Breaking the Habit
Chapter I:
"Ginny. Ginny. Ginny, wake up!"
Ginny groaned and batted Hermione's hand away; turned over and buried her head in the blankets. From her little tent she heard Hermione snort indignantly and smiled in satisfaction. It was Saturday. There were no classes today and she would sleep as long as she wanted. Unfortunately for her, however, Hermione didn't have the same thing in mind…
Hermione grabbed her blanket again and with one sharp tug, pulled it away. Without opening her eyes, Ginny swatted out with her hands. She heard her friend whine "Ginny…"
Ginny sighed heavily and sat up in bed. She brushed the hair away from her eyes and tucked it behind her ear, frowning. Rubbing her eyes, she drawled: "Fine…fine…I'm up. Why do I have to get up?"
Ginny yawned while Hermione pouted. "Because, you promised you'd help me study while Ron and Harry are in detention. We could be leaving any day and I want to get as much in as I can!"
She kicked her legs over the side of her bed and nodded drowsily. "Yeah…Yeah…I remember now," She stopped in the middle of the dormitory and raised her eyebrows. "Oi, can you leave while I get dressed, please?" Hermione stiffened, and chortled, waving her hands.
"Oh, of course, right. I'll wait for you in the Common Room." The bushy-haired girl disappeared behind the door.
Ginny sighed, and before undressing she looked about the empty room. All four beds –as of now- were empty, their crimson sheets glowing in the golden morning light. At the foot of one of the beds, a trunk lay with a curvy 'G' carved into the crown; Ginny's trunk. It was ancient, and she was sure it had belonged to an old relative with a name beginning with 'G', for it was a beautiful chest, really, and she didn't think her parents could afford something so nice just for her.
She swiped her eyes around the room a second time, finding comfort and warmth in its red-and-gold color. It held a cheery, inviting atmosphere, she had decided, and familiar. Maybe too familiar. Her whole family had red hair –she was, admittedly, a bit tired of the color- but it was comforting all the same.
Shrugging off the thought, she picked out a clean shirt and skirt and pulled them on. Instead of brushing her hair, she simply tied it back in a ponytail. She didn't bother with any make-up. Normally, she didn't bother with it much anyway. Maybe a little cover-up here and there everyone now and then, and some mascara and eyeliner for formal events and parties, but she wouldn't need any helping Hermione study.
She frowned and rolled her eyes. The 'trio' had already made plans to leave Hogwarts to find the last of the Horcruxes. They even had McGonagall's permission, which was something she thought was bullshit. If they wanted to leave, they shouldn't have even come. It's not like Ron and Harry were going to worry about classes as much as they would be anticipating the announcement of the next Horcrux.
Harry. The name, even in her mind, made her want to puke. Harry, the one who had said he loved her, only to throw her away with the excuse of 'It won't be safe'. Harry, the one who still insisted on taking Hermione and Ron along –but leaving her behind. They'd be in just as much danger as she would be! Harry, the one who she plain out refused to talk to anymore.
She was glad he was in detention. For once she was glad to have a nasty substitute for Potions. Not as nasty as Snape had been, but close enough to hate Harry.
She found Hermione and surprisingly Lavender Brown in the Common Room. Hermione was attempting to 'subtly' glare at Lavender (she wasn't sure whether or not Hermione had ever gotten over the whole 'Ron and Lavender' relationship last year but this certainly was leading her to say 'Nope!'), but she too busy chatting with Dean. She scoffed mentally. Dean was such a buffoon and Lavender couldn't be described any better than as a whore-in-training (if not a whore already). They'd make such a lovely couple.
Ignoring Dean and Lavender, she bounced over to Hermione, smiled, and started to the portrait hole. "Come on, Hermione," she mocked, "Hurry."
"Oh," The brown haired with started, "you're one to talk." Ginny stuck out her tongue.
"You are so immature!"
"Well now, I'm only a sixth year, though."
"Whatever…Let's just go."
The conversation continued like that until they reached the library, where they were shushed by the librarian for their 'meaningless jabber'. Her coffee-colored eyes swooped over the library, and with a frown of disappointment, gazed at its emptiness. It was the first bloody Saturday of the school year for Merlin's sake! And it was –as a quick glimpse to a window confirmed- a beautiful day outside! If she was going to be awake, she wanted to be outside in the sunshine –not in the library quizzing Hermione.
