----------------------------------------------------------CONFIDANTE----------------------------------------------------------
Romilda smiled wickedly. "Tonight, Ginny."
Ginny blinked. "Tonight? But...but that doesn't give me enough time to—"
Romilda's eyes flashed. "To what?"
Ginny bowed her head. "Nothing, Romilda."
Romilda smiled again. "Good. And I want proof that she's expelled, you hear me? I want that girl out of this school. Go, now. I want to be alone."
Ginny took a few steps back, nodding. Once she was far enough away from her, she turned and ran. She ran at her fastest speed, and by the time she got to the castle's doors, she bent over, clutching her side, panting heavily. Even though the stitch in her side was giving her much discomfort, she felt relieved. She felt free. She looked back to where Romilda was, but couldn't see anything. It was too dark.
What had she agreed to do? Why had she agreed to do it? Romilda had some unfortunate hold over Ginny, and she couldn't figure out why. She wished she could go back and have it out with that witch, but she knew that it would be futile. The "voice" would probably take control over her.
Ginny leaned against the cool wall, gathering her thoughts. She thought that getting Hermione expelled for a trivial thing was pathetic, and frankly, not worth pursuing. But Romilda wanted proof. Ginny had no idea what Romilda was capable of. She had changed completely, and it scared a small part of Ginny that Romilda could have that much power.
Ginny racked her brain. What could she do? Should she tell Harry? She became cold at the thought of Harry, so she brushed it away. Maybe she should tell Hermione? But Hermione was probably angry with Ginny due to the way she had been treated. Ginny couldn't tell the twins either; they wouldn't believe her. An image of a red-faced git popped into her mind, and she brushed that away with a small roll of her eyes. No, Ron would be utterly useless if she told him.
So who did that leave?
Neville? Luna? No, they were in a world of their own.
Ginny sighed. With one last choice left, she hurried down the many corridors as fast as her stitch would allow her to, and came to a sudden halt in front of the gargoyle. "I need to speak to Professor McGonagall," she wheezed.
The gargoyle remained motionless.
"Please!" Ginny pleaded. "It's urgent!"
It still remained motionless.
Ginny drew out her wand, a snarl on her face. "Stupid, bloody gargoyle," she muttered. She pointed her wand at the gargoyle. "Bombar—"
"Weasley!" came a short bark that was accompanied by hurried footsteps.
Ginny whirled around, clutching her wand in front of her defensively. As soon as she saw who it was, she lowered it. She turned back to the gargoyle. "I thought you were someone else," she said.
The person came to a stop beside her, looking at her with blatant surprise. "Were you about to curse that gargoyle?"
Ginny frowned impatiently. "It doesn't want to let me in, Malfoy. What did you expect me to do?"
Malfoy rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Your spell wouldn't have worked, by the way," he said coolly.
Ginny felt her nostrils flare. She prodded him in his chest – whatever part wasn't covered by his arms. "This is urgent, Malfoy," she stressed. "I need to see Professor McGonagall."
"How urgent is urgent, Weasley?" Malfoy asked, smirking.
"Stop it! Or I swear I'll curse your you-know-what off," Ginny threatened, her eyes narrowing.
Malfoy had the cheek to roll his eyes. "What do you need to see her for?"
"Hermione is in trouble, you idiot!" Ginny practically yelled. She found his offhand manner incredibly annoying.
Suddenly his expression changed. He looked almost – almost – concerned. "What kind of trouble?" he asked more seriously. He looked at Ginny intently waiting for an answer.
Ginny shifted. She wasn't too sure whether Malfoy should know about Romilda or not. She couldn't see him believing her. He would probably laugh at her. She looked at him. "Look, she's just in trouble. I need to see McGonagall now. So if you can help me, Malfoy..."
Malfoy regarded her for a few seconds, deliberating. He seemed to make up his mind. He nodded, and walked forward towards the gargoyle, straight passed Ginny. He leaned forward, tapping the gargoyle's ear with his wand. He whispered something that Ginny couldn't hear. A few moments later, the gargoyle sprung to life, and stood aside, revealing a spiral staircase behind him. Ginny's eyes widened.
