DISCLAIMER: This is the part where I beg the WB lawyers not to hurt me. I’m just a girl with a dream. I’m not making money off of this. I don’t own the characters. I bet they’re hard to care for, anyway.
NOTES: This is the second part of chapter 8 as promised. I’m calling it chapter 9 to make it look like I write more than I do.
* * *
“Do you think He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named knows, Albus?” Minerva McGonagall asked worriedly.
Professor Dumbledore smiled enigmatically from the chair behind his desk. “No.” His reply caused relief in McGonagall. You could tell because she sat just a bit less stiffly in her chair. She knew if Dumbledore said something, then it was true. “You can call him Voldemort, Minerva.”
She shuddered. “Voldemort,” she said cautiously. Dumbledore’s Phoenix, Fawkes, sang out a high note, filling Dumbledore’s office with song. It made McGonagall feel a bit warmer inside and also made the former Headmasters wake up from snoozing in their portraits. They yawned and rubbed the sleep out of their eyes as the professors continued their discussion. “Voldemort,” she said again. “What could Severus possibly find so urgent that he had to return to Hogwarts now?”
Dumbledore looked down at the hastily written owl he had received from Professor Snape just a few moments ago. “I honestly don’t know, Minerva. I’m sure he’ll tell us as soon as he gets here.” That said, he unwrapped a lemon drop and popped into his mouth seemingly unconcerned.
Minvera McGonagall had never been the most patient professor at Hogwarts. She sighed. “The students get back from Easter break next week,” she said reasonably. “He was supposed to stay with V-voldemort until then.” Dumbledore nodded absently, not really listening. He was watching the spinning, silver contraptions on his desk with great interest. She liked to go over the facts they already knew, hoping it would lead to something they hadn’t figured out yet. Dumbledore was content on waiting for Severus to arrive. “If he comes back,” she continued, “then he’ll have to explain to He-Who-Must-No...Voldemort why he was at Hogwarts.” Again, Dumbledore nodded. “He could really put our cause in danger! He could put himself in danger! What if the Dark Lord finds out he’s our spy?”
“Minerva,” Dumbledore said patiently. “Severus knows what he’s doing. And he knows the risks. There is simply no need for panic. Our cause will not be furthered if we lose our cool. You can look over the plans for the Ministry’s defense if you need to occupy your mind until Severus gets here.” He pulled his pocket watch out from his cloak and glanced at the many hands moving around its face. “He should be here any minute now...”
“Headmaster!” called a voice from outside the office.
Dumbledore smiled and McGonagall, his eyes twinkling. “Come in, Severus.”
Even stony Minerva McGonagall nearly fell out of her chair when she saw Severus Snape sweep into the room carrying a tiny, blonde child in his arms. If that weren’t enough the girl was playing with the edges of his robes and singing, “One gift, beauty rare / Gold of sunshine in her hair / Lips that shame the red, red rose / She’ll walk in sunshine wherever she goes!” and Snape seemed unconcerned.
“Is this her, Severus?” McGonagall heard Dumbledore ask from behind her. She wasn’t sure who Dumbledore thought the child was and grateful when Snape explained.
“She’s Voldemort’s heir,” Snape replied, setting the girl down.
The child looked around the circular room curiously, waving at the Headmasters in the paintings. She had never seen such a place! The people in the paintings could move! There were interesting, shiny things all over. The best part was a large scarlet bird that flapped its wings at her. He was very pretty, not like the boring birds she had seen before.
While she examined the place, Snape went on. “They weren’t dead after all. The Dark Lord captured her yesterday. He couldn’t get her to use her powers for him.” Cassie’s giggle interrupted his explanation. Fawkes had hopped down from his perch. She was stroking his head contentedly. “She’s a Seer,” Snape said, looking at Dumbledore for some kind of response.
Dumbledore was nonplussed. He shrugged. “Have you contacted her parents? They will be worried about her.”
For the first time, Cassie looked up at the old man and their eyes met. They regarded each other for a moment. She grinned at him. “You look like Santa,” she exclaimed in an impressed sort of way.
Both other professors stopped to stare at the girl, wondering if she had said something inappropriate. Dumbledore didn’t seem to mind; his eyes twinkled down at her. “He’s one of my heroes.” Cassie grinned and giggled. He turned to McGonagall, who was staring open-mouthed. “Someone will have to go get her parents.” She nodded, knowing that this was his way of assigning her the job to her.
“How will I find them?” she asked. They had been told, by Snape, that Ginny and the baby were dead. That was obviously not the case. “We don’t know where they are.” Inwardly, she worried. It had taken five years for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to find the family.
“I’m sure she’ll be able to tell you,” Dumbledore answered as though this was a simple matter. McGonagall raised her eyebrows. The girl? She was just a child. But Dumbledore didn’t see this as a problem. He swept past McGonagall to chat with Snape, leaving her standing alone next to the little girl who was looking up at her expectantly. (“Hullo,” said Cassie.)
“Severus,” Dumbledore began earnestly, stopping Severus from leaving the office. “You cannot go back there. It’d be wise if you lay low, stay here...”
“Headmaster,” Snape hissed, still trying to sound respectful. “I must go back. The Dark Lord will know I was the spy if I don’t. He’ll know I‘ve told you about the attack on the Ministry and we won‘t be able to ambush them--”
“Severus, I assure you. He’s already noticed your absence. Returning would only mean your death. It wouldn’t help anything.”
“But the plan--!”
“You’ve done enough already.” Dumbledore said in a final sort of way. “It will work.”
“Why would he continue with the attack if he knows you know?” Snape asked desperately.
“Because he’s arrogant, Severus. He thinks he can beat us and he’s wrong.” Dumbledore took a shaky breath of an old man. “Your things are where you left them in the dungeons.” And with that, the subject was closed.
* * *
Draco woke up from his slumber with shooting pains in his back. It hadn’t been wise of him to sleep in such an awkward position on the hard title. He groaned as he sat up. He didn’t know what time it was, but the sun was shining through the crack of the door. It occurred to him that he had absolutely no idea what time, or day for that matter, it was. That thought was completely erased from his mind as he attempted to stand up. It wasn’t just his back having shooting pains anymore, now his legs were doing it too. He wondered why he had left his wand in the other room. That meant in order to ease the pain he had to go out there, with Ginny. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to face her yet. He laid his ear against the door listening for sounds. There weren’t any. Hoping it was safe; he tentatively pushed the door open.
Ginny was wide-awake, sitting on the edge of the bed. Draco was shocked to note that her bags were packed, the beds were made and the room had been cleaned. It looked like she was getting ready to leave! She watched him, unmoving, as he stumbled across the room and grabbed his wand to do a simple healing spell.
“I’m going to find her,” she said suddenly, yet resolutely. She hadn’t thought Draco would be right when he said that things might look better in the morning but the truth was that the morning had brought new clarity to her. Along with that clarity came a new mission.
“Wha?” Draco turned to her, bleary eyed.
“Cassie,” she said firmly. “I can’t just stay here and wallow in it. I need to do something about it. She’s my daughter and I’ll fight for her.” She grinned mirthlessly. She looked as though she’d rather cry. “It’s what Gryffindors do, right?”
Draco folded his arms across his chest and took a good, long look at her. “Then I’m going with you,” he announced.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“I reckon they’re holding down fort at Malfoy Manor still. I’m sure I could sneak in there.” He smirked. “It’s what Slytherins do.”
“And it’s not like we have to fight You-Know-Who,” she stood up, with renewed vigor. “We just have to get her out of there. He took her from us and she didn’t want to go with him. It can’t be that difficult.”
“That’s right,” Draco said thoughtfully. “She won’t cooperate with him. And God help him if he tries to get her to take a bath.” He winked at her.
