Chapter 3
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Summary: The career fair continues, with appearances from St. Mungo's and the Library Network. Harry and Hermione have a touching moment, and so do Draco and Ginny. In fact, Draco and Ginny have a lot of 'touching' moments. Draco has a chat with Daddy, and everyone leaves for Christmas holidays. Draco has an annoying visit from his conscience.
Where the Wild Things Are
Chapter 3
Harry, Ron and Ginny were all running rather late when they arrived in the hospital wing for their final session. It was the last day of the Career Fair, and the three of them were attending a session run by a Healer from St. Mungo's. Dean was going to a Muggle Relations session, and Hermione, to no one's surprise, was going to some session about libraries. She and Ron had taken a long time saying goodbye to each other in the Great Hall, and thus they were all a little behind schedule.
To be honest, Harry was feeling a little annoyed with Ron and Hermione, though he knew he was being irrational. He'd been honest with them yesterday at lunch, he was happy for them. He'd always been rather amused, and a little exasperated, at their blatant refusal to acknowledge their feelings for each other, and it really was about time they did something about it. But he couldn't help feeling that their getting together would mean that he would be left out of things a good deal more now. Perhaps he was just lonely himself.
No one else seemed to share his feelings though. Dean and the other boys in their dorm all found the whole thing terrifically funny, and teased Ron mercilessly. Lavender and Parvati came over extremely giggly whenever they passed Ron or Hermione, so Harry assumed that Hermione had told them. Then again, Lavender and Parvati giggled about almost everything.
And Ginny... Well, actually, Ginny did seem extremely upset today. She'd been pleasant enough to Ron and Hermione though, so Harry assumed that something else was bothering her. She got extremely jumpy and dropped whatever she was holding whenever anyone spoke to her, so Harry figured it was best to leave her alone.
Entering the hospital wing, Harry saw that it had been transformed into a kind of classroom. As there weren't any patients at the moment, all the beds had been pushed to the back of the room, and a lot of chairs had been set up in their place. Students filled about half of them, most of them sitting near the front. A pleasant-faced, brown-haired witch wearing lime-green Healer robes and owl-eye spectacles was standing in front and speaking to the students. Like all of the Career Fair guests, she had a nametag fixed to her robes, which read Diana Inle.
"Come on," Ron whispered. "Let's just sit in the back some place."
Harry opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, the sunny voice of the lime-clad healer called to them from the front of the room.
"Come on up front, join us," she said. "Mr. Potter, isn't it? And you'd be Mr and Miss Weasley?"
Ron looked surprised, and glanced at Harry, but Harry just shrugged.
"Yeah, sorry we're late," Harry said, and made his way to some empty seats in the fourth row.
"Not a problem," she replied, smiling widely at them. "I was just telling everyone about the NEWT requirements for becoming a Healer."
The session wasn't particularly relevant for either Harry or Ron, as neither of them wished to be healers. It was Ginny who was more specifically interested in the field of healing (and the only one with the grades to really achieve it) and when they'd been deciding their schedules she had asked Ron and Harry to come along so she wouldn't be alone. This morning Ron had wanted to tag along with Hermione to the library instead, but Hermione had flatly rejected this idea, reminding Ron that he had promised Ginny he'd accompany her.
The session turned out to be rather interesting, though. Diana Inle first went through the grade expectations and post-graduate testing that was required, and related how she'd been so nervous during her first test that she'd written 'I am a fish' one hundred times and fainted on her way out the door. She then went on to describe daily routine at St. Mungo's hospital, telling them funny stories about the often-bizarre cases that regularly came through the different wards. By the end of the session, nearly everyone was pink from laughing and in high spirits.
"Oh, there's the bell for lunch," Diana was saying. "Thanks so much, all of you. Hopefully I'll see you at St. Mungo's in a couple of years."
Everyone got up headed for the door.
"Oh, Mr. Potter," Diana called to him, "could you stay behind a moment?"
Harry looked at Ron and Ginny questioningly. Ginny wasn't paying attention, and Ron just shrugged.
"Got me, mate," he said. "We can wait if you like, though. That okay with you, Gin?"
"Hmm?" she said vaguely, and then turned to look at them. "I'm fine."
Ron raised his eyebrows at her.
"Don't worry about it," Harry told them. "Go ahead to lunch, I'll see you there."
Ron nodded and headed out the door, dragging Ginny along behind him.
Harry walked to the front of the room where Diana was packing up the various papers and things she'd brought with her.
"Yes?" Harry said, a little apprehensively.
"Relax, Harry," she said with a smile. "You're not in trouble. I just wanted to give you this," she put something into his hand.
It was a letter, at least two sheets of parchment, closed with a seal depicting a crescent moon.
"It's from Remus," she said. Harry looked up at her in surprise. "He felt it would be safer if I delivered it to you, rather than sending it by owl."
"How do you know Professor Lupin?"
To Harry's surprise, Diana looked away, blushing slightly. "We work together."
"Work together? But he doesn't work at St. Mungo's, how do--" And then it hit him. Oh, of course.
"Oh, you work for the Ord--"
"Shh--" she said quickly, looking around them. "Yes. Now, you're spending your Christmas holidays with the Weasleys, are you not?"
