Chapter 40- Backlash
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The last thing he remembered was a fist flying toward his face. From the ache in his jaw, Weasel had a decent right hook.
Draco tried to evaluate whether his jaw was bruised or broken, but his hand wouldn't move. He heard a rattling sound, opening his eyes with effort. It was hard to believe that this chamber had once been softened with tapestries, rugs, and candlelight. Now, the Room of Requirement had changed to serve a different purpose.
It was a dungeon.
In the torchlight, his gaze scanned the dank stone walls, looked up to see the small, barred window…and the thick iron chains from which he hung suspended. His feet barely touched the floor, putting strain on his upper body. Good thing he worked out. If he had Creevey arms, the pain would be unbearable.
Draco smirked when he realised that he was fully dressed. The prats wouldn't be whipping him literally, then. Probably didn't want to get a bigger inferiority complex viewing his god-like physique. Hah.
"Look at him, Harry. Even chained like a dog, Malfoy's so bloody arrogant."
His captors had returned. "At least I'm a pure-bred dog, Weasel, instead of a mongrel like your mangy friend."
The sputtering redhead punched him in the stomach. If he didn't have abs of steel, he might've whimpered. Draco inhaled sharply. He probably deserved the blow. The satisfied expression on the freckled face rubbed him the wrong way, however, so instead of trying to be conciliatory, he drawled, "I'll be sure to have your sister kiss that better later."
The psychotic gleam in Weasley's eyes made Draco regret his words even before another punch rocked his head back. He looked ruefully at the pacing, cursing Gryffindor. He had definitely deserved that.
"Ron, stop reacting to his taunts. That's what he wants. Malfoy's obviously trying to distract you from finding out just what he's been up to with Ginny."
Actually, he had been reacting to being chained, cursed, and beaten. If Wonder Boy wanted to think he was acting out some cunning plot, though, Draco was content to let him keep that wrong impression. It was easier on his ego.
"What have you done to my sister, you bastard?" Weasley demanded, punching him again.
"Nothing she didn't want me to do. Oomph!" Even abs of steel bent under extreme force. Merlin, he was going to have to stop baiting the lunatic. The emotional pleasure wasn't worth the physical pain. Closing his good eye and counting to ten, in English, Latin, and Norse, Draco said levelly, "I've never taken advantage of your sister's feelings for me."
Frustrated by Ron's continuous rant of accusations and disbelief, he gritted, "I…damn it, you gormless, psychotic git of a manky weasel, I love Ginny and she loves me and there's nothing you can do about it!"
Once, he and Blaise went to Mexico over Easter Holiday. They had been amused by the sight of children beating a colourful tissue-paper covered figure of a donkey hanging from a tree with a stick. The paper mache had eventually broken open, allowing candy to rain down.
Now Draco knew how a Piñata felt.
"Ron, stop it, he's had enough. Stupefy!"
Harry-Bloody-Potter stepped around his immobilised friend. He raised his wand and silently began a series of healing spells. How ironic, the boy who hated Draco more than anyone besides The Dark Lord and Snape was relieving his enemy's pain. It was tempting to believe Potter did it only to keep Weasley out of trouble, but his face looked unhappily determined to do the right thing. Damn. To show his grudging thanks, the Slytherin refrained from goading or sneering.
"Enervate!"
Weasley looked at Draco, blinking in confusion. "Didn't I just beat the shite out of you?"
"Yes, you did, so here's a little something to return the favour." While he spoke, Draco reached up and used his grip on the chains to pull, lift, and kick in a smooth motion that propelled Weasley across the chamber to fall flat on his back.
The boy sat up and rubbed his head. "This isn't working out the way I planned." His face was a study in frustration. "Malfoy's such a bloody snake. We can't trust anything he says."
"Yes we can. I brought a Sneakoscope, and it hasn't whistled once." Potter brought a small object out of his pocket. It looked like a glass top, and glowed, spun, and whistled shrilly whenever someone dishonest was nearby. Draco had several. People in Slytherin House did have trouble telling truths when lies would better serve. It was just their nature. Like beating first and asking questions later was apparently a Gryffindor trait.
Weasley looked like he'd just found out there was no Father Christmas. A discomforting sensation almost like pity made Draco say, "I'm not lying. Ginny and I have been seeing each other all year. I didn't want to sneak around, but your sister wanted time to get the family to accept it." A bitter smile crossed his face. "I knew Lovegood would see a Snorkack before that happened."
