A/N: Thank you everyone who reviewed!!!
Disclaimer: Do I look like JK Rowling to you? I didn't think so. DON'T SUE ME for the love of god – I have no money anyway.
Pairing: H/D
Chapter 20: A Fox in the Henhouse
Bill had never been so angry before in his entire life. His family – no, his former family – how could they – what were they – how in the bloody freaking nine blazes does a nice, normal, sane family become mentally related to – to – Fudge! Bill ground his teeth together and forced his anger down. It wouldn't do to blow up and snap at the Headmaster.
He came to a stop in front of the expressionless old wizard; the sky blues eyes were twinkling at him – but that told Bill nothing useful. The tall redhead took a deep breath and let it out slowly, settling himself firmly on the other side of the Head Table with the air of someone who was bound and determined to get his way.
"Headmaster Dumbledore," Bill said politely, his calm tone completely opposite of his earlier ranting. Albus inclined his head slowly in response.
"Mr. W – ah, well, Bill," the Headmaster frowned briefly at his own stumble. The former Weasley flashed him a quick, reassuring smile.
"Just call me Bill for now, sir, if you will," the curse-breaker said cheerily. Bill really couldn't find it in himself to be sorry for what he'd done; even if his former family finally came to their senses – the damage they had already wrought on Ginny was far too much to excuse. And, Bill reflected in a small corner of his mind, it really was bad for business…the Goblins held oath-breakers and their families in the lowest esteems. Bill knew they would understand his new circumstances – they would even more than likely give him a raise! The Headmaster smiled back at the young man in front of him.
"Well. Bill. Quite an entrance you made," Albus folded his hands calmly and peered over the top of his glasses at the younger wizard. Bill blushed and looked down at his feet; the older wizard had the strange power of turning people back into stuttering adolescents who had stayed up far past curfew and were caught out late by the man himself. Bill forced himself to look up, scolding himself that he wasn't twelve years old anymore, thank you very much. He took a deep breath and shrugged slightly.
"Ah, well. Yes, that. Couldn't be helped really. Needed to be done," he answered truthfully. Severus was staring at him as though he'd grown a second head – but at least it isn't the glare of death, he thought positively. There's hope yet.
"Yes, I see," Dumbledore said quietly, bringing a hand up to stroke his beard. "Are you planning on staying for a while, my boy?" Bill perked up, shifting on his feet. He'd been hoping the Headmaster would ask him that.
"Well, if that would be alright with you, sir. I – I would like to stay long enough to talk to Ginny and well, sort some things out, if you don't mind," Bill fidgeted slightly, casting a glance over his shoulder to where Ginny was sitting with the rest of the Slytherin House. The Headmaster followed his gaze and his face softened.
"I think our DADA instructor would love to have a chance to speak with you, and perhaps have some hands on demonstrations of what you do for a living in class. I'll talk to Professor Montevay later, and we'll work something out." Albus winked at the young man briefly before waving him away towards his sister. Bill's face lit up into a brilliant smile that he flashed at all the teachers – including Snape, before bolting for the table full of quietly watching students.
Ginny stood as Bill approached, a strange expression on her face. "Bill –," she said with a catch in her voice. Bill merely closed the distance between them and scooped her up into a tight hug, ignoring the stares coming from the rest of the student body. Ginny clung to her older brother, her tears spilling over her eyelids, creating shiny tracks on her skin.
"Ginny Ginny Ginny," Bill murmured, swaying as he hugged her. "You're my sister, you'll always be my sister, no matter what," he whispered fiercely into her ear. Ginny let out a small sob and clung tighter to the tall frame. A discrete cough from beside them made Bill turn his head slightly – but not let go of the small form in his arms.
Draco inclined his head slightly to the door, his eyes cutting to the Gryffindor table where Ron and the twins were watching the reunion between the two ex-Weasleys with hate in their eyes. Bill glanced over to them, an unpleasant sneer crossing his face before nodding briskly.
"C'mon Gin, lets get out of here." He let go of her reluctantly, but kept one arm around her thin shoulders. Ginny quickly wiped her eyes and nodded, following him out of the Hall. Draco and Harry looked at each other once before swiftly getting up and following them out. They weren't about to allow anyone disrupt the reunion between the two redheads. The two Slytherins caught up to the pair just outside of the Great Hall entrance and quickly ushered them into an unused classroom just down the hall. They stationed themselves in an alcove just outside the door, making sure to watch for anyone who looked ready to interrupt.
