Author's Note: My God, too much research went into this chapter. I won't say anything now, but let me just tell you, I now know much more about that place than I've ever really wanted to…just kidding. ^_^
In chapter ten
Ginny finds out more
And she has to dream again
So just be glad she doesn't snore…
Draco is rather stupid here
Plus we learn more about the trips
And get a peek into Draco's mind
Which isn't a cause for flips
The Dream Team is absent
Unlike my OC's
And if you're hoping for snogging
I have to say puh-leeze
It will all come in time
But that time isn't now
So just read the chap
And let me take my bow!!
Haha, beat that other people!!
Disclaimer: No, I completely own the Potterverse. I created Harry, Ginny, Draco, everyone, and the entire plotline of five best-selling books. *end sarcasm* Of course I don't bloody own anything.
You've Got Mail: Ch.10-Isn't Astral Projection Fun?
The next couple of weeks passed by quickly in a blur of research, insults, and other monotonous tasks for Ginny and Draco. Every day he didn't have Quidditch practice, they met in the library after dinner to scan over endless tomes, trying to find out as much as they could about William Claydor. But, as Ginny mused one afternoon, they weren't having much luck with the obscure vampire.
She was in DADA, the last class of the day. She was sitting between Aimee and Colin, doodling random pictures next to her notes. Professor Ivanovich had taken to giving them independent study periods; they could either work on their homework (varied essays on magical creatures) or the project. Many opted instead to sleep or talk with friends.
Under dire threats of Malfoy's, Ginny had a funny smelling book open in front of her, and was supposed to be taking notes. Instead, she was doodling a little cartoon, featuring a triumphant looking Ginny standing next to a ferret. She sat back and smirked. It was the best picture of Malfoy she'd ever seen.
She nudged Colin on her left to show him the drawing; he gave a muffled sort of snore before waking up. He grinned widely.
"I take it you guys are arguing again?" He whispered, leaning across the small aisle towards her. He glanced at their teacher, but Ivanovich was busy reading.
Ginny scowled. "We always are. In retaliation for the blackmail, the git has started taking hour-long bathroom breaks," she told him quietly, voice shaking with anger. "And whenever we see any Slytherins, I always end up 'accidentally' tripping."
Colin gave a soft snort, and turned back over, clearly intent on more sleep. Ginny, of course, didn't notice, still fuming as she remembered the horrors of the past two weeks. Well, the optimistic part of her argued, at least you've learned a lot more about William Claydor.
It was true, his history wasn't fascinating, but it was exactly what Ivanovich would probably want on the report. Though it didn't get Ginny any closer to figuring out her dream.
Every day, she pored over seemingly endless numbers of diaries, encyclopedias, and any other book she could get her hands on, but she could never figure out who Ivanovich really was, or what his interest was in William Claydor. Or rather, had been, as the man was now dead.
Ginny smirked mentally. She knew it was rather evil of her, but she couldn't help smiling a bit when she encountered another book saying that Claydor was still alive. They had no idea what had happened to him in some dark forest.
She had told Aimee this, only to have her friend bite her lip, and ever-so-gently, suggest that maybe her dream had been just that. A dream. Ginny had been taken aback by this. Through everything, fights with Malfoy, Aimee, research , everything, she'd barely entertained the option that her dream wasn't real. She knew it was real. It just, had to be.
It had to be.
***
"Hey Malfoy, aren't you gonna apologize for bumping into me? It was all your fault," came a taunting sneer from behind Draco. He clenched his fists, stopping for a second, but he steeled himself and resumed walking. He got too many taunts a day to stop and beat up everyone.
It was all Weasley's fault. He'd established long ago, that the blame rested on her, but still, he just had to go over it again once more in his head. All her fault, all her fault, her fault, because of her, she did it, any way he placed it, it was still the same. HER fault.
Did I mention Draco's memory happened to be a very selective one?
He was brought back to the present by more sniggering. He stopped whirled around, fixed the offending younger student (again, as Draco thought, how could they be so annoying so young?) with a death glare, and went on.
That day, Draco vowed, he'd talk to Weasley. Sure, it might be fun to leave her with most of the work and other such silly things, but they were just little tricks she always managed to shrug off, annoyingly enough. And she was smart too, Draco had to admit grudgingly. Whatever he did to her, she gave back ten fold.
He turned a corner, and sighed in relief at the sight of the approaching library doors. There at least, his crowd of aggravators would leave him alone; Madam Pince hated talkers and fights almost as much as she hated termites. Pushing open the doors, Draco was relieved to hear slight sighs from behind him, and the sound of feet shuffling slowly away.
He walked through, and, not being blinded by a flash of red hair, he presumed she was being held up somehow and started towards their usual table. After almost a week of negotiations with the hawk-like librarian, involving much yelling on his part, Draco and Ginny had finally managed to get that table as their own. Thus, when he made his way back to it, all the books they had used the previous day were still there, marked pages still intact.
Draco sat down and picked up the book he was currently reading, flipping open to one dog-eared page, before remembering he had read it all, and throwing it back down with disgust. He began thinking of the upcoming travel days. All the boys in his dorm with girl partners were making extravagant plans about how to sneak past the wards that would be placed on their rooms. And then they'd start to ask Draco what he was doing, before remembering his partner, and either sighing in false sympathy or guffaw at his misfortune. Actually, everyone had laughed at him and his unfortunate choice in partners.
"Malfoy!"
Well, speak of the red headed devil. Barely containing a groan, he swiveled around and saw Weasley jogging towards him, ignoring the glare of the librarian. She skidded to a halt, doubling over for a second before straightening with an odd look on her face.
"What is it, Weasel?" He hissed, glancing around shiftily. "This is a bloody library, or are you too poor to-" He caught her meaningful glare, and scowled. "Sorry, sorry."
She sniffed haughtily, sitting across from him. "Good," Ginny said coldly, but that soon crumbled. "Have you thought at all about where we should go for our trip?"
He rolled his eyes. "No. I'd been rather hoping we could skip doing that part of the project together," said Draco.
"Me too, but I checked with the professor, and I'm starting to think it's a requirement. So, where to?"
He sighed, and looked up as if searching the heavens for patience. This girl knew exactly how to annoy him, even her voice bothered him. And now, apparently he was going to be stuck with her in a foreign country. Goody.