Wide mouth turning down, Weasley pointed to the Sneakoscope in his friend's hand. "Maybe it's broken?"
"Yeah, maybe it is," said Potter.
Immediately, the device began to whirl, glow, and emit a shriek.
Weasley groaned. "Stars and stones, Harry. What are we going to do now?" He said wildly, "Let's Obliviate his memory, make him forget Ginny."
"Be like Lockhart, Ron? Have you forgotten the brain damage those spells can cause?" Potter lifted his wand and released the prisoner from the manacles.
Draco fell to the ground, rubbing his wrists.
Potter shook his head. "We've got to stay out of this, mate. Let Ginny tell your folks. Maybe it won't be so bad."
"Gee, thanks," said Draco.
"Shut up, Ferret! Nobody's talking to you!"
"Calling yourself a nobody, Weasel? Finally, we agree on something." After Draco said the words, he wanted to hit himself. Habits were so hard to break. Insulting these two was as natural as breathing. He rose to his feet, making a supreme effort to keep his tone civil. "Look. I don't like you, or your friends, Weasley, but for Ginny, I'll stay out of your way. I'd—appreciate it—if you'd let me go and then stay out of mine."
Weasley looked at Potter, who shrugged. The Sneakoscope wasn't going off, so they knew he wasn't lying. Finally, Potter nodded and opened the door.
"Harry, I…I don't know if I can stay out of it." Weasley's face looked tormented. "This is my baby sister Malfoy's been putting his hands on. I'm supposed to just let her make a choice that could ruin her life without doing anything to try and stop it?"
Draco averted his eyes. He didn't want to understand Weasley's feelings, much less sympathise with them. If Mr. Freckles couldn't take his sister dating a Malfoy, then that was his lookout. No matter how many people hated the idea of a Weasley and a Malfoy being together, Draco wasn't giving Ginny up. Since there was nothing he could say to change her brother's mind, he didn't say anything, merely walked out of the Room of Requirement and made his way to Slytherin House.
In the common room, he brushed past Crabbe and Goyle, Parkinson, the Greengrass twins and several others who tried to get him to stop and chat to go directly to his room. He sat on the bed with his Melusine Mirror, calling Ginny's name. When her face appeared, he said dryly, in one of the understatements of his life, "I had a little talk with Potter and Weasley. Your brother's not going to come round."
He could see his girlfriend open her mouth to ask what exactly the 'talk' had consisted of before she bit her lip. After a tense moment, she said, "I haven't written Mum and Dad yet, and now I wonder if Ron's going to save me the trouble."
"If he does, what will you say to them?"
Her smile was bittersweet. "The same thing I told Ron. I love you."
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The Owlery was one of Luna's favourite places. Owls were such fascinating creatures. Watching them takeoff and land was one of her favourite things to do…today.
She'd been waiting for her father to send information on James Hook. This morning, Daddy's tawny owl had swooped down from the rafters to land on the table in front of her. Her heart had jolted when she discovered that the message case was empty. She and Wesley had looked at each other with the same thought. Owls didn't just drop in to say hello. Someone had taken her letter!
Wesley had Transfiguration first class and couldn't be late. She was more fortunate. She had History of Magic, and Binns, with his eternal perspective, was much more lenient when it came to tardiness. After breakfast, Luna gave Wesley a quick kiss goodbye and ran toward the tower.
"What are you doing out of class, missy?"
Argus Filch's rasping voice was precisely the one Luna wanted to hear. She turned and smiled serenely. "I wanted to talk to you, Mr. Filch. No one at Hogwarts is more knowledgeable about what goes on than you are."
The unpleasant man showed a glimpse of teeth that made the girl want to stuff every brushing/flossing mint she could get hold of into his mouth. Homeless Muggles had better hygiene! Since gently reminding 'three mints a day keeps halitosis away' would not be prudent at this time, she gazed at the Squib's stubbly chin as she asked, "Have you seen anyone else enter the Owlery this morning?"
"Not personally, but Mrs. Norris said she saw that new professor nosing round earlier."
Other people might automatically discount testimony given by a cat, but the Luna knew Mrs. Norris was no ordinary feline. The animal had an almost eerily strong bond with Filch. Several times in the past, she had heard the man respond to the grey tabby and he really did seem to understand her. If Harry could talk to snakes, why couldn't Filch talk to his cat? Although Squibs weren't supposed to have magical abilities, weren't there always exceptions to the rules?
