Ginny couldn’t sleep much that night. She awoke early to write a letter to her mum. It took several attempts, as she wanted to be sure that it couldn’t be misinterpreted in any way.
Dear Mum,
Ron and I are doing well. We look forward to coming home for the holidays. There have been talks of a Christmas ball here. Could you send me dress robes? Give our love to Dad.
Love,
Ginny
Ginny had heard from Hermione and Ron that some of the prefects had suggested a Christmas ball to lighten everyone’s moods. There hadn’t been one at Hogwarts since Ginny could remember. There had only been the Yule Ball during her third year.
When she arrived at the Owlery, the owls were hooting loudly. She could see a beautiful eagle owl flying away from Hogwarts. Ginny found Pig sitting in-between two large barn owls. She clipped her letter to his leg.
“Take this to Mum,” she said, ruffling Pig’s feathers. He hooted appreciatively and took off. On her way out she bumped into Harry.
“Oh, Harry!” Ginny exclaimed, blushing.
“Ginny, sorry about that,” Harry said, running a hand through his messy hair. He bent over to pick up some pieces of parchment, one Ginny assumed to be a letter and another she recognized as the Marauder’s Map.
Harry noticed her watching him and quickly stuffed the parchment into a pocket in his robes.
“How’ve you-” Ginny and Harry said together. They laughed.
“I’ve been fine, and you?” Ginny asked.
“Same, you know,” he said. After an awkward pause he asked, “Listen, Ginny, you didn’t happen to see anyone else here, did you?”
Ginny shrugged, “No, I’m afraid I didn’t.” She looked at him curiously. “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah,” he said quickly. “Just, you know, with the post and all. I wanted to make sure things were safe.”
“Right,” she nodded awkwardly.
“And how’s Dean?” Harry asked, his voice breaking slightly.
“Just fine. I’m sure you’d know that, since you room with him,” she gave a quick laugh.
“Yeah. Well, I guess I’ll just…” he said, taking his letter back out.
“Of course. See you, Harry,” she said, and made her way out.
Harry had been acting awfully paranoid since they’d gotten back to Hogwarts. She’d seen him with the Map on numerous occasions. Ginny suddenly shuddered, realizing that he was capable of knowing where everyone was at any given moment. Maybe that’s why he asked how Dean was, she thought, turning red.
It was still a little too early for breakfast so Ginny decided to run a few laps around the Quidditch field. She headed into the girls’ locker room to change quickly.
As Ginny took a seat on a bench to tie the laces of her trainers, she could hear two girls enter the locker room. They were concealed behind a row of lockers so Ginny couldn’t make out who they were.
“I haven’t decided who I’m going to the ball with,” a high-pitched girl said.
“Have they decided for sure about the ball?” a second girl asked.
“I believe so. That’s what Pansy and Draco have been telling us,” the high-pitched girl said.
Slytherins, Ginny thought, rolling her eyes.
“Did you hear they had a row? They haven’t spoken in days,” laughed the second girl.
Ginny recognized the second voice belonging to Astoria Greengrass, one year below her.
“Blimey,” the other girl gave a low whistle. After a pause she added, “So does that mean Draco is on the market?” Both girls began to giggle.
Ginny felt as though she was going to be sick. She got up and darted out of the locker room before the girls could see her. Girls talked about boys in the locker room all the time. Ginny had even taken part in the conversations sometimes. But hearing the two girls giggling about Draco Malfoy made her want to hurl.
She began jogging along the perimeters of the field, taking in the early morning air in deep breaths. It wasn’t a beautiful day by a long shot, but she still appreciated the outdoors. Her classmates often teased her about “running the Muggle way”. Wizards and witches could use enchantments to place themselves in a simulation, so that they would feel as though they were running along a beach or through a valley. Ginny liked to be surrounded by things that were real. Running around an ordinary Quidditch field enabled her to clear her head whenever she was stressed out.
The field was virtually empty save for a lone figuring flying on a broom. They were weaving in and out of the goal posts.
After twenty minutes her leg began to hurt. Ginny grunted. Curse this injury! She knelt in the grass under the Ravenclaw stands to massage her leg.
It was really beginning to swell. Ginny looked around the Quidditch field helplessly. She had her wand with her, but she hadn’t the faintest idea as to what spell to cast to give herself relief. Okay, just slowly get up, and take it from there, she reassured herself.
