“Where have you been?” Mummy asks frantically as I slink back into the bookstore.
“Just walking around.”
“Never leave my sight again! You just took twenty years off of my life!”
I don't really know what that's supposed to mean, so I just give her an apologetic look and she sighs, shaking her head. I take her hand and don’t leave her side the rest of the trip.
“Hello Rose! Boy, don’t you look pretty!”
“What an adorable dress, Rose!”
“Rose, you’re growing up so fast!”
I just smile in response to each person who pulls me aside to tell me how lovely I am, or how big I’m getting. It’s quite annoying, actually. Mummy and I have just arrived at Ron and Hermione’s house for Harry’s surprise party. Hermione is standing near the door, trying to keep everything neat and everyone quiet. Uncle Ron is out with Harry. Old friends of Harry’s and the Weasley family are mostly the only people here, and I don't recognize anyone, it's awful.
Someone looks out the window and calls, “They’re coming, see? There, in the distance!”
Mummy and Hermione shuffle everyone into their hiding positions. I manage to sneak away, up the stairs of the house and out of the main entrance area. It is a warm enough day as it is, and all the older people crowding around me makes it hard to breath. But upstairs it is cooler and less crowded and I like it better.
Downstairs I hear the door open and people calling out, “Surprise!” And Harry only pretends to be surprised, but I bet he fooled everyone.
I decide I don't want to be in the party and I'm going to play hide and seek with myself. I decide to pick a room to hide in. I find one, but the door is locked. I find another room, and it is just a plain bedroom, but the door is wide open and can see downstairs so people will see me and that's no good, so I find another room. The door is closed, so I guess that no one plans to come here and it’s way out of view from the stairs. I push open the door and come in.
At first I think it’s almost empty except for some boxes and old school things lying about. And then I see a big, stone Pensieve in the middle of the room. It’s so pretty and unlike anything I’ve seen before. Well, yes, I’ve seen a Pensieve before, in the books I read (well, look at pictures of, and Mummy reads to me… sometimes I read, sometimes it is too hard for me!), but never a real one. I guess Mummy has one somewhere, but I’ve never seen it, so this is something completely new to me, and I walk over, almost hypnotised. Who does it belong to? I wonder...
Well, I can’t help it that I get curious real easy! I hop onto my tip-toes, poke my head over the side, and lean in, and the world around me spins, and all of a sudden I’m not in Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione’s house anymore… uh oh!
It’s my house! But the old wallpaper is still up, and a lot of our stuff isn’t there. Grandpa and Grandma Weasley with lots more hair than they have now are there, and my uncles Fred, George, and Ron, and Hermione are, too. They are all standing around Mummy holding a baby in her arms – me!
Enter the Pensieve…
“Ginny, I cannot believe you! Going around having – doing – and you won’t even tell us who!” said Ron, his face flushed with anger.
“I can’t tell you who,” said Ginny with agitation.
“Sure you can, Gin. We won’t hold it against you,” Harry said, trying to convince her. Ginny looked away, moving her glance down to the baby in her arms.
“Ginevra Weasley, you will tell me at once who the father of your baby is,” said Mr. Weasley in a tone very unlike Mr. Weasley – very demanding, cruel, and it caused his daughter to look at him as if she’d never met him before.
“She can’t,” said Fred, apparently amused by all this.
“It’s a secret,” added George, just as amused.
“Just like the boys were at school--”
“Dean Thomas, for example--”
“Oh, shut up, you two. Will you ever grow up?” snapped Hermione. (If one was listening very closely, they might have heard the twins mutter, “Nope.”) She turned to the rest of the family, letting out a deep sigh, “I want to know just as much as you do. But if Ginny’s not telling us, it’s for a reason.”
They all turned expectantly to Ginny.
“Is he a follower of You-Know-Who?” asked Mrs. Weasley in a harsh voice.
“No!” said Ginny, shaking her head, refusing to meet any of their eyes. “He’s completely good, I know it! He’s just – well, kind of in some trouble right now. Look, when the time is right, you’ll know who he is. I promise.”
