Hello, my wonderful readers!
Thank you for all your reviews, I am glad you are enjoying the story this far. Here is the next chapter - its a bit short, but it had to be like this to get the ball rolling. Please do review and let me know what you thought of it.
Disclaimer: The Wizarding World and all its characters belong to JK Rowling.
WILFULLY: CHAPTER 9
Ginny Weasley's mind was reeling.
It was funny how sometimes you tend not to notice the things that had always been right in front of you. She certainly hadn't. If she had, she wouldn't have been standing there like a fool, torn between feelings of trust and betrayal.
xx
"How do I look?" Hermione asked as she stepped out from behind the changing curtains.
Ginny whistled. "So perfect that I'm tempted to ask you to marry me!"
"We would make a handsome couple. Too bad I'm madly in love with your brother." Hermione grinned as she eyed her reflection in the large mirror and straightened the skirts of her white sequined ballgown. "And this tight corset better be worth it!"
It was early afternoon and the two friends were in the dressing room of Rosanna's Dresser, a small boutique in Diagon Alley, for the final fittings of their outfits for Ron and Hermione's upcoming nuptials.
"Oh, it will be, Miss Granger. Your fiancé won't be able to keep his eyes off you!" Madame Rosanna, a golden-haired woman in her mid-forties, assured her before returning her focus on Ginny's dusty blue dress, which apparently still needed alterations, if Rosanna's much-too-lively measuring tape and her furiously scribbling quick-quotes quill were anything to go by.
It was ridiculous, Ginny mused and later voiced the thought, that the bride had already changed into her jeans and jumper while she – the bridesmaid – was stuck standing on a pedestal, getting poked by pins.
"Well, we wouldn't want you looking too simple next to your dandy date," Madame Rosanna said.
"My what?"
"Mr. Malfoy. Your boyfriend," the older woman pointed out, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I think he is one of the most well-dressed men in Wizarding Britain – Europe, even – and I want his eyes to pop out when he sees you at the wedding." She paused to playfully wink at Ginny. "Who knows, he might drop to his knees and propose!"
It was one of those wishful fantasies that often haunted overly-optimistic, lovesick people – which Madame Rosanna certainly was, if the rumours of her affair with the fashion editor of Witch Weekly were true – but there were two very obvious problems with this particular fantasy. One: Ginny and Draco were nowhere near the vicinity of marriage. Two: Draco was not even invited to the wedding. But pointing out these issues would likely start an interrogation that Ginny would much rather avoid, so she forced a small smile and steered the conversation to other wedding preparations.
Still, as she and Hermione left the boutique and started making their way down Diagon Alley, she found Madame Rosanna's comment poking into her thoughts like an unwanted itch. The topic was a dangerous territory to be sure, but she decided to broach it anyway. "I was wondering–"
"Ginny, please don't," Hermione said wearily.
"What?"
"I know what you're going to say."
Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Do you?"
"It's written all over your face." Hermione stated. "You're thinking of inviting Draco to the wedding."
"I'm allowed a plus one, aren't I?" Ginny asked. Her relationship with Draco was going smooth, and his meeting with her parents had not ended in disaster. It would be nice to have him at Ron's wedding. Of course, she'd have to convince him to come in the first place, which would be a hard feat in itself; the blond git was prouder than a hippogriff, and just as stubborn. He would not want to return to the 'Weasley territory' so soon, but she will make him. It was the only way to get him and her family to mingle and become better acquainted with each other. "Would it be so bad if he comes?"
"Ron will throw a fit. And frankly, I'm not too keen on the idea as well." Hermione replied bluntly. "Malfoy will always be the boy who bullied us ruthlessly–"
"He's not that person anymore."
"Perhaps, but I still don't approve of your relationship with him."
"Please, don't hold back your opinion," Ginny muttered with a roll of her eyes.
Hermione reached out and grabbed her by the arm, making them both halt in the middle of the street. "I don't like or trust Malfoy, but I am trying to be a good friend and accept – if not understand – whatever it is that you two have. You have to give me some time." She took a deep breath. "That being said, I cannot have him at my wedding, Ginny."
