Chapter Thirty-One
Toil and Trouble
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A/N: Thanks to B Bennett for watching over the dragons as they were being written, and thanks to the wonderful beta readers of this chapter: B Bennett, Cap'n Kathy, Caroline, CoKerry, Firelocks, and Joe.
~*~
Four month-old Percival Leander Weasley did not seem tired in the slightest, a fact that was very inconvenient to his mother. She shook a rattle in front of him and let him grab for it, hoping to tire him out, but he was indefatigable.
Normally, Penelope wouldn't have minded spending hours entertaining her son, but today was special. Hermione Granger had been appointed by the Ministry of Magic to help her work on the Imprisonment Charm that would surround Culparrat. Penelope had reached a dead end with her own research, and she knew from personal experience that Hermione was a brilliant witch - probably more so, now that she had apprenticed with a Thinker. Penelope told herself not to pin all her hopes on Hermione, but she couldn't help believing that a breakthrough was on the horizon.
Her father-in-law had assigned them a tiny office in a corner of the Ministry of Magic's main building. Penelope had spent the entire previous day trying to make it comfortable for two people, but it had been a real challenge. The office had been a mess of books and files left behind by a clerk who was now in Culparrat, awaiting trial. Ron Weasley had taken the files away for research, which had been a big help, and Penelope had gone in search of unoccupied desks and chairs that were small enough to fit into the room together. In the end she had been forced to shrink two desks and push them against the wall so that there would be enough room to accommodate Leo. Molly Weasley had offered to watch her grandson while Penelope was at work, but that orphan, Max, seemed to be more than a handful; and having Leo nearby made Penelope feel as though Percy was still there, somehow helping her to finish the work that they'd started together.
Penelope sent a colorful mobile to float above Leo's head, and then organized all the papers on her desk for the third time that morning. She doubted whether Hermione would be able to make any sense of them without her detailed explanations.
A soft knock at the door caused her to jump; she rushed to open it and found Hermione.
Hermione looked . tired.
"Good morning!" Penelope said, feeling a bit disappointed that Hermione did not seem to be well rested for their first day at work. "Are you all right?"
Smiling, Hermione reached down to tickle Leo's stomach, and nodded.
"I had a bit of an unplanned incident last night at the Snout's Fair," she said, sounding sheepish. "Ginny helped the headache go away, so I feel fine - I just look awful."
"Nonsense," said Penelope, "you just look tired. But we can start slowly, if you like. I've been working on this for over a year. It's not like another day will make a big difference."
Hermione placed her rucksack on the table and sat down in one of the chairs, turning so that she faced the playpen. She reached into her bag and pulled out a quill, but instead of also retrieving paper and ink, she put the quill on the table, shook her head, and muttered something Penelope couldn't hear.
"Sorry?" Penelope said. She flicked her wand at the mobile, and the butterflies in it took turns flittering down to dance on Leo's head. "Hermione, honestly, it's all right if you'd rather wait until tomorrow." She hoped she didn't sound too disappointed. "I can always find something to do, and - "
"No!" said Hermione. "Really, I'm fine." She had her hands crossed, but her fingers were doing little dances around each other. "I'm - I'm a bit nervous, actually. And I'm supposed to be trying not to write things down as much. The quill is a crutch. Delia says I need to let my mind absorb facts as I learn them, and not depend on re-learning them later."
"Wow." Penelope looked askance at her piles of notes. "I'd never really thought about it before. I just always sort of assumed that it helped to take notes." A half-forgotten memory popped into Penelope's head. "One time, though, Percy and I went to hear Horatio York speak in the Ministry's Grand Hall. He's the wizard who helped regulate the Owl Post System. It was a fascinating speech, and I remember almost every word of it. I didn't take notes there!"
Hermione nodded. "That's what you're supposed to do as a Thinker. Take that feeling and just sort of expand on it a little bit. The theory is that if you are listening to something with all of your concentration, then you'll retain more of it in your long-term memory. But it's so difficult for me!" Hermione threw up her hands in frustration. "I used to take notes even when I was reading for pleasure."
"Well, let's just try talking, then. I like that better anyway. I'll see if I can remember how much I've learned, and it'll feel less like work." Hermione seemed to be grateful for the guidance, and smiled.
Closing her eyes, Penelope tried to work out the best place to begin. She and Percy had started planning this over a year ago. So much had happened since then. Initially, they'd been trying to find an alternative to Dementors. What would be relevant to Hermione? Everything? Nothing?
"If you're trying to decide where to start," Hermione said, her voice sounding lower than usual, "it might be best to first try to explain the problem at hand. Don't worry about where it actually started. Think first about where it is now."
"We need a Dementor-free, magic-proof Imprisonment Charm. We need to keep people inside Culparrat in such a way that they will never be able to get out."
"Never?"
"Not unless they're pardoned."
"So, there needs to be a mechanism inside to allow prisoners to exit. And I suppose guards and the like would have to be able to move in and out."
"Yes," said Penelope. "But it's so difficult and I can't get my head around it all. In Muggle prison systems, they're limited. They have layers of deterrence. They've got iron bars, and locks, and guards, and in most cases, alarms and barbed wire. But all it takes to get a prisoner out of the compound is one guard or one official who knows the right codes. If a Muggle murderer escapes from prison, he can do harm in the world, but the implications are not nearly as serious as if a powerful Dark wizard escapes and gets hold of a wand."
Hermione had started to draw circles on the table with her fingers. She caught herself and stopped, placing her hands back in her lap. "Well, what layers do we have?"
"Obviously, we destroy their wands. That's the first order of business. The problem is that magic can be so unpredictable that there have been cases of wizards willing themselves out of prison in the past. There are a few types of wandless magic that can be performed by wizards as well - Animagi transformations, to take the most famous example."
"So," said Hermione, ticking things off with her fingers. "They have no wands. That's a minor deterrence. We're trying to avoid any sort of psychological manipulation of the type that was caused by the Dementors, so we have to assume that all prisoners will be in their right minds."
Penelope snorted. "As right as a murdering Death Eater can be in his mind."
"We do need to think about guards," said Hermione. "No matter what system is created and no matter how awful the crimes of the prisoners, they'll have to be fed and bathed and watched. And they have to be guards that are resistant to bribery and fiercely loyal to justice."
"That was one of the first things Percy and I thought about," said Penelope, surprised at how much she was remembering without the aid of her notes. "We started this whole project because of Fudge's insistence that Percy find an alternative guard solution to Dementors. But we couldn't find any group of creatures or special wizards that could handle it alone. The more powerful creatures, like the giants, have a history of inconsistency intermingling with wizards. Wizards tried to employ them in China in very early times, and the giants just sort of lost it one day and destroyed the prisons. Werewolves who are wizards have a history of loyalty to wizards in the rare times that they're accepted into society, but there's the issue of the days preceding and following the full moon. Also, we found that there are fewer and fewer werewolves in the wizarding world, due to Defense Against the Dark Arts education. Which is wonderful - we wouldn't want to inflict that on anyone unnecessarily." Penelope shivered as she thought of kind-hearted, gentle Professor Lupin.
"Percy had suggested using something like a Pogrebin," Penelope continued. "Do you know what that is?"
Hermione recited, "A Pogrebin is a Russian demon that affects people's minds. It can overcome people with a feeling of lethargy and despair, and force them into extended crying fits and feelings of futility. But -" Hermione looked confused "- they eat people, don't they?"
"Yes, they do," Penelope said, laughing. "But there are ways to stop them from doing that. You can feed them other things."
"Oh, good," said Hermione. "Although making the prisoners feel awful is exactly what we're trying to get away from. That's why they don't want to keep them Stunned."
Privately, Penelope didn't think Stunning was too bad of a punishment for someone who had murdered others. More than once, especially while pregnant, she'd had fantasies about breaking into Azkaban and torturing all of the Death Eaters there. It never made her feel better, because it still didn't seem like a big enough punishment for those who had been responsible for her husband's death. "We don't want to coddle them," she said.
"True." said Hermione, "but we also can't count on future generations being as fair in judgment as our current Ministry. There's always the possibility of innocents ending up in Culparrat, just as they did in Azkaban."
"Yes, I suppose," Penelope said. Usually, she found that she couldn't feel too worked up about that possibility. But then, every time she saw or spoke with Sirius Black, she was reminded of his story, and felt a renewed drive to make things right. It was just that every so often, as she'd worked on this charm, she'd thrown her hands up in disgust and thought, 'It would be so easy if we could be the slightest bit cruel, and, after all, they are guilty of crimes.'
Hermione's eyes had been closed, and she opened them, a solemn expression on her face. "Let's start with the basics," she said. "Did you and Percy ever come up with a concept for a simple containment spell?"
"Yes." Penelope reached over to her pile of parchment, and pulled out a roll that had Spell Map written on the side of it. "We had written out about eight different options for containment spells before. Percy. well, there was one that he liked best of all, and when I was pregnant with Leo, I worked on that one the most. I don't know all of the advanced Arithmancy to actually construct it, but I've done research into the theory."
"Let me see," said Hermione. She held out her hand and opened the roll of parchment. She looked at it for several minutes, her brow creased. Penelope, who hadn't shown her charts and diagrams to anyone, stood up and wandered over to watch Leo sleep. The charts were probably terrible. She'd been staring at the diagrams for so long that she'd probably missed a major point somewhere along the way. She definitely should have waited a few days before showing everything to Hermione. Penelope knew she wasn't as smart as Percy had been, and she could have used his excellent mind for Arithmancy when doing her research. Their basic idea had been that, rather than surrounding a building with a charm, they would surround the prisoners with the charm. The prisoners would be bound individually to the building. If they tried to leave, their personal boundary would do any number of things to prevent them - catch fire, freeze, put them to sleep - she and Percy had spent an entire evening coming up with more and more outrageous "punishments" for prisoners who tried to escape their new 'cells'.
"Penny?" Hermione's voice interrupted her train of self-doubt, and she turned to see Hermione looking much more alert than she had earlier. "This is brilliant. How did you come up with it?"
"You really think so?" Penelope asked, not quite sure she could believe what she was hearing. "You really think it will work?"
"Well, it should work, in terms of keeping something inside something else. We still have all those other issues to work out - guards, unexpected magic, incompetent judicial systems - but a strong containment spell would have to be at the root of things, and I really think this can work."
"You don't think," asked Penelope, remembering how much sleep she'd lost over the charm, "that the idea of locking into someone's aura is too invasive - that it's too close to Stunning?"
"No!" Hermione shook her head. "Not at all! It's perfect! I wish I could have thought of it. Delia tried to get me to find a way to keep gnats away from a pomegranate when I was in Cortona. I came up with something similar, but in reverse. I surrounded the pomegranate with a barrier - I used good, solid magic, and I was pretty proud of it, but anyone trying to break it would have immediately tried to go for the pomegranate, and not the gnats and flies and insects. Of course, the spell you conceived wouldn't have worked in that situation because we wouldn't possibly be able to get to all of the possible set of insects who could potentially attack the fruit, but with Culparrat, we have a finite number of identifiable prisoners, and."
Penelope wasn't really sure where Hermione was headed with this, but she listened patiently. Maybe part of being a Thinker was to ramble until you found an answer. She must have looked confused, however, because Hermione laughed at her.
"It's all right, Penny," she said. "I'll stop rambling. Your eyes were starting to glaze over, and I know from Ron that means it's time to stop."
"So," Penelope repeated, "you're saying you think it could work?"
"Yes." Hermione rolled up the parchment and gave it back to Penelope. "Put that in a safe place. It's now a high-security document. I think we still need some more layers of containment charms, just to be safe. We could rework my pomegranate spell for the building anyway, just to add some extra security. And we'll definitely need another layer. But I think we should start working with this. I don't know why you thought you needed my help - you've had it figured out all this time."
"I don't know about that," Penelope said, laughing. She felt more light- hearted than she had in months. "You're right - we still have a lot of work to do, which is good, because I need to work to pay for my new flat."
"Oh!" Hermione leaned forward, and looked at Penelope with enthusiasm. "When are you moving? I didn't know that you'd found someplace."
"Well, Molly's not really talking about it, and there were too many other things happening at Christmas," said Penelope. Molly Weasley was routinely "forgetting" about Penelope's impending move, and had even asked her, a week earlier, if she'd like to redecorate Leo's room, since he'd soon be too old for cuddly bears and balloons. "But yes, I found a place here in Diagon Alley, close to the Ministry. We're moving in February."
"How exciting!" said Hermione. "I've always thought it would be lovely to live on Diagon Alley. I don't think I'll ever stop being fascinated by the things I see here. And I used to be so jealous when I'd come before school to buy my things, and see the young wizard children running about. Not that I had a bad childhood - it was lovely - but it was a Muggle upbringing."
Penelope smiled in agreement. "In a way, I think that being raised a Muggle makes people more fiercely interested in magical things. I. I love the Burrow," she said. It felt good to have someone to talk to - another girl, with her background. She rarely saw Cho, except when working, and she'd lost touch with many of the other girls she'd known in school. "I would love for Leo to grow up there, and we'll still probably spend our weekends there. But I do need my own place. I can't live with Percy's parents forever."
"Of course not!" said Hermione.
"It was difficult for Percy, growing up there, and I think that's always in the back of my mind. He wouldn't want to live there. He loved his family, he loved his parents, and he loved his siblings, no matter how much of a hard time they seemed to give him. But he was different. He was so much more serious. And the same things that make the Burrow such a wonderful, homey place are the things that make it difficult to live there sometimes. I know that he always felt closest to Ginny, even though she was so much younger, because she seemed to be able to sense when to stop. I guess we know the reason behind that now as well, don't we?"
"Yes, we do," said Hermione, looking distant. But before Penelope could ask what the matter was, Hermione shook herself and smiled. "You better watch out for Leo. Who knows what sort of super powers he may have inherited. All of them are overachievers in their own way. Even Fred and George."
"You know," said Penelope, wondering if it was okay to gossip about your private life in an office at the Ministry of Magic. It seemed more out of place than in the kitchen of the Burrow, even if there was a playpen sitting in the middle of the room. "Fred and George were so horrible to Percy, growing up. One time, he wrote me a letter, and it said, 'if it weren't for the twins making my life a living hell every day, I think that my family life would be quite pleasant.' I think they realize now how sensitive he was to their teasing. Fred finds excuses all the time to drop in and play with Leo. Sometimes I wouldn't even know he'd been by, except that there's usually a new toy in Leo's hand."
They both laughed - so loudly, in fact, that Leo woke up and began to laugh as well. Penelope wandered over to him and reached down to tickle his toes.
"Well, I'm proud of you," said Hermione. "And I promise to visit you in your flat whenever you invite me."
"You're always invited," said Penelope, lifting Leo out of the playpen and carrying him over to the chair. "Especially if you'd like to babysit."
Hermione kissed Leo's head, and then sat back down in her seat. She pulled out a piece of parchment and, inking her quill, said, "I think we need to draft a letter."
"To whom?"
"Well, what we really need is a professional Charmer. We could try building the spell in miniature and begin working with it, but really, we need someone with experience in building large Charms to come and tell us how this would work on a grand scale. I was going to write to Delia and see if she could recommend anyone."
With the feeling of light-heartedness came a feeling of relief. Penelope hadn't been sure how she was going to build any spell once she'd thought of it. Why it hadn't occurred to her to ask Arthur for the services of a professional Charmer was beyond her, but it certainly seemed like the most obvious step. "You might want to write to Professor McGonagall as well. They've been building all sorts of charms at Hogwarts. They must be working with someone. or several someones."
"Good point," said Hermione. "I'll draft two letters. Until then, we should start thinking about our other problems. Layers. We need layers. We've done a lot - well, you have, really. We've still got so much to do, though. But I think this is enough for today." Hermione yawned.
Penelope nodded in agreement. They still did have a lot of work to do, but now that she was working with someone, Penelope felt like it would be no problem at all.
~*~
Ginny stood outside her father's office, feeling for the first time as if he were really the Minister of Magic. The scroll in her hand was so... official.
"Ms Virginia Weasley:
It has come to our attention that you are a practitioner of Empathic magic. Your valuable presence is requested at the Ministry of Magic on the 5th day of January, 1999. Please arrive with your broomstick, and whatever materials are necessary to the art of Healing. You will be escorted to the dragon enclosure on the shoreline opposite Azkaban, where it is hoped that you will be of service to the Permanent Azkaban Patrol in determining what ails their dragons.
