Chapter 7
Ginny's moments of peace and quiet seemed to always take place at the strangest times, when she least expected them and thus she could never find the appropriate time to savour them fully. It seemed to be the curse of her existence, her inability to find peace when she wanted or needed it, and Calm seemed to always creep up on her and then slink off before she fully comprehended its embrace. This time, it sneaked upon her as she was hurrying to her Prefect's meeting from her Muggle Studies class. For one sinfully clandestine moment there was total silence and stillness. Even the eternal breeze that drafted through the castle seemed to have stopped, and the hallway felt truly empty, devoid of the magic that crackled finely through it. Ginny stopped, embarrassed by her hurry and movement. Fleetingly, her imagination cast her as an immobile relic, a secret among the granite.
Thought stopped and stilled, vision blurred, touch faded and sound muted, until she could feel nothing but the tiredness in her bones and the weariness in her soul. It was fatigue, and sadness, and regret and resignation all welded together, inseparable and crueler in their togetherness than each taken individually. What am I doing to myself? she hadn't asked that question since she had decided to stop pretending about her character. It was peculiar that she should ask it now, when she was so close to getting everything she had ever wanted, when she could feel the enticing call of freedom whispering out her name. Maybe it was the week of insomnia playing tricks on her mind, making doubts that she had long resolved rear their ugly heads in her thoughts again. Maybe it was last night's nightmare, or the general tension stretching in Gryffindor tower ever since Sunday, or the conspicuous looks she had been receiving from Ron, Hermione and Harry over missing breakfast every single day this week.
"I am helping myself," she whispered in the empty hallway, defiant of the silence that forbade all sound and movement. "I'm doing it because if I don't, nobody else will," she added, her hands clenched into fists by her sides.
And just like that, she had destroyed the moment, and it was permissible to move again, to make noise and to forgo the protective cloak of inexistence. The goose pimples on her flesh were the only testimony of her inner turmoil, but Ginny refused to acknowledge their existence. Straightening her back and jutting out her chin she made her way to the dungeons for the weekly Prefect's meeting.
By the time she pushed open the door of the classroom, Ginny was already fifteen minutes late, and the meeting seemed to be in full force. Malfoy's voice was bellowing out their next set of instructions and she tried to be as inconspicuous as possible in her arrival. Exhaustion always put her on edge, and she didn't fancy giving Malfoy another reason to pick away at her frayed nerves. Luck, however, was not with her that Wednesday, and just as she was creeping towards the nearest empty seat, Malfoy halted in the middle of his sentence, allowing a pregnant pause to fill the gap of his next words and giving time for all pairs of eyes in the room to settle firmly on her.
"How sweet that Gryffindor decided to join us today for the meeting," he sneered.
Out of reflex, for Ginny hated being patronized, she straightened her back, narrowed her eyes and glared at everyone around her. She had found out early in her childhood how much she hated being put on the spot. Her hands itched for her wand, and several very colourful hexes were finding their way into her brain. Good, meek, humble, harmless Ginny Weasley, however, did nothing of the sort. The timing of keeping and losing control is the foundation of unpredictability, and a secret weapon to be used sparingly, Tom's voice echoed in her head and she forced herself to breathe in deeply. He was right; she had to play the role a little longer.
"My apologies, Malfoy."
"Why Miss Weasley, there is nothing to apologise for! Please, feel free to grace us with your distinguished presence whenever you feel it is necessary. After all, we are but your humble servants and at the mercy of your great wit and intellect," Malfoy spat poisonously, and a series of snickers rippled through the crowd at his sarcasm.
Ginny knew she should just ignore his insult and take a seat, but her cheeky tongue could not hold in her reply, "Well, since you put it so endearingly, Malfoy, I think I shall take you up on your offer and grace you with my presence this time." Grinning, she headed straight for the front of the classroom and seated herself in his chair. Putting her feet up on the adjacent desk, she continued with a wave of her hand, "Please, continue. I am well seated now."
She could see Malfoy's face turn three different shades of red before he settled on murderous rage, but with so many witnesses around, he did not take the risk of hexing her into oblivion. Ginny knew that she had forced the situation yet again and that given Malfoy's revengeful spirit she would be in for quite a spot of trouble. He had yet to pay her back for her stunt involving his looks, and now she had humiliated him in public yet again. He would surely pay her back twofold for her impertinence. Ginny couldn't wait. As of late, the art of tormenting Malfoy, was one of the few things about Hogwarts that didn't fill her with dread, disgust and rage.
