Chapter 10: Follow They Will Not Dare
Ginny stumbled twice on the stairs, but Tom's grip in her unbound hair prevented her from plummeting down them. He said nothing more to her, but forced her down the halls and into a dimly lit room. Finally, he threw her into a chair before a crackling fire and seated himself across from her.
Ginny's eyelids fluttered more rapidly than her heart beat, trying to blink away the tears that welled in her eyes from the pain on her scalp. She tried to look at the fire, or the bookshelves lining the walls, or her hands in her lap, or the floor -- anywhere but at him.
Her willpower only lasted so long, and when her gaze was drawn to him at last he was flipping through the pages of her diary, lips moving slightly as he read silently to himself. No, his diary, she reminded herself. Its cover was still battered and its edges worn.
Tom ran one long finger back and forth over the hole that ran through the center of the book. "It says quite clearly that you were coming down into the Chamber, and at that point you should have died." Tom turned pages that to Ginny appeared blank. "How is it that a silly, spineless little girl like you is alive to sneak into a Malfoy's bed?"
"Harry came for me, Tom," she said, and a sudden crack whipped her head to the side so violently that she tumbled from her seat and onto the marble slab that fronted the fire.
Lucius Malfoy jerked her roughly back onto the chair, placing his hands on the armrests and leaning close. "You will address him as Lord Voldemort."
Ginny stared straight ahead, refusing to speak or cry out although her head spun. Lucius straightened suddenly and walked backward into the shadows, seeming to fight the action all the way. When he stepped away, Ginny saw that Tom -- Voldemort -- directed his actions with a flick of his wand. "Your chivalry is amusing, Lucius, if a bit overdramatic. I've warned you about your actions where young girls are concerned. Now be quiet and leave her to me."
Voldemort leaned back and stretched his legs, crossing them carelessly at the ankles. "Begin again, please."
"A sword, Harry had a sword," Ginny ground out, trying to ignore the pounding in her head. "And a phoenix came and healed him. That's all I know. You were gone when I woke up."
Voldemort fingered the diary thoughtfully. He closed it at last. "No sword did this," he said. "Perhaps there are still clues to be found in the Chamber..."
"It's gone," Ginny said softly. "Dumbledore had it destroyed, and the basilisk... I tried to go down, after." She had, too, more than once, and it was the inability to budge the sink that had helped Ginny convince herself that her entire first year was a dream, a figment of her imagination, something to be locked away in the back of her mind.
Voldemort growled. "Dumbledore had no business tampering with the Chamber. It was not his... but it reminds me that I have unfinished business of my own with more than one wizard. And, I have unfinished business with you."
Ginny found herself kneeling on the floor at Voldemort's feet. It was like slipping into an old robe, this posture that he had forced her into so many times when he wanted her to read his directions. It had been the same position when she was to learn Parseltongue or report to him the remaining time until the Mandrake Draught would be complete.
"Send for your son," Voldemort commanded Lucius as Ginny's legs began to go numb. Lucius retrieved a small, luminous orb from his desk and tapped it with his wand. He seemed displeased with the results, and tapped it again.
"My lord, forgive me. His Locator is not working. I'll have to send a house-elf to find him." Lucius picked up another, less finely crafted globe and tapped it with his wand, and a house-elf appeared within the glass. "Bring me Draco," he commanded.
Meanwhile, Ginny concentrated on keeping her breathing even and calm. Her head hurt terribly, but she didn't dare let on. Voldemort would surely remember that she blushed when she lied, and she would need all her wits to tell him only the truth. He could be very persuasive, she remembered.
"A Weasley and a Malfoy. That's a rather odd alliance. Your family ranks far below the Malfoys in social standing, and positions itself far from where the Malfoy loyalties rest."
Ginny swallowed. Did she have an alliance with Draco? They had never spoken of it. A glance or a kiss didn't mean anything. A gift, a small comfort, a helping hand -- what did it mean when they had been assigned to look out for each other in all things by their Headmaster? Still, Ginny had to admit to herself that she would miss Draco as much as any of her brothers should something happen to him now. She couldn't lie about her feelings and give him away with a blush, but she could guess at the truth.
"Draco and I agree on many things," she began hesitantly. "He and I recognize the value of wizard blood. My family may be poor, but my family name is as old as his. We both know something of serving you. And neither of us has any great love for the Muggle world."
