Disclaimer: I can say Harry Potter belongs to JK, and I can say Harry Potter begins to me (JK!), but I can't say Harry Potter belongs to me.
Notes: Okay, maybe I wasn't lying about the "updating every six months" part… but thanks for staying with me! Whenever Harry is in a scene that is not Ginny's imagination, it's actually "Harry" from chapter eight (though I'm not saying if "Harry" is actually Harry or not, nor am I saying whether he's in this chapter or not).
"How is this possible?" Umbridge squeaked. She was like a musical scale; the more notes played, the higher she got. She sipped her glass of wine before straightening herself pompously.
Higher, in several ways.
"What she's done isn't unique," Flitwick argued, his head barely reaching the tabletop. He gestured to the roomful of professors. "We can all access magic through the training wand." Spotting Umbridge's venomous glare, he amended sheepishly, "Well, most of us."
"What I want to know is what has she done?" Umbridge shrieked, followed by a fit of coughs.
"Well, I'll be it, we have something in common after all." Ginny didn't surrender herself to the simultaneous glares sent in her direction. The way she figured, either they were going to execute her or not. Whatever she said would hold as little weight as her presence here, since she seemed to be a mere placeholder in front of a makeshift witness stand.
"The wand is perfectly ordinary," McGonagall spoke up, neither in defense nor prosecution of the girl.
Prosecution was Umbridge's job. "Well, then the girl must not be!"
"There are certain… extenuating circumstances," the female overseer agreed. So she was more than a walking baby name book after all. "Her coma…"
"Of course," Umbridge interjected sarcastically. "If I was wasting public taxes in a comatose state for year, it would certainly have a profound effect on my magic."
"Well, we could test that," Ginny put simply.
"We could test the magic part," Umbridge shot back, pointing her wand at Ginny. "Silencio."
Ginny waited for the magic to take effect. When nothing happened, she decided to test her theory. "That's Spanish."
Umbridge shrieked once more. "When are any of you incompetent fools going to put your lack of brains together and fix my wand?"
"The wand is ordinary," McGonagall repeated, only this time, prosecution laced her tone.
"The the woman must not be," Ginny mumbled.
"Quiet!" Umbridge demanded, though it would have the same effect as her magic. "All of you!" She gestured to the female overseer. "Summon her overseer. Let's see what he has to say about this."
The female nodded obediently and took a fistful of white powder from a pot in the corner. After measuring it with her palm, she thrust it into the fireplace at the end of the room and shouted, "Severus Snape!"
A few moments passed before Ginny screamed.
Snape was burning alive.
She stopped quickly, half because of the professors who were staring at her like an idiot. Half because she figured she wouldn't care if Snape were burning alive, since he'd likely be burning in another place as soon as he died anyway.
And half because she realized he wasn't burning. Three halves to make a whole. Curious. But three heads were better than one.
Except for when it came to certain three-headed dogs, which lingered in her mind as surely as the elusive Harry. Both of them. Or could there be only one?
"You summoned me?" came Snape's bitter retort.
"Yes, we summoned you," Umbridge snapped impatiently, "not your head."
Snape's head seemed to shrug, if that were possible. Then, without a moment's hesitation, he stepped through the fireplace.
The first thing he saw was Ginny. The first thing he did was laugh. Ginny was certain the two were connected.
People did tend to have a sick sense of humor in this society.
"I'm not surprised," Snape managed. "What end of the world has she brought about already?"
You, Ginny thought literally.
The professors exchanged a weary glance.
"We were hoping you might tell us," McGonagall professed at last, extending Ginny's wand towards him. Curious, he took it. "What do you make of this wand?"
Snape glanced back at her skeptically. "I'm sorry to have failed your test, but I find nothing unsatisfactory or otherwise special about this wand."
"Exactly," Umbridge cut in. "Then would you care to explain how your charge single-handedly performed a perfect levitation spell with it?"
Snape straightened in surprise, quickly replaced by his usual detachment. "Last I checked, there wasn't a rule against levitating feathers."
"It's a practice wand," Umbridge hissed.
"Well, then," Snape replied, "perhaps she's ready to graduate to a real one."
"She must have been trained," Umbridge insisted. "At her home, she must have used a wand there." She glared at Snape. "Be assured, the Dark Lord will be informed of your negligence."
Snape merely laughed. "My negligence? More likely of your utter incompetence." He gestured towards Ginny, ignoring Umbridge's catlike hiss. "You want to know about her former magical training, then you've got the expert here."
"Forgive me," Umbrige replied in a tone that implied don't, "but an expert in a foolish girl's past is a lower profession than you've already got."
