Oh, hi there! Yeah, since I've already updated anyways, so I thought, why the hell not? Let's get another chapter up here.
By the way, for all of you guys who are a bit lost about things in this story, please go ahead and and check out the previous chapter (or, actually, even if you're all good, I strongly advise you to go check out the last chapter. It's not as well written as this one, but the third person abridged retelling of the entire story so far might give you insights and answers to questions you may have).
Anyway, prechapter warnings, there's some gore and a lot of blood involved in this chapter, so much like before, Imma be marking them off with author's notes so you can skip them. I'll also be adding a summary of what you skipped over so you don't miss anything.
That being said, here's Ginny's side of the story, please enjoy.
Chapter 10: Ginny
...ny…
Gin… up…
Wake… Ginny…
"Ginny, wake up!" I felt someone shaking my shoulders.
Groggily, I cracked an eye open. A familiar pair of green eyes behind round glasses met mine. "Harry?" I rubbed my eyes and tried to sit up. "Harry, you're here? What time is it?"
"It's one o'clock in the morning, I need you to get up, now," Harry sounded breathless for some reason, and the last word sounded really urgent. "Get up and get your wand."
I knew something was not right. He looked far too frazzled for this to be a normal wakeup call. Over by the other bed, I could hear Ron waking Hermione up, too, giving her the same instructions to get ready. I quickly got up and got dressed. "What's going on, Harry?" I asked as I reached for my wand on the nightstand, now fully awake.
"Yeah, what's going on, Harry?" Hermione sounded just as groggy as I did, but she was dressed and had her wand at the ready anyway.
"I don't know, exactly. But we were down in the kitchen when your sneakoscope started acting up," Harry said over his shoulder as he headed for the stairs. We diligently followed close behind. "Not long after, there was this curse that was fired somewhere just beyond the reeds out your front yard. Who fired it or at whom, we don't know yet." He stopped at the base of the stairs and faced us. "All I know is that we have to be ready should it be dangerous and find its way here."
I nodded once and saw the others do the same.
The thing that we were doing in the Room of Requirement with Dumbledore's Army, all those practices and mock duels, were nothing compared to the real thing. The ordeal we went through in the Department of Mysteries last month served as a reminder that this war is real and people could really die if they are not careful. Because when you are in a life or death situation, your wits are the first to go. Instincts and a strong will to survive are all that you can really count on, hope to God that you'll make it through the night. It was then that I understood what Harry meant when he said he got by mostly on nerves and good luck, because that's how it will feel when you're in the middle of it.
I used to always jump in, headlong, into anything and everything. Often, I hit first before thinking whether I should. After all, I am quite fair at jinxing and hexing. Let might dictate what's right, that's what I always thought. After all, that's what being a Gryffindor is all about, isn't it?
Now that I've actually been to battle, I find myself a little bit wiser. I know to stay focused, to try and keep my wits about me and keep my nerves under control. I know not to always rely on luck and adrenaline to get me out of sticky situations; I know to keep myself from getting to a point of desperation, to always allow me some elbow room and not let myself be backed up to a corner, to calculate every move I make so that I assure myself the highest chance of survival possible. Dare I say, I have learned to control myself.
We were all lined up by the front door, knuckles white from gripping our wands a bit too tightly. It always sounds so exciting, doesn't it? Getting into battle? Seeing all the action firsthand? But really, it's nerve-wracking. The worst part is the wait. Waiting for a target to present itself, waiting for an attack to dodge, waiting for an opportunity to attack, waiting for something to happen. Honestly, waiting wears someone down a whole lot more than the actual fight itself. Or at least, it wears me down the most.
Then the doorknob started to jiggle. It set the butterflies in my stomach to flutter more wildly than they already are. Do I fire? Do I not? Seriously, it's stressing me out.
The door finally unlocked, and I swear I could feel the room still. It's like everyone else was holding their breath at the same time as I was. The door swinging open felt like an eternity. I think my hand has gone numb from grasping on my wand too tightly. It might even snap, anytime soon.
