Disclaimer: I don’t own HP, just the plot.
Chapter Three: I Spy
Ginny sighed as she scrubbed the last desktop in the Potions classroom. She had been scrubbing sticky orange goo off all the desks for the last three hours.
‘That is the last time I ever stick up for Luna’ she thought as she duly wrung out the rag in the stone sink.
It really wasn’t fair. Luna had been carefully measuring lacewings into her cauldron when a Slytherin from the other side of the room launched a mortwood beetle eye across the class and it landed, as luck would have it, with a splash into Luna’s cauldron.
Ginny had been her partner in the class since the beginning of the year because that year a record low amount of fifth year students were enrolled in Potions. It had been decided, for efficiency's sake, that all four houses would be put together in one class.
The mortwood beetle eye had caused the potion in Luna’s cauldron to bubble vigorously and then suddenly explode in one giant splosh covering everyone and everything in orange muck. Snape had been quick to slink over and snap at Luna. Ginny, jumped up to her defense, loudly blaming the Slytherins, then silently hit herself for being such a loudmouth Gryffindor hero. One of her goals this year was to really focus on thinking before speaking. Snape, always quick to capitalize on a Weasley in distress, had quickly left Luna and stalked over to her.
“Now, now Miss Weasley, telling tales is not rewarded in this class, this is not Divination, is it? In fact, I believe I shall have to correct that behavior of yours.”
With a few mumbled words and a flick of his wand, Snape made the mess disappear. He then looked at Ginny.
“Don’t worry, Miss. Weasley,” he sneered, “it will be brought back tonight when your detention will be to clean it all up, no magic allowed.” Snape finished with an evil grin appearing on his sallow face.
At eleven'o'clock, Ginny had finally finished her detention. Completely exhausted, with one last groan, she threw her scrub brush and rag into the bucket full of dirty cleaning water, eager to get away.
She sighed in anguish as the water splashed back upon her robes.
“Great” she mumbled to herself, “absolutely fab, this day can’t possibly get any worse.”
Her normal cheery disposition had gone, replaced by a decidedly frayed Weasley temper. With the room spotless and the bucket and rags finally put away, Ginny strode to the door and peeped out cautiously, despite her mood. She was still wary enough to not want to get caught by Filch or Mrs. Norris on her way back to the Tower, after all it was far past curfew.
Ending up with a detention for being in detention would really end the day with a bang. Ginny decided that the safest way to get to her common room would be to go the back way: through the dungeons.
Longer, yes, darker, most certainly, but far less frequented by most students and teachers. She, herself, had only found the route when she took a wrong turn back in third year as she was searching for the kitchens.
Her feet made no noise as she carefully crept along the stone corridor and deeper into the dungeons. She slunk along the wall, which allowed her easy access to hiding spots behind statues or in disused classrooms should someone come along. She desperately wanted nothing more than to get up to her room and collapse in her big four-poster.
All of a sudden, a sound whispered through the corridor.
She stopped dead in her tracks, quickly looking up and down the hallway.
‘Nope’ she thought to herself, ‘must be in one of the rooms along here, oh Zeus, I hope it isn’t Peeves, I’d be so dead, if he caught me, he’d wake the castle and then I'd be in for it.’
Ginny slowly walked closer to the door where she thought the noise was coming from.
‘It doesn’t sound like Peeves, that’s for sure,’ she reflected, as she listened to a smooth, medium timbre voice mumbling quietly inside. It sounded strangely familiar to Ginny in a way, but she couldn’t quite identify the speaker.
‘And, logically,’ she thought, ‘why would I know someone who is hiding down in the dungeons in the middle of the night?’
It just didn’t make sense, but something other then logic was tugging at her insides, recognizing the voice.
“Well,” she finally said to herself, “I’ll just take a little peek and settle this. From what it sounds like, the person attached to that voice is concentrating far too hard to even notice me.”
And with that, Ginny and her Gryffindor courage, cautiously, millimetre by millimetre, widened the gap between the door and the jamb. Her eyes widened with shock at what she saw.
Within the classroom paced a slightly disheveled Draco Malfoy. His hair, so carefully slicked back had fallen into his face, and he distractedly kept pushing it aside. His robes were open, revealing an un-tucked white oxford shirt and a loosened tie.
He was murmuring to himself, so softly that Ginny couldn’t quite make out the words, though she was sure it was some kind of incantation. Abruptly, he stopped pacing and talking. Ginny thought she was caught.
