Head Spin
Draco Malfoy let out an impatient sigh; he had been watching her all morning and…nothing. Not a foot out of place or a single hair astray. He supposed she did look a little frazzled and wide-eyed, but who was to say that wasn't her normal appearance? It wasn't as if he had ever really noticed her before; he had never even given a spare thought to the youngest Weasley never mind deciphering her every facial expression and move.
She had just been a fixture to him, another dratted Weasley in the Hogwarts background. Nothing special. Nobody important.
He didn't even hate her…of course he would throw in the odd remark, a 'swamp rat' here and a 'little runt' there, but that was only to be expected. Her brothers on the other, he despised with every bone in his body; one hour in a windowless room and a defenseless Ron would be his Christmas come early…but for her he felt nothing.
His cool eyes, so like his father's, travelled lazily back to the Gryffindor table where the girl sat staring at her uneaten toast, her fingers nervously playing with a strange ring which seemed to be melded on. Draco, thinking nothing of it, drew his hand through his sleek, blond hair, yet another feature he shared with his father. "Come on, come on Weasley, do something!" he said under his breath.
Ever since he had been set his 'mission' he had watched her, he had seen how her fists would slowly grind when people uttered the obligatory condolences. "I'm so sorry" they would say, not because they meant it but because it was the right thing to do. A person dies and you feel regret but that regret is nothing compared to the relief, the guilty relief that comes with the thought 'rather you than me'
At least I didn't get that Draco had thought at the time, somewhat bitterly. Only reliable old Dumbledore (the hypocrite!) had gone through the motions and gazed down his crooked nose with a look of compassion, only he had said softly "I'm sorry for your loss Draco", only he had bothered to remember that a boy had lost his father and that the same boy was feeling like the open wound would never heal.
Now tiring with his observation of Ginny, Draco thought for what must have been the millionth time, to why he had been set this task, what was it with this girl and why exactly did Voldemort care so much about her? But all those questions were futile, on that day he had been given no answers. On that day he had been given no choice.
It had all began with simplest of sounds.
Knock. Knock.
"Draco?" an excited sounding voice ventured "Are you awake?"
Draco, who hadn't slept properly since the disappearance, was laying on his bed, fully dressed, his grey eyes staring intently at the ceiling. His brow had knotted in annoyance as he recognized the pathetic voice. Mother. All I need he thought sullenly.
"Come in" he responded at last, making his exasperated voice sound as neutral as possible.
Narcissa Malfoy rushed in, a strangely eager expression on her once beautiful face. Draco cast a disgusted glare over to his oblivious mother, how wretched she looks! He thought what would father say? What would he say if he saw his trophy wife now?
His mother had once been prized for her appearance, 'the ice princess' they had once labelled her. She was the perfect wife; obedient, loyal, simple and most of all beautiful but now…Draco mentally scorned at the empty shell before him, Narcissa's long blonde hair was unkempt and matted, her face was smeared with yesterday's heavy make up; a painted mask which hid nothing. Her long nightdress, made of the finest silk, was creased and stained with alcohol, it hung off her skeletal frame, exposing not flesh but bone.
"Oh darling" she cooed, as she perched on Draco's bed "I have good news"
Draco's face remained expressionless; his mother had promised 'good news' everyday since his father had first gone missing. This was bound to be yet another snippet of useless gossip, leads which his mother was ecstatically believe in and which would eventually lead to nothing Every time his mother would fall in the trap of hoping and every time Draco watched without feeling.
If she doesn't want to face up to reality, then its her problem Draco had reasoned with himself let her keep her delusions
Narcissa leaned closer to Draco and said with a strange smile "Your father, he's alive"
"Yeah? Great" Draco replied unenthusiastically, how many times had he heard this?
