Chapter Seven: Loud the Waves Roar
"Congratulations on passing your exams, Virginia." Dumbledore lifted a loop of scarlet ribbon ornamented with a small crystal pin. Ginny ducked her head, feeling the sharp point scrape against her cheek before the band fell down around her neck. She clutched the charm in her fist, watching the headmaster repeat the process with her classmates. Finally, he stood before the blackboard and addressed them all. "I am pleased to see before me the survivors of the first Integrated Magic Class at Hogwarts."
A collective exhalation of relief rippled around the room. The last month of intense revision and the comprehensive exams had set them all on edge, and if it was possible, the teachers had even darker circles under their eyes than the students. Ginny saw Hermione swaying with fatigue. Ron and Harry, reunited by their hovering concern, were each grasping her by an arm to keep her upright.
Dumbledore stood poised at the front of the room, hands clasped. "I thought I might say a few words on this historic occasion..." He looked around at each of them, as if waiting for some further cue to speak. The silence grew uncomfortably long. "Well," he said, finally, "off to lunch, then, and back here afterward for your next projects."
Ginny dragged herself downstairs to the Great Hall. She had Owled Bill, asking him to join her for lunch specially. Between their full schedules and Bill's insistence on living in Hogsmeade (rather than in the castle with the rest of the staff), they had hardly found a chance to meet and now half of November was gone. The mandatory lunch break Dumbledore had imposed on them for today was more than welcome and Ginny's exhaustion was mediated by the anticipation of spending a meal catching up with the brother she knew the least.
She checked at the threshold, realizing that she couldn't remember the last time she had eaten at her house table. A slice of bread folded around a bit of ham, a scone held carefully in her sleeve as she sneaked past Filch, or a hastily selected piece of fruit had been a meal while she pored over books in her dormitory (or in the Integrated Magic classroom when her roommates were present). The distinctions between House tables had blurred, and students mixed in multi-age clusters of bright color interspersed with the black robes of the lower level students. Ginny wasn't even sure where to begin looking for Bill, but finally located him halfway down what she thought of as the Ravenclaw table.
"Congratulations, Ginny. Dumbledore told me last night," Bill said in her ear as he enveloped her in a rough hug. "Mum's going to be so proud of you, Ron, and the twins -- Dad will be too, for that matter."
Ginny intended to ask Bill how he was faring, about her Mum and Dad, or if anyone had heard from Charlie, but what came out of her mouth instead was a pointed question. "What do you know? We're being separated from everyone. I want you to tell me why."
"Not here," Bill warned in a low voice. "We'll talk later. Hungry?" he asked, pushing a steaming platter of sausages in her direction. She reached for it but her elbow was jostled and her hand connected with a jug of pumpkin juice instead. The orange flood was absorbed by the tablecloth and a quick charm from Bill before it could drip onto her robes.
"Oops, sorry Gin," Fred grinned at her, sliding into the space at her right. George settled himself next to Bill as Ginny groaned inwardly. Her earlier joy at the prospect of a quiet meal with her oldest brother began to dissipate when Ron, Harry, and Hermione joined them as well.
Bill smiled around at them all, and teased Ginny good-naturedly. "Look at us! Forget the Hogwarts Cup, we could win the Quidditch World Cup, now that we've got a sneaky Weasley girl for a Chaser."
"Don't get Ron started," Harry warned at the same time Ginny protested that she wasn't really on the team. Hermione just rubbed her eyes and tilted her head downward, apparently having decided that a nap would be more interesting than another of Ron's rants.
"Honestly, if Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff don't beat Slytherin this year they can't tell their bum from their boots. At least we don't have to play them again, not that we can't beat them. I just hate playing against sodding bastards who can't keep away from my sister." Ron's voice had been growing steadily louder, and it was only a muffled grunt from Hermione at his cursing that gave him a moment's pause.
"I swear, I'll hang Malfoy up by his Bludgers if he--" Ron rolled his eyes when Hermione elbowed him, eyes open now and looking over her shoulder. "Ow, Hermione," he griped, rubbing his arm.
"Who's going to be hung up by their Bludgers?" Hearing his name, Draco Malfoy halted his progress along the tables toward an empty seat and waited, sneering, for a response from Ron.
Ron stood up and turned around slowly. "Your mother."
With one smooth swing, Draco had Ron across the table in a pile of overturned dishes, hands clasped over his nose. Students were standing up and pointing, Bill was coming around the table, and Harry was climbing over Hermione, to help Ron or to hold him back, Ginny wasn't sure, when a screeching sound filled the hall.
