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sugarbear_1269

Author's Note: Sorry this is taking so long to write. Thanks to all of you who are still reading! Just so you know, we're going to have some major action in the next 2-4 chapters, so I promise this is leading up to something. As always, thanks to my betas where_is_truth and rainpuddle13 for their tireless work and wonderful suggestions.

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***

February came to a close with snarling winter winds and no visible promise of Spring. Of course, Draco was just a teensy bit in trouble for forgetting Valentine's Day. He remedied that a week later with the gift of both their birth control potions and a picnic in the Room of Requirement, which somehow knew they needed warm sun and warm breezes. They'd fallen asleep holding one another in the cozy atmosphere and awoke feeling refreshed and strangely sated.

March continued to feel like February for the first two weeks.

It was during this time that Draco had six lessons with Snape in resisting the Imperius curse. He was now able to throw off his mentor's will in less than ten minutes. Snape was pleased with Draco's progress.

"Tonight, Mr. Malfoy, we will break from your Imperius studies," Snape said, watching his pupil carefully for outward signs of protest. He was pleased when he saw none, not even a quirking of the eyebrow. Draco had worked hard to perfect the blank face and even blanker mind and Snape thought he was doing very well, considering the stress and brevity of his training time.

"Very well, Professor. What shall I do?" Draco asked blandly. Snape prowled about the classroom, gathering his wand and a strip of cloth for a blindfold.

"Remember that the Death Eater is fundamentally a coward who works under the cover of night. I want you to put on this blindfold and stand here. You will stand still until you think you hear my movements, and then you are to move in the direction you think I am. You will only hear me speak the curse, nothing else. Do you understand?"

Draco nodded, cringing ever so slightly. He could not recall a single event or combination thereof that would even remotely compare with what he was about to experience. Although, perhaps if he kept his mind empty, the pain wouldn't be as bad if he didn't, or couldn't, focus on it.

He folded the black square of cloth Snape had given him into a thin strip that wouldn't interfere with his hearing. If there was something he prided himself on, it was his hearing. Like when he and Ginny were together, he could hear her barely whispered instructions and endearments…

"I'm warning you, Malfoy!" Snape said, disgusted. "Shut off your mind this instant!" Draco obeyed, and stood tall with his hands dangling at his sides.

It was many minutes before he heard even the slightest rustle of Snape's robes. Draco froze, trying to force all his intellect into discerning the direction and distance from which the sound had come. He strained to hear it again.

Finally a snippet of sound circled the shell of his ear and delicately dropped in. Back, and to the left. That was it! Back, and to the left. He turned toward the sound and began walking blindly, trying to gain some sense of his surroundings, an aural clue that would create some bearings. But there were none. Snape's robes didn't even swish, at least not audibly. Draco found himself walking in what he thought to be a lopsided circle.

Snape walked side by side with his pupil, watching Draco's face intently. Snape never failed to be amazed by exercises in sound, and how it could be so deceptive. It had only been ten minutes since this odd dance began, but Snape felt it was time to test Draco well. He turned and walked away from Draco. Draco turned around, obviously attempting an exact circle. He stopped just short and began to walk again, walking now in a smaller circle opposite Snape. They passed one another, his head moving this way and that, desperately straining to hear anything that could give him a clue.

It wasn't until the hissed "Crucio!" came from Snape's lips that Draco realized he was less than three feet away and facing his professor.

***

The scream that pierced the air could well indeed have been from a small girl. The force of the pain assailed Draco's senses and there was no part of his body untouched. His fingers and toes burned as if on fire, his eyes were dry and gritty, while his torso felt like thin rods of nearly-molten steel were being pushed though him as if he were no more than a pincushion.

Now on his knees, Draco felt phantom cuts open on his skin; hair being ripped from their roots; tears dripping openly down his face and into nonexistent gashes that stung with the salt of them. His chest was being compressed, he was sure of it, and he gasped for breath, retching dryly. Bones were popping out of place now, his cheekbones crushed by magic fists.

After the last scream died on his lips, Draco crumpled to the floor in a huddle and lost consciousness.

***

Draco awoke to a cool cloth being pressed against his forehead and a vile-smelling substance under his nose. Snape hovered over him, obviously pleased.

