May I present Chapter five? Things may start to make a bit more sense, but that could just be me saying that, considering I know all theh plot holes that you don't yet!
Just one thing to clear up about time transtitions and flashbacks, etc.: When the NARRATOR goes back in time (ie. nine months earlier), that's a part of the story that took place in the past. When a scene is written all in italics, and it looks like a flashback, that is GINNY flashing back. When it's the NARRATOR, it's not Ginny's flashback. This is important to clear up.
For example, all of this chapter takes place in the past arc of this story. It is not Ginny's flashback, but a narrator telling you things that happened in the 'past' of this story. The next chapter will open with an italicized scenethat also takes place in the past - that is Ginny flashbacking, whether through her own conscious memory, through a dream, etc... Any questions?
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Chapter 5: The Medrautian Order
Nine months earlier…
"Miss, I am delighted that you've agreed to meet with me," Ruggiero Ballan said, standing to greet her, as she arrived late and out-of-breath. Quickly casting an appraising eye over the location he'd chosen to meet with her - a little known restaurant on the outskirts of the Alley whose inner decor left a little to be desired. It was dark, the tables spaced apart, and many were obscured by big and bulky booths. It was clearly a place chosen for its limited patronage and thus smaller chance of being overheard.
"I have to admit, sir, that I was a little intrigued by your minister's request that I meet with you instead, when he's the one who initially contacted me. It is a little unusual for met to be dealing with anyone other than the designated diplomat of the country I'm dealing with," she said, after he shook her hand warmly and gestured for her to sit down.
"Now, my dear, that's not entirely accurate. You've been rather successful in charming powerful people in order to put pressure on your real target. Besides, this matter is of a rather sensitive nature, and my history with it gives me a certain amount of qualifications. Also, there is a need to have a more seasoned professional, especially considering your reputation for relentless negotiations," he said with a smile.
"Then one would wonder why it is that you've chosen to speak with me at all. Surely the Minister would be more than willing to be of assistance, and you may find him more accommodating than I am normally given to be," she said, voicing a question that had been plaguing her since the Italian minister had first appeared n her fireplace. If all they were after was assistance in searching for a historical artefact in this country, it would save a lot of time to go through fudge, he'd have more power and influence in that area than she would.
"There are recent additions to your curriculum vitae that make you the obvious choice, discretion being a major prerequisite."
"What exactly are we dealing with here, and what is it that you want from me?" she asked, cutting right to the point, feeling that the delicate dance of ambiguous statements was beginning to waste their time.
"Please understand that this is a very... delicate matter and I need your promise to remain discreet about it. Certain members in your acquaintance, of course, should be privy to what I will disclose to you - in fact, that is part of what makes you such an obvious choice of confidante, but otherwise, this should remain as quiet as possible."
"I'm getting the feeling that there is more to this than simply a missing object. You have my word, sir, I will remain as discreet as possible."
"It is the nature of the missing artefact that is of concern. Tell me, dear, what do you know of a group called the Medrautian Order?" he asked, leaning in as he lowered his voice.
“I can’t say I have,” Ginny said. Sensing the elder gentleman’s obvious discomfort, she pulled out her wand and cast a concealing charm over their table, so that any eavesdroppers would merely hear a rather amusing conservation reporting the latest gossip from The Daily Prophet.
“They are an ancient society, dating back to the formation of civil wizarding society, and they have exited throughout our history. They have only one goal – the recovery of an ancient artefact of untold power that they believe will bring about a revolution that will change the face of the modern wizarding world forever. They have been unsuccessful to date, mainly because there have been those who oppose them and their vision, and have assumed the responsibility for ensuring the secrecy of the object’s location. If it becomes compromised, they remove it to another location and are willing to do whatever it takes to ensure that it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
“When you say ‘change the face of the wizarding world forever’, what type of change are you talking about?” Ginny asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.
