I do not own the characters; they belong to the brilliant JK. I’m only taking them for a little spin around the block. I promise not to harm them (ok, maybe I’ll harm them a little bit, but only for drama’s sake!), so please do not send any lawyers after me.
Friends in Low Places
By Nola Ryan
The Great Escape
“Mum, there is nothing wrong with me!” Ginny proclaimed, yanking her arm free as her mother tried to maneuver her away from the window, where Ginny was watching the brilliant colors of the sunrise come to life.
“You need to stay in bed, you’re still not sleeping properly,” Mrs. Weasley insisted, dragging Ginny back to her bed.
“The stupid dreams will stop once I’m back in my own bed with my friends around me. It’s being stuck in here that’s getting to me,” Ginny complained, shaking her mother off again. She jerked the blankets off her bed and then checked under it, opened the drawers of her nightstand and then banged them shut in frustration. “Where are my clothes?”
“The school house elves are still trying to all the dirt and other…things…out of your robes and uniform,” Mrs. Weasley admitted hesitantly. “Hermione only brought bedclothes by for you, we didn’t think you’d need anything else for a few days yet.”
“You were wrong.” Ginny ripped off the nightdress she was wearing. “Get me something to wear!” she bellowed, stamping her foot.
Mrs. Weasley quickly grabbed her by the shoulders. “You will not speak to your mother like that, young lady.”
Ginny shoved her mother away. “I’ll leave here in my knickers if you don’t find me something to put on right now!” she threatened.
There was a snicker from the bed next to hers. Ginny tore aside the curtain. “What’s so bloody funny?” she screeched at Draco.
Draco said nothing, unable to do anything but gape at the sight of a raging Ginny, clad only in her knickers, standing before him.
“Ginevra!” screamed Mrs. Weasley, grabbing a blanket and wrapping it around Ginny as she pulled the girl back to her bed. “This is why you are not leaving here yet. You are not yourself.”
“I’m NEVER going to be the Ginny I used to be! She’s lying cold and dead in the Chamber of Secrets!” Ginny ranted, trying unsuccessfully to wrestle her way out of her mother’s vice-like grip. “If you can’t accept that, accept me, then leave me the hell alone!”
Instead Mrs. Weasley clutched Ginny tightly to her. “Stop this, Ginny, stop this. You don’t know what you’re saying. You will be able to be the same little girl you were, just as soon as you forget all the bad things that happened and go on with your life.”
“Forget?” Ginny laughed, a cold, bitter sound that made Mrs. Weasley shudder and pull away, trying to look her daughter in the eye. Ginny took advantage of her mother’s loosened grip to yank herself free. “You’re an idiot,” she spat. “It’s too late to protect me now. The damage is already done. And if you think I’ll ever be able to forget what happened…” She let the sentence trail off, pulling the blanket tightly around her against the shiver that ran through her whenever visions of the Chamber invaded.
“Ginny …” Mrs. Weasley took a step toward her, but Ginny dodged her mother’s attempt to take her in her arms again.
“Your efforts to comfort me are tiresome.” She started for the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Mrs. Weasley called desperately.
“Away from you,” Ginny proclaimed without stopping.
“No you are not!” Mrs. Weasley declared, pulling out her wand. “Stupify!”
Ginny fell to the floor like a stone. Mrs. Weasley covered her mouth with her hand, horrified by what she’d done.
The commotion had brought Madame Pomfrey running, still dressed in her nightclothes. “Molly, what…” She stopped short as she spotted Ginny on the ground, out cold underneath the blanket.
“She tried to leave. I couldn’t let her, not in the state she was in, so I…I…I stopped her,” Mrs. Weasley confessed tearfully, sinking onto Ginny’s bed.
Madame Pomfrey put a comforting hand on Mrs. Weasley’s shoulder. “You’re tired, you weren’t thinking clearly,” the matron reassured her. “Let’s get her back into bed.”
She flicked her wand at Ginny. “Wingardium Leviosa.” Ginny’s limp form floated over to the bed at the direction of Madame Pomfrey’s wand. Mrs. Weasley leapt up to make room for her. “Why don’t we let her sleep that off while I get you some tea?” Pomfrey suggested.
Mrs. Weasley shook her head, but Madame Pomfrey took her gently by the arm. “You need time away from her, Molly. It’s been a difficult two days. Come have a cuppa and let yourself calm down. Your daughter won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.”
Mrs. Weasley let the matron lead her into her office. Draco waited until Madame Pomfrey had shut the door behind them and then pushed himself into a sitting position, wincing at the effort.
“Weasley,” he called.
Ginny didn’t move. Draco slid his wand out from under his blanket and pointed it at her. “Enervate,” he muttered. A red light came out of his wand but faded before reaching Ginny. Draco sighed. “Bloody brilliant. Can’t even do a simple spell from a few feet away.”
He struggled to swing his legs over the side of the bed, panting heavily when he finally managed to do so. By the time he was able to get to his feet, after several failed attempts had sent him crashing back down onto the bed, his silky green pajamas were clinging tightly to his sweat-drenched back and chest.
“What the hell am I doing?” he muttered, swaying as he took a shaky step toward Ginny’s bed. He grabbed on to a rolling table next to his bed for support, sending the glass of water Madame Pomfrey had put on there for him crashing to the ground. Draco looked anxiously toward Madame Pomfrey’s office, but she must not have heard the noise, as her door remained closed.