"Congratulations, Mr. Malfoy. You've lasted the longest on your first try of any person I've ever taught. You were conscious for perhaps seven minutes. Bravo."

Draco's eyes rolled back in his head as he briefly considered fainting again.

His next words froze Snape as no one else's ever had.

"Is that… that pain…is that what the Longbottoms felt when my aunt tortured them?" Draco rasped.

Snape didn't speak for a long time, only watched as Draco struggled unaided to his feet and to a nearby chair. Draco touched his face, pulled up his shirt, touched his hair to make sure it was all there and intact. Snape pondered his next words, knowing they were true, knowing they were harsh, even by his standards.

"Mr. Malfoy, what the Longbottoms were made to endure by your aunt lasted for days and was fifty times worse. No one is quite sure how they managed to survive. To be sure, perhaps no other family of wands has caused so much torture and despair as that of the Malfoy-Black."

Stunned and rooted to the spot, Draco could barely process what his professor, his godfather, had just said. It was unthinkable that his family could have caused so much death and destruction.

"More than Voldemort?" Draco choked, feeling his throat closing.

"Certainly more than Voldemort himself has tortured or killed, and dozens more by his orders."

For a split second, one question burned brightly in his mind and he almost dared not ask it. Snape was the only person he knew who might tell him the truth, no matter how hard it might be to hear it.

"Please tell me, Professor, that my mother never did these things. I know she married a Malfoy, and it was her sister who did those things, but she didn't, did she?" Draco asked, almost pleading for the answer.

Snape's eyes took on a rare, contemplative look. He waited many moments before speaking again.

"Your mother never participated in any of the activities her family took delight in. She hated your father's singular drive and how he was sure to force you to become a Death Eater. She wanted so much more for you, and she was incapable of giving it. Your father made sure of that." A cold light glittered in his eyes and Draco could not recall any instance in which Snape had been so forthcoming or emotional.

"You speak as though you knew her well," Draco said as conversationally as he could, wishing to know more about his mother, more about his family from a perspective that no one else enjoyed.

"I knew her well enough to tell you those things with absolute certainty." Snape's tone changed, allowing no room for further questioning. "You are finished here for tonight. I will see you again Monday evening."

***

Lucius eyed the Daily Prophet with a snide smile.

Augusta Doral, 38, died early Monday morning in a vicious attack that can only be attributed to Death Eaters.

Her body was found prone and twisted into an unnatural shape by her husband, Idlewold Doral, near the edge of their property in Ottery-St. Catchpole. Mrs. Doral had gone out to tend their prized Nifflers and was gone longer than usual.

Neighbor and Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Officer Arthur Weasley, expressed his fears and condolences.

"We are shocked that such a horrible crime could have been committed this close to homes without anyone noticing. It is apparent now that Aurors must not only search for Death Eaters in London, but in the smaller towns too. The community here in Ottery-St. Catchpole extends its condolences to Mr. Doral and his family. We will be organizing a patrol to see that this sort of crime cannot happen again."

Aurors are currently investigating the crime. Kingsley Shacklebolt, 1995 Auror of the Year, and his partner, Nymphadora Tonks, are handling inquiries and gathering evidence. If you have any information relating to this crime, please owl the Ministry of Magic office immediately or Apparate to the offices. The Ministry Floo network is currently down due to grate refurbishment.

A Celebration of Life is to be held tomorrow at the Doral cottage in Ottery-St. Catchpole. Friends and family are encouraged to attend.

The simple obituary in the Daily Prophet neglected to mention that Mrs. Doral and her husband were not only neighbors to the Weasleys, but also members of the Order of the Phoenix. Lucius smiled wickedly. The preliminary assignments were being handed in. Not that he still had one, of course. He was focused on quite a different target, thanks to his gracious and wise Lord Voldemort.

***

It was with some surprise that Ginny realized it was the last week of March, and Draco's birthday would be coming soon.

What to do for him? Draco would be nineteen on the 8th of April. Obviously some sort of gift, but there needed to be something else. Her mind flitted over a beautiful wand care kit sold in the Ollivander's catalogue.