His mother, oblivious to Draco's indifferent response, nodded fervently and said happily "Yes It's true! Finally he's coming home" she looked seriously at Draco for a moment and said sadly "I've missed him so much"
It was at this point when Draco had wanted to slap her, simply smack some sense into her empty head. She's so stupid! He knew full well that his father held little love for his wife; to him she was just another possession, a particularly pretty but ultimately worthless one. In his father's eyes she had served her purpose, she had provided him with an heir, a boy to carry on the family name.
Despite the many affairs on Lucius part and the constant violent arguments, she had stuck with him, too blind or too weak to leave. For that reason alone Draco hated her. He hated her frailty, unable to be a person without him at her side. In the past he had looked at them together, seen how his mother would hang on Lucius's every word, smiling and nodding at the expected times, and he had pitied his father. Actually felt sympathy for the man who had to abide with such a sniveling weakling.
"Anyway" Narcissa continued brightly, her eyes gleaming "Your daddy is coming home! Aren't you pleased darling?"
"Mother" Draco responded in a firm voice "How do you know? What makes this any different from yesterday or the day before? You said he was coming home last week remember? You got all dressed up and he never came did he? You can't keep doing this. You have to face reality!"
Narcissa's face changed into that of a spoilt child, denied of her favourite toy, and she said nastily "Oh what would you know?! You never even leave this room…stuck up here all the time, what would you know?"
She stood up and paced up and down the room, talking to herself, mumbling reassurances under her breath and shooting snide looks at her son.
"Oh what would he know? Stupid, stupid boy. Nothing like his father…ungrateful little brat"
Draco closed his eyes, not wanting to look at his pathetic excuse for a mother any longer. He desperately wished his father was here, his father who unlike the demented creature before him, he loved and respected. Lucius was a man you could look up to, not look down on and despise.
Narcissa suddenly stopped in her tracks and rushed over to Draco, her pallid, bony arms reaching out to envelop him.
"I'm so sorry Draco" she bleated, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. The stench of alcohol seemed to be stitched in her skin.
"I didn't mean that, you know I didn't. Oh… I love him so much it hurts. I just want him back then we can be a family again!" she finished with a hatefully hopeful look in her tear-swollen eyes. She moved closer to her son, any past restrain and dignity had long since disappeared.
"And we can get him back. You and me, together" she whispered gleefully "All he wants is one tiny thing in return and then he'll tell us where Lucius is"
Draco narrowed his eyes and asked in a slow voice "He? Who do you mean?"
"He? He?" Narcissa said mockingly "The Dark Lord of course, who else would I mean?" she smiled as if speaking to a toddler and added "silly boy!"
A sense of deep foreboding ran through Draco, a sense that this conversation, this day would only lead to ill consequences. He stared intently at his mother, whose gaunt face was far too close to his own; a mad streak could be seen on every inch of her wasted features.
"The Dark Lord? He's spoken to you" The last word was spat out; Draco couldn't see how his father's master could ever lower himself to speak to such a woman.
"Yes!" she responded in a voice which carried great pride, foolish pride.
"Yes! I was summoned and I went, of course I did. He told me that he can help us Draco…he can find my husband! All you have to do is…"
"Me!" Draco interrupted a hint of trepidation in his voice.
"Yes dear" his mother nodded eagerly, as if bestowing a great gift to him.
"You are to go to him tonight…he has a special job for you Draco. You're going to follow in your father's footsteps. You're going to serve the Dark Lord and bring Lucius back" she reached out her bony hand and lovingly stroked his horrified, chalk-white face.
"Yes baby" she cajoled "Tonight the Dark Lord will be waiting for you"
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"Remember what I told you boy!" a deep, gruff voice said to Draco. "When you go in bow your head and when asked, only when asked, speak properly, that means no insolent mumbling, got it?"
Draco, who had been blindfolded through the long walk in the forest, nodded in the general direction of the voice. Underneath his thick, black robes, an uncontrollable shiver of dread ran up and down his body. He carried the strength of the esteemed Malfoy family in his bones, his father's blood ran through his veins and he was Draco the Dragon, bastard of Slytherin house, but all this boiled down to nothing. None of it mattered; no comfort or consolation could be gained from a name.