Draco leaned heavily on the table, which sagged under his weight, and used it as support as he made his way over to Ginny’s bed. He sank into the chair next to her with a sigh of relief, pushing the table away. Breathless from the effort of those few short steps, Draco closed his eyes and tried to slow down his hammering heart. He listened anxiously for sounds of Madame Pomfrey’s return, but her door remained closed.
When he was finally able to breathe normally again, Draco lifted his wand. “Enervate,” he said, touching it to Ginny’s outstretched arm, the only part of her he could reach without too much effort.
This time Ginny stirred and soon her eyes flickered open. She looked around frantically until her gaze settled on Draco.
“Malfoy?”
“Shh, they’ll hear you,” he whispered, putting a finger to his lips.
Ginny sat up, looking around in confusion. “Who?”
“Your mum and Pomfrey,” he told her. “You don’t want to get stunned again, do you?”
“So that’s why my head hurts,” Ginny mumbled, making circles on her temple with her fingers. Then it hit her what he’d said. “Wait, they stunned me?
Draco nodded. “Your mum wanted to stop you leaving.”
“My mum?” Ginny squeaked in horror.
“She was beyond spare. Pomfrey had to drag her off to keep her away from you,” related Draco, eyes shining with amusement. “Your mum is almost as batty as you are, you know. I wouldn’t be surprised if Pomfrey’s sneaking a Calming Draft into her tea right this minute. So now would be the perfect time to get on with your going.”
Ginny ignored his insults as she eyed him carefully. “Did you get out of bed just to revive me?” Ginny wondered.
Draco waved a hand, trying to be nonchalant. “I needed the exercise, I have to build my strength back up.”
“Why would you help me?”
“It wasn’t right for her to stun you when your back was turned,” said Draco with a dark look. “Not right at all.”
“Since when does a Malfoy care about what’s right?” Ginny taunted.
Draco’s cheeks flushed and he lowered his eyes as he scrambled to find a better excuse for his actions. “Okay, so I really wanted to see the trouble it would cause when they came back and found you gone,” he finally blurted out.
She laughed. “That’s more like it. I wouldn’t mind being a fly on the wall for that one myself. That’ll teach Mum for stunning me.”
Draco didn’t answer as he rested his head against the back of the chair, closing his eyes. Ginny couldn’t help but notice his deathly pale color, the sweat that mussed his normally-perfect hair and the way his white knuckles were clutching the arms of the chair. “Are you supposed to be out of bed?”
“I’m beginning to realize it was a very bad idea,” Draco murmured, still not opening his eyes.
“If you pass out now you’ll miss all the trouble that’s about to happen,” Ginny reminded him. “And my mum will know you helped me get out of here and kill you for that kindness.”
“It’s not kindness,” Draco insisted. He opened his eyes and tried to push himself up but collapsed back into the chair. “Would you help me?” he panted, trying to catch his breath.
“Why should I help you stay out of trouble?”
“I have robes,” Draco offered.
“Everyone here does, they’re part of the uniform,” said Ginny with a smirk.
“I have robes here, you spotty bint,” Draco sniped. “And while you fill out those knickers surprisingly well for a first year…” He smirked at the furious blush that crept into Ginny’s cheeks. “I don’t think you want to be showing them off to everyone you’ll run into on your way back to your dorm. So I will lend you the robes in return for helping me back to my bed.”
“I could just take them, you’re in no condition to stop me,” Ginny warned him, getting up and pulling the blanket tight around her.
“I can still do a spell or two,” Draco let her know. “And if I give a shout, your mum will come running.”
“And you’ll be caught.”
“But so will you, and I’m not the one your mum will screech at first,” Draco reminded her.
Ginny scowled. “Let’s get on with it then, so I can get out of here.”
She grabbed her wand from her nightstand and did a fastening charm on the blanket to keep it around her. Draco chuckled. “Little late for that, isn’t it?”
“Keep your mouth shut and get up out of that chair,” Ginny snarled.
Draco smirked at her annoyance, but the look quickly vanished as he struggled to push himself out of the chair. He finally managed to get to his feet, but Ginny had to grab him under the arms to stop him from toppling over. He was almost a foot taller than her, and she stumbled a bit under his bulk as he fell forward heavily. Recovering surprisingly fast, she gently pushed him upright.
“You’re strong for a little thing,” Draco mumbled.
“Having six brothers will do that to a girl,” Ginny quipped. She took a step back and slid her hands down his arms, so she was now grasping him only by his elbows. “Ready to walk?”
Although still panting from exertion, Draco nodded and shook off her grasp. He closed his eyes in concentration and took a shaky step but stumbled again.
“Sorry,” he muttered as Ginny caught him.
“Yes you are,” Ginny taunted. “Come on, Malfoy, you can do this. Focus.”
“Easy for you to say,” Draco growled through gritted teeth, taking another shaky step, this time leaning heavily on Ginny. “I’d like to see you walk around a day after nearly bleeding to death.”
“Who was it nearly killed you?” Ginny questioned, letting Draco stop to try and catch his breath.
“None of…your…business,” he huffed.
“You weren’t hexed, you have too many bruises for that,” Ginny noted, pulling aside the collar of his pajama shirt.
“Weasley, quit trying to look at my chest,” Draco scolded, pulling away from her with a wince and grabbing the rolling table for support instead.
“You looked at mine.”