There was silence for a moment.
“Well,” said Ron, breaking the awkward silence, “What’s her name? She’s so adorable.”
“Her name is--” Ginny froze, and the entire room looked expectantly at her. She turned the silence into a cough, “Oh, excuse me. Rose. Her name is Rose.”
“Rose,” awed Ron. He eyed the baby, “I like her eyes – I know I’ve seen them somewhere…”
Ginny smiled slightly. Ron took the baby, admiring his niece with a small smile on his face.
“Are they her father’s eyes?”
Ginny’s gaze softened considerably, looking down lovingly at her baby.
“Wow, Gin. You really loved him, then?”
Ginny just took the baby from Ron’s arms, pulling young Rose into a tight embrace.
Mrs. Weasley suddenly let out a sob, “Oh, and he’s probably a Death Eater, I just wish I could know who-”
“He’s not a Death Eater!” Ginny said automatically in defense.
“Then why can’t we know who he is?” begged Ron, and the yelling began. The whole room began protesting. The twins were laughing rather obnoxiously, imitating each family, replicating the entire fight as it went on. Ron was begging Ginny for a name, who was ignoring him completely. Mr. Weasley was trying to calm down Mrs. Weasley, who was hyperventilating, and Hermione was yelling at Ron that it was none of his business. Suddenly Mrs. Weasley ran out of the room, followed by Mr. Weasley, but no one seemed to notice, in their own frenzies.
“Quiet!” yelled Hermione.
Silence.
“Mrs. Weasley just ran out of the room,” Hermione added quietly, pointing to the door.
“We better go make sure she’s alright,” said the twins, following the way their parents had just gone.
Hermione glared at Ron.
Ron said, “I should go with them.”
Ron exited as well, leaving Hermione and Ginny alone. Ginny walked away, to the couch, sitting down, looking down at her baby lovingly.
Hermione followed her. “Oh, Ginny – it’s really their business, too, they just want to know…”
Ginny didn’t answer.
Hermione sat down close to Ginny, taking the younger girl in her arms, and speaking in a tone so quiet that only their viewer -- the seven-year-old Cissa -- and Ginny could hear. She spoke in a very soft, comforting tone, and then it changed. It was almost bitter, as if it pained her to admit what she was about to say, “It’s Malfoy?” Though, it seemed as if it was more a statement than a question.
Not even asking how Hermione knew, Ginny suddenly let out a sob, burying her head in Hermione’s shoulders.
“Have you tried to find him?” she added, quietly, the bitter tone replaced with a soft, caring, and maternal whisper.
“That’s what I spend all my time doing. But he told me not to look for him, in a – a letter,” Ginny managed to choke, recollecting herself.
“I’m sure he’s safe,” Hermione said soothingly. There was a pause, and then Hermione whispered, looking at Ginny as if she couldn’t believe the younger girl, “You know he let those Death Eaters into Hogwarts in my sixth year, right? And that he almost killed Dumbledore--”
“Yes, but he didn’t mean it!”
Hermione raised an eyebrow.
“He was trying to please his father, but he realised that night that he didn’t want to be like his father at all. And we – we started talking, you should have seen him after he got away from the Death Eaters and one thing led to another, and, well.”
“Wait, after he got away from the Death Eaters?”
“They were rather angry at him for failing--”
“You’ve been hiding a secret relationship with Draco Malfoy for four years?” asked Hermione in a hissed, shocked voice.
“Well – yes, kind of… He’s not evil, not at all. He didn’t do or help in half the things he’s accused of. Someone has it in for him. I mean, at least… well, one of the things they accused him of isn’t true. At least! I know because the time in question he was with me. And the other times, he was probably with me too, I mean, the Prophet never writes the time of day these things happen in, if they did, I could tell you for sure, but he probably was with me!” Ginny said, biting her lip and looking away.
“Slow down, Gin, it’s hard to follow you,” said Hermione with an amused grin, but at Ginny’s distraught expression, the grin faded. “But – why did they think it was him, then?”