He was seventeen years old and he was going to face a nightmare.
"Right one other thing…don't look in his eyes, don't dare to look at the Dark Lord" the voice growled and said spitefully "You are not worthy!"
Draco strongly resisted the urge to respond; swallowing his pride he answered dully "Fine, I'm ready"
The Death Eater let out a crackling, sardonic laugh and said dryly "You'll never be ready" his large hands moved to snatch away Draco's blindfold, as it did the boy swore he could smell the metallic tinge of blood.
Now free from his view of darkness, Draco looked around disorientated, his eyes slowly adapting to the new sight. He was in a long, dingy stone corridor, which was barely lit by sparse, floating fires. The decrepit ceiling, which seemed to be slowly sinking, was extremely low, adding to Draco's growing feeling of entrapment, no escape…he thought uneasily as he absorbed his grimy, underground prison.
"Go on then!" ordered the Death Eater. Draco quickly turned around to see his 'companion', a short but bulky man of fearsome appearance, pointing towards a concealed door at the very end of the corridor. Draco, with a look of intense apprehension, took a step forward and then stalled.
I don't want to do this! I really don't! He thought helplessly to himself. But no matter how many times he let his fear take over, it was no good, he had no choice.
Taking a deep breath, Draco walked bravely to the door. Ignoring his hammering heart and petrified mind, his fist knocked on the door.
No answer he thought with relief Perhaps he's not here he wished stupidly Perhaps…
"Enter!" a cold voice shrieked, dashing Draco's hopes and freezing his blood.
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Draco bowed to the Dark Lord, not daring to look up; he kept his eyes firmly on the ground. The infamous Malfoy bravado, which he had abundantly shown in the past, had all but deserted him. In the cold chamber, only one thought kept him from running out, only one reminder kept his feet still on the ground…father, this is for you. I'm doing this to get you back…
"Master Malfoy, how kind of you to join me. I hope your journey wasn't too uncomfortable." Voldemort said politely from his throne. If the words had come from anybody else they would have been harmless, mere pleasantries, but when they were uttered from his reptilian lips, they took on a whole new meaning; he could make the simplest word seem like a deadly threat.
"I apologize for the blindfold, but needs must. We've had a few…security problems of late. People wandering in from who knows where…people who don't know their place"
Voldemort smiled down at Draco, who of which was still staring at the floor as if his life depended on it.
"Won't you look at me boy? I'm I too grotesque for your delicate eyes!" Voldemort said in a soft, lethal voice. His horrible red eyes swept over the bowing teenager, a look of both simmering disgust and twisted lust burning brightly in them.
Draco's throat felt like sandpaper, rough and sore. Without replying he slowly lifting his head and gazed at his father's master.
Voldemort smirked and said gently "Good boy". If he saw the look of complete and utter revulsion on Draco's face, he chose to ignore it.
"Now you may be wondering why I called you here, why I spoke to your tart of a mother. She was delighted when I told her that Lucius was alive and I could find him. Oh yes, I warrant she would do almost anything for that information…." Voldemort leered suggestively at Draco, his bony hand reaching to caress himself before quickly moving away as he continued "But no, I wouldn't touch your father's leftovers. What I want in return is far more important to me, far more beneficial in the long run"
Draco, cringing slightly, forced himself to speak "You said you had information on my father, what is it?"
A high laugh sprang in the air, "Oh Draco my boy!" Voldemort teased "You have some spine after all, not many would demand from me. It's quite a novelty" he spoke in a light voice but one which carried a warning to Draco; remember who you're talking to!
"But no I will not tell you. Not yet. First you have to do something for me. You scratch my back; I scratch yours…so to speak. I want you to watch someone for me, I want you to follow their every move and report it back"
Draco looked speculatively at the Dark Lord, his curiosity overcoming his fear "That's all? That's all you want me to do?"