Draco took one final step and sank onto his bed in relief. “It would have been rude not to when you were flashing it so,” he told her, trying to lift his legs onto the bed but finding he didn’t have the strength.
“How did whoever hurt you get past Crabbe and Goyle?” Ginny wondered, pushing his blankets aside and lifting Draco’s legs onto the bed for him. “Or is there someone even those two thugs fear?”
Draco didn’t answer as he curled into a ball in the bed. Ginny noticed he was shaking. “Malfoy?”
“You should go,” he ground out between clenched teeth.
Ginny waved her wand over the potions on the nightstand next to his bed, to reveal what each was, and then lifted a small yellow bottle. “Here, take this one, it will help with the pain,” she told Draco, rolling him over gently and holding the bottle to his mouth. He let her tip it down his throat and relaxed almost immediately.
“Why did you help me this time?” Draco questioned, rolling back over on his side, so he wouldn't see the pitying look on her face.
“I don’t know. I guess I’m feeling more myself now.” She pulled the blankets up over him. “Where are the robes?”
“Bottom drawer,” he mumbled, closing his eyes.
Ginny pulled on the lower drawer, but it was locked. She tapped each of the corners with her wand and the drawer sprung open, revealing robes and a uniform folded neatly inside. Ginny took out the robes and held the silky material against her cheek. “These are beautiful,” she murmured without thinking.
“Of course they are, I can’t be seen in the rags you wear,” Draco muttered, not even bothering to open his eyes to insult her. “Mind you don’t muss them.”
“I’ll be sure to take extra-special care of them,” drawled Ginny with a mischievous grin.
Seeing Draco wasn’t paying her any mind, she unfastened the blanket. Shivering from the sudden cold, Ginny slipped on his sweater, which came almost to her knees, and followed that with a pair of socks she found in the drawer. Then she pulled on the robes, her hand lingering on the Slytherin patch on the chest. She had a flash of memory of Tom’s ghostly form pulling her close and her face scratching against the patch on his robes.
“You can’t keep my clothes too long,” Draco called sleepily, interrupting her thoughts. “I have to get out of here myself.”
Ginny shook her head, but she couldn’t shake away her memories of Tom. “You’re not going anywhere,” she murmured.
Something in her voice caught Draco’s attention and he rolled over. “What’s wr…” He stopped short as he noticed something he hadn’t spotted when he’d first seen her without the blanket. “What’s happened to your legs?”
“Nothing.” She tapped her legs with her wand and the welts and bruises that ran up the length of both of them faded away.
“If they were nothing you wouldn’t be hiding them,” Draco accused.
“It’s not the smoothest trip down to the Chamber of Secrets, especially in a skirt,” Ginny snapped. “Mum would go spare if she saw, so I keep the glamour on.”
“Couldn’t Pomprey…”
“I don’t want them fixed.” She spun on her heel and started out of the room.
“Being a Slytherin suits you, Weasley,” Draco called after her. “Those robes go much better with your hair – and your personality.”
Ginny turned her head to stick her tongue out at him, and then stomped out of the room, Draco’s laughter carrying after her.
************************
Draco was sound asleep 15 minutes later when Mrs. Weasley came flying over to his bed. “Where is my daughter?!” she screeched, grabbing a fistful of Draco’s pajama top and yanking him toward her.
Draco moaned in pain. “Stop.”
Madame Pomfrey pulled Mrs. Weasley away, and Draco fell back onto the bed with a whimper. “Molly, stop!” the matron ordered. “You’re going to kill the boy.”
“I will if he doesn’t tell me what he’s done with Ginny,” Mrs. Weasley vowed, trying to get at Draco again but being held back by Madame Pomfrey.
“I was sleeping!” Draco protested, shifting on the bed as far away from Mrs. Weasley as he could get. He slid his wand out from under his blanket.
“She was unconscious, she couldn’t have left here on her own!” Mrs. Weasley ranted. “What have you done with her?”
“Molly, he can’t even stand up on his own, he couldn’t have carried your daughter off somewhere,” Madame Pomfrey scolded. “She must have recovered surprisingly fast from the stunning spell and run off.”
“Maybe he’s the one who’s recovered quickly,” Mrs. Weasley accused, shaking a finger at Draco. “He got his strength back and took my Ginny somewhere to finish the job his father started!”
“My father?” questioned Draco sharply. “He didn’t do…”
“Check his wand, see what kind of spell he put on her!” Mrs. Weasley demanded, trying to get to the wand.
“I didn’t do anything to her!” Draco insisted. “She woke me up and insisted I give her my robes, and then she ran off.”
“See, Molly, she left of her own free will.”
“Where did she go?” Mrs. Weasley demanded to know.
“No clue. And to be honest, I don’t care,” admitted Draco with a smirk. “I was just happy to finally have some peace and quiet in here, at least until you came along squawking like a banshee.”
“Watch your mouth, young man,” Madame Pomfrey scolded.
“Bugger off, both of you,” Draco muttered, rolling over so he was turned away from both of them. “I’m going back to sleep.”
“I have some potions for you to take first,” Madame Pomfrey informed him. “Molly, why don’t you go check Gryffindor tower, I’m sure that’s where the girl went, so she could be with her friends.”
“You stay here,” Mrs. Weasley ordered Draco. “I’ll be back for you if I don’t find her.”
She stalked off as Draco muttered, “Stupid cow.”
“That’s quite enough, Mr. Malfoy,” said Madame Pomfrey sternly. “The poor woman is just worried about her daughter.”
