Disclaimer: All the same legal stuff applies.
Author's Note: I dedicate this chapter to my cat Samuel L. Jackson. The best pet anyone could ever wish for. Now that I'm on a school schedule again, my least busy day looks like Friday. So you can expect regular updates on or around then.
Reviewers: Linda: thank you for your always gracious praise. Thank your uncle for reading as well. I am very gratified to know that my work is comparable in anyway to the great Rowling.
Oliverwoodsgirl: Thanks for sticking by me kid. You are one of my vintage reviewers and always have a piece of encouragement to throw my way. You're tops.
Hibiscus: Thanks for giving me the time. I can't wait for your reaction later on in the story (as I have some pretty sorry attempts at courtroom drama for you to snigger at). Your dedication to my piece of fiction is well appreciated.
Kim The Manipaltive Little Mo: My hopes are that this and many other chapters to come far surpass the last one. Thank you for the exuberant praise. You flatter a self-conscious writer.
Paranoidchick 13: Your thoughts on Imogen and Ruthie are pretty right on. You are an astute reader. I hope that there are still some twists and turns that stump you (hopefully). I can't promise to stop the angst. It's the entire feel of my third story. But hang in there, you might find some resolve.
Chapter Five
Later
"I never thought you were a fool
But darling look at you
You gotta stand up straight
Carry your own weight
These tears are going nowhere baby
You've got to get yourself together
You've got stuck in a moment
And now you can't get out of it
Don't say that later will be better
Now you're stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it…"
U2: 'Stuck In A Moment'
Harry, Ron and Hermione walked silently back to Transfiguration class with Fang trailing just as quietly behind them.
As they came through the door, Professor McGonagall was collecting pineapples from her students. Harry wondered mildly what they had missed.
Ron seemed relieved that he'd missed class altogether and Hermione fretted over the notes she would have to get from someone.
As McGonagall looked up and noted their entrance, she asked Ron to stay after.
"Great. What could I have done? I haven't even been here for five minutes," Ron whispered to them.
"We'll wait for you outside," Hermione said as she turned and exited the classroom.
"Come on, Fang," Harry said dully, following her out.
They weren't waiting for long.
Ron crashed through the door in a fury after a few minutes' conference with the Transfiguration teacher, red in the face and glaring pointedly at Harry.
"Well?" he said sharply, folding his arms in front of him.
"Well?" Harry repeated impatiently, scraping the sword of Gryffindor carelessly along the flagstone floor.
"When were you going to tell me?" Ron raged at an impassive Harry as Fang and Hermione looked confusedly between the two.
"Oh yeah," Harry said mechanically, "Ron, I quit the team."
Ron was fuming even more at Harry's casual and uninterested air. This was his life. He lived for Quidditch.
"Oh yeah, I quit the team?" Ron spat back angrily. "Anything else you might be leaving out, Potter?"
"Er," he said, pretending to recall his meeting with McGonagall with some effort, though it was only a week ago and he remembered it perfectly. He was deliberately enraging Ron and he couldn't say why he was doing it. Chalk it up to his newly adopted self-destructive attitude. He didn't care if Ron was mad. That was his decision and he had already made it.
"I turned down the Captain's position?" He said it as if he were guessing.
"Yes, you did," Ron said.
Harry blinked, still doodling with his sword on the stone, "So, did she offer it to you, or what?"
Ron was visibly angered by this. He turned a few shades redder and took a deep breath to calm himself.
"What do you think?" he asked, moving threateningly closer. Harry didn't move, didn't flinch.
"I think she did. And I think you accepted," Harry said dully, "Congratulations, Ron."
Ron couldn't control his fuming any longer and so turned on his heel and walked away, disappearing around the corner in the direction of the Great Hall.
"Are you certain about this, Harry?" Hermione asked timidly.
"No," Harry replied simply, "Are you going upstairs?"
"Yes. And then to the Library."
"Take this up with you?" he asked handing her the sword, which she hefted with minor difficulty.
"Where are you going?" she asked and was going to add that he shouldn't miss lunch but he cut her off.
"Out," he answered cryptically. "Just throw it any where by my stuff. I don't care," he added regarding his sword. "Come on, Fang," he said, ruffling the fur between the dog's ears.
They left Hermione staring after them and disappeared out of the great oak doors at the entrance and into the sunlight of late September.
***
"You walked out." It was a statement—and not an entirely surprised one at that.
Imogen shook her head.
"Yes. I walked out," Draco said flatly, "Do you have anything new to add to the conversation or are you just going to sit there and repeat me?"
Imogen said nothing, simply shaking her head as if he was a disappointment to her.
