A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! I'd love to read your suggestions/comments on this chapter.
Chapter 10 - Tarts and Confrontations
"Wake up, then! It's time you ate something, young lady."
Ginny grimaced as sunlight dazzled her barely open eyes, temporarily blinding her.
"Mum?" she said weakly, her throat dry.
"Humph! As if someone else was likely to take care of such an obviously dimwitted child as you!" Molly Weasley's hands none-too-gently tugged at Ginny's shoulders, forcing her into a sitting position.
"Oh, Mum, careful! Gods, I’m sore!"
A completely unsympathetic expression met Ginny's eyes. Mrs. Weasley placed a tray over her daughter's lap.
"Eat your chicken soup," the older woman said gruffly.
"Care to let me know what I've done to make you so angry?" Ginny asked, blowing on a spoonful of soup. She should have known better than to ask such a question, she realized upon seeing the way her mother’s face lit up. Too late now, she thought.
"What you've done? What you've done! Are you crazy? Do you realize you could have died out there in that weather, wearing nothing more than your pajamas? Out in the middle of London in a pair of slippers! Why, you didn't even cast a warming charm about yourself, let alone put on a winter cloak! I can't believe a child of mine doesn't have more sense than that! Ginevra Molly Weasley, what were you thinking?"
Ginny’s face fell. Oh, that.
"Mum, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I just needed some fresh air, and I wasn't paying attention. Please don't be mad at me."
Mrs. Weasley's face softened.
"Oh, Ginny! You scared me so much! What could have possibly upset you so much you'd run out of the house in such a state in the middle of the night?"
Ginny had to think quickly.
"I - I was upset. I found out about the mission, and I was just so - so worried about everyone."
Mrs. Weasley smiled sadly at her daughter and then wrapped her in a big hug, nearly knocking over the bowl of soup.
"I understand, dearest. Of course you'd be upset, what with your family and Harry all in danger. But we're all okay, and there's nothing for you to worry about anymore."
Well now you’ve done it, Ginny. Lied to your own Mum. Perhaps you and Draco really are right for one another.
Mrs. Weasley pulled away from her daughter and looked fondly at her.
"I'm just so glad Draco found you," she said softly, stroking her daughter's cheek. Ginny felt a tingle of heat erupt in her stomach at the thought of those rough hands encircling her, those strong arms cradling her against his chest as he carried her unconscious form back to Grimmauld Place. But the mental image was quickly replaced by the sound of his whispered voice:
"I would tear my heart out with my bare hands to rid myself of you if I could! Merlin knows I've tried to get free of you. Why did you have to do this to me, Ginny?"
A pained expression crossed her face.
"What's wrong, Ginny?" her mother asked in alarm.
"Mum, I heard what happened to Malfoy's father. Is he okay?"
"Yes, poor boy. Draco has a heavy burden of sorrow to bear for someone so young. Manipulated all his life by that evil man, never shown proper love, and now responsible, even accidentally, for his death. He hasn't spoken of it, but I'm sure he blames himself." Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "And to make matters worse for him, his mother apparently had a mental breakdown when she learned of her husband's death, and is now at St. Mungo's. We can't let Draco go see her for fear of a Death Eater trap. He seems to care deeply for that woman, though I can't see how she deserves it."
"She's his mother - of course he cares for her," Ginny replied.
"Some mother," Mrs. Weasley replied with another humph. "Well, dear. Eat up, and then rest more. That's an order."
-----
Ginny shuffled her way down to the kitchen later that day. She couldn't take being cooped up in bed any longer, and with good reason. The sleep draught she'd been given had lasted for almost 30 hours, and Ginny felt stiff all over from lying in the same position for so long. She'd dutifully finished the soup her mother brought her and even managed to doze off for a short time afterwards, but upon waking up she felt hopelessly restless. So, with fingers crossed that her mother wouldn't be too upset, she stole out of bed and took a good, long shower, letting the hot water soothe her aching muscles. Then she put on her most comfortable sweats and her red slippers and decided to take a turn about the house. The delicious scent of cinnamon and nutmeg drew her toward the kitchen.
Pushing through the door, she caught Harry red-handed.
"Oh, Ginny, it's just you," he said with a breath of relief, bringing a half-eaten apple tart out from behind his back. "I thought it might be your mum." He quickly moved to embrace his girlfriend in a tight hug.