“That doesn’t give her reason to hurt me,” pouted Draco.
“I’ll give you a potion for pain, you’ll be fine.”
“Why did she say I wanted to finish the job my father started?” Draco wondered. “What did he do?”
“I have no idea what that was about,” Madame Pomfrey said distractedly, looking over the potions on the table next to him. “I see you’ve already helped yourself to something for pain. So go back to sleep now, and don’t worry about what that poor woman said, it was her anger speaking I’m sure.”
“May I have a sleeping potion, so that harpie can’t wake me up again?” asked Draco as she turned to go.
“Please, Mr. Malfoy, do have some respect!”
“No. She has none for me,” Draco complained.
“I can hardly blame her, the way you treated her,” Madame Pomfrey scolded. “Are you sure you don’t know anything about where her daughter might have gone?”
“No ma’am,” drawled Draco. “I don’t make it a habit to associate with Weasleys, so I saw no reason to ask.”
“Very well, then,” said Madame Pomfrey resignedly. She lifted two bottles off the tray of potions on the nightstand. “Drink these two down, and then you may sleep.”
Draco dutifully took the potions. Madame Pomfrey put the empty bottles back onto the tray, which she carried off to her office. Draco shifted in bed, trying to find a comfortable position, but each move only seemed to make things worse. With a sigh, he gave up and lay as still as he could. “I hope you stay gone, Weasley. I’d hate to think I went through all this for nothing.”
*******************
Ginny flew down the hallway of the dungeon, occasionally sneaking furtive glances behind her to make sure she wasn’t being followed. She nearly tripped over the too-long robes as she turned a corner sharply, and she had to stop to steady herself against the stone wall. She pressed a flushed cheek to the cool rock for a moment and heard someone faintly calling her name. Whipping around, though, she saw no one in the corridor as she turned in a circle, her wand at the ready. The voice called to Ginny again, and this time she recognized it. She took off running again, turning another sharp corner and seemingly hitting a dead end. But when Ginny tapped one of the stones on the wall and muttered “Patefacio,” a door appeared and opened inward.
Ginny stepped into the darkened room, flicked her wand in the direction of a torch on the wall to light it and glanced around in the dim light it provided. All appeared to be in order, the plush green sofas sitting quietly unoccupied and hundreds and hundreds of books bursting the seams of the bookshelves that covered three of the walls. Turning to the fourth wall, though, Ginny didn’t seem surprised to see a tall, dark figure watching her closely from behind an enormous oak desk covered with carvings of snakes.
“Hello, Tom.”
“There’s my beautiful Ginevra,” he purred. “What took you so long to come back to me?”
“I’m not coming back to you,” Ginny declared. “You’re not really here. Harry destroyed the diary and you along with it.”
“Did you really think you could get rid of me so easily?” Tom murmured. “Haven’t you heard me calling to you?”
“Those were dreams. And once I get rid of the dreams, I’ll be rid of you,” Ginny said coldly.
“And I thought you were no longer the naïve little fool I first talked to all those months ago,” taunted Tom.
“I’m not,” Ginny insisted. “I will be rid of you.”
Tom laughed, a cruel high laugh that made Ginny shudder. “If you wanted rid of me so badly, why did you come to the one place you knew you would find me?”
“Because I…I…I had to see for myself that you were really gone,” stammered Ginny.
Tom laughed his cruel laugh again. “Do I look like I’m gone?"
"This isn't real," Ginny declared. "I don't know how you're doing it, making me hear you, making me see you, but you're not real. You're gone."
"I put too much of myself into you to ever leave you, my dear,” Tom declared.
“No,” protested Ginny feebly.
“You still feel it, don’t you? You can feel the power inside of you, my power,” Tom taunted her. Ginny shook her head in protest, but Tom continued on. “I can’t expect you to handle that alone. Just look at you! You need me to give you direction, so you can make the most of the gifts you’ve been given.”
“I don’t want your gifts!” Ginny spat.
“It’s too late to refuse them,” Tom proclaimed. “And why would you want to? You’re nothing without me.”
“I’d rather be nothing than be the person you would have me be,” Ginny declared.
“Would you really?” questioned Tom, his gaze studying her from head to toe, lingering on her exposed legs. Ginny twitched the robes shut to hide them, and Tom grinned like a hungry cat. “You wear my house colors well, dear Ginevra, like the Slytherin you were meant to be.”
“A Slytherin boy was the only one around when I needed clothes, so I took what I could get,” Ginny snapped. “Don’t go reading anything into it.”
“Sweet little Ginny, who was such a timid mouse she couldn’t even squeak in Harry Potter’s direction, is now stripping the clothes off Slytherin boys?” questioned Tom with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.
“Hardly,” Ginny scoffed. “My family thinks I’m nutters, thanks to you, so they’ve had me locked up in the hospital wing. And there’s a Slytherin passed out next to me, so when I finally managed to get rid of my mum I stole his stuff and ran off.”
Tom laughed, but this time it was lighter and full of delight. “That’s my girl.”
Ginny’s lips pursed in distaste. “I told you, I’m not anymore.” She leaned across the desk, so that she was eye-to-eye with Tom. “What do I need to do to be rid of you?”
Tom leaned back in his chair and studied Ginny as he seemingly pondered the question. Slowly, a malicious smile crept across his face, and he moved in closer to Ginny again. “You were supposed to die for me, Ginevra,” he murmured in her ear. “And that’s the only way you’ll ever be truly rid of me.”
