Disclaimer: I only own Haven.
Heroes Shed No Tears
Part IX
Ginny stood out in the small balcony, her eyes were closed and her hands were clasped around the silver dragon pendant that was hanging off of her silver chain. Her fingers tightened and loosened convulsively.
The stars in the black sky seemed to hang lower, like she could reach out and touch their sparkle. The night was cool, a gentle wind was blowing. It seemed a good sign for their departure to Hogwarts the next day.
Ginny opened her eyes and stared up at the sky and sighed.
“Gin?”
She turned and saw Harry standing in the doorway, looking hesitant. His unruly dark hair was falling in his face, into his bright green eyes that seemed out of place in the dark night. She raised an eyebrow, and he stepped onto the balcony, making his way to her.
“I’m sorry,” he broached. “I’m sorry that I tried to keep you here. I should have known that you wouldn’t have wanted to.” He looked at her, his eyes soft and unguarded. “We all just want you to be safe and we’re just keeping you in our best interests. Your brothers especially want to make sure that nothing happens to you, they’ve already suffered so much.”
“I’m tired of suffering,” Ginny said, turning towards him. “I’m ready for this to be over, and I’ll do anything to get rid of it.”
Harry put an arm around her. “I know. We’re going to try our best. I’m sure even Malfoy will.”
“Malfoy,” Ginny repeated quietly under her breath. “How did he get involved with our side anyways? He seemed to be the last person I would ever suspect to cross over to our side.”
“I think it was his son, Haven. He wanted Haven to be safe, and he would have done anything to ensure that he was, so he doubled as an agent for our side. Dumbledore started keeping Haven at Hogwarts during the worst parts of the war. As I understand, he had a special room in the dungeons, away from all of the fighting,” Harry said. “It’s understandable that even a person like Malfoy wouldn’t want his child growing up in the middle of the war. So many of the children in the camps have already lost their childhoods to the war.”
“He changed for Haven,” Ginny murmured. “He really loves Haven,” she mused. “I wonder who his mother is.”
“No one knows, he won’t tell.” Harry said. “It’s late, don’t you think that you should at least try to sleep? We’ve got a full day ahead of us.”
“I suppose,” said Ginny, her hands dropped from the dragon pendant. Harry’s hand on the small of her back guided her inside. “Good night,” she said, and his hand dropped.
“Morning!” Haven crawled onto Ginny’s bed and shook her shoulders gently, trying to get her to wake up. “Wake up, sleepy head. Daddy says that you need to get ready now.”
Ginny cracked open one eye and peered at Haven sleepily. “Huh?”—she was still asleep.
“Remember that you guys are going to Hogwarts today?” Haven asked, cocking his head to the side.
“Oh, yeah,” Ginny mumbled, closing her eye only to open both of them again. She sat up slowly, and rubbed her eyes. They were still bleary and clouded from sleep. “I guess it would be a good idea to wake up then.”
Haven grinned. “Daddy said you need to be ready in an hour.”
“Who sent you to wake me up?”
“Daddy.”
“Where’s everyone else?” She asked.
“They’re in Grammy Ciss’s library. They got up a while ago,” Haven said.
“Why didn’t anyone get me up then?” Ginny asked, a bit angry.
“Potter said that you needed more sleep, that he didn’t want you to be tired.” Haven said in a sort of disdainful voice, sounding as though his father was speaking right through him.
“Just like Harry,” Ginny said, shaking her head.
She got up and shooed Haven from the room so that she could dress. She did so quickly, then rummaged around for her wand in the pockets of her old refugee robes. She found the two broken pieces and looked at them sadly. Despite the fact that she knew she was going to get a new one, she still felt sorry that she had broken this one; it had been a very serviceable wand that had never given her any trouble.
She put the two halves of her ruined wand into her pocket and pulled on her heavy boots, lacing them tightly. She stood and brushed herself off, turning in front of the mirror and pushing at her cheeks.
The person that she saw in the mirror was so different from the one that she had been before the war. The image of her bore little resemblance to the girl—woman—she had been before the war. She was no longer the girl that apprenticed Madam Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts, excited that it was her last year, meaning she would graduate and go to one of the finest Medic schools in Magical Europe on a scholarship paid by Hogwarts. Instead, she saw what she had become, a grim young woman with war wounds evident in her eyes, having seen the all the misery the war had wrought, no longer so naïve and innocent to think everything was going to be okay.
She heaved a sigh and felt a single tear trail down her cheek. She had promised herself there would be no more crying over the war. She had already lost so much in it, there was no need to lose herself as well. She brushed away the tear with hasty finger and left the room, her boots clicking harshly on the floor.
Pushing the door of the library open, she saw the men sitting in various seats all around the library, with the exception of Draco who was sitting on the window seat, separated slightly from everyone else, with Haven sitting in his lap.
“Thanks for waking me,” she said.
“Sorry, Gins,” Harry said, not sounding sorry at all. “We just wanted to make sure that you were really well rested.”
“Speak for yourself,” said Draco. “If we could have woken her two hours ago with everyone else, we could have already been gone. It isn’t good to linger for too long.”