"Hi, Harry," Ginny laughed, hugging him in return before moving to grab one of the still-warm tarts off of the counter for herself.
"Hey, are you supposed to be out of bed yet?"
"I won't tell on you if you don't tell on me."
"Deal," Harry laughed. "I'm glad to see you - I was worried."
"I'm really sorry, Harry. I don't know what I was thinking. Guess I'm just an idiot."
"You're not, Gin. Your mum told me you were upset about the lot of us going on that mission. I should have told you about it. I'm sorry. I'm - I'm going to make it up to you, I promise."
Ginny squeezed Harry's arm affectionately, and then looked down, deciding to broach a subject of much interest to her.
"Um, Harry . . . I kind of heard you talking to me when I was under that sleeping potion."
Harry reddened. "You did?"
Ginny nodded, an apologetic expression on her face. "Did you mean all of those things? About wanting to get married and live near the Burrow after the war?"
Harry's face wore a panicked expression, but he nodded his head once in affirmation.
It was Ginny's turn to blush. Harry wants to marry me, she thought with wonder.
"Oh, Harry, I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything, Gin. Honestly. I mean, we're still really young yet. And who know if I'll even survive the war."
"Don't talk like that, Harry, of course you're going to survive the war," Ginny said with fierce tenderness in her voice. "And I - I do want to be with you." She hugged him quickly, burying her reddening face in his shoulder.
Harry swallowed audibly. "We'll be really happy, Ginny," he whispered solemnly.
"Harry? I know this is going to sound silly, but do you think we could live in London instead of near the Burrow?"
Harry frowned. "You don't want to stay close to your family? I always imagined us all living near one another."
"It's not that I don't care about my family, or don't want to see them frequently, it's just that I kind of imagined having a bit of space after graduation. Having the room to be a bit more independent."
"Oh," Harry said, still frowning. "Well, it's a long way off in any case. Plenty of time to discuss it then, right?" He managed a shaky smile, which Ginny returned. Both worked on their apple tarts in silence, leaning side by side against the counter.
Why does he care so much where we live? Ginny puzzled. There was something about that fact that Ginny found a bit strange, though she couldn’t determine why. I guess it doesn't really matter. Like Harry says, it's a long way off. There's a war going on, not to mention the fact that I have another year of school left after this one. Plenty of time to figure things out. Still, Ginny couldn't quite shake a vague feeling of unease.
Suddenly the kitchen door opened, and an irate Molly Weasley stood in it.
"Ah ha!" she said dramatically, pointing a finger at the two tart filchers. "Those are for dessert tonight! Shame on the both of you! And you, young lady, are supposed to be in bed! Now, march! Straight upstairs, and don't let me catch you again!" Mrs. Weasley stood aside to allow her daughter through the doorway.
Ginny hurried out of the kitchen, glad to have gotten away so easily. Her mother followed her up the stairs into the entrance hall, and watched as Ginny ascended the stairs toward the bedrooms.
"Straight to bed!" Mrs. Weasley called after her daughter's retreating form.
Ginny paused with her hand on the doorknob to her bedroom. She was glad she'd gotten a chance to talk to Harry, albeit briefly, but there was one more matter weighing on her heart. Slowly, she turned away from her bedroom door, and made her way down the hall.
This time she knocked, and after a moment, Draco opened the door a crack.
"Weasley," he said in surprise, pushing an errant blonde lock out of his eyes.
"We need to talk," Ginny said determinedly.
"I seriously doubt it," Draco drawled with a bored expression on his face.
"I could give a rat's ass what you think, Malfoy. Let me in or I swear to Circe I will make you regret it."
Draco smirked. "Calm down, Weasley. Mustn't get our knickers in a bunch. Come in and have your say if it means so much to you." He opened the door a bit wider and motioned Ginny inside.
She swept passed him and waited for him to shut the door and turn to face her before throwing him the dirtiest look she could muster.
"You are an insufferably arrogant bastard," she said. "The way you've treated me is inexcusable!"
Draco's impassive expression faltered for a moment.
"You're right, Weasley," he began. "My conduct the other night was beneath me and-"
"Beneath you!" Ginny thundered. "How dare you say I'm beneath you! I'm every bit your equal, no matter how much money you have! Is that why you're ashamed to love me?"
Draco made a sound of frustration. "Weasley, you are willfully misunderstanding me - wait, what did you say?"