"I don't want to listen to people I hate explaining away my sister's death," he added crossing his left leg over his right, resting his ankle on the opposite knee.
Imogen stood and moved to stand in front of him, enraged by his casual tone.
She waited for Pansy Parkinson to slowly cross the common room and reluctantly head up the stairs to the girls' dorms. She stared at the pug-nosed seventh year in open dislike. She knew Pansy's curiosity would cause problems in the future with regard to Draco.
She was still living under the delusions that they shared some fictitious romantic interests.
Pansy disappeared.
Without warning Imogen's foot connected hard with Draco's shin, causing him to yelp in pain.
"You don't hate them and they're not responsible for Lucy's death!" She bellowed this, caring not if Pansy were still eavesdropping. She glared at Draco as he endeavored to form a reply, hands on her hips she looked funnily like a wannabe comic book super hero.
"What the hell do you know about it, Spencer?" he asked after a moment, massaging his shin with a furrowed brow.
"You're being stupid. That's what I know about it. You know it wasn't Harry's fault and you know it wasn't Ginny's." She wanted so much to admit that it was in fact her fault. But that would cause a whole other batch of problems that she thought might wait for another day.
"Ginny gave her away to save herself," Draco began to protest.
"You don't know that, Draco."
"She's never denied it."
"Did you ever give her the chance to?" Imogen said with a defiant raise of her eyebrows. She stood in silence for a moment waiting for his reply that didn't come.
He wouldn't look at her.
"My point exactly." She collected her books from the sofa. "If you're looking for someone to blame, blame yourself and leave Ginny alone. She doesn't deserve all of your crap right now."
She left the conversation at that and moved to leave the room.
"Where are you going?" Draco asked, standing and shoving his hands into his pockets.
"Don't talk to me. I'm mad at you and you've put me in a bad mood. I have to get to class now." She disappeared through the common room entrance.
Draco scowled indignantly.
It wasn't often that he was put in his place. But Imogen had given him a lot to think on.
He sat silently back down and stared into the glowing embers of the dying fire.
He came to the unpleasant realization that he would have to talk to Ginny sometime and determined that sooner was better than later.
***
"That's my tree stump," Harry said as he followed Fang down to the lake's edge.
Ginny was sitting there lost in a thought.
She looked up to see Harry and then eyed the tree stump that she sat on. "Did I miss that brass name plate that reserves this stump for you exclusively? I am terribly sorry," she answered sarcastically.
He sat down on the grass next to her as Fang began to explore the water's edge.
"Dumbledore gave him to you?" she asked, smiling as the dog endeavored to trap some unsuspecting tadpoles.
"Yeah. He said Hagrid would want me to take care of him."
Ginny turned to look at Harry. He met her eyes reluctantly. "He adored you, Harry."
"Who? Fang or Hagrid?"
She laughed. "Don't be obtuse. You knew I meant Hagrid." She paused for a moment and became very solemn and sad. "I miss him. He was my very first friend," she admitted quietly.
Harry looked up at her and smiled. "Mine too."
They sat in silence a moment longer.
"I'm sorry about what happened this morning," Harry began, diverting his eyes to the lake and Fang splashing wildly in it.
"For what, Harry?" was Ginny's puzzled reply.
"He won't forgive you and I know it hurts," he paused for what seemed like an eternity. Ginny stared at the side of his face, as he wouldn't turn his head to meet her stare. He seemed to be debating something mentally. "He should be angry with me, not you. He asked me to watch out for her and I let them take her."
Ginny shook her head. It didn't make any sense. He could not possibly think that Lucy's death should lie solely on his shoulders. If she hadn't been so weak, if she had only lasted a little longer, if only…
Well, postulating the 'if only's' wouldn't bring her back. It wouldn't give them any reprieve and it wouldn't stop Draco from hurting. It did no good.
"That wasn't your fault either," Ginny said in a half whisper. She reached down and took his hand.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, Ginny. After I promised I would be a good friend—," he began again.
"Oh, Harry. You're one of my best friends. You were there for me. And you're here now. Doesn't that prove anything?" She leaned over and kissed his hand that rested in hers.
He looked up at her. "He doesn't deserve you."
She smiled. "And I don't deserve you." She looked away across the lake. "You deserved way better. Did you love her?" she asked tentatively.
Harry shook his head uncertainly, squinting in the early afternoon sun. "Ron and Hermione have loved each other since they were at least twelve years old. Their relationship was built from years of friendship. I used to think that that was the only logical way that anyone could be certain that they loved someone.
The waiting room was stuffy and I felt tense and jumpy waiting for the doctor to tell us that you would be all right. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and I got up, looking for someplace to be alone—someplace that I could just zone out in and stare off at nothing in particular.