“Someone’s out to get him, I suppose. Whatever they did, this person must be accusing him. It’s an easy way out, isn’t it? Draco Malfoy, the unknown, missing, conveniently disappeared Death Eater must’ve done it.”
“And you’ve looked everywhere.”
Ginny sighed, “Everywhere. I talk to the man at Borgin and Burke’s all the time – he seems to know something, but he won’t tell me.”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but have you tried Pansy?”
“Parkinson? Why?”
“She’s his old girlfriend. She was never a Death Eater – that we know of, you have no clue how hard we’re trying to prove that she’s not on our side – but, you never know. She was so fond of him.”
“Well – no, I haven’t. But I will,” the redhead bit her lip thoughtfully, before turning a soft smile to Hermione, “Thank you, Hermione.” Ginny let a weak smile cross her features. The two girls hugged, young Narcissa in the middle, the baby’s big blue eyes looking up blankly, and then stood.
“We’ll find him. And if we don’t, maybe it was for the better. After all, you realise that if he comes out of hiding, he’ll be put in Azkaban, and you’ll be suspected of working for Voldemort, right?”
“I know,” Ginny said quietly. “But I believe we can change their opinion. When he was there – that day with the Death Eaters – he told me that he almost put down his wand. He almost turned good, right there. If the Death Eaters had come in one minute later he would’ve helped Dumbledore. He has that influence on people, Dumbledore does,” she chuckled lightly, and then added, defensively, “Harry was there with him, he saw the whole thing – he can back me up.”
“Harry doesn’t want you and him to get together, Ginny,” said Hermione with a light, nervous laugh, “But I suppose, as a friend, he would do you that favour. And for little Rose.”
“Oh – Rose is only her middle name,” admitted Ginny. “I named her Narcissa, after his mother…” Hermione’s laugh fades slightly as another voice in my ear, very different from the film-like one in the scene I’m watching, replaces what’s going on around me.
“You know, Narcissa, this is becoming a terrible habit.”
“Just walking around.”
“Never leave my sight again! You just took twenty years off of my life!”
I don't really know what that's supposed to mean, so I just give her an apologetic look and she sighs, shaking her head. I take her hand and don’t leave her side the rest of the trip.
“Hello Rose! Boy, don’t you look pretty!”
“What an adorable dress, Rose!”
“Rose, you’re growing up so fast!”
I just smile in response to each person who pulls me aside to tell me how lovely I am, or how big I’m getting. It’s quite annoying, actually. Mummy and I have just arrived at Ron and Hermione’s house for Harry’s surprise party. Hermione is standing near the door, trying to keep everything neat and everyone quiet. Uncle Ron is out with Harry. Old friends of Harry’s and the Weasley family are mostly the only people here, and I don't recognize anyone, it's awful.
Someone looks out the window and calls, “They’re coming, see? There, in the distance!”
Mummy and Hermione shuffle everyone into their hiding positions. I manage to sneak away, up the stairs of the house and out of the main entrance area. It is a warm enough day as it is, and all the older people crowding around me makes it hard to breath. But upstairs it is cooler and less crowded and I like it better.
Downstairs I hear the door open and people calling out, “Surprise!” And Harry only pretends to be surprised, but I bet he fooled everyone.
I decide I don't want to be in the party and I'm going to play hide and seek with myself. I decide to pick a room to hide in. I find one, but the door is locked. I find another room, and it is just a plain bedroom, but the door is wide open and can see downstairs so people will see me and that's no good, so I find another room. The door is closed, so I guess that no one plans to come here and it’s way out of view from the stairs. I push open the door and come in.
At first I think it’s almost empty except for some boxes and old school things lying about. And then I see a big, stone Pensieve in the middle of the room. It’s so pretty and unlike anything I’ve seen before. Well, yes, I’ve seen a Pensieve before, in the books I read (well, look at pictures of, and Mummy reads to me… sometimes I read, sometimes it is too hard for me!), but never a real one. I guess Mummy has one somewhere, but I’ve never seen it, so this is something completely new to me, and I walk over, almost hypnotised. Who does it belong to? I wonder...
