As of this update, I am changing the title of the story (I did warn you! :P) to:
'Venus Ascending'
You'll see why as we go along!
Miss Weasley has a secret, and you'll have to stay tuned to find out what it is!! :-D
Don't worry though - I'm a sucker for happy endings, but I do like a nice twisty plot to make the ride worthwhile!!
Keep reviewing!
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
The Lion's Secrets
Suffice it to say that Harry did not sleep a wink that night, but kept tossing and turning in his bed as his thoughts whirled. Too restless to close his eyes, he wracked his brains to come up with excuses for Ginny's peculiar behaviour, hoping to hit on one that sounded plausible and dealt him far less hard a blow.
Perhaps she really is busy with something, he thought. But then why won't she tell us what? She's definitely keeping a secret, which means it's something she thinks we won't like. So whatever it is, I won't like it. Oh, damn.
Naturally, discussing the matter with Ron would only breed disaster, since he too was irritated and suspicious about what his little sister was up to. Hermione, Harry knew, wouldn't talk to him about it, telling him that it was nobody's business but Ginny's and she would tell them if and when she was ready.
There was nothing for it - he would have to sweat it out alone and hope that he was horribly, horribly wrong.
***
The morning slid by quickly, since McGonagall's Transfiguration lesson was a godsend in comparison to Potions with Snape. Harry counted his blessings and decided to relax, pushing disturbing thoughts of Ginny to the back of his mind for the time-being. After all, there were a hundred chances that he had jumped to the wrong conclusion.
"Oi, Harry!" hissed Seamus, leaning across the aisle to make himself heard. "Have you made up a Quidditch practice timetable yet?"
Harry had to think for a moment or two before he could reply. "Oh - sorry, not yet. I've been pretty busy."
"Well get a move on, mate! The match against Slytherin is in March, and we want to win that cup again!"
Seamus had joined the Gryffindor team the year before, following a rather nasty accident which had befallen one of Harry's Chasers, minutes before the Ravenclaw match. Desperate for any assistance whatsoever, Harry had tentatively agreed to let Seamus replace the unfortunate Chaser, and was rewarded, rather astonishingly, with one of the most amazing wins of his entire Quidditch career. He had hastily offered Seamus a permanent place on the team, which had been unhesitatingly accepted.
Harry placated him with promises to write up the timetable as soon as possible, and returned to copying out notes on human transformations from his textbook. If Quidditch couldn't take his mind off things, nothing could.
Professor McGonagall rose to her feet several moments before the lesson was due to end.
"You may put your quills down," she commanded. "I have one or two things to say to you before you leave, and I require your undivided attention, if you please. Professor Dumbledore has asked me to inform you that there will be a Hogsmeade weekend for the middle-school in a fortnight's time, and that seventh-years should consider themselves restricted to future timetabled visits, and on no account must they venture out at any other time. Do you understand?"
A murmur ran around the classroom.
"But seventh-years are allowed to go in their free periods, Professor!" objected Parvati Patil, her eyes wide with concern.
"Not this year, Miss Patil," replied Professor McGonagall, sternly. "It is an issue of safety. You may go with the rest of the school on the assigned weekends, but no-one is to venture outside the grounds otherwise, unless permission has been granted before hand by Professor Dumbledore himself. Is that clear? I'm sure I don't need to remind you that the punishment for any rebellious students will be severe."
Nobody needed reminding in the slightest, and it was with heavy hearts that the class departed.
"Mr Potter!"
McGonagall's voice halted Harry in his tracks as he gathered up his books and waited patiently for Ron to finish stuffing his back into his bag.
"Professor?"
"I am also to inform you and your two friends that your presence will not be required at the Gallery this afternoon, since the persons who would have expected your attendance are engaged elsewhere in important business."
"Where have they gone?" asked Harry, automatically.
McGonagall's lips pursed. "That is not your affair, Potter. I suggest you get on with some work and make use of your free time this afternoon. You're in for a busy year, and I want to see good results at the end of it." Her expression softened slightly. "I also want to see you raise that Quidditch cup this year, so make sure you train that team of yours into first-class condition ready for the Slytherin match."
