Breaking the Habit

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter…But I plan on it. :-D

–creepy music, thunder and lightning echo in background-

Chapter II:

Curious Inspections

"Somebody once asked could I spare some change for gas
I need to get myself away from this place
I said yep, what a concept, I could use a little fuel myself
And we could all use a little change"

-All Star

By: Smash Mouth

Draco awoke with a start and sat up. A small wet spot on his pillow said he had been drooling in his sleep –a frightfully disgusting habit, but one that couldn't be helped. How long have I been asleep? Must be evening by now… He was still in his day clothes and cloak, so, after running a hand over his hair, he strode out into the Common Room. A few third years were huddled on a long, luxurious emerald couch chattering amongst themselves, but upon his arrival they went quiet.

By now he had become used to their unbridled stares and lack of self-consciousness as they did so. With a trademark Malfoy sneer, he marched out and through the criss-crossing corridors until he came to the Great Hall, where he stopped. Cocking up one bleach white brow, he almost chuckled –almost. It came out as more of a low, choked sigh.

The Hall was jam packed with students eating their dinners. A habit he had picked up since the beginning of the school year was to come in and eat after the rush. That way, he didn't get nearly as many odd stares or provoking remarks. It was much less stressful. It was habitual for him now to avoid crowds, or large gatherings. Most of his summer he had wasted away in his own room and it showed: his normally pallid complexion was on the verge of being described as translucent, he was a good bit skinnier, and bags often collected under his eyes. His Mother had scolded him at first. Then she had fallen ill and was whisked away to St. Mungos.

Of course, as her son, he had noticed her thinning limbs and increasing pallor over the summer before his sixth year, but then didn't realize the reason behind it and regarded it, as Father had dismissed, as her problem. Immediately after Dumbledore's death he was sent home and returned to find her even weaker then before –and his father's unexpected leave hadn't helped in the slightest. It was about mid-summer before he had finally persuaded her to speak with a doctor.

The local doctor they had spoken to sent her to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries and from there on her illness got worse. The doctors never said a word about what it was that she'd come down with. By the time school had started up again much of the Malfoy fortune had been wasted away on hospital bills -some of it his own inheritance money. And yet the damn doctors didn't tell him what hell was wrong with her.

He clenched and unclenched his fists from under his robe.

No emotion…no emotion. Malfoys do not allow themselves to be swayed by emotion. I am a Malfoy. Despite his thoughts from earlier in the dorm, he repeated the phrase over and over again in his mind. Like a blanket of security, the phrase washed over him, and with a long, heavy sigh he banished away any and all of the troublesome feelings: love, compassion, sadness, fear, and anger so that nothing remained but the terribly familiar stony nothingness.

"Oi, Ferret, mind not standing in the doorway?" A cynical voice echoed from behind. He rolled his eyes and spun around, locking gazes with Ronald Weasel, Saint Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger the filthy Mudblood. Weasley was the one who had spoken.

His eyes narrowed. "I'll stand wherever I want, Weasel King," He sneered, giving each one a deathly glare, and stalked off to his own table. Following him, he could hear the butt of another comment, this one suspiciously sounding like Potter: "Where's your buddies, Crabbe and Goyle?" This one he ignored. Why did I even come back here? I should have stayed at the manor, however lonely it may've been. I mean, its not like there's much worthy company here.

He ate the rest of his meal in peace. But as he stood up to leave, a paper on the edge of Slytherin table caught his eye; yesterday's issue of the Daily Prophet.

The article on the front page was titled: 'DARK WIZARDS SIGHTED NEAR LONDON. YOU-KNOW-WHO SAID TO BE CLOSE BY.' His brow furrowed, and he flipped through to the page and skimmed:

'Reports fly in about dark wizard activity in the muggle suburbs of London's outskirts…You-Know-Who expected to be in the area…Evacuations are in order…Aurors fly to the scene…'

He scratched his head, unsure of whether or not he should be feeling happy, angry, or sad. In reality, he felt none of those emotions. He felt indifference. With a flick of his wrist the paper fell onto the floor in a cluttered heap, and he rose and exited the Great Hall. Maybe he should write to Mother…tell her he was okay –not that he would have said anything more, Malfoy's never, ever exposed weaknesses- just so she wouldn't worry.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

When Ginny and Luna came inside to eat it was almost dark. The sun was already diving into the mountains and a crisp, cool breeze nipped at her arms. With one last look at the grounds, she and her friend disappeared inside.

They parted ways in the Great Hall; Luna to the Ravenclaw table, and she to Gryffindor. But almost immediately, she wished she hadn't even come in. As her eyes swerved over the house table, they caught on three distinct heads. A bushy brown one, a red one much like her own, and a disheveled black one.

