away from all these useless fears and chains
someone I am is waiting for my courage
the one I want, the one I will become will catch me
so let me fall if I must fall
I won’t heed your warnings
I won’t hear them
- Josh Groban
One Happy Thought
Ginny sat in the Gryffindor stands, presumably watching the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin that was being played in front of her eyes. Her fellow Gryffindors were on their feet cheering Harry as he chased after the snitch. At the moment, Draco was leading in the chase, but Ginny was not paying attention to the game. In fact, her mind was far away from the events playing out in front of her; she was remembering the past twenty-four hours.
When she had awoken that morning, Ginny was a force to be reckoned with. She snarled at everything and everyone that crossed her path. The stream of curses that she hurled at the temperamental showerhead was enough to warn her dorm mates to steer clear of her. Even Ron and Hermione scuttled away when she sneered at them. Harry, who was now well enough to join the rest of his house for breakfast in the Great Hall, looked like a lost little boy when he accidentally crossed her path.
She was obviously still upset about her tiff with Blaise the previous night. Blaise was mature enough to treat her like the young woman that she was, yet he was childishly jealous of Harry. Ginny had told him long before that Harry was merely an ex-crush and a family friend. If she remembered correctly, it was Draco who constantly teased her about Harry. Blaise had always shrugged it off. But why was he so upset about Harry now?
Ginny shook her head; there was definitely something wrong with Blaise. He had been a little off the entire night, as though he was worried about something. But what could Blaise be so worried about that would cause him to take it out on Ginny? She racked her brain for an answer, but could only come up with a farfetched one. Did Blaise actually fear a Death Eater attack at the game? If that was the case, why had he shrugged off Draco’s concerns as though they were nothing? Ginny sighed dejectedly when she thought about his abominable pride.
But Ginny shared that stubborn pride, for they had avoided each other all day. She refused to admit it to herself, but she had felt a pang of guilt when she saw that Blaise was not waiting for her outside of the Fat Lady’s portrait that morning. When she entered the Great Hall, she looked over at him instinctively, but he was preoccupied with talking to Pansy. She sat down at her table and resolutely tried to eat her breakfast without glancing at the Slytherin table. Of course she had failed miserably, and continued to watch Blaise surreptitiously.
But Blaise never acknowledged her presence. Throughout breakfast, he was occupied with eating, joking with Draco, or teasing Pansy. But Ginny’s scrutiny did not go unnoticed by Draco. He smirked knowingly at her when he caught her peeking at Blaise. Ginny cursed her Weasley heritage when she flushed hotly and looked down in embarrassment. But she couldn’t help herself – she just had to watch Blaise. Every time she glanced his way, Draco always caught her in the act, which caused her to grow angrier and angrier as the meal progressed.
By the time she was done with breakfast, Ginny was a spitfire of fury. She sat sullenly at the table, waiting for Ron and Hermione to stop cooing over each other and finally finish eating. When they were done, they left without Harry, for he had already headed out to the pitch with his teammates. Ginny stomped out of the Hall behind them, knowing that she was unnoticed by everyone in the hall except for the owner of a pair of gray eyes.
When Ginny joined her fellow Gryffindors on the stands to cheer for the team, she was shocked by their rudeness. As she walked down the rows looking for a seat, her housemates shifted over to hide the empty spaces and turned their eyes away from her. Hermione and Ron finally took pity on her and allowed her to squeeze next to them. Thus, Ginny found herself sitting precariously upon the corner of a bench. If she shifted over a little to her right, she could easily fall out of the Gryffindor stands and plummet to her death.
Initially, she had searched the players for Blaise, hoping that he had noticed her. But he was flying around with a calmness that she envied. Her heart sank when she realized that he was completely focused on the game, and had obviously not spared her a thought. So Ginny stared off into space, completely ignoring the excited yells of the crowd around her. She had wanted to watch Draco and Harry fight for the snitch, but Blaise’s silent treatment was wrenching her heart.
Suddenly, the crowd fell silent. Ginny looked up, startled from her thoughts, and saw that the eerie silence had stilled the Quidditch players, who were looking at the spectators curiously. But everyone in the stands seemed to be looking past the game, towards Hogsmeade in the distance. Ginny immediately shifted her eyes in the same direction, and gasped at what she saw.
A massive black cloud was moving towards the Quidditch pitch from the direction of Hogsmeade. As it drew nearer, Ginny shivered with cold and… fear. There was something about those clouds that struck her as worse than a mere thunderstorm. The entire crowd watched transfixed as the shadows drew nearer. Next to her, Hermione whispered, “That’s odd. It’s moving fast, and against the wind.”
