Devils and Dust

Chapter six

When I can look life in the eyes, grown calm and very coldly wise, life will have given me the truth, and taken in exchange - my youth -Sara Teasdale


They apparated to the spot just at the edge of the forbidden forest, as it was impossible to apparate directly into hogwarts. It took them both a minute to orient themselves, but thankfully Draco recovered first.

He let go of her and quickly stepped out of striking distance. After all she was very emotional damaged at the moment and he’d just seen her cut his father’s head almost completely off.

The thought of his father’s death didn’t disturb him nearly as much as he’d thought it would, but he was still glad that he hadn’t had to do it himself. She’d saved him from that at least, and now he was indebted to her.

Still a safe distance away, he took off his cloak and handed it to her. It was early November and the wind was sure to chill her naked skin. He didn’t want to have to add hypothermia to the list of traumas she’d suffered.

She took the cloak from him and settled it over her in an automatic reaction to the cold. But when she looked over his shoulder and saw Hogwarts in the distance, the anger that had dulled and faded came rushing back in full force.

“ I told you that I wasn’t going back to Hogwarts. Why did you bring me here?”

“Please try not to gush so much with gratitude. It was really nothing. I risk my life for people all the time,” he dead-panned.

The comment startled her enough to have some of the anger fading. He had rescued her, she supposed she should feel grateful. But the only emotion she could seem to summon was anger.

“I don’t want to be here,’ she said quietly, and a hint of the great chasm of pain that was hiding behind the anger slipped through.

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I know. But you’ve been through a very traumatic experience and you aren’t thinking clearly right now. Besides, where would you go? You can’t be more than sixteen. You’re still a minor.”

“I’m fifteen,” she said absently. She hadn’t really thought about where she would go. She had no money and no wand. Hogwarts was the only place she wanted to go truly. With it’s apparition barrier and it’s thick stone walls it was the safest place she could be. She had no desire to ever return to the burrow. It wasn’t safe anymore.

But it was the thought of the people within Hogwarts that made her cringe. She didn’t want to see them. She’d suffered so much pain, and she knew it would be nothing compared to seeing them again.

She could always run away, but she didn’t have the energy. She was just so tired. All she wanted was to rest. And in Hogwarts she could rest.

“Alright I’ll go. But I don’t want to see them. I don’t want to see any of them.”

He didn’t have to ask who ‘they’ were. But he also knew that she’d have to see them eventually.

“I can’t promise that. I can tell Madam Pomphrey that you don’t want any visitors, but I can’t guarantee that will keep them away. You know how they are when they set their minds to something.”

He saw her stiffen and he wondered what he’d said wrong.

“Yes when they truly want something nothing can stop them,” she said bitterly.

“Listen, I know that they didn’t rescue you themselves but there was no way they could have. They had no way to find out where you were. It should tell you something that they came to me, someone they despise. They care about you.”

He hated to do anything nice for the Trio but he knew that Ginny needed to heal, and she wouldn’t until she let go of this anger.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said sharply, pulling the cloak more tightly around her. “And I’m not going to the hospital wing.”

“You have to go to the hospital wing, you’re...injured. And if you don’t let me take you then Dumbledore will just make you go when you see him.”

“No hospital wing. But I suppose I do have to see the headmaster.” She frowned and rubbed her fingers between her eyebrows as if trying to chase away a headache. “And if I’m still hurt he will make me go to the hospital wing.”

She continued to rub her head until suddenly a thought had her eyes snapping to meet his. “You can heal me.”

He took a step back and waved his hands in front of him.“I can’t heal you. I’m only a sixth year for merlin’s sake, and I don’t even take medical classes!”

“With a father like Lucius I’m sure you learned early enough how to do elementary healing spells,” she countered flatly.

He opened his mouth to argue further but she interrupted him.

“I don’t want them to know. Any of them. And if she heals me she’ll know, then they’ll all know. I just want to put it all behind me.”

There were no tears in her eyes, but there was such desperation and sadness that he couldn’t say no.

“Alright. I’ll heal you. And I won’t say anything now, but you’ll have to tell them eventually.”

She just stared at him, and he sighed and took out his wand.

“Stubborn Weasleys,” he muttered under his breath.

“I’ll have to look at the...injury, closely. And I’ll have to touch it with my wand.” He took a deep breath, his fingers grasping and releasing his wand nervously. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have Madam Pomphrey do this? Wouldn’t you be more comfortable with a woman?”

She let out what might be described as a laugh, but there was no humor in it. “I’m more used to a man’s touch than a woman’s. Just do it.”

When he still looked like he was having doubts, she reached forward and grabbed his hand, although it cost her to do it. She didn’t want to touch him, or anyone. And she certainly didn’t want to be touched, but it had to be done.

She couldn’t stand the pitying looks and the questions if everyone knew. She didn’t want to go over what had happened, she just wanted to forget it. Bury it as deeply within her mind as she could.

