Third Year, Part Seven
Her teeth ground together so harshly she was surprised it wasn't audible.
Heedless to the admittedly hidden fury that she was inciting, Jasmine continued her prattle.
"I'm certain he's going to win the Tournament. It just wouldn't be right if he didn't."
"I know," Priscilla fawned, "it's like seeing a fairy-tail come to life!"
"I just hope that French girl doesn't try and stake her claim on him," Jasmine went on, "did you see her, after he rescued her sister?"
"Well," Evelyn said, "he's certainly available, I don't think Parvati had a nice time with him at the ball."
Ginny quickly made sure her face was arranged in a slightly vapid smile when Jasmine turned to her and asked: "He stayed with your family again over the summer, didn't he?"
"Yeah," she admitted.
"Well? What's he like in person?"
"He's—just a normal boy. He's my brother's best friend, I don't know."
'He's a selfish, arrogant, lazy, rich bastard.'
"What does he like?" Jasmine asked, still watching her intently.
'Playing the hero and ruining things.'
"Quidditch? And he-I don't know, he just likes doing things. He doesn't read a lot or anything like that."
"Bad luck, Jasmine," Evelyn said, "sounds like you wouldn't be able to even have a conversation with him."
Jasmine blushed, drawing herself up haughtily.
"For your information, I didn't want anything of the sort. I was just curious."
'Yeah, right. You ignorant bitch. I hope you cry when he dies.'
"I'm telling you, it's true!"
Exasperated, she just shook her head, stabbing her bacon as if that would release some of her anger.
"It is!"
"Colin, it's not, ok!"
"But-"
She cleared her mind, forcing the pointless anger to disappear.
"Luna's one of my closest friends," she said, "and I'll never tell her this, but her father's absolutely mad. I don't think his magazine's ever said anything true. Heliopaths don't actually exist!"
"What about all the eyewitness reports?"
She sighed, putting down her fork and looking at him.
He was flushed, wearing a look that suggested that he thought he'd just win the argument.
Introducing Luna to Colin had been perhaps the biggest mistake she'd ever made.
"Come on, Colin. He's got two eyewitness reports, one of who ended up in Saint Mungo's for years after seeing a 'Heliopath', and the other one is also an eyewitness to absolutely everything he talks about. Why would they even hide these things?"
"Because the Ministry uses them!"
She ignored the murmured conversations and giggles around them, instead clearing her mind again and banishing the flash of hot anger that had shot through her.
"Colin, the Ministry uses Dementors, and everyone knows about them."
He opened and closed his mouth a few times, looking for all the world like a fish.
"How come," she continued, "there aren't any references to Heliopaths in any books? No other Magizoologist ever even mentioned them. No history books talk about them. Nothing. They're not real. Ask anyone, they'll all tell you these things aren't real."
"Most people think magic isn't real." He said quietly, "and they're wrong."
'Stupid Mudblood!'
"We have proof that they're wrong. We have no proof about these things."
Right then, a loud flurry of wings interrupted their argument as the post owls arrived.
Surprisingly enough, a handsome screech owl landed right in front of her, its beak snatching out and grabbing one of her rashers of her bacon before it held its leg out for her to remove the letter.
"That's not your parents' owl," Colin said interestedly.
'Thank you, I'd never have figured that out.'
"I think it's my brother's," she said, "Percy. Haven't heard from him for months, I wonder what's up."
'Dear Ginny,' the letter said.
'I must apologize again for my frankly embarrassing lack of communication lately. Due to Mr Crouch's illness, much more responsibility has been thrust upon me, and my schedule is as intense as it was even during my O.W.L and N.E.W.T studying. I wish I'd have had the opportunity to stay and chat after the Second Task, but my presence was required back at the office immediately. From the (admittedly fleeting) glimpse I caught of you, you appear well.
How are you? How have your classes been? Have you found Runes any more exciting than when you first began?
How is your social life?
It must be a shame, having no Quidditch at Hogwarts. I am sure that the school feels rather different without it. I hope the Triwizard Tournament is exciting enough to make up for it.
Hopefully, Mr Crouch will recover soon (not just for my sake, it's a wonder that the Ministry functions without him) and I will have a more regular timetable.
I hope to have less of a break between letters in the future.
Love,
Your brother,
Percy Ignatius Weasley.'
"He's a bit pompous," said Colin, who'd apparently been reading over her shoulder, "isn't he?"
Her left hand tightened into an instinctive fist, a murderous rage burning within her and making her think of some of Barty's stories.
"He's my brother," she said.
'And I could almost believe that he actually cares about me.'
She finished writing her letter to Percy and sighed, putting down her quill and beginning to put the parchment into an envelope.
It was a shame, really, that she couldn't tell Percy the truth.
Out of her whole family, Percy was the one who seemed most genuine when he pretended to care about her. Percy was the one who she thought actually did, if only a little bit.
And out of her whole family, Percy was the one who she could imagine as even theoretically seeing the truth about the Dark Lord. If he wasn't so in love with Mr Crouch and the Ministry, she could see Percy coming to understand that the Dark Lord would make the magical world so much better than it was.
She wished that she could tell him the truth, could warn him about what was coming and beg him to help the Dark Lord.
Unfortunately, she couldn't.
A painful pang shot through her as she finished tying her letter with its comfortable lies to the owl's leg and watched as it spread its wings, leaping out of the Owlery window.
'He's chosen his side,' she told herself, 'and I've chosen mine. That's all there is to it.'