She clarified, "Hook?"
"That's the one, swaggering around the place waving his hook at defenceless kitties."
Lips twitching madly at the thought of Mrs. Norris being a 'defenceless kitty', Luna thanked the man politely.
He brusquely ordered her back to class.
During lunch, she whispered what Filch had told her.
Wesley said drolly, "Well, if Mrs. Norris said it, that's good enough for me, Buttercup."
She lightly smacked him on the arm. "I know it wouldn't stand up with the Wizengamot, but we're not that picky."
He grinned. "After our last class, why don't we meet behind the statue of Rupert the Red? We can follow Hook and see for ourselves what he's up to. I'll bring omnioculars."
Unable to resist touching one of his adorable dimples, she said, "Good idea. I'll bring the extendable ears. Bindy said that Neville didn't need them, but I might."
"Didn't Snape confiscate those?"
She said, "Yes, but he gave them back today." A note of discovery entered her voice. "He said he hoped we would put them to proper use in the future."
Together, they gazed toward the staff table. Professor Snape seemed to be impassively listening to McGonagall, but every few moments he glanced down the table to where Professor Hook was trying his best to engage Professor Lorelei in conversation.
"Look at how he's holding that goblet. The bat's going to snap the stem if he squeezes it any tighter."
She nodded. "Snape doesn't seem to appreciate his new colleague's interest in Lorelei."
"Maybe we can find out why that is."
When her boyfriend turned to talk to Terry, Luna asked Mindy, "How's it going with Colin? Good?"
"Yes, matchmaker, it's good. It would be great if he'd just stop hanging out with Zabini. I want to slap that…witch…every time I see her." Mindy pushed away her plate. "His carryall was open last night in the library. I saw a certain magazine inside, and I don't think Colin's been reading the 'how to create a closer relationship' article."
"He might be."
Mindy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right."
Shortly after her friend left the Hall, Colin did too. That was a good sign.
She turned back to Wesley. He asked, "How's 'The Taming of the Shrew' going?"
Luna waved her hand in a so-so motion.
He laughed. "I don't suppose she'd appreciate it if I gave her a pithy quote from the play." He recited, "Asses are meant to bear, and so are you." When she giggled, he winked. "Didn't think so"
Wesley escorted her to Arithmancy and bowed with a piratical flourish after kissing her hand. Her smile stayed fixed throughout the rest of the day until she waited alone behind the statue of Rupert the Red. Captain Hook had just left the classroom. She looked down the corridor—still no Wesley. The professor turned a corner. Luna decided to follow on her own.
It was a lot harder to trail someone without being noticed than she had thought. Several times, to prevent detection, she had to duck into a classroom, behind a statue, or even hide behind another student.
When the piratical-looking professor strolled out the side entrance toward the lake, she took out her wand and quickly performed a Disillusionment Charm. Hook headed for the Dragon Claw Willow. By the time Luna caught up and began to move the claw-tipped fronds aside to see what the man was doing, she heard, "Waiting eagerly, were you? How flattering. In his journal, Stuart mentioned several times your fondness for this willow. A favourite trysting place, I assume?"
"Assumptions are dangerous things. I only met you here to say that my private life is none of your business. Stop questioning my colleagues about it."
Crouching forward, Luna parted the last layer of fronds and felt her eyes widen. The Runes professor was standing next to Lorelei, his hook lifting long, black spirals while he mused, "Beauty is a dangerous thing in the hands of a siren that lures men to their doom." In a quick move, the curving steel wrapped around the woman's hair and pulled her face close to his. "I'll question whoever I please, and you'll be beguiling guards in Azkaban if I prove that you lured Stuart to his death."
"Release Me."
He set Lorelei free at once.
She backed away. "I had nothing to do with Stuart's death. He made his own decision. If you feel guilty for not being there for him, deal with it, but don't try and put the blame on someone else."
Hook remained staring after Lorelei returned to the castle. He lifted the curve of steel to smooth his moustache. "Well, do you believe her, little eavesdropper?"
Luna became visible. "How did you know I was there?"
"The willow fronds parted and stayed that way…as if by magic."
"Oh."
