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Chapter One: Protection?
Draco sat in his silk pants watching the dawn that he had waited for all night. He stretched, peeling the bare skin from the back of his chair. Draco’s body ached, not from physical exertion, but mental anguish. After all they had been through this was all he got: a letter. That was supposed to explain what happened between them, and tell him how Potter had entered the picture. She explained that Potter was gone from her life, but once betrayed, always betrayed, Draco thought. For two years they had quick embraces and private moments. When they thought they might try a relationship, things began to fall apart. It was about the time Draco’s father ended up in Azkaban.
“She said I became distant,” Draco remembered telling Goyle. The oaf shrugged and continued eating. “What the Hell does she expect?”
A leaden feeling hit Draco hard in the stomach, and he closed his eyes against the pain. “Think of something else,” he told himself. He put his head in his hands, but found himself staring at her letter. Draco sighed as he read for the thousandth time:
D,
I have to hurry and write this, so forgive me if it lacks any explanation. I do not know what to say besides I am sorry. I have to say that I love you and no one else. He does not matter to me. You do. Unfortunately I have realized there is no way for us to be together without losing everyone else we hold dear. You need to protect your family, as do I. We have never been able to open up to each other. We never will. I promise to always love you.
G
Draco scoffed at the blotched writing in the last sentence. “She had been crying when she wrote that she loved me,” he thought. Somehow it made him feel worse. Draco put his head on the table harder than he meant. “Ow.” It sort made the emotional pain go away, so he did it again, and again, and again.
“That really is not going to help,” Snape observed. “I think it is time we take responsibility for the fiasco at the tower.” He drew his cloak in around himself, stone-faced and cold.
“And what is it you suggest we do? Everyone in the wizarding world is looking for us.”
“We do the only thing we can do. The only thing that makes sense; we go see the Dark Lord.” With every word he seemed to become more distant, bitter.
Snape scanned the table. His eyes grew, and he tried to snatch the parchment lying in front of Draco. Before Snape could reach it, Draco snagged it and began wadding it up. With a quick draw and a flick of his wand Snape was opening the crumpled paper, and Draco was rubbing his stinging hand.
Draco looked frantically for his wand. He grabbed it, and cast the first spell that came to mind. “Incendio!” Flames erupted from the parchment, and Snape dropped the letter. They both watched it curl into flames. He gave Draco a scathing look, and waved his wand wordlessly. Memories flowed in front of Draco’s eyes: he saw Ginny’s laughing face, his mother crying over his father’s imprisonment, Harry kissing Ginny, the night he got his mark, the letter…for a long time the letter, then the night that he kissed—
“NO!” Draco felt himself pushing a solid object against a surface. Slowly the vision of Ginny cleared, and a gagging Snape appeared. Draco held Snape to the wall, choking him. It felt good to release his anger as last. Snape flicked his wand once more, and Draco was thrown across the room.
“You didn’t have to read that, Severus,” Draco spat from the floor. He brought himself slowly to his feet.
A smirk spread onto Snape’s face. “The Dark Lord worries of your alliances, but I shall tell him what truly vexes you is…” His face went sour. “Love.”
Snape turned, and walked out of the room. A moment later he came back in, threw a black traveling cloak over the chair, and said, “We leave in five minutes.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“And then Neville tripped on his bed hangings, and fell off the bed!” Ron laughed so hard his face turned purple, which threw Harry and Hermione into a new round of laughter. Ginny chuckled lightly, and tried thinking of good times at school. The problem was every time she thought of Hogwarts Draco’s face swam before her eyes. She shook her head, and raised the cup of tea to her pale lips.
As the group talked of old school adventures, Ginny tried imagining Draco’s reaction to her letter. She pictured him as cold and cruel, but she wanted to believe that he was upset. Ginny hung her head and sighed. She hoped that Draco was feeling some of the hurt in her heart.
“Gin, you okay?” Harry asked, his smile fading slightly.
“I will be, it’s just…the past couple of months. It is a lot to take in.”
The mood in the room became suddenly serious. Hermione stared at the dregs in the bottom of her cup. “You spend your whole childhood wanting to grow up and have responsibility. Only once you grow up, you cannot go back.”