She ignored the tiny voice in the back of her mind that begged her to reconsider, the little voice that sobbed and said she should tell Percy the truth, that he actually cared and would do anything to help her.
"Your Occlumency's definitely improved," Barty said, lowering his wand and wiping his forehead, "I don't think anyone's going to be getting in with brute force."
"Thanks," she said, slumping tiredly back in her chair, "I've been practising a lot."
"I know. It's obvious that you've really been putting your all into it."
She let her feelings of contentment fill her, an honest smile for once spreading across her face.
"It's actually pretty damn impressive. To come as far as you have in only four months, it's amazing. But don't rest on your laurels just yet, we still have a lot to do and not much time to do it in."
"Next year…"
"I won't be here. You'll have to sneak away from the school if you want to learn from me. And I don't know what he'll have me doing."
He shook his head.
"No, it's best that we at least get the basics down, enough that you can then continue on your own."
"What else are we going to be doing?"
"Continuing with Occlumency, focusing on more subtle attempts at breaking into your mind. We'll carry on with teaching you how to fight as well, and just a few…useful things that you should know."
She sat up a bit straighter, energy beginning to thrum through her again.
"I want you to read up on Memory Charms," He said, "and Disillusionment Charms."
"Ok."
"I doubt you'll be able to cast either of them anytime soon," he continued, "but they're basic tools of subterfuge. You need to at least get the theory down."
"What about things like-like necromancy, or possession, of-"
"All far too advanced for you," He said with a wave of his hand. "Might make a nice basis for when you do get there, but since we're short on time, best to work with more practical stuff."
"What about that advanced Occlumency thing you were talking about? Splitting the mind and all that?"
"I want you to keep working on it," He said, "Like I said, keep trying to think of two things at the same time. When you can do that for more than a minute or two, we'll move forward with that."
"Can't we do more with the fighting?" She asked.
"Your Occlumency has gotten a lot better," he said, rubbing his chin, "not really much left for us to do there, not till you can split your mind. Fine. We'll spend a bit more time on the fighting."
"I could-I could meet more than twice a week," she said hopefully, "I won't let anyone notice or let it affect my schoolwork or anything."
But he was shaking his head with a rueful grin.
"Dumbledore asked me to look out for a few students. You weren't the only one."
"Who else?"
"Derek Carmichael—He's a Ravenclaw, fifth year. Also the Nott boy. And…"
His smile grew, stretching Moody's mangled face wide.
"The Longbottom boy."
It took her a moment to understand what it was that made Barty so happy about spending time with Neville.
Then she gasped, covering her mouth with her hand when she remembered what Barty had been sentenced to Azkaban for in the first place.
"No…" she whispered.
"Oh yes. He thinks I'm Moody, of course. Most of the time we just talk. But I've told him stories about his parents."
That drew a horrified giggle out of her, the image of Neville sitting and eagerly listening to stories about his parents from the man who'd cursed them insane.
"Ironic, isn't it?" He said with a laugh of his own.
"Very."
"I've been sorely tempted to tell him the truth," he admitted, "would have to Obliviate him after, but Merlin it'd be worth it."
"It-it would be funny."
'How can you even think that? How-'
She cleared her mind, forcing that thought to disappear.
"It would be funny," she repeated.
"Yeah. It would. Now, let's carry on a little, shall we? Legilimens!"
"You sure you don't want anything else?"
She smiled at Colin, curling her fingers around the bottle of butterbeer.
"No, thanks. This is good enough."
"Are you sure?"
She lifted the bottle to her lips in lieu of an answer, avoiding having to speak by taking a sip.
From the table behind them, she could hear Parvati giggling as the boy she was with said something in French.
Before she'd even put the butterbeer down, she could hear them loudly snogging.
She wasn't quite sure whether Colin expected anything like that from her. It was their second date, if a trip to Hogsmeade could be called a date, but he still hadn't done anything to make her think that he wanted her in that way.
To be honest, she was quite glad that he hadn't. She'd wondered, when they had arranged this trip, what it would be like if he'd kiss her.
She hadn't been able to think about it for more than a minute or two before the phantom taste of Higgs' seed had burned at the back of her throat, making her shake and want to throw up.
But she hadn't been able to change her mind and turn him down, not if she wanted to seem normal.
"Wouldn't it be great," Colin said, "if we could arrange to have them deliver Butterbeer to Hogwarts?"
"It'd be fantastic. But you know, Fred and George sneak out of the castle every so often. I'm sure they'd bring you some if you asked."
Colin seemed to take that as a sign that Ginny wanted to discuss the wonders and brilliance of her brothers. After nearly fifteen minutes of Colin's exuberant exclamation of their praises, he seemed to realize that Ginny was not enjoying the conversation.
An awkward silence fell upon them, the hustle and bustle of the Three Broomsticks sounding all around them.
Then, in an obvious attempt to escape the silence, Colin brought up the subject which she'd expected and dreaded.
"You know, I really think Harry's going to win the Tournament."
"I don't know," she said, "the other Champions are all older and more experienced…"
"But he's tying with Cedric for first place already," he exclaimed, "and think of all the other stuff he's done."
"Yeah…I just think…I just don't like how everything's always all about him, you know?"
Judging by Colin's confused expression, he did not know.
"I mean…"
She sighed. What was she even bothering for? Colin was just like everyone else, unable to see past the scar on Harry's forehead.
"Never mind. He probably has as good a chance as Cedric, actually."
Colin looked a bit confused by her sudden change of mind, but he took it in his stride.
"I think he's got a better chance. He did a lot better against the dragon, and he only took so long in the lake because he wanted to save everyone. He'll win, you'll see."
