Chapter 21:
Off With Her Head!
"'They're dreadfully fond of beheading people here; the great wonder is that there's anyone left alive!'"
Ginny had lost sense of time while she was chained to the castle's ancient stones. She couldn't keep track of the days and nights, which had mixed up into one single slab of misery, as she spent her days in a haze. Had it been a month since she had been imprisoned? She couldn't have been there for so long without anyone coming to get her. Maybe three weeks? Two weeks? Perhaps only a few days, which seemed endless to her?
It wasn't long before her presence had become part of the scenery, like a portrait or a suit of armor. Lestrange and Snape seemed to have completely forgotten about her, and her friends' compassion had already become so cheap that it was almost like not being noticed at all. The only ones who seemed to notice her were the frightened house- elves, who appeared on unexpected nights and gave her a little food or a damp cloth to clean her face and filthy hands, and the castle ghosts, who would sometimes keep her company. But they had difficulty understanding her suffering after such a long time of freedom from their physical bodies, and she couldn't take interest in their old, silly stories.
She hadn't been alone in her prison for the whole duration of the sentence, though. From time to time the Death Eaters would bound another girl or boy to the far wall; they would respond in tears and pleads, or in screams that would soon turn into tears anyway. Ginny wouldn't have spoken to any of them, even if she could; They didn't want anything to do with someone as hated as her, and she wasn't interested in their company anyway.
The most resilient prisoner, a seventh year from Hufflepuff, had managed to survive for a few days before he too, like everyone else, pleaded for forgiveness and admitted to his crime with. Weaker students succumbed after less than twenty-four hours; One of them begged to kiss Snape's shoes, and one engraved the Dark Mark on her wrists with her fingernails to prove to Lestrange that she had learned her lesson. Students like that would come to humiliate Ginny almost immediately after their release.
Soon Ginny came to the clear conclusion that she deserved to be punished. Not because she had rebelled – she wasn't that broken yet – but for her immense stupidity and lack of proper planning. She should have been more cunning, wiser and better in all ways possible, and it was only for this enormous flaw in her personality that she deserved to be punished in such a cruel way. Ursula said she would have wanted to be her, and Ginny thought she would have given anything to become the ugly, strange Ursula who ate three meals a day, slept in her bed every night, and was almost – almost – free.
She began to think that Lestrange had really decided to keep her rotting there forever, until the second and critical phase of her punishment started. It happened at night. All through that day a sense of thrill filled the air, and she knew that something important was about to happen. Her guess was confirmed when late at night, despite curfew, all the of the students were brought to the Great Hall, dressed in their uniforms. They were arranged in flawless straight columns in front of the castle door, which was left wide open for the cold night the creep in.
A crisp wind blew from the lake, struggling against the flickering flames of the torches that lit the hall. Many of the students trembled, while Ginny relished on the frozen air. She hadn't felt a fresh wind against her skin for what had seemed like years; She wanted not only to feel it, but to taste and smell it as well. She felt, with an almost animal instinct, that winter was almost over.
She knew what was going to come before she saw it. The students and teachers, as well as the Death Eaters, tensed. Many turned pale. In compered to the terrified reactions, the thin, hooded figure that walked in looked almost wretched.
Voldemort arrived accompanied by six Death Eaters, who followed him in two equal rows. A huge snake rested on his thin shoulders comfortably, and a slender white hand stroked its dark scales lazily.
Snape faced his master, accompanied by Lestrange and the Carrows. The four of them kneeled, and the students and teachers mimicked them in surrender.
"It is an indescribable honor to entertain you at our humble school, our Lord and Master," Snape said to the marble floor in a steady voice.
"Rise." The voice that came from under the hood was high and whispering, very quiet, but it could be heard clearly across the hall.
The snake suddenly raised its head, and Ginny felt a chill as the red, slited eyes met hers. The snake slid from its master's shoulders and began crawling across the floor, toward her. She gasped and crept in the opposite direction, clinging to the wall.
"I hope you will be pleased with the institute we have built here, my Lord," Snape continued, now on his feet.