Friends in Low Places
By Nola Ryan
The Great Escape
“Mum, there is nothing wrong with me!” Ginny proclaimed, yanking her arm free as her mother tried to maneuver her away from the window, where Ginny was watching the brilliant colors of the sunrise come to life.
“You need to stay in bed, you’re still not sleeping properly,” Mrs. Weasley insisted, dragging Ginny back to her bed.
“The stupid dreams will stop once I’m back in my own bed with my friends around me. It’s being stuck in here that’s getting to me,” Ginny complained, shaking her mother off again. She jerked the blankets off her bed and then checked under it, opened the drawers of her nightstand and then banged them shut in frustration. “Where are my clothes?”
“The school house elves are still trying to all the dirt and other…things…out of your robes and uniform,” Mrs. Weasley admitted hesitantly. “Hermione only brought bedclothes by for you, we didn’t think you’d need anything else for a few days yet.”
“You were wrong.” Ginny ripped off the nightdress she was wearing. “Get me something to wear!” she bellowed, stamping her foot.
Mrs. Weasley quickly grabbed her by the shoulders. “You will not speak to your mother like that, young lady.”
Ginny shoved her mother away. “I’ll leave here in my knickers if you don’t find me something to put on right now!” she threatened.
There was a snicker from the bed next to hers. Ginny tore aside the curtain. “What’s so bloody funny?” she screeched at Draco.
Draco said nothing, unable to do anything but gape at the sight of a raging Ginny, clad only in her knickers, standing before him.
“Ginevra!” screamed Mrs. Weasley, grabbing a blanket and wrapping it around Ginny as she pulled the girl back to her bed. “This is why you are not leaving here yet. You are not yourself.”
“I’m NEVER going to be the Ginny I used to be! She’s lying cold and dead in the Chamber of Secrets!” Ginny ranted, trying unsuccessfully to wrestle her way out of her mother’s vice-like grip. “If you can’t accept that, accept me, then leave me the hell alone!”
Instead Mrs. Weasley clutched Ginny tightly to her. “Stop this, Ginny, stop this. You don’t know what you’re saying. You will be able to be the same little girl you were, just as soon as you forget all the bad things that happened and go on with your life.”
“Forget?” Ginny laughed, a cold, bitter sound that made Mrs. Weasley shudder and pull away, trying to look her daughter in the eye. Ginny took advantage of her mother’s loosened grip to yank herself free. “You’re an idiot,” she spat. “It’s too late to protect me now. The damage is already done. And if you think I’ll ever be able to forget what happened…” She let the sentence trail off, pulling the blanket tightly around her against the shiver that ran through her whenever visions of the Chamber invaded.
“Ginny …” Mrs. Weasley took a step toward her, but Ginny dodged her mother’s attempt to take her in her arms again.
“Your efforts to comfort me are tiresome.” She started for the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Mrs. Weasley called desperately.
“Away from you,” Ginny proclaimed without stopping.
“No you are not!” Mrs. Weasley declared, pulling out her wand. “Stupify!”
Ginny fell to the floor like a stone. Mrs. Weasley covered her mouth with her hand, horrified by what she’d done.
The commotion had brought Madame Pomfrey running, still dressed in her nightclothes. “Molly, what…” She stopped short as she spotted Ginny on the ground, out cold underneath the blanket.
“She tried to leave. I couldn’t let her, not in the state she was in, so I…I…I stopped her,” Mrs. Weasley confessed tearfully, sinking onto Ginny’s bed.
Madame Pomfrey put a comforting hand on Mrs. Weasley’s shoulder. “You’re tired, you weren’t thinking clearly,” the matron reassured her. “Let’s get her back into bed.”
She flicked her wand at Ginny. “Wingardium Leviosa.” Ginny’s limp form floated over to the bed at the direction of Madame Pomfrey’s wand. Mrs. Weasley leapt up to make room for her. “Why don’t we let her sleep that off while I get you some tea?” Pomfrey suggested.
Mrs. Weasley shook her head, but Madame Pomfrey took her gently by the arm. “You need time away from her, Molly. It’s been a difficult two days. Come have a cuppa and let yourself calm down. Your daughter won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.”
Mrs. Weasley let the matron lead her into her office. Draco waited until Madame Pomfrey had shut the door behind them and then pushed himself into a sitting position, wincing at the effort.
“Weasley,” he called.
Ginny didn’t move. Draco slid his wand out from under his blanket and pointed it at her. “Enervate,” he muttered. A red light came out of his wand but faded before reaching Ginny. Draco sighed. “Bloody brilliant. Can’t even do a simple spell from a few feet away.”
He struggled to swing his legs over the side of the bed, panting heavily when he finally managed to do so. By the time he was able to get to his feet, after several failed attempts had sent him crashing back down onto the bed, his silky green pajamas were clinging tightly to his sweat-drenched back and chest.
“What the hell am I doing?” he muttered, swaying as he took a shaky step toward Ginny’s bed. He grabbed on to a rolling table next to his bed for support, sending the glass of water Madame Pomfrey had put on there for him crashing to the ground. Draco looked anxiously toward Madame Pomfrey’s office, but she must not have heard the noise, as her door remained closed.
