Draco hurried on his way to the Slytherin dungeon, forgoing dinner to have some time alone. All the way there he kept thinking about Dumbledore’s last words. The man was nothing if not mysterious and not-a-little barmy either. Still, Draco was sure those last words meant something. He thought all the way to the common room and murmured the password distractedly.
When he got to his room, he dropped his bag by his trunk and collapsed on his bed, still deep in thought. Hours later, he wasn’t sure of the time only that it was pitch black and eerily quiet, his eyes flew open. I’d fallen asleep, he thought frustratedly and dragged a tired hand over his face. Someone had drawn his hangings closed. Gregory no doubt; he was always doing things like that for Draco. I must remember to say thank you sometime, he thought abstractedly.
All was still when Draco sat up and swung his legs over the side of his four poster bed. He felt for his wand up his sleeve out of habit and performed Warming and Silencing charms before leaving the dormitory. He slipped out, unnoticed by the four other slumberers given up to their dreams.
Draco had never been able to sleep a full night. An insomniac from birth, he was used to nocturnal wanderings and living in the moonlight. This time, however, he had a purpose and, following Dumbledore’s instructions, he headed to the library. Draco cast a Disillusionment charm to ensure he wouldn’t be immediately noticed by any teacher patrolling the corridors. He took pleasure in slipping past Filch’s cat unnoticed and was proud of himself for not kicking her swiftly.
A simple Alohomora unlocked the library door when he arrived and he pushed the creaking thing open with a muffled oath. With all the trouble he’d taken to be silent the damned library door just had to creak. Making a mental note to send an anonymous letter to the school complaining about the lack of lubricated hinges, he went straight to the rows of shelves that dealt with Charms. Hopefully the information he sought wasn’t in the Restricted Section.
As Draco settled in at a table by the window to begin his night of reading, an owl hooted somewhere from the dark depths of night and somewhere in the castle an old man smiled benignly as he watched the immobile dot on an enchanted map.
****
After Draco left the infirmary, Ginny shrugged and got off the bed, scooping up her things before walking to the Gryffindor common room. She went to sleep as soon as she got up to her dormitory, head buzzing with information, implications and half-formed plans.
The next morning she went down to breakfast with new hope in her hearts and a new spring in her step.
When she entered the common room, Lavender Brown accosted her immediately.
“Is it true Malfoy was with you in the Hospital Wing yesterday?”
Ginny stared at the girl coolly. Lavender was known around the school as a tart and a gossip. Depending on her reply, Ginny could be spending the rest of the school year as Draco Malfoy’s love interest or the girl he’d harshly set down. Neither held any shred of truth but thus was the prowess of Hogwarts gossips.
After juggling her conscience and common sense, Ginny decided on the truth. “Yes, he was,” she said simply. Lavender had been watching her intently as if trying to gauge the honesty of her answer. Ginny had no time for such frivolities and she brushed past the girl impatiently only to accosted similarly by her brother and Hermione.
“Malfoy was with you at your examination?” Ron sputtered, all but exploding. Ginny could not bother to play pacifier and rationally calm him down.
“Yes Ron, is there a problem with that?” she asked flippantly.
“I – but – he- WHY?”
“What I think your brother is trying to say, Ginny,” Hermione interrupted “is what was Malfoy doing in the Hospital Wing?”
And that, my dear Hermione, is the million galleon question, Ginny responded silently. She shrugged and said aloud, “I don’t really know; he said Dumbledore invited him.”
Hermione nodded, while Ron grew redder.
“Well?” he demanded.
“Well what, Ron?” Ginny asked innocently.
“What did he do? The slimy git must have some ulterior motive for cornering my baby sister in the infirmary.”
Ginny bristled indignantly. Hermione backed away slowly, motioning frantically to Ron who was too upset to notice the danger he was in.
“Some ulterior motive? What, Ron? He couldn’t just have been there for the pleasure of my company?” Ron opened his mouth to interrupt, but Ginny continued with the force of a tidal wave. “And before you start running your mouth off about your baby sister being cornered by that slimy git, you’d do well to remember that your baby sister BESTED said slimy git not two years ago.”
Even though Ron was a good foot taller than her, he faltered as she glowered menacingly at him, poking his chest to punctuate each word. “What if I told you we were having a rendezvous? Hmm? What if we were seeing each other and he came to the infirmary to check if I was alright? What if he CARED, Ron? What then?”
Ginny was building up her argument and was just about to deliver the crushing blow (a vivid description of her and Malfoy actually getting physical) when Harry descended the boy’s staircase and distracted her by calling her name.
“Ginny!” he called, “You’re back from your exam.”
Way to state the obvious, Harry, Ginny thought sarcastically. On the outside she nodded and smiled as if acutely interested in whatever drivel he had to say now.
“How did it go?” Harry tried and failed for a concerned voice. Ginny tried not to roll her eyes. Harry was more concerned with when he was going to be able to touch (read: grope) and kiss (read: slobber all over) Ginny again. She pasted on her brightest – fakest – smile as he walked over to them.