“Please, I..I couldn’t handle it if people knew. I just...couldn’t handle it,” she whispered and there was desperation in her voice.

“Alright, I’ll do it. But if you want me to stop, just tell me and I will.”

She nodded her head and opened the cloak.

He concentrated first on the carving on her chest, the cuts were shallow and it wasn’t quite so personal a place as the other.

But the cuts were healed quickly and now he had no choice but to kneel in front of her and see the damage he’d felt earlier. He took a deep breath and studied the injury. It was a small tear, but the skin there was very delicate and it would take a more advanced spell to heal it.

He racked his brain for something suitable, using this as an excuse to look away. He felt like he was violating her somehow and it made him feel like his father.

Finally he remembered a spell that he’d learned at the end of last year, and gritting his teeth he turned his eyes back to the wound. With the greatest care he could muster he touched the end of his wand lightly to the injured skin and said the spell.

It worked within a few seconds and he kept his eyes firmly on it to make sure it healed completely. To think that such damage could be erased so quickly, it made him feel worse than before. Because he knew that while the outward evidence had disappeared, the scars she bore within her were permanent.

He rose swiftly to his feet and closed his cloak back around her. It took him a moment but he finally drew up the courage to look her in the eye.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for what he did to you,” he whispered.

She wrapped the cloak tighter around her and her flat eyes met his. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t hurt me, he did. And I’ve repayed him. He’ll never hurt me or anyone else ever again.”

She took a deep breath and turned towards the castle.

“I’m ready now. Let’s go,” she stated firmly and headed off in the direction of the castle.




They had barely made it through the castle doors when Dumbledore came rushing down the stairs leading to the entrance hall. Draco was somewhat surprised at this as he hadn’t been gone more than a few hours. Surely no one had noticed he was missing already? But then again it was Dumbledore, and he had an eerie habit of knowing everything that went on in the castle. Draco sometimes suspected that the headmaster had found some way to put tracking spells on all the students. He’d heard some of the muggleborn students talking about some kind of tracking chips and if muggles could do it than the most powerful wizard of their time would surely have no trouble.

Pulling himself out of his somewhat random musings, Draco focused on the silent exchange occurring between Dumbledore and Ginny.

The old wizard had slowed to a stop a few short feet in front of them and the twinkle in his eye and the small smile he’d worn in his mad dash down the stairs were fading into a sad and troubled expression.

After a few more long moments of staring, Dumbledore spoke hesitantly. “Miss Weasley, I..I am glad that you are back with us.”

Draco’s eyes widened in wonderment. He had never before seen the headmaster falter, but he was obviously unnerved by the silent, solemn faced girl before him.

“As am I, headmaster,” Ginny said quietly.

He saw Dumbledore trail his eyes down Ginny’s body and although it was slight, he saw the hesitation when he neared her waist.

He swiftly shifted his gaze to meet Draco’s and in that moment Draco had no doubt that he could sense the healing spell Draco had just preformed.

Dumbledore closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them the pain was still there.

He returned his gaze to Ginny, and it was filled with a kind of frustrated grief. “I am sorry child. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you,” he whispered softly.

Draco had never seen the headmaster so effected by anything, and he turned to Ginny to see if she too noticed this uncharacteristic show of emotion.

Ginny noticed. And she’d also noticed his hesitation as he’d run his eyes of her. She’d been a fool to think that she could keep her injuries from Dumbledore.

She felt panic flutter in her stomach briefly as she thought of him telling her family, but she quickly stamped it down and let the emotionless calm fill her. She would not let something so trifling bother her. She had survived far worse than this.

She was the poor traumatized schoolgirl, she thought bitterly. She had suffered for months and she knew that Dumbledore felt responsible. She knew that he would want to spare her any more pain and she would use that guilt to make sure that he never told anyone.

“Headmaster I would like to speak with you in private for a moment, if that would be possible,” she enquired calmly in a flat voice that seemed to upset the headmaster even further.

“Yes. Yes of course child. We will go to my office,” he said gesturing in the direction of the stairs, before turning back to regard Draco, who had been silently watching.

“Mr. Malfoy, I would like to speak to you in my office after dinner, until then you may retire to your rooms.”

Draco started to turn in the direction of the dungeons, thinking bitterly that the headmaster could have at least said thank you. After all, Draco had just risked his life to rescue one of his precious students.

Before he’d taken more than a few steps, Dumbledore’s voice stopped him and interrupted his silent tirade.

“Mr. Malfoy.” Dumbledore waited until the young man had turned to face him. “You have done a great service today to this school and to me. I will not forget your bravery.” He bowed formally, a sign of deepest respect and Draco almost forgot to breathe. “I am indebted to you and should you ever need anything you have but to ask.”

“I..thank you, Headmaster,” was all that Draco could manage. Imagine, Dumbledore bowing to him. Showing respect to him, a Malfoy. If only his father were here to see this.