Owls of every shape and color were soaring in through the open windows, and soon the air was thick with a hail of red envelopes. A half-dozen of them found their way into Ginny's hands, and she turned them over in puzzlement, not recognizing the messy oval stamp on the seal. "Howlers," she said stupidly, just before one exploded in string of insults and sparks.
Ginny dropped them as Draco clapped his hands over her ears and wrenched her under a table. Somehow, she managed to cover his ears in return as they fell, buffeted by other students who had the presence of mind to join them. The hall shook with the sound of hundreds of Howlers exploding together, and Ginny's pulse beat out of rhythm as pieces of the ceiling began to fall and bounce off the floor. The wave of sound increased and Ginny squeezed her eyes shut in pain, pressing her forehead against Draco's chest.
She felt rather than heard it end. The tension in the air eased somewhat, and she was aware of rocking gently with the rise and fall of Draco's torso as he breathed under her in the dark. Ginny lifted herself up to crawl out from under the table. Draco grabbed her arm, but she shook it off to climb over several students. He followed at her heels, sneezing from the dust that hung in the air.
The first thing she saw was not the gaping hole in the center of the ceiling, or the shards of crockery and window glass, or the piles of stone that littered the hall. The first thing she saw was the blood on her hands, the same scarlet as the night she wrote a poem in one line: Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever. Her heart flipped over as the memories came flooding back.
open up and I'll go down
down down down
down to see him see his face I've done it have to see him
come along, Mudbloods ahead
Draco was shaking her by the shoulders, she finally realized, and she could see a crimson smear along his nape. His mouth moved, but she couldn't hear what he was saying. She lifted a hand to the wet rivulet running down her neck. It came away covered in blood and she wiped it on her robes until Draco grabbed her hand and made her sit down.
Dumbledore tore through the doorway with his wand drawn, followed by a half-dozen teachers who began to spread themselves throughout the hall. His face was livid and his mouth opened wide as he raised his arms, creating a whirlwind. Fallen rock drifted back toward the ceiling, windowpanes repaired themselves, and scattered silverware jumped back onto the tables to clear a path before him.
Ginny stared in shock as students began to emerge from beneath the tables. Harry, Hermione, and Ron struggled up from their shelter first, arms wrapped around one another. Dumbledore didn't bother with speech, but raised a questioning finger to Harry's scar. Wide-eyed, Harry shook his head in denial.
***
She rounded the corner of the castle. "Charlie!"
Charlie turned around to face her. "Brought you a present. Hurry, or Hagrid will come." He unlatched the cage and let her in.
"Ulrika," she breathed. She knelt down next to the dragon, still a baby, still only twice as long as a Firebolt. The dragon snorted a small blue flame. "Ulrika, my first."
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a silver dagger. "I need your heart. It will only be a little hurt." The blade slipped cleanly into the dragon's hide, and ruby threads spun down from the wound.
***
Ginny opened her eyes slowly, and just as quickly squeezed them shut. There was blood everywhere. After a time, she lifted her eyelids again, taking deep breaths as she recognized the familiar scarlet of the half-drawn bed hangings. Willing herself to be calm, she raised herself up on an elbow.
"You're awake," said Charlotte, crossing from the window to Ginny's bed. "Can you hear me?"
Ginny peeled off the bandages that encircled her head. "I can hear you," she replied in a raspy voice. "How did I get up here?" Ginny's roommate wasn't listening. She darted out the door, and returned with Alicia Spinnet.
Alicia sat down on Ginny's bed, feeling her forehead with one hand. "You can hear?" She checked Ginny's name off a list in her hand. "Any pain?"
Ginny wriggled her arms and legs experimentally. "No, not really. My throat is a little sore."
"If you're well enough, we could use another set of hands." Alicia had dark circles under her eyes, and her mint green robes were rumpled and dirty at the sleeves.
Ginny nodded. "Just let me wash up." She wobbled a bit getting out of bed.
In a few minutes, she was washed, dressed, and fairly alert. Charlotte was standing at the window again, but she turned around when Ginny came in. "You're to watch in here and in the third-year girls' room. Most should wake up today; get Alicia as soon as you notice so she can call for help if anyone didn't heal properly."