Draco had spent all day imaging the very worst of possibilities; he had disgusted himself with his own thoughts, images of the very lowest deeds of human nature had tainted his mind and threatened to weaken his will…but this he had not expected, he had not thought to get off so lightly.
Voldemort nodded and said simply "That will be all. Sounds simple enough doesn't it? A resourceful boy like you shouldn't find it too difficult"
Draco, not quite believing that this would bring back his father (it seemed far too easy…something felt wrong…) questioned Voldemort "If I do this you'll tell me about my father, you'll be good to your word?"
The Dark Lord smirked and lied "You have my word"
Lucius Malfoy did not raise a stupid child, Draco knew better than to swallow Voldemort's promises, promises that were as hollow as his mother's head. He quickly ran through the loop holes and pitfalls in his mind; if he did this there was a chance, however slim, that he could get his father back but if he walked out of this room (that's if he could) then he may never see his father again, never know if he was alive or dead. No, there was no alternative. He had no choice but to trust Voldemort, however foolish that may seem.
"Who?" Draco asked in a resigned but interested tone "Who do you want me to watch?"
"Ginny Weasley" replied Voldemort in a hungry voice. Warped desire flickered in his eyes and his forked tongue whipped out to wet his lips.
"What?!" Draco said in surprise what would he want with a Weasel? especially a little girl?! Draco wondered in disbelief. He had an image of the girl in question in his head, a small, whiny girl drooling over Potter, all garish red hair and freckles. Why her?
"My reasons are my own Master Malfoy. Do this task for me and I will reveal the fate of your father, if you refuse then you will never know. Before you make your choice, consider your poor mother…what would she do without her wittle hubbie" Voldemort finished scornfully.
"I'll do it" Draco stated without a second thought. If spying on one girl was all it took to return his father, then he would do it without question.
"Good" Voldemort smirked, his whole face lighting up with an unnerving glow, his manner seemed to scream victory.
"Good boy" he repeated. Nodding in dismissal he said "You may leave"
Draco, taking one last look at the distorted figure before him, walked over to the door and gratefully stepped through it.
He didn't see the strange, circular crystal which Voldemort brought out from under his robes. He didn't see how the Dark Lord held the object to his forehead and then towards his hungry red eyes, all the time whispering deathly murmurs in to it. He didn't see the crystal providing its answer through the swirling images, which moved as if mist around the object, before forming familiar figures. If he had seen, then he would have found his own face staring up at him, with a look of such awful emotion that he would never believe it to be true.
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"Nice ring" Hermione said over breakfast the following morning.
Ginny who had been mindlessly eating the dry toast, looked up in surprise at her friend, a look of bewilderment on her face.
"The ring, it's nice" Hermione said once more, this time gesturing to Ginny's finger where the strange, every colour ring shone.
Ginny slowly looked down at her finger and her breath caught, I forgot she thought stupidly How could I forget about that! All of last night came flooding back to her, the light, the strange creature Fainne but the thing she most remembered was Fainne's warning, the horrible idea that he would return…Tom would come back to claim her. Ginny shivered despite herself, although she had firmly decided not to believe Fainne; had sternly claimed that nothing could break her steely resolve of disbelief, there was no stopping the fear, the dreadful, unstoppable terror that would creep in every time she breathed. But worst of all there was another feeling, a hidden, horrible feeling…
Oh stop it! She demanded of herself you can't carry on like this! Scared of your own shadow! Where is the girl who stormed the ministry of magic, faced death eaters and came out alive? The self-pitying voice in her head replied nastily Oh you mean the tag along? They would have done a lot better if they didn't have little old you to look after! Young Ginny with her little black book and her stupid idea of friendship… that's all you wanted wasn't it, a friend? How pathetic are you? The only friend you can get is a mass-murdering monster and even he was only pretending!
"Shut up!" Ginny burst out aloud, sending her goblet of juice flying across the table. Luckily the great hall was all but deserted; only Hermione and one other person stared at the angry redhead.