Thank you for your time, Arthur Weasley Minister of Magic"
She rolled up the parchment, and stuck it in her pocket, feeling very nervous. She had wanted, very much, to go out to Azkaban and see what it was like. She had sworn to herself that she would work out a way to get there. But though she couldn't wait to test her skills on the dragons, she hoped - very secretly - that Charlie was planning to hold her hand.
"Miss Weasley." Arthur's personal guard had opened the door for her, and he was smiling. "Your father is ready for you."
"Thanks, Lawrence." She walked into the office, and was glad to see that Charlie was already standing there, alongside her father. "Hi -" she barely managed, before her voice was muffled in Charlie's robes. He'd pulled her into such a tight hug that she could barely keep her grip on her broomstick.
"You're a good one for secrets," he said quietly.
"I wasn't planning to keep it secret," she said honestly. "I just wanted more time to practice first."
"It's all right." He squeezed her again, and let her go. "I'm not that surprised. You were always really... sensitive." He stepped back and gazed apologetically at her. "I thought it was because you were the girl, but I suppose we should have paid more attention. Bill says there were plenty of signs -"
"No, no," Ginny hurried to correct him. "It was dormant when I was at home and anyway, you hardly lived there with me - you had no way of knowing. Hi, Dad."
Her father hugged her too, and then sat down behind his desk, where he picked up a quill and bent over a bit of parchment. Ginny noticed how silvery the red hair around his bald spot was becoming; she had never noticed that before, and it shocked her. He finished writing and held out a Ministry visitor's badge, which hung on a cord. "Wear this at Azkaban so you're not mistaken for an intruder."
"She won't have trouble," Charlie said. He had been staring at Ginny all the while, his arms folded across his chest. "You ready, Ginny?"
"Look after her, Charlie."
"I will."
Ginny hung the badge around her neck, feeling very warm. For once, their protectiveness was rather nice. It had a ring of something precious to it, as if she was something to be protected not because she was the youngest, or the girl, but because she was special in her own right.
"You're going to have to go by Floo powder to the inn at Stornoway," Charlie explained, pointing to it on a map he'd produced from his pocket. "I'll meet you there. And then we'll fly. It takes about ten minutes in the air, but it's the closest we can get. There's no Floo portal on the shoreline, for security reasons. See you at the inn." He disappeared.
"I suppose this would all be much easier if you could Apparate," Arthur mumbled, from behind his desk. "Speak to me about that later, would you, Ginny? We'll arrange something."
Ginny gaped at her father. He had once said that he would never consider pushing up her Apparition Examination, for any reason. "Sure, Dad," she replied dazedly, before following Charlie into the fireplace, her broomstick in hand.
They were only a moment at the inn before they mounted their brooms; Charlie told her to keep low around the outside of the village, but otherwise gave her no instructions. She felt oddly grown up, flying beside her second-eldest brother as he gave her a quick rundown of what had been happening with the dragons. He gave her the information without adding explanations for her benefit and, for the first time, Ginny felt as though he were looking at her as an adult and a comrade, the way he looked at Bill. That she knew something he didn't know - that she possessed a talent he needed - was a lovely shock. It had always been the other way around.
"Charlie," she asked, when he'd finished telling her everything, "do you really think that the dragons have human energy, or do you just say so because you're crazy about them?" She pulled her cloak a little tighter with one hand as they neared the sea; a cold wind whipped her hair about her face and made her shiver.
"I really think they've... I don't know if it's human? But they're highly intelligent, and they've got emotions, I'll swear on it. I'm worried that's why they're acting up. The Dementors might have taken a toll on them."
"But Dementors remind victims of horror. What horrors could the dragons possibly have?"
Charlie gripped his broom and veered left into a thicket, before answering. "This way's faster," he muttered. "I don't know how it's possible for them to be affected. I'm hoping you'll tell me it's some sort of cold."
"Dragons get colds?"
"Of course they do," Charlie said defensively. "They get upper respiratory infections in those giant nostrils of theirs and then they can't release their smoke properly and it chars their throats - horrible for the poor beasts."
Ginny hid a smile. "Yes, the poor beasts," she agreed. "But wouldn't you know if it were a cold?"
Charlie sighed. "Yes," he admitted. "We've checked them for the usual physical ailments. Eyes are the weak point, and that was the first thing we examined. Then the nostrils. Then we poke about their privates -"
Ginny made a disgusted noise. "Char-lie!"
"I'll give it to you in technical terms, if you like."
"You're revolting!"
He laughed. "This way, we're nearly there," he said, and rose up above the trees. Ginny followed suit, and gasped at the sight of the shoreline, stretching north and south as far as she could see against the dark gray sea. Far out across the water, she spotted a pinprick of an island. Azkaban.
"Where are the dragons?" she murmured, still staring out over the ocean as she brought her broom to a safe landing beside her brother's. Her shoes sank into the soft, sandy earth and the cold salt breeze cut across her skin. It was freezing, out here. She tucked her muffler closer around her neck.
"It's all right there." Charlie pointed into space. "Amazing enchantments, aren't they?"
"Wow..." Ginny had seen things made invisible, of course - but this was more impressive than usual. An entire dragon camp was right in front of her, and all she could see were the rocks and the sea and the sky. Charlie led her between two standing stones, and Ginny gasped. Dragons were all around her. "They really are... amazing, Charlie," she whispered, standing rather close to him.
"I know," he said. "Come here, you'll need these." Charlie had led her to a massive tent, within which was a row of lockers. He opened one and started to hand her heavy, fireproof clothing. "That's a jacket," he said, "and here are trousers - they ought to fit over what you've already got on. Here are your goggles, and these are gloves -"
"I know what they are," Ginny said, pulling off her cloak and looking around the tent as she donned her gear. Dragon camp - she was really at a dragon camp - the smell of animal and human sweat mingled thickly in the air and she felt again the strong sense that she had finally grown up. She had been let into one of her brothers' secret worlds. This was what Charlie did every day; he came here to these tents and put on his scary looking gear and organized a camp full of dragons and riders for the Ministry of Magic. He was really something. She shut her jacket and tightened the cords across her chest, noticing Charlie's impressed look.
"You got the hang of that quickly."
She declined to tell him that she'd practiced on Harry's jacket, last fall. "Right, so, what now?"
"Fireproof your broomstick," Charlie instructed.
"Did it at home," Ginny said, digging through her cloak pockets for a hair bobble. She pulled her hair back tight. "I'm ready."
A sudden, hot wind blew back the tent flaps, and there was a sound of loud, leathery flapping, followed by a giant snort.
"Day shift's back," Charlie said. "Good, now you can have a look at Norbert - he's been behaving worst of all - Harry's been having a hell of a time."
"Then put him on another dragon!"
"He wants Norbert. I'm not a tyrant, you know - no more of your Howlers, thank you very much." Charlie took her cloak away and handed her a heavier one, made of dragon hide. "It's freezing cold out here," he said, helping her put it over her shoulders, and reaching for the clasps.
"I can do it," Ginny said automatically, but she didn't brush his hands away. "Percy used to do up my cloak," she murmured, remembering all the times he'd fussed over her in school.
Charlie gave a wistful smile, finished buttoning her up, and bussed her lightly on the top of her head. "Let's go meet the dragons, shall we? And you can... do whatever it is you do."
Ginny shoved down the fit of nerves that threatened to overtake her. She could do this. She had been practicing nonstop on all the house animals, and on all the magical creatures that Remus had managed to acquire. She could do this.
Charlie led her out of the tent and Ginny took an automatic step back - the newly landed dragon was very, very close; it gave a great roar and shot a bellowing wave of fire into the sky. A dozen keepers, all dressed in gear like Ginny's, surrounded the giant green animal and led it away. It snorted and stamped - it didn't look a bit happy, and neither did Mick O'Malley, who dropped to the ground to avoid being smashed by its tail as it stormed away.
"Viking's got a bit of a temper this afternoon," Mick said, getting to his feet and wiping his gloves on the front of his jacket as Ginny and Charlie walked into the clearing to meet him. "Hope we can get this all sorted out - hello, Ginny." He stuck out his hand, and Ginny shook it.
"You're the species specialist?"
"'S'right."
"And this is affecting all the breeds?" Ginny asked briskly. She had a list of necessary questions in her head, and she hoped she would remember to ask them all. She felt odd and vulnerable, as if at any moment they would all realize that she wasn't a professional at all, and that she had no idea what she was doing here.
Mick didn't seem to notice her insecurity. "Every dragon that flies full shifts has started to buck in midair, just recently. They're showing typical signs of physical pain, but we can't for the life of us work out where it's coming from, and Charlie's suggested it might be emotional distress." Mick rubbed his forehead. "I don't know if it's possible, but... it just might be. They're all giving us hell - the four Welsh Greens, the Fireball, and the Norwegian Ridgeback. I'd say the Fireball's feeling it least, and the Ridgeback's getting the worst of it. Let's back out of this area, Harry was right behind me and I don't want to get trampled by that crazy animal he's riding."
Ginny cringed inwardly at the thought of Harry on a maddened dragon; she shot Charlie a warning look, which he ignored. He grabbed her arm and marched her out of the clearing.
Seconds later there was another blast of fiery air, and a dragon even more enormous than the first one landed just beside them. Ginny clenched her fists so tightly that they hurt. Harry was sitting on top of the dragon, seeming very small as he pulled giant straps over his head and yanked his boots out of stirrups. He looked tense and exhausted. The keepers that had taken Viking to his enclosure were running back now, wands out, and it took every one of them to control Harry's dragon. Norbert raised his wings with a frustrated roar and brought them slamming down on either side of him; Harry shouted out and clutched at his harness. There was nothing holding him to the dragon's back any longer, and he fumbled for his Firebolt.
"I'm going to kill you, Charlie," Ginny said, her voice tight, hardly noticing that her brother had dived into the fray and was giving assistance to the other keepers. She couldn't tear her eyes away from Harry, who was still struggling not to plummet as Norbert brought his wings up and down once more with a mighty crash. The dragon breathed a harsh, streaming jet of fire at the nearest keeper, who barely managed to deflect it.
"Get that insane beast out of the clearing," someone ordered, from above. Ginny looked up to see Draco Malfoy, his wand touched to his throat, perched carelessly atop a Chinese Fireball and looking extremely put out. "My shift is over."
"You'll have to wait, Malfoy," Harry yelled irritably, not turning around. He had got his Firebolt free, and was finally climbing out of his harness. He was off the dragon's back in a matter of seconds, and Ginny only released her breath when both his feet were safely on the ground.
"Harry," she called out, not able to stop herself.
His head snapped toward her and he stood still.
"DOWN, HARRY!" Charlie yelled, and Ginny stifled a scream. Norbert had brought his tail around so quickly that she hadn't seen it coming - it was inches from slamming Harry's head - Harry dropped to the ground and flattened himself against it at the sound of Charlie's voice, and barely avoided being beaten to a pulp.
"He can't ride that dragon anymore," Ginny heard herself saying, hardly aware of her words. "Bring another one out here, this is ridiculous, this isn't safe -"
"That's why you're here, isn't it?" Harry had managed to scramble away from Norbert; he came to the edge of the landing area and stood several feet away from Ginny, breathing hard. "You're going to look at him, aren't you?"
It was a moment before Ginny could gather her thoughts. Harry was gray with fatigue; his skin was ashen and sweating, and his eyes were feverishly bright. All day, he had relived the cruelest moments of his past. She heard pleading voices swimming toward her; felt the aching waves of his disgust and fear. Her stomach began to tie in knots and she felt the overwhelming compulsion to go to him - to put her hands on him -
Block it, she heard Remus direct sternly, in the back of her mind. Block it. Block it.
It was excruciating, but she managed to drag an open corner of her mind shut again. "I'm... supposed to look at all the dragons," she answered slowly, and worked on reining in the rest of herself, a fraction at a time. In the near distance she could see Draco Malfoy's dragon landing, and the shouts of the keepers helped refocus her mind on her purpose. "I hope I'll be able to help."
"Just be careful." Harry's voice was low, and Ginny found it almost impossible to continue to block him now. Mixed with his unpleasant vibrations, she could feel another energy from him - one she didn't want to deflect. He really did care for her. Ginny had to look away.
"There are other trained dragons," she said. "Aren't there? Why don't they send for one? You shouldn't be on Norbert. He's not tame."
"Brilliant observation," came a cold voice from the clearing. Ginny turned toward it and narrowed her eyes. Malfoy was approaching them. He stopped just inches from Ginny, and she stiffened. "Is that what they brought you out here to tell us?" he asked sarcastically. "That Potter's dragon is deranged? What an astounding gift you have, Weasley."
"Shut up." Harry stepped up beside Ginny. She felt the sudden warmth of his defensiveness, and permitted herself a tiny smile before working to block it out. "You said your shift was over," Harry said, "so go home."
"If she's here to look at dragons," Malfoy returned, "then I'm not going anywhere until she's looked at Mordor."
"She has a name," Harry hissed.
"I understand that Mordor is less affected than the others," Ginny replied with pointed efficiency, hoping the fight wouldn't escalate. It wasn't worth it. "So I'll probably begin with Norbert, since he looks worst."
"Oh, of course," Malfoy said. He ran a gloved hand through his fine hair, and smirked at her. "Must take care of Potter."
Ginny didn't even flinch, and she congratulated herself for it. Things had certainly changed. "Yes, that's right," she returned, in a voice as cool as Malfoy's. "Excuse me." She swept past him towards Charlie, who was standing half-slumped and panting in the center of the landing area, watching as the keepers led Mordor away, with Mick at their head. "You okay?" she asked quietly, when she was close enough.
Charlie shrugged and straightened. "Could you tell anything?" he asked, in lieu of an answer. "Did you - get a vibe, or something?"
"What - from the dragons? No, I need to get closer to them, Charlie. They're huge. I can't tell anything standing down at their feet."
Charlie's eyebrows shot up. "You want to get closer?"
"I don't have a choice. I think I should start with Norbert - he's worst off, so he'll be the easiest to read. So just go on and stun him -"
"Stun him?" Charlie gave a tired laugh. "He's just flown for ten hours. He has to eat, he has to hydrate, he has to have a proper rest or he won't be any good to us tomorrow - I can't stun him."
"Well, which one can you stun then?"
"Of the full shift dragons? I can't stun any. You can stand outside the enclosures, and that's about it."
Ginny felt a thrill of fear. She hadn't expected that the dragons would be awake for their examinations. "Charlie, you don't understand. I can't feel anything from outside the enclosures. I have to be in range."
"Well, if you think I'm going to fly you up next to one of their heads, you can think again."
"I thought you were supposed to know how to do that!"
"I do. And I don't mind risking my neck. But I won't risk yours - not like that, not with how they've been behaving."
"Well, what am I wearing all of this for, then?" Ginny demanded, tugging at her protective gear.
Charlie shook his head. "Fireproof all the clothes you want, they'll still turn you to a crisp if you make a false move."
"They're unstable, Ginny."
She jumped. Harry had practically sneaked up behind her. "I have to get close," she pleaded, turning to him for support, "and I really want to get this over with. But Charlie won't take me up - will you do it?"
Harry glanced at Charlie before answering. "No. I don't think it's safe."
"Oh, this is just rich!" Ginny glowered from one to the other of them. "You -" she pointed at Charlie "- have been dragon keeping for ages, driving Mum wild with fear. And you -" she glared at Harry "- have been strapped to a mad dragon all day long. But it's not safe for me?" She shivered with anger, amazed that she could have felt, earlier, that she was being treated as an equal. She should have known better; when push came to shove, she was still considered a child. "Which of you is going to take me closer?"
Charlie and Harry exchanged another glance, and Harry shifted uncomfortably, but neither seemed inclined to change his mind.
"Is there a problem?" Malfoy called, from the edge of the clearing. When Ginny turned, she found him looking right at her. "Do you plan to do your job, Weasley, or are you going to be useless, like the rest of your -"
"Sod off," Charlie called back, before Malfoy could finish. "Nobody's interested in your opinion."
Malfoy walked slowly up to Charlie, still holding his broom, his riding gloves dangling from his other hand. "You should be," he said softly. "Unlike you, I have no need of a job."
Charlie and Harry both opened their mouths, looking ready to swear, but Malfoy cut them off.