'He will. But I don't think you're expecting what will happen to him then.'
She finished her butterbeer and glanced at her watch.
"Mind if we go to Zonko's before heading back to the castle?"
"Sure."
As they left, Ginny noticed Colin shooting at envious look at Parvati and her Beauxbatons boy.
'That's all he wants.'
'I don't care.'
"It was really nice of you to bring me," she said, putting her arm around his shoulder, "you're a great friend, Colin."
She pretended not to notice his blush, or the fleeting look of disappointment that flashed across his face.
As always, the busier she was, the quicker time seemed to fly past for Ginny. Between her schoolwork, lessons with Barty and the homework he inevitably gave her and pretending to be a normal, social girl, her days were so full that she barely paid attention to the calendar, and so was quite surprised when the Easter Break began.
It was, she had to admit, not as much of a break as it should have been. As usual, her professors had all assigned homework, but she'd gotten that done quickly enough.
The work Barty had assigned her to do, on the other hand, was much more time-consuming.
He'd given her a book to read that he'd borrowed from the Restricted Section, on the theory behind curses. He'd also told her to continue reading up on Memory Charms, to start looking up the theory of conjurations even though it was sixth-year stuff, and to continue practising Occlumency as much as she could.
In a way, it was harder for her to do all that during break than it would have been during term.
During term, everyone was so busy with all of their own stuff that none of them really noticed what she was doing.
Now, though, it seemed like she could hardly get more than an hour to herself at a time. It seemed like whenever she tried, someone was there to distract her. If it wasn't Colin, it was Ron. If it wasn't Ron, it was Fred and George.
It actually made her feel embarrassingly glad that Luna had gone home for the break. As much as being around Luna made her feel normal, she knew that had Luna been around she'd have gotten even less time to do everything she needed.
By the time the break was over, she was actually happy for normal school to resume.
She twisted, just managing to get out of the way of a purple spell he'd sent her way. Dimly, she heard it crash against the stone wall, making a terrible discordant sound.
Whatever it had been, it wouldn't have been nice to have been hit with it. Barty did not believe in going easy on her. Of course, he didn't use any spell that he couldn't heal the effects of, but that didn't mean that it wouldn't have hurt like hell.
"Protego!" She cried, just in time.
His Stunner crashed against the translucent edge of her shield, throwing up lines of blueish green light.
"Reducto!"
He flicked his wand, knocking her curse aside like it was nothing.
She jumped out of the way of his next curse, which proved to be a good decision when it smashed right through her shield.
"Bombarda! Bombarda! Stupefy!"
He twirled his wand like a baton, sparks emitting from the tip as a desk and two chairs leapt into the air and caught her spells.
But she was already waving her wand while he defended himself.
"Expelliarmus!"
The red light of the Disarming Charm flew true, going straight under one of the flying chairs and hitting him in the chest.
For the first time since they'd started duelling, she'd managed to land a spell on him.
She caught his wand, still marvelling over the fact that she'd done it, too out of breath for anything but a happy sigh of relief.
His hand whipped into his robes, emerging with another wand that he slashed through the air.
Everything went black.
She woke up what felt like a few minutes later, to find him standing over her.
"That," He said, "was pretty good. You're definitely getting there."
Gripping his outstretched hand, Ginny pulled herself to her feet, falling gratefully into a chair.
"You still had me though."
"Yeah. But most people don't carry two wands. Moody does, and so I do. But if I were pretty much anyone else, you'd have won."
Barty smiled at her. "You should be proud of yourself."
"I am," she said.
"Good. Now, let's see if we can get a repeat of that performance. C'mon, no groaning. One more duel before bed."
Of course, she didn't beat him that time. He'd been expecting her distraction, and when she tried something similar he hit her with a curse that she was pretty sure broke her ribs.
But as he healed her, he told her again that she should be proud of herself, that he was proud of her.
She, a third-year student, had managed to disarm one of the Dark Lord's best. And if she could manage once, she could manage again.
'And maybe you can become someone who the Dark Lord will be proud of as well.'
"Look," Luna said, her hand rising with an outstretched finger, "I think that one looks like a dragon."
Ginny squinted, grass rubbing up against her hair as she turned her head slightly.
Summer had come extremely late that year, the weather only really beginning to improve at the beginning of May, two weeks previously. Like many of the other students, Ginny and Luna were spending their Saturday outdoors, enjoying the pleasant warmth.
"I think it's more like a snake," she said, trailing the cloud's outline with her fingers, "a really big one, coiled in on itself."
"I can see that. The big one next to it though, that looks like a house. A house from a children's book. See, the wispy edges of the cloud is the smoke coming from its chimney."
Ginny smiled, for once not needing Occlumency to keep her thoughts at bay. There was something about Luna, something comforting about being in her presence. It made her feel like she wasn't living a double life, like there was no secret Ginny that only the Dark Lord and Barty knew about.
It made her feel normal, in fact.
"You went to Hogsmeade with Colin again," Luna said, some emotion that Ginny couldn't recognize making her friend's voice sound different.
"Yeah."
"Is he-does he want to be your boyfriend?"
"I don't know. I think he does, but he hasn't said anything about that."
"If he does…would you-would you say yes?"
Ginny looked over at Luna, now curious beyond words. It wasn't like Luna to be so hesitant when asking questions, and it certainly wasn't like Luna to sound as if she wanted to cry during a normal conversation.
Luna was studiously staring up at the sky, not turning to face her.