The moment Ginny tried to pick herself up, pain seared through her leg. She collapsed back onto the ground. What am I going to do?
Suddenly she could hear the soaring sound a broom above the field, followed by flapping robes. She looked up into the sky and noticed the flier circling the field.
Should I call out for help? I don’t even know who it is.
The flier seemed to take notice of her and their broom began to descend towards her.
It wasn’t until the figure dismounted from their broom that Ginny recognized Draco Malfoy.
Ginny was incredulous. “Are you kidding me? How many times are we going to run into each other before one kills the other?”
“What on Earth are you wearing, Weasley?” Malfoy asked. He was dressed in his Quidditch uniform and Ginny couldn’t help but to catch her breath. He looked repulsively dashing with his windswept hair falling into his flushed face.
“I know I call your family dirty, but sitting in the mud isn’t exactly lady-like,” he said, standing in front of her.
“I’ve had a fall, that’s all,” she winced. “You wouldn’t happen to know a spell for this?” she asked, motioning towards her leg.
Malfoy laughed. “I’ve been trying to get you back for the hexes for a while now. I’d say this is the best opportunity, to leave you stranded here.” He looked towards the gray sky and added, “And right before it rains, too.”
Ginny rolled her eyes and sighed, “Fine, Malfoy. Go on, get lost and leave me be.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, kneeling into the grass with her. “I was only joking. As much as I loathe you, I wouldn’t leave a woman in distress.”
Ginny smirked. “So you do hate me. How I’ve longed to hear those three words come from your mouth.”
Malfoy took a hold of her foot and propped it onto his lap for closer inspection. “What happened?”
She suddenly felt very warm. “I was jogging.”
Malfoy shook his head. “I got that much, Weasley, but this has clearly been a problem for a while. It’s much too sprained.”
“And how would you know?” Ginny asked defensively.
“When will you and your thick friends get it through your heads that I’m not stupid,” he gave out a frustrated sigh. “I’m actually pretty intelligent.”
“Don’t forget modest,” she said sarcastically.
“Do you want me to help, or not?” He looked annoyed.
“I had a bad fall a few months ago,” she said. She wasn’t about to tell this boy inspecting her leg that she’d been blown against a concrete wall from a misfired spell his father had cast.
He stared at her for a moment, as if wondering about the validity of her words. He took out his wand, and while massaging the leg with one hand, he began to murmur an incoherent spell by flicking his wand in short, quick movements.
Her heart was beating rapidly at his intensity. His hand moved up and down her leg. His fingers were warm and gentle. She had the tiniest feeling that he was carrying his hand further up her leg than was necessary. I just had to be wearing shorts.
Ginny suddenly hissed and withdrew her leg sharply. “What spell are you using?” For all she knew, he could be using dark magic. Panic began to rise in her. What if he was actually hurting her? How could she have been so foolish as to trust Malfoy?
Malfoy looked affronted. “I’m not trying to hurt you.” Ginny looked at him for a moment and something told her that he was telling the truth.
“The spell I used is Tumor Medicor. It’ll heal your swollen leg. See,” he gestured towards her leg. He was right; the swelling had disappeared. “But there seems to be some adverse magical affects to it as well. You should get it checked out.”
“Wow,” she said, surprised. “I don’t know what to-“
“Don’t,” he said. He looked angry.
“Dra-..Malfoy…I…thanks?” she asked, puzzled by his interjection.
“We’re not friends. We’re not anything. I don’t need your thanks,” he said simply. He rose to his feet and started to head towards his still levitating broom.
“What?” she cried, jumping to her feet. “You did something nice for me; I’m just being nice in return.”
He turned to look at her. “Nice? I hardly call questioning my intelligence and intentions to be nice.”
She raked a hand through her now wild hair, as the wind had picked up and she could feel scattered raindrops on her face. “What do you expect? You’re constantly berating me, my family, and my friends! You basically threatened me in the broom closet last night! I think I had good reason to believe you’d kill me!”
“You’re mad,” Malfoy scoffed as he swung a leg over his broom.
“And you’re a right awful git,” she cried after him as his broom took off. It was now raining and she found herself drenched.
Ginny watched him disappear, probably heading back towards Hogwarts. She jogged back to the locker room, shivering. The nerve of him, she thought furiously, slamming a fist into a locker.
It wasn’t until then she realized it wouldn’t be long before she’d have to see him again – they were meeting for their Muggle Studies assignment in the evening.
