Ginny woke up the next morning curled up in the same armchair, her hair plastered to her sweaty cheeks and dribble trickling out the side of her mouth. Her neck was so stiff she had to massage it into movement. She checked the time and realized with a jolt how late she was for breakfast.
Gathering her books and stuffing them into her satchel, she cast a quick cleaning spell over her teeth and face to get rid of the morning breath. As she washed her hands after nipping to the toilet, she caught sight of the crimson rat's nest that was supposed to represent her hair. She had to look away again and straighten her wrinkled robes as best as she could.
"I saved you a piece of toast," Hermione said cheerfully as Ginny skidded into the Great Hall. She scarfed down her breakfast, made sure all the students in detention had attended and sprinted down to the dungeons for her first class of the day: double potions with Slytherin house.
"Morning, Miss Weasley," Beckett called out as Ginny stumbled into the dank, musty classroom. "You're just on time!"
Ginny nodded, panting a little at the door. She noticed the odd pairings at every desk; emerald green against deep ruby. Every Gryffindor student had a Slytherin counterpart.
"Why don't you take a seat right there, dear?" Beckett told Ginny, pointing to the only empty table. Ginny collapsed onto it, pleased that she wouldn't have to share with anyone else.
"Apologies, Professor Beckett, for my tardiness," came a masculine drawl from behind her.
"Ah, Mr Malfoy. That's quite alright. Pop yourself down next to Miss Weasley, please."
Careful footsteps clicked their way over the dungeon floor.
"Nice hair," Malfoy whispered to Ginny. "You look like you've walked out of a hurricane."
If looks could kill, the one Ginny sent Malfoy was lethal.
Beckett began chalking out the ingredients required for a pepper-up potion. The class buzzed with the sound of students swapping tips and arguing over instructions.
"You manage to finish your letter last night?" Ginny hissed, thumping her pewter cauldron onto the desk as obnoxiously as she could.
"I'm not great with quill and ink," Malfoy replied, level and even. He pulled out his own cauldron; a sparkling one made of solid silver. "Use mine. It helps simmer the ingredients faster."
Livid, Ginny wrenched her pot off the surface.
"Open your books to page six, please," Beckett piped up. Her eye glowed eerily in the dim dungeon light, like a tiny floating moon. "And Mr Malfoy and Miss Weasley - you two will be each other's partners for the rest of the term."
Ginny groaned aloud and rested her forehead on the side of their workspace to take a deep breath.
"Don't look too excited," Malfoy said, pulling roots and vials of cloudy liquid from his supply bag.
Ginny twisted on the desk, glaring at him through lidded eyes.
"At least pretend not to be disgusted with me, Weasley." He sounded tired.
"And lie to our dear, impressionable doves?" Ginny smirked at the tic in his jaw.
"Don't think that just because we managed not to hex each other into oblivion yesterday I've suddenly decided to be amicable," Malfoy spat. "Because I assure you, I don't plan on it."
Ginny was extra careful to spray Malfoy with billywig juice as she crushed one for the broth. She snickered as he scrambled away to rinse his robes.
"Miss Weasley? Could you possibly run to my personal stores and fetch some moonwater?" Beckett requested. Ginny rose to the door that opened up into the storerooms and ignored Malfoy's burning glare from the sinks on the other side of the dungeon.
She made her way down a thin corridor with several other doors lined down the sides of it. A few pieces of stone were missing in the walls, blasted away with spells from the Battle. Ginny felt her throat go gummy and hands clam up.
Bloodtraiterfilthybloodtraitorpigfouldisgustingworthless-
Cold, cold Colin. Scared, cold, dead Colin-
"I can't be with you, Ginny."
Burning, burning in her arm, burning in the castle, everything burning-
Ginny steadied herself on the wall, breathing in and out in ones and twos.
She had been fine. She had done so well the past few days, not a single episode, not one breakdown.
(She refused the think about Malfoy's concerned grey eyes, there when she sniffled on the floor that first day, his presence that seemed to distract her from the constant battle waging itself in her mind)
"The war's over, Ginny."
Right.
She stumbled into the room labelled 'Potions Master' and blinked at how far it stretched. Scores of shelves clanked with glass bottles. The walls were plastered with clippings from newspapers, as well as handwritten poultice recipes and tips on brewing. Right at the end of the room, an enormous array of diagrams coated the wall. They looked frequently consulted.
Ginny edged her way between the aisles and caught sight of the biggest poster. It was the unmistakable diagram of the body of a thestral.
Every picture and every paper was about thestrals - their physical traits, behavioural patterns, magical features, magical history… it was like a museum. And it was one of the strangest things Ginny had ever seen.
A sudden crash jolted Ginny out of her daze and sent her heart leaping into her throat. She pressed herself against a shelf of pickled beetle's eyes, whipping out her wand and clutching it to her chest.
