Anthend : Chapter One
"When the wine and the song, like the seasons have all gone."
"Eyeah eyeahhhhh!" Ron yodeled.
Ginny shot him a deadly look. Ron grinned, unabashed. "How on earth can you listen to that drivel?" he demanded. He tossed a Weird Sisters record at her. "That's what you should be listening to." He said piously.
"Ignore him, Ginny, he listens to the Spice Girls at night." Hermione called.
Ginny howled in laughter. "You don't Ron!"
Ron turned a bright red. "The Spice Girls are all right." He defended crossly. "What's wrong with them? They can sing at least -"
"Yeah." Hermione said dryly. "Under a very loose definition of singing. Or perhaps you mean singing without any talent, eh? In that case - "
Ron snatched his record back and glared. "You girls just have no comprehension of the finer meanings of the Spice Girls. Jealousy, that's what I call it. Eh, Harry?"
"I'm not getting dragged into this." Harry replied absently, poring over a crossword puzzle. "What's a word for poor taste?"
"Ron?" Ginny suggested innocently.
Harry snorted in laughter. "Sorry, sorry. Loaded question." He went back to poring over the crossword. Ginny sighed and took her mind off her disappointment. After all, at least he knew she was there. That was more than could be said for him usually -
"As I was saying." Ron continued pompously.
"Stuff it, Ron." Ginny told her brother.
Ron looked at her disapprovingly. "Is that what you're learning here?" he asked in offended dignity. "To tell your elders to stuff it?"
Hermione flung her pen at Ron. "Get off it, Ron. Come on, Ginny, lets have a game of checkers."
"My, aren't we challenging our intellectual capacities tonight." Ron teased derisively.
Ginny turned bright red, but ignored him. "No thanks, Hermione. I think I'm going to turn in. I have triple period Potions tomorrow, and I want to be rested up for it."
Hermione didn't look overwhelmed with disappointment. Probably wanted some quality time with Ron, Ginny realized guiltily. Harry was there of course, but when he got engrossed in one of his crossword puzzles, there was no dragging him out of it. "All right. What about you Ron? Good night, Ginny."
Ron sniffed delicately. "I suppose I could lower myself -"
Ginny heard the throwing of a pillow and Ron's succeeding yowl as she moved up the stairs. She went in her dorm room and found her roommates all asleep. Yawning, Ginny undressed and put on her pajamas, rolling into bed.
Sleep didn't come quite as easily as she had hoped, though. It was one of those stuffy nights where your pillow seemed unbearably hot no matter which way you turned it, and your nightgown stifled and hitched up in bed frustratingly. Recognizing the signs, Ginny got out of bed, hoping that she could go and talk to someone in the common room until she felt sufficiently sleepy.
She dragged herself down the stairs, wide awake and already aware from the lack of light in the common room that nobody was down there. Nevertheless, she wasn't going to be doing anything up in her room anyway, so she flung herself into a chair and reveled in the absolute darkness sifting against her eyelids. She tried to make out the shapes in the room through the blackness, but she was already so well-acquainted with the room that it grew boring quickly, and besides, her eyes started to hurt from the strain. Ginny heaved out of the chair and resigned herself to lying in her bed for a few hours more.
It was when she got up that she realized that the common room portrait was open. Only slightly open, true, but open. She wouldn't have noticed it if a slight movement hadn't caught her eye. A slight change of light from black to blacker to black again. A figure moving across.
Ginny's heart beat leapt, her breath sucked out, and fear took over. She had never been very brave. She was paralyzed for a moment, disjointed fear, suspense, trailing icily over her skin, making it taut. She clenched her fists, wanting to run upstairs so badly, and pretend that she'd never seen it. She'd never seen that figure, moving across the portrait. It was just one of those things that you scare yourself with in the middle of the night. It wasn't real. It wasn't real.
But it was.
She was alone in the room, and yet not alone. There was something in the room with her, or maybe there wasn't. That was the worst part of all, the fact that she didn't know, wasn't sure -
No change in the room, no change at all. The worst thing of all. Nothing concrete, to grab onto and make sure that it was there. No sudden chill, no shift in the air to show something had displaced it -
Nothing at all.