"That's right, Malfoy. I heard your little speech the other night! Only a Malfoy could tell a girl he loves her and then insult her in the same breath!" Ginny crossed her arms triumphantly.
For a moment, a look of panic crossed Draco's face. It was gone so quickly, Ginny almost thought she'd imagined it.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Weasley. Perhaps the cold addled your brain."
"You know damn well what I'm talking about! And I came here to tell you that I could care less whether you love me or not. I never asked you to! All you've done is hurt me, Draco Malfoy, since this whole mess started. And I'm through with it. You are the last man I ever wanted to be with! So you can take your scruples and your accusations and shove them!"
Strong emotions played over Draco's face as Ginny shouted at him - from rage to astonishment to what Ginny would have labeled hurt if she had seen it on any other face than Malfoy's.
"Don't you sound so self-righteous with me, Weasley!" he spat back when she finished her tirade. "As if you don't feel the exact same way. Tell me, when you found yourself in love with a Malfoy, were you glad of it? Did you rejoice at the thought? Were you eagerly looking forward to telling your family, your friends?"
The truth in his words stung her, but Ginny refused to back down.
"I'm not like that, Draco," she said hotly. "And the point's irrelevant - it's not like you ever gave me the chance to tell anyone. As soon as you got what you wanted out of me you cast me aside like garbage."
"I did you a favor, Weasley. You and I both know it's easier for you to hate me - it helps you sleep better at night."
"I think you are getting me confused with you - I've never hated you, and I still don’t."
Draco smiled almost maliciously, and took a step closer to Ginny.
"Because you love me, Ginny?" he asked with a hard glint in his steely eyes.
Ginny felt her cheeks burning under Draco's gaze. No! I won't let him win!
"I never loved you! I was just deluded! I've always loved Harry!" she shouted, her insides burning at the magnitude of her lie.
Draco laughed incredulously, but his eyes remained cold and focused on her.
"Tell me, Ginny," he asked in a deadly quiet voice. "Did you take your own advice?"
"What are you talking about?" Ginny faltered.
"You gave me advice that day you found me in the bathroom. You told me that there were easy choices and right choices. Did you make the right choice, Ginny? Or the easy one?"
Ginny's mouth dropped open, but no words came. Finally she whispered, "You don't know what you're talking about," before running out of the room.
She had gone into that discussion assured of putting Malfoy in his place, but somehow, he had made her feel like the worst person in the world.
-----
"Of course that's wonderful," Luna said doubtfully. "It's just that you're so young and -"
"Well, it wasn't a real proposal of course," Ginny interrupted impatiently. "Just a discussion of our future plans. I know we're too young."
"So Harry's it, then?"
"What do you mean? Who else would there be?"
Luna groaned. "Oh, I don't know, maybe that pale piece of man-candy you're really in love with?"
It was the first day back from the Christmas holiday, and, Ginny thought with an inward grimace, it didn't appear that Luna had given up on her Malfoy obsession.
That makes two of us, a small voice in the back of Ginny's mind said.
"Anyway," Ginny said loudly, completely ignoring her friend's comment and the voice in her head, "tell me how your hols were. Did Neville send you a Christmas gift?"
"As a matter of fact he did," Luna said, sounding surprised at Ginny's astuteness. “He sent a lovely necklace of brussel sprouts, charmed to always stay fresh. I'd wear it every day, but it's really more for formal occasions."
"Er, that sounds very . . . pretty."
"And you know," Luna lowered her voice to a whisper, "I think, based on the card he sent with the necklace, that he has, well, feelings for me."
"Really?" Ginny feigned surprise. "What did he write?"
"Not much, really. Just 'Luna, I have feelings for you.'"
Ginny couldn't help but laugh. "That sounds pretty definite. Did you reply?"
"No, I didn't. And I haven't seen him yet." Luna sounded worried.
"What are you going to say? Do you like him as well?"
Luna didn't have a chance to reply, for at that moment, the man in question approached their table in the back of the library.
"Uh, hello Neville," Ginny said quickly to gain her friend some time. “How was your Christmas?”
"Fine," Neville replied absently, looking anxiously at Luna. "Hello, Luna."
"Hello, Neville. Thank you for the necklace. It is lovely. I got your card as well."
"You did?" Neville asked with dread in his voice.
"Yes."
One minute Luna was standing shakily and approaching the near-fainting Neville, the next minute she had knocked him onto the table and the two were furiously, and rather awkwardly, snogging.