Harry smiled, and nodded his agreement, before following Ron and Hermione out into the corridor.
"What's wrong with letting seventh-years go into Hogsmeade?" Ron was muttering. "What's Dumbledore got up his sleeve now?"
"I don't think it's a case of what Dumbledore has got up his sleeve," replied Hermione, grimly, "but what You-Know-Who has got up his."
Ron started, in the same manner as when somebody mentioned the full name of that same personage. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, Ron, do I have to explain everything to you?"
"No - not everything - "
"An issue of safety, McGonagall said. That could mean anything, but it means Volde - I mean, You-Know-Who. Or at least, his followers. I don't like the sound of that at all. They've come close to Hogwarts before, but never so close as to cause Dumbledore to ban us from Hogsmeade! This is serious!" She hastened her pace, making for the Library.
"Well, what are you going to do about it?" Ron called after her departing form.
"I'll find something, don't you worry!"
"She will and all," muttered Ron to Harry, as she disappeared around a corner. "I have no difficulty at all in believing she would take on a whole army of Death Eaters if she had to!"
Harry was deep in thought. Hermione was right - this was terribly serious.
"Perhaps that's why Sirius and Remus have gone off somewhere," he said, in a low voice. "Nothing would call them away except serious Order business."
"I guess we'll find out tomorrow," shrugged Ron. "If they're back."
***
Hermione was already in the Great Hall when the boys arrived at lunchtime, talking heatedly over the table with Ginny. Harry tensed when he saw her familiar red-gold head, and he could not suppress a shiver of emotion when he saw her rose-coloured lips part in a dazzling smile.
"Afternoon, Harry," she said, brightly. There was no trace of awkwardness in her manner at all, nothing that suggested she was concealing something unpleasant behind those enchanting brown eyes.
"All right, Gin?" He hoped he looked and sounded casual as he slipped onto the bench beside Hermione.
"What have you had this morning?" demanded Ron, almost before he had sat down.
"Charms," replied Ginny, promptly.
"And?"
"And nothing. Had a free period just before lunch."
"What did you do?"
Ginny tilted her head at an angle and stared at her brother mutinously. "Ran off and got married to a handsome Italian with a bank balance the size of Draco Malfoy's ego."
Ron shut up. Harry couldn't hold back a chuckle of laughter. Ginny grinned back at him.
All his worries seemed to die a death as his eyes met hers across the table. How could she possibly be doing something so sinister behind their backs? It was unthinkable.
You idiot, Potter!
He hoped this feeling of inner liberation would last. Ginny was well-known for her peculiar habits of secrecy and manipulation, but never yet had Harry heard of her using her mischievous nature for anything other than innocent fun. But then, perhaps that was how it appeared to her. She didn't know (at least Harry hoped she didn't), how he felt about her, and so it couldn't be held against her if she chose to see somebody behind the backs of her brother and her friends. In actual fact, his feelings aside, it was none of his bloody business! But that didn't stop him worrying. Ginny Weasley held him in her hands like a Ming vase, and she didn't even know it. One word from her and he would smash into a thousand pieces!
"How has your morning been?" she asked Ron, ignoring his scowl.
"Oh, fine. We've only been told we can't go to Hogsmeade unless we go with the lower years on assigned weekends because of rampant Death Eater threats, but otherwise - "
"Oh, shut up, Ron!" retorted Hermione. "It was nothing like that!"
"You said - "
"I was theorizing."
Ron let his head fall onto his arms despairingly, letting out a pained groan. If it was sympathy he was striving for, he didn't get any from his sister.
"What on earth - ?" exclaimed Ginny, leaning forward intently. Hermione waved aside her curiosity.
"He's just being melodramatic, Gin," she explained, in the sort of tone a mother would use to apologise for the bad behaviour of her little child. She then proceeded to elaborate on Professor McGonagall's announcement.