She cut out the order form from the back and filled in the necessary information, which included the name of the recipient and if applicable their house in Hogwarts. The kit would set her back seven Galleons, but she'd earned three times that amount by handing out flyers the twins owled her. She did really love them sometimes.

Did she need another gift? Yes, probably. The last time she'd visited Flourish and Blotts she saw dragon leather carryalls that could be embossed with monograms. Then suddenly, achingly, it occurred to her she didn't even know his middle name. Merlin, he didn't know hers. How could they have been together this long and not asked these ridiculous but necessary questions of one another?

It was time to plan something.

By the end of the week, she had received the wand kit from Ollivander's and the stately leather carryall. The carryall had a bold silver DM monogram and was accompanied by a note saying Flourish and Blotts had taken the time to consult with Madam Malkin's shop to find out Draco's measurements so they could customize the straps, free of charge. Ginny was heartened her gift would be that much more personal.

She'd also secured a place for them in Hogsmeade. The twins maintained a flat there and she'd successfully lobbied them to allow her and Draco to spend the night on the Hogsmeade weekend that followed his birthday. The twins agreed to spend a rare weekend at the Burrow. Of course, as randy as those two blokes were, they could probably sympathize with needing a place to shag.

They'd promised to clean up and take off any prank wards or charms that might be lying about. In return for their secrecy and generosity, Ginny promised to do inventory for them in the summer after graduation. The twins had been hinting not-so-subtly that they could really use her help in keeping the store's affairs straight. They had been trying to bribe her with a higher salary than she could get as an apprentice medi-witch.

Now all she had to do was get Draco there without creating suspicion.

***

All he wanted to do was quit the exhausting curse-resisting training with Snape. Good gods, he knew it was for the best, but did he have to suffer so? The pain and fear the real recipients experienced must have been indescribable. He was growing stronger against both curses, but was considerably better at the Imperius. Snape was now teaching him to use his growing control over his own mind to help escape the horrifying Cruciatus. The little bit he'd been able to use tonight had helped some. In fact, once he realized he bore no physical scars after the first bout with the Cruciatus, he was less afraid. But he knew in his heart the chances were high someone could throw a much stronger curse on him, he might not be able to fight off. He was close to asking Snape for a vacation.

He dragged himself to his quarters later than usual that evening. Lying naked on his bed, he ignored the ever-present chill and merely pondered life. How had he come to this?

A Malfoy shagging a Weasley. A Malfoy turned against his father. A Malfoy defying Lord Voldemort. A Malfoy working for the light, he thought. It really was profound, he mused, when it was boiled down to the bare facts.

And being stuck at Hogwarts. It wasn't like school, where he had the opportunity to go outside and have free time and be with his Slytherin companions. It really was work. He was still obligated to the Ministry, and spent the bulk of his day owling reports or flooing to Diagon Alley for a short lunch break in Muggle London. In between this ridiculously boring work, he had to make time for Snape's lessons and of course, time to sleep. And then there was Ginny time, but she was immersed in her studies and he was bone-tired most always.

Which was why he was surprised when a soft knock interrupted his musings. He was not expecting anyone, and it was far past the hour when even a student would dare to venture out.

"Just a moment, please," Draco said loudly, reaching for a pair of pants and his wand. "Enter!"

The door opened quickly and Ginny slipped inside, looking unusually somber. Draco breathed a sigh of relief.

"Gin, is something wrong?" he asked, hurrying to her. She didn't speak, instead burrowed into his embrace.

"No," she said, her voice muffled by his shoulder. "Nothing is wrong, exactly. I just wanted to come down here and hug you. To say hello, you know, since we've barely even passed one another for the last few days."

It was rather nice to be missed by someone. He held her for a few minutes longer, soaking in her scent and her warmth. She pulled away, bestowing a light kiss on his neck.

"I didn't come down here for…" she trailed off, stopping only when she saw his odd expression. "Is something the matter, Draco?" He shook his head, thinking slowly.

"Would you stay down here, Princess?" he asked, appearing wearier than his almost nineteen years. When Draco made no overtly sexual move to entice her to stay, Ginny realized perhaps they both just needed the comfort of being close to one another.