"Is anybody, and my brothers, did anybody --"
"Nobody died, just a lot of burst eardrums and broken bones and hysterics, and Madam Pomfrey didn't have room in the hospital wing so she gave everybody Sleeping Potions to keep them out from underfoot, I suppose. Classes are canceled until next week." Charlotte walked over to check on Iris, a petite girl who had an obsession with horses. She tucked the covers around her tightly. "Iris was one of the last to get treatment, so I don't expect her up until tomorrow. Rosemary and Pramita should wake up tonight, I think. They've all had some nightmares and might be disoriented."
Ginny felt a bit relieved, to tell the truth. If the Sleeping Potion caused nightmares, then that explained the dream about killing the dragon she had once flown. "And you?"
Charlotte wiped Rosemary's brow with a damp cloth. "I'm ready for lunch. You can take over. I'll bring back a plate for you. We've been eating in the library, but the Great Hall is supposed to be open again today or tomorrow." She handed Ginny the basin and rag and left.
Sighing, Ginny sponged Rosemary's forehead. She supposed it was unreasonable to think that Charlotte would want to sit and talk. Ginny had said barely two words to her during first year. It was no surprise that Charlotte didn't come back to relieve her until halfway through dinner.
***
Ginny met Colin coming down the stairs from the boys' dormitories, and they walked to dinner together.
"I wasn't there," Colin explained, "because I was developing some film. I snuck in to take some pictures of the Great Hall, and it's pretty well patched up now, but the ceiling's not enchanted anymore. I've also got some of Dumbledore putting up wards on the fences. It was smashing, really. I got to go out of the gates and try to send a Howler in, and it shriveled up like a prune."
A table in the library had been spread with juice, soup, and sandwiches. A house-elf waited to replenish any empty platters while Madam Pince stood to one side, glaring at the very unacademic use of the furnishings and occasionally swooping down to brush away at stray crumbs. Ginny and Colin loaded their plates and Ginny headed for a nearby seat.
"What are you doing? C'mon, Gin." Colin jerked his head toward the archway at the back of the library. Curious, Ginny followed him through to a spiral staircase that led up and down from the landing. Colin led her down and through another smaller arch to a cozy, round room with a number of desks and squashy chairs. He laughed awkwardly. "The fourth year room. I guess you've never been in here before."
Ginny shook her head. It was a comfortable room, decorated so as to be house-neutral. One could study with a group, but one could also sit apart without seeming distant. It was a room for making friends. Ginny wondered what it would have been like to study in here instead of the Integrated Magic Classroom. Probably a lot noisier. Probably a lot simpler.
"This year wasn't at all what I expected," she said, out of nowhere.
"Ditto," Colin agreed.
Within a fortnight, Madam Pomfrey released the last student from the hospital wing, a Howler check was set up at the front gates, and the population of Hogsmeade doubled. Surely, if an attack can be made on a location as secure as Hogwarts none of us has any chance in our own homes, popular opinion ran. Safer to be nearby, to be around others of our own kind. Whatever question had been in anyone's mind about the second rise of Voldemort disappeared, although the papers and the Ministry tried to deny such a happening.
It was almost a month, though, before students stopped ducking when the mail was delivered.
***
Ginny, Hermione and Lavender were putting the finishing touches on the final draft of a group essay on advanced Transfiguration Techniques when Neville came bursting into the Integrated Magic classroom. He was clutching a cauldron in his arms and wore an expression of bliss on his face. "Look what Cho gave me for my birthday!"
Neville sat down at the table beside them and tilted his newest cauldron (which was only slightly melted in on one side) so that they could all see. Ginny peeked over the edge of the cauldron which held a half-dozen tadpoles, with fins like bat wings, wriggling back and forth in the water. From time to time, one would clear the surface in an arc, wings flapping wildly, before hitting the water again with a splash. "She said she wanted to borrow Trevor for a bit, and just today she gave me these. Oh, Gran's going to be amazed when she finds out Trevor was a girl all this time!"
"Cho made you flying tadpoles?" Ginny asked, incredulous. "Why would she do that?"
"Dunno," replied Neville. "She said they might come in handy later."
Hermione broke in. "Toads are always handy. Lots of curses involve toads, somehow, and they're so useful in potions."
Lavender stood up as George and Padma entered carrying armloads of Astronomy texts. She scowled faintly at Padma, and tugged George over to see Neville's present. "Look what Neville got from Cho for his birthday. She must really fancy him, to take the time to make something from her heart. I wonder what you've been up to, all these hours when I can't find you, with Christmas so close," Lavender hinted coyly.