"And did you say Sirius and Remus have disappeared too?" asked Ginny, thoughtfully. She didn't wait for a reply, but stood up hastily and muttered something under her breath before hurrying out of the Hall.
"All right, Miss Granger - " said Ron, fuming, "this is it! You can't tell me she's busy with schoolwork now!"
"Ron, where are you going?"
"After Gin, of course!"
"No, Ron!"
"She's hiding something, and I mean to find out what it is!"
Hermione stood up with him, as though she intended to grab hold of him before he could chase his sister through the school, but unfortunately for Hermione, the length of the table prevented her reaching him in time.
"Oh no!" she sighed, desperately. "Damn the boy!"
Harry swivelled round on the bench, taking her firmly by the wrist. "All right, 'Mione - spill the beans. What do you know?"
"Nothing!"
"Oh yes you do, or you wouldn't be so worried! What's going on with Ginny?"
Hermione dropped her eyes and shifted, awkwardly. "I can't tell you."
"Why not?"
"Because - because I promised."
Harry's heartbeat began to race. "It's that bad, is it?" he said, softly.
"Oh, Harry! I wish I could tell you! I know what you're thinking, and I - I - I'm so sorry!"
She tore her arm away and dashed out of the Hall, leaving Harry shaking with panic. He saw her outline disappear through the doors before his eyes slid out of focus.
"Got a problem, Potter?"
Harry turned to see Draco Malfoy standing at his shoulder, viewing him with the customary caustic gaze, arms crossed arrogantly over his lean chest.
"Bit out of your depth, perhaps?" he drawled.
Harry narrowed his eyes and glared back at him, wishing he could find a suitable retort more readily. Malfoy leaned down menacingly, speaking in a low voice to avoid being overheard.
"Take my advice, Potter, and back off the Weasley girl. She's in it up to her neck, and it's not going to be you she runs to when she falls apart."
Harry felt icy fingers run up and down his spine as Malfoy's words slipped from his lips like silver poison.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Forget it, Potter. If I know what's going on and you don't - I think that says it all, don't you?" He straightened his back, tossing his sleek, blonde waves away from his eyes before curving his lips into a cruel smile. "See you around."
Harry was torn between wanting to storm up behind him and beat the living hell out of him, and slinking into the shadows alone to ease the thumping pulse of blood through every vein in his body. Luckily for somebody, Malfoy was lost in the exodus that swamped the Entrance Hall, making the former course of action impossible even if Harry had tried to pursue it. Instead, he remained frozen in his seat until the Hall had emptied itself, Malfoy's words ringing in his head.
He needed air. He needed a long walk, so he could think.
***
Ron looked anxiously towards the portrait hole for what seemed like the hundredth time that evening.
"Where the heck is he?" he muttered, fiercely.
"I expect he wants to be alone," replied Hermione, sinking further into the armchair she was occupying, her nose buried deep in a thick, dusty book from the Library.
"Why?"
"Oh, Ron, I don't know. He needs to think."
"What about? What's happened that you won't tell me about?"
Hermione was silent. Ron studied her downcast face intently.
"She's my sister, 'Mione," he said, softly. "And Harry is my best friend. If either of them had a problem, you would tell me, wouldn't you?"
"It's not my place to say anything."
Ron considered for a while. "Do you know where he is right now?"
"I just said that I didn't."
"Well, do you think you could take one of your infamous educated guesses, then?" suggested Ron, impatiently.
Hermione let out a long sigh and set her book aside. Slowly she lifted her eyes to meet his gaze. "He often sits by the lake. But Ron, don't try and bully information out of Harry, or Ginny."
Ron stared at her suspiciously. "The way you say that makes it sound like there's more between those two than meets the eye."
"Of course there is! Hadn't you even noticed?" Hermione glanced around the common room, aware that she had raised her voice slightly. "The night of Harry's party - what we talked about afterwards - I thought - "
"You thought what?" snapped Ron.
"I thought you'd guessed." She could feel her cheeks growing hot, and steeled herself for an ear-bashing. But it didn't come.
Ron leaned back in his chair with a relaxed sigh, never breaking eye-contact.