Inside, Bill swept Ginny into another hug, one hand coming up to pet her hair as the petite redhead finally let herself sob. The young witch clung to her brother, gasping for breath as tears and snot ran down her face – she knew she was going to look a mess when she was done, but she didn't care; Bill was there, was holding her, telling her that she was his family and no one, no one could ever, ever change that. It was a balm to her frazzled nerves, the cure for the heartache that her once-parents had inflicted on her. Bill was there.
Sometime later Ginny finally pulled away, wiping at her face with her sleeve. Pansy would have my head if she saw me doing this, a small, dry voice commented in the back of her mind. She told it to shush. Bill drew back slightly and patted at his pockets, a small frown coming over his face as he searched for something. He finally pulled out a crumpled handkerchief and handed it to her with a small smile. She took it gratefully and mopped up her face as best she was able, moving over to the windows and taking a seat near them. Bill followed her over and sat down next to her. Ginny looked down at her hands suddenly, the reality of what Bill had just done finally hitting her.
"You – you disowned yourself," she blurted, looking up into his face. He nodded solemnly.
"Ginny – you're my sister. You did what was right, you stood up for what you believed in. You followed your heart – there's no shame in that, only honor. You did yourself proud, really. It took courage, heart and a great deal of strength to do what you did, and if all those bastards can't see that – well, then hang 'em. They don't deserve you. As for Mum and Dad," Bill broke off and looked out the window briefly. "What they've done is unforgivable. Really. I meant it when I said I was ashamed to be a part of that family…they broke every oath of family, trust and decency when they publicly disowned you, Ginny." He shifted forward slightly and took up her hands in his, squeezing them tightly.
"That spell, Ginny, was only, only supposed to be used on those family members who had done something incredibly horrible – like mass murdering thousands, or committing vile acts, such as pedophilia, or incest. They had no right, no right to perform that ritual; you'd given no cause for it to be performed. When I first got Mum's letter, I couldn't believe it. So I checked. Gringotts has an extensive library, as well as a very rare collection of historical records. I checked Gin. Of course they could still perform it, but they've twisted them meaning of it something fierce – I'm surprised none of the older pureblood families haven't raised a stink yet. Or maybe they have and I've just missed it, I dunno. And another thing, the goblins well," he broke off with a small smirk, "they were anything but happy about the scandal. They prefer their employees scandal free, thank you very much. So don't you worry about me." Ginny smiled briefly at Bill's attempt at a joke, the small humor of it breaking the tension in the room. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
"But – are you sure, really sure, Bill?" She looked up at him carefully, still not quite believing that Bill had really thought through his plan. Bill's face clearly showed his resolve.
"Yes, Gin. It was my choice, don't think even for a moment that you somehow made me do this in any way." Ginny looked down guiltily – it had crossed her mind that Bill had only disowned himself out of guilt for what the family had done to her. He reached up and tilted her chin up so that she was looking him in the eye. "I love you Ginny. I always will, no matter what. I chose to disown myself. I chose to stay at your side – and I will never leave." Bill's quiet promise brought more tears to the small redhead's eyes and she blinked quickly, a few fresh tears escaping and streaking down her face. Bill brushed them away gently and drew her back into a hug, and the two of them sat there in the quiet room, not saying anything else for a long while – just enjoying the solidarity of each other's presence.
*_*_*
Neville sat in the Slytherin common room, his herbology textbook open on his lap. He needed to read the next chapter for the upcoming test; he wanted to do well on it – but his mind kept wandering away from the book in front of him and to a particular letter that was sitting in a drawer of his desk.
Like Ginny, Neville had written home to tell his Gran about what had happened at the school and why he had chosen to petition to change Houses. His Gran had been – surprised, to say the least, by his decision, but she had supported him fully. She had also outlined, in no uncertain terms, that she now expected his Potions grades to improve dramatically, seeing as his Head of House was the resident Potions Master. His Gran wanted him to do well in school, and he always tried his best for her – even if it meant private lessons with the man that had tormented him for years. Well, at least now he won't be taking points off for me simply breathing near him; Neville tried to find something positive about the set up, but it was somewhat difficult.