She smiled; she couldn’t help it. That particular memory of Draco’s first morning with them always brought one to her face. “But still,” she said realistically. “It won’t be easy. The place is probably crawling with Death Eaters.” Her face brightened as an idea occurred to her. “I never went home because they might get Cassie but now they have Cassie so there’s nothing stopping us from getting help!”
Draco pictured a hoard of Weasleys attacking Malfoy Manor, their red hair and wands blazing in the noontime sun. A blonde-haired man appeared in his vision fighting along side the red heads. He wasn’t so keen on hanging around with her family for more than a few moments but if it would help get Cassie back, then he’d do it. “Well as long as Potter isn’t there,” he grumbled.
Ginny giggled. “Why do you hate him so much?”
“He’s easy to hate,” Draco muttered, avoiding her eye. That thought conjured strange memories. His schoolboy grudge reminded him of what it had been like back at Hogwarts.
Then something happened to really make him feel like he really was back at Hogwarts. A distinctive popping sound trumpeted the arrival of a wizard in their room. Both Draco and Ginny turned with their wands at the ready, afraid it might be a Death Eater. They couldn’t have been more surprised to find out who it really was.
“P-professor McGonagall?” Ginny sputtered, her jaw on the floor.
Minerva McGonagall nodded her neatly styled head in greeting. “Mister Malfoy. Miss Weasley.”
* * *
Professor McGonagall was well on her way to where ever Draco and Ginny were hiding out. Severus Snape was in the dungeons, worried that things wouldn’t go smoothly now. He was taking out his frustration by giving detention to any wayward student that stumbled across his path. That left Professor Dumbledore and Cassie alone in his office. She was looking, with great interest, at the whirling, silver contraptions on his desk. She giggled girlishly when one emitted a puff of purple smoke in her face.
He couldn’t help but smile along with her. It had been awhile since he had been around someone quite so young. It reminded him of why he had become a teacher in the first place. Lately, with Voldemort’s return life had lost a bit of its joy. It was disheartening for him to realize that he wasn’t looking at the world with such childlike wonder anymore.
“How old are you?” he asked her curiously.
She grinned proudly and held up five fingers. “But I’m almost,” she held up six fingers. “It’s my birthday soon,” she said happily. She paused and looked at him. “How old are you?” she asked, thinking it must be the polite response to ask him in return.
He chuckled. “I am 186. But I don’t feel a day over 170,” he admitted.
Cassie frowned and looked down at her hands. “Not enough fingers,” she said sadly, thinking it must be terrible to not be able to count your age on your fingers anymore. That meant you were really old. She never wanted to get that old.
“Ah, to be young again,” said Dumbledore fondly.
Just then, the door to the office swung open revealing a rather disgruntled Professor Sibyll Trelawney. Her bangles and other various jewels jangled as she entered. Which was strange since she seemed to float into the room rather than walk. Her large eyes, magnified by her glasses, were the only part of her that moved quickly. They darted around the room, observing everything until they finally landed on Cassie. “So there’s another Seer at Hogwarts,” she whispered in her trademark spooky manner.
Cassie turned to look at Dumbledore, both frightened and amused by this strange, new woman. Dumbledore hid a smile beneath his long beard and mustache. “Hello, Sibyll,” he said pleasantly. “How nice to see you.” It was rare to see her outside of her tower.
“You know I rarely come down into the main castle, Headmaster, but for this...” She continued to stare at Cassie, who squirmed like a bug under a magnifying glass.
“Yes, I hear it clouds your Inner Eye.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled behind his half-moon spectacles.
At this, Cassie’s eyes went as wide as could be. “Ewww!” She scrunched up her face at the idea. Trelawney turned look at her suspiciously, not knowing what she found so repulsive. “How many eyes do you have?” she asked innocently. An inner eye! Gross!
“Are you sure she’s a Seer, Headmaster?” Trelawney asked, put off.
Dumbledore nodded. “It seems that way, Sibyll.”
Trelawney crouched down to get a good look at Cassie, her jewelry making a great deal of noise as she moved. “I sense little aura around you. You must not have very many visions, probably only once in awhile.”
Cassie blinked. “Everyday,” she whispered, feeling bad to be disagreeing with an adult. Her Mummy had taught her manners and that wasn’t nice. But lying wasn’t good either.
The Divination teacher scowled. “Humph,” she grunted, deep in thought. Then as an idea seized her, she reached across Dumbledore’s desk. She grabbed his hand and all but yanked him out of his chair. Such an abrupt movement was out of character for Trelawney and caught Dumbledore quite off guard. She held his hand firmly in place at Cassie’s eye level, making sure that his palm was face up. “What do you see?” she asked.
Cassie looked from Trelawney to Dumbledore, who was winking at her, unsure of what to say. “Er,” she shuffled her feet. Maybe Trelawney was trying to play that game with her. Cassie and her mother had played it when Cassie was much younger. The woman must not know that Cassie was a big girl now. “Hand,” said Cassie proudly. Then she pointed to Dumbledore’s fingers and said: “Fingers.”
Trelawney assumed her misty air again. “You see, Headmaster --” she began as if this were proof that Cassie couldn’t be a true Seer, only to be cut off by the little girl.
Cassie’s eyes had glazed over in the strangest way. She stared ahead at the empty doorframe. Trelawney was about to comment on how she seemed mentally subnormal when Cassie shrugged it off and started to shout. “They’re here! They’re here!”
Sure enough, soon footsteps could be heard from outside. There were people running toward the office. Moments later, Cassie’s disheveled parents appeared. Ginny let out a cry of joy and relief when she saw Cassie. Immediately, both Draco and Ginny had crushed Cassie into a three-person bear hug, wherein none of the three people were distinguishable from the other two. All of them were sobbing and shouting.
“Oh thank God!”
“Mummy! Daddy!”
“We were so worried!”
“Princess!”
“Are you all right?”
“They turned the light off!”
Dumbledore felt a swell of something like pride as he watched them. They had managed to overcome quite a bit in the last six years. Each individual had to endure more than their fair share to get to this very moment. And though, Dumbledore knew, there were still difficult times ahead, they had somehow managed to make it this far, and wouldn’t be alone anymore. It wasn’t good to dwell on the trials the future held, for now, it was time for them to rest.
When the shouting died down, the old man cleared his throat, hesitant to break up their tearful reunion. Three faces turned to him, expecting so many answers that he didn’t have. Instead, he merely said, “Excuse us, Sibyll,” and ushered them out of the round office. Trelawney didn’t know what to make of any of it, and was left standing, confused, in the middle of the room.
“Professor Dumbledore,” Ginny began breathlessly as soon as the door snapped shut behind them, “thank you for looking after Cassie.”
His eyes twinkled behind his half moon spectacles. “My pleasure,” he said, patting Cassie’s head. “I find that being around children keeps me young. Of course, you should know that it was Severus who rescued her from Lord Voldemort. I’ve only spent about an hour with Cassie today.”
“P-professor Snape?” Ginny asked bewilderedly.
“He’s a Death Eater,” Draco whispered in her ear. “He kept MacNair from killing you after Cassie was born.” Then he turned to Dumbledore, and said knowledgeably, “He was their spy.”
“Very true,” Dumbledore answered, pleased Draco had figured it out. It was nice to know that some Hogwarts Head Boys were smarter than others. “You may thank him later, I’m afraid he’s busy sulking in the dungeons at the moment. Please, come with me,” he said cheerily as he turned.
The stairs that lead to Dumbledore’s office were the most unique in all of Hogwarts, and that was saying something. You never had to climb them because they moved up and down on their own, taking you whichever way you wanted to go. Sometimes, if you were in a hurry, they went straight down. Other times, when they were being lazy, they moved in a winding spiral pattern. As the four of them stepped onto the stairs, the staircase began to move in the most roundabout manner possible, making impossibly large circles as it went down. Cassie rather enjoyed it. But instead of taking them to the statue of the gargoyle, as it usually did, the staircase let them off at a tiny door that one would never notice until he was shoved right up in front of it by a moving step. Dumbledore removed a tiny, silver key from his pocket and placed it in the lock, that yawned (it wasn’t used often) and opened up.
