Disclaimer: All characters contained in this story belong to J.K. Rowling, I do not own anything at all besides this little plot!




Author's Note: Wow, thanks to everyone who left a review! A heaping mountain of love goes out to Allison, koolenmoon, Anjelline, mandy, Jbooger, Claire, Bottled Emotions, Kristin, Naomi, Flaming Bubbles of Death, Musii, Daintress and Eliza Starr. By the way, you can learn more about Demiguises in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, by the illustrious J.K. Rowling.


The Curse
By LotusBlake

Chapter 2

What? What terrible thing? What are you talking about? Ginny asked, questions popping up in her head faster than she could say house elf.

The little elf that called himself Dippy cringed, his bat-like ears flapping from side to side. Dippy is preferring not to say'tis an embarrassment to house-elves what he did.

Ginny frowned as she looked down at the strange creature. She really didn't know a whole lot about house elves. Her family couldn't afford one, and the ones at Hogwarts generally kept to themselves and were rarely seen at all. In fact, Ginny wouldn't have known house elves worked at Hogwarts had it not been for Hermione Granger's silly S.P.E.W. organization.

The redhead decided to take another stab at luring the information out of him. But if the terrible thing has to do with us, she glanced at Malfoy, hoping that he would note the way she so kindly included him in that us'. Then you really should tell us. We have the right to know.

The house elf's enormous eyes widened like two tennis balls. Dippy supposes he could tell. Master Dumbledore is a great man and may not punish Dippy for what he did

Ginny nodded, trying hard not to put pressure on the little elf. It turned out she didn't need to—Malfoy did it for her. Well? Are you going to tell me or not? Out with it, Snippy, I haven't got all day to listen to your foolish antics.

It's Dippy. Ginny corrected.

Pardon me, but you've obviously mistaken me for someone who gives a damn."

His face grew hard and cold and for a split second Ginny could have sworn she was looking into the face of Lucius Malfoy. The thought of that man made Ginny's blood pound in her ears. She despised everything about Malfoy Senior.

Dippy isn't going to tell you anything if you get his name wrong! Ginny shot back, staring into Draco's searing grey eyes. She turned back to the house elf. Go on, Dippy, it's all right. You won't get punished if you tell us.

Dippy didn't reply and he seemed lost in thought. Ginny found herself still staring at Draco, and as much as she wanted to avert her eyes from his heated gaze, she just couldn't bring herself to do it.

Finally, Dippy spoke. Well, Dippy supposes he has to tell sooner or laterDippy was helping prepare the breakfast—pumpkin juice he was making—and by accident he bumps into a long pipe and it breaks. Odd, reallyDippy thinks pipes should be stronger. Anyway, he thinks they is important pipes, so he goes to inform the main elf of what happened. But while he was gone Dippy could not finish his sentence, as a sudden sobbing wail escaped his lips. It was terrible, Miss. All Dippy can say is that he hopes very much that you did not drink any of the pumpkin juice after what fell in it from the pipes!

Ginny paled. The pumpkin juice—it had tasted funny when she drank it.

Draco Malfoy seemed on the same track as she was. So, you mean to tell me that you served poisonous pumpkin juice at Hogwarts? His voice was careful and unfazed, and Ginny was impressed that he hadn't lost his temper yet.

No, not Dippy! It was another elf who served the drink.

Yes, but the point is that I'm poisoned and--

Ginny didn't wait to hear the rest of Malfoy's statement. Look, I still don't understand. Exactly how are we poisoned?

A deep and booming voice from the doorway. I believe I can answer that, Miss Weasley,

There stood Professor Dumbledore peering from above his half moon spectacles, a grave expression on his aged face.

Ginny exclaimed, wondering how long he had been standing there. The sight of the elderly wizard clad in his deep blue robes filled her with hope, but also reminded her that this situation must really be serious. If Dumbledore is here then things can't be good. I really am intoxicated...

Good morning, Miss Weasley, Mr. Malfoy. You seem to have been the only two early birds this morning, but unfortunately on this day the early bird does not catch the worm, in a manner of speaking. His eyes seemed to twinkle for a split second before he continued.

As I'm sure you've heard from Dippy, when he left to find the Main House-Elf and inform him pipe breakage, some of the contents from the pipe spilled into the juice—sludge, dust, sewage—that sort of thing. Unfortunately, another elf noticed no one tending to the juice and being the good house elf that she was, she mixed the pot herself, completely oblivious to what had fallen in. When the beverage was finished she sent it up to the Hogwarts Kitchens. We have removed all of the pumpkin juice from Hogwarts grounds, so luckily, you and Mr. Malfoy have been the only ones affected.

Ginny couldn't believe her ears. Sewage? She had just drank an entire glass of sewage?

Draco hissed, interrupting her thoughts. Lucky! You're calling me lucky? I've just been poisoned—for all you know I'll die. I'll have you know that my father will be informed immediately--wait until he hears. He'll have your job for this, you know.

Professor Dumbledore sighed softly. Mr. Malfoy, please calm yourself down. You are not going to die. In fact, I've just informed Madame Pomfrey of your and Miss Weasley's state, and she'll have you fixed up in no time at--.

