Chapter Twelve: The Goal is Revealed

"Come with me, Miss Weasley," said Voldemort.

Ginny's legs started to follow before she could stop them.

"She's not going anywhere!" shouted Ron. He ran forward and grabbed Ginny's arm to stop her.

"Crucio!" Voldemort shouted.

Ron fell to the ground, screaming in pain.

"I have need of Miss Weasley's assistance in a certain matter," said Voldemort over Ron's cries. "If she will not come willingly, I have other means at my disposal..." He let the threat hang.

"I'll come," said Ginny. She was aiming for quiet bravery, but doubted that she'd pulled it off.

"Ginny--" said Harry.

"Don't worry."

"But--" said Fred.

"You can't--" said George.

"You don't know what he--" started Harry.

She waved them silent. "Like he said, he has other means. You stay here and look after Ron."

Voldemort had ended the curse with Ginny's acceptance, and Ron was now shaking on the ground.

"I'll see you when I get back," Ginny said confidently.

Voldemort ushered her out of the cell. "You are smarter than your associates," he commented.

She stayed silent. She remembered how persuasive Tom had been, and this was the same person, even if he didn't look it.

"They believe that fighting bravely and dying will always result in the best outcome. Foolish Gryffindors," he said, his voice tinged with a sigh of sadness. They walked up a narrow flight of stone steps and emerged in a comfortable, warm drawing room.

"First, let us find you a change of clothes," said Voldemort. "Elf!" he commanded, and a small, scared house-elf wearing a battered pillowcase came scrambling up.

"Yes, M-m-master?" it stammered.

"Bring Miss Weasley some clothes from Narcissa's pile of cast-offs."

The elf nodded and scampered away as quickly as it could. It returned almost immediately with an overlarge skirt and a rather nice cloak. She pulled them on and sat down at the chair Voldemort was holding out for her.

"Would you like something to eat, Miss Weasley--may I call you Ginevra? Ginny?"

"Ginny's fine." It didn't matter what Voldemort called her.

"Tea, Ginny?"

She nodded again. She was starving, and tired--it must be somewhere in the early hours of the morning, she realized. And if she wound up having to do anything more than just sit and feel miserable, she'd need her strength. She figured that if he wanted to kill her, he certainly had easier ways than poisoning the tea.

He clapped his hands, and a sumptuous service appeared in front of them, with steaming mugs of hot tea, buttery scones, dainty cookies and cakes, and even--Ginny blinked--chicken-apple sausages.

She took a bit of everything and dug in.

Voldemort watched her with amusement.

"Now, Ginny, while you recover your strength, I will explain to you your role in our endeavor. You have a unique bond with our friend Mr. Potter. Not only did he save your life in the Chamber of Secrets--you must tell me your experience, one of these days--but you saved his life. You managed to convince him of your reality when he was caught in my Coma Spell. That takes innate magical power, which you possess in abundance, as well as his trust. He may not love you the way you love him, but he feels strongly for you."

Ginny swallowed a piece of sausage. "And what does that have to do with your plans?" she asked.

"A very good question, Ginny. Do you know why your home is called The Burrow?"

A bit suprised, Ginny started, "Well, it originally was completely underground. 'Strong as a badger's lair,' Granpaw would say."

"That is the story I have heard as well. Tell me, what is the symbol of Hufflepuff House?"

"A badger...I know my father was in Hufflepuff, as was his dad."

"The Weasleys have historically been Hufflepuffs, until your generation, Ginny. Your brother Bill was the first Weasley to be admitted to House Gryffindor. Your mother was in Gryffindor, yes," he added as Ginny began to protest, "but she was not a Weasley at the time."

Ginny swallowed some tea. "So what are you saying, then?"

"Your ancestry can be traced back to Hufflepuff, Ginny. You're the Heir of Hufflepuff, as I was the Heir of Slytherin. And, as everyone knows or has guessed, Harry is the Heir of Gryffindor. Yes, I heard about him pulling the sword out of the hat--quite a trick. And this means, Ginny, that we lack only the Heir of Ravenclaw to make a complete set. Do you know how much power all four Heirs would have together, Ginny?"