The room behind the door lit up as soon as they entered. It was a large, square room with long colorful windows that looked out on the lake. The only furniture was a king sized four-poster bed against one wall and a dresser directly opposite of it. There was another door as well, that led into a room that was obscured by the darkness.
Again, Dumbledore cleared his throat. “This room is traditionally home to the Headmaster’s family. Professor Dippet had it built for his two children. Lovely kids, I was very fond of them. I, however, have very little use for it as I am a confirmed bachelor.”
Ginny was staring at the room in awe. “You mean...?”
“I’m afraid Voldemort’s army is at it’s peak, what with the coming attacks he has planned. As well as you’ve done hopping from place to place, I believe Hogwarts is the safest place for all of you right now. Er- it is, of course, temporary. You’ll no doubt wish to see your families again when the war is over.” His eyes lingered on Ginny’s red hair.
“Wow,” Cassie gaped.
Dumbledore smiled serenely. He pointed to the darkened room. “That room over there is for you.”
Cassie’s mouth fell open. “My own room?” she asked, as if life did not get any better. She dashed across the flat to check it out.
As she disappeared, Dumbledore turned to her parents. “I’ll let you get settled in. I’m sure it’s been a long day; I’ll let you gather your thoughts. I have some other things to attend to.” Within seconds, the staircase had lifted him away, presumably to his office where he could make plans for the next day.
Ginny breathed a huge sigh of relief and collapsed onto the bed, which was the softest she had felt in years. She wasn’t sure to laugh or cry, or to just curl up in a ball and sleep until next week. She hadn’t been properly rested since she had been at Hogwarts as a student. Now she felt safe again, like she could finally relax.
The serenity of the moment didn’t last long, Cassie burst into the room and screamed, “IT’S PINK!” at the top of her lungs then went back into her new room. Draco immediately followed after her, to see what all the fuss was about. Cassie’s room, was indeed, pink. That was perhaps the single best way to describe it. With its pink bed sheets, pink walls and carpeting, it strongly reminded Draco of someone who had eaten too much cotton candy and had to drink Pepto Bismal for the nausea.
“Let’s get our bags and unpack,” he said to Cassie, who was sitting on the bed and looking around in wonderment. He had looked forward to this since he had set out with the girls. His things hadn’t been out of his luggage since that day. Unpacking was a sign of having a permanent place to stay, and he intended to enjoy it.
“Okay,” Cassie replied with a great yawn. She hadn’t slept since the day before and was starting to feel it.
By the time Draco returned with her little, pink bag, which matched her pink room perfectly, Cassie was curled up, half asleep on the bed. He sat down, and stroked her hair. He couldn’t put into words how glad he was that she was back where she belonged. It felt wrong when she was away. That night she had been gone had been like a horrible nightmare, and now it was fading into his memory. He hoped it wouldn’t come back. He couldn’t help but be glad Dumbledore was around. Even a Malfoy had to admit that Voldemort always had been afraid of the old bat. It used to be irritating, but now it was one of the happiest thoughts he could think.
“Cass,” he murmured gently. She looked so peaceful and he didn’t really want to disturb her. “You want your blanket?”
Cassie rolled over. “Don’t be silly, Daddy,” she said sleepily, “there are no monsters here” and then she fell into undisturbed slumber.
* * *
Ginny lay with arms folded staring up at the ceiling. After awhile the four walls seemed to disappear entirely and open up into a circular tunnel of light. She knew, rationally, that the ceiling ended where the floor of Dumbledore’s office began. But with such bright light she couldn’t see where it ended. The light seemed to be coming from everywhere all at once. She felt like she was looking up into the sun; nothing was distinguishable.
It was strange how one’s mind focused on the oddest things when there were important matters at hand. Sometimes all the thoughts were just too much. Her daughter was safe; she should be in there with her. Draco was in there. She had kissed him. She didn’t know how she thought about that. Perhaps her brain was having trouble adjusting from such extreme conditions. So rather than think about it, she stared up at the ceiling. If she wasn’t mistaken, it was getting brighter.
Draco didn’t want to disturb Ginny. She looked serene. It was a pleasant change. Besides, he felt compelled to stay by Cassie’s side, even though he knew she was safe now. He supposed he was trying to compensate for having lost her before. He told himself it didn’t matter that she had been lost, because she was found now. But that wasn’t really true; it was just something to tell himself.
It was peculiar to lie there next to her. She looked like she was his doll, cradled silently in his arms. At that moment, he felt very much like a father. A real one. He got that feeling in flashes every now and again but it rarely stayed with him. He hadn’t had some great epiphany when she was born, like he had imagined it would be. There were just those fleeting moments of brief insight. He wondered if anyone truly accepted the fact that for the rest of their lives they would be responsible for a tiny life. Draco imagined it’d be enough to drive a person mad just imagining all the ways he could screw it up. It was just too much pressure for one man.
He wished she’d wake up. Then he wouldn’t have to be introspective. They could have a staring contest or something of the like.
Cassie was horrible at staring contests. She kept wanting to look another way in case she was missing something important. She never even seemed to like them, but she always wanted to play. It was all they had to occupy their time in their former, hotel life. He didn’t mind; he liked to look at her. He always let her win of course. It was tough, he had an insane desire to win all the time. He had to patiently explain to himself that there was no sport in beating a five-year-old with a short attention span at staring contests.
Oh, how he wished she’d wake up.
* * *
When she did wake up from her nap, Dumbledore quickly appeared inquiring as to whether or not she would like a tour of the castle. They had asked Draco to come along but he quickly declined. Now was a perfect opportunity to speak with Ginny. They really needed to talk. He just wasn’t sure what he needed to say. What was there to say? ‘Sorry I kissed you.’ Yeah, that’d go over well. She’d think he didn’t want to kiss her. But he couldn’t very well be glad it happened in front of her since it had been awkward and untimely.
Still confused, Draco found Ginny in their new flat. He merely stood on the threshold and watched her put clothes into the drawers. He was sure she had already unpacked these items and she was just refolding them in an attempt to find something to do with her hands. She was fidgety. He hadn’t lived with her long but he already knew this wasn’t a sign of good times.
“Nice place, eh?” he said.
She whirled around to face him, startled by his voice. “Yeah,” she agreed breathlessly. “It was very kind of Dumbledore to...” Her voice trailed off and she fixed him with a piercing gaze. “You don’t really think it’s a nice place, do you?” she said skeptically. “You think it’s ‘common’ and that your servants have nicer accommodations.”
He smirked, all but admitting that she was correct. “I was just trying to make pleasant conversation.”
“Why?” She eyed him shrewdly. It was unlike him to be pleasant.
“Because I want to speak with you,” he sighed. She could be so difficult sometimes.
“No,” she said, throwing her hands up and walking away.
He laughed. She was an odd sort. “I can’t speak with you?”
“No,” she said again, suddenly very interested in her folding.
Most people would take a hint and leave, but Draco continued to watch her from the doorframe, trying to understand this strange behavior. He couldn’t figure out what that sweater she was straightening out had that he didn’t. He was very stubborn and wasn’t going to leave until she acknowledged him. Or at least paid him more mind than the sweater.
When it became apparent to Ginny that he wasn’t going to go away, she turned to face him. “Please, go,” she begged in a small voice. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Draco furrowed his brow. “You just want to pretend it never happened?” he asked with a bit more anger than he had intended. He would never understand this woman. She was one of the great mysteries of the world. She wasn’t usually the ‘sweep it under the rug’ type, more the touchy feely ‘let’s talk about it for a few hours’ type.
“I don’t want it to happen again,” she cried desperately. Her tone made Draco think she was referring to something more than just the kiss. Surely it couldn’t be causing her that much distress that her lips had touched his. It wasn’t like it had never happened before. He just couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out what else it could be. He couldn’t help but notice how violently her folding had become and how earnest she was when she said: “I promised myself I wouldn’t let it happen again.”
