Hi! Thank you for your reviews on the last chapter. I don't know how to thank you, I'm so happy and glad that this fic please you. Again, I'm sorry for not answering, I'll try my best to do it for this chapter 3
Love you all
XX
Ginny had been sitting on a plastic chair for half an hour now. The sun was not yet up, but she was already wide awake and had even had breakfast.
With a cigarette between her lips, a blanket around her shoulders and a cap on her head, she was watching the Himalayan peaks gradually take shape with the first light of the was her favourite time of the day. Everything was still and silent, the world was sleeping, nature was just waking up and she could enjoy a few moments of peace.
She and Astoria had started a trek in the Indian mountains ten days earlier. They had taken the train from New Delhi to the foot of the mountains and then taken a car that dropped them off at the starting point of their ascent.
Their objective was simple: Astoria wanted to meet the communities living in the mountains and Ginny dreamt of photographing the Himalayan fauna and flora. The redhead had been interested in the various magical and ordinary species since the beginning of her travels. She had developed a passion for photographing these animals and plants with extraordinary characteristics.
Her pictures were full of them, immortalising unique scenes.
She also sometimes took portraits, especially of her fiancée, or of people they had met together on their travels. She enjoyed using a Muggle analogue camera for this, finding the results much more striking and expressive than those of wizarding cameras.
So, with some advice from a wizard friend they had met in the capital and a magical map showing them the way, the two women began their journey into the Indian mountains, ready to discover its unique landscape.
At the beginning of October, the temperatures were not yet too low and they had enough to sleep in tents without the risk of snow covering them when they woke up.
After ten days of walking, they had taken a well-deserved break at a hostel they found along the way. The red roofs of the buildings and the view over the valleys had motivated them to stop there.
The owners–like everywhere they had been since their arrival in the country–were naturally kind and hospitable. They had offered the couple the best of room since they had no other customers. It looked directly onto the surrounding mountains and the view of the sunset and sunrise was unbeatable.
As the sun began to rise, Ginny thought that this was the quietest place she had been yet. There was no sound from nature itself, as if the whole valley was asleep.
She watched the white smoke from her cigarette drift away in the morning breeze, before closing her eyes to enjoy the few moments of respite.
The more time passed, the more she realised how much she needed it. She had been travelling the world with her fiancée for almost two years now and, as much as she loved Astoria, she sometimes needed these peaceful moments.
Astoria was far from intrusive, overly chatty, clingy or unpleasant to be around, yet Ginny sometimes felt the need to get away. She had lived with her family all her life and knew enough about her limits to know when she needed some time alone. And her fiancée understood this perfectly, it was even she who had made Ginny understand it.
She had told Ginny many times that you don't choose your family and that the Weasleys tended to over-protect and coddle her. Ginny remembered all the times her mother had refused to let her participate in Order missions or even the Final Battle, and her brothers who always worried about what she was doing and with whom. They had prevented her from realising her dream of being a photographer right after the war, convincing her that it would be better for her to keep a permanent job closer to England.
Ginny was convinced that being the only girl did not help. Astoria had helped open her eyes to the fact that her mother dreamed of marrying her off to a man. She even had bitter memories of Ron's tantrums about the boys she had dated at Hogwarts, when he wanted her to remain innocent.
On that point, Astoria had added that Ginny's parents had even had inappropriate reactions to them both. Ginny had then realised that her mother had always seemed reluctant to let her date Astoria, let alone leave with her. Further proof of her desire to see her married to a man when she left Hogwarts.
Yet, despite all this rhetoric and questioning, she missed her family. The more the weeks went by, the less this distance suited her. She didn't dare say it, but she felt naive and weak. She secretly exchanged more and more letters with Charlie, Bill, and George. She detailed her days to her mother, something she hadn't even done at Hogwarts.
The more time passed, the stronger her homesickness grew.
Of course, she hadn't spoken to Astoria about it as she knew that Astoria didn't agree with her at all. Far from it. She was well aware that her fiancée was not only resenting of both their families, but was also avoiding the reality of the current state of England by travelling. Astoria turned a blind eye to all this and only opened cared to admire the landscapes she had dreamed of all her life.
They had already planned their next trip: Kenya. It was Ginny's idea, and she was exhilarated by the idea of being able to photograph giraffes or erumpents.
Yet, as she continued to stare into the smoke of her cigarette, she began to question this choice. Did she really want to move again? To spend several more weeks away from her family?