As she watched, turning her response over in her mind, the sun peeled out from behind one of the clouds, bathing them in its light and making Luna's hair seem to glow.
"I don't know," she finally said. "Colin's sweet, and I like him. And it's…normal, to have a boyfriend."
"But…" Luna said, still not looking at her.
"I just-I don't think I like him like that. I don't look at him and think that I want to hold his hand, or-or kiss him."
'Or let him touch me like Higgs did. That's all he wants. That's what they all want.'
Luna turned her head, startling Ginny when she noticed those enormous silver eyes swimming with tears.
"Can I tell you something?" She whispered.
"Of course!"
"You won't stop being friends with me?"
"Luna, I promise, I won't stop being friends with you. No matter what you tell me."
For one moment, a wild thought blazed in her head, a mad idea that maybe Luna was like her, that maybe Luna had somehow found out that the Dark Lord was coming back and had decided to support him.
Then Luna spoke.
"I-I think about you like that."
Ginny opened and closed her mouth soundlessly, her mind blanker than she'd ever managed with Occlumency.
"I know you must think I'm a-a freak," Luna said, "But I needed to tell you, I had to-"
"I don't think you're a freak," she said, recovering, "it was just unexpected."
"I'm sorry. I didn't-I only just realized the other day. I've been-been trying to work out how to tell you."
"How long have you known that you liked girls?"
Luna sighed, turning over to lie on her stomach.
"I don't know if I do," she said slowly, "I've never looked at someone else and thought of them like that. But when I look at you, I can't help it."
"What do you feel when you look at me?" Ginny asked, more out of curiosity than anything else. She could remember the embarrassing crush she'd had on Harry Potter, and how she'd looked at Lockhart at first.
But she hadn't actually felt something like that since the first time she'd met Higgs, except when she'd dreamt about Tom.
And when she'd met the Dark Lord.
"My belly feels all twitchy and warm," Luna said, "I feel like I'm saying something stupid whenever I talk. And I-I just look at you and think how special you are, how beautiful and kind and…"
Luna trailed off, her cheeks reddening.
Speechless, she just stared, noticing for the first time how pretty Luna really was. Her lips looked soft, her hair shone in the sunlight, and her eyes were like diamonds. But she could remember how she'd felt when she'd looked at Harry, back before Tom. And she didn't feel that now.
"You don't like girls," Luna said, "do you?"
"I don't know. I've never really thought about it. It doesn't…gross me out or anything. I just-I don't know, Luna."
"That's something," Luna said, sounding more like her usual self. "Have you ever felt like how I said I do?"
"Once or twice."
"No matter what," Luna said, "I wanted you to know. I love you, Ginny. You're my best friend in the whole world."
'Remember' the voice spoke in her mind, 'it's only an act.'
Blinking back the sudden tears, Ginny reached out and took Luna's hand.
"I love you too."
'I just wish that I could tell you the truth.'
The knife bit deep into her thigh, slicing through her flesh as if it were made of butter.
Hissing through gritted teeth, she pulled it out, her eyes locking for a moment on the blood streaming down her leg.
Insane as it was, she'd missed this. It had been close to two months since last she'd cut herself. She'd managed without it, somehow relying on her fledgeling Occlumency to keep her sane.
For two months she'd been alright, but one conversation with Luna was enough to tear it all down.
She watched as the blood trailed down her thigh, building up just above her knee before dropping onto the floor.
Aside from the rhythmic dripping of her blood, the bathroom was silent.
Everyone else, all the normal students, was asleep.
Sometimes, she wished that she could just be like them.
"It's just an act," she whispered, moving the knife higher and beginning to apply pressure again. "That's all it is. Just an act. Soon I won't have to keep it up. I just need to hold on until then. Just an act."
She pushed down, feeling the blissful agony of the knife carving through her worries.
"Just an act," she repeated, "just an act."
"I think I'm improving," she said, "with that splitting the mind thing."
Barty raised an eyebrow, closing his enormous travelling trunk and dropping one of the hairs from his hand into his hip flask.
He still looked like Moody, although his hair was getting lighter by the second. No matter how many times she'd asked, he'd refused to let her see his real face. Not while they were in Hogwarts.
"How so?" He asked before taking a sip from his flask.
"I've been using a timer. Focusing on two separate thoughts at the same time and checking to see how long I managed for once my concentration broke." Smiling triumphantly, she continued, "I got up to five minutes last night."
"Not bad," he said, "now it's time to start making it more complicated. We'll start practising with that from next week. You'll have a very, very long way to go though."
"What do you mean?"
"Imagine I'm Dumbledore," he said with a sigh, "and for whatever reason, I want to know what's going on in your mind. I do some Legilimency, as subtly as I can. I keep on talking to you while I'm doing it. So, you have to pick up on his attempt, figure out what he's looking for and feed him false thoughts and memories, keep one part of your mind safe and observant, all while holding up a conversation and making sure that you don't let anything slip."
She shivered, her victory suddenly seeming hollow and empty.
"Sounds difficult."
"I told you it would be, from the very beginning. Like I said, I can barely do it. But some people can. And if you've got the talent, you need to develop it."
"And if I don't?"
He smiled, a grin that was in no reassuring.
"We'll be sure to find that out. How's the reading on the rest of The Unforgivables coming?"
"Nearly done. It's definitely making a lot more sense now."
"Good. You can do the Imperius alright, but I want you able to complete the set."
"Why?"
She quailed under his disbelieving stare, looking down at her feet.
"I mean, why's it so important? There's plenty of others I can do."
