CHAPTER 6
Ginny sits in a chair by the fire, attempting her homework, when Ron comes in. Classes are over, and Harry hasn't come back yet.
"Have you seen Harry?" Ginny asks of Ron when she sees him sit down across from her glaring at his books that are on the floor, elbows on his knees. No doubt N.E.W.T.s cause him a ridiculous amount of homework as well. When he doesn't answer, she asks, "Are you waiting for your books to apologize to you for being so full?"
His brooding look deepens, "They should," he mumbles.
"Even if books could speak I don't think they would apologize for supplying you with so much knowledge. That is, knowledge you'd have if you read them." Ginny tells him, vaguely reminding him of someone she knows, but prefers to push that thought away. Fortunately, Ron in all his perceptive glory and tact, picks up on it. He turns his attention to Ginny.
"You sounded just like Hermione."
"Wonderful," and she wonders if he'll pick up on her sarcasm. He does.
"You really should to talk to her."
"No. I really shouldn't. And where is Harry?" she asks, remembering she hasn't seen him since lunch and he should be back, at least to drop off his books. He shrugs, not looking at her. "Ron." she warns. "I know you know where he is." He still looks, not at her, but at his feet. He really must get new shoes, and he really must tell her. He wonders if the latter is true. "Ron. Where is Harry?" Finally, he does look up at her, and sighs.
"After class he told me he was going to talk to Hermione." he gave up. Ginny froze. Somehow she didn't care, and, then again, she was terribly furious.
"Where?" she asked. Well, it was more of a demand, but …
Ron knew that tone, it was the calm before the storm, but he really didn't know where they were. He wonders if she'll believe him before telling her he doesn't know.
"Where." A hint of more force, but still rather calm.
"I really don't know." he declares, a bit angered that she doesn't believe him. He won't lie to her. He'll ignore her like hell, but he won't lie to her. Ginny glares at him. She knows he really doesn't know, but he could have found out. Or maybe it's jut because he's there and she has to direct her anger somewhere.
Abruptly, she stands, letting the books on her lap fall to the floor. One last look thrown at Ron and she runs out, in search of her boyfriend and - her lip curls in disgust - the girl. She stops at the top of the stairs for a moment and contemplates where they may be. The problem is she can't think straight. Looking ahead of her she sees a portrait of a young girl and boy spinning in a field, they couldn't be older than seven. There are students at the end of the hallway. Students that are coming up the stairs, students that are on the other sets of stairs. She's thinking of what Harry and Hermione could be doing. If they really are only talking and what they could be talking about. Dozens of areas around the castle fly into her mind. What they could be doing flies into her mind.
Suddenly, Ginny feels sick. The students that were coming up the stairs are beginning to blur as they walk past her and look at her, strangely, she assumes, for she can't exactly see their faces. One of them asks if she's okay, and vaguely she nods. Hesitantly, after a moment they carry on and she's left with the portraits that are spinning and flipping. Everything around her is moving so fast.
She has that Potions essay on the floor of the common room. Ron's probably angry with her now. Harry and Hermione. Kissing Draco. She doesn't want to look down. She closes her eyes and shakes her head to clear her mind, but when she opens them again, everything is worse. The world is spinning faster than she can stand and she doesn't. Her knees lock and everything goes black, but not before the stairs rise up to face and she hears a scream that doesn't belong to her.
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Zabini or Snape? When it was lunch, Draco is vaguely aware of the fact; when it was dinner, Draco was vaguely aware of the fact. When he was in class he was vaguely aware of the fact. The cause of his barely there state? He was still thinking of Ginny, and whom he could talk to about her. Neither of his choices are very good. He doubted Zabini would be able to do anything but laugh. He doubted that he'd ever experienced anything like Draco feels now. He wondered what Snape would be able to tell him. Snape wouldn't laugh, but what would he think of Draco? That was the only thing that had stopped Draco from throwing the thought of Zabini out of his mind. Now, though, he has his decision and wonders if it's the right one. One thing really clinched the decision. Snape wouldn't tell all of Hogwarts. It was settled. Draco would try and talk to Professor Snape tonight, after dinner.
