SEPTEMBER 6th, 1997

Draco stared at the board he had assembled in the Malfoy family vault, biting his lip as he looked at the lines he had drawn between the different collections of words. He felt a little crazy, looking at it, but trying to hold all of these things in his head was too much. He didn't know how Ginny had done it for so long.

He was far enough back in the vault that he felt confident that there was little chance of his father finding his work, though he would of course disguise it once he left for the day. Blaise had called him a couple of hours ago, and as soon as they had stopped speaking he had raced down here, knowing that his room and the Malfoys' official library were both too public for this type of work.

They had found Morgana's brooch in Ravenclaw Tower, against all odds— Draco had laughed in disbelief once Blaise had called him, brooch in hand, smirking like a cat with a canary. Finally, finally, something was going right— he would kiss Luna the next time he saw her, he was so happy. Now he just had to figure out what question— or questions— to ask.

He looked again at the board, considering the clusters he had made.

Death — The Morrigan — Morgana — Alys — Ginny — ELENTIYA

Alys — Nicholas Malfoy — Standing Stones — Gem — The Morrigan

Morgana — Guinevere — Dragon?

The Morrigan — Crows— Alys— Standing Stones

The Second Sight — The Ritual of the Two Who Move as One — A Thin Place

Alys — Mushrooms?

Syrupy Potion — Trelawney — Portal — Prophecy— Ginny

Death — Wand — Stone — Cloak — Gem?

This was absolutely a dangerous thing for his father, or anyone else, to find.

"Alright, let's define our terms," he said, and began to write.

Death= The Morrigan

Thin Place= where "veil" is thin — standing stones; oak tree?; bridge?

Second Sight= seeing into other realities?

Syrupy Potion causes: Trelawney to prophesize, Ginny to activate gem, see into other reality, open portal — grants temporary second sight? Different from Alys & peers — permanent? How?

Elentiya= "golden heart," title granted by the Morrigan, passed down lineage from Morgana to … to Alys, "the last of her kind", then given to Ginny; protect from enemies, immortality once granted; Alys had ability to call for it but it was not automatic

He tapped his foot. He hadn't mentioned the possibility of the bridge being a thin place to Ginny, but once they had settled on what a thin place meant, Draco didn't see how it wouldn't qualify. It was a meeting place, not altogether in this reality, where their souls weren't entirely connected to their bodies. How much more thin could you get?

They knew the second sight existed, and felt fairly certain they had figured out what it was— the trouble was how to access it in a more permanent way. Apparently this ritual, whatever it was, would grant it, if done in a thin place.

Not ready to look at that particular topic just yet, he considered other variables.

Nicholas Malfoy - died in fire in 1346; caused by Alys? - "wicked men who walk the earth"; what happened to the village?

Guinevere - connected? Guinevere's Plight painting in original Malfoy Manor, but is it relevant, or is she just famous? Morgana= enemy of King Arthur

Deathly Hallows= gifts from Death to Peverell brothers; gifts from the Morrigan?; is the gem a Hallow or not, and does it matter? Ignotus Peverell initiated gifting of gem to Ginny; Hallows given ~ a century before Alys

Ritual of the Two Who Move as One—

Draco bit his lip. He couldn't avoid thinking about it— it was a solid third of the information they needed, after all. But Blaise's words echoed in his mind again and again…

Maybe he didn't have to ask about it. He was going to see visions of Morgana, and, contrary to the book's warning, he fully intended to ask more than one question — their need for information was too great, their options too limited. The only reason Ginny even needed to talk to Alys at all was because she was trying to figure out how to use the gem's power for herself. What if Draco could find that out, and bypass Alys altogether?

QUESTIONS TO ASK

How does Elentiya harness and use the power of the Morrigan?

How can Elentiya permanently gain the second sight?

What is the ritual of the two who move as one?

He would only ask if he didn't get enough information from the first two questions— third time's the charm, as the Muggle saying went. If Guinevere was important, she would likely show up in these visions of Morgana's — not worth wasting a question over. Same thing with mushrooms, and crows, though he felt fairly confident that the crows were a sign of a thin place.

He winced as his still-healing back twinged. Today was the first day that he was actually able to get up and walk around without hobbling, so that was an improvement. He couldn't see the injury, but he knew by the careful way his mother avoided talking about it that it would scar. What had Voldemort said? Now the back matches the front?

Draco's jaw tightened, and before he fully knew what he was doing, he punched the wall next to the chalkboard. They were all just pawns to him, stupid things to play with and ruin if he so decided. Goyle hadn't deserved the punishment he had gotten, and Draco hadn't either. A group of seventeen year old boys hadn't deserved being made, willingly or not, to murder a group of innocent Muggles. No matter how loyal his followers were, Voldemort would never truly value them. They were— what had Ginny said he had said?— replaceable.

Draco's scars told a story, really. Harry Potter had given him the scars on his chest, and Voldemort had given him the ones on his back. He was hated by both sides of this war— he didn't belong in either one. What that would mean for him when the war was over, no matter who won, was anyone's guess. When he was busy at the Ministry, or busy with Ginny, he didn't let himself think about it, but in this ancient, dusty catacomb… morbid thoughts crept up very easily.