"Insult me again, and I'll quit. I mean it." He raised an eyebrow. "Don't pretend you can replace me. You're having trouble finding riders."
Charlie made a growling sort of noise. Harry turned away.
"I asked what the problem was," Malfoy repeated, his voice icy. "Can someone explain why she -" he gestured to Ginny "- is standing around chatting while my dragon gets worse? I think you're aware of what I've invested to be sure of proper treatment for Mordor. Your specialists have spent all their time examining the Ridgeback - I want her to look at my dragon. Now."
"She's not looking at anything," Charlie seethed, "until we get things straightened out."
Malfoy turned his stare on Ginny. "What things?"
"Apparently it's unsafe," Ginny explained, clipping her words to let Harry and Charlie know just how she felt about it, "for me to examine the dragons while they're awake. I assumed they'd be stunned, but since that's not possible -"
"Of course you can examine them awake," Malfoy said with a snort.
"No. I can't do it from outside their stables. I need to get close to the -"
"I know what Healers do," said Malfoy in an impatient, patronizing tone of voice. "Go up and do it."
"She's not flying up on her own," Charlie said, looking outraged. "She's untrained."
"Then go with her. Honestly, must your decisions be supervised?" Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Why doesn't Potter take her?"
Charlie looked as if he wanted to say something truly rude, but he bit his tongue.
"It's not going to happen," Harry said flatly. "It's going to have to wait."
Malfoy gave Harry a lazy smile. "Scared of them?" he asked, and jerked his head toward the dragon enclosures. "Well, I'm not. And I'm not going to spend the evening here, while you play protect the girlfriend. I'll take her up." Malfoy pulled his riding gloves back on and mounted his broom. He fixed Ginny with a very unsettling look. "Get on."
Ginny hesitated. Her skin crawled at the very idea of being so near to Malfoy, for any reason. To trust him, after all he had done to hurt her family and friends, was pure foolishness. On the other hand... if no one else was going to give her the opportunity to do the job she'd been hired to do...
"Don't even try it, Malfoy." Harry's hand was very near his wand.
"Oh, just stop," Ginny burst suddenly, looking at him in annoyance. "I came out here to do a job, and I'm going to do it." She undid her cloak and handed it to a very surprised Charlie, got astride Malfoy's broom so that she sat in front of him, and clutched the handle with both her hands.
"Ginny, don't you -" Charlie started, but Ginny didn't hear the rest of it, nor did she have to stay on the ground long to endure the look of pure horror on Harry's face. Malfoy had reached around her, grabbed hold of the broom, and kicked off the ground at top speed. They were fifty feet in the air within seconds.
"Take me to Norbert first," Ginny yelled over her shoulder, trying to move forward as much as possible. A wave of something vicious and cold had surrounded her, and she realized that she was in Malfoy's aura. It was by far the most disturbing she had yet encountered. Malfoy had been through the same war as the rest of them... but in such a different manner. His energy was riddled with violence. Darkness. Ginny shuddered.
"No." Malfoy steered a straight course for his dragon's stable. "If Potter wants his dragon looked at, let him deal with it."
"I'm telling you," Ginny returned angrily, "that if Norbert feels the worst, I'll have the easiest time reading him. This has nothing to do with personal preference."
"Of course it doesn't." Malfoy did not change direction.
"The quicker I can work out what's wrong, the quicker your dragon will have a remedy," Ginny yelled over the rushing wind, "and I'm telling you for the last time, Malfoy, Norbert will be the quickest way to tell. I don't want to stay up here any longer than you do."
It was ridiculous. Like talking to a wall. Malfoy laughed softly, near her ear, and Ginny felt ill. Again she felt the icy rush of his hatred - his past. It was a past that included violence against the Grangers and violence against her brothers - there was real cruelty in his energy. And beneath that cruelty, threatening to swallow her like an undertow, there was sickening grief. Malfoy's whole aura twisted with a black, relentless suffering, and, quite against her will, Ginny found that she was raising her hands and turning towards him. Whatever tortured Malfoy, she was distraught to realize, she felt compelled to drive it out.
Block it. Ginny shook her head and straightened her spine. Remus's voice was suddenly strong in her mind again. Block it. He isn't there.
"Fine, Weasley, have it your way." Malfoy jerked the nose of the broom so violently that Ginny feared she would tumble from it, but he turned them toward Norbert's enclosure. "You better be right."
Malfoy flew fearlessly towards the dragon; it startled Ginny, who had expected less from him. "Don't get too close," she warned, when Malfoy made no sign of slowing down. They were twenty meters from Norbert's immense head.
"Nothing will happen," Malfoy said, speeding up.
"Don't get that close," Ginny repeated, yelping in terror and sliding back into Malfoy on instinct. They weren't ten feet from Norbert's sharp, bronze horns. His enormous right eye glinted madly. He turned his giant, scaly face towards them and opened his jaws - Ginny could see all his massive teeth - they were each the size of her hand - he must be about to breathe fire right at her -
Malfoy raised his hand, and Norbert's mouth closed at once. His head swiveled away.
"Back up!" Ginny shouted, terrified, elbowing at Malfoy to do something. This was lunacy. It was suicide to stay this close to a dragon. He must be trying to kill her.
"You're fine," Malfoy said, sounding bored. "He's not even looking at you. Stop kicking."
"We're too close - I mean it!" Ginny tried to steer the broom herself, but couldn't pry his hands from the handle.
"You Gryffindors are all talk." Malfoy gave a derisive laugh. "Frightened of a dragon."
"It's good sense to be frightened of some things - now back up -" She managed to get the broom to point left, and tried to fly it away from Norbert.
Malfoy jerked the broom back into place with a snarl. "Do you honestly think I'd risk my life just to scare you?" he asked, his voice suddenly very low. "Do you think for one second I'd bother putting you in danger? Not that I care if you burn to death, but I'm right next to you. I'd get burnt if you did. Think about it."
Ginny wanted to give him a nasty look, but she didn't dare take her eyes off the dragon. "And why should I trust you?" she demanded.
Malfoy sighed. "Just get to work, Weasley," he said. "This should be close enough."
Though her heart raced with fear, Ginny went hot in the face. "Don't order me," she retorted. "I work for the Ministry, not for you."
"I've paid the Ministry to look after Mordor," Malfoy said smoothly. "I've financed this visit of yours. So get to work."
It was hard to reach out her hands - she didn't want to be any closer to that dragon than was absolutely necessary - but Ginny did it. She closed her eyes and hoped it wouldn't be the end of her. For a minute she was too frightened to do anything but sit there, but finally she focused with every shred of her self-control, and to her shock, she connected. Norbert's aura was so powerful that she gasped.
"What?" Malfoy demanded.
Ginny ignored him. He didn't exist. She moved her hands through the great, warm barrier that was the dragon's natural shield. "That's beautiful," she murmured to herself.
"What?" Malfoy repeated, sounding even more irritated.
"We should check the eyes," Ginny answered, hanging on tightly to her tenuous connection with Norbert. "Is it safe to fly right in front of his face?"
Malfoy made an impatient noise, and flew directly before Norbert's snout. Ginny gulped anxiously and gazed into the dragon's yellow eyes, each of which was half as big as she was. But Norbert did not so much as snort as they approached, and Ginny felt oddly... safe. Slowly, she allowed Malfoy's energy to penetrate her senses again. She felt for his motives - searching for anticipation, for personal hatred, for intent to injure. When she sensed no danger, she closed off again - it was much easier this time - and opened up to Norbert. She concentrated, amazed at how simple it was for her to feel everything - her practice had really paid off.
"It's his eyes," she said aloud, when her palms skimmed across a troubled patch in the dragon's force field. Her fingers curled around tight, hot knots of energy, close to the corneas. "But it is physical," she mumbled to herself. "This is pain in the tissue. I thought they already had their eyes checked!"
"They did," Malfoy answered shortly.
"They need a more thorough examination," Ginny said. "I don't know how to fix this, but there's definitely a problem in his eyes - let me feel the rest of him and make sure it's just that."
Malfoy steered them around Norbert's enormous form; when they were directly over the dragon's harness, Ginny gasped.
"Stop - go lower."
Malfoy dropped into a hover over Norbert's back and Ginny shivered. It was cold here, right where Harry sat every day. Norbert's back ached - but this wasn't a muscular ache. This wasn't physical. This was almost like the waves she had felt from Harry, after his brushes with Dementors. This was like her own experience with Dementors, though, coming from the animal, it wasn't exactly emotional. And yet it was.
"Bizarre," she whispered. "It's in his back, but not in his tissue." Charlie had been right about the dragons after all. Ginny groaned inwardly at the idea of giving him more reasons to treat the beasts as if they were human... but it was amazing.
"Let her down, Malfoy."
Ginny's concentration broke at the sound of Harry's voice - she hadn't realized it, but she had expected him to come after her sooner. He was hovering alongside them, looking murderous, and Ginny felt a twinge of impatience.
"I'm fine, Harry," she began, but Harry didn't seem to hear her.
"I said land," he barked at Malfoy. His wand was out and his eyes flashed.
Malfoy gripped Ginny's waist, pulling her back against him. "She said she's fine, Potter," he drawled. "Get out of the way."
Ginny gasped and wrenched herself forward, but Malfoy didn't let go. Harry looked as if his head was about to explode; he raised his wand, and Ginny's heart fluttered at the open jealousy in his expression. She had never seen him look so much like Ron - like he might truly lose his temper. She was so strangely flattered that she didn't notice Norbert's head swinging towards them again until it was almost too late. The dragon's jaw opened wide and its teeth looked ready to snap Harry in two.
"DIVE!" Ginny screamed.
Harry dove. He flattened himself along his broom and just escaped being eaten - but not for long. Norbert let out a frightening, angry roar, and snapped at Harry again, while Ginny pulled her wand in a panic. She pointed it at Norbert but it was of no use - she had no idea what to do. Harry seemed to, however; he deflected an enormous jet of fire with what looked to be an invisible shield. A foot from his face, the fire met a wall and exploded before him.
"You'll have to land, Potter," Malfoy called out, sounding amused. "Seems you haven't got the right touch."
Harry maneuvered around the back of Norbert's head, but it was only a moment before the dragon twisted its neck and found him again. "Damn it!" he yelled in frustration. "Calm down!" But whatever he was doing with his wand meant nothing to Norbert, who was aggravated in the extreme.
"Land," Ginny begged, forgetting herself. "Go on, Harry, just land - don't hurt yourself."
He didn't listen.
"Land," Ginny ordered Malfoy, not bothering to hide her fear. Harry wouldn't go to the ground unless she did; she knew that. "Norbert's even worse now-" She cringed as a sheet of fire came at her, and screamed again at the sight of the dragon's head as it lunged for the broom.
Malfoy's body didn't even tense. He kept hold of Ginny with one hand and raised his wand with the other, deflecting the fire. He left his wand up for a long moment. As Ginny watched, Norbert calmed down and turned away again, suddenly docile. Harry hovered on the other side of the dragon, panting.
"What did you just do?" Harry yelled.
Ginny pulled Malfoy's hand from her stomach and threw it off.
Malfoy laughed, but didn't answer. In his energy, Ginny could feel a hot, thrilling sort of charge. Power.
"Why did you wait so long to do that?" Ginny demanded, trying to turn and face him. "Norbert could have killed Harry -"
"Like I care," Malfoy said, emphasizing each word.
Strangled with frustration, Ginny gave up. He was hopeless. She had to block him out, along with all his darkness, and ignore her own utter fright at being eye to eye with a meat-eating beast. She had to concentrate, regardless of Harry hovering in the air and Charlie shouting on the ground, and regardless of the fact that Malfoy's body was still touching hers. She was here to work. Ginny took a deep breath, gripped the broom with her knees and held out her hands, palms facing Norbert.
Malfoy grabbed her hard around the waist.
Ginny's concentration was instantly shattered. "Let go," she said furiously, squirming in his painful grasp. She caught Harry's eyes and the injured anger in his face made her feel guilty for no reason.
Malfoy was laughing again. "I'm not having some drama where you fall and have to be caught," he said quietly, pulling her tighter against him. "Don't flatter yourself that I get off on this..."
Ginny had the very distinct and disturbing feeling that he did - if only to torment Harry. Still, the very idea was disgusting and she realized that as long as she was on this broom with Malfoy, her concentration would be shot. She couldn't trust him - not now that he was on a mission to infuriate Harry. This wasn't going to work.
"Land," she said shortly. Malfoy didn't move the broom; Ginny pressed down on the nose but he was stronger and he held it in place. "Land," she said again, louder. "I'm finished for today."
"You haven't looked at Mordor."
"And I'm not going to until I have some proper working conditions. Take me down. Now."
Malfoy snorted. "Oh, I don't think so."
Harry flew up to Malfoy so that their brooms were nose to nose, and told him to land. He used several words that Ginny had rarely heard from him.
"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth, Potter?"
Ginny elbowed Malfoy in the gut. She didn't care that she was on his broom and at his mercy - feeling Malfoy's stomach contract and hearing him wheeze in pain was a satisfying victory. Ginny met Harry's eyes, and this time there was no anger in them. They shone fiercely at her.
"Come on," he muttered, pulling his broom alongside Malfoy's. Ginny didn't hesitate. She swung one leg over its handle, and pulled the other one off of Malfoy's broom before he had recovered enough to tighten his grip on her again. Harry clamped an arm around her and flew instantly higher, out of Malfoy's reach.
"Thanks."
Harry didn't answer but he moved his thumb against her stomach and rested his head against hers for a second. Before they landed, she could have sworn she'd felt his mouth on the back of her neck, even through her hair.
"Are you bloody insane?" Charlie was on top of her before they'd even dismounted. "What the -" Charlie's language was worse than Harry's and it took him longer to exhaust his colorful vocabulary.
When he'd finished, Ginny crossed her arms. "It's your fault for not taking me yourself," she hissed. "Dad's going to be really angry."
"You're damn right he is!" Charlie answered hotly. "With you! Getting on a broom with Malfoy after what we've bloody well -" And off he went again.
Ginny looked at Harry. "I'm going to take this off," she said, ignoring her brother, whose stream of curses had yet to die down. She tugged on her dragon vest. "Have a good shift, Charlie."
"Shift?" Charlie laughed. "Like I'm going anywhere other than Dad's office. He's going to know about this right now. Besides, I don't have to fly for another four hours."
"Fine. Tell him I want a proper escort next time. And a pay raise."
"Oh you won't be getting a pay raise." Malfoy's voice was hard and cold. He'd landed silently beside them and held his broom clenched in his fist. His eyes were ice gray and fixed on Ginny. "I'll report this charade to the Secretary Privy, Weasley, and you'll be fired before the end of the day. I don't care who your father thinks he is."
Charlie took a dangerous step towards Malfoy, and Harry blocked him. "Don't," Harry said, very low. "Not worth it."
"I'll see you at the Ministry then," Charlie snapped at Malfoy. He pulled his wand and Disapparated without another word.
Harry and Malfoy looked at each other for a moment that seemed to last forever. Ginny finally touched Harry's arm, and he jumped. "Let's go," she said.
Harry nodded.
"How sweet," Malfoy drawled behind them as they turned and went to the equipment tent. "Seems you can't do anything without a Weasley, Potter. Predictable that you ended up f-"
"Shh, don't," Ginny whispered, grabbing Harry's arm to stop him from launching himself back at Malfoy. "Not worth it."
Harry's jaw tightened, but he kept moving forward, past the clearing where the dragons had landed earlier. New ones were taking off now; one strapping older man was disappearing out across the water atop a Welsh Green as another climbed into his harness. A woman was already circling the far side of the island atop her dragon.
They headed into the deserted equipment tent. Ginny watched, impressed, as the three reserve riders flew around the prison and wondered if she might be able to persuade the female rider to take her up in the air.
"I want to go up to the Ministry," Harry muttered. He tore off his fireproof clothes and threw them in a locker. "I want to back Charlie up."
"You want to tell my dad I shouldn't come back here?"
Harry glanced at her. "I just want to make sure Malfoy doesn't skew the story."
"Then go. I'm going too, but it'll take me longer. I have to go back to Stornoway and then travel by Floo powder."
"Want me to go with you?"
It was obvious that he hoped she would say no. Ginny finished putting her things away and shut her locker. "No. Go ahead."
Harry exhaled. "All right." He looked at her, and his green eyes studied hers. "I should've taken you up," he said.