"If you've been reading the Prophet," Malfoy was saying, "you would have seen that the entire Ministry is in a state of uproar due to recent Death Eater activities. Headmaster Dumbledore and Deputy Headmistress McGonagall deemed it necessary, since we are the most talented students of the school, to use our magical knowledge and perform strengthening spells on all the wards, especially dormitories, common rooms and densely populated areas. I have been given a list with the kinds of wards that are currently in place and the spells that are required to strengthen them. We will be splitting off into groups…" Ginny tuned his voice out, well aware of the next sentences that would be rolling off his lips.
From her place in his chair, she surveyed the group of prefects, their eyes wide with apprehension and literally swallowing down every one of Malfoy's words. Ginny was unsurprised when she noticed that out of their tiny group of thirty, Ron and Hermione were absent. They, together with Harry, had been whispering to themselves in a corner of the common room ever since last Tuesday, and she had heard Creevey relate to Neville that they were working on Order business, with special permission from Dumbledore. Hermione had confirmed that rumour when she had delegated to Ginny the task of organizing the Halloween Ball, but she had never imagined that whatever they were doing was more important than a Prefect meeting. Honestly, how much more obvious are you going to be about something that's supposedly a secret? Ginny snorted. But then again, they had never had to learn the art of disguise. It was natural that they wouldn't think of the message they would send to the Prefect body by missing the meeting where they would be discussing castle security.
"Are you having nice fantasies, Weaselette?" Malfoy's voice hissed in her ear, startling Ginny to the point that she tilted back in her chair and fell to the ground with a monstrous thump.
"They were riveting," she mumbled through clenched teeth as she massaged her sore back, thankful that she had had enough presence of spirit to avoid hitting her head on the floor tiles. "Until you decided to be a royal arse and scare them out of me!" she scowled at him as she picked herself up.
"Serves you right for daydreaming through one of my most memorable monologues," he sniffed at her disdainfully. It was then that Ginny realised that the meeting had ended and that she was alone with Malfoy in the Potions classroom.
"Wasn't very memorable if I tuned you out," she retorted with a scoff.
"Well, well, well, I would have never thought that Ginevra Weasley of all people would show disinterest in the words of the mighty and revered Albus Dumbledore," he was smirking like a Cheshire cat, and his arms crossed over his chest made him look all the more imposing despite his comical appearance.
"It's cute that you took the time to learn my name, Malfoy," she parried. "But try saying it with much less malice. It's not meant to sound quite so choppy, but rather more melodious."
"Would you prefer its French variant, perhaps? Guinevere, faithless wife of Sir Arthur, lover to Lancelot and destroyer of Camelot?"
So he had not only bothered to learn her name, but he had researched its ancestry and meaning as well! For the first time ever, Malfoy had rendered her speechless, and Ginny struggled hard to think of any kind of retort, any kind of reply that would gain her back the footing she seemed to have lost, but could think of none. Instead, she found herself asking, "So did your eyes burn out and your hands fall off because you had to read Muggle fairytale?"
"Tsk, tsk, Ginevra, didn't Arthur ever teach you never to tickle a sleeping dragon?" he smirked at her malevolently.
"I guess I betrayed him before he got to that part," she retorted sarcastically, refusing to think of how closely her words matched the truth.
"Ah, and the mystery is, of course, who was the Lancelot for which you destroyed his Camelot?"
"Why I should think that you are quite acquainted with him already, Malfoy," she laughed, although it was dry and unnatural, a poor attempt at hiding just how well he had managed to unsettle her. "As a lapdog of Lord Voldemort, you should know very well how persuasive he can be."
He laughed at her, just as she had expected. She could see from the amused look on his face that he didn't believe her, and it was just as well. Ginny enjoyed throwing the truth in the face of the unsuspecting public and watching the disbelief on their face. People only heard what they wanted to hear, automatically dismissing the uncomfortable truth as falsity.
"These lewd insinuations towards my loyalties have really got to stop, Ginevra. Or I might be forced to give you detention for spreading slanderous misinformation about the Head Boy," he threatened, his lips curved into a quirky smirk.
"Why, Draco," she levelly replied, "I never knew you cared about your reputation enough to be offended by my commentary."
He flushed a bright red and then scrunched his face into a deforming scowl. "I believe it's time for you to hold up your end of the bargain we made last week," he deftly changed the subject.
She had to laugh at his discomfort. If there was something to be said about Malfoy, it was that he knew how to beat a hasty retreat and return with an attack in full-force within seconds of his defeat. He seemed to have a boundless capability to rebound, even from some of her most malicious comments. Whether it was foolish bravery or stubborn pride, Ginny had not yet decided. "Yes, yes, don't get your panties in a knot now, I haven't forgotten," she replied slowly, and bent down to pick up her discarded knapsack.