“Are you alright now? Have they figured it out?” he moved closer to her and spoke sotto voce “Should we go somewhere private?”
Ginny’s insides rebelled immediately, and she wasn’t sure whether it was from Harry’s proximity or his words. Either way she subtly moved away from him, and stood next to Hermione. Harry face fell but only for a moment before he brightened again.
“What were you two arguing about?” he asked Ron, “I could hear Ginny’s voice from upstairs.” He chuckled. “Were you teasing her about her hair again?”
Ginny glared at Harry for bringing up the subject, and then glared at Ron for opening his mouth to answer. She folded her arms across her chest in an intimidating pose and Ron clammed up.
“Is that the way it is then?” Harry asked, his mood darkening.
Ginny looked at him askance before replying, “Yes, Harry, that’s the way it’s going to be.” Now get away from me, you troll, before I throw up all over you.
Harry spun on his heel and left and Ginny’s reaction was far more relieved than when Draco executed the same move.
Unwilling to spend any more time in the stifling, crimson room she said goodbye to Hermione and walked to the Great Hall by herself. As soon as she stepped outside someone rushed past and rudely shoved her. Judging from the stinging pains working their way all down her back; it had been just another daredevil looking for a thrill.
Cursing all male species in fluent Romanian under her breath, she continued to the Great Hall wand gripped so firmly in her grasp that it was shooting red sparks. By the time she reached the doors, she had also developed a slight twitch in her left eye whenever someone looked at her. Boys avoided her even more than usual.
And in this vein, October passed and half of November came and went.
On the nineteenth of the month Draco woke up in the library, it having been his dormitory for the last five weeks. Over this course of time, he had become even more convinced that the answer to Ginny’s illness lay in the clue that Dumbledore had given him. He pored over Charms text after Charms text, hoping to find some link between Professor Flitwick’s topic and Ginny’s condition.
This morning he woke no differently from any other, tired and frustrated. He’d just about exhausted all the texts in the open section. He was reluctant to search the Restricted Section unless he had a clear idea of what he was searching for.
His stomach growled. Sighing, Draco got up and cleared his desk, Disillusioning himself to get to breakfast. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and pushed the Great Hall doors open, blinking in surprise when a figure pushed past him hurriedly and pushed him to the ground in the process. A painful cry brought him back to his senses and he realized he was still Disillusioned.
A few feet away, Ginny Weasley lay clutching her right side, red hair again falling into her face. Didn’t the girl understand the use of a hair band, Draco thought irritably. It was a wonder she could see at all.
“Are you alright?” he asked cautiously, sure he was about to be treated to the same punishment as the blokes that had manhandled her before. He didn’t blame her; it was partially his fault for being practically invisible at the moment.
“Yeah, I’m fine. You just caught me off guard, Draco.”
Draco looked up startled. She was standing above him and her wand wasn’t drawn.
“Are you okay?” she asked. He nodded. “I should have looked where I was going,” she continued, “It’s just that I was trying to get away from Ha– ” she broke off, looking at him suddenly. Draco had a good idea whose name she was about to say.
“Why were you running away from Potter?” he asked, looking her in the eyes. She shifted uneasily.
“I – he was – you know – touching me,” she finished lamely. Draco’s eyes narrowed to slits.
“Potter was touching you?” he asked in a quiet voice. Ginny nodded meekly. “When he knew it hurt you?” Draco continued. Ginny’s expression turned – of all things – mischievous.
“Going to show him what’s for, Draco? Be my knight in shining armour?” she laughed suddenly, confusing Draco even more. “Don’t worry, Malfoy, I’ve already proven my point, I don’t think he’ll be touching me again.”
Draco didn’t comment on the flash of tears he had noticed when she pushed past him earlier. “If you’re sure,” he said slowly. Ginny nodded.
“Well either way, come with me.”
He held out his hand, but Ginny looked at it pointedly.
“Right, of course, how silly of me. Onwards, then.”
Draco followed her into the Great Hall and all eyes swivelled to them. Ginny stood expectantly to one side and watched Draco curiously. He spared her a smirk before walking to the centre of the hall between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. Pointing his wand to his throat, he muttered Sonorus before he could change his mind about the rash move he was about to make. Taking a deep breath, he said in a voice magically magnified,
“Students of the Hogwarts School,” he boomed and paused to glare at Potter “It has come to my attention that the assaults on Ms. Weasley have become more than a nuisance to her and are actually causing her direct harm. I ask the male students to refrain from placing your hands on Ms. Weasley or you won’t have only her hexes to deal with.” Draco avoided Ginny’s gaze. “That said, Ms. Weasley, step forward,” Draco noticed Ginny’s eyes narrowing but she did as he requested.
“In case some of you gits didn’t get it, Ginny Weasley is now under my protection.”
Ginny smirked. “Happy now, you witch?” he whispered to her. “Quite,” she responded and her smirk widened.
Draco smirked back mischievously them took an even deeper breath than before. He gathered all his resolve and knelt in front of her, gritting his teeth to keep from muttering an oath.