Ginny hesitated. She hadn't had a chance yet to get irritated with Harry for everything that had just happened, and she was pretty sure that she wanted to. But he did sound sorry.
"But you saw how Norbert is with me," Harry went on. "He couldn't care less about spells. I." Harry gave a frustrated laugh and looked away from her. "I don't know how Malfoy does it."
"Everyone has strengths." Ginny shrugged. "This must be his. Some people are just natural with dragons."
"Well I'm not." Harry looked defeated. He grabbed the bottom of his sweat- soaked T-shirt, glanced sideways at Ginny, and then yanked the T-shirt off so fast that he nearly lost his glasses. He fumbled to put on a clean one.
Ginny couldn't make herself look away. "True," she said soberly, watching him dress. "You're a real disappointment." Harry shot a frown at her before pulling on a jumper. "Oh, you're excellent with Defense Against the Dark Arts of course," Ginny continued, patting his arm when he got it into the sleeve, "and you're a brilliant Quidditch player. If only you were clever about dragons too, then perhaps everyone wouldn't think you were so useless." She feigned a sigh. "Such a pity you haven't got any talents."
He stared at her for a minute, and then a shy grin sneaked across his face. "Shut up."
Ginny grinned back. Harry had just leaned in and kissed her cheek, when a drawling voice made both their heads snap towards the door.
"Good Lord." Malfoy stood in the flap of the tent, unconcealed repulsion on his face. "Another breach of work ethics I'm sure the Secretary Privy will be thrilled to hear about." Malfoy went to his locker and tossed in his gear, and then swirled a heavy cloak around his shoulders. He clasped it shut. "I do hope that my report doesn't get you both sacked." With a twist of his wand, he was gone.
Ginny and Harry turned back to each other.
"There really isn't supposed to be dating, you know," said Harry, sounding a bit worried. "I think I signed something about that."
"Oh for heaven's sake, Harry," Ginny said with a snort. "We're not going to be sacked. Just go on and make sure Charlie doesn't act like an idiot, and I'll be there in a minute."
He went.
Alone in the tent, Ginny sat on a bench and looked around the place again. The dragon-riding world did not seem so impressive now as it had an hour ago; Ginny narrowed her eyes at a locker that bore the initials C.W. Charlie was being horrible. If he didn't want her getting help from Malfoy, then he should have helped her - she'd expected him to help her. Short of that, it would have been nice to have Harry's support, although, after last night, she hadn't been expecting it.
Ginny fought down a pang of real anger at Harry. He only wanted her to be safe. She shut her eyes and reminded herself that there had been a time when she had wished and dreamed that Harry Potter would care about her, and now he did. That was a good thing. But he was being selfish - he wanted her safe, but she wanted to work. He wasn't even trying to see what she wanted. And did he really expect her to stay home, when she had this opportunity to help? And she could help, she knew it. At least she could connect with the dragons. A few minutes with Norbert's energy had told her that.
She picked up her broom and hoped she'd remember the way back to Stornaway. Rain fell hard on the roof of the tent, but Ginny didn't care how wet she was going to get; she had to get to Diagon Alley. There were a few facts of which she wanted to make the Minister aware.
~*~
By the time Harry got to the top floor of the Ministry, shouting voices carried clearly out of Mr. Weasley's office and filled the stone corridor.
"And then he grabbed Ginny and wouldn't let her down -"
"This isn't a personal argument, Weasley. She acted of her own free will -"
Harry hurried to the office door and Lawrence let him in without a word. Mr. Weasley sat well back from his desk, looking from Charlie to Malfoy with obvious confusion on his face. When he saw Harry, he looked relieved. "Harry, come in. Will you explain what -"
"I'm telling you, Dad, it's not going to work! And I don't care what the hell Rose Brown says, and I'll tell her when she gets here that she's crazy if she thinks she and her Privy Council are going to convince me to risk the personal safety of -"
Malfoy fell into a chair and drummed his fingers in a bored fashion. He glanced at Harry. "Going to be an impartial witness, Potter, or are you here to do the innocent act?" he sneered softly behind Charlie's back, as Charlie continued to shout.
Harry gritted his teeth and looked away. He could still see the perverse smile Malfoy had flashed when he'd grabbed Ginny's waist and yanked her back into him. Sick bastard.
"Charlie - CHARLIE!" Mr. Weasley stood.
Panting, Charlie backed up and flopped into the chair beside Malfoy's. "Fine," he snapped. "Don't listen to me."
"I'm listening," Mr. Weasley said gravely, "but I need the story straight. Just details. Harry?" He sat down again.
"One minute -" The Secretary Privy swept in, pushing her glasses up with a prim finger and slapping down her clipboard. "I need to hear this." She stood at the edge of the Minister's desk and crossed her arms. "Harry?"
Harry looked from Malfoy's expectant sneer to Charlie's flushed and angry face, and tried to remember how it had started. "Ginny got there," he said, "and told us she'd have to get really close to the dragons in order to help them. She asked Charlie to stun -"
"Which we can't," Charlie interrupted, "or they'd be -"
"Charlie." Mr. Weasley gave him an exasperated look and glanced back at Harry. "Go on."
"She asked Charlie to stun the dragons so she could work on them, and Charlie said he couldn't."
"Why not?" Rose Brown demanded.
Charlie made a noise of pure frustration. "I just tried to TELL YOU -"
"Because they have to eat," Harry interrupted. "They have to hydrate, and then they have to get a proper night's rest or they'll be no good to us by morning. They can't do any of those things if they're Stunned."
Mr. Weasley nodded. "So then?"
"So then Ginny said she wanted one of us to take her closer." Harry felt Malfoy's eyes on him and made himself continue. "But Charlie and I didn't think that was a good idea."
"Why not?" Rose demanded once more.
"Because dragons BREATHE FIRE, for a start, Rose," Charlie shouted.
"You fly on them all day, don't you?" Rose snapped, sounding very like Ginny.
Harry sighed. "That's different," he told Mr. Weasley, hoping that at least one person would see the difference as he did. "We're on them all day, yes - on their backs. We're armed with spells that make it possible to deflect fire. We're in harnesses, which makes it much more difficult to get thrown than if we were on brooms -"
"I was thrown," said Malfoy.
"Mick was thrown," said Rose at the same time. "That is, Mr. O'Malley. And Mr. Malfoy - and Mr. Krum."
"I know that." Harry kept his eyes on Mr. Weasley's; this was his chance to make him see that sending Ginny up to Azkaban to fly near those dragons was ludicrous. "So think about how much easier it is to be thrown off a broom if you don't have a harness. She wanted to be flown right up to their heads, but no one can do that, those dragons."
"They're mad, Dad," Charlie put in. "Bonkers, the lot. Viking nearly took Mick's head off today with his tail -"
Rose gasped. "Have you brought in the replacement dragons?" she asked anxiously.
"Yes, but there're only two. They go in for Viktor Krum's ride. And Cho Chang's." Charlie looked at her stubbornly. "Mick can handle Viking, he's been riding him for two years."
"And I," said Malfoy coolly, rising from his chair and coming to stand beside Harry, "have had Mordor since childhood. Ability with the animals is not the issue - I have a gift." He tossed his pale hair and Harry felt a stab of annoyance. "Yet my dragon suffers. These conditions are unheard of, Weasley," he leveled his glare across the Minister's desk. "If you're going to play Minister, then at least attempt to stay impartial. If the Healer has no business being near the dragons, then you must find another solution. "
Malfoy sounded uncannily like his father, and Harry got a chill.
"The Healer," said Mr. Weasley very quietly, "is my daughter."
"A fact that bears little importance here." Malfoy looked at Rose. "Privy Brown?"
She glanced at Arthur. "That's true," she said, and looked back at Harry. "Did anything else happen?"
"Why yes it did," Malfoy began, before Harry could answer. "My part in the affair has been rather conveniently left out. After these two refused to take the Healer up to do her job, and seeing that she was incapable of going on her own, I took her myself."
Arthur Weasley worked his jaw and his fingers gripped the edge of his desk. Harry knew just how he felt. "Yourself?" Mr. Weasley repeated. "On your broom?"
"That's right."
"Charlie?" Mr. Weasley pinned his son with his eyes. "This is what happened?"
"She got on of her own free will," Malfoy said for the second time. "And she might have got some work done if the hero here-" he jabbed a thumb at Harry, "- hadn't interrupted our flight. Apparently I'm not to touch the Healer." Malfoy smirked. "Apparently it's Potter's job to molest her in the equipment tents, after hours."
Harry's face burned. "Shut your mouth, Malfoy. Mr. Weasley -"
"Calm down, Harry. Is that the end of the story, Mr. Malfoy?"
"Nearly. Potter took the Healer off of my broom and down to the ground -"
"She was fighting to get down! She told you to land!"
"And nothing was accomplished," Malfoy finished. "It was a waste of time, effort, and money. Mine."
No one had time to answer. The office door opened and Ginny stumbled through it, soaking wet and clutching her broom. "It's really chucking it down out there - what'd I miss?"
"Ginny, are you all right?" Mr. Weasley shot out of his chair and nearly pushed past Rose.
Ginny took a step back. "Of course I am, why wouldn't I be?" she snapped. "It's only rain."
"But with the dragons - with what happened -"
Malfoy gave a martyred sigh.
"We're discussing your usefulness at Azkaban, Miss Weasley," said Rose, picking up her clipboard and scribbling something. "Tell me, did you have a chance to do any work at all?"
"Not really." Ginny shoved her wet hair out of her face, pulled her wand and pointed it at her robes. "Sicco." She did the same thing to her hair. "Bloody rain. Anyway, no - I worked with Norbert for a few minutes, but I have no idea what's going on. I didn't get to stay in the air."
She looked really irritated. Harry watched her and tried to work out what was wrong. Perhaps the flight in the rain had put her in a bad mood; she hadn't been so angry when they'd been at Azkaban.
"Did you want to stay in the air, Ginny?" Mr. Weasley asked, adjusting his glasses and peering at her.
"Well -" Ginny glanced at Harry, then past him, at Malfoy. "Well, yes, actually, I did."
Harry's eyebrows shot up.
Malfoy laughed softly and sank back into his chair.
"I thought you wanted to get down," Harry said, turning to the door. Ginny stood against it with her arms crossed.
"Once you came up there I had to get down," she said, and looked at her father. "Norbert tried to kill Harry every time he flew close. It's terrible."
"Just Mr. Potter?" asked Rose. "What about Mr. Malfoy - did the dragon threaten him as well?"
Harry gave Ginny a warning look but she ignored him and answered Rose. "The dragon was not as aggressive towards Mr. Malfoy."
"It didn't attack him?"
"Not. until Harry came up."
Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"I'm afraid I don't understand, Miss Weasley." Rose tapped the nib of her quill on her clipboard. "If you were in the air with Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter's presence disturbed your process, then why didn't Mr. Potter simply land?"
Ginny looked dead at Harry, and he knew it was his answer to give. But he couldn't.
"Oh well, he's terribly valiant, you see," said Malfoy, sounding delighted. "He couldn't leave the girlfriend in the air with me, could he? Had to rescue her from my clutches." Malfoy laughed. "He refused to land until I had put her on the ground."
"Mr. Potter, is this true?" Rose asked incredulously. "Work is neither the time nor place -"
"To be fair," Ginny cut in, "Malfoy wouldn't put me on the ground when I asked. Harry thought I was in danger."
"But up until that point?" Rose insisted. "You said you did work for about a minute?"
"Yes. I did." Ginny refused to look at Harry now. "If I had a proper escort, I could really be of service."
"And how is Mr. Malfoy not a proper escort?"
Harry wanted to throw something heavy at Rose Brown. Was she being intentionally thick? She had to know that Draco Malfoy was a useless liar who couldn't be trusted.
"He." Ginny looked extremely uncomfortable. "I suppose he." She shot another glance over Harry's shoulder that deeply unsettled him - she was looking at Malfoy for answers? Harry had to look away. "He already has a job, doesn't he?" Ginny finished lamely. "He can hardly do two. But he did seem. at ease with the dragons, so if there's someone else like that in Romania, Charlie? Or someone that you know of who can get close to the dragons with me and -"
"There's no budget for it," Rose interrupted. "The Privy Council won't move another Galleon to this operation as long as it continues to malfunction; that's been made clear. Riders falling right and left - what's the point of sinking more money into it? It seems a waste to them. They're far more interested in devising another method of keeping the Dementors on the island than in continuing this --"
"Then EXPLAIN it to them better," Charlie snarled. "And no, Ginny, there isn't anyone I'd trust on a broom with you next to a dragon's head, not even me - and NOT -" Charlie pointed at Malfoy. "HIM."
"Mr. Weasley, kindly lower your voice," Rose hissed. "First of all, there will be no new escort, and there will be no more money. Secondly, I suggest you maintain a level of respect for your peers in this Ministry, and leave your personal feelings at home."
Charlie seethed.
"Thirdly, you would be fortunate to have Mr. Malfoy's help in this matter. Miss Weasley is quite right; he had no obligation to assist her today, and I certainly wouldn't expect him to continue, especially since it seems that the investment he has made to bring Miss Weasley here has been a fruitless one."
The smug noise that followed Rose's comments was enough to turn Harry's stomach. That anyone could consider, even for a second, putting Ginny on a broom with Malfoy, seemed to Harry a terrible crime.
Ginny, however, didn't seem to think it was. She was regarding Rose Brown with respect, and wouldn't return Harry's attempts to catch her eye.
Mr. Weasley returned to his desk and sagged into his chair. He looked up at Harry and shook his head. "This leaves us nowhere. We can't stun the dragons, we can't replace the dragons, and now we have a Healer, but no escort."
"No one's asked me."
Harry's stomach dropped into his feet. He looked at Malfoy, whose face had twisted with some sick pleasure.
"I won't make another donation to this department until my dragon's condition is remedied," Malfoy said, curling and uncurling his fingers on the arms of the chair and keeping his eyes on Harry's. "But I'll escort the Healer." He smiled widely. "It's the least I can do."
Harry had heard about seeing red, but this was the first time it had ever happened to him. He wanted to hex Malfoy or, better yet, punch him right in the face.
"Charlie - Harry!" A voice in the door distracted Harry; Mick O'Malley had run into the Minister's office, panting and beaming. He looked around and grinned. "Minister Weasley, Privy Brown- " He turned to Ginny. "What did you do up there? I didn't think you had the time to get your work done."
Ginny looked surprised. "I didn't. Why?"
"Because I've just come from checking up on Norbert and he's eating like a - well, like a dragon. It's the first time in a month I've seen him finish a meal."
"He's looking better?" Charlie said eagerly.
"No," Mick admitted. "But at least he's eating."
"And that's your doing, Ginny?" Rose Brown asked, raising her eyebrows and picking up her clipboard.
Ginny's eyes flickered to Harry, and away again. "I suppose it might be. I only had a minute, but I did get into his aura, so."
"It must've been you, Ginny," said Mick. "Will you keep working - will you have a look at Viking?"
"I. Dad, I really want to." Ginny looked at her father, obviously torn, but Harry couldn't feel sorry for her. "Please."
Mr. Weasley looked very tired. "And you'd. be willing to escort her, Mr. Malfoy?"
Malfoy stood. "Oh yes." He sounded amused. "I'll have to cut down my flights, of course. I don't plan to be at Azkaban for more than ten hours a day."
"Wait - what?" Mick looked from Mr. Weasley to Malfoy. "He's going to escort -"
"Yes, Mr. O'Malley, you missed that bit." Rose scribbled on her clipboard and pointed to Charlie with her quill. "Can the reserve schedules be adjusted to make up for Mr. Malfoy's flights?"
Charlie nodded, looking as tired as his father, and as angry as Harry felt.
"Well then, it's settled!" But Rose was alone in her enthusiasm. Everyone else in the office was silent.
"Yes." Mr. Weasley said eventually. "It seems it is. If you would all excuse me - I'd like a moment with Ginny to discuss her schoolwork."
Everyone filed out but Harry, who didn't want to leave. He felt he deserved a moment alone with Ginny too. Right now. But he couldn't say anything in front of Mr. Weasley and he wasn't sure what he had to say to Ginny anyway. She wasn't even looking at him.
"Go and get some sleep, Harry," Mr. Weasley said. "You'll see each other tomorrow."
Glad for the direction, Harry left the Ministry and Apparated directly to his bedroom, suddenly wanting nothing more than to be unconscious.