Well, I can’t help it that I get curious real easy! I hop onto my tip-toes, poke my head over the side, and lean in, and the world around me spins, and all of a sudden I’m not in Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione’s house anymore… uh oh!
It’s my house! But the old wallpaper is still up, and a lot of our stuff isn’t there. Grandpa and Grandma Weasley with lots more hair than they have now are there, and my uncles Fred, George, and Ron, and Hermione are, too. They are all standing around Mummy holding a baby in her arms – me!
Enter the Pensieve…
“Ginny, I cannot believe you! Going around having – doing – and you won’t even tell us who!” said Ron, his face flushed with anger.
“I can’t tell you who,” said Ginny with agitation.
“Sure you can, Gin. We won’t hold it against you,” Harry said, trying to convince her. Ginny looked away, moving her glance down to the baby in her arms.
“Ginevra Weasley, you will tell me at once who the father of your baby is,” said Mr. Weasley in a tone very unlike Mr. Weasley – very demanding, cruel, and it caused his daughter to look at him as if she’d never met him before.
“She can’t,” said Fred, apparently amused by all this.
“It’s a secret,” added George, just as amused.
“Just like the boys were at school--”
“Dean Thomas, for example--”
“Oh, shut up, you two. Will you ever grow up?” snapped Hermione. (If one was listening very closely, they might have heard the twins mutter, “Nope.”) She turned to the rest of the family, letting out a deep sigh, “I want to know just as much as you do. But if Ginny’s not telling us, it’s for a reason.”
They all turned expectantly to Ginny.
“Is he a follower of You-Know-Who?” asked Mrs. Weasley in a harsh voice.
“No!” said Ginny, shaking her head, refusing to meet any of their eyes. “He’s completely good, I know it! He’s just – well, kind of in some trouble right now. Look, when the time is right, you’ll know who he is. I promise.”
There was silence for a moment.
“Well,” said Ron, breaking the awkward silence, “What’s her name? She’s so adorable.”
“Her name is--” Ginny froze, and the entire room looked expectantly at her. She turned the silence into a cough, “Oh, excuse me. Rose. Her name is Rose.”
“Rose,” awed Ron. He eyed the baby, “I like her eyes – I know I’ve seen them somewhere…”
Ginny smiled slightly. Ron took the baby, admiring his niece with a small smile on his face.
“Are they her father’s eyes?”
Ginny’s gaze softened considerably, looking down lovingly at her baby.
“Wow, Gin. You really loved him, then?”
Ginny just took the baby from Ron’s arms, pulling young Rose into a tight embrace.
Mrs. Weasley suddenly let out a sob, “Oh, and he’s probably a Death Eater, I just wish I could know who-”
“He’s not a Death Eater!” Ginny said automatically in defense.
“Then why can’t we know who he is?” begged Ron, and the yelling began. The whole room began protesting. The twins were laughing rather obnoxiously, imitating each family, replicating the entire fight as it went on. Ron was begging Ginny for a name, who was ignoring him completely. Mr. Weasley was trying to calm down Mrs. Weasley, who was hyperventilating, and Hermione was yelling at Ron that it was none of his business. Suddenly Mrs. Weasley ran out of the room, followed by Mr. Weasley, but no one seemed to notice, in their own frenzies.
“Quiet!” yelled Hermione.
Silence.
“Mrs. Weasley just ran out of the room,” Hermione added quietly, pointing to the door.
“We better go make sure she’s alright,” said the twins, following the way their parents had just gone.
Hermione glared at Ron.
Ron said, “I should go with them.”
Ron exited as well, leaving Hermione and Ginny alone. Ginny walked away, to the couch, sitting down, looking down at her baby lovingly.
Hermione followed her. “Oh, Ginny – it’s really their business, too, they just want to know…”
Ginny didn’t answer.
