Chapter 3: Dust and Weasel worries

Samantha sat down with a sigh, making Ginny glance up from her homework; quill posed about to begin writing an essay. "Can I help you," asked Ginny curiously raising an eyebrow. Samantha looked offended at being addressed in such a way. With a sigh, Ginny sat up and placed her quill back in the ink well, folded her hands, and looked at Samantha expectantly. For a moment there was silence, then Samantha leaned forward.

"It's Blaise," she complained with a huff, "he's so obnoxiously difficult!"

"He is a Slytherin," replied Ginny, not noticing the annoyed look two first years in emerald robes gave her as they passed the table.

"That's no excuse for being this annoying," Samantha huffed. "First he wants to see me then he doesn't. It's exasperating. I told him I'm running out energy and he just looked at me and said, 'aren't we all.' Can you imagine?" Samantha paused for dramatic effect.

"He said 'aren't we all'," Ginny repeated, twirling her hair in thought, "that's rather odd."

"I know," agreed Samantha excitedly. It had been ages since they had talked about boys on this level, without death and danger lurking around the corner.

"So you think it means he's tired of you as well," asked Ginny trying to read between the lines of Samantha's complaint. Samantha made a face.

"Is that what you think," asked Samantha worriedly.

But before Ginny could answer, Micheal strode up to the table and plopped down in the extra chair as if this was a perfectly natural thing for him to do- just plop down next to a girl who broke up with him and continually told him to go away. After a few moments of silence in which both Samantha and Ginny determinedly glared at Micheal, Micheal looked up with a smile. "Afternoon, Gin," Micheal nodded, "Samantha."

"Don't call me Gin," Ginny snapped automatically. Micheal paid her no attention continuing with his own conversation.

"I'm in this really interesting class these days, Gin. Magical Myths and Legends. It's fascinating. Today we learned about Mercuries shoes, this myth about a wizard from ancient Rome who actually made shoes that could fly as fast as they said Mercury could. But it was so fast that he couldn't get enough friction to stop and so had to run until he died. Then the shoes ran off of his feet," Micheal said excitedly. "Isn't that a silly myth? Naturally it's a myth, but not as absurd as some of the other myths I've learned about, like talking trees who protect forests, or witches and wizards who purify dark magic, or elves that work for some Muggle named "Saint Nicholas," or-"

"Wait," Ginny interrupted suddenly, "what's that about people who can purify the dark arts?"

Micheal gave her a strange look before explaining further. "Well according to myth there was a witch who could purify any substance, including people, of curses and hexes simply by touching them and willing it away. It's debatable whether or not such a person ever existed but ever since the story, people have talked about how the power could stop an unforgiveable curse from working, or change a werewolf back to a mortal with a single touch. It's fascinating, but not very likely," Micheal explained, not noticing the look Ginny and Samantha exchanged.

"Micheal, can you explain a bit more," Ginny ask interestedly. Micheal tapped his head in thought.

"I don't think so, Gin. According to the myth there was once a book made by the original witch that trained others with the power how to use it, but it was lost in time," Micheal explained holding his hands up and wiggling his fingers. It made the whole affair seem even more unbelievable. "It probably never existed at all," he said finally, leaning back and giving the two girls a smug smile.

Ginny took a moment to reflect on the fact that Micheal always looked smug after such stories, as if he had known information for ages and Ginny was far far behind the times. It was rather obnoxious. Sometimes after such rants he would be more arrogant than usual, taking Ginny's own books or essays and pretending as if he was so all-knowing he could assist her in classes he had never taken before. Such moods could last hours, days, or even weeks! To escape it, Ginny nodded at Samantha quickly, who leapt up.

"It's been nice, Micheal! See you around," Samantha called pulling Ginny and her things out of the Library before Micheal could stop them.

When they entered the hall, they huddled close to walk. "Do you think it's really a myth," asked Ginny curiously.

"I can't imagine how since you purified not one but two dark artifacts," Samantha hissed back excitedly. They had to dodge people left and right who headed towards the library or their own dormitory.

"But what about all that other stuff? About the werewolf and the book," asked Ginny curiously, "This could be a really powerful power and I've never even known I had it."

Samantha gave no answer, but pulled Ginny's arm to make her stop, almost making her lose balance. At the bottom of the stairway, just outside the Gyrffindor Commonroom entrance there were two or three men arguing about a painting being hung. Behind them stood a crowd of Gyffindors whispering angrily about the portrait and its content. Ginny rushed forward, breaking the link to Samantha's arm as she moved, though Samantha was close behind. As she pushed her way through, she caught a few of the conversations here and there- "Wasn't he a deatheater?" "Disgusting piece of junk I'd say." "Not even worth a penny." "Blimey! That is one travesty to the eyes!"

Ginny finally came to a stop at the front of the crowd, right behind the man who had just finished levitating the portrait to the correct spot. "That's it Henry," the man to the right said, giving the thumbs up sign. The man addressed as Henry flicked his wand forward and the portrait secured itself against the wall, the other portraits around it peered curiously to see the new arrival. "You've got to be kidding me. This is a joke, right," asked Ron Weasley's voice as the dream team pushed to the front.

