The Hourglass: Chapter 14

Note: This was supposed to be one chapter, but it really got too long, so I've split it in two. A double update for you guys: enjoy!

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Due to its reputation of filth, Ginny had only been inside the Hog's Head a select few times, but its innards never seemed to change much. The bartender was as disgruntled and unpleasant as ever, but after their first meeting, Ginny realized that he would prove much more useful than she had originally imagined.

"Hiding from the administrators?" he asked, as if with grudging interest when he learned of their situation. "And how long do you plan to stay there, exactly?"

"As long as possible," Ginny said. "We're almost self-sufficient except that there's no food."

"Yes, that tends to be an issue," he said gruffly. He probably understood the implications of Ginny's statement, but had not made any offer.

Neville was bolder with his attempt.

"Er…Sir," he addressed awkwardly to which the man scowled. "We were talking about how to get food into our hideout. And…this passage materialized and led us here when we mentioned that the kitchens were off-limits…"

"So come out and ask already," he said impatiently.

Ginny and Neville looked at each other, a little surprised by the man's odd behavior. "Well…would that be alright?" Neville tried confusedly.

"Would it be alright to ask?"

"…Can you supply us with food?" Ginny asked at last, seeing that the man wanted forwardness.

"No," said the bartender. He leaned back and propped his feet up onto the uneven wooden table between them. "Not until I understand the nature of your little blockade."

And so it went, with Neville and Ginny having to explain everything about the Room of Requirement, the defense club, and the Carrows' administration to the man, who listened with a sour expression and narrowed eyes. When they showed him the rest of the club members who were hiding back in the tunnel, he actually laughed out loud harshly.

"So much for the 'secret passage'. I'll have to block this off entirely after you leave, or the kids will never stop visiting."

Ginny noticed that his eyes lingered on the dusty Slytherins for much longer than any of the rest of them, as if in appraisal. However, he did not make any comment about the versatility of the club members.

"Does that mean you will you help us?" Ginny asked nervously, once he had finished to examine them all.

He leered a bit, and turned to face them, not too pleasantly. "What would you do if you were in my position?"

Ginny looked at Neville. It was true that by helping them, the bartender could get into trouble, but was there anything they could do to make the deal fairer to the man?

"We're hiding because there's no choice and we're staying because it's the right thing to do," Ginny said firmly. "There's no choice in the matter for us. You have the option to help or not."

The man shot a sharp look at her and she swallowed, but held her ground. It was after all the truth and they couldn't bribe him to help.

There was a long pause in which Ginny was afraid that she had blown it, but then a rueful and odd smile began to slowly creep across his face.

"All right, Missy. If you're that convinced, then why should I stand between your dreams? You'll be ragged rebels—but at least fed, ragged rebels."

It was not the answer Ginny had been expecting perhaps, but it was glorious.

And so, incredible and unlikely though she had thought it, they returned to the Room of Requirement not empty handed, but laden with crates of drinks and food from the Hog's Head. The overall smell of them was quite terrible, and Ginny personally was not convinced of the quality, but obviously they were not in any position to complain or barter.

They made two more trips that same day, once to pick up the rest of the supplies, and later to thank the barman once more. He was certainly an odd man. Brushed off their gratitude with a shrug and callous words that made it seem he didn't feel for their cause at all. Yet he must, to have given so much of his poor pub over to them.

The problem of food finally solved, Ginny was pleased to find that they really were completely independent now. There was no need to leave the room for anything, and as the days lengthened and turned into weeks, they gradually realized that they knew little of life outside the Room of Requirement.

This didn't particularly bother Ginny, who was sure that the regime had not improved at all in their absence, but she did feel a certain pang of regret when she thought of Professor McGonagall. She had done so much to protect Ginny all year, and now right at the end Ginny had run off, never to return. It did make her a little guilty, but not enough to leave their sanctuary.

Anyhow, most of these feelings were chased from Ginny's mind by the more impending issues of the club itself. Now finally back into working form, Ginny felt that she could no longer ignore the issue of Occlumency lessons, which had not taken place for over a month. Blaise was the person to approach about this, but he had been as aloof and distant from Ginny as the first day she had arrived. With the aid of Murtlap tentacles, his damaged face had gradually cleared up, revealing a permanent scowl beneath. He still rarely spoke to Ginny. While that had been acceptable for the first week, Ginny felt that things were getting out of hand.