Voldemort nodded, looking toward his snake. For a moment half of his white face was illuminated; The skull-like face was wrapped in dead skin, like a rotting corpse, and one red eye, slited and full of menace, burned in them. He whispered. The snake halted, gazing at Ginny with hunger, and crawled back.
Voldemort was led up the stairs, the whole school after him; Only then did Ginny realize how hard her heart was beating her chest.
That afternoon two Death Eaters disconnected her chains from the wall. Ginny watched them in disbelief as they pulled her violently to her feet. But her legs failed when she tried to walk, limp after an eternity of sitting on the floor, and they had to drag her away.
They took her to Lestrange's office. The knot in her stomach loosened only when she realized that he wasn't there. They dragged her on the expensive rugs and threw her into a side room as if she were a bag of filth, then left.
Ginny struggled to sit up, sliding on the slippery marble floor. She realized that she was in a lavish bathroom with a large golden bath in the middle, with a wonderful smell of soap and perfumes all around her.
Betty was there. She knelt beside Ginny, who was too stunned to speak, and used a key to free her from the shackles. She felt like crying with joy when they hit the floor with a bang; Her bloody wrists and ankles suddenly felt as light as feathers.
The first thing she did with her new freedom was to leap on Betty and hug her. She released her after a moment, realizing that her friend wasn't hugging her back, and studyed her. She was wearing a simple white dress that looked especially bright and beautiful against her grayish skin, on which the marks and scratches had healed, leaving behind yellowish stains. Blue capillaries stood out, bright as jewles, on her pale arms and expressionless face. She was clean and could move freely, though a thin silver chain was still wrapped around her ankles.
"I wanted to come back for you..." Ginny's voice cracked from disuse and relief.
"I know," said Betty blankly. Her eyes were dead. "But you got caught. He told me."
"You're not mad at me, right? You don't hate me?"
"No. I don't hate anyone."
"I... Thanks... But we have to get out of here..."
"There's no escape," Betty said calmly. "You can only get caught in the trap. It's better to live with what is given to us than to die without it. You'll understand. Everything will be alright."
And before Ginny's eyes, she took another silver chain out of her apron pocket. She wrapped it around Ginny's ankles, and it shone and locked with a click. Ginny tried to kick if off, but she only managed to wound her ankles even more.
"Betty, what – ? Why – ?"
Betty tied the other end around Ginny's wrists, limiting her movement completely.
"If you're good, he'll free your hands. He's freed mine. Look how good he is to you – he brought you here to bathe. He hadn't been so kind to me after just one lesson."
She stripped Ginny out of her filthy school uniform and guided her into the bath, which was full of soapy hot water. The water were almost burning against her dirty skin. Betty began scrubbing her, and Ginny watched her, too stunned to respond or resist.
Only when she was out of the water, her skin and hair as clean as they haven't been in forever, and Betty wrapped her in the softest towel, she found the words to tell her, "I'll free you. I know you don't really agree with him... "
"It's all right," Betty said. For a moment a shadow of a smile seemed to creep across her china- doll face. "I have a plan."
"An escape plan?"
"Yes. Soon. Don't worry about me, I'll be all right. Now we have to make you nice and clean for the Dark Lord tonight. We have been honored to serve the drinks. It's so nice of them to gibe us a second chance, don't you think?"
Ginny didn't say anything, shocked and disgusted by what her friend had turned into, and full of hope to witness the girl's plan. Betty dressed her in a white dress similar to hers, then left her alone. She walked over to the mirror, limping as the chain cut her already wounded skin, and looked at her reflection.
She was thin as a skeleton, her skin was a sickly grayish- blue, her eyes heavy and puffy. Even her freckles looked pale, her hair had lost its vitality, and her lips were dry and cracked. She looked like a broken person, and the helplessness of it was unbearable. On an impulse of wild rage, she grabbed an ivory hairbrush and hit her face in the mirror. The mirror cracked with a chilling sound, and Ginny's reflection broke. She had heard that breaking a mirror would bring seven years of bad luck, but she didn't think her luck could get any worse.
