The Gryffindor Common Room was crowded with noisy students making plans for
the holidays on this evening in mid-December. There was a large, warm fire
burning in the hearth, the walls were decorated with festive garlands and
bright bows, and cheerful Christmas music was playing in the background
from some enterprising Muggle-born student's portable stereo. In all, it
seemed, as Colin Creevey would say in his Muggle-speak, 'a Kodak moment'.
Ginny Weasley sat with a few other sixth year students at one of the tables against the wall. The others were watching, fascinated, as Ginny demonstrated a skill she'd picked up from Fred and George when she'd worked in their joke shop over the summer holiday.
"Go on, Gin," Colin said, holding up his ever-present camera. "Once more, so I can show Mum and Dad!"
Ginny pushed back a lock of the shoulder length red hair that curled about her face and grinned. "All right, Colin, just once more, but I don't know how well it will show up on film."
Ginny dipped her quill in her inkbottle and looked around at the other students. She handed the quill to her best friend, Ariel Johnson.
"Come on, Ari, I haven't done yours yet," Ginny said coaxingly.
The tall black girl looked dubiously at the quill. "You know I don't like-- -," Ariel began. Ginny cut her off.
"Lord, Ari, do you think I'm going to forge love letters in your name?"
The other students urged her on, and Ariel finally agreed. "What should I write?" she asked.
"Anything," Ginny answered. "Just as long as it's a good sample of your writing."
Ariel thought for a moment, then wrote: Have a Happy Christmas and a Joyous New Year.
She handed the parchment she'd written on and the quill to Ginny. Ginny studied the writing for a moment, re-inked the quill, and started just below Ariel's message.
Have a Happy Christmas and a Joyous New Year, she wrote in a perfect imitation of Ariel's writing. Colin snapped several pictures and the others applauded. Ariel looked thoughtful, but didn't say anything.
"Well, that's it," Ginny said, scooting her chair back and standing. Colin put his camera down and picked up the parchment.
"I have got to get a video camera!" he said, then remembered that some Muggle technology didn't work on the Hogwarts ground. At least according to Hermione Granger and Hogwarts; a History. He absently folded the parchment, but Ginny snatched it from his hand. She studied the several different messages and her perfect imitation of the various hands. Grinning at Colin, she crumpled the parchment into a ball.
"Can't leave the evidence lying around, now, can I?"
She walked to the fire and tossed the ball of parchment in, watching the flames devour it. It was something Fred and George had drilled into her when they'd taught her this particular little trick. Always get rid of the evidence. Ginny frowned, then shrugged. She wasn't hurting anyone, and she wouldn't think of actually forging anything real. It was nothing more than a cheap parlor trick she used to pass time and not think. She turned back to where Ariel was waiting for her and the two girls headed up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.
"How DO you do that, Ginny," Ariel asked when they were alone.
Ginny shrugged again. "Dunno, Fred just showed me what to do, and I did it. Ron tried, too, but he couldn't get the hang of it." Ginny gave her friend a weak smile. "It's just in fun, Ari. You know I'd never really use it for anything. Just a way to pass time."
Ariel shook her head, thinking her friend sounded preoccupied. She considered asking her what was bothering her. Then she changed her mind. Gin would tell her when she was ready. "You staying for the holidays, then?" she asked mildly.
"Yeah," Ginny said without enthusiasm. "Bill's wife had her baby last week and Mum and Dad are going to spend the holidays with them. So Ron and I are stuck here."
They entered the small room they had shared for the last five and a half years. Ginny wandered over to Ariel's bed and sat in the middle of the mattress. She picked up the picture of Ariel and her sister Angelina, courtesy of Colin. Ariel was mugging and making faces, and Angelina, in her Gryffindor Quidditch robes, was rolling her eyes.
"So how is Angelina doing? Does she like playing for the Holyfield Harpies?" Ginny wished she were as good a chaser as Angelina had been. Then maybe she would also be scouted for a professional Quidditch team.
"She loves it, except that it's just women on their team. She misses playing with men."
Ginny looked up suddenly and met Ariel's eyes. Both girls broke into loud laughter when they realized what Ariel had said. Ariel recovered first and wiped her eyes.
"I didn't mean it THAT way, Gin. You're just perverted!"
"Hey, you started laughing first!" Ginny accused. That set them off again. After they had their laugh, Ginny set the picture down and moved to her own bed. After washing up, brushing her teeth and changing into her pajamas, Ginny crawled into her bed. Ariel extinguished the lights in the room.
"Are you sure you don't want to stay with us for the holidays, Gin," Ariel asked.