Snape stared her down. "I'm not the expert." He pointed snidely at Ginny. "Why don't you ask her?"
"She'll lie, of course."
"I don't need to lie," Ginny interjected.
"You won't be able to," Snape corrected, withdrawing a vial from his cloak. "Veritaserum, if such measures are truly necessary."
"What?" Ginny demanded, panicking.
"See?" Umbridge remarked snidely. "She's guilty."
"You can't poison me without proving it!"
"It's not a poison," Snape explained dryly. "It's a truth-telling potion."
"Well, which truth will it tell, the one you fear or the one you want?"
"There's only one truth." Then, without warning, Snape thrust the open vial into her mouth. Ginny choked, trying to expel the content, but Snape's hand flew over her mouth, which was viler than the potion. As always, there was no choice but to obey.
"Please note that everything you say can and will be used against you," Umbridge recited immediately, victorious fire in her eyes. "Have you, prior to today, used a wand out of class?"
Words truly were a weapon. "Yes." Worse than sticks and stones, they could always hurt you.
Umbridge shot out of her chair. "Aha! So she admits it!"
Ginny rolled her eyes, turning her head slightly towards Snape. He raised his eyebrows, as if professing his innocence.
"Okay," Ginny stated, since he wouldn't, "ask me whose wand I used."
Umbridge contemplated this for a moment before deciding that it would only incriminate Ginny further. "Whose wand did you use?"
She pointed at Snape. "His."
It was Snape's turn not to whither under Umbridge's gaze. "Overseer," she grit. "Is this true?"
"Unfortunately," he answered reluctantly. "Before you force me to join her on the-" He sneered. "-witness stand, allow me to explain."
"Please do."
"Dementors."
"Dementors," she repeated skeptically. "You're saying Dementors forced you to hand over your wand to her."
"Perhaps you'd like to explain what the Dementors were doing on the train in the first place," Snape countered, "since it was you who authorized their presence."
"Every student goes through security," Umbridge explained calmly.
Snape didn't respond at first, merely glancing away in an unnerving manner. "So I have been demoted to student?"
"I daresay, that would be a promotion," Umbridge shot back. She coughed several times. "Let's rephrase this- you didn't feel capable of defending against the Dementors, so you thought it a smart idea to let this slip of a girl try?"
"Perhaps you don't know what it's like to be kissed," Snape replied dryly in a manner that made Ginny certain he meant Umbridge to misinterpret his statement.
"Well, I don't suppose you have much more expertise in that regard."
Inexplicably, Snape looked away. Ginny didn't.
"But I don't suppose she had much success," Umbridge continued. "It takes a talented wizard to repel a Dementor." She glanced at Snape meaningfully.
Snape sighed. "Yes, Headmistress, I only did manage to repel the seven Dementors you sent to investigate our student." His eye twitched. "But not before she did."
If silence could fill a room, it did. So Ginny spoke. "I only held back one, and only for a few seconds."
"You made… a patronus?" McGonagall croaked.
"Impossible," Umbridge stated.
"I don't know what a patronus is," Ginny admitted. "But I can't lie." She closed her eyes and searched her memory. The near past, the only reliable past she had. "Expecto Patronum." She opened her eyes. "It looked like a bird."
The room was speechless once again. Snape eyed her warily, but for a brief instant, his eyes flashed with emotion. Maybe even pride. "Do you remember using a wand prior to our engagement with the Dementors?"
Did she remember? Well, there was lots of stuff she remembered. She'd touched her mum's wand, for instance. More like clawed it out of her stone cold hand. But no one else she knew had owned a wand. They were said to be traceable, and traceable was dangerous.
Then there was the stuff she didn't remember.
But Snape hadn't asked for that. "No," she answered honestly.
Only Umbridge managed to laugh. "She's lying."
"I'd like to," Ginny replied smoothly, surprising them all, but mostly Snape. "I'd like a simple explanation, because I hear that's the way to survive."
Snape gave her an imperceptible nod. There was another way to survive.
"How is this possible?" Umbridge repeated dejectedly.
"I have a theory." All eyes turned towards Snape.
"A theory?" Umbridge sneered.
"In science, a theory is an established and widely supported explanation," Ginny recited dispassionately.
"We'll see about the supported part."
"Had this been an ordinary student, the circumstances of conjuring a patronus would fall under near impossible," Snape began. "However, she is not exactly a normal student."
"I try to be," Ginny countered automatically, or she tried to before the words were choked in her throat. Hopefully, no one noticed the gargled slur that slipped out. The potion worked after all.
"Her coma was reportedly erratic; by most reports, she shouldn't have survived. But she did." He turned to gaze at her. "The Girl Who Lived." His eyes narrowed. "And perhaps she lived more than we thought she did."