"Yes, oh." A dark brow lifted. "I don't have all day. Answer the question, m'dear."
"I do believe her."
"Alas, so do I."
Before she could gather the nerve to ask what he had done with her post, Wesley burst into the clearing under the willow.
He slid his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. "Sorry, I'm late." He told Hook, "Hello, sir, sorry to intrude. We'll be on our way."
"Yes, leave me to my thoughts."
When they had gone a safe distance, Wesley and Luna broke into a run. Back in Ravenclaw House, the couple sat together on a sofa.
"McGonagall made us stay after the period was over since people had talked and wasted her time during class"
Luna twined her fingers with his and shared what had happened to her.
Wesley said, "It's Hogsmeade weekend next Saturday. We could head for the Owl Post Office first thing."
"I'll have Daddy send the information care of Bindy."
"That will ensure it arrives. Clever thinking!"
Luna smiled. They sat together, gazing at the fire that burned year round. Shapes formed in the flames, making her giggle.
"What do you see, Buttercup?"
"Us, kissing."
Immediately, Wesley stood and pulled her up. Luna found herself led into his room and over to his bed. She smiled at Terry when he looked up from his desk.
He grinned. "Finally asking your opinion of his new bedding, is he? Hello, Luna. Don't mind me. I'll just spin one of my favourite orbs, like so, and sit here reading Horrible Hexes for Randy Roommates."
Sitting on her boyfriend's bed, enclosed by curtains that darkened the interior and cast intriguing shadows across the handsome face leaning closer, Luna thanked Merlin for imagination as Wesley's lips parted hers.
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Invisibility Cloaks were one of the most brilliant inventions of wizard-kind. Using them, Blaise and Terry were able to sneak out of their Houses and meet in every out-of-the-way place they could think of. The attics, unused classrooms, the Room of Requirement, even the space beneath the Quidditch stands were used as meeting places.
On the way back from spending time with Terry in a large linen cupboard on the fifth floor after their last class, she patted the messenger bag containing the Cloak affectionately.
"Psst…Zabini…over here!"
A freckled hand was gesturing urgently. Blaise strolled behind the statue of Bertha the Behemoth. "Why the secrecy, Mr. Freckles? Surely Granger knows that I like you, but don't like you by now?" The redhead wasn't returning her smile, just staring in a way that made the girl nervous. Her eyes searched his. "What is it?"
"I know about Malfoy and my sister."
She had felt hexes that packed less of a punch. Draco hadn't told her. "Since…since when?"
"Yesterday."
Her best mate had gone up to his dorm yesterday afternoon without more than a nod and wave. Crabbe and Goyle had informed her that Draco was eating in his room on the way to dinner. When she ran up to check on him after the meal, he had been sitting up in bed, reading Basic Hexes for the Busy and Vexed.
Draco had accepted the chocolate chip cookies she brought with a smile. While she conjured a glass of milk, he told her he chose to have dinner in his room to avoid looking across the table at Potty and Weasel. Now his explanation made even more sense. Abruptly realising that she hadn't heard what Ron had just said, Blaise smiled apologetically. "Say again?"
"I said, how long have you known?"
"Why do you care?"
His hand wrapped around her arm and tightened implacably when she tried to pull away. "Over Christmas holiday, did you and Ginny really go see The Nutcracker, or did you just set it up for her to meet Malfoy?"
A blush spread across her cheekbones.
Freckles stood out against skin white with fury. "Harry and I knew you were up to something, but I thought…" He shook her. "You came into my room to distract me!" Anger made his eyes blaze. "Did you laugh at me for asking what was in it for you? Huh? Did you?"
"Of course not! It wasn't like that!" She wrenched her arm away.
His fingers imprisoned her wrist. They squeezed as he whispered, "I wish I'd never touched you. That I actually kissed you makes me sick."
Tears sprang to her eyes. Blinking them back, she wrenched out of his grip and cried out in pain. Her wrist hurt, but not as much as the spiteful words. Ron looked shocked at the sight of the livid marks his fingers had made. His hand reached out to touch the imprints. She backed away, cradling her arm against her chest before running toward the hospital wing.
Madam Pomfrey made a disapproving sound as she smoothed lotion over Blaise's skin. "Physical assaults are not tolerated at Hogwarts, Miss Zabini. If you wish to report your—the person—responsible, they will be punished."
"It wasn't my boyfriend, ma'am."