So one gray morning a week later, when the rest of the members had left to visit the Hog's Head (the errand had become something like a fieldtrip for them), she seized the opportunity to speak with him finally. There was only so long that the others could linger in Hogsmeade before the barman kicked them out, but Ginny was determined to speak her mind to Blaise.

He had stayed behind to help clean up the room. Their last lesson, which had consisted of review spells culminating in a bout of Stunning, had left the room in a rather horrible mess, and he was silently mending the books that had fallen from the shelf, fusing the pages and spines back together while Ginny organized the knocked-over seats and tables. Keeping the Room of Requirement going as both a clubroom and a dormitory had given rise to lots of unexpected housework.

She gave him approximately ten minutes of quiet time before deciding that it was fair to speak.

"Blaise?"

He made a vague gesture with his head to show that he was listening.

"I want to restart the Occlumency lessons with the club. We need to start practicing it again," she said carefully.

He took a long time, smoothing down the cover of a spell book. After a while, he made a little noise of irritation and shook his head. "Why don't we just drop that lesson? I don't think it was going anywhere," he said quietly.

Ginny scowled. "How can you say that? We were finally making some progress before—" she stopped herself. She didn't want to bring up "before" what. It was before she had run off to the future, that's what. Ginny steadied herself and formulated the next argument. "That's not the point, anyway. We started the lesson, but never finished it. I don't want to be that kind of teacher."

He made no gesture of having heard this time, only carefully added the fixed book to the finished pile.

"Blaise…" she felt like a nagging mother and it was not pleasant in the least bit. Anger was dawning upon her as well. "This is serious. We don't have much time here alone. We have to practice now."

"Just teach them something else!" he snapped irately. "They're not going to die if they can't do Occlumency!"

She rolled her eyes. "That's not for you to say!"

He ignored her and began mending a new page with his wand.

Ginny watched his motions with frustration and suddenly, she didn't know what came over her. It wasn't a normal impulse, but she couldn't help it. A sudden spurt of bitterness at the injustice of the situation and an almost hysterical frustration surged through her veins. She could control herself if she really wanted to…but she didn't want to. Wand hand, as if moving of its own accord, slashed towards Blaise's chair before she could stop herself, while her mind silently shouted the incantation.

Needless to say, Blaise was not pleased to suddenly find himself upside down, suspended in midair, as if an invisible hook was embedded in the hem of his robes.

"ARGH—what the hell, Weasley?"

Apparently this was the last straw for him, too, because he carved a violent shape in midair with his wand and a golden streak flashed before Ginny's eyes like a thin flame. She was able to deflect it, with a Shielding spell that ricocheted off it inches before it touched her forehead, skewing both the spell paths. Blaise's spell zoomed neatly into the wall behind Ginny, creating a deep burn mark with a hissing noise, but Ginny's spell knocked into the bookcase, and before they knew it, the air was full of the flying pages that Blaise had just spent so long repairing. A horrible screeching noise followed, alerting Ginny that the bookshelf was about to fall on Blaise, who was still frozen in his ridiculous position. She frantically let him drop and he landed heavily on his back, waving his wand wildly just before the shelf landed—

"IMMOBILUS!"

The bookshelf froze less than a centimeter from his nose.

There was a thick silence as they both watched the now-inert piece of furniture, petrified in the most absurd, gravity-defying position. Blaise was breathing rather heavily out of his nose and shot Ginny a look of purest antagonism before roughly forcing the bookshelf back into place with a jab of his wand. He overdid it a little out of anger, and the shelf slammed back into the wall with an awful scratching noise that made Ginny jump. She could already see black marks on the normally cream-colored walls as scars from the experience.

Blaise got to his feet and glared around him at the piles of books on the floor that he had just finished to organize. For a moment, it looked like he would raise his wand and re-organize them, but he just made a contemptuous sound of disgust, pocketed his wand, and started to stride to the other side of the room.