If Voldemort were to win, Draco was on borrowed time— he knew that. He wouldn't be able to escape, not only due to his Dark Mark but because he would not leave Ginny behind, and the odds of her being able to escape a victorious Voldemort were less than zero. No, he would be killed if that were to come to pass— his "purpose" served, and Ginny would be left in the clutches of a monster with nothing and no one to defend her.

It couldn't be allowed to happen. The Order had to win. But if the Order won… well, unless a miracle happened, there would be a cell in Azkaban with his name on it.

He let out a deep sigh that he hadn't realized he had been holding. A little over a year ago, he had been terrified at the idea of his father going to Azkaban, and had been so relieved to discover that out of all of the Death Eaters, Lucius Malfoy had been the one to make it out of the Ministry of Magic unscathed. That had not quite turned out to be the blessing Draco had anticipated, but the very name Azkaban still terrified him. He had seen what it had done to Bellatrix. He wouldn't survive in there.

Everything was so impossibly heavy. He felt damned either way— Ginny loved him, but would they ever get a chance to live out their lives in the way they wanted, together? He didn't see how it could be possible.

But he had to hope. He had to hope, and if nothing else, get Ginny to a point where she could live out a normal, happy life, even if he couldn't. That would have to be enough.

Maybe she'll get her fairy tale ending with Potter after all, he thought with a bitter smirk, the words souring his stomach. Just the thought of the two of them together made him want to throw up, but if it meant that Ginny was safe and happy… well, he could learn to stomach that in Azkaban, he supposed.

He pulled the mirror out of his pocket. "Blaise Zabini."

The mist swirled and formed into Blaise's face almost immediately. "Back so soon? I don't care what you say, I think you miss me."

Draco smirked. "Never said I didn't. Just checking in, now that I've had some time to work. Is Lovegood asking questions?"

"She wants to see Ginny, or have some proof that she's alive and well. Or alive and sort of well… you get what I mean."

"Well, if everything goes according to plan, that should be possible. I figured out what to ask for the ritual, so I'll be ready as soon as you give it to me. Now it'll be up to Ginny to get us to Hogwarts."

"You're sure you want her to come along?"

"I absolutely don't want her to come along," Draco said. "But it's not entirely my decision. She thinks this is the best way forward, and with the amount of shit I've put her through, I think she deserves to make some decisions for herself."

"I think that's the most selfless thing I've ever heard you say."

Draco scoffed. "Hardly— you've seen her when she's mad. She's been mad at me enough— no need to add more fuel to the fire."

"You're not fooling anybody with that one."

Draco bowed his head. "Always the right thing at the wrong time."

"How is this the wrong time?"

"I can't afford to show weakness."

"You're in your own house, aren't you? Alone? Talking to your best friend in the whole world? If you can't show weakness there, where can you?"

On the bridge.

"Nowhere."

"Very realistic. Very practical."

"This is why you're not a Death Eater."

"I don't think that's why, actually."

"You never did give me a straight answer about that, by the way."

"I don't fancy being a soldier."

"You're not fooling anybody with that one."

Blaise shrugged. "Guess you'll have to ask me again some other time."

Draco sighed. "You're prepared, right? You've got the brooch, and the spell?"

"As I showed you a couple of hours ago, yes," he said. He reached down where Draco couldn't see and then brought the brooch into view.

It did look like the gem. Ginny had said that Morgana's Chocolate Frog Card showed her wearing a golden gem at the base of her neck, and this had to be it. It didn't glow, of course, but it was exactly the same shade, and faceted on its face just like the gem had appeared to be. Draco had never seen it in person, only in his father's memory of Godric's Hollow, but he had watched the memory so many times he felt like he could replay it verbatim at this point.

"Okay," Draco said. "Okay. So Ginny's going to get us to Hogwarts, and I'm guessing she will have to give a speech or something while she's there— we'll know more once… once she secures permission for us to go. Ideally I would be her only escort but I doubt it, plus we have Snape and the Carrows to contend with. You're going to have to—"

"Be casual. Yes. I know," Blaise said, rolling his eyes. "Trust me— I will make it work."

Draco bit his lip once again. "It's easy for you to roll your eyes, but if you knew what the stakes were…"

"You've already had one punishment, and you're not looking for another one. I get it."

"If he catches me in this, if he really figures out what I'm after, I'll die— that I'm certain of."

Voicing it aloud made it real in a way that nothing else had. His legs growing shaky, he sat down on the dusty ground and leaned against the stone wall.

"Then we need to make sure you don't get caught," Blaise said, fully serious now. "Two men and a saint, right?"

Draco laughed humorlessly. "Right."

"And Luna Lovegood, I suppose."

Draco laughed again, more genuinely this time. "And Luna Lovegood."

"You know what she told me? She said she was glad you and I are friends, so you didn't have to be lonely anymore."

Draco's eyes widened, remembering Ginny's words about loneliness. He could make a joke about it, or roll his eyes like Blaise would expect him to. Or… or he could try for sincerity. "Well… so am I. I'm glad you're my friend, Blaise."

Blaise smiled, a genuine smile without any snark— something Draco rarely got to see.

"I'm glad you're my friend too."