I don't think you understand, professor. I may be perfectly fine today, but who knows what else you and that poor excuse for a house elf might cook up another time? Tomorrow night I may be served poisonous treacle! Next Wednesday it'll be poisonous stew! The least you can do is present that fucking disgrace of a house elf with clothes.

Language, Mr. Malfoy," warned Professor Dumbledore, although he did not seem very upset. "Now, both of you, go off to the infirmary before Madame Pomfrey has a nervous break-down.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Did it taste bad?

Did you know it was poisonous?

Are you all right?

Does your stomach hurt?

Questions flooded a drowsy Ginny Weasley as she sat in the infirmary bed, a pack of concerned faces around her. Malfoy was in a matching twin bed next to her own, but she couldn't catch a glimpse of him with everyone in her way. It was making her nervous, the way there were some students here that were looking anxiously at her, although she had never spoken to them in her life.

Ron's freckled face emerged in the crowd.

Give Ginny some space! Come on, move it, Dean, she needs breathing room.

Dean and the others shuffled out of the way, and Ginny noticed that her nightstand was packed with an assortment of candies and Get Well cards that must have turned up along with all these students an hour ago.

Ron, really, I'm all right. Ginny said. She had told the crowd that she was fine eight times so far this morning, but no one had listened. For a bunch of people that were supposed to be concerned, it seemed that they just wanted to know all the technicolor details of her poisoning. They didn't want to hear that it was just a minor stomach ache and that she'd be back on her feet in no time—they wanted to hear that she was gravely ill and it was all somehow Malfoy's fault.

So, what did it taste like? Finnigan asked, obviously hoping to hear that the pumpkin juice had been dreadful.

It didn't taste that bad. It only was slightly off in flavor—

Yes, but afterwards you must have felt terrible!

Ginny sighed. "No, I was fine afterwards because Madame Pomfrey gave me an antidote."

"Yes, but your stomach must be hurting!"

Ginny groaned inwardly. This was not working at all--she didn't want to be questioned, she just wanted to be left alone.

Look, as much as I appriciate all of you coming down here, I'm fine, really I am. I just need some rest.

Luckily, at that exact moment Madame Pomfrey bustled in, and upon hearing Ginny's words almost threw a temper tantrum. Can't you see that my patients need peace and quiet? Get out of here! Go on! You can visit her this afternoon, after classes if you want to

Classes! Ginny got to miss all of her classes for the day. At least that's one good thing about today. The only problem is that I have to spend my one day off with that slimy git, Malfoy.

Speaking of Malfoy, now that the her visitors had cleared out, she could see Malfoy laying only a few feet away, a sheet covering most of his body. Despite the way Ginny felt about him, she couldn't help admitting to herself that he really looked nice with his blond hair all mussed and the way he was laying in bed. He was facing the ceiling, but his eyes were shut. I wonder if he's sleepingGinny thought to herself, quickly regretting the thought. Who cares if he was sleeping or not? Certainly not her!

I'm not asleep, Weasley. Draco said, startling Ginny like a caught deer. Could he have somehow read her mind? How was that possible? He can't be reading my mind...he's just a good guesser, I suppose.

Ginny cleared her throat. Good for you, Malfoy.

I only let you know, Weasley, because it makes me uncomfortable when you stare at me like I'm the last lemon drop in the box. Although, I must admit I'm glad you like what you see.

Ginny could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. Go away, Malfoy, she said, knowing that it sounded childish.

How can I, Weasley? I'm suffering from poison and I need my rest just as much as you do.

How much pumpkin juice did you drink, anyway? Ginny asked, curious.

I thought you wanted me to leave you alone. Malfoy drawled, a smirk right back on his face. For a Gryffindor, you're rather hypocritical.

Ginny fought back the urge to jump out of bed and slap him flat across the face. Trying to calm down, she shrugged her infirmary sheets closer around her shoulders. At least I'm no liar,

Liar?" Draco scoffed. "Tell me, Weasely, when have I lied to you? Draco's eyes connected with hers, and she quickly looked away. If you're referring to my calling you a hypocrite I'm afraid it's called the truth'.

You know what I'm talking about, Malfoy. Remember the demiguise hair this morning? I was busy writing down what you told me like a good little girl. That is, until I realized the truth--that you lied to me. You just wanted me to get a failing mark. And to think I almost believed you!

Draco was silent for a moment, and when he spoke his voice was calm and collected. I was telling the truth that time, Weasley. Go look in the Library, if you don't believe me.

Ginny turned and looked into his hypnotizing eyes. They looked more honest then she had ever seen them before. But then again, knowing Malfoy, it was all part of his plan. Fine, I will.

Ginny Weasley made a promise to herself that first thing the next morning she would go to the library and catch that ferret in his tracks.


Author's Note : I hope I didn't leave too much of a cliffhanger! Please take a small moment of your time to review, I would love to hear any of your questions, comments, concerns, flamings, etc. Any type of review is welcomed—I would just love to hear something from you!.