Dear Mum,
Ron and I are doing well. We look forward to coming home for the holidays. There have been talks of a Christmas ball here. Could you send me dress robes? Give our love to Dad.
Love,
Ginny
Ginny had heard from Hermione and Ron that some of the prefects had suggested a Christmas ball to lighten everyone’s moods. There hadn’t been one at Hogwarts since Ginny could remember. There had only been the Yule Ball during her third year.
When she arrived at the Owlery, the owls were hooting loudly. She could see a beautiful eagle owl flying away from Hogwarts. Ginny found Pig sitting in-between two large barn owls. She clipped her letter to his leg.
“Take this to Mum,” she said, ruffling Pig’s feathers. He hooted appreciatively and took off. On her way out she bumped into Harry.
“Oh, Harry!” Ginny exclaimed, blushing.
“Ginny, sorry about that,” Harry said, running a hand through his messy hair. He bent over to pick up some pieces of parchment, one Ginny assumed to be a letter and another she recognized as the Marauder’s Map.
Harry noticed her watching him and quickly stuffed the parchment into a pocket in his robes.
“How’ve you-” Ginny and Harry said together. They laughed.
“I’ve been fine, and you?” Ginny asked.
“Same, you know,” he said. After an awkward pause he asked, “Listen, Ginny, you didn’t happen to see anyone else here, did you?”
Ginny shrugged, “No, I’m afraid I didn’t.” She looked at him curiously. “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah,” he said quickly. “Just, you know, with the post and all. I wanted to make sure things were safe.”
“Right,” she nodded awkwardly.
“And how’s Dean?” Harry asked, his voice breaking slightly.
“Just fine. I’m sure you’d know that, since you room with him,” she gave a quick laugh.
“Yeah. Well, I guess I’ll just…” he said, taking his letter back out.
“Of course. See you, Harry,” she said, and made her way out.
Harry had been acting awfully paranoid since they’d gotten back to Hogwarts. She’d seen him with the Map on numerous occasions. Ginny suddenly shuddered, realizing that he was capable of knowing where everyone was at any given moment. Maybe that’s why he asked how Dean was, she thought, turning red.
It was still a little too early for breakfast so Ginny decided to run a few laps around the Quidditch field. She headed into the girls’ locker room to change quickly.
As Ginny took a seat on a bench to tie the laces of her trainers, she could hear two girls enter the locker room. They were concealed behind a row of lockers so Ginny couldn’t make out who they were.
“I haven’t decided who I’m going to the ball with,” a high-pitched girl said.
“Have they decided for sure about the ball?” a second girl asked.
“I believe so. That’s what Pansy and Draco have been telling us,” the high-pitched girl said.
Slytherins, Ginny thought, rolling her eyes.
“Did you hear they had a row? They haven’t spoken in days,” laughed the second girl.
Ginny recognized the second voice belonging to Astoria Greengrass, one year below her.
“Blimey,” the other girl gave a low whistle. After a pause she added, “So does that mean Draco is on the market?” Both girls began to giggle.
Ginny felt as though she was going to be sick. She got up and darted out of the locker room before the girls could see her. Girls talked about boys in the locker room all the time. Ginny had even taken part in the conversations sometimes. But hearing the two girls giggling about Draco Malfoy made her want to hurl.
She began jogging along the perimeters of the field, taking in the early morning air in deep breaths. It wasn’t a beautiful day by a long shot, but she still appreciated the outdoors. Her classmates often teased her about “running the Muggle way”. Wizards and witches could use enchantments to place themselves in a simulation, so that they would feel as though they were running along a beach or through a valley. Ginny liked to be surrounded by things that were real. Running around an ordinary Quidditch field enabled her to clear her head whenever she was stressed out.
The field was virtually empty save for a lone figuring flying on a broom. They were weaving in and out of the goal posts.
After twenty minutes her leg began to hurt. Ginny grunted. Curse this injury! She knelt in the grass under the Ravenclaw stands to massage her leg.
It was really beginning to swell. Ginny looked around the Quidditch field helplessly. She had her wand with her, but she hadn’t the faintest idea as to what spell to cast to give herself relief. Okay, just slowly get up, and take it from there, she reassured herself.
The moment Ginny tried to pick herself up, pain seared through her leg. She collapsed back onto the ground. What am I going to do?