Harry rolled his eyes and chose the ignore Draco’s statement for the most part. “We’re going by this fireplace, Malfoy?”
“Yes, Mother is looking for some Floo Powder. We haven’t needed Floo Powder in a long time, but I know we have some,” said Draco, his hands rubbing Haven’s back soothingly.
Ron was sitting in an arm chair, his jaw set and his mouth in a pout; it was still evident to all that he was fully against any sort of alliance with Draco and that he would feel better as soon as they were away from this place, away from them.
Ron turned, and spoke to Draco, his voice hosting harsh tones. “You’ve been away from your Death Eaters for a long time, Malfoy, won’t they be suspicious?—Little Lucius Junior not living up to his father?”
Draco narrowed his eyes at Ron. “That’s none of your concern, Weasley.” His voice conveyed a different tone when he used ‘Weasley’ for Ron than it did when he used it for Ginny. With Ron is was a loathing sort of tone, used to remind him that he was lower than any Malfoy, and with Ginny, it was detached and indifferent, merely a name that he would call her, refusing to lower his standards and call her by her first name. “You shouldn’t toy with things you don’t know anything about,” he said in a low and dangerous tone. Even Haven was looking at Ron doubtfully.
Ron was ready to snap back at Draco, ready to hurl more insults and comments about Draco’s father, but Ginny looked at him sharply. “Ron,” she said firmly. “You aren’t helping anyone with your foolish comments. Keep them to yourself.”
“She’s right, Ron,” Harry spoke up. “Malfoy hasn’t done anything to prove himself untrustworthy to our side since he’s been helping us.”
“Since when has he been helping us?” Ron asked.
Harry frowned and looked to Draco, who kept his face blank and didn’t say anything. “He’s been with us since the beginning of the war.”
Ron blinked and said very quietly, “Then why did we lose?”
“You can’t win everything,” said Draco. “This is your last chance, this is the Resistance’s last chance. If you can’t win this time, then you never will.” He looked at Harry, “You’ve beaten down Voldemort, but you’ve never destroyed him, you have to do that or everything good will go down and you’ll never be able to dig yourselves out of the hole the Resistance is already in.”
Ginny noticed that Haven was looking up at his father with wide, wet eyes. “Haven,” she spoke softly. “Would you like to go get something to eat? Those—snicker doodles that your father was talking about yesterday?” She held out her hand.
Haven looked to Draco for approval. Draco nodded and helped Haven off of his lap, giving him a gentle push in Ginny’s direction. Haven took her hand and she led him out of the tenseness of the library.
“Why does your brother hate my daddy so much?” Haven asked, his voice quavering faintly.
“My brother holds grudges like no one else, he’s set on the idea that your dad is evil—and he isn’t—and won’t let go.” Ginny said, squeezing Haven’s hand. “But don’t worry about him, my brother isn’t listened to very much anyways, he just tends to ramble about things.”
Haven let out a small giggle and Ginny smiled at him.
They all stood in front of the fire place, Ron and Percy being held up by Fred and George. Haven was holding his father’s hand, listening silently while Draco explained that he couldn’t come, that he would have to stay with Grammy Ciss and that he would be back soon to see him and sent him off.
Draco held the pot of Floo Powder and everyone grabbed a handful of it, Ginny last, taking it slowly, her hands shaking. She held hers, fisted in one hand, and stared in the fire. Harry was going first. She could still feel herself shaking, her hands more than anything else. The thought of going back to Hogwarts, seeing her other brothers, Hermione and everyone she had thought dead was overwhelming, as was the fact that they were now doing something to fight back against the New Ministry, against Voldemort.
Draco took a firm hold of Ginny’s free, shaking hand, stilling it slightly. She glanced up at him and saw that he was looking straight into the fire. His hand was warm and dry—comforting.
Harry threw his powder into the fire and the flames took on a greenish tint. He stepped in and yelled, “Shrieking Shack.” Then sped away, leaving the flames to take on their original orange-red color. Fred and George went one after the other, taking Ron and Percy with them. Then Neville stepped up and went, pinched his eyes shut tight and tucking his elbows in firmly.
Draco and Ginny were the only ones left. Draco squeezed her hand gently. “You go first,” he said.
She looked up at him and turned to give him a quick hug, he blinked and patted her back awkwardly. She threw her powder into the fire and stepped in, feeling the flames convulse hotly around her. “Shrieking Shack,” she shouted. The flames gripped at her and propelled her through the network of fireplaces.
Ginny stumbled out of the fire place and Harry caught her by the arms, pulling her up straight. She looked around the small, dusty room. The only window in the room was boarded up from the outside, the pointy ends of the nails rusty and sticking out dangerously.
Seconds later, Draco came through the fire place with ease. He brushed himself off and looked up at everyone. “Ready?” he asked.
They all nodded and Harry led the way out of the Shrieking Shack to the tunnel that led to the Whomping Willow. He stepped out first and pushed the knob on the tree, stopping the branches and ushered everyone out quickly.
