Ginny walked into the dungeon exactly five minutes after six, holding her breath and trying to convince herself that she was not afraid of Malfoy. Her racing heart and sweating palms begged to differ, however, as she entered the vast room and quickly scanned the length of it. She deflated like an old balloon when she saw that the room was empty.
Containing only the usual rubbish it always did, the entrance room was cleaner than Ginny had ever seen it, probably as a result of the more frequent use it received these days. The likes of Malfoy would not dare step into a dusty room, she was sure. Filch must have cleaned it after her last visit, two weeks before if she remembered right.
But all of those thoughts were just a distraction from the one occupying her mind: where in the bloody hell was Malfoy? She had always pegged him for the punctual and prim type, and she had expected an added minute of Crucio for her lateness, at least. And yet, he was nowhere to be found. He would not miss detention, would he? The thought was almost too ludicrous. Malfoy would never pass up a chance to torture a Weasley, not with his history with Ron.
"Ms. Weasley?"
Ginny whipped around so quickly her neck strained and her hand flew up automatically to touch the area twinging in pain. Her hand dropped again, in shock, when she saw who was standing in the doorway.
Filch shifted uncomfortably, his hands wringing in front of his body. "Didn't mean to frighten you," he mumbled, looking cross as ever.
Ginny opened her mouth but was at a loss for what to say. Luckily, just then, Mrs. Norris made her entrance and pranced over to Ginny. Automatically, she crouched to pet the cat. Mrs. Norris purred under the attention, as Ginny began combing through the tangles in her fur, and the sound along with the rhythmic motion restored Ginny to herself. She glanced back up at Filch with a small smile, "It's alright, sir. I was just expecting…" She trailed off.
Filch nodded emphatically. "The young Malfoy. He sent me to inform you that you will be cleaning trophies this evening."
Ginny froze, certain she had misheard the old caretaker. "What?" her mind raced as she stared at the uncomfortable man. He had to be joking, though it was awfully out of character for him. But Filch's face did not budge as he looked back at her. Her mind automatically leapt to the next logical conclusion. This must be a joke of Malfoy's, some psychological trick he had thought of to lure her into a sense of false hope and security. While sounding distinctly paranoid, Ginny could not dismiss the idea either. "What?" she repeated, head spinning.
Filch shifted on his feet again, still uncomfortable, as though he also recognized how ridiculous his words were. "That is what he said," Filch's gravelly voice was particularly gruff as he fumbled over words. "Malfoy said he could not come, and that you were to be given a cleaning task. The trophies were all I could think of that would keep you down here."
"Why couldn't Malfoy come?" Ginny demanded, even as her mind shrieked at her to shut up. This was a blessing; she should not question it. And Ginny certainly felt relief, but more than that, she felt a weird anger. Could Malfoy really not even be bothered to torture her? Was he that removed?
Filch shrugged helplessly. "He did not say."
Ginny shook herself then and stood up, ignoring the yowling Mrs. Norris who still wanted attention. She took pity on Filch, who was clearly uncomfortable with the entire situation. "Where are the trophies then?" she asked, planting her hands on her hips. "I don't want to stay down here for too long."
Filch slumped in relief and scurried off to retrieve the trophies, as promised. Mrs. Norris trotted after him eagerly, leaving Ginny standing in the dungeon room alone.
Malfoy was not coming. She almost had to keep repeating it to herself to believe it. Malfoy was not coming to torture her. Malfoy had passed up the chance, but not only that, he had disobeyed a direct command. Ginny was not sure where Malfoy ranked in the Death Eaters these days, but she was sure he could not just choose to not deliver a punishment. He should have at least sent someone else in his place. It stunk of suspicion and felt like a game, one Ginny was not sure she wanted the answer to.
What exactly was Malfoy playing at with her?
Ginny vowed to find out.
"He didn't show up?" Luna whispered through the shelf, her pursed lips the only thing Ginny could see from the other side.
They were in the library during their free period, which by luck or just chance fell at the same time. Poor Neville did not share that fortune, but Ginny and Luna tried, as often as possible, to meet up. The library was the safest place to meet up, as they could stand on either side of a shelf and converse without making it obvious that was what they were doing. Madame Pince of course knew, but the old bat, for once, kept her nose buried behind her desk. She, like every other Hogwarts teacher, had learned to be silent, but they were not on Snape's side. Ginny was grateful to the woman for her pretended ignorance. She needed these whispered conversations with Luna to keep her sanity, especially this morning.
"No," Ginny whispered, shaking her head as she replaced a book she had been pretending to browse. She pulled another down off the shelf. "He sent Filch to give me a cleaning task instead."
Luna's blue eyes appeared in the crack between shelf and book, wide with surprise. "You didn't get tortured at all?"
Again, Ginny shook her head, chewing on her already torn lip. She had been worrying it all night as she lay in bed, half convinced Malfoy would sweep in while she slept and torture her. That had definitely been paranoid, and yet, Ginny had been unable to relax.
