Title: The Protagonists
Chapter: Confessions and Kisses
Rating: PG-13
D-is for Disclaimer
O-is for Omnipotent, which I'm not
N-is for Nothing, which is what I have.
T- is for Torture, of which I'm being subjected to.
S-is for Scream, which is what I'll do.
U-is for (? I don't know what U is for. Umm... ! That's it!) Umm..., which is what I say.
E- is for Everything, which is what doesn't belong to me.
***
Narcissa Malfoy slumped to the floor, landing in a lifeless heap. Her masses of silky blond hair pooled around her head.
Ginny staggered backward. How had she been able to cast it? How had she been able to do it? She had never cast even the simplest of Dark spells-how the hell had she managed Aveda Kedevra?
***
Harry's toes skimmed the tips of the grass blades for a moment before he touched down. They were here, here at the P.R.A.T.S. office. It was a small, decrepit little thing with walls that looked like they would cave in at any moment. He reached into the satchel he carried on his back and pulled out the sheaf of papers Hermione had insisted on bringing.
After smoothing out the worst creases, he examined it. According to the information that had been recorded in this log two months ago, the previous President of P.R.A.T.S. had perished and Percival Weasley had been appointed in his place. He had outfitted the guild with a concealing charm.
Harry stuffed the wad of papers back into the sack and turned to face his to companions. He pulled the earplugs out of Hermione's ears and started to speak. "Right. Ron, your brother runs this... thing. I don't think he's here right now, though.-you said he's been working non-stop ever since that Sugar Quill deficiency came through. It's not really as decayed as it looks. It has a concealing charm on it to make it look like a run down old shack. No one would think that the Hogwarts portkey is stored here.
"No one should be here. It has been too dangerous to conduct guild business lately-not that they're ever very busy, of course. The safe combination is 95-72-4-30-12 and will only work once before being reset-so don't shut the door on us because it's 'all in good fun', Ron." The redheaded Weasley scowled and folded his arms.
Hermione just nodded. "Right. That's settled. Come on, now-we have to hurry." She completely spoiled Harry's leadership effect by grabbing them both by their wrists and dragging them through the door.
"Right!" shouted Harry, and she herded them to the right.
"Straight!" Bellowed Ron, and she barreled through the hallways.
Vainly attempting to consult a map using one hand while running, Harry screamed "Two lefts, straight until you come to a coffee machine, at which point you turn right. Continue until you reach the dead end, then head right again. You should be in a maze of cubicles. Walk to the left for two cubicles, then turn into the maze. Go into the first cubicle on the left, touch your wand to the inkpot and say "Chocolate Frogs." Hop on one foot in a circle with a three foot diameter while singing 'I'm a Little Teapot.' "
Hermione was halfway through the song before she realized what she was doing and stopped. Harry was in hysterics beside her. She glared at him, crossed her arms, and turned. Up to the point where she had begun to hop around in a circle, his directions had been correct- a trapdoor had exposed itself, leading down into a darkened cell.
Muttering something inaudible, Hermione dragged the two grinning boys down after her, holding her wand in her teeth. " 'umos." She muttered, and a blue flame lit up the cavern-and her mouth.
An enormous safe, perhaps three meters tall, towered in front of them. An equally large four-pronged handle protruded from the smooth granite surface. A gleaming silver number line was framed just above the handle.
After much debating and a bit of pleading, Ron allowed Hermione to clamber onto his shoulders so that she could reach the gargantuan handle. She spun it once, twice, and again. And again... And again... After meticulously lining up the troublesome numbers, Hermione yanked at the handle as hard as she could, expecting it to grind slowly open as a door of its weight should. It didn't.
Instead, it swung open so quickly and with such a force that both Hermione and her method of transportation (Ron) were thrown against the wall and pinned by it. The pair crawled out from behind the offending door, hair mussed and clothes in disarray. They looked, Harry mused, exactly like Justin and Hannah had when McGonnagle caught them snogging in a broom closet. Perhaps this was the kind of Sign that Professor Trelawney so often talked of. (Or was it just dramatic foreshadowing?) Harry was privately convinced that Ron and Hermione would either be snogging-or shagging-each other senseless by the end of the year, or that they would both be dead. Marriage or Funerals?
Harry was jerked from his romantic fantasies when Hermione once again seized his wrist and pulled him into the vault. A nondescript newspaper-dated October 31, 1941-that looked rather ancient rested against the far left-hand corner. Making impatient hand signals, Hermione beckoned them over. She took the wand out of her mouth and Harry very nearly laughed when he saw the tooth marks that had marked it.
All three leaned forward at the same time and were teleported to Hogwarts, dragging the Portkey with them.
***
Ginny was sitting on the park bench in Hogsmeade, a bundle of Lilies in her lap. She had meant to deposit them at Narcissa's grave, but she didn't want to go over there right now. Draco was there and she really didn't want to see him.