Truth be told, she had anticipated Malfoy to waltz up to her at breakfast and demand that she restore to him his Malfoy ancestry. It had been quite surprising that he had waited this long before calling in their Earth Vow. Ginny had wondered if he had not perhaps forgotten about it, seeing how she had already decided to wait until the moment when he would demand his release from the spell before she would give it to him. There was something infinitely satisfying about hearing Malfoy begging and grovelling at her feet. "Say please, now," she smiled as innocently as possible, while dangling a bright-blue vial of potion before his extended hand.
"I am not your pet, Weaselette," he growled dangerously.
"I already have a pet Ferret," she informed him in her sunny tone. "And he's much more well behaved than you."
"How charming," he sneered, "now hand the bloody thing over before I change my mind and decide to hex you."
Within heartbeats, Ginny's wand was in her hand and pointed directly at Malfoy's chest. "Threats, Draco, will get you nowhere with me," she hissed, and placed the potion gingerly on a desk to her left.
"Right, I keep on forgetting you're a backstabbing, traitorous, bi––––nt, Ginevra," Malfoy drawled.
"And don't you forget it." With cat-like agility she side-stepped his larger form and made her way out of the classroom.
"Wait!" Malfoy's call stopped her just as she was about to turn the handle and be gone from his presence. Ginny turned around to face him, curious about what he had to say now. "Aren't you going to stick around to see if this works?" he asked, holding up the blue vial.
"There's no need. The day one of my potions doesn't work is the day I check myself into St. Mungos for clinical insanity," Ginny informed him. And I definitely have no plans to give Tom the satisfaction of seeing me crazy on account of him, she added silently. This was a battle she was going to win.
The look on Malfoy's face as Ginny turned around and exited the classroom was distrusting. She supposed it was only fair. He had no reason to trust her, given that she had proven she could easily best him magically. Nonetheless, he should have known that an Earth Vow did not allow any sort of tampering with the magical promise that bound her. She was compelled by the oath to produce the remedy that would cure his case of Weasley looks or else suffer horrible consequences.
The Gryffindor Common Room was crowded when she finally reached it, and with a brief glance towards her housemates, Ginny hurried upstairs to the quietness of her bedroom, wanting to avoid all of those that wanted to speak to her. Maybe if she was lucky she could nap a little before dinner. That was, of course, if the herd of nightmares decided to leave her alone for long enough to get a decent nap. When was the last time I slept? she asked herself. When the answer refused to present itself, Ginny decided that it had indeed been too long since she had felt the contours of her pillow.
She had barely settled into the soft confines of her linens, had managed to disregard her dislike for the vapid yellows and reds of the covers and was burrowing deeper in her search for the velvety folds of sleep, when, from the uninhabited bed to her right the panicked voice of Hermione shattered through Ginny's sleepiness. "Ow Ron! Watch what you're doing with those!" she was shrieking. "No, no, you're not supposed to add in bezoars! Now look what you did, you neutralized the entire solution! Ronald Weasley!"
She was sounding rather cross and upset, and Ginny's curiosity prompted her to rise out of her bed, forget about her sleep and pull open the hangings of the other bed in question. "Wotcher Hermione," she employed Tonks' cheery greeting nonchalantly as her eyes surveyed the scene before her.
The air crackled with traces of magic. She could feel the distinctive traces of concealment and engorgement charms, as well as protective spells. Levitated above the bed was a medium sized cauldron with a small fire burning underneath. The now ruined mixture was a milky, egg-white colour with a thin yellow smoke rising gently out of it. Across the cauldron, Hermione was glaring accusingly at Ron who looked as guilty as she looked angry, and beside him Harry had his head peered in an Advanced Third Grade Poisons and Antidotes Restricted Textbook.
"Harry, what is the purpose of actually concealing our activities when you can't put simple Silencing and Sticking charms to the curtains?" Hermione hissed at the bespectacled boy sitting cross-legged across from her. "Hullo Ginny," she drawled out tersely.
"Sorry 'Mione," Harry whispered absentmindedly, his eyes glued to the pages before him.
"Well there's no point in doing anything about it now, is there? I mean, the Weasel King over here managed to stupendously screw it up, as usual," Hermione threw Ron another withering glare.
"Hey, don't you go blaming me!" Ron exclaimed, his face hot with rage. "For the first and only time in my life I'm following potion instructions to the dot! It's your bloody handwriting that's been telling me to do that!"