Ginny’s breath caught in her throat as she looked on Hogwarts again. It was the same as she remembered it, everything down to the Quidditch pitch that looked as if it were still used on weekends for games. She looked and saw that Hagrid’s hut had a puff of smoke coming out of its chimney and her lips spread out into a small smile.
A hand touched her arm, she looked up and saw Draco looking at her with a raised eyebrow. “You’ll have enough time for that later,” he said. She nodded and followed him back to the others.
They walked up to the front doors, which were guarded by Aurors. They saw the twins and Harry and opened to doors for them listlessly. Ginny’s boots clicked sharply on the marble floor of the entrance hall, making a cranky Mrs. Norris hiss at her from a dark corner.
“Ginny! Ron! Percy!” Footsteps thundered down the hall as Bill and Charlie ran at them. Within seconds everyone, minus Draco, and Neville who was standing around awkwardly, was engulfed in hugs and kisses.
“Charlie…Bill,” Ginny said with happy tears. She hugged them tightly. “I missed you so much.”
“We missed you too, Gin.” Charlie said, wrapping her up in another hug.
“Ron!” Hermione’s voice was heard screaming. She ran at them and wrapped her arms around Ron, kissing him soundly on the lips. Ginny saw Draco grimace and turn away, she had to put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. Hermione turned to Ginny. “Oh, I’ve missed you all.” She gave Ginny a hug as well.
“I hate to break up the family reunion,” Draco said in voice that made it clear he wasn’t. “But don’t you think that we should inform Dumbledore of the arrivals?”
“He’s right,” Harry agreed. “Let’s go up to see Dumbledore, then we can all catch up.”
They followed Harry up to Dumbledore’s office, and Hermione supplied the password “cauldron cakes.” Ginny felt her lips tugged up in a smile, despite the war Dumbledore had still kept his password contained in the realm of sweets.
As they all crowded into his office, Dumbledore’s wizened face broke into a smile. “I see you all have made it!” he stated happily. “Merlin,” he said, getting out of his chair and hugging the Weasleys that had been at the refugee camp. “It is so wonderful to see you all.” He frowned at Ron and Percy, “What happened with you two?”
“They were bitten by a Shrilist during that attack on Hogsmeade,” said Ginny, “and were infected with ricnophotosis because I didn’t have the proper ingredients to treat the bite.” She looked the Ron and Percy quickly, “Do you think that Professor Snape could brew an anti-ricnophotosis potion?”
Dumbledore raised a hand as if to wave her off. “Of course he can, it is no matter.” He turned to Neville. “Would you mind taking them down?”
“No, sir,” Neville said. He turned and took control of Ron and Percy and steered them out of the door and towards the hospital wing. Ron could be heard muttering under his breath about being left out as the door shut soundly behind them, Neville’s ruefully smiling face lingering in the doorjamb for a moment.
Dumbledore studied them standing before them. “Sit,” he commanded softly, the lightness that had been in his eyes upon their arrival diminishing quickly. “As you all know,” he said as they took seats around his office, “the New Ministry is quite frankly in full power now.” He gave them each a long look, “You might have guessed, despite you not being here,” he looked at Ginny pointedly, “that I had to shut down Hogwarts as a school. It is still open to anyone of the Resistance in need of refuge, but there is no way that it can remain an active learning environment—it has turned into too much of a base for the Resistance.”
His eyes were tired, he rubbed them slowly, thoughtfully, and continued. “If we are to take any action in trying to prevent the New Ministry’s control from spreading any further it has to be done soon—as soon as possible. There is not much time, the number of dark supporters is growing everyday. More and more people are seeing that the Resistance is not as strong as it used to be. Our numbers are dwindling and many of the Aurors sent on missions do not come back. Thankfully we have Mr. Malfoy here. He is helping us more than he sees.” He nodded in Draco’s direction.
Ginny was hoping to see him display some sort of human quality, such as blushing, but he didn’t—his face remained a cool mask and he merely nodded back to their former Headmaster. Harry was sitting in a red armchair, close to Dumbledore’s desk, staring pensively at Fawkes, who was perched on the back of Dumbledore’s chair.
“How long do we have?” he asked quietly. He raised his eyes and glanced at Ginny. His eyes were so hard a small chill ran down her back. She had never seen him look so determined.
Dumbledore let out a low sigh. “Maybe two months. After that…”
Draco spoke up, “After two months you’re all going to die more or less.” Everyone’s eyes turned to him. Everyone but Dumbledore glared. He raised his eyebrows, “It’s true. Everyday Hogwarts’s defenses are deteriorating, and so are the numbers of the Resistance. There simply aren’t enough people willing to die for a just cause.”
Ginny blinked, lowering her eyebrows a bit. Her voice came out softly, trying not to put Draco on the defensive with her question, “Would you?”
His cool gray eyes flicked over to her face. “I support what’s right,” he said simply. Ginny probed his eyes searching for something else. There was nothing. She settled back in her chair and glanced over at Fred and George, who were practically hovering above their chairs. It was obvious they weren’t too comfortable talking about this.