Draco leaned heavily on the table, which sagged under his weight, and used it as support as he made his way over to Ginny’s bed. He sank into the chair next to her with a sigh of relief, pushing the table away. Breathless from the effort of those few short steps, Draco closed his eyes and tried to slow down his hammering heart. He listened anxiously for sounds of Madame Pomfrey’s return, but her door remained closed.
When he was finally able to breathe normally again, Draco lifted his wand. “Enervate,” he said, touching it to Ginny’s outstretched arm, the only part of her he could reach without too much effort.
This time Ginny stirred and soon her eyes flickered open. She looked around frantically until her gaze settled on Draco.
“Malfoy?”
“Shh, they’ll hear you,” he whispered, putting a finger to his lips.
Ginny sat up, looking around in confusion. “Who?”
“Your mum and Pomfrey,” he told her. “You don’t want to get stunned again, do you?”
“So that’s why my head hurts,” Ginny mumbled, making circles on her temple with her fingers. Then it hit her what he’d said. “Wait, they stunned me?
Draco nodded. “Your mum wanted to stop you leaving.”
“My mum?” Ginny squeaked in horror.
“She was beyond spare. Pomfrey had to drag her off to keep her away from you,” related Draco, eyes shining with amusement. “Your mum is almost as batty as you are, you know. I wouldn’t be surprised if Pomfrey’s sneaking a Calming Draft into her tea right this minute. So now would be the perfect time to get on with your going.”
Ginny ignored his insults as she eyed him carefully. “Did you get out of bed just to revive me?” Ginny wondered.
Draco waved a hand, trying to be nonchalant. “I needed the exercise, I have to build my strength back up.”
“Why would you help me?”
“It wasn’t right for her to stun you when your back was turned,” said Draco with a dark look. “Not right at all.”
“Since when does a Malfoy care about what’s right?” Ginny taunted.
Draco’s cheeks flushed and he lowered his eyes as he scrambled to find a better excuse for his actions. “Okay, so I really wanted to see the trouble it would cause when they came back and found you gone,” he finally blurted out.
She laughed. “That’s more like it. I wouldn’t mind being a fly on the wall for that one myself. That’ll teach Mum for stunning me.”
Draco didn’t answer as he rested his head against the back of the chair, closing his eyes. Ginny couldn’t help but notice his deathly pale color, the sweat that mussed his normally-perfect hair and the way his white knuckles were clutching the arms of the chair. “Are you supposed to be out of bed?”
“I’m beginning to realize it was a very bad idea,” Draco murmured, still not opening his eyes.
“If you pass out now you’ll miss all the trouble that’s about to happen,” Ginny reminded him. “And my mum will know you helped me get out of here and kill you for that kindness.”
“It’s not kindness,” Draco insisted. He opened his eyes and tried to push himself up but collapsed back into the chair. “Would you help me?” he panted, trying to catch his breath.
“Why should I help you stay out of trouble?”
“I have robes,” Draco offered.
“Everyone here does, they’re part of the uniform,” said Ginny with a smirk.
“I have robes here, you spotty bint,” Draco sniped. “And while you fill out those knickers surprisingly well for a first year…” He smirked at the furious blush that crept into Ginny’s cheeks. “I don’t think you want to be showing them off to everyone you’ll run into on your way back to your dorm. So I will lend you the robes in return for helping me back to my bed.”
“I could just take them, you’re in no condition to stop me,” Ginny warned him, getting up and pulling the blanket tight around her.
“I can still do a spell or two,” Draco let her know. “And if I give a shout, your mum will come running.”
“And you’ll be caught.”
“But so will you, and I’m not the one your mum will screech at first,” Draco reminded her.
Ginny scowled. “Let’s get on with it then, so I can get out of here.”
She grabbed her wand from her nightstand and did a fastening charm on the blanket to keep it around her. Draco chuckled. “Little late for that, isn’t it?”
“Keep your mouth shut and get up out of that chair,” Ginny snarled.
Draco smirked at her annoyance, but the look quickly vanished as he struggled to push himself out of the chair. He finally managed to get to his feet, but Ginny had to grab him under the arms to stop him from toppling over. He was almost a foot taller than her, and she stumbled a bit under his bulk as he fell forward heavily. Recovering surprisingly fast, she gently pushed him upright.
“You’re strong for a little thing,” Draco mumbled.
“Having six brothers will do that to a girl,” Ginny quipped. She took a step back and slid her hands down his arms, so she was now grasping him only by his elbows. “Ready to walk?”
Although still panting from exertion, Draco nodded and shook off her grasp. He closed his eyes in concentration and took a shaky step but stumbled again.
“Sorry,” he muttered as Ginny caught him.
“Yes you are,” Ginny taunted. “Come on, Malfoy, you can do this. Focus.”
“Easy for you to say,” Draco growled through gritted teeth, taking another shaky step, this time leaning heavily on Ginny. “I’d like to see you walk around a day after nearly bleeding to death.”
“Who was it nearly killed you?” Ginny questioned, letting Draco stop to try and catch his breath.
“None of…your…business,” he huffed.
“You weren’t hexed, you have too many bruises for that,” Ginny noted, pulling aside the collar of his pajama shirt.
“Weasley, quit trying to look at my chest,” Draco scolded, pulling away from her with a wince and grabbing the rolling table for support instead.
“You looked at mine.”
Draco took one final step and sank onto his bed in relief. “It would have been rude not to when you were flashing it so,” he told her, trying to lift his legs onto the bed but finding he didn’t have the strength.
