TITLE: Dark Lord's Little Helper, Chapter Ten
RATING: PG-13
PAIRING: Draco/Ginny
DISCLAIMER: Belongs to J.K. Rowling, etc.
BETAS: Gemsbok, ShadowPhoenix
SUMMARY: Ginny and Draco race to save Harry…even though Harry's already dead. There's only one person they can turn to with something like this. Unfortunately, that same person hates Harry with a venom. Also, Ginny proves that Draco's not the only one with a few clever tricks.
THANKS: Pamie884, Neo-QueenSerenity, and bigreader: Well, as much as I'm sure we'd all like to change the series to Draco Malfoy and the...
DEDICATIONS: To Nori, as always.

The Scariest Potions Master on Earth

Ginny was chaffing Harry's wrist and looking up at the Slytherin. "You're the one who's good at potions; what do we do?"

"If this is the poison I think it is, there's nothing we can do," he told her darkly. "We're too late."

"I can't accept that," she said determinedly. "I won't accept that! We'll save him. We'll take him to Snape. If he doesn't know a cure, no one will." She grabbed hold of Harry's arms and propped him into a sitting position. "Here; help me get him up. Get his legs."

Draco did so, but protested frantically. "Ginny, no! We can't take him to Snape; not if we want him to live! Snape—ah, Snape hates him."

Ginny gave him a dirty look, struggling with Harry's dead weight. "Not so much that he'd let Harry die," she insisted.

"Yes, he really does! Ginny!" Draco took a deep breath. He didn't want to get Snape in trouble. He'd liked Snape. And even if he didn't, he sure as hell feared Snape. Still, dragging Potter to the man now would not only bring the lamb to slaughter, but bring Draco and Ginny as well. "Ginny, he's a Death Eater. I know; my father told me. He's gone to the meetings and everything."

To Draco's consternation, Ginny's face lit up with a bright smile. "Draco! You finally told me the truth! I'd wondered whether or not you ever would. You really do care about me. You see, I'd thought—"

"Yes, yes, declarations of undying love and you walk in beauty like the night and all that. The point is; we can't bring Potter there; Snape will simply finish him off! Not that he's not finished already," he admitted, lugging Potter's frighteningly cold and still legs along the hallway.

"And you care about Harry, too! I always knew the two of you didn't hate each other completely," she gushed. "Er, and no Byron, please. I really don't like Byron. Everybody and their brother quotes Byron. At least try to be original, would you?"

"Gah!" was as much of a panicked response as he could muster. "We're going to die, you do realize that?"

"Snape isn't a Death Eater. He's a spy!" she proclaimed reassuringly. "And don't worry; he'll know what to do."

"Are you sure?" Draco persisted. "Because a very good Death Eater would say that, and then where would we be?"

"Oh, shut up and help me get him to Snape."

OoOoO

It took a lot before they could even convince the man to let them in his chambers. When they first knocked, he poked his head out the door and stared at them suspiciously. "Yes? What do you want?"

"Erm. Sorry, sir, but Potter here is dead," Draco offered, gesturing to the corpse.

"Really? Well done, Draco. Didn't think you had it in you."

"Sir!" Ginny gasped in such a scandalized voice that the man rolled his eyes.

"Shut up, Weasley. What happened, Draco?" He gave Draco one of his patented looking-inside-your-brain-and-going-through-dirty-laundry looks.

"Um. Erm. We think he's been poisoned. Sir."

"Ah. By whom? With what?"

"Not sure, sir. But that dream he had this summer; about a black snake, and his mother Lily's family on Privet Drive? I was thinking that black snake root is part of the lily family, and privet is also toxic, and—"

"And what, Draco?" Severus Snape asked, eyes flashing.

"And those along with Monkshood make one of the deadliest potions known to the wizarding world; the Incurable Cocktail."

Snape stared at them for a long moment. "Bring him in," he said finally, standing back and allowing them to pull the body inside. "Reaction time of said potion, Mister Malfoy?" Snape asked calmly, as though he were merely quizzing them in class.

Draco swallowed, staring down at Harry, whose cheeks were pale as marble. "Ten minutes," he croaked. "It's fatal. There is no cure. There's nothing we can do. He's dead."