"What do you mean?" Ginny and Umbridge demanded simultaneously. An instant later, both looked like they wanted to puke out of disgust at the unison.
"You were telling me about a memory before," Snape went on. Dread bubbled up in Ginny's chest. Not Harry… not now that she knew him, or a version of him, or someone pretending to be him, or someone she pretended to know, or someone she knew she pretended was a version of him, or…
"Remembering things and people that didn't exist," Snape continued.
Except they do, Ginny thought, but thankfully, it hadn't been posed in question format. "Yeah, I was telling you," she stated neutrally. "But I don't remember much. Just stuff that makes no sense. Stuff you'd expect from a coma patient."
"Well," Snape sounded, as if that arrested his case, "sounds quite similar to what we have on our hands now."
"You're saying she learned how to use a wand during a coma," Umbridge repeated skeptically. For once, Ginny was on her side.
"I'm saying she learned something." Snape turned once more. "Or perhaps she has yet to learn." He studied her intently. "I say we promote her to her grade level."
"Are you out of your mind?" Umbridge demanded.
"Well, I am," Ginny muttered cynically.
"Give her the chance to fail," Snape continued. "Glean what you can from her. Knowledge is power." He paused. "Or I remember a time when it was."
It must have been rather rebellious for him stating that so openly, Ginny judged by the gawks he received. Especially for someone like Snape. But, being Snape, he got away with it and covered himself in logic. "Hasn't she proved to be a model student thus far?"
"Too model."
"As headmistress, I'm fairly certain you have the power to change the dress code as you please."
"It's her power I worry about!" Umbrigde hissed.
"My power?" The words slipped out. "I can't do anything." That clearly wasn't the truth. But she wasn't able to lie, which must have meant she thought it to be the truth. Maybe that's what Snape had meant about her learning something. Meant unintentionally, of course, since at the surface, he undoubtedly was referring to magical skills that could be a wonderful contribution to the workforce.
"Clearly you can," Umbridge countered. "But what can you do?"
"I don't know." A truly honest answer.
Umbridge's eyes narrowed. "I could terminate you."
"And I could say something worthy of termination," Ginny replied, though she knew she was treading in dangerous ground. Snape's eyes only reiterated that, so she added, "Of course, that's not exactly plan A."
"Overseer?"
"I don't believe it's my call to make," Snape replied, "but whatever we do, I suggest we keep this quiet."
Umbrige raised her eyebrows. "How quiet are we talking?"
"Not talking at all, I should think."
Umbridge studied Ginny closely, looking for any sign of deception. Ginny made a show of looking guileless, though she'd only spoken the truth. Maybe that would be what saved her; for, for certain, Umbridge knew Ginny wasn't holding back anything. Maybe being outspoken was as good as being silent.
"Fine," Umbridge relented, though it felt like more of a death sentence. "What do they call you- Ginny?" At the name, Snape shot a glance at the girl before quickly turning away. It was what he was best at. "You're free of all charges." Umbridge's last words reverberated loudly. "But you're not free."
As the room continued arguing about minor details, Snape slipped closer to Ginny. Ginny gave him a quizzical look, but, for once, she wouldn't mind the overseer as opposed to the rest of the company. Still, a private conversation with Snape was out of the question, and evidently that was what he'd been trying for. So, instead, he settled with a less than enthusiastic, "I see you haven't gotten expelled yet."
"I wasn't trying to," she replied neutrally.
"You don't have to be." No one else was listening, so he continued, "You're going to have to be careful, if you're to survive."
"You always say that," she muttered irritably. "Why do you want me to survive?"
"I'm indifferent," he replied. "And you're different." He gave her a meaningful glance, which made her feel oddly naked.
"I hear that's a bad thing."
"It's both. They'll be more eager to kill you, but they'll have more need for you alive."
"Everyone dies sometime."
Snape looked away. "Some people die too soon."
Ginny remembered a name. Like everything, it slipped away. "Lily?"
Snape's fist came down on her in an instant. She fell back with a muffled cry, which, sad to say, didn't silence the room until several seconds had passed. For all the attention they were giving to her, they weren't actually paying her much attention.
"Overseer?" Umbridge didn't look terribly upset at the commotion. In fact, she seemed pleased at Snape's misstep.
"The veritaserum was making her drowsy," he explained calmly.
"Right," Ginny gargled, though no one heard her, since it obviously wasn't the truth. She glanced back at Snape, calm and composed as always. Well, she recalled. Not always.
So Lily had slipped away too. As Ginny did, once the meeting was done.
I'll try to put up the next chapter in two weeks. (Very ambitious, I know.)