"What would you know of the Muggle world?" Voldemort leaned forward eagerly. "Tell me, Ginny. Tell me where it hurts."
Ginny shivered in her spot near the fire. Her hands clenched involuntarily over her stomach. I don't want to remember. Please don't make me please please --
"Ginny," Voldemort prompted in a whisper. There would be no stalling.
"Last summer, I helped my brother work with dragons in Romania.” Her mouth was dry and her lips stuck to her teeth. Every word was an effort. "Some Muggle people called scientists found an egg -- there are some wild dragons that haven't been caught and taken within the boundaries of the facility. It was in their town newspaper, a big deal about finding some new species, but they didn't know what it was and they were going to take it to some school and have more Muggles look at it.
"One of my brother's friends convinced him that I should go along when they went to rescue it. I was supposed to ask the Muggles questions and they would get the egg. It didn't work that way. The scientists wanted to talk to the adults, and Morwood... he distracted them, and I went to get the egg instead." She gagged involuntarily, remembering the smell of the laboratory.
It had hit her the moment she slipped through the cold steel door, making her nauseated and causing her to forget her worries about what anyone would say about a little girl sneaking around the building.
No one was in the laboratory, but cages lined the walls and filled every flat surface. A piercing cry next to her ear made her jump back. She turned her head to see a monkey rattling the bars of a cage too small for it so sit upright in. Momentarily distracted, she reached a tentative hand forward but the primate snapped at her fingers with sharp teeth.
Keeping well back, Ginny examined the monkey. It was emaciated and its eyes were wild. Suddenly, it shrank away from her to huddle in the corner of the cage and she could see that strange, clear strings, filled with some sort of fluid, were attached to its back.
Chilled, she began to search for the egg. With each step she took it was harder to ignore the smell.
"There were animals in cages."
Starved animals -- rats, dogs, rabbits -- were crammed into cages, sometimes with half a dozen others. Some writhed in pain. Others were wearing more of the same clear tubes, or ones that weren't so clear but seemed to be causing the animals to twitch. Some animals appeared not to notice anything at all. Everywhere filth crusted the floor.
Sickened, she hurried forward, trying to see the egg and nothing else while she picked her way over the refuse that covered even the cracked tiles on the floor. The egg rested on a towel underneath a heat lamp on a desk at the back of the room. On the blotter was a heavy ring of keys, and she had a sudden vision of Hagrid.
"I thought... when I saw... if they did that to animals..."
There was an owl that looked like Pigwidgeon. A toad that looked like Trevor. A monkey that reminded her oddly of George.
She started with the healthiest first. They looked the least likely to bite. Little dogs, too tired to move. Birds that wouldn't come out of their cages. The rats and mice were only latched in and she popped open the doors with both hands. Remembering herself, finally, she pulled her wand and repeated Alohomora! over and over before pushing open the far exit.
A banshee's wail, louder than any Howler she had ever heard, filled the room. Lights began to flash, and she covered her ears in fright. "Hurry," she shouted. A few animals ran out the back door, and she began to shoo ineffectually at others, trying to keep her breakfast down.
She grabbed the egg as the door from the front offices of the research center banged open. Charlie was there, and he picked her up under one arm like she was a Quaffle. In the lobby, Morwood waited, his wand pointed at two men in long white coats. He placed them under a Memory Charm as Charlie ran out carrying Ginny.
"...what would they do to a wizard?" Ginny finished.
Voldemort had moved to the front of his chair and his chin rested in his hands. His mouth was covered, but his eyes crinkled with amusement at the corners. After a moment, he sat back. "Oh, dear Ginny, I knew I liked you. You've always been so entertaining."
"What?" Ginny rasped, still gathering herself.
Voldemort scraped at a flaky patch of skin over his left eye. "You've always been the sweetest girl. It‘s too bad that Harry never noticed you... although he could never take care of you the way that I can." He reached out and caught her hand, turning it in his. With his wand he drew a circle of light on her palm.
“It’s too bad that Charlie can’t take care of you the way that I can. Your mother must have been horrified to learn that you were in such danger. I’m sure she’d give her life for yours, Ginny. Your father, too. And all those brothers, not able to help you one bit... Crucio.”