Glass crackled under somebody's foot, and slow, laboured steps scraped against the ground.
"Who's there?" came the rasp of Gerry Tungstern. Ginny screwed her eyes shut. Her fingers were so tight around her wand, the skin of her knuckles almost split in two.
She watched his hulking form lumber between the shelves, a large jar clutched in his good hand. His eyes swivelled and the colour drained from Ginny's face like a plug being pulled.
He had seen her.
"Weasley?" Tungstern was astonished. Ginny's lower lip trembled. He stared at her through the gap in the shelf. "What are you doin' here?!"
"M-moonwater." She glanced down at his jar but he slid it into his jacket before she could get a good look. His face was murderous. Sweat gathered under Ginny's arms.
"You saw nothing," he whispered, a wild edge to his voice. Ginny nodded vigorously. Tungstern turned, trying to conceal the jar further. "You saw nothing, you hear?" he hissed again, more urgently.
"Y-yes, sir."
"If anyone finds out-" He paused, clenching his fist. "If anyone finds out that I was here, there will be consequences. Do you understand?"
Ginny nodded so hard she was afraid her neck would snap off.
"Good." He gave her another long, hard look and rushed out of the room.
Ginny collapsed to the floor, her head in her hands.
xxx
"Hermione."
"… not sure if that's really the wisest course of action to take-"
"Hermione."
"… no, no, not confunda, confundo, what on earth was he thinking-"
"Hermione!"
"… just give me one second-"
Hermione spun on her chair. The wild look dancing in her eyes mirrored the flames of the common room fireplace.
"What, Ginny?" A tendril of bushy hair escaped from behind her ear.
Ginny tensed up, not at all used to Hermione's sudden shortening of temper. It had been getting worse and worse as the weeks went on, a combination of pining for Fred, the absence of her best friends - Ron and Harry -
(Ginny bit the inside of her cheek, drawing blood, focusing on the coppery taste and only that) -
-and the stress of NEWTs that Ginny refused to open herself up to.
"I need to talk to you about something important." Ginny clasped her hands and mentally kicked herself for being so cumbrous.
"I'm a little busy at the moment, Ginny, if you haven't noticed," Hermione said. "Some other time, okay?"
Ginny's heart sank. "Please, this is really important." She sat down abruptly next to her classmate on the armchair and grabbed her wrist. "Something weird happened in Potions the other day… DADA too..."
Hermione drew in a deep breath and snatched her hand out of Ginny's grip.
"Some other time," she repeated, only seeming a little regretful. Betrayal slammed into Ginny's chest like a rogue bludger.
"Hermione, please -"
"I need to help with Aaron's tutoring, Gin. Let it go."
"You don't understand-"
Hermione pursed her lips. "Leave it."
Ginny's eyes stung. It felt like a rug had been snatched out from under her feet.
"Hermione, it's Fred. Oh, Merlin. Please, help-"
Rubble the same colour as the grey, thunderous skies rained down on the courtyard. Ginny's hair was so matted with dirt that the trademark Weasley red was barely legible. In her lap, a different kind of red pooled over her brother's temple.
"Hermione, I can feel his breathing getting slower-"
Hermione rushed toward them in a whirlwind of bandages and spells. She cradled Fred's body in her hands, murmuring incantations over his wounds and levitating stones off his crushed legs and arms.
"When did you find him?" she asked Ginny in a voice that made her literally snap to attention.
"Just now, there was a wall, it fell right on top of him. I moved the smaller stones but I was disarmed and I can't find my wand-"
Hermione wasn't registering Ginny's frantic words. Her lips moved only to command spells from the tip of her wand.
"Is he going to be okay? Please tell me he's going to be okay."
Tracks appeared on Hermione's skin as sweat trickled through the dust. She chanted loudly and fervently, a gentle hum of healing charms reverberating in the air.
"FRED!"
George Weasley's scream ripped Ginny's soul in two. His footsteps pounded on the ground and he tumbled down next to his twin, sobs wracking his chest.
"Fred, you idiot, what did you DO?"
Five horrible minutes went by. Ginny and George wept in each other's arms, no longer caring about the battle raging around them.
Until-
"Forge?"
George looked up, blinking tears from his eyes. "Gred?" he asked in disbelief.
"Fred?" Ginny gasped.
"Ginny!" George cried.
"Hermione?" Ginny said, turning to her friend.
"Fred?" Hermione hiccuped.
"Hermione?" Fred mumbled.
Three hours later, the entire family stood around Fred's makeshift hospital bed in the Great Hall, laughing and crying at the miracle of Hermione's healing. She sat by Ginny's brother in the only chair available, fussing with his medicines and stroking his hair. Fred stared up at her in a coma-like state of awe, as if she were an angel sent from above.
And even through her blinding joy, Ginny felt something cruel prick at her heart when Fred smiled at Hermione and kissed her hand. When Fred ignored her hugs and chatter. When Hermione brushed off Ginny's tears and thanks to take care of Fred and ignore Ginny.