A part of Ginny wanted to protest, but another part – perhaps the more logical one – could see the reasoning behind Hermione's aversion to Draco. He had been a bully back at Hogwarts – an unbelievably cruel one at that – and both Ron and Hermione had suffered because of him countless times. "Alright. You're right." she conceded. "It was unfair of me to ask. This is the biggest day of your life and it should all be about you."
Hermione eyed her dubiously. "And you're not angry?"
"Why would I be?" Ginny asked as she wrapped an arm around the brunette's shoulders lovingly and tugged her along with her. "My brother is marrying one of my best friends. I couldn't be happier!"
"But Malfoy–"
"Can wait." As much as she wanted her friends to get along with Draco and to see that he had indeed become a decent man after the war, there would be other, more appropriate times to do so. "And I spend so much time with him already, so its fine. Really."
Hermione smiled, finally convinced that there were no hard feelings between them. "Thank you."
Now that the sort-of argument was over, going over to Fortescue & Finnigan Ice Cream Parlour for a scoop or two of ice cream felt like the most logical thing to do. Plus, the place was now owned by Seamus Finnigan – who had only partially changed the name to honour its last owner – and he was very generous with the amount of syrup he poured onto their orders.
They found Harry and Neville sitting at a table, half-eaten, rapidly melting sundaes in hand, so deeply engrossed in their conversation that they didn't notice the girls until they dropped into seats before them.
"Blimey!" Neville started with a hand on his heart, then his face broke into a smile. "You two scared me!"
"Where's your Gryffindor courage, Neville?" Ginny teased. Normally, the question would have been answered either with a joke thrown back her way or a list of the heroics performed by the two men, but the slightly grim smiles she received in response were cause for concern. "What's wrong?"
"We were just dicussing what happened in Rouen," Harry said.
"It's so tragic," Neville added with a shake of his head.
"What happened?" Hermione asked.
"This." Harry pushed a copy of the Daily Prophet before them.
Half of the front page was covered with a photograph depicting five dead bodies laid down in a line, covered in shrouds, while a teenage boy knelt before them, openly weeping.
MASSACRE IN ROUEN: WIZARDING FAMILY KILLED BY MUGGLES
By, Padma Patil
The French wizarding community is in shock after a wizarding family was found brutally murdered in Rouen, Normandy.
French Ministry of Magic employee Alfred Chaucer, 54, was found dead in his home last night along with his wife Lisa, 57, and three of their children: John, 21, Chloe, 10 and 5-year-old Stephanie. The words "Death to Magical Freaks" were painted in blood on their wall.
Investigation has revealed that the crime was committed by a group of three muggle men who are currently at large. "The motive behind the killings is, as of yet, unclear, but we are doing everything in our power to bring the culprits to justice," Fabien Dupont, Head of the Bureau des Aurors, told the press.
The only surviving member of the family is sixteen-year-old Jeremy Chaucer (photographed above), who was at the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic when the attack took place. Chaucer was utterly devastated at the loss of his parents and siblings and refused to speak to the press. He was seen being escorted away from the crime scene by the Aurors.
Edmond Lefebvre, Advisor to the French Minister for Magic, has declared this incident a "cold-hearted murder fuelled by hatred" and has raised concerns on the relationship between the magical and muggle community in the country.
The article went on to detail how the bodies were discovered, but Ginny couldn't bring herself to read more. There was a bad taste in her mouth. "They even killed the children?" she demanded in disbelief, knowing full well what the answer was and that none of her friends could give her any explanation as to why that had happened.
"Poor fellow, that Jeremy," Neville murmured. "I can't even imagine what he's going through."
Hermione, however, was frowning. "But how did the muggles know that the Chaucers were wizards?" she asked. "If the International Statute of Secrecy had been breached, shouldn't the Ministry have done something about it?"
"That's the thing: so far as the French Ministry knew, it wasn't breached," Harry told them. He glanced around as if to make sure that no none was within earshot, then leaned forward towards them. "But I spoke to a friend from the Bureau des Aurors – we solved a case together a couple of years ago – and he says that the crime was much closer to home than it seems."
