CHAPTER ELEVEN
MCGONAGALL'S MEMORIAL
"Why did Ginny take off so early?"
"I'm not saying a word."
"How come she didn't eat any of her breakfast?"
"Probably to get away from you, you nosey git."
"Please? If you tell me I'll give you ten Galleons."
"I'm not saying a word, little bro."
"How about twenty? Oh, wait. Nevermind. I haven't got twenty Galleons. Probably because you don't pay me enough."
"Not my fault you spent it all on your day off," George said. They were in the breakroom at work. Fred was manning the front counter while Ron and George were taking a break.
"If I found twenty Galleons would you tell me?"
"No," said George vehemently.
"How come Ginny isn't coming into work this week?"
"I'm not saying a word. Ginny told me not to tell you, and I can't betray her trust."
"She's been keeping a lot from me lately," Ron said. He'd felt slightly hurt ever since Christmas Day.
"Hey, aren't you and Hermione going to Hogwarts to see McGonagall's Memorial today?"
"You can't change the subject on me."
"Sure I can." George looked out the window. He'd been doing that in a worried manner every few minutes-- it was starting to make Ron nervous.
"Why are you looking out the window?"
"To look at the progress of the snow."
"There's quite a bit on the ground..."
"Aargh!" George looked as if he was close to pulling out his hair by the roots. "Here. How about you have the day off. Go. Away."
"But then no one'd be--"
"I don't care. Fred and I have been taking care of the shop since long before you and Ginny got here. And it was a lot more peaceful before then, too, come to think of it. I'll see you back here tomorrow." He continued to stare out the window, apparently waiting for something.
Ron was surprised. His brother was being abrupt and didn't look cheerful at all. Having no other choice, he Disapparated to go find Hermione.
When Hermione entered Hogwarts Castle, she noticed several changes. The most obvious was that the staircases looked new. The old stairs had been knocked out during the war. They apparently had had to rebuild the entire first floor. The corridor that lead into the Great Wall (where the first years waited to be sorted) looked brand new, too.
The other change was that first years whispered as they walked by Ron, but she noticed they weren't whispering about Harry, or about Ron's less than average Quidditch skills. (His skills had gotten better over time.) They were talking about him in the reverent manner many had talked about Harry,
"Aack!" Hermione exclaimed as she jumped back. Cold water splashed over her ankles, and Ron glared up towards the ceiling.
"Weasley-kins back for another yearsies of Hogwarts?" Peeves said, looking absolutely delighted. He was carrying a water balloon in each of his transparent hands.
"Couldn't, I don't know, someone have at least cursed him in the head during the War?" Ron muttered.
"Ron!" Hermione scolded. "He's not alive, anyway. I don't think anyone could curse him."
"Well, there's got to be a way to--" he was interrupted by a scream close by. When Hermione and Ron looked to see what had caused the commotion, they saw that Peeves had thrown both water balloons at a third year.
"Let's go," Ron said, peeling off down the corridor and finding his way to the where the Slytherin dungeon used to be.
What they hadn't planned on was having to state the password. What would a Slytherin portrait be interested in? "Slimy gopher guts. Weasel brains. Green and silver..." Ron trailed off. "What do you think the answer is?"
"Alohomora!" Hermione tried, holding out her wand. Nothing happened. "Why didn't McGonagall tell you and Ginny the password at the pub? It would have made things so much easier!"
Just in time, McGonagall hurried down the hall. "There seems to have been quite a disturbance upstairs," she said, looking disapproving. "Our students have been mentioning a particular student in our midst. How come you're not inside?" She paused and lowered her voice. "I grant Mr. Weasley allowed you to stay with them?" McGonagall was addressing Hermione.
"Yes, he checked with the Ministry and everything, and they said they supposed it was fine. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley charmed the house so I would be safe in their care," Hermione explained.
"Very good," their former Transfiguration teacher said. "Again, why aren't you inside?"
"I don't know the password," Ron said.
"There's not supposed to be a password," she said, her lips in a thin line. "I set it so the door will automatically detect a former student. Vera, have you been forcing former Hogwarts students to give you a password?"
The tall blonde witch in the portrait nodded. "It's funny!" she said, evidently trying to hold back laughter.
By McGonagall's thin line she made with her lips, Hermione could tell she did not share Vera's sense of humor. "Open this door immediately. I shall leave you two alone."
The door swung open, and Hermione shut the door behind her.
