Chapter Forty-One
The Ring
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A/N: Enormous thanks to Jedi B, Mistress of Malfoy, for channeling Draco for the sake of yet another scene. At least half his dialogue here belongs to her.
Arabella just watched "The Ring" and now wishes that this chapter wasn't titled that. She is shuddering right now.
This chapter was beta read by the following impossibly cool and incredibly lovely international super spies: Cap'n Kathy, Caroline, CoKerry, Firelox (who is here with us and would like everyone to know that with just a few more margaritas, she could think Draco was really hot) and Moey. We're deeply indebted to them for their continuing time and effort.
~*~
It wasn't until the next night that Ginny had an opportunity to talk to Ron. She needed more sleep, there were classes to catch up on, and Ron and Hermione were glued to the Grangers' bedsides. And so Ginny waited. She spoke with Remus, who listened and then gave her permission to visit Culparrat. It was a relief to have his support, but Ginny still had a knot in her stomach as she left Lupin Lodge and walked slowly down the road towards the Notch. Remus's permission was not going to be the most difficult to obtain. Not this time.
The Notch was bright and cheerful in the twilight, but as Ginny approached she heard passionate, angry shouts drifting towards the road from within. Ron and Harry sounded irate about something - she felt a thud in her stomach. She hoped it wasn't anything serious. She ran the rest of the way up to their house, hurried up the stairs and let herself in without knocking.
"WHAT ARE THEY TALKING ABOUT?" Ron was howling. "THAT'S NOT A FOUL, THAT'S PERFECTLY LEGAL, HE CAN BE BEHIND THE HOOP, HE JUST CAN'T BLOCK THE QUAFFLE FROM BACK THERE - IF HIS FOOT WAS IN FRONT OF THE HOOP, AND THAT'S WHAT BLOCKED THE QUAFFLE, THEN THAT'S ALLOWED!"
Ginny stopped running. Relieved that it was only Quidditch, she walked to the front room in time to see Ron collapse onto the floor, pounding his fists on either side of him, as Harry turned up the volume. The sight of Harry stopped her in the doorway, and she gazed at the back of him, her eyes lingering on his unkempt black hair and traveling down the lean breadth of his shoulders and back, taking in the fact that he was still damp from his shower. She wanted to walk up behind him and breathe him in. Kiss his neck.
"YOU'D THINK AN OFFICIAL BLOODY REF WOULD KNOW THE RULES! I CAN'T BELIEVE - THIS IS BOLLOCKS -" Ron's tirade disintegrated into nothing but swear words, and Ginny snapped out of her reverie. There wouldn't be any kissing just at present. She wasn't here to talk to Harry. Not first, anyway.
"Shut up a minute," Harry said, just loudly enough to be heard over the racket that Ron was making. "I want to hear what they're -"
"And Oliver Wood has called a time out. He's having a heated discussion with the referee - he's pulling a play book out of the referee's pocket and opening it - he's pointing to a page and shouting something -"
"GOOD!" Ron bellowed from the floor. "GIVE IT TO HIM, OLIVER!"
"Shush!" said Harry.
"And the referee is sending him off the pitch! And the referee is sprinting down the pitch - Oliver Wood is making a run for him - that's right, Oliver, swing at him! Damn it, he missed! And The Cannons' Beaters have made an emergency landing - they're pulling Wood back before he can make a woman out of that useless excuse for a ref - NO! Wood has been suspended from the game! The Cannons are already two goals behind and it seems they'll be playing without a Keeper for the duration of the match!"
Ron wailed miserably.
"It might be all right," said Harry stoutly. "If Knight gets the Snitch before another thirteen goals are made, then it won't mean a thing."
"What if Knight…" Ron began, but then he snorted and sat up. "Never mind," he said. "That's sort of like saying you wouldn't get it, isn't it? She'll get it all right. It had just better come out in time." Looking far more cheerful, Ron pushed himself to his feet and, for the first time, caught sight of Ginny. He looked startled. "Hi," he said, and glanced at Harry. "Er - haven't seen you over here in awhile." He seemed to remember something. "Hey, thanks for knocking, by the way, what if… well." He looked a bit pink. "You should knock."
"Yeah," Harry said, turning and catching her eyes for the first time. He looked drained and gray and horribly exhausted, but he shot her a tiny grin, and Ginny felt a wonderful glow all over, along with a rush of anxiety. She wanted to go to him - she needed to help him feel better - and she could do it now. Of course, she had promised Remus not to work on anyone, but perhaps for Harry...
"You should definitely knock," Harry went on. "You wouldn't want to see what I saw last night -"
"Potter," Ron growled.
"Oh, it's all right, I'm already scarred for life." Ginny smiled. "I walked in on Mum and Dad when I was seven."
Both Ron and Harry went silent and looked horrified, and Ginny took advantage of the pause.
"Ron, I need to talk to you in private."
Harry's expression shifted at once. He met her eyes over Ron's shoulder and gave her a bracing nod. Ginny licked her lips and squared her shoulders. She could do this. Ron had to say yes.
"I'm listening to the match," Ron complained. "It's the quarter final."
"It's about Malfoy's case," Ginny added. "About getting information on him?"
Ron's whole demeanor immediately changed; he didn't waste another moment. "Right." He pointed to the wireless. "Fill me in on what happened when I get back?" he asked Harry, and didn't wait for an answer before striding toward the front door. "Let's go for a walk," he said, and beckoned to Ginny.
She followed Ron outside. It was comfortably cool and had grown nearly dark. Someone was setting off fireworks down in the village; they erupted in the air and filled the distant sky with bursts of color.
"So." Ron rubbed his hands together as they began to walk towards the fireworks. "You and Harry are doing better?"
It wasn't the first question Ginny had expected, and she was thrown. "Er - yes. We… made up." It was a massive understatement.
"That's great." Ron slung an arm around her, squeezed, and let her go. In his aura, Ginny could sense something enormous - something unbearably happy. Something so ecstatic that she felt it before she could stop herself.
"Wow," she murmured. "Ron, what's up with you?"
He glanced at her, shrugged, and then grinned so brilliantly that his eyes crinkled up and nearly disappeared. "Oh, nothing," he said, and took a big breath that ended in a lovesick sort of sigh. "Just, you know. Having a good week."
"Did you win a million Galleons or something?"
He laughed. "Better," he said, but then he shook his head. "I can't say anything yet," he told her. "You can't ask or I'll want to tell, and I'm not allowed."
"When can I know?"
"When… Hermione's parents are able to communicate a bit better." Ron slung his arm around Ginny again and left it there as they continued walking. "You're a star, you know that?" He kissed the top of her head. "Waking them up. You're just…" He sighed. "Thank you. I don't know how to thank you. No one does, so you're just going to have to be satisfied that we're all in awe of you, all right?"
Ginny snickered.
"I'm serious! Now no more questions."
Ginny had just opened her mouth to ask for more clues, but she closed it. She wouldn't press him. She would show him how he should have behaved when she had told him that she had a secret.
"So tell me what you were saying about Malfoy," Ron said, letting go of her again.
Ginny gave him a sidelong, irritated look. But Ron seemed perfectly unaware that he was being hypocritical, and she sighed. There was no point in expecting him to consider Draco Malfoy rationally.
"I want to go to Culparrat and talk to him," Ginny said. "In private."
Ron glanced at her. "He's Stunned," he said, rather curtly. "And I thought you promised Remus you wouldn't do any more private Healing sessions."
"It's not to do Healing. And Remus knows," Ginny said. "And Malfoy… well, you know that there are things I can't tell you."
Ron snorted.
"I can't, Ron. It's not that I don't want to."
"Then you do know things."
"I… to be perfectly honest, I don't. I just have a vague idea." She gave Ron a pleading look. "But if you'll let me talk to Malfoy, perhaps I can convince him to let me tell you."
"Oh, you're going to get friendly information out of Malfoy?" Ron gave a mirthless laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure he'll cooperate."
"I know he won't. That's why I…" Ginny drew a deep breath. She knew that Ron was going to flatly deny her what she needed, but she had to ask. "I have to be able to bargain with him, Ron. I have to be able to… to tell him his sentence will be shortened, or that he can go free if he'll -"
Ron was already gaping at her in horror. "Are you mad?" he breathed. "Malfoy's never getting out of that place if I can help it - how could you want him to? You know what he's capable of -"
"It's not that I want him free, it's that I want him to do whatever he can to…" Stop the Dementors. But Ginny couldn't finish. It would have given information away. "Look. Just let me speak to him. I won't promise him anything. But give me a chance to talk to him, and let me see what I can do without making an offer like that."
Ron shook his head. "I don't want you dealing with him. He's completely belligerent."
"Oh, like I care."
"No, there has to be a loophole." Ron frowned. "Here - let me ask you a few other questions. And you'll have to answer these on the stand, eventually, so you might as well start preparing with me now."
Ginny blinked. "On the stand?" she said. "Why?"
"We'll call you as a witness. We have to make sure that the evidence we recovered from Malfoy Manor can't be suppressed in the hearing, and Malfoy's going to try and have it all thrown out."
"On what basis?" Ginny demanded.
"On the basis that you breached your contract, and that's how we knew where the trapdoor was, and where to look for the stuff. And that's going to be difficult to disprove."
Ginny rubbed her head. It was so much to think about. "How did you know where that trapdoor was, anyway?" she asked.
Ron shrugged. "I heard it somewhere - look. Answer me this. You signed a contract?"
"Yes."
"Who wrote it up?"
"Their family's Defender."
"What exactly did it say?"
"That I would go to Malfoy Manor and be paid to do work with Malfoy, and that I would reveal no part of what transpired between myself and Malfoy during the Healing session to any person."
Ron let out a breath. "And how much did he pay you?"
Ginny frowned. "Why is that important?"
"How much?" Ron repeated.
"Well, he…" Ginny raised her eyebrows. "He didn't pay me, actually. He tried, but I didn't take the money."
Ron stopped walking. "You didn't take the money?" he said urgently. "Nothing?"
Ginny stopped beside him. "Not a Knut," she declared, glad to be able to say it. Whatever bad decisions she had made, she had not taken any of the Malfoy money.
"Ginny…" Ron turned and grabbed her by the shoulders, grinning as if he'd just won a chess match. "You know what this means? Your contract with him is null and void. It's meaningless. You don't have to honor it."
Ginny felt a heavy, sinking feeling in her stomach. "I - I don't?" she repeated anxiously.
"No! This is great! They won't be able to throw out a single piece of that evidence - and now you can tell me anything you want - so go on, what is it, what was he doing up there at Azkaban? What's your theory?"
Ginny took a step back, and Ron's hands fell from her shoulders. "I… can't tell you," she said hesitantly. "I still don't feel… I know it's not on paper, but even so, it's…"
"Ginny," Ron warned. "I'm telling you, you don't have a leg to stand on with that self-imposed oath crap. I can get it out of you, I can make it so you're required by law to -"
"Then you'll have to do that." Ginny turned and began to walk very quickly back to the Notch. This wasn't what she had anticipated at all.
"Ginny," Ron called, and hurried to catch up with her. "How can you stand up for Malfoy if what you know might help everyone you care about? How?"
"I'm not standing up for Malfoy!" Ginny shouted, and walked even faster. "It's not about him, it's about me. I care about the oath I made. Money has nothing to do with it."