“Though, I swear Ginny Weasley, that one day I will be able to touch you.”
He was gratified to see Ginny’s eyes widen in shock and stood up to face her. He ended the Sonorus charm and spoke quietly to her. “Close your mouth, Red, you look like a cold fish. I’ve been doing some research on your illness and I’m sure I’ve got an idea of what’s ailing you.”
Ginny visibly brightened. “Really?” she asked eagerly. Draco nodded then stepped away from her.
“Now I’d better go before your brother decides to demand my blood.” He took off again, leaving Ginny standing with a stupid smile on her face thinking about her silver-blond Slytherin quasi-rescuer.
****
Days slipped into weeks again and Draco delved even deeper into his research. He found that he had to go into the Restricted Section after all but now he had a clear idea of what he was looking for. He had a number of clues to go on. Professor Snape had mentioned an enchantment in Ginny’s blood, Dumbledore had stressed the importance of Flitwick’s Blood Curse lecture. It all fit.
The night of the third or December – or was it the morning of the fourth? – he pulled out a dusty, heavy copy of Ancynt Wyzard Famelys and turned to the index. He scanned the various titles and found the one he sought Conexions: Curses Among. He quickly turned to the page it listed and found a full page photograph of what appeared to be an ancestral Weasley woman scowling at an ancestral and arrogant Malfoy lord on the opposite page.
The caption read:
Of all the family feuds that have sparked blood curses, the Malfoy/Weasley row must be the most frivolous. Imelda Weasley of St. Catchpole, England, was betrothed to the Marquis of Abbeville, Darius Mal Feit, when he caught her in the arms of one of her countrymen, locked in what he assumed to be an amorous embrace. Enraged, he invoked the blood of his family line (it is to be remembered that the Malfoys are an ancynt and powerful bloodline) and cursed Imelda and all her female descendants by cutting off their ability to directly contact the male gender as soon as they had passed their sixteenth summer.
The actual effects of the curse are not certain but it is assumed that it works in a simple enough way with a barrier being created betwixt the Weasley women and all males excepting her family members. According to records, Imelda was an extremely affectionate person and perhaps Dariell sought to strike at her weakest point by eliminating her contact with the opposite sex. As for her descendants, Darius sought to eliminate their contact at the point of their lives when such contact would be most desirable.
Because the Weasley family has borne no females for the past 800 years, it is unknown whether the curse is still in effect or if it has increased in potency with the concentration of time and lack of female blood.
Draco felt relieved, amused and frustrated all at the same time. This was all because of some stupid blood curse that his great-great-great-grandfather placed on Ginny’s ancestor? Well, the Malfoys had always been known to jump to conclusions and Draco wouldn’t be surprised if this ‘amorous embrace’ turned out to be a simple hug.
Still, this information must mean something could be done. If he couldn’t figure something out, Dumbledore might be able to. He quickly copied the paragraph out of the tome and shut it with a deathly thump leaving the scowling pair to an eternity of facing each other in dusty, scowling silence.
It was breaking dawn as Draco raced along the torch lit corridors towards the Headmaster’s office. He pounded fruitlessly on the stone gargoyle for minutes even trying a fruitless Alohomora before giving up and sinking to the ground. A new thought hit him as the sun peeked its first pink light over the horizon. Snape. The Slytherin Head of House was sure to be in his quarters at this time preparing for his fist lesson.
Draco retraced his path and headed down to the dungeons towards the Potions Master’s office. He knocked loudly on the door waiting only a few moments before Snape opened it with an annoyed expression on his face. He looked surprised to see Draco standing in front of him.
“Yes, Mr. Malfoy, this had better be good,” he said, snapping.
“It is, Professor,” Draco gasped out between breaths, “I’ve found out what’s wrong with Ginny.”
Snape’s eyebrows rose into his oily black hair as he regarded the panting student standing outside his door. He swept out of his office in a billow of black robes shutting the door firmly behind him and beckoned to Draco to follow.
“We go to the Headmaster,” he said as he walked quickly along the corridors Draco had just run down.
This time when he arrived at the stone gargoyle Draco waited as Snape muttered the password and they gained entrance to the spiralling staircase. Draco stood behind Snape as the stairs rose, wondering at the reasoning behind this extraordinary circumstance.
Here he was, the Prince of Slytherin on his way to see Dumbledore so they could cure a Weasley. Ah, but it all came down to the Weasley in question. Because Draco could not have resisted such a fiery temper nor such a lively nature bundled together in the tempting package that was Ginny. So here he stood, ascending to his salvation, or his humiliation. But if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that Snape and Dumbledore had had a hand in this interesting turn of events.
“Headmaster, I’ve brought the boy,” Snape said when the entered the odd circular room.
Dumbledore beamed. “Excellent, Severus, I assume he has the information.” Snape nodded briskly.
Draco got the impression that he had unwittingly played a part in some peculiar ritual. “Professor Dumbledore?” he asked curiously.
“Ah, yes, my boy, in time things will become clear to you,” the ancient wizard responded enigmatically.