"You'll have to cast a timing spell," she said, slipping her hand into his. He nodded, and with his wand charmed his favorite quill to tickle Ginny's nose five hours hence, when it would be time for her to rise in the morning.

Only after they were holding one another and wrapped in his heavy, soft bedcovers did either speak.

"I'm glad you came down here, actually," Draco said quietly, content to keep their words confined to his bed. He pressed a kiss on her shoulder.

"I just felt like you needed someone tonight," she said, as if puzzled by her own thoughts. "There are times when I fancy I know what you're thinking. And I wanted to be near you."

"Whatever sixth sense you may have, I'm thrilled about it," he said, settling himself deeper into the mattress. "I feel more relaxed when you're here." She tucked his arms around her waist, twining her fingers with his.

"I also came to ask you a question."

"And what's that?"

"I wondered if you might accompany me to Hogsmeade this weekend," she said, sounding stiffly formal to her own ears and silently berating herself for it.

"Hmmm. Won't that be a bit noticeable?" Draco asked, massaging her stomach the way he knew she liked.

Bah! She didn't want to have to give away her plans.

"Well, I am allowed to stay overnight. And I'm sure Professor McGonagall wouldn't have any qualms about me spending time with my dear twin brothers who just happen to have a flat in Hogsmeade," Ginny lilted softly, hoping to entice him with just that. Unfortunately, even at one in the morning, he was still a tough customer.

"Let me make sure I understand. You're asking me to meet you clandestinely in Hogsmeade, stay in your brothers' flat, and not be able to touch you because I know they're in the next room? You torture me, my lady, it's simply torture."

She shifted enough to punch him lightly in the chest.

"Of course not, you silly prat. They don't actually live there, they just have a place in Hogsmeade. And instead of visiting for the weekend as they usually do, they've graciously agreed to visit Mum and Dad at the Burrow." Draco was now even more incredulous.

"So they know we're coming? Together? The two of us?" Draco asked unbelievingly.

"Well, we've never come exactly together, my lusty dragon, but to answer your question, they do know and have been amazingly accommodating," Ginny said, giggling at her joke.

"Don't say such things. One moment I'm envisioning us, ahem, coming together, and then you reintroduce your brothers. Give me a sentence or two in which to recover, all right?"

"Does this mean you'll find a way to come to Hogsmeade?" she asked, putting a note of pleading into her voice that was sure to entice him.

"I will," he said, thinking that a day away would be welcome. "And as much as it pains me to say this, can we just sleep now?"

***

Ginny kept quiet on his actual birthday. No cards, no owls, no sweets disbursed by Dobby in her name. She concentrated on packing a small valise and setting a meeting time with McGonagall to request that she be allowed to stay with her brothers.

Some time later on that pleasantly warm Friday, Ginny cornered her head of house outside the Transfiguration classroom.

"Professor, if I might have a word with you?" Ginny asked sweetly. Minerva McGonagall smiled beatifically at the youngest Weasley, who never caused trouble and would one day recognize herself as a distinct, talented part of her huge family.

"Of course, Miss Weasley, let us go to my office." Ginny followed the professor down a flight of stairs and to a brightly lit alcove not far from the entrance to Gryffindor Tower.

"Please, have a seat," McGonagall said. "What is it you wished to ask me?"

"Professor, I wondered if I might be excused from staying at the inn this weekend in Hogsmeade. My brothers keep a flat there and have asked if I could stay with them," Ginny said, her eyes hopeful. The wise but wrinkled witch took her time in answering.

"I suppose it can be arranged, Miss Weasley. You will be responsible for checking in with me before you leave for the evening and again Sunday morning before the carriages leave. Is that clear?" McGonagall asked.

"Crystal. Thank you, Professor. I so rarely get to visit with the twins," Ginny said, her face lighting up with a smile. McGonagall returned the easy grin, and watched as Ginny prepared to leave.

"One last thing, Miss Weasley. Madam Pomfrey tells me that you are making the topmost marks in her Advanced Healing class. She is very pleased with your work, and says that you are far more advanced than even the course description calls for. I think," McGonagall said, eyeing her carefully, "that you may have found your niche."