“Er... let what happen?” he wondered, feeling out of the loop in his own conversation.
Ginny dropped one of her sweaters into the drawer. She stood, staring at herself in the mirror behind the dresser, clearly thinking up the proper response. After a moment’s pause, she sighed resignedly. “I told myself that I was over it; that I’d never fall in love with...” she stopped herself, “someone like you again.” Defeated, she sank to the bed with an audible thump and clasped her hand between her knees. “You’re a lot like him.”
“Excuse me.” Draco said, again feeling like he was butting in on her own private world. “Who?”
“Tom,” she replied simply. Then, realizing Draco was still confused. “Tom Riddle, the boy who became You-Know-Who.”
Draco scowled. “Gee, thanks,” he grumbled. That had ceased being a compliment to him the moment the plan to make him an heir had been hatched. If only she had said that to him at Hogwarts, he would’ve kissed her. Of course, all the kissing was what had gotten them into this troublesome conversation in the first place.
“I don’t mean you’re like You-Know-Who,” she clarified. “Just that you remind me of Tom. You always have,” she added as an afterthought. “He was different back then. Charming, intelligent but still not very nice.”
Sudden realization hit him, as though he had been smacked in the head. “You didn’t like him, did you?”
Ginny laughed dreamily. “Of course I did!” She assumed the higher pitched voice of ten-year-old Ginny. “No one’s ever understood me like you, Tom...I’m so glad I’ve got this diary to confide in... You’re so smart and funny... I wish you were real so I could jump your bones.” Draco felt his eyes go wide. He did hope she hadn’t really said that to Tom Riddle. For his part, he couldn’t think of anything to say in response. Ginny was continuing on, as if he weren’t there. “Ever since then I’ve been telling myself it was just because I was young and foolish.” She shook her head at her own stupidity. “I guess I haven’t changed much,” she said sullenly.
The way she spoke was somehow entrancing to Draco. For a long while now he had wondered about her deeper, private feelings and now she was telling him and they weren’t at all what he had expected. All the comments in his head were held back by the dry feeling in his throat. And still she went on.
“I used to watch you from across the Great Hall when we were at Hogwarts. You were such a bastard.” She smiled at him. “And I hated myself for liking it. It’s not right to be attracted to those things. That’s how you end up half dead in some secret chamber somewhere with giant snakes poised to eat you for breakfast.” It was now very clear to Draco that Ginny’s ordeal with the diary had a far greater impact on her than he had ever imagined. He couldn’t understand why he had never noticed it before. “I’d tell myself, ‘He doesn’t care about you, Ginny. He’d see you and your whole family rot before he’d acknowledge you.’ But I couldn’t help it. It was Tom all over again.” She looked so helpless sitting there, staring up at him with big eyes, almost like she was eleven again.
He watched as blush colored her cheeks. It was only just dawning on her that she had just poured her soul out to Draco Malfoy. She had never told anyone so much. Well, not since...
“Maybe he did like you back though,” Draco observed. Finally he had forced his legs to work so he could sit down next to her on the bed. She pulled away unconsciously as he sat. “Maybe he doesn’t want to see your family rot because he’s sort of a part of it now. He’s the father of your baby.”
“Voldemort is not the father of my baby!” she said fiercely.
Draco chuckled. “I know that.”
Ginny blushed again when she realized her mistake. “Oh,” she whispered and looked away. “Oh,” she said again when a second realization, what he meant, sunk in. She looked up at him with tears and confusion in her eyes. “You like me?” she asked weakly.
He kissed her forehead and nodded. There was a palpable charge in the air. Draco couldn’t believe he had just admitted his feelings. The moment just felt important, like it was one they’d be telling their grandkids about. He tried to think of something romantic to say to her. But all he came up with was: “Ginny, I’d never try to feed you to a giant snake.”
She giggled, breaking the heavy air. “Why, Draco. That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me,” she joked.
* * *
“And this is where your father lived while he was at Hogwarts,” Dumbledore said, as he ushered Cassie into the Slytherin common room. She looked around the room with the same wide, gray eyes she had been looking through since their tour had begun. It had taken nearly all day to show her all the ins and outs of Hogwarts, but Cassie hadn’t gotten bored. There was always something new to grab her attention. She had particularly enjoyed Gryffindor Tower (“Mummy goes here,” she said.) and the Great Hall. She hadn’t liked Sibyll Trelawney’s tower; she said it smelled funny. She hadn’t been enjoying the trip to the dungeons either, until Dumbledore had mentioned that Draco had been a Slytherin.
Cassie bounced across the eerily lit room and made herself comfortable in an overstuffed, green arm chair. She kept looking at particular parts of the room, as if she knew something had happened there, but didn’t feel like sharing. After a few minutes of checking out the place she pulled a face, making her mouth diagonal.
“What’s wrong?” Dumbledore asked curiously.
“Daddy went here,” she observed. “But Mummy was up there,” she pointed up to the ceiling, indicating Gryffindor Tower. Dumbledore nodded. “But they were so far apart!” she wailed, frightened, “That must have been sad.”
The Headmaster’s eyes twinkled. Instead of chuckling at her, he just continued to nod his agreement.
“They should’ve been together...EEP!” She shrieked when a loud tapping on the foggy window scared her. She hid behind the puffy arm of the arm, only her eyes peeked out. “What is it?” she asked worriedly.
Dumbledore floated across the room with much swishing of his cloak. When he opened the window, a burst of wind carried a ruffled owl into the common room. It hooted shrilly and stuck its leg out, offering a letter to Dumbledore. “It’s just owl post, Cassie,” he said, soothingly as he removed the owl’s burden.
She ventured a glance at the hooting owl, bravely exposing her nose as well as her eyes. “Oh.” She blushed cutely, embarrassed at being scared of such a cute, little owl. She had never seen owl post before though. It would take some getting used to.
“Thank you,” Dumbledore said to the owl, which hooted in a dignified sort of way, but remained, flapping its wings above his head. It apparently expected a reply. “It’s from the Ministry,” he thought aloud as he unfolded the piece of paper.
A smile curved his lips as he read the words. This peaked Cassie’s interested. “What is it? What is it?” she asked impatiently, bouncing up and down in the chair. It’s over stuffed cushion acted as a sort of trampoline, sending her even higher into the air than usual.
“It’s from your Grandfather,” he replied finally, folding the letter up again. Cassie frowned, thinking of Lucius Malfoy. Seeing her reaction, Dumbledore clarified. “Your Grandfather Weasley.”
She brightened immediately. “Papa!” she yelped happily.
Dumbledore conjured a piece of parchment and a quill out of thin air. He scrawled, in his loopy writing, an answer on the paper. “He wants to come to Hogwarts, to discuss your mother’s disappearance....” he explained as he wrote. “He doesn’t know you’re here. I won’t tell him in the letter, in case someone else reads it.” Cassie watched inquisitively as he scratched the quill against the paper some more. “I believe it’s best we tell him in person,” Dumbledore announced cheerily as he attached the letter to the ministry owl.
Cassie grinned broadly. “Papa is coming here!?” she squealed. The old man nodded. “Yay!”
In a split second, she was out of her chair and streaking down the corridor. Dumbledore, who was getting on in years, had a hard time keeping up with her. Oh, to be young and be able to climb all the stairs in Hogwarts without breaking a sweat. It was good that her legs were short or else he wouldn’t have been able to keep her in sight. Of course, he knew where she was going: to the apartment under the Headmaster’s office. He came to a halt, panting, in front of the statue of the gargoyle.
Cassie was twisting back and forth mischievously, looking up at the statue as though she could see right through it. She wore a wide, knowing smile as though her birthday had come a few days early. “Can’t go in now,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Why not?” Dumbledore asked, feeling as though, from her reaction, he might already know the answer.