Suddenly she could hear the soaring sound a broom above the field, followed by flapping robes. She looked up into the sky and noticed the flier circling the field.
Should I call out for help? I don’t even know who it is.
The flier seemed to take notice of her and their broom began to descend towards her.
It wasn’t until the figure dismounted from their broom that Ginny recognized Draco Malfoy.
Ginny was incredulous. “Are you kidding me? How many times are we going to run into each other before one kills the other?”
“What on Earth are you wearing, Weasley?” Malfoy asked. He was dressed in his Quidditch uniform and Ginny couldn’t help but to catch her breath. He looked repulsively dashing with his windswept hair falling into his flushed face.
“I know I call your family dirty, but sitting in the mud isn’t exactly lady-like,” he said, standing in front of her.
“I’ve had a fall, that’s all,” she winced. “You wouldn’t happen to know a spell for this?” she asked, motioning towards her leg.
Malfoy laughed. “I’ve been trying to get you back for the hexes for a while now. I’d say this is the best opportunity, to leave you stranded here.” He looked towards the gray sky and added, “And right before it rains, too.”
Ginny rolled her eyes and sighed, “Fine, Malfoy. Go on, get lost and leave me be.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, kneeling into the grass with her. “I was only joking. As much as I loathe you, I wouldn’t leave a woman in distress.”
Ginny smirked. “So you do hate me. How I’ve longed to hear those three words come from your mouth.”
Malfoy took a hold of her foot and propped it onto his lap for closer inspection. “What happened?”
She suddenly felt very warm. “I was jogging.”
Malfoy shook his head. “I got that much, Weasley, but this has clearly been a problem for a while. It’s much too sprained.”
“And how would you know?” Ginny asked defensively.
“When will you and your thick friends get it through your heads that I’m not stupid,” he gave out a frustrated sigh. “I’m actually pretty intelligent.”
“Don’t forget modest,” she said sarcastically.
“Do you want me to help, or not?” He looked annoyed.
“I had a bad fall a few months ago,” she said. She wasn’t about to tell this boy inspecting her leg that she’d been blown against a concrete wall from a misfired spell his father had cast.
He stared at her for a moment, as if wondering about the validity of her words. He took out his wand, and while massaging the leg with one hand, he began to murmur an incoherent spell by flicking his wand in short, quick movements.
Her heart was beating rapidly at his intensity. His hand moved up and down her leg. His fingers were warm and gentle. She had the tiniest feeling that he was carrying his hand further up her leg than was necessary. I just had to be wearing shorts.
Ginny suddenly hissed and withdrew her leg sharply. “What spell are you using?” For all she knew, he could be using dark magic. Panic began to rise in her. What if he was actually hurting her? How could she have been so foolish as to trust Malfoy?
Malfoy looked affronted. “I’m not trying to hurt you.” Ginny looked at him for a moment and something told her that he was telling the truth.
“The spell I used is Tumor Medicor. It’ll heal your swollen leg. See,” he gestured towards her leg. He was right; the swelling had disappeared. “But there seems to be some adverse magical affects to it as well. You should get it checked out.”
“Wow,” she said, surprised. “I don’t know what to-“
“Don’t,” he said. He looked angry.
“Dra-..Malfoy…I…thanks?” she asked, puzzled by his interjection.
“We’re not friends. We’re not anything. I don’t need your thanks,” he said simply. He rose to his feet and started to head towards his still levitating broom.
“What?” she cried, jumping to her feet. “You did something nice for me; I’m just being nice in return.”
He turned to look at her. “Nice? I hardly call questioning my intelligence and intentions to be nice.”
She raked a hand through her now wild hair, as the wind had picked up and she could feel scattered raindrops on her face. “What do you expect? You’re constantly berating me, my family, and my friends! You basically threatened me in the broom closet last night! I think I had good reason to believe you’d kill me!”
“You’re mad,” Malfoy scoffed as he swung a leg over his broom.
“And you’re a right awful git,” she cried after him as his broom took off. It was now raining and she found herself drenched.
Ginny watched him disappear, probably heading back towards Hogwarts. She jogged back to the locker room, shivering. The nerve of him, she thought furiously, slamming a fist into a locker.
It wasn’t until then she realized it wouldn’t be long before she’d have to see him again – they were meeting for their Muggle Studies assignment in the evening.
Author notes: Tumor Medicore: My spell for healing swelling.
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