"What does that mean?" Ginny asked.
"Haven't the slightest." Harry shrugged. "He couldn't tell me more because its still an ongoing investigation, but he sounded worried."
"As he should be," Hermione said gravely. "An incident like this will have consequences."
The words held a weight that rendered them all silent for a few minutes, each of them trying to contemplate what these consequences would likely be. There would be an outcry from public, no doubt, and the muggles responsible would be captured and punished. The French Auror department was almost as good as the British one, and there was no way that a few muggles would be able to outrun highly-trained wizards for very long.
"I should head back to office," Hermione broke the silence as she got to her feet. "We're drawing up a new treaty with the Centaurs and hell will break loose if I am late for that meeting."
Goodbyes were quick and her departure swift, but it had snapped them out of the gloom that the article had engulfed them in. Hoping to keep the conversation from reverting back to that once again, Ginny turned to Neville. "How's the apprenticeship going?" she asked. After the war had ended, Neville had signed up as an Auror. It was only a couple of years ago that he had quit and decided to follow his real passion: Herbology.
"Great!" Neville smiled brightly, and Ginny could have sworn that the teenage girls sitting at a nearby table nearly swooned at the sight. Neville was as much of a hero as the Golden Trio, after all. "I'll be finished in a couple of months." He shifted lightly, as if contemplating whether to continue or not. "Actually Pomona – Professor Sprout, I mean – told me the other day that she plans to retire at the end of this school year so can write her book, and she's recommended me as her replacement."
"Neville, that's wonderful!" Ginny almost jumped in her seat with joy.
Harry patted his shoulder lightly. "Well-deserved, mate."
"Thanks," Neville mumbled, his cheeks pink. "But don't tell anyone just yet. I'm still waiting for McGonagall to speak to me, so it's not a confirmed news."
"She'll be foolish to not hire you," Harry stated matter-of-factly. "And you'll make a great professor, Nev."
Neville smiled sheepishly, his eyes twinkling with joy. "Luna said she was very proud of me, and that there must have been a sariok perched outside my window that day," he said, and upon noticing their bewildered expressions, added, "Apparently it's a bird that brings luck."
Ginny hid a smile. Luna and her creatures! The blonde girl had sent her a letter few weeks ago, detailing her adventures through Brazilian rainforests in search for blorals, which sounded as odd as one would expect from a Lovegood, but brilliant nonetheless. "Is she going to attend the wedding?"
"She wouldn't miss it for the world. But she's only coming for a few days; doesn't have much time, that one." They had been dating since after the war, but Luna's work required for her to travel quite a bit, just like Neville's required for him to stay put.
"I'm sorry, Nev," Ginny murmured. "It must be hard."
"Sometimes. But we make it work." Neville said. "Speaking of hard relationships, how's yours?"
The question caught her off-guard, though it probably shouldn't have. Enough time had passed for her friends to get over the shock of her relationship with Draco, but that did not mean that they were not curious about it.
Her mind wandered back to the night she and Draco had spent opening up about their exes. Getting to know his feelings about Pansy – which were there in some form, even though he had tried to hide it – and telling him about what had happened between her and Harry had felt uncomfortable at the time, but in the end she had felt nothing but relief. It was as if a veil had dropped from between them, leaving behind an honesty that was appreciated on both sides.
However, Draco had behaved rather oddly the morning after. She had woken up to the sight of him pacing restlessly in the room, and he had seemed… jumpy, for lack of a better word. Of course, when she had asked, he had simply told her in his typically colourful manner that she was being silly. That had been two days ago, and she hadn't seen him since. He had, however, sent her an owl asking if she had any plans for New Year's. So perhaps, she had over-imagined his behaviour; it could have been a nightmare. He never talked about those.
"Can't complain," she replied.