Harry nodded. "Yeah. Normally I'd spend them with Sirius, but..." he trailed off.
Diana smiled at him kindly. "Yes. Yes, Remus normally would have spent his holidays with Sirius as well." She paused, looking for a moment as if she wanted talk about Sirius some more. She apparently thought better of it though, and Harry was glad. "Well, if you're staying at The Burrow, then I should be seeing you soon. You should go off to lunch now, Harry, your friends will be wondering where you are."
Harry turned and headed for the door. He stopped in the doorway and looked back at her.
"Thanks," he said, "for the letter."
Diana smiled again and nodded. "See you soon, Harry."
* * *
Ron kept an eye out for Hermione from the moment he left the hospital wing until he arrived in the Great Hall for lunch. He scanned the Gryffindor table. Dean was already there, chatting with Seamus about something or other. Neville had obviously been at his Herbology session; he was covered in dirt and looking very happy.
And there was Hermione. Her book bag was on the bench beside her, saving a spot for him. Her hair was up now, tangled into a messy bun. She was absorbed in a brochure, not even aware that he was watching her. He smiled. That was his girl, right there. He came up quietly behind her, reached around and covered her eyes with his hands.
"Guess who?" he said.
"Ron?" she guessed, half giggling. Darn. Well, that's hardly any fun.
"Well... yeah, but keep guessing anyway."
"Umm... what about 'Ron'?"
Ron sighed and sat down next to her. "You're no fun."
Hermione smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek, then went back to her brochure. Ron started helping himself to chips.
"How was your session?" Hermione asked vaguely.
"Good, actually. I still don't want to be a healer, though. No way am I doing NEWT-level Potions with Snape. It was interesting anyway, though. How about you? What was your session again?"
Hermione put her brochure down and started in on her fish. "The International Magical Library Network, and not great, actually. It was mostly full of Slytherins who looked at me like I was Blast-Ended Skrewt. And the Librarian they had running the session was worse than Professor Binns. I've never heard anyone so monotone in my life. I didn't think it was possible to make Libraries sound boring..."
Ron grinned. "Not to you, maybe," he muttered.
Hermione didn't appear to have heard him, though. "This brochure is quite interesting though, they were given out at the end of the session. Did you know that all the libraries in the wizarding world are connected to each other? Apparently only the Librarians and people who work in the Network know how to move from one to another. I'm going to go back to the library this afternoon and read up on the Library Network, see if I can find out more about it. It's really very fascinating."
She put the brochure back in her bag and then looked up at Ron, who was grinning at her.
"What?"
Ron looked away, trying to hide his amusement. She was really quite adorable when she got like this. "Nothing."
"Ron..."
"No, really, Hermione, it's nothing. I just think it's funny how you--"
"No, Ron," she interrupted. "Where are Ginny and Harry?"
Dean looked over from his conversation with Seamus.
"Oh," Ron said. "The St. Mungo's Healer asked Harry to stay behind a minute, he said he'd be along."
"And Ginny stayed with him?" Hermione asked.
"No," said Ron, "she's right--" he looked around. Ginny had been right behind him all the way down from the hospital wing. Or, rather, he had assumed that she'd been right behind him. He'd been so busy looking for Hermione that he hadn't noticed Ginny much at all, actually. Now he thought of it though, he didn't remember seeing her since they'd left the Infirmary.
"That's odd. She was right behind me."
"Maybe she went to the loo," Dean suggested.
Hermione grinned and looked at Dean pointedly. "Maybe she's off in a closet somewhere."
Ron scowled.
"Yeah, maybe," Dean said, grinning at Ron defiantly. "Closets are good fun."
* * *
Ginny trailed slowly after Ron, a good few feet behind him. He was scanning the crowds in the corridor, presumably looking for Hermione, (which Ginny would have found actually quite adorable, if she hadn't had her mind on other things.)
After hours of crying into her pillow and fighting back nausea, she'd finally fallen asleep, only to be awoken by the morning bell soon thereafter. She'd been feeling extremely ill all morning, and even considered skipping her session and hiding in her dormitory. But everyone had known how much she'd been looking forward to the St. Mungo's session, and if she hadn't gone, they would definitely have suspected something.
So she'd gone to the session, though she'd gotten little enjoyment out of it. She had, instead, spent the time going over the events of the previous evening. She hoped no one would ask her about what they did during the session. She wasn't sure she could even recall the presenter's name.
Abruptly, a hand shot out of nowhere and grabbed Ginny's wrist, pulling her sharply to the side. Before she could react, she found herself in small, confined space filled with brooms and cleaning potions.
Oh no, not here. This was, with the possible exception of the Chamber of Secrets, the very last place on Earth she wanted to be.
Well, no, actually, right at the moment, she thought she just might prefer the Chamber.
"Hey there, Weasley."
A dim light was illuminating the closet, and Ginny could just make out Draco's pale features. He looked beautiful, and obviously hadn't lost any sleep over their time together the previous night. She shook her head and ignored her suddenly racing heartbeat. She tried to push past him to get to the door, but he stepped in front of her.
"Oh, come on," he said. "You ran off so fast last night, I didn't get to finish saying what I wanted to say."
Ginny glared at him. "I don't want to hear it. Let me past."