She shook her head.

"Beyond belief, Ginny." Voldemort gestured dramatically. "They'd have the power to remove the ghosts at Hogwarts--not just Banish, but to lay them to rest. They could rearrange the staircase patterns, confine all portraits to their frames. They could completely change Hogwarts' character."

"You want to take over the school."

"Not as such, Ginny, not as such. I want to improve it, to clear Slytherin House's name, which has for so long been sullied."

By you and your kind, Ginny thought angrily, but didn't voice it. Instead she said, "Wouldn't improving it mean getting rid of all the Muggle-borns?"

"Not necessarily--look at Miss Granger. Quite a powerful, clever witch. If she'd been pureblood, she might have been sorted into Ravenclaw or even Slytherin. Not all Muggle-borns are a bad influence, and Hogwarts is the safest place for them, after all. Left in the Muggle world without proper training... Who knows? They wind up in crazy houses and hospitals, or simply commit suicide in their adolescence to escape the pressures of 'being normal.'" He sighed dramatically.

"Now, as to your part. What I want you to do, Ginny, is simply find the Heir of Ravenclaw. Do not expect that person to be in Ravenclaw House--after all, you are not in Hufflepuff, are you? Look through the thick geneology tomes I know are on the third shelf from the back in the library."

"And what if I refuse?" asked Ginny, trying to simply sound curious.

"Well, then I shall tell my good friend Lucius that his son Draco shall have to do the work, and we know how much dear Draco wishes to stay out of the library--such an active boy, excellent at duelling..." he said, gazing off into the distance. "Of course, if I assign this work to Draco, he will be most unhappy with you..."

Ginny nodded. How bad would it be for her to simply find this person? She wasn't being told to hurt anyone, but she could see that Voldemort had big plans, and she felt a twinge--more of a slam--of guilt at even being slightly involved. If she were Harry, she'd probably refuse and be killed.

"I'll find them." Coward.

"Good. Send an owl to Lucius when you have done so; he will know how to contact me. And"--he bored holes through her eyes with his gaze--"I trust you will be discreet, Ginevra Weasley. I shall be most displeased with you if certain parties learn of your task. To assure this--" He pulled out his wand.

She flinched.

A spate of Latin that she didn't catch enveloped the both of them in deep purple light. "The Secret-Binding prevents you from telling anyone about your research. It's like an Obliviate in a way. Quite handy. I trust you will not need to be bound by it, though?"

Ginny nodded, swallowing.

Ginny was returned to the cell by a silent Death Eater wearing a hood, and found that Fred and George were missing.

"Where'd they go?" she asked.

"Death Eaters took them away, saying they had a few questions for them..." said Hermione worriedly.

"But Fred and George don't know anything, do they?"

"I think they're working for Dumbledore," said Harry seriously. "I think they know more than they let on."

"How do you mean?" asked Ginny.

"I'm not sure," said Harry. "I think it's to do with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, though, since they're really good at doing magic in strange ways... What did he want with you, anyway? You're not hurt?"

"No, I'm fine. We had tea--seriously, Ron!" she said, since Ron looked like he either wanted to laugh hysterically or have a fit of apoplexy. "I can't talk about what we said, though."

"Why not?"

"Do you honestly think Voldemort can't hear what's going on in this cell, Ron?" asked Hermione testily. Ginny silently thanked her for thinking up that possibility.

"Oh, right."

They slept uneasily on the floor, a few blankets having been tossed at them sometime later.

Fred and George weren't back when they awoke, which, according to Harry's new wristwatch, a Christmas gift from Ron, was around noon.

"I hope they're okay," said Ron nervously.

"Me, too," echoed Hermione.

"They're at The Burrow," said Lucius Malfoy, who was standing outside their cell. "I must return you all to that--ah--dwelling."

When they got back to The Burrow, Mrs. Weasley fussed over all of them.