“Yeah, things used to be so simple,” said Ron.
“They did?” Harry asked. Everyone laughed, but it was rather hollow. “So, we’re getting back to finding the locket then?”
“Are there any rooms left we haven’t searched?” Ginny asked. She was getting rather tired of Grimmauld Place.
“Well, there is the attic, which may take a while. It is still rather messy up there from when Buckbeak and Sirius…” Harry took in a deep breath. “Okay, up to the attic,” he said. A weak smile spread across his face, but it did not quite reach his eyes.
The wood floor was littered with feathers and bones of former meals. “Ugh, it smells disgusting up here,” said Ron, covering his mouth and nose. “Can’t we just have Kreacher come back and clean this up?”
“That would work, Ronald, but he may have taken the locket already. He could have taken it to the Malfoy’s for all we know.”
Harry mumbled something under his breath. “What Harry?” Ginny asked.
Hermione was looking pointedly at him. “Er, nothing.”
For the next five hours the four teenagers cleaned in silence. Ginny was becoming frustrated with Muggle cleaning. “Must be nice to be of age,” she complained.
“Done!” exclaimed Ron. “And no bloody locket.”
“No luck here.”
“Okay, why don’t you two go down and make some food,” Harry said. “I will help Ginny finish up.”
“Alright,” said Ron. Ginny looked at Hermione, pleading wordlessly for her not to go. Ron took Hermione’s arm. “Come on, Hermione.” Unable to say anything, Hermione followed.
Harry squatted down to where Ginny was cleaning, but only spoke after his friends were gone. “Ginny, I can’t let you come with us after we are done here.”
“What do you mean? I—”
“I put off our relationship to protect you, and I would not be doing that if you went to Godric’s Hollow, or if you went to find any of the other Horcruxes. I want you to go back to Hogwarts and learn all you can.”
“But Harry, this may be the best chance I have to do something important.”
“Ginny, it is already bad enough that Hermione and your brother are coming. I do not want you to get hurt. I just…”
“It’s okay, Harry. You are fighting to protect those you love. Remember, though, that I need to do the same. I will not go with you three, but if my life takes me into the dangers of this war, so be it.”
Harry looked at Ginny with a certain amount of fear in his eyes. Ginny gave him a hug and fought back tears that were threatening to stream down her face. Why did it seem everyone who was trying to protect people could only push them away? Even after what Hermione had said, Ginny still wished to be of age. That way she could decide for herself to become a part of the Order.
“Why don’t you go downstairs and eat. I will finish up here,” said Ginny.
“Are you sure you don’t want some help?”
“I will be fine. I could use some thinking time.”
“Okay, see you in a little bit?”
“Sure.” Ginny finished cleaning out the box in front of her. There was no locket, and her stomach began to ache with hunger. The clock on the wall said two hours had passed. She slowly came down the stairs shocked to find everyone still sitting and talking.
“Ginny, we didn’t think you would ever come down!” said Hermione. “Here’s some stew we made, and Ron brought Butterbeer. Would you like one?”
“Yes, thank you.”
The night was filled with discussions of where the locket could be. Ginny sat quietly, knowing that she was no longer able to help. An idea came to her. “What if I could talk to Kreacher at Hogwarts?”
“But, he won’t answer anyone but his master, and only unless I order him to,” said Harry.
“He would be inclined to tell the truth if I was to take an old possession of Mrs. Black’s… something small. Maybe I can find something in his den tomorrow,” said Ginny.
“That’s a good idea, but we already cleaned it out,” said Hermione.
“I will double check tomorrow,” said Ginny. She took the last sip of Butterbeer.
“Okay. We will have Mum come and pick you up, Gin. We’re going to go to Godric’s Hollow before You-Know…Voldemort realizes what we are doing,” said Ron.
“So, we should get packed,” said Harry.
“Oh, Hermione, can I borrow your Defense Against the Dark Arts book? The one from last year.”
“Come on, Gin. Even Hermione wouldn’t carry old schoolbooks—Wait, what am I saying?” asked Ron, shaking his head.
“Of course, and I can show you what I’ve found to be most useful.”