Malfoy turned back to face her. "Only the Heads and your Potter are privy to the passwords, Weasley. Sorry."
Ginny shook off the "your Potter" comment, and asked, "Why would Harry know the passwords?"
Malfoy shook his head to himself, his lips twitching. "Beats me," he said quietly. He led the way up the stairs, and just as Ginny stepped onto the first step, the gargoyle slid back into place. Ginny glanced behind her, and then back up, following Malfoy. "Why are you coming?"
Malfoy glanced over his shoulder at her. "No need to sound so welcome, Weasley," he said quietly, half-smiling.
Ginny pursed her lips. "I'm just saying, is all. It's not necessary for you to be here."
----
Draco muttered, "It is necessary."
"What's that?" Weasley asked from behind him.
"Nothing," Draco replied. He came to the top of the staircase and carried on moving down a straight, short corridor.
He heard her steps behind him, so he didn't turn around to check if she was following. Not long after, they came to a stop outside a great, polished door. "Here we are," he announced, glancing at her.
"I know that," she snapped, and reached passed him to knock lightly on the door.
Draco felt like laughing. Her temper was almost as amusing as Granger's.
"What are you smirking at?" she snapped at him again.
Draco shook his head silently, and carried on looking ahead. The door opened, and McGonagall appeared before them. She looked shocked. "Mr Malfoy, Miss Weasley, it's incredibly late."
Weasley stepped forward. "Professor, this could not be postponed until the morning," she said, a note of urgency in her voice.
Draco glanced at her.
"What is it, Miss Weasley?"
"Romilda Vane is attempting to overthrow Hermione ... kind of," she said quietly.
Draco narrowed his eyes. He didn't realize that he was gripping his wand rather tightly.
McGonagall opened her door wider. "What?" she asked. She glanced quickly at Draco, and Draco read more in her eyes. "Please come in," McGonagall said, and Weasley and he followed her into her office. Draco automatically glanced at Snape's portrait, and nodded at him.
"Draco," Snape said in acknowledgement. Draco half-smiled.
"How are you?" Snape asked.
McGonagall glared impatiently at his portrait. "Severus, could we leave this for another time? We have a pressing matter on our hands at the moment."
Snape shrugged, but Draco nodded again. He hoped that Severus would understand that he was okay. Snape's eyebrows shot up. Draco heaved a silent sigh. Was Snape that surprised? Draco turned away from the portrait, and looked at McGonagall instead.
"Pride," he heard Snape scoff. Draco pretended to ignore him.
"Severus," McGonagall said in a warning voice. She sat in her chair, gesturing for Weasley and him to do the same thing.
They did, and McGonagall folded her one hand over the other. "Miss Weasley, please start at the beginning," she instructed.
Weasley sighed, and Draco turned to face her, also wanting to know what happened. "It actually started in your Transfiguration class today, Professor," she said.
McGonagall closed her eyes, and sighed. "No need to say anymore. I completely understand," she said in a weary voice.
Weasley frowned. "But, Professor, I haven't even told you what happened!"
"I can guess," the professor said. She turned to look at Draco. "Your theory, Malfoy," she said lightly, "seems to be correct."
Draco tilted his headHerm slightly. "I already knew that, Professor," he said. He knew he sounded arrogant, but he really did already know that his theory was correct.
The professor's eyebrows rose slightly. "Well, here's further proof."
Draco leaned forward, and he glanced between the professor and Weasley (who was looking thoroughly confused). "Which is?" he asked.
"Miss Vane has been cast the role of the step-mother—"
"I know that," Draco said, interrupting her before he could stop himself.
Her eyes flashed. "She has been cast the role of step-mother, and seems to be acting just like her character."
So he had been wrong. Vane was capable of being an evil step-mother.
"She transformed her object into a mirror, Mr Malfoy," McGonagall continued. "A mirror that would tell her who was the beautiful in the school." She let her sentence hang in the air, and Draco absorbed it too quickly.
He inhaled a deep breath.
"You heard that?" Weasley asked incredulously.
"I hear everything that happens in my classroom, Miss Weasley," McGonagall assured her.