That evening a festive gathering was help in the Headmaster's office in the honor of Lord Voldemort, who himself had decided to take care of other business and didn't bother to appear.
Ginny walked around barefoot with a tray of drinks, trying very hard not to limp, to spare herself unpleasant curses from guests who didn't like the way she walked. Betty, on the other hand, did the job with frightening professionalism. She walked as if the chain was a beautiful piece of jewelry, smiled at the insults hurled at her, took punishment with understanding and swore not to repeat the mistake again. Ginny was nauseated by her presence.
The Death Eaters often ignored her, except for random comments exchanged during conversations about the nature of her family's blood treacherousness; Lestrange told his guests about her as if she were some elaborate invention he had created, and Snape ignored her completely. Slughorn, who had also been invited, looked at her with sadness and shame, and she, in turn, glared at him through her hair.
A number of Slytherins had been invited to the party as well, and they seemed very pleased about it. Among them was Ursula, looking extremely masculine in a black velvet woman's dress robe, and an elegant tight hairstyle that accentuated her square jaw. She acted as if she didn't know Ginny at all. When she tried to catch her eye once, she looked back sharply and said, "What are you looking at, traitor?" With tone that made in clear that Ginny should stay away from her at all costs.
Draco Malfoy was also at the party. He stood alone at the edge of a group of older people who were deep in conversation, looking around with a bored look, his leg tapping nervously. From time to time he would try to join the conversation, but would be pushed aside by someone else. Then he would make a great show of gulping his drink, or would busy himself by ordering Ginny or Betty to bring him something.
"A Dragon Tonic," he said to Ginny arrogantly, motioning at her lazily.
"We don't have any," she said.
"So go and fetch some," he said threateningly, like a puppy showing its teeth.
"Sorry," she said, turning away. "It's not my job – "
He garbed her arm with a force that almost made her drop the tray.
"Listen carefully, blood traitor," he snarled, his alcohol-soaked breath hitting her face. "Your job is to do as I tell you, is that clear?"
Ginny opened her mouth to answer brusquely, but Betty intervened: "I'll take care of that, Mr. Malfoy," she assured nervously. "Please don't hurt her, she doesn't understand..."
Malfoy let Ginny go and spat on her bare legs. "She really doesn't," he growled, but didn't impress Ginny at all. "And you – hurry up already!"
"You don't have to let him treat you like that," she said to Betty as she headed for the door vigorously. "He's not Lestrange – "
The other girl looked at her strangely. Ginny wondered what was wrong with her now.
"It'll be all right, Ginny," she said in total serenity, giving a very odd smile, "Go back to work."
But it wasn't all right. Lestrange searched for her with a murderous look from the moment she had left the room, and when she came back he grabbed her hard and slapped her. She dropped the bottle of tonic, which smashed by her legs and cut them.
"You're disappointing me," he said to her, holding her face violently, and the whole room fell silent and watched him. "I have forbidden you to leave without my permission, isn't it so?"
"Master – "
He crushed her face in his hand and growled into her face, "Isn't it?"
"It is, it is..." She began to cry. "Please, punish me... I deserve it..."
"Certainly," he said stiffly, pushing her away. Ursula, who hadn't left Lestrange's side through the whole evening, as if she was some kind of silent shadow, caught her.
"Take her to her room, dear," Lestrange told her nonchalantly, as if he hadn't been shouting a moment ago, and sipped his drink coolly. "I'll take care of her later."
Ursula nodded coldly and dragged Betty away. Ginny watched her, realizing at once what she had to do.
She waited a while, as to not arouse suspicion. Ursula came back after a short while and became Lestrange's shadow again.
Finally she saw an opportunity. She heard Macnair, who was standing at a center of a crowd of riveted listeners, condemning Harry enthusiastically. She approached him, patted him on the back, and when he turned she slammed the tray in his face.
He fell back with a cry of pain, holding his cut face while alcohol and blood washed over them. A few arms came to support him immediately.