"Oh, my babies, my poor babies!" she cried, trying to hug all of them at once--even Harry and Hermione. She bustled around making tea and managed to resuscitate some old bread.

"What happened?" asked Arthur urgently. "Amos' meeting was dragged out until almost midnight, and then someone--I can't remember who--insisted that we stay the night. We assumed that you would be all right... and where's Percy?"

It took half an hour for the story to be told--since each person had their own version of events. Ginny left out the part about Malfoy, causing more than a few raised eyebrows. Not in front of her dad. She'd tell Mum. Later.

It turned out that Fred and George had been put under Veritaserum and asked about their connection with Dumbledore, which they had managed not to tell. "Snape's been working with us," is all they said, when Ron asked how they'd gone against Veritaserum.

"Ooh, has he been making you immune to it?" asked Hermione, and earned a grin from George.

"Not telling," he said, but he winked.

Ginny told them that she'd been asked to do something for Voldemort, but she couldn't talk about it--"It's just library research, honestly," she said.

"Ginny, this house is safe for you to speak in," said Mr. Weasley.

Ginny shook her head.

"Well, I'll let Dumbledore know that you had a conversation with Voldemort, then. Maybe he'll get you to talk." Her father shot her one last worried look, then went on. "Anyway, we have a problem with Percy, now, if he's following Fudge blindly. I don't want any of you to tell him anything important when you owl him, but don't let him get suspicious!"

Returning to Hogwarts, a school full of happy, active children, was too much for Ginny. She still wasn't over what Malfoy had done; she didn't think she'd ever be over it. Her mother had comforted her, told her not to worry about it, it wasn't her fault, and suggested she keep herself busy for a while.

So she stayed busy in the library, looking up the different families. She managed to convince McGonagall to give her a list of every student in the school, saying it was for a personal research project, which it was, really, and McGonagall could never refuse anything to a top student. So that, plus her homework, and the fact that Harry was happily back on the Quidditch team, kept her mind off other things.

Like Cho.

Cho Chang, who had been lurking around alone ever since term began. Cho, who was suddenly in the library whenever Ginny was. Cho, who had been apparently, according to Ron, been lingering around Gryffindor fifth-year classes, and who had stopped talking to Hermione in Arithmancy.

And Malfoy.

Malfoy leered at her whenever he saw her, making rude motions with his pelvis when teachers weren't watching. He walked down the corridor with his arm around Pansy Parkinson--ten to one they were shagging--and rumor had it they'd been caught doing something on Snape's office desk, and the stain was still there. Rumor also had it that Malfoy had had every fifth-year in Slytherin and was working on the Ravenclaws.

Ginny couldn't stand him.

Her roommates were wonderful. They saw that she needed space and gave it to her without question. They took her sharpness in turn, knowing she'd apologize later.

Just a few weeks into term, Harry came into the library. Girls giggled as he approached her, and Cho glared in their general direction.

"Hi, Ginny," he said softly. "Can I talk?"

"Sure," she said, gathering up her books. "Just let me give these to Madam Pince, they're library use only."

She took the books over to the strict librarian, requested they be held for her overnight, rolled her parchment, tied it neatly, and followed him out of the library.

"What is it?" she asked, when they'd reached the common room. It was very noisy, it being the night before a Quidditch match (Gryffindor versus Slytherin, the most competitive match of the whole tournament), and Fred and George had nicked some food from the kitchens and some butterbeer from Hogsmeade. In short, everyone was partying and no-one was paying attention to anyone else. They found some seats in a far corner.

Harry opened his mouth to speak.

"Hey, Harry! Want some food?" Fred had spotted them and came their way with a plate of sandwiches and some bottles of butterbeer. "Hi, Ginny, haven't seen you in a while."

"Oh, I've just been busy with schoolwork," she said. But she took some food and a drink, and they managed to get Fred off them without too much trouble.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" Ginny asked, sipping her butterbeer.

"I wanted to ask you how you were holding up. I haven't seen much of you, and I've--well, I worry about you," he said quietly, not looking at her.

"That's sweet, Harry," she said, "but I'm fine."