A pain like no other sliced into Ginny's hand and she screamed in agony. Although it was limited to her hand, it sent waves of tension through her muscles and she prayed that the darkness that narrowed her field of vision would take her. The idea of taking the curse with her entire body was unthinkable.
She fell forward in shock when Voldemort dropped her hand at last. The physical sensation was gone, but she felt as if all her energy had been drained. No one should have to feel this. "My family," Ginny muttered. Forcing herself to speak louder, she repeated, "My family. Promise me you won't hurt my family."
Voldemort let out a high, crackling laugh. "Dearest, I promise I won't hurt your family. Of course, I will require your presence as a reminder. I can be... forgetful."
A house-elf tiptoed in. "Sir, young Draco is not on the grounds. Golly and the others are searching everywhere and using all our magic and we cannot find him. Golly is beginning punishment immediately."
Lucius laughed, a brittle sound from the shadows. "It appears you've missed him, Miss Weasley."
"This can be her first task, then. Find Draco and bring him back here." Voldemort looked at Lucius, but the younger man did not react. "Run along and don't let him hide from you at Hogwarts. Unless you think I should send a team to have him hunted and killed."
"No."
"No? Why not? It would be vastly entertaining." He eyed Ginny closely.
"You've been killing Purebloods, too," Ginny said, stalling, trying to figure out what it was she had to say to keep Voldemort interested. He was so much harder to ignore, to forget, than the Tom she remembered. "If you kill them all, there won't be any wizards to attend you -- isn't Malfoy blood worth anything?"
This seemed to catch his attention. "I suppose I wanted your brat around for a reason," he said, his eyes on Lucius again. "I had forgotten." Voldemort stared at his wand for a moment. "Hurry along."
"My broom is broken," she blabbered without thinking. "It fell from Draco's window and broke."
"We can send you by Floo to Hogsmeade," Lucius suggested, but Voldemort raised a hand.
"No, Lucius will be only too happy to replace it. In fact, I think he'd be pleased if you'd ride Draco's broom." While Lucius reluctantly ordered the elf to bring Draco's broom, Ginny dared to watch Voldemort. Voldemort in turn watched Lucius intently, and if Ginny hadn't been so scared she might have thought that Voldemort was baiting Lucius for his own amusement.
A moment later, the elf reappeared with not one but two brooms. One was Draco's Firebolt Premiere Professional. The other was wrapped in brown paper and sealed with Spellotape printed with the logo for Quality Quidditch Supplies. “There were two brooms, Master Draco's and a new one. Golly didn't know which one Master is wanting," the house elf explained.
Voldemort raised an eyebrow at this. "You shouldn't let your son have so much pocket money, Lucius. Bring her the new one."
Ginny quickly unwrapped the broom. It wasn't as fancy as Draco's Firebolt, but it was a fine broom nonetheless. Its twigs were smooth and fresh and the honey-colored wood of the handle gleamed in the firelight. She lifted it and stood, noting that the balance and length would fit her perfectly. A glimmer of gold at the tip of the handle caught her eye and she clapped her hand over it.
"Off you go, Ginny, and return when you've located our missing drone."
She hurried to the window, letting the house-elf open it, and flew out into the night.
"What are you playing at?" Lucius asked, his tone cold with anger.
"He keeps his friends close, but his enemies closer," Voldemort replied. "Do you know when a female Weasley was last born?" Lucius did not reply, and Voldemort walked to where he stood behind his desk. "Well? Do you mean to tell me that you put my diary in her hands and you didn't even know about it? Lucius, I overestimated you. The last time one was born she brought down a kingdom when she spirited away a wizard from a king. She'll bring us Draco, and then she'll bring us Harry. And then, Dumbledore will fall."
***
The sky was showing the first hint of dawn when Ginny hurried down from the common room, clutching her broom tightly. The slap of her feet against the stones as she skipped down the stairs two at a time echoed in the corridors but she was too anxious to care about whether or not she was caught out of bed. As she neared the library, though, she forced herself to slow down.
A pair of house-elves, assigned to escort students back to their common rooms from the library after hours, dozed on a bench. Even though the re-sorting of students into specialized academic sections had made the library a popular place in which to congregate, Ginny could only think of one person who would remain there overnight on a Friday.
Careful to leave her boom out of sight in the corridor, she peeked curiously into the library. Hermione looked up from behind a stack of books, her eyes puffy and face drawn. "You're up very early."