"Stop saying that!" Ginny snarled. "Tell him, Professor! Tell him he's wrong," she begged. "There's got to be something we can do for him!"

Snape gave her an enigmatic look. "There is nothing I can do." He held up a hand to forestall her objection. "Fortunately, measures were taken at the start of the school year in anticipation of Potter's aggravating impulsiveness and miraculous ability to get himself into trouble. Less fortunately, however, is the fact that Professor McGonagall is truly ill, and must not be disturbed. And yet she is the only one in possession of a Time Turner at this moment."

"A Time Turner?" Draco repeated.

"Yes. They are…difficult objects that cause…complicated situations. You must retrieve it, go back to before Potter was poisoned, and save him."

"Why can't you do it, sir?" Ginny asked, confused.

For a moment, Snape's expression became a mixture of fury and frustration. "The Ministry has cast wards on it. They would know the moment I laid hands on the thing. The Headmaster is gone—conveniently, to be sure—and McGonagall is unwell. You are what I have to work with, so work with you I shall. At least a Slytherin is involved. With a plan of this cunning, only a Slytherin could pull it off."

"But…" Draco trailed off, staring at the body left so casually slumped on the Potions Master's living room rug. "But we couldn't have saved him, could we? Or else we'd know we did. And he's dead. No pulse, no breathing, nothing. He's obviously dead; so we've already failed."

Snape gave a rather disgusted sigh. "I thought you were my best student," he said with a sneer. Stalking across the room, he slid through a door and came back a moment later with a black vial. "I trust you know what this is, Draco?"

"The Draught of Living Death," he said reverentially, staring. As far as Slytherin inventions went, it was very nearly the Holy Grail. It was extremely difficult and costly to make, not to mention time consuming, and required a master of Potions. No Longbottom could ever manage such a brew, and few wizards ever got to lay eyes on it. "I give it to Potter?"

Snape managed a twisted smile at that. "Among other things." He handed the vial to Draco and pulled another from his robe. This one was an eerie, glowing red. "Describe the symptoms Potter exhibited before he stopped breathing, Draco," he commanded.

Draco's puzzled eyes followed the diminutive bottle. "Ah…just what you'd expect to see, sir. We only caught the end, where he was staggering, holding his arm out in front of him like he couldn't see where he was going, and then he collapsed. Oh, and when Ginny took his wrist, he complained of being cold. Then he…" Draco swallowed. "Then, he died," he finished soberly.

Snape gave him a derisive snort. "Perhaps. I, for one, very much doubt it. Think carefully: are there any other poisons that produce these symptoms?"

Draco shrugged. "Sure. Ergot gives cold extremities, but takes several days before it takes effect. Black locust doesn't take as long. And then there's—"

"Yes, yes," Snape interrupted impatiently. He thrust the small bottle at the young man. "Black locust for the chill, foxglove for blurred vision, yellow jasmine for ataxia…am I forgetting anything? Oh, and there's privet for the collapse. It shan't be fatal without the other ingredients."

Draco stared at him. "You mean…" he said slowly, thinking it over.

"I mean that these poisons are curable, whereas the Incurable Cocktail—obviously—isn't. You'll give these to him, then let yourselves find him and bring him to me. The nature of time travel is very…exacting; because you found him this way, you must find him this way. Am I making myself clear?"

Ginny shook her head. "I'm not sure. I think I understand, but—"

"Wait a second," Draco broke in. "You mean I get to play the hero and STILL POISON POTTER? But that's fantastic!"

Ginny gave him an annoyed look. "You mean that we can't alter the events—or at least the appearance of the events—that took place this evening. At least; the old version of us has got to perceive things happening the way they did."

"Yes," Snape replied shortly. "Now clear out and get that damned Time Turner and get to work. I have to once again save Potter's life. Dear God, he's an awful lot of trouble!" The man pulled Harry up onto the sofa.

Ginny found herself tearing up to know that her friend wasn't going to die. "Oh, let's go, Draco," she said throatily. "We have to get started. We have to save Harry."

"And poison him!" he added cheerfully, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

Ginny rolled her eyes as she pulled him out of the room. "Yes, that too."