The man’s full of riddles and puzzles, Draco thought irritably. Didn’t he ever give a straight answer to a question?
“What did you find out, Draco?” Dumbledore asked.
“It was a blood curse,” Draco responded, looking at him closely for any sign of realization.
“Yes,” Dumbledore replied simply, “I had surmised as much.”
“It was cast by the Marquis of Abbeville, my ancestor, on Ginny’s ancestor,” Draco continued.
Dumbledore nodded serenely. Draco was at the end of his tether. “Well this is all dandy,” he burst out impatiently, “but how in the name of Merlin are we supposed to help her with this useless bit of information?”
Dumbledore smiled as his eyes twinkled ceaselessly.
“Mr. Malfoy, do you wish to help Ms. Weasley?” Draco said nothing but glared at the elder man. “Yes, I do,” he answered tersely.
“That is very fortunate because you are the only person who can.” Draco remained silent waiting for Dumbledore to elaborate.
“You see, Mr. Malfoy, when Darius cast the curse, in order to have the power to curse Imelda’s future female descendants, he had to invoke his entire family line. A family line, Mr. Malfoy, which includes you. Through your veins runs the blood of Darius Mal Feit, Marquis of Abbeville and you have the power to undo his curse. That is if you choose to do so.”
Draco was silent, stunned by the information Dumbledore had just revealed. If the barmy codger had known this all along why hadn’t he just told Draco to take it off from the beginning of the term? Because he hated the Weasleys then, Draco thought. He’d hated anyone with red-hair and freckles and would have done his utmost to make the curse worse instead of removing it.
Draco didn’t have to approve of Dumbledore’s methods, but they did get results, so he wouldn’t complain – for now.
“How do I end the curse?” he asked Dumbledore. The older man smiled.
“Extend you wand hand, Mr. Malfoy and we will practice.”
*****
Ginny was eating in the Great Hall at the Ravenclaw table with Luna. Harry and he brother had become very annoying over the past few weeks demanding to know what she had given Malfoy in order for him to defend her. She drew the line at hexing her own family members but was walking on pins and needles so much these days that when Luna had invited her over for breakfast, she had jumped at the chance.
She sat munching on oatmeal and toast and watching the post owls swoop with the boys of Ravenclaw keeping a respectful distance. She liked Ravenclaw boys. With the exception of Michael, the boys were decent and not very grabby. Though that may be because of Draco’s announcement, she thought, smiling.
She didn’t know what had possessed him to take her jesting words in earnest and swear to her in the middle of the Great Hall that he would be able to touch her. Although Ginny didn’t expect him to be able to follow through, a tiny hope inside her knew that Draco Malfoy didn’t renege on promises. It had been an interesting two weeks to say the least, and now she could walk the corridors without having to draw her wand every few paces.
But she hadn’t seen Draco. She hadn’t seen him since the Great Hall declaration. She didn’t think he was avoiding her, just that he was busy. She saw him once at the doors of the library early in the morning and he had looked terrible. His face was drawn and pale and she could see dark circles under his eyes. She’d wanted to reach out to him and hold him and was frustrated that she couldn’t. This damned illness, she had thought furiously swearing that if Draco ever was able to touch her, the first thing she would do was throw him down and snog him thoroughly regardless of who was watching. He looked like he needed it – and truth be told, she needed it too.
The doors swung open and the boy who had been occupying her thoughts all morning walked in, looking just as exhausted as ever but just a bit hopeful. Ginny’s heart sprang to life inside her chest and she smiled at him. He looked around for her, and she waved from the Ravenclaw table getting up to move towards him. Luna waved her on cheerily. At the Gryffindor table, Ron was scowling, Harry glaring and Hermione looked apprehensive. Sod them all she thought, Draco needs someone right now. Behind him, she noticed belatedly, were Professors Snape and Dumbledore.
She looked at Draco confused and he smiled tiredly at her. She moved forward to speak to him quietly.
“I thought you’d be able to touch me by now?” she asked him mischievously.
“Didn’t say I couldn’t,” he responded, smirking. Ginny’s eyes widened as Draco’s hand came up to trace her cheek. She almost flinched, but here it was: his hand on her face, with no pain and no shocks, no feeling except the growing warmth that spread to her toes and make her break out into a happy grin.
She gave a squeal of delight and flung her arms around his shoulders kissing him for all he was worth. And he was worth plenty. His hands clipped around her waist to steady her and he pulled her closer into his embrace. They must have clung together for minutes before Professor Snape cleared his throat noisily and Ginny slipped back into reality. She smiled up at Draco brightly hugging him tight and revelling in the contact that she’d sought for months.
“I’ve wanted this for ages,” she confessed.
“So have I,” Draco admitted quietly. Behind them the boys of all houses and ages erupted in a roar of applause of catcalls.
“You’ll need your wand again, now,” he told her, smirking.
“No matter; hexes are a small price to pay for touching you.” She hugged him again, drawing him closer to her and wondering if she would never ever let go. She’d found someone to chase and be chased by and she would bask in the physical closeness they shared for as long as she liked.