~*~
Toil and Trouble
~*~
A/N: Thanks to B Bennett for watching over the dragons as they were being written, and thanks to the wonderful beta readers of this chapter: B Bennett, Cap'n Kathy, Caroline, CoKerry, Firelocks, and Joe.
~*~
Four month-old Percival Leander Weasley did not seem tired in the slightest, a fact that was very inconvenient to his mother. She shook a rattle in front of him and let him grab for it, hoping to tire him out, but he was indefatigable.
Normally, Penelope wouldn't have minded spending hours entertaining her son, but today was special. Hermione Granger had been appointed by the Ministry of Magic to help her work on the Imprisonment Charm that would surround Culparrat. Penelope had reached a dead end with her own research, and she knew from personal experience that Hermione was a brilliant witch - probably more so, now that she had apprenticed with a Thinker. Penelope told herself not to pin all her hopes on Hermione, but she couldn't help believing that a breakthrough was on the horizon.
Her father-in-law had assigned them a tiny office in a corner of the Ministry of Magic's main building. Penelope had spent the entire previous day trying to make it comfortable for two people, but it had been a real challenge. The office had been a mess of books and files left behind by a clerk who was now in Culparrat, awaiting trial. Ron Weasley had taken the files away for research, which had been a big help, and Penelope had gone in search of unoccupied desks and chairs that were small enough to fit into the room together. In the end she had been forced to shrink two desks and push them against the wall so that there would be enough room to accommodate Leo. Molly Weasley had offered to watch her grandson while Penelope was at work, but that orphan, Max, seemed to be more than a handful; and having Leo nearby made Penelope feel as though Percy was still there, somehow helping her to finish the work that they'd started together.
Penelope sent a colorful mobile to float above Leo's head, and then organized all the papers on her desk for the third time that morning. She doubted whether Hermione would be able to make any sense of them without her detailed explanations.
A soft knock at the door caused her to jump; she rushed to open it and found Hermione.
Hermione looked . tired.
"Good morning!" Penelope said, feeling a bit disappointed that Hermione did not seem to be well rested for their first day at work. "Are you all right?"
Smiling, Hermione reached down to tickle Leo's stomach, and nodded.
"I had a bit of an unplanned incident last night at the Snout's Fair," she said, sounding sheepish. "Ginny helped the headache go away, so I feel fine - I just look awful."
"Nonsense," said Penelope, "you just look tired. But we can start slowly, if you like. I've been working on this for over a year. It's not like another day will make a big difference."
Hermione placed her rucksack on the table and sat down in one of the chairs, turning so that she faced the playpen. She reached into her bag and pulled out a quill, but instead of also retrieving paper and ink, she put the quill on the table, shook her head, and muttered something Penelope couldn't hear.
"Sorry?" Penelope said. She flicked her wand at the mobile, and the butterflies in it took turns flittering down to dance on Leo's head. "Hermione, honestly, it's all right if you'd rather wait until tomorrow." She hoped she didn't sound too disappointed. "I can always find something to do, and - "
"No!" said Hermione. "Really, I'm fine." She had her hands crossed, but her fingers were doing little dances around each other. "I'm - I'm a bit nervous, actually. And I'm supposed to be trying not to write things down as much. The quill is a crutch. Delia says I need to let my mind absorb facts as I learn them, and not depend on re-learning them later."
"Wow." Penelope looked askance at her piles of notes. "I'd never really thought about it before. I just always sort of assumed that it helped to take notes." A half-forgotten memory popped into Penelope's head. "One time, though, Percy and I went to hear Horatio York speak in the Ministry's Grand Hall. He's the wizard who helped regulate the Owl Post System. It was a fascinating speech, and I remember almost every word of it. I didn't take notes there!"
Hermione nodded. "That's what you're supposed to do as a Thinker. Take that feeling and just sort of expand on it a little bit. The theory is that if you are listening to something with all of your concentration, then you'll retain more of it in your long-term memory. But it's so difficult for me!" Hermione threw up her hands in frustration. "I used to take notes even when I was reading for pleasure."
"Well, let's just try talking, then. I like that better anyway. I'll see if I can remember how much I've learned, and it'll feel less like work." Hermione seemed to be grateful for the guidance, and smiled.
Closing her eyes, Penelope tried to work out the best place to begin. She and Percy had started planning this over a year ago. So much had happened since then. Initially, they'd been trying to find an alternative to Dementors. What would be relevant to Hermione? Everything? Nothing?
"If you're trying to decide where to start," Hermione said, her voice sounding lower than usual, "it might be best to first try to explain the problem at hand. Don't worry about where it actually started. Think first about where it is now."
"We need a Dementor-free, magic-proof Imprisonment Charm. We need to keep people inside Culparrat in such a way that they will never be able to get out."
"Never?"
"Not unless they're pardoned."
"So, there needs to be a mechanism inside to allow prisoners to exit. And I suppose guards and the like would have to be able to move in and out."
"Yes," said Penelope. "But it's so difficult and I can't get my head around it all. In Muggle prison systems, they're limited. They have layers of deterrence. They've got iron bars, and locks, and guards, and in most cases, alarms and barbed wire. But all it takes to get a prisoner out of the compound is one guard or one official who knows the right codes. If a Muggle murderer escapes from prison, he can do harm in the world, but the implications are not nearly as serious as if a powerful Dark wizard escapes and gets hold of a wand."
Hermione had started to draw circles on the table with her fingers. She caught herself and stopped, placing her hands back in her lap. "Well, what layers do we have?"
"Obviously, we destroy their wands. That's the first order of business. The problem is that magic can be so unpredictable that there have been cases of wizards willing themselves out of prison in the past. There are a few types of wandless magic that can be performed by wizards as well - Animagi transformations, to take the most famous example."
"So," said Hermione, ticking things off with her fingers. "They have no wands. That's a minor deterrence. We're trying to avoid any sort of psychological manipulation of the type that was caused by the Dementors, so we have to assume that all prisoners will be in their right minds."
Penelope snorted. "As right as a murdering Death Eater can be in his mind."
"We do need to think about guards," said Hermione. "No matter what system is created and no matter how awful the crimes of the prisoners, they'll have to be fed and bathed and watched. And they have to be guards that are resistant to bribery and fiercely loyal to justice."
"That was one of the first things Percy and I thought about," said Penelope, surprised at how much she was remembering without the aid of her notes. "We started this whole project because of Fudge's insistence that Percy find an alternative guard solution to Dementors. But we couldn't find any group of creatures or special wizards that could handle it alone. The more powerful creatures, like the giants, have a history of inconsistency intermingling with wizards. Wizards tried to employ them in China in very early times, and the giants just sort of lost it one day and destroyed the prisons. Werewolves who are wizards have a history of loyalty to wizards in the rare times that they're accepted into society, but there's the issue of the days preceding and following the full moon. Also, we found that there are fewer and fewer werewolves in the wizarding world, due to Defense Against the Dark Arts education. Which is wonderful - we wouldn't want to inflict that on anyone unnecessarily." Penelope shivered as she thought of kind-hearted, gentle Professor Lupin.
"Percy had suggested using something like a Pogrebin," Penelope continued. "Do you know what that is?"
Hermione recited, "A Pogrebin is a Russian demon that affects people's minds. It can overcome people with a feeling of lethargy and despair, and force them into extended crying fits and feelings of futility. But -" Hermione looked confused "- they eat people, don't they?"
"Yes, they do," Penelope said, laughing. "But there are ways to stop them from doing that. You can feed them other things."
"Oh, good," said Hermione. "Although making the prisoners feel awful is exactly what we're trying to get away from. That's why they don't want to keep them Stunned."
Privately, Penelope didn't think Stunning was too bad of a punishment for someone who had murdered others. More than once, especially while pregnant, she'd had fantasies about breaking into Azkaban and torturing all of the Death Eaters there. It never made her feel better, because it still didn't seem like a big enough punishment for those who had been responsible for her husband's death. "We don't want to coddle them," she said.
"True." said Hermione, "but we also can't count on future generations being as fair in judgment as our current Ministry. There's always the possibility of innocents ending up in Culparrat, just as they did in Azkaban."
"Yes, I suppose," Penelope said. Usually, she found that she couldn't feel too worked up about that possibility. But then, every time she saw or spoke with Sirius Black, she was reminded of his story, and felt a renewed drive to make things right. It was just that every so often, as she'd worked on this charm, she'd thrown her hands up in disgust and thought, 'It would be so easy if we could be the slightest bit cruel, and, after all, they are guilty of crimes.'
Hermione's eyes had been closed, and she opened them, a solemn expression on her face. "Let's start with the basics," she said. "Did you and Percy ever come up with a concept for a simple containment spell?"
"Yes." Penelope reached over to her pile of parchment, and pulled out a roll that had Spell Map written on the side of it. "We had written out about eight different options for containment spells before. Percy. well, there was one that he liked best of all, and when I was pregnant with Leo, I worked on that one the most. I don't know all of the advanced Arithmancy to actually construct it, but I've done research into the theory."
"Let me see," said Hermione. She held out her hand and opened the roll of parchment. She looked at it for several minutes, her brow creased. Penelope, who hadn't shown her charts and diagrams to anyone, stood up and wandered over to watch Leo sleep. The charts were probably terrible. She'd been staring at the diagrams for so long that she'd probably missed a major point somewhere along the way. She definitely should have waited a few days before showing everything to Hermione. Penelope knew she wasn't as smart as Percy had been, and she could have used his excellent mind for Arithmancy when doing her research. Their basic idea had been that, rather than surrounding a building with a charm, they would surround the prisoners with the charm. The prisoners would be bound individually to the building. If they tried to leave, their personal boundary would do any number of things to prevent them - catch fire, freeze, put them to sleep - she and Percy had spent an entire evening coming up with more and more outrageous "punishments" for prisoners who tried to escape their new 'cells'.
"Penny?" Hermione's voice interrupted her train of self-doubt, and she turned to see Hermione looking much more alert than she had earlier. "This is brilliant. How did you come up with it?"
"You really think so?" Penelope asked, not quite sure she could believe what she was hearing. "You really think it will work?"
"Well, it should work, in terms of keeping something inside something else. We still have all those other issues to work out - guards, unexpected magic, incompetent judicial systems - but a strong containment spell would have to be at the root of things, and I really think this can work."
"You don't think," asked Penelope, remembering how much sleep she'd lost over the charm, "that the idea of locking into someone's aura is too invasive - that it's too close to Stunning?"
"No!" Hermione shook her head. "Not at all! It's perfect! I wish I could have thought of it. Delia tried to get me to find a way to keep gnats away from a pomegranate when I was in Cortona. I came up with something similar, but in reverse. I surrounded the pomegranate with a barrier - I used good, solid magic, and I was pretty proud of it, but anyone trying to break it would have immediately tried to go for the pomegranate, and not the gnats and flies and insects. Of course, the spell you conceived wouldn't have worked in that situation because we wouldn't possibly be able to get to all of the possible set of insects who could potentially attack the fruit, but with Culparrat, we have a finite number of identifiable prisoners, and."
Penelope wasn't really sure where Hermione was headed with this, but she listened patiently. Maybe part of being a Thinker was to ramble until you found an answer. She must have looked confused, however, because Hermione laughed at her.
"It's all right, Penny," she said. "I'll stop rambling. Your eyes were starting to glaze over, and I know from Ron that means it's time to stop."
"So," Penelope repeated, "you're saying you think it could work?"
"Yes." Hermione rolled up the parchment and gave it back to Penelope. "Put that in a safe place. It's now a high-security document. I think we still need some more layers of containment charms, just to be safe. We could rework my pomegranate spell for the building anyway, just to add some extra security. And we'll definitely need another layer. But I think we should start working with this. I don't know why you thought you needed my help - you've had it figured out all this time."
"I don't know about that," Penelope said, laughing. She felt more light- hearted than she had in months. "You're right - we still have a lot of work to do, which is good, because I need to work to pay for my new flat."
"Oh!" Hermione leaned forward, and looked at Penelope with enthusiasm. "When are you moving? I didn't know that you'd found someplace."
"Well, Molly's not really talking about it, and there were too many other things happening at Christmas," said Penelope. Molly Weasley was routinely "forgetting" about Penelope's impending move, and had even asked her, a week earlier, if she'd like to redecorate Leo's room, since he'd soon be too old for cuddly bears and balloons. "But yes, I found a place here in Diagon Alley, close to the Ministry. We're moving in February."
"How exciting!" said Hermione. "I've always thought it would be lovely to live on Diagon Alley. I don't think I'll ever stop being fascinated by the things I see here. And I used to be so jealous when I'd come before school to buy my things, and see the young wizard children running about. Not that I had a bad childhood - it was lovely - but it was a Muggle upbringing."
Penelope smiled in agreement. "In a way, I think that being raised a Muggle makes people more fiercely interested in magical things. I. I love the Burrow," she said. It felt good to have someone to talk to - another girl, with her background. She rarely saw Cho, except when working, and she'd lost touch with many of the other girls she'd known in school. "I would love for Leo to grow up there, and we'll still probably spend our weekends there. But I do need my own place. I can't live with Percy's parents forever."
"Of course not!" said Hermione.
"It was difficult for Percy, growing up there, and I think that's always in the back of my mind. He wouldn't want to live there. He loved his family, he loved his parents, and he loved his siblings, no matter how much of a hard time they seemed to give him. But he was different. He was so much more serious. And the same things that make the Burrow such a wonderful, homey place are the things that make it difficult to live there sometimes. I know that he always felt closest to Ginny, even though she was so much younger, because she seemed to be able to sense when to stop. I guess we know the reason behind that now as well, don't we?"
"Yes, we do," said Hermione, looking distant. But before Penelope could ask what the matter was, Hermione shook herself and smiled. "You better watch out for Leo. Who knows what sort of super powers he may have inherited. All of them are overachievers in their own way. Even Fred and George."
"You know," said Penelope, wondering if it was okay to gossip about your private life in an office at the Ministry of Magic. It seemed more out of place than in the kitchen of the Burrow, even if there was a playpen sitting in the middle of the room. "Fred and George were so horrible to Percy, growing up. One time, he wrote me a letter, and it said, 'if it weren't for the twins making my life a living hell every day, I think that my family life would be quite pleasant.' I think they realize now how sensitive he was to their teasing. Fred finds excuses all the time to drop in and play with Leo. Sometimes I wouldn't even know he'd been by, except that there's usually a new toy in Leo's hand."
They both laughed - so loudly, in fact, that Leo woke up and began to laugh as well. Penelope wandered over to him and reached down to tickle his toes.
"Well, I'm proud of you," said Hermione. "And I promise to visit you in your flat whenever you invite me."
"You're always invited," said Penelope, lifting Leo out of the playpen and carrying him over to the chair. "Especially if you'd like to babysit."
Hermione kissed Leo's head, and then sat back down in her seat. She pulled out a piece of parchment and, inking her quill, said, "I think we need to draft a letter."
"To whom?"
"Well, what we really need is a professional Charmer. We could try building the spell in miniature and begin working with it, but really, we need someone with experience in building large Charms to come and tell us how this would work on a grand scale. I was going to write to Delia and see if she could recommend anyone."
With the feeling of light-heartedness came a feeling of relief. Penelope hadn't been sure how she was going to build any spell once she'd thought of it. Why it hadn't occurred to her to ask Arthur for the services of a professional Charmer was beyond her, but it certainly seemed like the most obvious step. "You might want to write to Professor McGonagall as well. They've been building all sorts of charms at Hogwarts. They must be working with someone. or several someones."
"Good point," said Hermione. "I'll draft two letters. Until then, we should start thinking about our other problems. Layers. We need layers. We've done a lot - well, you have, really. We've still got so much to do, though. But I think this is enough for today." Hermione yawned.
Penelope nodded in agreement. They still did have a lot of work to do, but now that she was working with someone, Penelope felt like it would be no problem at all.
~*~
Ginny stood outside her father's office, feeling for the first time as if he were really the Minister of Magic. The scroll in her hand was so... official.
"Ms Virginia Weasley:
It has come to our attention that you are a practitioner of Empathic magic. Your valuable presence is requested at the Ministry of Magic on the 5th day of January, 1999. Please arrive with your broomstick, and whatever materials are necessary to the art of Healing. You will be escorted to the dragon enclosure on the shoreline opposite Azkaban, where it is hoped that you will be of service to the Permanent Azkaban Patrol in determining what ails their dragons.