She had killed his Mother. She had killed his mother. She knew that whatever microscopic part of him that hadn't detested her before the Incident had been converted. What she really wanted to do was to hang an enormous sign around her neck. One that read "My name is Ginny Weasley. I am a murderer. Please hit/slap/kick/beat me to a bloody pulp with a blunt and rounded shovel." But it wouldn't fit on the board no matter how small she wrote.
In her state of complete depression, Ginny never even noticed when someone sat down next to her. That is, she didn't notice until a large hand rested on her shoulder.
The girl jerked convulsively, throwing the hand off, and her head snapped around. She was staring down a pair of guilty dark-gray eyes. "Draco!" She half-whispered, half-snapped and tried to stand up.
He was too quick. He grabbed her by the waist, pulled her back onto the bench, and effectively pinned her from moving. He started to talk. "I'm not angry at you for what you did in the Divination Tower. You saved my life, after all-or did that little insignificant piece of information slip through your mind? Listen, Ginny, I don't blame you. You can stop running away at top speed every time you see a glimpse of blond hair. The Hufflepuffs think you have some sort of deranged phobia about them."
Both parties were silent for what seemed to be about five minutes. Then Ginny finally spoke. "How did you know? I mean, how did you know that you needed to be in the Divination Tower?"
He shrugged nonchalantly. "I just knew I had to be there. I was in the middle of a potions class when I hear this... voice. It didn't really talk, it just conveyed emotions, if you know what I mean. It was frightened and angry and horrified. I somehow knew who was broadcasting the emotions to me-you-and ran as fast as I could to your class."
She laughed sarcastically, momentarily forgetting her grief. "Right. I'm supposed to be the Divinator and suddenly you are telepathic. Does that make sense to you?"
He shrugged again. "I don't know. Maybe your Divination abilities let you Telepath to me."
Can you hear this?
Malfoy?
Oh, good. See? And here I thought I was going insane.
MALFOY!
What?
You can Telepath?
Isn't that just what our spoken conversation was about? His mental-voice laughed.
Yes, but-we can Telepath with each other!
You are very observant, Ginny.
You are undoubtedly the most aggravating, annoying, spiteful... Her semi-silent tirade was cut short as Draco leaned forward and kissed her for the second time that week.
This time she stayed awake.
This time she kissed back.
Her hands crept up over his shoulders and locked themselves behind his neck. His had been secured in the uncontrollably tangled curls that made up her hair. And they were pressed up against each other, just kissing. Kissing with everything they had in them. Kissing to try and eradicate the overwhelming grief that both of them felt.
***
Ron had wanted to see his little sister again as soon as possible. It had taken about ten minutes to get briefed on the events that had passed since they had left, and another five to ride to Hogsmeade.
There are certain rules to the universe. One of the most important ones being that a couple will inevitably be discovered by the person who the aforementioned couple most wants to keep their relationship a secret from. This, in the case of Draco and Ginny, was Ron.
And so it was that Ron found his little sister snogging on a park bench in Hogsmeade with Draco Malfoy. Lilies had been strewn on and around the bench haphazardly, and Draco's shirt was half-off.
"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" Ron bellowed. This was possibly the only thing that could have separated the couple's lips.
Draco reluctantly pulled himself off Ginny and turned his head to face the infuriated older sibling. "Snogging your sister." The Slytherin informed Ron, "She tastes good, just to let you know."
'Mr. Icicle' had enough sense to grab Ginny and jump off the bench. He was nearly too late-Ron cast a disintegrating spell on their former snogging stool, reducing it to a pile of dust. Leaving Ginny on the ground for a moment, Draco jumped up again and pounced on the older brother. Ginny later remarked that while Ron fought like a rabid dog, Draco fought like a feline. Ron pummeled and hit in a mad rage, while Draco's strikes were fast and calculated.
The fight was very long and rather gory, but ended with Draco having his faced slashed open from ear to jaw and getting two ribs and an arm broken. Ron had his nose broken, several deep slashes, a broken leg, and a minor concussion.
They were both carted away to the Infirmary at Hogwarts. Hermione and Ginny went into a female fit and started a Campaign Against Male Idiocy while Harry sat and stared into space. Everyone in the room, including Madam Pomfrey, wished that the two bedridden males had better tempers.
Neither Harry nor Hermione scolded Ginny about her affair. (had it gone far enough to be considered an affair?) Partly because they were concerned about Ron, and partly because they didn't know about it. Ron had the longest legs between the trio and had beat both of his friends to the park bench where Ginny had been passionately snogging with her former worst enemy.
It was, Ginny reflected, all in all a very normal day.
***
A/N Sorry if it's a bit short-I've been sweating over the second chapters of Calli and Nonexistent Hope, and they were both rather long. Hope it met your standards!
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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.