"I have no idea, Claydor's one of the most bland vampires in the world! And besides that, his entire meager existence is in the books. There's no point in going anywhere!" Draco hissed angrily.
Ginny looked a bit surprised at his outburst, her eyes widening before she narrowed them in thought. Finally, she gave a small noise and jumped out of her seat. "Malfoy, meet me here tomorrow. I think I might know where we can go," she said, before speeding out the door, leaving a mystified Draco behind.
***
"Fizzing Whizbee!"
No response.
"Ooh, fine then, uhhh, Licorice Wand!!"
No response.
"Damn you, you stupid thing!!" A kick.
"Ms. Weasley!"
Ginny whirled around, face almost comical at the shock of being caught kicking the gargoyle that was the entrance to Dumbledore's office. Professor McGonagall was standing there. Ginny clasped her hands in front of her nervously.
"Hi, Professor," she said slowly. "I was just, um, trying to see the Headmaster but I don't know the password so..."
The professor swept in, murmuring the password too quietly for Ginny to hear and still looking rather scandalized. She turned around once the gargoyle was opening. "You know," she said, not unkindly, "next time you can just say 'Student to see the headmaster,' and it will open for you."
Ginny, her cheeks flaming, muttered a thanks and rushed through. She climbed the stairs quickly, not even knocking before barging into the room. "Professor Dumbledore I need to talk to you," she said quickly.
The Headmaster looked up from behind his desk and smiled. "Why, hello Miss Weasley! How can I help you?"
Ginny sank down in the chair nearby. "It's sort of complicated," she trailed off.
He was still smiling at her. "My dear, magic is nothing if not complicated. Try and explain, I'll see what I can do."
"Well, I had a dream a while ago, and I need to have it again, to find out some things."
"Mmhm. Now, if that's the case, why don't you go to Professor Trelawney? It seems more her area than mine," said Dumbledore, starting to peel an orange that he had conjured moments before.
Ginny hesitated for a moment, before starting to speak. "I'm not so sure, but I think it wasn't so much Divination, as it was astral projection."
Dumbledore nodded his head. "Then you've certainly come to the right place. How can you be sure?"
Thinking back, she waited a bit before answering. "It was cold wherever I was, so I felt cold. And I felt the ground under my feet, and the texture of the trees. And, one of the two people, I, uh, saw, he looked straight at me like he could see me," she halted again, before shrugging. "I don't know, maybe it was all a dream. But it felt so real, and I can still remember all the details even now. I usually forget my dreams. Although…"
"Although what?"
Ginny blushed. "My dream, or vision or whatever it was, it suddenly switched to something that couldn't have possibly been real. There were people there, and weird things, and such. I think that part was a real dream."
"But you remember all the details about that too?" He asked.
Ginny thought of the almost-kiss with Malfoy. She remembered every millisecond of the dream, from first discovering the red dress to screaming at the sight of Tom. "Yes."
The old man pretended not to notice her discomfort as he stood from his desk, and walked around, finally stopping in front of the sleeping Fawkes. Back still to her, he started to speak. "I'm quite amazed," he said finally. "You really have accomplished astral projection. You see, most of the time, once the astral projection is over, the body reverts back to its sort of defense mechanism, which in this case was another dream. Or you just couldn't take the strain and fell asleep. But in either case, it was most definitely astral projection."
Ginny smiled widely; that meant that she could do it again and find out where they should go! Excitedly, she stood up. "So how can I do it again?"
He turned around now. "It's quite an inexact art. Chamomile tea should help, as would trying to clear your mind and focus on your destination before sleeping. But most of all, you must imagine that you need to be there. It's easier to do at night, than when awake. When you're conscious, the only thing that can make astral projection happen is a very strong will, but that doesn't even always work. And there's also a Calming Sleep powder Madame Pomfrey should have, I'll give you a note for it, as it's very potent," Dumbledore told her.
Ginny's grin widened even more, if possible. "Thank you, Headmaster, thank you so much!"
***
That night, after a nice, calming chat with Dragon, and a minute of repeating her goal, Ginny sat cross-legged on top of her bedcovers, before pouring the calming powder into her chamomile tea, and chugging it down quickly. She felt the effects soon after, and barely had time to crawl under the covers (it got quite chilly at night in Hogwarts) before she passed out.
Instantly, she was back in the clearing. She barely restrained a whoop of joy, before realizing that it might not be safe and ducking behind a tree. Ginny felt her heart pound against her ribcage; she was scared the noise was actually audible.
After a minute or so, which felt like hours to her, she peeked her head out. It was safe. Ginny came out from behind the tree, a bit nervously. She had no real clue how long the projection would last, Dumbledore had said it could be anywhere from fifteen seconds to fifteen hours.
A wind blew, hard, and Ginny shivered and cursed. She was still in her pajamas, and though it was flannel, it was no match for the weather of wherever she was. "I'm so stupid," she muttered before wrapping arms around herself, and beginning her search for clues.
It was hard work. She had no wand, because her projection was only strong enough for her body and her clothes. The broken ground dug into her bare feet, she started feeling numb from cold, and it was so dark she could hardly see her own hand in front of her face. And Ginny didn't even know what she was looking for, which made it that much harder.
Finally, when she was sure that her toes really were falling off, she stepped on something rather sharp and yelped. Heart racing now, Ginny knelt and searched for whatever it was frantically. That thing had felt sharp, sharper than wood or dirt could be. Suddenly, her fingers alighted on something smooth, and she leaned forward, squinting. It was some sort of brooch, or maybe a cloak pin. But she definitely knew that it was gold, and it had been dropped somewhat recently. She grinned happily. At last, she thought.
Standing, Ginny looked around. The strain of staying here for so long was taking its toll on her, and she knew that soon she'd either pass out or have to return home. Not that she was so clear on how to do that either.
"Now I just need to know where the hell I am…" she said to herself softly.
Ginny started off in one random direction, trying to remember which way she was going, but it was impossible. All the trees looked the same, and the sky, though getting lighter, was still dark, so she couldn't rely on constellations. Sighing, she quickened her pace. She was getting weaker at holding herself there, and if Ginny looked down, she could sometimes see her legs flicker out of focus. But she still trudged on.