“How did whoever hurt you get past Crabbe and Goyle?” Ginny wondered, pushing his blankets aside and lifting Draco’s legs onto the bed for him. “Or is there someone even those two thugs fear?”
Draco didn’t answer as he curled into a ball in the bed. Ginny noticed he was shaking. “Malfoy?”
“You should go,” he ground out between clenched teeth.
Ginny waved her wand over the potions on the nightstand next to his bed, to reveal what each was, and then lifted a small yellow bottle. “Here, take this one, it will help with the pain,” she told Draco, rolling him over gently and holding the bottle to his mouth. He let her tip it down his throat and relaxed almost immediately.
“Why did you help me this time?” Draco questioned, rolling back over on his side, so he wouldn't see the pitying look on her face.
“I don’t know. I guess I’m feeling more myself now.” She pulled the blankets up over him. “Where are the robes?”
“Bottom drawer,” he mumbled, closing his eyes.
Ginny pulled on the lower drawer, but it was locked. She tapped each of the corners with her wand and the drawer sprung open, revealing robes and a uniform folded neatly inside. Ginny took out the robes and held the silky material against her cheek. “These are beautiful,” she murmured without thinking.
“Of course they are, I can’t be seen in the rags you wear,” Draco muttered, not even bothering to open his eyes to insult her. “Mind you don’t muss them.”
“I’ll be sure to take extra-special care of them,” drawled Ginny with a mischievous grin.
Seeing Draco wasn’t paying her any mind, she unfastened the blanket. Shivering from the sudden cold, Ginny slipped on his sweater, which came almost to her knees, and followed that with a pair of socks she found in the drawer. Then she pulled on the robes, her hand lingering on the Slytherin patch on the chest. She had a flash of memory of Tom’s ghostly form pulling her close and her face scratching against the patch on his robes.
“You can’t keep my clothes too long,” Draco called sleepily, interrupting her thoughts. “I have to get out of here myself.”
Ginny shook her head, but she couldn’t shake away her memories of Tom. “You’re not going anywhere,” she murmured.
Something in her voice caught Draco’s attention and he rolled over. “What’s wr…” He stopped short as he noticed something he hadn’t spotted when he’d first seen her without the blanket. “What’s happened to your legs?”
“Nothing.” She tapped her legs with her wand and the welts and bruises that ran up the length of both of them faded away.
“If they were nothing you wouldn’t be hiding them,” Draco accused.
“It’s not the smoothest trip down to the Chamber of Secrets, especially in a skirt,” Ginny snapped. “Mum would go spare if she saw, so I keep the glamour on.”
“Couldn’t Pomprey…”
“I don’t want them fixed.” She spun on her heel and started out of the room.
“Being a Slytherin suits you, Weasley,” Draco called after her. “Those robes go much better with your hair – and your personality.”
Ginny turned her head to stick her tongue out at him, and then stomped out of the room, Draco’s laughter carrying after her.
************************
Draco was sound asleep 15 minutes later when Mrs. Weasley came flying over to his bed. “Where is my daughter?!” she screeched, grabbing a fistful of Draco’s pajama top and yanking him toward her.
Draco moaned in pain. “Stop.”
Madame Pomfrey pulled Mrs. Weasley away, and Draco fell back onto the bed with a whimper. “Molly, stop!” the matron ordered. “You’re going to kill the boy.”
“I will if he doesn’t tell me what he’s done with Ginny,” Mrs. Weasley vowed, trying to get at Draco again but being held back by Madame Pomfrey.
“I was sleeping!” Draco protested, shifting on the bed as far away from Mrs. Weasley as he could get. He slid his wand out from under his blanket.
“She was unconscious, she couldn’t have left here on her own!” Mrs. Weasley ranted. “What have you done with her?”
“Molly, he can’t even stand up on his own, he couldn’t have carried your daughter off somewhere,” Madame Pomfrey scolded. “She must have recovered surprisingly fast from the stunning spell and run off.”
“Maybe he’s the one who’s recovered quickly,” Mrs. Weasley accused, shaking a finger at Draco. “He got his strength back and took my Ginny somewhere to finish the job his father started!”
“My father?” questioned Draco sharply. “He didn’t do…”
“Check his wand, see what kind of spell he put on her!” Mrs. Weasley demanded, trying to get to the wand.
“I didn’t do anything to her!” Draco insisted. “She woke me up and insisted I give her my robes, and then she ran off.”
“See, Molly, she left of her own free will.”
“Where did she go?” Mrs. Weasley demanded to know.
“No clue. And to be honest, I don’t care,” admitted Draco with a smirk. “I was just happy to finally have some peace and quiet in here, at least until you came along squawking like a banshee.”
“Watch your mouth, young man,” Madame Pomfrey scolded.
“Bugger off, both of you,” Draco muttered, rolling over so he was turned away from both of them. “I’m going back to sleep.”
“I have some potions for you to take first,” Madame Pomfrey informed him. “Molly, why don’t you go check Gryffindor tower, I’m sure that’s where the girl went, so she could be with her friends.”
“You stay here,” Mrs. Weasley ordered Draco. “I’ll be back for you if I don’t find her.”
She stalked off as Draco muttered, “Stupid cow.”
“That’s quite enough, Mr. Malfoy,” said Madame Pomfrey sternly. “The poor woman is just worried about her daughter.”
“That doesn’t give her reason to hurt me,” pouted Draco.