"Wait up - damn it, Ginny, come on -"
*
Harry could hear Ron and Ginny approaching the Notch, but he wished he couldn't. They were arguing. He hadn't really expected their conversation to go smoothly, but he had hoped that it would - he was tired of arguments. He was tired in general. Hermione had stopped by almost immediately after Ron and Ginny had walked out. They had been sitting in front of the fire and chatting for a quarter of an hour, and Harry had hoped that, when Ron and Ginny got back from their walk, the four of them could just sit around and have an hour of peace.
But when Ginny flung open the door and marched inside looking self-righteous, and Ron followed looking fit to kill, Harry knew they were all in for a difficult evening - or at least not a pleasant one. He braced himself.
"Oh, Ginny." Hermione jumped up at once and nearly flew across the room to hug her. She seemed oblivious to Ginny's irritated state, and she held her so tightly that Ginny's eyes widened over Hermione's shoulder, and she gasped for breath. "You did it," Hermione was mumbling. "You did it, and I didn't even thank you, I'm so sorry, but I was delirious - you're brilliant. I'll never know how to thank you."
Harry felt a rush of pride. She was brilliant.
"You did it too," Ginny said. "I couldn't have helped if you hadn't built that spell." She squeezed Hermione for a moment before letting go.
Hermione stepped back, swiping at her eyes. "I was just there," she said, sniffling happily. "At St. Mungo's. I was telling Harry. My parents have been moved to another wing, and the mediwizards are already working on their muscles - and there's someone else who's going to work with them on speech."
"That's great," Ginny said calmly, though her cheeks were very pink and her mouth was pursed. She shot a sideways glare at Ron before returning her attention to Hermione. "I hope they recover quickly - I'll keep visiting them."
"Thank you. Mum was trying to move her mouth already today. I can't wait to hear her voice." Hermione shone around the room at all of them, but when her eyes landed on Ron, she frowned slightly. "What's wrong?" she asked.
The room went quiet.
"They were just trying to work out something for Malfoy's case," Harry offered, when no one else explained. "Trying to find a way to get information out of him."
"We found one," Ron said heatedly. "If she'd just tell me."
"She signed a contract -" Harry and Hermione began together.
"She doesn't have to honor that!" Ron said. "Malfoy never paid her! And she still won't tell me what she knows, even though she's legally allowed to."
"Could you not talk about me like I'm not here?" Ginny snapped, rubbing her temples.
Harry didn't want to be involved in the argument - but he had to ask. "You can tell Ron what you know?" he said warily, turning a bit on the couch to look up at Ginny. "Malfoy didn't pay you, is that true?"
"But I want to keep my oath." Ginny rounded on Ron and glared at him. "Ever heard of an oath, Ron? It's like a vow. It's something you keep." She let out a disgusted breath. "You'd better never marry him, Hermione," she muttered. "Or if you do, you'd better get it all on paper."
Hermione went pink and gave Ron a startled, round-eyed look. Ron looked back at her and shook his head vehemently. "I didn't!" he said. "I promise!"
"Be quiet!" Hermione hissed.
Harry had no idea what they were on about. He tried to catch Ginny's eye, but she was ranting again.
"He's being the stubborn one," Ginny said. "He won't let me go to Culparrat and speak to Malfoy, which is all I asked to do -"
"I'm going to get a court order that says you have to break your oath and tell me what you know," Ron said, wagging a finger at her. "I can do that, and I will do that -"
"And what if I still won't say anything?" Ginny shouted suddenly. "Are you going to put me in Culparrat? Force me to take Veritaserum?"
"If that's what it takes!" Ron shouted back, and the two of them glowered at each other.
"Erm, Ron…" Hermione said hesitantly, giving his arm a very ginger pat, "perhaps we should all sit down and talk about th-"
"She might be able to help you, Harry," Ron interrupted, making Hermione stop in mid-sentence and glare at him. "And she could help our dad," Ron went on, counting off on his fingers, "and the Ministry, and all the dragon riders, and she's just being -"
"Unprofessional, he called me," spat Ginny, looking truly furious. "Well, who's unprofessional now, Ron? You're using everyone we know as leverage to try and make me talk, how professional does that make you?"
Hermione glanced at Harry, then backed away from Ginny and Ron and took a chair by the fire as they closed in on each other behind the sofa, looking murderous.
"You're helping Malfoy," Ron seethed.
"And I should help you? I'm sorry, but you're being such a prat that I don't really feel like it!"
"Unprofessional!" Ron shouted. "Right there!"
Ginny's fists clenched, and for a moment, Harry thought that she was going to rear back and punch her brother right in the face. "Well according to you I'm not a professional," she finally managed. "Just the other day you said I wasn't licensed, or part of any legally recognized body, so how about you make up your mind?"
Ron's fists were clenched too. Harry wasn't sure what he would do if the two of them really went at it - whose side he would take, or if he would even take one. Did brothers and sisters punch each other? He'd never seen any of the Weasleys do it, but Ron and Ginny looked so angry that he simply wasn't sure.
"You're acting like a spoiled little baby," Ron snapped.
Ginny went bright red, and Harry knew why. She hated being called a baby. "And you're acting like putting Malfoy in prison should be everyone's number one priority!" she snapped back. "As if nothing else matters just because you hate him! Why don't you stop being so bloody vindictive for a minute and take the whole picture into account?"
Ron's jaw dropped and his ears flushed. "Just being vindictive, am I?" he asked softly, and somehow he sounded much more frightening that way. "Just putting him in prison over a Hogwarts grudge, is that what you think?"
Ginny didn't answer, but the insolent raise of her chin was enough.
"Forgotten all about the things he's done, have you?" Ron's voice was still unnervingly quiet. "Forgotten about last June, and about the Grangers -"
Hermione had been looking from Ginny to Ron and back again, anxiously biting her lips together. But at the mention of her parents she went very still in her chair. She opened her mouth as if to defend Ginny, but never got the words out.
"Don't you dare," Ginny cut in, her voice shaking. "Don't you dare say I don't remember those things. I know all of it. I know he's horrible, I know what his father did to you, and to me - to all of us - don't you tell me I don't know."
Harry felt a chill. It was rare that he even allowed himself to think about Ron's kidnapping, or about the fact that Lucius Malfoy had nearly killed Ginny on the battlefield at Hogwarts, just last June. He would not contemplate the myriad times that he might have lost either of them. Would not do it.
"But Draco isn't the same person as his father -" Ginny continued.
Ron gave an inelegant snort. "Draco," he muttered. "On a first name basis now, the two of you? How sweet."
Ginny's eyes flitted to Harry and he instantly looked down. He couldn't bear to look at her and remember that he had accused her about Malfoy in much the same way. He couldn't believe he had done that.
"Ron," Hermione said very quietly, "don't say things like that. You know she remembers. She just did something amazing for my parents, and she's only trying to help you."
Her reproach seemed to take the edge off Ron's fury - he blew out a breath and crossed his arms, but Harry thought could read a little bit of guilt in his face.
It was a moment before Ron spoke. "Even if Malfoy hasn't committed as many crimes as his father," he demanded, "how can you want to give him a bargain that lets him go free?" He looked at Ginny, uncrossed his arms, and gestured for an answer. "How? You know he's not innocent of Unforgivables - he can't be. And of all the people to pardon, he just doesn't deserve -"
"I told you," Ginny said, enunciating every word as though Ron were either very young or extremely stupid. "I don't want him free, but I wonder if there might be a good enough reason to give him that bargain. All I want is to ask him some questions and try to work out what he knows and what he's willing to do."
"Willing? Right." Ron sighed in disgust and turned away from Ginny. He went to the chess table, grabbed a chair, thunked it down in front of the fire beside Hermione, and straddled it. "Look," he said, crossing his arms on the back, "you're not going to get anything out of him. He's a total wanker and he always has been, so you might as well just skip a step and tell me what you know now, or wait until you get ordered by the Ministry and then tell me what you know."
Ginny leaned her hands on the back of the sofa; her hair swung forward and brushed Harry's shoulder. "Well, just let me talk to him before you do that, would you?"
"There's no point."
"Yes there bloody well is!" Ginny smacked the top of the cushion just behind Harry's head; he jumped in surprise and glanced warily over his shoulder. He'd never seen her quite like this, and he wasn't sure what to make of it. He only knew he never wanted her to glare at him the way she was glaring at Ron right now.
"Explain it, then," Ron demanded.
"I CAN'T!" Ginny shouted. "I can't explain myself completely without giving something away, haven't you heard a word I've said? Why can't you just let me talk to him? What do I have to say to you? Why don't you trust me?"
"Oh, here we go with the drama…" Ron rolled his eyes. "Just like Mum, honestly."
Ginny clenched her fists so tightly that the knuckles went white. She came around the couch towards Ron's chair, and Harry again had the feeling that she was going to strike. He felt very uncomfortable - he didn't want to see them fight. Harry had been close to the Weasleys for a long, long time, but he didn't think that he would ever really understand siblings - they loved each other so much, yet turned on each other so quickly, and then they made up without any hesitation… it was too strange.
"You know, Ron," Hermione said thoughtfully, cutting short whatever Ginny had been about to do, "she might be able to get Malfoy to tell you something. She's worked on him, after all, and it says in her textbook that Healers create strong bonds between their patients and themselves, even under the worst circumstances. It might actually be better for you if she spoke to him first."
Ron opened his mouth. He seemed to be trying to think of an argument. He narrowed his eyes up at Ginny. "If you were to speak to him, you'd have to tell me every single thing you found out."
Ginny put her hands on her hips. "No," she said at once. "I wouldn't. The kinds of things I feel when I work on people are extremely private. You know you wouldn't like it if I repeated things I knew about you."
Hermione blinked at her. "You've worked on Ron?" she said.
"No," Ginny said, but she dropped her hands from her hips and clasped them tightly behind her back, and Harry thought she might be lying. "But if I had, he wouldn't like it."
Ron looked uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat. "It's - it's not the same," he said desperately. "I'm not hiding things that might really hurt people, but he might be. And if he is, then that means you are - Ginny, you realize that mediwizards are required to break their oaths for certain reasons, don't you?" He watched her for a moment, and when Ginny looked honestly surprised, he pressed on. "Life-threatening information can be revealed, you know that, don't you? Mediwizards have been kicked off the board for keeping their oaths in certain situations - I have the research in my room."
Ginny was rubbing her head. She seemed utterly confused.
"I don't know," she muttered. "I don't know if he can even do anything, it's just a feeling, it's not… Harry." She said his name with sudden determination, turned swiftly and looked down at him.
Harry raised his eyebrows and waited, apprehensive. "Yeah?"
"What do you think I should do?"
Harry swallowed hard. She was obviously still angry - and she obviously wanted him to back her up, but he wasn't sure that he could do it. His heart beat quickly and he searched himself for the right response. He wanted her to tell Ron what she knew, but he wanted her to keep her word… he wanted Malfoy to stay in prison, but he wanted Malfoy to come back to Azkaban and get the Dementors back in order, if indeed he could… But what was the right thing?
"Would you feel better if you spoke to Malfoy first?" Harry ventured, after what felt like several minutes.
"First?" Ginny repeated dangerously. "Before doing what?"
Harry steeled himself. He didn't think she was going to like this part of the answer. "Before… going ahead and telling Ron what you know, or what you think you know."
Ginny paled slightly. "You think I should do that, then?"
"I think… yeah. I think you probably should."