"Earth to Ginny Weasley?" Neville called out, chuckling and shaking her shoulder. Ginny growled and wrenched herself away. Her face felt numb and cold.
"Gin, it's not you. It's… us."
Ginny didn't know where he feet where taking her as she ran, eyes streaming, down the corridor to the astronomy tower, but she knew she had to get away.
xxx
"So, in short, you found Gerome Tungstern sneaking around Beckett's potions store without permission, you found him stealing from said potions store, and when he saw you there with him he threatened you with unspeakable horrors. Also, he wants to coach you at quidditch in return for... information."
"Don't be a twit," Ginny grumbled. "But yes, in short, that's what happened."
Malfoy's eyebrows shot straight up into his hairline. His lip twitched with amusement. "And why should I believe you?"
"Because, one, I couldn't make this up even if I tried, and, two, why on earth would I talk to you about it if it wasn't something serious?"
"Why would you talk to me about it at all?" Malfoy asked in one of his more delicate drawls. "I'm under the impression that you… well, aren't so thrilled with my person, to put it lightly. Don't you have friends to talk to?"
"I'm not exactly thrilled with my friends at the moment, either," Ginny snapped. "I just thought… I don't even know what I thought."
Malfoy leaned back on the settee, his eyes a glittering black in the dim night gloom. "Let me guess. You thought I'd understand more than they would."
"No need to say it like that, ferret."
Malfoy ignored her, steepling his hands beneath his chin.
"Well… do you have anything to say?" asked Ginny, a little hurt. "I just told you, Draco Malfoy, something that could potentially put me in danger."
"Maybe what I have to say will put you in more danger." His voice was dark and slick, like fresh ink. Ginny shuddered. Then, "I don't think I've ever heard you say my first name before," he said in a strange sort of afterthought. "I quite prefer it to the way you say 'Malfoy' like it's a curse word."
Ginny wasn't really sure what to do with that information.
"What do you have to say, Malfoy?" she said, spitting as much venom into it as possible.
He leaned forward conspiratorially. "What if I told you that I'm not exactly surprised at Professor Tungstern's behaviour?"
"Why wouldn't you be?"
"He was a Death Eater, my dear weaselette," Malfoy smirked. "I spent my fair share of time around the likes of him."
Ginny's ears perked up. "So you spied on him?"
"I spied on everyone," Malfoy scoffed. "Gerry Tungstern was no exception."
"Has he done anything suspicious like this before?" Ginny questioned anxiously. "Do you know if he was involved in any of Voldemort's schemes?"
"He was nobody special. More of a soldier than anything significant. Riots, kidnapping, snatching and the like."
"Then why is he prying around the Head of Potions' personal stores?" Ginny asked.
"I don't know, but I don't like it. And I have half a mind to find out why." The resolve in his tone set Ginny's heart pumping wildly.
"What do you mean? Are you going to… ask him?"
Malfoy observed her like she was something particularly smelly he'd caught on the bottom of his shoe. "Ask him?"
"I mean, use your connections, you know, from the War and stuff. Return a favor, or-"
"Stop bumbling, it's idiotic."
Ginny snapped her mouth shut and clenched her fists by her sides.
"Gerome Tungstern is a simple but slippery type. He looks out for himself and no one else. I don't see how stealing potion ingredients is at all beneficial to him, but there must be something behind it. Thank you for informing me about this, Weasley." He stood up in his seat, as if making to leave in his usual bombshell fashion.
"No, no, no, not so fast." Ginny got up to block his way to the door. "What makes you think you can just assume responsibility for something I told you and then walk away with it?"
Malfoy raised an eyebrow and took a step closer. "Why tell me in the first place if you don't want me to get involved?"
"I was looking for intel, not a bloody investigation. Godric."
"And how did you plan on using my intel, then?"
Ginny opened her mouth to answer and closed it again, feeling daft. She hadn't thought that far when taking the stupid, reckless decision of telling Malfoy about her encounter in the dungeons.
"I thought as much. Good night, weasel."
"Wait!"
Malfoy halted in his tracks but didn't turn around. "What?"
"What if we…"
He spun on his heel, expression unintelligible in the glow of the dying embers. "What?"
"What if we decided to work together?"
Malfoy began to laugh - a cold, piercing sound that made Ginny uncomfortable.
"Work… together?" he wheezed.
Ginny bristled. "Never mind, forget I even asked. You're a complete waste of my time."
Malfoy regained composure after a couple more hoots. "Were you proposing that we investigate Tungstern as a team?"
"Why is that so funny to you? I was being genuine!" Ginny's hands began to shake, the desire to punch Malfoy right in the ugly nose taking over her senses.
"It's funny because I know for a fact that you would rather endure an Unforgivable than work with me," Malfoy said, all traces of humour evaporating. "I know that because that's what you did."