The thought sobered him, erasing the lingering traces of awe. His father was dead, and rightly so.

He returned his gaze to Ginny and felt guilty for his selfish thoughts. He suddenly didn’t want to be thanked. He’d done what anyone would have done, and he only wished he would have done it earlier. He wished it hadn’t taken bribery and guilt to convince him to do what he should have done on his own.

With guilt permeating every cell of his body he met Ginny’s flat brown eyes. “If..if you need someone to talk to I...,” he hesitated not knowing exactly what to say. “I’d be happy to listen, and you..you can be assured of my discretion.”


He saw some emotion flicker in her eyes, briefly. “I’ll keep that in mind. And thank you..Draco, for rescuing me.”

He nodded sharply not knowing how to reply to that, and turned on his heel, hurrying down to the dungeons. He needed to be alone. He needed to think about everything that had happened in the last few hours. It seemed like his whole world had been turned upside down.

He felt deeply changed. This newfound sympathy and responsibility he felt for a girl he didn’t even know unnerved him. He just needed some peace and quiet to ruminate on these new unsettling and confusing feelings rioting inside of him.

But alas, it was not to be, for as he turned into the corridor that held the Potions room, the class was just filing out and two of the most decidedly un-peaceful people in the world spotted him before he could even think of hiding.

“Malfoy!” Harry yelled, shoving his way through the crowd of students and practically running to Draco’s side. Ron, on the other hand, who had spotted Draco at the same time as Harry, was walking slowly toward them, the expression on his face akin to that of someone going before a firing squad.

“What are you doing here? Did you even go? Did you go and come back already? Is she here?”

By the time Harry had finished with his barrage of questions, Ron had reached their sides. Choosing to ignore Harry, Draco locked eyes with Ron.

“I’ve brought her back, she’s with the Headmaster.”

Ron closed his eyes and swayed a little, when he opened them they were shining with tears.

“Is she..is she okay?” Ron asked his voice shaky.

Draco hesitated for a moment, not quite sure what to say. Saying she was ‘fine’ would have been woefully inaccurate and all of the other words he could think of would be just as much of a lie. And although he’d promised Ginny that he wouldn’t tell anyone what had happened to her, he found he couldn’t lie outright to her brother. Not about this. So he settled for the only truthful thing he could think of.

“She’s alive,” he said quietly. “I need to go back to my room now.”

With that he turned and walked away, but he only got a few steps away before Ron’s words stopped him.

“I can’t believe she’s back. I have to see her. Do you know the password for Dumbledore’s statue?”

Before Harry could answer, Draco spoke. “Weasley.”

He waited until Ron had turned around to face him.

“I don’t think it’s such a good idea to go barging in there. She’ll come see you when she’s ready,” he said calmly, all the while cursing himself inside his head. Why couldn’t he just stay out of it? He’d rescued her. He’d done his part, why did he still feel the need to protect her?

Ron frowned. “When she’s ready? What’s that supposed to mean? She’ll want to see me right away. I’m her brother.”

Draco ran his fingers through his hair, sighing in exasperation. “Look Weasley, she’s been through a very traumatic experience. Just don’t expect to find her the same as when she left. She’s...wounded emotionally, and she needs time to heal.”

Ron continued to stare at him. “But..I’m...I’m her brother. I need to be there for her. She needs me.”

“Just...she’s angry and hurt right now. Just..be patient with her.”

He found he could speak no further without betraying her confidence, and he turned and walked swiftly away, ignoring Ron’s voice calling after him. He only hoped that Weasley would take his advice. He feared what would happen if Ginny were confronted with the people she believed had betrayed her. It would surely be damaging for both of them.

Since when have I cared what happened to Weasley, he thought with disgust.

Muttering the password he passed through the Slytherin common room and walked swiftly upstairs to the room, slamming the door and putting a locking charm on it for good measure. He was in no mood for company and he couldn’t care less about the inconvenience to his roommates.

He went directly to the trunk at the end of his bed and dismantled several wards and locking charms before finally opening it and unearthing his private stash of firewhiskey.

He knew he couldn’t properly indulge himself as he had a meeting with Dumbledore in a few hours, but he really needed a drink.

Taking out a crystal shot glass that he’d stolen from his father, he filled it and raised it halfway to his lips.

“To you father, I hope your twisted soul suffers for all the pain that you’ve caused,” he said bitterly before knocking back the shot.

The whiskey trailed a warm path down his throat and into his stomach, but it soon faded, and he wondered if he would ever again be warm.



AN:Thank you to all those who reviewed. This chapter is a little longer than the others as requested. I realize that the escape was quick and the story's pace is a little fast but I'm an impatient person and it's reflected in my writing. I realize that it's slightly detrimental to the story but I am working on it and I can only get better. Well I guess that’s not necessarily true but let’s be optimistic. Enjoy and review.