SEPTEMBER 6th, 1997

Ginny laid in bed, running her thumbs along the soft edge of her pajama sleeves over and over again in an attempt to soothe herself. This was going to be so dangerous. A million ways it could go wrong, and really only one way for it to go right. If she got caught in something…

If she got caught in something, she would definitely be in trouble. But she couldn't let Draco take on this risk by himself, not after what had happened when Harry had escaped from the Ministry. No, Voldemort would not be granting Draco any favors any time soon, and he couldn't be given reasons to look in Draco's mind. Draco was a skilled Occlumens, but Ginny did not want to gamble their entire mission on his ability to stand up to Lord Voldemort's talons in a direct assault.

She was the safer target. She couldn't die, she and Draco were choosing to act in such a way that all of her incriminating memories were on the bridge and thus inaccessible to Voldemort, and Voldemort wasn't about to torture her into insanity or something— he wanted her to "yield", and fully anticipated her still being around hundreds of years in the future.

The Draught of Living Death was a threat. Her family's well-being, and that of the other people on her list, was a threat. His promise to do everything he could to save Cordelia Barrows' life, and the possibility of him changing his mind, was a threat. But Ginny was less likely to get caught, and more likely to get what she wanted if she asked, if she played to his whims— certainly more likely than Draco would be. It was the best option, as far as she could tell.

He likes bargains. Exchanges. He wants to feel like he's rewarding me with something. He wants me to be obedient, but not docile in a way that doesn't fit with my personality— I can still be angry about whatever the situation is, I just can't "ruin" the moment. He wants to see me glow.

Hey, came Draco's voice, interrupting her thoughts. Are you awake?

Yeah, she said. Just going over everything one more time before I try to fall asleep.

Are you nervous?

Yes. But I still think this is the best option.

The least-bad option.

That's probably closer to the truth, yeah.

Don't… don't feel like you have to say yes to whatever he thinks up, in order to get us to Hogwarts. We can find another way if we have to.

Okay, she said, not sure she meant it. They needed this brooch very, very badly. Tom Riddle would have to ask for something absolutely heinous in order for her to decline the bargain… and, though she wouldn't tell this to Draco, she was fairly certain that declining wouldn't be an option if he decided the idea was appealing enough. She couldn't actually stop anything from happening in the dreamworld, and he wouldn't let her wake up until he was through with her for the night.

Her heartbeat quickened.

It's going to be alright, Draco said, and she once again had the impression of ocean waves lapping at her, calming her down. I love you, and I trust you, and I'm here to help you save the world. Reach for me when you wake up, and I'll be here, okay?

The sincerity of his words brought tears to Ginny's eyes. I love you too. I'll see you soon, okay?

Okay. Goodnight, Ginny.

Goodnight, Draco.

Would Ginny of a year ago ever have believed that Draco Malfoy could say those words at all, let alone to her? Definitely not. If she stopped to think about it, she couldn't wrap her mind around how much her life had changed. Was it really any wonder that it was hard to talk to her family now?

Now wasn't the time to think about that though. She needed to fall asleep.

She turned over on her side and closed her eyes, trying to content herself with the thought that, as long as she played along with whatever scenario he thought up, Tom generally didn't want to hurt her. It was the playing along part that was difficult.

Alys had done hard things, impossible things, for her village— but she had never once been willing to be anyone other than who she was, even when that put her in danger. Ginny would have to take a different approach.

…

Ginny's brow furrowed. Wherever they were was swelteringly hot, but not in a way she was used to— it was sticky, wherever she was. Her robes were already sticking to her skin.

"You always start off with your eyes scrunched close," Tom said, amusement in his voice. "Afraid of what you'll see?"

Ginny opened her eyes, and her eyebrows shot up as she took in their surroundings. They were in a forest— no, a jungle. She looked around in amazement, taking in the unfamiliar trees and the sounds of unknown animals calling to each other. Was that a monkey?

"Welcome to Thailand," Tom said.

"Wow," Ginny murmured, taking a hesitant step forward as she continued to look around. Creeping vines laced around the thin tree trunks, little white flowers blooming intermittently along them. "It's beautiful here."

"I thought you might like it," he said. "Come. We're not far from our destination, but we do have to walk a little ways."

He walked forward, off into the jungle, and Ginny followed behind, wishing she had something to wear other than thick robes.

Apparently picking up on her thoughts, the material of her robes thinned, and the sleeves disappeared. Her slip-on shoes became boots, allowing her to more easily walk through the underbrush.

"Thank you," she said toward his back. He didn't respond, just kept their pace moving forward.

Ginny needed to look down at the ground so as not to trip, but that was very difficult to do when there were so many sights calling her attention up above. There were indeed monkeys swinging in the trees, chittering above them as they passed, and brightly colored birds that took flight, soaring from branch to branch. None of the vegetation here was familiar to her— in some ways, it was like she had entered another world. She glanced around for any more of the tiger-striped flowers she had seen in a previous dream, but she didn't see any.

They continued to walk for several minutes, Ginny struggling to keep her thoughts neutral all the while. She couldn't remember a dream where they had gone this long without speaking, which gave her mind plenty of opportunity to imagine terrifying scenarios, both here and in the real world. She pushed them away, focusing on the sounds of nature around her and the feel of sunlight on her skin— tonight, beyond any other night, had to go smoothly. It wouldn't do for Tom to catch her not enjoying the moment, as he put it.

