Ginny Weasley
Chapter 16: Ginny Weasley
Draco woke with a start. He had dreamt that his father found him leaning against Granger’s bed, holding her hands. He looked around him uncomfortably—it was still dark outside, no hint of twilight yet. The only sounds in the Hospital Wing were from his own breathing.
He stretched each muscle and joint deliciously slowly, then carefully moved to stand. He re-cast his Disillusionment Charm and snuck out of the infirmary just as he had sneaked in. Draco began to descend the stairs, when he could swear he heard his father’s voice for real this time. It was no dream, the rich timbre of Lucius Malfoy’s posh voice lilted toward him growing slightly louder with each word.
Draco tucked himself into an alcove, just as two shadows appeared on the wall across from his hiding spot. The two grew larger and larger, until he could make out the shapes of his father and Dumbledore climbing the staircase ahead of him.
The young Slytherin thought for a moment—surely they weren’t having another meeting? No, his father was up to something if he was making an extra trip to Hogwarts without even writing to Draco first. He attempted to quiet his steps and followed the two older wizards at a distance. He couldn’t make out much of what they were saying, but he could tell the men were heading toward the Headmaster’s office.
Lucius and Dumbledore paused in front of the large gargoyle, just as Draco reached the top of the stairs. He tried to calm his breathing so as not to alert them to his presence.
“Very well, Dumbledore. You really should collect your things. The Board of Governors has appointed Minerva as the new interim Headmistress for the remainder of the term,” Lucius said, his gray eyes flickered in triumph.
“Yes, yes, Lucius I’ll be gone by morning so you can put away your silly little paper from the Board. I’m sure all twelve signatures are indeed on it, and I’m sure when all this is over, you’ll be removed from said Board,” Dumbledore retorted in a sickly sweet tone.
“I’m sorry, are you threatening me, Albus?” The blonde man looked appalled, but Draco knew that look well. He was daring Dumbledore to make a mistake that he could run with, and honestly, Draco would be glad to witness that. The Headmaster really shouldn’t be a Headmaster at all. McGonagall, however strict and taciturn, would at least be fair and actually care about the well-being of all students—even the ones who aren’t Harry-bloody-Potter.
“Threaten? Of course not, Lucius, let us not lose our heads here. I merely mean to say that you, of course, did threaten and blackmail quite a few of the Governors for their signatures and when it gets out, you will be the one resigning,” Dumbledore stated plainly, dropping all pretenses.
“We’ll just see about that. Just because I do not wish to see the Dark Lord return, does not mean I am on your side, Albus. Mark my words, I have no loyalties to you or anyone else outside the Malfoy family. Continue to put my son in danger, and I will do everything within my power to make sure you are never reinstated,” Lucius ground out through clenched teeth. With a whip of his long, black traveling cloak, Draco’s father was gone.
“Goodnight Lucius,” Dumbledore sighed and removed his spectacles, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He then placed them back in their usual crook on his nose, and even more quietly he whispered, “goodnight Draco.”
…
Draco had returned to the Hospital Wing nearly every night the rest of the week only to continually find it smothered with heavy wards. There was no way in unless you were being escorted by a Head of House or Poppy Pomfrey. At least he didn’t have to help Snape brew potions anymore with the curfew in place.
Dumbledore had left the grounds the morning after Lucius Malfoy had given the notice of suspension from the Board of Governors. That same night, Hagrid had apparently been carted off to Azkaban under the guise of student safety. It was later revealed through the rumor mill of Hogwarts that he had been expelled as a student fifty years ago in relation to the last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened. Of course, anyone with a brain would realize there was no circumstance that would allow for Rubeus Hagrid, half-giant, and Gryffindor, to be the Heir of Slytherin. Draco was shocked at the number of students who apparently had no brain.
One good thing had come out of that horrendous night—Dumbledore was gone. Newly appointed interim Headmistress Minerva McGonagall was a fierce protector of her students, and Draco could rest easily, knowing she would actually take action on the information. That is to say, if Snape ever tells her.
The Slytherins were sitting in their double Potions class with the Gryffindors one fine Friday, nearly two weeks after the old Headmaster had left.
“I always thought Father might be the one who got rid of Dumbledore,” Draco said, not troubling to keep his voice down. “I told you he thought Dumbledore was the worst headmaster the school’s ever had. Maybe we’ll get a decent headmaster now.” Greg and Vince were sitting with him in nearly every class now that Pansy and Daphne had put a monopoly on Theo’s and Blaise’s tables and classroom partnerships. He didn’t mind though, they were good listeners, and much less meddlesome than Theo and Blaise could be.
Snape swept past Potter, making no comment about Granger’s empty seat and cauldron, and lurked around the edges of the classroom.