Clucking again like a disapproving squirrel, the mediwitch told her brusquely to lie on the cot until the marks faded and left.
A boy entered. "I'm sorry," Ron said gruffly, sitting on the edge of her mattress. "I've gone mental, ever since I found out about…you know... Doing things I would beat the shite out of anyone else for doing, saying…."
The freckled face scrunched in utter misery. She couldn't help feeling sorry for him. He looked desolate. "I had no right to hurt you, and that stuff I said was a lie. All I could think of was all the times Ginny's gone to the library, or run off with you, she was really with Malfoy. It drove me spare." His eyes met hers, as if trying to make her understand. "Mum and Dad are going to go round the twist when they find out, and thinking about Mum lying in bed, crying like she did when Percy left made me want to hurt somebody."
"Did it make you feel better, hurting somebody?"
"No, I feel worse. Will you…forgive me?"
He was sincere. She nodded.
"Ron, I saw you coming this way, what's…wrong…" Granger's concerned speech trailed off halfway down the hospital aisle, when she noticed whose bed her boyfriend was sitting on.
He stood to face her. "
"'Mione…I…"
The girl looked uncertainly at her boyfriend.
"Is there something I should know about?"
"Yeah"
Ron glanced at Blaise. She said,
"Go on…I'm okay…Bye…"
They walked out. Blaise looked down at her wrist. The dark purple bruises had faded away. Moving her arm without pain, she hopped off the cot and slowly walked back to Slytherin.
Inside the Common Room, she went across the chamber to sit beside Malfoy on a long sofa. He nodded to the tea tray in front of him,
"Want a cup?"
"Yes, please"
"Make one for me too while you're at it, will you?"
A laughingly disgusted voice protested,
"Merlin, you're a chauvinist pig!"
"I'll say. Make her a cuppa for a change, Prince of Slytherin!"
Fiona and Morrigan plopped down beside their roommate on the sofa. Hazel eyes sparkling, Fiona cheekily ordered,
"Be mother and pour for all of us, Draco."
Sneering at the auburn haired girl, the blond nevertheless complied and made the homey ritual a thing of elegance. Handing Blaise the first cup, he muttered,
"Just because I like you to pour doesn't mean I'm a chauvinist."
"Of course not…and I enjoy doing it…back at Tarifa, Rico called me 'mamacita'."
He smiled and then frowned,
"I bet Rico Suave put a 'sexy' in front of that. The smarmy Spaniard had a point, though." Grey eyes darted away and then back, "You've always been caring…and I appreciate it."
For the second time that afternoon, she had to blink back tears. These were happy ones.
"Hey Malfoy, if you're finished with the touching friendship moment, Morrigan and I are dying of thirst over here…"
Blaise smiled when Crabbe and Goyle lumbered over, heard Fiona's words, and helpfully tried to pour a large mug full of tea down the protesting girl's throat in order to save her. Beside her, Draco smirked, and clinked his cup against hers, drawling,
"Cheers"
-
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Footsteps slowing as she neared the Entry on Friday evening, Ginny finally understood why Blaise had once avoided the Great Hall. It was hard to take having someone you loved be so upset with you. In the days since Ron had broken the concealment spell on her heart charm, they'd spoken only a few times. None of the occasions had been pleasant.
Monday night, she'd seen him sitting alone on a sofa staring into the fireplace. Sitting down beside him, the girl said whimsically, in an effort to make him smile,
How fares my brother? Why is he so sad?
Without looking at her, Ronald asked dully,
"What's that? Shakespeare? I suppose Malfoy knows every line of Romeo and Juliet."
"That was from As You Like It…and no he doesn't."
"Remind me to OWL the Prophet; give them the scoop, right after dad submits the obituary." Lips twisting, Ron said bitterly, "For mum, when it kills her to find out that her baby's dating a Death Eater."
"How many times do I have to tell you…Draco's not like that!"
Jumping to his feet, her brother shook his head before reaching into his pocket and tossing her the heart bracelet,
"Don't bother saying it again- I'll never believe it."
Watching Ronald take the steps to the Boys' staircase two at a time, she sighed unhappily.
"Everything okay, Gin?" Colin gestured over to a table with a book and parchment on its surface, "I was finishing up an assignment when I saw you go talk to Ron." His blue gaze silently asked a question that she answered by lifting the bracelet, kissing the heart, and showing him the engraving with a simple,
"He knows."
