Hey guys! I'm back with chapter nine! Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing from Harry Potter's world.
P.S.- J.K. Rowling just gave birth! Woohoo! Congrats!
"Ginny! What's this?" The girl rolled her eyes. The worst part of skipping a grade was that she now had to share a dorm room with Lavender and Parvati. No one could keep a secret very secret for long.
"What Lavender?" She asked, trying to keep the boredom and exasperation out of her voice.
"This!" She squealed a very girlish screech. She was waving a bit of parchment in the air. "It was on the floor. Parvati said it wasn't hers and it's certainly not mine and Hermione- well we know it's not hers."
"Give me that." For a minute she stared, transfixed in horror. It was Malfoy's note. How could she have been so careless?
"Ohhh!" She squealed again. "It is yours! Spill! Who wrote it? How long have you been seeing someone?"
She shrugged. "It's not mine."
"Yes it is. I saw that look."
"What look? There was no look."
"I don't know why you're so embarrassed. I think it's terribly romantic."
"Listen, it's not mine."
"So you are embarrassed. Is poor little tom-boy Ginny afraid to admit she has a boyfriend?"
"I don't have a boyfriend."
"Ohh…is he someone really awful. Like…Neville!?! Is it Neville?"
"Oh, do shut up. If you really must know it was my…" She paused.
Think quickly, Ginny! Think!
"My brother. My brother sent me that."
"Your brother wants to date you?"
Ginny sighed. Lavender was a twit. No two ways about it. "No, of course not. He just wanted to- you know…talk."
"He wanted to talk at C'est La Vie? Do you know what this place is? It's the nicest restaurant within fifty miles of the castle. The Weird Sister's were even spotted there!"
"Well...he didn't really want me to come. It was more of a spur of the moment kind of thing. His girlfriend…she, uh, got sick and had to cancel. So he invited me along, you know, waste not."
"Hmmm…Which brother?"
"Bill." She blurted the first name she could think of.
"Is he the one with the dragons?"
"No, he's the one at Gringotts."
"Oh, the dreamy one with the long hair?"
She wasn't accustomed to her brothers being described as dreamy. "I…er…I guess."
Lavender raised an eyebrow and examined the girl. "Ginny Weasley, I think you're lying to me."
So maybe she wasn't as much of a twit as Ginny had thought.
"Lavender, you really must cut back on the romance novels. Not everything has a wonderfully romantic reason behind."
"Well, if he doesn't go to Hogwarts how did he know when you're Hogsmeade weekend would be? And what exactly is this little secret of yours?"
"He-er-didn't know. He was just, you know, hoping. And he's…I can't tell you it's a secret." She said, beaming with happiness as she had thought up the perfect excuse. Secrets drove Lavender crazy.
"Ohh, please tell me, Ginny."
"Well…promise you won't tell anyone?" She said, faking indecision
"Of course!" She whispered, her eyes taking on a glint of mischief.
"Well…my brother's going to propose to his girlfriend and I'm helping him plan out the whole event. It's going to be a huge affair with flowers and fancy food, and gowns and pie."
"Pie?"
"Yes. Pie."
"Why pie?"
"Bill and his girlfriend like pie, okay? Who am I to question their strange affection baked goods."
Pie, Ginny? That's got to be about the lamest excuse you've come up with all week! Pie indeed.
"Oh, how romantic! And he's taking you to C'est La Vie to see if it would be a good restaurant to propose in?"
"Ah…sure."
"Oh, can I help plan it, please Ginny!?"
"Yes, of course. In fact, I need you're opinion. I won't be able to go to La Vie this weekend. Have you been there? Is it a good location?"
"Oh yes!"
"Well, can you er…write down any suggestions you can think of and I'll give them to Bill, okay?"
The other girl didn't reply. She was already too busy deciding whether Bill should give his nonexistent girlfriend roses or lilies.
Ginny smiled. Lavender had wanted romance and she had gotten it. The fact that it was made up was a minor detail that Ginny was willing to overlook.
"See you later, I have to get to the infirmary."
"Hmm…horses would be nice. I bet we could get horses. Oh and roses, lots and lots of roses…"
Professor Snape was in a foul mood. Stubborn boy. Draco adamantly refused to disclose where he intended on staying over Christmas. The boy became flustered each time they spoke of it, but insisted that he was already taken care of. Plans, he said, have already been made. Plans indeed. He sighed. Draco was certainly Lucius's son. He sat, quill in hand, in his private office. Dipping the long feather in ink he slowly-ever so slowly- began to write. He placed each word carefully on the parchment, making a silent prayer with each letter that it wouldn't arouse suspicion. Writing the note took much longer then it should have.
Dear Narcissa,
I hope this finds you in good heath, dearest. Draco sends his warmest regards. Here at the castle it is quite cool (unseasonable for this month). However, Draco seems taken with it. He enjoys all his classes, save his Care of Magical Creatures, horrid as it is. He's head of all his classes, next to Granger. He seems to meet every challenge thrown at him, which very much reminds me of someone else I know. Like his parents he's at the top of the Slytherin hierarchy. His first official Hogsmeade weekend is coming, I expect he'll ask Pansy Parkinson tomorrow to go with him. I don't envy him the night he'll have to spend with her. I must go.
Fondest Regards,
Severus Snape
The owl chirped its impatience as Severus attacked the letter to its leg.
"Godspeed." He muttered as the thing flew gracefully out of the window. "Goodness knows we'll need it soon enough."