At long last, Tom held up his hand, indicating they should pause. Ginny stopped a couple of feet behind him and looked around— the jungle here looked the same as it had anywhere else. Why were they stopping?

"What do I always tell you?" he said.

"Patience."

"That's right." He walked up to a pair of trees that had grown intertwined with one another, and put his hand on their intersection before speaking in Parseltongue. Ginny grimaced, praying that whatever they were about to do didn't have to do with snakes, and watched as the two trees magically began to separate, creating… a portal!

"Not like the ones you've opened," he said, his eyes still on his work. "We're not leaving this plane— just going somewhere very special. Come."

The portal seemed to open up into the ground, leading into a tunnel. Tom descended and, after a brief moment of hesitation, Ginny followed, her mind fixated on how many snakes could be hiding in the dark.

"There aren't any snakes in here," Tom said in an amused voice, his back still to her. "Parseltongue is more commonly spoken in this part of the world. Wizards here use it for all sorts of things, including hiding away things that they want to keep hidden."

Things that they want to keep hidden? That didn't sound good… Ginny swallowed and pushed the thought out of her mind. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen— no sense worrying about it.

What had Draco said, all those months ago? He didn't like worrying about things that weren't right in front of him?

She flinched, sure that Tom would scold her for the thought, but he just kept moving forward.

They walked on for a little ways. It was cooler in this tunnel than it had been up above, but it was just as damp— the constant sound of trickling water echoed around them, mixing with their footfalls as they walked. It was nearly pitch-black at this point, and the constant fear Ginny struggled against in her stomach writhed like a living thing as they walked on, sure that she was about to step into something horrible.

"We're almost there," Tom said, and Ginny realized that the tunnel was indeed finally starting to get lighter. The sound of water had picked up as well, making it sound like they were standing under—

"A waterfall," Ginny blurted, making Tom laugh. "Is that where we're going?"

"You'll see."

They rounded a bend in the tunnel, and Ginny gasped. They had entered through the backside of a large stone cave— the roof of it had to be twenty feet high at least. The mouth of the cave was massive, a great open semi-circle carved from stone, and across the middle of the cave mouth flowed a great cascade of water— they had been going to a waterfall, just as she had suspected.

Tom walked forward through the cave, and Ginny hurried behind him. The water from the falls flowed into a burbling stream, coursing swiftly over stones that arced into the jungle beyond. The water was clear enough that Ginny could see right through it, both through the falls and in the stream below. The air seemed to hum with their presence, each step they took vibrating within the cave.

"This place has magic," Ginny said.

"Yes," Tom agreed. "Only wizards who know where to look, and can speak Parseltongue, can enter here."

"Why?"

"I'll show you. Come here." He waved his wand, drying off some of the stone floor near the falls, and sat down. Ginny hesitantly walked over to him and sat down maybe a foot or so away, ignoring her pounding heart.

"Look on the banks of the water."

She did, squinting to see, and soon noticed little clusters of the tiger-striped flower.

"This is where you saw them, then? Out in the… physical world." She had been about to say 'real world' but she thought better of it.

"Yes. This is, in fact, the only place in the world to see them, out in the wild."

"So rare," Ginny said, remembering the spicy scent of its bloom.

"The local wizards here have protected them. I know I mentioned they're useful in certain potions, but truth be told, they're quite a sought-after ingredient… particularly for those who study alchemy."

Alchemy. Ginny knew almost nothing about it, save for what Harry had told her about the Philosopher's Stone.

"You could think of it like the fundamental science behind magic," he said, leaning back on his hands, much like he had done on the shores of the Albanian lake. "The act of changing one thing into another. Transfiguration, Charms, Potions… they all have their root in alchemy."

"Why do alchemists want this flower?"

He was quiet for a moment, then said, "It has the power to purify other substances, no matter how corrupted the substance has become."

Ginny pondered that, unsure of what to say.

"You can see the appeal," he said in a flat voice. "Alchemy is difficult to master for a reason— it's incredibly finicky, and if you make a mistake, even a minor one, your work is more than likely ruined. Using the petals of this flower as a purifier for your other ingredients gives you the best possible starting point. And…" He trailed off for a moment, looking out at the water. "Certain kinds of Dark magic require you to purify yourself before undertaking the work, as well as the vessel required in its casting. There are multiple ways, but none better than this."

Dark magic. Had they come here for him to cast Dark magic?

He scoffed. "No, little saint. That's ancient history."

They sat for a moment in silence, Ginny keeping her focus on the waterfall, when there came a rustling in the jungle beyond them. They weren't alone.

"You're safe here," Tom whispered. "Watch."

She did watch, the trees swaying some in the distance, and gasped when the creatures finally broke through the tree line. A herd of elephants had approached the small stream, maybe fifteen all together, including a baby.

"The wizards' protections only keep humans out," Tom said, his eyes on the elephants. "They come here to drink the water— you can see how clear it is."

Ginny watched in delight as the baby elephant dipped its trunk into the water, never straying from its mother's side.

Alright, she thought as they continued to watch the elephants. I need to make my move.

"How did you ever learn all of these things?" she asked, keeping her gaze on the baby elephant. "Surely not at Hogwarts."