Draco shifted in his chair. Had Granger been near Vane at all today? He racked his brain. He needed to keep Granger as far away as possible from Vane. If she got too close... Draco fidgeted with his hands. He didn't know why he cared so much, but he knew he couldn't let the two people come into contact with each other. Perhaps it was because Granger was his friend. Yes, that was it. This was a quality of friendship. How strange.
"We need to keep Granger as far away from Romilda Vane as possible, Professor," he said.
"Hang on," Weasley said, interrupting them. "You mean, everybody who received roles for the musical, acts like their character?"
Draco looked at the professor, and then back at Weasley. "Pretty much," he replied quietly.
Weasley slumped in her chair. "That explains so much," she whispered.
Draco nodded. Of course it would. He had derived the theory, after all.
"Back to the matter at hand," McGonagall said. "Why is Miss Granger in trouble?"
"You know how in the book the step-mother wants the hunter to kill Snow White so that nobody else can be more beautiful than her?" Ginny asked.
The professor nodded, and Draco gripped the sides of his chair. He had a funny feeling where this was going.
"Well, it turns out that when Romilda asked her mirror for the second time, it replied that Hermione was the most beautiful in the school – not her."
Draco's eyebrows shot up. Granger? Then again, it was based on a fairytale after all...
"And then?" the professor asked.
"And then – I'm the hunter, you see, - so then she asked me to get Hermione expelled," Ginny said quietly.
Draco let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. So Weasley hadn't been ordered to kill Granger. It's just expulsion.
"Expelled," McGonagall repeated. "Miss Weasley, do you have little faith in this school?"
Weasley looked shocked. "No, Professor, why would you say that?"
"It sounds as if you think Miss Vane would be able to bypass the school's management, and get Miss Granger expelled for no reason at all."
Weasley's eyes widened. "Not at all, Professor. It's just that she seems quite dangerous..."
McGonagall glanced at Draco. "What do you think we should do, Mr Malfoy?"
"I think that we shouldn't take any chances, Professor," Draco replied honestly.
"You think she should get expelled?" Weasley asked incredulously.
"Don't be ridiculous," Draco said disapprovingly. "Vane is potentially dangerous, so I think Granger should just go to classes with the Invisibility Cloak that Potter has. That way she won't see her and therefore can't harm her."
"How do you know Harry has an Invisibility Cloak?" Weasley asked, shocked.
"That's all very well, Mr Malfoy, but there's a flaw in your plan," McGonagall said, ignoring Weasley.
Draco felt puzzled. He thought of what possible flaws there could be in his plan, and then after a while, he said, "Oh."
"Precisely," McGonagall said.
"Where's the flaw?" Weasley asked.
Draco let McGonagall do the talking. "If she's still in the castle, Miss Vane would know if she ever had to ask that mirror of hers. Even if Miss Granger were to be invisible, it wouldn't help her position."
"Oh," Weasley said in the same tone Draco had.
"Mr Malfoy, don't you think this is taking it too far?"
Draco felt like slapping her. "She has the character of the woman who ends up killing Snow White!"
McGonagall pursed her lips. "Very well. We can place Miss Granger in Hagrid's. I'm sure he wouldn't mind."
"Sorry, but did you say Hagrid's?" Draco asked, hoping he had heard incorrectly.
McGonagall nodded.
Draco's eyebrows furrowed. "But there's not enough room in his cabin for her to sleep in!"
"He's half-giant, Malfoy," Weasley drawled.
"But still. Where will she do her homework? Study for exams? Eat? She's used to the Common Room," Draco argued.
"A simple Expanding Charm on Hagrid's cabin could help, Mr Malfoy. And besides, this is a temporary measure. It should only be for a day or so."
"I don't know..." Draco said, thinking. He tried to think what would be best for Granger. "It's taken us this long to come up with a solution, and we have nothing."
"I'm in frequent contact with more experienced people than you are, Mr Malfoy. It shouldn't be too great a problem."
Draco was still deliberating.
"It's for her safety, Mr Malfoy," McGonagall reminded him.
"Of course," Draco said. "Fine, then. I'll let her know."
"Very well. Miss Weasley, here's the 'proof'," McGonagall said. She waved her wand, and her quill began to write across a piece of parchment.