Ginny pulled the blankets up to her chin. Ariel and Angelina, along with their older brother Anthony and his wife and kids would be crowding into the Johnson home. She would love to stay, especially since it would get her out of Hogwarts for a while, but she would feel like an intruder. Besides, she'd checked the list of those staying and Draco Malfoy's name had not been on it. That was a relief. He had been worse than usual lately.
"Thanks, Ari, I really appreciate the offer. But I think I'll keep Ron company. Besides, it will be two weeks without trying to avoid Malfoy. And right now, I could really use that."
"All right, Ginny, but we still have a few days, so if you change your mind, just let me know, 'kay?"
Ginny smiled and thanked all the fates that she had such a good friend. "Okay. G'night, Ari."
"And, Ginny?"
"Mmmm?" came the sleepy reply.
"If you ever need to, you know, talk?" She left the words hanging.
Ginny wondered if her preoccupation with Malfoy and the hard time he'd been giving her lately was that obvious. Finally she said with affection, "I know, Ari. And I appreciate it. G'night."
Ariel sighed. "Good night, Gin."
Ginny approached her magical healing class the next day with a feeling of foreboding. She'd had a bad feeling all morning and it seemed to be focused on this class. An average student in most areas of study, Ginny had found that she had an extraordinary talent for healing. So much so, that she was rapidly advanced through her own year studies and was placed in a seventh year class. Unfortunately, her schedule was so tight with the other required classes that she had been placed in the Slytherin seventh year healing class. If the headmaster hadn't made the subject a required class for all fifth years and up, she would have dropped it. She even tried to argue that she had already finished the course work for her current year. But her arguments fell on deaf ears. Even her own Head of House, Professor McGonagall, had brushed off her concerns.
"You, Miss Weasley, will be expected to set an example for the other students. Remember that you are a Weasley and a Gryffindor," the Transfiguration instructor had admonished in her stern voice. Then she had relented a bit. "Besides, Miss Weasley," she'd added. "I needn't tell you that with the rise of He Who Must Not Be Named, we will need all our healers trained to their fullest capabilities."
Ginny had understood, but she couldn't help wondering bitterly at the time what kind of example she was supposed to set? How to be the perfect scapegoat for arrogant, sodding gits who hated poor, smart Gryffindors? Of course none of the Slytherins had liked her being in the class, but Draco Malfoy had seemed to take it as a personal affront. She knew he had complained to Professor Snape, who had made it his mission to make her life hell in Potions. Not only did she have to put up with Malfoy's abuse in the hallways and classroom, but Professor Snape now made snide remarks about her in her Potions class, as well.
Ginny took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling the tension knotting up in her shoulders. She loved the class, but hated coming here every day. Come on, Ginny, she told herself. Two more days, and Malfoy will be gone for the holidays! Two blessed Malfoy-free weeks! Ginny straightened her shoulders and opened the door to her Healing classroom. She could make it through two more days. Besides, how much worse could it get?
Ginny had cause to remember those words. It could get a lot worse. Class had been going along fine. Being so close to the end of the term, they were doing mostly review work and the instructor, a former medi-wizard for the Falmouth Falcons Quidditch team, wasn't asking many questions. Those he did ask were simple enough for even Gregory Goyle to answer. But toward the end of class he had pulled out a different book and held it up. Ginny recognized it as one she had been reading occasionally in the library. It contained treatments for wounds caused by dark magic. It had been on the list of texts they would need to study from, but wasn't scheduled until the next term. Ginny's feeling of foreboding became more pronounced.
"I realize we weren't planning to use this text until next term," Medic Timmons said in his light mellow voice. "But have any of you taken the time to look it over yet?"
Unlike Hermione Granger, Ginny seldom volunteered to answer questions, and almost never did so in this class. She kept her hands firmly on the table.
Medic Timmons frowned at the class. No hands were raised. "Come, now," he cajoled. "Surely some of you have at least flipped through the pages?"
The Slytherins moved uneasily in their seats, trying to avoid his direct, questioning glance. Ginny found her chipped nail polish suddenly very interesting.
"No one was the least curious about healing dark magic wounds?" the medic asked, disbelieving. "Miss Weasley, I'm sure I saw you leafing through this book in the library, just last week."
Ginny's face turned red. She could feel the hostile stares from the other students, and an especially malevolent feeling was coming from where Malfoy sat behind her. She looked up at the instructor and said in a shaky voice, "I suppose, uh, that, uh I might have glanced through it, sir."
The snicker from behind her made Ginny's blood boil. "She supposes she might have looked," she heard Malfoy sneer quietly. "Of course, being a stupid little weasel, she wouldn't be sure about it."
Ginny's face burned when she heard the sniggers from Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini. She wanted to turn around and slap his face, but knew she didn't have the courage for it. She didn't care about the points it might cost Gryffindor, she just once longed to be able to put the arrogant bastard in his place.