"Well that's quite the change of tune, don't you think?" He grinned and stepped toward her. "Not the impression you gave last night."
She stepped back, trying desperately to get some space between them. She felt the shelf at her back, and heard a few bottles tinkle together ominously. "Leave me alone, Malfoy, I mean it."
He stepped closer. "No you don't."
Ginny's mind raced. She had to get out of here now, while she still had the strength of will to do it. "I do too. I'm serious, Malfoy, stay away from me."
He reached up and gently brushed a strand of hair from her eyes, then caressed her cheek with his fingertips. Ginny shivered and jerked her face away from his hand, hitting her head on the shelf behind her.
"Ow! Shit!"
"Shh," he said, and Ginny could see his amused smile. "Be quiet, Ginny. Someone will hear us."
Ginny backed away from him until her back hit the wall opposite the door. "Don't do that," she said, feeling her emotions bubbling to the surface. "Don't say my name like we're friends. We're not friends, Malfoy. You're the slimiest, cruellest, most disgusting little ferret I've ever met, and, and..." she was losing steam now, " and I never really liked you anyway, and... you have stupid hair."
Draco's grin widened and he put a hand over his heart. "Ah, Weasley, hit me where it hurts." He stepped toward her, closing the distance between them. He combed his fingers through her hair and she shivered again. She could feel her resolve rapidly disappearing through the cracks.
"Why are you doing this to me, Draco?"
Draco looked surprised. "I thought it was quite obvious."
"It's not," she said firmly. "You never act like this. You're always mean and crude and... evil. What are you up to?"
He rested his hand on the wall above her and leaned toward her slightly. "Well that's being rather hypocritical, don't you think?"
"What?"
"You don't think it's hypocritical?" he said. "All of a sudden, you can want me, but I can't want you?"
Ginny's mind went blank. He'd said it. He'd actually said it. He'd actually told her that he wanted her. Well, sort of.
"I... you..." She felt her face growing hot. "That's so not what-- I... do not..."
He took a gentle, but firm hold of her chin and lifted her face, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Come on, Weasley. Let's not play games here."
"I..." her voice was hardly more than a whisper. "Please, Draco..."
He bent his head and brushed his lips gently against hers, and she thought for a moment that her heart had actually stopped beating.
He was kissing her. He was kissing her, and she was letting him. She let her mind go blissfully blank, ignoring the screaming guilt in the back of her brain. She just let herself enjoy the feel of his lips on hers, his hands in her hair. She wrapped her arms around his neck and breathed in deeply. He smelled like frosted salt water and black pepper and, unexpectedly, citrus.
She shouldn't be doing this. But it felt so perfect, so treacherously familiar. Dean had never made her feel this way...
Oh God, Dean.
Ginny let go of Draco and pushed him away from her. "I can't be here," she muttered. She moved passed him, reaching for the door handle.
"Hey, wait." He grabbed her hand and pulled her back.
"Draco, please. Just let me go."
He held her hands firmly at her side and landed a soft kiss on her lips. "What if I can't?" he whispered.
Ginny backed against the door, a welcome barrier against the rest of the world, and Draco came with her. He was still holding her hands, planting gentle kisses along her neck and jaw. She didn't think she could do this. She didn't think she could leave.
But, Dean...
No, that's it. This ends, right here. She leaned away from him and steeled herself, forcing the words out of her mouth. "I... I have to go, Draco. Let me go. Now."
"Come back tonight."
"What?" Oh, come on. This was hardly fair. She was just getting up her will power again.
"Meet me here later," he said. "After curfew, meet me here. Please."
Ginny hesitated, looking him in the eyes. No, don't look him in the eyes; you lose all your resolve when you look in those eyes. Look at... yes, that dirty, scummy bucket. Look at that. Very good. Now say it...
"Goodbye, Draco."
She turned around, opened the closet door and shut it behind her.
There. Perfect. Easy as pie. Now that's over with, you can get back to normal life, and forget it ever happened. Just forget about him.
* * *
Draco waited patiently in the broom closet, sitting comfortably on an upturned wash-bucket. There was a knock on the closet door. He glanced at his watch in the dim light that his wand afforded him. Twenty minutes past curfew.
Right on schedule.
He opened the door, and there was Ginny. Her hair was pulled up in a neat ponytail and she was blushing furiously. She was really very beautiful, when she wasn't constantly scowling at him. Her eyes were a very deep and cheerful shade of brown, reminding him of warmth and summertime.
"I'm... I'm not here to... Well, I just came to tell you that..." she trailed off then, and just stood silently in the doorway.
Draco smiled at her. In one fluid movement, he took her hand and pulled her into his arms, crushing her mouth with his own. He pushed her against the door, closing it with a bang as he did, and slid his arms around her waist.
"I knew you'd come," he whispered into her mouth.
"How?" she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck and lifting herself up on her tiptoes.
He pulled back and grinned at her, trailing a finger across her collarbone, and she shivered slightly at his touch.
"Because you want me as much as I want you."
She narrowed her eyebrows at him and shook her head. "You're evil, do you know that?"
He kissed her again, smiling. "Of course I do." He slid his hands down her back and held her firmly in his grip. "I'm also right." He moved his kisses down to her neck, enjoying how she shivered with every touch of his lips.