“They envision a unified society, brought under the control of their Chosen one – a direct descendant of the first Medraut. It includes the dominance of wizards and magic over the rest of the world’s inhabitants,” he explained gravely.
“So, it’s not a vision we should embrace. You mentioned that this artefact is extremely powerful. Care to let me know what it might be?”
”It caused the downfall of the protégé of the most powerful wizard that has ever been encountered, at least in recorded history. For the Medrauts to discover it would put the terror your country experienced at the hands of your Lord Voldemort to shame – it would be a disaster. And it is one of the most powerful objects ever created. We are not even sure if it was created by wizards – it’s origin is an aspect of it’s mystery,” he said. Ginny was growing frustrated with the lack of answers – what was this artefact and what did it have to do with her.
Ruggiero Ballan seemed to sense her frustration. Using a Muggle pen, he scribbled something on the dinner napkin in front of him, and turned it towards her, his palm resting over what he’d written, hiding it from her sight as he slid it across the table.
“When I show you what is written here, my dear, I feel that your very nature will commit you to agreeing to help me. What I ask is that you help me, and the others who are committed to ensuring that this object remains buried and away from the clutches of those who would do terrible things with it, find where it was hidden the last time. I have some intelligence that makes me believe that a vital clue as to its whereabouts has been discovered by the Medrauts, and we need to find it before they do. But before I do show you this, I want to inform you that the Medrautian Order is extremely powerful and highly dangerous. They will let nothing come between them and their ultimate goal, and they are not overly concerned with who they have to hurt in the process. Even showing you what I’ve written could endanger your life. Do you still wish to know what it is that they seek?” he asked, as if he half-hoped she’d refuse.
“If it’s as important – and as dangerous – as you are claiming, sir, then my answer is an unequivocal ‘yes’. Now please, show me.”
He nodded, and slowly removed his hand. Ginny’s eyes widened in shock and disbelief, looking from the one word scrawled on the napkin to the man seated in front of her, seeking confirmation that it was the word he’d meant to write.
“While you be of assistance in this matter, my dear? Will you help keep this away from the Medrauts?” he asked.
“My answer, sir, is once again an unequivocal ‘yes’,” she said without any hesitation.
The world of the napkin was Excalibur.
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He was sitting in the comfortable leather armchair in his study, where they often took naps together on Sunday afternoons, snuggled together, warm and drowsy from the fire beside it. She walked into the room, and smiled when she saw him reading a book, looking serene and engrossed in whatever it was he was reading.
“Honey, I’m home,” she said, rather wearily, walking towards him. He didn’t look up or make any move to acknowledge her presence. Slightly stung, she stood above him, petulantly glad that she blocked his light and hoped it made it more difficult for him to read, and waited for him to say something.
Minutes ticked by, punctuated only by the snap of the pages as he turned them, studiously ignoring the woman standing in front of him. She hovered over him, waiting some acknowledgement and he ignored her rather convincingly. She finally sighed, too tired to guess why she was getting the silent treatment. The only sound in the room was the thick rustle of parchment as he turned the pages in his book.
“The time, Weasel. I know it’s still rather difficult for you to grasp, having never seen a proper clock at home while you were growing up, but I’d hoped that I’d been able to have some sort of influence on you in that matter. You can tell time, can’t you?” he asked sarcastically, as he viciously snapped the pages of the book he was reading.
Ginny felt a hot wave of embarrassment shoot through her.
“Oh bloody hell. We were supposed to meet for dinner at six,” she said, wincing.
“Yes we were. As you will note, it is demonstrably past six, and you this is the second time that you have stood me up this month. Be warned, a Malfoy only waits for his woman twice,” he said with a cocky grin. Ginny felt relief flood through her – she’d been putting him off so much lately, and his display of habitual cockiness was his way of telling her he wasn’t angry. Irritated, yes, and distinctly warning her not to let it happen again, but not angry.
“I’m sorry. I’d say it won’t happen again, but we both know that’s unlikely,” she said, dropping into his lap as he tossed the book aside and pulled her to him. She sighed, as her body relaxed against his.