The door swung open to reveal Mum, Dad and Professor Dumbledore. I was about to lower my wand when Harry pointed his right at Dumbledore's face.
I was so shocked, my voice caught in my throat. I could see Hermione and Ron looking just as scandalized as I am.
"Sir, when we came from Professor Slughorn's house, what did you say you were going to give me?" Harry asked. His hand might've been shaking slightly, but neither his face nor his voice betrayed him.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with understanding. "I said I'd be giving you private lessons after classes for the rest of the school year, that is, if you'd like."
As if following his cue, Hermione held her wand at Mum and asked, "Mrs. Weasley, when I first came to the Burrow yesterday, you offered me some cookies to eat. What did we talk about?"
Mum heaved a heavy sigh, "We talked about what happened last month in the Department of Mysteries, and how I wish I could do more to console dear Harry because of Sirius."
Ron raised his wand at Dad and asked, "Who's my favorite Quidditch player?"
Dad made a disappointed sound and said, "Ron, that is hardly a security question! Everyone knows that you liked that Bulgarian Seeker Viktor Krum best until two years ago when-"
"ALRIGHT, THAT'S QUITE ENOUGH, DAD. THANK YOU!" Ron practically screamed, red in the face.
I snickered. It is quite obvious, isn't it? About Ron and Hermione, I mean. Ron used to be THE biggest fan of Bulgarian team's Seeker Viktor Krum. He used to have posters and merchandise of him. Every time we go to a quidditch supplies shop, he'd go straight to the famous players' corner and just stare at Krum's pictures.
That was up until two years ago, when during the Triwizard Tournament, he showed interest to Hermione. It's obvious that the reason why Ron stopped supporting his idol was because he felt jealous. Apparently, he likes Hermione more than he adores Krum.
Though I never really understood why he refuses to tell her. I mean it's also obvious that she likes him back.
But hey, who am I to judge? I can't even tell the person I've liked for the past five years what I really feel about him. I just couldn't find the right timing. Besides, he really liked that pretty, Asian upperclassman Cho Chang, and things got pretty serious between them… before they had a falling out at the end of last term, anyway.
But I lost my nerve, and now I'm not really sure what to do next, then Dean Thomas asked me out at the end of last term, and I kind of said yes, just out of spite, and - ugh!
Why does liking someone have to be so complicated? Maybe it's just best to leave the matters of the heart alone, for now.
It was then that I realized that both Mum and Dad are each carrying a boy, slumped unconscious across their backs. Something about the one's white blonde hair look awfully famil-
I reset my grip on my wand and aimed it at the tuft of white hair peeking over Mum's shoulder. "What's he doing here? Why's Malfoy here?"
As if realising for the first time that the three adults did not come home alone, my friends followed suit and aimed at the two extra characters.
"Professor, what is Malfoy doing here? Who's the other boy? What happened out there?" Harry inquired.
"Yeah, Mum, what's that git doing here?" Ron seconded.
"As much as I would wish to entertain your questions, I am afraid that right now, I cannot. These two boys are both in need of immediate medical attention. So if you would please step aside and make room, we need to let them lie down on the couch, at least until Madame Pomfrey arrives to have a proper look at them," Dumbledore said with an air of finality. It is a tone that allows no room for debate or discussion.
I reluctantly lowered my wand when I saw that the others had, as well. Although I am not comfortable that these two people are here, I am left with no choice but to trust Dumbledore's better judgement.
With a swish and flick of his wand, the living room rearranged itself that the couches made a makeshift bed for two. Mum and Dad lay the two boys down, side by side.
It was surreal seeing the two boys lying on our couch. Both were blondes. But where Malfoy was platinum and pale, the other was golden. He had long golden hair tied in a messy, loose braid, golden tan skin, even his eyelashes and eyebrows were all golden. He doesn't look much older than the rest of us. Although his face is littered with many cuts, bruises and scars, he is still quite beautiful to look at. Damn, he's sure to be a pretty one when he's all fixed up!