Practically falling onto the sofa cushion beside her, the blond shook his head in disbelief,
"And Malfoy is still breathing because…?"
She laughed without humor, "Because Ron's trying to give me time to tell the folks in a way that won't make them keel over in shock." Shaking her head at the look on his face, Ginny admitted, "I haven't been able to get past 'Dear Mum and Dad,'"
"Painful, huh?"
Now, remembering her friend's comment caused the redhead to smile wistfully as she paused before the Hall doors. It was painful to go from having a normal up and down brother/sister relationship to having one that was so strained it was like not having a relationship at all. If she walked into the Common Room, Ron left it. In the corridors, he would look past her, as if he didn't even see her. Harry and Hermione always smiled and waved half-heartedly, but Ginny could tell that they weren't happy about the situation either. The other girl asked, 'how are you doing' at meals, but their conversations were brief and falsely cheerful.
Sitting beside three people who showed their disapproval by talking to everyone else but her at Gryffindor Table caused the girl's stomach to knot until it was hard to eat. After dinner on Wednesday, Malfoy had met her in an unused classroom on the 5th floor. He'd taken one close look at her pale, drawn features and asked what she'd eaten. When she couldn't say, the teen marched over to the fireplace and commanded,
"Slinky!"
Appearing almost instantly, the house elf bowed deferentially,
"Yes, young master?"
"We're going up to the attics. I want a light supper delivered to the solar." Looking toward her, he asked, "What was the name of that salad you made on holiday?"
"Salad Parador"
"Right, named after the castle…we'll have that."
"Is that all, young sir?"
"A bottle of…" Grey eyes flickered to brown before continuing, "…cider."
Bowing until his bat-like ears almost brushed the floor, Slinky backed into the fireplace and returned to the kitchens.
"What are you smiling at?"
Draco's tone as they headed down the corridor toward the stairs was playfully challenging. She challenged just as teasingly, "Were you going to say champagne?"
Steering her up to the attics, a platinum brow arched,
"Did you want me to?"
Ginny shook her head no, and then nodded. Up in the attics, the Slytherin drawled,
"I think you've been hanging around Lovegood too much."
Holding hands, they made their way back to the re-created medieval solar. In the center of the chamber, a table and two chairs stood ready. Under warming covers on gold chargers, their food awaited. Taking the cider out of a nearby silver bucket, her boyfriend poured the sparkling beverage into a rare Venetian glass and handed one to her. After seating her, Malfoy sat across the table and ordered,
"Eat"
The romantic atmosphere helped Ginny regain her appetite. They talked quietly about things that had happened in class that day. In the candlelight, his face was compellingly handsome, and pensive,
"Do you think we could do this in Hogsmeade? Share a meal…in public… because we don't care who knows that we're together?"
That gave her ten days to think of how to break the news to her folks in a way that wouldn't get her confined to Gryffindor House like Terry Boot was to Ravenclaw. She could do it. Pink lips curved upwards,
"Are you asking me to go with you to Hogsmeade?"
His boyish smile made her heart turn over,
"Yes, I am. Will you spend the day with me?"
"I'd love to."
The memory of time spent with Draco gave Ginny the nerve to open the enormous Hall door. Slipping inside, her eyes were drawn to the Slytherin Table. Malfoy was watching her. He smiled. She made their secret hand sign before taking her seat.
"What's that thing you've been doing…some kind of sign language?"
Whatever star Ronald had been born under, it was her unlucky one. Wherever she wanted to see him least, he appeared, and recently, when she wanted him to remain unobservant, he decided to be Mr. I Spy. Pushing her fiery tresses back, she shrugged.
"That's not an answer."
Sick of her brother trying to be her keeper, Ginny snapped, "That's the only one you're getting."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah"
Hermione held up a restraining hand toward each of the siblings, "Honestly, you two are acting just like…"
"A bigger prat than Percy…"
"A little girl too stupid to figure out that she's being used."
"Somebody's been using Ginny?"
Neville's artless question made Ron flush with embarrassment. He shook his head,
"No, no, bad joke, forget it and tell us about that Passion Tree you've been growing. Uh, does it make you want to snog somebody if you eat the fruit?"