“It bloody well better not happen again. I was serious about only waiting on your twice. So, what’s a man to do when the woman he’s in love with can’t show up on time, even if the fate of the entire wizarding world depended on her punctuality? He makes certain that she at least owns a decent watch, and sets it a good 20 minutes ahead,” he said, shifting slightly, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a slim box and handing it to her.
He frowned, slightly perplexed at her stunned expression as he nudged the box into her hands. She rather looked as if she’d been hit by lightning.
“That’s the first time you said that,” she said softly, her eyes wide with disbelief.
“That you need a watch? I’ve been telling you that for months. Honestly, how does a women like you, with suck a tight schedule, manage to function properly without any clue as to what time it might actually be?” he asked, popping off the top of the box, taking out the watch and beginning to fasten it to her wrist. Detachedly, Ginny noticed that it was nice and simple – a slim leather band, a small face trimmed with gold, exactly her preference.
“No, not that I have a bad punctuality… but that … that you love me,” she said, in a hushed voice. Her face flushed bright red as she said it, and she had to look away from Draco, especially as he started to laugh.
“I asked you to spend the rest of your life with me – I rather thought that it was implied,” he scoffed with amusement.
“But you’ve never said it, not really.”
“Some things are just so true that they don’t need to be said, or they go without saying,” he said.
“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing that you’ve never said it – I know you do, of course I know you do! – but well, it was nice to hear,” she said, face burning, feeling silly for bringing it up. He chuckled, then pulled her close against his chest, nuzzling her neck. She relaxed against him, feeling the stress of her day melt away at his touch, and the familiar sparkle of electricity heat her skin as his lips met a particularly sensitive spot on her neck.
“Ginny?” he breathed, sending shivers down her spine. “I’ll promise to say it everyday if you promise to start showing up on time.”
“That’s a deal I think we can arrange,” she said with a smile.
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More later in the week. I've been dealing with school-related stress by writing scenes in my notebook instead of, like, you know, taking notes in class.
Just one thing to clear up about time transtitions and flashbacks, etc.: When the NARRATOR goes back in time (ie. nine months earlier), that's a part of the story that took place in the past. When a scene is written all in italics, and it looks like a flashback, that is GINNY flashing back. When it's the NARRATOR, it's not Ginny's flashback. This is important to clear up.
For example, all of this chapter takes place in the past arc of this story. It is not Ginny's flashback, but a narrator telling you things that happened in the 'past' of this story. The next chapter will open with an italicized scenethat also takes place in the past - that is Ginny flashbacking, whether through her own conscious memory, through a dream, etc... Any questions?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 5: The Medrautian Order
Nine months earlier…
"Miss, I am delighted that you've agreed to meet with me," Ruggiero Ballan said, standing to greet her, as she arrived late and out-of-breath. Quickly casting an appraising eye over the location he'd chosen to meet with her - a little known restaurant on the outskirts of the Alley whose inner decor left a little to be desired. It was dark, the tables spaced apart, and many were obscured by big and bulky booths. It was clearly a place chosen for its limited patronage and thus smaller chance of being overheard.
"I have to admit, sir, that I was a little intrigued by your minister's request that I meet with you instead, when he's the one who initially contacted me. It is a little unusual for met to be dealing with anyone other than the designated diplomat of the country I'm dealing with," she said, after he shook her hand warmly and gestured for her to sit down.
"Now, my dear, that's not entirely accurate. You've been rather successful in charming powerful people in order to put pressure on your real target. Besides, this matter is of a rather sensitive nature, and my history with it gives me a certain amount of qualifications. Also, there is a need to have a more seasoned professional, especially considering your reputation for relentless negotiations," he said with a smile.
