Title inspired by Jason Mraz's Unfold, as I am in the middle of a HECTIC crowd and I'm looking for a bit of peace…-growls-

So, starting exactly where we left off (sorry for not updating sooner, BTW) –

Ginny touched the door quickly and pulled her hand away, afraid that the door would be tricked. When nothing happened, she pushed the it aside and stepped in to the hallway.

It was dark and dusty; the paintings were still and lifeless. They reminded Ginny of a Muggle house she had been in once, though she doubted these were Muggle paintings. She paused for a moment, wondering where she should look. She didn't think of escaping, as she had no wand and no idea where she was, but she wanted to know anything she could on Malfoy while she had a chance.

Yes, she exulted as she found the library. Pulling a random book off an ebony bookshelf, she opened it to the middle, a small puff of dust exiting from its aged spine; Malfoy evidently was not very interested in his family's complete genealogy dating back to two AD.

"'Ello, who're you?"

Ginny gasped and whirled around, almost dropping the heavy silver-backed manual from her hands.

"Please don't scream. Sensitive ears, you know."

Oh, thought Ginny, still searching for the disembodied voice. 'Disembodied' actually turned out to be an adequate adjective, as a small dragon that still glowed faintly red crept up the side of a chair, its ghostly form shimmering in the dim light. Ginny sat down on the edge of another chair, shaken. "Who're…?"

"Hawthorne," the little dragon chirped cheerfully, attempting to sharpen its translucent claws on the black leather. "How come you can talk?" Ginny asked, quickly deciding the dragon – Hawthorne – was friendly. "And how did you get to be a ghost?" "Spells, little witch, spells and potions," he grinned, running a snakelike tongue over pearlescent canines. "An illustrious Malfoy ancestor made me his pet, and decided he couldn't continue without me if I died, so he made me into a ghost to stick around for him. Never thought to do it to himself, though," Hawthorne sniffed disdainfully, examining his claws. "Who're you?"

"Ginny Weasley," Ginny answered.

"And what are you doing here?" Hawthorne glided to her lap, creating a small cool spot on her thigh. "Prisoner," she sighed, guilt burning inside her. "Malfoy caught me."

"Dear Draco?"

Ginny nodded. "Did he now? He's getting better," Hawthorne remarked, "he's been trying to get someone for absolutely ages." "What do you mean?" Ginny asked. "The Order of the Phoenix, silly witchie, the Order," the dragon huffed, "I assume you are from the Order?" Ginny nodded numbly. "He needed to make sure his information was sound before betraying the Dark Lord, didn't he?"

"Betraying You-Know-?"

Ginny stopped with a gasp as Malfoy appeared in the doorway. Everyone seemed to have frozen, even Hawthorne.

"I brought back a message from your brother." Malfoy spoke with shards of ice in his voice, his face as calm as a frosted window. "I left it in your room. You'd best read it there." He moved to one side of the doorway. Ginny stood and walked quickly back to her prison, Malfoy following silently behind her. He closed the door and sealed it.

Betraying You-Know-Who? Thought Ginny incredulously as she unfolded Ron's letter, Malfoy? Impossible…

---

"WHAT DID YOU TELL HER?"

Hawthorne looked up at Draco Malfoy, his face paler than it usually was with anger.

"Define 'her.'"

"GINNY WEASLEY."

"No need to shout, young human. Nice girl, she was. Good job, catching her like that. Quite a catch, if you know what I mean." Hawthorne laughed, rolling around on the same black chair Ginny had vacated.

"I OUGHT TO TAKE YOU AND-" Malfoy spluttered to a halt, anger clogging his throat as he glared at the small ghostly dragon.

"But you can't – I'm a ghost." Hawthorne grinned. "Not much you can do to me, I'm afraid. But what I suggest to you is you go up to that girl and tell her what you're trying to do. She may not believe you, she may not care, but a willing informant will give you far more information than a dose of Veritaserum will. And that's from experience, laddy."

"You've never drugged anyone in your life."

"No, but your great-great-great- great-great-great-great-great-"

"Shut up. I get the point." Malfoy slumped in a chair, throwing his cloak on the table.

"Smart boy. I knew you would. When are you going to talk to her, then?"

Malfoy set his jaw. "Tonight."

-hah- I thought I was going to make this such a long chappie. Ah, well, short and sweet is best when you're slacking off work, isn't it? And besides, there wasn't much more I could do right now. In the story, that is. I get fanfiction ideas in spurts. It's funny. Ivan's coming along a lot more easily.

Ivan: -HAH-, suckers!

Morough: right, you should be celebrating. The last 'spurt' I got on Ivan you got your ass kicked.

Ivan: well…

Morough: good thing Ilya was there, huh?

Ivan: -grumbles undiscernibly under breath-

Morough: I thought so :-)

-morough-