“But, Hermione—” Harry started.
“It is bad enough I can’t help. I want to be prepared for anything,” Ginny said.
“Harry, there is nothing wrong with learning,” Hermione helped.
“Tell that to Slughorn. If it wasn’t for him Voldemort wouldn’t know about Horcruxes.”
“He would have learned it somewhere,” called Hermione as she led Ginny through the other room.
The girls sat on the musty floor going over useful defensive spells and anti-jinxes. Ginny insisted Hermione taught her everything she thought was important. With the candidates running out for Defense of the Dark Arts teacher Ginny was sure the new candidate would be as bad as Lockhart.
Hermione smiled at Ginny’s progress with the concepts of new spells. If only she could try them. Hermione looked at the wall, and was startled that it was three in the morning. “I think we’ll have to quit for tonight,” she said, and then yawned.
“We should do this again tomorrow,” Ginny said, excited. “Oh, I guess we can’t,” she said, her hopes dropping.
“Ginny, we will keep each other safe. I promise.”
“You cannot promise that, Hermione. No one can.”
“Are you worried for Harry? You are still okay with him leaving you to do this, right?”
“Honestly, Hermione, I never was, but I understand why. I only wish I could play a more active role in the war. It is nothing anyone but time can help me with.” It was silent for nearly a minute. “Thank you for the help. Good luck tomorrow. Promise you will keep me posted on what is happening, Hermione. I will try talking to Kreacher once I get to Hogwarts.”
“Of course. Thank you.”
Ginny walked slowly up the stairs. She heard the creaking of floorboards in the hallway ahead. Her hand wrapped around the wand in her pocket. No one should be up here.
“Ginny!”
“Oh, Harry, it’s just you.”
“I—I just wanted to say goodbye.”
“How long have you been up here?”
“A while, but I just wanted to say—”
“Goodbye?”
“Yes.” He gave her a hug and marveled in how wonderful she smelled. Harry left a chaste kiss on her forehead, and hurried down the stairs. Ginny watched him leave, but felt guilty. If only she was that close to Draco.
Draco sat in his silk pants watching the dawn that he had waited for all night. He stretched, peeling the bare skin from the back of his chair. Draco’s body ached, not from physical exertion, but mental anguish. After all they had been through this was all he got: a letter. That was supposed to explain what happened between them, and tell him how Potter had entered the picture. She explained that Potter was gone from her life, but once betrayed, always betrayed, Draco thought. For two years they had quick embraces and private moments. When they thought they might try a relationship, things began to fall apart. It was about the time Draco’s father ended up in Azkaban.
“She said I became distant,” Draco remembered telling Goyle. The oaf shrugged and continued eating. “What the Hell does she expect?”
A leaden feeling hit Draco hard in the stomach, and he closed his eyes against the pain. “Think of something else,” he told himself. He put his head in his hands, but found himself staring at her letter. Draco sighed as he read for the thousandth time:
D,
I have to hurry and write this, so forgive me if it lacks any explanation. I do not know what to say besides I am sorry. I have to say that I love you and no one else. He does not matter to me. You do. Unfortunately I have realized there is no way for us to be together without losing everyone else we hold dear. You need to protect your family, as do I. We have never been able to open up to each other. We never will. I promise to always love you.
G
Draco scoffed at the blotched writing in the last sentence. “She had been crying when she wrote that she loved me,” he thought. Somehow it made him feel worse. Draco put his head on the table harder than he meant. “Ow.” It sort made the emotional pain go away, so he did it again, and again, and again.
“That really is not going to help,” Snape observed. “I think it is time we take responsibility for the fiasco at the tower.” He drew his cloak in around himself, stone-faced and cold.
“And what is it you suggest we do? Everyone in the wizarding world is looking for us.”
“We do the only thing we can do. The only thing that makes sense; we go see the Dark Lord.” With every word he seemed to become more distant, bitter.
Snape scanned the table. His eyes grew, and he tried to snatch the parchment lying in front of Draco. Before Snape could reach it, Draco snagged it and began wadding it up. With a quick draw and a flick of his wand Snape was opening the crumpled paper, and Draco was rubbing his stinging hand.