Ginny went quiet. She sat back and looked rather helplessly down at her hands. Her sudden silence surprised Harry, who had anticipated that she would turn her fury on him next. But instead she looked at the backs of her fingers, then turned her hands over and gazed meditatively at her palms.
"I suppose," she began. "I suppose if… if it's illegal to hold back in life-threatening situations… then I should say something. I didn't realize… But Harry, if you think I really should…"
Ron made a noise of annoyance. "Oh, she'll listen to him," he muttered. "That's nice."
"Shh," said Hermione.
Ginny glanced up at Ron, but there was no anger left in her face. "I just don't want to break my word," she said simply. "It makes me feel terrible." She looked at Harry. "I'm not trying to be stubborn, or make things harder on you and Charlie and Dad… I'm just trying to sort this out," she said. "You know how much I want to help you."
A lovely warmth began in Harry's toes and traveled all the way up to his head. The way she was looking at him made him want to kiss her. He knew that she wanted to help him - knew she loved him - and it made all the difference in the world. He wanted to help her just as much. Loved her just as much. It was strange to know that so clearly - but he knew it.
"Let her talk to Malfoy first," Harry said, wrenching his eyes from Ginny and looking at Ron instead. "There's no reason why she can't."
Ron narrowed his eyes and looked from Harry to Ginny, then shook his head and let out a long-suffering sigh. "Oh fine," he said. "Have it your way. I'm telling you he's not going to say anything, it's just going to be a waste of time - but we'll get him Ennervated for you if you want to talk to him so much."
"When?" Ginny asked at once. "I want to do it soon - can I go first thing on Monday?"
"Yeah, that's fine." Ron sighed again. "But you'll need an escort and I can't be there, I have too much to do."
Harry wished he didn't have to go to work. He wanted to be the one to help her, and he didn't trust some random Auror to do it. Moody would be all right, he supposed, but still, he wanted to be there to make sure there wasn't any trouble.
"I can go back to Culparrat on Monday," said Hermione. "And Penny and Fleur and Bill will be there - we're still working on the Enchantment and I wasn't planning to go back yet, but I have taken two days off and they might need me. I'll go with you, Ginny."
Harry felt much better.
"Actually," Ginny said slowly, frowning, "Bill might be the best one for it. Just because I might have a question about… something. And he'd be the right one to answer it."
Hermione looked a bit miffed.
"I'm sure you could answer it too," Ginny said quickly. "But he's got field experience."
"Don't get in a snit," Ron said, nudging Hermione with his elbow and looking more relaxed. "You won't want to help her anyway, you'll have your elves to boss around."
Harry shook his head - he had been right. It really was amazing how quickly Ron could recover from a fight.
Hermione's eyes opened wide in indignation. "They are not my elves!" she said at once. "And I don't boss them around!"
"Admit it. You tell them right where to go, and they love it."
"That's not funny, Ron. They've been oppressed, and if they like to be told what to do it's only because of centuries of horrible conditioning, and I never play into that, I'm very careful to consult them -"
Ron snickered and threw his arm around her. "Come here, you lunatic," he muttered, and pulled her chair closer to him with a heave of his arm. "You know I love the elves. No, I really do, I love them. In fact, I think I want one."
Hermione gasped and turned on him, but Ron clapped a hand over her mouth.
"Is everyone happy now?" he demanded, and when there was no answer, he let go of Hermione and gave a satisfied nod. "Good. Back to the match then - is it still on, Harry?"
Harry had been waiting for that question since five minutes after Ron and Ginny had left the house. "No," he said quickly. "It's all over. Sorry - forgot to tell you. It ended while you were out walking."
Ron was very still for a long time. After what seemed like an age, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "The… the semifinals are next week, then?" he asked. His fingers were so tight on the back of his chair that Harry thought he might break the wood. "We know who's going?"
"Yeah," Harry said.
"And… who's going?"
"The Bats, Puddlemere, the Falcons and - well." Harry stopped and shrugged and tried to look sorry. But he could hardly keep a straight face - he knew he wasn't going to be able to get the rest of it out without breaking up - he shot Hermione a panicked look, trying to signal her to take over.
"Spit it out, Potter," Ron said between gritted teeth. "Did. They. Win."
Harry ducked his head. He was going to laugh.
"They did really well until the end, Ron," Hermione cut in smoothly, her voice apologetic. "I listened to the last of it with Harry - the Cannons had a great season. No one can say they didn't compete for it this year, and I'm sure Oliver's pleased that he turned the team around the way he did. They'll only improve next year, after all, and won't that be nice?"
Harry was impressed. Hermione hadn't even batted an eyelash.
Ron, on the other hand, looked as though he had just been told that the sun would never rise again. "They… they lost?" he asked blankly. His shoulders sagged. "They lost the match?" He gazed at Hermione. "They were so close," he said. "So close."
"It's all right." Hermione patted his shoulder. "It's only Quidditch."
Ron gave her a look of such horror that Harry laughed out loud, and Ron immediately turned the horrified look on him.
"This is funny?" Ron demanded. "You can laugh?"
"Well, they played really well," Harry managed. "Really well, right up to the end. I think it's, you know. Worth celebrating." He snickered uncontrollably, and couldn't get himself back together. "You have to, Hermione," he gasped. "I can't."
Ron turned on Hermione. "Have to what?" he said angrily. "Look, someone had better tell me what the hell is going on, so that I can go down to the pub and order a bottle of Firewhiskey -"
"There's no need for that," Hermione said, patting his shoulder. "Why can't you just be happy that they did really well until the end? All the way until the end, when Knight caught the Snitch."
Ron blinked. He frowned. He tilted his head to one side. "When Knight…" he repeated, as if it were another language altogether.
"They'll be the fourth team in the semis, honestly, I can't see why you're so upset -"
But Harry could no longer hear Hermione. Ron shouted like a maniac, stumbled out of his chair and flung both his arms over his head, nearly knocking Hermione and her chair to the floor.
"YES!" he cried. "I KNEW IT! AND THEY'RE GOING TO TAKE THE SEMIS, TOO - WHO ARE THEY PLAYING - IT'LL BE THE BATS - I CAN'T BLOODY BELIEVE THIS - AND HERE I THOUGHT I'D MISSED THEIR LAST MATCH OF THE SEASON - OH I'LL BE AT THE NEXT TWO - AND THERE WILL BE TWO -"
Hermione clapped her hands over her ears.
"That wasn't very nice," Ginny whispered. Her breath caught in Harry's ear and made him shiver. "You had him really scared there for a minute."
"He loves it," Harry whispered back. "Look at him."
Ron had pulled Hermione out of her chair and was trying to dance her around in circles. She was resisting. "I don't like the Cannons anymore," she was saying, pushing him off. "You went and gave me that shirt and ruined them for me -"
"Ruined them?" Ron stopped trying to dance. He pulled back, looking wounded, and Hermione dropped her haughty attitude at once.
"No, no, I'm teasing," she said, pulling Ron close again and kissing his chin. "Only teasing, I promise, of course you didn't ruin them, you made them better."
Ron looked only partly mollified, but Hermione continued to praise the Cannons to the skies - something Harry was sure he had never heard her do before - until Ron finally grinned again and kissed her with considerable force. Harry looked away a second too late. It wasn't that he minded, exactly, but he wasn't sure they'd ever been so energetic about it in front of him. He wondered what had got into them - especially Hermione. She couldn't be in her right mind.
"Get a room," Ginny muttered.
Harry snorted. And suddenly he became aware of Ginny's freckled, white hand in his. She had pushed her fingers between his own and was running her thumb up and down the side of his index finger, sending chills up his arm. It had been nearly two days since he'd had her alone and he wanted her alone again. Right now. But he wasn't sure how to ask.
"Do you want to… walk me home?" Ginny suddenly whispered in his ear. "Because I should go to bed soon."
Harry's heart gave a nice hard knock. "I'll walk you," he said under his breath, glad that she had given him an in. Together they stood up and slipped past Ron and Hermione, who were very nearly cooing at each other and didn't seem to notice them leaving at all.
"Bye," Hermione said absently, just before the door shut behind them.
The moment they were safely outside, Ginny burst out laughing. "What is wrong with them?" she asked, tucking her arm into Harry's. "I've never seen Hermione quite so… erm…"
"Open?" Harry suggested.
"That's one word for it," Ginny said, and sniggered. "They're a pair, aren't they? Ron's a complete mental case - I almost punched him in there, honestly. I can't imagine what you had to put up with in school."
Harry grinned and leaned on her as they walked up the road toward Lupin Lodge. The sky was dark and the moon was waning, and it was peaceful just to be with her, away from light and noise and fighting, away from dragons and prisons and Dementors. There was just Ginny, and the way she made him feel now that things were right again. He felt strong and whole. Far less exhausted. Like he could face anything. Like he really was Harry Potter.
"Are you tired?" she said, as they wandered to a stop in the front garden. She turned to him and softly brushed back his fringe as he took her waist in his hands. The apples of her cheeks were pale under the moon, and scattered with freckles, and her hair made a frame around her uplifted face. "Do you feel all right?" She laid the back of her hand to his forehead, and then to his cheek.
"Can't you tell?" Harry asked, surprised.
"If I want to," Ginny said. She dropped her hand to his shoulder and idly began to smooth his T-shirt. "But I don't want to pry."
"It's not prying," Harry said at once. "Honestly - I don't mind that you can just… tell things."
Ginny considered him for a moment. And then she closed her eyes and tilted up her chin, and a tiny crease appeared along her forehead. Harry wondered what she was feeling - whether she could tell how desperately he wanted to kiss her - whether she knew that he wished he could think of a good excuse to come upstairs and sleep beside her again.
"Oh, Harry," she murmured. "How do you even stay awake up there?"
She must have been feeling his day at Azkaban. "I don't know," he answered.
She opened her eyes and looked at him, and there was worry written in her face. "You'll… think I'm horrible," she said. "But I have to tell you the truth."
Harry felt a stab of anxiety. "Yes?"
"It's just…" Ginny looked away. "I probably wouldn't agree to tell Ron anything if I didn't think it could help you," she said. "I know that's wrong."
Harry stared at her. "I'm… going to think you're horrible for that?" he asked.
"I'm not sticking to my word," Ginny said, looking even more distressed. She still wouldn't meet his eyes. "What kind of person does that make me? I just don't want you hurt, and I don't want you so tired, and if there's anything he can do, then I want him to do it. But it's not right to give in just because of that."
"You're not giving in," Harry said, holding her waist more tightly in his hands and trying to get her to turn to him. "There are plenty of reasons. First, like Ron said, it's illegal for you to keep life-threatening secrets. Second, he's going to get it out of you anyway - if you weren't paid, then that's an end to it."
"I know." Ginny shook her head. "But I would have held out until then, and I just… I can't like myself if I can't keep my word. It's weak."
"Stop. You're going to speak to Malfoy first, which is more than he deserves." Harry took her chin in one hand and made her look at him. She met his eyes with her worried brown ones, and nodded.
"I know."
"And it's not like you made the decision lightly. You're still worrying about it, listen to you."
Ginny smiled slightly. "I know."
"And…" Harry shrugged and ran his thumb along her cheek. "I don't know. I think it's all right to…" He couldn't quite look at her. "To help the people you love," he mumbled quickly.