"No you're not," she murmured. "You're wrong, Malfoy. Everything about you is wrong." She gasped a little when his teeth raked her jaw line.
"Well, yeah," he muttered. "That's what you love about me, isn't it?"
She pulled away from him and looked him straight in the eye.
"You're a dangerous person, Draco."
He stayed silent, giving her time to continue, but she didn't say anything else.
"Is that a problem for you?" he asked.
She stayed silent for a moment longer, and then looked away, shaking her head. "I really have to get over this whole 'evil Slytherin' thing..."
Draco grinned. He hoisted her up into his arms, leaning her against the door, and she wrapped her legs around his waist for support.
"When you do, let me know," he whispered. "Until then, though..."
And this time, she kissed him, combing her fingers through his hair and opening her mouth in welcome.
* * *
"Where the hell have you been, Draco? It's nearly three-thirty in the morning."
Pansy was standing in the middle of the Slytherin common room, her arms crossed firmly across her chest.
Draco sighed. He should have expected that Pansy would wait up for him. "I was making out with a Gryffindor girl in a broom closet," he said.
"Fine, don't tell me!" Pansy stamped the floor with her foot like an insolent child. "But don't expect me to come to your room any more, Draco." She then turned and stormed off to the girls' dormitories.
Draco grinned. What was it people said about the Truth? It will get you out of tight spots with your girlfriend? Or something like that.
He headed down the steps to his own dorm, grateful to see that the other boys were all asleep.
He hadn't gotten too far with Ginny tonight, at least not in terms of valuable information. But she had come to him, and that was a start at least.
She had said one thing, though, that caught his attention. He hadn't commented on it, but made note of it to ask her later, when he'd gained her trust a little more.
"I really have to get over this whole 'evil Slytherin' thing..."
Draco didn't know which evil Slytherin she might be referring to, (there were rather a lot of them,) but it was definitely worth investigating.
He took out his book bag and retrieved the brochure that he'd received during his session that morning. He tapped it with his wand and said "Draco Malfoy."
After a second of nothing, slowly the information on the International Magical Library Network began to disappear. Within moments, the page was blank, but not for long. As if written by an invisible hand, elegant handwriting began to appear.
Draco,
What have you to report?
Draco took out a quill and dipped it in ink, paused for a moment, and then wrote:
I may have found a way to infiltrate Potter's gang. A girl. Father, you told me to keep an eye on them. What do you need me to find out?
He waited while his words disappeared into the parchment, and after a moment, his father's reply came through.
Our Master has requested that you find out where Potter will be staying over the holidays.
Draco thought for a moment before replying.
Potter usually stays at Hogwarts. That's probably where he'll be again this year.
When his father's answer came through, Draco could almost hear his stern, angry tone of voice.
I did not ask you what he usually does. What good is it to the Dark Lord to know what Potter usually does? Find out, with certainty, where he will be this year.
Yes, Father, Draco wrote.
When you join us here, our Master has requested that you officially join our ranks. He has great expectations of you. This is a great honour, Draco. I know you will not disappoint me.
Draco gritted his teeth. He hated when his father spoke to him this way, as if all he ever did was go around trying to embarrass the family. As if everything he did was not an attempt to impress his father. He took a deep, calming breath before replying.
Of course, Father. Thank you.
There was no reply. Instead, the parchment was wiped blank and the Library Network information appeared once more.
Draco put the parchment away and sat quietly on his bed for a long time, thinking about what awaited him when he arrived at Headquarters. He didn't know what Death Eater Initiation entailed, but it probably wasn't pleasant. Perhaps he would have to cut off a limb or something, like that Wormtail had. Or perhaps he would be asked to perform the Cruciatus Curse on some muggles. His mother had never let him watch on the occasions when his father had done it, but he didn't suppose it would be terribly hard.
It didn't matter, though. Whatever it was, he would do it. He would do whatever it took to show his father that he was not weak, to make him see where his loyalty lay.
* * *
It was extremely late when Ron and Hermione finally stumbled through the portrait hole that night, Hermione's ears still ringing with the Fat Lady's reprimand. The common room was rather a mess, with books, papers and the odd stray jumper lying about. Harry was sitting by himself on a couch by the fire, reading what appeared to be a letter.
"Where have you two been?" Harry asked, not looking up from his letter.
Ron grinned sheepishly and turned bright red, which Hermione couldn't help but find adorable. "We... we were just..." Ron stammered.
"Studying," Hermione finished for him, also grinning like a mad troll.
"Studying," Harry repeated. He nodded. "Right. Well, I hear the Astronomy Tower's a good place for late-night... 'studying'... Was there a good view tonight?"
Ron went redder still and mumbled something unintelligible. "'Night Hermione," he said, and gave her a quick kiss before heading for the stairs. "'Night Harry," he called over his shoulder, and disappeared up the stairs to the boys' dormitory.
"Goodnight, Harry," Hermione said, and made for her own dorm, when she paused at the foot the stairs and turned back. "Harry, aren't you going to bed? Why are you still up, anyway?"
Harry held up the sheets of parchment in his hand. "I got a letter from Professor Lupin."
"Really?" She hesitated for a moment, then crossed the room and sat down next to Harry. "What does he have to say? Is something wrong?"