"What is it?" Hermione asked, her brow furrowed in concern and her expression perplexed.
Ginny's white faced dread was quickly replaced by a burning red blush. Oh bugger!
Hastily thinking of a plausible excuse, Ginny stuck with the tried and tested "Nothing"
Hermione looked at her through shrewd eyes; with an uncanny resemblance to Professor McGonagall she started "Ginny…?"
"It's nothing!" Ginny said abruptly with a hint of anger.
Leaving the hall and her dry toast behind, Ginny walked out of the Great hall, not once looking back at Hermione.
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Ginny walked aimlessly down the corridor, her mind preoccupied with many muddled thoughts. The incident in the Great Hall had been far too close, not only had she embarrassed herself (what was new?) but she also gained Hermione's attention, something which would most certainly lead to unwanted worry from her brother. Ron had already begun to watch her, no doubt noticing her strange behaviour; it wouldn't be long before he began asking tricky questions, questions which she honestly couldn't answer.
For some reason she didn't want to tell anyone about her strange forest creature or the words of woe it had said. Even though the thoughts of Voldemort and his apparent interest, terrified her, she had no desire to share the horrid knowledge with anyone else. It would feel wrong to divulge such private matters, wrong to expose her connection with the Dark Lord. Ginny's common sense revolted at such an idea, that she wanted to somehow 'protect' Voldemort in whatever abstract way, left her sickened but there was no denying the truth.
Now she was beginning to come to terms with last nights revelations, a small part of her no longer felt fear, no, it had somehow gone beyond that. The tiny piece of herself which even she couldn't understand, had begun to feel something quite different from terror…it certainly wasn't happiness but then again it definitely wasn't dread.
"Shit!" Ginny swore, as a sudden pain surged through her side. A large bulk had bumped into her, sending rolls of parchment flying into the air. But before she had time to even look at the person, who had so rudely crashed into her, an unexpected feeling of light-headedness swept over her.
It seemed as if her whole mind had been rapidly washed away, only to be replaced by foreign thoughts. She no longer felt like herself, she felt blank, like a new sheet of paper. But at the same time inexplicably full, so full that she felt an explosion was imminent. Thoughts and memories, which were not her own, had begun to scream in her head. It was if a tornado of images was spinning, faster and faster, so fast she felt like she would burst from the chaos. Odd voices, people from an unfamiliar past, had begun to drum in her ears, some whispered, some cried and others shouted. But through the din, one voice stood out, one voice was a saint in the rabble. It was soft and tender, a woman's voice to be sure, it sang so sweetly and carried such love that Ginny could almost forget about the crescendo of voices which rang in her ears.
But the one voice was fading away, its beautiful sing-song voice being buried in the vocal mania. With a renewed sense of panic, Ginny blindly spread out her arms, looking for something to hold on to; a sense of reality to steady her.
Grasping out, Ginny tightened her fingers around a thin wrist. But instead of the cold skin bringing her back it only spun her on. She felt herself being dragged away from her body, leaving the comfort of her shell and being harshly funnelled into someone else.
She no longer simply felt that person's memories, she was is one…
"Please don't do this Sarah. You have no idea what he's like. You have no idea of his power" a youngish man said, his black eyes looking desperately at his lover. His long raven hair fell silkily around his pointed face and his arms were tightly holding onto her shoulders, as if to let go was to lose everything. Sarah smiled sadly and she reached up a hand to stroke his pale cheek, a look a pained determination in her big, blue eyes.
"You don't understand Severus, you don't know what its like to have something so terrible inside you, something you can't control. I feel like its tearing me apart, turning me inside out. I want to feel normal; I want to be a good person. This power…this gift is too much for me, all it brings is misery. The only way he'll stop corrupting me is if he dies"
Severus looked at Sarah, her unruly mass of honey curls circling her pretty face. He often wondered how he, a bastard son, a bullied boy and a horrid man, was deserving of such a beautiful person.