George's expression grew thoughtful. "I thought she had something going on with Krum. I keep seeing them around Snape's office. Krum assists with some of the classes, but I don't know why they'd be hanging about together."
"Cho really likes Potions," Neville said defensively. "She's really smart and she always wants to know how things work. She's been helping me with all kinds of things. She told me to read Potions directions slowly, imagining the ingredients growing in a garden and harvesting them at the right times. I don't mess up half so often as before."
Fred came in, Parvati trailing him. "Those things look positively evil, Neville. Where did you find them?"
"They're not evil," Neville protested forcefully. "Just because you two leave Canary Creams and Ton-Tongue Toffee all about for people doesn't mean that Cho wants to turn me into a toad." He grabbed up his cauldron and headed the long way around the table.
Fred and George circled around to meet him. "Now see here, Neville, he didn't mean it to sound --" George broke off as Neville stumbled over a chair leg in an attempt to get by them. Neville went reeling into Fred's side, and the twins rolled onto the tabletop.
"Geroff, George," Fred grunted, reaching out an arm to heave himself out from where his brother lay across his legs. His hand connected with the crystal dome in the center of the table, and his head snapped back, mouth working wordlessly.
George spoke for both of them, his eyelids twitching. "History repeats itself. The cry of the reborn will open the tree and take the source down into the roots. History repeats itself. History repeats itself. History, history, history," George chanted in a slurred voice.
Lavender shouldered her way past the Patil twins and grabbed George's hands, ignoring Hermione's sharp don't. She pulled twice before George slid onto the floor. "George," she sobbed, wrapping her arms around his neck.
His anger forgotten, Neville helped Fred to his feet, and his rambling apologies covered the sound of Lavender's sobs.
"I'm sorry. I was so frightened, and you looked so strange. You were somewhere far away where I couldn't reach you anymore." Ginny thought Lavender clutched George as if he would run off right then and there.
George patted Lavender on the shoulder weakly. "Don't worry. We'll always be together."
***
That evening, Ginny sat on the floor outside the Integrated Magic classroom with Draco, waiting for Flitwick to call them inside to take their Catapultus Charm exam. Professor McGonagall nodded to them down the corridor as she crossed the landing on her way downstairs, but other than that the halls were deserted and dark. All the other student pairs had come out of the room looking pleased with themselves except Seamus and Blaise, who had been inside for nearly a half hour.
"What do you suppose is taking them so long?" Ginny asked Draco, who was trying to fit a shoulder between two paintings so that he could lean against the wall without much success.
"I imagine they aren't finished," he replied, giving up on finding a comfortable position. He picked up his copy of Which Broomstick and got to his feet, ignoring the three dairymaids who kept inviting him to “lean over here, ducks.”
"Are we going to pass this exam?" Ginny asked suddenly.
Draco lowered his magazine. "Does it matter? What are they going to do, give us bad marks and tell us we can't leave until we get it right?"
"We should have practiced. We've had plenty of time." She poked him in the foot with a toe. "Where have you been, lately? I know we haven't had any assignments together, but that's no reason to avoid coming here entirely. I've been meaning to tell you..."
"You've been meaning to tell me that I should show up and take your brothers three on one? Because I'm not the type to divide my attentions, and I just don‘t have enough arms."
"...Thank you," Ginny finished.
"Thank you for beating up your brothers? I've only hit the one, and he deserved it." Draco's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I'd take on the rest, but that would mean clearing my calendar for some time. You have too many siblings for your own good."
"For getting me out of the way," Ginny said. "You didn't have to drag me under the table when the Howlers came in. And, you hate Weasleys but you kept me from crashing during the Quidditch match. I don't understand you at all, Malfoy."
Draco turned his head away so Ginny couldn't see his face. "Sometimes," he began slowly, "you make me so--"
"No, I've had enough! I'm not trying again!" Blaise appeared into the hallway, hair disheveled and tears running down her face. She stepped on Ginny's robes as she took off at a run down the corridor and ran smack into Professor McGonagall, who was, much to Ginny's surprise, coming down the stairs again. When did she go back up?
"Miss Zabini, please slow down," McGonagall barked, but Blaise swerved around her and sprinted off.
Seamus and Professor Flitwick came into the hallway looking worried. "Perhaps someone should go after her... Miss Weasley?" Flitwick wrung his hands.
"She'll be in our common room before Weasley can catch her." Draco stood up. "I'll go."