“Anyway,” said Harry. “I think that now, since we have Ginny, Ron, and Percy, we should start planning.”
“You haven’t been planning before now?” Ginny asked, a bit anxiously.
Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “We’ve done vague planning, but we really needed you,” he admitted, “as well as Ron and Percy. You were one of our top healers and Ron was so good at strategy. I guess all those years of chess really paid off, eh?”
Ginny nodded mutely. They were going to have to plan quickly—but since they were going to have to plan quickly it would have to be very precise, and checked over many times. Being too hasty could cause them to fall again; to fall into the hole Draco had said they would never be able to get out of.
“I am sure that you would all like to get settled. We have more time to talk about this later. It is a bit much to hear all at one time,” Dumbledore said gently. “We will talk tomorrow, in the morning.”
Ginny stood and pushed open the door before anyone else. She rushed down the stairs, and through the halls. Her eyes were stinging, she had tried to keep them back but it was so hard. The pressure of everything was finally coming down on her. Her shoulders felt heavy and burdened with the weight of everything the wizarding world had become. She knew that by herself there was nothing that she could do to fix it, but that didn’t help her to stop feeling so awful about it.
She rounded a corner and sped down a familiar dead-ended corridor. She had come here many times when she had still been going to Hogwarts. It was her favorite place in the whole castle. At the end of the hall there was a big window, with a large green cushioned window seat. The window showed the front view of the castle—the lake, Hagrid’s hut, traces of the Forbidden Forest, and if you looked closely enough you could see the outskirts of Hogsmeade.
She settled upon the cushion and swiped at her cheeks with her fingers, pushing the tears away. She closed her eyes and settled back against the stone feeling the coldness seeping through her robes.
She sniffed the air quietly, it had changed. A more masculine smell had invaded her nose. She opened her eyes and saw Draco standing over her. She blinked. “What are you doing here?” she asked bleakly.
“Nice to see you too,” he said dryly. He didn’t say anything else, but looked out the window, his gaze settling over the lake.
Ginny wasn’t going to admit it to herself, but she did feel better now that Draco was there. Just someone else being with her made the weight lighten.
Draco shoved her feet off of the cushion. Ginny glared at him, but he ignored her. He folded his long frame into the confines of the opposite end of the seat gracefully, totally unruffled by the otherwise awkward maneuvering.
“Are you worried any about Haven?” Ginny asked, following his gaze to the lake. There was nothing special about it now, the giant squid hadn’t poked its head out of the waters or anything. But it was tranquil. The water was a deep blue that sat still, no rippling—it looked like glass.
Draco lifted his eyes to hers. “Not especially. That house is well warded,” he said. “My mother is there, I trust her.”
“I didn’t mean to imply that—’’
“I know what you meant, Weasley,” Draco cut in. “It’s fine.” Ginny fell silent and studied his face. It was hard to imagine that the man sitting across from he was the same boy she had known in Hogwarts; the same boy that teased and tormented her family for as long as anyone could remember. “I know I’m good-looking,” Draco’s smug voice sliced into her thoughts, “but you don’t have to stare.”
Ginny snorted derisively. “I was thinking. And it wasn’t about your looks.” She let out a small sigh. “You’re so different.”
He brushed off the comment. “Everyone is different.”
Ginny shook her head. “Not like you. You…you’re not so Malfoyish.”
Draco arched an eyebrow. “Malfoyish?”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. You aren’t all ‘Die Mudbloods, die!’”
Draco’s mouth curved into an ‘o’, but his eyes remained expressionless. “Oh look, Weasley used a grown-up word. My, my, aren’t you growing up fast.”
Ginny rubbed her temples. “I take that back. You did not change. You’re still very much an annoying prat.”
Draco smirked. “Why thank you.”
Ginny shook her head again, “Anytime, Malfoy, anytime.”
“You’ve changed as well,” Draco commented.
“How so?”
“You aren’t the same little mouse that used to hide behind Potter and Gits,” Draco said. His lips spread into an evil grin, and he sang softly: “His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad, his hair is as dark as a blackboard—’’
Ginny smacked her hand over his mouth firmly, giving him a glare that usually made her brothers back off in seconds. He was unfazed. “That,” she said deliberately, “is enough.” She shook her head at his childishness. “I wasn’t myself that year anyways.”
Draco’s eyes flashed oddly. He grasped her wrist and pulled her hand away from his face, but he didn’t let go. “Who were you?” he asked.
“Part Tom,” she said quietly, frowning and looking at Draco’s hand holding hers. “I was never totally in control,” she murmured. She lifted her eyes to his, they were wide and uncertain. She blinked rapidly. She hated thinking about anything that had happened during her first year. It was the worst year of her life, counting all of the ones she spent in war. “T-Tom,” she said hoarsely, “he was becoming me.”
The corner of Draco’s lip twitched. “So he was writing love poems to Potter?”
Ginny couldn’t help but smile. Draco’s eyes flicked down to her lips. Unconsciously, Ginny’s tongue darted out and licked them. Draco’s eyes darkened and he leaned forward—his lips brushing hers ever so gently, like an angel’s wing fluttering over her lips.