She was very still, afraid to move. The stuffiness of the night, temporarily alleviated by the cool emptiness of the common room, became overwhelming again. She needed to go, she really did. She needed to go to the toilet so badly. Ginny squeezed her eyes shut, afraid to have them open, and with each moment that they were closed, her fears grew. Something could easily touch her now, and that was the most fearsome thing of all. Ginny dreaded that cold whisper of a touch against her bare skin. She wished she had worn a long-sleeved nightgown.
She couldn't bear it, she couldn't -
She uttered a shrill, thin shriek. No, no no no nononono, now it knew she was here, why hadn't she shouted louder, now it knew, now it knew,nowitknewnowitknew . . .
Fear robbed her breath cruelly for a second, and with each minute she couldn't breathe her heart raced so wildly, making her panic, making her reach out blindly, to get away, only maybe she was moving towards it, she knew, she knew that it was coming towards her, only a second more, and it would get her -
Ginny screamed. She screamed long and hard, a terrified scream, interspersed with so much terror that it came out a keening, wailing sound.
She felt it, felt it, felt it whisper against her bare arm, cool and light, like rushing air, insubstantial, and then whisk away just as quickly, why wasn't anyone coming?
She dragged in a breath, so scared that it would come back again before someone could hear her, before someone could come down and get her, so scared that the need to pee became worse, she had to hurry, hurry, but she couldn't move -
She screamed again, screamed high, piercing the silence of the night, now she could hear people hurrying down the stairs, scared whispers, the bursting of someone into the common room, oh please, switch on the light, please, let it not be there when it's light, please, please pleaseplease -
The light burst on. Ron was there, in his red dressing gown, hair ruffled wildly, eyes big and scared. Ginny couldn't see anybody else, she couldn't, and she forced her hands upward, crying as she fell, flinging herself forward into his arms. "Ron, Ron, Ron - it was there, it was there Ron, and it touched me it touched me oh God oh God, please help me, please it touched me oh God -"
Ron was bewildered, confused, the fright receding slightly, but still there at the sight of a terrified sister, who was shaking badly in his arms, and crying so hard she couldn't speak, could only cling to him hard.
"What's wrong?" Parvati Patil cried out loud, her eyes round and dark. "What happened? Is You-Know-Who here?"
Murmurs began, starting to escalate into loud, agitated voices. Suddenly the portrait swung open fully, revealing a stern-mouthed, flannel-gowned Professor McGonagall, followed swiftly by Dumbledore, who was in checks. Professor McGonagall's eyes riveted on Ginny's trembling body, and her eyes grew slightly darker in alarm. "What has happened?"
"I don't know." Ron said, hoarsely and helplessly. "We just heard this screaming, so we came down and -"
"We found Ginny standing there, screaming." Hermione finished, more calmly. "We don't know what happened -" She glanced at Harry, whose eyes were wide and confused, concern starting to fill them.
"The portrait was open." Professor McGonagall said sharply. "Who is missing? Quickly! Check amongst yourselves. Prefects, do a head count. Quickly!"
Murmuring, the students looked uneasily at each other, not wanting to look and realize that one of their friends was missing. A collective sigh of relief went around when, after a few minutes, Dean, a Prefect, said quickly, "No one's missing, Professor."
Professor McGonagall glanced sharply at Dumbledore, who until now had remained quiet. His eyes were unreadable, but his voice was gentle when he said, "In that case, perhaps Miss Weasley should come with us, and the rest of you can go back to your beds."
Ron glanced uncertainly at Ginny, who had calmed down some, but who was still clinging to him, her face frightened. Not wanting to leave her alone, he said uncertainly, "Professor - can I -?"
"I think it would be better for you to go back to bed, Mr Weasley." Dumbledore said, kindly but firmly. Professor McGonagall went over to Ginny and gently disengaged her arms from Ron.
