"Mr. Malfoy. McGonagall wants to see you."
"Wha? Oh, ok," I grumbled. Slowly, I stood and attempted to tidy myself up a bit. A Malfoy must always look better than everyone else. "Does that make me shallow?" I asked myself.
I finally stumbled into the main tent, looked McGonagall in the eye, and said, "Do you really expect me to be able to efficiently work on one hour's sleep?"
McGonagall smiled. "Desperate times call for desperate measures, Draco. Now, the profiles are done. That's them," she said pointed to a closed box on the ground.
"Grand! There are a lot them aren't there?" I lifted the box, and, sadly enough, had slight difficulty doing so.
McGonagall laughed slightly, and looked down at her shoes. She looked much older; the War had taken its toll on her; however, it was easy to see the vitality and drive still contained with in spirit. It reminded me to Dumbledore. Then again, he died.
I shrugged and repositioned the box in my arms.
"Everything alright, Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagall questioned.
"Yes. Just thinking that optimism is key during times like these, yet it is never plentiful enough," I made up, not wanting to tell her what I was really thinking.
"Indeed, Draco," she sighed. "Now you best be on your way. You've got many people to locate."
"I'm starting now? Right now?"
"Yes, we cannot waste any time."
"But- I- it- fine. Should I owl when I have information? Or floo?"
"Which ever seems safer at the time. I trust your judgment."
"Why?" I asked. "Why do you think you can trust me? What makes you believe that I won't leave with this list and use it against you?"
"I don't know. Hope, perhaps. The knowledge that you went against Voldemort by your own choice, and I highly doubt you'll go back. Unless, of course, this is some master scheme of yours- is it?"
"If it was, do you think I'd tell you?"
"Now, Draco, you know very well that I cannot read your mind and tell you what you would say," McGonagall retorted.
I cocked an eyebrow at her and gave her my trademark smirk. Then, once again shifting the box, I turned to leave.
"Good luck, Draco," McGonagall called.
"I don't need it," I said over my shoulder.
Within a matter of minutes the main tent and the entire camp was a good distance behind me. Thoroughly annoyed by the box of profiles, I decided to shrink it. I fished my wand out of my coat pocket and held it between my teeth, shuffling through the profiles. Finally, I found one that said the person had been most recently spotted on the outskirts of London (or rather what once was London). I rolled up the piece of paper and stuck in my pocket, removed my wand from my mouth, and cast a spell to shrink the box. After some rearranging, the shrunken box was safely in my pocket along with my wand, and the single profile was in my hand.
I looked down at the name on the profile. "Ginny Weasley? Oh, of all the bloody profiles I had to pick from, I had to pick hers! Brilliant. Bloody brilliant!" I yelled at no one. Then I stomped my feet once or twice, groaned, and took off walking.
Twenty minutes of walking brought me to my destination. London was a mess. Collapsed buildings, rubble everywhere, and it was eerily deserted and silent. I realized I was holding my breath, so I let it out slowly, my shoes crunching and cracking on the debris as I walked.
The sun was shining bright for the first time in days. Of course, I'm not one to stop and admire. Who stops to admire the sun? I kept strolling.
Then, in the distance, I spotted a building that wasn't demolished or on the verge of collapsing. As I got closer, I saw a little sign on the door. "Teacup Tavern: food, shelter, and care," it read. I hadn't eaten breakfast, and this seemed decent enough to eat at. So I went in.
"Hello. Can I help you?" a middle-aged woman croaked.
"Yes," I replied. "I would like something to eat."
"Ok-" she began, but I interrupted.
"But first- I'm looking for someone. A woman by the name of Ginny-"
"Spelled G-i-n-n-y?" she asked.
"Yes. Do you know her?"
"She's working here. Hold on. I'll get her," the lady said. She walked a few feet to a door and opened it just enough to stick her head in. "Ginny! There's a heck of a handsome man here to see you!"
I rolled my eyes and groaned to myself. I wanted to hit the woman with the croaking voice.
"What are you talking about, Maribelle?" A young girl came gliding through the door. She was wearing a hideous brown, patched dress and drying her hands on her stained white apron. Her face was gorgeous except for the splotches of dirt. She had wide, confused chocolate brown eyes, pale skin, chapped lips, and cheeks flushed pink.