She opened her mouth to protest, but her friend had already opened her big, smart mouth. "I thought we could work on Charms today and then Transfiguration tomorrow and Sunday-"
"You don't expect me to spend every Saturday and Sunday helping you study, do you?" She asked, a bit aggravated now. That girl can be such a pain; I can't believe she wants me to do this all the time! I have a life too. It might not be as glamorous as hers, the whole –'defeating the Dark Lord'- but I have one! And it doesn't revolve around Hermione being the best in class!
As the brunette sat down, she blinked. "Well, I thought that if you didn't mind…I could really use the help."
"Hermione!" She exclaimed, parking herself in a seat opposite of Hermione. "I don't want to waste all my weekends helping you study for the NEWTS you're probably never going to take! Really, Hermione, don't you think Voldemort is going to take some sort of action before the year is over? And think of the Order! They're probably on the trail of another Horcrux as we speak."
Her friend sulked, "Yes, but it can't hurt to cram, can't it? I mean, we're going to be in and out of the school the whole year and-"
"Okay, so you don't want my help with the important things, but you want me to be your study-buddy and pretend like you never even said I couldn't go? No!" She retorted bitterly, "No! I can take care of myself. I can help. I mean, I could help –if you three would let me! But no, you still think I'm as small and manipulative as I was five years ago!"
"We do not! Ginny, you've got it all wrong!" Hermione seemed genuinely taken aback, but Ginny didn't listen. She shook her head vigorously, her classical Weasley mane of red slashing at the air. "No, Hermione, I don't want to hear it!"
By now, she was practically screaming. The librarian stomped over and began guiding her out the door, pushing her gently and telling her to pipe down if she wanted to stay, but she was already storming out the door. "I think I will be leaving, thank you!"
Without another word, she stomped down the corridor, muttering several disjointed and muddled swears and distasteful curses. How dare she? How dare she! They treated her like a child; like a little, wailing, crying kid. And then –and then- they expect to be her friends and joke and play around all day. Well, no thank you!
She fumed all the way down to the Great Hall, where she had from the start been subconsciously headed to. The low grumbling in her stomach didn't lighten her mood in the slightest of bits either. In fact, it worsened them. Plopping down stiffly at the Gryffindor table, she started grabbing whatever took her fancy and ate in silence. The incident with Hermione had taken up more time than she had first presumed, and because of it the Great Hall was practically empty. Perhaps that was a good thing; she was in such a sour mood at the moment she didn't want to deal with anyone.
There were a couple people still eating, or that had slept late and had just gotten up, she saw. Ernie McMillan and Neville Longbottom (whom she had sat as far away from as possible, not being in the mood to chat) were a few she recognized, as well as Draco Malfoy. What is he doing here? This was the very first time she had seen him here, and she was surprised he was here at all. Many of the Slytherins had failed to turn up this year, mostly the older ones who, Ginny supposed, were aiding the Dark Lord.
So, Ginny pondered, why wasn't Malfoy with them? He tried to kill Dumbledore last year, why did they even allow him back in? I know I wouldn't have let him. Bloody git. Bloody ferret git.
Malfoy especially should not have come. Did he honestly think that no one would remember what happened last year? How think can you get?
She suddenly wished she had been more attentive the past summer in reading the new issues of the Daily Prophet. For most of the summer she had just skimmed the articles. The stories involving battles and Voldemort schemes had quickly become monotonous and dull, and so she just skipped anything that had the title 'Death of ', 'New reports of Dark wizard activity' and the like. And her summer had been cheerier without them.
Mmm, she thought, finishing off her pumpkin juice and a scone, Luna might know.
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She found Luna outside by the lake, reading the latest edition of the Quibbler upside down.
"Hey, Luna." She said, taking a seat against a tree. The blonde girl looked up from her reading and smiled dreamily. "Hello Ginny, how are you?"
"Fine, thanks." She replied. Crossing her legs Indian style and leaning forward, she continued. "I have a question." Her head cocked to the side curiously, and a cascade of loose ruby locks fell aloof about her face. Though the majority of her hair was set back in a ponytail, the shorter ones that cropped her face had all fallen loose, and along with her soft brown eyes, it gave her a very innocent and carefree appearance.
"Go right ahead," The blonde nodded and shut the magazine. Since her father was the editor of a magazine, she was bound to know something about Malfoy and why he was here at Hogwarts.
