Chapter 41- Turn, Turn, Turn
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Ginny saw first hand the power of the spoken word. The moment she said 'No,' that Molly wasn't jumping to conclusions in thinking that her daughter's past actions had been driven by a secret relationship with Draco, her mum bent forward as though absorbing a body blow.
Arthur placed an arm around his wife and led her toward the sofa.
Molly gazed despairingly at him. "Was it something we did? Have we tried to protect her from evil and horror too much? Should we have told her exactly how Harry's parents died, how our family and friends were tortured and executed without mercy?" Her hands clutched at him. "What could we have done to prevent this?"
"We've raised our children the best we could. There comes a time, when they alone are responsible for their actions." Arthur told his daughter firmly, "Have a seat. We're going to talk."
Ginny sat in a chair diagonal from her parents, brushing away hair that had clung to her tear-streaked face. "What do you want to know?"
Molly had a dull, faraway look on her face. "When did you first start…seeing…M–that boy?"
"October."
Her mother shifted from apathy back to anger. "All that time you've hidden this…this folly." Brown eyes turned hard. "Why would a Slytherin like him, a boy with the reputation he's earned, stay with one girl all this time? What did you give him to keep his interest, young lady?"
"Now, Molly."
Arthur's restraining hand was pushed away as her mum leaned forward. "Are you still a virgin, Ginevra?"
If Ginny could Apparate, she would be long gone. Hurt and furious at the assumption that Draco would only want her for sex, she shot back, "Yes…and not because of me. I said he didn't have to stop. He's the one who said I was too young, that it wouldn't be right."
"I did not raise my daughter to be a slut!"
Cheeks flushed with anger, Ginny glared at her equally red-faced mother. "I'm not a slut. If we had made love, I wouldn't be any different than you, Mum."
Molly jerked her head back as though she had been slapped. "I…I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, really? Then someone else carved Molly Prewett loves Arthur Weasley with all her heart, body and soul on the back wall of the large linen cupboard on the fifth floor?"
It was her mum's turn to look shocked and horrified. They stared at each other in taut silence.
Arthur drew his wife's attention by taking her hand. He gave her a small smile. "That's the way I've always felt about you."
Molly's face softened. "I promised to wear your ring forever. I've never taken it off, and I never will."
The deep love her parents shared made Ginny turn her face away, blinking furiously. "Why is my loving someone any different just because he's a Malfoy?"
"He's a Slytherin, from a family of Death Eaters, and you can't trust him!"
Before Ginny could do more than open her mouth, her father interjected, "Your cousins, the Blacks, were a family of Death Eaters…and my family told me not to trust you, dear."
Molly surged to her feet. She went to stare out the window, arms crossed defensively.
Arthur saw his daughter's disbelief. "Yes, I'm afraid the Weasleys have always been a narrow-minded clan. It wasn't until Gideon and Fabian Prewett died working for the Order, in the fight against You-Know-Who, that my family came round to the idea of us getting married."
"They didn't just die," Molly said furiously, "they were murdered in cold blood by Death Eaters!" She pinned Ginny with a gimlet stare, saying in a low, cold voice, "And your boyfriend's father was one of the killers!"
"Dearest, please, we don't know that for sure."
Molly took a step toward her husband. "I know, because the bastard told me so himself!" Hearing Ginny's gasp, she smiled cynically. "Wondering how Lucius Malfoy could let something like that slip? I wasn't always plump, dear. Once upon a time I was quite pretty."
"You were beautiful, and you still are."
Her mother's fleeting, loving smile upon hearing Arthur's sincere words made Ginny remember those old photos she used to love to watch. Mum had indeed been vivacious and so pretty that it wasn't any wonder her dad had fallen for her.
Molly's smile turned bitter. "When we first married, I tried to stay in touch with the other side of my family. The Blacks always threw a Yule party, and we attended the one Narcissa held in her mansion." She leaned over the back of the sofa to place her hand on her husband's shoulder. "I never told you, love, because I didn't want you to retaliate, but Lucius cornered me in an upper corridor after I'd gone to find a loo and…."
"Did he put his hands on you?"
She nodded. "He tried to coax me into a nearby bedroom, said no one would ever know. He wanted to give me a present. When I refused, Lucius said I made him regret sparing a single Prewett!"