Bloodtraiterfilthybloodtraitorpigpatheticexcuseforawitchfouldirtypig-
Cold grey eyes watching the knife carve its burning, agonizing words into her arm-
Worthlessdirtytraitorshameonwizardsshameshametraitorfilthypig-
His face blank, unreadable as Bellatrix flicked her wand and brought on a whole new pain, a pain that made her want to shrivel up and wither away into the oblivion, a pain that sliced into her again and again and again, drawing no blood but sending her limbs into spasm -
"I didn't know you were a spy then, alright?" Ginny cried hotly, shame curling in her stomach at the tears that stung her eyes. "I didn't know that what you offered me was true."
"I'm on your side, Ginevra." Malfoy's eyes were so wide that the whites glittered in the gloom of her cell. It was one of the libraries at Malfoy Manor, swirling with clouds of dust that made Ginny's throat scratch. The sound of the Death Eaters and snatchers crowing on the other side of the wall shook Ginny to the core.
"Let me help you get out. You're not supposed to be here. It isn't part of the plan."
Ginny shook her head. Terror had rendered her paralyzed. Her tongue was so thick she could hardly speak. "Liar. You're just trying to trick me. You're leading Bellatrix right to me."
"NO!" His protest grew fierce and he grabbed her hand. She pulled back as if burned. "I'm going to get you out of here."
"Who are you working for?" The syllables fell deadpan from her mouth. She looked everywhere and nowhere all at once. "You're lying to me. You filthy liar."
"But I told you. Didn't I?" Malfoy asked, as devoid of emotion as Ginny had been. "I told you where my loyalties lie. I told you it was all a sham. Didn't I, Ginevra?"
Ginny recoiled at the use of her name.
"I don't believe you."
"You have to, Ginny!" he pleaded, reaching for her hand again, grabbing thin air. "If you don't, Bellatrix will kill you. I work for Dumbledore. I'm a spy for the Order. Everything I've done is part of that act."
Ginny still refused to look at him.
"If you don't come with me now, Bellatrix WILL kill you. She'll torture you till you're begging for death." He wheezed in a breath. The frantic movements of his chest were almost believable. "You'll beg like I'm begging you to believe me now. Please, Ginny. Come with me."
"I didn't believe you," she whispered, staring down at the carpet.
There was a pause before Malfoy spoke.
"Exactly."
Ginny had finally raised her eyes to spit at Malfoy, right between the eyes. "I'd rather die than go with you."
Die, she almost did. Bellatrix did get her. And Malfoy watched as she tortured Ginny, cut the words 'blood traitor' into her arm so she'd never forget them. Watched impassively as Ginny begged for mercy like Malfoy begged her to believe him. Watched with his blank face, his emotionless expression, his veiled features. Watched and only watched when the Order rescued her.
Ginny didn't expect to still see him in the room when she looked up in present day.
"You have just put me in the same exact position I put you in last year," Malfoy said. "And last year, you chose torture over the truth I supplied. Why, now, should I take up the same offer you refused?"
"Because the circumstances now are different to how they were back then," Ginny mumbled. "Things are different now."
"You talk of 'back then' as if it were a long time ago. But it isn't, is it? Not for you, at least. It's still raw."
Tears splashed in wet puddles down her cheeks. She wiped them hastily with the sleeve of her robes. They both considered the weight of what Malfoy would say next.
"Fine. I accept. We will work as a team to get to the bottom of this Tungstern issue," he said quietly, as if the words pained him. "I have reason to believe this issue is bigger than our feud, and that we are the most qualified to deal with it. But that doesn't mean I'm doing this to help you. I'm doing this for… what's the expression? The greater good."
Relief felt odd on Ginny's shoulders - a weight she wasn't used to giving up. "I - thank you. Malfoy. I, um, appreciate it," she said, not meeting his eye. It cut up her mouth, but she swallowed it down anyway.
"If we're going to do this, we have to set up some rules," he announced, disregarding her gratitude.
"What kind of rules? I think I know my way around investigating bad guys, Malfoy."
"Not as well as I do," he retorted. "But I'm talking about working together. Without a functional team nothing will get done. We can start by abandoning the use of insulting names."
"Like what, 'ferret'?" Ginny sniggered. "I didn't realize that insulted you, Malfoy. I would've used it more often."
"Oh, and try and use each other's first names. It's much more professional," he added smoothly.
"Okay then, Draco," Ginny said. She couldn't help but grin despite how wet her cheeks were.
"Excellent, Ginevra," Malfoy replied, grinning even wider.
"I have a rule," Ginny said. "Don't Ginevra me. The only person that calls me Ginevra ismy Great Aunt Tessie. And stop being a pompous git."
Malfoy rubbed his hand over his forehead. "Then you stop being an insufferable nuisance. We can't have everything in life. Ginevra."