"Or very late," Ginny replied, acknowledging their mutual rule-breaking as she walked closer. After a tense moment, Hermione went back to her reading.
"Yes, well, there are some things more important than sleep."
Ginny glanced at the books Hermione had piled around her. "Magical Charms and Protections: Uses for Crystallized Phoenix Tears. Do you have an essay? We're completely safe in the castle now, aren't we?"
Hermione gave Ginny a bleak, weary look. "Harry is completely safe here, as long as Dumbledore is around."
It took Ginny a long moment to realize what Hermione meant. "The rest of us..."
"The rest of us will have to do our best," she replied. She held Ginny's gaze, but showed neither fear or resentment in her expression. "And our best for others."
Ginny nodded. Somehow she had known this from the first time she had had an essay to write and the diary fell out of the book she opened to complete her assignment. She had never been truly safe at Hogwarts. "I have work of my own to complete."
Hermione's voice stopped her just before the door. "Whatever it is, I hope it's worth it."
"I hope so too," she answered, without turning around.
She was barely past the painting of Culloden Moor and into the Integrated Magic classroom when Draco grabbed her shoulders and started shaking her so hard her teeth rattled together. "Where have you been? Why didn't you come back? Why did you do that? You should have brought a second Portkey, at least, or come along with me... Do you have any idea what I've been sitting here thinking?"
When he finally let her go, she needed only a second to catch her breath before she gave as good as she got. "Do you have any idea what I've been thinking?" she asked, waving her broom threateningly. She turned it so he could see the engraved letters on the handle: Virginia Weasley.
Draco looked uncomfortable. "Who said you could go through my things?"
"You have my name printed on your things?" she challenged, letting the argument distract them both. "I never knew that you had a secret desire to be me. Perhaps I should loan you some of my clothes so that you can dress up and pretend..."
"Oh, shut up," Draco said angrily, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Thank you for giving me a few last minutes. And you needed a better broom anyway. For Christmas, and your birthday soon. It's not a pair of boots, but I think it will fit." He rested his chin on her head, lifting one hand to smooth her wind-tangled hair. "Blaise is right, isn't she?"
"Yes," Ginny replied stiffly, realizing that she couldn't tell him more.
"My father will just come back for me again, you know. He'll win."
"Then go somewhere else!" Ginny pushed Draco away, afraid that if she didn't do so now it would be too difficult later. "Somewhere that they can't find you."
"You want me to run." It wasn't a question but a statement, flat and emotionless. "What happened to Gryffindor bravery? You know, the house that will not only jump off a bridge because someone else does, but will jump first to show they're not afraid?"
"What happened to Gryffindor?" Ginny felt hot tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She knew what had happened. It was all her fault, every last bit of it, that her school was fragmenting and falling apart. Her fault for not fighting harder. Her fault she had once written everything down for Tom in a blurry haze. "What happened to Slytherin? To your ambition? To getting what you want? To saving your own hide?"
He sighed. "There is only one place I can think of to go, but there will be spies watching. I’m not even certain it exists." He crossed to the bookshelves at the back of the room, picking up the tattered copy of Magical Geography of the United Kingdom that he had carried around for the first half of the year and letting it fall open to a dog-eared page in the middle. He handed it to Ginny.
She read the page carefully. "If this means what I think it means, then you'd be safe if you made it there, at least."
"There's no way I'd make it there without being seen." Draco sat down at the table and rubbed his forehead with both hands. "We're right back where we started."
"I have an idea. Come on." Ginny hefted her broom and the book and stepped back through the painting. She thought she would have to go back in and drag Draco out, but he finally came into the hallway and followed her.
Ginny stopped in front of a nondescript door bearing a small brass plate. "I think this is it." She opened it and pushed Draco inside.
"Oh, sorry, sorry," Draco said, backing up quickly and stepping on Ginny's toes in the process. "Really, really sorry."
"Ow." Ginny elbowed her way around Draco. "Even better! Don't put your pants back on, Charlie, we're going to need them."
***
The lanky blond boy sauntered out from behind the dressing screen, hips swaying as he crossed the room to stand before a girl whose coloring suggested that they could have been at least cousins. The girl had a shocked expression on her face, and she hesitantly raised her arms.
