Disclaimer: Not mine, and not for profit.
Author's Notes: Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! If anyone's wondering, I will be finishing this fic, and it doesn't matter if one person's reading it or if 100 people are, I will finish it. Once again, thanks for reading!
Chapter 19: Saving Ginny
"Draco," called Hermione, her stare rooted to the girl with the frightened eyes, body straining and shuddering against the invisible bonds, "Go get Madam Pomfrey."
But Draco could only gaze with a kind of horrified fascination at Ginny. He was shocked and curious, and yet…he felt as if the air around him were getting thicker, slimier. His hair stood on end, and he could feel the skin crawl on the back of his neck. There was something not quite right with this situation, but by Merlin he could not bring himself to turn away.
"Draco!" Hermione's voice, now louder and more panicked brought him out of his trance, "Go get Madam Pomfrey now! And after that owl the Weasleys and call Professor Sinistra!"
"Oh, ok, sure." He seemed confused for a second but then bolted on his feet towards Pomfrey's office.
Slowly, carefully, Hermione walked towards the girl she hoped in all her heart was Ginny. If that was Ginny…if that really was Ginny…
Then I have not entirely failed you, Ron.
Because the destruction of Hogwarts, she could take. Its invasion by the Dementors she could handle. And although the multitude of injuries and ailments that could be seen all around the castle were heartbreaking and cruel, Hermione could look at them, and then look forward, thinking of that soon, not now, but soon, in the future they would get better - of how they would rise up and fight back, of how everything, the castle, the society, the way of life, the people…the innocence of the Wizarding World were still salvageable.
Ginny Weasley however was the face of her undeniable failure. Her regret. Of how she was and would always be unaccountable to Harry and Ron.
The fact that the girl now was stirring, seemingly really alive – lit a fire in her heart.
"Ginny?" she called out, softly. "Ginny is that really you?"
The girl whimpered in assent. "Hermione…I…he's got me. I…I can only be here for a while, it's so difficult…"
"Got you where, Ginny? Where has he got you?" said Hermione sharply in alarm.
"I…I…" Ginny looked bewildered at the question. "Not…not here. I'm not here…"
By now Hermione had reached Ginny's bed, and she sat on the chair beside her and held her hand cautiously. In the periphery of her vision she could see the large form of Madam Pomfrey bustle out of her office and stride towards them. Draco it seemed had hurried out of the infirmary to do what she'd told him to earlier.
"Miss Granger, what's going on?" asked Madam Pomfrey in her strident voice, but Hermione ignored her, gazing steadfastly at Ginny.
"What do you mean you're not here? Ginny, I'm right here with you. Don't be afraid."
"No he's…but yes…I am here now…but…I don't know for…for how long." She sounded so lost and young and alone that Hermione ached to wrap her arms around her to comfort her.
"Ginny…Ginny look at me, tell me what's been going on."
But Ginny seemed in a world of her own, as she had apparently been in the months where something else had overtaken her body. "I…he's always there. Laughing at me. I see him all the time. I see the people he kills and tortures…I hate…hate…it's horrible!" Her skinny arm shot out to grasp at Hermione's fingers, grasping them, but too weak to hold on. Her clammy fingers slipped through Hermione's own to fall forlornly to the mattress.
Suddenly, she looked up, blood-shot eyes staring eerily straight at Hermione, "Don't let him get me again." And just like it had never happened, the red-haired girl flopped back onto the bed like a fish and then lay still.
"Ginny," Hermione could only stare wide-eyed at her. "Ginny…" panic settled in and she started shaking her by the shoulders, shouting "Ginny!" the whole while, ignoring Pomfrey who tried to pull her away.
No, this can't be…she was just here! Now she's like one dead…no…it's not possible.
With one final wrench Madam Pomfrey pulled her away from the bed, "Miss Granger! Control yourself!" and because she had also seen what had come to pass in her infirmary, Madam Pomfrey walked silently to Miss Weasley's bed and gazed at her in some kind of numb shock.
Right at this moment Draco burst into the room once again, this time bringing Professors Sinistra, Flitwick, and Arthur and Molly Weasley.
"Here! There she is! That's where we found her and…" his words trailed off upon seeing the once again prone Ginny. "But we…"
"She was alive!" Hermione cried, cutting in, "She was right here! And now she's gone!"