Ginny pulled a face at him. "We tell each other everything we see and find in this team. And we don't tell lies. No hiding things and no keeping information to yourself. Okay?"
"What are you worried about, Ginny?" Malfoy snickered. "That I'll steal your thunder when I land Tungstern in Azkaban?"
Ginny rolled her eyes. "You'll be eating my dust, Draco."
"We have to do things efficiently and professionally. No bickering or squabbling," Malfoy offered.
"Head duties always come first, though. And don't tell anyone. None of your Slytherin goons, no teachers, not even your family. This is a private investigation."
"How about we just get along for the purpose of the inquiry only?"
"Deal."
They shook on it. Malfoy's hands were warmer than Ginny expected. She'd always imagined him as frigid and icy. The sure, oddly comforting grip of his seeker's fingers in hers proved otherwise. Maybe if she'd let him hold her hand in the cell, she wouldn't have the blood-stained tattoo on her arm for the rest of her life. But Ginny knew not to dwell on it. Mostly.
"Good night, partner," she said as she closed the door to make her way to the dormitories, trying to shake off the pleasant feeling of his calluses on her palm.
"Don't flatter yourself," Malfoy snorted. But there was a small smile on his face as he gazed into the fire.
Dear Ginny,
I do hope you are reading my letters. I know how selfish this sounds, but it would make me feel so much better to know. You don't have to, though. Obviously. I deserve to be inflicted with all the pain in the world. You don't have to bother writing back. It's not your responsibility. But I hope you're doing well and are enjoying life at dear old Hogwarts.
Sua is teaching me WSL, would you believe that?! Apparently wizarding sign language differs in dialect from place to place, but you can generally understand it from basic training. Ron and I found out a bit too late that we required it for the Academy before entering, but it seems to be coming along smoothly.
Ron must be telling you all about his adventures, but I'm sure he left out this one in his last few owls. Basically, him and Hannah were given a field assignment and they had to go undercover as a newly married couple. You can't even imagine Ron's excitement… A couple of warlocks were getting suspicious of them because they were bickering and fighting and just acting like Hannah and Ron, i.e. NOT like a newly married couple. To throw them off the scent, Ron grabbed Hannah and snogged her so hard that the warlocks, I KID YOU NOT, walked off and left their illegal magical artefact behind them in disgust! Ron and Hannah aren't on speaking terms at the moment. You can be the judge as to why.
I miss you, Ginny. I miss chatting to you and joking around as mates. Because we really were good mates. I wish we'd go back to how it was before we were together. But I know it can't go back to how it was. So stay safe and enjoy your week. Give my love to Hermione and tell her I'm sorry but it's kind of impossible to give her a second-to-second review of my week.
And good news - Ron sends his greetings to her too.
Yours Sincerely,
Harry Potter
P.S. don't tell Ron I told you about the snogging incident. He's just bought a bag of dungbombs and I'm supposed to be going for a fancy dinner soon. You know how he is.
Ginny hated October.
It was wet. It was chilly. It stank of damp, rotting leaves. And it was the first month of the official Quidditch training season. Meaning her newly formed Gryffindor team was even worse than the annual 'Enchanted Broomstick' Weasley family game played every year in the pouring rain, blindfolded.
"To the left, Darby, to the left. No, your other left!" Ginny yelled over the roaring wind.
A dismal-looking fourth year swerved shakily due right on his broom, crashing into the newly-appointed seeker, Ursula Pond, and sending them both tumbling to the ground in a groaning muddy heap.
Ginny hated October.
Adding to her troubles, the Halloween ball was looming closer and closer every day.
Malfoy - Draco - had discussed a couple of ideas with her in their shared study quarters, but no solid plan had been decided.
They hadn't mentioned the name of Tungstern, either. After their impromptu decision to spy on their professor, Ginny wasn't sure if it was good or bad for them not to have a reason to begin their investigation.
"Everybody, touch down," Ginny bellowed, sticking her wand against her throat and magnifying her voice with an amplifying charm. The team obeyed, nosediving to the slick grass of the Quidditch pitch and standing to attention.
"I understand that you're all nervous for the upcoming season," Ginny shouted. She began pacing back and forth in front of the line of shivering, scarlet-clad players. "After everything this school has been through, no one expects us to have a shining year of Quidditch."
Confused looks laced the team's faces, but Ginny hurried on.
"Last year, Gryffindor weren't given the chance to win like we should have. But this year, things are going to be different. As your Quidditch captain, I say that we take back the victory we deserve and show them what we're really made of!"
Pond gave a half-hearted hoot of agreement and clapped. The rest follow suit.
"Now," Ginny said, a smile spreading over her tired, pasty features, "are you ready to play some Quidditch?!"
"Yeah!"
"I can't hear you!"
"YEAH!"
"Quaffle passes, V-formation!"