"Then one would wonder why it is that you've chosen to speak with me at all. Surely the Minister would be more than willing to be of assistance, and you may find him more accommodating than I am normally given to be," she said, voicing a question that had been plaguing her since the Italian minister had first appeared n her fireplace. If all they were after was assistance in searching for a historical artefact in this country, it would save a lot of time to go through fudge, he'd have more power and influence in that area than she would.
"There are recent additions to your curriculum vitae that make you the obvious choice, discretion being a major prerequisite."
"What exactly are we dealing with here, and what is it that you want from me?" she asked, cutting right to the point, feeling that the delicate dance of ambiguous statements was beginning to waste their time.
"Please understand that this is a very... delicate matter and I need your promise to remain discreet about it. Certain members in your acquaintance, of course, should be privy to what I will disclose to you - in fact, that is part of what makes you such an obvious choice of confidante, but otherwise, this should remain as quiet as possible."
"I'm getting the feeling that there is more to this than simply a missing object. You have my word, sir, I will remain as discreet as possible."
"It is the nature of the missing artefact that is of concern. Tell me, dear, what do you know of a group called the Medrautian Order?" he asked, leaning in as he lowered his voice.
“I can’t say I have,” Ginny said. Sensing the elder gentleman’s obvious discomfort, she pulled out her wand and cast a concealing charm over their table, so that any eavesdroppers would merely hear a rather amusing conservation reporting the latest gossip from The Daily Prophet.
“They are an ancient society, dating back to the formation of civil wizarding society, and they have exited throughout our history. They have only one goal – the recovery of an ancient artefact of untold power that they believe will bring about a revolution that will change the face of the modern wizarding world forever. They have been unsuccessful to date, mainly because there have been those who oppose them and their vision, and have assumed the responsibility for ensuring the secrecy of the object’s location. If it becomes compromised, they remove it to another location and are willing to do whatever it takes to ensure that it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
“When you say ‘change the face of the wizarding world forever’, what type of change are you talking about?” Ginny asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.
“They envision a unified society, brought under the control of their Chosen one – a direct descendant of the first Medraut. It includes the dominance of wizards and magic over the rest of the world’s inhabitants,” he explained gravely.
“So, it’s not a vision we should embrace. You mentioned that this artefact is extremely powerful. Care to let me know what it might be?”
”It caused the downfall of the protégé of the most powerful wizard that has ever been encountered, at least in recorded history. For the Medrauts to discover it would put the terror your country experienced at the hands of your Lord Voldemort to shame – it would be a disaster. And it is one of the most powerful objects ever created. We are not even sure if it was created by wizards – it’s origin is an aspect of it’s mystery,” he said. Ginny was growing frustrated with the lack of answers – what was this artefact and what did it have to do with her.
Ruggiero Ballan seemed to sense her frustration. Using a Muggle pen, he scribbled something on the dinner napkin in front of him, and turned it towards her, his palm resting over what he’d written, hiding it from her sight as he slid it across the table.
“When I show you what is written here, my dear, I feel that your very nature will commit you to agreeing to help me. What I ask is that you help me, and the others who are committed to ensuring that this object remains buried and away from the clutches of those who would do terrible things with it, find where it was hidden the last time. I have some intelligence that makes me believe that a vital clue as to its whereabouts has been discovered by the Medrauts, and we need to find it before they do. But before I do show you this, I want to inform you that the Medrautian Order is extremely powerful and highly dangerous. They will let nothing come between them and their ultimate goal, and they are not overly concerned with who they have to hurt in the process. Even showing you what I’ve written could endanger your life. Do you still wish to know what it is that they seek?” he asked, as if he half-hoped she’d refuse.
“If it’s as important – and as dangerous – as you are claiming, sir, then my answer is an unequivocal ‘yes’. Now please, show me.”
He nodded, and slowly removed his hand. Ginny’s eyes widened in shock and disbelief, looking from the one word scrawled on the napkin to the man seated in front of her, seeking confirmation that it was the word he’d meant to write.
“While you be of assistance in this matter, my dear? Will you help keep this away from the Medrauts?” he asked.
