Chapter 15: The matter at stake
It was a clear, cold January morning; the first day after the Holidays, and the winter sun was streaming in through the high, slim windows to the Great Hall of Hogwarts, presently filled with prattling students.
Headmistress McGonagall had only a moment ago announced the grave matter at stake (of course leaving out any mention of Ginny or Blaise's involvement in the Dementor incident) together with the rest of the staff and a flock of gloomy-looking Aurors who had been sent by the Ministry.
Uneasiness towards the presence of the latter was already hanging in the air when the students had first arrived and by McGonagall's announcement gasps of panic had naturally resounded among them, especially the younger ones who had never been close to - much less seen – such horrific creatures. The situation eerily reminded Ginny of her second year when Sirius Black was loose at the school and Dementors were the ones sent to catch him.
How ironic.
As always, McGonagall stayed unperturbed throughout the chaos and levelly and firmly reminded everyone to stay calm and have faith in the protection of the school, its staff and the Aurors. However, necessary precaution needed to be taken which meant any Hogsmeade visits, Quidditch tournament and training were temporarily suspended (despite the gravity of the matter, this announcement was met by a chorus of disapproval among the students) and every student was prohibited from venturing out on school grounds – unless one had special permission from the staff or was accompanied by an Auror – until the Ministry had the matter resolved. Any further questions and special requests were directed towards the staff, the Head Boy and Girl and the Prefects who would be instructed by the Aurors in the necessary practicalities and rules regarding the safety.
Ginny, however, had an inkling that several paranoid parents would send owls next morning to pull their children home from school. In post-war times you could never be too careful, it seemed.
She studied McGonagall's slightly weary face after the announcement and reckoned this already sat heavily on her mind, among everything else. Still, the Headmistress held herself as stoic and strong as ever, deepening Ginny's respect for the Scotswoman.
She shot a glance at the table where Blaise and the rest of his House were sitting to gawk his reaction to it all, but only managed to spot his carved profile and knitted brows of apprehension - directed towards the Headmistress as well it seemed - before he turned away, his lean, slightly tense back facing her.
Students still remained anxious and a nervous chatter erupted in the Hall as the Aurors silently spread out and trickled down between the aisles and along the walls, their serious gazes trailing systematically over the frazzled faces of students, as if looking for suspicious signs amongst them. It was probably mere protocol but it sent unwilling goose bumps down Ginny's spine nonetheless.
Instinctively ducking her head, she mentally berated herself for acting so foolishly guilty. After all her time in the company of Mad-Eye, Tonks, Lupin and the rest of the Aurors during the war, she had apparently forgotten everything she had learned from them. 'Constant vigilance!' as Mad-Eye so infamously would yell when someone lost courage.
A wave of sadness hit her as she remembered past and deceased acquaintances; those brave souls who had given their lives so that everyone present in the Great Hall and outside these walls could live on in peace.
Those faces who had been so alive, so present only mere months ago.
She felt her throat constrict, her surroundings becoming slightly blurred and trivial. Quickly excusing herself from whatever little breakfast she had managed to consume, she left the Great Hall and threw herself headfirst into her Head Girl duties, scouting the corridors for the students who had missed the Great Hall meeting or who were otherwise in need of guidance. She spent about an hour doing so, welcoming the distraction from her depressing thoughts, and had an hour or so left before her own class.
Having just guided a bunch of severely lost students towards Flitwick's classroom, she ran into an excited Parvati Patil who was handing out flyers to a bunch of overly giddy Sixth Year's girls.
"Ginny!" she exclaimed when she spotted Ginny who was unable to escape the twin's attention.
"Oh, hi, Parvati," she greeted half-heartedly, hoping she could avoid one of her usual gossiping tales about who was making out with who at Hogwarts.
Parvati, however, didn't sense her reluctance and steered eagerly towards her.