The players got into position and started the drill, chucking the quaffle back and forth between themselves. Ginny zoomed up into the air, whooping at the sudden thrill of adrenaline coursing through her veins and the sound of the wind whistling in her ears. She brought out a bat and levitated a bag of crabapples the kitchens threw out the night before.
"Bludger attacks, dive, dive, dive!"
She began lobbing the crabapples at the players, laughing as they swerved, often too late, out of the way of the fruit, getting mouldy pulp all over their uniforms.
"Come on now, ladies, the beaters are making sport of you!" she crowed, chasing down Darby and scoring an apple right to the head.
"No fair, Captain!" he complained, speeding up and out of sight.
"Fly like that in the real game and you might actually have a chance!" she called after him. She assembled the team again for more passing and dodging drills, leaving them to practice while she sorted out the remainder of the crabapple attack.
"Miss Weasley. I didn't expect to see you here," came a cool voice from behind her back. Ginny whirled round, a crabapple clutched in her fist and an insult ready on her tongue, but her voice dried in her throat when she saw who was standing before her.
"Malfoy?" Ginny asked cautiously, eyeing up his spotless emerald practice robes and the ram-rod posture of the Slytherin Quidditch team. "Can I help you?"
"Yes, actually," Malfoy answered. "If you could assemble your players and clear up your gear, I'd be very grateful."
Ginny balked. "No way. We were here first. First come, first serve. You know the rules."
A discomforting smile graced Malfoy's lips. "Not unless you have explicit permission from the Headmistress."
Ginny breathed in deep, trying to calm herself down. The silver on the trainees' robes glinted, as if mocking her. "You're bluffing. McGonagall would never agree to that."
"Clearly you don't know her as well as you think."
Ginny squeezed the crabapple so hard it exploded. "Bugger off, Malfoy. We were here first. I'm not going to ask you again."
A short boy with dyed blue hair pulled out a swathe of official looking parchment and held it out to Ginny. She snatched it from him and blanched as she read the curling, fancy script of Professor McGonagall.
"When did you get this?" Ginny asked, breathless.
"Beginning of the year. Slytherin house gets to train twice a week on the Quidditch pitch at four o'clock, every Saturday and Sunday."
"That's not fair!" Ginny cried.
"Life's not fair, Weasley."
Ginny whipped her head around, trying to find a teammate to back her up, but they were on the other side of the pitch practicing snitch blocks.
"As Head Girl, I… I rebuke your claim!" Ginny cried.
"And as Head Boy, I'm telling you to shut up and clear off," Malfoy replied. His smile grew impossibly wider.
A boiling heat began to curl up from the pit of Ginny's stomach, like lava bubbling up the shaft of a volcano.
"How do you not understand that we're a train wreck waiting to happen?"
The fire climbed her throat, burning through her ears.
"I thought that maybe fighting a war together might mature you enough to treat me civilly, but I suppose I was just being foolish."
Her hand curled around her wand, the other into a ball.
"You talk of 'back then' as if it were a long time ago. Because it isn't, is it? Not for you, at least. It's still raw."
She could practically smell the smugness wafting off him, the judgemental look in his eyes as her face grew hotter and redder-
traitortraitortraitorfilthypig-
With a gut-wrenching yell, Ginny launched herself on Malfoy, swinging her fist into his jaw with a satisfying crunch and slamming him down onto the grass. He made an undignified squawk of surprise and rolled away from her, hopping up and cradling his cheek in his hand.
"What the bloody-"
"I told you, bugger off!" she shrieked, adrenaline pulsing through her veins and whooshing to her head.
Malfoy straightened, revealing a purple blotch from where Ginny punched him.
"No," he said, looking at his shell-shocked team with resolve. "I have the right to be here and you don't."
Ginny screamed again and kicked him in the abdomen. Air whooshed out of his lungs and he staggered back, tripping over a spare quaffle by the training equipment.
A ripple broke out among the Slytherins. They began nudging each other and looking in the direction of the Gryffindor team that had caught sight of Ginny's attack and were now hovering closer to her and Malfoy.
"What are you doing?" Malfoy coughed. His hands were on his knees and he was bent, doubled up over the ground. "Are you out of your mind?"
"Fight back," Ginny said shakily, holding her fists up. She threw her wand to the side and squared her jaw. "No magic. Hit me back. I've been waiting for this for seventeen sodding years."
Malfoy's injured jaw dropped. He looked her up and down, saw the honesty in her words and stance.
What he said made her vision blur.
"No. I'm not fighting back."
She punched him in the nose. Warm scarlet ran between the crevices of her knuckles. "I said fight back, ferret!"
"No." His voice came out stuffy.
She shoved him, hard. He fell to the ground, coughing again. "Fight back or I'll kill you. I swear, Malfoy. I'll kill you." Her eyes flashed. She sounded calm and collected, as if discussing the weather.
"Stop it, Ginny. This isn't like you."