Hermione was flabbergasted by what she saw inside. It was one thing to stare at Muggle photographs of people you once knew, but looking at wizarding photographs was a different matter entirely. People she went to school with were blinking at them. Hagrid, who was grinning at them from his corner, hopped into the portrait next to him and pointed at them as he said something to the portrait of Neville.
It was very bizarre, to see friends you once knew act like they were alive, but weren't able to talk to you.
"Where's Harry?" Ron said in a strange, strangled voice.
"I don't know," Hermione admitted, walking around the tiny room and looking at the artifacts. Pieces of wand and other objects people had left behind were displayed in tiny cases, much like a Muggle museum.
As they got to the other side of the room, they discovered another room. They opened the door, and what they saw inside made Hermione gasp. It was an entire room devoted to Harry, and to top it off, a giant portrait of him nearly filled an entire wall. The portrait didn't look as if it wanted to be seen. Harry was ducking under the frame, clearly hoping not to be seen, but his wild hair betrayed him. Every so often, he jumped back up, adjusted his glasses, or impatiently ran his fingers through his hair.
Much to her surprise, this seemed to be too much for Ron. He slid down against the wall that had portraits of Harry's mother, father and godfather, and it appeared as if three years of misery were finally catching up to him. He started out by covering up his eyes and refusing to let Hermione touch him, but then, as he finally began to cry, he allowed her to rub his back for a long time.
Hermione knew it was best to let him cry. She had treasured Harry's friendship since her first year at school, but she knew Ron and Harry shared something she never did. They had been boys together, had compared Quidditch teams, doodled inside each other's textbooks when she pretended not to notice, and she knew Harry loved to hear Ron's comments on just about everything. It had absolutely killed him during their fight fourth year, to not be able to hear Ron's jokes.
Ron took a couple of deep breaths, wiped his eyes furiously with his sleeve, and stood up. "I'm leaving." He stood up so quickly Lily Potter stared back at him, looking torn between disapproval and amusement.
As they walked out together, Ron slammed the door behind him, and Hermione thought it best to not mention what had just happened.
Ginny allowed the large double doors to slam shut behind her. She had been right-- Malfoy clearly was a man who was hanging on to the fact that he had once been very rich. A large cursive 'M' marked everything in the front room. The floor was dusty and she saw no signs of house elves.
She surveyed the room and her eyes stopped on something very interesting. It was a box-- no bigger than one of the Muggle music boxes her father insisted on bringing home-- but it shimmered and stood out against the dull tones of the room.
It was almost frightening, the beauty of this box. It was so out of place in the mansion that she was drawn to it. Ginny took a few nervous steps to the bookshelf and touched the smooth surface of the box.
Somehow, it didn't seem enough to touch it. She opened it, and the strangest sound filled the room. It was a deep, frightened human voice, but it sounded determined and nasty all the same:
"Just because I'm not killing people like you doesn't mean I'm on your side, Potter. Don't you get it? I think the Dark Lord is wrong. But the next time you and your friends come anywhere near me--"
Ginny shut the box quickly, heart pounding. Was that Draco? It sounded an awful lot like him. And was he talking to... Harry?
The box shimmered unhelpfully and she backed away from it. What was this box, and why was it here, in the Mansion? Deciding it better not to think too much about it, she stood in the middle of the floor, on top of a giant 'M', and waited to talk to Lucius, face to face.
She didn't have long to wait.
A few minutes later, Lucius stood in front of her. If it had been anyone else, she would have poked fun at the fact that he was very, very late. But this was Lucius Malfoy, and the man still frightened her.
"Hello, Ginevra," he said coldly.
Her heart hammered as she responded, "Hello, Mr. Malfoy" in the coollest voice she could muster under the circumstances.
"I have decided it would only be fair if you worked a few days in my Mansion, completely free of charge. As you may have noticed, people in my position are no longer allowed to have house elves, and with no wife and child, my house is not as, er, clean, as I would like. Therefore, you may spend the next two weeks cleaning my Mansion. This is fair retribution for what you did yesterday."
Ginny felt anger grow inside of her at being compared to a house elf, but she said nothing. The last time she had allowed anger to show she had been very, very sorry later.
"All right," she said, defiantly. Malfoy's eyes widened in a slightly mocking manner, and she wondered briefly if he had expected her to put up a bigger fuss, or to refuse him outright.
"Well, then, there are a few things for you to clean in this room, and then the kitchens need to be cleaned as well. I expect lunch to be served at noon sharp. Good day."
With a swish of his robes, Lucius turned and exited the room. Ginny waved her wand and got to work, thinking of as many curse words to describe him as she possibly could along the way.