Medic Timmons had apparently heard Malfoy's comment, too. His eyes narrowed and he strode toward Malfoy's desk.
"My, my, you certainly have a lot to say, Mr. Malfoy," the medic said in a smooth voice. "Why don't you tell the class what pearls of knowledge you've gleaned from this text? I'll assume that since you were making comments to Miss Weasley, you were discussing your common studies, and not, as it seemed, using MY class time to carry out your personal feud. I am right, am I not?"
Ginny smiled slightly. She would have turned to smirk at Malfoy, but she wasn't an idiot. If the instructor chose to single him out for a reprimand, that was great, but she wouldn't give him any reason to take it out on her. Her smile froze, though, when Medic Timmons continued.
"Nothing useful to add, Mr. Malfoy? Well, then," he said musingly, "I think I'll have a little contest." He returned to the front of the classroom and erased the notes from the chalkboard. He then wrote a large letter 'G' and a large letter 'S'.
"This will be an easy way for you to earn points for your house," he informed them with a hard smile.
"I'm going to ask questions from this book," he said, indicating the text in question. He held up his hands for quiet as the students started protesting. "Read your course list again," he said firmly. "This text is not scheduled until after the holidays, but it was made clear that if you were ahead of schedule, we would use it this term."
Ignoring the groans from the class, he continued. "I will try to keep the questions to the more simple and common sense, but for every correct answer, I will award your house five points. Keep two things in mind. First, this seems like an excellent opportunity for those of you in Slytherin to earn more points than Gryffindor, as there are eight of you and only one Gryffindor. And second," his eyes became as hard as his smile and he looked directly over Ginny's head. "Second," he repeated, "you have Mr. Malfoy to thank for this little contest. I will not tolerate students abusing one another in my classes."
Ginny's heart sank as she heard the hisses and comments the Slytherins directed toward Malfoy. He had been publicly dressed down by a teacher, and would, of course, blame her.
Medic Timmons flipped through the pages, then paused. "First question: What is the antidote for the 'Draught of Living Death'?"
Ginny was torn. She knew the answer, and wanted to earn points for Gryffindor, but it was hard enough being in this class without showing up the Slytherins. Suddenly, Medic Timmons said, "Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"
"An infusion of foxglove to stimulate the heart mixed with ground bezoars to work the poison from the system," Malfoy drawled. He added in a voice only Ginny could hear, "Even a sixth year should have known that."
"Correct!" the medic shouted and made a tick mark under the 'S'. "That's five points for Slytherin. Next question!"
Ginny burned from Malfoy's insult. It was also a challenge, and she couldn't back down this time. She raised her hand quickly and answered the question.
"Correct!" Timmons said, and Gryffindor got a tick mark.
Ginny lost track of the questions, but by the end of the class there were sixteen neatly drawn marks under the 'G', and seven under the 'S'. Malfoy had made all of the Slytherin points, but Ginny had just earned Gryffindor eighty points all by herself!
Medic Timmons smiled as the bell rang. "Very good, class. I'm surprised and impressed. I think for your efforts, we'll save this book for after the holidays, after all! Don't forget, one thousand words on why an understanding of anatomy is important in healing! Due tomorrow! And Miss Weasley, a word, please?"
Ginny waited until everyone was moving toward the door, then made her way to the front of the classroom.
"Eighty points, Miss Weasley, very well done!" Medic Timmons beamed at her as she approached the medi-wizard's desk. Ginny blushed.
"I know it's difficult to be in this class, Miss Weasley," he added gently. "But you are smart and strong. If I didn't feel you were up to it, I would have released you from class months ago. We'll need healers like you in future, you know, so keep up the good work!"
He dismissed her and Ginny gathered her things to leave. She was so elated, she actually forgot about Malfoy. Eighty points! She'd never earned more than five or ten points a year by herself before. Just wait until she told Ariel! Ginny was hurrying down the hallway toward her next class. Since she was a sixth year and in a different House than her fellow Healing students, her other classes were usually nowhere near the seventh year Slytherins. She could hear them heading toward their next class and was glad her class took her in the opposite direction. She hurried down the deserted hallway, barely noting where she was going. Suddenly, she was yanked into a dark side corridor and shoved, face first, against the rough wall.
Ginny's gasped with pain as her face struck the wall. She could feel the rough stone scraping and cutting her cheek. She couldn't move, though, not even enough to see who was holding her. Whoever had pulled her in here was still jamming her against the wall. She felt a painful pressure in her shoulder as her assailant twisted her arm behind her and leaned against it. A strong arm was laid across the back of her neck, making her face scrape against the rough stones again. Then she heard the silky, sneering voice hissing in her ear.