"Miss Weasley?" she said, softly. "Are you all right now?"
Ginny swallowed once, trying to clear the awful fuzziness in her throat. Her breath hitched and she dragged in air, swallowing thickly. "Yeah." She whispered, hoarse and shrill at the same time, not wanting to let go of her brother. It was a lie, everyone knew it. She looked at him, her face pleading. She was so awfully alone, cool air rushing past her bare skin, isolating her from everyone else. She didn't want to look around and see it staring back at her, grinning, so she kept her head very still, afraid to move.
"It'll be all right." Ron soothed, his face still half-frightened. He smiled, strained, at her and nodded. "It'll be all right."
_____
Ginny slept through the day, her sleep deep and quiet. When she woke up in the Hospital wing, Ron was sitting by her side, immersed in a Quidditch magazine. She turned slightly, and saw Harry sitting across from her bed, similarly engrossed in a crossword puzzle. Not wanting to disturb them, she lay quietly in bed, relishing the feel of clean white linen against her skin, the warmth of the blanket tucked around her, like an egg in a white nest.
Ron looked up from his magazine and met her eyes. He looked worriedly at her. "Are you all right?"
Ginny smiled at him. "I'm all right."
Harry, who looked up during this exchange, excused himself and melted away so discreetly that Ginny was impressed. He would have made an excellent butler. She was happy to note that he had left his crossword puzzle behind, which obviously meant he was coming back.
Ron leaned on his loosely hinged elbows - Ginny always got a bit alarmed when he swung them around, they might come undone - and surveyed her. "Do you want to tell me what you saw last night?"
Ginny's face remained in the sweet warm afterdaze that always came after a long sleep. "I spoke to McGonagall and Dumbledore about it." She said slowly. "They think it's best that I don't talk to anyone about it." She swallowed. "They are going to question the other houses, though, see if anyone is missing or something."
Ron hesitated, obviously wanting to know more. Ginny knew that it wasn't out of mere curiosity, Ron really wanted to know what had scared her so badly. Her heart swelled with the rare loving tenderness that comes when someone has done something unexpectedly sweet. Weasley clannishness. She hugged her brother, a bit awkwardly, because it's hard to hug when you're sitting in bed. "It's all right, Ron." She repeated, echoing his words of the night before. "Really, it's all right."
Harry came back in, carrying a glass of water. "Just went to get some water." He said cheerfully. Ginny was doubly impressed by how well he lied. He walked over and set the glass down on the bedside table. He made no reference to her condition, just went back to his own chair and gave her a friendly nod. Ginny appreciated his tact.
Ron, who had turned beet-red when Harry walked in on their hug, pulled on his collar and cleared his throat crossly. "Well." He said. "Now that you're all right, we'll leave you to get some rest."
Harry looked up and tucked his crossword under his arm. "Of course." He said politely. He rummaged through his bag and handed her a garishly wrapped present, doing it with a surprising amount of poise. Ginny let her eyes rest on Harry for a moment, let a wave of longing, a wave of pure want, wash over her. She wanted this boy badly, wanted him more than anything else in the world. Wanted him to look at her with love, with the kind of tenderness she had seen her father look at her mother with once.
He was such a gentleman, he'd grown more so over the years, as if to counteract all the violence he'd known. Ginny loved him for that, loved the strong white face, the supremely geeky glasses over the kind, calm green eyes, the short slender-skinny body that could snatch roughly at a Snitch and help you up gently when you fell.
Ginny smiled at him and accepted the present. "Hermione wrapped it." Ron explained cheerfully. "Harry and I picked out the wrapping paper."
Ginny looked at the wrapping paper, lavishly covered with elves screaming "Get Well Soon!" "It's great." She agreed solemnly.
Harry and Ron looked so proud of themselves that Ginny was glad she hadn't burst their bubble. "We'll go now." Harry said. He smiled at her. "Get well soon, funny-face."
Ginny turned red. Harry had started calling her that during the last summer holidays. Ginny sincerely hoped that it was an affectionate endearment and not something to be translated literally. "Yea, I'll try. Thanks for the present."