She blinked a few times when she saw me. Then she shook her head and said, "I'm sorry. Do I know you, sir?"
"Yes and no."
"What kind of answer is that?"
"Are you Ginny?" I asked.
"Yes. Why?"
"I must speak with you," I insisted.
"He fancies you!" Maribelle whispered too loudly.
I cleared my throat. "Could we go- outside maybe?"
"OK," Ginny replied, glaring at Maribelle and punching her lightly.
She followed me out the front entrance, and, once outside, I turned to face her.
"Ginny Weasley," I said.
"It's been quite a while- Draco," she responded with a neutral face.
"Too long, perhaps. Tell me, why are you here? Working in this-place?"
"I wanted to help out, and this," she said, gesturing towards the tavern, "seemed like the right thing to do."
I nodded. "And why did you leave and come here so quickly after Voldemort's death?"
Ginny hesitated slightly before answering. "Well," she said, taking a deep breath, "I figured since the fighting was over, I could no longer be of service there, so I left."
"Service to whom?" I quickly questioned.
"You have to ask that question of me?"
"I don't know you, Ginny. What makes you think we have some kind of relationship with each other?"
"I- well, we do have a relationship. Mind you, it's not the most pleasant."
"You're avoiding the question, Ginny."
"You're paranoid, Draco. I'm no more on Voldemort's side than you are!" she retorted.
I shook my head. "I don't like these answers I am getting. Why don't you accompany me on my journey?"
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"You're coming," I growled at her. "Now, get anything you might need. We should also pack some food, in case we get stranded somewhere."
"Malfoy!" Ginny yelled, "I'm not simply packing up and shipping off with you! I have obligations here, you know!"
I grabbed her arm and pulled her close to me. "Get. Your. Things," I whispered, shoving her back towards the door.
Ginny flipped her hair out of her face and sighed angrily. Then she stomped inside. I followed, saying to myself, "This trip will be better- more fun- with Ginny Weasley coming along." I laughed under my breath. I watched her gather up some food and put some clothing in a small bag. She paused every now and then to give me an ominous stare. "Better indeed," I whispered under my breath, giving her the trademark smirk.
"Wha? Oh, ok," I grumbled. Slowly, I stood and attempted to tidy myself up a bit. A Malfoy must always look better than everyone else. "Does that make me shallow?" I asked myself.
I finally stumbled into the main tent, looked McGonagall in the eye, and said, "Do you really expect me to be able to efficiently work on one hour's sleep?"
McGonagall smiled. "Desperate times call for desperate measures, Draco. Now, the profiles are done. That's them," she said pointed to a closed box on the ground.
"Grand! There are a lot them aren't there?" I lifted the box, and, sadly enough, had slight difficulty doing so.
McGonagall laughed slightly, and looked down at her shoes. She looked much older; the War had taken its toll on her; however, it was easy to see the vitality and drive still contained with in spirit. It reminded me to Dumbledore. Then again, he died.
I shrugged and repositioned the box in my arms.
"Everything alright, Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagall questioned.
"Yes. Just thinking that optimism is key during times like these, yet it is never plentiful enough," I made up, not wanting to tell her what I was really thinking.
"Indeed, Draco," she sighed. "Now you best be on your way. You've got many people to locate."
"I'm starting now? Right now?"
"Yes, we cannot waste any time."
"But- I- it- fine. Should I owl when I have information? Or floo?"
"Which ever seems safer at the time. I trust your judgment."
"Why?" I asked. "Why do you think you can trust me? What makes you believe that I won't leave with this list and use it against you?"
"I don't know. Hope, perhaps. The knowledge that you went against Voldemort by your own choice, and I highly doubt you'll go back. Unless, of course, this is some master scheme of yours- is it?"
"If it was, do you think I'd tell you?"
"Now, Draco, you know very well that I cannot read your mind and tell you what you would say," McGonagall retorted.
I cocked an eyebrow at her and gave her my trademark smirk. Then, once again shifting the box, I turned to leave.
"Good luck, Draco," McGonagall called.
"I don't need it," I said over my shoulder.