“Mummy and Daddy are kissing,” was her gleeful answer.
*
NOTES: This is the second part of chapter 8 as promised. I’m calling it chapter 9 to make it look like I write more than I do.
* * *
“Do you think He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named knows, Albus?” Minerva McGonagall asked worriedly.
Professor Dumbledore smiled enigmatically from the chair behind his desk. “No.” His reply caused relief in McGonagall. You could tell because she sat just a bit less stiffly in her chair. She knew if Dumbledore said something, then it was true. “You can call him Voldemort, Minerva.”
She shuddered. “Voldemort,” she said cautiously. Dumbledore’s Phoenix, Fawkes, sang out a high note, filling Dumbledore’s office with song. It made McGonagall feel a bit warmer inside and also made the former Headmasters wake up from snoozing in their portraits. They yawned and rubbed the sleep out of their eyes as the professors continued their discussion. “Voldemort,” she said again. “What could Severus possibly find so urgent that he had to return to Hogwarts now?”
Dumbledore looked down at the hastily written owl he had received from Professor Snape just a few moments ago. “I honestly don’t know, Minerva. I’m sure he’ll tell us as soon as he gets here.” That said, he unwrapped a lemon drop and popped into his mouth seemingly unconcerned.
Minvera McGonagall had never been the most patient professor at Hogwarts. She sighed. “The students get back from Easter break next week,” she said reasonably. “He was supposed to stay with V-voldemort until then.” Dumbledore nodded absently, not really listening. He was watching the spinning, silver contraptions on his desk with great interest. She liked to go over the facts they already knew, hoping it would lead to something they hadn’t figured out yet. Dumbledore was content on waiting for Severus to arrive. “If he comes back,” she continued, “then he’ll have to explain to He-Who-Must-No...Voldemort why he was at Hogwarts.” Again, Dumbledore nodded. “He could really put our cause in danger! He could put himself in danger! What if the Dark Lord finds out he’s our spy?”
“Minerva,” Dumbledore said patiently. “Severus knows what he’s doing. And he knows the risks. There is simply no need for panic. Our cause will not be furthered if we lose our cool. You can look over the plans for the Ministry’s defense if you need to occupy your mind until Severus gets here.” He pulled his pocket watch out from his cloak and glanced at the many hands moving around its face. “He should be here any minute now...”
“Headmaster!” called a voice from outside the office.
Dumbledore smiled and McGonagall, his eyes twinkling. “Come in, Severus.”
Even stony Minerva McGonagall nearly fell out of her chair when she saw Severus Snape sweep into the room carrying a tiny, blonde child in his arms. If that weren’t enough the girl was playing with the edges of his robes and singing, “One gift, beauty rare / Gold of sunshine in her hair / Lips that shame the red, red rose / She’ll walk in sunshine wherever she goes!” and Snape seemed unconcerned.
“Is this her, Severus?” McGonagall heard Dumbledore ask from behind her. She wasn’t sure who Dumbledore thought the child was and grateful when Snape explained.
“She’s Voldemort’s heir,” Snape replied, setting the girl down.
The child looked around the circular room curiously, waving at the Headmasters in the paintings. She had never seen such a place! The people in the paintings could move! There were interesting, shiny things all over. The best part was a large scarlet bird that flapped its wings at her. He was very pretty, not like the boring birds she had seen before.
While she examined the place, Snape went on. “They weren’t dead after all. The Dark Lord captured her yesterday. He couldn’t get her to use her powers for him.” Cassie’s giggle interrupted his explanation. Fawkes had hopped down from his perch. She was stroking his head contentedly. “She’s a Seer,” Snape said, looking at Dumbledore for some kind of response.
Dumbledore was nonplussed. He shrugged. “Have you contacted her parents? They will be worried about her.”
For the first time, Cassie looked up at the old man and their eyes met. They regarded each other for a moment. She grinned at him. “You look like Santa,” she exclaimed in an impressed sort of way.
Both other professors stopped to stare at the girl, wondering if she had said something inappropriate. Dumbledore didn’t seem to mind; his eyes twinkled down at her. “He’s one of my heroes.” Cassie grinned and giggled. He turned to McGonagall, who was staring open-mouthed. “Someone will have to go get her parents.” She nodded, knowing that this was his way of assigning her the job to her.
“How will I find them?” she asked. They had been told, by Snape, that Ginny and the baby were dead. That was obviously not the case. “We don’t know where they are.” Inwardly, she worried. It had taken five years for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to find the family.
“I’m sure she’ll be able to tell you,” Dumbledore answered as though this was a simple matter. McGonagall raised her eyebrows. The girl? She was just a child. But Dumbledore didn’t see this as a problem. He swept past McGonagall to chat with Snape, leaving her standing alone next to the little girl who was looking up at her expectantly. (“Hullo,” said Cassie.)
“Severus,” Dumbledore began earnestly, stopping Severus from leaving the office. “You cannot go back there. It’d be wise if you lay low, stay here...”
“Headmaster,” Snape hissed, still trying to sound respectful. “I must go back. The Dark Lord will know I was the spy if I don’t. He’ll know I‘ve told you about the attack on the Ministry and we won‘t be able to ambush them--”
“Severus, I assure you. He’s already noticed your absence. Returning would only mean your death. It wouldn’t help anything.”
“But the plan--!”
“You’ve done enough already.” Dumbledore said in a final sort of way. “It will work.”
“Why would he continue with the attack if he knows you know?” Snape asked desperately.
“Because he’s arrogant, Severus. He thinks he can beat us and he’s wrong.” Dumbledore took a shaky breath of an old man. “Your things are where you left them in the dungeons.” And with that, the subject was closed.
* * *
Draco woke up from his slumber with shooting pains in his back. It hadn’t been wise of him to sleep in such an awkward position on the hard title. He groaned as he sat up. He didn’t know what time it was, but the sun was shining through the crack of the door. It occurred to him that he had absolutely no idea what time, or day for that matter, it was. That thought was completely erased from his mind as he attempted to stand up. It wasn’t just his back having shooting pains anymore, now his legs were doing it too. He wondered why he had left his wand in the other room. That meant in order to ease the pain he had to go out there, with Ginny. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to face her yet. He laid his ear against the door listening for sounds. There weren’t any. Hoping it was safe; he tentatively pushed the door open.
Ginny was wide-awake, sitting on the edge of the bed. Draco was shocked to note that her bags were packed, the beds were made and the room had been cleaned. It looked like she was getting ready to leave! She watched him, unmoving, as he stumbled across the room and grabbed his wand to do a simple healing spell.
“I’m going to find her,” she said suddenly, yet resolutely. She hadn’t thought Draco would be right when he said that things might look better in the morning but the truth was that the morning had brought new clarity to her. Along with that clarity came a new mission.
“Wha?” Draco turned to her, bleary eyed.
“Cassie,” she said firmly. “I can’t just stay here and wallow in it. I need to do something about it. She’s my daughter and I’ll fight for her.” She grinned mirthlessly. She looked as though she’d rather cry. “It’s what Gryffindors do, right?”
Draco folded his arms across his chest and took a good, long look at her. “Then I’m going with you,” he announced.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“I reckon they’re holding down fort at Malfoy Manor still. I’m sure I could sneak in there.” He smirked. “It’s what Slytherins do.”
“And it’s not like we have to fight You-Know-Who,” she stood up, with renewed vigor. “We just have to get her out of there. He took her from us and she didn’t want to go with him. It can’t be that difficult.”
“That’s right,” Draco said thoughtfully. “She won’t cooperate with him. And God help him if he tries to get her to take a bath.” He winked at her.
She smiled; she couldn’t help it. That particular memory of Draco’s first morning with them always brought one to her face. “But still,” she said realistically. “It won’t be easy. The place is probably crawling with Death Eaters.” Her face brightened as an idea occurred to her. “I never went home because they might get Cassie but now they have Cassie so there’s nothing stopping us from getting help!”