Harry shook his head. "No, everything's fine." He put the letter in his bag and leaned forward, staring intently into dying fire. "He was mostly talking about Christmas holidays. He said he'd be joining us at the Burrow on Christmas Eve, stuff like that."
Hermione looked at him suspiciously; she wasn't buying it. He was avoiding her gaze, which he always did when he was hiding something. His eyes were shining in the fire light, bright with unshed tears.
"What else did he say?" she asked gently, trying not to push him.
Harry shrugged, still concentrating on the fire. "Just, you know, telling me how he is, a few things about Sirius, that's all..."
Oh, of course. Harry had avoided talking about Sirius's death, changing the subject or simply leaving the room whenever it came up. As far as she could tell, he hadn't really spoken with anyone about it much at all.
Hermione reached out and placed her hand gently over his. "I'm sorry, Harry. Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?"
Harry shook his head, and a tear splashed down his cheek.
"Hey..." Hermione said softly. She squeezed his hand and smiled at him, but he still wouldn't meet her eye. "You don't have to be so strong all the time, you know."
Harry wiped his cheek dry. "I'm fine, Hermione, honestly. I'm just tired, is all." He started to get up, but she held his hand firmly and pulled him back down onto the couch. No way was he getting off that easy.
"Come on, Harry," she said softly. "It's me."
Finally he looked up at her. She smiled encouragingly at him, and he smiled weakly back.
"I really am okay, Hermione," he said, and looked away again.
"No, you're not," she said quietly. "You loved Sirius. You're allowed to cry for him. You're meant to cry for him. I would be worried about you if you didn't. He was your family, Harry... your only real family now. Of course you're not okay."
Harry sat for a long time with his eyes closed, silent tears flowing steadily down his cheeks. The minutes ticked by on the grandfather clock, until it chimed the hour. Three o' clock. And still Hermione sat there, holding his hand in hers and waiting.
"No," Harry said finally, and Hermione almost jumped as his hoarse voice cut through the stillness.
"'No'?" she asked, uncomprehending. "'No' what?"
"Sirius wasn't my only real family."
Hermione scoffed. "Well, I would hardly call the Dursleys 'family', Harry."
"Neither would I," Harry said, and squeezed her hand gently. "That's not who I'm talking about." He turned to look at her, finally meeting her eye.
Hermione felt a warmth spread through her, as if she'd just swallowed a lot of Butterbeer or chocolate. She squeezed his hand more tightly in return and smiled warmly at him.
"Hermione..." Harry started, and looked away again. She couldn't quite tell in the near-darkness of the common room, but she thought he might have been blushing. "Hermione, have I... have I ever told you--"
Hermione reached up and gently wiped his face dry with her hand. "You don't have to, Harry. I know. Ron and I both do."
Harry nodded. "Good." He took in a deep breath and let it slowly. Perhaps Hermione was imagining it, but he looked lighter somehow, as if a heavy load had just been lifted.
"You should go off to bed, Harry," she said, squeezing his hand once more before standing up.
"What about you?"
Hermione smiled. "I'll head up in a minute, I'm just going to clean up here a bit first. You know, 'prefect duties' and all."
Harry nodded and smiled. "Sure," he said, and headed for the staircase. He paused at the base of the stairs and turned back a moment. "Thanks, Hermione. Really."
Hermione just nodded, and then turned away, picking up textbooks and piling them on the table. When she turned around, Harry had gone upstairs. She felt unaccountably light-headed, and figured that she must be more tired than she'd thought.
She was just finishing folding students' jumpers when the portrait hole opened and in came Ginny, looking more than a little dishevelled, like she had just gotten off her broom.
"Ginny?" She glanced at the clock. "Lord, it's nearly three-thirty, Ginny, where have you been?"
Ginny turned nearly as red as Ron had done and hurried passed Hermione to the stairs. "I was studying," she said. "I fell asleep."
"Well, why didn't Madam Pince wake you up when the library closed? I mean, she should have chucked you out hours ago-,"
"I wasn't in the library. I was... I was up in the Astronomy Tower. There's a really nice moon out tonight, and I had some Astronomy homework to do so--"
"But," Hermione interrupted, "Ron and I were up there until about half an hour ago. We didn't see you."
Ginny stopped in her tracks, looking horrified. "Really?" she said. She was obviously doing some very fast thinking.
Good heavens, thought Hermione. What on earth is going on here?
"Well, we probably were on opposite sides of the Tower," started Ginny, "and missed each other. I mean, being with Ron, you were probably pretty preoccupied, Hermione..."
Hermione felt her cheeks go hot. It's not as though she and Ron and had spent the entire time locked to each other's lips, for heavens' sake. They'd sat for a long time, just watching the moon and talking. Yes okay, true, there had been times when they were a little preoccupied... But not so much so that she wouldn't have noticed Ginny being there. And the tower wasn't really that big, she doubted very much that she'd have missed Ginny's presence.
She could hardly say this to Ginny though. It would put her on the defensive, to start with, and when Ginny got defensive, she got downright unpleasant. Besides, if Hermione lost Ginny's confidence now, she'd probably never find out what was going on.
Hermione shrugged. "You're probably right. Well, goodnight, Ginny."
Ginny turned around and practically ran up the steps to her dormitory.