Thank you for your time, Arthur Weasley Minister of Magic"
She rolled up the parchment, and stuck it in her pocket, feeling very nervous. She had wanted, very much, to go out to Azkaban and see what it was like. She had sworn to herself that she would work out a way to get there. But though she couldn't wait to test her skills on the dragons, she hoped - very secretly - that Charlie was planning to hold her hand.
"Miss Weasley." Arthur's personal guard had opened the door for her, and he was smiling. "Your father is ready for you."
"Thanks, Lawrence." She walked into the office, and was glad to see that Charlie was already standing there, alongside her father. "Hi -" she barely managed, before her voice was muffled in Charlie's robes. He'd pulled her into such a tight hug that she could barely keep her grip on her broomstick.
"You're a good one for secrets," he said quietly.
"I wasn't planning to keep it secret," she said honestly. "I just wanted more time to practice first."
"It's all right." He squeezed her again, and let her go. "I'm not that surprised. You were always really... sensitive." He stepped back and gazed apologetically at her. "I thought it was because you were the girl, but I suppose we should have paid more attention. Bill says there were plenty of signs -"
"No, no," Ginny hurried to correct him. "It was dormant when I was at home and anyway, you hardly lived there with me - you had no way of knowing. Hi, Dad."
Her father hugged her too, and then sat down behind his desk, where he picked up a quill and bent over a bit of parchment. Ginny noticed how silvery the red hair around his bald spot was becoming; she had never noticed that before, and it shocked her. He finished writing and held out a Ministry visitor's badge, which hung on a cord. "Wear this at Azkaban so you're not mistaken for an intruder."
"She won't have trouble," Charlie said. He had been staring at Ginny all the while, his arms folded across his chest. "You ready, Ginny?"
"Look after her, Charlie."
"I will."
Ginny hung the badge around her neck, feeling very warm. For once, their protectiveness was rather nice. It had a ring of something precious to it, as if she was something to be protected not because she was the youngest, or the girl, but because she was special in her own right.
"You're going to have to go by Floo powder to the inn at Stornoway," Charlie explained, pointing to it on a map he'd produced from his pocket. "I'll meet you there. And then we'll fly. It takes about ten minutes in the air, but it's the closest we can get. There's no Floo portal on the shoreline, for security reasons. See you at the inn." He disappeared.
"I suppose this would all be much easier if you could Apparate," Arthur mumbled, from behind his desk. "Speak to me about that later, would you, Ginny? We'll arrange something."
Ginny gaped at her father. He had once said that he would never consider pushing up her Apparition Examination, for any reason. "Sure, Dad," she replied dazedly, before following Charlie into the fireplace, her broomstick in hand.
They were only a moment at the inn before they mounted their brooms; Charlie told her to keep low around the outside of the village, but otherwise gave her no instructions. She felt oddly grown up, flying beside her second-eldest brother as he gave her a quick rundown of what had been happening with the dragons. He gave her the information without adding explanations for her benefit and, for the first time, Ginny felt as though he were looking at her as an adult and a comrade, the way he looked at Bill. That she knew something he didn't know - that she possessed a talent he needed - was a lovely shock. It had always been the other way around.
"Charlie," she asked, when he'd finished telling her everything, "do you really think that the dragons have human energy, or do you just say so because you're crazy about them?" She pulled her cloak a little tighter with one hand as they neared the sea; a cold wind whipped her hair about her face and made her shiver.
"I really think they've... I don't know if it's human? But they're highly intelligent, and they've got emotions, I'll swear on it. I'm worried that's why they're acting up. The Dementors might have taken a toll on them."
"But Dementors remind victims of horror. What horrors could the dragons possibly have?"
Charlie gripped his broom and veered left into a thicket, before answering. "This way's faster," he muttered. "I don't know how it's possible for them to be affected. I'm hoping you'll tell me it's some sort of cold."
"Dragons get colds?"
"Of course they do," Charlie said defensively. "They get upper respiratory infections in those giant nostrils of theirs and then they can't release their smoke properly and it chars their throats - horrible for the poor beasts."
Ginny hid a smile. "Yes, the poor beasts," she agreed. "But wouldn't you know if it were a cold?"
Charlie sighed. "Yes," he admitted. "We've checked them for the usual physical ailments. Eyes are the weak point, and that was the first thing we examined. Then the nostrils. Then we poke about their privates -"
Ginny made a disgusted noise. "Char-lie!"
"I'll give it to you in technical terms, if you like."
"You're revolting!"
He laughed. "This way, we're nearly there," he said, and rose up above the trees. Ginny followed suit, and gasped at the sight of the shoreline, stretching north and south as far as she could see against the dark gray sea. Far out across the water, she spotted a pinprick of an island. Azkaban.
"Where are the dragons?" she murmured, still staring out over the ocean as she brought her broom to a safe landing beside her brother's. Her shoes sank into the soft, sandy earth and the cold salt breeze cut across her skin. It was freezing, out here. She tucked her muffler closer around her neck.
"It's all right there." Charlie pointed into space. "Amazing enchantments, aren't they?"
"Wow..." Ginny had seen things made invisible, of course - but this was more impressive than usual. An entire dragon camp was right in front of her, and all she could see were the rocks and the sea and the sky. Charlie led her between two standing stones, and Ginny gasped. Dragons were all around her. "They really are... amazing, Charlie," she whispered, standing rather close to him.
"I know," he said. "Come here, you'll need these." Charlie had led her to a massive tent, within which was a row of lockers. He opened one and started to hand her heavy, fireproof clothing. "That's a jacket," he said, "and here are trousers - they ought to fit over what you've already got on. Here are your goggles, and these are gloves -"
"I know what they are," Ginny said, pulling off her cloak and looking around the tent as she donned her gear. Dragon camp - she was really at a dragon camp - the smell of animal and human sweat mingled thickly in the air and she felt again the strong sense that she had finally grown up. She had been let into one of her brothers' secret worlds. This was what Charlie did every day; he came here to these tents and put on his scary looking gear and organized a camp full of dragons and riders for the Ministry of Magic. He was really something. She shut her jacket and tightened the cords across her chest, noticing Charlie's impressed look.
"You got the hang of that quickly."
She declined to tell him that she'd practiced on Harry's jacket, last fall. "Right, so, what now?"
"Fireproof your broomstick," Charlie instructed.
"Did it at home," Ginny said, digging through her cloak pockets for a hair bobble. She pulled her hair back tight. "I'm ready."
A sudden, hot wind blew back the tent flaps, and there was a sound of loud, leathery flapping, followed by a giant snort.
"Day shift's back," Charlie said. "Good, now you can have a look at Norbert - he's been behaving worst of all - Harry's been having a hell of a time."
"Then put him on another dragon!"
"He wants Norbert. I'm not a tyrant, you know - no more of your Howlers, thank you very much." Charlie took her cloak away and handed her a heavier one, made of dragon hide. "It's freezing cold out here," he said, helping her put it over her shoulders, and reaching for the clasps.
"I can do it," Ginny said automatically, but she didn't brush his hands away. "Percy used to do up my cloak," she murmured, remembering all the times he'd fussed over her in school.
Charlie gave a wistful smile, finished buttoning her up, and bussed her lightly on the top of her head. "Let's go meet the dragons, shall we? And you can... do whatever it is you do."
Ginny shoved down the fit of nerves that threatened to overtake her. She could do this. She had been practicing nonstop on all the house animals, and on all the magical creatures that Remus had managed to acquire. She could do this.
Charlie led her out of the tent and Ginny took an automatic step back - the newly landed dragon was very, very close; it gave a great roar and shot a bellowing wave of fire into the sky. A dozen keepers, all dressed in gear like Ginny's, surrounded the giant green animal and led it away. It snorted and stamped - it didn't look a bit happy, and neither did Mick O'Malley, who dropped to the ground to avoid being smashed by its tail as it stormed away.
"Viking's got a bit of a temper this afternoon," Mick said, getting to his feet and wiping his gloves on the front of his jacket as Ginny and Charlie walked into the clearing to meet him. "Hope we can get this all sorted out - hello, Ginny." He stuck out his hand, and Ginny shook it.
"You're the species specialist?"
"'S'right."
"And this is affecting all the breeds?" Ginny asked briskly. She had a list of necessary questions in her head, and she hoped she would remember to ask them all. She felt odd and vulnerable, as if at any moment they would all realize that she wasn't a professional at all, and that she had no idea what she was doing here.
Mick didn't seem to notice her insecurity. "Every dragon that flies full shifts has started to buck in midair, just recently. They're showing typical signs of physical pain, but we can't for the life of us work out where it's coming from, and Charlie's suggested it might be emotional distress." Mick rubbed his forehead. "I don't know if it's possible, but... it just might be. They're all giving us hell - the four Welsh Greens, the Fireball, and the Norwegian Ridgeback. I'd say the Fireball's feeling it least, and the Ridgeback's getting the worst of it. Let's back out of this area, Harry was right behind me and I don't want to get trampled by that crazy animal he's riding."
Ginny cringed inwardly at the thought of Harry on a maddened dragon; she shot Charlie a warning look, which he ignored. He grabbed her arm and marched her out of the clearing.
Seconds later there was another blast of fiery air, and a dragon even more enormous than the first one landed just beside them. Ginny clenched her fists so tightly that they hurt. Harry was sitting on top of the dragon, seeming very small as he pulled giant straps over his head and yanked his boots out of stirrups. He looked tense and exhausted. The keepers that had taken Viking to his enclosure were running back now, wands out, and it took every one of them to control Harry's dragon. Norbert raised his wings with a frustrated roar and brought them slamming down on either side of him; Harry shouted out and clutched at his harness. There was nothing holding him to the dragon's back any longer, and he fumbled for his Firebolt.
"I'm going to kill you, Charlie," Ginny said, her voice tight, hardly noticing that her brother had dived into the fray and was giving assistance to the other keepers. She couldn't tear her eyes away from Harry, who was still struggling not to plummet as Norbert brought his wings up and down once more with a mighty crash. The dragon breathed a harsh, streaming jet of fire at the nearest keeper, who barely managed to deflect it.
"Get that insane beast out of the clearing," someone ordered, from above. Ginny looked up to see Draco Malfoy, his wand touched to his throat, perched carelessly atop a Chinese Fireball and looking extremely put out. "My shift is over."
"You'll have to wait, Malfoy," Harry yelled irritably, not turning around. He had got his Firebolt free, and was finally climbing out of his harness. He was off the dragon's back in a matter of seconds, and Ginny only released her breath when both his feet were safely on the ground.
"Harry," she called out, not able to stop herself.
His head snapped toward her and he stood still.
"DOWN, HARRY!" Charlie yelled, and Ginny stifled a scream. Norbert had brought his tail around so quickly that she hadn't seen it coming - it was inches from slamming Harry's head - Harry dropped to the ground and flattened himself against it at the sound of Charlie's voice, and barely avoided being beaten to a pulp.
"He can't ride that dragon anymore," Ginny heard herself saying, hardly aware of her words. "Bring another one out here, this is ridiculous, this isn't safe -"
"That's why you're here, isn't it?" Harry had managed to scramble away from Norbert; he came to the edge of the landing area and stood several feet away from Ginny, breathing hard. "You're going to look at him, aren't you?"
It was a moment before Ginny could gather her thoughts. Harry was gray with fatigue; his skin was ashen and sweating, and his eyes were feverishly bright. All day, he had relived the cruelest moments of his past. She heard pleading voices swimming toward her; felt the aching waves of his disgust and fear. Her stomach began to tie in knots and she felt the overwhelming compulsion to go to him - to put her hands on him -
Block it, she heard Remus direct sternly, in the back of her mind. Block it. Block it.
It was excruciating, but she managed to drag an open corner of her mind shut again. "I'm... supposed to look at all the dragons," she answered slowly, and worked on reining in the rest of herself, a fraction at a time. In the near distance she could see Draco Malfoy's dragon landing, and the shouts of the keepers helped refocus her mind on her purpose. "I hope I'll be able to help."
"Just be careful." Harry's voice was low, and Ginny found it almost impossible to continue to block him now. Mixed with his unpleasant vibrations, she could feel another energy from him - one she didn't want to deflect. He really did care for her. Ginny had to look away.
"There are other trained dragons," she said. "Aren't there? Why don't they send for one? You shouldn't be on Norbert. He's not tame."
"Brilliant observation," came a cold voice from the clearing. Ginny turned toward it and narrowed her eyes. Malfoy was approaching them. He stopped just inches from Ginny, and she stiffened. "Is that what they brought you out here to tell us?" he asked sarcastically. "That Potter's dragon is deranged? What an astounding gift you have, Weasley."
"Shut up." Harry stepped up beside Ginny. She felt the sudden warmth of his defensiveness, and permitted herself a tiny smile before working to block it out. "You said your shift was over," Harry said, "so go home."
"If she's here to look at dragons," Malfoy returned, "then I'm not going anywhere until she's looked at Mordor."
"She has a name," Harry hissed.
"I understand that Mordor is less affected than the others," Ginny replied with pointed efficiency, hoping the fight wouldn't escalate. It wasn't worth it. "So I'll probably begin with Norbert, since he looks worst."
"Oh, of course," Malfoy said. He ran a gloved hand through his fine hair, and smirked at her. "Must take care of Potter."
Ginny didn't even flinch, and she congratulated herself for it. Things had certainly changed. "Yes, that's right," she returned, in a voice as cool as Malfoy's. "Excuse me." She swept past him towards Charlie, who was standing half-slumped and panting in the center of the landing area, watching as the keepers led Mordor away, with Mick at their head. "You okay?" she asked quietly, when she was close enough.
Charlie shrugged and straightened. "Could you tell anything?" he asked, in lieu of an answer. "Did you - get a vibe, or something?"
"What - from the dragons? No, I need to get closer to them, Charlie. They're huge. I can't tell anything standing down at their feet."
Charlie's eyebrows shot up. "You want to get closer?"
"I don't have a choice. I think I should start with Norbert - he's worst off, so he'll be the easiest to read. So just go on and stun him -"
"Stun him?" Charlie gave a tired laugh. "He's just flown for ten hours. He has to eat, he has to hydrate, he has to have a proper rest or he won't be any good to us tomorrow - I can't stun him."
"Well, which one can you stun then?"
"Of the full shift dragons? I can't stun any. You can stand outside the enclosures, and that's about it."
Ginny felt a thrill of fear. She hadn't expected that the dragons would be awake for their examinations. "Charlie, you don't understand. I can't feel anything from outside the enclosures. I have to be in range."
"Well, if you think I'm going to fly you up next to one of their heads, you can think again."
"I thought you were supposed to know how to do that!"
"I do. And I don't mind risking my neck. But I won't risk yours - not like that, not with how they've been behaving."
"Well, what am I wearing all of this for, then?" Ginny demanded, tugging at her protective gear.
Charlie shook his head. "Fireproof all the clothes you want, they'll still turn you to a crisp if you make a false move."
"They're unstable, Ginny."
She jumped. Harry had practically sneaked up behind her. "I have to get close," she pleaded, turning to him for support, "and I really want to get this over with. But Charlie won't take me up - will you do it?"
Harry glanced at Charlie before answering. "No. I don't think it's safe."
"Oh, this is just rich!" Ginny glowered from one to the other of them. "You -" she pointed at Charlie "- have been dragon keeping for ages, driving Mum wild with fear. And you -" she glared at Harry "- have been strapped to a mad dragon all day long. But it's not safe for me?" She shivered with anger, amazed that she could have felt, earlier, that she was being treated as an equal. She should have known better; when push came to shove, she was still considered a child. "Which of you is going to take me closer?"
Charlie and Harry exchanged another glance, and Harry shifted uncomfortably, but neither seemed inclined to change his mind.
"Is there a problem?" Malfoy called, from the edge of the clearing. When Ginny turned, she found him looking right at her. "Do you plan to do your job, Weasley, or are you going to be useless, like the rest of your -"
"Sod off," Charlie called back, before Malfoy could finish. "Nobody's interested in your opinion."
Malfoy walked slowly up to Charlie, still holding his broom, his riding gloves dangling from his other hand. "You should be," he said softly. "Unlike you, I have no need of a job."
Charlie and Harry both opened their mouths, looking ready to swear, but Malfoy cut them off.
"Insult me again, and I'll quit. I mean it." He raised an eyebrow. "Don't pretend you can replace me. You're having trouble finding riders."