It wasn't long before he felt Ginny's lips gliding softly along his jaw, toward his chin. "Okay," she said quietly, and kissed his mouth. The kiss was gentle and chaste, and followed by a wonderful, necessary hug - she slipped her arms around him and Harry held her close, amazed by how well she fitted against his body, and how at rest he felt with his head on her shoulder. They breathed together in the garden for a long time.
"You're exhausted," she said eventually, her voice muffled in his shoulder. "You should go to bed."
With you. Say I can stay with you. Harry felt it as hard as he could, and silently begged her to pick up on it. I need to stay with you…
Ginny's face grew hot beside his, and her fingers clenched on the back of his T-shirt. "H-Harry…" she faltered.
"Yeah?" he rasped, and went just as hot as she was. His voice was too obvious.
"Do you…" She swallowed, and he heard it in his head. "Do you want to… erm…"
He held tight to her and waited. Say it. Ask me. He wished that he could say it, but his bravery did not stretch that far. It had been so much easier the other night, when necessity had led him to her room and her incoherent pleas had kept him there. But Harry didn't know how to conjure another such moment out of thin air. A spell for that would have been useful.
"Stay?" It was one word, and very faint. But Ginny had spoken it, her hands sliding down his arms to grip his hands.
Every hair on Harry's body stood on end. "You -" his voice cracked and he buried his face in her shoulder. "You don't mind?"
Ginny shook her head. "I'll… always want you to stay," she whispered quickly, making Harry burn all over. "But you don't have pajamas and a toothbrush and -"
"I'll get them." Harry let go of her and pulled away to find that she was very pink, even in the darkness of the garden. It was somehow pleasing to know that she still blushed because of him. "I'll be right back."
"Come straight to my room," Ginny said. "Apparate in. I don't want Remus or Sirius to know that -"
"No, no, me neither." Harry couldn't imagine. "Just give me five minutes, all right?"
Ginny nodded. And then, before he could draw his wand, she abruptly took his face in her hands and gave him such an unbelievable kiss that he couldn't remember who he was. He could hardly keep his balance. He was reeling. She was brilliant. Brilliant. The thought of being without her for two months was so painful that he wasn't quite sure how he had just lived through it. He didn't even want to think about it. He just never wanted it to happen again.
"Oh, Harry," she breathed against his lips, when she had finished. "Harry…" Her fingers trailed down both sides of his face. She bumped her mouth to his again, just briefly - catching his bottom lip with hers and making him wonder if he was going to get any sleep at all. Perhaps this was a really bad idea - not that he was ever going to change his mind. He couldn't do much with his mind at the moment. It had spun out of control.
"Give me ten minutes?" she said. "I have to - to put on my nightdress and - and actually, can you give me twenty minutes?"
Harry nodded. He would have agreed to anything.
Ginny slipped away from him and disappeared into the house with a lingering look over her shoulder before Harry could even draw his wand. He stood staring at the door for a long time before he remembered himself and went home to get his things - and to let Ron and Hermione see him there, so that Ron wouldn't realize he was gone - and to very quietly tell Hermione, though he couldn't make eye contact while he did it, that perhaps she ought to stay the night at the Notch.
~*~
"That's it… that's it… one more step… oh, Leo, you made it!"
Penelope caught her son up in her arms, fell back in the sand and kissed him absolutely breathless. He could walk. He was amazing. There had never, in the history of man, been a more brilliant child than the one she held in her arms.
"Mama," he protested, and pushed against her with his fat little arms.
"No you don't," she said, and kissed his nose before burying her own nose in his soft fluff of flaming-red hair. He smelled like sea salt and baby powder and a thousand lovely things, and he was getting so big so fast. "You'll never get away from me. Never, never, never -" She nuzzled his head.
"Terrorizing my nephew again, I see." Bill Weasley thudded down beside her in the sand and held his arms out. Penelope put Leo into them without hesitation, and Bill held him out at arm's length, letting his baby legs dangle. "Getting tall, aren't you?"
"Ba," said Leo wisely.
"Nine months," Penelope said proudly, as Bill began to swing Leo gently from side to side. "I can't believe he's walking."
"Percy walked at nine months." Bill looked at her and smiled. "I remember all the stuff he did as a baby - I was seven when he was born, and I thought he was fascinating. I remember when he sat up, and when he spoke his first real word."
"What was it?"
Bill laughed. "Wand. Only he said 'wan'. He used to try to grab Dad's whenever he could. Once he started crawling, Mum was afraid he'd get his hands on one and start using it."
Penelope could well imagine that. And somehow, coming from his eldest brother, comments about Percy were less painful than usual. She leaned back on her hands in the sand, and watched as Bill balanced Leo on his knees and began to bounce him. "I've seen all his baby photos," she said. "Leo really looks…"
"It's uncanny," Bill said, and stopped bouncing Leo for a moment to look at him. "It's wonderful."
"It is. Is it strange that I hope he wears glasses?"
It was a moment before Bill answered. "No, that's not strange," he finally said, his voice low and quiet. "I hope he does too." He kissed the top of Leo's head and then set him on his feet in the sand, between them. "Go and get your mummy," he said, and carefully let him go.
Penelope held out her hands, but Leo did not so much as grab her thumb as he toddled the three necessary steps toward her. He reached her body, fell against it, and laughed the high-pitched, darling laugh that belongs only to babies and very little children. "You're so sweet," she crooned, as she picked him up. "How's the spell coming?" she asked Bill. "I suppose I should go and see if Fleur needs anything."
"She's fine. Her team has everything under control. Culparrat should be secure within a week." Bill gazed across a stretch of rocky shoreline towards Culparrat. Fleur was impossible to miss even at this distance; she sat on a boulder with a map unrolled on her knee, her long, silvery hair fluttering in the salt breeze. "You don't have to stay, really," Bill went on. "You've done all you can, haven't you?"
Penelope shrugged. "I suppose. But it's lovely here, isn't it?"
"Not the roughest job situation I can think of," Bill agreed, looking around. "Reminds me a bit of Egypt, actually - all this sand."
"Though I imagine the temperature makes it hard to pretend."
Bill laughed. "Yeah," he said. "I miss the heat. I wish I could go back - I don't know that I'm particularly going to like France, but…" He looked again towards Fleur. "Did she tell you she got a position at Beauxbatons?"
"No!" Penelope fished a bottle out of Leo's bag and uncapped it. She fought to get him in the crook of her arm, but he didn't seem to be much in the mood - he really was getting big. "What will she be teaching?"
"Advanced Charms. Which is perfect, because Gabrielle's in third year, so they won't be in direct contact that way, but Fleur'll still get to be with her sister on a daily basis, which is what they both want."
Penelope glanced at him. "So you're giving up Egypt and England for that."
Bill half-smiled. "Oh yeah," he said quietly. "No question."
Penelope felt a terrible pang of jealous loss. She tilted up her face and caught the breeze. "Did Gabrielle ever explain how on earth she got to London?" She asked evenly after a moment, wrestling Leo into one arm and sticking the bottle into his mouth. The moment she did so, he went still and clamped both his sticky hands to the sides of the bottle.
Bill looked grim. "At first she claimed she couldn't remember anything, but now she's admitted to her parents that she charmed one of her captors," he said. "She would've been killed like the rest of them if it weren't for her veela blood. She turned on the smile, the magic - all of it - and instead of disposing of her, like he was supposed to, one of her captors took her to his home." Bill's mouth curled. "A grown man," he said in disgust. "Sick bastard."
Penelope was horrified. "Oh God - he didn't - is she -"
"He tried." Bill looked like he was going to be sick. "Gabrielle won't say much about it except that he didn't succeed, and that's when she finally ran away. She says she's not sure how she got away from him - she thinks she remembers kicking him, and I'm sure she did. She's got excellent aim." Bill winced as though he knew something about it. "She ran and hid herself in the darkest place she could find, and it was a day or so before she realized she was on a Muggle ship. By the time she realized it, they were already too far out for her to come back. So she hid, she ate what she could, she…" Bill shook his head. "She's quite something."
"No wonder she ran from every adult who tried to help her," Penelope said angrily. "Filthy man - I hope she's telling the truth and that he didn't get to her."
"So do I."
"Who was he? Where was she?"
"She doesn't know," Bill said. "But she told her parents she remembered a castle on an island, so they'll be interrogating every known Death Eater from the area near Mont St. Michel."
"There can't be many. They'll find him."
"I hope they find him dead." Bill spoke harshly, with the same iron and bitterness that Penelope had felt many times.
"Yes," she said quietly, and looked out at the sea. It would have been fair for a man like that to die. But death had no opinions. Death did not assess personal worth. Death was final. Nothing more.
The sea rolled in and out, and Penelope felt as though she were going with it. It was so peaceful here, with nothing but the sea and the sand and her thoughts. And Leo. She gazed down at him and smiled. "I knew you were hungry," she murmured. He had already drained half the bottle. She rubbed his little tummy, and looked back up at Bill. "Does your mother know you're leaving England?"
"I told my parents yesterday." Bill sighed. "Mum's not thrilled, but she's so ecstatic to see me engaged that she didn't try to talk me out of it. And I'll stay here to help my dad until something can be done about the Dementors, so it might be months, or longer, before I can go anywhere."
"When will you get married?"
"Next summer. We all need time."
Penelope nodded. "Where?"
"I have no idea. Frankly, I don't care. I just want my family there - you included, of course - and Adam says that if he can't be in it, he'll have a fit." Bill raised an eyebrow. "I think he just wants to see Gabrielle in her dress robes."
Penelope gave a shocked laugh. "Isn't he a bit young?"
"Not to start noticing, no." Bill chuckled. "Thirteen's rough that way. All you're allowed to do is notice - there's no real action for years. Though I expect…"
"Hm?"
Bill shrugged. "Well, they've got a special situation, don't they? They write to each other every day - in each other's languages. The letters are crap, but that's not the point. They took care of each other for more than a year, and that's never going to go away between them." He shrugged again. "I almost wish Adam could come along with us and go to Beauxbatons - I know he misses her."
"Does he want to move away?"
"Oh yes." Bill smiled. "But I told him - in private, of course, didn't want to hurt Fleur's feelings or anything - that Hogwarts beats Beauxbatons any day of the year, and that he'll be sorry if he gives up the chance to go there." Bill's smile became a wayward grin. "And I told him he'll be the one man at school with a girlfriend abroad, which can't be a bad thing."
"Really, Bill!" But Penelope was laughing. "You're horrible."
Bill nodded. "I'm not the oldest for nothing. I've been dishing out bad advice for decades, I'm practically a professional."
"Oh, speaking of which -" Penelope adjusted her arm; Leo was getting heavy. "Will you stay with Gringotts? Work at the Paris branch?"
"For a while." Bill sifted sand in his fingers, examining it and letting it fall back onto the shore. "And you? Will you stay at the Ministry?"
Penelope's eyes traveled back to the sea. The truth was, she could not see herself returning to the Ministry of Magic. Her job there was done. Percy's task had been fulfilled. She felt… free. Alive. She wanted to keep working - to keep thinking and building and mapping magic - but she didn't know how to focus that. She didn't have Hermione's training. And she wouldn't have known what spells to build - the Imprisonment Enchantment had been Percy's need, not hers.
Of course, Hermione had said that the Ministry and other wizarding organizations usually made specific requests of Delia…
Penelope looked down at Leo again. His eyes were closed now, but he was still sucking. He was so young - he would never know it if they spent some time away from England. Away from everything. And the sunshine and the sea would be so good for him - and for her.