"There's nothing better than the Cruciatus for getting information out of someone," he said slowly, speaking as if to an idiot, "and the Killing Curse can only be blocked with a physical shield. You'd be surprised how many wizards and witches can't manage a conjuration under pressure."
"I meant-"
"And there's the intimidation aspect. The stigma around them is so strong, when people see you using them they lose their cool entirely. A terrified enemy is the next best thing to a dead one."
She nodded, meeting his eyes again.
"I think I could manage," she said.
"Wanna try?"
She thought about it for a few seconds before nodding curtly.
His smile growing, he waved his wand, making a glass jar fly from the cabinet and land on his desk.
A spider scuttled inside, scrabbling up against the glass.
She gripped her wand tightly, her heart hammering against her chest.
"Is that the same one?" She asked, a nervous tremor in her voice.
"Merlin, no," he said, shaking his head. "But I've found they're useful for demonstrations."
He jabbed his wand toward the jar, making the lid fly off of it with a soft pop.
"Whenever you're ready."
She let her mind wander, allowing images of Harry Potter, Lockhart, and Higgs to flash before her eyes.
She thought of how her parents would react when they found out the truth, what Luna would say.
Her innards boiled with furious hate, and she raised her wand.
"Crucio!"
Before the spider even reacted, she felt it. A ticklish, not quite unpleasant sensation, as if something warm were stroking her entire body.
It wasn't particularly amazing, but it was good enough that she could understand how people could use this spell on other humans.
The spider began to curl in on itself, hairy legs thrashing uselessly as it spun around in obvious agony.
"Very good!" Barty said, clapping Moody's gnarled hands together, "You've managed it!"
She lowered her wand, her blood burning with the excitement of her success.
"Ready to try the last one?"
Nodding, she let those thoughts bubble up in her again, feeling the loathing again.
"Avada Kedavra!"
The room was momentarily bathed in the emerald light of her curse.
And the spider fell over, clearly dead.
"Excellent! Excellent! And it would work just as well on a human!"
Her smile widened until she thought her face would tear open.
"What do you think you want to do after school?"
She thought about it for a half-second before giving her head a small shake and bending down to scratch the Niffler behind the ears again.
'Whatever he wants me to do.'
"I don't know," she said, "what about you?"
Luna had dragged her out to Hagrid's hut immediately after breakfast, saying how much she would like the Nifflers.
She had to admit, they were pretty cute. Useful too, if what Luna said about their attraction to gold was actually true.
She'd half thought that things would become awkward between her and Luna, ever since the Ravenclaw had told her about her feelings. In the weeks since then, however, Luna hadn't mentioned it again, and things had continued between them like normal.
"I think I'd like to take a year off," answered Luna, "to travel the world. After that, I might become a journalist like Daddy. Or I might write about animals."
Ginny felt a small smile pulling at her lips. There was something just so…perfectly Luna about that idea.
"It'd suit you."
"Wouldn't you want to travel?"
She shrugged, not meeting her friend's wonderful eyes.
"It sounds amazing. But there's no way I could afford it."
"If you were going with a friend," Luna said softly, "they might pay for you."
She took Luna's hand, giving it a tight squeeze.
"Maybe. But that's years and years away."
They stood like that, holding hands in silence for a few minutes until Luna let go and began to tickle one of the Nifflers.
"Do you think people have different personalities that they show to different people?" Ginny asked suddenly.
Luna looked up at her, staring hard for a few minutes while the Niffler whined and tried to pull her attention back.
"Everyone wears lots of masks."
"She doesn't want to be friends with us, Evelyn! Just give it up already!"
Ginny paused with her hand on the doorknob, ears pricking up.
She didn't need to try and figure out who Priscilla was talking about.
She pressed her ear against the door, listening carefully.
From the sound of it, Evelyn was knitting again. She could hear the rhythmic clicking of the needles against each other, only pausing when she spoke.
"I don't think that's true. She just doesn't share so many interests with us. But I think she's lonely, and we should try-"
Priscilla's high-pitched laugh wafted through the door, grating against Ginny's nerves like usual.
"If she wants anything from us, maybe she should actually say something! She's happy enough with that weird Lovegood girl and Creevey."
"She thinks she's better than us," Jasmine added, her voice cold, "all of us who aren't getting private lessons and who can't answer every question the professors ask. We're too stupid for her to spend time with."
Ginny hissed, hands curling into fists.
She could just picture them, Jasmine and Priscilla sitting on their beds in their nightclothes, Priscilla probably brushing her stupid hair while Evelyn sat and knitted.
All of them having a nice gossip about her.
She imagined bursting in there and slashing her wand through the air, making them scream and twist just as she had done to the spider.
After all, she'd been reading about Memory Charms for almost two months. Surely by now, she knew enough of the theory to actually pull them off.
Her fingers tightened around her wand and she gripped the doorknob.
Then, in a sudden rush, sanity reasserted itself.
She released the doorknob as if it was burning hot, actually jumping back from the door.
Her heart raced, her breathing coming in short, sharp gasps.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head, "I can't. I can't."
Almost instinctively, she cleared her mind, taking a deep breath and focusing on nothing but the air entering her lungs, allowing all thought and feeling to vanish.
When she opened her eyes, the furious, overpowering rage was gone.
'I'll go wait in the Common Room for a bit,' she decided, 'give them a chance to finish their talk.'
Barty looked more excited than she thought she'd ever seen him.
Before she'd even had the chance to ask about the truth of what happened, he smiled widely and said: "I finally did it. I killed him."
"Your father? It's true, he snuck in?"