Draco looked frantically for his wand. He grabbed it, and cast the first spell that came to mind. “Incendio!” Flames erupted from the parchment, and Snape dropped the letter. They both watched it curl into flames. He gave Draco a scathing look, and waved his wand wordlessly. Memories flowed in front of Draco’s eyes: he saw Ginny’s laughing face, his mother crying over his father’s imprisonment, Harry kissing Ginny, the night he got his mark, the letter…for a long time the letter, then the night that he kissed—
“NO!” Draco felt himself pushing a solid object against a surface. Slowly the vision of Ginny cleared, and a gagging Snape appeared. Draco held Snape to the wall, choking him. It felt good to release his anger as last. Snape flicked his wand once more, and Draco was thrown across the room.
“You didn’t have to read that, Severus,” Draco spat from the floor. He brought himself slowly to his feet.
A smirk spread onto Snape’s face. “The Dark Lord worries of your alliances, but I shall tell him what truly vexes you is…” His face went sour. “Love.”
Snape turned, and walked out of the room. A moment later he came back in, threw a black traveling cloak over the chair, and said, “We leave in five minutes.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“And then Neville tripped on his bed hangings, and fell off the bed!” Ron laughed so hard his face turned purple, which threw Harry and Hermione into a new round of laughter. Ginny chuckled lightly, and tried thinking of good times at school. The problem was every time she thought of Hogwarts Draco’s face swam before her eyes. She shook her head, and raised the cup of tea to her pale lips.
As the group talked of old school adventures, Ginny tried imagining Draco’s reaction to her letter. She pictured him as cold and cruel, but she wanted to believe that he was upset. Ginny hung her head and sighed. She hoped that Draco was feeling some of the hurt in her heart.
“Gin, you okay?” Harry asked, his smile fading slightly.
“I will be, it’s just…the past couple of months. It is a lot to take in.”
The mood in the room became suddenly serious. Hermione stared at the dregs in the bottom of her cup. “You spend your whole childhood wanting to grow up and have responsibility. Only once you grow up, you cannot go back.”
“Yeah, things used to be so simple,” said Ron.
“They did?” Harry asked. Everyone laughed, but it was rather hollow. “So, we’re getting back to finding the locket then?”
“Are there any rooms left we haven’t searched?” Ginny asked. She was getting rather tired of Grimmauld Place.
“Well, there is the attic, which may take a while. It is still rather messy up there from when Buckbeak and Sirius…” Harry took in a deep breath. “Okay, up to the attic,” he said. A weak smile spread across his face, but it did not quite reach his eyes.
The wood floor was littered with feathers and bones of former meals. “Ugh, it smells disgusting up here,” said Ron, covering his mouth and nose. “Can’t we just have Kreacher come back and clean this up?”
“That would work, Ronald, but he may have taken the locket already. He could have taken it to the Malfoy’s for all we know.”
Harry mumbled something under his breath. “What Harry?” Ginny asked.
Hermione was looking pointedly at him. “Er, nothing.”
For the next five hours the four teenagers cleaned in silence. Ginny was becoming frustrated with Muggle cleaning. “Must be nice to be of age,” she complained.
“Done!” exclaimed Ron. “And no bloody locket.”
“No luck here.”
“Okay, why don’t you two go down and make some food,” Harry said. “I will help Ginny finish up.”
“Alright,” said Ron. Ginny looked at Hermione, pleading wordlessly for her not to go. Ron took Hermione’s arm. “Come on, Hermione.” Unable to say anything, Hermione followed.
Harry squatted down to where Ginny was cleaning, but only spoke after his friends were gone. “Ginny, I can’t let you come with us after we are done here.”
“What do you mean? I—”
“I put off our relationship to protect you, and I would not be doing that if you went to Godric’s Hollow, or if you went to find any of the other Horcruxes. I want you to go back to Hogwarts and learn all you can.”
“But Harry, this may be the best chance I have to do something important.”
“Ginny, it is already bad enough that Hermione and your brother are coming. I do not want you to get hurt. I just…”
“It’s okay, Harry. You are fighting to protect those you love. Remember, though, that I need to do the same. I will not go with you three, but if my life takes me into the dangers of this war, so be it.”