“My answer, sir, is once again an unequivocal ‘yes’,” she said without any hesitation.
The world of the napkin was Excalibur.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He was sitting in the comfortable leather armchair in his study, where they often took naps together on Sunday afternoons, snuggled together, warm and drowsy from the fire beside it. She walked into the room, and smiled when she saw him reading a book, looking serene and engrossed in whatever it was he was reading.
“Honey, I’m home,” she said, rather wearily, walking towards him. He didn’t look up or make any move to acknowledge her presence. Slightly stung, she stood above him, petulantly glad that she blocked his light and hoped it made it more difficult for him to read, and waited for him to say something.
Minutes ticked by, punctuated only by the snap of the pages as he turned them, studiously ignoring the woman standing in front of him. She hovered over him, waiting some acknowledgement and he ignored her rather convincingly. She finally sighed, too tired to guess why she was getting the silent treatment. The only sound in the room was the thick rustle of parchment as he turned the pages in his book.
“The time, Weasel. I know it’s still rather difficult for you to grasp, having never seen a proper clock at home while you were growing up, but I’d hoped that I’d been able to have some sort of influence on you in that matter. You can tell time, can’t you?” he asked sarcastically, as he viciously snapped the pages of the book he was reading.
Ginny felt a hot wave of embarrassment shoot through her.
“Oh bloody hell. We were supposed to meet for dinner at six,” she said, wincing.
“Yes we were. As you will note, it is demonstrably past six, and you this is the second time that you have stood me up this month. Be warned, a Malfoy only waits for his woman twice,” he said with a cocky grin. Ginny felt relief flood through her – she’d been putting him off so much lately, and his display of habitual cockiness was his way of telling her he wasn’t angry. Irritated, yes, and distinctly warning her not to let it happen again, but not angry.
“I’m sorry. I’d say it won’t happen again, but we both know that’s unlikely,” she said, dropping into his lap as he tossed the book aside and pulled her to him. She sighed, as her body relaxed against his.
“It bloody well better not happen again. I was serious about only waiting on your twice. So, what’s a man to do when the woman he’s in love with can’t show up on time, even if the fate of the entire wizarding world depended on her punctuality? He makes certain that she at least owns a decent watch, and sets it a good 20 minutes ahead,” he said, shifting slightly, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a slim box and handing it to her.
He frowned, slightly perplexed at her stunned expression as he nudged the box into her hands. She rather looked as if she’d been hit by lightning.
“That’s the first time you said that,” she said softly, her eyes wide with disbelief.
“That you need a watch? I’ve been telling you that for months. Honestly, how does a women like you, with suck a tight schedule, manage to function properly without any clue as to what time it might actually be?” he asked, popping off the top of the box, taking out the watch and beginning to fasten it to her wrist. Detachedly, Ginny noticed that it was nice and simple – a slim leather band, a small face trimmed with gold, exactly her preference.
“No, not that I have a bad punctuality… but that … that you love me,” she said, in a hushed voice. Her face flushed bright red as she said it, and she had to look away from Draco, especially as he started to laugh.
“I asked you to spend the rest of your life with me – I rather thought that it was implied,” he scoffed with amusement.
“But you’ve never said it, not really.”
“Some things are just so true that they don’t need to be said, or they go without saying,” he said.
“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing that you’ve never said it – I know you do, of course I know you do! – but well, it was nice to hear,” she said, face burning, feeling silly for bringing it up. He chuckled, then pulled her close against his chest, nuzzling her neck. She relaxed against him, feeling the stress of her day melt away at his touch, and the familiar sparkle of electricity heat her skin as his lips met a particularly sensitive spot on her neck.
“Ginny?” he breathed, sending shivers down her spine. “I’ll promise to say it everyday if you promise to start showing up on time.”
“That’s a deal I think we can arrange,” she said with a smile.
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More later in the week. I've been dealing with school-related stress by writing scenes in my notebook instead of, like, you know, taking notes in class.
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