OoOoO

Draco hauled Ginny out to the greenhouses, ignoring her protests. "What are you doing?" she asked for about the fifteenth time, as he worked feverishly at picking the lock on greenhouse one. "There isn't even anything dangerous in here! Why bother?"

Draco gave a disgruntled grunt. "Did you think I was going to poison McGonagall, too? No, we'll need something far more insidious for that old bird—or Pomfrey, who's most likely guarding her. We'll need to be cunning. Charming. Slytherin." The door popped open and he stepped inside, walking quickly down the aisles and examining plants. "Too ugly. Too large. Too hairy—ah, here's one!" Whipping out his wand, he severed one flower from its root, then went along a little ways until he found another he liked, and another, until he was holding a serviceable bouquet.

Ginny stared. "You're giving her flowers? That's never going to work!"

"It doesn't have to. All it has to do is get us in the door," he said loftily. "From there, it's your problem."

"How is it my problem?"

"You'll have to distract her while I make the search," he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh, I see," she said morosely, following back to the castle.

"Cheer up," he told her. "I'm sure you'll think of something. You're very resourceful and intelligent. That's what I like about you."

Ginny gave him a withering look. "Good grief, you're a walking cliché. Next you'll be telling me, 'I like a girl with spirit!' and nonsense like that."

He shrugged. "I'm just practicing my buttering up. Don't worry; I'm a world-class suck-up. Everyone knows it."

"What a thing to brag about."

OoOoO

Madam Pomfrey gazed at them suspiciously. "You've already been warned that Professor McGonagall was not to be disturbed."

"We don't mean any harm," Draco assured her, against all evidence. "We just want you to give her these…um. Tulips."

"Those aren't tulips," she responded finally. "There's bloodsucking baby's breath in there, for one thing."

"Is there?" Draco responded, looking closely. "What the hell was it doing in greenhouse one?"

"Mister Malfoy! Have you been stealing from Professor Sprout's stores?"

Draco gave Ginny a look that said he was out of ideas, so she took over. "Please, Madam Pomfrey; we really wanted to talk to you."

Madam Pomfrey looked wary, but backed up and let them into Professor McGonagall's sitting room. It was a lot warmer and cosier than Snape's, but everything had a bit of a tartan pattern to it, and started to make one dizzy if they stared too long. "Is that right, Miss Weasley? And what is it you need from me?"

Draco took the first opportunity to slide around behind the nurse, who cannily shifted to keep an eye on him. He edged towards the doorway whenever her attention turned to his companion. Ginny had better make this good, he thought, or I'll never be have enough time to find and nab this thing.

Ginny took a deep breath, looking from the nurse to Draco. "Er…well…I wanted to talk to you about…um. Sex!" she said with sudden inspiration.

Draco froze, his head twisting to gape at her. Madam Pomfrey was doing the same. "You…you—what?" she said faintly.

"Erm. Sex," Ginny repeated timidly. Draco swallowed hard and resolved not to look at her, as he carefully turned the knob of the door to the next room. If that didn't take up the woman's full attention, nothing would. "You see, we've been seeing each other for a while now, and it's just a matter of time, really. So I wanted to know about contraceptives. I don't want to turn out like my mother; seven kids and no time or energy for any of them."

"Well. I. Well! Miss Weasley, I don't…that is; of course, it does happen, and children grow up, and…my goodness. Well. Contraceptives? Ah. Have the two of you…already?"

Ginny shook her head, her face flaming. "No, not yet. Erm. But it seems inevitable, and I don't want to be unprepared."

Draco couldn't help it. Even as he slid into the other room, his head swivelled round again, his eyes bugging out. It was inevitable? He surely hoped so, but had never thought to hear it voiced. Dear Merlin, she was far more sly than any Slytherin. She even had him distracted, and he had a job to do! Gritting his teeth, he carefully began opening drawers and peeking into cupboards.

He heard a noise like a sigh, and froze. There was a bed at one end of the room, and McGonagall was propped up against a bunch of pillows. For a moment, his heart leapt into his throat, but after thirty seconds or so passed without anything happening, he began breathing again. Looking closely, he saw that her eyes were closed. The Deputy Headmistress was asleep.