Harry looked at Ginny with a certain amount of fear in his eyes. Ginny gave him a hug and fought back tears that were threatening to stream down her face. Why did it seem everyone who was trying to protect people could only push them away? Even after what Hermione had said, Ginny still wished to be of age. That way she could decide for herself to become a part of the Order.
“Why don’t you go downstairs and eat. I will finish up here,” said Ginny.
“Are you sure you don’t want some help?”
“I will be fine. I could use some thinking time.”
“Okay, see you in a little bit?”
“Sure.” Ginny finished cleaning out the box in front of her. There was no locket, and her stomach began to ache with hunger. The clock on the wall said two hours had passed. She slowly came down the stairs shocked to find everyone still sitting and talking.
“Ginny, we didn’t think you would ever come down!” said Hermione. “Here’s some stew we made, and Ron brought Butterbeer. Would you like one?”
“Yes, thank you.”
The night was filled with discussions of where the locket could be. Ginny sat quietly, knowing that she was no longer able to help. An idea came to her. “What if I could talk to Kreacher at Hogwarts?”
“But, he won’t answer anyone but his master, and only unless I order him to,” said Harry.
“He would be inclined to tell the truth if I was to take an old possession of Mrs. Black’s… something small. Maybe I can find something in his den tomorrow,” said Ginny.
“That’s a good idea, but we already cleaned it out,” said Hermione.
“I will double check tomorrow,” said Ginny. She took the last sip of Butterbeer.
“Okay. We will have Mum come and pick you up, Gin. We’re going to go to Godric’s Hollow before You-Know…Voldemort realizes what we are doing,” said Ron.
“So, we should get packed,” said Harry.
“Oh, Hermione, can I borrow your Defense Against the Dark Arts book? The one from last year.”
“Come on, Gin. Even Hermione wouldn’t carry old schoolbooks—Wait, what am I saying?” asked Ron, shaking his head.
“Of course, and I can show you what I’ve found to be most useful.”
“But, Hermione—” Harry started.
“It is bad enough I can’t help. I want to be prepared for anything,” Ginny said.
“Harry, there is nothing wrong with learning,” Hermione helped.
“Tell that to Slughorn. If it wasn’t for him Voldemort wouldn’t know about Horcruxes.”
“He would have learned it somewhere,” called Hermione as she led Ginny through the other room.
The girls sat on the musty floor going over useful defensive spells and anti-jinxes. Ginny insisted Hermione taught her everything she thought was important. With the candidates running out for Defense of the Dark Arts teacher Ginny was sure the new candidate would be as bad as Lockhart.
Hermione smiled at Ginny’s progress with the concepts of new spells. If only she could try them. Hermione looked at the wall, and was startled that it was three in the morning. “I think we’ll have to quit for tonight,” she said, and then yawned.
“We should do this again tomorrow,” Ginny said, excited. “Oh, I guess we can’t,” she said, her hopes dropping.
“Ginny, we will keep each other safe. I promise.”
“You cannot promise that, Hermione. No one can.”
“Are you worried for Harry? You are still okay with him leaving you to do this, right?”
“Honestly, Hermione, I never was, but I understand why. I only wish I could play a more active role in the war. It is nothing anyone but time can help me with.” It was silent for nearly a minute. “Thank you for the help. Good luck tomorrow. Promise you will keep me posted on what is happening, Hermione. I will try talking to Kreacher once I get to Hogwarts.”
“Of course. Thank you.”
Ginny walked slowly up the stairs. She heard the creaking of floorboards in the hallway ahead. Her hand wrapped around the wand in her pocket. No one should be up here.
“Ginny!”
“Oh, Harry, it’s just you.”
“I—I just wanted to say goodbye.”
“How long have you been up here?”
“A while, but I just wanted to say—”
“Goodbye?”
“Yes.” He gave her a hug and marveled in how wonderful she smelled. Harry left a chaste kiss on her forehead, and hurried down the stairs. Ginny watched him leave, but felt guilty. If only she was that close to Draco.
To Be Continued.
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