His Gran wasn't the most – expressive person when it came to affection, he knew, but she loved him deeply, and that was all that mattered. Thank goodness she's not like Mrs. Weasley, Neville fiddled with the edge of his text book, I don't know where I'd go if Gran kicked me out. Perhaps to Cousin Merle's, but he lives in Germany. And then I'd have to go to Durmstrang, the sandy haired boy shivered at the thought of going to the remote, icy school. It would've been awful to have to switch schools – and not to mention dangerous; it was pretty much known that the German school was where all of the Death Eater children had been sent that year. He snorted abruptly. No, Durmstrang definitely wouldn't have been the place for me.
He sighed and closed the book – he wasn't going to get any studying done. Instead he stared into the fireplace, letting his eyes trace the patterns that the flames created, letting his mind wander. He had one intense moment of homesickness after thinking about his grandmother – for one moment all he wanted was to be at home, in his Gran's kitchen, having a cup of her bitter tea and a plateful of her delicious, warm scones. He could all but smell the delicate scent of the tea and feel the heat rising from the treats in front of him. The vision was so clear he had to close his eyes for a moment – enough of this, he thought firmly. This will only serve to make you sad – concentrate on something happy. Plan something, do something constructive instead of wish for impossible things, it was advise his Gran had said to him many, many times in the past and he used it now to push the wash of homesickness away.
Maybe Harry and Ginny would like to come home with me this Christmas, the thought suddenly came to him. He opened his eyes abruptly and frowned, catching his lower lip between his teeth. Harry was his friend – even more now from what Gryffindor House had done to all of them. Neville had been surprised at how much he hadn't known about the Boy-Who-Lived; or rather, the boy who existed under the legend's surface.
The Harry he now knew was quiet, given to long silences and reflection. Before, Harry had always been part of the untouchable trio; the sound of Ron and Harry arguing about Quidditch had been a commonplace thing, along with Hermione's interjections of how dangerous and potentially lethal the game could be. The three always seemed to be in motion, creating some kind of noise that guaranteed to catch people's attention. Their friendship had always seemed so solid, so deep – even when they had a row, it seemed impossible that they could ever stay mad at each other forever. Harry's bright, mischievous, happy smiles were a permanent fixture on him – he'd always seemed to fit the image of Gryffindor's golden boy to a tee.
Neville had to wonder if this other side of Harry was something new or if it had been there all along, and the dark haired boy had just been playing along with all of the expectations that had been heaped up onto his shoulders from the moment he reentered the wizarding world. Expectations to be perfect, to be the hero. To never mess up, to know the answers ahead of time. To never be sad, or selfish, or moody; to be the absolute image of a good and pure person at all times. That must have been hard, Neville made a face, living up to all the ideals that people had of you, knowing that the world would rip you apart if you so much as wavered from their perfect image of you.
He knew he couldn't have done it – he hated being put on the spot, as his performance in Potions went to show. As far as I know he's always spent Christmas here, at Hogwarts. I'd have to ask Gran, but I think she'd allow them both to visit for a while. And as for protection – well, Gran is one of the most paranoid people I know, surely the number of protection spells on the manor house would be enough to allow Harry to visit for a short while. And if not, then Gran could easily 'talk' the Headmaster into, eh, placing a few more on the house. Neville's face broke into a brief smile when he thought about his Gran's commanding, no nonsense attitude. What she wanted, she got, and that was the plain truth. He couldn't imagine the Headmaster being able to say no.
A noise from the hallway leading to the boy's side of the dorm had Neville looking up. Blaise was just exiting the shadows, heading towards the couches where Neville sat. The sandy haired boy felt his stomach lurch slightly when he caught sight of the other boy – there was just something about Blaise that made him feel – well, partly uncomfortable, partly nervous, as well as breathless, lightheaded and infinity clumsy. A right mess, that's for sure. Blaise was a complicated creature to Neville, he never talked down to him, nor teased him about the ex-Gryffindor's clumsiness; rather, the sable haired boy paid attention to the things Neville had to say, seriously considered his opinions and discussed things with him. It was somewhat unnerving for Neville, having always been the one people mostly ignored in Gryffindor Tower.
"Hello Neville," Blaise sank into the cushion next to the other boy. Neville nodded his greeting, pulling his eyes away from the other boy and returning them to the fireplace. "What are you studying?"
"Well, I was trying to study herbology, but I can't really seem to concentrate right now." Neville shrugged slightly and ran a nervous hand over the cover of his textbook. Blaise shifted on the cushion next to him, turning to face him fully.