"I've thought," she said slowly, "of asking Hermione to introduce me to her friend Delia." She glanced at Bill to gauge his reaction. She hadn't told anyone yet.
"In Cortona?" Bill's eyes brightened. "That place sounds absolutely amazing - are you interested in Thinking, then?"
"I… think I am." Penelope cracked a grin at the unintended pun. "I know Hermione says it's difficult work, and that it doesn't come naturally to her, but I have the strangest feeling that it would to me."
Bill glanced at Leo. "You'll take him, obviously." He touched the fluff of baby-bright red hair, and Leo stirred in Penelope's arms.
"I know how much your mum will hate it," Penelope said. "But I… need to be away."
Bill was quiet for a minute. "That's fair," he said. "I can't say I don't know the feeling. And I think you should do what's best for you. You have a right to… move on." He looked as though the words were painful for him. "You might meet someone else. All of that."
"I'm not there yet," Penelope said at once. "Not even close."
"But eventually - what are you, twenty-three?"
The number sounded unimpressively small. Age was so deceptive; Penelope could hardly believe what she had already lived through. "Yes."
"You'll meet someone. Eventually."
It wasn't something she was ready to think about. She wanted no one to invade Percy's place in her heart just now. She wanted only an empty mind and an open soul and the crash of the sea. And Leo. And time. Time to be with herself and to do something useful that was all her own.
"Can I speak for all of us?" Bill asked abruptly.
Penelope looked at him - he seemed very intense about something. "All right," she said.
Bill turned to her in the sand, leaned his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands. "We all thought Percy was mad to get married when he did. You know that."
Penelope didn't need to answer.
"And it was worse, because we didn't really know you, and it didn't make much sense, and none of us ever really… understood Percy. We all thought he was siding with the wrong sort."
There was still no need for an answer, but Penelope found it hard not to let a flash of anger show through. None of them had ever really known Percy - save Molly, perhaps. Not like she had. His own brothers hadn't known him the way he had deserved to be known.
"I know," she said, with as little emotion as possible.
"So his marriage, I have to tell you, meant nothing to me."
Penelope wasn't sure why he was telling her this. It hurt. It made her want to slap him.
"Until I met you, and started working with you, and saw the sort of person you are. It made me…" Bill's eyes were getting bloodshot. "It made me rethink a few things. That's not to say I didn't grieve Percy like crazy straight away - I'm still grieving him. I love him. But at first I was grieving because I loved him when we were kids and because he was my brother - there wasn't much in it that was recently personal, because I didn't get to know him as an adult… am I making sense?"
Penelope nodded. A knot of tears was rising in her throat. She wanted to hug herself but she had to stay relaxed for Leo.
"But knowing you makes me feel like I knew him better," Bill went on. His voice was getting scratchy. "You must have meant the world to him - and don't take this the wrong way, but sometimes I find myself watching you and thinking what he must have seen in you, and thinking that if he was smart enough to see all that, then he was a better man than most of us, at a younger age. The way you handled it when Fleur started crying that day - the day we thought Gabrielle…"
Penelope swallowed hard. "I remember," she managed.
"And how you were with Ginny at Christmas - and how calm you are about your work, and how good you've been with my mother - just… Penny, if he had the sense to marry you, then I misjudged him."
Penelope stifled a sob. This wasn't fair. Percy should have heard all this.
"And I want you to know - and I know I speak for all of us - that you're part of this family and you always will be." Bill didn't seem capable of going on. For a minute he sat there and looked into the sand and Penelope could see him swallow several times. "I know… your family doesn't have much to do with the wizarding world. I know you don't have…"
"I don't have them." Penelope knew he wouldn't want to say it. "I had Percy."
"And now you have us. For as long as you want."
Penelope fought hard not to cry; she looked down and blinked hard and tried to stop her shoulders from shaking. Leo was asleep; he had let go of his bottle. It lolled half-in and half-out of his mouth, and Penelope busied herself with picking it up and putting it into her bag.
"And if you do meet someone -"
She shook her head vehemently.
"No, I know," Bill said gently. "But later… if you do… then he's welcome with us. Because we won't want to lose you and Leo. And we'll want to make sure he's… worthy of you. All right?"
Penelope nodded, and swiped at her eyes with one hand. "Th-thank you," she whispered. It was so strange to be included in such a family, in such a way. But she appreciated it with all her heart, and she knew that Percy, wherever he was, would have swelled with happiness to see her embraced like this. "Percy looked up to you so much, Bill," she managed, because now he deserved to hear it. "He really did. You have no idea."
Bill didn't answer, and Penelope didn't look over at him. She knew better than to interrupt what was probably his own private grief. Instead, she rocked Leo and watched the horizon and contemplated the Weasleys. They were an adoptive group - all of them. Never mind the fact that Molly had recently become her own orphanage - it wasn't just about children. The Weasleys simply had a gift for taking in the people who needed them most. She herself was an only child. Hermione was an only child - and Ron had brought Adam home, too. Harry was certainly an only child, and not only had Ginny taken to him, but the Weasleys as a unit had absorbed him from the very beginning. Only Fred had married a girl with siblings. But then, Fred and George never could do anything by patterns.
Penelope smiled a little. She really did know them. It made sense that she was part of them - even if it was very odd without Percy there to connect her. And she would miss them, when she went away. But she would come back to them, because Leo needed to know the people who had shaped his father's life. And because, much as she needed her own space, she needed them too.
"Bill?"
The shout came from somewhere down the beach, opposite from the direction of Culparrat. Both Penelope and Bill turned their heads and peered down the shoreline to see two girls, one with unruly brown hair and one with a Weasley-red ponytail, picking their way along the rocky shore and hurrying towards them.
"Hermione!" Penelope exclaimed. She hadn't expected to see her back for several days at least.
"Ginny?" Bill called at the same moment. "What are you doing here?"
"I thought you'd be at St. Mungo's - both of you!" Penelope said.
Hermione and Ginny drew closer, breathing rather hard, and both of them grinned.
"Hi, Penny," Ginny said. She looked rather tired, but she was still smiling as she put out her hands to Bill. "Come and help me with something, would you? I need an escort."
Bill took her hands and was pulled to his feet. "Where are we going?"
"To talk to Draco Malfoy," Ginny said. "Come on."
Bill frowned. "Really?" he asked. "I don't know that it's a very good idea to talk to him - or if you'll even be allowed. I know you worked on him, Ginny, but he's Stunned and -"
"You would have known all about it if you'd been inside and anywhere near a fireplace," Ginny said. "Moody's waiting for us. It's for Ron - for the Ministry. I need to speak to him, come on."
Hermione dropped into the sand where Bill had been. "Good luck," she said. "Oh, and Ginny - do you know where to go?"
"I'll tell her," said Penelope. "You haven't been since we changed the entrance path, and it's not the same. There's less safe space - the charms are much more comprehensive now. See the guide ropes?" She pointed.
Both Ginny's and Hermione's gazes followed her finger to a path. It was lined by ropes that hung like magical banisters, and it led to the front doors of the prison.
"Keep between the ropes if you want to stay in one piece," Penelope advised. "Bill knows where everything is."
Ginny nodded and grabbed Bill's hand. "Come on," she said. "I don't want to be late, I don't know what Moody would do."
"See you, " Bill called over his shoulder as Ginny dragged him off towards Culparrat.
Penelope watched them go with a strange, protective warmth in her heart. They weren't really her family. But… they sort of were. It felt like they were, in all the important ways.
"You look happy," Hermione said. "Is something going on?"
Penelope could have asked Hermione the same question - Hermione was pink-faced and still grinning. She looked like she had just been made queen of the universe as she flopped back in the sand and sighed. "It's a lovely day, isn't it?"
"It's about to rain," Penelope said dryly, not sure if she had ever seen Hermione behave with such abandon. But it made sense for Hermione to be out of her mind with happiness. She had just got her parents back, after all.
"Well, but the sea looks lovely in any weather. Hello, Leo," Hermione crooned, rolling towards Penelope and very softly kissing the top of Leo's head. "I don't want to wake him," she whispered, and rolled onto her back again. "Oh, it's nice here. If I had to be in prison, this would be the place."
Penelope laughed. "You're delirious."
"That's very true." Hermione sat up and squinted towards Culparrat. "Where are the elves?"
"Underground, setting up the kitchens. They don't need help, I already tried."
"Oh." Hermione looked a bit put out. "I suppose that's good."
"Yes." Penelope gave her a sidelong look. "May I ask you a question?"
"Of course."
"Do you think you'll go back to train at Cortona?"
Hermione blinked at her. "Oh," she said. "I… no. Not now. I want to be with my mum and dad."
"And after that?"
Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. There are other things I want to try. But it's possible. I might." She looked out at the rolling waves. "There are things I miss about it," she said, more quietly. "It was gorgeous there. And Delia was incredibly patient."
"Would you…" Penelope took a breath. "Would you mind introducing me to her?"
"Introducing?" Hermione gave her a swift, confused look. "Is she coming here, or - did I miss something while -"
"No, no." Penelope shook her head. "I'm thinking of… possibly going there."
Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh!" she said. "Really?"
Penelope nodded. "Would you write me a letter of recommendation, based on what we've done here?"
Hermione looked even more shocked. "Me?" she said, and then a smile split her face. "I've never written one!" she said. "Of course I will! That's going to be so much fun - do you want to apprentice as a Thinker? Is that why you're going? Is there anything you specifically want me to note, in the letter? When do you think you'd like to visit? Will Leo come on the first trip? Can I help you with anything - would you like me to draw up a list of the things I found helpful? You're going to love it - you're so much calmer than I am! You're going to be so much better - Delia's going to make so much more progress with you than she ever did with me -"
Penelope didn't try to stop Hermione as her tirade rambled on. It was a very nice tirade, and as it continued it contained within it several useful bits of information. And it obviously made Hermione happy to indulge in it… and Penelope didn't have anywhere to be, anyway. Leo was fast asleep and the prison was under very good regulation.
So she sat on the shore at Culparrat, holding her son in her arms and listening Hermione talk about magical theory and the beauty of island living. And she felt, for the first time in a long time, that life was going just as it was supposed to.
~*~
"Hurry up," Ginny said, pulling her hand out of Bill's as she led the way to the guide ropes. "I'll be late."
Culparrat loomed before them, strange and terrible, rising from the sea. It was not a welcoming sight, but at least the area surrounding it was mostly clean of emotion - probably because the prisoners within were still Stunned. Ginny hoped it wouldn't be too overwhelming when she went inside.
"No one's awake in there, are they?" she asked.
"Just the Aurors," Bill said. "No one else will be woken until all the charms are in place - that'll be a few days yet. They've all been moved to individual cells, though."
Ginny stopped at the guide ropes and pointed between them. "This path is all right?"
"As far as I know."
It wasn't a comforting answer, but Ginny forged ahead.
"I thought you'd be resting this week," Bill said, as he followed. "After what you did for the Grangers and everyth-"
Ginny stopped and turned to find Bill looking at her with admiration. "Who told you?" she demanded. It wasn't that she didn't want him to know, but she certainly hadn't had a chance to tell anyone.
"Remus told Mum and Dad," Bill answered. "Mum wanted to go straight over and see you in the middle of the night, but Remus said you were too tired to do much but sleep, and that you'd probably sleep for a day or so."