‘Sweet Proserpina! Now how am I going to get out of this!’ she pondered, when suddenly Malfoy stepped up to two huge tomes on a table, scanning one page quickly, his eyes lit on what he was searching for, and he grabbed up a small dragonhide covered journal and a quill and began noting it down. This would have been the perfect time for Ginny to slowly back away, but she just couldn’t do it. Ginny was far too curious.
“What in all of Hades' realm is that prat up to now?” she wondered quietly.
It had to be Dark Magic, couldn’t it? He certainly didn’t look like he was practicing Cheering Charms with that serious look on his face. The again, she had never actually seen him smile... maybe that was his happy face?
‘But what about his wand?’ she thought quickly, ‘it isn’t in his hand nor anywhere in sight. Hmm, very peculiar.’
Just when Ginny thought things couldn’t get any stranger, they did.
She was now staring at Malfoy with eyes as wide as teacup saucers.
‘Is he doing what I think he’s doing? He can’t be, he’s such a ..a...a.. PRAT.’
Her thoughts slowed to a stop as she continued to watch the magic that Malfoy was concentrating so hard on performing. After a couple of minutes, Malfoy stopped and turned back to his journal to make more notes. This snapped Ginny back into reality and she unwillingly urged herself back into stealthily walking back to Gryffindor Tower, leaving Malfoy completely unaware that his secret was no longer safe.
After finally making it back to the empty common room, she fell into the couch in front of the fire, tired but with plenty to think about.
The fire crackled merrily as she stared into the flames, trying to sort out what she had seen.
Well, firstly, it was obviously something Malfoy wanted to keep secret. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be practicing alone, in an abandoned classroom and certainly not down a corridor no one knows about..
Secondly, it was bloody brilliant!
Ginny didn’t know that Malfoy had it in him to take on something this monumental. It was one of the most difficult things a witch or wizard could do, and not only that, he was teaching himself. Frankly, she was envious.
‘Imagine,’ she thought suddenly, ‘having that power within my reach. I would never feel helpless or insignificant again...’ She shuddered at the thought and continued to stare into the flames.
Slowly, a feral grin spread across her face.
She had a plan.
A plan wherein she would learn this powerful magic from a most reluctant teacher. Tomorrow she would implement the first step.
And with that, she climbed up to her dorm, crawled into her covers and was fast asleep in seconds.
~*~
Ginny sighed as she scrubbed the last desktop in the Potions classroom. She had been scrubbing sticky orange goo off all the desks for the last three hours.
‘That is the last time I ever stick up for Luna’ she thought as she duly wrung out the rag in the stone sink.
It really wasn’t fair. Luna had been carefully measuring lacewings into her cauldron when a Slytherin from the other side of the room launched a mortwood beetle eye across the class and it landed, as luck would have it, with a splash into Luna’s cauldron.
Ginny had been her partner in the class since the beginning of the year because that year a record low amount of fifth year students were enrolled in Potions. It had been decided, for efficiency's sake, that all four houses would be put together in one class.
The mortwood beetle eye had caused the potion in Luna’s cauldron to bubble vigorously and then suddenly explode in one giant splosh covering everyone and everything in orange muck. Snape had been quick to slink over and snap at Luna. Ginny, jumped up to her defense, loudly blaming the Slytherins, then silently hit herself for being such a loudmouth Gryffindor hero. One of her goals this year was to really focus on thinking before speaking. Snape, always quick to capitalize on a Weasley in distress, had quickly left Luna and stalked over to her.
“Now, now Miss Weasley, telling tales is not rewarded in this class, this is not Divination, is it? In fact, I believe I shall have to correct that behavior of yours.”
With a few mumbled words and a flick of his wand, Snape made the mess disappear. He then looked at Ginny.
“Don’t worry, Miss. Weasley,” he sneered, “it will be brought back tonight when your detention will be to clean it all up, no magic allowed.” Snape finished with an evil grin appearing on his sallow face.
At eleven'o'clock, Ginny had finally finished her detention. Completely exhausted, with one last groan, she threw her scrub brush and rag into the bucket full of dirty cleaning water, eager to get away.
She sighed in anguish as the water splashed back upon her robes.
“Great” she mumbled to herself, “absolutely fab, this day can’t possibly get any worse.”
Her normal cheery disposition had gone, replaced by a decidedly frayed Weasley temper. With the room spotless and the bucket and rags finally put away, Ginny strode to the door and peeped out cautiously, despite her mood. She was still wary enough to not want to get caught by Filch or Mrs. Norris on her way back to the Tower, after all it was far past curfew.