"I'll see you later." Ron said as they disappeared out the door.
Ginny looked at the present and ripped it open.
It was a pair of socks. The enclosed card said "We got Dobby to knit it." Well, that explained the different colours.
Ginny grinned and put the socks on. Then she dropped back onto her back and went back to sleep.
______
"After that episode you had, I would have thought that you'd be out for a week at least." Colin remarked as he slogged along beside her, constantly shifting the big black camera around his neck.
"It wasn't that bad." Ginny replied. After repeating that the whole day, she was kind of starting to believe it herself. It was probably just some Slytherin kid on a raid or something.
Ginny shivered involuntarily, remembering the brush of unnaturalness against her skin. No, it hadn't been some Slytherin kid.
It hadn't been anything like a wizard.
"Madam Pomfrey thought I could come back today." Ginny went on. "She said there was nothing physically wrong with me. And there isn't."
"Not anything that wasn't there before, anyway." Colin smirked.
Ginny scowled. "What did you just say, boy?"
Colin grinned. "Nothing, nothing. Hey, I've got to drop off at the darkroom for a minute. I'll meet you at the common room, all right?"
Ginny nodded automatically. She watched for a minute as Colin jogged down the corridor, his small wiry body moving swiftly along the large, solid stone walls. She turned and headed down the opposite corridor. She had to do loads of homework; Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, Potions -
Fricking hell. Potions. She'd left her potions kit in the dungeons. Ginny scowled in the dark and turned again, heading down the stairwell, automatically avoiding the trick step three steps from the top. She'd just grab the kit and head back up. She tried to remember the Gryffindor Password.
She went into the Potions classroom and spotted it. It was lying innocently on her desk. She wondered why she had forgotten it in the first place. She couldn't remember, but it probably had something to do with the fact that she'd been avidly listening to Hannah's account of how Seamus Finnigan had been found snogging with a Slytherin. Gross.
Ginny tucked her kit into her bag and headed back out. Halfway back to the stairwell, she stopped abruptly, shivering uneasily. It was cold down in the dungeons, it always was, and dark. The torches flickered unsteadily on the walls. She glanced around her, almost involuntarily. There wasn't anybody down there with her, was there?
No, nobody. And maybe that was the problem.
Ginny abruptly began running, her breath coming in short, whiny pants that sounded unbearably loud. She had to quiet down, she had to, but to do that, she had to stop and catch her breath, and then it would get her -
Her blood ran cold. It was back, she could feel it, but she couldn't hear anything over the loudness of her breathing and the heartbeat drumming relentlessly against her eardrums and the burning of her soles. She slammed into the stairwell door, flinging it shut behind her, terrified when it bounced open again from the force of her hand. She flung herself up the stairs, scrabbling against the slickness of the floors. She had to get away, she had to, she had to -
Her foot jammed brutally. She jolted forward and was jerked backward, her foot wrenching painfully in the ground. Ginny sobbed, unaware of the tears running down her face. She yanked roughly on her foot, her hands on her thigh, pulling, straining -
It was getting closer, and her foot hurt so bad -
The door at the top of the stairwell opened and Ginny shrieked. She couldn't speak for a moment, her breath whining out of her, dragging it back in.
Strong hands helped her gently out of the trick step, and lifted her out of the stairwell. Ginny blinked at the harsh light of the main corridor, so bright after the darkness of the dungeons. Her eyes stung, grateful tears coming to ease the sting. Harry, her heart breathed.
"Draco." Her mind said.
Draco set her on the ground, keeping her weight off her foot as he looked at her through those unreadable gray eyes. They didn't speak as he helped her to Madam Pomfrey's room, and only when Madam Pomfrey was bustling to help her did he whisper in her ear, soft and lightly mocking.
"Careful, Weasley. Next time I might not be around."
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Draco and Ginny belong to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury, Scholastic, Warner Bros and various other corporations. They are being used here without permission and/or affiliation with the above. None of the authors listed here make any profit from these stories.