. I didn't understand what most of the grown-ups were talking about up there, but the atmosphere was stifling, and so I left." He shivered in the nippy autumn night, drawing the sleeves of his coat down. "Say, when you're older, we'll go to Hogsmeade one day. I'll show you the Shrieking Shack. I bet that'll give you a real scare."
Ginny was interrupted by the sound of a woman calling. "Draco? Draco!" The boy started guiltily. "I have to go."
"But wait, you haven't told me—"
"I'll take you there," said the boy, pushing her away from him and out of sight. "You can't be seen—"
"Do you promise?"
"Yes, yes— go."
Ginny smiled, and turned away. "Happy Halloween, Draco," she called over her shoulder as she tottered away.
Warnings: Torture and other bloody things.
Author's notes: I don't really do horror movies. However, I have seen 'Silence of the Lambs,' so that is where I found the inspiration for this drabble. This is set in an AU where Harry died at Hogwarts and the war continued on.
Ginny had no recollection of how long she'd been bound in her current position, feet shackled to the spindly wooden chair. Her arms were bound above her head, pulling her just high enough so that she dangled over the seat. How long... how many weeks? Months? How much time had passed since the Death Eaters had attacke the Order's safe house?
And most importantly, where was Draco?
"Good evening, Ginevra."
She flinched at the sound of that voice, one that had grown too familiar during her captivity. Bellatrix. Her eyes fluttered open, hazy vision struggling to focus on the deranged woman standing in front of the dungeon door. Her dark eyes- Black eyes, Draco had called them- were surprisingly lucid.
A lucid Bellatrix, in full possession of all her capacities, was even more terrifying than an insane Bellatrix.
The older woman smile, giving her that Cheshire cat grin that sent chills down her spine. "You moan my nephew's name in your sleep, did you know? Draco," she imitated, molding her seductive rasp into an imitation of Ginny's tone.
Ginny squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block it out, but the acoustics of the cell were against her. Bellatrix was all around her, her voice and scent permeating Ginny's every sense.
"Come now, Ginevra, play nicely." Bellatrix's voice was suddenly in her ear, making Ginny shudder in fear when she felt her hot breath. "You used to scream so beautifully for me, don't you remember?"
Oh, did she remember. She'd screamed long after her voice had left her, her throat raw from hours of torture. The Cruciatus Curse, followed by even more painful ones, designed to make her believe her flesh had been stripped from her bones and burned in front of her eyes. Oh, had she screamed.
Lips curling upwards, Bellatrix pulled out a knife, the silver blade glinting in the torchlight. "If you won't scream, you will still bleed for me."
Swiftly, she ran the point down the side of Ginny's face, slicing the skin from her temple to her chin. Pain laced through her veins as the blood dripped down, falling to the floor in a pitter-patter.
Bellatrix let out a girlish giggle. "Oh, you do bleed so beautifully." Leaning in, she pressed her tongue to the wound, humming in pleasure at the coppery taste of Ginny's blood.
"It's a pity Draco couldn't join us." At the mention of her lover's name, Ginny's eyes flew open, glancing wildly at her tormentor. Draco.
The other woman smiled at her, licking the blood off her lips before she continued. "Sadly, I've an appointment to keep, but I promised that I'd let Draco keep an eye on you." As she spoke, she reached into her pocket and withdrew something small, placing it the crux of Ginny's thighs. "Until tomorrow."
If Ginny had thought she could no longer scream, nothing prepared her for the shock that wrenched one last bloodcurdling scream from her throat.
In her lap lay Draco's bloody eye.
Title: Say Goodbye
Warnings: UST, death, angst, violence
Author's Notes: Rule one when trying to survive a horror film: Never run upstairs.
Ginny Weasley pressed the palms of her hands harder against her heart as if to silence the pounding rush of blood. Squeezing her eyes shut she held her breath and waited, the footsteps drawing near. She could see her wand lying on the kitchen floor, miles away for all the use it was to her here, under Sirius‘ old bed, the end of the line. She swallowed the bile in her throat and knew her death was imminent. She felt a coward, running from the fray after she’d watched everyone she loved fall, one by one, helpless. She could still hear Harry screaming at her to run, Hermione crying out in pain before she crumpled to the floor at the foot of the Death Eater who’d slain her. She could feel her mother’s hands pushing her up the stairs, felt them fall away in a flash of green.