When it looked like the sky was starting to get lighter, she finally saw what looked like a wooden sign. Ginny ran towards it happily. Once she reached it, she could have hit herself. Of course it was in another language! Squinting at the faded letters, she managed to recognize that it was in Russian (Aha! She thought. So at least I know the country), but she had no idea what it said.
Her legs were almost completely vanished now, and the dizziness and buzzing in her ears had increased. She frowned and set herself to memorizing the maddening letters. C, A, H, K, T, those were all fine, but the last ones were much worse. Something that looked a bit like the Roman numeral for two without the bottom, E, T, E, P, a six thing, then the letter Y, and two squiggles too faded to read clearly. Ginny chanted those over and over to herself, staring at the sign, till finally, the strain got too much, and she crumpled to the ground, still clutching the brooch as she faded back to her own bed in Hogwarts.
***
"Ginny! Ginny!! Wake up!!"
Ginny whimpered and fluttered her eyelids open. The vision of Aimee in front of her blurred, then split into two Aimee's, spinning clockwise around each other. That momentarily distracted her from the pounding aches all over her body, but once she remembered, Ginny groaned. Loudly. "Aimee, quit moving around and shrieking like that, I'm fine."
Her best friend sighed in relief before sitting on the bed. "Good, I got just a bit worried when I couldn't wake you up," said Aimee dryly. Still, Ginny could detect a bit of a quiver in her voice. "What happened to you anyways?"
Ginny felt a moment of panic. Dumbledore had warned her not to tell anyone unless it was absolutely necessary, and even then, to be very careful. "Uhh, I don't know, I guess I'm just tired and overworked, you know, with the project and everything." Even in her own ears, that sounded strained.
Aimee seemed to tell there was something Ginny was hiding. "Well, alright then, I guess." She brightened. "By the way, where are you and Malfoy going for the trip? We get to go to the States for ours!"
"Russia," she said with a mysterious half-smile. That quickly disappeared as she felt a pinch underneath her back. Surreptitiously sneaking a hand beneath herself, Ginny's hand wrapped met the now-warm metal of the brooch, and she gasped, sitting up. "Speaking of which, I gotta go. I have to meet Malfoy."
She got out of bed quickly, barely restraining a moan. Her bones felt like they had been pounded by hammers for hours, and Ginny felt like the bottoms of her feet had been scraped away entirely. It was not a good feeling. She shooed Aimee out with more feeble excuses, though her friend finally realized that there was something up and said she had to work too. Ginny wondered about her as she changed into some jeans and a sweater. No friendship could survive weeks of isolation and coldness unscathed, and even now, Ginny could feel the distance between them. At least they both had Colin to keep them together, thankfully.
Ginny stood and shrugged off those kind of thoughts. That wasn't what mattered right now. Now, she was just too happy that her dream had been real all along, and that she had both gotten the brooch and the knowledge of the location of the clearing.
"Speaking of location," she murmured, "I should really write down that nearby town or whatever it was on the sign." She grabbed a piece of parchment on a desk and tapped the quill against her teeth as she remembered. Ginny quickly wrote the characters down, but drew two blank spaces for the last two. She and Malfoy would just have to guess. She silently prayed he knew Russian, before running out the door.
***
Draco yawned widely, idly wondering if that popping in his jaw if he opened his mouth too wide was normal. Probably not, he reflected, but he was rather too tired to care. He yawned again, this time his mind reviewing Muggle TV shows (not that he'd ever admit watching them) of bugs flying into people's mouths as they slept. Draco promptly clapped his mouth shut. He didn't like bugs.
He was out on the empty Quidditch pitch, laying down on the grass and staring up at the near cloudless sky. One little thin wisp of white cloud passed by leisurely, and he tried in vain to make some sort of shape out of it, but all his mind could think of was a slug. Draco gave a faint pffft sort of snort, and shut his eyes, clearly intent on sleep.
Then he heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Damn it all to hell, no one ever bloody let him sleep. Just last night Crabbe had roused him at exactly three twenty-six A.M. to tell Draco, sniggering loudly, that he'd managed to stuff twenty bon bons into his mouth at once.
Again, the blonde boy had to wonder just why he surrounded himself with these people.
The footsteps got closer. "Who is it?" He called out crabbily, eyes still shut as he prayed it was some younger student who, realizing who had yelled, would run away. No such luck. His own personal demon, boggart, poltergeist or whatever he could think of, had to be the one to answer him.
"Malfoy! Get your fat arse up, I've got important news!" Weaselette yelled. Draco could swear her voice would haunt him for years following this project.
Grumbling, he opened his eyes and got up, lazily remarking, "My arse is not fat. See? Perfect, like the rest of me," here he flashed her a toothy grin and half turned to show off afore-mentioned butt.
She rolled her eyes. "Hardly," she retorted. "But enough of that, I really do have important news. I know the general area we have to go for our trip, and I have one piece of evidence that we'll need to review."
Draco immediately sobered. "So where are we going?"
"Well…it's somewhere in Russia, I'm pretty sure of that. But as for the exact location, that's what I need your help with. Can you read this?" Ginny asked desperately, thrusting the parchment with the letters under his nose.
He grabbed it, and blinked, studying the characters. Ginny hoped that maybe he was deciphering the letters. Finally, he remarked, "You know, I'm really beginning to wish I'd listened when Mother began pushing for those foreign language lessons."
"ERGH!" She shrieked. "This is useless, we'll never know where to go! We'll wander all over Russia and its FIFTEEN BLOODY TIME ZONES, and never find the clearing again!!!" The girl looked ready to cry.
Draco was so alarmed at her face that he dismissed what she had said about some clearing. "Listen, don't worry," he hurried to reassure her, "there's this girl I know in Ravenclaw, she owes me a favor and she's really smart. We can ask her." Ginny was already too far gone though, she had crumpled to the ground and her frame was racked with silent sobs. Instinctively, Draco knew it wasn't just this, it came back to much more in her life. And he wanted to help her.
"Hey, come on." He grabbed Ginny and pulled her up, holding her upper arms firmly as he talked to her. "Don't fall apart for little things like this, you've gotta save the meltdowns for big stuff," Draco told her with a slight smile. She sniffled a bit, shrugging, but it seemed his words had worked. She straightened and wiped at her eyes impatiently, and it was as if the breakdown had never occurred.