She was there in the cafeteria, causing some sort of scene with her house elf." He smiled at the remembrance.
Ginny laughed through tears that fell despite herself and she urged Harry to continue.
"I don't think I've ever seen anyone so beautiful. I imagine that heaven is full of people like her. I couldn't stop staring and she told me that it was rude. I think that I must have offended her. But it was her laugh, I think. It was like coming out of a deep and depressing indigo into sunrise. Without warning, it hit me. I loved her in that moment, I think."
Ginny felt warm tears chasing themselves down her cheeks and she smiled through them.
Harry had never been poetic, but always honest and candid—that was what moved her.
Her heart broke with the realization that he had lost his only love.
He remained stoic and unmoving, though his hand was clasped firmly in hers. "I don't think you have to have known someone nearly all your life to know everything about them. I know she's never hated anyone and that she would give her life for someone she loved. It didn't even bother me when I found out minutes later that she was Lucius Malfoy's daughter. Nothing else mattered."
He shrugged and stood.
"And I let her die. I don't know what keeps me from jumping over the edge—the fact maybe she'll come back to me. Impossible, I know." He looked down at his feet and rent a wildflower to pieces with the tip of his shoe. "Maybe I continue to live because it's a greater torture than dying."
"Oh, don't say that, Harry," Ginny pleaded, wiping the tears from her face with the sleeve of her black school robes.
He made no reply, but squeezed her hand and then dropped it.
He turned and shouted to Fang in the water. "Come on, Fang. We've got to get to class."
Ginny watched the two of them go. It was possibly the heaviest her heart had ever felt. It put her own problems and conflicts into stark perspective.
***
Two days later Ron was still fuming.
Hermione had left off playing devil's advocate as he would just explode at her and say that she was taking Harry's side with everything.
Now she had taken to ignoring him as he sat at the end of her bed ranting. She had told him several times that she needed to complete the reading for her Arithmancy lecture tomorrow, but his problems were always more important.
"And it was only offered to me after he had turned it down," Ron huffed.
Hermione had the fleeting thought that having her own room was a blessing. Head Girl perk. At least she was the only one Ron was disturbing.
She shut her book with an audible crack. She folded her legs under her on the bed and prepared herself for another long debate about Harry's motives and intentions.
"So what really upsets you is the fact that you weren't asked to Captain the team first?" she asked calmly.
"No, that's not what I—," Ron's attention was drawn momentarily from their discussion to the floor by the bed. "Are they hurting each other, do you think?" he asked in an unsure tone.
Hermione leaned over the side of the bed where she saw Crookshanks' head in Fang's mouth. He was spitting loudly as Fang growled playfully. They had been amusing themselves in this way for the past twenty minutes.
"No," Hermione shook her head, "They're just playing." To Crookshanks she added, "You enjoy fighting with Fang, don't you?"
His head protruded from the dog's jowls and his once fluffy orange hair was sticking up in wild spikes gelled with Fang's slobber.
"No, it's just that I'm tired of his attitude," Ron answered, getting back to the point.
"What attitude is that, Ron?" Hermione asked stubbornly, straightening his tie and tucking it back inside of his school robes. She knew he hated the motherly attention, but she couldn't stand his unkempt appearance sometimes.
He didn't protest.
"You mean the attitude he's adopted since he's lost someone important to him and has given up a position that he didn't feel he would be able to perform to the best of his abilities. Instead he was honest enough to hand it over to you, someone he knew would do the best job and has the interest of the team in mind?" She raised an eyebrow defiantly.
He scowled. She was right.
"But now we'll have to find a new Seeker. We can't replace him. He's the best," he continued, his anger waning.
"Have you told him that?"
Ron said nothing.
"Maybe that's just what he needs to hear from his friend instead of the trouble you've been giving him lately."
Ron looked down at his hands guiltily.
"Now get lost and don't bother me anymore. I need to finish my reading," Hermione commanded but diffused it with a smile.
Ron grinned and jumped up from the bed. "Thanks, love."
"Anytime," Hermione said as Ron kissed her forehead.
"Hey Fang, let's go scare some Hufflepuffs," Ron said, beckoning the dog out of the room as Hermione laughed at the pair.
***
Ginny walked down the dark and dripping hallway wishing she knew where she was and also wondering why it was always so desirable for potions labs to be concealed in the secret bowels of some dark place. Wasn't that some sort of a cliché or something?
She was looking for Imogen. Knowing that her interest was in fabricating wild experimental concoctions, she knew it would be easiest if her search began here.
She was urgent to talk to her about her newest idea.
She began to kick the idea around in her head of writing the story of the Founders—the one they never got the chance to tell themselves.