~fin~
When he got to his room, he dropped his bag by his trunk and collapsed on his bed, still deep in thought. Hours later, he wasn’t sure of the time only that it was pitch black and eerily quiet, his eyes flew open. I’d fallen asleep, he thought frustratedly and dragged a tired hand over his face. Someone had drawn his hangings closed. Gregory no doubt; he was always doing things like that for Draco. I must remember to say thank you sometime, he thought abstractedly.
All was still when Draco sat up and swung his legs over the side of his four poster bed. He felt for his wand up his sleeve out of habit and performed Warming and Silencing charms before leaving the dormitory. He slipped out, unnoticed by the four other slumberers given up to their dreams.
Draco had never been able to sleep a full night. An insomniac from birth, he was used to nocturnal wanderings and living in the moonlight. This time, however, he had a purpose and, following Dumbledore’s instructions, he headed to the library. Draco cast a Disillusionment charm to ensure he wouldn’t be immediately noticed by any teacher patrolling the corridors. He took pleasure in slipping past Filch’s cat unnoticed and was proud of himself for not kicking her swiftly.
A simple Alohomora unlocked the library door when he arrived and he pushed the creaking thing open with a muffled oath. With all the trouble he’d taken to be silent the damned library door just had to creak. Making a mental note to send an anonymous letter to the school complaining about the lack of lubricated hinges, he went straight to the rows of shelves that dealt with Charms. Hopefully the information he sought wasn’t in the Restricted Section.
As Draco settled in at a table by the window to begin his night of reading, an owl hooted somewhere from the dark depths of night and somewhere in the castle an old man smiled benignly as he watched the immobile dot on an enchanted map.
****
After Draco left the infirmary, Ginny shrugged and got off the bed, scooping up her things before walking to the Gryffindor common room. She went to sleep as soon as she got up to her dormitory, head buzzing with information, implications and half-formed plans.
The next morning she went down to breakfast with new hope in her hearts and a new spring in her step.
When she entered the common room, Lavender Brown accosted her immediately.
“Is it true Malfoy was with you in the Hospital Wing yesterday?”
Ginny stared at the girl coolly. Lavender was known around the school as a tart and a gossip. Depending on her reply, Ginny could be spending the rest of the school year as Draco Malfoy’s love interest or the girl he’d harshly set down. Neither held any shred of truth but thus was the prowess of Hogwarts gossips.
After juggling her conscience and common sense, Ginny decided on the truth. “Yes, he was,” she said simply. Lavender had been watching her intently as if trying to gauge the honesty of her answer. Ginny had no time for such frivolities and she brushed past the girl impatiently only to accosted similarly by her brother and Hermione.
“Malfoy was with you at your examination?” Ron sputtered, all but exploding. Ginny could not bother to play pacifier and rationally calm him down.
“Yes Ron, is there a problem with that?” she asked flippantly.
“I – but – he- WHY?”
“What I think your brother is trying to say, Ginny,” Hermione interrupted “is what was Malfoy doing in the Hospital Wing?”
And that, my dear Hermione, is the million galleon question, Ginny responded silently. She shrugged and said aloud, “I don’t really know; he said Dumbledore invited him.”
Hermione nodded, while Ron grew redder.
“Well?” he demanded.
“Well what, Ron?” Ginny asked innocently.
“What did he do? The slimy git must have some ulterior motive for cornering my baby sister in the infirmary.”
Ginny bristled indignantly. Hermione backed away slowly, motioning frantically to Ron who was too upset to notice the danger he was in.
“Some ulterior motive? What, Ron? He couldn’t just have been there for the pleasure of my company?” Ron opened his mouth to interrupt, but Ginny continued with the force of a tidal wave. “And before you start running your mouth off about your baby sister being cornered by that slimy git, you’d do well to remember that your baby sister BESTED said slimy git not two years ago.”
Even though Ron was a good foot taller than her, he faltered as she glowered menacingly at him, poking his chest to punctuate each word. “What if I told you we were having a rendezvous? Hmm? What if we were seeing each other and he came to the infirmary to check if I was alright? What if he CARED, Ron? What then?”
Ginny was building up her argument and was just about to deliver the crushing blow (a vivid description of her and Malfoy actually getting physical) when Harry descended the boy’s staircase and distracted her by calling her name.
“Ginny!” he called, “You’re back from your exam.”
Way to state the obvious, Harry, Ginny thought sarcastically. On the outside she nodded and smiled as if acutely interested in whatever drivel he had to say now.
“How did it go?” Harry tried and failed for a concerned voice. Ginny tried not to roll her eyes. Harry was more concerned with when he was going to be able to touch (read: grope) and kiss (read: slobber all over) Ginny again. She pasted on her brightest – fakest – smile as he walked over to them.
“Are you alright now? Have they figured it out?” he moved closer to her and spoke sotto voce “Should we go somewhere private?”