"I'm not totally blind, 'Mione."
"You DID know!"
"Of course I know! I knew way before Harry's party! Bloody hell, 'Mione, you don't give me much credit, do you?"
Now her cheeks were positively burning, with embarrassment as well as growing anger.
"You didn't say anything!"
"Neither did you!"
Silence fell as they stared at each other in surprise and indignation. They didn't see the last group of fifth-year girls make a swift exit up the stairs to the dormitories.
Hermione was the first to speak. "So, I've been pussy-footing around for over two months, trying not to break confidence, and you knew all along? Did Harry tell you?"
"No. Did Ginny tell you?"
"No, I guessed."
"You guess way too much."
"But you agree with me this time, don't you?"
"For once, yes."
"And you're not angry?"
Ron blinked. "Why, should I be?"
"Well - I always thought - you and Ginny have always been - well, you know - I just assumed - "
"You assumed I'd go on the defensive and accuse Harry of having dishonourable intentions towards my little sister?"
"Well, what of it? That's what Harry thinks!"
Ron didn't answer, but fidgeted uncomfortably. "I can't say I like the idea of Ginny being hurt, and let's face it - Harry's not exactly the safest boyfriend in the world, is he?"
"Oh, I KNEW you'd have a problem with this!"
Ron leaned forward and took her by the arm, pulling her towards him with such abruptness that she fell to her knees at his feet, gasping as his head bent close to her face.
"But then, neither am I."
Hermione felt her heart pump louder, until she was sure he would hear it, unless it burst out of her chest first.
Did he just say what I think he said?
He released her arm and rose to his feet, apparently unperturbed by what had just come out of his mouth.
He can't have meant it like that, she thought, desperately. Not Ron. It wasn't a Ron thing to say.
"Come on," he said, his blue eyes flashing fire. "Screw the curfew. Let's go find him before he flings himself off the ramparts."
Trying to conceal her shaken emotions, she allowed him to pull her neatly to her feet and guide her out of the portrait hole.
***
It was long past curfew, and not a soul was disturbing the peaceful silence of the evening. The moon and stars were the only sources of light as Harry crossed the fragrant courtyard towards the school, hoping he wouldn't be spotted. It was rare that he should be caught out of bounds without his father's cloak to hide him, but he had never intended to stay away for so long. His thoughts just kept coming and coming -
Hagrid had been helpful, in a way. He'd cheered him up at least, and made him promise to come again. It was nice to sit in the oversized armchairs in his cosy house, listening to Fang's whining snores and the crackle of the fire. For once, Hagrid had not insisted upon talking all the time. Perhaps it was some inner sensitivity that made him realise that Harry needed companionship without the conversation.
The corridors through the ground and first floors were deserted, and Harry was able to creep unseen up the stairs and past Filch's dark office. It was just as well really, for a midnight confrontation over school rules would put the icing on the cake well and truly. All in all, it had been an utterly terrible day.
As he climbed the stairs up to the fourth floor, Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Automatically he brought out his wand, keeping to the shadows, his eyes searching the corridors for any sign of movement. He could feel another presence close by, and it was an ominous sensation.
A shift in the light that flooded the hallway from the tall windows revealed a furtive figure moving noiselessly down towards the lower floors. Harry had never seen a man move so fast, and so cautiously at the same time. Whoever it was, he was moving like a surefooted cat, and he was most definitely heading for somewhere that he was not supposed to be. It was not a teacher - Harry would have recognised the style of walking. Besides, no teacher would need to move with such stealth, lurking in the corridors in the middle of the night. He thought for a split second of Sirius or Remus, returning from their mission, or whatever it had been. They had reason to prowl around under cover of darkness, since the presence of Order members in the castle was a strict secret. Their business was important enough to force them to keep to the shadows like ghosts.
But no - the figure was too slender and sinister. Almost snake-like in its caution -
Then, as the figure passed beneath a window, and turned its head to glance over its shoulder, Harry saw its face in the glimmering moonlight.
Malfoy.