He snorted softly. "No you're not."

"What?" This was making her angry. "I've been busy with schoolwork lately, I haven't even thought about it."

"That's what worries me. You haven't been to anyone to talk about it, have you."

"Well, I talked to Mum, and she told me to keep myself busy--"

"But you've just been holing it up inside you."

She knew he was right, but she really didn't want to talk about it. "Harry, everyone is here right now, it's not a good time--"

"It never will be, Ginny."

She sighed. "What do you want to know?"

"I want to know what you think about, whether you feel like you can go on with your life after all this--I want to make sure you're happy."

"Happy?" she asked incredulously. "You think I can be happy after what Malfoy--that scum--did?"

"Yes, I think you can. No, really, Ginny!" he exclaimed as she shook her head and got up to leave. "I know you're upset right now, I know that everything feels wrong--but let me help you--"

"The only way you can help me, Harry Potter, is by leaving me alone."

But he grabbed the sleeve of her robe and held her there. She struggled briefly, but he wouldn't let go.

"Talk," he said gently. "Sit down, and talk to me. I'm not going to leave you alone until I know that you're okay."

She stood silently for a moment, then sat down and looked away from him, gathering her thoughts.

"You know, what really bothers me is that it had to be Malfoy," she said abruptly.

Harry didn't say anything. Ginny supposed there wasn't anything to be said to that, and continued. "It doesn't really bother me that I'm not a virgin anymore, but that it was Malfoy..." She took a deep breath. Should she say it? "...and not you."

"Me?" Harry said squeakily. He looked around to make sure no one was watching them--the entire common room was preoccupied with George giving Trevor polka-dots.

"You, Harry Potter." Ginny felt tears building. "After we started--you know, getting physical--I would dream about our first time together, little fantasies about the Quidditch pitch, or you as Head Boy with your own room..." Ginny almost couldn't believe she was finally saying this to Harry..

Harry was staring at her. "You really wanted to--to--do that with me?" he asked incredulously.

"Why are you so surprised? Half the girls in school, and probably some of the guys, want to. You're--well, you're famous Harry Potter and all that." She lowered her voice. "And you're a really nice guy."

"Oh," he said, swallowing. "But you--you wanted--wanted me--like--like that?"

"Yes!" Ginny wanted to scream. Guys were so dense. There was nothing for it. "I love you, Harry."

"Oh."

That wasn't exactly the answer she'd wanted to hear. Her heart sank.

"Ginny--I know what you want me to say, but--but I don't know if it would be true--I feel really protective of you, you know that--and you're--well, you are really pretty, and really nice, and smart, and all that--but I don't want to say that until I know it, since it would hurt you if it weren't true."

"Oh." She paused. "What about Cho?"

Harry thought for a minute. "If what Malfoy said is true--that she's spreading rumors around the school, then I don't think I could even be friends with her. But I don't know that."

Ginny didn't find it at all hard to believe, especially considering Cho's recent behavior. "Do you know what she said about me, in the Great Hall, when everyone heard that I was going in to try and wake you up?"

"No..."

"She said that the only reason it was me was because you and I were sleeping together, and that you were only sleeping with me because I was easy."

"She didn't!"

"Yes, she did."

"And she was always so nice to me..."

"Well, she wasn't nice to me. She can be nice, Harry, but she's really quick to judge."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Positive," said Ginny. "Ask Hermione how Cho's been acting in Arithmancy."

"Why is Hermione in Cho's Arithmancy class? They're in different years."

"Hermione skipped a year of it--she went from third year Arithmancy to fifth year," Ginny explained patiently. "Didn't you know?"

"No. Figures, I guess. So, what has Cho been doing?"

"She stopped talking to Hermione, and they used to be study partners, you know. Cho's been following me to the library, and I even heard her asking Madam Pince what books I'd been looking at! And haven't you noticed her lingering outside your classes?"

"Actually, I have been seeing more of her than usual, but I thought it was just a fluke."

"No, I think she's tailing us."

"But why?"

"Search me. But I'll bet she's not up to any good."