"Don't touch!" The boy slapped at her hands where they hovered above her chest. "Stand straight. Now, we will see how you are walking, sil vous plait. To ze wall and back."
The girl's face twisted into a scowl and she stomped across the room, a rhinoceros in a sky blue cloak. "I don't see what difference it makes how I walk. No one is going to notice."
Ginny held her mouth closed with one hand. She would not laugh at them. She would not.
A man who sat on the bed wrapped in a sheet began to giggle. "Oh, this is priceless." His snickering turned into full blown laughter and he slapped his hand against the mattress as he howled with glee. "Malfoy, if you fool anybody like that I'll eat my boots."
Draco Malfoy swung his long, silvery blonde hair over one shoulder. "Well, it's your turn to prove how unmanly you can be, isn't it, Weasley?"
"Oui, we are not using good time. Let us hurry." Fleur Delacour seemed far more comfortable Transfigured into Draco Malfoy than was the reverse. Ginny began to suspect that this wasn't Fleur's first time as a boy. Fleur had remained calm all through the Switching Spell that she had had to teach Charlie to perform -- it had taken him six tries to get the Occitan right and create the illusion that Draco was Fleur and Fleur was Draco. It was the first time in Ginny's memory that he had problems working a spell, if she didn't count Apparating.
In fact, it took Charlie more time to learn the spell than it had taken Ginny to convince Charlie that he should assist Draco and also accompany him out of the school. "I'll tell Mum," she had said. At first, Charlie sat up in the bed defiantly, and Ginny was quite sure that he had been about to say I don't care, but a horrified gasp from Fleur caused Charlie to snap his mouth shut as Ginny added, "and maybe not our Mum." Ginny imagined that it probably also wasn't allowed for Hogwarts professors to have overnight guests, either, which would certainly give Fleur an incentive to be of assistance.
"Draco needs sanctuary."
Ginny hadn't had to explain much else. The simple truth that Draco was in direct danger from Voldemort had been enough to conjure sober looks from Fleur and Charlie. In fact, Fleur had insisted that she switch herself with Draco, and Ginny with Charlie, despite the differences in gender so that they wouldn't end up with strange, mysterious-looking amalgams that would surely not be recognized at the gates -- or by anyone else watching.
Ginny and Charlie stood back to back, Ginny already dressed in Charlie's leather pants and duster. Fleur walked around them, her gray eyes glinting with amusement as she chanted the spell. Ginny had the sensation of stretching as the floor grew more distant, and suddenly she fit Bill's clothing. She turned around to see herself clutching a sheet around her shoulders. "Don't get any funny ideas," Ginny said, her voice rumbling up from her rib cage.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Charlie replied with no hint of a smile as he took her robes behind the dressing screen.
"And no peeking!" Ginny added. She turned to Fleur. "It probably isn't safe for you to even go out of the room, but Charlie needs to make sure that Blaise Zabini sees him." When Charlie was dressed, she added, "It would be best if you don't speak to her, I think, but you'll have to go about for me and act normally."
Charlie nodded his agreement and searched through his belongings before pressing a small pouch into her hands. "Muggle money. It's not much, but it will help in a pinch. Have you straightened out your stories?"
"What story? Why do we need a story?" Draco interrupted, tugging ineffectually at a bra strap that slid down his arm underneath his dress.
"Muggles will ask things, and you're expected to explain where you're going, why, and the like," Charlie answered. "You're on holiday? Visiting an aunt? What?"
"Zey are running away," Fleur cut in, smirking. "It eez very romantic," she said as Draco and Charlie paled and then turned green.
"I think I like that," Ginny said, and caught an image of herself smiling Charlie's most roguish smile in the mirror. She also noticed that the figure that looked like Draco flushed a dark pink in response. "We're eloping. And we'd best be going, if we want Draco to live long enough to tell the tale."
"Remember, no making magic yourselves. Nothing but the broom and allowing the Switching Spell -- nothing traceable." Charlie stood on tiptoe to kiss his sister on her slightly stubbled cheek. "You know I trust you, but don't do anything I wouldn't do. Or most of the things I would."
***
They had been walking for hours and she was tired from the soles of her feet to the top of the shoulder on which she rested her broom. Ginny and Draco had made it past the house-elf at the Hogwarts front gate with ease; as a professor, Fleur could visit Hogsmeade any weekend she chose, and as a visitor Charlie Weasley was well past his welcome by the elf's reckoning. When Ginny grabbed Draco's hand and grinned widely at the elf, it had smiled sentimentally, though, or so Ginny thought. It was hard to tell with house-elves.