"Think you're soooo smart, do you, Weasley?" Draco Malfoy's voice dripped with contempt. "You made me look a fool. Now, I'm going to make you very sorry you were born."
Ginny was sick with fright. This passageway was deserted and there were no more classes scheduled up here until after lunch. The chances of anyone happening along to rescue her were slim.
"Nothing to say, Weasley?" Malfoy sneered, twisting her wrist up higher and forcing it almost to her shoulder blades. "You had plenty to say in class, though, didn't you? You would have done better to keep your mouth shut, little weasel. But now you can get as loud as you want. No one will hear you! And maybe," the sneering, smooth voice dropped a bit lower, almost caressingly, "if you beg enough, I won't hurt you too much!"
Ginny had been about to cry out in pain, but Malfoy's words blazed into her brain, making her blood boil. She hadn't done anything to him! He'd started it all with his stupid insult! She would die before she let him see how much she was hurting! Instead, she gritted her teeth and forced out one word.
"Coward!" she hissed at him. The pressure in her shoulder became excruciating as he leaned in harder.
"What did you just call me?" he hissed back, right in her ear.
"You're-a-coward-Draco-Malfoy!" Ginny had to force the words out separately to keep from screaming them.
Malfoy dragged her away from the wall. Ginny steeled herself, expecting him to slam her into the wall again. Instead, he spun her around, and shoved her back against the wall. He gripped her throat with both hands and pressed his thumbs against her windpipe.
"You conceited bitch," he hissed at her, moving closer. His face, contorted with rage, was inches from hers. "Do you think you can get away with calling me that? I should just strangle you right now and do the world a favor." He gradually tightened his grip on her throat, watching her face as though waiting for her reaction.
Ginny felt like he was strangling her. She grabbed at his hands, and although she could barely breathe, she forced her words through the agonized burning in her throat.
"Must be proud, Malfoy! So brave and strong! Beating up a girl half your size!" The words were choked, but clear enough for Malfoy to understand.
Bitch!" he hissed again, and raised his left hand.
Ginny saw his raised hand and acted with desperate panic. With her last strength, she brought her knee up forcefully. The impact with Malfoy's groin was so hard Ginny thought she felt his pubic bones strike her kneecap. She had the grim satisfaction of seeing Malfoy's eyes widen in surprise and shock before it settled into a mask of pain. He backed away, hands cupping his genital area, then doubled over. Ginny leaned back against the wall, dragging in breath after painful breath, watching in horrified fascination. Malfoy fell bonelessly to the cold tiles, still cupping himself and groaning in agony. Ginny cautiously bent to gather her book bag from where it had fallen but jumped back in alarm when Malfoy snaked an arm out toward her. His hand locked around her ankle. Ginny tried to pull away, but couldn't. Even in his agony, he was horribly strong. Finally, frantic, she sat clumsily and kicked awkwardly at his arm. Her foot connected with surprising force and she heard the sickening double snap as his wrist broke. He finally let go, now trying to cradle his wrist as well as his injured groin. Ginny scooted away, shoving her bag behind her as she pushed herself into the main hallway. She stared at Malfoy for another moment, her mind already telling her what a horrible thing she'd done. She looked desperately up and down the hall, wondering if she should get help. Then his eyes opened and Ginny gasped at the intensity of his glare
"Not-over-yet-Weasley," he gritted out, and then closed his eyes.
Ginny grabbed her bag and fled.
Thankfully, the girls' bathroom on this floor was empty. Ginny stumbled in and, after fumbling with the lock for a second, stood back to the door for several moments. Pulling out her wand and keeping it handy, she finally moved to the row of sinks and mirrors along the wall. She cringed at what she saw. The entire left side of her face was a patchwork of scrapes, tears and bruises. She trembled, remembering how murderous Malfoy had looked. She hadn't suspected that even Malfoy could be so brutal. If she hadn't kicked him, he would have beaten her. That is, if he hadn't strangled her to death. With shaky hands, Ginny splashed water on her face and assessed the damage again. Now that it was over, it didn't hurt very much. She figured that was because she still had gallons of adrenalin pumping through her system. Her shoulder and throat, however, were another matter. She wondered if Malfoy had dislocated something when he'd forced her arm behind her.
Ginny lifted her wand toward her face, and had to bite back a cry of pain. Even lifting her wand arm was agonizing. She took a deep breath and released it slowly. Then she studied her face again. If Ron saw any of this, he would kill Malfoy. Not just bluster and shout, but outright kill him. Ginny thought grimly that perhaps that mightn't be so bad, but having Ron in Azkaban for murder would be. She gently tapped the left cheek and whispered a healing spell, her throat in agony as she uttered the words. The cuts closed, the scrapes mended and the bruising faded. The pain lingered a bit, but would soon be gone.