"Oh, my," said Ginny, quickly gathering her books and rising. "I'll just see you both at dinner then."
Neither seemed to hear her as she made a hasty retreat.
-----
Ron banged his head on the kitchen table in frustration.
"Please just repeat it for me? I'm feeling slow today," he said.
Hermione sighed. “Okay, there's seven total. One was Tom Riddle's diary - destroyed by Harry in our second year. Two was Salazar Slytherin's ring - destroyed by Dumbledore in the summer before our sixth year. Three, the locket - destroyed according to 'R.A.B.' or at least, soon to be destroyed as the note said. Fourth, Ravenclaw's bronze eagle statue - destroyed by us. Fifth, Hufflepuff’s cup - destroyed by us. That leaves sixth - the snake, that we're almost certain is a horcrux at this point. And seventh - the piece that still resides in Voldemort's body."
"So that means we can go after Vo- You-Know-Who now, then, right?"
"No, Ron, for the last time!" Hermione replied in exasperation. "We can't hunt down Voldemort until we are absolutely certain that we've taken care of all the other horcuxes. And as Harry's already said, he feels unsure about the locket."
"It's just that I swear I've seen it - and not just in the Pensieve. If I could only remember where . . . ." Harry said slowly.'
Draco sighed in annoyance. "I don't know who's dimmer, you Potter, or the Weasel-king there. At this rate the war will never be over."
As usual, the meeting broke into chaos as raucous insults began flying back and forth across the table.
Before Lupin and Arthur Weasley were able to reestablish order, a frantic figure rushed into the room.
At first glance it appeared to be Sylvia Rolyeard, a known, but rather insignificant Death Eater. Rapidly, the portly, sallow-faced, middle-aged witch morphed into Tonks, who gripped the sides of the table and bowed her head as she attempted to catch her breath.
"Hogwarts," she gasped.
Several of the people at the table rose in alarm.
"What is it, Tonks? What did you find out?" Shacklebolt boomed.
"They're going to attack the castle. In full force. Even Voldemort. They're going to kill as many students as they can."
"Oh my God!" exclaimed Hermione, covering her gaping mouth with her hands.
"When Tonks?" asked Arthur urgently.
"Tonight," Tonks choked out.
Chapter 10 - Tarts and Confrontations
"Wake up, then! It's time you ate something, young lady."
Ginny grimaced as sunlight dazzled her barely open eyes, temporarily blinding her.
"Mum?" she said weakly, her throat dry.
"Humph! As if someone else was likely to take care of such an obviously dimwitted child as you!" Molly Weasley's hands none-too-gently tugged at Ginny's shoulders, forcing her into a sitting position.
"Oh, Mum, careful! Gods, I’m sore!"
A completely unsympathetic expression met Ginny's eyes. Mrs. Weasley placed a tray over her daughter's lap.
"Eat your chicken soup," the older woman said gruffly.
"Care to let me know what I've done to make you so angry?" Ginny asked, blowing on a spoonful of soup. She should have known better than to ask such a question, she realized upon seeing the way her mother’s face lit up. Too late now, she thought.
"What you've done? What you've done! Are you crazy? Do you realize you could have died out there in that weather, wearing nothing more than your pajamas? Out in the middle of London in a pair of slippers! Why, you didn't even cast a warming charm about yourself, let alone put on a winter cloak! I can't believe a child of mine doesn't have more sense than that! Ginevra Molly Weasley, what were you thinking?"
Ginny’s face fell. Oh, that.
"Mum, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I just needed some fresh air, and I wasn't paying attention. Please don't be mad at me."
Mrs. Weasley's face softened.
"Oh, Ginny! You scared me so much! What could have possibly upset you so much you'd run out of the house in such a state in the middle of the night?"
Ginny had to think quickly.
"I - I was upset. I found out about the mission, and I was just so - so worried about everyone."
Mrs. Weasley smiled sadly at her daughter and then wrapped her in a big hug, nearly knocking over the bowl of soup.
"I understand, dearest. Of course you'd be upset, what with your family and Harry all in danger. But we're all okay, and there's nothing for you to worry about anymore."
Well now you’ve done it, Ginny. Lied to your own Mum. Perhaps you and Draco really are right for one another.
Mrs. Weasley pulled away from her daughter and looked fondly at her.