As one it seemed Molly and Arthur turned to her, shocked yet hopeful expressions all over their faces. "Is this true?" whispered Mrs. Weasley, asking Madam Pomfrey imploringly.
"Well I…I don't really know…she seemed to be talking differently…"
"Mrs. Weasley, she was talking to me! She was talking to me like a human being!"
00000
A few days later what was left of the Order sat around in a circle in one of the abandoned classrooms of the castle. The group had by now included a rather shame-faced Neville Longbottom, whose fainting-spell had spread like wildfire through the castle, not doing much good to his already battered reputation. Something else had spread even faster though, and it was the news of Ginny's awakening.
The meeting was supposed to have been a discussion as to what should be done about the Weaselette, but two hours had gone by, and not only were they were no closer to coming to a decision, but Draco was also dead bored.
"But what if that wasn't really her?" argued Fred Weasley, an argument, Draco noted, that hadn't been changed in content just repeated in what seemed to be twenty different ways, "Almost a week has gone by and she's the same as she's always been! What if that was just You-Know-Who playing tricks on us? He's done that once before, through Ginny, what makes you think he isn't doing it again?"
Draco steeled himself for the sobbing he knew would next occur.
"Fred Weasley!" sobbed Molly Weasley right on cue, "Why are you so set against the idea that your sister might really have woken up? Why don't you want her to be saved?"
"It's not that I don't want her to be alright mum! I just don't want to get our hopes up!"
"But Hermione said that she's sure it was her! Fred just open your mind to the idea that she may be right! And what if she is? Then your poor baby sister has been stuck in there, getting tortured by You-Know-Who for who knows how long!"
And so on and so forth.
He was starting to regret ever agreeing to this idea of a meeting in the first place. Mind, while he did want Ginny to be all right and the sun to come up tomorrow and all that, he really couldn't see the point in all this. So she might be in there or she might be not. What did this do to help their cause against the Dark Lord? Why were they in here, wasting time on the Weasel family when they could be doing something much more constructive?
He glared at that chicken-shit Longbottom, who caught his eye and looked away quickly. Things like kicking our supposed would-be savior's arse into shape so that their side wouldn't be the laughing-stock of the Death Eaters at the very least?
He could see Hermione clenching her jaw, and knew immediately her feelings of helplessness in all this. She had been so heartbroken when the Weaselette just went out like a light after all she had told her. He reached out to hold her hand, smiling at her encouragingly. The fact that he could still smile non-sarcastically after all this was really a testament he supposed, as to how he felt about her.
He leaned over to whisper to her, "How are you holding up?"
She sighed heavily, "I…I don't know. I was so sure that it was her, but after all this, I…I really don't know what it was I saw and heard. Who knows if I'm right or wrong?"
"But…I thought you told me you were very sure? I mean…I remember feeling all weird when I saw her. Like little spiders crawling up my arm."
She rubbed her face tiredly, "The thing is…maybe I want her to be alright so badly, that it's clouding my judgment. Maybe I shouldn't have told the Weasleys so soon."
She turned back to the 'discussion' and Draco sighed and leaned back in his seat, stretching for what he knew to be a very long remainder of the meeting to come.
Another hour of sobbing and shouting ensued, with Hermione having to separate Arthur and Fred Weasley several times before they broke out in fisticuffs. Draco was even starting to look forward to spending time with that loser Longbottom. They were supposed to have a Hermione-mandated training session after this, and he grinned evilly. Dueling practice. And guess who the instructor was?
Another half-hour though of Hermione trying to explain to everyone again what she saw and of that wet-blanket Brown questioning her sarcastically and Draco just couldn't take it anymore. What was the point of this? Well if they weren't sure if she were in there or not, then why don't they just go in and find out?
And it was due to a large amount of mental exhaustion and irritation that caused Draco to blurt out what, on hindsight was an incredibly stupid suicide-mission, one he would not have ordinarily volunteered for, especially if it was to save a Weasley.
"Why don't I just perform Legilimency on her to find out, and then maybe I can finally leave this infernal meeting before Christmas!" he shouted loudly, shocking everyone into a deep silence.
All eyes turned to him, and Hermione frowned, "You can do that? You're a Legilimens? You never told me!" she said accusingly.