And there, on her steadily rising and falling chest, was a glitter of gold. The Time Turner. Fuck. She probably doesn't even take it off to shower, he thought, then winced and shuddered. How could he possibly get it off? He couldn't break the chain; it was necessary to work the spell. He crept up close to her, holding his breath. There was a clasp, actually, right near her neck. He wondered if he could undo it without waking her.

Leaning down, he deftly undid the clasp with clever fingers, and began sliding the chain out from under her neck. "Almost there…almost there…" he was whispering nearly under his breath. Suddenly, Professor McGonagall stirred and turned her head so that it rested on his hand—the one that had been next to her head as he pulled out the chain. "Mmm…Albus," she murmured with a bit of a happy smile on her usually sour old face.

"Albus?" Draco mouthed silently. "Disgusting!" After frozen this way for a few moments, he realized he'd half to move his hand in order to get free. He didn't want to risk waking the professor up, but he didn't know what else to do. "Er…Minerva, dear?" he whispered. "I've got to…use the loo." Frowning, she turned her head just a little, and he slipped his hand out, snatched up the trinket and sprinted for the door.

Breathing heavily, he tiptoed out, closing the door silently behind him. "And I expect you to be mature and responsible about this, and not abuse these spells, Mister Malfoy!" Madam Pomfrey was finishing, and turned to give him a firm look.

Draco blinked. "Ah. Absolutely. Er. Wouldn't dream of abusing…anything," he said, rather horrified. Ginny had spent the last ten minutes talking about sex with Madam Pomfrey? He was going to have to buy her something. Flowers. Chocolate. No, for a horror like that, only expensive jewellery would do. He gave her a weak smile and a thumbs up when Madam Pomfrey turned her head.

"Was there anything else you needed?" she queried, still looking rather unsettled.

"Er…no, I don't think so. It's been…educational, Poppy, but I think we ought to be on our way now," he said, sidling over to Ginny and putting an arm round her shoulders, steering her out of the room.

"Mister Malfoy! Have some respect. I am part of the Hogwarts' staff and ought to be treated with some small consideration. It really does annoy me that you feel you've the right to march in here and demand knowledge of—"

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey, so sorry, Madam Pomfrey," Draco responded, now just about dragging his girlfriend from the room. He nearly slammed the door shut behind them. "Now, let's get moving! What do we do?"

"Hermione told me how to work it; you just put the chain around whomever you want to go back in time, and then you turn the hourglass one time for each hour you want to go."

"Good, great, wonderful!" Draco exclaimed, throwing the chain around her.

"Wait, Draco!" Ginny protested. "We can't just do it here. Hermione explained that you'll end up back in time wherever you're standing, and you have to be careful that no one sees you. You have to be careful that you don't see you."

"Fine! We'll…go behind a potted plant or something," he offered. "How far back are we going?"

Ginny reluctantly allowed him to pull her behind a suit of armour. "Snape didn't say. Look, don't you suppose we should think this through, first? Come up with a plan of action?"

"Hell, no! This is easy; this is kids' stuff, particularly to a Slytherin like myself. Besides, I really, really, really want to get back and poison Potter." He tossed the slender golden chain around her. "Two hours? Three? We'll do three, just to be certain. It takes at least two for most of the ingredients in the poison to start showing symptoms."

He began flipping the hourglass over just as Ginny opened her mouth to object.

The hall was still silent.

"Everyone's headed down to the feast," Ginny said with sudden realization.

"Yes, I know, and isn't it perfect?" Draco pulled her down the hallway, when Madam Pomfrey came up the stairs in front of them.

"What are the two of you doing up here?" she asked, her expression leery. "Professor McGonagall is ill, and isn't to be disturbed. I don't want any students making noise in this hallway while I'm trying to care for her."

"We're so sorry," Draco responded immediately. "We didn't realize. Um. Ginny had an important question, but since you're busy we'll just…er…come back later. Thanks, and goodbye!" Taking Ginny's hand, they hurried down the stairs. "This is…weird," he commented.

"Draco, stop!" Ginny commanded in a whisper as they reached the ground floor.

"What?"

"Look! We're about to go into the Great Hall. We can't be seen so close to us! People will know something is up!" She hurried around a corner, Draco moving swiftly and silently beside her. They waited there for several moments, hearts pounding. "It's stranger seeing myself than I thought it would be," she confessed.