She kicked him in the side. Slytherins and Gryffindors were both running for the castle now, some on brooms, some on foot.
"You. Don't. Know. Me," she spat, each word punctuated by a sharp kick. Malfoy groaned but didn't squirm away. Didn't fight back.
traitortraitortraitorfilthypig-
"You don't know me!" she roared, bending down to stare him right in the face. He didn't look scared. Didn't even blink. The fire in her chest reached temperatures she wasn't sure existed.
"WHY WON'T YOU FIGHT BACK?!"
After everything he'd done to her family, everything he'd done to the world, to her friends, to Harry -
"FIGHT BACK, YOU COWARD! YOU TRAITOR! YOU'RE THE BIGGEST COWARD I'VE EVER MET, YOU HEAR ME? YOU'RE THE TRAITOR HERE!"
She didn't know how it happened, but she was sitting on his stomach, punching him hard in the face.
"I'm not the traitor! You are! You are, not me! Not. Me!"
"GINNY WEASLEY!"
Ginny didn't hear McGonagall's shout. Didn't feel somebody's hands lifting her off Malfoy. She didn't see him stand up, supported by Slughorn and Tungstern.
"I'm not a traitor! You are! YOU ARE-"
"That's quite enough, Miss Weasley." It was soft, gentle, whispered sweetly in her ear.
She felt a sudden cold sensation on her back, a nice kind of cold. "Not… the… traitor… Harry… sorry… Malfoy…"
"There, there, Ginny, dear," the voice soothed, picking her up like she weighed nothing. "Go to sleep now."
xxx
Ginny awoke with a ruthless headache and split, aching knuckles.
"Urgh," she groaned, sitting up on a plushy leather sofa she'd never seen before.
"Drink this," someone said. A cup full of swirling purple liquid was offered. It tasted like peaches and she drank it in three gulps.
"Where am I?" she asked, voice hoarse.
"My study, of course," Professor Beckett said, smiling gently at the exhausted girl. Ginny looked up, her eyes heavy and lidded.
"Why?"
"Because you beat the snot out of the Head Boy and had to be calmed with a sedation charm, that's why," Beckett said, her hands clasped over the wide girth of her tummy.
It all came flooding back to Ginny in a tidal wave of shame. Her explosion of anger, not just at Malfoy but at everything - Harry, her life, the War. Everything she'd managed to bury just below the surface had spilled over with red-hot vengeance. Ginny expected to feel satisfied with finally teaching Malfoy his lesson.
But instead, she felt terrible.
"Is Malfoy alright?" she questioned desperately. "I don't know what happened back then, I just went ballistic and - is he okay?"
"He's fine, Ginny," Beckett answered. Her good eye shone with kindness. "Some nasty bruised ribs, two black eyes and a split lip, but he's fine. I'm surprised you didn't break his nose."
"I could've," Ginny whispered. "But I wasn't punching for the sake of punching anymore. I wasn't even thinking straight - no, I wasn't thinking. Professor Beckett, what have I done?"
"You've done something stupid, dangerous and reckless, but that's not what matters. What matters is what you're going to do now."
"I'm resigning as Quidditch captain," Ginny said quickly. "And Head Girl. If I haven't been removed already, that is. Am I expelled? Oh, Merlin, Mum's gonna execute me -"
"You are not expelled and you are not suspended from your positions, either," Beckett interrupted, her tone firm and commanding. "And you will not resign from anything. Headmistress told me you'd say you would. She will not allow you to."
Ginny looked up in shock. "But I could've really hurt him-"
"And you didn't."
"No, you don't understand, Professor," Ginny groaned, her head in her hands. "I wanted to hurt him. And when he wouldn't fight back, I wanted to hurt him even more. In the beginning, at least. After that I just disconnected from reality… kind of. Sorry, I'm making no sense."
"Yes, you are," Beckett assured her. "What happened earlier wasn't you, and everyone knows that. Your team said you looked all pale and red at the same time. They said it didn't look like you were the one fighting at all."
Ginny shook her head.
"So, what are you going to do now?" Beckett asked again.
Ginny shrugged. "Bear my punishment and try to make things better?"
"I don't think you understand what I'm asking. What are you going to do with Mr Malfoy?"
Ginny's stomach dropped into her shoes. "Oh, Merlin, Malfoy. I don't know. He'll probably resign just to get away from me. If he hated me then he despises me now."
"You judge him too quickly," Beckett chided. "Do you want to know what he told me to say to you when you woke up?"
"What?" Ginny scoffed. "I should watch my back? Prepare to be avenged? Brace myself?"
"You don't have to apologize," Beckett said. "That's what he told me to tell you. You don't have to apologize and he understands."
"He said what?"
"Don't look so surprised. Why do you think he wasn't fighting back in the first place? He understands, Ginny. Cut him some slack."