Ginny’s insides rebelled immediately, and she wasn’t sure whether it was from Harry’s proximity or his words. Either way she subtly moved away from him, and stood next to Hermione. Harry face fell but only for a moment before he brightened again.
“What were you two arguing about?” he asked Ron, “I could hear Ginny’s voice from upstairs.” He chuckled. “Were you teasing her about her hair again?”
Ginny glared at Harry for bringing up the subject, and then glared at Ron for opening his mouth to answer. She folded her arms across her chest in an intimidating pose and Ron clammed up.
“Is that the way it is then?” Harry asked, his mood darkening.
Ginny looked at him askance before replying, “Yes, Harry, that’s the way it’s going to be.” Now get away from me, you troll, before I throw up all over you.
Harry spun on his heel and left and Ginny’s reaction was far more relieved than when Draco executed the same move.
Unwilling to spend any more time in the stifling, crimson room she said goodbye to Hermione and walked to the Great Hall by herself. As soon as she stepped outside someone rushed past and rudely shoved her. Judging from the stinging pains working their way all down her back; it had been just another daredevil looking for a thrill.
Cursing all male species in fluent Romanian under her breath, she continued to the Great Hall wand gripped so firmly in her grasp that it was shooting red sparks. By the time she reached the doors, she had also developed a slight twitch in her left eye whenever someone looked at her. Boys avoided her even more than usual.
And in this vein, October passed and half of November came and went.
On the nineteenth of the month Draco woke up in the library, it having been his dormitory for the last five weeks. Over this course of time, he had become even more convinced that the answer to Ginny’s illness lay in the clue that Dumbledore had given him. He pored over Charms text after Charms text, hoping to find some link between Professor Flitwick’s topic and Ginny’s condition.
This morning he woke no differently from any other, tired and frustrated. He’d just about exhausted all the texts in the open section. He was reluctant to search the Restricted Section unless he had a clear idea of what he was searching for.
His stomach growled. Sighing, Draco got up and cleared his desk, Disillusioning himself to get to breakfast. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and pushed the Great Hall doors open, blinking in surprise when a figure pushed past him hurriedly and pushed him to the ground in the process. A painful cry brought him back to his senses and he realized he was still Disillusioned.
A few feet away, Ginny Weasley lay clutching her right side, red hair again falling into her face. Didn’t the girl understand the use of a hair band, Draco thought irritably. It was a wonder she could see at all.
“Are you alright?” he asked cautiously, sure he was about to be treated to the same punishment as the blokes that had manhandled her before. He didn’t blame her; it was partially his fault for being practically invisible at the moment.
“Yeah, I’m fine. You just caught me off guard, Draco.”
Draco looked up startled. She was standing above him and her wand wasn’t drawn.
“Are you okay?” she asked. He nodded. “I should have looked where I was going,” she continued, “It’s just that I was trying to get away from Ha– ” she broke off, looking at him suddenly. Draco had a good idea whose name she was about to say.
“Why were you running away from Potter?” he asked, looking her in the eyes. She shifted uneasily.
“I – he was – you know – touching me,” she finished lamely. Draco’s eyes narrowed to slits.
“Potter was touching you?” he asked in a quiet voice. Ginny nodded meekly. “When he knew it hurt you?” Draco continued. Ginny’s expression turned – of all things – mischievous.
“Going to show him what’s for, Draco? Be my knight in shining armour?” she laughed suddenly, confusing Draco even more. “Don’t worry, Malfoy, I’ve already proven my point, I don’t think he’ll be touching me again.”
Draco didn’t comment on the flash of tears he had noticed when she pushed past him earlier. “If you’re sure,” he said slowly. Ginny nodded.
“Well either way, come with me.”
He held out his hand, but Ginny looked at it pointedly.
“Right, of course, how silly of me. Onwards, then.”
Draco followed her into the Great Hall and all eyes swivelled to them. Ginny stood expectantly to one side and watched Draco curiously. He spared her a smirk before walking to the centre of the hall between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. Pointing his wand to his throat, he muttered Sonorus before he could change his mind about the rash move he was about to make. Taking a deep breath, he said in a voice magically magnified,
“Students of the Hogwarts School,” he boomed and paused to glare at Potter “It has come to my attention that the assaults on Ms. Weasley have become more than a nuisance to her and are actually causing her direct harm. I ask the male students to refrain from placing your hands on Ms. Weasley or you won’t have only her hexes to deal with.” Draco avoided Ginny’s gaze. “That said, Ms. Weasley, step forward,” Draco noticed Ginny’s eyes narrowing but she did as he requested.
“In case some of you gits didn’t get it, Ginny Weasley is now under my protection.”
Ginny smirked. “Happy now, you witch?” he whispered to her. “Quite,” she responded and her smirk widened.
Draco smirked back mischievously them took an even deeper breath than before. He gathered all his resolve and knelt in front of her, gritting his teeth to keep from muttering an oath.
“Though, I swear Ginny Weasley, that one day I will be able to touch you.”