***
"Why are you here?" Draco demanded of the girl on top of the green counterpane.
"This is my dormitory, and since I am finally released from having roommates, I find it a pleasant place to be. You know how I hate sharing a wing with my parents -- imagine what five in a room can do to a girl."
"I want a better answer."
"I'm trying to get away from bastards like you who won't leave me alone." Blaise replied, muffled by the green velvet pillow that she clutched over her head.
"That's not what I mean, and you know it, Blaise." Draco wrenched the pillow out of her arms and tossed it aside.
"What do you mean, then?" Blaise sat up and gave him a hard look.
Draco sat down next to her on the bed. "I mean, why aren't you at Durmstrang? Everyone else is. Everyone of good family and connections to the Dark Lord, anyway."
"Except you," countered Blaise.
"Except me," Draco agreed. "I know what I'm doing here."
"You're not doing it very well."
Draco had no reply.
"I expect you know, then," Blaise continued, "if it occurs to them to ask me where your loyalties lie, I will have to tell them the truth."
Draco looked her over. "He thinks he can trust you."
"True. But that doesn't mean I don't send information. He must know, he always knows things and no one can figure out how. He hasn't stopped me." Blaise glanced at a photo of her parents where it rested on the dresser next to her bed. "We're being used, all of us. When everything falls apart, and it's coming soon, I'm better off out of the way. I'd throw any of you to the dogs, but I won't betray him."
"That's a contradiction in itself, isn't it?" Draco rose and walked out, shutting the door without a sound.
***
Professor Flitwick, finally realizing that Draco wasn't likely to return anytime soon, sent Ginny off with the promise to reschedule her exam later. She wandered up the stairs, and nearly ran into Bill as he exited the Ancient Runes classroom. "Bill, have you heard from Mum and Dad? I know that the owls are slow now, but Mum usually writes a note every week to check up on us." She looked around. "What are you doing here so late?"
"Just helping Miss Chang with some research."
Cho appeared in the doorway behind Bill, wearing a half-smile that disappeared when she noticed Ginny. She closed the book in her hands and nodded to Bill before taking her leave.
“Mum and Dad are fine. They worry about us all, of course. Dad’s been busy at the Ministry, people have been disappearing...” he shook his head. “There are a lot of strange rumors going around.”
“You’d best be careful you don’t start any of your own,” Ginny replied, gently. “I know that Cho was probably given a project to work on and needed your help, but working all alone with her this late at night looks suspicious.”
Bill looked annoyed. “I’m not interested in Miss Chang, if that’s what you’re insinuating.”
“She might be interested in you.” Ginny examined her fingernails.
“I hadn’t thought of it like that,” Bill said, chagrined.
Ginny punched her brother lightly on the arm. “Just looking out for you.”
Bill bent quickly to plant a kiss on her forehead. "And I thank you, but remind you that it's not your job." He gave her a half-smile. "Leave off with the worrying, that's for grown-ups."
Ginny watched him go and was turning to go on herself when she noticed a satchel left on a desk in the Ancient Runes classroom. It had to be Cho's. Anyone leaving it during the day would have noticed it missing by now and come back to claim it.
Her fingers twitched with curiosity. What did Cho need to carry around in such a large schoolbag for a tutoring session? In spite of her past luck opening things that weren't hers, Ginny found herself walking forward.
After a moment's hesitation upon seeing the initials CC, Ginny looked around quickly and peered inside the pouch. Inside were several labeled vials: Jobberknoll feathers, Runespoor eggs, powdered Ashwinder eggs, Murtlap pickles. An odd assortment. She had barely closed it again when Cho came into the room, distracted.
"You forgot your things," Ginny exclaimed hastily, feeling herself turn a guilty pink. "I was trying to figure out the owner." She held out the bag for Cho to take. Cho, much to Ginny's relief, made no comment other than a mumbled thanks before exiting with it.
***
Neville was waiting outside the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. “’Lo, Gin,” he said glumly.
Not another mood swing, she thought. Neville always had more than his share of jumps from average to bad with the exceptionally rare good moment thrown in. Even though Ginny could understand his emotional sea changes she didn't want to be his shoulder every moment of the day.
"All right there, Neville?" she asked, trying to mask the lack of enthusiasm she felt.
"Just cold. Cho was supposed to come and get me after she went to her common room for a book. We have a Potions report to finish."
"She was with Bill," Ginny said, and then wondered if she shouldn't have kept her mouth shut. Neville was waiting for an explanation apprehensively. "I guess she had another assignment to finish."