"Have you been invited to the party tomorrow night thrown by the Seventh Years from PL? You should totally come! It'll be the party of the year, they say! Or, that is, the new year. Here you go," she rattled on and handed her one of the flyers she was holding, naming time and place.
"Um, PL?" Ginny asked dumbly, studying the flyer.
"Yeah, you know, House of Politics & Law? The old Ravenclaw? The one Hermione's in now? I know, the name sucks, totally drab, but all the hot Seventh Year boys go there," she said and winked conspiratorially. "It'll be super! And it'll take our minds off that dreadful Dementor thing happening, right?" An automatic chill went down Ginny's spine at the memory of the Dementor, before Parvati continued, "You will come, won't you?"
"Erm, tomorrow night?" Ginny hesitated, "I'm not sure. I have a lot of Head Girl duties and then there's that big essay for Poti-"
"Ginevra Weasley! I have never heard you putting up excuses for not going to a House party!" Parvati gawped, looking genuinely indignant. "Since when has school work come before having fun for you?"
Ginny blinked then shrugged resignedly, not overly surprised by her friend's reaction. "Since the war, I guess."
Parvati's mouth snapped shut, having not expected such a bleak, honest answer and sent her an empathetic look. "Oh. Right," she murmured and studied Ginny's wistful expression, then righted herself, speaking more cheerily, "Well, even so, I do hope you will allow yourself some fun once in a while, OK? No need to fall into a pit of despair. The war is over and we all try and move on and, besides, we are allowed to have a bit of fun, right?" She gave Ginny's arm a gentle squeeze and smiled encouragingly. "Come. Won't you?"
Ginny looked at her old friend, having almost forgotten how kind and funny Parvati could be underneath all the frivolous chit-chat. She tried to remember the Ginny she once was, the one Parvati referred to, who never backed down from the chance of ditching boring homework for a party. She wasn't sure that Ginny would ever come back, but maybe she should give tomorrow night's party a shot. It wasn't like she couldn't finish her Head Girl duties and essay before then. And who knew? Maybe she hadn't entirely lost the ability to have genuine fun. Besides, she could think of no convincing way to get out of this one.
"Alright, Parvati," she sighed and gave a somewhat strained smile, "I'll come."
"Great!" she beamed and hugged her. "See you in class then, Ginny - and at the party!" she called back to her as she skipped down the corridor, handing out more flyers to passing students who instantly broke out in shrill cries of excitement at the prospect of an older student House party.
Ginny sighed again, shaking her head and continued down her route through the hallways and corridors for any more lost students, while trying to sort out her feelings about what she had just agreed to – on top of everything else.
"Oh, Miss Weasley?"
The Headmistress's familiar, authoritative voice interrupted her walk and she turned to see McGonagall coming towards her.
"Yes, Headmistress?"
"I wonder if you would care to join me at my office presently?" she requested matter-of-factly when she reached her, firm, grey gaze holding hers. "I would like to talk to you about a private matter."
She didn't have to explain any further what this 'private matter' was regarding. Her serious tone hinted to a very specific, recent matter that Ginny was all too aware of needed to be dealt with but had hoped to somehow avoid all together.
"Oh, um, yes, I have some time to kill before class, so I will be able to join you," Ginny replied, hating the nervousness creeping into her voice.
"Excellent, Miss Weasley," the Headmistress nodded in formal satisfaction. "If you will follow me now, please?"
Leading the way, McGonagall strode briskly towards her office, her brown ropes swishing around her legs, with Ginny following gingerly behind.
Just before reaching the familiar gargoyle, McGonagall turned to her. "You should know," she spoke in a more subdued voice, "I have asked the Head Auror from the Ministry to join us regarding this… private matter I want to discuss with you. It is merely protocol, of course. A matter of safety precautions that we need to take into account given recent events. I hope you understand." The Headmistress regarded her with a meaningful look and Ginny nodded, trying but failing to calm her nerves.
"I understand."
Turning away again, McGonagall uttered the password to the gargoyle which instantly started to turn, revealing the staircase leading up to the office.