Draco pictured a hoard of Weasleys attacking Malfoy Manor, their red hair and wands blazing in the noontime sun. A blonde-haired man appeared in his vision fighting along side the red heads. He wasn’t so keen on hanging around with her family for more than a few moments but if it would help get Cassie back, then he’d do it. “Well as long as Potter isn’t there,” he grumbled.
Ginny giggled. “Why do you hate him so much?”
“He’s easy to hate,” Draco muttered, avoiding her eye. That thought conjured strange memories. His schoolboy grudge reminded him of what it had been like back at Hogwarts.
Then something happened to really make him feel like he really was back at Hogwarts. A distinctive popping sound trumpeted the arrival of a wizard in their room. Both Draco and Ginny turned with their wands at the ready, afraid it might be a Death Eater. They couldn’t have been more surprised to find out who it really was.
“P-professor McGonagall?” Ginny sputtered, her jaw on the floor.
Minerva McGonagall nodded her neatly styled head in greeting. “Mister Malfoy. Miss Weasley.”
* * *
Professor McGonagall was well on her way to where ever Draco and Ginny were hiding out. Severus Snape was in the dungeons, worried that things wouldn’t go smoothly now. He was taking out his frustration by giving detention to any wayward student that stumbled across his path. That left Professor Dumbledore and Cassie alone in his office. She was looking, with great interest, at the whirling, silver contraptions on his desk. She giggled girlishly when one emitted a puff of purple smoke in her face.
He couldn’t help but smile along with her. It had been awhile since he had been around someone quite so young. It reminded him of why he had become a teacher in the first place. Lately, with Voldemort’s return life had lost a bit of its joy. It was disheartening for him to realize that he wasn’t looking at the world with such childlike wonder anymore.
“How old are you?” he asked her curiously.
She grinned proudly and held up five fingers. “But I’m almost,” she held up six fingers. “It’s my birthday soon,” she said happily. She paused and looked at him. “How old are you?” she asked, thinking it must be the polite response to ask him in return.
He chuckled. “I am 186. But I don’t feel a day over 170,” he admitted.
Cassie frowned and looked down at her hands. “Not enough fingers,” she said sadly, thinking it must be terrible to not be able to count your age on your fingers anymore. That meant you were really old. She never wanted to get that old.
“Ah, to be young again,” said Dumbledore fondly.
Just then, the door to the office swung open revealing a rather disgruntled Professor Sibyll Trelawney. Her bangles and other various jewels jangled as she entered. Which was strange since she seemed to float into the room rather than walk. Her large eyes, magnified by her glasses, were the only part of her that moved quickly. They darted around the room, observing everything until they finally landed on Cassie. “So there’s another Seer at Hogwarts,” she whispered in her trademark spooky manner.
Cassie turned to look at Dumbledore, both frightened and amused by this strange, new woman. Dumbledore hid a smile beneath his long beard and mustache. “Hello, Sibyll,” he said pleasantly. “How nice to see you.” It was rare to see her outside of her tower.
“You know I rarely come down into the main castle, Headmaster, but for this...” She continued to stare at Cassie, who squirmed like a bug under a magnifying glass.
“Yes, I hear it clouds your Inner Eye.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled behind his half-moon spectacles.
At this, Cassie’s eyes went as wide as could be. “Ewww!” She scrunched up her face at the idea. Trelawney turned look at her suspiciously, not knowing what she found so repulsive. “How many eyes do you have?” she asked innocently. An inner eye! Gross!
“Are you sure she’s a Seer, Headmaster?” Trelawney asked, put off.
Dumbledore nodded. “It seems that way, Sibyll.”
Trelawney crouched down to get a good look at Cassie, her jewelry making a great deal of noise as she moved. “I sense little aura around you. You must not have very many visions, probably only once in awhile.”
Cassie blinked. “Everyday,” she whispered, feeling bad to be disagreeing with an adult. Her Mummy had taught her manners and that wasn’t nice. But lying wasn’t good either.
The Divination teacher scowled. “Humph,” she grunted, deep in thought. Then as an idea seized her, she reached across Dumbledore’s desk. She grabbed his hand and all but yanked him out of his chair. Such an abrupt movement was out of character for Trelawney and caught Dumbledore quite off guard. She held his hand firmly in place at Cassie’s eye level, making sure that his palm was face up. “What do you see?” she asked.
Cassie looked from Trelawney to Dumbledore, who was winking at her, unsure of what to say. “Er,” she shuffled her feet. Maybe Trelawney was trying to play that game with her. Cassie and her mother had played it when Cassie was much younger. The woman must not know that Cassie was a big girl now. “Hand,” said Cassie proudly. Then she pointed to Dumbledore’s fingers and said: “Fingers.”
Trelawney assumed her misty air again. “You see, Headmaster --” she began as if this were proof that Cassie couldn’t be a true Seer, only to be cut off by the little girl.
Cassie’s eyes had glazed over in the strangest way. She stared ahead at the empty doorframe. Trelawney was about to comment on how she seemed mentally subnormal when Cassie shrugged it off and started to shout. “They’re here! They’re here!”
Sure enough, soon footsteps could be heard from outside. There were people running toward the office. Moments later, Cassie’s disheveled parents appeared. Ginny let out a cry of joy and relief when she saw Cassie. Immediately, both Draco and Ginny had crushed Cassie into a three-person bear hug, wherein none of the three people were distinguishable from the other two. All of them were sobbing and shouting.
“Oh thank God!”
“Mummy! Daddy!”
“We were so worried!”
“Princess!”
“Are you all right?”
“They turned the light off!”
Dumbledore felt a swell of something like pride as he watched them. They had managed to overcome quite a bit in the last six years. Each individual had to endure more than their fair share to get to this very moment. And though, Dumbledore knew, there were still difficult times ahead, they had somehow managed to make it this far, and wouldn’t be alone anymore. It wasn’t good to dwell on the trials the future held, for now, it was time for them to rest.
When the shouting died down, the old man cleared his throat, hesitant to break up their tearful reunion. Three faces turned to him, expecting so many answers that he didn’t have. Instead, he merely said, “Excuse us, Sibyll,” and ushered them out of the round office. Trelawney didn’t know what to make of any of it, and was left standing, confused, in the middle of the room.
“Professor Dumbledore,” Ginny began breathlessly as soon as the door snapped shut behind them, “thank you for looking after Cassie.”
His eyes twinkled behind his half moon spectacles. “My pleasure,” he said, patting Cassie’s head. “I find that being around children keeps me young. Of course, you should know that it was Severus who rescued her from Lord Voldemort. I’ve only spent about an hour with Cassie today.”
“P-professor Snape?” Ginny asked bewilderedly.
“He’s a Death Eater,” Draco whispered in her ear. “He kept MacNair from killing you after Cassie was born.” Then he turned to Dumbledore, and said knowledgeably, “He was their spy.”
“Very true,” Dumbledore answered, pleased Draco had figured it out. It was nice to know that some Hogwarts Head Boys were smarter than others. “You may thank him later, I’m afraid he’s busy sulking in the dungeons at the moment. Please, come with me,” he said cheerily as he turned.
The stairs that lead to Dumbledore’s office were the most unique in all of Hogwarts, and that was saying something. You never had to climb them because they moved up and down on their own, taking you whichever way you wanted to go. Sometimes, if you were in a hurry, they went straight down. Other times, when they were being lazy, they moved in a winding spiral pattern. As the four of them stepped onto the stairs, the staircase began to move in the most roundabout manner possible, making impossibly large circles as it went down. Cassie rather enjoyed it. But instead of taking them to the statue of the gargoyle, as it usually did, the staircase let them off at a tiny door that one would never notice until he was shoved right up in front of it by a moving step. Dumbledore removed a tiny, silver key from his pocket and placed it in the lock, that yawned (it wasn’t used often) and opened up.