"He understands now, does he?" Ginny seethed. "How can he say that? How can he even think that? Nobody understands anything, no one gets it-"
"You forget the things he's done in the War too."
"Yeah. For a reason."
bloodtraitorbloodtraitorbloodtraitorbloodtraitorbloodtraitor-
Ginny chewed her cheek, focusing on the movement of her jaw and nothing else. "I don't need Malfoy's pity. And frankly, I don't need yours, either. So thanks for the drink and I'll see you in potions."
"You're not leaving this room until you understand what you've done, young lady," Beckett said sharply. Ginny glowered at her but didn't stand up. "You attacked a fellow student mercilessly in front of a whole group of other students that look up to you, neglecting your duty as Quidditch Captain and also as Head Girl. You made a mistake. But you're sorry for it, aren't you?"
The scary thing was, Ginny really did feel sorry for what she'd done. She imagined Malfoy's helpless face bruised black and blue, blood pouring from his nose. Shame accosted her again.
"But what you've done isn't the important thing. Or even what you'll do after, because Mr Malfoy has shown he holds no contempt against you. Why you did it is what really matters to me."
"I can't tell you that, because I don't know." Ginny was getting impatient. Her head throbbed and she needed the toilet and she was hungry.
"You don't know yet," Beckett said gently. "Ginny, you're hurting from the War."
Poor, scared Colin-
So young-
So cold-
"All of us are hurting. But you've been through things some people can't even imagine."
Ginny rubbed her scarred arm almost unconsciously.
"The pain of torture, death, suffering stays with you. It does things to your heart and your mind. You get angry easily, you get panicked and scared and furious because you're scared. You feel helpless in you anger and it just keeps going in a vicious cycle, on and on till you succumb." Beckett paused for breath. "Your scars are always going to hurt. But you can learn how to live with that. Trust me, you can. And if you really try, you can make them hurt a little less every day."
Ginny wasn't sure how to react. Tears began to well up in her eyes. She'd been so good at hiding everything, so good at stopping it all come loose and consume her-
"And the first thing to do to begin this journey is to trust people," Beckett continued. "Talk to them. Cry with them. Begin to let your emotions out so you can learn how to let them back in."
Ginny thought of the last person she trusted, cried with, talked to.
How he couldn't deal with just how much pain they both had bottled up inside them.
How he left because she was too much for him.
"B-but w-what if they d-don't understand?" she hiccupped, tears and snot flowing free. Her chest grew tight, tight like it always did when she thought of Harry too much. "What do I d-do if they d-don't get it?"
"They don't have to understand to help you through it, my dear," Beckett comforted. "They just have to have compassion. And trust me, there are many good souls in this world who have that."
She wrapped her arms around Ginny's shaking body and let her sob into her shoulder.
"It's not just the war, is it?" Beckett whispered. Ginny shook her head.
"Harry, t-too. And- and- and-"
"Tom Riddle."
don'ttestmegirli'mstillherefilthyexcuseforawitch-
Ginny made a strangled noise and wept even harder against Beckett's black coat. "I can still hear him s-sometimes. Telling me things. Playing back the bad memories in my head, telling me things people have already said to make it feel worse. I know it's just me, it's all in m-my head but sometimes it hurts too m-much for me to believe it isn't him whispering in my ear."
"What does he tell you?"
"That I'm a f-filthy blood t-traitor and a shame on the w-wizarding world," Ginny sobbed.
traitortraitorbloodtraitorfilthypig-
"I'm so sorry, Ginny."
"H-he made me feel so awful when I was younger," she continued. She was giddy letting it out. "Made me feel w-worthless and stupid and weak. But he was my only friend. He talked to me. Gave me a-attention. One day, he told me to p-prick my finger and let the blood drip into the diary pages." Ginny knew Beckett wouldn't understand, but she didn't care. "He wanted to… b-bind us or something. That's what he told me."
"Did you do it?" Beckett asked, handing her a handkerchief.
Ginny blew her nose. "Yes."
Beckett let out a puff of breath. "You didn't deserve to go through that, Ginny. Don't ever let yourself believe you did."
Ginny cried for the next fifteen minutes, Beckett occasionally murmuring quiet words of comfort to her. She felt worse than she'd ever felt since Fred almost died, but after snivelling and sniffing herself back to composure, she felt lighter.
Like a pebble on top of the giant boulder resting on her shoulders had been lifted.
xxx
a/n: A little disclaimer I want to make: I know my characters are OOC. I know Draco's personality is very different from how he is in the book. Same goes for Ginny. But this a fanfic, not Harry Potter, and more importantly it's MY interpretation of their characters. I see Draco very differently from how JKR does. Time again she's tried to convince the fandom that he's canonically not redeemable, but I seriously disagree for reasons I won't divulge. So yeah, these characters are not mine but they are my TAKE on them. You can't really have a non-OOC character unless you wrote the book. I hope you enjoy my interpretations of D/G…