"That wasn't so bad, then, right?" she asked the frightened girl in the mirror. Then she spun to the toilet, and violently threw up.
Ginny Weasley sat with a few other sixth year students at one of the tables against the wall. The others were watching, fascinated, as Ginny demonstrated a skill she'd picked up from Fred and George when she'd worked in their joke shop over the summer holiday.
"Go on, Gin," Colin said, holding up his ever-present camera. "Once more, so I can show Mum and Dad!"
Ginny pushed back a lock of the shoulder length red hair that curled about her face and grinned. "All right, Colin, just once more, but I don't know how well it will show up on film."
Ginny dipped her quill in her inkbottle and looked around at the other students. She handed the quill to her best friend, Ariel Johnson.
"Come on, Ari, I haven't done yours yet," Ginny said coaxingly.
The tall black girl looked dubiously at the quill. "You know I don't like-- -," Ariel began. Ginny cut her off.
"Lord, Ari, do you think I'm going to forge love letters in your name?"
The other students urged her on, and Ariel finally agreed. "What should I write?" she asked.
"Anything," Ginny answered. "Just as long as it's a good sample of your writing."
Ariel thought for a moment, then wrote: Have a Happy Christmas and a Joyous New Year.
She handed the parchment she'd written on and the quill to Ginny. Ginny studied the writing for a moment, re-inked the quill, and started just below Ariel's message.
Have a Happy Christmas and a Joyous New Year, she wrote in a perfect imitation of Ariel's writing. Colin snapped several pictures and the others applauded. Ariel looked thoughtful, but didn't say anything.
"Well, that's it," Ginny said, scooting her chair back and standing. Colin put his camera down and picked up the parchment.
"I have got to get a video camera!" he said, then remembered that some Muggle technology didn't work on the Hogwarts ground. At least according to Hermione Granger and Hogwarts; a History. He absently folded the parchment, but Ginny snatched it from his hand. She studied the several different messages and her perfect imitation of the various hands. Grinning at Colin, she crumpled the parchment into a ball.
"Can't leave the evidence lying around, now, can I?"
She walked to the fire and tossed the ball of parchment in, watching the flames devour it. It was something Fred and George had drilled into her when they'd taught her this particular little trick. Always get rid of the evidence. Ginny frowned, then shrugged. She wasn't hurting anyone, and she wouldn't think of actually forging anything real. It was nothing more than a cheap parlor trick she used to pass time and not think. She turned back to where Ariel was waiting for her and the two girls headed up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.
"How DO you do that, Ginny," Ariel asked when they were alone.
Ginny shrugged again. "Dunno, Fred just showed me what to do, and I did it. Ron tried, too, but he couldn't get the hang of it." Ginny gave her friend a weak smile. "It's just in fun, Ari. You know I'd never really use it for anything. Just a way to pass time."
Ariel shook her head, thinking her friend sounded preoccupied. She considered asking her what was bothering her. Then she changed her mind. Gin would tell her when she was ready. "You staying for the holidays, then?" she asked mildly.
"Yeah," Ginny said without enthusiasm. "Bill's wife had her baby last week and Mum and Dad are going to spend the holidays with them. So Ron and I are stuck here."
They entered the small room they had shared for the last five and a half years. Ginny wandered over to Ariel's bed and sat in the middle of the mattress. She picked up the picture of Ariel and her sister Angelina, courtesy of Colin. Ariel was mugging and making faces, and Angelina, in her Gryffindor Quidditch robes, was rolling her eyes.
"So how is Angelina doing? Does she like playing for the Holyfield Harpies?" Ginny wished she were as good a chaser as Angelina had been. Then maybe she would also be scouted for a professional Quidditch team.
"She loves it, except that it's just women on their team. She misses playing with men."
Ginny looked up suddenly and met Ariel's eyes. Both girls broke into loud laughter when they realized what Ariel had said. Ariel recovered first and wiped her eyes.
"I didn't mean it THAT way, Gin. You're just perverted!"
"Hey, you started laughing first!" Ginny accused. That set them off again. After they had their laugh, Ginny set the picture down and moved to her own bed. After washing up, brushing her teeth and changing into her pajamas, Ginny crawled into her bed. Ariel extinguished the lights in the room.
"Are you sure you don't want to stay with us for the holidays, Gin," Ariel asked.
Ginny pulled the blankets up to her chin. Ariel and Angelina, along with their older brother Anthony and his wife and kids would be crowding into the Johnson home. She would love to stay, especially since it would get her out of Hogwarts for a while, but she would feel like an intruder. Besides, she'd checked the list of those staying and Draco Malfoy's name had not been on it. That was a relief. He had been worse than usual lately.