Arthur jumped to his feet, moving to gather his wife into his arms.
Ginny cried, "Draco is not his father. Why can't you see that? Why won't you give him a chance?"
Molly looked at her daughter with haunted eyes. "I can't risk it. I just can't."
Arthur cleared his throat. "Ginny, why don't you go make a pot of tea while I take your mother upstairs?"
"Yes, yes, I'm too tired to talk anymore," said Molly. "We'll…we'll speak on this again later." She leaned against her husband's shoulder, shuffling out of the room like an old lady.
Numb from all the revelations, Ginny walked over and picked up the birthday card from Blaise and Draco. Unconsciously, she smoothed it several times before placing it inside her pocket. In the kitchen, she added water to the kettle on the Aga. Her dad had brought it home out of a love for all things Muggle. The range didn't work, but they used magic instead of heating elements, anyway.
She made two cups of tea, adding two cubes of sugar to each. Upstairs, she paused outside her parents' room.
"Everything will work out, darling. Wait and see." Arthur said bracingly. "We've been through rougher patches than this, my love."
"But what if he hurts her, or uses her to get to Harry or puts our baby in Vol–his clutches again? I won't survive losing another child. I won't!"
Throat aching with the effort of suppressing another round of tears, Ginny knocked on the door. When he opened the door, she silently offered the mugs.
"Thank you, sweetheart. Why don't you run along to your room for awhile?"
Kissing her on the cheek, he closed the door and returned to the woman whose pitiful keening was so gut-wrenching, Ginny ran to her room to escape it. Sobbing into her pillow to muffle the sound, she cried herself to sleep.
Hours later, a hand smoothed back her hair. She murmured, "Draco?"
"No. It's Fred."
"And George. He cut me off at the stairs to get here first."
"Don't be jealous, brother. I've always had the better moves."
"Not with the ladies, old man, and that's where they count."
The cheerful banter brought a reluctant smile to Ginny's face. "I guess you know, huh?"
They exchanged a quick glance before explaining together, "Ron owled."
Glad now that she hadn't hexed her brother, she tried to smile, but the effort was pitiful and the identical faces looked back at her in concern. They enveloped her in a double hug.
"Now, now, it's not the end of the world, Gin blossom."
"Gin blossom! Crikey, Fred, you promised not to call her that anymore when she turned ten!"
"Oh, yeah, sorry."
She smiled more naturally. "I don't mind so much anymore, carrot top."
Running over to the mirror, Fred and George both scrutinised their red hair.
"Not carroty at all, is it, Gred?"
"Indeed not, Forge. Why, just last night, you said that Alicia l–uh–liked it."
Amazed to find she could actually laugh at the guilty look on her brothers' faces, she said, "Alicia? I heard a rumour you two were dating French twins. Who's Alicia? Alicia Spinnet?"
George examined his fingernails.
Fred smirked. "Can't you see that our brother is in the throes of true love?"
George punched him in the shoulder. "Why don't you tell her that you and Angelina are back together, big mouth?"
Returning the jab, Fred snapped, "Take a look in the mirror and shut it, big mouth."
"No. You shut it."
"Be quiet or be hexed!" Ginny said loudly.
The smugly curving mouths revealed that the pair were pleased the contrived squabble had distracted their little sister from her worries and tears. Pinching both of them on the arm, Ginny ignored their yelps and threats to tell on her. She asked, "Have you seen Mum? Is she any better?"
"If lying on the bed staring off like the living dead instead of crying is an improvement, then yeah, she's better," said George.
A tear rolled down Ginny's cheek. "Do you hate me for breaking her heart again?"
Two identical sets of brown eyes flickered sideways in wordless communication. Turning as one to look at her, the pair shook their heads.
"If we hated you…."
"Would we give you this?"
Ginny recognised the bold handwriting and felt her heart slam in her chest.
George said, "Dad asked us to make sure you don't run off."
"Or do something equally rash, so we'll be watching the corridor outside your room. Sorry."
They exited with remorseful smiles. She couldn't be angry that her brothers had been officially made her keepers, not when they'd given her a message from the one person she'd most longed to hear from. Ginny took the precious letter to the window seat. Carefully sliding a fingernail underneath the wax seal, she smiled through tears.