Neville looked disappointed. "She gets so distracted by things when she's studying. Forgets where she's supposed to be."
A realization came to Ginny. "She's left you out on a limb before, hasn't she? She's no good, Neville. It's no good loving people who don't return your feelings." You're the blackest pot of them all, a voice inside her head pointed out unhelpfully.
"I don't believe that," Neville burst out. "It can't hurt people at all when you care about them, even if they don't care about you. Even when they never think about you or know you exist or remember your name. I have to believe in her, Gin. She's helped me more than she ever had to. I have to believe there is something more in her than what you see." His face crumpled and he looked as if he were about to cry.
"I'd hate to see you hurt, Neville, that's all. I didn't mean anything by it." She raised her hands in supplication. Neville's anger was spent, and he let Ginny lead him into the common room.
***
"How did you afford another broom?" Draco asked, surprised, as Ginny landed precariously on the slick roof of the Astronomy Tower next to where he perched.
"What are you on about now?" Ginny slid an inch or two downward before she was able to brace herself with hands and feet.
"You're flying again. Who got you a broom?" he demanded.
"I've had a broom, you twit. Stop trying to change the subject," Ginny said.
"What subject?" Draco looked genuinely confused.
"Charms. Did you and Zabini plan that little drama together so that you wouldn't have to show just how little faith you have in me?"
Draco scowled, twisting the straws at the tail of his broom. "Zabini and I don't plan anything together. I would even say that we work quite independently of one another."
"So you and I are going to pass when Flitwick gives us the exam, then?" Ginny asked, eyebrows high under the hood she pulled up against the snow that was soaking through her cloak. The movement was enough to compromise her position on the steep roof and send her sliding in slow motion toward the edge.
Draco shifted over and wrapped an arm tightly around her waist, stopping her downward progress. "I think this is why people generally meet inside the Astronomy Tower instead of on top," he said against her ear.
Now Ginny looked confused. "Because the roof is too steep for me to sit on?"
"Stop trying to change the subject." He swiftly covered her mouth with his, muffling her response. His arm trapped her against his chest and snow fell from his hair to dust her cheeks. Draco's lips moved urgently against hers until she tilted her head to the side and yielded to him, tasting spices and cider. Ginny's hands drifted up to clutch at his shoulder, to twine in his hair, to feel that place on his throat where his blood pounded to match her own.
She thought nothing could matter except the rushing blur of his kiss when she felt Draco's hand trace an experimental arc against her side. Oh. Sparks of pleasure followed and she shivered involuntarily. Third boy's a charm.
Draco pulled away. "You're cold," he said, misreading her reaction. Without the distraction of his lips on hers, Ginny felt the chill suddenly and harshly.
You did say you weren't going to do that, ever, her conscience reminded her with reproach.
Liar.
"We shouldn't be out here," she agreed, reaching for her broom and removing herself from his grasp.
"There's usually a window open," Draco began, before a caterwauling came from the tower below them. It was accompanied by muffled cries of encouragement, praises to several deities, and general thrashing about.
"Think I'll go the long way," Ginny said, taking off quickly. She didn't dare look back. She didn't know what would happen if she did.
***
Ginny opened the common room window she had left unlatched and came to rest in the frame, leaving her broom on the sill as was her habit when at home. As she climbed to the floor, she could see two figures silhouetted before the fire. One rested a head on the other's shoulder, and they weren't talking or, worse, snogging. Maybe if she stayed down and hugged the wall, she could slip around and up the stairs...
"Sneaky Weasley girl my arse."
Ginny froze on the first step. She turned around to face Fred, who was cuddling rather innocently with Angelina on the couch. Angelina's eyes widened. Ginny had the distinct feeling that Angelina wasn't crediting her bedraggled state to the snow.
"Um, I guess sneakiness doesn't run in the family, George." She ducked up the stairs, promising herself that she would apologize and explain to Angelina later.
She ran into Harry coming down. Literally.
"Ow." Harry rubbed his side ruefully. "Come on, Ginny." He stopped to stare at her a moment, and she noticed that he didn't linger on her wet robes and dripping plaits, but on her face. Ginny blushed hotly and followed him back through the common room, where Angelina had removed herself to a different chair and was glaring daggers at Fred.
Harry led her out through the portrait hole, and made sure it closed behind them. He looked around a moment, fumbled with his cloak, and put his arms around her.