It would have been hypocritical of her to claim that she never wanted to travel. On the contrary, she had wanted to as much as Astoria, and for months, for years, she had been convinced that they couldn't have made a better choice. However, she felt that this long period of travel was coming to an end. She needed to go home. Her beliefs about her family were waning and she missed them. It was no longer working for her to mourn on her own. She had not yet buried her past as her fiancée had done.
All that remained was to convince Astoria. And for that, Ginny had an idea in the back of her mind. An idea that she knew would not leave her fiancée indifferent.
So, when Astoria joined her an hour later, two cups of hot tea in her hands, under the sunlight, the redhead jumped in.
"I'd like us to get married in England," she announced in a determined tone.
Astoria froze. She faced the mountains and raised her cup to her lips, but stopped before she could take a drop of vervain.
"I know we agreed on a low-key ceremony just between us, Ria, but I don't think I could handle my family not being there," Ginny continued, ready to take her chances no matter what.
Her fiancée's shoulders tensed and Ginny's stomach tightened. What if she refused? What if she called the whole thing off because she found Ginny had changed her mind?
"I can't wait any longer," she added as she left the comfort of her chair to join Astoria. "I want you to be my wife to the world, Ria. And I want to go home."
At these words, the brunette finally turned her head towards her. Her gaze was unfathomable.
"You want to go home," she repeated.
Ginny nodded, unsure. She didn't know how to act. She was afraid.
"I thought you wanted to go to Kenya."
"I miss my family," she merely replied. "More than anything. I know that–"
"Then go home," Astoria cut her off, turning her eyes back to the mountains. "You don't have to lie about wanting to get married quickly."
Ginny frowned at the cold tone her fiancée had used. She had expected her to react badly, but not to be unpleasant about it. Her anxiety only increased tenfold. What if she abandoned her now?
"That wasn't a lie, Astoria. You know very well that I always say what I think. I mean it, I want to marry you, I've told you a hundred times! And I want to do it in front of the only other people who matter to me."
"But you want to go home, too," Astoria declared, without reacting to the redhead's words.
If Ginny was hurt by this, she did nothing to let it be known. Her heart was compressed in her chest to the point where she no longer felt it beating and her stomach was all in knots.
"Yes. I've never been as happy as I've been in the last few years, for sure, but–"
"You want to break up with me? You're going to leave me, aren't you?"
"No! Never!" Ginny exclaimed as she walked over to her.
"You're going to stay with them and they'll stop you from leaving again!"
"I swear I will never leave you, Ria! You're everything to me, you're my whole life. I am happy here, with you, more than I have ever been."
"Then don't go back. If you're good here, don't go home," the brunette interrupted her again.
Ginny noticed that Astoria had tears stinging her eyes, though she was trying hard to hide it.
"I miss my family. I miss my brothers and my parents. I need to go home, to see them again, to spend time with them. And then I'd love them to meet you, to see the woman you are, to understand why I've spent so much time away from them. Let them know that I love you."
Astoria swallowed hard and looked down at her cup. Ginny knew how difficult her request was, but she wanted it so much.
"I promise we'll leave again. I'm not asking you to settle down in England for good, or even to go see your father or anyone else. I would just like to– to see them again."
The silence that followed was heavy. Too heavy. Painful. Ginny felt like she had just made a mistake, that she had just ruined everything.
Yet Astoria nodded. She nodded and Ginny felt her apprehensions leave her.
oOo
Hermione had sensed as soon as she woke up that something was wrong. A bad feeling, a heavy lump in her stomach. It was still dark, barely six o'clock in the morning, and yet she could feel that something was wrong. What was wrong? She had no idea yet.
She immediately checked that her room was empty, that no one was watching her. Her wand did not detect anyone, despite the magical weakness of the spell she cast. Still, something felt wrong.
In times of crisis, she had no choice but to use her magic, no matter how exhausting it was.
She kept her wand in her hand as she examined the adjoining bathroom. It was empty too, as was the dressing room. So whatever it was was not a close threat.
She went out into the upstairs hallway and turned on the lights, walking step by step along the wall. Her heart was pounding. This intuition was not leaving her. Something was wrong.
The hallway was empty. The door to Malfoy's room was closed and some dirty laundry was piled neatly in front of it. Light was shining through the lock, which informed her that he was inside. The bathroom, library and other bedrooms were also locked.
The threat wasn't upstairs. Hermione swallowed. Her mind was fixed on one thing: something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong.
She went down the stairs one step at a time, wand held out in front of her. Her hand trembled with the rhythm of her heartbeat, but it wasn't enough to throw her off balance.