Hermione sat down close to Ginny, taking the younger girl in her arms, and speaking in a tone so quiet that only their viewer -- the seven-year-old Cissa -- and Ginny could hear. She spoke in a very soft, comforting tone, and then it changed. It was almost bitter, as if it pained her to admit what she was about to say, “It’s Malfoy?” Though, it seemed as if it was more a statement than a question.
Not even asking how Hermione knew, Ginny suddenly let out a sob, burying her head in Hermione’s shoulders.
“Have you tried to find him?” she added, quietly, the bitter tone replaced with a soft, caring, and maternal whisper.
“That’s what I spend all my time doing. But he told me not to look for him, in a – a letter,” Ginny managed to choke, recollecting herself.
“I’m sure he’s safe,” Hermione said soothingly. There was a pause, and then Hermione whispered, looking at Ginny as if she couldn’t believe the younger girl, “You know he let those Death Eaters into Hogwarts in my sixth year, right? And that he almost killed Dumbledore--”
“Yes, but he didn’t mean it!”
Hermione raised an eyebrow.
“He was trying to please his father, but he realised that night that he didn’t want to be like his father at all. And we – we started talking, you should have seen him after he got away from the Death Eaters and one thing led to another, and, well.”
“Wait, after he got away from the Death Eaters?”
“They were rather angry at him for failing--”
“You’ve been hiding a secret relationship with Draco Malfoy for four years?” asked Hermione in a hissed, shocked voice.
“Well – yes, kind of… He’s not evil, not at all. He didn’t do or help in half the things he’s accused of. Someone has it in for him. I mean, at least… well, one of the things they accused him of isn’t true. At least! I know because the time in question he was with me. And the other times, he was probably with me too, I mean, the Prophet never writes the time of day these things happen in, if they did, I could tell you for sure, but he probably was with me!” Ginny said, biting her lip and looking away.
“Slow down, Gin, it’s hard to follow you,” said Hermione with an amused grin, but at Ginny’s distraught expression, the grin faded. “But – why did they think it was him, then?”
“Someone’s out to get him, I suppose. Whatever they did, this person must be accusing him. It’s an easy way out, isn’t it? Draco Malfoy, the unknown, missing, conveniently disappeared Death Eater must’ve done it.”
“And you’ve looked everywhere.”
Ginny sighed, “Everywhere. I talk to the man at Borgin and Burke’s all the time – he seems to know something, but he won’t tell me.”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but have you tried Pansy?”
“Parkinson? Why?”
“She’s his old girlfriend. She was never a Death Eater – that we know of, you have no clue how hard we’re trying to prove that she’s not on our side – but, you never know. She was so fond of him.”
“Well – no, I haven’t. But I will,” the redhead bit her lip thoughtfully, before turning a soft smile to Hermione, “Thank you, Hermione.” Ginny let a weak smile cross her features. The two girls hugged, young Narcissa in the middle, the baby’s big blue eyes looking up blankly, and then stood.
“We’ll find him. And if we don’t, maybe it was for the better. After all, you realise that if he comes out of hiding, he’ll be put in Azkaban, and you’ll be suspected of working for Voldemort, right?”
“I know,” Ginny said quietly. “But I believe we can change their opinion. When he was there – that day with the Death Eaters – he told me that he almost put down his wand. He almost turned good, right there. If the Death Eaters had come in one minute later he would’ve helped Dumbledore. He has that influence on people, Dumbledore does,” she chuckled lightly, and then added, defensively, “Harry was there with him, he saw the whole thing – he can back me up.”
“Harry doesn’t want you and him to get together, Ginny,” said Hermione with a light, nervous laugh, “But I suppose, as a friend, he would do you that favour. And for little Rose.”
“Oh – Rose is only her middle name,” admitted Ginny. “I named her Narcissa, after his mother…” Hermione’s laugh fades slightly as another voice in my ear, very different from the film-like one in the scene I’m watching, replaces what’s going on around me.
“You know, Narcissa, this is becoming a terrible habit.”
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