"Harry?" Ginny asked. Am I going to be kissed by my two favorite men in one day? A second, less girly voice in her head cut in. Since when do you have two favorite men? You must still be lightheaded, look, everything's blurry.
It took Ginny a moment to realize that they were under some sort of cloth. She touched the thin fabric with one finger. "Are we going camping?"
"Er, it's an Invisibility Cloak." Harry looked at her nervously. "I've had it since first year."
Ginny understood immediately. "I won't tell anyone. Not even Dumbledore could get it out of me."
Harry grinned. "Dumbledore already knows." He leaned in closer to her, and Ginny thought he really was going to kiss her until he gently turned her around so that she faced away from him.
He steered her through the hallways, one hand on the small of her back and the other holding the cloak away from her face. Ginny had to admire the way the cloak allowed them to avoid prefects and teachers alike. Ghosts were another matter, apparently.
Harry grabbed her around the waist suddenly, pulling her backward into a shallow alcove behind a suit of armor. He clapped one hand over her mouth and pulled her tight against his chest.
"Mmf," Ginny protested, or, at least, thought she protested. Being manhandled by Harry Potter had been on her wish list for some time, after all.
"Shush," Harry breathed, face in her neck as Peeves bounced off the wall opposite their hiding place. She closed her eyes as a recollection came to her from a long-forgotten dream. Draco wrapped his arms around her, and she tilted her head back to rest against his shoulder. She felt Harry's arms tighten as she leaned her head back slowly, and they froze, silent, until Peeves rounded a corner.
Ginny waited. Should she turn around, as she had in her dream? Did she want to? Harry's hand brushed lightly against her waist, and she waited for a sign that she should move. Finally, he placed his hands on her shoulders and guided her up a curving set of stairs.
***
"Come here, Ginny," Harry whispered hoarsely, a look of fierce concentration burning in his green eyes. He stretched an arm out, indicating where she was to stand.
Dimly, she heard a clock chiming midnight. She pushed still-damp tendrils of hair out of her eyes, trying to see Harry better. The flickering lamps made the room appear to be fading, and it was so difficult to focus on anything but him. She took a step forward, then another, until his face swam just before hers -- swaying -- or was she the one swaying?
Harry considered his wand for a moment. He turned it slowly from end to end with long, pale fingers. His voice shook slightly. "Ginny."
Ginny did not reply, but her body stilled as she came to attention.
"I can't stand it anymore." Harry raised his wand. "Finite Incantatem." Ginny stumbled forward, and he helped her to the nearest chair. Harry's face was a nauseated green.
"Well, Virginia?" Dumbledore leaned a hip against his desk.
"Everything turns blue, just like when..." Ginny bent down and reached for the floor. The room was spinning too fast.
"Should I get Madam Pomfrey?" Harry knelt next to Ginny's chair and rubbed her back awkwardly, his expression anxious.
"She'll be fine in a moment, Harry. Your Imperius is getting stronger faster than she can learn to resist it." Dumbledore stroked Fawkes' head on the way back to his seat. "She had barely any resistance to begin with."
Ginny listened to them talk about her as if she weren't even in the room. She supposed that she wasn't; her thoughts were taken up with the task of reorienting her body to the physical world. Being under the Imperius Curse was floating lazily in a warm pond. Resisting Harry was jumping into the North Sea in January: prickling, icy, indifferent pain. She closed her eyes and rested her forehead on her knees as Harry and Dumbledore conversed quietly.
Suddenly, Harry hauled her to her feet and opened the office door. "Goodnight, Professor Dumbledore," she murmured as she passed Harry and stepped onto the stairs. She trudged drowsily toward the Gryffindor common room, this time beside Harry underneath the invisibility cloak.
The Fat Lady had hardly swung closed when Harry began apologizing profusely.
"I'm sorry Ginny, I'm so sorry. I've been working on resisting the Imperius Curse, and I thought that you might have missed learning about it. It's my fault. I told Professor Dumbledore that you should practice too. I know you must have been under it, down in the Chamber --" Harry paced back and forth before the portrait hole. "I never thought I would need to know how to do it myself. I'm sorry I let Professor Dumbledore convince me to put it on you."
Ginny was almost too tired to be hearing this. "Harry, you need the practice. So do I, or I wouldn't have agreed to it. At least I can resist Dumbledore sometimes, now. It wasn't so bad, really," she finished, even as she felt her face warm at the lie.