The lights on the ground floor were all off. She paused to listen, ready to cast a spell at the first sound to be heard.
However, to her surprise, it was anything but human. There was no intruder. No. It was Albert.
She lowered her wand and rushed towards him as she heard him moan once more. It was faint, almost impossible to hear, yet Hermione recognised immediately that it was not a good sign. This was what had been nagging at her since she woke up, this was what was wrong.
He was lying by the fireplace and as she flicked it on with her wand feverishly, Hermione noticed that his breathing seemed deep and slow. He was asleep, but that didn't stop him from being in pain.
She placed a trembling hand in his white coat and stroked him gently. She knew the signs of potential illness. Albert was indisposed in one way or another and she had to help him.
However, she had no immediate way of doing so and felt a lump of anxiety form in her throat as she realised this. The vet in the next village was not within walking distance. Nor would she be able to borrow her butcher's car for the day without having given him prior notice. All the options she had considered were falling apart, one by one. At best, she could go the next day, since the day's bus had already gone by.
Some of her acquaintances in the village had sometimes offered to examine Albert on the rare occasions when he had fallen ill, but she had always refused despite the distance she had to travel to get to a vet. She couldn't trust them, she couldn't help it. They were not professional and no matter how knowledgeable they were, it was never enough for her–for Albert.
She had taken her licence test the year after she adopted her dog. She hadn't had much trouble getting the certificate, since her father had taught her the basics of driving the year she turned seventeen. The only thing that had confused her was the fact that cars drove on the right and not on the left. Otherwise, she had passed the test on the first try.
It was very rare that she drove, which explained the fact that she did not have a car of her own. The last time she had to borrow the butcher's car was for a visit to Albert's vet. Even then, she still preferred to go by public transport. She was never confident when driving and she would rather not sleep for two days because of the stress of taking the bus than risk an accident.
This time, the appointment would not be scheduled and the very idea panicked her.
She would barely have time to mentally prepare herself to leave her comfort zone, her village, her home. There would be no time to tame the car, to learn to drive it again. She wouldn't have time to–She wouldn't–
Hermione closed her eyes and sat back on her heels, her fists clenched on her thighs and her head bowed. She'd been down this road before, she knew it, she could do it. It would be in Albert's interest. For him.
For him, she could do it. She had to do it.
She gently stroked his head, taking long breaths to calm herself. Albert opened his eyes, without moving more than that.
"You're going to stay here today, I'm going to call the vet this morning," she told him with a sad smile.
He just licked her hand affectionately in response.
oOo
A long corridor. An undecorated bathroom that looked terrible. A storeroom with sheets folded on shelves and a huge, strange white box. A large room that contained nothing but muggle items with spikes.
That was everything Draco had discovered in a week. He had gone downstairs every day, taking the time to visit every corner of the ground floor.
The only room he had not yet been in was the kitchen, which he knew was next to the living room. The hatch had given him a small glimpse of it, but he had not yet dared to venture into it.
Although he thought it stupid and weak, he couldn't help thinking that it would be the end of his discoveries. It would be over. And, if nothing else, the thought was a mood killer. It would be a change from his usual routine of stretching himself and he felt that no new challenges would await him.
Nevertheless, that morning he had decided to act. Once Granger was gone, his breakfast eaten, and his shower taken, Draco had set off in the direction of the ground floor and to the last unexplored room.
He already knew the stairs well, having used them a dozen times to visit the lower floor, but also because of the days he had spent on the stairs simply trying to get down them. A memory he would not easily forget.
Deciding not to linger too long on the rest of the ground floor, he headed straight for the kitchen door. Usually, he would have gone around all the rooms to get to know them better. A little bit every day was a strategy that seemed to work since his arrival in France. Yet this time he had a completely different goal in mind.
Something that–if he was being honest–was exciting. He had been dreaming about this room for days and imagining what he could do in it with the books he had found in the library. He read them every night and memorised a few of the recipes. He was always impressed to learn about the techniques that muggles used to make food that wizards made with a few swipes of their wands. He was eager to try it, to be able to occupy himself in a completely new way.
As he turned to face the kitchen door, something caught his eye. To his surprise, he came across a white, hairy mass slumped in the corner of the living room. A big surprise, to say the least. A frightening surprise.
Draco gasped and stepped back in fear.
He knew his face was neutral–habits were hard to be broken, after all–but he was sure his eyes were filled with dread. He was terrified.