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An hour after curfew, Luna tossed and turned in her bed. Sleep was impossible when her mind was racing with so many unanswered questions. Why had Ginny been sent home? Did her parents know they had lied about Easter Holiday? If they did, did her father know yet? Was he going to yank her out of school too?
She sat up and punched her pillows flat before fluffing them back up. She flopped down to stare up at the canopy overhead. First year, she had affixed night-glowing stars to the fabric, so she would have something interesting to look at in the darkness.
The softly luminescent constellations were relaxing to gaze upon. Although they didn't make her drowsy, staring fixedly at the stars did allow the girl to drift into state between waking and sleep that allowed her imagination to form a vision she had seen before, once upon a dream….
-
"Luna!"
Her stepmother's shrill voice wafted up through the open attic window. With a resigned sigh, she trudged down two flights of stairs and stood in the doorway of the master suite. "Yes?"
"Cease standing there gawking, girl, and come in!"
Luna stepped into the room that had been redecorated after her father's remarriage into something resembling a pink bordello. She avoided looking into a narrowed green gaze. Ivanna Lovegood was always looking for an excuse to discipline her new 'daughter', and she had learned to avoid giving her one. Scrubbing and cooking the Muggle way were not how she wanted to spend her time.
"Mumsie, Mumsie, did the invitation come? Did it? Did it?"
Two young ladies burst into the chamber. The woman lying upon the bed with an eye mask pushed up to rest like a bizarre tiara on a pile of blonde hair was distracted from whatever scold she'd been about to deliver. Identically blonde and petite, Mary Kate and Ashley weren't wicked stepsisters, just annoying ones. They followed their new 'sister' about, asking empty-headed questions like do you like sleeping up in that pokey room in the attic, and you're so good at cleaning and conjuring spells, is that why Mumsie always has you doing them?
They practically quivered with eagerness while waiting for the answer to their simultaneously asked question. When a thin, red-tipped hand lifted a small enveloped embellished with a lavish crest, the girls shrieked in unison, "Yay, Yay, we're going to the ball!" Together, Ashley and Mary Kate bounded over to Luna and danced around her.
"Is this not the most exciting news ever?"
"We have to go shopping!"
Ivanna waited for her girls to quiet. "Yes, darlings, we will go shopping." Turning to her stepdaughter, the older woman frowned. "Even you, ungrateful wretch that you are. The Malfoys have invited all pure-blooded young ladies in the hopes that the heir will finally choose a suitable bride."
"Will he choose us, Mumsie?"
Ivanna spoke slowly and carefully as she explained, not for the first time, "No, darlings, he can only pick one of you. Unless you want to go live in a tent in the desert, my loves, husband sharing is not an option."
"Oh," they said together.
Dismissed to allow the witch to prepare for a gruelling day of shopping, the three girls made their way downstairs. The twins gave their orders for breakfast, and Luna continued on to the kitchen to conjure the requested food. She didn't mind…too much…waiting on her stepsisters. They were rather amusing at times, and Merlin knew the girls were a trial to their mother, which was their best quality. She laughed to herself over the thought of them marrying an Arab sheik and asking their new husband why they had to wear veils.
Later, she followed behind the trio leaving a trail of devastation in their wake searching every Diagon Alley dress shop. Luna paused to gaze into 'Ye Olde Curiosity Shoppe.' On the other side of the glass, a handsome young man smiled at her. She smiled back and impulsively entered the shop when he gestured for her to come inside.
"Hello," she said shyly.
He returned her greeting merrily, bright blue eyes twinkling. "Shopping for the ball, hmmm? Looking for that special gown to catch a pure-blood prince's eye?"
She shook her head. "No. I am not interested in princes."
A golden eyebrow rose. With a smile that caused adorable dimples to deepen, he said, "Really? What kind of man are you looking for, Miss…."
"Luna…Luna Lovegood…and I do not know, actually. Maybe a pirate."
A flashing white smile accompanied the pleased laughter that rang out at her words.
On the other side of the shop, a clerk said, "Your spyglass is wrapped and ready, Captain Roberts."
Luna stared, wide-eyed.
The captain winked, lifted her hand to his lips, and murmured, "Please, call me Wesley."