He had on the weirdest set of clothes. It looked almost like Muggle fashion, but not like any style I've seen before. He has on black leather pants, tucked into high platform boots and secured at his waist with a thick brown leather belt. A short, black jacket is worn over some black undershirt. Finally, a long, bright red leather coat whose hem is caked with mud, much like the soles of his boots. Oh, but his hands were covered with a soiled pair of once-white gloves.
As I was ogling at the newcomer, I faintly heard Hermione gasp. I turn to see her gaping at something, wide-eyed and terribly shocked. Ron and Harry looked on with similar expressions of surprise. I followed their line of sight.
Skip to the next author's note to skip this gorey portion.
My knees almost buckled at what I saw. Malfoy's side of the couch is now drenched in blood, which was pouring from the large tear on his right shoulder. He was now starting to convulse. Dad and Dumbledore were trying to hold him down while Mum pressed bandages on his shoulder, trying and failing to stop the bleeding. The floor around them was littered with blood-soaked bandages and pools of his blood.
"Wh-wh… What happened…?" Harry gulped out.
"Later, Harry," Dumbledore said, not bothering to look up. His hands firmly supporting Malfoy's head, as the last of his spasms faded away.
He was whimpering, Malfoy, that is. I'd never known Malfoy to sound so weak before. He was whimpering as blood dribbled out the corner of his mouth, down his chin. He must've bitten into his tongue through that episode earlier.
All that running in the reeds reopened Draco's splinched shoulder. With the great blood loss, he goes into shock and convulses violently. Dumbledore and Mr. Weasley hold him down. Harry asks Dumbledore what exactly was wrong with Draco, but Dumbledore promises to explain later. Malfoy soon stops shaking and lets out a whimper in pain.
"I'm not quite sure what is wrong with this other one," Dad said from the other side of the couch. He's let go of Malfoy to check on the other unfamiliar boy. "but his breath is short and labored," Dad brushed away some of the boy's fringe and touched his hand on his forehead, but quickly withdrew it. "He also seems to be running a very high fever, as well."
"I certainly hope that Madame Pomfrey will be here soon. I don't think these boys can last much longer without proper medical attention," Dumbledore stated. If he had been worried about the two, his voice certainly did not show it.
Alright, what the serious fuck happened? Why are they here? What happened to them?
Just then, green flames rose from the fireplace. As it died down, it revealed Madame Pomfrey.
"Just in time, Poppy," Dumbledore greeted, standing up. "I would've brought them to you at Hogwarts, but their delicate conditions make transporting them long distances impossible."
Madame Pomfrey nodded. She surveyed the boys' condition, clicking her tongue now and again. "Please clear the room. I only need Molly to assist me. Everyone else, please wait in the kitchen."
Dad ushered us out. A curtain divider was conjured to separate the living area from the kitchen.
"Bloody hell, what was that? What happened to them?" Ron demanded, though his voice shook a little. He was clearly disturbed by what he had seen.
Dumbledore gestured for us to sit down, and we did so diligently. He started pacing the room as we looked upon him, urging him to tell us.
"Earlier tonight, we were all gathered in here in the kitchen. Arthur has just arrived from work when the sneakoscope Alastor has given you started lighting up."
"The one that came in the mail today? The one with a five hundred yard radius?" I stupidly asked. I felt like I needed to talk, to try and croak out the lump forming in my throat. Heck, my voice sounded so raspy, I wonder if Dumbledore even understood me.
Dumbledore nodded before continuing, "Soon after, the unmistakable light if the killing curse lit up the sky. We went to investigate, leaving Harry to wake you and get ready to defend yourselves, should the need arise.
"Upon arriving at the origin of the blast, we found Bellatrix Lestrange and Peter Pettigrew. Bellatrix was shooting at a most unusual earth dome formation. Pettigrew was first to disapparate and flee. Bellatrix followed suit after seeing how outnumbered she was."