He clapped his hands together, dancing a little jig from foot to foot.
"Yeah. He broke through Wormtail's Imperius and came here to warn Dumbledore. But the Dark Lord let me know, and I found him on Potter's map."
"How did you do it?"
His smile faded, just slightly.
"Didn't have time for anything too exciting. The Killing Curse, that's all. But I transfigured his body afterwards, turned him into a bone and buried him in front of Hagrid's hut."
"Wow," she whispered, eyes wide, "Wow."
"Finally. After all the years, I finally got to do it. And right under Dumbledore's nose."
He winced for a second, rubbing his arm.
"I'd hate to be Wormtail right now," he muttered.
After a moment, she realized what he meant. The Dark Lord must have been punishing him for his stupidity in letting Crouch escape.
Exactly as he deserved.
"Who is that Wormtail guy anyway?"
Barty goggled at her, his face a perfect expression of surprise.
"You…don't know?" He said, recovering, "he lived in your house for years! I never told you?"
"Never! What do you mean, he lived in my house?"
Her jaw dropped as Barty began to explain, her eyes steadily widening.
She listened with complete surprise as he told her everything, about Peter Pettigrew's framing of Sirius Black, how Peter was an unregistered Animagus with the ability to turn into a rat, hence the nickname Wormtail.
And most importantly, she listened to the tale of how Wormtail had almost been caught by Harry, Hermione, and her own brother the previous year.
And how Ron hadn't told her.
'It's not like I've told him the truth about me.'
Even so, it still hurt, that Ron didn't trust her enough to tell her the truth about something so important.
'What a hypocrite. When's the last time you told him the truth?'
She walked back to her room that night with her mind swirling, anger and guilt mixing to make a furious concoction in her belly.
"Oh!" She cried, taking a step back, "sorry!"
Ron, Hermione, and Harry all turned to look at her, Harry with his wand raised, Ron standing in front of a pile of cushions, Hermione with a book open on the dusty table in front of her.
That was a sight she certainly had not expected to see when she'd gone to one of the unused classrooms that she usually practised spells in.
"What're you doing here?" Asked Ron.
"I was just walking past," she said, thinking quickly, "and I heard noises. What are you guys doing?"
"Preparing for the Third Task," Harry said. "They've turned the Quidditch pitch into a maze, I've got to get to the centre and find the Triwizard Cup before anyone else. And there's gonna be all sorts of obstacles to get through."
'I've known that for months, idiot. But I bet you don't know what's waiting for you at the end.'
"I know," she said, "Hagrid told Luna and me yesterday."
She hesitated for a second, thinking hard.
'The whole point is for him to win it. He needs to win. Barty will be helping him, but the more he knows the better it'll go.'
"He also told us that he's giving some of his Skrewts and Acromantulas," she continued, "and that they've brought in a Sphinx."
Harry's brow shot up, his face paling slightly.
"A Sphinx?" Hermione called excitedly, "Wow-Harry, we need to work on riddles. There's a trick to them-"
"I'd be more worried about the Acromantulas," Ron said shakily, "remember what they were like?"
"And the Skrewts must be huge," Harry said. "Thanks, Ginny."
She smiled sweetly, looking him dead in the eye.
"It's a pleasure."
"This will probably be our last meeting," Barty said, glancing at the Foe-Glass for a second, "after tomorrow night, Dumbledore's sure to keep me busy."
"You said that-that you might have to run."
He nodded solemnly, rubbing his hand through his hair.
"If Dumbledore even suspects me slightly, I'm running. I've got Floo Powder on me at all times, got an emergency Portkey all ready. I couldn't take him in a fight, running would be the only option."
"If you had to go," she said, "what-what would happen to me? Surely they'd think-"
"No," he interrupted, "you're forgetting, I've been meeting with other students. If I have to run, they'll question all three if you. There's nothing suspicious to be found with the other two, and you're a good enough liar to pull it off."
"If he tries Legilimency-"
"He won't. Dumbledore's noble," he spat, "wouldn't do something like that, not without asking you first."
"And if-if he does?"
"Then you say yes, and you hope that you've practised enough."
His face softened and he reached out, taking hold of her hand where it lay on the desk.
"You'll be fine," he promised, "I doubt I'll have to run, and even if I do, I still believe you'll be able to pull it off. You just need to believe it too."
"I do. You've taught me so much, I don't know what I'd have done without you."
"It's worth it for me. I'm getting in at the beginning of something huge. I'm telling you, girl, you're going to rise high."
"Could you tell me again," She asked hesitantly, "what is what like when he had a body before?"
His non-magical eye misted over with remembrance, a wistful smile curling the corners of his lips.
"It was amazing," he said, "every day we had another triumph. One by one, our enemies were falling, we were taking them down. He would fight by our side, and it was like being in the presence of a God. He would do magic that no one else had even imagined. Every day moved closer to that glorious moment when Britain would fall into our hands."
He shook his head, his eyes locked onto the past.
"You can't understand what it was like. We were going to win. We wouldn't have to hide from the muggles anymore, we wouldn't have to pretend that Mudbloods and Squibs and vermin were our equals. No more stupid laws restricting what magic you can and can't do, no more regulations about what you can study. Magic itself would be free again, and those of us who freed it would be kings and queens."
He took a deep breath, expelling it in a great sigh with his face twisting in a grimace.
"And then Potter ruined everything. Well, tomorrow night, he'll get his just reward. As will all of the scum who weren't even loyal enough to search for him."
"He'll be back," she whispered.
"Tomorrow night, the world will change. And you're gonna be on the right side of it."