Ginny would have accepted nearly any reaction but this. The fact that after attacking him full-on, he was just going to continue his little cold-shouldering streak was more than she could bear. Putting away her wand as well, Ginny started after him, jogged to catch up and caught him by the shoulder.

"What is wrong with you? Did I not make myself clear enough a moment ago?" she demanded.

He shrugged her hand off and turned around, regarding her with a dangerous, smoldering look. "We don't have anything to discuss."

"Well, I do need the number of whoever taught you to be a prat," Ginny shouted, not much aware of where her words were coming from. "I haven't done anything wrong since seeing you and your behavior is totally out of order!"

"Ginny. Stop talking. Right now."

"Shut up! I won't!"

To her horror, Ginny felt tears coming to her eyes, and she couldn't quite explain why, for she was not moved by sorrow. "This isn't fair, Blaise! I haven't done anything for you to treat me like this! I'm trying to make things better and there's more at stake here than just you and me—"

Then Ginny was cut off by the most strange occurrence of Blaise suddenly stepping forward and kissing her.

It might have lasted for mere seconds, or minutes, or days, for all Ginny knew. Shock was her first impression…and then more shock.

It didn't really occur to her to struggle, though she probably wouldn't have been able to do much. Blaise kept his hands planted on either side of her face, as if anticipating that she would try to escape and determined to hold her in place, if only for this moment.

His fingers were shaky; it was as if he was trying to suppress some nervous and powerful sentiments within, but was failing, and they kept pouring through, burning Ginny's skin. She found that even though part of her mind wished that this was Harry, there was something impossible to refuse in Blaise's manner—something that wouldn't let her pull away even if she had wanted to. Despite her frantic mind, her body began to relax, and she even found herself responding eagerly, leaning in to his embrace hungrily, desperately, as if she were drawing something like life from him. So irresistible and fascinating and overwhelming and unlike anything she had ever experienced before…

And then it was over. He broke away; pushed her face back from his, really and regarded her with the most peculiar expression. It was as if he was afraid to believe that had really just happened. That he had been accepted.

Ginny, for her part, was breathless and dazed and started blushing as she realized that she missed the contact. She found that she didn't know where to focus her eyes. He still hadn't said anything to her. Did this mean that he actually liked her, or was it just another one of his ways of just messing with her mind, trying to make her see black where there was white? That possibility sounded hateful even in her mind, but she couldn't help entertaining it, knowing that Blaise was capable of more deception than she had previously thought.

"Blaise…" for some reason, her voice came out thin and wavering and she stopped to clear it. The burning sensation was returning to her eyes and she was afraid to meet his. Her lips parted and then came together for the question she really wanted to ask.

"Blaise…why did you come here without me?"

She didn't know why. But after what had just happened, she didn't want to ask if he loved her. She just wanted to know the answer to this question.

His eyes, which had been attentively focused on hers, took on a shadow of graceful confusion and astonishment that this was the only thing she wanted to know. "Why did I come to the Room of Requirement without you, you mean?" he echoed in disbelief.

She nodded, eyes glued to his.

Long pause.

"…You left me, Ginny," he answered finally, looking troubled by her worried expression. "I didn't know if you were ever coming back, what with the number of times you had disappeared on me." He stopped and looked in confusion at her pleading face. "Did you think I had abandoned you or something?" he asked, his voice laced with surprise and maybe even vague amusement. "No. I never left you, Ginny."

It was a simple enough statement, but Ginny could read into it and understand what he meant. With a pang, she realized that all the things the older Blaise had told her must be true. She swallowed, the guilt coming back though she had sworn it away.

"I never meant to leave you guys for so long," Ginny croaked, gripping his forearms and really wishing that her voice would return to normal. "I was only trying to help. Please believe me."

Blaise said nothing, but tentatively took Ginny's clamped hands off his arms and held them both between his own, like an unspoken gesture of comfort.

They remained like that, Ginny didn't know how long. She just knew that she didn't want to move from this position for a good long time. There was nothing beyond the walls of this room. The books lay forgotten all around them. There was only this moment, this confusing moment of wondering what was going on inside Blaise's head and what he meant by all of this and where is this going and what's going to happen next. Did it even matter anymore?