And now it was her turn. There was no where to go, no one to turn to. The Death Eaters had broken into Headquarters so suddenly, so unexpectedly they hadn’t even had a chance to fight back.
The door inched open, creaking, the sound magnified in the eerily silent house. Ginny clapped her hands over her mouth now to keep herself from screaming. She watched the expensive dragon hide boots close the distance on her life.
They stopped right next to her head. She didn’t dare to breathe.
The hand shot out of no where and grabbed her hair, dragging her out. Ginny couldn’t hold back a terrified cry as she was pulled to the wall and slammed against it, stars breaking out across her vision.
“So, now ends the Weaslette,” a drawling and all-too-familiar voice said. One long-fingered hand reached up and peeled off his silver mask, pushing back the hood of his cloak at the same time.
“You,” she ground out.
“Did you expect anyone else, my love?” He leaned in, his hard body pressing her against the wall, his lips coming down to caress her jaw. She shuddered, hating the reaction of her body even now, knowing he had betrayed her.
“I trusted you,” she whispered. “You promised-”
“Shh,” he hushed her gently. He clasped her hands and drew them over her head and rested his forehead above hers. “It will all be over soon. Take a breath and say goodbye.”
It was then that Ginny heard the pounding of a dozen feet beating up the stairs. Her terrified eyes met his and he smiled, the one that had melted her heart from the beginning. She could see the pain in his steely grey eyes, but also a calm acceptance.
She jerked when the door flew across the room and he pressed closer, clasping her hands tighter, his lips claiming hers one last time and she knew.
He was going with her.
Author: <>lj user=devinecancerian>
Title: One Fear
Author's Notes: My first draft was 229 words over the limit, it took ages to cut down.
The door slammed behind the satisfied Death Eater, leaving its two occupants in the dark. The man chained to the wall and the woman strewn across the floor.
“You are an enigma.”
Ginny looked at him through her hair and he continued.
“You’re not afraid of them.”
Ginny forced herself up, crawling to the closest wall and collapsing against it.
“Are you afraid of anything, Weasley?”
She was silent, thinking. They’d made a pact to keep up conversation for their sanity, but over time they’d found themselves telling each other the truth far more often.
So Ginny told the truth.
“Yes. But he’s gone.”
Draco raised an eyebrow, curious.
“May I ask who?” he asked.
Ginny nodded and brushed her hair out of her face. She’d managed to sit in the only spot in the room illuminated by outside light.
“Thomas Riddle. He always had me call him ‘Tom’ like we were friends. The
Cruciatus bored him. Too simple, he said.”
The words floated out slowly as she remembered; light in the air but
falling heavy in the room.
“He liked to play games with your feelings. Said it wounded deeper than any curse could... He didn’t forgo conventional means though... he gave me this,” she said pulling her tattered robe aside. A black scar cut across her collar bone, running into her robe and behind her back.
She let her hand fall away and the silence settle as Draco processed the information. He had only one question.
“Who is Thomas Riddle?” he asked. She looked up, truly terrified.
“The Dark Lord Voldemort.”
Their escape was the work of Slytherins, not Gryffindors. The mutiny of the youngest Death Eaters had been kept quiet but they’d persisted.
When Blaise flung open their cell door and pulled Draco to his feet, Draco had said they couldn’t leave her behind. Blaise had been surprised but said nothing; they didn’t have time to argue.
They escaped. But only just. Draco added another scar to his collection and Ginny had earned another black scar from Voldemort, wrapping around her forearm in a thin band.
The stronghold of the Slytherin resistance was a small hut. There they’d immediately been given to Pansy and Narcissa, long escaped from the halls of Malfoy Manor, who’d done the best they could to repair the physical damage of the dungeons.
It wasn’t until hours later, left along in a small room with two cots, shivering in the cold that Ginny looked across the tiny room and spoke over the howling wind to say thank you.
Her eyes were shining with tears and her voice wavered, as though she were shocked that he’d thought of her. He only nodded before getting up and laying his own thin blanket atop hers.
Again, she looked surprised and he made to return to his own cot when her icy hand caught his. Without speaking she pulled him down onto the bed with her. They curled up under the blankets together and fell asleep.