"Oh, and I have asked Mr. Zabini to be present as well," the older witch added straightforwardly, just as they both stepped up the moving staircase.
Ginny's heart leapt to her throat.
Oh, no.
Blaise…
They had both known it would happen sooner or later and however much they had mentally prepared themselves for this possibility during the Holidays, she personally couldn't shake the feeling of being led to an inquisition; an…interrogation – despite McGonagall's reassurances otherwise.
She could only imagine how Blaise must be feeling at the moment. How would he take it? Being dragged in – in front of the Head Auror and Headmistress to relive the nightmare of the Dementor's attack; to be questioned and suspected for a crime he could go to Azkaban for? In a cool, off-handed stride? A volatile, vulnerable mess? Would he begin to blame her even?
No, he had seemed almost offended when he had cornered her before the Holidays and accused her of taking all the blame. Maybe it had just been a display of typical, masculine pride; not wanting to be 'rescued by a girl and a war heroine'. But she had understood it better afterwards. His lashing out was more like a panicked reaction. Almost … almost as if the fear of being dragged through the mud and ending up in Azkaban had him more scared than ever before and not wanting her to get caught up in his personal and public humiliation.
And if true, she had no clue what to make of that thought.
As the stairs revolved, bringing them higher and closer to the Headmistress's Office, Ginny's nerves got the better of her. She wasn't sure she would be able to save his skin. She'd do her best, of course, but if he was anything but sensible and honest, she wasn't sure he'd stand a chance of escaping suspicion.
She just hoped he'd keep a cool head.
Finally entering the office, the first thing her eyes fell upon was the back of the Italian as he was sitting and waiting tensely in one of the chairs in front of McGonagall's desk, his long legs splayed before him. An imposing, austere-looking Auror stood stiff as a ramrod a couple of feet away from him, hands behind his back and apprehensive eyes never leaving the young man in the chair.
"Ah, you're here," McGonagall announced, presumably referring to Zabini's attendance, and stepped past Ginny's momentarily immobile form and up to the desk. "Very well, then we can begin." She sat down behind it and gestured to Ginny to do the same in the chair beside Blaise.
Hesitant, Ginny stepped forward, her eyes darting nervously between Blaise's tense figure, the grave Auror and the patiently waiting Headmistress, before perching herself on the hard wooden chair next to Blaise. She tried to catch his gaze but he was averting it and instead stared ruefully into the floor, a frown marring his forehead.
"Miss Weasley, may I introduce you to Mr. Fintan Rowe, Head Auror of the Auror Department in the Ministry," McGonagall said, gesturing and drawing Ginny's attention to the man in question who in turn stepped forward and let his flinty, hawk-like eyes settle uncomfortably on Ginny. "Mr. Rowe, this is Ginevra Weasley, our Head Girl, who was with Mr. Zabini when it happened," she addressed the Auror.
Ginny gulped and noticed the further tensing of muscles in Blaise's right arm, his hand curling tightly around the armrest.
"Good day to you, Miss Weasley," the Auror formally greeted with a curt nod, his scrutinizing look shifting between the two students in front of him.
It was all Ginny could do to not squirm in her seat.
McGonagall leaned forward, perching her elbows on the desktop as her steely but familiar grey eyes zoomed in on Ginny and Blaise. "I think you both know why I have gathered you here today," she began levelly. "Mr. Rowe and I want to talk to you about the incident that occurred in the Shrieking Shack just before the Holidays. We would like to get your perspectives of what exactly transpired in that house, as well as what led up prior to the incident and afterwards, in order for us to form a general view and assess the present situation."
Ginny was about to open her mouth in protest, but McGonagall anticipated it and held up a hand. "I know you explained it to me the day it happened, Miss Weasley, but as I said I would like for you to repeat it in the company of both Mr. Rowe and I. And I have asked Mr. Zabini to join us so that we can get it confirmed from his point of view," she added, shooting a pensive glance towards the latter before addressing Ginny again. "I know you may have questions too, but I suggest you let me finish explaining before you start jumping to unnecessary conclusions about any final decision-making on our parts."