Ginny had a moment of pure panic at the thought of her mother coming over to see her and finding her in bed with Harry. She wondered if Remus had realized that Harry had been in there with her, and felt uncomfortably warm at the idea that he might have.
"He said you'd get in touch as soon as you were rested. But we all know already."
"All?"
"Dad told me straight away, and Mum told the twins - I told Charlie and Fleur and… well. We've practically told the world."
Ginny bit her lip. "Oh," she said happily, and turned back to continue walking. It was nice to know that she was being bragged about by everyone. She went confidently forward, the salt breeze pulling wisps of hair out of her ponytail. The wisps tickled her face and she slapped them back.
"What's all this about anyway?" Bill asked, as they picked their way over a rocky section of the shore. It was more difficult to stay between the guide ropes here - it was all Ginny could do to keep her balance. She stumbled forward, caught herself just before crashing through one of the ropes, and straightened up.
"That was close," she said, hoping her voice did not reveal what a scare she'd just had. She turned to follow the guide ropes sharply to the right.
"Wait a minute," Bill said. He grabbed her elbow and stopped her in her tracks. "Don't move."
Ginny froze, knowing that it was for her own good. He was a curse breaker, and probably knew how to tell when he was about to walk into something painful.
"Aperecium," Bill muttered.
The empty air into which Ginny had almost stepped glowed suddenly bright, revealing an ugly, impenetrable web of barbed, spidery red lines, several meters thick and forty feet high. The massive red tangle arched across the sky to touch the lowest parapet of the prison, a hundred feet away. Ginny's stomach dropped.
"OI! DON'T MOVE!" A young man raced up the path towards them, repositioning the guard ropes as he came forward. He was dressed in dark blue and wore a temporary Ministry identification badge, and Ginny knew he must have been on the Charms team. "I just finished that section a moment ago," he said hurriedly. "Haven't had a chance to move the -"
"We might have splinched," Bill said angrily.
"I'm sorry." The man looked sincerely shaken. "I wasn't warned that anyone was coming. This way - it's this way, that's it, Miss, watch your step…"
He ushered them in a safer direction and Ginny went forward more slowly than before, no longer minding that Bill's hand was tight around hers. She had no desire to be split in half. Both she and Bill were so intent on getting to the door in one piece that they didn't speak again until they were inside. They showed their identification to the Aurors and were led down a dank, torchlit corridor and through an archway, into a spiraling stairwell. They began to climb, following their guard.
Ginny knew she should have been curious about her strange surroundings - or at least disgusted by the fishy smell that had filled her nostrils - but now that they were inside her mind turned to Malfoy, and what she was here to do. She wondered if Ron was right, and it was just a waste of time.
"So," Bill said. "Is this about…" He trailed off, glanced up the stairs ahead of them at the guard, and continued more quietly. "About your gift?"
Ginny shook her head - then nodded. "Sort of. I'm not going to be using it now, or anything. I just - well, I can't tell you much. I'm sorry."
They came to a landing, turned, and continued to climb the stairs. Ginny's heart began to pound, and not out of nervousness over Malfoy - she hadn't had to climb so many stairs in a row since Hogwarts.
"Why do you want me here then?" Bill asked, his breath coming shorter. "Damn, it's like going to Divination, isn't it?"
Ginny shot him a grin. "Yeah. And I want you here because I need - someone outside the door in case - something goes wrong." She was getting out of breath.
"Why not an - Auror?" Bill asked, panting just as hard as they rounded onto another flight of steps. "I mean, I'm glad it's - me, but - wouldn't you rather -"
Ginny shook her head and concentrated on climbing for a moment. She began to use the banister for support.
When they turned again and continued to climb, Ginny blew out an aggravated breath. "How high up - is he?" she asked the Auror. Her legs were beginning to burn.
"Top floor," the Auror replied, not at all out of breath. "Order of Mr. Weasley."
"And which - Mr. Weasley - might that have been?" Ginny asked, though she knew full well which.
The Auror glanced over her shoulder, clearly surprised. "Mr. Ronald Weasley," she answered. "The more serious the crime, the higher up the criminal."
"But Malfoy's - not even - convicted yet."
The Auror shrugged. "I don't help decide these things. I'm just in training."
They began to climb yet another set of stairs, and Ginny made a mental note to put a Marathon Hex on Ron when she got home. She wanted to see him run a few miles.
"This is the last flight," said the Auror, as they turned once more and began to climb again. The stairs were so narrow here that they had to walk in single file, and so dark that all three of them had to light their wands. Ginny's legs were sore - it hurt to breathe - she had to distract herself.
"How did you - know to - pull me back?" she asked. "When I almost walked into the - splinch border?"
Bill gave a short, breathless laugh. "Instinct," he managed.
Ginny was alarmed. "You didn't - see some sort of - sign?"
"Nope."
"Do you - always go on - instinct when you're - in the desert and - stuff?"
Bill laughed again. "Yeah," he said. "But don't tell Mum."
Ginny didn't have the breath to giggle. They finally reached a corridor - a nice, flat corridor - and rested for a moment at the top of the stairs before following the Auror to the right, towards an arching iron door. From behind it there came a muffled voice. The voice was arrogant. Furious.
"Malfoy," Bill muttered. "You have to go in alone, I take it?"
Ginny nodded, clutching the stitch in her side, and followed the Auror towards the door. As she got closer, the voices behind it became easier to understand.
"Well, we can deal with your choice of Defender right now, Mr. Malfoy," Moody was saying, "and you can go right back to your nice bed while we do it. Or you can speak to the Healer first. She's on her way. It's up to you."
"Up to me." Malfoy's voice was an animal snarl. "If it were up to me, the Healer would be imprisoned for her breach of contract and she would be the one in this cell -"
"I take it you'd rather not speak to her," said Moody dryly. "Right. Back you go -"
"STOP." Malfoy's breathing was ragged. "I'll speak to her. And then I expect this nightmare of a legal system to right itself and provide me time alone with my private Defender."
"Would you listen to him," Bill muttered. "Still thinks he's on top of the world."
"And," Malfoy ranted on, "whichever one of your so-called Aurors manhandled me and took my clothing and possessions can expect to be charged with assault and theft."
Bill snorted. "Delusional."
Moody thunked his way into the corridor, shut the cell door, and pinned both his eyes on Ginny.
"He's all yours."
Ginny nodded, unsettled by the magical eye, which seemed to see straight through her. She wondered if she would ever get over the paranoid suspicion that Moody was really someone else. That eye had been pinned on her all too often in her third year, and she didn't like to be reminded of it.
"Can I ask a favor?" she ventured.
"Earplugs?" Moody returned, making Bill laugh.
Ginny smiled a little. "No… I just need Malfoy's possessions and clothing sent up, if that's possible."
"Certainly." Moody pointed to the Auror who had been their guide. "See to it."
The Auror seemed to be holding in a sigh as she turned to face another long trudge on the stairs, but she disappeared into the stairwell without protesting.
"Watch yourself, Miss Weasley," said Moody, gripping the door handle. "There's a shield up in the middle of the cell in order to keep you out of Malfoy's reach during this meeting. The shield is marked on the floor. Don't cross that line, or you'll get a nasty shock."
"I won't," Ginny said, and put out her hand. "Oh, wait -"
Moody paused before opening the door.
"Is the room being watched?" Ginny asked, hoping the answer would be no. "Is there surveillance?"
"None that's set up yet, no," said Moody. "There's no reason for it until the prisoners are woken - why, would you like me to -"
"No." Ginny was relieved. "That's fine." She narrowed her eyes at his magical one. "No peeking," she said.
Moody gave her a narrow look, but nodded his agreement and asked no questions.
"Well, I'll be right out here," Bill said over her shoulder. "Be careful."
Ginny nodded, and Moody limped back, pulling the door open so that she could see…
Was that Malfoy?
Forgetting her worries, Ginny walked into the cell and stared at him. She heard the door scrape shut behind her - heavy metal grating on cold stone - but although it might have given her a pang of uncertainty to be locked in a room alone with Draco Malfoy, it didn't scare her to be trapped in a room alone with this dingy, wasted…
Prisoner. Everything about him screamed prisoner. The flat, ugly gray robes, the shapeless brown shoes, the colorless, dirty hair that fell into his face and would not stay back no matter how he pushed it. The puffy, shadowed skin of the gaunt face - the greenish tinge to his perspiring flesh - he had not been able to put up his Glamour since they had taken his wand away, and he looked more ill and exhausted than ever; the moisture and mildew of Culparrat were doing nothing to help him. He paced maniacally in his limited space - back and forth - back and forth again - getting nowhere, rubbing frantically at the place on his finger where the ring had been. His energy was riddled with frustration. Helplessness. And rage - rage so complete that Ginny had to steel every nerve against it.
Malfoy's pacing suddenly stopped, as if he had just realized for the first time that Ginny was in the room. When he turned his eyes on her, they gleamed with an unnatural light. He looked just as he had when he'd been drunk in the Leaping Fish - but he was stone sober.
It was frightening.
"Come to survey your handiwork, have you?" His voice was cold and hoarse, and Ginny felt a pang of irrational guilt.
"I didn't break our contract."
Malfoy leered. He took a step towards her and Ginny took an involuntary step back, forgetting what Moody had said about the shield. It might have been there, but it was invisible, and there seemed to be no barrier at all between herself and Malfoy.
"Oh, of course you didn't," he breathed. "It's all an amazing coincidence. I should have known better than to expect a Weasley to hold to such a binding. I should have known better than to…" His hands came up and scraped wildly at his hair. His eyes unfocused. "To trust you…"
Through the guilt, Ginny felt a flash of triumph. So he had trusted her. Then she had got through to him - she had helped him a little - and so she must be able to exercise some small measure of influence over him. Perhaps there was a way to make him talk, and if she maneuvered very carefully then she would find it.
"I didn't break our contract," she repeated, concentrating on sending that truth through to him. "I'm here to help you."
"Help me?"
Malfoy took another step towards her and Ginny forced herself to stay still - she didn't have to move back. Her eyes searched the ground for the mark that Moody had talked about - and there it was. The stones that ran horizontally across the floor between herself and Malfoy glowed silver. There was strong protective magic at work there, and Malfoy must have known it would have hurt him; for all his intimidating advances, he was nowhere near it.
"Help me, Weasley?" he repeated. His eyes slid over her face and his mouth split in an ugly smirk. "However do you intend to help me when you look like you haven't slept in weeks?"
Ginny tensed - but then, he didn't know why she was tired. He knew so little of what had recently happened. He wouldn't have any idea of what had happened with the Grangers, and it was better that way.
"Up late last night shagging Potter, no doubt." Malfoy's smirk widened as though he believed he had said something that would upset her.
Instead, into her mind there flashed an image - Harry's face above her - Harry in her bed, as he had been last night. They hadn't done what Malfoy had suggested, but there had been moments when Ginny thought they might forget themselves. She knew that she had forgotten nearly everything else while they had kissed and touched each other - she had certainly forgotten the time. It had been three o'clock in the morning before they had realized it, and they had both groaned, thinking of how painful it would be to get up in the morning, before forcing themselves to lie still together. And even then, they had been unable to lie still. Her hand had found his hand, and his head had turned on the pillow and his lips had brushed her lips, and Ginny couldn't remember if the kiss had ever finished or if she had drifted off with Harry's mouth still softly aligned with hers -
"Good Lord," Malfoy spat, bringing her back to her senses. She jumped and stared at him. "That wasn't an invitation to fantasize."