On the silent walk to the Ravenclaw common room, Draco remembered what she had said about evidence. "What's the evidence you wanted to show me?"
Her face lit up. "Oh I completely forgot! I haven't really gotten a good look at it either, so…" Ginny held out her open hand to show him the brooch. They both stopped just outside the castle doors, and he picked it up, examining it in the light. It was well made, definitely gold, looked to be quite old. He told her as much.
Ginny nodded. "I thought as much. Do you think your Ravenclaw will know anything about brooches?"
Draco smirked and shrugged. "Hey, we can ask."
***
"Draco! I haven't seen you in ages, what brings you to the Ravenclaw common room?" Kimura Yamamoto, his seventh year Ravenclaw friend, asked him, brown eyes sparkling. She didn't even bother asking how the boy got in.
It was almost deserted, so Ginny and Draco sat on the couch by the fire and near Kimura. Ginny eyed the older girl with something akin to respect. Her features were both warm and guarded as she talked to Draco, and Ginny could tell that he respected her too. It showed in their friendly banter.
"Oh, this, that and the other thing. I need to call in that favor you owed me," he told her.
Kimura made a face and put her bookmark in the textbook. "Damn, and here I was hoping you'd forgotten about that," she muttered.
He smirked. "Not a chance." They both smiled at each other, making Ginny wonder if there hadn't been something between the two before. For some reason, that thought annoyed her, and she coughed discreetly, breaking the connection.
Draco turned slightly and grabbed the parchment with the letters. "Can you tell us what this says? We don't know about the last two letters so you'll have to guess with tho-"
"Saint Petersburg," she interrupted smoothly. Draco blinked, and Kimura sighed before explaining. "It says Saint Petersburg in Russian. You know, the big city with all the bright lights and things?"
Ginny giggled at the expression on his pale face. "You shut up," he told her out of the corner of his mouth.
She just giggled louder, and Draco decided to ignore her. Well, as soon as she showed Kimura the other thing. "We've also found this brooch, and we need your help with it."
Ginny passed over the brooch. The Japanese girl frowned and slid on slim glasses, eyeing the jewelry thoroughly. She spoke after a long while. "It's an odd piece," she said finally. "Most of the pins like these were popular in the Middle Ages, but this looks to be much older, almost centuries so. It's real gold, in the shape of a crowned A pin."
"Crowned A?" Both Draco and Ginny asked at the same time.
Kimura put the brooch down and slid off her spectacles in an easy, practiced movement. "See the letter with a sort of crown over it? It stands for the Latin saying, 'Amor Vincit Omnia,' which means-"
"Love conquers all," Draco cut in with confusion. "But why would he have this? Isn't it more of a girl's thing?
She shrugged. "Hey, I have no idea about the why. I think that's more what you guys have to find out."
Draco scowled at Ginny. "Great, more mysteries and research," he muttered darkly. "You know, this is all your fault."
"My fault?" She shrieked, gaping. "Oh well sor-ry for wanting to do well on this dumb project, and risking my neck to find out information for us!"
"Risked you neck? How? What the hell's been going on? First you get all mysterious and convince me to pick Claydor as our vampire, which turned out badly, then you suddenly come out with all this information that make no sense! Explain, Weaselette!"
Kimura was watching them with interest, and Ginny noticed, face flaming with embarrassment and anger. "Not here and now," she murmured, standing and pulling him up and towards the door. "Goodbye, uhh, Kimura, was it? And thank you, but we've got to be going." She headed towards the exit, dragging a protesting Draco behind.
Kimura shook her head with silent mirth. After all, she had known Draco for a long time, and he was never one to be dragged out. Unless he wanted to be dragged, of course.
***
Once out of the Ravenclaw Common Room, Draco shook off her grip on his arm rather moodily.
"Let go Weasel, I don't need your germs contaminati-oh damn. The photo. Right, right, sorry," he muttered in disgust. "It's a hard habit to break, okay?"
She sighed. "Yeah, yeah I know. Oh, and for the record, if you can still call me Weaselette, I can call you Mal-Ferret."
Draco made a face as he considered. True, he hated that name, but it was preferable to having to call her Ginny. He shuddered inwardly at the thought and nodded slightly. Having completely forgotten his previous anger over all the secrets, he asked her, "So, what do we do now?"
She grinned. "Now, we go tell Professor Ivanovich that next Saturday, we're going to Saint-Petersburg." There was a flicker of something unplaceable in her eyes, but Draco ignored it, too excited about the upcoming trip.
He stood up. "Let's go, then," he said with a smirk.
The walk was completely silent, with both teens trying their best to stay on opposite sides of the hallway from each other. There was one instance, however, that crowds forced their forearms to touch for the slightest millisecond. Ginny pretended to gag inwardly.
Entering the classroom, Draco gave a knock on the door jamb with his knuckles. "Hello, Professor Ivanovich?"
He turned his dark head from the window he was looking out of, face in a moody scowl, but at the sight of his students Boris Ivanovich smiled. "Why hello Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Weasley. Here to talk about the research trip this Thursday?"
Draco nodded. "Yes, we'll be needing a Portkey to Russia, Saint Petersburg to be exact."
That smile stiffened for an instant, and it seemed so cold to Ginny. His eyes slid over her, before he finally nodded and looked down, hiding that cruel face. She shivered and tried to slide a bit behind Draco. "Alright, you'll be with the main group going to eastern Europe, then catching a private Portkey from there. May I ask why you've chosen Russia? I understood that Claydor is an English vampire," asked Ivanovich, shuffling some random papers as he sat at the big desk.
Draco glared at the girl behind him, motioning for her to be the one to explain. She opened her mouth, and her voice caught in her throat, before an idea struck. "It's a surprise!" Ginny told the older man cheerfully. "We don't want anyone to know before our paper is done. It should be absolutely fantastic! Well, Malfoy, come on, we'd better go work on our paper more! Bye Professor!!!" There, she thought with satisfaction as she dragged Draco away, that should keep him believing I'm the stupid ditz for a while.
Once outside, Draco burst out laughing. "'Absolutely fantastic?'" He mocked with a whoop of laughter.
She blushed crimson. "Shut up Ferret boy."
***
A bit short…but I didn't know what else to write. And as for the info on Russian, HA!! It's correct!! I stayed up insanely late but I found it!! *cackles maniacally, then howls as men in white jackets take her away*
Review!