Ginny laughed, debating whether or not to get involved in their heated argument. From the looks of it, it didn't look like it was going to end any time soon. "So, what're you making?" she tried a harmless question.
"An Undetectable Po-," Hermione had started in her most serious voice, before she had realised who had asked the question. Eyes wide with fright at almost having spilled her precious little secret, she clamped down on the rest of the predictable syllables and explanations that would have followed.
Were Ginny not accustomed to Hermione's serious treatment of the subject of secrecy she might have been annoyed. As things stood, however, she was simply amused at Hermione's slip up and waited in silence to see how the situation would be handled amongst the group. She had never doubted that Harry was the leader of the pack. But would his word be accepted without question or would Hermione argue with him? It was a fine distinction that played a huge role in power and group dynamics. Ginny's curiosity overrode her tiredness for the moment.
"Oh come off it 'Mione," Harry interrupted. "Ginny's bound to find out sooner or later given that we're brewing this right in her room. It's a miracle that she hasn't caught us before now," he added.
"Well, if you hadn't forgotten to put up the Silencing Charm!" Hermione huffed angrily.
"Well if you had decided to take up Dumbledore's offer of a private room," Ron blurted angrily, "then we wouldn't have this problem. But no, you had to go and be noble and bring up all that 'I'm the same as every other student' crap," he muttered a few more words under his breath, but Ginny did not concern herself with Ron's ire. She guessed it was more annoyance over the fact that it was quite hard to sneak into his girlfriend's dormitory for some private time given that she was sharing with three other girls, one of which was his sister.
"Anyway," Hermione turned her attention back to Ginny, intent on ignoring anything and everything that came out of Ron's mouth. "It's an Undetectable Poison, with a delay mechanism and which operates on multiple strands. It's based on the assumption that the organism it is infecting is stronger than the regular wizard's and hence it might be able to suppress strands of poison on its own. By being able to combine and form more than one kind of poison, it guarantees a weakening of the superior organism and almost certain death."
She could have done without the explanation, Ginny thought caustically, but knowing it wiser to keep her mouth shut said nothing. The Dream Team had absolutely no idea that her hobby in the past year and a half had been collecting difficult and rare books of magic which had endowed her with some very useful and long-forgotten magical skills. What Hermione was relating to her as information of absolute importance, Ginny knew to be only the tip of the iceberg. An Undetectable Poison did more than combine to form multiple strands of poison within the recipient's body. It also integrated itself in the recipient's magical signature and physical tissue, hence leaving no traces of uncommon substances or magic in the body. Moreover, it was invented by Wendelin the Weird in a Muggle prison in between times when she waited to be burned at the stake.
"So who do you want to kill?" Ginny asked, disregarding Hermione's explanation.
"Not us," Harry replied in her place, "Lupin's been infiltrating the Werewolf Underground, and in order to guide his pack and persuade other packs away from Voldemort's evil promises he needs to become pack leader. The only way to do that is to kill the alpha Werewolf who is recognized as boss. Surprisingly enough, Werewolf justice does not exist, and so fowl play is an acceptable means of overthrowing the current head of pack."
"Well, in that case, Ron did a good thing by throwing in those bezoars," Ginny observed calmly.
"How so?" Hermione's voice was frosty with disagreement.
"Well, there's not enough bezoars to neutralize an entire cauldron of Undetectable Poison. But they will help slow down the rate of reaction of the poison, making the death of the pack leader a slow affair. Lupin will have time to take over leadership responsibilities from the weakening leader and will succeed seamlessly into the pack. Nobody will ever think that he had something to do with the leader's death, and they will all be used to his leadership and capabilities and he will have a much easier time persuading them away from Tom."
"Hm, that's perhaps not a bad idea," Harry agreed thoughtfully. Hermione too, wore a similarly pensive expression.
"So you see, I am brilliant!" Ron sniffed mockingly at Hermione. "It would do best that you don't question my judgement next time."
"Oh shut up, Ron," she replied, anger back into her voice. "It was just beginner's luck and Ginny's wit that got you out of this one, so don't even try pretending it was your own superior intelligence. If she wouldn't have come along, we would have had an entire batch of ruined poison and would have to start anew."
"You're welcome," Ginny interjected, before she could fully think her comment through. Harry grinned back at her conspiringly and Hermione muttered a stiff thank you. Ron said nothing. "Well, you lot take care then. I'm off to take a quick nap before dinner, so please put on the Silencing and Sticking charms," she continued with a pleasant smile.