Heroes Shed No Tears
Part IX
Ginny stood out in the small balcony, her eyes were closed and her hands were clasped around the silver dragon pendant that was hanging off of her silver chain. Her fingers tightened and loosened convulsively.
The stars in the black sky seemed to hang lower, like she could reach out and touch their sparkle. The night was cool, a gentle wind was blowing. It seemed a good sign for their departure to Hogwarts the next day.
Ginny opened her eyes and stared up at the sky and sighed.
“Gin?”
She turned and saw Harry standing in the doorway, looking hesitant. His unruly dark hair was falling in his face, into his bright green eyes that seemed out of place in the dark night. She raised an eyebrow, and he stepped onto the balcony, making his way to her.
“I’m sorry,” he broached. “I’m sorry that I tried to keep you here. I should have known that you wouldn’t have wanted to.” He looked at her, his eyes soft and unguarded. “We all just want you to be safe and we’re just keeping you in our best interests. Your brothers especially want to make sure that nothing happens to you, they’ve already suffered so much.”
“I’m tired of suffering,” Ginny said, turning towards him. “I’m ready for this to be over, and I’ll do anything to get rid of it.”
Harry put an arm around her. “I know. We’re going to try our best. I’m sure even Malfoy will.”
“Malfoy,” Ginny repeated quietly under her breath. “How did he get involved with our side anyways? He seemed to be the last person I would ever suspect to cross over to our side.”
“I think it was his son, Haven. He wanted Haven to be safe, and he would have done anything to ensure that he was, so he doubled as an agent for our side. Dumbledore started keeping Haven at Hogwarts during the worst parts of the war. As I understand, he had a special room in the dungeons, away from all of the fighting,” Harry said. “It’s understandable that even a person like Malfoy wouldn’t want his child growing up in the middle of the war. So many of the children in the camps have already lost their childhoods to the war.”
“He changed for Haven,” Ginny murmured. “He really loves Haven,” she mused. “I wonder who his mother is.”
“No one knows, he won’t tell.” Harry said. “It’s late, don’t you think that you should at least try to sleep? We’ve got a full day ahead of us.”
“I suppose,” said Ginny, her hands dropped from the dragon pendant. Harry’s hand on the small of her back guided her inside. “Good night,” she said, and his hand dropped.
“Morning!” Haven crawled onto Ginny’s bed and shook her shoulders gently, trying to get her to wake up. “Wake up, sleepy head. Daddy says that you need to get ready now.”
Ginny cracked open one eye and peered at Haven sleepily. “Huh?”—she was still asleep.
“Remember that you guys are going to Hogwarts today?” Haven asked, cocking his head to the side.
“Oh, yeah,” Ginny mumbled, closing her eye only to open both of them again. She sat up slowly, and rubbed her eyes. They were still bleary and clouded from sleep. “I guess it would be a good idea to wake up then.”
Haven grinned. “Daddy said you need to be ready in an hour.”
“Who sent you to wake me up?”
“Daddy.”
“Where’s everyone else?” She asked.
“They’re in Grammy Ciss’s library. They got up a while ago,” Haven said.
“Why didn’t anyone get me up then?” Ginny asked, a bit angry.
“Potter said that you needed more sleep, that he didn’t want you to be tired.” Haven said in a sort of disdainful voice, sounding as though his father was speaking right through him.
“Just like Harry,” Ginny said, shaking her head.
She got up and shooed Haven from the room so that she could dress. She did so quickly, then rummaged around for her wand in the pockets of her old refugee robes. She found the two broken pieces and looked at them sadly. Despite the fact that she knew she was going to get a new one, she still felt sorry that she had broken this one; it had been a very serviceable wand that had never given her any trouble.
She put the two halves of her ruined wand into her pocket and pulled on her heavy boots, lacing them tightly. She stood and brushed herself off, turning in front of the mirror and pushing at her cheeks.
The person that she saw in the mirror was so different from the one that she had been before the war. The image of her bore little resemblance to the girl—woman—she had been before the war. She was no longer the girl that apprenticed Madam Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts, excited that it was her last year, meaning she would graduate and go to one of the finest Medic schools in Magical Europe on a scholarship paid by Hogwarts. Instead, she saw what she had become, a grim young woman with war wounds evident in her eyes, having seen the all the misery the war had wrought, no longer so naïve and innocent to think everything was going to be okay.
She heaved a sigh and felt a single tear trail down her cheek. She had promised herself there would be no more crying over the war. She had already lost so much in it, there was no need to lose herself as well. She brushed away the tear with hasty finger and left the room, her boots clicking harshly on the floor.
Pushing the door of the library open, she saw the men sitting in various seats all around the library, with the exception of Draco who was sitting on the window seat, separated slightly from everyone else, with Haven sitting in his lap.
“Thanks for waking me,” she said.
“Sorry, Gins,” Harry said, not sounding sorry at all. “We just wanted to make sure that you were really well rested.”
“Speak for yourself,” said Draco. “If we could have woken her two hours ago with everyone else, we could have already been gone. It isn’t good to linger for too long.”