"Most unusual," Luna whispered, eyes going hazy as her thoughts sent her tumbling into the spiral of her own mind. "Perhaps his staring was not as predatorial as I thought."
"What?" Ginny hissed, the image of a large snake rising, unbidden, into her mind. She recognized it, of course, as the Basilisk from the Chamber, but that was ridiculous. The Basilisk was dead, and Draco Malfoy was no massive snake.
Luna snapped back to the present and smiled slightly. "I thought his staring was because he wanted revenge, either on your brother or Harry. Since neither of them returned, he could seek it through you. I imagine both of them would be quite upset to hear of your harm at the hands of Malfoy."
Ginny gaped at her friend. "And why didn't you tell me this when I asked what you thought it meant?"
Luna shrugged. "There seemed to be no point in alarming you."
Ginny simultaneously wanted to strangle Luna and roll her eyes. Instead she drew in a breath and slowly released it, chanting that Malfoy was the one she was angry at, not Luna. And she was undeniably angry with Malfoy, though she had no idea why. It was almost as if she was offended that he considered her unworthy to torture. But that was truly an insane thought.
"Besides," Luna continued, walking further down the aisle and running her finger along the books' spines, "that is clearly not the case, since he did not take the opportunity to harm you. Maybe his staring is about something else. Have you ever interacted with Malfoy?"
Shaking her head, Ginny felt her brow furrow in confusion. "Not outside of trading insults on occasion, but nothing like what Harry and Ron and Hermione used to do. I think I've only spoken to him a handful of times."
Luna hummed, deep in thought again. Ginny let her think, knowing Luna was more likely to figure it out then she was. Luna was bright and insightful, and Ginny was far too consumed with paranoid thoughts to look at the situation straight.
And what a situation it was. Ginny wanted to glance around, feeling the ghost of gray eyes burning into her back. Malfoy's staring had unnerved her, but coupled with his absence last night, it became downright alarming. What did he have planned? Ginny feared a nasty plan, the diary floating through her mind. That had been his father's work, but how could Ginny know if Malfoy did not carry the same nasty streak, or worse?
"Maybe he likes you."
It took a second for the words to process, and then Ginny tripped and nearly toppled into the bookcase. "What?" her voice was too loud, and she watched as Madame Pince had to restrain herself from looking.
Luna sent her a disapproving look. "I said maybe Malfoy fancies you. It would certainly explain the staring, and why he would not want to hurt you."
Ginny could only stare in open-mouthed horror. Had Luna gone completely mad? Malfoy would never fancy a Weasley, never. But besides that, they were not even friends. He had only spoken to her the handful of times, and had never paid her the slightest bit of attention before this hellish year. It was ludicrous, and nauseating.
Luna could clearly tell the avenue of Ginny's thoughts, for the quiet girl giggled slightly and shrugged her thin shoulders. "It is awfully unlikely, but nothing is impossible. Or so they say." She began running her fingers along the spines of the books again, looking at ease. Ginny knew she should similarly try to look busy, or at least try to make it look not completely obvious that she was talking to Luna. But she was frozen to the spot, mind twisting down dark corridors and thrusting paranoid thoughts forward. She only snapped out of it when Luna's bright blue eyes appeared right in front of her again.
"I am sure there is a reason, Ginny," Luna said calmly. "The only trouble is finding out what that is."
Ginny shook her head and felt determination settled along her spine, turning it to steel as she stood up straighter. "Trust me, Luna, I plan to find out." She felt her eyes narrow, and her mind jumped to later that day, when she would see Malfoy in Dark Arts. She would ask him then, demand an answer. She would find a way. She could not continue on, having paranoid thoughts clouding her mind. She needed to know.
Ginny's fingers drummed against the wood of the desk, creating the only noise in the room. Demelza Robins, sitting next to her, gave her a dirty look, clearly not happy with the attention Ginny was drawing. But Ginny could not help it. She was on edge, unhappy, and anxious. Jack Sloper similarly kept shooting Ginny looks, but his were full of concern. It only made Ginny more edgy.
"Ms. Weasley," Amycus Carrow narrowed his eyes from where he had crammed his pudgy form behind his desk. "If you continue to tap your fingers against your desk, I will remove them."
Ginny had to restrain herself from flipping him off, gnashing her teeth together and glaring at the man. Demelza sucked in a shocked gasp of air and hastily bowed her head, and Ginny could not blame her. She was acting insane, glaring openly at Carrow, but damn it, she could not help it! Malfoy was sitting at the back of the classroom, had been the entire time, and yet he had not looked at even once. It was positively maddening!
Of course, Ginny also realized that what she was feeling was mad. She should be grateful Malfoy had dropped his weird obsession, but she was only further frustrated by it. Malfoy had been assigned to her Dark Arts class since the beginning of the year, meant to help Carrow keep control as an older student, and he had stared at her every single day. Except today.