She had been walking away, towards her own bed, when Hermione's voice cut through the silence of the bedroom once more, "Ginny, what happened at the Prefect's meeting today?" she asked, peering her head through the obscenely red curtains.
"Oh, nothing much. Malfoy was the general self-important prat he always is. Was talking about how the Prefects have additional responsibilities now to strengthen the castle's security. I think he split us off into pairs and he's going to give us a list of the wards and spells that need strengthening and then we're going to work on different areas of the castle," she related with surprising ease, given the fact that she had not been paying attention to the better part of the meeting.
"Yes, I knew that much," Hermione replied with a frown. "I handed him a list of the prefect pairs and the suggested wards that they strengthen. We're going to be sacrificing our Hogsmeade weekends to perform this task, since it's safer to perform complicated ward magic when the castle is free of students."
Ginny found herself sheepishly blushing at Hermione's words. Malfoy would have undoubtedly handed out the pair assignments to the remainder of the prefects, but due to the fact that she hadn't been paying attention, she would be humiliated into having to seek him out to find out the name of her partner. It was a devious way to get revenge, and one that stung Ginny's pride and ego more than she cared to admit. Next time, she would most assuredly hang onto Malfoy's every petty word in the hopes of not repeating this incident. "Say Hermione," an idea began to grow at the back of Ginny's mind, "you wouldn't happen to have a copy of that parchment, would you? I fear I've forgotten my assignment in all of this excitement."
There was silence for a minute, then the shuffling of papers and then Hermione's head appeared through the curtains once more. "Here you go," the bushy-haired girl replied, handing her one of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes Cheating Scrolls.
"A Cheating Scroll, Hermione?" Ginny asked, her expression wholly bemused.
"It's not like you think," the other girl flushed, "but I can't be chasing down Malfoy all the time when I want something done. The Cheating Scrolls work in pairs, so I just write something on mine, and it appears on his, and it's easier to keep track of everything."
It was like Hermione to figure out the most time-efficient solution to her Head Girl duties. Inwardly, Ginny was impressed, though a bit nervous to be holding a piece of paper that could write back. She had learned all about those in her first year and had no desire to re-learn her lesson. However, as her eyes scanned the scroll, the tension in her stomach was replaced by sheer dread. "I'm assuming you're not the one that made these denominations," she thrust the scroll back into Hermione's outstretched hand.
Hermione's face turned three shades of livid before she tore her eyes from the parchment. "Why I've never!" she sputtered helplessly. "When I get my hands on Malfoy he's going to wish he stayed that stupid little ratty ferret!
"What happened?" Ron asked, invisible behind the river of red curtains.
"He, he's changed all the Prefect pairs without consulting me about it!" Hermione shrieked, waving the parchment in Ginny's face.
"Not only that, but it seems that all Gryffindor Prefects are paired up with Slytherin ones," Ginny observed as she gingerly plucked the offending paper from Hermione's hands and scanned the list. "Why on earth would Malfoy want to pair up Hermione and Parkinson, Zabini and Ron, and most importantly me and him together?"
"You and Malfoy? Absolutely not!" Ron screeched, fumbling with the curtains well enough that he ended up falling off the bed.
"Oh give it up, Ron," Hermione sighed down at him, exasperated. "It makes sense: she cursed him, and now he wants to get revenge by driving her to madness with his riveting personality and mannerisms."
Inwardly, Ginny agreed with her assessment. It seemed that Malfoy had devised a method of punishing her for her cheek after all. And it was most devious indeed. "It still doesn't explain why she paired you guys the way he did," she stated.
"Maybe he's promoting House Unity. Maybe he's trying to subtly encourage the Slytherins towards our side," Harry's voice suggested calmly.
Three heads immediately snapped to attention.
"Yeah right, Harry. Malfoy? He's been your fiercest rival for seven years running. He's almost competing with You-Know-Who for Harry Potter's Number One Enemy spot. Why would he try to help you win the war?" Ron jokingly questioned.
"Maybe because he's realised that Voldemort will lose." The quiet confidence in Harry's tone was staggering. Ginny shivered, but preferred to attribute it to the dampness of the room, not to her sudden fear of the green-eyed boy she had known for most of her life.
"Well, there's nothing we can do now. He's already given the lists to Dumbledore and he hasn't made any changes to them, so we're stuck like this until the end of the assignment. Working with Parkinson's going to be such an amazing experience," Hermione made a gagging face and Ginny giggled.
"Don't count your dragons before they're hatched," she advised with a grin, but sadly, the irony of the saying was lost on Hermione. It was, Ginny considered, the sort of thing she should be telling herself. After all, she was the one about to get thrown into the dragon's den.