“I’ll give you a potion for pain, you’ll be fine.”
“Why did she say I wanted to finish the job my father started?” Draco wondered. “What did he do?”
“I have no idea what that was about,” Madame Pomfrey said distractedly, looking over the potions on the table next to him. “I see you’ve already helped yourself to something for pain. So go back to sleep now, and don’t worry about what that poor woman said, it was her anger speaking I’m sure.”
“May I have a sleeping potion, so that harpie can’t wake me up again?” asked Draco as she turned to go.
“Please, Mr. Malfoy, do have some respect!”
“No. She has none for me,” Draco complained.
“I can hardly blame her, the way you treated her,” Madame Pomfrey scolded. “Are you sure you don’t know anything about where her daughter might have gone?”
“No ma’am,” drawled Draco. “I don’t make it a habit to associate with Weasleys, so I saw no reason to ask.”
“Very well, then,” said Madame Pomfrey resignedly. She lifted two bottles off the tray of potions on the nightstand. “Drink these two down, and then you may sleep.”
Draco dutifully took the potions. Madame Pomfrey put the empty bottles back onto the tray, which she carried off to her office. Draco shifted in bed, trying to find a comfortable position, but each move only seemed to make things worse. With a sigh, he gave up and lay as still as he could. “I hope you stay gone, Weasley. I’d hate to think I went through all this for nothing.”
*******************
Ginny flew down the hallway of the dungeon, occasionally sneaking furtive glances behind her to make sure she wasn’t being followed. She nearly tripped over the too-long robes as she turned a corner sharply, and she had to stop to steady herself against the stone wall. She pressed a flushed cheek to the cool rock for a moment and heard someone faintly calling her name. Whipping around, though, she saw no one in the corridor as she turned in a circle, her wand at the ready. The voice called to Ginny again, and this time she recognized it. She took off running again, turning another sharp corner and seemingly hitting a dead end. But when Ginny tapped one of the stones on the wall and muttered “Patefacio,” a door appeared and opened inward.
Ginny stepped into the darkened room, flicked her wand in the direction of a torch on the wall to light it and glanced around in the dim light it provided. All appeared to be in order, the plush green sofas sitting quietly unoccupied and hundreds and hundreds of books bursting the seams of the bookshelves that covered three of the walls. Turning to the fourth wall, though, Ginny didn’t seem surprised to see a tall, dark figure watching her closely from behind an enormous oak desk covered with carvings of snakes.
“Hello, Tom.”
“There’s my beautiful Ginevra,” he purred. “What took you so long to come back to me?”
“I’m not coming back to you,” Ginny declared. “You’re not really here. Harry destroyed the diary and you along with it.”
“Did you really think you could get rid of me so easily?” Tom murmured. “Haven’t you heard me calling to you?”
“Those were dreams. And once I get rid of the dreams, I’ll be rid of you,” Ginny said coldly.
“And I thought you were no longer the naïve little fool I first talked to all those months ago,” taunted Tom.
“I’m not,” Ginny insisted. “I will be rid of you.”
Tom laughed, a cruel high laugh that made Ginny shudder. “If you wanted rid of me so badly, why did you come to the one place you knew you would find me?”
“Because I…I…I had to see for myself that you were really gone,” stammered Ginny.
Tom laughed his cruel laugh again. “Do I look like I’m gone?"
"This isn't real," Ginny declared. "I don't know how you're doing it, making me hear you, making me see you, but you're not real. You're gone."
"I put too much of myself into you to ever leave you, my dear,” Tom declared.
“No,” protested Ginny feebly.
“You still feel it, don’t you? You can feel the power inside of you, my power,” Tom taunted her. Ginny shook her head in protest, but Tom continued on. “I can’t expect you to handle that alone. Just look at you! You need me to give you direction, so you can make the most of the gifts you’ve been given.”
“I don’t want your gifts!” Ginny spat.
“It’s too late to refuse them,” Tom proclaimed. “And why would you want to? You’re nothing without me.”
“I’d rather be nothing than be the person you would have me be,” Ginny declared.
“Would you really?” questioned Tom, his gaze studying her from head to toe, lingering on her exposed legs. Ginny twitched the robes shut to hide them, and Tom grinned like a hungry cat. “You wear my house colors well, dear Ginevra, like the Slytherin you were meant to be.”
“A Slytherin boy was the only one around when I needed clothes, so I took what I could get,” Ginny snapped. “Don’t go reading anything into it.”
“Sweet little Ginny, who was such a timid mouse she couldn’t even squeak in Harry Potter’s direction, is now stripping the clothes off Slytherin boys?” questioned Tom with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.
“Hardly,” Ginny scoffed. “My family thinks I’m nutters, thanks to you, so they’ve had me locked up in the hospital wing. And there’s a Slytherin passed out next to me, so when I finally managed to get rid of my mum I stole his stuff and ran off.”
Tom laughed, but this time it was lighter and full of delight. “That’s my girl.”
Ginny’s lips pursed in distaste. “I told you, I’m not anymore.” She leaned across the desk, so that she was eye-to-eye with Tom. “What do I need to do to be rid of you?”
Tom leaned back in his chair and studied Ginny as he seemingly pondered the question. Slowly, a malicious smile crept across his face, and he moved in closer to Ginny again. “You were supposed to die for me, Ginevra,” he murmured in her ear. “And that’s the only way you’ll ever be truly rid of me.”
Leave a Review