"Care to go for a walk with me? It might clear your head." The other boy tilted his head at Neville, a small smile flitting across his face. Neville whipped his head around, not sure if he'd heard what Blaise had said right. It had almost sounded as if he had…asked him out. In a strange, mostly platonic, but very Slytherin way. Blaise's face gave no hints though, and finally Neville just nodded hesitantly, a strange feeling spreading through him when the other's boy's face broke into a large, growing smile that warmed his eyes.
"S – sure. Just let me put his away," Neville could have kicked himself for stuttering. He hated his stutter with a passion, but he couldn't seem to break the habit, especially when he was nervous. Blaise nodded and Neville hauled himself out of the couch – I swear that thing's going to eat me alive one of these days. Neville laughed quietly to himself as he hurried to his room, the last thing he had expected from the Slytherin common room was a comfy couch that invited slouching and lounging around.
*_*_*_*_*_*
Sirius paced along the room, his long legs eating up the meager distance. Five paces, turn, stop, look out the window. Spin, five paces back, stare at Moony for a moment. Stop. Turn around. Repeat. The pacing reminded him of his cell in Azkaban, the awful monotonous of it, and strangely, the almost comfort of it. The distance between his cell walls had never changed, never lied, were always a set distance away from each other. The unwavering dimensions had given him a small piece of sanity in the nightmare that had been his imprisonment.
"Sirius, please. Stop pacing before you drive yourself – and me – mad," Remus's tired voice came from the couch were the werewolf was sitting. The ex-convict paused in his cycle, considering for a moment to keep on with his pacing, just to drive Moony up the wall a little more, before mentally kicking himself in the head. Sure he was irritated and antsy, but he had no right to take it out on the other man.
"Sorry," Sirius muttered, crossing the room and throwing himself down into a chair, paying no mind to the welfare of the furniture. He spread his legs out in front of him and stared at the scuffed toes of his boots. God how he hated waiting!
"When did Harry say he'd meet us?" Sirius interrupted Remus from his reading. The graying man looked up at Sirius for a moment before returning to his novel.
"After dinner," the other man said quietly, ignoring the fact that Sirius had already asked Remus the exact same question about a hundred times already and that Sirius had been there when Remus had talked to Harry in the first place. Sirius sighed heavily and began drumming his fingers on the fabric of the couch with one hand, while the other was used to prop up his head.
"So, what are you reading now?" Sirius asked after a minute of silence. Remus's looked up at him briefly before sighing and closing his book with a snap.
"The exact same thing I've been reading for two hours. Sirius, why don't you transform into Padfoot and go running somewhere? It'll help you clear your head, and god knows it'll save my sanity." Remus raised an eyebrow at the other man.
Sirius snorted. "Well, that would – wait. Bugger. Ron and Hermione know who Padfoot really is. Blast," the other wizard spat. Remus rolled his eyes at him.
"So, use your nose and stay away from them, it's not that hard you know," Remus pointed at the door. "Go, now, before I have to tell Harry that I ended up having to kill his godfather because he was driving me nuts." Sirius stuck his tongue out at the other man, but bounded to his feet. He changed and was out the door in a flash, nose poised and ready, easily staying away from students and teachers alike.
As he charged out the door, bounding away for the Forbidden Forest, he missed the small, slinking form making its way for one of the many entrances of Hogwarts.
*_*_*_*_*
Lavender gathered her robe around herself – the weather had turned cold, and she had forgotten to put on a jumper before heading down to one of the many small side doors of Hogwarts. She jiggled, trying to keep herself warm that way – it didn't really work. She was about to head back to the much warmer hallway when she caught sight of a small brown form making its way to her. Her movement stilled completely for a moment, her eyes watching the approaching form carefully. It was him.
As the fox drew closer to her, its body shimmered and where the fox had been standing, a man appeared. He was a small, nondescript man, with brown hair and brown eyes. His features neither stood out, or where hideously ugly; he was perfectly and completely average. The type of man that people's gazes slide over and no one ever really notices – which was exactly what he wanted. He sidled closer to the girl, his eyes flicking around the surroundings, wary for any sign of danger.
"You have a message?" his voice was quiet and timid, pale and forgettable just like the rest of him. Lavender nodded and handed him several scrolls. He took them quickly, shrunk them and slipped them into a pouch on his belt.