Luckily, they hadn't seen any cars along the narrow road even once they were well past Hogsmeade. Ginny's clothing was not outlandish enough to attract much attention, but she was acutely aware that Draco's long dress and cloak would be remembered. This, on top of the fact that she herself was carrying a broom. The day was bright and clear and they couldn't chance being spotted while airborne, so they had no choice but to walk for now. She had no idea where they were going but every time they came to a juncture Draco consulted his book and pointed the way.
Ginny stumbled, and Draco looked at her shrewdly. "How long did you fly last night? You must have been on a broom for hours."
"I don't know," she replied, "but it seemed like forever." As they rounded an outcropping of rock the distinctive sound of a stream tumbling over rocks reached them. With the sun approaching its zenith, they were both more than a little thirsty and Ginny was unused to feeling as warm as she did now, trapped in Charlie's body. "Let's stop until dark."
After a long drink, Ginny sluiced water over her face and neck and watched Draco try to drink and keep his hair out of the water at the same time. "Look at the back of my neck, will you? Is it red?"
Draco wrung out his hair and looked, dripping water down his robes and soaking them. "Gryffindor red. But you're still in disguise. You're a Dragonrider, you're a boy, and you are burnt to a crisp."
Ginny flicked a handful of water at him. "And you are a very pretty French girl. A dragon would eat you for lunch." She laughed Charlie's laugh, low and unfamiliar, and watched Fleur's haughty face twist into a pout.
They sat there a while, practically in the stream, letting the air that wafted from the water cool their cheeks and letting the gentle noise ease their fears, even if just for a few minutes. "Is it very far?"
Draco considered for a moment, squinting up at the sun through the branches of a few trees that shaded their spot. "Yes, but once it gets dark and we can fly we can go along faster."
Ginny nodded and moved away from the stream a few paces. She stretched out on her stomach on a mossy patch, pillowing her head on her arms and closing her eyes. The world smelled green, the breeze was gentle, and the air was quiet. A feeling of peace washed over her. It was a brief and welcome respite from the anxiety that had been plaguing her for the last day.
It was soon interrupted. "Er, Weasley. I have to, you know."
"What?" she murmured, eyelids heavy.
"I have to find a loo."
"Hmm."
"What am I supposed to do?" Draco’s high-pitched voice cracked with strain.
Ginny smiled. "Go behind a bush."
"And then what?" he demanded.
"Do what comes naturally."
"Weasley. You're not helping."
Ginny opened her eyes. "You really have no idea, do you?"
"No." His voice came from somewhere behind her now. "But I'm behind a bush. Several bushes. Now what?"
"Get your clothing out of the way. Knickers first."
"Fleur said not to touch anything... I don't know how I'm supposed to... " A few moments later, Draco called out again. "Done."
"Feet apart. Bend a little."
"Done."
"Now just, um, let it go." Ginny waited, but heard no more for several minutes.
The muffled sound of cursing gradually grew closer and she heard Draco pass her and stomp toward the stream. "And a last bit of advice, Weasley, should you need it yourself. Water flows downhill."
Grinning, Ginny sat up and watched Draco gingerly dip the soles of his shoes in the stream. "Oh, it can't have been that bad."
"Just wait and see if I help you," Draco retorted.
"I happen to have six brothers. I'm pretty sure I've heard enough details to understand the plumbing." She flopped back down on her stomach.
"I don't want to know." Draco sat down a few feet away on a mossy patch of grass, picking at the strands. "You have too many brothers for your own good."
"True."
"And too many freckles."
"Well, you need a haircut and some trousers. Nobody's perfect. Are you trying to start with me?"
"No." Draco said nothing more, but picked up a handful of pebbles and began to pitch them into the stream with a steady rhythm.
"Do you think Voldemort is tracking us?" she asked, out of the blue.
The splash of pebbles stopped. " I don't know. He's not tracking Fleur and Charlie, at any rate."
Ginny’s eyes snapped open as she made a sudden connection. "Voldemort killed your mother, didn't he?"
Draco turned his head away. "In a manner of speaking."