He was gratified to see Ginny’s eyes widen in shock and stood up to face her. He ended the Sonorus charm and spoke quietly to her. “Close your mouth, Red, you look like a cold fish. I’ve been doing some research on your illness and I’m sure I’ve got an idea of what’s ailing you.”
Ginny visibly brightened. “Really?” she asked eagerly. Draco nodded then stepped away from her.
“Now I’d better go before your brother decides to demand my blood.” He took off again, leaving Ginny standing with a stupid smile on her face thinking about her silver-blond Slytherin quasi-rescuer.
****
Days slipped into weeks again and Draco delved even deeper into his research. He found that he had to go into the Restricted Section after all but now he had a clear idea of what he was looking for. He had a number of clues to go on. Professor Snape had mentioned an enchantment in Ginny’s blood, Dumbledore had stressed the importance of Flitwick’s Blood Curse lecture. It all fit.
The night of the third or December – or was it the morning of the fourth? – he pulled out a dusty, heavy copy of Ancynt Wyzard Famelys and turned to the index. He scanned the various titles and found the one he sought Conexions: Curses Among. He quickly turned to the page it listed and found a full page photograph of what appeared to be an ancestral Weasley woman scowling at an ancestral and arrogant Malfoy lord on the opposite page.
The caption read:
Of all the family feuds that have sparked blood curses, the Malfoy/Weasley row must be the most frivolous. Imelda Weasley of St. Catchpole, England, was betrothed to the Marquis of Abbeville, Darius Mal Feit, when he caught her in the arms of one of her countrymen, locked in what he assumed to be an amorous embrace. Enraged, he invoked the blood of his family line (it is to be remembered that the Malfoys are an ancynt and powerful bloodline) and cursed Imelda and all her female descendants by cutting off their ability to directly contact the male gender as soon as they had passed their sixteenth summer.
The actual effects of the curse are not certain but it is assumed that it works in a simple enough way with a barrier being created betwixt the Weasley women and all males excepting her family members. According to records, Imelda was an extremely affectionate person and perhaps Dariell sought to strike at her weakest point by eliminating her contact with the opposite sex. As for her descendants, Darius sought to eliminate their contact at the point of their lives when such contact would be most desirable.
Because the Weasley family has borne no females for the past 800 years, it is unknown whether the curse is still in effect or if it has increased in potency with the concentration of time and lack of female blood.
Draco felt relieved, amused and frustrated all at the same time. This was all because of some stupid blood curse that his great-great-great-grandfather placed on Ginny’s ancestor? Well, the Malfoys had always been known to jump to conclusions and Draco wouldn’t be surprised if this ‘amorous embrace’ turned out to be a simple hug.
Still, this information must mean something could be done. If he couldn’t figure something out, Dumbledore might be able to. He quickly copied the paragraph out of the tome and shut it with a deathly thump leaving the scowling pair to an eternity of facing each other in dusty, scowling silence.
It was breaking dawn as Draco raced along the torch lit corridors towards the Headmaster’s office. He pounded fruitlessly on the stone gargoyle for minutes even trying a fruitless Alohomora before giving up and sinking to the ground. A new thought hit him as the sun peeked its first pink light over the horizon. Snape. The Slytherin Head of House was sure to be in his quarters at this time preparing for his fist lesson.
Draco retraced his path and headed down to the dungeons towards the Potions Master’s office. He knocked loudly on the door waiting only a few moments before Snape opened it with an annoyed expression on his face. He looked surprised to see Draco standing in front of him.
“Yes, Mr. Malfoy, this had better be good,” he said, snapping.
“It is, Professor,” Draco gasped out between breaths, “I’ve found out what’s wrong with Ginny.”
Snape’s eyebrows rose into his oily black hair as he regarded the panting student standing outside his door. He swept out of his office in a billow of black robes shutting the door firmly behind him and beckoned to Draco to follow.
“We go to the Headmaster,” he said as he walked quickly along the corridors Draco had just run down.
This time when he arrived at the stone gargoyle Draco waited as Snape muttered the password and they gained entrance to the spiralling staircase. Draco stood behind Snape as the stairs rose, wondering at the reasoning behind this extraordinary circumstance.
Here he was, the Prince of Slytherin on his way to see Dumbledore so they could cure a Weasley. Ah, but it all came down to the Weasley in question. Because Draco could not have resisted such a fiery temper nor such a lively nature bundled together in the tempting package that was Ginny. So here he stood, ascending to his salvation, or his humiliation. But if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that Snape and Dumbledore had had a hand in this interesting turn of events.
“Headmaster, I’ve brought the boy,” Snape said when the entered the odd circular room.
Dumbledore beamed. “Excellent, Severus, I assume he has the information.” Snape nodded briskly.
Draco got the impression that he had unwittingly played a part in some peculiar ritual. “Professor Dumbledore?” he asked curiously.
“Ah, yes, my boy, in time things will become clear to you,” the ancient wizard responded enigmatically.
The man’s full of riddles and puzzles, Draco thought irritably. Didn’t he ever give a straight answer to a question?
“What did you find out, Draco?” Dumbledore asked.