"Then seeing her particular interest in the earthen dome, Dumbledore asked your Mum and I to crack it open, but gently," Dad supplied. "Imagine our surprise when we saw what had been inside - Malfoy's boy, Draco, along with some unknown boy around your own age. They were both lying unconscious. Draco, in particular, was bleeding out on the ground. Molly decided that we should take them both in, and Dumbledore agreed that we cannot leave them out there. So he immediately called for Madame Pomfrey to meet us in the Burrow as soon as possible. Then the rest, you already know."
Hermione suddenly seemed to be snapped out of her trance. The shock seeing so much blood left her staring blankly at the ground until a moment ago. "But why would Bellatrix Lestrange ever want to kill Draco Malfoy? He's her nephew, isn't he?" she mumbled quietly.
"Yes, that is quite a curious circumstance," Dumbledore nodded in agreement, "However the only way for us to know why indeed is if Draco wakes up and tells us himself."
So we waited. We waited for hours. We waited until it was starting to get light out. Still, we waited some more.
Dad managed to nod off on the kitchen table a few hours ago. Dumbledore, on the other hand, looked like he would soon wear a hole into our floor with his pacing. My friends and I have been in and out of shallow sleep for the past few hours, never really getting more than a few minutes of shut eye. Well, everyone except Ron, that is. Just like Dad, he's already fast asleep.
Finally, the curtains drew apart. Madame Pomfrey stepped out, but she still doesn't look quite happy. She looks tired and worried.
"Headmaster, I have managed to stabilize Draco Malfoy's condition. He lost a lot of blood and his splinched shoulder got infected with all that running through the dirt. But he was fixed up quite easily. The other one, however, I am still unsure what ails him. I've given him everything I could think to give. All that's done is lower his body temperature, but his fever still hasn't broken and he's pale as death."
Just then, Mum poked out her head between the curtains. "Poppy! Poppy, come quick!"
Madame Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore went in, but left a crack in the makeshift divider in their haste. The others noticed the crack as well, and started to crowd to see through to the other side, too. Even Ron, who awoke at the sound of Mum's voice. Meanwhile, Dad was still snoring happily away.
Here's another gorey scene. Skip to the next note if you don't like it.
Through it, I could see the other boy convulsing and coughing. Blood was spewing from his mouth and running down his nose and ears. Suddenly, his back arched so far it looked like he would snap in two. His body lifted slightly off the couch. His face now hung upside down, facing us. His mouth was gaping in a silent scream, but what was unnerving the most was his eyes that were wide open. His eyes, as I had now come to know, was the brightest gold I've ever seen, but it's corners were tinged crimson red as they leaked bloodstained tears.
Ginny sees the mysterious, unidentified boy caught in a rather violent fit of convulsions (kind of like how Katie Bell was when she touched the cursed necklace, but with a whole lot more bleeding than the movie scene suggested - oops, that scene isn't set to happen until much, much later, is it?). Anyway, in a particularly back-arching fit, Ginny notes the unusually golden eye color of the boy.
Then, just like that, he dropped back down on the couch, shivering. The adults were left watching him in complete shock. Well, except Dumbledore, that is. He kept staring at the boy intently, as if trying to puzzle something together. He was mumbling something to himself, but was too faint for even Mum or Madame Pomfrey to hear.
"Where's Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore asked, out of the blue.
"He-He's up stairs, in the twins' old bedroom, resting. Headmaster," Madame Pomfrey turned to look at Dumbledore with a worried expression as he slowly mad his way over to where she is. "Headmaster, what are we to do with this one? He's dying, but I don't know what it is he's dying of. Headmaster, I have never failed to accurately diagnose anyone, and I hate to start now."
"Poppy, no one blames you."
"But I do, Headmaster. As a healer, it is my duty to attend to those who are ill. If I cannot save one nameless boy, then what am I?"
"Check for snake bites," someone croaked from the top of the stairs. I looked up to see a very pale Malfoy, clearly in pain, looking intently at the boy on the couch.