"I'm just so glad Draco found you," she said softly, stroking her daughter's cheek. Ginny felt a tingle of heat erupt in her stomach at the thought of those rough hands encircling her, those strong arms cradling her against his chest as he carried her unconscious form back to Grimmauld Place. But the mental image was quickly replaced by the sound of his whispered voice:
"I would tear my heart out with my bare hands to rid myself of you if I could! Merlin knows I've tried to get free of you. Why did you have to do this to me, Ginny?"
A pained expression crossed her face.
"What's wrong, Ginny?" her mother asked in alarm.
"Mum, I heard what happened to Malfoy's father. Is he okay?"
"Yes, poor boy. Draco has a heavy burden of sorrow to bear for someone so young. Manipulated all his life by that evil man, never shown proper love, and now responsible, even accidentally, for his death. He hasn't spoken of it, but I'm sure he blames himself." Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "And to make matters worse for him, his mother apparently had a mental breakdown when she learned of her husband's death, and is now at St. Mungo's. We can't let Draco go see her for fear of a Death Eater trap. He seems to care deeply for that woman, though I can't see how she deserves it."
"She's his mother - of course he cares for her," Ginny replied.
"Some mother," Mrs. Weasley replied with another humph. "Well, dear. Eat up, and then rest more. That's an order."
Ginny shuffled her way down to the kitchen later that day. She couldn't take being cooped up in bed any longer, and with good reason. The sleep draught she'd been given had lasted for almost 30 hours, and Ginny felt stiff all over from lying in the same position for so long. She'd dutifully finished the soup her mother brought her and even managed to doze off for a short time afterwards, but upon waking up she felt hopelessly restless. So, with fingers crossed that her mother wouldn't be too upset, she stole out of bed and took a good, long shower, letting the hot water soothe her aching muscles. Then she put on her most comfortable sweats and her red slippers and decided to take a turn about the house. The delicious scent of cinnamon and nutmeg drew her toward the kitchen.
Pushing through the door, she caught Harry red-handed.
"Oh, Ginny, it's just you," he said with a breath of relief, bringing a half-eaten apple tart out from behind his back. "I thought it might be your mum." He quickly moved to embrace his girlfriend in a tight hug.
"Hi, Harry," Ginny laughed, hugging him in return before moving to grab one of the still-warm tarts off of the counter for herself.
"Hey, are you supposed to be out of bed yet?"
"I won't tell on you if you don't tell on me."
"Deal," Harry laughed. "I'm glad to see you - I was worried."
"I'm really sorry, Harry. I don't know what I was thinking. Guess I'm just an idiot."
"You're not, Gin. Your mum told me you were upset about the lot of us going on that mission. I should have told you about it. I'm sorry. I'm - I'm going to make it up to you, I promise."
Ginny squeezed Harry's arm affectionately, and then looked down, deciding to broach a subject of much interest to her.
"Um, Harry . . . I kind of heard you talking to me when I was under that sleeping potion."
Harry reddened. "You did?"
Ginny nodded, an apologetic expression on her face. "Did you mean all of those things? About wanting to get married and live near the Burrow after the war?"
Harry's face wore a panicked expression, but he nodded his head once in affirmation.
It was Ginny's turn to blush. Harry wants to marry me, she thought with wonder.
"Oh, Harry, I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything, Gin. Honestly. I mean, we're still really young yet. And who know if I'll even survive the war."
"Don't talk like that, Harry, of course you're going to survive the war," Ginny said with fierce tenderness in her voice. "And I - I do want to be with you." She hugged him quickly, burying her reddening face in his shoulder.
Harry swallowed audibly. "We'll be really happy, Ginny," he whispered solemnly.
"Harry? I know this is going to sound silly, but do you think we could live in London instead of near the Burrow?"
Harry frowned. "You don't want to stay close to your family? I always imagined us all living near one another."
"It's not that I don't care about my family, or don't want to see them frequently, it's just that I kind of imagined having a bit of space after graduation. Having the room to be a bit more independent."
"Oh," Harry said, still frowning. "Well, it's a long way off in any case. Plenty of time to discuss it then, right?" He managed a shaky smile, which Ginny returned. Both worked on their apple tarts in silence, leaning side by side against the counter.
Why does he care so much where we live? Ginny puzzled. There was something about that fact that Ginny found a bit strange, though she couldn’t determine why. I guess it doesn't really matter. Like Harry says, it's a long way off. There's a war going on, not to mention the fact that I have another year of school left after this one. Plenty of time to figure things out. Still, Ginny couldn't quite shake a vague feeling of unease.