Studying in the Astronomy Tower? The same kind of 'studying' she and Ron had been doing? But no, Dean hadn't been with her. Though, truth be told, Ginny had been awfully strange around Dean for the last month. Ginny probably thought she hadn't noticed, but she'd been acting very shifty and uncomfortable whenever Dean showed her any real affection, at least in public, and she'd become very prone to dropping things at odd moments. In fact, it was the same kind of behaviour she'd always exhibited around Harry when she'd had a crush on him. Only it didn't seem to be Harry this time around, and it certainly wasn't Dean.
Hermione thought back to all the instances she'd seen Ginny acting strangely or suddenly uncomfortable, thinking over who had been present.
Well... there did seem to be one common denominator. One person who was either present, or being talked about, in every instance. But... No, that was just ludicrous. And there's no way that Ginny would ever...
No, this is a horrible thing to even think, Ginny would never do that to Dean.
So then what could have kept her out of Gryffindor Tower until Three-Thirty in the morning?
* * *
The following weeks that lead up to Christmas holidays were at once the most exhilarating and most horrific of Ginny's memory. Draco would pull her out of the hallways into spare closets or hidden, confined spaces at every opportunity. Every night she left him with the assurance that she would not be coming back, that it was over. And every night he smirked, nodded, and told her he'd see her tomorrow.
The first few times that she'd left Gryffindor Tower and made her way to their closet (funny how she considered it 'their' closet now) she'd told herself firmly that she was only going so she could tell him that it was over, that she'd never see him again. Halfway through the second week, she'd given up pretending that she was doing anything less than cheating on Dean. She thought sometimes that she should break up with Dean, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. He would ask her why, ask her if there was someone else, and she knew that she wouldn't be able to hide from him who it was that had replaced him. She was having a hard enough time admitting to herself her feelings for Draco, she didn't think she could bare to speak them allowed, and certainly not to Dean.
It made her sick to her stomach to think of it, but she couldn't stop. Every time Draco pulled her into some stray closet, she would try to pull away and leave. It didn't work. Somehow, when she was with him, she lost all ability to think clearly or be objective. The air around her became muffled, as if someone were holding a pillow across her face, blocking out all sound and oxygen, all sensations but him. Somewhere, deep down, she knew that Draco was dangerous, that he would be her downfall. And somewhere, deeper down, she knew that she wanted him to be.
Not that Draco didn't have his moments of sweetness or gentleness. Ginny had been shocked to find that she felt perfectly at ease speaking to him about almost anything. She'd even confided in him about what Tom had done to her. Ginny's involvement in the Basilisk attacks of her first year had been kept fairly secret from the rest of the school, and Draco had been surprised to learn the truth of what had happened. But he'd listened thoughtfully, and comforted her when she cried. After only two weeks in his company, she felt that he knew her better than any of her friends or family. He could understand her in a way that no one else could, certainly in a way that Dean never could. Dean was too sweet, too innocent, to comprehend the growing darkness that had resided in her since her possession by Tom Riddle.
It was late now. She was sitting next to Draco, on the floor of their closet, her head resting on his shoulder.
"What are you doing for Christmas holidays?" she asked, sliding her hand into his.
"Going home," Draco said, and began tracing indiscernible designs on the back of her hand, sending goose bumps up her arms. "I always go home."
"You didn't in your second year."
Draco grinned at her. "Don't miss much, do you?"
"Never." Ginny waited for him to tell her why he hadn't gone home, but he didn't say anything. He didn't talk much about his parents or his home, and Ginny felt it best not to press him.
"What about you?" he asked.
Ginny shrugged. "Same, going home."
"Where's home?" Draco asked idly.
"Ottery St Catchpole, just outside the village," Ginny answered. "It's going to be a mad house this year, actually. All of my brothers are going to be home, except Percy," she added darkly. Percy had still refused to come home, or have anything to do with his family. Ginny rolled her eyes at the thought of him, and then continued. "Harry will be with us too of course, and Hermione's bringing her parents to visit. And then there will be a lot of people in and out from the Ord--" Ginny stopped herself just in time.
"The 'Ord'?" Draco asked.
"The Board," Ginny said quickly. "People that Dad works with..."
Draco nodded, and left it at that. Ginny wasn't sure he'd bought it, but there was nothing she could do now.
"When are you leaving?" he asked.
"Tomorrow, along with everyone else," she answered. "Funny how fast this month has gone, don't you think?"
Draco grinned again, and lifted her face up to look at him. "Yes, well, we've been keeping busy..."
Ginny blushed and tried to look away, but he held her face firmly in his hand and leaned toward her. She fell comfortably into his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling herself into his lap.
For a blissful few moments, Ginny's mind went blank, as she was so used to it doing these days, and she revelled in the sensation of drowning, of being on fire.
"I'll come see you," Draco murmured, "over the holidays."
Ginny smiled, closing her eyes and breathing in deeply. It took a moment for what he'd said to sink in, and she abruptly broke off their kiss, filled with a sudden horror.
"No, you can't!" she said, trying to restrain the near-hysteria in her voice. He couldn't come see her. The Burrow was doubling as Headquarters for the Order. Ginny didn't even want to think about what might happen if Draco tried to visit her there.