The room behind the door lit up as soon as they entered. It was a large, square room with long colorful windows that looked out on the lake. The only furniture was a king sized four-poster bed against one wall and a dresser directly opposite of it. There was another door as well, that led into a room that was obscured by the darkness.
Again, Dumbledore cleared his throat. “This room is traditionally home to the Headmaster’s family. Professor Dippet had it built for his two children. Lovely kids, I was very fond of them. I, however, have very little use for it as I am a confirmed bachelor.”
Ginny was staring at the room in awe. “You mean...?”
“I’m afraid Voldemort’s army is at it’s peak, what with the coming attacks he has planned. As well as you’ve done hopping from place to place, I believe Hogwarts is the safest place for all of you right now. Er- it is, of course, temporary. You’ll no doubt wish to see your families again when the war is over.” His eyes lingered on Ginny’s red hair.
“Wow,” Cassie gaped.
Dumbledore smiled serenely. He pointed to the darkened room. “That room over there is for you.”
Cassie’s mouth fell open. “My own room?” she asked, as if life did not get any better. She dashed across the flat to check it out.
As she disappeared, Dumbledore turned to her parents. “I’ll let you get settled in. I’m sure it’s been a long day; I’ll let you gather your thoughts. I have some other things to attend to.” Within seconds, the staircase had lifted him away, presumably to his office where he could make plans for the next day.
Ginny breathed a huge sigh of relief and collapsed onto the bed, which was the softest she had felt in years. She wasn’t sure to laugh or cry, or to just curl up in a ball and sleep until next week. She hadn’t been properly rested since she had been at Hogwarts as a student. Now she felt safe again, like she could finally relax.
The serenity of the moment didn’t last long, Cassie burst into the room and screamed, “IT’S PINK!” at the top of her lungs then went back into her new room. Draco immediately followed after her, to see what all the fuss was about. Cassie’s room, was indeed, pink. That was perhaps the single best way to describe it. With its pink bed sheets, pink walls and carpeting, it strongly reminded Draco of someone who had eaten too much cotton candy and had to drink Pepto Bismal for the nausea.
“Let’s get our bags and unpack,” he said to Cassie, who was sitting on the bed and looking around in wonderment. He had looked forward to this since he had set out with the girls. His things hadn’t been out of his luggage since that day. Unpacking was a sign of having a permanent place to stay, and he intended to enjoy it.
“Okay,” Cassie replied with a great yawn. She hadn’t slept since the day before and was starting to feel it.
By the time Draco returned with her little, pink bag, which matched her pink room perfectly, Cassie was curled up, half asleep on the bed. He sat down, and stroked her hair. He couldn’t put into words how glad he was that she was back where she belonged. It felt wrong when she was away. That night she had been gone had been like a horrible nightmare, and now it was fading into his memory. He hoped it wouldn’t come back. He couldn’t help but be glad Dumbledore was around. Even a Malfoy had to admit that Voldemort always had been afraid of the old bat. It used to be irritating, but now it was one of the happiest thoughts he could think.
“Cass,” he murmured gently. She looked so peaceful and he didn’t really want to disturb her. “You want your blanket?”
Cassie rolled over. “Don’t be silly, Daddy,” she said sleepily, “there are no monsters here” and then she fell into undisturbed slumber.
* * *
Ginny lay with arms folded staring up at the ceiling. After awhile the four walls seemed to disappear entirely and open up into a circular tunnel of light. She knew, rationally, that the ceiling ended where the floor of Dumbledore’s office began. But with such bright light she couldn’t see where it ended. The light seemed to be coming from everywhere all at once. She felt like she was looking up into the sun; nothing was distinguishable.
It was strange how one’s mind focused on the oddest things when there were important matters at hand. Sometimes all the thoughts were just too much. Her daughter was safe; she should be in there with her. Draco was in there. She had kissed him. She didn’t know how she thought about that. Perhaps her brain was having trouble adjusting from such extreme conditions. So rather than think about it, she stared up at the ceiling. If she wasn’t mistaken, it was getting brighter.
Draco didn’t want to disturb Ginny. She looked serene. It was a pleasant change. Besides, he felt compelled to stay by Cassie’s side, even though he knew she was safe now. He supposed he was trying to compensate for having lost her before. He told himself it didn’t matter that she had been lost, because she was found now. But that wasn’t really true; it was just something to tell himself.
It was peculiar to lie there next to her. She looked like she was his doll, cradled silently in his arms. At that moment, he felt very much like a father. A real one. He got that feeling in flashes every now and again but it rarely stayed with him. He hadn’t had some great epiphany when she was born, like he had imagined it would be. There were just those fleeting moments of brief insight. He wondered if anyone truly accepted the fact that for the rest of their lives they would be responsible for a tiny life. Draco imagined it’d be enough to drive a person mad just imagining all the ways he could screw it up. It was just too much pressure for one man.
He wished she’d wake up. Then he wouldn’t have to be introspective. They could have a staring contest or something of the like.
Cassie was horrible at staring contests. She kept wanting to look another way in case she was missing something important. She never even seemed to like them, but she always wanted to play. It was all they had to occupy their time in their former, hotel life. He didn’t mind; he liked to look at her. He always let her win of course. It was tough, he had an insane desire to win all the time. He had to patiently explain to himself that there was no sport in beating a five-year-old with a short attention span at staring contests.
Oh, how he wished she’d wake up.
* * *
When she did wake up from her nap, Dumbledore quickly appeared inquiring as to whether or not she would like a tour of the castle. They had asked Draco to come along but he quickly declined. Now was a perfect opportunity to speak with Ginny. They really needed to talk. He just wasn’t sure what he needed to say. What was there to say? ‘Sorry I kissed you.’ Yeah, that’d go over well. She’d think he didn’t want to kiss her. But he couldn’t very well be glad it happened in front of her since it had been awkward and untimely.
Still confused, Draco found Ginny in their new flat. He merely stood on the threshold and watched her put clothes into the drawers. He was sure she had already unpacked these items and she was just refolding them in an attempt to find something to do with her hands. She was fidgety. He hadn’t lived with her long but he already knew this wasn’t a sign of good times.
“Nice place, eh?” he said.
She whirled around to face him, startled by his voice. “Yeah,” she agreed breathlessly. “It was very kind of Dumbledore to...” Her voice trailed off and she fixed him with a piercing gaze. “You don’t really think it’s a nice place, do you?” she said skeptically. “You think it’s ‘common’ and that your servants have nicer accommodations.”
He smirked, all but admitting that she was correct. “I was just trying to make pleasant conversation.”
“Why?” She eyed him shrewdly. It was unlike him to be pleasant.
“Because I want to speak with you,” he sighed. She could be so difficult sometimes.
“No,” she said, throwing her hands up and walking away.
He laughed. She was an odd sort. “I can’t speak with you?”
“No,” she said again, suddenly very interested in her folding.
Most people would take a hint and leave, but Draco continued to watch her from the doorframe, trying to understand this strange behavior. He couldn’t figure out what that sweater she was straightening out had that he didn’t. He was very stubborn and wasn’t going to leave until she acknowledged him. Or at least paid him more mind than the sweater.
When it became apparent to Ginny that he wasn’t going to go away, she turned to face him. “Please, go,” she begged in a small voice. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Draco furrowed his brow. “You just want to pretend it never happened?” he asked with a bit more anger than he had intended. He would never understand this woman. She was one of the great mysteries of the world. She wasn’t usually the ‘sweep it under the rug’ type, more the touchy feely ‘let’s talk about it for a few hours’ type.
“I don’t want it to happen again,” she cried desperately. Her tone made Draco think she was referring to something more than just the kiss. Surely it couldn’t be causing her that much distress that her lips had touched his. It wasn’t like it had never happened before. He just couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out what else it could be. He couldn’t help but notice how violently her folding had become and how earnest she was when she said: “I promised myself I wouldn’t let it happen again.”
