"E-excuse me?" a timid voice quavered, catching 12-year-old Dean Thomas' attention. He turned from his drawing of the constellation Leo, an extra credit project for Astronomy, to see first-year Ginny Weasley at his shoulder. Dean didn't really know her, aside from her being his dorm-mate Ron's younger sister.
"Yeah?" Dean asked, giving the clearly anxious eleven-year-old a reassuring smile. He remembered being shaky and nervous for a few months last year before he got into the swing of things – being Muggleborn, he'd been introduced to a completely different world in a short amount of time, and been expected to cope (which he'd done so…eventually). While Ginny was from a pureblood Wizarding family, he knew that the Weasley kids spent most of their time at the Burrow, their family home and farm, and didn't venture out much. Hogwarts would be an entirely new world for her, too.
"Can…can you teach me how to draw? I like painting and other kinds of art, but I'm not very good yet," she said, holding out a piece of parchment. In stark red ink, shaky, mismatched letters read "HELP GET PROF D!"
Meeting her pleading eyes, Dean reeled with shock – he'd expected to see the beginning of a drawing of some kind – before nodding decisively. He'd find out if she was actually interested in art later – if she was asking for Professor Dumbledore, she was utterly serious. That she did it in such a clandestine way meant someone was likely watching her, or had put a spell of some kind on her.
"Come on – I've got a bunch of my supplies stashed in an unused classroom McGonagall let me use," he replied, feeling a bit like he was in a Bond film. Normally, that'd be exciting, but his heart was pounding with fear. Who knew what was happening to Ginny? He'd only been in the Wizarding world for a little over a year – summer barely counted – and had no idea of the dangers someone could find themselves in.
Dean led the redhead through the school, talking amiably about drawing techniques, brush sizes and shapes, paint quality, pottery wheels, and whatever else art-related that came to mind. For her part, Ginny smiled and nodded, asking questions when appropriate, voice only a bit strained. Once they reached the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office, Ginny began to shake, starting from tremors and working their way into full-on shudders. Making a split-second decision, Dean screamed at the gargoyle to 'Let me in, dammit! Can't you see that it's a bloody EMERGENCY?'. To his relief, the guardian sprang to the side, spiral staircase turning into a moving one the instant his feet connected with it.
"Mr. Thomas! My dear boy, what's this about?" Professor Dumbledore greeted him, standing from behind his desk and walking over to the frantic second year.
"It's Ginny, sir – Ginny Weasley – something's terribly wrong with her, she got me to bring her here in secret but started shaking when she saw the gargoyle. We have to hurry!" Dean cried.
Eyebrows furrowing, the Headmaster quickly followed him back downstairs. Ginny was crouched on the floor, looking like she was fighting her own body; the outline of something in her robe pocket was shaking violently.
Whipping his wand out, Professor Dumbledore made a series of complicated movements with it, ending with a gentle jab; a black essence seeped out of her and into whatever was in her pocket, which began thrashing. Ginny slumped to the floor, and Dean gasped, running to her.
"Relax, Mr. Thomas – that last spell was to send her to a calming sleep; she'll need it. Whatever was possessing her is back in that book in her pocket, but the act of fighting the presence has left her drained – not to mention whatever it had been doing to get to this point," the Headmaster said, breathing slightly heavier than he had been. Dean watched as he cast a few more spells, causing a different robe to appear and the one on her body to switch places with it. A small box also appeared, glowing with a white light; Dumbledore levitated the robe with the book into it, closing it with a final spell.
"Mr. Thomas, I have sent for our mediwitch – she'll be here in a few moments. I must take care of this – the purified casket will not hold it forever. Though you have already helped to save Miss Weasley's life, I have a favor to ask. Will you fill her in about what occurred here? Your friend is in no further danger, but she needs to be treated for the early-to-middle stages of possession. You, my dear boy, also need a Calming Draught – there is no shame in taking one," the Headmaster told him.
Reeling with the events of the past five minutes, Dean could only nod – he felt chilled all over, numbness and out-of-control emotion warred within him. POSSESSION? GINNY WAS BLOODY POSSESSED, BY SOME KIND OF DEMON OR EVIL SPIRIT OR SOMETHING? WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?! Dean thought, feeling no guilt for cursing (even if it was in his own head, his Mum could always preemptively tell, but he felt that even she would let loose with a string of swears if she knew).
"P…possessed? Is this a thing that, like, happens? 'Oh no, Johnny's been possessed by that demon book again, better call the cops and a healer?" Dean said, incredulous. "I – I mean, sorry, sir, but…"
"No, it's perfectly all right. And rest assured, Mr. Thomas, that possession is not something that occurs very often, especially at Hogwarts. I will be going over the wards with a fine-toothed comb to figure out how it got past them. Ah, there's Poppy now!" Professor Dumbledore assured him.
"What is it, Albus? Did another experiment of the Weasley twins go awry? I swear, those two…" Madam Poppy Pomfrey said, shaking her head.
"I'm afraid it's much more serious than that, Poppy. Miss Weasley was in the early-to-middle stages of possession, the cause of which is in this purified casket. I must deal with this at the Department of Mysteries – Mr. Thomas can fill you in on the rest of what he knows – he helped save her life," the Headmaster told her, before going back into his office with the box in his hands.
Both Dean and Madam Pomfrey stared at where he'd been standing, mouths slightly agape, though Dean was also running out of adrenaline and going into panic and shock. His Mum was a nurse – he knew some of this stuff. I'll ask Madam Pomfrey for a potion or something after she helps Ginny – though I bet she'll get someone from a hospital to help; I doubt she's well-versed in possession victims, if what the Headmaster said is true, Dean thought, shivering a bit.
"I can wait to hear the full story, young man – you're going into shock. I can do little for Miss Weasley but make her comfortable while I wait for a healing team from St. Mungo's," Madam Pomfrey told him sternly. She conjured two stretchers, one for him, and one for Ginny, who was stirring slightly.
At her behest, Dean lay down on one of them. He waited for Ginny to be levitated onto the second one, the stretchers snapping together, before trying to relax. We're safe now, he told himself. Ginny's gonna get help, and I'll be with her every step of the way. She managed to get herself to the most powerful man in the school by using a combination of being like James Bond and a ridiculous amount of sheer stubbornness. Seamus is gonna love her. At the thought of Ginny meeting his best friend, some unexpected jealousy popped up – and strangely, not at the thought of sharing Seamus with Ginny, but sharing Ginny with Seamus.
Don't be dumb, Dean scolded himself. Ginny's gonna need all the friends she can get. I can't even imagine what she must be feeling right now. And how come Ron never noticed anything? Or the twins? Didn't they spend any time with her?
Resolving to find out, Dean felt Ginny's hand brush against his. Reacting on instinct, he took her hand in his and squeezed it comfortingly. Slowly, Ginny squeezed back, bringing a smile to his face. Yeah, we're gonna be just fine.