The piercing sound of her name being called caused the girl to back away. She said regretfully, "I must go. Goodbye."
Captain…Wesley…watched her walk backwards with a roguish grin. "Until we meet again, Bella Luna."
Sharp fingernails dug into the girl's arm, causing her to gasp and whirl around to face the woman who would never replace her mother.
"Stop flirting like a common trull," Ivanna said, "and go inside Madame DeFarge's and try on the gown I picked out for you!"
After one last, wistful glance back, Luna dutifully went into the dress shop.
She tried on the gown, turning from side to side to see if there was possibly one redeeming feature to the ballgown. There wasn't. The velvet looked as though it had the mange, with all the worn patches on the beige surface. The overwhelming plainness was highlighted by the lack of lace, trim, or embroidery. With the high neck and empire waist, the gown looked like it belonged to a…a….
"Pregnant governess! That is what Luna's dress reminds me of, Ashley!" said Mary Kate. "Remember when we paid a morning call on the Notts and their third cousin by marriage had gotten in trouble and had to come be a governess? Her dress looked just like that."
"No, it did not. It was grey."
"Oh."
The girls noticed their stepsister overheard them and had the grace to blush. Mary Kate said, "At least you do not look pregnant."
That was such a consolation. Rushing into the dressing area, Luna wondered why it still hurt whenever her stepmother showed how much she despised the living reminder of her husband's beloved first wife. She admitted to herself that she'd had a fantasy of dancing at the ball with a handsome pirate…and the dress had shattered it. Who would want to dance with a girl as frumpy as she was going to be?
Thankfully, Father had gone on another business trip, so she didn't have to pretend that she was content going to the ball in a glorified potato sack.
When she sat facing the three decked out in satin and jewels on the carriage seat opposite, Luna was glad that she'd never had a problem with motion sickness, although she wouldn't mind heaving onto her stepmother's gaudy scarlet and black ensemble.
Identical in blue, ruffled gowns, the twins were arguing over who looked prettier.
"You look gorgeous, Mary Kate."
"No, you are going to be the fairest of them all, Ashley."
"I must protest. Draco Malfoy is going to fall instantly in love with you MK."
"Sister, spare my blushes. I know he is going to want to dance only with you and that for the rest of the night he will tell every other man that you are his partner."
"Stop that inane babbling this instant!" Ivanna screeched.
Luna giggled inside to hear the woman have to placate the twins in order to avert a crying jag that would ruin their makeup and her plans for being the mother-in-law of the heir to the Malfoy fortune. Once at the Mansion that made the ironically named Mrs. Lovegood sigh with covetousness, a footman assisted the ladies down from the carriage.
Inside the stately entry, three of the guests moved toward the ballroom. Luna lingered behind when she heard someone call her name.
"Pssst! Up here! Come upstairs, quickly!"
Dramatic as ever, Luna's childhood friend Blaise didn't stop gesturing imperiously until the girl had slipped up the grand staircase. In a gossamer creation of silver and gold, the curly-haired young woman looked every inch the pampered princess. Dark brows rising at the sight of the gown she condemned as a 'crime against couture', the Zabini heiress pulled her former playmate into her bedroom.
She told the redhead waiting inside, "Look what those witches forced our dear friend to wear! I think the tweenie who empties the chamber pots is wearing a nicer gown to the Servants' ball!"
"Yes, she is, but do you have to be so blunt?" Ginny Weasley said with a smile. "Hello, Luna, it has been a long time. Your stepmother never admits visitors and returns letters, so we figured it would be easier to grab you as you entered."
Being hugged was a strange experience, familiar and yet not since it had been years since anyone had placed their arms around her. Luna returned the hug. "Hello. My thanks for saving me from the embarrassment of entering the ballroom in my pathetic finery. How are you?"
Ginny lifted a chain out of the bodice of her emerald green gown. Her lightly freckled face glowed with happiness. "I am betrothed. Secretly, until tonight, when we announce it to everyone."
Luna's eyes widened. "You mean…but this ball…?"
Blaise laughed at her amazement. "Yes, it is all a plot. Once a noble formally announces his betrothal, it cannot be broken. Are we not clever?"
An admiring smile accompanied Luna's nod. "Oh, the cleverness of you."