"What is it, Professor?" Weasley asked.
"It's a letter announcing Miss Granger's expulsion. Show it to Miss Vane. Hopefully, that will keep her temporarily satisfied, and will delay her issuing the poisoned apple – if there is one."
"Professor, why can you not send Romilda out of the school? It would make this all less-complicated," Weasley asked. Draco agreed with her.
"And say what to her parents, Miss Weasley?" McGonagall asked.
Weasley remained silent. When the letter was finished, it folded itself up, and settled on top of Ginny's head. She reached up to get it, and tucked it into her robes.
"If that's all, Miss Weasley and Mr Malfoy, I'll make arrangements with Hagrid now," McGonagall said. "Thank Merlin it's Friday – we have the weekend to sort this out."
"Thank you, Professor," Draco said, getting up. Weasley followed his example, and Draco left the room with her behind him.
After closing the door, they walked briskly down the hallway. "So will you tell her?" Weasley asked him.
"Yes," he replied shortly.
They reached the staircase, and Draco descended them. "Malfoy?" Ginny asked from behind him.
"Yes?"
"I was just thinking...at the end of the book—" Draco gritted his teeth, but didn't say anything. He knew what was coming next. "—Prince Charming marries Snow White."
"Glad to know you can read, Weasley," he said, trying to cover up the emotions her statement brought to the surface.
"I was just wondering how that was going to happen in this realm," she said.
He chose not to respond. He tapped his wand on the gargoyle, and it slid to the side. He hurried out, and he heard her following him. "Malfoy, I said something."
"And what you said is not our primary focus right now," he said. "Look, I'm going to go tell Granger now."
And with that, he rushed off, leaving Ginny staring at him, shocked. Bloody hell, it was just a statement for crying out loud!
---
"Granger!" Draco called out in a rush as he ran into the Common Room. She had been sitting on the floor, bending over the coffee table, scribbling on a piece of parchment. She jumped slightly, and her quill skidded across the parchment accidentally.
"Malfoy!" she complained, looking up only briefly.
"It's not as if you can't undo it," he said impatiently. She was looking all over for her wand, lifting up her books. "Let me," said Draco. He waved his wand, and the ink cleared up.
"Thanks," she muttered. She blew the few shiny black strands that kept falling into her face away, only to find that they settled back into place, irritating her eyes.
"Granger, you need to leave," Draco said quietly, walking towards her.
She looked up at him, and then looked back at her work. "Want me out so soon?" she asked, smiling.
"Granger, I'm being serious," Draco said. He sat down a few spaces from her. He glanced at her parchment. Almost all the space that could be used was filled with her words. He found that he was leaning in to look at her words, so he pulled back.
She hadn't replied. "Granger."
"Hm?" she asked, sounding as if she wasn't really listening.
Draco grew irritated. He directed his wand at her parchment, and in the next second her parchment had crumbled to ash. Thankfully, he got the reaction he wanted.
She whipped her head around to face him, her eyes blazing. "Malfoy! What the bloody hell did you do to my essay!"
Malfoy closed his eyes for a few seconds. Granger would be very good at acting. She could get fairly...expressive. She didn't sound too high-pitched either. It wasn't annoying at all when she screamed. It really was amusing. The way she sounded so irritated over such a small issue...
Thwack.
"Hey!" he said, his eyes flying open. "What did you hit me for?"
"Because you crumbled my essay! To ash!" she screeched.
"Well, your hit didn't hurt," he said, a small smile lighting up his face.
She narrowed her eyes.
"But at least I got your attention," he said softly. Her brown eyes were flashing angrily, but he knew her anger would fade soon. Her red lips were in a straight line. "Romilda Vane is after your blood, Granger," he said in the same tone.
"We already know that," she snapped, glaring at him.
"Granger, I'll undo the spell on your essay just now. If you could just focus on what I'm saying..." Draco said. She was still glaring at him. "Please?" he asked softly, staring intently into her eyes. Her eyes seemed to haze over. She blinked.
"Just tell me, already," she said, but her tone had come down a few levels in volume.