So that is what brings Draco to Professor Snape's office immediately following dinner.
"What is it you need, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked, not looking up from the recent essays the fourth years turned in the day before. Draco sat across from him in the chair on the other side of the desk.
"It's actually something personal professor. I need your advice." Now the professor's attention was caught. It wasn't very often a student come to him with personal matters. It wasn't often a student came to even complain to him about their grades for fear of him, or annoyance.
"Oh?"
"Yes. Actually, I'd much prefer it if you didn't speak to anyone else about it."
"Do you think that I want material to go into the faculty room and gossip with Professor McGonagall and Professor Sinistra?"
"Well, no, Professor, it's just a concern of mine." Draco shifts uncomfortably. Severus knows this look. Damn.
"This is about a girl, isn't it?" Draco's face tells him all he needs to know; a blind man could see that. He sighs, Poor kid. "I'm sorry, Draco, but this isn't exactly my area of expertise."
"Would - would you mind just listening to me, Professor. It's all I need. Just a few minutes?"
Don't do it Severus. You don't have time to listen to the whinings of a hormonal teenager. A voice inside tells him. Look at all those essays. They're burning to be marked with red. He ignores the voice and puts down his quill. There's something about this young man that Severus empathizes with. He leans back in his chair. "Well, go ahead. I'm listening." Damn. But Draco smiles.
"Well, there's this girl, obviously. I've only just become interested in her, and I can't understand why. She's average looking, she's not exceedingly intelligent, she's poor. She's almost childish, but she has this aura of maturity that she emits sometimes. I don't even really know her, but I want to. She just has this ability to draw me in to her. If it were anybody else, I wouldn't bother. I mean weeks ago I didn't bother. Only lately…" Draco stops to find the right words. He wonders if he could describe how he feels to the man sitting in front of him. On the side he wonders if he even really has to, if Snape maybe really does know how he feels. "I don't love her. I know that. It's more than I've felt for any other girl, but it's not love. She's just special. An angel in disguise if I dare venture. An angel in a human costume."
Snape really does listen. At first he dreads what he's agreed to, but then he finds he remembers a time when he felt something of what this young man in front of him is feeling right now. He can't help him though. He still wonders if there was anything he could do back then when it was his turn. Instead of answering he only nods, giving Draco the go-ahead, if there is anything more he wishes to day.
Draco feels like a fool. He can't help himself though; he has to let somebody know. After a few moments, he begins again. "I don't even know how she feels. She might, she's got a boyfriend though, some guy who isn't worth her time or attention. I hate it. I hated him before; this fact doesn't help him any. He hurts her. Not physically, but emotionally. Everybody knows that's the worst. The thing is I wonder if he even knows he's doing it, and I don't know if that's better or worse. Either way she doesn't deserve him. And I've even been wondering, if I deserve her. I probably don't. I don't think I do, but … but I could do better than he." Snape is at a loss. Should he divulge his own experience? It's not something he prefers to remember, much less talk about.
Draco tries to find a reaction from his professor. Was he even paying attention? He doubts it, that is until Snape leans forward on his elbows.
"Well, if you want good advice you came to the wrong person. But this is what I can give you," he pauses, "take your chance and make an attempt. That is all I can say really. You'll always wonder, either way."
Draco leans back in his chair taking "questionable" advice into consideration. That's exactly what he wants to do no doubt, but he also wants to keep face. What if he did and things didn't go the way he wished they would. Maybe he could get modified advice, if he disclosed the identity of the girl?
"It's Ginny Weasley, Professor," but the professor only shrugs, implying that it doesn't matter, after all it all comes down to something deeper. He only hopes it could be something deeper. Or does he?