He barked a laugh. "No, though the school did offer alchemy as an elective for NEWT level students during my time. But most of my study, as you indicate, went beyond formal schooling. I spent nearly a decade traveling the world, learning from the most powerful wizards I could find, including the ones who watch over this cave."

"I suppose you can never be done learning, with how much there is to see out in the world," she said, leaning back on her arms to mimic his gesture. Before he could speak again, she said, "I miss it."

"You miss what?"

"Hogwarts."

That was true. Not a lie.

"Mm," Tom said, still not looking at her.

She looked down and away, trying to be demure. "I was thinking…"

"Out with it, little saint. Out with whatever you want to ask me."

"We've come to an understanding, you and I," she said, repeating a version of the words he had spoken at the fake Burrow. She glanced at him. "If I'm good for you, you reward me. And I think I've been being very good. I'd like to make a bargain."

He turned to look at her, and her breath hitched in her chest. His eyes were so cold.

"What does being good for me mean?" he asked, causing her to pause— not what she had expected him to ask.

"Doing what you want," she said after a moment. "Giving you what you want."

"And what do I want?"

"My obedience."

"Hmm." He looked away again, and Ginny fought back a frown.

No sense turning back now, she thought.

"I would like to visit Hogwarts," she said. "In the physical world. I miss it very much, and would like to be able to see it again, if only for a little while. I'd like to make a bargain— an exchange— for that chance. I had had the thought of maybe making a speech there or something. I was supposed to be doing all that media campaigning, right? We started with that Daily Prophet article, but I haven't heard anything else since then. With the… focus on children, I thought that might be an appropriate place."

"You've put a lot of thought into this," he said after a moment, making her stomach tighten.

"Yes," she agreed.

"Why?"

"Because I want you to say yes," she said— again, an honest answer.

"And yet you know that I don't care about your appearances in the media."

"You have to be a good ruler for your followers," Ginny said carefully. "That's what you told me once, right? That even though you don't care about it, they do, and so you would give it to them. And besides… I figured I couldn't just stroll into Hogwarts randomly, without some pretense for being there."

"You do want this very much," he said quietly.

Ginny forced herself to breathe evenly. "Yes."

The elephants had finished drinking now, and were on their way back through the jungle.

"Don't you think it's a funny coincidence that you, who were chosen by fate because of your purity, were drawn to one of the rarest flowers in the world, renowned for its purifying powers?" he asked, his gaze focused on the blooms.

"I… I suppose so, yes. I hadn't thought of it that way."

What did that have to do with anything?

"It has everything to do with everything," he said in a sharp tone, making her flinch. "Haven't you learned by now that there's no such as coincidence?

"Maybe I connected with the flower because it's pure and so is this magic I have," she said, eager to salvage the conversation.

"Like calls to like," he said. "An alchemical concept."

Ginny said nothing, letting him turn the idea over in his mind.

"A speech will satisfy my Death Eaters, little saint, but it does nothing for me. You'll have to offer something else in addition."

Ginny swallowed. "I'm open to negotiating," she said, echoing a previous dream.

He looked at her. "Even if it's something you won't like?"

She swallowed again.

"No harm will come to you. But you won't like it."

"What is it?"

"Stand up," he said as he rose to his feet. "All this talk of Hogwarts is making me nostalgic."

She cautiously stood, and the world around them rippled as it changed shape. She gasped once again— they were in the Great Hall. But she didn't recognize most of the teachers.

"This is what Hogwarts was like in my time," Tom said. His robes had changed to Slytherin ones, she noticed, and hers to Gryffindor. "There's a much younger Dumbledore over there, and Slughorn of course."

Professor Dumbledore had auburn hair here, and was jovially talking to a less-rotund Slughorn over dinner. Tears filled Ginny's eyes as she remembered the sight of his broken body at the foot of the Astronomy Tower, and she shook her head, trying to force the tears away.

"He was, for all his flaws, a great wizard," Tom said, following her gaze. "But of course he had to die."

Anger surged in Ginny's stomach, and she fought it down, making Tom laugh.

"There's a reaction I haven't seen from you in a little while. You've been so busy pleading for one thing or another, I had almost forgotten what your anger felt like."

Ginny said nothing, clenching her hands into fists.

"Are you sure you still want to go to Hogwarts?"

"Yes."

"Then take me to the place where we first met."

Ginny whipped her head around to look at him. He was grinning, his eyes alight with a cold gleam.

"I told you you wouldn't like it," he said, gloating. "But that's my price. We go down to the Chamber, you face your fear once and for all, and you show me just how brave you are. If you can do that, I'll let you go to Hogwarts."

"Can I… take a minute to prepare?" she asked, and he raised his eyebrows at her as he nodded.

They were standing right in the middle of the Great Hall, in between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables. Hoping that this wasn't a bad idea, she walked away from Tom, rounding the edge of the Hufflepuff table and walking toward the Gryffindors, keeping her eyes away from the ghost of a younger Dumbledore. She sat down at an empty spot at the Gryffindor table, the same place she might have sat with Kathleen or Neville or Harry in her own time.

Her palms were slick with sweat. The Chamber… never in her wildest dreams did she think Tom would ask for that. Did that fall under "absolutely heinous"?