Not that you needed to push to the front. The portrait must have been about the size of three or four Ginnys all standing on one another's heads. It took up more room than any other portrait. It was nicer as well, with a golden Victorian frame. And inside the frame was the smug face and torso of Draco Malfoy, looking down at all of them rather snottily in his Slytherin uniform, a broom over his shoulder. His gray eyes seemed to soften as he looked at Ginny, who stared flabbergasted back up at him. Her chest suddenly hurt a bit and she rubbed it, still watching the sides of the smug mouth twitch in an actual smile. "Rather stunning, don't you think," drawled a voice as people began to disperse, still making sounds of annoyance and disgust.

Ginny turned to find that everyone had left except the dream team, who stood watching suspiciously from the entrance to the commonroom, and Samantha who still stood by Ginny. Before Ginny was the speaker, Mr. Lucious Malfoy, cane and all. "One of the finer portraits of Draco, I think. His mother just couldn't bear to see it in the house anymore. We have so many and this one was right where we ate dinner. Most distressing for her," explained Lucious in his drawling tone. "So we've donated it. It's worth quite a sum but this part of Hogwarts is so low class. We thought it might spruce it up a bit." Ginny could see Ron's face turn red with annoyance and Hermione began to whisper comfortingly in his ear.

"I think you'll appreciate it," Lucious continued. Then his face changed slightly as he looked directly into Ginny's eyes and said, "Virginia- is it not?"

Ginny was so astounded at the use of her first full name by Lucious Malfoy that she could do nothing but nod. Lucious gave a light chuckle that sounded sarcastic though Ginny had an odd feeling it was not meant to be. "Yes well," Lucious continued, straightening his robes. He looked at the portrait sideways, a strange expression passing across his face. "I feel you will at least appreciate it. You need not attempt to save this one," Lucious Malfoy said after a moment of silence. With these parting words, Lucious Malfoy turned and disappeared down the hall leaving Ginny, the dream team, and Samantha to stand staring at the portrait in shock.

"Ginny," Samantha hissed, nudging her. Ginny looked at her still in a daze. Samantha nodded to a retreating figure who passed down the stairs, not giving the portrait a second look. The raven braids casually flew behind the figure. "Emily was listening the whole time, I saw," whispered Samantha. "Ginny? Are you listening?"

Ginny nodded, but she was not. "Lucious Malfoy just thanked me," Ginny said astounded by the words, though she had thought them up.

When she would think about the phenomenon a week later, it would not seem as impressive as what had occurred the next day. Ginny walked to the Gryffindor Tower after potions with Micheal. Micheal was being bothersome, as usual, trying to get her to go on a picnic, and ignoring her protests. They paused in front of Draco's portrait, long enough for Micheal to voice his disapproval and for Ginny to ignore it, staring into the smug gray eyes.

"Ginny, are you listening," asked Micheal as Ginny finally tore her eyes away from the portrait and entered he common room. "Not really," Ginny confessed. "I said, this owl looks like its waiting for you," Micheal explained, motioning to the owl that flew around the room just above their heads. On it's leg was tied a ribbon and attached to the other end of that was a rolled up note. "It's been there for ages," Micheal scolded.

Ginny reached up to get the letter but the owl remained too high. With a sigh, Micheal pulled a chair over and stood upon it, watching the owl for the perfect time. "The trick, dearest, is to make sure you watch the bird and the letter so as to time yourself to get the note but not the bird," Micheal explained as if talking to a small child. Ginny rolled her eyes, but was appreciative for Micheal's help. To prove what he had just said, Micheal watched the bird fly about for a good minute before his hand shot out and grabbed the letter.

No sooner had his hand grabbed it then the ribbon attached to the bird disappeared and the owl flew out the window, as if eager to get away. "Thanks, Micheal," Ginny said holding out her hand. Micheal made no movement, seeming stiff and frozen. "Micheal," Ginny asked concerned. A few people in the commonroom looked over. Ginny moved forward. When she was a foot or so away the stiff figure of Michael crumbled to the floor and began to twitch spasmatically, foam appearing at his mouth.

A girl nearby screamed. "Go get Professor McGonagol," commanded Ginny. A few students rushed off to follow the orders. While they were gone, Ginny listened to the twitching figures heart, it was pounding so fast it sounded as if would pound right out of his chest. She pressed her hands to his chest and stomach, trying to push the air in and out of the lungs that were not moving. She tries magic. Nothing worked.

Then she saw the letter. With all her might, Ginny pried Micheals hand open and removed the letter, tucking it into her back pocket. She lifted Micheal's hand to feel for a pulse. As quickly he had started twitching, he stopped. For a moment he lay there, not breathing, simply staring into space eyes half open. Ginny remembered what Bill had told her about CPR and put her hands in the right spot, pressing hard on Micheals lungs to make him breathe. Then she checked his pulse again. His robe sleeves where too long and she had to push them up in order to find his vein.