Crestfallen and feeling agitated as well as helpless, Ginny sat back in her chair, glancing between the two serious-looking adults in front of her and fidgeted nervously with her hands. Much to her dismay, nothing escaped the looming Head Auror's observant eyes which narrowed considerably at her behavior.
McGonagall continued in calm severity, eyes trained on the two students. "Now, I have not brought you here because we suspect you are somehow at fault for the Dementor's appearance. I will have you both know that no one is put to blame or under suspicion before all facts are cleared up and the rogue Dementor is securely apprehended. That is our main goal. Until then, you are still my students and under the protection of the school, so you shall not go around fearing for your lives but instead trust Mr. Rowe and I to put matters straight and not let rumors fly. The Aurors are here to protect all the students and not pass immediate judgment on anyone without any concrete evidence." The Headmistress threw the stern-looking Auror at her side an equally stern glance. "Am I right, Mr. Rowe?"
"Right, Ma'am," the man nodded in a terse reply though he continued to closely monitor Blaise, whose eyes hadn't broken away from burning a hole in the floor.
McGonagall pursed her mouth in slight displeasure at the man's persistently suspicious attitude, then cleared her throat. "Very well. Now, do you have any questions? Miss Weasley?"
Ginny stared back, dumbfounded; no longer sure what to ask exactly.
"I, um, I'm not sure, Headmistress…"
"Well, then," McGonagall quickly resolved when Ginny left her sentence hanging there, "let us move on, shall we?" Throwing one last, expectant look at Blaise but still getting no significant response from him, she sighed and looked back at Ginny. "Would you care to begin, Miss Weasley?"
Faltering, Ginny cast Blaise a sidelong glance, feeling both sympathetic and slightly indignant of his unresponsive, sullen behavior, leaving her to apparently speak their case for them.
Increasingly anxious under the watchful eyes of McGonagall and the Auror, she sighed resignedly and started relaying the story once more. The adults listened intently, once in a while interrupting her to pose a couple of clarifying questions before they let her move on. Though she hardly recalled whether she noticed any footprints in the tunnel or anything looking out of place in the Shack, she tried her best to remember every detail. The more specific info she gave, the quicker they could get this little inquiry over with and get out.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed Blaise's right knee had started bouncing restlessly.
"… and so, when we'd finished our drinks, we came back here and went to class as usual, not really thinking about the consequences of what we'd just witnessed. We should have, of course, but it just didn't really hit before I approached you, Headmistress, later that day and told you what had happened." Ginny's gaze once again flicked towards Blaise. "I think Blai– I mean Zabini must have noticed something was off; he sought me out the following week to ask what was going on, and I relayed what I had done and what you had informed me, Headmistress. He was... he was clearly in shock, as well," she trailed off, deliberately leaving out the other significant reason for his shock and what had happened afterwards before he had stormed out of the Bathroom.
They needn't know that, after all.
A shiver ran alongside her neck. Blaise had lifted his brooding gaze from the floor and turned it halfway towards her in renewed interest, presumably at the subtext of her words.
Feeling her heart close to hammering its way out of her chest, she tore her eyes away from his intense, inscrutable stare and turned it towards the other occupants of the room.
McGonagall leaned back in contemplative silence; her always studious gaze belied nothing suspicious regarding Ginny's testimony. The older woman's complete trust in her calmed her heart somewhat.
Rowe, on the other hand, kept his suspicion in high gear, it seemed.
Stepping forward and out of the shadows of the bookcases, the Auror's hard gaze took in both students. "Tell me, Miss Weasley: What exactly is the nature of your relationship with Mr. Zabini?"
Ginny's stomach somersaulted and she felt rather than saw how Blaise's body became even more rigid at the audacity of the question.