"Don't you dare talk about him like that!" Ginny yelled at him at the top of her lungs. "He's twice the man you'll ever be – !"
Just as she had expected, the Cruciatus knocked off her feet with unbearable pain. She swallowed the pain nonetheless, because in her heart she knew she would soon be free.
"I can't say I'm surprised," Lestrange said with a deep sigh of disappointment. "You're far from finishing your education, Miss Weasley. You're rude, and your discipline is terrible. But you'll give in soon. Ursula – if you will."
Ursula held her in an iron grip. Ginny made a great show of wrestling with the larger girl; In return, Ursula grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled it cruelly as she dragged her, yelling and struggling, out of the office.
She pulled her through the corridors for a while. At some point Ginny was afraid she might have been wrong – maybe Ursula was really working for Lestrange – but then Ursula released her. As they were standing alone in the dark corridor, Ginny realized that the girl she had known not so long ago would never have done something like that.
"I stole it from his office," she said, taking a glass knife out of a silk-lined box. "People hide things in such obvious places..."
She cut the chain with a swift motion and it melted away, cool against Ginny charred skin.
"You're acting as if it were easy," she said to her savior breathlessly, still not quite realizing she's free.
"It's wasn't as hard as I expected it to bt, that's for sure," Ursula said with a shrug. "But it had been a unique experience. Professor Lestrange is a fascinating person – cruel, but fascinating – to someone who has the courage to get close to him... Where exactly are you going?"
"To free Betty," said Ginny, already walking fast down the corridor.
For the first time since she'd met her, Ursula had expressed an emotion that looked like apprehension.
"They're going to come get you out of the school any minute now," she said, following her quickly. "They won't be able to wait long, they can't risk their passage being reveled. And if you get caught – "
"Don't worry, Ursula," said Ginny, feeling for the first time in forever that she was herself again. "It's going to be an amazing experience. You'll see, you'll write a story about it one day." And she started running.
She was surprised at the speed with which her thin limbs could move. A few hours earlier she hadn't been able to stand, and now she was cut through the black corridors, light as a doe, holding on to the hem of her dress to keep it out of her way.
She arrived at the office with marvelous speed. Ursula came shortly after her, panting heavily.
"I wouldn't have done it for anyone," she blurted out, pulling a key out of her pocket, "But for you..."
The office was completely silent and dark except for a single candle on the desk. Ginny wasted no time and walked straight into the dark bedroom, not about to fail again.
"I'm here, Betty, like I promised – "
The words died in her throat and she stilled. A half-moon peered through the window curiously at the beautiful girl lying on the bed, her white dress wrapped around her softly and her hair spread gracefully over the pillows. She was glamorous, almost sensual, like a bride on her wedding night. Her eyes watched the moon calmly, and a sad little smile froze on her, all the pain and fear washed from them by the silvery light.
Ginny remembered what Lestrange had told her the night he first tried to break her – he said the moon had a calming effect on girls her age. But it had no such effect on Ginny, because from that night on that light reminded her only of the brightness of Betty Ogden's dead body on the bed where she had suffered so much pain.
"Poison," noted Ursula, stirring with her foot in the contents of a smashed glass goblet the was scattered on the floor by the bed. "How tragic..."
"She said she had a way out." Ginny could have sworn she wasn't the one who spoke.
"Well, it is an escape, in a way," Ursula said, examining Betty's body with disturbing curiosity. "Nothing can hurt you when you're dead."
Ginny still hadn't fully comprehended what had happened. Something in her told her that in another minute Betty would get up and continue to live her miserable life, but something else tried to make her understand that this was the end of Betty Ogden. All her efforts were in vain – all the consolations weren't worth a piece of dirt. And in fact, all this was her fault; If she had persuaded her to go to the Yule Ball, she wouldn't have stayed at school in the holiday, and maybe Lestrange wouldn't have taken her. Except that she – Ginny – should have stopped him a long time ago, months ago, and then all this wouldn't have happened... She should have done so much more...
"We have leave immediately," Ursula's voice barely penetrated her thoughts. "Your rescue will leave in a few more minutes. We need to meet then at the second meeting point, or we'll miss them."