She sat in the stands, staring at the commotion ahead with her mind ablaze with panic.
People were screaming and shouting, the teachers all running to the figure that had appeared next to the maze clutching the Triwizard Cup in one hand and what was unmistakably a dead body in the other.
"Cedric," someone shouted, "he's dead!"
Somehow, she knew, it had all gone wrong.
'It doesn't matter as long as it worked. As long as he came back, it doesn't matter what happened.'
She realized that she was crying, silent tears streaming down her face as her insides knitted around themselves.
'Please, let it have worked! Please, please, please, let him be back!'
From her vantage point in the stands, she could dimly make out the limping figure that had picked Harry up and had begun to walk to the castle.
'At least he won't survive. Whatever else happened, he'll finally pay.'
She sat with Ron and Hermione around Harry's bed, not even trying to get the shock off of her face or to staunch the flow of tears.
Harry was sleeping again, now that Fudge had left.
Ron's arm felt heavy and hot around her shoulders. In an impressive display of compassion, he'd come over to her and hugged her after the revelation that Barty had been impersonating Moody.
Her brother had obviously assumed that her tears were because she'd been learning from a Death Eater, and not as they actually were because he'd been given the Dementor's Kiss.
She could think of few things worse than that. Death itself would be better. And Barty, Barty who'd been so full of life, who'd been so excited for the future, to see the Dark Lord's rise again, Barty who was sure that she would make him proud one day—Barty was gone, his soul in the belly of a Dementor.
Just the thought of that was enough to make her want to vomit.
Ron snored softly, his weight pushing up against her side.
Hermione had left the hospital wing for a half-hour a little bit earlier. When she'd come back, she'd assumed the position that she was currently in, sitting on one of the chairs with unfocused eyes staring at the wall.
Ginny wasn't sure whether she was awake or not, but was more than happy not to start a conversation.
It had certainly been a busy night. Shortly after Fudge's departure, Sirius Black had revealed himself to be the large black dog that had been in the room.
Ron had told the whole story after that, explaining about Wormtail and who Scabbers really had been.
She shivered, thinking about what had happened after that.
It seemed, based on what she'd heard, that Dumbledore was putting together a group to fight against the Dark Lord.
And her mother had agreed to be a part of it.
The sun had just risen, bathing the world in its golden light, when someone called her name.
"Miss Weasley?"
She turned her head, clearing her mind automatically.
McGonagall stood a few feet away, looking at her with a strange expression.
"Yes, Professor?" She said softly, trying not to wake Ron up.
"The Headmaster would like to talk with you," McGonagall said, "Please, come with me."
Ron gave a small grunt as she heaved his arm off of her and stood, feeling a momentary dizziness. She followed McGonagall out of the Hospital Wing, mentally going through her story over and over again.
If he used Legilimency on her, she was done, as simple as that. Her ability with the split mind technique had improved, but not enough that Barty hadn't been able to break through it.
A pang went through her at the thought of him.
She would be able to keep her mind blank, of that she was certain. But finding an empty mind would be sure to let Dumbledore know that something suspicious was going on.
A few times during the walk to Dumbledore's office, McGonagall seemed like she would say something. Ginny was very glad that she didn't.
As they arrived at the gargoyle guarding the staircase to Dumbledore's office, the door opened and Neville walked out.
He was ashen, his eyes wide and wet and his hands were shaking.
When he saw them, he turned and ran off.
"The Headmaster's expecting you," McGonagall said, looking at the fleeing boy with a frown, "Do you mind if I leave you here?"
"It's fine, Professor."
McGonagall squeezed her shoulder for a second before hurrying off in Neville's direction.
Taking a deep breath, Ginny moved feet that felt like lead and walked up into Dumbledore's lair.
She knocked on his door, hands trembling.
"Enter."
Feeling almost as scared as she had when she'd gone to meet Higgs, she did.
Even through her fear, Ginny was amazed at Dumbledore's office.
The entire wall behind Dumbledore's seat was covered in portraits of what she assumed to be former Headmasters and Headmistresses. They fell silent as she entered, gazing at her with unabashed curiosity.
A large cabinet stood against one of the other walls, and like Dumbledore's desk, it was full of strange-looking silver instruments. Next to the other wall stood a bird perch, upon which what was unmistakably a Phoenix sat preening itself.
"Ah, Miss Weasley. Please, sit."
She did so, her terror returning in a torrent as she pulled a chair out and sat.
Dumbledore looked older than ever before, his face seeming more lined that even it had yesterday.
"You have heard about Professor Moody?" Dumbledore asked with a sigh.
She nodded, trying to ignore the feeling like her chest was about to burst.
"They said that-that he was really a Death Eater impersonating Moody."
"Precisely. Miss Weasley, once again I owe you a tremendous apology. You should never have been exposed to such a man, not at Hogwarts. The burden of our students' security falls upon my shoulders, and twice now I have let you down. I am deeply, deeply sorry."
"Thank you," she said softly, her eyes focused on the strange silver tripod on his desk.
"There are a few questions I need to ask you, pertaining to the private lessons the imposter was giving you."
She nodded again, focusing her thoughts.
She'd prepared for this, ever since Barty said he might have to run. Prepared for the questions that would inevitably come in such a situation.
She just hoped that she'd prepared enough.
"What was he teaching you, during your lessons?"
"Mostly-mostly stuff that we'd be doing next year. Or theory. He spoke a lot about counter curses, and-and self-defence manoeuvres. And he-he was showing me how to-to recognize dark magic, and how to fight it."