"I wanted to know if you knew anything about Malfoy. He attempted murder on Dumbledore last year; why did he come back here?" Okay, so she had planned for it to be subtle, but it all came out in one blunt statement.
Luna was unperturbed about the question –as she was with everything- and nodded slowly, her bangs bouncing. "Yes, Father told me that the Ministry was saying something about Lucius Malfoy disappearing over the summer and how there were accusations saying he finally just up and went to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Of course some people doubted that for various reasons, but I think it was a stray Higglyfink that mistook Mr. Malfoy as something to eat. They are notorious for that sort of thing."
Ginny's brows jumped in surprise. "Voldemort?"
Luna cringed at the name.
The blonde girl nodded slowly. "Yes, that's what the Ministry says. They just don't want to admit that they can't keep the Higglyfinks under control."
"That still doesn't explain why he came back." She scowled. Luna simply shrugged and picked up the Quibbler again, "Sorry, that's all I know."
Exhaling a heavy sigh, she settled down and linked her fingers behind her head. "Well, thanks Luna. Mind if I just sit here and take a nap? I need to cool down…'Mione and I had a row today."
"Oh, no, I don't mind." Luna's voice was as calm and distant as always, and for not the first time, she silently thanked God that she had the Lovegood girl as a friend. Luna combated her own fiery temper with her never-ending calm actions, which was really a good thing, because anyone else would just spark her into anger again.
As a gentle breeze played on her cheeks, her thoughts wandered. She wondered how Hermione had taken her outburst, wondered if she had told Ron and Harry yet. When they did she would most definitely get a good yell or two out at them too.
Her lips curved up in a half-smile. Serves them all right. They should know how I feel about this. They did, after all, exclude me once again when I'm perfectly capable of helping.
She wondered –again- why Malfoy was at Hogwarts, and then –quite angrily- wondered why she should even care. She wondered how her Mum and Dad were fairing, how the twins were doing with their shop, and if Bill had decided that Fleur wasn't worth it after all yet. She wondered how close the Order of the Phoenix was to finding the next Horcrux, and if so, if Harry, Ron, and Hermione would be leaving soon. She wondered why it was always 'Harry, Ron, and Hermione' and never 'Ron, Hermione and Harry' or 'Hermione, Harry and Ron'. And lastly, she wondered what a Higglyfink really was before drifting off to sleep.
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The dungeons were dark, damp, and there was a draft –just like always. The Common Room was shrouded in shadows, as always. The furniture was green, the carpet was green, and the serpent-adorned banners were green and silver, as always. His cloak still was ornamented with the Slytherin emblem, his hair was still blonde, he could still spit out insults like a cobra spits venom –but everything was different.
The Common Room lacked the usual proud, Slytherin cheer; there were none of his classmates at all in the school. He was the only Slytherin in his year that had come back, and he had never taken the time to get to know any of the younger students. He felt like this was a shell of the life he had had two years ago –but that was before it had become real. Everything was wonderful then: the Dark Lord had begun his plot to rise again, and Saint Potter and company still bowed to his snide comments. Father talked of his own time of becoming a Death Eater and he remember how he had swelled with pride at the mere thought of it.
Then, it all came crashing down in a flurry of reality. The true horrors of Death Eaters, the pure, unbridled fear only the Dark Lord could create. Father had begun to train him. His father trained him hard and long, taught him spells he didn't even know possible -and it was torture.
But, yes, he took it, he endured it. All because he wanted to prove himself. Damnable pride and damnable greed coaxed him into it; he wanted to be the best –as always. Then he had met Him in person. He, the Dark Lord, ordered him –him- to murder Professor Dumbledore to gain admission to the Death Eaters.
Bitter bile rose in throat, and he flung himself onto his bed. His bed in his room, his empty room.
He was weak. He was a coward. He was a fool.
From his dormitory he heard the sound of first years trumpeting through the Common Room, and he sighed at the sounds of their innocence.
I'm a weakling, a coward, a bloody failiure…
x-x-x Author's Comments x-x-x
Well, that was the first chapter. What did you think?
I was thinking about putting quotes or parts from a song at the beginning of each chapter, but we'll see how that works out. I couldn't think of anything that seemed to fit for this chapter, if you can think of one I'd appreciate it if you sent me it. Thankies,
--Emmalaya