"Thanks, Ari, I really appreciate the offer. But I think I'll keep Ron company. Besides, it will be two weeks without trying to avoid Malfoy. And right now, I could really use that."
"All right, Ginny, but we still have a few days, so if you change your mind, just let me know, 'kay?"
Ginny smiled and thanked all the fates that she had such a good friend. "Okay. G'night, Ari."
"And, Ginny?"
"Mmmm?" came the sleepy reply.
"If you ever need to, you know, talk?" She left the words hanging.
Ginny wondered if her preoccupation with Malfoy and the hard time he'd been giving her lately was that obvious. Finally she said with affection, "I know, Ari. And I appreciate it. G'night."
Ariel sighed. "Good night, Gin."
Ginny approached her magical healing class the next day with a feeling of foreboding. She'd had a bad feeling all morning and it seemed to be focused on this class. An average student in most areas of study, Ginny had found that she had an extraordinary talent for healing. So much so, that she was rapidly advanced through her own year studies and was placed in a seventh year class. Unfortunately, her schedule was so tight with the other required classes that she had been placed in the Slytherin seventh year healing class. If the headmaster hadn't made the subject a required class for all fifth years and up, she would have dropped it. She even tried to argue that she had already finished the course work for her current year. But her arguments fell on deaf ears. Even her own Head of House, Professor McGonagall, had brushed off her concerns.
"You, Miss Weasley, will be expected to set an example for the other students. Remember that you are a Weasley and a Gryffindor," the Transfiguration instructor had admonished in her stern voice. Then she had relented a bit. "Besides, Miss Weasley," she'd added. "I needn't tell you that with the rise of He Who Must Not Be Named, we will need all our healers trained to their fullest capabilities."
Ginny had understood, but she couldn't help wondering bitterly at the time what kind of example she was supposed to set? How to be the perfect scapegoat for arrogant, sodding gits who hated poor, smart Gryffindors? Of course none of the Slytherins had liked her being in the class, but Draco Malfoy had seemed to take it as a personal affront. She knew he had complained to Professor Snape, who had made it his mission to make her life hell in Potions. Not only did she have to put up with Malfoy's abuse in the hallways and classroom, but Professor Snape now made snide remarks about her in her Potions class, as well.
Ginny took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling the tension knotting up in her shoulders. She loved the class, but hated coming here every day. Come on, Ginny, she told herself. Two more days, and Malfoy will be gone for the holidays! Two blessed Malfoy-free weeks! Ginny straightened her shoulders and opened the door to her Healing classroom. She could make it through two more days. Besides, how much worse could it get?
Ginny had cause to remember those words. It could get a lot worse. Class had been going along fine. Being so close to the end of the term, they were doing mostly review work and the instructor, a former medi-wizard for the Falmouth Falcons Quidditch team, wasn't asking many questions. Those he did ask were simple enough for even Gregory Goyle to answer. But toward the end of class he had pulled out a different book and held it up. Ginny recognized it as one she had been reading occasionally in the library. It contained treatments for wounds caused by dark magic. It had been on the list of texts they would need to study from, but wasn't scheduled until the next term. Ginny's feeling of foreboding became more pronounced.
"I realize we weren't planning to use this text until next term," Medic Timmons said in his light mellow voice. "But have any of you taken the time to look it over yet?"
Unlike Hermione Granger, Ginny seldom volunteered to answer questions, and almost never did so in this class. She kept her hands firmly on the table.
Medic Timmons frowned at the class. No hands were raised. "Come, now," he cajoled. "Surely some of you have at least flipped through the pages?"
The Slytherins moved uneasily in their seats, trying to avoid his direct, questioning glance. Ginny found her chipped nail polish suddenly very interesting.
"No one was the least curious about healing dark magic wounds?" the medic asked, disbelieving. "Miss Weasley, I'm sure I saw you leafing through this book in the library, just last week."
Ginny's face turned red. She could feel the hostile stares from the other students, and an especially malevolent feeling was coming from where Malfoy sat behind her. She looked up at the instructor and said in a shaky voice, "I suppose, uh, that, uh I might have glanced through it, sir."
The snicker from behind her made Ginny's blood boil. "She supposes she might have looked," she heard Malfoy sneer quietly. "Of course, being a stupid little weasel, she wouldn't be sure about it."
Ginny's face burned when she heard the sniggers from Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini. She wanted to turn around and slap his face, but knew she didn't have the courage for it. She didn't care about the points it might cost Gryffindor, she just once longed to be able to put the arrogant bastard in his place.
Medic Timmons had apparently heard Malfoy's comment, too. His eyes narrowed and he strode toward Malfoy's desk.