He shifted his position on the floor, facing her. "Granger, earlier today in little Weasley's Transfigurations class..." and then he told her the rest of the she-Weasley's day. Granger opened her mouth at some parts – not to interrupt, but of surprise.
When he had finished, she said in a small voice, "It's almost exactly like the book. Except, here, Ginny's been ordered to get me expelled; not get me killed."
"Exactly," Malfoy said gently. He felt extreme pity for Granger. He knew she would kill him if she knew that he pitied her. But, all this trouble was directed primarily at her. "You're going to spend the weekend at Hagrid's," he said.
"What?" she asked, clearly startled. "Did you say Hagrid's?"
Draco's lips twitched. "That's what I said. But clearly, McGonagall thinks it's best for you to stay with him."
"But...there's not enough room in his cabin," Granger said quietly.
Draco looked at her, half-smiling. "I said that as well. McGonagall's arranging an Expanding Charm on his cabin."
She nodded slowly. And then she jerked her head. "Wait, did you say McGonagall?"
"Have you gone back to being deaf?" he asked her teasingly.
She rolled her eyes. "No, it only just registered. Does that mean she knows?"
"She was the first person I told my theory to," Draco replied. He leaned his head against the couch seat and looked at her.
Her eyebrows shot up. "Really?"
"Why do you sound so surprised?" he asked softly.
She bit her lip. "I'm surprised because you actually talked to someone about something as personal as a thought," she murmured.
Draco merely looked at her. How much did she actually know about him? It was eerie how she could pinpoint his traits so perfectly.
He tried to scoff. "No need to sound surprised, Granger. I am perfectly capable of confiding in others."
She let out a small laugh. "Right, I completely believe you." She leaned back into the sofa and closed her eyes.
Draco felt as if, by closing her eyes, she was severing the connection between them. He inched closer to her, being careful to keep a safe distance from her.
"I'll prove it to you," he said, his voice really low. She opened her eyes quickly, and Draco watched as they widened at his closeness. He couldn't speak in normal volumes. The situation didn't call for that.
"How?" she asked softly, gazing up at him.
Draco racked his brain. "When I was two, I got my first broomstick –it was a toy one, mind you – and I accidentally broke it. My father was incredibly angry that it was broken, so I blamed it on the house elf, Dobby."
Her soft eyes turned hard as she glared at him. "That's not exactly confiding, Malfoy," her voice a hard whisper.
He grinned. "I know. The atmosphere isn't right for secret-telling," he said. He drew out his wand, and flicked it. All the lights went out, and when he looked around him, he could hardly see a thing.
"What was that for?" came her voice somewhere from his right.
Draco paused. He wasn't too sure how much of the truth he should tell her. What did friends do? "When confiding in someone," he murmured, "you sort of bare your emotions to them. It's ... difficult enough for me to do that. And when someone can read your face as well as your words... it scares me a little. So the only side I'm...willing to expose is my words." His words hung in the air before them, and it was up to her to either grab them and understand them, or leave them hanging there.
"I see," she said simply.
"What do you want to know?" he asked, glad that she didn't ask him to explain why he had felt that way.
"How much time do we have?" she asked.
"About twenty minutes, before McGonagall calls you," he sighed.
A few comfortably silent moments passed between them, and then, "Why are you suddenly nicer?"
This question startled Draco. He had no idea how to answer it without giving too much away. "Next," he said quietly. He closed his eyes, leaning back against the couch, folding his arms across his chest.
"Next?"
"Yes, next."
"Why don't you want to ... never mind. Uh, let me think," she said.
Draco thought of a tune, and he began to hum it softly, tapping his foot gently against the carpet.
"Why did you want to become friends with me?" she asked, finally arriving at another question.
Her question halted the tune, so that it was caught in his throat. How to answer that one? "Next," he decided.
He heard her hand connecting with the carpet. "Malfoy, there's no point to this."
His heart skipped a beat. Why would she say that? "What do you mean?"
"You're not even confiding! You don't have to...but it proves my point of you not liking to confide in others."
Draco felt as if she was challenging him. "What was your first question again?" he asked.
She sighed. "You don't have to do this, Malfoy."
"Your first question. What was it?" he persisted.
"Why are you suddenly nicer?" she asked, though her voice was still covered with mild reluctance.