Charlie made a growling sort of noise. Harry turned away.
"I asked what the problem was," Malfoy repeated, his voice icy. "Can someone explain why she -" he gestured to Ginny "- is standing around chatting while my dragon gets worse? I think you're aware of what I've invested to be sure of proper treatment for Mordor. Your specialists have spent all their time examining the Ridgeback - I want her to look at my dragon. Now."
"She's not looking at anything," Charlie seethed, "until we get things straightened out."
Malfoy turned his stare on Ginny. "What things?"
"Apparently it's unsafe," Ginny explained, clipping her words to let Harry and Charlie know just how she felt about it, "for me to examine the dragons while they're awake. I assumed they'd be stunned, but since that's not possible -"
"Of course you can examine them awake," Malfoy said with a snort.
"No. I can't do it from outside their stables. I need to get close to the -"
"I know what Healers do," said Malfoy in an impatient, patronizing tone of voice. "Go up and do it."
"She's not flying up on her own," Charlie said, looking outraged. "She's untrained."
"Then go with her. Honestly, must your decisions be supervised?" Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Why doesn't Potter take her?"
Charlie looked as if he wanted to say something truly rude, but he bit his tongue.
"It's not going to happen," Harry said flatly. "It's going to have to wait."
Malfoy gave Harry a lazy smile. "Scared of them?" he asked, and jerked his head toward the dragon enclosures. "Well, I'm not. And I'm not going to spend the evening here, while you play protect the girlfriend. I'll take her up." Malfoy pulled his riding gloves back on and mounted his broom. He fixed Ginny with a very unsettling look. "Get on."
Ginny hesitated. Her skin crawled at the very idea of being so near to Malfoy, for any reason. To trust him, after all he had done to hurt her family and friends, was pure foolishness. On the other hand... if no one else was going to give her the opportunity to do the job she'd been hired to do...
"Don't even try it, Malfoy." Harry's hand was very near his wand.
"Oh, just stop," Ginny burst suddenly, looking at him in annoyance. "I came out here to do a job, and I'm going to do it." She undid her cloak and handed it to a very surprised Charlie, got astride Malfoy's broom so that she sat in front of him, and clutched the handle with both her hands.
"Ginny, don't you -" Charlie started, but Ginny didn't hear the rest of it, nor did she have to stay on the ground long to endure the look of pure horror on Harry's face. Malfoy had reached around her, grabbed hold of the broom, and kicked off the ground at top speed. They were fifty feet in the air within seconds.
"Take me to Norbert first," Ginny yelled over her shoulder, trying to move forward as much as possible. A wave of something vicious and cold had surrounded her, and she realized that she was in Malfoy's aura. It was by far the most disturbing she had yet encountered. Malfoy had been through the same war as the rest of them... but in such a different manner. His energy was riddled with violence. Darkness. Ginny shuddered.
"No." Malfoy steered a straight course for his dragon's stable. "If Potter wants his dragon looked at, let him deal with it."
"I'm telling you," Ginny returned angrily, "that if Norbert feels the worst, I'll have the easiest time reading him. This has nothing to do with personal preference."
"Of course it doesn't." Malfoy did not change direction.
"The quicker I can work out what's wrong, the quicker your dragon will have a remedy," Ginny yelled over the rushing wind, "and I'm telling you for the last time, Malfoy, Norbert will be the quickest way to tell. I don't want to stay up here any longer than you do."
It was ridiculous. Like talking to a wall. Malfoy laughed softly, near her ear, and Ginny felt ill. Again she felt the icy rush of his hatred - his past. It was a past that included violence against the Grangers and violence against her brothers - there was real cruelty in his energy. And beneath that cruelty, threatening to swallow her like an undertow, there was sickening grief. Malfoy's whole aura twisted with a black, relentless suffering, and, quite against her will, Ginny found that she was raising her hands and turning towards him. Whatever tortured Malfoy, she was distraught to realize, she felt compelled to drive it out.
Block it. Ginny shook her head and straightened her spine. Remus's voice was suddenly strong in her mind again. Block it. He isn't there.
"Fine, Weasley, have it your way." Malfoy jerked the nose of the broom so violently that Ginny feared she would tumble from it, but he turned them toward Norbert's enclosure. "You better be right."
Malfoy flew fearlessly towards the dragon; it startled Ginny, who had expected less from him. "Don't get too close," she warned, when Malfoy made no sign of slowing down. They were twenty meters from Norbert's immense head.
"Nothing will happen," Malfoy said, speeding up.
"Don't get that close," Ginny repeated, yelping in terror and sliding back into Malfoy on instinct. They weren't ten feet from Norbert's sharp, bronze horns. His enormous right eye glinted madly. He turned his giant, scaly face towards them and opened his jaws - Ginny could see all his massive teeth - they were each the size of her hand - he must be about to breathe fire right at her -
Malfoy raised his hand, and Norbert's mouth closed at once. His head swiveled away.
"Back up!" Ginny shouted, terrified, elbowing at Malfoy to do something. This was lunacy. It was suicide to stay this close to a dragon. He must be trying to kill her.
"You're fine," Malfoy said, sounding bored. "He's not even looking at you. Stop kicking."
"We're too close - I mean it!" Ginny tried to steer the broom herself, but couldn't pry his hands from the handle.
"You Gryffindors are all talk." Malfoy gave a derisive laugh. "Frightened of a dragon."
"It's good sense to be frightened of some things - now back up -" She managed to get the broom to point left, and tried to fly it away from Norbert.
Malfoy jerked the broom back into place with a snarl. "Do you honestly think I'd risk my life just to scare you?" he asked, his voice suddenly very low. "Do you think for one second I'd bother putting you in danger? Not that I care if you burn to death, but I'm right next to you. I'd get burnt if you did. Think about it."
Ginny wanted to give him a nasty look, but she didn't dare take her eyes off the dragon. "And why should I trust you?" she demanded.
Malfoy sighed. "Just get to work, Weasley," he said. "This should be close enough."
Though her heart raced with fear, Ginny went hot in the face. "Don't order me," she retorted. "I work for the Ministry, not for you."
"I've paid the Ministry to look after Mordor," Malfoy said smoothly. "I've financed this visit of yours. So get to work."
It was hard to reach out her hands - she didn't want to be any closer to that dragon than was absolutely necessary - but Ginny did it. She closed her eyes and hoped it wouldn't be the end of her. For a minute she was too frightened to do anything but sit there, but finally she focused with every shred of her self-control, and to her shock, she connected. Norbert's aura was so powerful that she gasped.
"What?" Malfoy demanded.
Ginny ignored him. He didn't exist. She moved her hands through the great, warm barrier that was the dragon's natural shield. "That's beautiful," she murmured to herself.
"What?" Malfoy repeated, sounding even more irritated.
"We should check the eyes," Ginny answered, hanging on tightly to her tenuous connection with Norbert. "Is it safe to fly right in front of his face?"
Malfoy made an impatient noise, and flew directly before Norbert's snout. Ginny gulped anxiously and gazed into the dragon's yellow eyes, each of which was half as big as she was. But Norbert did not so much as snort as they approached, and Ginny felt oddly... safe. Slowly, she allowed Malfoy's energy to penetrate her senses again. She felt for his motives - searching for anticipation, for personal hatred, for intent to injure. When she sensed no danger, she closed off again - it was much easier this time - and opened up to Norbert. She concentrated, amazed at how simple it was for her to feel everything - her practice had really paid off.
"It's his eyes," she said aloud, when her palms skimmed across a troubled patch in the dragon's force field. Her fingers curled around tight, hot knots of energy, close to the corneas. "But it is physical," she mumbled to herself. "This is pain in the tissue. I thought they already had their eyes checked!"
"They did," Malfoy answered shortly.
"They need a more thorough examination," Ginny said. "I don't know how to fix this, but there's definitely a problem in his eyes - let me feel the rest of him and make sure it's just that."
Malfoy steered them around Norbert's enormous form; when they were directly over the dragon's harness, Ginny gasped.
"Stop - go lower."
Malfoy dropped into a hover over Norbert's back and Ginny shivered. It was cold here, right where Harry sat every day. Norbert's back ached - but this wasn't a muscular ache. This wasn't physical. This was almost like the waves she had felt from Harry, after his brushes with Dementors. This was like her own experience with Dementors, though, coming from the animal, it wasn't exactly emotional. And yet it was.
"Bizarre," she whispered. "It's in his back, but not in his tissue." Charlie had been right about the dragons after all. Ginny groaned inwardly at the idea of giving him more reasons to treat the beasts as if they were human... but it was amazing.
"Let her down, Malfoy."
Ginny's concentration broke at the sound of Harry's voice - she hadn't realized it, but she had expected him to come after her sooner. He was hovering alongside them, looking murderous, and Ginny felt a twinge of impatience.
"I'm fine, Harry," she began, but Harry didn't seem to hear her.
"I said land," he barked at Malfoy. His wand was out and his eyes flashed.
Malfoy gripped Ginny's waist, pulling her back against him. "She said she's fine, Potter," he drawled. "Get out of the way."
Ginny gasped and wrenched herself forward, but Malfoy didn't let go. Harry looked as if his head was about to explode; he raised his wand, and Ginny's heart fluttered at the open jealousy in his expression. She had never seen him look so much like Ron - like he might truly lose his temper. She was so strangely flattered that she didn't notice Norbert's head swinging towards them again until it was almost too late. The dragon's jaw opened wide and its teeth looked ready to snap Harry in two.
"DIVE!" Ginny screamed.
Harry dove. He flattened himself along his broom and just escaped being eaten - but not for long. Norbert let out a frightening, angry roar, and snapped at Harry again, while Ginny pulled her wand in a panic. She pointed it at Norbert but it was of no use - she had no idea what to do. Harry seemed to, however; he deflected an enormous jet of fire with what looked to be an invisible shield. A foot from his face, the fire met a wall and exploded before him.
"You'll have to land, Potter," Malfoy called out, sounding amused. "Seems you haven't got the right touch."
Harry maneuvered around the back of Norbert's head, but it was only a moment before the dragon twisted its neck and found him again. "Damn it!" he yelled in frustration. "Calm down!" But whatever he was doing with his wand meant nothing to Norbert, who was aggravated in the extreme.
"Land," Ginny begged, forgetting herself. "Go on, Harry, just land - don't hurt yourself."
He didn't listen.
"Land," Ginny ordered Malfoy, not bothering to hide her fear. Harry wouldn't go to the ground unless she did; she knew that. "Norbert's even worse now-" She cringed as a sheet of fire came at her, and screamed again at the sight of the dragon's head as it lunged for the broom.
Malfoy's body didn't even tense. He kept hold of Ginny with one hand and raised his wand with the other, deflecting the fire. He left his wand up for a long moment. As Ginny watched, Norbert calmed down and turned away again, suddenly docile. Harry hovered on the other side of the dragon, panting.
"What did you just do?" Harry yelled.
Ginny pulled Malfoy's hand from her stomach and threw it off.
Malfoy laughed, but didn't answer. In his energy, Ginny could feel a hot, thrilling sort of charge. Power.
"Why did you wait so long to do that?" Ginny demanded, trying to turn and face him. "Norbert could have killed Harry -"
"Like I care," Malfoy said, emphasizing each word.
Strangled with frustration, Ginny gave up. He was hopeless. She had to block him out, along with all his darkness, and ignore her own utter fright at being eye to eye with a meat-eating beast. She had to concentrate, regardless of Harry hovering in the air and Charlie shouting on the ground, and regardless of the fact that Malfoy's body was still touching hers. She was here to work. Ginny took a deep breath, gripped the broom with her knees and held out her hands, palms facing Norbert.
Malfoy grabbed her hard around the waist.
Ginny's concentration was instantly shattered. "Let go," she said furiously, squirming in his painful grasp. She caught Harry's eyes and the injured anger in his face made her feel guilty for no reason.
Malfoy was laughing again. "I'm not having some drama where you fall and have to be caught," he said quietly, pulling her tighter against him. "Don't flatter yourself that I get off on this..."
Ginny had the very distinct and disturbing feeling that he did - if only to torment Harry. Still, the very idea was disgusting and she realized that as long as she was on this broom with Malfoy, her concentration would be shot. She couldn't trust him - not now that he was on a mission to infuriate Harry. This wasn't going to work.
"Land," she said shortly. Malfoy didn't move the broom; Ginny pressed down on the nose but he was stronger and he held it in place. "Land," she said again, louder. "I'm finished for today."
"You haven't looked at Mordor."
"And I'm not going to until I have some proper working conditions. Take me down. Now."
Malfoy snorted. "Oh, I don't think so."
Harry flew up to Malfoy so that their brooms were nose to nose, and told him to land. He used several words that Ginny had rarely heard from him.
"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth, Potter?"
Ginny elbowed Malfoy in the gut. She didn't care that she was on his broom and at his mercy - feeling Malfoy's stomach contract and hearing him wheeze in pain was a satisfying victory. Ginny met Harry's eyes, and this time there was no anger in them. They shone fiercely at her.
"Come on," he muttered, pulling his broom alongside Malfoy's. Ginny didn't hesitate. She swung one leg over its handle, and pulled the other one off of Malfoy's broom before he had recovered enough to tighten his grip on her again. Harry clamped an arm around her and flew instantly higher, out of Malfoy's reach.
"Thanks."
Harry didn't answer but he moved his thumb against her stomach and rested his head against hers for a second. Before they landed, she could have sworn she'd felt his mouth on the back of her neck, even through her hair.
"Are you bloody insane?" Charlie was on top of her before they'd even dismounted. "What the -" Charlie's language was worse than Harry's and it took him longer to exhaust his colorful vocabulary.
When he'd finished, Ginny crossed her arms. "It's your fault for not taking me yourself," she hissed. "Dad's going to be really angry."
"You're damn right he is!" Charlie answered hotly. "With you! Getting on a broom with Malfoy after what we've bloody well -" And off he went again.
Ginny looked at Harry. "I'm going to take this off," she said, ignoring her brother, whose stream of curses had yet to die down. She tugged on her dragon vest. "Have a good shift, Charlie."
"Shift?" Charlie laughed. "Like I'm going anywhere other than Dad's office. He's going to know about this right now. Besides, I don't have to fly for another four hours."
"Fine. Tell him I want a proper escort next time. And a pay raise."
"Oh you won't be getting a pay raise." Malfoy's voice was hard and cold. He'd landed silently beside them and held his broom clenched in his fist. His eyes were ice gray and fixed on Ginny. "I'll report this charade to the Secretary Privy, Weasley, and you'll be fired before the end of the day. I don't care who your father thinks he is."
Charlie took a dangerous step towards Malfoy, and Harry blocked him. "Don't," Harry said, very low. "Not worth it."
"I'll see you at the Ministry then," Charlie snapped at Malfoy. He pulled his wand and Disapparated without another word.
Harry and Malfoy looked at each other for a moment that seemed to last forever. Ginny finally touched Harry's arm, and he jumped. "Let's go," she said.
Harry nodded.
"How sweet," Malfoy drawled behind them as they turned and went to the equipment tent. "Seems you can't do anything without a Weasley, Potter. Predictable that you ended up f-"
"Shh, don't," Ginny whispered, grabbing Harry's arm to stop him from launching himself back at Malfoy. "Not worth it."
Harry's jaw tightened, but he kept moving forward, past the clearing where the dragons had landed earlier. New ones were taking off now; one strapping older man was disappearing out across the water atop a Welsh Green as another climbed into his harness. A woman was already circling the far side of the island atop her dragon.
They headed into the deserted equipment tent. Ginny watched, impressed, as the three reserve riders flew around the prison and wondered if she might be able to persuade the female rider to take her up in the air.
"I want to go up to the Ministry," Harry muttered. He tore off his fireproof clothes and threw them in a locker. "I want to back Charlie up."
"You want to tell my dad I shouldn't come back here?"
Harry glanced at her. "I just want to make sure Malfoy doesn't skew the story."
"Then go. I'm going too, but it'll take me longer. I have to go back to Stornoway and then travel by Floo powder."
"Want me to go with you?"
It was obvious that he hoped she would say no. Ginny finished putting her things away and shut her locker. "No. Go ahead."
Harry exhaled. "All right." He looked at her, and his green eyes studied hers. "I should've taken you up," he said.