"I met him at Hogwarts last week," Neville said. "He was there to meet Slughorn, but he stopped by the greenhouse to ask if we grew Sopophorous plant. We had a nice chat about whether its vascular tissue does indeed can be used in targeting specific cells that are potentially corr–" He noted the blank stares of his friends and sighed exasperatedly. "Honestly, did no one read Tilden Toots' paper in The Herbology Heritage?"
"Wait, so you discussed Herbology with Malfoy?" Harry asked incredulously, though she did detect a slight hint of accusation in his tone.
"I'd thought that he had come to hex me, mate. I was ready with my wand and everything." Neville shrugged. "But he started talking about plants, and he knew quite a bit about what he was talking about."
"He is surprisingly well read," Ginny stated. "Though not as much as Hermione."
"Yeah, well, Hermione has set up a bar that us mere mortals can only dream of achieving!" Neville said lightly as he stood up and picked up a couple of bags filled with Herbology supplies. "I should head back. A dozen or so Mandrakes await me."
In a span of few minutes, Ginny found herself alone with Harry as the two of them exited the ice cream parlour and stood in the middle of the busy street. It wasn't awkward between them, not really, but spending time alone with each other had become a rarity after their breakup. In the absence of friends or family members, and with that night's conversation with Draco still fresh in her mind, she found herself at a loss of what to say.
Mercifully, Harry did know what to say. "Have you bought a wedding gift for Ron and Hermione?"
Ginny pressed her lips together sheepishly. "I found this delicious vintage wine in Paris, so I bought a pair and had 'The goof' and 'The bookworm' engraved onto the corks, along with their wedding date."
Harry laughed. "That's brilliant!"
"You're not being sarcastic?"
"Of course not. I'm sure they will love it." He scratched his beard thoughtfully. "Now, if only I can them something that good."
"Do you have any ideas?"
"Well, I found the first edition of Oliver Twist at a bookshop the other day." He replied. "It's a muggle classic. Hermione will appreciate that."
"But that leaves Ron."
"And therein lies my problem," Harry said dramatically.
Ginny could not help but smile. She had almost forgotten that he had developed a tendency for the theatrics after the war – well, more so than before. It had started as a joke between them on one of the many nights that they had spent in the cosy living room of their flat, eating pizza, snuggling on the sofa and laughing over the silliest things. Her heart ached and she forced herself away from the memories. "You could buy him a book too."
He shot her a deadpan look; it was no secret that Ron was not the biggest fan of reading for leisure.
"No, I mean it," she insisted as she grabbed his arm and led him towards Flourish and Blotts. People were starting to stare, as they always did whenever the Boy Who Lived Twice was around, and she was not a fan of having an audience outside of the Quidditch stadium. "Didn't the Chudley Canons publish a photobook earlier this week?"
"Yeah, but that won't be as special as the book I'd be getting Hermione," he mumbled, then suddenly his eyes lit up. "Unless I get it autographed by the team."
"Ron will love that!" Ever since she had joined the Harpies, she had often jokingly complained that he should support her now, but her brother's love for the Canons had remained undeterred.
"How am I going to get their autographs, though?"
"I can find out when their next practice is," she offered. She was on good terms with most of the players; being a Quidditch star had its benefits, after all. "And you can swing by and ask them to sign the book."
"That'd be great." Harry smiled at her. "Thanks, Gin."
Flourish and Blotts was surprisingly busy, considering it wasn't the 'shopping for school' season. While Harry waited in queue to pay for his purchase, Ginny wandered through different aisles until a small book caught her eye: How to be a Good Dark Wizard?
Intrigued, she picked it up and read its back cover:
Are you interested in spreading some chaos but don't know where to start?
Or have you already started and have been defeated by those wretchedly annoying forces of good?
Enter, How to be a Good Dark Wizard? – your go-to guide to evilness.
In 50 easy steps, you will find your morale boosted, your sneers perfected, your cloaks of evil flouncing and your mind brimming with some major wicked ideas.
Learn a few moves and go spread some darkness in this world! *
* Warning: Steps won't work on evil wizards who underestimate babies in cribs. Those poopy fellows can kill you. Just ask You-Know-Who.