"There has to be another way" he spoke "Why should you throw away your life? We can find a way to control it, perhaps even strip your powers. Let others deal with him, let them die!"
Sarah winced and responded more firmly "Don't say that! You risk your life every day! Even if there is the slimmest chance of destroying him, I'm willing to try"
"I don't matter"
"Yes" Sarah said "You do. He's planning such awful things. When I manage to slip by his defences and look into his mind, the things I see are just…." She shivered and continued "depraved. He's planning on killing a child. A baby, Severus! I will not have the blood of a child on my conscience. I will not stand by and let him do that! And neither will you. My life is unimportant, if I fail there will come another, both stronger and braver than me"
"What do you mean?" he asked, disgusted that Sarah was speaking in such a way. He wouldn't lose her. He couldn't lose her.
Sarah's face took on the dreamy quality it possessed whenever she looked in the future, her eyes stayed closed for several seconds before opening; her iris were now red, as if a tiny flame burned in them.
"I can see her. I only hope that she has the strength to resist…."
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Ginny felt a wrenching hand pull her back from the memory. She pulled against it with all her might. She felt like she needed to see more of Sarah, she felt a deep affinity, almost a kinship with the woman. But it was no good, the hand was too strong. She began to feel the bizarre sensation of being transported from one body to the next. Within seconds she was in her own mind again, blessedly reunited with her own thoughts and being. Now that the voices were gone, her mind felt strangely empty, almost like a piece of herself had been stripped from her, lost in the abyss.
Suddenly realizing that she was still gripping on to the thin wrist, Ginny quickly let go and stared into the deathly pale face of Snape. As she looked into his dark eyes the oddest thought seemed to flow through her I can see you, I have seen inside you…Snape, I know you!
For the briefest of seconds she felt a triumphant sense of control, a seductive inner voice seemed to whisper 'You have the power, use it, use him' but this soon departed, leaving only the thinnest trace, as Snape snatched his arm away, a conflicted look contorting his face.
"What…?" He managed to rasp after a period of stifling silence. His eyes bored into hers, searching, accusing "…did you see?" he finished surprising both Ginny and himself.
How the hell does he know Ginny wondered, mouth agape I don't even know!
The stunned pair both still lay sprawled on the floor, eyeing each other with equal contempt and suspicion, when a large group of seventh years came bustling through the corridor, among them, Harry Potter. Harry immediately rushed over to Ginny, helping her up, whilst staring at Snape, a stern look in his green eyes.
"Are you ok?" he asked of the redhead, who still hadn't stopped glaring at the professor. Her mind was spinning. What just happened? She thought I was inside his head! Actually seeing his thoughts! His memories! Is this what Fainne mean? Is this my 'gift' or was it just…something else? And what about Sarah, I felt something when I saw her, some connection. I know, I just know that she has a part in all this, all the madness, all the secrets; she has or…had a part to play. I need answers…
Ginny, not noticing the boy at her side, moved closer to the figure on the floor, her initial confusion now turning to curiosity. But before she could question Snape, Harry drew her back and stood in front of her, leaving no choice but to look directly at him.
"Ginny are you ok?" he asked once more. He was frowning and his face was serious, as it often was these days.
Blinking, Ginny looked at Harry, only just acknowledging his presence. She responded in a distracted voice "Oh Harry, I'm fine…I just tripped and fell into…"
She looked around expecting to see beady black eyes surveying her; but Snape was gone, only a few rolls of parchment lay in his place.
She quickly glanced up and down the now bustling corridor, but the sweep of Snape's black robes was nowhere to be seen. She let out a small huff of frustration, for the first time ever she had wanted to see Snape and now he had disappeared…perfect!
"You heading to the common room?" Harry queried, taking note of Ginny's distracted demeanour and wild, searching eyes.