Ending up with a detention for being in detention would really end the day with a bang. Ginny decided that the safest way to get to her common room would be to go the back way: through the dungeons.
Longer, yes, darker, most certainly, but far less frequented by most students and teachers. She, herself, had only found the route when she took a wrong turn back in third year as she was searching for the kitchens.
Her feet made no noise as she carefully crept along the stone corridor and deeper into the dungeons. She slunk along the wall, which allowed her easy access to hiding spots behind statues or in disused classrooms should someone come along. She desperately wanted nothing more than to get up to her room and collapse in her big four-poster.
All of a sudden, a sound whispered through the corridor.
She stopped dead in her tracks, quickly looking up and down the hallway.
‘Nope’ she thought to herself, ‘must be in one of the rooms along here, oh Zeus, I hope it isn’t Peeves, I’d be so dead, if he caught me, he’d wake the castle and then I'd be in for it.’
Ginny slowly walked closer to the door where she thought the noise was coming from.
‘It doesn’t sound like Peeves, that’s for sure,’ she reflected, as she listened to a smooth, medium timbre voice mumbling quietly inside. It sounded strangely familiar to Ginny in a way, but she couldn’t quite identify the speaker.
‘And, logically,’ she thought, ‘why would I know someone who is hiding down in the dungeons in the middle of the night?’
It just didn’t make sense, but something other then logic was tugging at her insides, recognizing the voice.
“Well,” she finally said to herself, “I’ll just take a little peek and settle this. From what it sounds like, the person attached to that voice is concentrating far too hard to even notice me.”
And with that, Ginny and her Gryffindor courage, cautiously, millimetre by millimetre, widened the gap between the door and the jamb. Her eyes widened with shock at what she saw.
Within the classroom paced a slightly disheveled Draco Malfoy. His hair, so carefully slicked back had fallen into his face, and he distractedly kept pushing it aside. His robes were open, revealing an un-tucked white oxford shirt and a loosened tie.
He was murmuring to himself, so softly that Ginny couldn’t quite make out the words, though she was sure it was some kind of incantation. Abruptly, he stopped pacing and talking. Ginny thought she was caught.
‘Sweet Proserpina! Now how am I going to get out of this!’ she pondered, when suddenly Malfoy stepped up to two huge tomes on a table, scanning one page quickly, his eyes lit on what he was searching for, and he grabbed up a small dragonhide covered journal and a quill and began noting it down. This would have been the perfect time for Ginny to slowly back away, but she just couldn’t do it. Ginny was far too curious.
“What in all of Hades' realm is that prat up to now?” she wondered quietly.
It had to be Dark Magic, couldn’t it? He certainly didn’t look like he was practicing Cheering Charms with that serious look on his face. The again, she had never actually seen him smile... maybe that was his happy face?
‘But what about his wand?’ she thought quickly, ‘it isn’t in his hand nor anywhere in sight. Hmm, very peculiar.’
Just when Ginny thought things couldn’t get any stranger, they did.
She was now staring at Malfoy with eyes as wide as teacup saucers.
‘Is he doing what I think he’s doing? He can’t be, he’s such a ..a...a.. PRAT.’
Her thoughts slowed to a stop as she continued to watch the magic that Malfoy was concentrating so hard on performing. After a couple of minutes, Malfoy stopped and turned back to his journal to make more notes. This snapped Ginny back into reality and she unwillingly urged herself back into stealthily walking back to Gryffindor Tower, leaving Malfoy completely unaware that his secret was no longer safe.
After finally making it back to the empty common room, she fell into the couch in front of the fire, tired but with plenty to think about.
The fire crackled merrily as she stared into the flames, trying to sort out what she had seen.
Well, firstly, it was obviously something Malfoy wanted to keep secret. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be practicing alone, in an abandoned classroom and certainly not down a corridor no one knows about..
Secondly, it was bloody brilliant!
Ginny didn’t know that Malfoy had it in him to take on something this monumental. It was one of the most difficult things a witch or wizard could do, and not only that, he was teaching himself. Frankly, she was envious.
‘Imagine,’ she thought suddenly, ‘having that power within my reach. I would never feel helpless or insignificant again...’ She shuddered at the thought and continued to stare into the flames.
Slowly, a feral grin spread across her face.
She had a plan.
A plan wherein she would learn this powerful magic from a most reluctant teacher. Tomorrow she would implement the first step.
And with that, she climbed up to her dorm, crawled into her covers and was fast asleep in seconds.
~*~
To Be Continued.
sweetproserpina is the author of 6 other stories.
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