"My, my, you certainly have a lot to say, Mr. Malfoy," the medic said in a smooth voice. "Why don't you tell the class what pearls of knowledge you've gleaned from this text? I'll assume that since you were making comments to Miss Weasley, you were discussing your common studies, and not, as it seemed, using MY class time to carry out your personal feud. I am right, am I not?"
Ginny smiled slightly. She would have turned to smirk at Malfoy, but she wasn't an idiot. If the instructor chose to single him out for a reprimand, that was great, but she wouldn't give him any reason to take it out on her. Her smile froze, though, when Medic Timmons continued.
"Nothing useful to add, Mr. Malfoy? Well, then," he said musingly, "I think I'll have a little contest." He returned to the front of the classroom and erased the notes from the chalkboard. He then wrote a large letter 'G' and a large letter 'S'.
"This will be an easy way for you to earn points for your house," he informed them with a hard smile.
"I'm going to ask questions from this book," he said, indicating the text in question. He held up his hands for quiet as the students started protesting. "Read your course list again," he said firmly. "This text is not scheduled until after the holidays, but it was made clear that if you were ahead of schedule, we would use it this term."
Ignoring the groans from the class, he continued. "I will try to keep the questions to the more simple and common sense, but for every correct answer, I will award your house five points. Keep two things in mind. First, this seems like an excellent opportunity for those of you in Slytherin to earn more points than Gryffindor, as there are eight of you and only one Gryffindor. And second," his eyes became as hard as his smile and he looked directly over Ginny's head. "Second," he repeated, "you have Mr. Malfoy to thank for this little contest. I will not tolerate students abusing one another in my classes."
Ginny's heart sank as she heard the hisses and comments the Slytherins directed toward Malfoy. He had been publicly dressed down by a teacher, and would, of course, blame her.
Medic Timmons flipped through the pages, then paused. "First question: What is the antidote for the 'Draught of Living Death'?"
Ginny was torn. She knew the answer, and wanted to earn points for Gryffindor, but it was hard enough being in this class without showing up the Slytherins. Suddenly, Medic Timmons said, "Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"
"An infusion of foxglove to stimulate the heart mixed with ground bezoars to work the poison from the system," Malfoy drawled. He added in a voice only Ginny could hear, "Even a sixth year should have known that."
"Correct!" the medic shouted and made a tick mark under the 'S'. "That's five points for Slytherin. Next question!"
Ginny burned from Malfoy's insult. It was also a challenge, and she couldn't back down this time. She raised her hand quickly and answered the question.
"Correct!" Timmons said, and Gryffindor got a tick mark.
Ginny lost track of the questions, but by the end of the class there were sixteen neatly drawn marks under the 'G', and seven under the 'S'. Malfoy had made all of the Slytherin points, but Ginny had just earned Gryffindor eighty points all by herself!
Medic Timmons smiled as the bell rang. "Very good, class. I'm surprised and impressed. I think for your efforts, we'll save this book for after the holidays, after all! Don't forget, one thousand words on why an understanding of anatomy is important in healing! Due tomorrow! And Miss Weasley, a word, please?"
Ginny waited until everyone was moving toward the door, then made her way to the front of the classroom.
"Eighty points, Miss Weasley, very well done!" Medic Timmons beamed at her as she approached the medi-wizard's desk. Ginny blushed.
"I know it's difficult to be in this class, Miss Weasley," he added gently. "But you are smart and strong. If I didn't feel you were up to it, I would have released you from class months ago. We'll need healers like you in future, you know, so keep up the good work!"
He dismissed her and Ginny gathered her things to leave. She was so elated, she actually forgot about Malfoy. Eighty points! She'd never earned more than five or ten points a year by herself before. Just wait until she told Ariel! Ginny was hurrying down the hallway toward her next class. Since she was a sixth year and in a different House than her fellow Healing students, her other classes were usually nowhere near the seventh year Slytherins. She could hear them heading toward their next class and was glad her class took her in the opposite direction. She hurried down the deserted hallway, barely noting where she was going. Suddenly, she was yanked into a dark side corridor and shoved, face first, against the rough wall.
Ginny's gasped with pain as her face struck the wall. She could feel the rough stone scraping and cutting her cheek. She couldn't move, though, not even enough to see who was holding her. Whoever had pulled her in here was still jamming her against the wall. She felt a painful pressure in her shoulder as her assailant twisted her arm behind her and leaned against it. A strong arm was laid across the back of her neck, making her face scrape against the rough stones again. Then she heard the silky, sneering voice hissing in her ear.
"Think you're soooo smart, do you, Weasley?" Draco Malfoy's voice dripped with contempt. "You made me look a fool. Now, I'm going to make you very sorry you were born."