This was pure genius, she thought with a laugh. It was a surprise – or a shame, rather – that George hadn't come up with this.
"All done!" Harry stated as he walked up to her, the nicely wrapped book tucked under his arm. "What's that?" He scanned the title, then rolled his eyes. "Sweet Merlin's diapers! I can't believe someone wrote that, and that people actually buy this."
"Oh, where's your sense of humour?" Ginny teased as she glanced contemplatively at the much-too-long queue at the counter. "I'm tempted to buy a copy myself."
"Whatever for?" he asked incredulously.
"For Draco, of course." The words slipped out of her mouth and she realised belatedly exactly who she was talking to. Shit.
The smile left Harry's lips in an instant and his shoulders stiffened. He stared at her silently for a moment that seemed to linger longer than was necessary, his green eyes filled with an accusation of a betrayal that pierced through her. "I'm not getting in line with you."
"I didn't ask you to," Ginny said softly and placed the book back on the shelf. "I don't have to buy it. It's fine, really –" she stopped when she noticed that the space next to her was empty.
He had already turned on his heels and stormed out of the bookshop.
She stood rooted to the spot in a mixture of confusion and shock, then hurried after him. "Harry! Wait!" she called. He did not stop, but he slowed down enough so that she could catch up with him. "A little warning would have been nice before you abandoned me in there."
"You're not a child," he retorted. "And it's not my job to look after you."
"What's your problem?"
Harry glared at her. "You know what my problem is."
"Say it," Ginny ordered.
"Why did it have to be Malfoy?" he demanded, his voice low enough to remain just between the two of them, but fierce enough to reveal his discomfort. "Of all the people in the world that you could have dated, you picked him?"
"Yes, I did."
His eyes narrowed sceptically. "Are you trying to punish me?"
"Oh, fuck you!" Her irritation had flared up remarkably in the past few minutes, not that the Weasley temper needed much time to make itself known, and she was utterly sick of tiptoeing around everyone in regards to her relationship with Draco. If they couldn't make their peace with it, then it was not her problem. "Not everything is about you."
"For Merlin's sake, he's Lucius Malfoy's son. The man who slipped Tom Riddle's diary into your possessions. Or have you forgotten that?"
Ginny stilled at that. How dare he? How dare he ask her that when he was perhaps the only person in this whole world to whom she had bared her soul. He knew full well that the events of her first year at Hogwarts would haunt her forever. "I remember better than you, thank you very much."
"Then why would you even–"
"Because I actually like him, you self-righteous bastard!" She snarled. "And because I don't think he is irredeemable. I thought you did too, or do you only preach forgiveness when there are cameras around?"
"Look at you, Gin. You already sound like him." He shook his head in disbelief. "Don't you see what he's turning you into?"
"Well right now, you're the one who has turned me into this," she pointed out.
"Right. I forgot that it's my fault," Harry muttered with a roll of his eyes. "It has always been my fault."
Ginny knew by his tone where the conversation was heading: back to their break-up, back to all those nights they had spent shouting at each other. It was the last thing she wanted. "Don't start," she said wearily. "I'm not going to have this argument with you all over again."
There was a lull in their conversation, but the silence was strained because it was weighed down by the multitude of things that they had said to each other over the years, and also haunted by the things that were left unsaid.
It was Harry who spoke up, but his voice was soft. "Did you never consider it?" he asked. "Us getting back together."
Sweet Merlin. If only he knew how many times she had thought of just popping over to Grimmauld Place and throwing herself into his arms in the last year. But she hadn't. She couldn't. "Harry," she whispered pleadingly. "Please don't–"
"I miss you, Gin."
There was once a time that she would have burst with joy upon hearing these words, but now they only made her want to weep. That Harry harboured feelings for her was not a surprise; Draco had insisted on it the other night, and even though she had denied it, she had known somewhere deep down in her heart that it was true. Their breakup had been a complicated one, where they had decided to end things between them despite the fact that they both loved each other terribly. She knew that Harry held, and will always hold, a special place in her heart, but that did not mean that trying to rekindle that relationship was in any way a wise idea.