"Wait until you see your dress, Cinderella." Blaise winked. "You shall say it like you mean it, then."
Ginny pressed a portion of the wall which slid away to reveal a hidden dressing room. Leading the wary blonde into the chamber, she pointed to the dress hanging from a mannequin in the middle of the large space. "What do you think?"
The ice blue gown with silver embroidery and lace was like nothing to be found in a Diagon Alley dress shop. It was Parisian, exquisite, and…. "It is too costly, I cannot…."
"You will!"
The unanimous expression was followed by waves of two wands. In a trice, her friends had shredded her beige gown, smiling all the while. Left with no alternative, Luna remembered her mother's family motto, flecti, non frangi, may we bend, not be broken. She said, "Oh, the cleverness of you!"
Laughing and hugging her again, the friends quickly summoned a house-elf. The reflection in the mirror, once they had finished, was like something out of a fairytale. Maybe it was the intricately curled upswept hair, or the charmed glass slippers. Whatever the reason, Luna had never felt more beautiful, and for once in her life, actually looked forward to going to a party instead of longing to be home with a book.
Downstairs, the young ladies were announced to the gathering in the ballroom with a courtly flourish. Two men approached, one brown haired, one blond. The blue eyes of the darker man smiled as he reached Blaise's side and bent to kiss her hand. After complimenting his partner, he said, "Good evening, Miss Lovegood. I must say, you are looking exceedingly lovely."
"Thank you, Mr. Boot."
The blond man, whose classic features put the nearby statuary to shame, echoed the sentiment, bent over Ginny's hand and swept her off to join the dancers in a waltz.
Luna watched Draco and Ginny circle the room. She turned to Blaise and Terry, saying, "Please, do not feel you have to keep me company."
"Not when I am so eager to keep yours," said a voice from Luna's daydreams.
Vivid blue eyes gleamed with an interest she returned in full. Smiling widely as Wesley…Captain Roberts…thanked his old schoolmate Terry for procuring him an invitation, Luna acceded to the formal request for a dance.
He told her about himself as they waltzed and asked how she spent her days. Held closer than absolutely proper to a man who would probably scandalise half the pure-blood snobs in the room by his cheerfully admitted mixed parentage and dubious occupation of privateer, she gladly allowed him to manoeuvre her out a set of French doors.
On the terrace, standing together in the moonlight, he said, "If I pay you a call in the morning, would I be admitted?"
Sadly, she shook her head. "Stepmother does not permit me to entertain callers."
He cupped her cheek with his hand. "Bella Luna, if I told you I fell in love with you at first sight, and ask you to run away with me, sail into the horizon, explore the world with me as my wife, will you come?"
Her lips curved. "Kiss me."
The touch of his mouth made everything she'd ever longed for coalesce into one need–to leave her old life and begin a voyage of love.
The shrill voice of her stepmother sounded. Inside the ballroom, people were clapping and two young ladies were sobbing.
Luna took Wesley's hand and ran with him to the stables, never once looking back.
-
Still lying on her bed in Ravenclaw Tower, Luna's breathing became slow and deep. Against the blue velvet canopy, enchanted representations of stars glimmered softly. With a contented sigh, she drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face.
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Two hours past curfew, Blaise tried to sleep, but couldn't. In the Great Hall, she'd been so afraid that Draco would storm up to the Headmaster and demand to know why Ginny was being removed from school. After dinner, he had paced like a caged lion in the common room, snarling at everyone who tried to ask what was wrong that it was none of their damn business.
All she could do was try to reassure him that Ginny would use her Melusine Mirror, sooner or later. As minutes crawled slowly past until hours had eventually gone by, her best mate's mood had become so dark and brooding that she had said, "Why don't you go for a ride? Take your broom out over the lake or something. The Weasleys are probably just trying to make sure their little girl isn't under a love spell or pregnant."
White-blond brows had arched disdainfully, even while sculptured lips twitched. "You can't get pregnant from kissing, Zabini, so stop worrying."
"What a relief. Maybe now I'll stop dreaming about having triplets."
The short laugh her sarcasm earned had made Blaise smile.
Draco said, "Thanks for putting up with me. I think I'll go take that broomride. Good night."
"Good night."
The Greengrass twins had trailed Blaise up the girls' staircase.