Ginny was sick with fright. This passageway was deserted and there were no more classes scheduled up here until after lunch. The chances of anyone happening along to rescue her were slim.
"Nothing to say, Weasley?" Malfoy sneered, twisting her wrist up higher and forcing it almost to her shoulder blades. "You had plenty to say in class, though, didn't you? You would have done better to keep your mouth shut, little weasel. But now you can get as loud as you want. No one will hear you! And maybe," the sneering, smooth voice dropped a bit lower, almost caressingly, "if you beg enough, I won't hurt you too much!"
Ginny had been about to cry out in pain, but Malfoy's words blazed into her brain, making her blood boil. She hadn't done anything to him! He'd started it all with his stupid insult! She would die before she let him see how much she was hurting! Instead, she gritted her teeth and forced out one word.
"Coward!" she hissed at him. The pressure in her shoulder became excruciating as he leaned in harder.
"What did you just call me?" he hissed back, right in her ear.
"You're-a-coward-Draco-Malfoy!" Ginny had to force the words out separately to keep from screaming them.
Malfoy dragged her away from the wall. Ginny steeled herself, expecting him to slam her into the wall again. Instead, he spun her around, and shoved her back against the wall. He gripped her throat with both hands and pressed his thumbs against her windpipe.
"You conceited bitch," he hissed at her, moving closer. His face, contorted with rage, was inches from hers. "Do you think you can get away with calling me that? I should just strangle you right now and do the world a favor." He gradually tightened his grip on her throat, watching her face as though waiting for her reaction.
Ginny felt like he was strangling her. She grabbed at his hands, and although she could barely breathe, she forced her words through the agonized burning in her throat.
"Must be proud, Malfoy! So brave and strong! Beating up a girl half your size!" The words were choked, but clear enough for Malfoy to understand.
Bitch!" he hissed again, and raised his left hand.
Ginny saw his raised hand and acted with desperate panic. With her last strength, she brought her knee up forcefully. The impact with Malfoy's groin was so hard Ginny thought she felt his pubic bones strike her kneecap. She had the grim satisfaction of seeing Malfoy's eyes widen in surprise and shock before it settled into a mask of pain. He backed away, hands cupping his genital area, then doubled over. Ginny leaned back against the wall, dragging in breath after painful breath, watching in horrified fascination. Malfoy fell bonelessly to the cold tiles, still cupping himself and groaning in agony. Ginny cautiously bent to gather her book bag from where it had fallen but jumped back in alarm when Malfoy snaked an arm out toward her. His hand locked around her ankle. Ginny tried to pull away, but couldn't. Even in his agony, he was horribly strong. Finally, frantic, she sat clumsily and kicked awkwardly at his arm. Her foot connected with surprising force and she heard the sickening double snap as his wrist broke. He finally let go, now trying to cradle his wrist as well as his injured groin. Ginny scooted away, shoving her bag behind her as she pushed herself into the main hallway. She stared at Malfoy for another moment, her mind already telling her what a horrible thing she'd done. She looked desperately up and down the hall, wondering if she should get help. Then his eyes opened and Ginny gasped at the intensity of his glare
"Not-over-yet-Weasley," he gritted out, and then closed his eyes.
Ginny grabbed her bag and fled.
Thankfully, the girls' bathroom on this floor was empty. Ginny stumbled in and, after fumbling with the lock for a second, stood back to the door for several moments. Pulling out her wand and keeping it handy, she finally moved to the row of sinks and mirrors along the wall. She cringed at what she saw. The entire left side of her face was a patchwork of scrapes, tears and bruises. She trembled, remembering how murderous Malfoy had looked. She hadn't suspected that even Malfoy could be so brutal. If she hadn't kicked him, he would have beaten her. That is, if he hadn't strangled her to death. With shaky hands, Ginny splashed water on her face and assessed the damage again. Now that it was over, it didn't hurt very much. She figured that was because she still had gallons of adrenalin pumping through her system. Her shoulder and throat, however, were another matter. She wondered if Malfoy had dislocated something when he'd forced her arm behind her.
Ginny lifted her wand toward her face, and had to bite back a cry of pain. Even lifting her wand arm was agonizing. She took a deep breath and released it slowly. Then she studied her face again. If Ron saw any of this, he would kill Malfoy. Not just bluster and shout, but outright kill him. Ginny thought grimly that perhaps that mightn't be so bad, but having Ron in Azkaban for murder would be. She gently tapped the left cheek and whispered a healing spell, her throat in agony as she uttered the words. The cuts closed, the scrapes mended and the bruising faded. The pain lingered a bit, but would soon be gone.
"That wasn't so bad, then, right?" she asked the frightened girl in the mirror. Then she spun to the toilet, and violently threw up.