She turned to leave, but Harry reached out and grabbed her hand. "We're not done talking," he said quietly as he pulled her down the mouth of one of the narrow paths that led to Knockturn Alley, away from the eyes of numerous spectators.
Ginny was not quite sure why she was allowing him to lead her so when what she wanted was to get as far away from this conversation as soon as possible, and yet the idea of pulling away from Harry and leaving him alone when he was clearly upset about this whole situation felt cruel.
Fortunately – or perhaps unfortunately – she did not have to ponder much about whether to stay or leave, for the moment they turned around the corner, Harry bumped headfirst into a very familiar blond man.
"Oof! Sorry, I–"
"Merde!" Draco growled as the shopping bag in his arms split open and its contents, which appeared to be a vast amount of potion ingredients all labelled with the stamp of Mr. Mulpepper's Apothecary, spilled down his front and fell to the ground. "I think those glasses might need changing, Potter. It's either that, or you're just being a confounded nuisance as usual."
"I wasn't paying attention," Harry said shortly.
Draco's eyes came to rest on her and moved very pointedly from her face to her hand which was still in Harry's grasp. "Clearly."
Sweet Merlin, could his tone have been more inconvenient? 'Clearly', he had said, but whether that single word was a taunt to Harry, a veiled accusation towards her or simply an irritated remark, she could not tell.
"Draco," Ginny began, unsure whether she should try to offer him some sort of explanation or not. She was, however, distracted by the fumes emanating from his arm. "A-Are you on fire?"
The blond swore in French – which he usually did and upon being asked about it, he had told her that somehow cussing in that language was a lot more fun than doing so in English – and quickly diffused the fumes with a flick of his wand, but the damage was done. Whatever potion ingredient had spilled onto him had corroded the fabric of his sleeve up to his elbow, baring his skin beneath. "You owe me a new set of robes, Potter," he grumbled as he eyed the mess on the ground, probably wondering if any of his shopping could be salvaged. His deliberation did not seem to last long; less than a second later, he vanished all the items on the ground and started to move past them.
Harry, who had been glaring at Draco with an odd suspicion, stepped in his way. "You know, I've been hunting your old mates for six years now," he said. "Death Eaters, I mean."
"Get out of my way." Draco said, his voice low. A moment passed and he tried to push past the spectacled man, only to be stopped once again.
"Voldemort certainly left his mark on you lot, hasn't he?" Harry went on. "His death has caused the ink to drain, but the scar remains."
Ginny frowned. If this was Harry's way to humiliate her boyfriend, then it was a horrible way to do so and she would not stand for it. And if her Hogwarts memories were anything to go by, such a conversation between these two men would most certainly lead to a duel, which was something that she wanted to avoid at all costs. "Stop this," she ordered.
Nobody paid any attention to her. The two idiots just stood there stiffly, engrossed in their glaring match.
"Tell me, Draco," Harry demanded as he grabbed his arm and jerked it up, revealing the jet-black symbol of Voldemort etched onto his pale skin. "Why is your Dark Mark still alive?"
xx
Ginny Weasley's mind was reeling.
After the war had ended, every Death Eater had been exposed. It didn't matter if they were captured, pardoned or on the run, everyone knew who was included in Voldemort's inner circle. So, it was not then surprising – though it was utterly foolish – that she had somehow forgotten that an inactive Dark Mark was nothing but a faint mark, like an old scar.
The brand on Draco's arm was anything but that. It was 'alive', just as Harry has said.
And it had been like that during the entirety of their relationship. Black and vivid, right in front of her. But she hadn't noticed it.
Harry was right. But did that mean that Draco was wrong?
There. Not much of a chapter, to be honest but necessary for what is coming up. I hope you all liked it. Please do review and let me know.
Oh, and I know Neville ends up with Hannah Abbott and Luna marries Newt's grandson in the canon, but Neville/Luna was hinted at in the movies (which I found kinda adorable!). Who Neville ends up is not central to this story, so you can envision either of those endgames. For now, he's dating Luna.
Until next time!