In some ways, yes. He was asking because he thought she would say no, that there would be nothing worth that price. But if that was the price…

Ginny's vision grew spotty, and she gripped the edge of the table to steady herself. She barely remembered going into the Chamber itself, only struggling down in its depths… struggling with the diary as it sucked the life out of her. Could she really make herself walk back into that space, voluntarily, with the man who had tried to take her life in the first place?

She glanced up at Dumbledore, where he was laughing along with Slughorn. He was gone now. Had he been afraid when he died, or, once he realized he had been betrayed, had he faced it head-on?

Fred and George's voices echoed in her mind. "Anything's possible if you've got enough nerve, Gin!"

A flash of watching Draco torture Goyle came next. "It's how you get through hard things."

Then Draco's words… "I love you, and I trust you, and I'm here to help you save the world."

She rose to her feet. "Okay. I'm ready." She walked back toward the middle of the room, where Tom was waiting, amusement on his face.

"Let's see how far your bravery takes you. Lead the way."

Ginny took a deep breath, nodded, then walked past him out of the Great Hall. She could do this. She could do this.

The bathroom entrance to the Chamber was on the second floor. Would Moaning Myrtle be there? Or would she not have died yet, since they were back in the past?

"She hasn't died yet," Tom said from behind her. "What a cruel name for a murder victim. Poor little Mudblood Myrtle never did find justice, did she?"

"Moaning Myrtle is a nicer name than what you just said."

"Say it."

"Moaning Myrtle."

"Don't be coy," Tom snapped as they began to ascend the stairs.

Ginny took a deep breath. "Mudblood."

"Not so hard, was it?"

"No."

They walked in silence for a few moments, and Ginny paused when they reached the second floor landing. Even out in the physical world, she avoided this floor if at all possible.

"I'm not sure you'll be able to do it," Tom said, coming to stand next to her. "You could barely hold Nagini, after all."

The Basilisk would be in the Chamber— of course it would be, it wasn't dead yet. Why hadn't she thought of that?

"Well, I don't think I could hold a Basilisk, no matter how determined I was, so sounds like I'm in the clear," she deadpanned, and started walking again.

"Why do you want to go to Hogwarts?" he asked, making her heart skip a beat.

"I told you— I miss it very much. It's like… a home to me. Things have changed so much for me in the past few months. It makes me miss Hogwarts, and what it means to me, more."

Again, all true things.

"In some ways, Hogwarts is the only home I've ever known," Tom said, surprising her.

"That's why you wanted the founders' objects, then? Because of how you felt about Hogwarts?"

He paused, and the air seemed to grow colder for just a moment. "Yes. I wanted to be connected to their legacy."

"Being the Heir of Slytherin wasn't enough."

"Not when I could be connected to all four, no."

They had reached the bathroom. Ginny's hand shook a little as she reached for the handle, and she paused.

"Can I… try something?" she asked.

He waved her on.

She closed her eyes, remembering the joy of the Flitterbies, the warmth of her mother's hug, the way Draco's eyes twinkled when he told her he loved her.

She knew she had done it, before she even opened her eyes. She was glowing.

"How are you doing that?" he demanded.

"I don't know. It's a dream, right? I just focus on it, focus on happy things, and it happens. It wouldn't work in the re— the physical world. But here it's different."

His eyes were fixated on her. "Go on then, little saint. Lead the way down into darkness."

She wouldn't let this stop her. The very faint edge of the light around her felt like an insulator, like the world couldn't quite touch her here. She reached out, grabbed the handle, and pulled the bathroom door open.

It was less dilapidated in here than it would be in 1992– Ginny supposed that not having a volatile ghost for a permanent resident made a difference in the bathroom's functionality. She marched up to one of the sinks, where she knew the small, engraved snake would be waiting for her.

"You handled this part… before," she said, not looking at Tom. "Or is it after, since we're in the past?"

Tom laughed. "Both, I suppose." He walked to stand next to her, then said the one word of Parseltongue that Ginny knew— open. The sink slid down, revealing the Chamber's shadowy entrance, and Ginny could feel her hands grow sweatier.

It's alright, she willed herself. It's alright.

Without waiting for Tom's go-ahead, she walked forward and sat down, letting herself slide down the winding tunnel that would take her to the Chamber. Stale, damp air whipped around her, along with a fetid smell that was all too familiar to Ginny's subconscious. This place was rot and decay and death, it was—

Where she needed to go. She had the protection of a god, for Merlin's sake— she could be brave here. She had to be. And besides, not only could Tom not kill her… he didn't want to. She felt very certain of that at this point.

She reached the bottom, landing awkwardly, and scooted out of the way just in time as Tom arrived beside her. She laughed as she got to her feet.

"What are you laughing about?"

"Somehow I could never imagine you going down that giant slide," she said, stifling a giggle. "Not a very dignified entrance that Slytherin designed."

"Hmm," he said, but offered no further comment.

Still giggling slightly, holding onto whatever humor she could find in the situation, Ginny walked forward. Humor was very hard to hold onto— the smell was stifling almost immediately, and the pools of water on the ground brought her right back to her eleven year old self.

"You're sixteen. Not eleven," Tom said.

That was right. She wasn't eleven. She wasn't losing her soul down here. She started to walk further forward, but Tom was quicker. He walked past her, heading straight for Salazar Slytherin's statue at the end of the long column of snakes. He lifted his hand up, speaking in Parseltongue, and the statue's mouth began to open.