“Er... let what happen?” he wondered, feeling out of the loop in his own conversation.
Ginny dropped one of her sweaters into the drawer. She stood, staring at herself in the mirror behind the dresser, clearly thinking up the proper response. After a moment’s pause, she sighed resignedly. “I told myself that I was over it; that I’d never fall in love with...” she stopped herself, “someone like you again.” Defeated, she sank to the bed with an audible thump and clasped her hand between her knees. “You’re a lot like him.”
“Excuse me.” Draco said, again feeling like he was butting in on her own private world. “Who?”
“Tom,” she replied simply. Then, realizing Draco was still confused. “Tom Riddle, the boy who became You-Know-Who.”
Draco scowled. “Gee, thanks,” he grumbled. That had ceased being a compliment to him the moment the plan to make him an heir had been hatched. If only she had said that to him at Hogwarts, he would’ve kissed her. Of course, all the kissing was what had gotten them into this troublesome conversation in the first place.
“I don’t mean you’re like You-Know-Who,” she clarified. “Just that you remind me of Tom. You always have,” she added as an afterthought. “He was different back then. Charming, intelligent but still not very nice.”
Sudden realization hit him, as though he had been smacked in the head. “You didn’t like him, did you?”
Ginny laughed dreamily. “Of course I did!” She assumed the higher pitched voice of ten-year-old Ginny. “No one’s ever understood me like you, Tom...I’m so glad I’ve got this diary to confide in... You’re so smart and funny... I wish you were real so I could jump your bones.” Draco felt his eyes go wide. He did hope she hadn’t really said that to Tom Riddle. For his part, he couldn’t think of anything to say in response. Ginny was continuing on, as if he weren’t there. “Ever since then I’ve been telling myself it was just because I was young and foolish.” She shook her head at her own stupidity. “I guess I haven’t changed much,” she said sullenly.
The way she spoke was somehow entrancing to Draco. For a long while now he had wondered about her deeper, private feelings and now she was telling him and they weren’t at all what he had expected. All the comments in his head were held back by the dry feeling in his throat. And still she went on.
“I used to watch you from across the Great Hall when we were at Hogwarts. You were such a bastard.” She smiled at him. “And I hated myself for liking it. It’s not right to be attracted to those things. That’s how you end up half dead in some secret chamber somewhere with giant snakes poised to eat you for breakfast.” It was now very clear to Draco that Ginny’s ordeal with the diary had a far greater impact on her than he had ever imagined. He couldn’t understand why he had never noticed it before. “I’d tell myself, ‘He doesn’t care about you, Ginny. He’d see you and your whole family rot before he’d acknowledge you.’ But I couldn’t help it. It was Tom all over again.” She looked so helpless sitting there, staring up at him with big eyes, almost like she was eleven again.
He watched as blush colored her cheeks. It was only just dawning on her that she had just poured her soul out to Draco Malfoy. She had never told anyone so much. Well, not since...
“Maybe he did like you back though,” Draco observed. Finally he had forced his legs to work so he could sit down next to her on the bed. She pulled away unconsciously as he sat. “Maybe he doesn’t want to see your family rot because he’s sort of a part of it now. He’s the father of your baby.”
“Voldemort is not the father of my baby!” she said fiercely.
Draco chuckled. “I know that.”
Ginny blushed again when she realized her mistake. “Oh,” she whispered and looked away. “Oh,” she said again when a second realization, what he meant, sunk in. She looked up at him with tears and confusion in her eyes. “You like me?” she asked weakly.
He kissed her forehead and nodded. There was a palpable charge in the air. Draco couldn’t believe he had just admitted his feelings. The moment just felt important, like it was one they’d be telling their grandkids about. He tried to think of something romantic to say to her. But all he came up with was: “Ginny, I’d never try to feed you to a giant snake.”
She giggled, breaking the heavy air. “Why, Draco. That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me,” she joked.
* * *
“And this is where your father lived while he was at Hogwarts,” Dumbledore said, as he ushered Cassie into the Slytherin common room. She looked around the room with the same wide, gray eyes she had been looking through since their tour had begun. It had taken nearly all day to show her all the ins and outs of Hogwarts, but Cassie hadn’t gotten bored. There was always something new to grab her attention. She had particularly enjoyed Gryffindor Tower (“Mummy goes here,” she said.) and the Great Hall. She hadn’t liked Sibyll Trelawney’s tower; she said it smelled funny. She hadn’t been enjoying the trip to the dungeons either, until Dumbledore had mentioned that Draco had been a Slytherin.
Cassie bounced across the eerily lit room and made herself comfortable in an overstuffed, green arm chair. She kept looking at particular parts of the room, as if she knew something had happened there, but didn’t feel like sharing. After a few minutes of checking out the place she pulled a face, making her mouth diagonal.
“What’s wrong?” Dumbledore asked curiously.
“Daddy went here,” she observed. “But Mummy was up there,” she pointed up to the ceiling, indicating Gryffindor Tower. Dumbledore nodded. “But they were so far apart!” she wailed, frightened, “That must have been sad.”
The Headmaster’s eyes twinkled. Instead of chuckling at her, he just continued to nod his agreement.
“They should’ve been together...EEP!” She shrieked when a loud tapping on the foggy window scared her. She hid behind the puffy arm of the arm, only her eyes peeked out. “What is it?” she asked worriedly.
Dumbledore floated across the room with much swishing of his cloak. When he opened the window, a burst of wind carried a ruffled owl into the common room. It hooted shrilly and stuck its leg out, offering a letter to Dumbledore. “It’s just owl post, Cassie,” he said, soothingly as he removed the owl’s burden.
She ventured a glance at the hooting owl, bravely exposing her nose as well as her eyes. “Oh.” She blushed cutely, embarrassed at being scared of such a cute, little owl. She had never seen owl post before though. It would take some getting used to.
“Thank you,” Dumbledore said to the owl, which hooted in a dignified sort of way, but remained, flapping its wings above his head. It apparently expected a reply. “It’s from the Ministry,” he thought aloud as he unfolded the piece of paper.
A smile curved his lips as he read the words. This peaked Cassie’s interested. “What is it? What is it?” she asked impatiently, bouncing up and down in the chair. It’s over stuffed cushion acted as a sort of trampoline, sending her even higher into the air than usual.
“It’s from your Grandfather,” he replied finally, folding the letter up again. Cassie frowned, thinking of Lucius Malfoy. Seeing her reaction, Dumbledore clarified. “Your Grandfather Weasley.”
She brightened immediately. “Papa!” she yelped happily.
Dumbledore conjured a piece of parchment and a quill out of thin air. He scrawled, in his loopy writing, an answer on the paper. “He wants to come to Hogwarts, to discuss your mother’s disappearance....” he explained as he wrote. “He doesn’t know you’re here. I won’t tell him in the letter, in case someone else reads it.” Cassie watched inquisitively as he scratched the quill against the paper some more. “I believe it’s best we tell him in person,” Dumbledore announced cheerily as he attached the letter to the ministry owl.
Cassie grinned broadly. “Papa is coming here!?” she squealed. The old man nodded. “Yay!”
In a split second, she was out of her chair and streaking down the corridor. Dumbledore, who was getting on in years, had a hard time keeping up with her. Oh, to be young and be able to climb all the stairs in Hogwarts without breaking a sweat. It was good that her legs were short or else he wouldn’t have been able to keep her in sight. Of course, he knew where she was going: to the apartment under the Headmaster’s office. He came to a halt, panting, in front of the statue of the gargoyle.
Cassie was twisting back and forth mischievously, looking up at the statue as though she could see right through it. She wore a wide, knowing smile as though her birthday had come a few days early. “Can’t go in now,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Why not?” Dumbledore asked, feeling as though, from her reaction, he might already know the answer.
“Mummy and Daddy are kissing,” was her gleeful answer.
*
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