Ginny waited, but Draco didn't begin to tell her more of his own accord like most people did when she decided to listen. "I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry."
"It -t -t's all r-right."
"Are you all right?"
"It's colder, being a g-girl." He wrapped his arms around himself, shivering.
Fear nipped at Ginny's thoughts. Could someone catch Dementor's Disease twice? She sprang to her feet and gathered the driest wood and leaves she could find, piling it all onto a gravelly patch. Patting Charlie's pockets, she found the book of matches that he always carried in case something happened to his wand. Soon flames flickered from between the branches. It wasn't the best, but it would have to do.
"Come here." Draco moved closer to the fire, and Ginny sat down behind him.
"What are you doing?" he asked, jaw taught with suppressed shivering.
"Your hair." Ginny pulled her fingers through the long blonde strands from root to end, separating and spreading the wet clumps to dry. She wondered if it was as soothing for him as it was for her, this mindless repetitive motion. "Want to hear a story?"
"F-fine."
"When I was in Romania, I went to a Dragonriders Society Flying. I'd taken the test, the written part, the day before I went. I barely got a passing mark on that. But next, after you take the test, you have to fly."
"Well, we all know how that ended. You were burnt to a crisp and eaten."
"I believe I'm telling this story, Malfoy."
"Ow! That hurts!"
"Sorry. Anyway, the next morning, very early, Charlie woke me up when it was still dark. I thought it was some sort of horrible prank at first. But he made me get dressed and outside, it was, I don't know how to explain it... It was chaos. Dragonriders everywhere, Apparating in practically on top of the dragons. The dragons were tethered with some sort of magical rope, and it took a dozen wizards just to keep the spell working. Some of the Dragonriders have flown more than a hundred times!" Ginny pushed a length of damp hair over Draco's shoulder to get it out of the way. It was pleasant, she decided, to untangle someone else's hair for a change.
"I tried to stay out of the way. Heal burns and things. I had decided not to ride anything that wasn't going to stay still long enough for me to get on it anyway -- did you know you have to jump on and hold on where you can? Then you have to fly around for a whole minute. They let the dragon have some rope, and it gets excited and tries to fly off, and ends up going in circles. Some of them throw their riders right away, others get frustrated that they can't get away and land before the minute is up. That doesn‘t count."
"Mmm," Draco mumbled, eyes closed.
"I was so busy healing Dragonriders and making lunches that I didn't see it. There was one little dragon, a Swedish Shortsnout, in a cage. They were taking her to a preserve in -- the Ukraine, I think it was. It was all so fast, they just took her out, and tied her, and I think she must have wanted to fly because she didn't try to throw me off at all..."
Draco's head lolled to one side, and Ginny laid him down before the fire. She touched his cheek tentatively. It was warm, as were his hands. Hope Fleur doesn't snore, Ginny thought, curling up beside him for a nap.
***
A quarter moon was up when Ginny woke. Something soft and silky was tickling her nose, and she brushed at it but it stuck to her face. It was Fleur's hair, and she had been sleeping on top of it.
She sat up quickly. Draco was awake and staring silently into the glowing coals. "Why didn't you wake me?" she asked. "It couldn't have been comfortable keeping still while someone slept on your hair."
Draco shrugged and sat up himself. "You needed rest." He handed her a piece of chocolate and a sweet bun, the only food Fleur had at hand when they left in such a hurry.
A few wispy clouds hung high in the sky, but there was little wind. It was the kind of night that Ginny loved to fly in. They huddled low over the broom and made swift time, crossing low over the mountains. Draco pointed out a pair of osprey that circled silently below, near the pines that marked the treeline of the Cairngorms. He checked the stars and the copy of Magical Geography, correcting her from time to time, to keep her west... always west. Over Ben Nevis. Over Glenfinnan Monument. West to where the salty air meant the sea. They flew low over a sign reading 'Mallaig,' still hours before dawn.
They made a soft landing under cover of thick fog that rolled in from the water. No one was about as they walked down to the sea through dark streets. "One, two, three," Draco muttered under his breath. "Dock four and three-eighths. The ferry is here."
The only sound was the slap of water against pilings and cry of birds. Ginny closed her eyes. Once she spoke, it would be over. Draco would be on his way to safety, and she... she would be on her way to do what had to be done.
"Weasley."
She wasn't hearing this.