"Really, Mr. Rowe," McGonagall interjected in mild indignation on behalf of her students. "I don't see the point in such a personal inquiry. Whatever relationship Miss Weasley and Mr. Zabini have established must be deemed private and irrelevant regarding the matter at stake, surely."
"I beg your pardon, Ma'am, but I respectfully disagree," Rowe drawled, his straight-faced, collected demeanor seeming almost too calm. "I find it very much relevant to the case considering the past affiliations of Mr. Zabini," his eyes becoming particularly hard as he trained them on the latter.
Blaise was staring wide-eyed back at the man, making Ginny want to reach out to his clenched hand on the armrest and grab it.
She was not sure if it was to restrain him from seizing his wand or to soothe his worried mind.
McGonagall now turned with a frown to the Auror. "Mr. Rowe, I thought we agreed not to pass any judgment based on mere prejudice on the students and certainly not without any concrete evidence. What exactly are you implying?"
Ginny's heart practically catapulted out of her chest.
The Auror, unperturbed by the rebuke, shrugged with an air of superiority, his tone venturing from suspicious to sardonic. "Only that – since the matter is so grave – we must consider all factors regarding what transpired. Given Mr. Zabini's ties with the Dark Side before and during the war, I have reason to believe he could have either planned the attack of the Dementor, targeting Miss Weasley among others, or – whether the nature of their relationship is closer than assumed – Imperiused or simply persuaded Miss Weasley to join him in a very strategic attack on the school."
"WHAT?!" Ginny and Blaise protested in chorus; Blaise close to jumping out of his chair, his right hand twisting dangerously towards his wand.
"Those are some very serious accusations, Mr. Rowe," McGonagall proceeded in stern professionalism, though she was clearly equally shocked by the Head Auror's direct hostility. "I must remind you that this is not some personal or public vendetta against Mr. Zabini on behalf of the Auror Department, simply because he – like many other students and their families – out of sheer fear for his life was under the oppressive influence of Lord Voldemort. Mr. Zabini's behavior since the end of the war has been absolutely exemplary and honorable – I can personally testify to that – and, most importantly, we do not have any concrete evidence of any lingering ties to the Dark Side. And I must strongly protest to the accusations that Miss Weasley should have had anything to do with the appearance of the Dementor. I have complete faith in her innocence in this matter and, for the world of me, I cannot believe Mr. Zabini to have–", she bit out the words with difficulty, thin nostrils flaring, "coerced her in any way or form."
Ginny wanted to cheer the elder witch. Few dared to look McGonagall in the eyes and challenge her, especially when her loyal nature sprung forth like a lioness protecting its cubs whenever the students of Hogwarts came into question.
Rowe, however, seemed a hard-bitten character himself; neither to be led nor driven, and simply narrowed his eyes at the Headmistress, his jaw ticking in slight annoyance.
"Must I remind you, Ma'am, that another former student and even close acquaintance of Mr. Zabini's – a Mr. Draco Malfoy – was able to let the Death Eaters into this school not so long ago?"
McGonagall's sharp jaw hardened, a pained look crossing her face at the all too recent memory of the attack on the school before it was quickly replaced by a warning flash of grey fire. "I am very well aware, Mr. Rowe. I was there, after all. Yet, as the trials this summer revealed, Mr. Malfoy was also just a scared boy; intimidated and pressured into his actions, fearing for his life and those of his family. I have every reason to believe none of the Dark Wizards' children were truly at fault in the end but have tried to redeem themselves and stay out of the limelight, given the harsh prejudice thrown against them, ever since the war ended. That includes Mr. Zabini."
A brief, but intense stare-off between the two powerful wizards ensued – with Rowe clearly wanting to protest.
"Very well," he finally acquiesced through gritted teeth, though he didn't seem the least bit convinced by Blaise's complete innocence, shooting one last, distrustful look at the young wizard – which was returned tenfold – before schooling his countenance into more professional, stoic folds.
McGonagall cleared her throat, returning to somewhat strained formalities and the primary matter at stake.