It was too much for Ginny, who now had more questions than answers, and an unhealthy aggression churning in her stomach. She had not even began the assignment in front of her, sure to earn herself another punishment from Carrow.
But that was another thing. Carrow was acting as though he had won. He had observed Ginny walk into his room, and upon seeing her face (Ginny was sure she had looked unsettled) had smiled in victory. The dirty worm was acting as though she had been tortured last night, as though Malfoy had showed up! It made Ginny think that Carrow had no idea. But what was Malfoy thinking, lying to a professor? Why even bother with it all? What was his game?
Ginny dropped her head to her desk in defeat, wanting to beat her forehead against the wood but perfectly aware that action would definitely earn her a punishment, not to mention piss Demelza off even further. She sounded like Harry had his sixth year, obsessed with Malfoy and convinced he was plotting something. Except Malfoy had been planning something then, of course. It made it hard for Ginny to convince herself that she was being irrational.
A breeze ruffled Ginny's hair suddenly and she bolted upright, earning her yet another disapproving look from Demelza. Ginny gave the girl a dirty look of her own, regardless of their previous friendship. She did not care if Demelza wanted to avoid being punished; she was supposed to be a bloody Gryffindor for Merlin's sake.
Ginny turned her attention to glancing around, looking for the source of the breeze that had stirred her hair. She found nothing. No one was up from their seats, and no one was staring at her. Even Jack had returned to his work. She had almost given up, admitted that she was beyond paranoid now, when Ginny glanced down and saw the note.
It was folded up origami-style, and it looked a bit like a bird, which almost made Ginny break into nervous laughter. Had it flown to her, then? She supposed it was possible, magic and all, but who would send her a note in the middle of class? It was certainly risky, and stupid. She glanced around one last time before grabbing the note and unfolding it slowly, flinching every time it made even a bit of noise.
The paper was blank.
Ginny almost chucked it across the room and screamed her frustration. Instead, she bit her bottom lip, gasping when it began bleeding. Hastily, Ginny pressed her fingers to the wound, cursing herself for her habit of chewing on her lip when she was anxious or edgy. She sighed as pulled her bloodied fingers away, glaring at her own blood as though it was offensive. She was completely losing it then, no doubt about it. It was almost disappointing that it had only taken two months for Snape and the Carrows to get to her. It tasted bitter in her mouth.
Ginny grabbed the sheet of paper again, planning on crumpling it up. She almost screamed when writing suddenly appeared on the sheet. Dropping it as though it had caught fire, Ginny saw, with widening eyes, that she had wiped her blood on the paper unintentionally, and that this had caused the writing to appear all at once.
Do try to act more harmed, Weasley. Unless you want Carrow to know you weren't tortured last night. Then by all means, continue to act like you've committed a murder.
That was all it said, and Ginny blinked down at the note stupidly. It was not even signed. But Ginny knew who it was from, and the knowledge sent a hollow feeling through her stomach.
Draco Malfoy had to have sent the note. He was the only one besides Luna who knew, and the only one she could think of who would also be harmed by the knowledge. What did he think she was going to do though, march up to Carrow and announce that he had skipped the detention? Did he think she was suicidal?
Angrily, Ginny glared at the note, her blood churning and her face warming. She had half a mind to march over to Malfoy and thrust the note into his face. Of course, that was probably exactly what he expected her to do. Ginny had to stop herself from turning around and looking at him, sure that he was not looking at her. But again, that was probably what he expected, and also what he was warning her against.
Bitterly, Ginny admitted that Malfoy had a point. She was acting crazed today, and if she wanted Carrow to believe she had been tortured last night, then she needed to act like it. Ginny didn't much feel like acting weak in front of her enemies, but she did not fancy another detention either. Besides, if she wanted answers, then she needed Malfoy to see that she would keep his secret.
Picking up the note, Ginny studied the handwriting, struck by its familiarity. She could swear she had seen the handwriting before, though she could not place where. It did not make much sense, either, as she thought about it. Where would she have seen Malfoy's writing before? It was not like she had ever had classes with him. Her main interaction with him had been on the quidditch field or in the hallway. Had she glanced his handwriting on a paper?
No answer came forth, though that was hardly a surprise. It was just another question in an endless line of questions. But dye her hair and change her name, Ginny was going to find out the answers if it killed her. And she knew just who to get them from.
She folded up the note and stuck it quickly into her pocket. She would need it later tonight when she confronted him. Malfoy would answer to her. She would make him.
(AN: Hello! Okay so I am so sorry I haven't updated in awhile. I just had multiple ideas bouncing around in my head, and it took me awhile to figure out which one I wanted to go with. However, I am extremely excited about the direction I decided the story should go in. I won't make promises about when I'll next update, but hopefully, it will be quicker. Thanks for reading!)