Ron spotted her and waved for her to come over. Hermione –seated one Ron's right- didn't look up at her and neither did Harry. Typical. Frowning, she laced her arms together and marched over, suddenly immersed once more into her former foul mood. Didn't they know by now never to anger a Weasley more than necessary? That doing so would bring unmerciful pain and suffering? That it could be suicidal! No, no, no, they just couldn't leave well enough alone. They had to push. And push, and push, and push.

And then they blamed her for losing her temper. Bah.

"Gin," He brother started slowly, "I think you misunderstand us still…and…" He trailed off.

Harry cut in. "And we want you to know we don't think you're weak or anything like that. We decided that it wasn't safe for you to be with us." She glowered at the ebony-haired boy -who visibly flinched. Her first response was to stomp, her second to claw at her hair.

"No! No!" She snarled, "You lie! I'm just as strong as any other person! You say it's dangerous, Harry, and yet you let Ron and Hermione come along! I-"

"Ginny, stop being thickheaded!--" Hermione finally spoke, lifting her gaze from her turkey. She growled. "I am not being thickheaded! You all-" Rounding back on Harry, her train of thought changed, "-I fancied myself in love with you, Harry. But now I couldn't care less!"

She whipped around on the balls of her feet and stamped off. She wasn't normally like this –loud, crude, and rude- but for some reason those three recently had just brought out the Weasely Woman Rage within her. She'd seen Mum explode before, and a few other aunts and grandmothers, but never thought that that temper was inside her.

I hate myself when I'm angry. I wish I could just let it all go over my head and stay the quiet, calm Ginny everyone knows and loves. But I can't, and that makes me even angrier. Grrrr! I just can't win! Thoughts swam through her mind as she thundered down the corridor and up three flights of stairs, shouted "Tomituli!" at the Fat Lady, burst into the Gryffindor Common Room, and fled back to her dormitory.

She didn't mean to be hateful to them, Hermione and Harry especially. It just came out…she couldn't stop the words from coming from her mouth when she was angry like that. And Ron, poor thing, had enough to deal with anyway. It had to be hard on him –being the best friend of The-Boy-Who-Lived and always in his shadow. She admired him for his nobility towards the situation and she knew that he had more nobility than someone higher up in the social class –like Malfoy.

She took a running leap at her bed, pulled the curtains around her, landed face down into her pillow, and screamed into it. No one else was in the dormitory room; all her roommates were out somewhere. Pounding her fists into the mattress, she groaned furiously. Fidgeting, growling, kicking (with some difficulty), more punching, and more screaming followed until finally she was enveloped in a restless doze. In her light sleep she heard her roommates come in one by one and fall asleep. She saw the lights flicker off through her eyelids and eventually heard the even breaths of her sleeping friends.

She stayed still. In time her anger dissipated like autumn leaves in a brisk, vigorous autumn wind and she breathed easy again. But her eyes and body and mind wouldn't allocate sleep, and with a frown she regretted taking that nap outside with Luna. Rolling over in bed, she sat up and ran one of her hands through her hair. With a gentle, quiet tug the curtains adjoined to her bed were pulled away and moonlight from the window came pouring, causing her to blink ferociously.

What time is it? She wondered, It must be late, the moon's already really high.

A sudden loud, roaring growl ricocheted in the silence of the sleeping dormitory and she jumped and withheld a yelp before realizing it was her own stomach. Eh? What? Oooooh, right. I didn't eat dinner…

She smiled cheekily to herself, remembering her second outburst for the day. Silently, she slipped across the room in bare feet and clambered down the steps and into the Common Room. It too was empty. She took a couple hurried steps toward the portrait hole, then stopped and started pacing.

I could go to the kitchens and nab something…But I don't want to get caught by Filch! But I'm really hungry…Oh, bother, I'm going anyway and Filch can just go burn somewhere if he finds me.

The corridors were empty, dark, and ghostly. Her feet were cold and she was too. She held her wand at arm's length, intending to hex the next thing that popped out in front of her into oblivion. Her heart thumped crazily in her throat and when she tried to swallow, she gagged.

Never before had she been out in the school after hours alone and, as Fred and George had told her, it was creepy. She knew the ghosts wouldn't harm her (Peeves, however, couldn't be trusted) and that the only thing she had to really worry about was the fear of being caught by Filch, a professor, or a Prefect.

After many long, mocking minutes ticked by she arrived at the fabled fruit picture and gave the pear a timid scratch with her finger. To her surprise, it wiggled, and the picture revealed a hidden door.

Ten minutes later she exited, giggling softly to herself while shoving the last of a pasty into her mouth. A large, big-eyed head popped out before she closed the door. "Mimmi wishes Ginny a good-night, yes!" The house-elf squeaked and then the door closed. Ginny smiled again and rubbed away the remains from her mouth. Now she knew why Harry had gone on about Dobby like he did; the little elf was about as sane as a Mad-Eye Moody after ten tequilas.