The sound of scales sliding against stone filled the room, and Ginny's chest suddenly became painfully, unbearably tight. No, no, no, she couldn't survive this—

She could. She had to. In order to get what she desperately wanted, she had to. She closed her eyes shut tight, knowing she had to avoid the monster's gaze.

"You don't," Tom said as a great splash sounded behind him— the basilisk had descended. "This is, as you say, a dream. What I will is reality here— and I say that you can look upon the basilisk without fear."

Ginny gulped, and made herself open her eyes. She stifled a scream as she looked upon the basilisk's face, its huge yellow eyes staring at her as it raised itself up to a towering height.

She was able to stop herself from screaming, but she couldn't stop herself from crying. How was she even back here at all? How was this happening—

Her glow was dimming.

"Come here, little saint."

"You'll protect me?" she said, speaking on instinct, remembering his hand reaching for her in the glen.

"What?"

"You'll protect me?" she repeated. "You won't let anything happen to me?"

"Yes. I'll protect you. Now come here, before I lose my patience."

That would not be a good thing. Her vision blurry, Ginny walked forward, her heart in her throat. She stopped when she was next to him, right in front of the basilisk. Its hide was bumpy, now that she was close enough to observe it. She wasn't positive, but she didn't think she had noticed that detail last time. It was all so fuzzy…

"Why are you not in danger from the basilisk?" he asked, his tone sharp.

"Because… because you control it," she tried.

"That's right. I control it. I control Nagini, and I control Slytherin's monster just the same. They answer to me alone, and will only hunt, will only attack, on my command. Are you prey, Ginny?"

She swallowed. "No, my lord."

"What are you?"

"Your saint."

"That's right. My precious saint."

He stepped behind her, and her mind instantly jumped to Rookwood's torture.

"Nothing like that," he whispered. "I'm going to help you— you're almost done. You're being very brave." He stepped up closer to her and, just like the last time he had done this, he grabbed her hands in his.

"I figured you wouldn't be able to do this part on your own," he continued. "But that's alright. We'll do it together."

And without any further preamble, he pressed her hand up flat against the basilisk's side.

She did scream then. She couldn't help it. Touching it made it terrifyingly real, too real, too real—

"Calm yourself," Tom said. "Like with Nagini. Calm down."

Her breathing came in ragged gasps, her heart beating so fast she couldn't distinguish one beat from the next. She had to calm down, but the thing she was touching was so beyond awful—

But she had to calm down. She closed her eyes, looking for something, anything, to steady herself, and was surprised to find she could hear Tom's steadily beating heart behind her. She listened to that heart beat, its calm, even rate, and slowly, so slowly, her breathing relaxed.

"Very good," Tom whispered in her ear. "So brave. So determined. I should never have doubted you."

"Th-thank you, my lord."

"You're going to be so good for me, once you finally yield," he said, and he couldn't hide the longing that had come into his voice. Ginny froze. What did that mean?

"So loyal. So good," he continued.

Their hands were still pressed to the basilisk when he kissed her cheek, and she woke with a start.

She sat bolt upright in bed, heart racing. She touched her cheek, the phantom of his touch lingering.

After a moment, she laid back down, intent on reaching for Draco. That better have fucking worked.

SEPTEMBER 7th, 1997

The next morning, Draco woke to his Dark Mark burning. He clenched his teeth in pain as he hurriedly dressed, pushed a brush haphazardly through his hair, and ran out of the house, intent on reaching the gate.

He had spoken to Ginny last night, after her dream had finally ended, but she had been shaken up enough that she had really just wanted to be held. She had done every demented thing the Dark Lord had asked for— hopefully it had been enough. He was either summoning Draco right now to give him the order to accompany Ginny to Hogwarts, or to murder him because he had somehow seen through Ginny's ruse.

That's not a helpful thought, he mused as he bolted down the front path, his arm burning without ceasing. Let's let that thought just… float away.

His mind on the sea, he took a deep breath as he walked through the gate and Apparated to Voldemort's home. Would he see Ginny right now? He hoped so, no matter what was about to happen.

I can't go in there thinking about Hogwarts, he scolded himself as he walked toward the front door. He pushed all memory of the school into a chest, deep under the water. If Ginny really had gotten them permission to go to Hogwarts, he couldn't screw it up with poor Occlumency.

He took a deep breath and forced his mind to return to the sea as he opened the door and went straight for the ballroom, his Death Eater robes swishing behind him. Taking another breath, he knocked on the ballroom doors.

"Enter," came Voldemort's voice, and Draco swallowed. He didn't sound immediately furious. That was good.

He opened the door, bowed in the direction of the Dark Lord, and started to walk forward. Ginny was on the dais, as he had hoped and expected, but they weren't alone— Dolohov was here, and so was Snape, and, shockingly, Theodore Nott.

"I hope I didn't disturb your beauty rest," the Dark Lord said, his eyes on the Elder Wand as he fiddled with it in his lap. "With an early morning summons."

"No, my lord," Draco said, and forced himself not to say anything else. When he was very nervous, he sometimes had the impulse to ramble— his reaction to alcohol was proof enough of that— but if there was one thing Voldemort didn't like, it was people who talked too much.