Don’t act like you didn’t help almost kill her you insufferable git! YOU KNEW! You knew and you did NOTHING!
“Sir,” said Draco sarcastically sweetly. “Sir, why don’t you apply for the headmaster’s job?”
“Now, now, Malfoy,” said Snape, though he couldn’t suppress a thin-lipped smile. “Professor Dumbledore has only been suspended by the governors. I daresay he’ll be back with us soon enough.”
I sure as shit hope not.
“Yeah, right,” said Draco, smirking. “I expect you’d have Father’s vote, sir, if you wanted to apply for the job— I’ll tell Father you’re the best teacher here, sir —”
Not on your life.
Snape smirked at the obvious sarcasm as he swept off around the dungeon, unfortunately not spotting Seamus Finnigan, who was pretending to vomit into his cauldron.
“I’m quite surprised the Mudbloods haven’t all packed their bags by now,” Draco went on. You idiots really should try to save yourselves sometime . “Bet you five Galleons the next one dies. Pity it wasn’t—” you, Potter, you’re a half-blood, yeah?
The bell rang at that moment, which was lucky; at Draco’s last words, the Weasel and Potter had assumed he would say Granger. They had leapt off their stools, and in the scramble to collect bags and books, the attempts to reach Draco went unnoticed.
“Let me at him,” Ron growled as Potter and Dean Thomas hung onto his arms. “I don’t care, I don’t need my wand, I’m going to kill him with my bare hands —”
I’d like to see you try Weasel. You’ll be barfing up slugs again, you moron!
“Hurry up, I’ve got to take you all to Herbology,” barked Snape over the class’s heads, and off they marched, with Potter, Weasley, and Dean Thomas bringing up the rear, the Weasel still trying to get loose. They only only safely let go of him when Snape had seen the Gryffindors out of the castle and they were making their way across the vegetable patch toward the greenhouses.
Draco laughed at the scene. Wonder why Weasel’s got his knickers in such a twist over it? He doesn’t even care about Granger—probably just worried she won’t be unpetrified by the time exams roll around. It would sure be a pity if Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley flunked out of Hogwarts in only their second year—may be a record even.
By the time they had been escorted to their afternoon Defense Against the Dark Arts class by McGonagall, Lockhart was already spouting out how safe the school was now, with Hagrid locked up. He declared how he knew it all along, and never trusted the man. Even the Slytherins with a distaste for the groundskeeper groaned and rolled their eyes at the idiocy of it all. Needless to say, the whole class period was a waste and Draco couldn’t wait to finally escape to the Great Hall for dinner.
Dinner tasted like ash on his tongue, leaving a bitter aftertaste. All he could focus on was that it had been two weeks. Two weeks. And no one had done a damn thing. Two students were petrified at the same time and nothing. It had also been two weeks since he had seen her. He wasn’t sure if it would actually be any comfort to see her like that. Though she was assuredly alive, Granger looked like a stiff corpse. Her blank stare haunted his dreams every night, and it was beginning to wear on him.
When six o’clock rolled around, the Slytherins were escorted back to their House to find a note on their bulletin board—exams were quickly approaching and students were to be ready. Draco shrugged, he had completed his work for the year essentially, and would do some minimal revising, but found the entire year to be rather boring academically.
The rest of his House, however, was sent into a frenzy. Half of the Slytherins, including Blaise, decided it was time to buckle down and took the note to heart—littering their dormitories with study aids, notes, and books. The other half, including Theo, lounged around and took an exorbitant number of naps over the course of the following weeks. It was almost comical how quickly everyone had forgotten the danger that lay under the castle.
…
Three days before exams were to start, the usual hustle and bustle of the Great Hall was interrupted at breakfast by Headmistress McGonagall.
“I have good news,” she said, and the Great Hall, instead of falling silent, erupted.
“Dumbledore’s coming back!” several people yelled joyfully.
“You’ve caught the Heir of Slytherin!” squealed a girl at the Ravenclaw table.
“Quidditch matches are back on!” roared Oliver Wood & Marcus Flint excitedly, then eyeing each other with malice.
When the hubbub had subsided, Professor McGonagall said, “Professor Sprout has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last. Tonight, we will be able to revive those people who have been Petrified. I need hardly remind you all that one of them may well be able to tell us who, or what, attacked them. I am hopeful that this dreadful year will end with our catching the culprit.”
Pansy was bouncing in her seat with pride and excitement at her involvement with something so prestigious, and there was an explosion of cheering. Potter looked over at the Slytherin table and Draco wasn’t at all surprised when the wild-haired boy stared at him with heated disdain. Draco returned the sentiment.