"Any orders for me?" Lavender asked breathlessly. She smiled up at the man, her pulse racing in her throat. The man nodded slowly.
"You are to continue to foster the discontent, fear and hate of the Boy in the school. You'll get more instructions later when the Dark Lord decides that his newest pets are sufficiently under control and that he can order them to do his bidding without any undue problems. Keep your ears open and keep reporting; we need to specifically know the Boy's routine, where he goes most often and when. I'll be back next week for your first observations." Lavender nodded rapidly, her hands twisting in her robes.
"Will the Dark Lord be pleased?" she asked hopefully, desperately. A small, strange smile crossed the man's face.
"The Dark Lord will be pleased. I must go." The conversation was over. He turned and the fox sprung away from the shadows, heading towards the Forbidden Forest at an all out run. Lavender watched him go with burning eyes; she wanted, more than anything, to make the Dark Lord pleased. Then, maybe then he'll grant my request. I'll be a real seer then – no one will laugh at me, or roll their eyes because they don't believe me. When the Dark Lord wins the war, they'll be lined up to get their fortunes read by me – by the hundreds, the thousands. I'll be someone important, someone who appreciates their gift of the Sight, unlike other people I could name. She sneered.
Bitterness washed across Lavender's face, causing her normally pretty face to become distorted and frightening. She hated the fact that Harry was the one who got visions – it just wasn't fair. She was the one that paid attention in Divination, she was the one who took Professor Trelawney seriously. Harry shouldn't be the one with the visions, Harry shouldn't be the one gifted with the Sight. She should have that power – that ability. And when she did get it – then, then she'd show them all. She wouldn't whimper about it like Harry did, she wouldn't suck sympathy from people because of the 'pain' she was in. She'd use her knowledge instead of whine about it – she'd appreciate the gift that the Sight was.
She took a deep breath, trying to force her face back into a calm mask. She had to be calm, she had a job to do. She wouldn't fail her Lord, she wouldn't. She nodded once to herself firmly, spun on her heel and walked back into the warmth of the school, a slow-burning feeling of purpose deep inside her. She'd make sure the Dark Lord's orders were carried out, come hell or high water.
End chapter 20
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Athenakitty: Hagrid will hear about the nonsense – and be pissed. Very pissed. There is no chance in hell that Gryffindor will win the Quidditch cup =) Yes and no about Harry's sleeping patterns. Bill will get adopted into the same family as Ginny =) Thank you for another absolutely awesome review!!!!
Silvrei: Yes, Bill is of age to adopt Ginny – but he wont. They are going to be adopted into the same family though.
Lady Ktulu: Sirius hasn't been pardoned yet. Don't fear, it will all work out for Ginny and Bill. Yes this is a D/H fic…it's just progressing slowly. Thanks for the wonderful review!
Rhiannon: Thank you for the awesome review, as well as bringing up several points I know I haven't touched on just yet. Thanks for reminding me =) Dumbledore is waiving the fee for Ginny this year – although expect to hear a stink about it. And hopefully this chapter answered your question about Bill.
Arianrhod: The Charlie muse is about to be drug kicking and screaming over to the computer because it's damn near time for him to get into the story //mutters about silly muses// Anyhoo, yes Lucius will have just oodles of fun when owning the Prophet =) rar! Staying mum about Lavender. And thank you for joining the Yahoo!group =)
Hyperbole: He lives. I am in denial. I don't care. =) Glad you're still enjoying the fic!
Ped: Yes, Harry will end up having tell his Housemates about
why he's hanging onto some old sets of clothes. Neville's gran's reaction incoming. And more Pansy/Milli/Ginny plotting for the boys =) Thanks for
the wonderful review!
JACKIE: I'm glad you like the fic (I know the summery rather sucks, I'm trying
to reword it but am failing, alas).
Heard about the story? Where?
/blinks with confusion/
Jade Maxwell: thank you for the absolutely amazing review! Yes, there is some looseness in the plot, I know. I'm attempting to fix it, so we'll see what happens. Again, thank you for reviewing!
Usagi Serenity Yui Cosmos: Bill's sticking around for a bit. Charlie's going to make an entrance soon – even if I have to drag him by the hair kicking and screaming. Don't worry – computers are all strange, mystical machines to me; all I really know is point and click, isn't that sad =)