Sweat drops didn't roll down her brother's cheek when the other boy started explaining about the Passionata Fruit, but his relief was palpable all the same. He met her eyes and gave a grimace of apology. She smiled faintly in return. A tawny owl swooped down from the rafters and glided over Gryffindor Table to land in front of McGonagall. Ginny idly wondered what the contents of the letter were. Her curiosity was soon satisfied,
"Ginevra Weasley, please come forward."
Colin looked from the stern mien of the Head of Gryffindor to his friend,
"Are you in trouble, Ginny?"
She tried to smile, "Guess I'll soon find out."
A quick glance showed that Draco was watching, a frown of concern on his face. Standing in front of McGonagall, she said, "Yes ma'am?"
In a low voice, the teacher informed,
"Your parents have sent for you, child."
"Professor McGonagall will accompany you to The Three Broomsticks, where you will floo home, my dear."
Dumbledore's eyes weren't twinkling. Her stomach dropped, "Am I being removed from school, Sir?"
Kindly, he denied,
"Of course not…but time is of the essence, so please step this way."
His hand gestured to the Staff Entrance. McGonagall had already headed in that direction. Unable to help it, Ginny's gaze gravitated to her boyfriend. He was starting to rise from his seat, but her shaking head and Blaise's restraining hand kept him from making a scene. At Gryffindor Table, Ron was staring at her with an unhappy look on his face. Her eyes widened in realization. He'd Owled mum and dad! They were dragging her home because her self-righteous, lying bastard of a brother had gone back on his promise! Giving him a look of absolute loathing, she ignored the whispers that were starting to swell and followed her teacher down a spartan corridor to the entryway.
Outside, the stars were beginning to shine. The beauty of the night was lost on Ginny. All she could think was Do they know? If they know, how much do they know? What will they do, what will I say… What did Ronald say? Oh Merlin, I could give him a Bat-Bogey Hex so easily right now!
The night breeze rustled the leaves of the trees alongside the path. In silence, McGonagall led the way to Hogsmeade with her wand providing illumination. The severe expression and rigidly upright posture were more nerve wracking than if the older witch had expressed her disapproval verbally. In the village, the Transfiguration Professor briskly ushered Gin into the pub and told Rosmerta,
"This student has been called home. May we use your floo?"
Wiping her hands on the apron slung around her shapely waist, the barkeep nodded, "Of course, go alon the back office."
Once they'd crossed the threshold of the small chamber, Ginny grabbed a handful of floo powder and stepped onto the hearth. Her Head of House unbent enough to say,
"I'm sure…the matter…will be resolved soon, Miss Weasley. I look forward to seeing you upon your return."
Unable to do more than nod, the girl said, "Thank you, professor." Taking a deep breath, she threw the powder while saying her destination.
The lounge of The Burrow didn't look like she remembered it. The furniture was arranged the same, the same books stood on the same shelves, but everything was…tidy... The clutter was missing, the items placed momentarily on tabletops and bookshelves that were normally forgotten and allowed to become part of the cozy ambiance were gone. No magazines were scattered on the sofa table, no Owl post was stacked up on a shelf, no piles of spare change, Muggle artifacts, or empty teacups were strewn around. All the surfaces were bare and dust free. The window panes sparkled in the candlelight. Seeing the result of Spring Cleaning didn't give Ginny a 'Thank Merlin I didn't have to help' rush of enjoyment. For some reason, her insides cramped up in a spasm so great she dropped to her knees, holding her abdomen as if trying to hold back the 'sight' that told her something truly awful was about to happen.
"Ginny love, are you alright?"
Her father's kind, concerned face came into view. Arthur lifted his daughter and held her close for a moment. After she reassured him that she was fine, he gently disengaged. Everything seemed slightly out of focus as she watched her dad step away… Ginny blinked away the sheen of tears and saw that beneath the anxiety for her health was a graver worry that frightened her terribly. In dread, she whispered, "Daddy? Why did you send for me?"
Running a hand through his short, ginger hair, her father said,
"Your mother wanted to bring you home on Sunday, but I knew that wasn't a good idea." While her brain froze, thinking Shite, Sunday, Ron didn't even wait a day, Shite, Shite, Shite, his lopsided smile made her throat start aching, "Very emotional woman, our Molly. I…well…I insisted she wait until the weekend, when she…we…could talk with you more reasonably." Glancing around the room, Arthur noted absently, "I don't think she's ever done the Spring Cleaning with such enthusiasm before."