Draco didn't have to think twice about the answer. He was just wondering how she would interpret it. "Because of you," he said simply. He wished he could see her reaction. Would her eyes widen as they usually did when she was shocked? Would she bite her lower lip as she usually did when she self-conscious or nervous?
"I can't make any light of that," she said after a minute.
"That's not a question," he said softly, his eyes closing.
"Could you elaborate?"
Draco chose his words carefully. "You saw me for who I was – who I had been. And you managed to bring most of the 'old me' to the surface ... I miss certain parts of my old life, and you remind me of a certain person that has been left behind in my past... You just...you helped me to become emotionally stable again." In effect, he was really saying thank you.
"You're...welcome," she said, as if reading his mind. "Who do I remind you of?"
Draco thought of the pale blonde hair neatly wrapped up into a bun. "My mother..." he said softly, remembering.
She didn't reply, and Draco realized how strange it must have sounded. "I know it's rather uncomfortable being told that you remind somebody of his mother, but it's just... the fact that you care whether I live or die speaks volumes. And you and my mother are on par with most things, I think," he said. He wondered how his parents were doing. Were they warm enough? Did they have the energy to confide in each other like this?
"I don't mind, actually," she said quietly. "If I remind you of her, then it's almost a semblance of home, right?"
Draco smiled softly. "Right," he murmured.
He couldn't see a thing, but he could imagine her smiling right now. He focused on that image to control his thoughts. "Your next question."
"Why are we friends?" she asked, more interest inflicted into her voice.
Easy. "Because you keep me sane," he replied.
"Oh," she said. "That's good, I guess."
After a while of no speaking, he said, "Do you see what I mean about baring naked emotions?"
"Yes," Granger said quietly.
"I have a question of my own," Draco said.
"Ask," she said, a smile lightening her voice.
"Why do you care?" This question genuinely disturbed him. why did she have to give him so much of her time? Why waste it on him?
"Would you rather I not?"
No, I wouldn't. "That doesn't answer the question," he replied.
She let out a long sigh. "Honestly, I have no idea. I just feel the ... need to ... 'care', as you put it."
He raised his eyebrows. "What would you call it, if not 'care'?" he asked.
She hesitated. "Well, Malfoy, I would call it..." she trailed off, and Draco wondered how hard she was thinking.
"Yes?"
"I would call it..."
"You just said that," he pointed out.
"I don't know what I'd call it. Maybe you're right," she said. Was that realization in her voice? Or just surprised that he happened to know her as well as she knew him?
"Aren't I always?" he asked, trying to break the tension.
She laughed quietly, and they both fell into silence.
"How much time do I have left?" she asked after a few minutes.
"I can't exactly see my watch, but I suppose about five to ten minutes."
He reached for his wand and waved it. The lights came back, and they both had to blink a few times to adjust to the sudden light. After their eyes had adjusted, they immediately glanced at each other. Draco held back a gasp. He was practically next to Granger, not even a few spaces apart. He was so close, he could count every eyelash. He blinked, and he heard her gulp. He cocked his head in response. Perhaps he had some kind of effect on her. She licked her lips.
He felt something build up between them; something that closely resembled the time when they had combined their magic. It felt powerful, and Draco found it difficult to look away from her eyes.
Was this friendship? Was this what it felt like?
Maybe when you became really good friends with someone, it felt like this. Maybe after sharing important information with someone, it felt like this. As if everything was exposed, as if you had nothing left to hide, as if you wanted to know more about the other person. It felt free, as if magical energy had just been shared.
How could friendship be defined?
A rap at the door brought them both to attention, and Draco quickly glanced at his watch. "Oh. Turns out you don't even have five minutes. That's probably McGonagall at the door right now. You should pack ... I'll bring the rest of your stuff down tomorrow."
Granger nodded and jumped up, and immediately Draco felt imbalanced. His head ached, but he also got up, and headed to open the portrait door.
---------------------------------------------------------to be continued-------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Sorry about long delay! Promise I'll be updating more frequently now. The school term's almost over, so no more tests
A big than you to all my reviewers I love you all, and your reviews really make my day! If you have time, please drop by a review