"Why the hell not?" he asked, and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist.
"Well..." Ginny thought quickly. "Well, because you'll be seen, Draco. There's going to be so many people in our house, there's no way you could get in or out without being seen."
"So what?" he said, looking her sternly in the eye. "The risk of being seen hasn't stopped me yet, I don't see why it should make any difference now."
Ginny felt her stomach clench uncomfortably. This wasn't working; he was really going to show up at The Burrow one night. No. No, he couldn't. She had to convince him.
"Look, I appreciate the gesture, but you can't come. I have obligations and... and responsibilities to people..."
Draco smirked. "What, like the obligation you had to be in Charms class yesterday? Didn't seem to stop you from staying with me then."
This was getting out of hand. "Draco, I'm serious," she said firmly. "You can't come see me. You just can't. You won't be able to get in, anyway, there are wards up all over the house--" Whoops. "Umm, because of You-Know-Who and all," she lied. "After he came back, Mum and Dad had wards put up all over the place."
Draco shrugged. "I could probably get around those easy," he said, smiling up at her. "Honestly, Weasley, do you really think a couple of enchantments could keep me from you?" He leaned forward to kiss her again, but Ginny pulled back, nearing hysteria.
"No! Just forget it, Draco, you're not coming, and that's that. I won't see you. If you show up, I'll... I'll set the dogs on you."
Draco raised an eyebrow at her. "You have dogs?"
"Yes," she lied. "For nosy boys who don't know when to back off."
Draco laughed and pulled her lips down to his, effectively derailing Ginny's train of desperate thought.
"All right, you win," he whispered into her mouth. "But when term starts up again," he said, "you and I will have some serious time to make up for."
Ginny blushed and smiled, letting out a breath of relief. "Okay," she whispered back, "it's a deal." She relaxed into his arms as he tightened them around her body and allowed him to lay her back against the dusty rags as he covered her mouth with his own, kissing her with his usual intensity.
Ginny quickly found it hard to breathe, lying crushed and buried beneath Draco. She felt a momentary stab panic, as she had many times before, and gasped for breath, desperate for oxygen but unable to push him away. Oh god, she thought, I'm really going to die here. Here Lies Ginny Weasley, Brutally Kissed to Death in a Broom Closet. He kissed her fiercely, bruising her mouth with his own. He was hurting her again, but she was oblivious to the pain, to anything but Draco and her ever growing need for him.
She closed her eyes and breathed him in, thinking how she would miss his frosty, citrus-y scent. Thinking how she had no right to miss it.
* * *
The Entrance Hall was in the midst of the usual holiday chaos as everyone prepared to leave Hogwarts for Christmas. The older students, used to the routine by now, were bringing their trunks to the front to be loaded onto carriages. Prefects were milling about between the younger students, showing them where to go and confiscating the odd dungbomb or firework.
Draco was leaning comfortably against the wall while Pansy, who had apparently forgiven him, prattled away about some brainless activity that she and her friends were doing for Christmas. As per usual, Draco wasn't listening to her (he found that nodding and mumbling 'yeah' at appropriate pauses seemed to keep her happy enough.)
He was, instead, keeping himself occupied by watching Ginny. She and Hermione were helping a group of first years to the front doors. Peeves, who'd managed to get hold of some of the confiscated dungbombs, was chasing the young students across the hall, calling them names and making one or two very rude gestures.
"Peeves," said Hermione warningly. "Am I going to have to call the Headmaster?"
Peeves blew a raspberry and chucked another dungbomb at her, which she only just managed to dodge. The Hufflepuff bloke behind her wasn't so lucky.
"Peeves!" Ginny scolded, stepping forward and pulling out her wand. Oddly, Peeves stopped and fell silent. Ever since the previous year, Peeves had given uncharacteristic amounts of respect to members of the Weasley family. "Cut it out, will you?" Ginny said, her hands on her hips.
"But ickle firsties need to be kept on their toes!" Peeves said, grinning wickedly. He grabbed hold of a first year boy's trunk and swung it up into the air. It fell to the ground with a sickening crunch, and the boy's belongings were scattered everywhere.
Ginny frowned. "If you don't cut it out, I'll tell my brothers," she warned.
Peeves heaved a dramatic sigh, chucked the rest of the dungbombs at a passing group of second year girls and disappeared through the opposite wall.
Ginny rolled her eyes and started helping the first year boy collect his belongings and put them back into his trunk.
Draco looked her up and down, taking advantage of her distraction to really admire every curve of her body. He noticed, with an inward smirk of satisfaction, that she had taken to wearing her Gryffindor scarf around her neck almost full time now. Her flaming hair was swept up today, a few curling tendrils of fire falling gently around her ears and the nape of her neck. She paused, apparently sensing that she was being watched, and turned to look at Draco.
He grinned cheekily at her. She blushed a little and looked away, helping the boy upright his trunk and pointing him towards the front entrance. She then walked off to join Harry and Dean by the door without a backward glance.