In chapter ten
Ginny finds out more
And she has to dream again
So just be glad she doesn't snore…
Draco is rather stupid here
Plus we learn more about the trips
And get a peek into Draco's mind
Which isn't a cause for flips
The Dream Team is absent
Unlike my OC's
And if you're hoping for snogging
I have to say puh-leeze
It will all come in time
But that time isn't now
So just read the chap
And let me take my bow!!
Haha, beat that other people!!
Disclaimer: No, I completely own the Potterverse. I created Harry, Ginny, Draco, everyone, and the entire plotline of five best-selling books. *end sarcasm* Of course I don't bloody own anything.
You've Got Mail: Ch.10-Isn't Astral Projection Fun?
The next couple of weeks passed by quickly in a blur of research, insults, and other monotonous tasks for Ginny and Draco. Every day he didn't have Quidditch practice, they met in the library after dinner to scan over endless tomes, trying to find out as much as they could about William Claydor. But, as Ginny mused one afternoon, they weren't having much luck with the obscure vampire.
She was in DADA, the last class of the day. She was sitting between Aimee and Colin, doodling random pictures next to her notes. Professor Ivanovich had taken to giving them independent study periods; they could either work on their homework (varied essays on magical creatures) or the project. Many opted instead to sleep or talk with friends.
Under dire threats of Malfoy's, Ginny had a funny smelling book open in front of her, and was supposed to be taking notes. Instead, she was doodling a little cartoon, featuring a triumphant looking Ginny standing next to a ferret. She sat back and smirked. It was the best picture of Malfoy she'd ever seen.
She nudged Colin on her left to show him the drawing; he gave a muffled sort of snore before waking up. He grinned widely.
"I take it you guys are arguing again?" He whispered, leaning across the small aisle towards her. He glanced at their teacher, but Ivanovich was busy reading.
Ginny scowled. "We always are. In retaliation for the blackmail, the git has started taking hour-long bathroom breaks," she told him quietly, voice shaking with anger. "And whenever we see any Slytherins, I always end up 'accidentally' tripping."
Colin gave a soft snort, and turned back over, clearly intent on more sleep. Ginny, of course, didn't notice, still fuming as she remembered the horrors of the past two weeks. Well, the optimistic part of her argued, at least you've learned a lot more about William Claydor.
It was true, his history wasn't fascinating, but it was exactly what Ivanovich would probably want on the report. Though it didn't get Ginny any closer to figuring out her dream.
Every day, she pored over seemingly endless numbers of diaries, encyclopedias, and any other book she could get her hands on, but she could never figure out who Ivanovich really was, or what his interest was in William Claydor. Or rather, had been, as the man was now dead.
Ginny smirked mentally. She knew it was rather evil of her, but she couldn't help smiling a bit when she encountered another book saying that Claydor was still alive. They had no idea what had happened to him in some dark forest.
She had told Aimee this, only to have her friend bite her lip, and ever-so-gently, suggest that maybe her dream had been just that. A dream. Ginny had been taken aback by this. Through everything, fights with Malfoy, Aimee, research , everything, she'd barely entertained the option that her dream wasn't real. She knew it was real. It just, had to be.
It had to be.
***
"Hey Malfoy, aren't you gonna apologize for bumping into me? It was all your fault," came a taunting sneer from behind Draco. He clenched his fists, stopping for a second, but he steeled himself and resumed walking. He got too many taunts a day to stop and beat up everyone.
It was all Weasley's fault. He'd established long ago, that the blame rested on her, but still, he just had to go over it again once more in his head. All her fault, all her fault, her fault, because of her, she did it, any way he placed it, it was still the same. HER fault.
Did I mention Draco's memory happened to be a very selective one?
He was brought back to the present by more sniggering. He stopped whirled around, fixed the offending younger student (again, as Draco thought, how could they be so annoying so young?) with a death glare, and went on.
That day, Draco vowed, he'd talk to Weasley. Sure, it might be fun to leave her with most of the work and other such silly things, but they were just little tricks she always managed to shrug off, annoyingly enough. And she was smart too, Draco had to admit grudgingly. Whatever he did to her, she gave back ten fold.
He turned a corner, and sighed in relief at the sight of the approaching library doors. There at least, his crowd of aggravators would leave him alone; Madam Pince hated talkers and fights almost as much as she hated termites. Pushing open the doors, Draco was relieved to hear slight sighs from behind him, and the sound of feet shuffling slowly away.
He walked through, and, not being blinded by a flash of red hair, he presumed she was being held up somehow and started towards their usual table. After almost a week of negotiations with the hawk-like librarian, involving much yelling on his part, Draco and Ginny had finally managed to get that table as their own. Thus, when he made his way back to it, all the books they had used the previous day were still there, marked pages still intact.
Draco sat down and picked up the book he was currently reading, flipping open to one dog-eared page, before remembering he had read it all, and throwing it back down with disgust. He began thinking of the upcoming travel days. All the boys in his dorm with girl partners were making extravagant plans about how to sneak past the wards that would be placed on their rooms. And then they'd start to ask Draco what he was doing, before remembering his partner, and either sighing in false sympathy or guffaw at his misfortune. Actually, everyone had laughed at him and his unfortunate choice in partners.
"Malfoy!"
Well, speak of the red headed devil. Barely containing a groan, he swiveled around and saw Weasley jogging towards him, ignoring the glare of the librarian. She skidded to a halt, doubling over for a second before straightening with an odd look on her face.
"What is it, Weasel?" He hissed, glancing around shiftily. "This is a bloody library, or are you too poor to-" He caught her meaningful glare, and scowled. "Sorry, sorry."
She sniffed haughtily, sitting across from him. "Good," Ginny said coldly, but that soon crumbled. "Have you thought at all about where we should go for our trip?"
He rolled his eyes. "No. I'd been rather hoping we could skip doing that part of the project together," said Draco.
"Me too, but I checked with the professor, and I'm starting to think it's a requirement. So, where to?"
He sighed, and looked up as if searching the heavens for patience. This girl knew exactly how to annoy him, even her voice bothered him. And now, apparently he was going to be stuck with her in a foreign country. Goody.