Ginny snorted. "Well I didn't bring it up, did I?" she shot. "And yes," she added, trying to return to the conversation at hand. "I'm here to help you."
"He does have a small fortune, I'm told," said Malfoy, ignoring her. He walked to the back wall and relaxed against it, crossing his arms and his ankles and staring dead ahead at her in as satisfied and arrogant a manner as he possibly could in his ruined state. "So you've finally found a steady source of pocket change. Well, well, Weasley. It is the world's oldest profession."
Ginny was sickened, but determined not to show it. "Look," she said, already feeling weary. She had forgotten how draining he could be, and how he seemed to know all the most intimate ways to insult her. "Do you want my help or not?"
"You want to Heal me, you want to help me." Malfoy's voice was full of scorn. He uncrossed his arms and began to rub again at the empty place on his ring finger. "Please, Weasley. Give me one reason why I should believe you."
The air around Ginny surged suddenly and she felt a strange softness in it. A dark vulnerability.
He really wanted an answer.
"Or is this just more of your practice?" he demanded. "Come to use me? Is that how you plan to improve your skills? By forcing yourself on prisoners who don't have a choice -"
"All right." Ginny had to work to contain herself. If there hadn't been a barrier between them, she would have been tempted to slap him. "The truth is, I wasn't only doing it to help you. The truth is that I didn't like sitting near you on that broom, and I wanted to make it easier for myself, so I decided to work on you - for me. Not for you. But you agreed to let me, and I have never, never told anyone what I felt, or what I know."
Malfoy's eyes flashed. "Know?" His voice was half-frantic. "Just what do you think you know, Weasley?"
Ginny felt his fear. His anger. And she decided it was right to use it against him.
"I know that you're rubbing your finger because you miss that ring," she said quietly.
Malfoy jumped. His relaxed posture stiffened entirely - he took two steps away from the wall, then snatched his hands back and looked at her in surprise, which shifted immediately to anger. He tossed his head.
"I've been stripped of my clothing and possessions while I was unconscious, like a common ruffian," he hissed. "Of course I want my possessions back, you idiot. That ring is worth more than your family's entire assets, I'm sure. I want it back."
Ginny only shook her head. "It's no good trying to hide it. I felt it. I know..." Her voice trailed off. She didn't exactly know what the ring was capable of. But she knew that if she was ever going to bluff him, then she would have to make her best guess now. "I know about the Dementors," she said evenly, her heart thudding. Please let me be right, please let me be right…
Malfoy's eyes widened, and for a moment he was obviously rattled. But his eyes narrowed again before Ginny could be sure she had cornered him, and he advanced, taking a slow, deliberate step towards the shield that separated them.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said coldly. But the way he was moving - the way he was staring at her -
Ginny opened herself to everything his energy could tell her, and she knew that she was right. He was terrified. And furious. She had got it right. A powerful thrill surged through her - this was going to work. This was going to work.
"Yes you do," she said, keeping her voice was even as his. "You know exactly what I'm saying. And I think you also know that if my brother hasn't asked you anything about this, then it means I haven't told him anything about it."
Malfoy's energy surged with sudden confusion - his narrow stare faltered - his mouth dropped partway open. At once, he seemed to realize that he was gaping, and he snapped his mouth shut and gestured imperiously with his hand as though trying to prove his nonchalance - but the movement was jerky. And in his eyes there was the bright, fierce terror of an animal that had met its match.
Ginny pressed her advantage. "I don't know if anyone's told you about the way the Dementors have been acting since you were arrested," she said.
At once, Malfoy's demeanor shifted. Anger swept him again, knocking defeat and vulnerability aside. "No one's told me anything, damn it!" he nearly shouted. "I've been Stunned in this bloody cell for weeks. Are you completely stupid? How on earth did you people defeat the Dark Lord - you're imbeciles, all of you - imbeciles -"
He was losing all control, and Ginny watched him as he disintegrated before her, feeling both ugly satisfaction and true pity. He was a ruined person. He had given away his life for something that had never existed, and never would exist. And now all promise of it was gone, and this was what he had left. This cell, this hatred…
And that ring.
"Are you stupid, Malfoy?" she said softly, when he stopped ranting for a moment to take a deep, gasping breath. "Don't you see I'm the last resort? Keep up your insults and I'll go, and then where will you be?"
Malfoy gave her a hollow, violent look, then swung his head away and looked at the wall.
"The Dementors are out of control," Ginny told him. "People have noticed that it's only happened since you've been gone, but no one can work out why."
There was another pause. Ginny listened to his labored breathing for a moment before pressing on.
"Some people think it's the lack of a more experienced rider."
Malfoy's fingers clenched, then uncurled slowly.
"But that's not it, is it?" Ginny said, even more softly. She was following her gut. Her instincts. The air in the room was thick with confusion and grief - anger and helplessness - he didn't know how to answer, or what to do. He only knew that he was caught - she could feel that he knew it.
A moment later he looked up at her, flat gray eyes resigned. "How should I know?" he drawled - but it was not the old drawl. It lacked its usual luster. "Do I look like a Dementor to you, Weasley?"
Ginny held his gaze for a long moment. "Let's have a look at your ring, shall we?" she finally said.
Malfoy's head snapped up. His eyes went wide with shock and suspicion. "Don't touch a thing of mine -"
But Ginny had already turned to the door. She opened it and slipped out, shutting it behind her.
Both Bill and Moody looked ready for a report.
"I'm not finished," she said. "I need his things."
Bill handed her the wooden crate that held all of Malfoy's belongings. Ginny fished around inside it until her hand touched something hot and sharp that made her cry out in pain.
"What is it?" Bill asked anxiously. "Here, give me that - is there a nail or something?"
But as Bill reclaimed the box, Ginny lifted her hand out of it, cradling something small and gaudy-gold in the middle of her palm. Her arm was shaking. It hurt so badly that she wasn't sure she could stand it for another second, but she had to carry it in there, she had to be able to use it - but she couldn't - she was going to scream -
Moody plucked the ring out of her hand before she made a sound. Ginny's arm fell to her side and she slumped, leaning against the stone wall for balance.
"That's quite a piece of jewelry," Moody said, shrewdly observing Ginny. "Care to enlighten us?"
"Not yet," Ginny managed. "But I need a way to - carry it. I can't touch it."
Bill pulled his wand and looked ready to do another revealing spell like the one he had done on the Imprisonment Enchantment outside.
"No -" Ginny put out a hand to stop him. "Not yet. So far he believes I haven't told anyone anything. And so far I haven't. I won't lie to him."
Moody gave her another long, shrewd look. He opened his mouth as if to say something, and then he shut it. Gripping Malfoy's ring tightly in one gnarled fist, he dug into the wooden crate with the other. "Here," he said after a minute, slapping a pair of black leather gloves into Ginny's hands. "He was wearing these when we took him off the dragon. Put them on."
Ginny stared. Of course - his gloves. That was why she had never felt the ring before that day at the Manor. That was why it had never hurt her, all those days on the broom. He had been wearing his gloves, and underneath the gloves he'd been controlling things with that ring…
She pulled the gloves on as fast as she could and reached out for the ring. Moody dropped it into her cupped hands and Ginny winced, waiting for pain. But there was no pain.
"Thanks," she said, and went towards the door again. "Would you?"
Bill pulled open the door and Ginny went back into Malfoy's cell. He was standing very close to the invisible shield, his eyes wild as they fell on the golden ring in her hands.
The door slammed shut, leaving them in silence. Ginny waited until she knew Malfoy could no longer stand it, and then she picked up the ring in two fingers and held it aloft.
"Very fancy," she said, and pretended to admire it. "Oh, look at the M. Very nice. We all wondered why it stayed burnt into Ron's temple for so long - but then perhaps that's why you dropped the charges against him so suddenly. Didn't want anyone looking into that, did you?"
Without taking his eyes off the ring, Malfoy put out his hand. "Give it to me," he ordered. His hand trembled.
"How does it work?" Ginny asked simply. "You might as well tell me."
Malfoy went paler than usual, then shook himself and rolled his eyes dramatically. "You pick it up and put it on your finger," he taunted, "where it will be generally seen as a sign of good taste and good fortune. Perhaps you use rings for a different purpose? Or perhaps you've never owned one."
But his insults were worth nothing now. He was transparent. "No, no," she said, forcing a light laugh. "That's exactly how I use rings. I imagine that's how most people in the world use them." She closed one hand around it and held up her other, gloved fingers. "Funny I can't even touch this one because it's full of Dark magic."
Malfoy's eyes narrowed, and his hand remained outstretched. "Those are my gloves- " he began, but Ginny cut him off.
"Interesting how it seems to have an effect on Dementors. And -" Ginny guessed again. "And dragons."
Malfoy's face lost its remaining color, and Ginny continued on, now knowing she was right.
"Because it was the dragons too, wasn't it? How else could you have made Norbert so tame just by raising your hand? How else could Mordor have been the only dragon who stayed calm after all those months?" Ginny's mind was spinning. So much was beginning to make sense. "The other dragons went wild, didn't they - but Mordor never tried to throw you - he just sank down to the sea - because he was affected like the rest of them, but you weren't letting him react naturally - you had him under control, didn't you?"
Malfoy looked very gray.
Ginny couldn't believe none of them had seen it. She could hardly get all the words out. "You don't have a gift with dragons - it just looked like you did - that's what's good about a ring, isn't it? You just wear a glove and raise your hand and it seems you've got power - but it's all just borrowed, isn't it? None of it was ever really you."
Malfoy's hand twitched. For a moment, Ginny could read struggle in his face, and then his arm dropped to his side and he took a deep breath. His shoulders nearly relaxed. Nearly.
"Even if you were right," he said, his voice low and shaking, "none of this will be useful to you in court once it is proved you violated your contract -"
"Oh, but I didn't. And I still don't have to." Ginny pushed the ring over the tip of one gloved finger and held up her hand as if she planned to wield its power.
Malfoy gave her a fleeting look that was half plea, half murder.
Ginny held her palm towards Malfoy, the way she had seen him do with Norbert. "I can just give this ring to Sirius Black," she said, "and see what he makes of it. I won't have to say a word. I imagine you know how much he'd like to be able to control the Dementors - he'd work it out. Perhaps he should have it."
"NO!"
The word had burst out of Malfoy - apparently before he could stop it. He stood panting at the edge of his space, far too close to the barrier, a pink tinge rising in his cheeks. He looked outraged, but seemed to realize that even the one word had been as good as an admission of guilt - he threw back his head and made a noise almost like a growl.
"No?" Ginny asked very softly, flexing her hand wide. "And why not? What would happen if I -"
"Take it off," he whispered hoarsely, dropping his gaze to stare at the ring again. His chest rose and fell rapidly and all around her in the air Ginny felt his terror. "Take it off," he repeated harshly. "Before you kill us both, you stupid girl."
Ginny felt a thrill of fear. At the same time she felt something begin to course into her arm. Something that had nothing to do with Healing. Something nauseating in its total power - a power she had felt more deeply than she wanted to remember. It was flooding her. Taking root in her.
"Imperius," she whispered, as her body began to shake. "Isn't it?"
Malfoy's eyes did not leave the ring. "If you believe it is as simple as that, Weasley," he managed, "if you believe the Dark Lord used only magic that your kind can name and understand… then by all means…" He sounded as though he could hardly breathe. "Use it. Be more fool than you already are. He was stronger than any of you ever began to comprehend."