Ginny didn't exactly feel calmer by the inflated tension in the air and vehemently tried to ignore how Blaise's long, elegant body next to her was entirely coiled in repressed frustration.
Please, Zabini, she prayed silently. Don't do anything stupid.
Though she doubted he would throw a tantrum, she feared for the words coming out of his mouth. A few strikes and before they knew it the knife would have sunk in. And ruined him. She knew him to be smarter than that but she didn't know him that well yet – at least, not to be sure how he reacted in such dire circumstances as this could turn out to be. She wished she did so that she could read him and perhaps even prevent any mistakes on his part.
Why she felt so concerned and protective about him, she couldn't really fathom. She stood nearly as accused as he did from what that ass-hat of an Auror had even dared to suggest!
Mirroring Blaise's attitude, unable to help herself as the roaring indignation swamped her, she scowled up at the arrogant Auror beside McGonagall whose seated posture had turned stiff.
"Now," McGonagall said in a clipped voice, pursing her lips. "Mr. Zabini," she addressed him pointedly, making Blaise swivel his dark gaze from the Auror to the Headmistress. "Would you be so kind to relay your side of the story?"
He shifted slightly in the chair, arm muscles contracting under his sleeve, belying his discomfort about the whole affair as he kept a watchful eye on the Auror who had retreated back to his shadowed corner. One glance at Ginny told her that he too realized that this moment was inescapable and reluctantly schooled his features as he started telling them how he had first approached her with the idea of making a short cut to the Shrieking Shack through the tunnels under the Whomping Willow.
"I know Weasley to not exactly be a squeamish kind of girl when it comes to getting a bit dirty – in the literal sense," he added, unable to resist a smirk which made Ginny subtly roll her eyes, "– and that's partly why I suggested we'd take the tunnels. That, and given the winter frost had just set in, I thought we could at least avoid getting frostbite from our trip to the Shack," he gibed, but couldn't escape the tightness in his voice and decisively avoided everyone's eyes.
Ginny blinked, baffled by his response. She hadn't even bothered to ponder upon his choice of short-cut. Back then she had just quickly dismissed it as another 'typical Slytherin trait' to cut corners with school regulations and opt for the easiest, unofficial entrance to Hogsmeade. That his primary reason for doing so had been with her in mind as well rattled her. Sure, he might just tactically have name-dropped her; pointing out his well-meaning concerns and intentions so that he could escape some of the suspicion already hanging over his head, but somehow his too offhand mentioning of her, mockingly playing it off as if it was the most natural thing to consider, ironically made his answer seem all the more genuine. As if… he actually cared.
From the opposite side of the desk, McGonagall gave a pensive hum. "I see. Highly irregular conduct, nevertheless, Mr. Zabini," she reprimanded with a frown, "given that students are not permitted to disturb the Whomping Willow nor use the unauthorized passageway under it to reach Hogsmeade or the area surrounding it. As a Prefect you should have known better."
A conflicted display of emotions crossed the chiseled features of his face as Blaise regarded the Headmistress and then bent his head in the barest hinting of shame, a rare sight indeed.
McGonagall's steely eyes turned to Ginny next. "And you, Miss Weasley. You are the Head Girl. You should surely have known better than going along with it."
Ginny's cheeks reddened and she too bowed her head, giving a slight nod.
There was a moment of silence before McGonagall cleared her throat and continued, some of the austerity in her voice abating. "But I can see how you saw it as perfectly innocent and inconsequential at the time since it was only the two of you and saw the tunnels as a means of cutting your route short and avoid the cold. Because of that I will let this one go," both Ginny and Blaise snapped up their heads in surprise at her words before she added, in typical McGonagall fashion, "but I will not be as lenient if it happens again. Do you understand?"
They nodded gingerly, casting a sidelong peek at each other as they sat stiffly back and anxiously awaited whatever would come next.