Ginny hesitated. She hadn't had a chance yet to get irritated with Harry for everything that had just happened, and she was pretty sure that she wanted to. But he did sound sorry.
"But you saw how Norbert is with me," Harry went on. "He couldn't care less about spells. I." Harry gave a frustrated laugh and looked away from her. "I don't know how Malfoy does it."
"Everyone has strengths." Ginny shrugged. "This must be his. Some people are just natural with dragons."
"Well I'm not." Harry looked defeated. He grabbed the bottom of his sweat- soaked T-shirt, glanced sideways at Ginny, and then yanked the T-shirt off so fast that he nearly lost his glasses. He fumbled to put on a clean one.
Ginny couldn't make herself look away. "True," she said soberly, watching him dress. "You're a real disappointment." Harry shot a frown at her before pulling on a jumper. "Oh, you're excellent with Defense Against the Dark Arts of course," Ginny continued, patting his arm when he got it into the sleeve, "and you're a brilliant Quidditch player. If only you were clever about dragons too, then perhaps everyone wouldn't think you were so useless." She feigned a sigh. "Such a pity you haven't got any talents."
He stared at her for a minute, and then a shy grin sneaked across his face. "Shut up."
Ginny grinned back. Harry had just leaned in and kissed her cheek, when a drawling voice made both their heads snap towards the door.
"Good Lord." Malfoy stood in the flap of the tent, unconcealed repulsion on his face. "Another breach of work ethics I'm sure the Secretary Privy will be thrilled to hear about." Malfoy went to his locker and tossed in his gear, and then swirled a heavy cloak around his shoulders. He clasped it shut. "I do hope that my report doesn't get you both sacked." With a twist of his wand, he was gone.
Ginny and Harry turned back to each other.
"There really isn't supposed to be dating, you know," said Harry, sounding a bit worried. "I think I signed something about that."
"Oh for heaven's sake, Harry," Ginny said with a snort. "We're not going to be sacked. Just go on and make sure Charlie doesn't act like an idiot, and I'll be there in a minute."
He went.
Alone in the tent, Ginny sat on a bench and looked around the place again. The dragon-riding world did not seem so impressive now as it had an hour ago; Ginny narrowed her eyes at a locker that bore the initials C.W. Charlie was being horrible. If he didn't want her getting help from Malfoy, then he should have helped her - she'd expected him to help her. Short of that, it would have been nice to have Harry's support, although, after last night, she hadn't been expecting it.
Ginny fought down a pang of real anger at Harry. He only wanted her to be safe. She shut her eyes and reminded herself that there had been a time when she had wished and dreamed that Harry Potter would care about her, and now he did. That was a good thing. But he was being selfish - he wanted her safe, but she wanted to work. He wasn't even trying to see what she wanted. And did he really expect her to stay home, when she had this opportunity to help? And she could help, she knew it. At least she could connect with the dragons. A few minutes with Norbert's energy had told her that.
She picked up her broom and hoped she'd remember the way back to Stornaway. Rain fell hard on the roof of the tent, but Ginny didn't care how wet she was going to get; she had to get to Diagon Alley. There were a few facts of which she wanted to make the Minister aware.
~*~
By the time Harry got to the top floor of the Ministry, shouting voices carried clearly out of Mr. Weasley's office and filled the stone corridor.
"And then he grabbed Ginny and wouldn't let her down -"
"This isn't a personal argument, Weasley. She acted of her own free will -"
Harry hurried to the office door and Lawrence let him in without a word. Mr. Weasley sat well back from his desk, looking from Charlie to Malfoy with obvious confusion on his face. When he saw Harry, he looked relieved. "Harry, come in. Will you explain what -"
"I'm telling you, Dad, it's not going to work! And I don't care what the hell Rose Brown says, and I'll tell her when she gets here that she's crazy if she thinks she and her Privy Council are going to convince me to risk the personal safety of -"
Malfoy fell into a chair and drummed his fingers in a bored fashion. He glanced at Harry. "Going to be an impartial witness, Potter, or are you here to do the innocent act?" he sneered softly behind Charlie's back, as Charlie continued to shout.
Harry gritted his teeth and looked away. He could still see the perverse smile Malfoy had flashed when he'd grabbed Ginny's waist and yanked her back into him. Sick bastard.
"Charlie - CHARLIE!" Mr. Weasley stood.
Panting, Charlie backed up and flopped into the chair beside Malfoy's. "Fine," he snapped. "Don't listen to me."
"I'm listening," Mr. Weasley said gravely, "but I need the story straight. Just details. Harry?" He sat down again.
"One minute -" The Secretary Privy swept in, pushing her glasses up with a prim finger and slapping down her clipboard. "I need to hear this." She stood at the edge of the Minister's desk and crossed her arms. "Harry?"
Harry looked from Malfoy's expectant sneer to Charlie's flushed and angry face, and tried to remember how it had started. "Ginny got there," he said, "and told us she'd have to get really close to the dragons in order to help them. She asked Charlie to stun -"
"Which we can't," Charlie interrupted, "or they'd be -"
"Charlie." Mr. Weasley gave him an exasperated look and glanced back at Harry. "Go on."
"She asked Charlie to stun the dragons so she could work on them, and Charlie said he couldn't."
"Why not?" Rose Brown demanded.
Charlie made a noise of pure frustration. "I just tried to TELL YOU -"
"Because they have to eat," Harry interrupted. "They have to hydrate, and then they have to get a proper night's rest or they'll be no good to us by morning. They can't do any of those things if they're Stunned."
Mr. Weasley nodded. "So then?"
"So then Ginny said she wanted one of us to take her closer." Harry felt Malfoy's eyes on him and made himself continue. "But Charlie and I didn't think that was a good idea."
"Why not?" Rose demanded once more.
"Because dragons BREATHE FIRE, for a start, Rose," Charlie shouted.
"You fly on them all day, don't you?" Rose snapped, sounding very like Ginny.
Harry sighed. "That's different," he told Mr. Weasley, hoping that at least one person would see the difference as he did. "We're on them all day, yes - on their backs. We're armed with spells that make it possible to deflect fire. We're in harnesses, which makes it much more difficult to get thrown than if we were on brooms -"
"I was thrown," said Malfoy.
"Mick was thrown," said Rose at the same time. "That is, Mr. O'Malley. And Mr. Malfoy - and Mr. Krum."
"I know that." Harry kept his eyes on Mr. Weasley's; this was his chance to make him see that sending Ginny up to Azkaban to fly near those dragons was ludicrous. "So think about how much easier it is to be thrown off a broom if you don't have a harness. She wanted to be flown right up to their heads, but no one can do that, those dragons."
"They're mad, Dad," Charlie put in. "Bonkers, the lot. Viking nearly took Mick's head off today with his tail -"
Rose gasped. "Have you brought in the replacement dragons?" she asked anxiously.
"Yes, but there're only two. They go in for Viktor Krum's ride. And Cho Chang's." Charlie looked at her stubbornly. "Mick can handle Viking, he's been riding him for two years."
"And I," said Malfoy coolly, rising from his chair and coming to stand beside Harry, "have had Mordor since childhood. Ability with the animals is not the issue - I have a gift." He tossed his pale hair and Harry felt a stab of annoyance. "Yet my dragon suffers. These conditions are unheard of, Weasley," he leveled his glare across the Minister's desk. "If you're going to play Minister, then at least attempt to stay impartial. If the Healer has no business being near the dragons, then you must find another solution. "
Malfoy sounded uncannily like his father, and Harry got a chill.
"The Healer," said Mr. Weasley very quietly, "is my daughter."
"A fact that bears little importance here." Malfoy looked at Rose. "Privy Brown?"
She glanced at Arthur. "That's true," she said, and looked back at Harry. "Did anything else happen?"
"Why yes it did," Malfoy began, before Harry could answer. "My part in the affair has been rather conveniently left out. After these two refused to take the Healer up to do her job, and seeing that she was incapable of going on her own, I took her myself."
Arthur Weasley worked his jaw and his fingers gripped the edge of his desk. Harry knew just how he felt. "Yourself?" Mr. Weasley repeated. "On your broom?"
"That's right."
"Charlie?" Mr. Weasley pinned his son with his eyes. "This is what happened?"
"She got on of her own free will," Malfoy said for the second time. "And she might have got some work done if the hero here-" he jabbed a thumb at Harry, "- hadn't interrupted our flight. Apparently I'm not to touch the Healer." Malfoy smirked. "Apparently it's Potter's job to molest her in the equipment tents, after hours."
Harry's face burned. "Shut your mouth, Malfoy. Mr. Weasley -"
"Calm down, Harry. Is that the end of the story, Mr. Malfoy?"
"Nearly. Potter took the Healer off of my broom and down to the ground -"
"She was fighting to get down! She told you to land!"
"And nothing was accomplished," Malfoy finished. "It was a waste of time, effort, and money. Mine."
No one had time to answer. The office door opened and Ginny stumbled through it, soaking wet and clutching her broom. "It's really chucking it down out there - what'd I miss?"
"Ginny, are you all right?" Mr. Weasley shot out of his chair and nearly pushed past Rose.
Ginny took a step back. "Of course I am, why wouldn't I be?" she snapped. "It's only rain."
"But with the dragons - with what happened -"
Malfoy gave a martyred sigh.
"We're discussing your usefulness at Azkaban, Miss Weasley," said Rose, picking up her clipboard and scribbling something. "Tell me, did you have a chance to do any work at all?"
"Not really." Ginny shoved her wet hair out of her face, pulled her wand and pointed it at her robes. "Sicco." She did the same thing to her hair. "Bloody rain. Anyway, no - I worked with Norbert for a few minutes, but I have no idea what's going on. I didn't get to stay in the air."
She looked really irritated. Harry watched her and tried to work out what was wrong. Perhaps the flight in the rain had put her in a bad mood; she hadn't been so angry when they'd been at Azkaban.
"Did you want to stay in the air, Ginny?" Mr. Weasley asked, adjusting his glasses and peering at her.
"Well -" Ginny glanced at Harry, then past him, at Malfoy. "Well, yes, actually, I did."
Harry's eyebrows shot up.
Malfoy laughed softly and sank back into his chair.
"I thought you wanted to get down," Harry said, turning to the door. Ginny stood against it with her arms crossed.
"Once you came up there I had to get down," she said, and looked at her father. "Norbert tried to kill Harry every time he flew close. It's terrible."
"Just Mr. Potter?" asked Rose. "What about Mr. Malfoy - did the dragon threaten him as well?"
Harry gave Ginny a warning look but she ignored him and answered Rose. "The dragon was not as aggressive towards Mr. Malfoy."
"It didn't attack him?"
"Not. until Harry came up."
Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"I'm afraid I don't understand, Miss Weasley." Rose tapped the nib of her quill on her clipboard. "If you were in the air with Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter's presence disturbed your process, then why didn't Mr. Potter simply land?"
Ginny looked dead at Harry, and he knew it was his answer to give. But he couldn't.
"Oh well, he's terribly valiant, you see," said Malfoy, sounding delighted. "He couldn't leave the girlfriend in the air with me, could he? Had to rescue her from my clutches." Malfoy laughed. "He refused to land until I had put her on the ground."
"Mr. Potter, is this true?" Rose asked incredulously. "Work is neither the time nor place -"
"To be fair," Ginny cut in, "Malfoy wouldn't put me on the ground when I asked. Harry thought I was in danger."
"But up until that point?" Rose insisted. "You said you did work for about a minute?"
"Yes. I did." Ginny refused to look at Harry now. "If I had a proper escort, I could really be of service."
"And how is Mr. Malfoy not a proper escort?"
Harry wanted to throw something heavy at Rose Brown. Was she being intentionally thick? She had to know that Draco Malfoy was a useless liar who couldn't be trusted.
"He." Ginny looked extremely uncomfortable. "I suppose he." She shot another glance over Harry's shoulder that deeply unsettled him - she was looking at Malfoy for answers? Harry had to look away. "He already has a job, doesn't he?" Ginny finished lamely. "He can hardly do two. But he did seem. at ease with the dragons, so if there's someone else like that in Romania, Charlie? Or someone that you know of who can get close to the dragons with me and -"
"There's no budget for it," Rose interrupted. "The Privy Council won't move another Galleon to this operation as long as it continues to malfunction; that's been made clear. Riders falling right and left - what's the point of sinking more money into it? It seems a waste to them. They're far more interested in devising another method of keeping the Dementors on the island than in continuing this --"
"Then EXPLAIN it to them better," Charlie snarled. "And no, Ginny, there isn't anyone I'd trust on a broom with you next to a dragon's head, not even me - and NOT -" Charlie pointed at Malfoy. "HIM."
"Mr. Weasley, kindly lower your voice," Rose hissed. "First of all, there will be no new escort, and there will be no more money. Secondly, I suggest you maintain a level of respect for your peers in this Ministry, and leave your personal feelings at home."
Charlie seethed.
"Thirdly, you would be fortunate to have Mr. Malfoy's help in this matter. Miss Weasley is quite right; he had no obligation to assist her today, and I certainly wouldn't expect him to continue, especially since it seems that the investment he has made to bring Miss Weasley here has been a fruitless one."
The smug noise that followed Rose's comments was enough to turn Harry's stomach. That anyone could consider, even for a second, putting Ginny on a broom with Malfoy, seemed to Harry a terrible crime.
Ginny, however, didn't seem to think it was. She was regarding Rose Brown with respect, and wouldn't return Harry's attempts to catch her eye.
Mr. Weasley returned to his desk and sagged into his chair. He looked up at Harry and shook his head. "This leaves us nowhere. We can't stun the dragons, we can't replace the dragons, and now we have a Healer, but no escort."
"No one's asked me."
Harry's stomach dropped into his feet. He looked at Malfoy, whose face had twisted with some sick pleasure.
"I won't make another donation to this department until my dragon's condition is remedied," Malfoy said, curling and uncurling his fingers on the arms of the chair and keeping his eyes on Harry's. "But I'll escort the Healer." He smiled widely. "It's the least I can do."
Harry had heard about seeing red, but this was the first time it had ever happened to him. He wanted to hex Malfoy or, better yet, punch him right in the face.
"Charlie - Harry!" A voice in the door distracted Harry; Mick O'Malley had run into the Minister's office, panting and beaming. He looked around and grinned. "Minister Weasley, Privy Brown- " He turned to Ginny. "What did you do up there? I didn't think you had the time to get your work done."
Ginny looked surprised. "I didn't. Why?"
"Because I've just come from checking up on Norbert and he's eating like a - well, like a dragon. It's the first time in a month I've seen him finish a meal."
"He's looking better?" Charlie said eagerly.
"No," Mick admitted. "But at least he's eating."
"And that's your doing, Ginny?" Rose Brown asked, raising her eyebrows and picking up her clipboard.
Ginny's eyes flickered to Harry, and away again. "I suppose it might be. I only had a minute, but I did get into his aura, so."
"It must've been you, Ginny," said Mick. "Will you keep working - will you have a look at Viking?"
"I. Dad, I really want to." Ginny looked at her father, obviously torn, but Harry couldn't feel sorry for her. "Please."
Mr. Weasley looked very tired. "And you'd. be willing to escort her, Mr. Malfoy?"
Malfoy stood. "Oh yes." He sounded amused. "I'll have to cut down my flights, of course. I don't plan to be at Azkaban for more than ten hours a day."
"Wait - what?" Mick looked from Mr. Weasley to Malfoy. "He's going to escort -"
"Yes, Mr. O'Malley, you missed that bit." Rose scribbled on her clipboard and pointed to Charlie with her quill. "Can the reserve schedules be adjusted to make up for Mr. Malfoy's flights?"
Charlie nodded, looking as tired as his father, and as angry as Harry felt.
"Well then, it's settled!" But Rose was alone in her enthusiasm. Everyone else in the office was silent.
"Yes." Mr. Weasley said eventually. "It seems it is. If you would all excuse me - I'd like a moment with Ginny to discuss her schoolwork."
Everyone filed out but Harry, who didn't want to leave. He felt he deserved a moment alone with Ginny too. Right now. But he couldn't say anything in front of Mr. Weasley and he wasn't sure what he had to say to Ginny anyway. She wasn't even looking at him.
"Go and get some sleep, Harry," Mr. Weasley said. "You'll see each other tomorrow."
Glad for the direction, Harry left the Ministry and Apparated directly to his bedroom, suddenly wanting nothing more than to be unconscious.
~*~