"What's made Malfoy so grumpy?"
"Are you two fighting?"
Easily shaking off two sets of twig-thin fingers, Blaise said, "None of your damn business."
The thought of how much the twins had resembled fish opening and closing their mouths in disbelief made her snicker softly, even while considering slipping out of the dorm to go see if Ginny had mirrored Draco yet. Waiting sucked.
She felt her own mirror become warm beneath her pillow and sat up. A whispered lumos minor provided soft light in her enclosed bed. Blaise pulled out a small square to look down into Terry's reflected face.
"Hey, baby, did I wake you?" he said.
"No, I can't sleep, worrying about everything."
His slow smile made her pulse leap in anticipation. "How about a ride in the moonlight?"
Suddenly, she noticed that long brown strands were blowing across his face. "Are you?"
"Yes. Go open the window."
Blaise slid off the bed and tiptoed over to the window after performing a warming charm. No way was she going to go on a romantic ride in the moonlight bundled up in layers of clothes to keep from getting chilled.
When she clambered onto the wide ledge, her boyfriend said, "Uh…aren't you going to get cold?"
He was wearing denims and a long sleeved jersey. She grinned. "Warming charm. Why? Don't you like my outfit?" She was wearing a white tank and hip hugging, fitted white boxers.
Terry's wolfish smile gleamed in the darkness. "Oh I like it. Hop on."
Blaise sat leaning back against his chest. His arm anchored her while she closed the double windows almost all the way. She turned her head to the side to gaze at him happily as they rose into the air and headed toward the lake.
Terry said, "I was studying by candlelight when a bloke on a broomstick rapped on my window. He offered me his 'spare Firebolt' and suggested that you might enjoy a ride in the moonlight." He chuckled. "I sat gaping for about two seconds before grabbing the broomstick. All I could say was 'thanks, mate.'"
"Did Draco fall off his broom?"
"No. He said, 'yeah, fine, whatever. Keep the broom hidden because if someone finds it I'll say it was stolen.'" His husky laugh made her giggle and sent a shiver down her spine. "You Slytherins don't take compliments or gratitude easily, do you?"
"Feel free to compliment me all you want."
"I will." Terry's fingers slipped underneath the tank to caress her abdomen while he told her how much he loved the contrast between her skin and the white fabric. He went on to describe other things he loved.
Flying above the lake with the moonlight glimmering on the surface was a magical experience. After circling the water, they touched down beside a familiar willow. Beneath the fronds ending in tips resembling a Dragon's Claw, Blaise saw the blanket on the ground. She stretched out on it. "I was reminded tonight that kissing doesn't cause pregnancy. Good thing, hmmm?"
Terry removed his jersey before stretching his warm, firm body against hers. "Too bad. I wanted to go for triplets." When she laughed, he leaned over her, silky hair brushing her cheeks. "Think that's funny, do you? How about this?"
This was a kiss that took breath and laughter away. Returning the sweet pressure, her hands began to slide over the muscular planes of his back while his fingers slowly pushed up the hem of her tank.
Outside their shadowy hiding place, a man spoke. "You finally came. I wondered if you'd ever have the nerve."
Blaise froze. It was the new Ancient Runes professor–Hook. Terry held her close while they silently listened.
A woman said, "You have a nerve, James Hook, sending owl after owl to flap against my window with one note after another to meet you at this…this willow you were seen leaving after a tryst with Lorelei!"
"A tryst? Why, Sybil, haven't you heard that the Potions professor is faithful to her lover the Potions Master? No? Perhaps you should come down out of your tower more often, m'dear."
Blaise could see Terry's eyes widen in amazement. She felt the same way. What in Merlin's name was going on here?
The indignant Divination teacher cried, "Stop wrapping my hair around that blasted hook! You gave up any and all right to touch my person when you left me, James!"
The girl's fingers tightened their grip on the boy's shoulders in surprise.
On the other side of the concealing branches, the man said, "You told me if I left on my last assignment it would be over between us, because I would die a grisly death." Hook's voice lowered. "What twists your knickers tighter, Sybil? The fact that I stayed away when you told me to, or that I didn't die?"
"I had a prophetic vision, James! I saw the crocodile guardian of that Egyptian tomb drag you down to a watery grave. I was horrified, distraught." Trelawney's voice rose. "How could you stay away when you knew I didn't really mean it!"