Draco hardly noticed that his brow furrowed when Dean put his arm around Ginny and began whispering something in her ear. He clenched his teeth and folded his arms tightly across his chest. For a moment he indulged in fantasizing about pulling out his wand and hexing Dean into oblivion, until he realised with a jolt that he was feeling jealous. He shook his head, perhaps hoping to shake the feeling out of him. Malfoys didn't get jealous. And besides, this was only the Weasley girl. It's not as if he fancied her or anything. She was a means to an end. Sure, he'd enjoyed their secret trysts together and all, but that was from a purely hormonal point of view. Wasn't it? Of course, that would be it. Teenage hormones were bound to make him territorial of Ginny. It was nothing that a good shag with somebody else wouldn't cure. Draco contented himself with the thought that at least he hadn't actually shagged Ginny. After all, if a few make-out sessions could make him feel this way, there was no telling how he'd feel if he'd actually slept with her.
He was so lost in thought that it wasn't until Pansy spoke up that he realised Hermione Granger was standing at his shoulder, scowling at him.
"What do you want, you filthy mudblood?" Pansy said scornfully.
"I'd like to speak to Malfoy..." she paused, then turned to glare at Pansy. "As in 'alone'."
"Well, tough," Pansy said back, stepping forward.
"Don't you have an elsewhere to be?" Hermione asked.
"I'm not going-," she started, but Draco stepped forward, interrupting her.
"It's fine, Pansy."
Pansy turned to look at Draco. "What? Draco--"
"I said it's fine. Now shove off."
Pansy let out a breath of indignation, stamping her foot on the stones. She turned on her heel and stormed off to join her girly Slytherin mates, and Draco turned to look at Hermione.
"So?" he prompted.
Hermione crossed her arms firmly across her chest. "I don't know exactly what's going on here," she started, obviously reciting from a speech she'd rehearsed a few times, "but I know something's going on. I'm not an idiot."
Draco smirked. Oh, come on, she really was just asking for it... "Well I don't know about tha--" he started, but she rolled her eyes and snorted in disgust.
"Oh, shut up," she said. "Just stay away from my friends, Malfoy. I don't know what you're up to, but I know it's not good. You're going to hurt her, and probably a lot of other people too, and I won't allow it. Just leave her alone."
And with that, she turned and stormed away, joining Ernie Macmillan in telling off some second years for throwing spitballs at the first years.
So, Granger had clued in, had she? Draco couldn't feel too surprised at this. Subtlety wasn't exactly Ginny's forte. Really, Draco was more surprised that the rest of Ginny's friends hadn't caught on yet.
Oh well. Soon the need for real secrecy would be over, and it wouldn't matter either way. He was sorry that he wouldn't be around to see the look on Dean Thomas's face when he found out, but that was a pleasure he would just have to forgo.
Draco told himself that he could content himself with the injured, betrayed look that would be on Ginny's face, but somehow that thought didn't inspire the anticipation that he felt it should.
He had imagined the scenario more times than he could count. Her mouth would drop open, and she would cover it with her hand. She would blush, her ears and cheeks turning that pleasant shade of pink that became her so well. Tears would well in her deep brown eyes and stream down her face. She would call him by his first name, her voice would be quiet with shock and disbelief.
It took him a moment to identify the feeling welling inside him as guilt. He was feeling guilty. He shook his head angrily, trying to ignore the nagging discomfort at the back of his mind. Draco wasn't very experienced in feeling guilty; his father had strictly forbid him to feel anything of the sort. His mantra had always been 'Never apologise, never explain.' If Malfoys didn't get jealous, they most certainly didn't feel guilty. And yet here he was, staring at Ginny and feeling sick to his stomach at the thought of the look on her face in one week's time.
He shook his head again, trying to snap himself out of it. What was wrong with him today? It must have been something he ate. He was being ridiculous. It was just a stupid infatuation, which a few weeks' distance, and maybe a good snog with someone else, would cure just fine.
"Are you going to apologise to me?" came Pansy's voice. She was standing at his elbow, her arms crossed over her chest, looking snobbier than ever. Here, Draco thought. Here was his chance to fill his head with someone other than Ginny. But standing there, staring at Pansy, the only thing Draco could think was how much she resembled a pug-faced dog.
He gritted his teeth. "No," he said harshly.
"What are you in such a bad mood about?" she asked sourly. "You look like you've just lost another Quidditch match to Potter." She looked over at Potter and his gang, where Ginny was glancing at Draco every few seconds, smiling and blushing slightly.
"Looks like somebody fancies you," Pansy sneered, looking amused. "That's adorable. Well since you obviously have no regard for me, you might as well start banging the blood-traitor." She grinned nastily. "Just promise me you'll let me watch when you're Father finds out..."
Draco growled and turned away, stalking angrily toward a group of first year Gryffindor students who were loitering in the doorway. "What are you staring at?" he snapped.
One terrified-looking boy backed away. "Nothing, we- we were just..."
"Ten points from Gryffindor," Draco said sharply, and walked away.
Somehow, taking points from Gryffindor didn't cheer him up the way it usually did.
References:
1) She'd been so nervous during her exam that she'd written 'I am a fish' one hundred times and passed out on her way out the door. - Red Dwarf
2) 'Guess who?' 'Umm, Ron?' 'Well, yeah, but keep guessing anyway.' 'How about Ron?' -Buffy
3) "And I never really liked you anyway, and... and you have stupid hair."- Buffy
4) "Don't you have an elsewhere to be?" -Buffy