"I have no idea, Claydor's one of the most bland vampires in the world! And besides that, his entire meager existence is in the books. There's no point in going anywhere!" Draco hissed angrily.
Ginny looked a bit surprised at his outburst, her eyes widening before she narrowed them in thought. Finally, she gave a small noise and jumped out of her seat. "Malfoy, meet me here tomorrow. I think I might know where we can go," she said, before speeding out the door, leaving a mystified Draco behind.
***
"Fizzing Whizbee!"
No response.
"Ooh, fine then, uhhh, Licorice Wand!!"
No response.
"Damn you, you stupid thing!!" A kick.
"Ms. Weasley!"
Ginny whirled around, face almost comical at the shock of being caught kicking the gargoyle that was the entrance to Dumbledore's office. Professor McGonagall was standing there. Ginny clasped her hands in front of her nervously.
"Hi, Professor," she said slowly. "I was just, um, trying to see the Headmaster but I don't know the password so..."
The professor swept in, murmuring the password too quietly for Ginny to hear and still looking rather scandalized. She turned around once the gargoyle was opening. "You know," she said, not unkindly, "next time you can just say 'Student to see the headmaster,' and it will open for you."
Ginny, her cheeks flaming, muttered a thanks and rushed through. She climbed the stairs quickly, not even knocking before barging into the room. "Professor Dumbledore I need to talk to you," she said quickly.
The Headmaster looked up from behind his desk and smiled. "Why, hello Miss Weasley! How can I help you?"
Ginny sank down in the chair nearby. "It's sort of complicated," she trailed off.
He was still smiling at her. "My dear, magic is nothing if not complicated. Try and explain, I'll see what I can do."
"Well, I had a dream a while ago, and I need to have it again, to find out some things."
"Mmhm. Now, if that's the case, why don't you go to Professor Trelawney? It seems more her area than mine," said Dumbledore, starting to peel an orange that he had conjured moments before.
Ginny hesitated for a moment, before starting to speak. "I'm not so sure, but I think it wasn't so much Divination, as it was astral projection."
Dumbledore nodded his head. "Then you've certainly come to the right place. How can you be sure?"
Thinking back, she waited a bit before answering. "It was cold wherever I was, so I felt cold. And I felt the ground under my feet, and the texture of the trees. And, one of the two people, I, uh, saw, he looked straight at me like he could see me," she halted again, before shrugging. "I don't know, maybe it was all a dream. But it felt so real, and I can still remember all the details even now. I usually forget my dreams. Although…"
"Although what?"
Ginny blushed. "My dream, or vision or whatever it was, it suddenly switched to something that couldn't have possibly been real. There were people there, and weird things, and such. I think that part was a real dream."
"But you remember all the details about that too?" He asked.
Ginny thought of the almost-kiss with Malfoy. She remembered every millisecond of the dream, from first discovering the red dress to screaming at the sight of Tom. "Yes."
The old man pretended not to notice her discomfort as he stood from his desk, and walked around, finally stopping in front of the sleeping Fawkes. Back still to her, he started to speak. "I'm quite amazed," he said finally. "You really have accomplished astral projection. You see, most of the time, once the astral projection is over, the body reverts back to its sort of defense mechanism, which in this case was another dream. Or you just couldn't take the strain and fell asleep. But in either case, it was most definitely astral projection."
Ginny smiled widely; that meant that she could do it again and find out where they should go! Excitedly, she stood up. "So how can I do it again?"
He turned around now. "It's quite an inexact art. Chamomile tea should help, as would trying to clear your mind and focus on your destination before sleeping. But most of all, you must imagine that you need to be there. It's easier to do at night, than when awake. When you're conscious, the only thing that can make astral projection happen is a very strong will, but that doesn't even always work. And there's also a Calming Sleep powder Madame Pomfrey should have, I'll give you a note for it, as it's very potent," Dumbledore told her.
Ginny's grin widened even more, if possible. "Thank you, Headmaster, thank you so much!"
***
That night, after a nice, calming chat with Dragon, and a minute of repeating her goal, Ginny sat cross-legged on top of her bedcovers, before pouring the calming powder into her chamomile tea, and chugging it down quickly. She felt the effects soon after, and barely had time to crawl under the covers (it got quite chilly at night in Hogwarts) before she passed out.
Instantly, she was back in the clearing. She barely restrained a whoop of joy, before realizing that it might not be safe and ducking behind a tree. Ginny felt her heart pound against her ribcage; she was scared the noise was actually audible.
After a minute or so, which felt like hours to her, she peeked her head out. It was safe. Ginny came out from behind the tree, a bit nervously. She had no real clue how long the projection would last, Dumbledore had said it could be anywhere from fifteen seconds to fifteen hours.
A wind blew, hard, and Ginny shivered and cursed. She was still in her pajamas, and though it was flannel, it was no match for the weather of wherever she was. "I'm so stupid," she muttered before wrapping arms around herself, and beginning her search for clues.
It was hard work. She had no wand, because her projection was only strong enough for her body and her clothes. The broken ground dug into her bare feet, she started feeling numb from cold, and it was so dark she could hardly see her own hand in front of her face. And Ginny didn't even know what she was looking for, which made it that much harder.
Finally, when she was sure that her toes really were falling off, she stepped on something rather sharp and yelped. Heart racing now, Ginny knelt and searched for whatever it was frantically. That thing had felt sharp, sharper than wood or dirt could be. Suddenly, her fingers alighted on something smooth, and she leaned forward, squinting. It was some sort of brooch, or maybe a cloak pin. But she definitely knew that it was gold, and it had been dropped somewhat recently. She grinned happily. At last, she thought.
Standing, Ginny looked around. The strain of staying here for so long was taking its toll on her, and she knew that soon she'd either pass out or have to return home. Not that she was so clear on how to do that either.
"Now I just need to know where the hell I am…" she said to herself softly.
Ginny started off in one random direction, trying to remember which way she was going, but it was impossible. All the trees looked the same, and the sky, though getting lighter, was still dark, so she couldn't rely on constellations. Sighing, she quickened her pace. She was getting weaker at holding herself there, and if Ginny looked down, she could sometimes see her legs flicker out of focus. But she still trudged on.