"Come with me."
"I can't. You know I can't. The dock won't let me through. I have to go back. But I have to know you're safe. That you made it." Ginny realized why she had never seen Charlie cry; it seemed that he felt queasy when he was sad. She clasped a hand over her stomach, trying to settle it.
"Then I'm not going either." Draco tilted his chin up defiantly and tossed his head, making his hood fall back and his hair catch in the wind. "We're partners. I'm going back with you and sod Voldemort. Let him try to find me."
Her stomach clenched. "I couldn't stand worrying. Please go, Draco. Please. You'll know I'm not in any danger if I don't follow you through. That I don't need sanctuary." She reached for his hand desperately, one last time, just to feel for herself that this was real before the end. It felt small and cold in hers, and they stood staring at the contrast between Fleur's tiny, pale hand and Charlie's muscled one. Draco pulled his hand away.
"You know, if I wasn't --" Draco grasped two handfuls of Fleur's skirt and dropped them. His image flickered as his will to hold the Switching Spell diminished, and for just a moment he looked like himself again.
Ginny replied, "I know." On impulse, she leaned down, smoothing away the strands of hair that fluttered in his eyes and kissed him on the forehead. "Hurry now, and if you don't see me..."
Draco raised one hand tentatively to the spot where her lips had been and nodded once before he stepped off the dock and into the fog.
Ginny looked at the place where Draco had been, and wondered. There was the chance that she was mistaken about everything, the chance that she needed safety and her family didn't, the chance that leaving the person she was pledged to protect in all things was the last thing she should do. But instead of following him, she took a step back, then another.
She flew into the sunrise, hurrying to get to Hogwarts. There was a risk of being seen but it didn't matter any more. The return trip was faster with only one rider on the broom. Somewhere along the way she found out Charlie could fly faster than anybody she knew (except possibly Harry) and that given enough time, even Charlie could cry.
The house-elf at the gates, a different one now, winked as she wrote her 'purpose for visiting' in the guestbook as 'visiting Professor Delacour' and ushered her through. She had to be quick. She slipped into Fleur's room, leaving Charlie's clothes in a pile on a sofa next to his sleeping form and let the spell go.
Feeling like herself again, she carefully lifted the bedsheet to see Draco's still form, sneering even in his sleep. It was slightly worrying to see that he hadn't released the Switching Spell yet, but perhaps he still had miles to go.
Another few minutes, and she was making her stealthy way into her dormitory. Years of practice helped her ease open her trunk without a sound, and she rummaged in the bottom until she came up with a single vial tied up in a note and some string. She unwrapped the scrap of parchment that she had used to write down the instructions for the Blushing Potion on the night before the winter solstice and hid it inside a book.
The potion had congealed. It was thick and black and sluggish inside the vial, and it coated the glass when she shook it gently. She popped the cork and recoiled from the smell of burnt sugar and rotten pumpkin. If it worked, she wouldn't blush when she lied. She wouldn't blush ever again, actually, but it had to be done.
Holding her nose, she drank it down with a shudder. Her stomach rebelled once, twice, but the potion stayed down and she took a small hand mirror from the depths of her trunk. Tabula rasa, it whispered.
Not a single freckle remained on her skin. Snape said there could be side effects. Tentatively, she flicked her collar to one side. Even her dragon tattoo was gone. She was unmarked from head to toe.
She would take nothing with her, so there was nothing to pack, but there was one last thing to do. She had to be sure that no one would come after her. Carefully, Ginny removed the crystal pin that she had received on the day she had officially completed her coursework at Hogwarts. She folded it into an envelope and addressed it to Dumbledore. Finally, she placed it on her pillow so that a house-elf would deliver it in her absence.
***
Molly Weasley sent an owl to a repair shop in Diagon Alley. Could someone come out to the Burrow and fix the family clock? Her daughter's hand had been stuck on 'traveling,' and was now pointing to 'mortal peril,' but she was actually quite safe at Hogwarts.
***
Though the waves leap, soft shall ye sleep
Ocean's a royal bed
Rocked in the deep, Flora will keep
Watch by your weary head --Harold Boulton, Skye Boat Song
To know your enemy, you must become your enemy... Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. - Sun Tzu
*******************
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Thanks to thecurmudgeons for beta reading this chapter. Last updated: June 1, 2003
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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.