"I've summoned you all here in order to give you an assignment," Voldemort continued, still not looking at them. "Or a continuation of an assignment, rather. Severus, both Amycus and Alecto report that there is already unrest at Hogwarts."

"Some rebellious Dumbledore loyalists, my lord, but it is nothing that I—"

"I did not ask you to speak."

Snape stopped talking at once.

"Perhaps your Headmaster title is going to your head, Severus," Voldemort said with a chuckle. "I don't normally have to remind you to wait your turn."

Snape, perhaps wisely, said nothing.

"It is natural, perhaps expected, that there would be unrest among a student body that has been taught to worship Albus Dumbledore," Voldemort continued. "They are, as you call them, loyalists. And— forgive me, Severus— I'm sure you've hardly endeared yourself to your students, before or after Dumbledore's death. This won't have any impact on the most committed of Dumbledore's ranks— what did you call yourselves, Ginny? Dumbledore's Army?— but for those students who are more… undecided, I think they might appreciate hearing from one of their own."

He paused, and the small grouping of Death Eaters remained silent, waiting to be asked to speak. Ginny too stayed quiet, her hands folded politely in her lap.

"You will have guests tomorrow, Severus," Voldemort said softly. "Ginny will give a speech at Hogwarts, asking for compliance, urging them to accept this… new reality. Dolohov, I expect her speech to be prepared by the end of the day today."

Dolohov bowed. "Yes, my lord. It shall be done."

"Nott, this will be your first mission. Something rather more palatable than your friend Goyle had to partake in, but make no mistake— it is just as serious. I will not be able to accompany my saint to Hogwarts, so it will be up to you to make sure that nothing happens to her. She has no access to magic of her own, so if something should happen, I expect you to defend her with your life, do you understand?"

Nott bowed. "Yes, my lord."

"You'll also, of course, be keeping an eye on her to ensure she's behaving," he continued, and Ginny stiffened beside him. "She's been doing very well recently, but I recognize what a… temptation, Hogwarts might be. No escape attempts, no secret rescue missions, no passing information to Order of the Phoenix sympathizers… nothing at all. I will hold you responsible for such a thing if it comes to pass, and let me assure you, my wrath would be something to behold if my saint were to somehow slip away. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my lord. I won't let you down."

"See to it that you don't. And then there's you." He turned his attention to Draco, and his heart skipped a beat. "Are you ready to redeem yourself, Draco?"

What an interesting question for him to ask, in light of everything. Draco bowed. "Yes, my lord. I will not fail you again."

"What I just told Nott applies to you as well, though you know that very well by now. You can use Macnair's lovely gift to ensure we get the results we're looking for, hmm?"

"Yes, my lord. I will ensure the speech goes smoothly."

"And that Ginny is well-behaved."

"And that Ginny is well-behaved. Yes."

"The whole school knows by now that she's ostensibly living with you and your family. Only natural for you to be by her side."

Draco said nothing.

"It makes sense for you to go," the Dark Lord continued, seemingly speaking to himself more than to the group. "And you, beyond any of my other followers, are best-equipped to protect her, whether that is from herself or someone else. Why would I trust her safety to anyone else?"

He stayed quiet for a moment, then seemed to come to a decision. "You and Nott will both stay here tonight so that you're prepared to leave tomorrow, early in the morning. Severus, be prepared to welcome them to the grounds at eight o'clock tomorrow— and, of course, ensure that the whole school will be in attendance."

Snape bowed. "Yes, my lord."

"You have your assignments— now go. Draco, you may show Nott upstairs— there is an unused bedroom near Ginny's that he can use."

The four Death Eaters bowed as one before turning to leave the room. Draco made himself not look back at Ginny, and only once the ballroom doors closed behind him did he allow himself to send an elated, We did it!, across the bridge. She didn't respond, but he hadn't expected her to, not when she was sitting right next to Voldemort. This was good news, very good news. Nott would be perfect as a secondary guard.

"So… what should I do to be prepared tomorrow?" Nott said, following along behind Draco.

"What do you mean?"

"You heard him— this is my first mission and it's really important. What do I need to know, or how should I prepare?"

Fucking hell. Maybe not perfect after all.

"Just be alert and paying attention," Draco said, trying not to sound impatient. "I will give her all the necessary commands with the tattoo before we leave, so we shouldn't have to worry about her messing up the speech or trying to escape or something. He wants a second person there in case the danger is coming from someone else, but that isn't likely to happen, I don't think. More than likely, it will be smooth sailing."

"Easy for you to say."

"Not at all. I know what it is to fail the Dark Lord, and I'm not eager to do it again. But truly, I think the most likely thing that happens tomorrow is we follow behind Ginny like shadows, endure the glares of the general student body, and make it back home in time for lunch. She's incredibly valuable, so the Dark Lord isn't going to let her leave without security, but that doesn't mean she's likely to be attacked."

"Okay," Nott said, nodding to himself. "Okay."

"I'll show you to your room, and then I'm going to head back to the manor real quick to grab clothes and things for myself. I haven't been here in a few days. Be ready on time tomorrow, yeah?"

"Of course."

Draco did need to grab appropriate robes, but what he really needed to do was call Blaise, and he couldn't do that in the Dark Lord's house. It seemed Luna Lovegood would be getting her wish sooner than anticipated. She was going to see Ginny tomorrow.