Harry rolled his eyes and chose the ignore Draco’s statement for the most part. “We’re going by this fireplace, Malfoy?”
“Yes, Mother is looking for some Floo Powder. We haven’t needed Floo Powder in a long time, but I know we have some,” said Draco, his hands rubbing Haven’s back soothingly.
Ron was sitting in an arm chair, his jaw set and his mouth in a pout; it was still evident to all that he was fully against any sort of alliance with Draco and that he would feel better as soon as they were away from this place, away from them.
Ron turned, and spoke to Draco, his voice hosting harsh tones. “You’ve been away from your Death Eaters for a long time, Malfoy, won’t they be suspicious?—Little Lucius Junior not living up to his father?”
Draco narrowed his eyes at Ron. “That’s none of your concern, Weasley.” His voice conveyed a different tone when he used ‘Weasley’ for Ron than it did when he used it for Ginny. With Ron is was a loathing sort of tone, used to remind him that he was lower than any Malfoy, and with Ginny, it was detached and indifferent, merely a name that he would call her, refusing to lower his standards and call her by her first name. “You shouldn’t toy with things you don’t know anything about,” he said in a low and dangerous tone. Even Haven was looking at Ron doubtfully.
Ron was ready to snap back at Draco, ready to hurl more insults and comments about Draco’s father, but Ginny looked at him sharply. “Ron,” she said firmly. “You aren’t helping anyone with your foolish comments. Keep them to yourself.”
“She’s right, Ron,” Harry spoke up. “Malfoy hasn’t done anything to prove himself untrustworthy to our side since he’s been helping us.”
“Since when has he been helping us?” Ron asked.
Harry frowned and looked to Draco, who kept his face blank and didn’t say anything. “He’s been with us since the beginning of the war.”
Ron blinked and said very quietly, “Then why did we lose?”
“You can’t win everything,” said Draco. “This is your last chance, this is the Resistance’s last chance. If you can’t win this time, then you never will.” He looked at Harry, “You’ve beaten down Voldemort, but you’ve never destroyed him, you have to do that or everything good will go down and you’ll never be able to dig yourselves out of the hole the Resistance is already in.”
Ginny noticed that Haven was looking up at his father with wide, wet eyes. “Haven,” she spoke softly. “Would you like to go get something to eat? Those—snicker doodles that your father was talking about yesterday?” She held out her hand.
Haven looked to Draco for approval. Draco nodded and helped Haven off of his lap, giving him a gentle push in Ginny’s direction. Haven took her hand and she led him out of the tenseness of the library.
“Why does your brother hate my daddy so much?” Haven asked, his voice quavering faintly.
“My brother holds grudges like no one else, he’s set on the idea that your dad is evil—and he isn’t—and won’t let go.” Ginny said, squeezing Haven’s hand. “But don’t worry about him, my brother isn’t listened to very much anyways, he just tends to ramble about things.”
Haven let out a small giggle and Ginny smiled at him.
They all stood in front of the fire place, Ron and Percy being held up by Fred and George. Haven was holding his father’s hand, listening silently while Draco explained that he couldn’t come, that he would have to stay with Grammy Ciss and that he would be back soon to see him and sent him off.
Draco held the pot of Floo Powder and everyone grabbed a handful of it, Ginny last, taking it slowly, her hands shaking. She held hers, fisted in one hand, and stared in the fire. Harry was going first. She could still feel herself shaking, her hands more than anything else. The thought of going back to Hogwarts, seeing her other brothers, Hermione and everyone she had thought dead was overwhelming, as was the fact that they were now doing something to fight back against the New Ministry, against Voldemort.
Draco took a firm hold of Ginny’s free, shaking hand, stilling it slightly. She glanced up at him and saw that he was looking straight into the fire. His hand was warm and dry—comforting.
Harry threw his powder into the fire and the flames took on a greenish tint. He stepped in and yelled, “Shrieking Shack.” Then sped away, leaving the flames to take on their original orange-red color. Fred and George went one after the other, taking Ron and Percy with them. Then Neville stepped up and went, pinched his eyes shut tight and tucking his elbows in firmly.
Draco and Ginny were the only ones left. Draco squeezed her hand gently. “You go first,” he said.
She looked up at him and turned to give him a quick hug, he blinked and patted her back awkwardly. She threw her powder into the fire and stepped in, feeling the flames convulse hotly around her. “Shrieking Shack,” she shouted. The flames gripped at her and propelled her through the network of fireplaces.
Ginny stumbled out of the fire place and Harry caught her by the arms, pulling her up straight. She looked around the small, dusty room. The only window in the room was boarded up from the outside, the pointy ends of the nails rusty and sticking out dangerously.
Seconds later, Draco came through the fire place with ease. He brushed himself off and looked up at everyone. “Ready?” he asked.
They all nodded and Harry led the way out of the Shrieking Shack to the tunnel that led to the Whomping Willow. He stepped out first and pushed the knob on the tree, stopping the branches and ushered everyone out quickly.