Madame Pomfrey was the first to be snapped out of her surprise, "What do you think you're doing out of bed, young man? Get back up there, now!" Though her voice shook, she still sounded firm in giving commands to her patients.
"Snake bite. Check for snake bites," Malfoy insisted, he is now slowly creeping down the steps, but it looks like the rail is all that's keeping him upright.
"I think I know what snake bites look like, Mr. Malfoy. This is no snake bite."
"Not if… not if the… snake… is a ma… maledictus…" He panted out with great effort. He was now at the bottom of the steps, attempting to leave the staircase and approach the couch. But as soon as his hand left the rail, his knees buckled and he would have fallen to the ground if Mum hadn't caught him. He was mumbling something inaudible, but by the looks of it, it sounded something like how he didn't need any help.
"Quiet! You've lost too much blood to be wandering about, back to bed with you!" Then Mum ushered him back up the stairs.
"You know, Poppy, what Mr. Malfoy says is correct," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "A regular viper would have killed with far less pain. But a maledictus' bite carries its own resentment with the blood curse it has in its venom. While it's bite is not infectious by nature, unlike that of a werewolf, it's venom is a hundred times more potent and its effects cause far more excruciating pain, if left untreated."
"But where would this boy be bitten by a maledictus? They are incredibly rare, nowadays. It's close to impossible to find one, let alone a venomous one!"
"Voldemort owns one as a pet. Nagini, his viper, is rumored to be a maledictus."
The matron nurse started inspecting the boy. When she got to the boy's right arm, she gasped loudly and almost dropped it too harshly. We couldn't see what it was she saw, but if that's how she reacted, then it must have been really bad.
"Oh Merlin's arse!" the madame exclaimed as she plopped down on a chair, worry lines visible on her forehead. "Where in the bloody hell are we going to get an antidote for that? They are very rare and very expensive!"
"As luck would have it, I know Severus to keep some in his personal stash. For his own security." Dumbledore waved his wand and his phoenix patronus sprang forth. Harry told us once that Dumbledore's patronus was a majestic bird, but I never imagined it to be a phoenix. It was beautiful. "Severus, I need you to come to the Burrow as soon as you can. Bring with you the antidote for Nagini's bite."
The phoenix was about to take flight, but Dumbledore stopped it. "Severus, I need you to bring some other things as well. Bring-"
Immediately, he stopped and was staring straight at us. As if he realized for the first time that the curtains were left open, he looked at us questioningly. With another swish of Dumbledore's wand, the gap in the curtain closed. Just like that, the Muffliato charm took effect again and we heard nothing coming through the divider.
It was silent for quite a while, not counting the constant buzzing caused by the charm placed on the curtains. And Dad's loud snoring in the background. Everyone was silent for Merlin knows how long.
"Bloody hell," Ron so intellectually provided to break the silence.
"What was that? Nagini bit him? Your father was bit by Nagini, too, wasn't he? Harry said so! But he wasn't like that before, right?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah, but Mr. Wesley was found and diagnosed as early as possible. This boy suffered through the bite for at least three hours, and that's counting only the time he spent here with us," Harry argued, "Although he wasn't ripped up like Mr. Weasley was before-" He stole a quick glance at Dad. We followed his gaze and came to a happily snoring, middle aged man slumped awkwardly on the kitchen table. Finding that Dad still hasn't stirred from his slumber, Harry continued, "I think the time he was left untreated allowed the venom to affect him more. It's no wonder if his symptoms are more severe."
"Did you all see his eyes, though?" I interjected.
"I'm sorry," Ron replied sarcastically, "but I was a bit preoccupied with the blood! There were lots streaming out of places it has no business coming out of!"
"Ronald, you really are insufferable!" Hermione hit him on his arm. He rubbed at the sore spot and scowled at her. She paid him no mind. "Well, I saw his eyes, and they are quite curious."
"I'm not sure I follow. What's curious about his eyes?" Harry cocked his head to the side.
"They're golden, as gold as his hair!"