She smiled again and shook her head. This was a mistake (that and watching the floor) because no sooner than she rounded a corner she slammed against something warm and moving.

She yelped and sprang back.

"Dammit, Weaselette, watch where you're going." A familiar snide voice said. She jumped back, startled, and rose to meet the eyes of the insulter. Draco Malfoy. He was much taller than she remembered and had a sneer marked all over his face. Pieces of hair were falling out of the gelled mass he called hair. In his hand there was an envelope.

She jerked her chin up and glared defiantly, prepared for a verbal battle. "Maybe you should watch where you're going, Ferret. Last time I checked you had eyes to see and legs to move."

"Think you're funny, do you?" He replied nastily, but before she could formulate a retort of her own he had disappeared down the hall with a swish of his cloak, leaving her standing there confused and open-mouthed.

Did Malfoy just turn down a chance to mouth me off? Insult my family? Insult me? Something must be terribly wrong with that boy…At least it's a change for the better. I hope.

The next morning, Ginny awoke to hushed voices.

"I heard its happening today!"

"Shh…! Ginny's still asleep."

"Sorry, Jaclyn. Anyway, I heard that Harry Potter is leaving Hogwarts!"

A series of 'Blimey's and 'No way's followed. She opened her eyes slowly, and peeked through a gap in her curtains. Her roommates Anne Marcoh, Jaclyn Seriani, and Mercedes Azure were all sitting cross-legged on Jaclyn's bed –still in their nightgowns. She saw Anne lean forward. "For good?"

Jaclyn shook her head. "No, from what I overheard it's business that deals with You-Know-Who."

"Is he going alone?" Mercedes, a tan-skinned girl from Spain, asked. Jaclyn shrugged and then after a pause shook her head. "I doubt it. The Granger girl and the Weasley bloke are probably going with him."

"Don't they go everywhere with him?" Anne's voice held a tone of disdain in it.

"They do! They really do! It's like Harry Potter's twin shadows or something!"

There was a moment of silence, and just as she pushed to get up, Mercedes' voice stopped her dead in her tracks. "Jesus, that means that Harry Potter has been to the Weasley home!"

"Well, of course you silly gits, now can't you take this conversation elsewhere? There are people trying to sleep in here!" Ginny said, loudly, feigning a yawn. The look on the three girls' faces was priceless. She picked up some clothes and before Jaclyn left with the rest of them, Ginny called, "Hey, Jaclyn, do you know when they're leaving?"

The black girl froze in the doorway. "They're in the Common Room now. That's why we were talking in here!" Even though she wasn't very close with any of her roommates (most of her years she had been tailing after Ron, Harry, and Hermione), she bade Jaclyn a thank you and a promise to see her later.

While changing, Ginny's mind ran over several questions and thoughts: How long were they going to be gone? Is it safe? What will they do afterwards? Will they come back? Are they going to speak to me if she's there saying goodbye? How will Harry respond to her after that comment yesterday? Who will she talk to when they're gone? How many questions will she get while they're gone?

The last of which had an immediate answer: A hell of a lot!

Fully dressed, she found the trio in the Common Room surrounded by a sea of Gryffindor well-wishers. All three had a sack slung over their shoulders, and Harry had his broom. It was obvious that Ron and Hermione –especially her- were planning on Apparating as far as they could. Ginny suspected Hermione had a fear of heights.

Finally, after pushing through the soup-thick crowd, Ginny arrived before (ironically) Harry. The 'Boy Wonder' flashed her a timid smile. She had expected something like that from him. "Are you really leaving today?"

Harry blanched, and she suspected it was because of her straightforwardness. But he recovered and frowned. "Yeah. We got a message last night from Lupin. They reckon they've found one of the Horcruxes."

She nodded and waved nonchalantly. "Bye then."

The next person she came to was Ron, whom she gave a quick hug. "Good luck, Ron." She said briskly, and then disappeared before he could get a second word in. Or even a first, at that matter. Hermione too, blanched, as Ginny came up to her but she smiled breathlessly and waved.

"Good morning, Ginny. I suppose you know we're…leaving today?" There was a hint of reproaching in the seventh year's voice. Ginny frowned and nodded. "I came to wish you good luck –though with you three's record I doubt you'll need it. With a ghost of a smile on her face, she darted off into the boys dormitory staircase to check and see if her brother had forgotten anything. The room was empty (Dean and Seamus she had already seen in the Common Room) and she quickly spotted Harry's suitcase lying open at the foot of his bed. There was nothing but dirty socks and underwear in it and –no, wait…parchment?

Frowning curiously, she crossed over to the trunk and picked up the paper. Her mouth dropped open in an 'o'. She knew what this was! Ron had shown her once! Slipping her wand from her robes pocket, she tapped the parchment lightly. She spoke flippantly and slowly, unsure of the outcome.

"I solemnly swear…I am…up to no…good?"

The parchment came alive.