When it looked like the sky was starting to get lighter, she finally saw what looked like a wooden sign. Ginny ran towards it happily. Once she reached it, she could have hit herself. Of course it was in another language! Squinting at the faded letters, she managed to recognize that it was in Russian (Aha! She thought. So at least I know the country), but she had no idea what it said.
Her legs were almost completely vanished now, and the dizziness and buzzing in her ears had increased. She frowned and set herself to memorizing the maddening letters. C, A, H, K, T, those were all fine, but the last ones were much worse. Something that looked a bit like the Roman numeral for two without the bottom, E, T, E, P, a six thing, then the letter Y, and two squiggles too faded to read clearly. Ginny chanted those over and over to herself, staring at the sign, till finally, the strain got too much, and she crumpled to the ground, still clutching the brooch as she faded back to her own bed in Hogwarts.
***
"Ginny! Ginny!! Wake up!!"
Ginny whimpered and fluttered her eyelids open. The vision of Aimee in front of her blurred, then split into two Aimee's, spinning clockwise around each other. That momentarily distracted her from the pounding aches all over her body, but once she remembered, Ginny groaned. Loudly. "Aimee, quit moving around and shrieking like that, I'm fine."
Her best friend sighed in relief before sitting on the bed. "Good, I got just a bit worried when I couldn't wake you up," said Aimee dryly. Still, Ginny could detect a bit of a quiver in her voice. "What happened to you anyways?"
Ginny felt a moment of panic. Dumbledore had warned her not to tell anyone unless it was absolutely necessary, and even then, to be very careful. "Uhh, I don't know, I guess I'm just tired and overworked, you know, with the project and everything." Even in her own ears, that sounded strained.
Aimee seemed to tell there was something Ginny was hiding. "Well, alright then, I guess." She brightened. "By the way, where are you and Malfoy going for the trip? We get to go to the States for ours!"
"Russia," she said with a mysterious half-smile. That quickly disappeared as she felt a pinch underneath her back. Surreptitiously sneaking a hand beneath herself, Ginny's hand wrapped met the now-warm metal of the brooch, and she gasped, sitting up. "Speaking of which, I gotta go. I have to meet Malfoy."
She got out of bed quickly, barely restraining a moan. Her bones felt like they had been pounded by hammers for hours, and Ginny felt like the bottoms of her feet had been scraped away entirely. It was not a good feeling. She shooed Aimee out with more feeble excuses, though her friend finally realized that there was something up and said she had to work too. Ginny wondered about her as she changed into some jeans and a sweater. No friendship could survive weeks of isolation and coldness unscathed, and even now, Ginny could feel the distance between them. At least they both had Colin to keep them together, thankfully.
Ginny stood and shrugged off those kind of thoughts. That wasn't what mattered right now. Now, she was just too happy that her dream had been real all along, and that she had both gotten the brooch and the knowledge of the location of the clearing.
"Speaking of location," she murmured, "I should really write down that nearby town or whatever it was on the sign." She grabbed a piece of parchment on a desk and tapped the quill against her teeth as she remembered. Ginny quickly wrote the characters down, but drew two blank spaces for the last two. She and Malfoy would just have to guess. She silently prayed he knew Russian, before running out the door.
***
Draco yawned widely, idly wondering if that popping in his jaw if he opened his mouth too wide was normal. Probably not, he reflected, but he was rather too tired to care. He yawned again, this time his mind reviewing Muggle TV shows (not that he'd ever admit watching them) of bugs flying into people's mouths as they slept. Draco promptly clapped his mouth shut. He didn't like bugs.
He was out on the empty Quidditch pitch, laying down on the grass and staring up at the near cloudless sky. One little thin wisp of white cloud passed by leisurely, and he tried in vain to make some sort of shape out of it, but all his mind could think of was a slug. Draco gave a faint pffft sort of snort, and shut his eyes, clearly intent on sleep.
Then he heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Damn it all to hell, no one ever bloody let him sleep. Just last night Crabbe had roused him at exactly three twenty-six A.M. to tell Draco, sniggering loudly, that he'd managed to stuff twenty bon bons into his mouth at once.
Again, the blonde boy had to wonder just why he surrounded himself with these people.
The footsteps got closer. "Who is it?" He called out crabbily, eyes still shut as he prayed it was some younger student who, realizing who had yelled, would run away. No such luck. His own personal demon, boggart, poltergeist or whatever he could think of, had to be the one to answer him.
"Malfoy! Get your fat arse up, I've got important news!" Weaselette yelled. Draco could swear her voice would haunt him for years following this project.
Grumbling, he opened his eyes and got up, lazily remarking, "My arse is not fat. See? Perfect, like the rest of me," here he flashed her a toothy grin and half turned to show off afore-mentioned butt.
She rolled her eyes. "Hardly," she retorted. "But enough of that, I really do have important news. I know the general area we have to go for our trip, and I have one piece of evidence that we'll need to review."
Draco immediately sobered. "So where are we going?"
"Well…it's somewhere in Russia, I'm pretty sure of that. But as for the exact location, that's what I need your help with. Can you read this?" Ginny asked desperately, thrusting the parchment with the letters under his nose.
He grabbed it, and blinked, studying the characters. Ginny hoped that maybe he was deciphering the letters. Finally, he remarked, "You know, I'm really beginning to wish I'd listened when Mother began pushing for those foreign language lessons."
"ERGH!" She shrieked. "This is useless, we'll never know where to go! We'll wander all over Russia and its FIFTEEN BLOODY TIME ZONES, and never find the clearing again!!!" The girl looked ready to cry.
Draco was so alarmed at her face that he dismissed what she had said about some clearing. "Listen, don't worry," he hurried to reassure her, "there's this girl I know in Ravenclaw, she owes me a favor and she's really smart. We can ask her." Ginny was already too far gone though, she had crumpled to the ground and her frame was racked with silent sobs. Instinctively, Draco knew it wasn't just this, it came back to much more in her life. And he wanted to help her.
"Hey, come on." He grabbed Ginny and pulled her up, holding her upper arms firmly as he talked to her. "Don't fall apart for little things like this, you've gotta save the meltdowns for big stuff," Draco told her with a slight smile. She sniffled a bit, shrugging, but it seemed his words had worked. She straightened and wiped at her eyes impatiently, and it was as if the breakdown had never occurred.
On the silent walk to the Ravenclaw common room, Draco remembered what she had said about evidence. "What's the evidence you wanted to show me?"