He then realised that Granger's monster had not followed her earlier. How had he not noticed it before? Why hadn't he seen it when she had come out? He hated himself for being so unaware.
His heart was pounding. He was already imagining himself being devoured by this horrible, bloodthirsty beast. He had nothing to defend himself with. If he ran for the stairs, he would probably have time to escape. Unless the monstrosity jumped on him first.
It was far too risky.
He put a hand on an armchair and squeezed it so hard that his nails penetrated the velvet covering. He had to find a solution, and quickly. The beast seemed to be asleep at the moment but he couldn't be certain. It could very well be faking to kill him more easily, a technique he'd learned in his Care of Magical Creatures class at Hogwarts. Some creatures used it to better surprise their prey. And he had become one of them the moment he had entered the room.
He could already picture himself in his mother's arms. He imagined himself being devoured by this monster and buried six feet under. He could hear his blood pounding in his ears. He was too hot, yet cold at the same time. His vision was obstructed by little black spots as if he were on the verge of fainting. He felt like throwing up.
He took a step backwards, his eyes still fixed on the white monster, but caught his feet in the carpet and barely avoided falling to the floor because of the chair. This was enough to make a noise, however, and the beast's eyes turned sharply towards him.
Draco felt himself turn visibly white, if that was even possible considering his usual pallor. He was finished. He was sure of it.
He could already hear himself reciting magical words of blessing for his friends. Something to protect them for the future. To thank them for what they had done for him.
An ancient tradition he had learned in his youth. His father often repeated that he should thank Morgana and Merlin for giving him access to magic, that he should implore them to protect the living. Draco had never really questioned that. It was a fact, it was what he had always heard. He did it sometimes, although it had been a while since the last in this moment, when he imagined himself dying from the fangs of a bloodthirsty monster, it was the only thing he could think of. He was going to find his mother and had to ask Morgana and Merlin for protection.
Yet the beast did not move. It just stared at him, still slumped on the ground. It covered a quarter of the large carpet by itself.
He stood completely motionless, still balancing on the chair. Draco slowly allowed himself to take a closer look at the monster facing him.
Under his white coat it was difficult to discern any limbs, but Draco managed to find four legs. Its eyes were clear and its eyelashes as white as Draco's. Two ears protruded from its head and seemed to be erect and forward facing.
Draco felt his heartbeat quicken again. Was this an attempt to be intimidating? Was the beast going to attack him? He had never studied the position of the ears, he felt completely caught off guard.
The more he contemplated the monster, the more clues pointed to the fact that it could be a dog. But Draco knew nothing about dogs. He had never had one, nor had he been around one. He wasn't sure of anything relating to the animals and had never imagined that they could be this big. It was so frightening that it seemed absurd. A dog? This big? Impossible.
He felt threatened by the heavy look the beast gave him. Was it waiting for him to move before attacking him? He had to stay still. He couldn't afford to make the slightest movement. He was risking a lot, he could feel it.
With an extremely slow movement, without taking his eyes off the dog–he was still not sure about that–he tried to regain a balanced position and sat down on the arm of the chair. To his relief, the monster did not move. All he had to do was wait.
Ten minutes passed.
Then twenty, then thirty.
Draco began to feel worse and worse. The ghastly creature occasionally took its eyes off him, but it was never for very long. He had no time to motivate himself to move.
One hour.
Two hours.
This time he felt his body suffer. His buttocks were aching and his back was becoming more and more bent. He longed for just one thing: to fall into the chair and sit comfortably.
It took him another half hour to work up the courage to do so. The beast had had its eyes closed for a long time already. It was the perfect moment.
With all the slowness in the world, he straightened up just enough to slide off the armrest and fall onto the seat. At the touch of his body, the seat creaked slightly and Draco looked up sharply at the dog–he still wasn't sure about that–expecting to see it staring at him with a fierce look.
Thank Merlin he was wrong. The animal was sleeping. Peacefully. It hadn't moved a muscle since Draco had come downstairs.
Draco sighed with relief and dropped quietly against the back of the chair. There was only one thing left to do: wait.
Well, more precisely, to wait for Granger's return. And that would be a long, long time.
Draco managed to reassure himself, however, that this would give him enough time to mentally prepare himself for the fact that he was going to see his housemate somewhere other than upstairs. That she would know he had come downstairs.
What if that changed things?
And that's it! See you next Thursday!
Thanks to Acciobraincells, Dressedpencil and DontStopHerNow for their help! Don't forget to comment and follow the story to support me ;)