“It was a blood curse,” Draco responded, looking at him closely for any sign of realization.
“Yes,” Dumbledore replied simply, “I had surmised as much.”
“It was cast by the Marquis of Abbeville, my ancestor, on Ginny’s ancestor,” Draco continued.
Dumbledore nodded serenely. Draco was at the end of his tether. “Well this is all dandy,” he burst out impatiently, “but how in the name of Merlin are we supposed to help her with this useless bit of information?”
Dumbledore smiled as his eyes twinkled ceaselessly.
“Mr. Malfoy, do you wish to help Ms. Weasley?” Draco said nothing but glared at the elder man. “Yes, I do,” he answered tersely.
“That is very fortunate because you are the only person who can.” Draco remained silent waiting for Dumbledore to elaborate.
“You see, Mr. Malfoy, when Darius cast the curse, in order to have the power to curse Imelda’s future female descendants, he had to invoke his entire family line. A family line, Mr. Malfoy, which includes you. Through your veins runs the blood of Darius Mal Feit, Marquis of Abbeville and you have the power to undo his curse. That is if you choose to do so.”
Draco was silent, stunned by the information Dumbledore had just revealed. If the barmy codger had known this all along why hadn’t he just told Draco to take it off from the beginning of the term? Because he hated the Weasleys then, Draco thought. He’d hated anyone with red-hair and freckles and would have done his utmost to make the curse worse instead of removing it.
Draco didn’t have to approve of Dumbledore’s methods, but they did get results, so he wouldn’t complain – for now.
“How do I end the curse?” he asked Dumbledore. The older man smiled.
“Extend you wand hand, Mr. Malfoy and we will practice.”
*****
Ginny was eating in the Great Hall at the Ravenclaw table with Luna. Harry and he brother had become very annoying over the past few weeks demanding to know what she had given Malfoy in order for him to defend her. She drew the line at hexing her own family members but was walking on pins and needles so much these days that when Luna had invited her over for breakfast, she had jumped at the chance.
She sat munching on oatmeal and toast and watching the post owls swoop with the boys of Ravenclaw keeping a respectful distance. She liked Ravenclaw boys. With the exception of Michael, the boys were decent and not very grabby. Though that may be because of Draco’s announcement, she thought, smiling.
She didn’t know what had possessed him to take her jesting words in earnest and swear to her in the middle of the Great Hall that he would be able to touch her. Although Ginny didn’t expect him to be able to follow through, a tiny hope inside her knew that Draco Malfoy didn’t renege on promises. It had been an interesting two weeks to say the least, and now she could walk the corridors without having to draw her wand every few paces.
But she hadn’t seen Draco. She hadn’t seen him since the Great Hall declaration. She didn’t think he was avoiding her, just that he was busy. She saw him once at the doors of the library early in the morning and he had looked terrible. His face was drawn and pale and she could see dark circles under his eyes. She’d wanted to reach out to him and hold him and was frustrated that she couldn’t. This damned illness, she had thought furiously swearing that if Draco ever was able to touch her, the first thing she would do was throw him down and snog him thoroughly regardless of who was watching. He looked like he needed it – and truth be told, she needed it too.
The doors swung open and the boy who had been occupying her thoughts all morning walked in, looking just as exhausted as ever but just a bit hopeful. Ginny’s heart sprang to life inside her chest and she smiled at him. He looked around for her, and she waved from the Ravenclaw table getting up to move towards him. Luna waved her on cheerily. At the Gryffindor table, Ron was scowling, Harry glaring and Hermione looked apprehensive. Sod them all she thought, Draco needs someone right now. Behind him, she noticed belatedly, were Professors Snape and Dumbledore.
She looked at Draco confused and he smiled tiredly at her. She moved forward to speak to him quietly.
“I thought you’d be able to touch me by now?” she asked him mischievously.
“Didn’t say I couldn’t,” he responded, smirking. Ginny’s eyes widened as Draco’s hand came up to trace her cheek. She almost flinched, but here it was: his hand on her face, with no pain and no shocks, no feeling except the growing warmth that spread to her toes and make her break out into a happy grin.
She gave a squeal of delight and flung her arms around his shoulders kissing him for all he was worth. And he was worth plenty. His hands clipped around her waist to steady her and he pulled her closer into his embrace. They must have clung together for minutes before Professor Snape cleared his throat noisily and Ginny slipped back into reality. She smiled up at Draco brightly hugging him tight and revelling in the contact that she’d sought for months.
“I’ve wanted this for ages,” she confessed.
“So have I,” Draco admitted quietly. Behind them the boys of all houses and ages erupted in a roar of applause of catcalls.
“You’ll need your wand again, now,” he told her, smirking.
“No matter; hexes are a small price to pay for touching you.” She hugged him again, drawing him closer to her and wondering if she would never ever let go. She’d found someone to chase and be chased by and she would bask in the physical closeness they shared for as long as she liked.
Author notes: I hope it was enjoyed. Don't forget to leave an opinion!
The End.
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