The eavesdroppers held each other tighter in reaction to the emotion in the woman's voice before she ran away, sobbing. Silence fell, before the sound of a match lighting and the smell of cigar smoke drifted through the fronds.
Hook said reflectively, "I thought you did mean it, m'dear. What a fine kettle of fish. I didn't even ask my questions. Ah well, perhaps I should observe my…colleague's…class. After all, as Headmaster Dumbledore used to say, if at first you don't succeed, try, try again."
Once the mysterious professor had ambled back to the castle, Terry kissed her briefly. "We had probably better get back to our dorms."
She hugged him. "Where should we meet tomorrow to try, try again?" Blaise smiled at his suggestion of the linen cupboard on the fifth floor, and laughed throatily when he offered to try for those triplets through kissing a little while longer tonight.
-
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When the lights of Hogwarts had been dimmed for three and a half hours, Draco lay sleepless. He was tired of waiting for Ginny to contact him. If patience was a virtue, then virtue was overrated.
Earlier, he had written a note and swallowed his pride to go to Gryffindor Tower. The first year he had ordered to go tell Ronald Weasley that someone wanted to see him out in the corridor had looked curiously at his hooded and cloaked figure, but hadn't scraped up the nerve to ask for his name. Not that he would've told the little snotrag if questioned.
He had stood in the shadows across from the nosy painting that kept trying to guess his identity, waiting impatiently for Weasley to get his arse outside. Finally the portrait lifted.
A lanky redhead had looked around, saw him and called, "Oi, who are you and what do you want?"
"I'm a ferret who wants a favour."
Blue eyes bugged out in a way that might've been amusing, if Draco had been in a mood to appreciate the humour of the situation. As it was, he gestured sharply for the other boy to leave the doorway and walk over to where the avidly listening guardian painting would be unable to hear. He held out and envelope. "Would you owl this to those twin brothers of yours? They'll probably be called to go home. When they do, they can slip this note to Ginny."
Weasley had demanded, "Tell me what it says, first."
Several deep breaths had enabled him to calm and quote from memory, "Ginny, I'm sorry things turned out this way. If I could, I'd be like the bloke in one of those sonnets you like, saying…." He broke off, reluctant to share something so personal.
"What? If you don't tell me, I won't send it."
Draco had closed his eyes, unable to force out the words if he had to look at Weasley's face. "Such is my love, to thee I so belong, that for thy right, myself will bear all wrong. Let me know you're okay."
Looking as though he was about to spew a slug, the boy scrunched his face unhappily. "Fine. I'll go to the Owlery, but it isn't because I feel guilty about anything. It's for Ginny, and this is the only letter I'm sending."
"I'll accompany you."
Weasley had said over his shoulder, "Keep your hood up. I don't want anyone to see me walking with you."
"Like I'd be overjoyed."
"Shut the bloody hell up, Ferret!"
Draco had shut up, and Ginny's hot-tempered brother had sent a note attached to a message to his siblings in Diagon Alley.
As the hours passed, his Slytherin inner voice kept coming up with ominous reasons why she hadn't contacted him.
Maybe her parents have called in Aurors to make sure she isn't under a spell, potion, or an Imperius. Perhaps they're just making her tell them all the details of the relationship–the how, what, when, where, and why. Or they could be taking her out of the country, transferring her to another school, so a wicked Malfoy can't corrupt an innocent Weasley anymore.
The thought of his girlfriend being interrogated, crying, made sleep impossible. He tried to think happy thoughts, but even imagining Ginny in a leopard print bikini on a hammock became darkened by the knowledge that he might never see her that way again.
"Draco?" Blaise had opened his bed curtains. She held a wand with a softly glowing tip.
He frowned. "What are you doing up here at this time of night? Where's your Invisibility Cloak?"
She sat on the edge of his bed. "When Terry brought me back to my room, I saw the messenger bag I keep the cloak in and had a flash of inspiration. I threw on a robe and hurried up to see you."
"Why weren't you wearing a robe?"
Even in dim light, he could see her blush. "Warming charm, and that has nothing to do with anything. Don't interrupt." When he smirked, she pretended to glare, before grinning. "I ran down to the common room with the bag, called for Slinky, and asked him to pop over to The Burrow and give it to Ginny along with a message."