"What is going on, Ms. Weasley," Professor McGonagol almost screeched. She rushed forward to see Micheal, whose wrist Ginny still held, checking for a pulse. When McGonagol was only a few feet away, Micheal rolled over and gave a few coughs, coughing up white and brown dust on to the floor. "How do you feel," demanded Professor McGonagol.

Micheal blinked for a moment and then said, "Fine. Peachy actually. Never felt better." There was no sarcasm in his voice and he seemed to have become more chipper- less whiney- than the moments before his accident. Professor McGonagol looked suspiciously at the dust, then Ginny, then Micheal again. "Take him to the Hospital Wing, please," Professor McGonagol explained to the student next to her. They nodded and all but dragged Micheal behind them out of the common room as he protested saying he'd "never felt better, honest!"

Then professor McGonagol turned to Ginny and sighed. "Come with me, Ms. Weasley," she urged. The commonroom was silent as they exited, but Ginny was sure that as soon as the portrait hole closed, there would be much commotion. Sure enough, as the door began to close behind them, Ginny could already hear a buzz begin to rise in excited whispers.

Ginny followed Professor McGonagol, unsure of where she was being taken. As she passed the portrait, she looked up at Draco. The portrait seemed to look disapprovingly down at her. She shrugged and it tilted its head in what could have been a nonchalant sign. As if it was no big deal. "You wouldn't be saying that if you'd been there," Ginny muttered.

"What was that, Ms. Weasley," asked Professor McGonagol. Ginny looked up at her piercing eyes. "Oh, nothing, Professor," she replied sheepishly.

They walked in silence for a bit. The halls were strangely empty. It struck Ginny as odd, but at Hogwarts, it was hard to tell what was really odd. Finally they reached the gargoyle statue that stood in front of Professor Dumbledore's office. Professor McGonagol leaned forward and whispered in the statues ear and it jumped to life and out of the way. The stairway began to move and Ginny and Professor McGonagol were taken up to Dumbledore's office.

When they opened the door, they found Remus Lupin, Professor Snape, and Charlie Weasley waiting for them already. Remus seemed tired and Ginny reminded herself that af ull moon was coming up soon. Meanwhile Professor Snape looked at her with the same neutral expression he always wore and Charlie-

"oof!" Ginny made a noise as Charlie picked her up into a hug and spun her around. Placing her down once again he gave her a concerned look. "What have you been doing, little sister," he asked scoldingly, but his eyes were concerned.

"I haven't been doing anything," Ginny assured them annoyed.
"Well, your not doing anything sure gets around," Remus said with a tired smile. Ginny looked at them confused.

"Ginny, would you mind bringing me the letter that you received today," Professor Dumbledore asked. When Ginny gave him a confused look, he said, "possibly the one in your pocket that Micheal retrieved for you?"

"Oh!" she reached into her pocket and took out the scroll, handing it to Dumbledore. Professor Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, looking at it carefully because reaching out and opening it. Everyone in the room, including Ginny, leaned forward to see a bit of dust get caught in the wind and scatter across the room. "Just as I thought," Professor Dumbledore said.

All the adults in the room exchanged looks of understanding that Ginny did not understand. "Do you know what this dust is, Ginny," asked Professor Dumbledore. Ginny shrugged, but she felt a strange tingling in the back of her mind. As if on some level she already knew.

"It's the remaining magic from dark artifacts."

The room turned to see Emily Abeowan standing, dignified as always. "Ah Emily, how nice of you to join us," Professor Dumbledore said with twinkling eyes. "Ginny, have you met Emily?" Ginny nodded as Emily smiled at her.

"Where does the dust come from, Professor," Ginny asked confused. Professor Dumbledore nodded to Emily who stepped closer. "Ginny, you have a very rare power. We both do. It's a purifying power that disappeared for centuries. Well, didn't disappear, it really just went underground," Emily explained. "You and I are a dying breed. The most powerful of us, when trained, can stop the killing curse from killing by touching the person as it hits them. The least powerful can do this after years of training," Emily explained letting brown and white dust fall to the ground. "You," she continued, "are already as powerful as the least powerful trained Sanctifiers. That's what we are called. It has another name in a lost language, but we translate it to Sanctifiers."

Ginny looked at the adults in the room. Remus seemed intrigued. Dumbledore seemed unsurprised. McGonagol and Charlie seemed unsure, nervous. And Professor Snape was oddest of all. His expression was unreadable, but his hands seemed to move swiftly behind his back.

"Ginny, this power is extremely powerful and is able to save many lives. You are, in a sense, the ultimate weapon against the Dark Lord," Dumbledore said, "I suggest you train with Emily and learn as much as you can. How are Tuesdays for you?"

Ginny shrugged still unsure on what was occurring. Dumbledore clapped his hands as if this made the matter official. "Tuesday it is! Now I do believe it is about dinner time," Dumbledore said stroking his beard thoughtfully. Emily nodded and turned, motioning for Ginny to follow. Ginny gave the adults one last look, but they had all turned towards Professor Dumbledore, seeming to talk quickly and quietly. The only one who continued to look her way was Professor Snape, who watched as she left, giving her a strange look she couldn't read. The door closed and ended their confusing exchange.