Another slow night at the infirmary. He smirked. She was trying very hard to appear interested in her homework. She hadn't even looked up at him when he had walked in, something she had never before done, even in the height of their arguments.
She was- or pretending to be, though he couldn't quite tell which- completely engrossed in an enormous volume.
For a minute he stared. She didn't seem to notice, indicating she was genuinely enthralled with whatever it was she was reading.
He had taken her suggestion and brought homework, but in the stuffy room it was hard to concentrate and his attention kept drifting back to the night before.
Over his own book, he sneaked a look at her. Throughout the day he had been watching her carefully. She showed no indication of the exhaustion she must have been feeling. She had been as vivacious and animated as ever. However now, closer, he could see dim shadows under her eyes.
Shaking his head, he returned to his reading. When he looked back up at her, her book had dropped slightly, revealing half of her face. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was shallow and even; she was very obviously asleep. So she had felt the effects of the sleepless night after all.
"Weasley."
She didn't stir. Nor did she look at all comfortable in the hard hospital chair.
"Weasley."
She turned in her sleep, dropping the book father down into her lap.
He hesitated a moment before reaching into his pocket and extracting a small, leather pouch. He reached inside it, and felt for the cool stone. He left it in his hand a moment, it was reassuring. After a moment he pulled the stone out of the small bag. A ring.
"Entrar Rêve."
He closed his eyes and suddenly the crisp, white, atmosphere of the hospital burst into a kaleidoscope of hazy colors and unfocused shapes. He blinked rapidly (though he realized that he was now asleep and wasn't capable of blinking) and slowly the shapes focused.
The Weasley girl was there and with her was a boy, no older then himself. They turned to face him seemingly oblivious to Draco's presence.
For a moment he was almost overcome with rage to see who the boys was. Harry.
Then, almost immediately he realized he was wrong. While the boy shared Potter's dark hair and pale complexion, he didn't possess the impossibly green eyes. And though he was approximately the same height and build as the Boy Wonder, his face lacked the telltale scar.
"I'm leaving now, Tom." Weasley said, looking slightly flustered. She walked away.
"No, Virginia, stay." He grabbed her wrist, keeping her from leaving him, and turned her towards him. He studied her for a moment, and wrapped his arms around her in what appeared to be an almost protective embrace. "You've changed since I last saw you. You're not at all how I remember."
"That's what happens in four years, Tom."
"Not to me." She didn't reply. "How old are you?"
"Fifteen. Almost sixteen." She cringed even as she spoke, as if some unknown force was pulling the answers from her against her will.
"We're almost the same age then. And what year?" He spoke like a schoolmaster, asking arithmetic of a student. Each time she delayed her answers he, ever the practical teacher, shot a stern look at his student, expecting her to know the answers he required of her.
"Seventh."
"And only fifteen?"
"Dumbledore-I- I skipped a grade. Please, Tom, I have to go. I shouldn't be speaking with you."
He continued on as if he hadn't heard the last part. "Skipped a grade, did you? That's my little bird for you. I always knew you were clever."
"But clearly not clever enough. I feel for your trick, didn't I?" She was just as he remembered. Even as a girl she had been strong. Had even tried to resist him with her little trick of throwing the book away. "Hush, my Little Bird, don't speak of such things."
"You know me. I speak only the truth."
He gave her a disapproving look. "Let's not fight, love. That's not what I came back for."
She was getting more agitated by the moment. The nervousness that had been apparent in her answers was quickly turning into anger. Fueled by fear.
"Then what did you come back for, Tom?" She pulled away from him. "To kill Harry? Or me? Is that it, Tom? You never were one to leave a job unfinished, were you?"
She backed away even more. Countering her every movement-her step back for his forward- he seemed to only grow closer to her.
He smiled indulgently. Yes, his student had answered wrong, had lost faith in him, but she could easily be bought back with praise. He could see the pain in her eyes. She was aching to have what they had once had. For him to be the kind, understanding, friend who listened to all her troubles, not the murdering monster. She was longing for his reassurance that it had all been some fantastically horrible nightmare.
"No, Virginia, no. I would never hurt you. You are far too dear to me."
"I don't believe you, Tom." She raised her chin defiantly. Maybe he had underestimated his little bird. Maybe she was even stronger then he thought. "Why did you come back?"
He smiled, and she had stopped her retreat. He wrapped her in his arms once more, "Did you ever think that I just missed you?" He whispered in her ears. He was so close…so real. He smirked as he felt the chills going down her back. He kissed her cheek and her whole body went stiff. "That maybe I need you?"
His lips were now perilously close to her face. She could feel his breathing. Maybe as a child this would have made her knees go weak, but now she was only capable of one emotion. Fear. Raw, burning fear.
Several things. A) I hated the first part of the chapter with Lavender. I've always just seen her as such an annoying ditz. And the pie? Well anyother one of my many inside jokes (most of which are with myself). BTW Armidillos!
B) It seemed a little too soon to put in another dream sequence, but... my muse wouldn't let me rest until I wrote this scene. So, sorry if you didn't like it so soon.
C) Hehehe...I have a challenge. I know Pro. Snape's letter sounded a bit...off. Well,I promise there is a reason for that. It's up to you to figure it out! Cookies to who ever does!
Now...I LOVE ALL MY REVIEWERS! YOU ARE SO SWEET, I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'D DO WITHOUT YOU! YOU'RE AMAZING!
Now, please, please, please review. I won't beg. Okay...soI will. PLEASE!?!