He jack-knifed upright. "Tell me what you wrote."
"I said that you wanted to see her. I asked Ginny to reply and say whether she thought that she could use the cloak to sneak out of the house and meet you in her father's workshop." She offered a scrap of parchment. "Here."
Merlin, his fingers were shaking. He unfolded the message.
Draco,
I won't be okay until I see you. Fred and George have guard duty, but I know I can sneak round them, and meet you in the workshop.
He yanked open the curtains and checked the time on the fireplace mantel clock. "I've only got half an hour! What do I do?" Draco bounded over to his trunk and began to dig through meticulously folded clothing. Unselfconsciously, he changed rapidly while commanding, "Don't just stand there staring, think of something!"
Blaise placed her hands on her hips. "Hey, if you strip, I'm going to stare. It's one of the perks of being your best mate."
"What's mine?"
"Well, since I'm not going to flaunt my body, you'll have to make do with my brilliant ideas." She placed her hand on his arm, squeezing it reassuringly. "Fly over to the Hog's Head, since it never seems to close, and use their Floo."
He smiled. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again. You're the best."
Draco bounded downstairs. He jogged through the empty corridors to the shed holding his Firebolt. A quick counter spell to unlock the door, and he was soon pushing off into a vertical lift and headed toward Hogsmeade.
He sauntered into the Hog's Head Tavern. The unsavoury patrons watched curiously as he headed straight for the back room.
"Where're you going?" demanded the barman.
Draco tossed him a pouch of Galleons without stopping. He quickly entered the bare chamber and crossed to the fireplace. Stepping out onto the workshop hearth a few moments later, he barely had time to brush off the remnants of powder before Ginny hurtled across the space and into his arms.
"I'm so happy you're here! I loved your note, but I needed to see you so much!" Kisses were rained over his face between words, ending in an urgent moulding of her lips to his.
He responded, the anxiety he'd felt over the last hours expressing itself without words. Passionate, almost rough, kisses and caresses reassured that he was really there. They were really together. Slowly, the embrace changed to softer, deeper kisses.
When his lips finally pulled away from hers, Ginny buried her head against his chest. "This night's been the worst of my life. Worse than finding out Dad was in hospital, worse than when Gran, or Sirius died."
He didn't want to ask, but made himself, "Did…did they say you couldn't see me anymore?"
"No. They're still in shock that I lied about it all this time." She saw his expression and took his face in her hands. "I don't care what they say. I'm not giving you up. I love you!"
"Good, because I love you, and I won't let you go." The tender kiss he pressed to her forehead led to kisses being brushed against her eyelids, over the cinnamon-coloured freckles sprinkled across her cheeks, and rubbed across her mouth before his lips parted hers and his tongue glided inside. He slid a hand through silky red tresses to cup her nape, gently holding her in place while he explored her mouth. Her fingers clenched in his hair while she pressed closer.
There was a soft tapping sound. Draco's eyes snapped open to see two identical faces pressed against the window, staring in. Their expressions were disbelieving and resigned at the same time.
Ginny's sweet, drowsy look changed to alarm. One of the twins raised his hand in a half-hearted wave. Closing her eyes, his girl groaned, "Oh, Merlin!"
His thought exactly.
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A/N: I have to thank ElspethBates who reviewed 'Sixteen Candles' and imagined Fred and George peeking in the window to see Draco kissing Ginny! Very inspiring mental image that was. The sonnet Draco quoted was number 88. Luna's dream was inspired by Grimm Fairy Tales and way too many Regency Romances, Peter Pan saying 'Oh the cleverness of me' and Mercedes in The Count of Monte Cristo telling Edmond that she'd never removed the silk thread 'ring' that she'd used for a substitute engagement ring. (Did anyone else wonder why it hadn't rotted in sixteen years? LOL). Hook and Trelawney…was anyone surprised? Yes, I did enjoy making it a crocodile guardian who got his hand. I promise it doesn't come after him at Hogwarts, ticking…:D
If anyone wants something to read while waiting for the next chapter to post, they could always read the Fred & Angelina one shot Halloween Treat or the George & Alicia story Christmas Sweet