Ginny’s breath caught in her throat as she looked on Hogwarts again. It was the same as she remembered it, everything down to the Quidditch pitch that looked as if it were still used on weekends for games. She looked and saw that Hagrid’s hut had a puff of smoke coming out of its chimney and her lips spread out into a small smile.
A hand touched her arm, she looked up and saw Draco looking at her with a raised eyebrow. “You’ll have enough time for that later,” he said. She nodded and followed him back to the others.
They walked up to the front doors, which were guarded by Aurors. They saw the twins and Harry and opened to doors for them listlessly. Ginny’s boots clicked sharply on the marble floor of the entrance hall, making a cranky Mrs. Norris hiss at her from a dark corner.
“Ginny! Ron! Percy!” Footsteps thundered down the hall as Bill and Charlie ran at them. Within seconds everyone, minus Draco, and Neville who was standing around awkwardly, was engulfed in hugs and kisses.
“Charlie…Bill,” Ginny said with happy tears. She hugged them tightly. “I missed you so much.”
“We missed you too, Gin.” Charlie said, wrapping her up in another hug.
“Ron!” Hermione’s voice was heard screaming. She ran at them and wrapped her arms around Ron, kissing him soundly on the lips. Ginny saw Draco grimace and turn away, she had to put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. Hermione turned to Ginny. “Oh, I’ve missed you all.” She gave Ginny a hug as well.
“I hate to break up the family reunion,” Draco said in voice that made it clear he wasn’t. “But don’t you think that we should inform Dumbledore of the arrivals?”
“He’s right,” Harry agreed. “Let’s go up to see Dumbledore, then we can all catch up.”
They followed Harry up to Dumbledore’s office, and Hermione supplied the password “cauldron cakes.” Ginny felt her lips tugged up in a smile, despite the war Dumbledore had still kept his password contained in the realm of sweets.
As they all crowded into his office, Dumbledore’s wizened face broke into a smile. “I see you all have made it!” he stated happily. “Merlin,” he said, getting out of his chair and hugging the Weasleys that had been at the refugee camp. “It is so wonderful to see you all.” He frowned at Ron and Percy, “What happened with you two?”
“They were bitten by a Shrilist during that attack on Hogsmeade,” said Ginny, “and were infected with ricnophotosis because I didn’t have the proper ingredients to treat the bite.” She looked the Ron and Percy quickly, “Do you think that Professor Snape could brew an anti-ricnophotosis potion?”
Dumbledore raised a hand as if to wave her off. “Of course he can, it is no matter.” He turned to Neville. “Would you mind taking them down?”
“No, sir,” Neville said. He turned and took control of Ron and Percy and steered them out of the door and towards the hospital wing. Ron could be heard muttering under his breath about being left out as the door shut soundly behind them, Neville’s ruefully smiling face lingering in the doorjamb for a moment.
Dumbledore studied them standing before them. “Sit,” he commanded softly, the lightness that had been in his eyes upon their arrival diminishing quickly. “As you all know,” he said as they took seats around his office, “the New Ministry is quite frankly in full power now.” He gave them each a long look, “You might have guessed, despite you not being here,” he looked at Ginny pointedly, “that I had to shut down Hogwarts as a school. It is still open to anyone of the Resistance in need of refuge, but there is no way that it can remain an active learning environment—it has turned into too much of a base for the Resistance.”
His eyes were tired, he rubbed them slowly, thoughtfully, and continued. “If we are to take any action in trying to prevent the New Ministry’s control from spreading any further it has to be done soon—as soon as possible. There is not much time, the number of dark supporters is growing everyday. More and more people are seeing that the Resistance is not as strong as it used to be. Our numbers are dwindling and many of the Aurors sent on missions do not come back. Thankfully we have Mr. Malfoy here. He is helping us more than he sees.” He nodded in Draco’s direction.
Ginny was hoping to see him display some sort of human quality, such as blushing, but he didn’t—his face remained a cool mask and he merely nodded back to their former Headmaster. Harry was sitting in a red armchair, close to Dumbledore’s desk, staring pensively at Fawkes, who was perched on the back of Dumbledore’s chair.
“How long do we have?” he asked quietly. He raised his eyes and glanced at Ginny. His eyes were so hard a small chill ran down her back. She had never seen him look so determined.
Dumbledore let out a low sigh. “Maybe two months. After that…”
Draco spoke up, “After two months you’re all going to die more or less.” Everyone’s eyes turned to him. Everyone but Dumbledore glared. He raised his eyebrows, “It’s true. Everyday Hogwarts’s defenses are deteriorating, and so are the numbers of the Resistance. There simply aren’t enough people willing to die for a just cause.”
Ginny blinked, lowering her eyebrows a bit. Her voice came out softly, trying not to put Draco on the defensive with her question, “Would you?”
His cool gray eyes flicked over to her face. “I support what’s right,” he said simply. Ginny probed his eyes searching for something else. There was nothing. She settled back in her chair and glanced over at Fred and George, who were practically hovering above their chairs. It was obvious they weren’t too comfortable talking about this.
“Anyway,” said Harry. “I think that now, since we have Ginny, Ron, and Percy, we should start planning.”