At that moment, the curtains drew open, Mum stepped out. "I realize that you all must be very tired from staying up all night. Why don't you all head upstairs to your rooms? Harry, you'll share Ron's room. Please steer clear of the twins' bedroom. Draco is in there, and he will be needing his rest." She opened the curtains for us and ushered us in.
I walked in at the tail of the pack, the last one through the divider before Mum. The room was noticeably cleaner than it had been just a few minutes ago. Blood was scrubbed off everything. Even the boy looked like he was simply sleeping on the couch. Although, he was still very pale.
Madame Pomfrey was busying herself with bandages, towels, potions and other things she was tidying up. In the corner, I saw Snape talking to Dumbledore. I only got bits of their conversation, sounding like "Do you really think so? Is it even possible?" "I am not sure, but nothing else explains it." "Well, at least he's responding well to the treatment."
I grew curious about what it was they were talking about. I mean, I know they were talking about the boy, but what about him, I don't know.
We climbed up the stairs, Mum stayed at the bottom of the steps and watched us go up. We were soon out of her sight, but instead of going straight to bed, like we're told, we lingered in the hall, continuing our discussion.
"So what, he has golden eyes? Are you saying he's a werewolf? Like Professor Lupin?" Ron piped up.
"No, that's just it, he couldn't have been a werewolf!"
"What do you mean? How do you know for sure?"
Hermione was about to answer him with an exasperated sigh when someone else piped in, "You idiot! In case you didn't realize, last night was the night of the full moon. If he were a werewolf, he would've transformed."
I peered to see Draco leaning heavily on the doorpost still, but at least some color has returned to his cheeks. Or, at least as much color as his originally pale skin had in the first place. He was still panting slightly, although it would seem he has energy enough to diss Ron. He looked smaller in his loose-fitting red shirt, no doubt one of the twins'. The collar hung too low on one side that some of his bandaged shoulder was peeking out.
"Who asked you, you stupid little-"
"How are you feeling?" Harry, of all people, cut Ron off. "Are you even supposed to be out of bed?"
I was shocked to see the sincerity in his questions. He wasn't mocking or belittling Malfoy in any way. He genuinely wanted to know if Draco was fine to be out of bed so soon.
Clearly, even Draco himself was thrown off with Harry's question, as well. His eyes grew wide as saucers. His mouth moved wordlessly, doing an excellent impression of a fish. Then he finally found his voice and snapped, "None of your business, Potter! Leave me alone!"
With that, retreated into the room and slammed the door shut.
"I don't know about you guys, but something's fishy about those two," Ron commented, "Best if we keep an eye on them, I think." then he turned to Harry and clapped him on the shoulder as he led him up to his room, "By the way, man, happy birthday!"
Fun fact: I actually looked it up, and it turns out, July 30, 1996 was, in fact, a night of the full moon (like legit 100% visibility). I know Google said that Dumbledore moved Harry to the Burrow on July 16, 1996, but isn't this a bit more fun?
Anywho, that was Ginny's chapter. I hope you guys liked it. I'll be posting it's counterpart/other POV soon, and whoever guesses the narrator of the next chapter gets a free virtual high five and special mention in my next author's note (yay!).
But, thanks once again to all the supporters of this fic, new and old. I am glad you are enjoying reading this as much I enjoy writing it. Don't be shy, leave me a review. It could be anything, really. Fire away!
Special mentions to my avid reviewers:
Kora (my growing number 1 supporter, yay!),
thecapriciousren (they made it, yay! Also, I hope that not-so-subtle clue in the previous chapter gave you the insight to hypothesize on what exactly happened to Nagini),
Jostanos (I hope you also found the answer to your question in the previous chapter, but anyway, by the power vested in me by me, I hereby magically place an abandoned shack somewhere near the Burrow where Ed and Draco were spat out by the Floo),
TeraBaapBSKD (I hope the last chapter really helped), and
Meiiii (thanks for the support, I hope you continue to enjoy this fic).