"Erm…" Ginny began absently "No. I wanted to find someone…I mean somewhere quite" she rubbed her head and added unconvincingly "I've got a killer headache. I should probably go and have a nap or something…" she trailed off, annoyed with her limited lying skills, especially with the boy in front of her.
"Yeah?" Harry responded wryly, his black eyebrows raised "Perhaps I could come with you, I feel a headache of my own coming on, Ron and Hermione are up to their usual 'I love you but I'm going to kill you' thing…"
Ginny spluttered, turning pink "You want to go have a nap…with me!?"
"What? Oh God! I didn't mean that!" Harry stammered, an embarrassingly bright blush colouring his cheeks. He nervously rubbed a hand through his messy hair and continued apologetically "Not that I wouldn't…I mean you're not…y'know…or anything"
Ginny's mouth quirked up and she commented dryly "Thanks (!)"
Shaking his head, Harry let out an uneasy little laugh and said "Sorry I have my bumbling idiot hat on today. What I meant to say, before I totally humiliated myself, was that, well, I was hoping we could have a talk. In private"
Ginny looked speculatively at Harry and said somewhat dubiously "Let me guess, an annoyingly overprotective sibling has something to do with this? One with a particular penchant, for bushy hair and chess, perhaps?"
Harry once again smiled wryly and said lightly "Why Miss Weasley, what a suspicious mind you do have…but no, I promise you Ron is oblivious" Harry dropped his voice and continued "Which is fortunate, since he'd probably string me up for talking to his little sister…alone"
Scoffing, Ginny agreed. Ron did like to ensure his sister's life was testosterone free zone.
"So what" she began hesitantly "did you want to talk about?" she was afraid that this little chat would soon turn into one of those 'It'll get better soon' conversations.
Turning suddenly serious, Harry looked down at the redheaded girl, a comfortable expression on his handsome face.
"I heard about what happened in Snape's lesson. I don't blame you; I mean who wouldn't want to tell the bastard where to stick his wand…But you needn't get into trouble for shouting; if you ever want someone to yell at…." He stopped and shifted nervously before adding "…I'm always here"
Ginny looked up at Harry in surprise. For the last few years she had always thought of him as Ron's friend, never considering the idea that he might want to be friends with her…or something else entirely. Not wanting to complicate things even further (is that possible?) she simply smiled and placed a friendly hand on his arm in thanks.
But in the instant her palm made contact with his body, a rush of energy ran through her, sending shivers down her spine. Unlike before with Snape, she didn't enter his mind, no, thus time was different. She felt suddenly stronger, like the magic within her had been tripled, it felt…glorious. His power, the unique power he possessed, rushed through her veins. She felt that if a snake was there right then, she would be able to command it at her will.
"Ginny?" Harry uttered breathlessly, he felt himself growing weaker all at once. His body was cooling, as a mysterious breeze streamed through him. Ginny, dizzy with the spasms of new power, quickly let her vibrating hand fall from his arm. As fast as it had come, the power drained out of her, leaving her winded and queasy.
Harry, still shaken but his strength returning, looked carefully at Ginny, not knowing whether the girl had anything to do with what had just happened. Perhaps it was just me he justified too many late nights
"Harry…" Ginny started, wondering what she could possibly say, what possible explanation could she fabricate.
"I've got to go…somewhere important. Bye!" she finished somewhat inanely before swooping up her bag and running down the corridor.
Ginny sprinted down the staircase, ignoring the strange looks and shouts of pupils who got in her way. Pushing past, she headed outside, not noticing that she was being followed.
Heedless of the risk of being seen out of bounds in broad daylight, Ginny raced over the grounds and with a quick, anxious look, entered the forbidden forest. Looking for answers.
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"Hmm…" a voice in the shadows mused. He stood under a large tree, its thick branches sheltering from daylight exposure. A curious expression played on his perfectly pale face, his tall form leaned casually on the tree trunk as he watched her go deeper and deeper into the forest. Brushing back his longish blond hair, Draco Malfoy drew his cloak around him and with a wolfish smile, followed the girl.