"You shouldn't have to feel it at all. I hated doing that. You're... like family, Ginny." Harry looked at her pleadingly.
Ginny studied Harry. He looked desperate for absolution. Family. "So are you. I'll forgive you under one condition."
"Anything," Harry blurted, already looking relieved.
"Let me borrow your cloak tonight."
***
Ginny slipped through the dungeon corridors while trying not to trip over the hem of Harry's cloak. When she reached her destination, she folded it tightly into a pocket in accordance with Harry's instructions that she was not to let anyone see her using it. Taking a deep breath, she entered the Potions classroom.
Snape was awake and at work, as she had suspected he might be. He did not look up as he dipped his quill into the bottle of ink at his side, and continued writing even as he spoke. "Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Weasley, for bothering me in the middle of the night."
The worst part was out of the way to Ginny's thinking. "How do you make an Imperius Potion?"
"You do not. There is no such thing." Snape put down his quill and fixed her with a cold glare. "What, may I ask, is this about?"
Ginny gathered her courage. She had to know. "When we took the test, with the potion, at the beginning of the year, everything was blue, and Harry and I were looking around," she paused momentarily as Snape's eyebrows raised. "And, when I'm under the Imperius Curse, I feel the same way as I did then, except I can't shake it off." She stubbed a toe into the stone floor. "I thought that maybe I could build up an immunity to the potion, and that might help with resisting the curse."
"As I said before, there is no such thing as an Imperius Potion." Ginny's shoulders drooped, and she turned to leave, but Snape continued. "The potion you drank was Veritaserum, with some other ingredients so that you would... feel free to elaborate on your answers. Professor Dumbledore desired honest answers to his questions, which is why you weren't allowed to read them, either. I suppose both the curse and the serum have an impact on your free will."
He turned back to his work. "Before you ask, you cannot build up an immunity to Veritaserum. It affects the body in much the same way as arsenic: a little over time won't harm you, slightly more will make you ill, and regular ingestion of a quantity will kill you." Snape's lips quirked ever so slightly. "We can't have you coming down with any Magically Transmitted Diseases again, Miss Weasley."
Ginny shouldered her disappointment. "Oh well," she shrugged in an attempt at humor, "it doesn't matter, then. Even if I were to build up an immunity, I always blush when I'm lying. No potions for that, I suppose." Ginny waited for a response, or at least a dismissal.
"One must consider the side effects." Snape did not meet her eyes, but ran one hand over his left forearm as if he felt a chill. "Goodnight, Miss Weasley. Lock the door when you leave, or it will be one hundred points from Gryffindor."
Snape left Ginny in standing in the middle of his office with only a candle for company.
***
Ginny lifted her head and scrubbed at her cheek with one hand. She wasn't sure what had awakened her, but she had been drooling and her face was damp (as was the book she had been resting on).
Rubbing at a kink in her neck, she looked around. A tiny flame, sputtering atop a candle stub, revealed her surroundings. Ginny let out a squeak as she realized that she had fallen asleep, however briefly, over Snape’s desk. It must be nearly breakfast, because the candle was about to gutter out in a pool of wax. She quickly scribbled a few last lines onto a scrap of parchment before setting the desk to rights, returning the book to a shelf, and snuffing the sputtering flame. I do not want to be here when Snape comes back.
A dim shaft of light bisected the room where the door was slightly ajar. As she groped her way toward the door, a wet scuffling met her ears. Curious, she leaned her forehead against the gap to peer into the Potions classroom.
Cho was standing over her cauldron. Its blue flame lit her face from below, giving it a menacing, skeletal cast. She was muttering and struggling with something on the table. Finally, she lifted a knife.
Three things happened at once: Neville came in, Cho made her cut, and Trevor emitted a final gasp. Neville ran toward Cho with an almighty yell of rage and only the flash of the thin silver blade in her hand prevented him from reaching his beloved pet.
"I'm sorry, Neville. You weren't meant to see this." Cho kept the knife leveled at Neville to block his passage.
Neville trembled from head to toe. "How could you? I trusted you. You said you would help."
"I am."
Neville finally broke, tears welling up in his eyes as he shook his head while spinning and bolting from the room. Cho, in contrast, turned back to her work with a detached calm. She grimly carved and added the rest of her ingredients to the mixture before removing the cauldron from the heat and bottling the potion in vials. In a few minutes, the classroom was quiet and empty once more.
Eastern star will break his heart...
"Solstice," Ginny whispered to herself.
***
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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.