Suddenly the kitchen door opened, and an irate Molly Weasley stood in it.
"Ah ha!" she said dramatically, pointing a finger at the two tart filchers. "Those are for dessert tonight! Shame on the both of you! And you, young lady, are supposed to be in bed! Now, march! Straight upstairs, and don't let me catch you again!" Mrs. Weasley stood aside to allow her daughter through the doorway.
Ginny hurried out of the kitchen, glad to have gotten away so easily. Her mother followed her up the stairs into the entrance hall, and watched as Ginny ascended the stairs toward the bedrooms.
"Straight to bed!" Mrs. Weasley called after her daughter's retreating form.
Ginny paused with her hand on the doorknob to her bedroom. She was glad she'd gotten a chance to talk to Harry, albeit briefly, but there was one more matter weighing on her heart. Slowly, she turned away from her bedroom door, and made her way down the hall.
This time she knocked, and after a moment, Draco opened the door a crack.
"Weasley," he said in surprise, pushing an errant blonde lock out of his eyes.
"We need to talk," Ginny said determinedly.
"I seriously doubt it," Draco drawled with a bored expression on his face.
"I could give a rat's ass what you think, Malfoy. Let me in or I swear to Circe I will make you regret it."
Draco smirked. "Calm down, Weasley. Mustn't get our knickers in a bunch. Come in and have your say if it means so much to you." He opened the door a bit wider and motioned Ginny inside.
She swept passed him and waited for him to shut the door and turn to face her before throwing him the dirtiest look she could muster.
"You are an insufferably arrogant bastard," she said. "The way you've treated me is inexcusable!"
Draco's impassive expression faltered for a moment.
"You're right, Weasley," he began. "My conduct the other night was beneath me and-"
"Beneath you!" Ginny thundered. "How dare you say I'm beneath you! I'm every bit your equal, no matter how much money you have! Is that why you're ashamed to love me?"
Draco made a sound of frustration. "Weasley, you are willfully misunderstanding me - wait, what did you say?"
"That's right, Malfoy. I heard your little speech the other night! Only a Malfoy could tell a girl he loves her and then insult her in the same breath!" Ginny crossed her arms triumphantly.
For a moment, a look of panic crossed Draco's face. It was gone so quickly, Ginny almost thought she'd imagined it.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Weasley. Perhaps the cold addled your brain."
"You know damn well what I'm talking about! And I came here to tell you that I could care less whether you love me or not. I never asked you to! All you've done is hurt me, Draco Malfoy, since this whole mess started. And I'm through with it. You are the last man I ever wanted to be with! So you can take your scruples and your accusations and shove them!"
Strong emotions played over Draco's face as Ginny shouted at him - from rage to astonishment to what Ginny would have labeled hurt if she had seen it on any other face than Malfoy's.
"Don't you sound so self-righteous with me, Weasley!" he spat back when she finished her tirade. "As if you don't feel the exact same way. Tell me, when you found yourself in love with a Malfoy, were you glad of it? Did you rejoice at the thought? Were you eagerly looking forward to telling your family, your friends?"
The truth in his words stung her, but Ginny refused to back down.
"I'm not like that, Draco," she said hotly. "And the point's irrelevant - it's not like you ever gave me the chance to tell anyone. As soon as you got what you wanted out of me you cast me aside like garbage."
"I did you a favor, Weasley. You and I both know it's easier for you to hate me - it helps you sleep better at night."
"I think you are getting me confused with you - I've never hated you, and I still don’t."
Draco smiled almost maliciously, and took a step closer to Ginny.
"Because you love me, Ginny?" he asked with a hard glint in his steely eyes.
Ginny felt her cheeks burning under Draco's gaze. No! I won't let him win!
"I never loved you! I was just deluded! I've always loved Harry!" she shouted, her insides burning at the magnitude of her lie.
Draco laughed incredulously, but his eyes remained cold and focused on her.
"Tell me, Ginny," he asked in a deadly quiet voice. "Did you take your own advice?"
"What are you talking about?" Ginny faltered.
"You gave me advice that day you found me in the bathroom. You told me that there were easy choices and right choices. Did you make the right choice, Ginny? Or the easy one?"
Ginny's mouth dropped open, but no words came. Finally she whispered, "You don't know what you're talking about," before running out of the room.