Within a matter of minutes the main tent and the entire camp was a good distance behind me. Thoroughly annoyed by the box of profiles, I decided to shrink it. I fished my wand out of my coat pocket and held it between my teeth, shuffling through the profiles. Finally, I found one that said the person had been most recently spotted on the outskirts of London (or rather what once was London). I rolled up the piece of paper and stuck in my pocket, removed my wand from my mouth, and cast a spell to shrink the box. After some rearranging, the shrunken box was safely in my pocket along with my wand, and the single profile was in my hand.
I looked down at the name on the profile. "Ginny Weasley? Oh, of all the bloody profiles I had to pick from, I had to pick hers! Brilliant. Bloody brilliant!" I yelled at no one. Then I stomped my feet once or twice, groaned, and took off walking.
Twenty minutes of walking brought me to my destination. London was a mess. Collapsed buildings, rubble everywhere, and it was eerily deserted and silent. I realized I was holding my breath, so I let it out slowly, my shoes crunching and cracking on the debris as I walked.
The sun was shining bright for the first time in days. Of course, I'm not one to stop and admire. Who stops to admire the sun? I kept strolling.
Then, in the distance, I spotted a building that wasn't demolished or on the verge of collapsing. As I got closer, I saw a little sign on the door. "Teacup Tavern: food, shelter, and care," it read. I hadn't eaten breakfast, and this seemed decent enough to eat at. So I went in.
"Hello. Can I help you?" a middle-aged woman croaked.
"Yes," I replied. "I would like something to eat."
"Ok-" she began, but I interrupted.
"But first- I'm looking for someone. A woman by the name of Ginny-"
"Spelled G-i-n-n-y?" she asked.
"Yes. Do you know her?"
"She's working here. Hold on. I'll get her," the lady said. She walked a few feet to a door and opened it just enough to stick her head in. "Ginny! There's a heck of a handsome man here to see you!"
I rolled my eyes and groaned to myself. I wanted to hit the woman with the croaking voice.
"What are you talking about, Maribelle?" A young girl came gliding through the door. She was wearing a hideous brown, patched dress and drying her hands on her stained white apron. Her face was gorgeous except for the splotches of dirt. She had wide, confused chocolate brown eyes, pale skin, chapped lips, and cheeks flushed pink.
She blinked a few times when she saw me. Then she shook her head and said, "I'm sorry. Do I know you, sir?"
"Yes and no."
"What kind of answer is that?"
"Are you Ginny?" I asked.
"Yes. Why?"
"I must speak with you," I insisted.
"He fancies you!" Maribelle whispered too loudly.
I cleared my throat. "Could we go- outside maybe?"
"OK," Ginny replied, glaring at Maribelle and punching her lightly.
She followed me out the front entrance, and, once outside, I turned to face her.
"Ginny Weasley," I said.
"It's been quite a while- Draco," she responded with a neutral face.
"Too long, perhaps. Tell me, why are you here? Working in this-place?"
"I wanted to help out, and this," she said, gesturing towards the tavern, "seemed like the right thing to do."
I nodded. "And why did you leave and come here so quickly after Voldemort's death?"
Ginny hesitated slightly before answering. "Well," she said, taking a deep breath, "I figured since the fighting was over, I could no longer be of service there, so I left."
"Service to whom?" I quickly questioned.
"You have to ask that question of me?"
"I don't know you, Ginny. What makes you think we have some kind of relationship with each other?"
"I- well, we do have a relationship. Mind you, it's not the most pleasant."
"You're avoiding the question, Ginny."
"You're paranoid, Draco. I'm no more on Voldemort's side than you are!" she retorted.
I shook my head. "I don't like these answers I am getting. Why don't you accompany me on my journey?"
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"You're coming," I growled at her. "Now, get anything you might need. We should also pack some food, in case we get stranded somewhere."
"Malfoy!" Ginny yelled, "I'm not simply packing up and shipping off with you! I have obligations here, you know!"
I grabbed her arm and pulled her close to me. "Get. Your. Things," I whispered, shoving her back towards the door.
Ginny flipped her hair out of her face and sighed angrily. Then she stomped inside. I followed, saying to myself, "This trip will be better- more fun- with Ginny Weasley coming along." I laughed under my breath. I watched her gather up some food and put some clothing in a small bag. She paused every now and then to give me an ominous stare. "Better indeed," I whispered under my breath, giving her the trademark smirk.