Rowe clearly wasn't satisfied with McGonagall's tolerant attitude towards their mishap as he snorted lowly in the background.
"Now," McGonagall proceeded, ignoring the Auror, "would you care to elaborate what happened next, Mr. Zabini?"
Blaise's Adam's apple bobbed as he hunched slightly forward. "Well, um, as Weasley said, we met at the Stone Circle and went to the Whomping Willow which I momentarily petrified, after which we went down underneath it and into the tunnels leading to the Shack." He looked up but was only met by McGonagall's head nodding for him to continue, to which he gave a short, impatient huff and folded his hands. "When we got there, we went upstairs to have a look around and decided how to proceed with the task assigned to us, by you Headmistress, when the Dementor suddenly appeared," he rushed ahead, pointedly ignoring to mention any other details of what had transpired between them.
Ginny swallowed nervously as she took in that usually haughty, dignified profile of his and the edgy expression now marring his aristocratic brow. His leg had started jumping again, but this time she sensed it wasn't just because of the looming Auror in the corner watching them like a hawk or the possible repercussions of today's inquiry.
She wanted to reach out and calm his jerking knee, realizing the terror of the Dementor's appearance that fateful day still sat deeply within him.
"And how exactly did you manage to fend it off, Mr. Zabini?," the Auror's drawl crept up from behind McGonagall, making the hair on the back of Ginny's neck stand on end.
"I- I'm not sure …," Blaise faltered and frowned in confusion.
"You're not – sure?" the Auror's voice rose with sardonic incredulity.
Blaise grunted in slight annoyance. "Well, yes, I am sure I used the Patronus charm, but it all happened instinctively – all at once," he tried to explain and swallowed hard before he averted his eyes, "I had… I had never used it before."
"You had never used the Patronus charm before?" Rowe repeated with emphasis and to such an annoying effect that it made Ginny want to throttle him.
"I just told you, didn't I?!" Blaise retorted with an unusual sneer and glared up at the Head Auror, reminding Ginny of Malfoy's old antics. Clearly, his nerves were on edge and who could blame him?
"So you immediately cast the spell when you saw it appear?" McGonagall clarified in a composed manner, her tone staying objective.
"I– no, I – I mean we–," Blaise threw Ginny a fleeting look, "sort of stumbled back in shock at first, at the sight of it. I recall I was behind Weasley and pulled her towards me as it advanced on us in the doorway and then – then it just started … sucking," his voice wavered, sending an icy shudder down Ginny's spine at the memory, and he swallowed hard again.
"On who?" Rowe gruffly cut in.
"Why, on Weasley, of course!" the wizard beside her snapped impatiently as he gestured in her direction. "She has told you so already."
"Yes, but we'd like to hear your side of the story, young man," McGonagall replied in a steady voice, sensing the boy's growing unease.
"I don't see why; it's exactly the same," he grumbled under his breath but Ginny couldn't blame him for objecting to the absurdity of it all. Why didn't they just take their words for it and trust them?
Overlooking the remark, McGonagall patiently gestured for him to continue. "Please go on, Mr. Zabini. What do you recall happened next?"
He gulped, pressing his hands harder together. "Well… it all happened so quickly. One moment it was concentrating on Weasley, hovering above her like a – a parasite and the next it had – it had turned towards me and–," his voice broke and despite his dark complexion, Ginny was positive he had gone a couple of shades paler.
"I see," McGonagall observed quietly.
"Headmistress, we've already gone through this part," Ginny intervened. "Can't we –"
"Please, Miss Weasley," McGonagall apprehended her calmly, shaking her head. "It is imperative that we hear the entire story from Mr. Zabini's mouth. Let him speak."
"But I –"
"Miss Weasley, please."
She snapped her mouth shut, knowing it was futile to persist in front of the Scotswoman, and turned her worried gaze back to the hunched-over boy next to her. He simply stared blankly ahead of him, glassy-eyed and still, his large, graceful hands twisting together.