She had gone into that discussion assured of putting Malfoy in his place, but somehow, he had made her feel like the worst person in the world.
"Of course that's wonderful," Luna said doubtfully. "It's just that you're so young and -"
"Well, it wasn't a real proposal of course," Ginny interrupted impatiently. "Just a discussion of our future plans. I know we're too young."
"So Harry's it, then?"
"What do you mean? Who else would there be?"
Luna groaned. "Oh, I don't know, maybe that pale piece of man-candy you're really in love with?"
It was the first day back from the Christmas holiday, and, Ginny thought with an inward grimace, it didn't appear that Luna had given up on her Malfoy obsession.
That makes two of us, a small voice in the back of Ginny's mind said.
"Anyway," Ginny said loudly, completely ignoring her friend's comment and the voice in her head, "tell me how your hols were. Did Neville send you a Christmas gift?"
"As a matter of fact he did," Luna said, sounding surprised at Ginny's astuteness. “He sent a lovely necklace of brussel sprouts, charmed to always stay fresh. I'd wear it every day, but it's really more for formal occasions."
"Er, that sounds very . . . pretty."
"And you know," Luna lowered her voice to a whisper, "I think, based on the card he sent with the necklace, that he has, well, feelings for me."
"Really?" Ginny feigned surprise. "What did he write?"
"Not much, really. Just 'Luna, I have feelings for you.'"
Ginny couldn't help but laugh. "That sounds pretty definite. Did you reply?"
"No, I didn't. And I haven't seen him yet." Luna sounded worried.
"What are you going to say? Do you like him as well?"
Luna didn't have a chance to reply, for at that moment, the man in question approached their table in the back of the library.
"Uh, hello Neville," Ginny said quickly to gain her friend some time. “How was your Christmas?”
"Fine," Neville replied absently, looking anxiously at Luna. "Hello, Luna."
"Hello, Neville. Thank you for the necklace. It is lovely. I got your card as well."
"You did?" Neville asked with dread in his voice.
"Yes."
One minute Luna was standing shakily and approaching the near-fainting Neville, the next minute she had knocked him onto the table and the two were furiously, and rather awkwardly, snogging.
"Oh, my," said Ginny, quickly gathering her books and rising. "I'll just see you both at dinner then."
Neither seemed to hear her as she made a hasty retreat.
Ron banged his head on the kitchen table in frustration.
"Please just repeat it for me? I'm feeling slow today," he said.
Hermione sighed. “Okay, there's seven total. One was Tom Riddle's diary - destroyed by Harry in our second year. Two was Salazar Slytherin's ring - destroyed by Dumbledore in the summer before our sixth year. Three, the locket - destroyed according to 'R.A.B.' or at least, soon to be destroyed as the note said. Fourth, Ravenclaw's bronze eagle statue - destroyed by us. Fifth, Hufflepuff’s cup - destroyed by us. That leaves sixth - the snake, that we're almost certain is a horcrux at this point. And seventh - the piece that still resides in Voldemort's body."
"So that means we can go after Vo- You-Know-Who now, then, right?"
"No, Ron, for the last time!" Hermione replied in exasperation. "We can't hunt down Voldemort until we are absolutely certain that we've taken care of all the other horcuxes. And as Harry's already said, he feels unsure about the locket."
"It's just that I swear I've seen it - and not just in the Pensieve. If I could only remember where . . . ." Harry said slowly.'
Draco sighed in annoyance. "I don't know who's dimmer, you Potter, or the Weasel-king there. At this rate the war will never be over."
As usual, the meeting broke into chaos as raucous insults began flying back and forth across the table.
Before Lupin and Arthur Weasley were able to reestablish order, a frantic figure rushed into the room.
At first glance it appeared to be Sylvia Rolyeard, a known, but rather insignificant Death Eater. Rapidly, the portly, sallow-faced, middle-aged witch morphed into Tonks, who gripped the sides of the table and bowed her head as she attempted to catch her breath.
"Hogwarts," she gasped.
Several of the people at the table rose in alarm.
"What is it, Tonks? What did you find out?" Shacklebolt boomed.
"They're going to attack the castle. In full force. Even Voldemort. They're going to kill as many students as they can."
"Oh my God!" exclaimed Hermione, covering her gaping mouth with her hands.
"When Tonks?" asked Arthur urgently.
"Tonight," Tonks choked out.
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