Title: Hell Hath No Fury
Words: 383 words
Author's Notes: Static on the radio freaks me out. Slight AU.
"And I wonder where she will stay, my little runaway -"
The kitchen wireless was blue and grey, which Ginny really loved. She was ironing. She'd been home for a while now, getting used to the idea that she wasn't to strain herself now that she was pregnant. Ironing helped take her mind off things, helped her not worry about stretch-marks and how many times she needed to have her dress fitted and what sort of foods she should be having.
Draco hated it just as much as she did.
Not the fact that they were going to have a baby - no, he rather liked that - but all the things that came with. He was surprisingly gallant; carrying things for her, insisting she take time off work and what not. Ginny really, really hated him for it. This morning, she'd tossed the newest set of dishes he got her just yesterday at his head. The radio crackled. Ginny looked up, waddling over to it carefully and twisting the knobs.
"A run-run-run-run - I can dream about you, if I can't - that awful sound, bang bang -"
Ginny smacked her hand flatly on the wireless when the knob turning didn't help, but it was stuck and kept repeating "I used to shoot you down -"
And then suddenly, someone was standing next to her.
"Move," the person said, and Ginny froze, wondering why she wasn't doing what he was saying and why she wasn't more scared of the cold metal against her throat.
"Bang," the person repeated and Ginny made to turn her head towards him. Keys turned the lock on the front door and then Draco was calling out for her. Before she knew it, there was a sharp bang and she was bleeding - that was strange, wasn't it, she shouldn't be bleeding just yet - and then everything faded to black.
Draco heard the bang and hurried in, wand drawn. The stranger turned to him, a manic glint in his eye, blood all over his face. "I knew I'd find you," Harry Potter said, laughing.
"You know, I really, really don't like to share," and then fired the gun in his hands.
Warnings: None. Blatant Rip-off
Author's Notes: Inspired by the movie Misery. According to the Misery movie Wikipedia page, it is a psychological horror, so that’s what I did…with a twist.
A clap of thunder jolted Draco from fitful sleep. Branches scratching against the window and howling wind chilled Draco to the bone. Slowly opening his eyes, he realized that like every day before this one, there would be no relief from the pain. The last time Draco felt like this, he was at the mercy of the Dark Lord’s Cruciatus. Now it was a five-foot-three-inch redhead and her wand.
With a groan, he tried sitting upright to find a comfortable spot for his leg. Four broken ribs and one broken leg was not how he wanted to die. And that’s precisely what the little redhead had in store for him. He had no idea how or why she managed to take him from St. Mungo’s, but he was pretty sure his death was her first priority. As he looked around taking in the appearance of the room that has been his prison for the last however many days, his ‘warden’ walked in, carrying a tray containing what could hardly be called food.
“If you want me dead, why do you bother feeding me?”
“Where would the fun be for me if you starved?” Ginny Weasley said, with a glare before walking towards him with the tray.
“I still don’t understand why you want me dead. I haven’t seen your family besides Potter in years. Why now?”
“Because he won’t leave me ALONE!!!” she screamed the last word when she dropped the tray on his lap.
“SHUT UP! SHUT UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE!” she screamed again and hit Draco’s broken leg .
Draco screamed as blinding pain ran up his leg and into his very soul.
“Shut up, I wasn’t talking to you,” she said pointing at him then continued talking to no one.
“Tom, it’s because of him and his kind that you’re here; if I get rid of him, you’ll go too,” Ginny said as if in a trance.
Draco was now completely confused, and if he was honest with himself, terrified. What did she want with him? Who is Tom? Was this another inheritance from dear dead dad? He was going to lose his life to a crazy redhead because his father bet on black.
“SHUT UP!” with that she slapped him in the head with the metal tray.
The last thing Draco saw was an angry Ginny Weasley with piercing red eyes. Then everything went black.
Star Seeker Still Missing: Day 22.
By: Rita Skeeter
The search is still on for Falmouth Falcons’ star Seeker Draco Malfoy, who disappeared from his private room at St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, following his admittance for near fatal injuries sustained in the now infamous quidditch match against Puddlemere United. Sources at the Ministry of Magic confirm that they are no closer to finding Mr. Malfoy than they were twenty-two days ago. Will he be dead or alive? This reporter will be right here for you, with news as it unfolds.
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