The only problem was that the information and scenes that the Pensieve allowed her to witness were sometimes cryptic or lacking the content that was essential to grasp the full picture.
She began to devise a wild scheme that involved Imogen's full support and expertise. She only hoped that Imogen would cooperate.
A noise behind her startled her and she felt her body stiffen before she laughed at herself. What was she doing? Did she think she was trapped in some cheesy 1930's horror flick?
"Way to overreact, Ginny," she admonished herself.
Then the noise persisted. Footfalls. Several.
She turned around only to be greeted by the sly smiles of Draco's thugs, Crabbe and Goyle.
"Lovely. You could perhaps tell me where Imogen Spencer is," she said with a smile.
The hulking forms of the two Slytherins advanced on her and she backed away instinctively.
"No?" She asked raising an eyebrow, trying to discern their expressions. They both only wore their infernally evil grins. "Do you speak at all?" she asked frustrated.
"You're in Gryffindor," one of them said. She couldn't tell which. It was very dark.
"Yes, and you're in Slytherin," she answered. "Now that the pleasantries are finished, could you tell me—," she added nervously.
"Weasley's sister," the other said. "You're in the same year as Nan Maloney."
"Actually it's Mallory," she corrected, becoming more impatient by the second.
"Whatever. She's a bitch but she's built very nice," one said.
"I'll pass the word along," Ginny said and made an attempt to get around the two.
"Where are you going?" the taller of the two grabbed her by the arm and prevented her passing.
"Really, boys. I have to be going. I'm looking for—."
"Yeah, Spencer. We know."
"She's not bad either," the one commented to the other.
Ginny rolled her eyes.
"Don't you want to stick around and have a decent conversation with a pair of exceptionally handsome guys like us?" one grunted.
"I wouldn't go so far as to say exceptional," she admitted as they came menacingly closer. "But you both have nice personalities," she added hastily.
She heard the approaching sound of footsteps but the other two seemed not to have.
Great, she thought. That would break up this strange little soiree. She had no idea what the two of them were so interested in cornering her for, but it was becoming a little frightening.
"Wait 'till Draco sees what we've fished from the dungeons," one said.
"Yeah, Potter's little girlfriend," the other added.
Aw, now Ginny almost felt sorry for them. Did they think if they caught some unsuspecting student in the hallways for their ex-friend and leader, he would be eternally grateful and take them back as his mindless henchmen and bookends? It was almost sad.
She slowly fished around in her robes pocket for her wand when Draco came around the corner.
Jesus, she thought. Could this situation get any worse?
"Crabbe, Goyle? What are you doing?" she heard him ask as he approached.
The two of them jumped and turned.
He apparently hadn't seen Ginny there. She would rather prefer it that way.
He looked surprised when he did see her behind the two large boys.
"What are you doing with her?" he asked in a monotone.
Crabbe and Goyle exchanged unsure glances with each other and one of them answered.
"We caught her snooping around down here and—."
"We were just having some fun with her. We were going to bring her to you."
Draco laughed at this but quickly recovered himself. "What would I do with her?"
"That's lovely," Ginny interrupted, "I'll just be going now." She moved out from behind the two of them but was caught again by the same bulky hand with a vice grip on her arm. These two were so damned persistent.
"Oh, we thought you would find some sort of amusement with Potter's girlfriend."
Draco snorted unflatteringly with the effort to stifle his laughter. "That's not Potter's girlfriend," he said, "And I don't want her. You're not buying my friendship back at any cost. I'm done with you two."
He looked briefly to Ginny who tried to jerk her arm out of Goyle's grip.
"So let her go," Draco said.
"Do you think you can just order us around like that?" Crabbe said defiantly.
"You're not Head Boy. You're not anything but an embarrassment to Slytherin and to your father."
"You don't know what you're talking about, Goyle. So I suggest you shut up," Draco said with an amused grin as his former friend spouted his mindless dogma. "Let her go," he added simply, removing his wand and leveling it between Goyle's eyes.
"No," Goyle said with a defiant grin, twisting Ginny's arm and causing her to cry out.
She was infuriated to be used as leverage. She kicked hard at his kneecap and heard a satisfying snap. He released her and fell to the ground, cradling his injured leg and groaning. He intermittently swore and called her unflattering names. She marveled at his imagery and vocabulary briefly.
Draco silenced him and took the other out of commission with two well-placed hexes.
As Crabbe joined Goyle on the dungeon floor with an audible thud, Draco asked, "Are you all right?"
Without a word, she turned and walked away down the hall. She didn't wish to be ingratiated to him for anything. And she didn't want his sympathy. She could take care of herself, goddammit!