Dumbledore steepled his fingers, fixing his piercing blue eyes on her.
"That is precisely what he said he would do," he murmured. "Was there anything that you can think of that seemed out of place? Any spells that made you wonder why he was teaching them to you?"
She furrowed her brow for a moment before shaking her head.
"It was all-most of the time it was based on questions I asked, or things I wanted to learn."
Those eyes did not move from her, but Dumbledore seemed slightly calmer.
She stifled the relief that tried to raise itself, forcing herself to remain on guard, to keep her mind watching for any attempted Legilimency.
"Did he talk to you? Or was your time entirely consumed by learning?"
She looked down, her hands twiddling mindlessly in her lap.
"We-we spoke a lot. About what-what happened in my first year. With the diary."
It suddenly hit her then, that she would never speak to Barty again, that she would never hear a compliment from him again. She'd never get to show him when the Dark Lord one day Marked her. She'd never get to see his real face.
He'd understood her like no one else, and he was gone.
She barely even realized that she was crying.
"He-he said he would teach me about possession, about how you can figure out if it's happening and how to-to stop it. And he seemed like-like he cared."
"He played his act to the fullest," Dumbledore said kindly, "but you did nothing wrong. The ability to place trust in another is a strength. I am sorry for pressing, but I must ask: did he say anything about muggles? Or muggleborns, perhaps?"
"Only that-that most wizards forget that muggles can also be dangerous. But he-he never really spoke about them. It was about what we were learning, or about-about me."
"Did he say anything about Voldemort or the other Death Eaters?"
"Only how much he hated them," she said, shaking her head.
"Have you experienced any memory loss this year?"
"No."
"I would like you to visit Madam Pomphrey. She will check you for any signs of Memory Charms."
She nodded, fighting the urge to just run.
"Try not to regret trusting him. You had no reason not to. Please, Miss Weasley, talk to your friends and family about this. Do not allow the emotions his deception has caused to fester within you."
"You did nothing wrong," Dumbledore continued, "It appears that Barty Jr was a most talented actor. I have known Alastor Moody for decades, and I was fooled by him. You must not feel like you were at fault. Every other student and teacher was taken in by his act, as were the others to whom he was giving private lessons. You did nothing wrong, Miss Weasley. Do not allow this to spoil your ability to trust."
"I'll try, Headmaster."
"Please do. Your friends and family will surely be a solace in this troubling time."
She kept the relief hidden, not allowing it to rise and possibly show on her face.
But she knew that she was getting away with it.
"Please see Madam Pomphrey as soon as possible. Have a good day, Miss Weasley. Any questions or worries that you have, please, do not hesitate to raise them with Professor McGonagall or me."
"I will," she said, finally standing up, "Thank you, Headmaster."
He shook his head sadly, sighing again.
"Not at all, my dear girl."
A few hours after Dumbledore had spoken to her, Ginny was sitting next to the lake with her hands around her knees when someone joined her.
She didn't have to turn around to look and see who it was. The strange, somehow appealing scent of Luna's perfume had announced her presence as strongly as a greeting would have.
Luna didn't say a word, instead simply sitting down next to her and placing a hand on her shoulder.
Like far too many other people, Luna knew about her extra lessons with Barty.
They sat in silence for what felt like over an hour, watching as the occasional tentacle rippled through the surface of the lake.
"You're invited to us again this summer," Luna said, "if you want to come."
Ginny nodded, turning to face her friend.
Luna was wearing a small, kind smile, her eyes soft and warm.
The sun had turned her hair into white flames again.
She didn't stop to think, didn't wonder about the sudden burning urge.
She leaned forward, her hand releasing Luna's and thrusting itself into that beautiful hair, pulling Luna's lips to meet hers.
It was nothing like kissing Higgs had been. Luna's lips were gentle and inviting against hers, her tongue hesitant as it moved forward.
Ginny's chest seemed to catch fire, a brilliant, pleasant energy flooding through her, making her pull Luna even closer and feel her breasts against her.
'Remember, it's just an act.'
She pulled away suddenly, her heart pounding away and her fingers shaking.
Luna looked blown away.
"I'd love to come," she said, forcing a smile even though she felt like weeping.
In the middle of the day of the end of year feast, Ginny was alone in her room when an owl arrived at the window.
It tapped its beak against the glass impatiently until she opened it when it then hopped onto her bedside table and stuck out its leg imperiously.
There was a single piece of parchment attached.
She knew before she even untied it who it was from.
Her hand was trembling so badly that the owl seemed to be having a fit, but she eventually managed to untie the note. When she did, the owl clipped her ear and launched itself from the window.
The parchment was blank.
She barely had time to wonder about that when writing appeared on it.
Handwriting that she recognized.
'This parchment is bespelled to your eyes only, nevertheless, you will not allow anyone else to see it.
I will see whatever you write on it, just as you will see what I write.
I understand that your family has joined Dumbledore's Order. You will be my deepest spy, giving no one any reason to suspect you. You will report all information that you hear, and will tell me everything you discover.
When the time is right, you will act according to my orders.
You will be my hidden hand. There are few I could trust with a mission such as this.
Barty will be avenged.'
It wasn't signed, but it didn't need to be. Even as she watched the writing slowly vanished from it.
She clutched the parchment close to her, mingled tears of joy and sorrow pouring down her face.
At least this summer she wouldn't be alone again.
She'd be able to write to him, just like when she'd first met him.
And she'd be useful, doing stuff that no one else could.
For the first time since Potter had ruined everything, she found herself looking forward to a holiday at home.