Her face lit up. "Oh I completely forgot! I haven't really gotten a good look at it either, so…" Ginny held out her open hand to show him the brooch. They both stopped just outside the castle doors, and he picked it up, examining it in the light. It was well made, definitely gold, looked to be quite old. He told her as much.
Ginny nodded. "I thought as much. Do you think your Ravenclaw will know anything about brooches?"
Draco smirked and shrugged. "Hey, we can ask."
***
"Draco! I haven't seen you in ages, what brings you to the Ravenclaw common room?" Kimura Yamamoto, his seventh year Ravenclaw friend, asked him, brown eyes sparkling. She didn't even bother asking how the boy got in.
It was almost deserted, so Ginny and Draco sat on the couch by the fire and near Kimura. Ginny eyed the older girl with something akin to respect. Her features were both warm and guarded as she talked to Draco, and Ginny could tell that he respected her too. It showed in their friendly banter.
"Oh, this, that and the other thing. I need to call in that favor you owed me," he told her.
Kimura made a face and put her bookmark in the textbook. "Damn, and here I was hoping you'd forgotten about that," she muttered.
He smirked. "Not a chance." They both smiled at each other, making Ginny wonder if there hadn't been something between the two before. For some reason, that thought annoyed her, and she coughed discreetly, breaking the connection.
Draco turned slightly and grabbed the parchment with the letters. "Can you tell us what this says? We don't know about the last two letters so you'll have to guess with tho-"
"Saint Petersburg," she interrupted smoothly. Draco blinked, and Kimura sighed before explaining. "It says Saint Petersburg in Russian. You know, the big city with all the bright lights and things?"
Ginny giggled at the expression on his pale face. "You shut up," he told her out of the corner of his mouth.
She just giggled louder, and Draco decided to ignore her. Well, as soon as she showed Kimura the other thing. "We've also found this brooch, and we need your help with it."
Ginny passed over the brooch. The Japanese girl frowned and slid on slim glasses, eyeing the jewelry thoroughly. She spoke after a long while. "It's an odd piece," she said finally. "Most of the pins like these were popular in the Middle Ages, but this looks to be much older, almost centuries so. It's real gold, in the shape of a crowned A pin."
"Crowned A?" Both Draco and Ginny asked at the same time.
Kimura put the brooch down and slid off her spectacles in an easy, practiced movement. "See the letter with a sort of crown over it? It stands for the Latin saying, 'Amor Vincit Omnia,' which means-"
"Love conquers all," Draco cut in with confusion. "But why would he have this? Isn't it more of a girl's thing?
She shrugged. "Hey, I have no idea about the why. I think that's more what you guys have to find out."
Draco scowled at Ginny. "Great, more mysteries and research," he muttered darkly. "You know, this is all your fault."
"My fault?" She shrieked, gaping. "Oh well sor-ry for wanting to do well on this dumb project, and risking my neck to find out information for us!"
"Risked you neck? How? What the hell's been going on? First you get all mysterious and convince me to pick Claydor as our vampire, which turned out badly, then you suddenly come out with all this information that make no sense! Explain, Weaselette!"
Kimura was watching them with interest, and Ginny noticed, face flaming with embarrassment and anger. "Not here and now," she murmured, standing and pulling him up and towards the door. "Goodbye, uhh, Kimura, was it? And thank you, but we've got to be going." She headed towards the exit, dragging a protesting Draco behind.
Kimura shook her head with silent mirth. After all, she had known Draco for a long time, and he was never one to be dragged out. Unless he wanted to be dragged, of course.
***
Once out of the Ravenclaw Common Room, Draco shook off her grip on his arm rather moodily.
"Let go Weasel, I don't need your germs contaminati-oh damn. The photo. Right, right, sorry," he muttered in disgust. "It's a hard habit to break, okay?"
She sighed. "Yeah, yeah I know. Oh, and for the record, if you can still call me Weaselette, I can call you Mal-Ferret."
Draco made a face as he considered. True, he hated that name, but it was preferable to having to call her Ginny. He shuddered inwardly at the thought and nodded slightly. Having completely forgotten his previous anger over all the secrets, he asked her, "So, what do we do now?"
She grinned. "Now, we go tell Professor Ivanovich that next Saturday, we're going to Saint-Petersburg." There was a flicker of something unplaceable in her eyes, but Draco ignored it, too excited about the upcoming trip.
He stood up. "Let's go, then," he said with a smirk.
The walk was completely silent, with both teens trying their best to stay on opposite sides of the hallway from each other. There was one instance, however, that crowds forced their forearms to touch for the slightest millisecond. Ginny pretended to gag inwardly.
Entering the classroom, Draco gave a knock on the door jamb with his knuckles. "Hello, Professor Ivanovich?"
He turned his dark head from the window he was looking out of, face in a moody scowl, but at the sight of his students Boris Ivanovich smiled. "Why hello Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Weasley. Here to talk about the research trip this Thursday?"
Draco nodded. "Yes, we'll be needing a Portkey to Russia, Saint Petersburg to be exact."
That smile stiffened for an instant, and it seemed so cold to Ginny. His eyes slid over her, before he finally nodded and looked down, hiding that cruel face. She shivered and tried to slide a bit behind Draco. "Alright, you'll be with the main group going to eastern Europe, then catching a private Portkey from there. May I ask why you've chosen Russia? I understood that Claydor is an English vampire," asked Ivanovich, shuffling some random papers as he sat at the big desk.
Draco glared at the girl behind him, motioning for her to be the one to explain. She opened her mouth, and her voice caught in her throat, before an idea struck. "It's a surprise!" Ginny told the older man cheerfully. "We don't want anyone to know before our paper is done. It should be absolutely fantastic! Well, Malfoy, come on, we'd better go work on our paper more! Bye Professor!!!" There, she thought with satisfaction as she dragged Draco away, that should keep him believing I'm the stupid ditz for a while.
Once outside, Draco burst out laughing. "'Absolutely fantastic?'" He mocked with a whoop of laughter.
She blushed crimson. "Shut up Ferret boy."
***
A bit short…but I didn't know what else to write. And as for the info on Russian, HA!! It's correct!! I stayed up insanely late but I found it!! *cackles maniacally, then howls as men in white jackets take her away*
Review!