Ginny Weasley then moved down and took up a seat next to the Weasel, twisting her hands nervously in her lap. Draco couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the girl kept looking up and down the Gryffindor table as though someone would catch her doing something awful. Like beheading roosters, for example.
When it looked like she would finally say something, Prefect Weasley came and buggered it all up. He grabbed her plate of food and started swallowing bites whole, barely chewing any of it. The girl jumped out of her seat as if struck by lightning, and scurried away from the group, sneaking into the hallways. Why does she get to sneak out in front of literally the entire school?
Draco huffed in annoyance, catching Blaise’s and Theo’s questioning eyes. None of their Housemates seemed to be paying them any attention so Draco just spit it out in a whisper, “Weaselette just snuck out looking pretty upset and scared.”
“So…?” Theo started, clearing trying to work it out in his mind.
“So something big is about to happen, don’t you think? We’re nearing the end of the year when all the students will be leaving—nothing left for the basilisk to attack. It’d be a good opportunity to make a final move with some time left over for a contingency,” Draco whispered back as if it was obvious and Blaise nodded in agreement.
“What do we do then? We can’t just sneak out of the Great Hall in front of everyone!” Theo pointed out.
“Sorry, mate,” Blaise said with his eyes narrowing at Theo.
“Oh, shi—“ he was hit square on his mouth with a Stinging Jinx, and his face started to swell and puff up.
“Theo! You must be allergic to something, what did you eat?!” Draco said loudly, catching Professor Snape’s attention.
“Malfoy, Zabini, what happened to Mr. Nott?” Snape said as he glided up behind them.
“He must’ve eaten something he was allergic to, sir,” Draco said innocently.
“I see…very well I’ll escort him to the Hospital Wing and Madam Pomfrey can set him to rights.”
“Please, sir, could Blaise and I go with him? He can’t stand to be in the infirmary alone,” Draco said sweetly, fully aware that Snape knew they were up to something.
“Yes, sir, he’s terrified of Madam Pomfrey,” Blaise added.
“Fine, let’s go,” Snape gave no resistance, and the two boys toted Theo from the Great Hall.
As soon as they were clear of any stray ears, Snape rounded on them with a furious whip of his cloak. “What exactly do you think you three are up to?”
“Uhg bmuh bfahe ee dvwelbed ughp,” Theo tried to speak, pointing to his grotesque features.
Snape rolled his eyes dramatically, and crossed his arms over his chest tightly. “Care to take a try, Zabini?”
“Sir, Ginny Weasley disappeared during dinner looking rather suspicious, much like before the previous attacks,” Blaise said calmly.
“I see. And three second years were going to take down an ancient basilisk…how exactly?” His snarky tone rang out.
“Respectfully, sir, we know she’s responsible for the attacks. We also know that by tomorrow Potter will have figured it out as well, and be dashing off to play hero. Give us a shot, at least we’re more competent than Potter and Weasley,” Blaise replied.
Draco remained silent, ready to snap if necessary, but Blaise’s cool words seemed to be doing the trick.
“Go,” Snape growled. He swung his cloak out again and swept back down the corridor, leaving them alone at the edge of the second floor corridor.
They three boys remained frozen until he was out of sight, then leapt into action. “Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, I’d bet a hundred galleons she’s in there!” Draco shouted, and the Slytherins launched into action.
The door had been jammed or locked. All three of the boys tugged hard on the handle, and though it groaned at the strain on the old door, it didn’t give. Not even an Alohomora opened it.
Draco pressed his ear up to the door, and heard sobbing, but not the usual wails of Myrtle’s misery. It was a new sobbing, softer, afraid.
“The Weasley girl’s in there, crying,” he said quietly.
“Okay, but how do we get in?” Blaise brainstormed aloud. “How does a first year even know a locking spell that can’t be opened with Alohomora ?”
“I’m sure it wasn’t actually her, mate. She’s possessed, yeah? The Dark Lord is one doing the magic, now,” Theo pointed out. The swelling in his face had started to subside, and he was finally able to speak properly.
All three boys drank in the severity of the situation. They were about to essentially confront the Dark Lord at a mere twelve and thirteen years old. Well, it’s not like I haven’t done it before . Isn’t this what you wanted, Dumbledore? Children fighting your battles? Yes, Headmaster. Right away, Headmaster.
Draco scoffed at his own ire. Back to the task at hand .
“ Bombarda! ” The door flew off its hinges in a heap of splinters, and the first sink shattered into a pile of porcelain and marble. The dust settled and the small redhead sat crouched in the far corner, shaking in terror. Her eyes flitted between the three Slytherin boys, but not seeming to actually see them. Blaise inched his way closer, studying the girl.