"Go on, Mr. Zabini," the older witch prompted after a beat.
Blaise exhaled and the muscles of his arm flexed. "It was horrible," he muttered, blinking. "At some point we must have fallen down because when I came to the next, we were lying on the ground and it… it was going at Ginevra again–" Ginny's breath caught at the sound of her name rolling over his tongue for the first time, seemingly unconsciously "–and she was totally out of it; almost blacked-out. And I just acted instinctively, I guess. I reached for my wand, pointed it at the Dementor and cast the spell. It was enough for it to recoil and leave the Shack."
If it hadn't been for the gravity of the tale and their situation, not to mention the surrounding atmosphere, Ginny could have laughed. Only a person who had never experienced a certain kind of spell first-hand before would be so particular in his description of it; even mentioning the very purpose of the spell – as if slightly surprised that it would actually work in the end.
"And you are sure you saw nothing of the Dementor afterwards when you left the Shack?" Rowe addressed the both of them with a serious mien, stepping closer. "No one following you to Hogsmeade or any suspicious-looking characters out of the ordinary at The Three Broomsticks?"
Ginny, coming up short, mutely shook her head, darting a look at Blaise to see him mirror her response. After all, they had likely been the most 'suspicious' sight in the inn that day, so they hadn't really noticed if anyone of its staring occupants had seemed particularly struck by their presence. There had been Podsworth, of course, but the former Hufflepuff didn't seem the type to be plotting such schemes against them and the school.
The Auror gave a short hum in response, frowning. McGonagall seemed troubled as well.
"Very well," the Headmistress finally said after a moment's pensive silence, realizing her two students still sat waiting, anxious for their verdict. She glanced up at the Auror who nodded solemnly in return and turned her gaze back at Ginny and Blaise.
"I think we have everything we need, for now. We will continue to look into the matter while the rogue Dementor is found and apprehended. Until then, be prepared to be summoned again to my office in case we need some further clarifications on certain matters of your involvement that day. Though, as I said, you shall not fear any prosecutions or smear campaigns of your persons. Mr. Rowe and I will keep this matter between us and only share it with those involved who have our complete trust. You can count on that."
A familiar twinkle – reminiscent of that of Dumbledore's – momentarily appeared in McGonagall's intent, grey gaze as she spoke those last words, settling the tornado in Ginny's stomach somewhat. Still, she felt anxious for the fate of Blaise and the ongoing apprehension between the former Slytherin and the Head Auror in the room. Despite McGonagall's words, she wasn't entirely sure the Auror - nor his Department - could be trusted given his obvious bias. The fact that Ron, Harry and Neville were currently working under this guy and a part of a possible 'smear campaign' (which McGonagall had hinted to) was not a thought she could even bear to entertain at the moment.
Suddenly she needed air.
"Thank you for your cooperation today. You may go."
She barely heard the Headmistress's words before she had risen from the chair, as if in slow-motion, managed to give a curt nod to the Headmistress and the Head Auror and moved towards the door, feeling their eyes burning into the back of her neck.
Blaise had followed her example, walking slightly quicker given his long legs, and reached the door before her, his lean frame hunched and tense as he wrenched the door open and exited, scurrying down the already turning stairs.
Stumbling slightly out of her daze, she hurried after him.
"Blaise? Blaise!"
He didn't stop but continued downwards until the entrance to the corridor was revealed and he exited it. Before she even reached it, he had gone.
Feeling unusually out of breath, as if her heart was beating its way out through her throat with all that adrenaline and nervousness pumping through her veins, she stood in the silent, empty corridor and wondered why she always ended up like this.
A/N: A slightly belated question, but I was wondering what you think about the old Hogwarts Houses being dismantled and re-placed in this fic? Do you think it a realistic scenario after the war and agree with the reason why? Or do you think McGonagall would have faced the post-war prejudice and accusations against Slytherin and anything Death Eater-related differently and kept the old Houses in order to dispel said prejudice? I would love to hear your opinions :)