"Yes, it is," Draco said vehemently. "And do I always look that short? These long robes aren't as flattering as I previously thought. I'll go to Madam Malkin's at the first opportunity. Father probably hasn't thought to cut off my tab there yet."

"Draco! Stop being so vain and try to concentrate! Idiot," she added fondly.

He subsided with some disgruntled muttering about no one telling him he was short. "I'm not, really, I'm quite sure of it. I've never felt short. I'm at least as tall as Potter. God, that's not saying much, is it? Skele-Gro. I need some Skele-Gro or something."

"Draco, dear," Ginny said sweetly, "Any girl will tell you that size doesn't matter." His eyes widened as she turned to poke her head around the wall. "Do you remember what time we left the feast?"

"Er. What? You have such a dirty mind. I'm rubbing off on you. It's wonderful. No, no idea about what time we left. It was early on, though. I didn't even finish my soup, and you came up not long after me. We'll just have to watch and wait." He leaned against the wall.

"We probably have a good twenty minutes," Ginny observed.

"Something like that. Want to get a bit of time in while we're waiting? Neck a bit or something?"

Ginny didn't reply, but stomped on his foot.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed, jumping back and bringing said foot up to rub his toes. "Jeez, it was just a suggestion."

"You'd better learn when it is and when it's not appropriate to say things like that," she told him severely. "Because the next time, I kick you in the shin. After that, I make my best attempt to break your kneecap. And then I—"

"I think I've got the idea, thank you," he told her haughtily. "And you were the one going about telling people it was inevitable that we sleep together. Can you blame a bloke for getting his hopes up?"

Ginny glared. "That was just a diversion, and you know it," she huffed.

Draco shifted awkwardly. "Ah. Yes, I did rather think so. I just…you know…wanted to be certain. Um. So you would never consider being intimate with me? I'm only trying to, er, make sure we communicate effectively."

Ginny rolled her eyes, but was silent a long time, checking for the other Draco leaving the Hall. "Well…maybe. Someday," she admitted grudgingly.

The present Draco brightened considerably at this. "Really?"

"Don't go getting all hot and bothered over it. I mean…yeah, I can see us doing that. When I said it was inevitable…I guess I kind of meant it. Eventually. But only in the long-term sense. Like after we graduate." She risked a look at his face.

He seemed to be mulling this over. "I'll accept that," he said grandly. "But I'm still going to try to talk you into it before that. I can't be the godlike playboy I was destined to become if I don't at least try to talk one girl into it. Occasionally."

"You are not going to be a playboy. Not on my time," she informed him. "And if you do pressure me about it, I'm going to continue to do things like stomp on your feet."

"Well, obviously," he responded. "I'll run the risk. So long as there's a chance it'll happen someday. I think it'll be worth it." He gave her his most charming smile, and she shook her head, peeking out to see the past Draco finally leave.

"You've gone," she noted. "Now we just have to wait for me."

"I'll be patient," he assured her, earning himself a scathing look.

"Anyhow," she muttered, when he no longer seemed to be listening, as he leaned slightly around the corner, watching the doors to the Great Hall. "It would be rather a waste to have learned all those Contraceptive Charms if I never once used them."

"Romantic as always," he said dryly, causing her to blush. "And there you go, so here we go. Ready, my adamant angel? My stubborn siren?"

"Stop it already," she ordered, wiping her palms on her robes. "How are we going to do this?"

Draco frowned thinking it over. "Well," he said slowly, "Much as I hate to do it this way—and I really do—I don't think Potter would trust me to get close enough to poison him, so I think you'll have to be the one to do it."

Ginny gulped, suddenly panicked. Poison her friend? The boy she'd had a raging crush on since she was nine years old? She couldn't do it. She could never do it. What a crazy idea! But even as she was shaking her head, Draco took hold of her hand and squeezed it lightly.

"It'll be all right," he assured her. "He's a bit of a dolt now, but I'm sure he'll understand someday. It's the only way. And I'm fairly certain it won't be too difficult. Come on. I'll go in with you, even if I can't really do much to help." He put an arm around her shoulders and led her to the doors. "You'll be fine. I promise."