They came for her. At last, they came for her. But why hadn't anyone come for Betty?...
Ursula took her hand and pulled her out of the bedroom. Ginny shook her off after a few steps, grabbed the candle on the table, and with the hot wax dripping on her skin, ran into the bedroom and threw it on the bed, which caught on fire instantly.
She vaguely realized that Ursula was condemning her for the stupid act. She barely felt her dragging her out of the room, aware only of the rising flames, consuming the bedclothes and the mattress, and Betty's body, the licking flames reflected in her eyes.
One they were outside, Ursula began to run. Ginny discovered that her eyes were watering, and assumed that it was because of the stinking smoke that burst out of the office, where the fire had spread horribly fast.
The alertness was low that night, as most of the Death Eaters spent their time enjoying the party. Perhaps no one expected that someone would be stupid enough to make trouble when Voldemort was around. Ursula was panting hard all the way, slowing down and picking up the pace and slowing down again, glancing at her watch every few seconds. If Ginny had bothered to take interest in her condition, she would have found her looking uncharacteristically worried – a strong emotion of fear dominated her usually indifferent face.
The were Death Eaters on the second floor. They noticed Ginny and Ursula running on the other side of the hallway, and as they gulped the main stairs with fanatic speed, they heard them yelling and chasing after them.
They reached the front door and Ursula pulled. The door did not open. The door was stuck. Horrified by the thought that she was trapped, Ginny quickly added her strength to the effort. The door opened to a narrow slit, and they slipped through just before a number of curses wounded the ancient wood.
The dark lawns spread all around them, and they kept on running on the wet grass, slipping and tumbling. More than once Ginny tripped over the edge of her dress and hit the muddy ground with all her body. Most of the time Ursula kept running without noticing her fall. But any anger at her was instantly replaced by the realization that she couldn't go back to Hogwarts after what she, Ginny, had done to Lestrange's office when she was under the other girl's supervision.
Curses illuminated the darkness around them. But the Death Eaters were far away, having trouble running down the slippery slope and aiming in the dark of night. The moon hid behind a great cloud, as if it had its own will to help them.
At some point, Ursula swerved sideways and began burrowing in the bushes, muttering to herself. She stumbled on a jagged rock and called in pain, but didn't stop her search. Ginny stood by, covered in sweat that was rapidly cooling in the wind, panting. She looked back in fear.
"Ursula, what – ?"
"Why isn't it here? It has to be here!" She went down on her hands and knees in the bushes and began feeling the ground. "No! They've left!" She roared wildly and hit the ground.
"They're over there!"
"Ursula, we have to – "
"Over here!"
Ginny tried to figure out where the voice came from. Ursula crept deeper into the bushes, and Ginny, with a last look at the distant silhouettes of their pursuers, hurried after her. Ursula suddenly disappeared. Ginny searched for her in the bushes when a strong, bony hand garbed her ankle. She screamed, then fell.
Somebody caught her in the dark and put her trembling legs on a hard floor. There was a metallic sound above her, then silence, broken only by heavy breathing in the dark.
After a while, her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness; A faint light from the night sky illuminated the shape of heavy iron bars above her head. Beside her she could see the general shape of Ursula, and in a slice of an old, bearded face, with one clear, serious eye fixed in it. She opened her mouth, and he motioned to her to be quiet.
Someone was walking in the bushes above them. Words were exchanged. Ginny's heart was beating hard as a shadow fell on the bars, and calmed down only when she heard words of despair and footsteps moving away.
Someone touched her. She turned and saw a piece of Bill's scarred face; Almost at that moment she was in his arms.
"Who is this?" Asked Kingsley's deep voice in the darkness.
"I'm the one who saved her," Ursula said desperately, still breathing hard. "You owe me. Let me come with you."
"What do you say, Aberforth?" Kingsley said. "It's your secret passage, after all."
"Let her come," said the old man from the Hog's- Head.
And before Ginny knew, she came out of the passageway in the Hog's- Head, and a few minutes later she was home.