“She’s saying something—repeating it over and over,” he observed. “‘Please’…‘I don’t…want to’…I can’t make out any of the rest of it. He’s asking her to do something,” Blaise whispered as he withdrew.
Ginny Weasley’s whole body froze, still crouched on her haunches with her head bowed—hair covering her face like a wall of flames. The muttering had stopped abruptly. Slowly, she raised her head, slightly cocking it to one side, leaving a brown eye exposed, watching. She never blinked, and it was unsettling.
“Does she know we’re here?” Theo choked, and the girl’s head snapped to lock on him. He unconsciously took a step back toward the door, afraid to turn his back on her. She matched his step, maintaining her crouched position.
Draco and Blaise remained frozen, so as not to draw her attention to themselves. Draco could feel the warm wood of the hawthorn wand he held in his hand. He didn’t want to hurt the little witch, she had practically wasted away to nothing the past few months. I guess being possessed does that to a person .
Her lips twisted up in a devilish grin, teeth shining wickedly. He needed to make a move, she was a cornered lioness about to pounce. She sprung forward from her perch, leaping onto Theo, and knocking him square in the chest. He flew back with an oomph , leaving her with an opening for her escape.
Draco and Blaise drew their wands, but we’re too slow. For all her malnourishment, she was still agile and fast, very fast. She shot out of the disordered bathroom and into the hall. She waved her wand over her arm and a gash appeared, crimson flowing down her arm to her fingers.
Draco and Blaise rushed to Theo’s side, and he seemed to be uninjured, just dazed by the attack. They pulled him to his feet and sprinted out the door into the hall.
The three boys froze in horror, she was writing on the wall frantically, just below the previous message:
“ HER SKELETON WILL LIE IN THE CHAMBER FOREVER”
“No!” Draco shouted, lurching into motion. She turned and grinned again wickedly. Still writing with one hand, her other flung them against the stone wall in an impossible display of wandless and wordless magic. They were held in place by what felt like invisible ropes, struggling to get free. The ropes held fast, and when her message was complete, she stalked back into the girls’ lavatory.
The wooden splinters clicked together, the door reconstructing itself, then snapped back into its frame behind her. With the slam of the door, the boys were released, and collapsed into a heap on the floor, gasping for air.
Draco sprung from where he had landed and grabbed onto the door handle, jiggling it and banging on the door loudly to no avail. He backed up three paces, then charged the door with his shoulder once. Twice. He became frantic, and charged it a third time, only to hear a sickening crunch as he collided with the door. The blonde wizard crumpled to the ground, wincing at the excruciating pain rippling down his shoulder and side.
Blaise and Theo ran to him, kneeling beside their now-broken friend.
“Draco!” Theo shouted, lifting his head to place a cushioning charm under it. The boy moaned at the painful movements.
Click.
The door behind them unlocked and slowly swung open. Blaise bravely stood, and untrembling, slowly walked in. He held his wand at the ready, but the bathroom was empty. The broken sink had been repaired, and nothing was out of place. It was as if they had never been there.
“She’s gone. The entrance to the Chamber has to be in here,” Blaise said matter-of-factly. “We need McGonagall.”
Theo nodded in agreement, and whether Draco wanted to admit it or not, he was in no shape to fight off the Dark Lord again, even if he’s in a little girl’s body.
Together, Theo and Blaise lifted Draco with a gentle and collaborative Wingardium leviosa . The movement was uncomfortable, but it would be impossible for Draco to walk with this many broken ribs, and not puncture a lung.
…
The Hospital Wing was still heavily warded, and Draco had to be dropped back on the ground in order for the other boys to bang on the door. Madam Pomfrey appeared promptly with an angry glare that quickly faded into concern after taking in the sight before her.
Thankfully, Madam Pomfrey didn’t ask many questions about the ‘how’ or ‘why’, but stayed focused on the pain of the injuries and the diagnostic spells she was casting. The Mediwitch carefully levitated him to the next available bed, the fifth from the entrance.
“A shattered glenohumeral joint, broken clavicle, and three cracked ribs,” she tutted. “You must be very unlucky today, Mr. Malfoy.” She shot the boys a reproachful look, but went about re-setting his arm and shoulder with a sling and delicate, controlled flicks of her wand. When she was finished, he was handed a small phial of Skele-gro and Blaise and Theo were finally ushered out.
Draco was sure they would go to Snape, and he would inform McGonagall of all that had just occurred. As he took a Calming Draught and a Pain Relief Potion, he watched Madam Pomfrey flit around the infirmary. Professor Snape appeared momentarily, levitating six cauldrons full of a light blue liquid, with violet smoke wafting above them. They smelled strongly of earth, and Draco’s eyes went wide in realization.
It’s the Mandrake solution!