"What your father means is that I've been a madwoman- why else would I clean underneath the bookcases?"
Turning slowly, Ginny met her mother's bleak gaze and pressed her lips together tightly in order not to break down. Mum had looked like this before- when Gran died. Dragging around in an old bathrobe, hair uncombed, eyes red-rimmed, alternating between a zombie-like state and raw, anguished fury… They had all stepped warily until Molly had worked through her grief.
"Did…did Ron OWL you, mum?"
Shaking her head, Molly said distractedly,
"Ron?"
Dad asked,
"Why would Ronald OWL?"
Mum continued, disregarding her husband's question to focus on her child,
"No, Ginevra, your brother didn't tattle on some little prank." Ginny watched apprehensively while her mum's face began to harden, brown eyes and twisted smile projecting the bitter humor in her voice, "You gave yourself away, dear." Out of the pocket of her bathrobe, Molly took out a rectangular card. Staring at it in shock, the girl's mind flashed back to her sixteenth birthday…
The day had been bittersweet, start to finish. Her family was beyond wonderful, taking her to Diagon Alley for a shopping spree, making her the center of attention all day. Fred, George, and Bill had more than made up for her other brothers' absence. After the twins conjured paella for dinner, they remembered that Blaise had come by the shop. The Slytherin had asked them to hand deliver her birthday card, since post from the Zabinis wasn't accepted at The Burrow anymore. While mum, dad, and Bill cleaned up after dinner, Fred and George gave her the card and left the lounge to give her privacy to open it. After reading the birthday wishes from Blaise and secret message from Draco, the twins came in and told her it was time to blow out the candles on her cake. Not wanting mum to see the card and ask questions, Ginny placed it on a bookshelf, intending to come back and take it to her room later…
But she hadn't, she'd forgotten in the excitement of meeting Draco in her father's workshop later that night when he made her birthday wish come true just by being there…and loving her. A slender hand rose to cover her mouth. She'd blamed Ron, when all this time…
"The card was just sitting there, on the shelf, with all the other clutter." Molly walked over to the bookshelf she'd found it on and re-enacted picking it up, "I thought nothing of a birthday card, even one from that Zabini girl, until I read her message and the last line struck me as decidedly odd."
"Mum, don't"
"Don't tell me what to do Ginevra Molly Weasley! I'll thank you to keep your mouth shut until told otherwise, do you hear?"
The deep anger in her mother's tone made Ginny glad that they'd waited to bring her home. What must mum have been like Sunday? Molly's wrath flashed across her face before fading into a mirthless smile that was even harder to take,
"You must admit, 'Say Happy Birthday Sweet Sixteen' is quite strange, even read aloud. I couldn't understand why the girl would write such a thing, until I saw the message that became visible." Looking down at the card, Mum read tonelessly,
Ginny,
I wish I could write this for the world to see, but I guess my feelings, like the sketches, are better hidden for now. Happy Birthday, and when you blow out the candles, if you make a wish about us, I'll do my best to make it come true.
Love,
Draco
Smoothing the card over and over in a repetitive, disturbing motion, Molly's eyes blinked furiously for a moment, before she took a breath and uttered numbly,
"Love, Draco… It finally made sense then, the way you'd been acting over the last holidays, the things you'd said, and your new friend."
"Now, dearest, I told you we should talk to Ginny before jumping to conclusions…"
Walking to Arthur's side, the plump, sweet-faced woman smiled briefly and affectionately stroked his cheek, before turning to transfix her daughter with a grim gaze,
"Have I jumped to conclusions, Ginevra?"
The girl buried her face in her hands, wishing that she could go back and pick up that card, or write the letter that she'd never got past 'Dear Mum and Dad'. She couldn't go back, and she couldn't lie anymore. Wiping her tears with the backs of her fingers like a little girl, Ginny whispered,
"No"
-
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A/N: This chap felt like the end of The Empire Strikes Back! You don't have to wait years to find out what happens to Han Solo and Princess Leia, though. Does that perspective make it better? Didn't think so… Lo siento mucho, wonderful, understanding, forgiving reviewers! Yes, perceptive people, I did indeed have Draco use a variation of Capn' Jack Sparrow's 'I may have deserved that…' lines from when he kept getting slapped in PotC. Had to add a little humour, luvs, to help our love boat ride the waves of angst. :D