Voldemort had given this object power. Riddle. Tom.
Ginny gagged; frantically she tugged the ring off her finger and threw it to the floor - it made a ringing noise and rolled to the place on the floor where the stones shone silver. It rolled in dizzying circles, then fell flat, just inches from Malfoy.
Malfoy fell to his knees - he made an instinctive lunge - his hand hit the invisible barrier and he shouted in terrible pain. There was a crack! and a burst of red light, and Malfoy was thrown all the way back to the wall where he sat sprawled, his breath heaving through his open mouth, his eyes squeezed shut, his whole body slack and trembling. He was very close to tears.
"Ginny!"
Bill's voice. Ginny turned to see both him and Moody in the doorway, their wands drawn.
"What happ -"
"Go," Ginny said quickly. "We're not finished."
"Oh yes we are."
She turned back to see that Malfoy's eyes had opened into slits. They cut into her.
"Get her out," he commanded, trying to point. But his hand faltered and his arm dropped to his side. He didn't have the strength. "Get her out."
Ginny whirled and shook her head pleadingly at Bill and Moody. "No," she said. "No, I need more time."
They both looked dubious, but nodded and backed away again.
"I SAID, GET HER OUT -" Malfoy shouted, from where he was still crumpled on the floor. The door slammed in spite of his order, and he made a strangled noise. "You'll get nothing from me," he spat at her, his head lolling against the wall. "I'll never help you, Weasley, you're wasting your time." He cradled his shocked hand in his good one. "And when it comes out what you've done -"
"You never paid me." The words were quiet but sure, and they silenced him as fully as Ginny could have wished.
He gaped for a moment, and then - "I don't see what -"
"Our contract was based on payment. And I didn't take any pay."
Malfoy stared up at her, panting. His last hope was gone - Ginny felt it go - leaving his situation entirely bleak and miserable. There was no way out for him now.
"But I - I paid you," he stammered. "It's not my fault if you refused -"
"Our contract is null and void," Ginny said, taking Ron's words. "I still haven't gone back on it, because I believe it's still an oath, money or not. But Malfoy…" She fixed a serious look on him. "Understand this now. I'm not legally bound. In fact, if I'm charged by the Ministry to do it, then I'll have to tell everyone what I know. And you know it'll happen. My brother will make sure I'm charged to do it."
"And you - you'd break your oath?" Malfoy was obviously scrambling for arguments now. "You, a Healer - you even said that it wasn't about money - you'd go back on your word - you'd put forth my private -"
"Yes I would." She gazed pitilessly at him. "And you can stop playing it up for my sympathy. You won't get it."
Not quite under his breath, Malfoy called her several filthy names.
"That won't help you."
"And I won't help you," he choked, struggling to get to his feet. But he couldn't get his legs under him - his collision with the barrier had weakened all his muscles; he was shaking like jelly. He dropped straight down again, still sprawled and panting. "So," he barked. "I'm to stay here for life, am I?" He gave a wild, awful laugh. "No honor left in any of you, is there? At least I'll know that all of you will suffer without my help. Suffer. Potter will spend his life keeping back those Dementors and he'll die young - you know he will. He already looks like hell. Imagine him in five years."
Ginny's fists clenched.
Malfoy laughed at her. "Yes, that's right. All that work defeating the Dark Lord just to die a slow and painful death on dragonback. What terrible irony. What a shame."
"That doesn't have to happen," Ginny managed. "That ring is enough to hold back the Dementors -"
"As if I'm going to tell you how to use it," Malfoy sneered. "No, let him die. Let your brother waste his life. Let the Ministry waste its money - let your father look like the murdering fool he is. He'll have to step down as soon as the public is tired of his ineptitude with the issues at Azkaban - not that anyone who succeeds him will manage any better." Malfoy gave a maniacal laugh. "And you'll have to watch it all, won't you? Because all the Healing power in the world won't be able to stop it. You'll have to heal the dragons again and again - you'll never have a chance to use your talents for any other reason - and you'll watch Potter waste away in front of you while you do it-"
"While you rot," Ginny whispered, her eyes full of tears. He was sick. He reminded her strongly of someone else. Someone equally sick, whose personal bitterness had become a terrible war. "And you won't be Stunned, Malfoy. You'll be wide-awake for over a hundred years - even a hundred and fifty years. Right here in this room. Alone."
Malfoy's nasty laughter faltered. His eyes seemed to focus inward and his face went blank. Apparently he had more faith in Ron's evidence against him than Ron did.
"Look around," Ginny said. "This is all you have. No house, no servants - nothing. What you're wearing is what you'll wear."
He shuddered involuntarily.
"Just this little space until you die. No wand. You'll never do magic again." She paused. It was cruel to say the next thing, but perhaps it would get through to him. "You'll hardly see your mother again."
His eyes glazed. His head dropped.
"Is that what you want?"
Malfoy put a hand over his face.
"Because if you don't help me now, Malfoy, that's what you'll get."
Malfoy went still as stone. For a moment, Ginny wondered if he had somehow been Stunned again. And then he slowly raised his head and pinned his swimming eyes on her.
"Are you saying…" He swallowed. "Are you saying that… if I do help you…there's a chance…"
She had him. Ginny walked as close to the barrier as she dared go. She knelt, picked up the ring, and met his eyes. "Tell me what it can do."
Malfoy was quiet. He looked at the ring for a long time and flexed the hand that had used to wear it. "What would it have to do to get me free?"
"I don't know," Ginny said honestly. "But if you tell me everything it does, then I can bargain for you."
Malfoy was quiet again. His eyes slid away from the ring in her hand and he shook his head.
"No?" Ginny said. "Fine. Then I'll give it to a curse breaker, and he'll sort out how to use it and we'll -"
Malfoy laughed, and the sound was harsh and cruel. "If you want to find yourself short another brother, then please, give it to the curse breaker. The less of you there are, the better."
Ginny tried to ignore the painful hatred she suddenly felt. He was so callous. He held nothing sacred, not even the dead.
"Who can use it then?" she demanded through clenched teeth.
Malfoy's eyes flitted to hers and the ugly light had come back into them. "I am your only option," he said.
Truth and satisfaction flooded the room. Pride. Ginny felt all of it, and wondered at its fierceness. Perhaps control over that ring was the one great talent his father had left him - perhaps it was a magic so Dark that only the Malfoys had been entrusted with the wielding of it.
"Then tell me what it does," she repeated. "You're risking nothing. If I bargain for you and lose, then you can just refuse to help. But if I bargain and win…"
Malfoy's eyes changed completely. There was hope in them. Desire.
"You might get your life back," Ginny finished. She hoped it would be enough.
"My life back," he echoed. He laughed again, but this time there was something pitiful in the sound. "No. I'm afraid that's not within your power." But he glanced at her, and then at the ring, and Ginny felt a shift in the air between them, like something sliding into place.
A decision.
"All right, then," Malfoy said faintly. "You want to know what it does?"
Ginny sat back on her heels and waited, her heart racing. He was actually going to tell her. Ron would never believe it.
"Could you secure my freedom if I…" Malfoy gave her a suspicious look, as if he were testing something. "If I were willing to come back to Azkaban and control the Dementors again?"
"You mean you'd put things back to how they were?"
Malfoy nodded.
But he was holding something back - Ginny could feel it. She narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't know. That's not very much, is it? Is that the most you can do?" she pressed.
Malfoy tilted his head. "Oh no," he said softly, and half-smiled. He seemed amused. "I could always destroy them, if you'd prefer."
It was a moment before Ginny realized that she could hear her own breath. It came in loud, ragged pulls that echoed in the cell. Her mouth was dry. "Destroy - what - the -"
"Dementors." Malfoy crossed his arms and legs and sat back against the wall, looking almost comfortable again.
Ginny didn't believe him. "You can't," she said flatly. "You can't do that."
"Can't I."
"But - but there's no -" Ginny spluttered. She stumbled to her feet and began to pace her half of the cell, her brain reeling. "Why would you have bothered?" she finally demanded, bewildered. "Why spend all that time at Azkaban - why work so hard when you didn't have to? If you could destroy them, then why not do it on the first day and spare yourself the trouble?" She stopped pacing and rounded on him. "Why?"
Malfoy smiled up at her. It was almost a real smile. "Come now," he said pleasantly, seeming to enjoy her reaction very much. "Surely the Healer can sense all my reasons."
But Ginny didn't have to sense anything; he had made all his reasons very clear. He had been killing Harry. Wearying her brother and herself. Wasting the Ministry's resources. Making her father look incompetent. It had been nothing but a game of petty vengeance tricks all the time - and all the time it could have been over. But Malfoy had been using Voldemort's leftover powers to indulge every nasty whim in his heart, like the spoiled bully he had always been.
"You're pathetic," she whispered.
He laughed. "Now, now," he chided lightly. "You'll have to show a bit more respect if you want me to do it. Oh - and there's a catch."
Ginny watched him and waited, disgusted.
"If I am freed for my services - given complete liberty, Weasley, not just a shorter sentence - then I will require the participation of several capable wizards to get the job done." He paused. "Note that I said capable. None of your family or your Mudblood friends will do."
Ginny wasn't sure she understood him. "I thought you were the only one who could use this ring?"
"I am." Malfoy smirked. "And the magic requires channeling. Once it is unleashed, I'll need others to do the work while I control the source of power."
"I've never heard of magic working like that."
Malfoy snorted. "Of course you haven't…" His eyes became slits again. "On second thought… why don't you participate?" He looked up at her with eyes full of malicious delight. "Oh yes. You and Potter and Granger. And your excellent brother. All of you."
Ginny was more frightened by his tone and his look than she wanted him to know. "I won't use that magic," she managed.
"Too noble?" Malfoy laughed again. He looked completely relaxed now, and perfectly confident. "Too high and mighty to use the power that is available to you?"
"That's Dark magic," Ginny said shakily. Perhaps this had been a bad idea. Perhaps they shouldn't let him help them. Not if they had to use spells that Voldemort had created. Not if they all had to channel something that was truly evil. And perhaps Malfoy was lying. Perhaps this was the biggest trap, the greatest trick of all.
"But it's fine for me to use it to achieve your ends?" Malfoy sighed as though put upon. "Honestly. The hypocrisy." He drummed dirty fingers on the ground, then tried to get to his feet again. This time, he was successful. He faced Ginny and pushed back his hair - and for a split second he looked like himself again - tall and lazy and cold, full of perfect arrogance.
"Well, why are you still here?" he asked, waving her towards the door. "Go on." He smirked. "Give the Secretary Privy my regards - I'm sure that she will see the value of this bargain better than the rest of you. And I'll… wait here, shall I?" He gave a short laugh, then walked to his rickety bed in the corner and lay down, shifting around on his back as if to find the best position in which to be Stunned.
Dazed, Ginny watched him settle. And then she closed her hand around his ring and walked out of the cell, her head so full of new information and new doubt that she could hardly think.
"Well?" Bill demanded, when she had shut the door.
"Do you need me to take that?" Moody asked, extending his hand.
"No, you can… you can go and Stun him." Ginny looked from Moody to Bill, and then down at the ring in her hand. "And then I think we should go to the Ministry. Right now."
~*~
A/N II: Thanks to JEC for reading this story so closely, and for pointing out that Ginny's lack of pay would render the contract null and void.
A/N III: Mordor. Heh heh.