"Well you never asked alright? Snape taught me." he answered, a little irritated at her and at himself for turning all eyes uncomfortably on him.
"And how would he be able to perform it on her if she's either knocked out the whole time or in the form of that crazy banshee?" asked Lavender insensitively and loudly. Somewhere far-off Draco could hear a telltale sob coming from Mrs. Weasley.
"You shut your gob Lavender Brown," said Tonks, who turned to Madam Pomfrey and asked, "Would this work?"
"Well…I think…I could always give her a potion to put her in a half-trance I suppose. Would that work? She wouldn't be in her…um…other incarnation but she wouldn't totally unconscious either."
Hermione was biting her lips nervously, and said in half-excitement, "It could work. Oh, Mrs. Weasley, it could work! If she's really in there…if she's in there with some kind of entity that is a part of Voldemort…then perhaps Draco can try to enter her mind after she's taken that potion, and try to see if the real Ginny's in there or not."
"Wait a minute here," interrupted Arthur Weasley, "What if Hermione's wrong though? What if this is all an act by You-Know-who? What would happen then if you perform Legilimency on her?"
"Well…erm…" Draco scratched his head, thinking, "then she dies, and I probably fall into a coma from which I might never wake up." He really didn't know how to put this in a better sounding way.
The head of the Weasels' face seemed to become as red as his hair, and he barked out immediately, "Then absolutely not! I will not allow you to perform such a risky spell on my only daughter! What if she dies? Do you even care about that?"
"Hey old man were you even listening to what I said?" countered Draco in exasperation, "I said that there's a high chance that I would die too, along with her! I'm risking my own life as much as she is!"
He heard Fred begin saying, "So what you're a…" before Shacklebolt cut in. Draco supposed that the missing word was probably "Malfoy" or "Inbred Ferret" or "Wannabe Death Eater".
"He's right," said Shacklebolt, "If this has all been an act, then the only mind in Ginny's body is some kind of a remnant of Voldemort's. Without another mind to shield Mr. Malfoy, Voldemort would soon sense a foreign presence in there, and as the person performing the Legilimency might be able to access his secrets through the remnant mind, Voldemort may decide to cut his losses and pull the remnant mind out of her, to safeguard his secrets."
The room had by now gone quiet, and Shacklebolt looked around at the people in the room and then continued, "Once the remnant mind is gone Miss Weasley would die, as there would be nothing left in her to keep her alive. Mr. Malfoy's mind too could suffer great damage from the pull-out and Voldemort might attack him mentally as well, as a sort of retribution that's so typical of him."
Hermione's eyes went wide at this, "Then no. Don't do it Draco. The risk is too much for all of us." And while she knew she was being selfish, she couldn't help but want just this one to be safe. Just this one person to be safe for her.
"But…" and now all eyes turned to Molly Weasley. The plump woman's eyes were red from crying and her orange hair was as messy as a rat's nest, with strands of hair falling out of her bun like a mad woman's. But the figure she cut however to Draco was elegantly tragic and all-too familiarly noble and heart-broken. It brought to mind another woman, who was so beautiful and lovely and dignified despite the dirt streaking her face and the blood on her robes, despite her groveling on the floor, tears streaming down her face in anger, shame and sorrow. Against all the odds, right there and then, Molly Weasley reminded him of his mother.
"Wha…" the Weasley woman tried to control her heaving sobs and hiccups, and continued, "But what if she's stuck in her body somewhere after all? What is she's alive in there, and has been alive in there, suffering? So what if she'll die if this has been an act and Voldemort pulls out? In that case, she's always been dead this whole time. In that case she's left long ago, and is peaceful now. But if we don't find out now…and Fred, if you're wrong…then won't we be leaving Ginny in there to rot?"
Shacklebolt let out a deep breath and put his arm on her shoulder gently. "I understand, Mrs. Weasley. But you're risking Mr. Malfoy's life here as well. Maybe there's some other way…?"
And Draco didn't know if it was because she reminded him so much of his mother at the moment. He didn't know if maybe there was some kind of innate goodness in him after all, or if this was his way of making things up to his mother, or to the Weasleys, or to whomever. But he stood up, and stepped towards the woman of whose children he'd hated for so long, whose children he'd made life hell, and said simply, "I'll do it."