“You haven’t been planning before now?” Ginny asked, a bit anxiously.
Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “We’ve done vague planning, but we really needed you,” he admitted, “as well as Ron and Percy. You were one of our top healers and Ron was so good at strategy. I guess all those years of chess really paid off, eh?”
Ginny nodded mutely. They were going to have to plan quickly—but since they were going to have to plan quickly it would have to be very precise, and checked over many times. Being too hasty could cause them to fall again; to fall into the hole Draco had said they would never be able to get out of.
“I am sure that you would all like to get settled. We have more time to talk about this later. It is a bit much to hear all at one time,” Dumbledore said gently. “We will talk tomorrow, in the morning.”
Ginny stood and pushed open the door before anyone else. She rushed down the stairs, and through the halls. Her eyes were stinging, she had tried to keep them back but it was so hard. The pressure of everything was finally coming down on her. Her shoulders felt heavy and burdened with the weight of everything the wizarding world had become. She knew that by herself there was nothing that she could do to fix it, but that didn’t help her to stop feeling so awful about it.
She rounded a corner and sped down a familiar dead-ended corridor. She had come here many times when she had still been going to Hogwarts. It was her favorite place in the whole castle. At the end of the hall there was a big window, with a large green cushioned window seat. The window showed the front view of the castle—the lake, Hagrid’s hut, traces of the Forbidden Forest, and if you looked closely enough you could see the outskirts of Hogsmeade.
She settled upon the cushion and swiped at her cheeks with her fingers, pushing the tears away. She closed her eyes and settled back against the stone feeling the coldness seeping through her robes.
She sniffed the air quietly, it had changed. A more masculine smell had invaded her nose. She opened her eyes and saw Draco standing over her. She blinked. “What are you doing here?” she asked bleakly.
“Nice to see you too,” he said dryly. He didn’t say anything else, but looked out the window, his gaze settling over the lake.
Ginny wasn’t going to admit it to herself, but she did feel better now that Draco was there. Just someone else being with her made the weight lighten.
Draco shoved her feet off of the cushion. Ginny glared at him, but he ignored her. He folded his long frame into the confines of the opposite end of the seat gracefully, totally unruffled by the otherwise awkward maneuvering.
“Are you worried any about Haven?” Ginny asked, following his gaze to the lake. There was nothing special about it now, the giant squid hadn’t poked its head out of the waters or anything. But it was tranquil. The water was a deep blue that sat still, no rippling—it looked like glass.
Draco lifted his eyes to hers. “Not especially. That house is well warded,” he said. “My mother is there, I trust her.”
“I didn’t mean to imply that—’’
“I know what you meant, Weasley,” Draco cut in. “It’s fine.” Ginny fell silent and studied his face. It was hard to imagine that the man sitting across from he was the same boy she had known in Hogwarts; the same boy that teased and tormented her family for as long as anyone could remember. “I know I’m good-looking,” Draco’s smug voice sliced into her thoughts, “but you don’t have to stare.”
Ginny snorted derisively. “I was thinking. And it wasn’t about your looks.” She let out a small sigh. “You’re so different.”
He brushed off the comment. “Everyone is different.”
Ginny shook her head. “Not like you. You…you’re not so Malfoyish.”
Draco arched an eyebrow. “Malfoyish?”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. You aren’t all ‘Die Mudbloods, die!’”
Draco’s mouth curved into an ‘o’, but his eyes remained expressionless. “Oh look, Weasley used a grown-up word. My, my, aren’t you growing up fast.”
Ginny rubbed her temples. “I take that back. You did not change. You’re still very much an annoying prat.”
Draco smirked. “Why thank you.”
Ginny shook her head again, “Anytime, Malfoy, anytime.”
“You’ve changed as well,” Draco commented.
“How so?”
“You aren’t the same little mouse that used to hide behind Potter and Gits,” Draco said. His lips spread into an evil grin, and he sang softly: “His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad, his hair is as dark as a blackboard—’’
Ginny smacked her hand over his mouth firmly, giving him a glare that usually made her brothers back off in seconds. He was unfazed. “That,” she said deliberately, “is enough.” She shook her head at his childishness. “I wasn’t myself that year anyways.”
Draco’s eyes flashed oddly. He grasped her wrist and pulled her hand away from his face, but he didn’t let go. “Who were you?” he asked.
“Part Tom,” she said quietly, frowning and looking at Draco’s hand holding hers. “I was never totally in control,” she murmured. She lifted her eyes to his, they were wide and uncertain. She blinked rapidly. She hated thinking about anything that had happened during her first year. It was the worst year of her life, counting all of the ones she spent in war. “T-Tom,” she said hoarsely, “he was becoming me.”
The corner of Draco’s lip twitched. “So he was writing love poems to Potter?”
Ginny couldn’t help but smile. Draco’s eyes flicked down to her lips. Unconsciously, Ginny’s tongue darted out and licked them. Draco’s eyes darkened and he leaned forward—his lips brushing hers ever so gently, like an angel’s wing fluttering over her lips.
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