“Dementors,” Ginny managed to breathe out as she began to shiver uncontrollably. Through the loud chattering of her teeth, she could hear Hermione gasp with horror and realization. Ginny sat down while trying to gain her bearings. Hermione took advantage of her prefect status and directed her fellow Gryffindors out of the stands and towards the castle. But the word “Dementors” had spread quickly, creating mass hysteria amongst the students. Ginny’s head began to spin as a stampede broke out in every one of the stands. All of the students began swarming towards the castle, running for their lives. Many had simply left their scarves, cloaks, signs, and binoculars behind. The Quidditch players hastily landed and retreated as well.
Ginny’s eyes began to tear as her fear steadily grew. Through her limited eyesight, she could see that the professors, Harry, Ron, Hermione, the rest of the DA, and Draco and Blaise had remained on the pitch, facing the Dementors with resolute expressions on their faces. Ginny was a member of the DA, and desperately wanted to join their ranks. But her previous feelings of confusion and dejection had weakened her emotionally. She was perfect prey for the creatures that were steadily approaching, and she was gripped in fear and hopelessness. With a weary sigh, Ginny closed her eyes in defeat.
She was trapped in her sheets, twisting around uncomfortably. Suddenly, Ginny sat up and looked around her. What was she doing in bed? The last thing she had remembered was writing about the Salem witch trials for her History of Magic essay in the library. She looked down at herself and noticed that she hadn’t even changed her robes. She managed to fumble out of her bed and tiptoe to the bathroom quietly in the dark, afraid of waking her dorm mates.
Ginny closed the door of the bathroom with a silent click, and whispered Lumos. A light appeared at the end of her wand, allowing her to study her reflection in the mirror. She gasped with horror. Her face, hands, and robes were spattered with blood. Her pale face was ghostlier than ever. Her hair was wildly tangled around her head, and her eyes seemed almost red in the glare of her wand’s light.
She cleaned herself up as best as she could and hurried back to her room to change into her nightclothes. Shocked by her former appearance, Ginny had lost all desire for sleep. She quickly grabbed her diary, a quill, and an inkbottle before she tiptoed out of her room and headed towards the common room. She stirred the dying embers in the fireplace into a comfortable blaze before she began writing.
“Dear Tom,
“I just woke up in my room, even though I am completely certain that I was in the library this evening. Oh Tom, I don’t know what’s happening to me! This time was even worse than the others. I found myself covered in blood, and I looked like a hellion. Am I crazy, Tom? Have I completely gone around the bend? I know you’re laughing at me for thinking such a thing. But if I am sane, then why does this keep happening to me?
“Oh Tom, you’ve been my only real friend this entire year. I’m always terrified of walking the halls now because of the students that have been petrified. But every time I think of you, I have the confidence to walk with my head up and my shoulders straight. I really just don’t know what I’d do without you, Tom. Thank you so much…”
Now she was sitting in the Chamber of Secrets, the puddles of water around her reflecting the grim, gray ceiling above her. Before her stood Tom, her best friend and secret crush, who was watching her with serious midnight blue eyes. Ginny was feeling a bit woozy, and idly thought that she must look like Charlie after he had had too many Firewhiskeys. She swayed on her feet as she continued to stare at Tom, until she felt herself collapse. Before she hit the cold floor, Tom hurried to her and caught her in his arms. He smirked as he continued to stare into her eyes and gently lowered her to ground.
Ginny lay on her back and smiled weakly at him. “Thank you so much, Ginevra,” Tom whispered as he brushed some errant strands of hair from her face.
“For what, Tom?” she whispered.
With another smirk, he replied, “For living, my dear Ginny. For living.”
Ginny was wakened from her semi-conscious state when she heard distant shouts coming from far away. She wearily opened her eyes and found herself in the stands, hidden behind benches. Her back was sore from the hard wood, so she shifted her hips and tried to sit up. By the time Ginny had successfully propped herself up, she was face-to-face with a Dementor.
There was very little to see of the creature; its body was completely enveloped in a tattered black cloak. Ginny momentarily marveled at the fact that the Dementor’s robes were shabbier than hers had ever been, but quickly snapped out of her thoughts. She seemed to be holding a staring match with the Dementor, for neither of them moved at all. Then, a rush of emotions swamped Ginny, and she felt tremendously cold and weak. Her eyes closed and she slumped resignedly against the bench behind her. She felt so helpless and tired; her bones and muscles begged her to give up fighting and let go. “Let go of what?” Ginny mumbled.
Her head was throbbing forcefully and lolled to the side, for it felt too heavy for her neck. Ginny gripped the bench behind her, afraid of banging her head against the wood. It was amazing that she had the presence of mind to even do so, because she was slowly slipping into a trance again. But Ginny’s hand brushed something soft and cool; she shook herself out of her reverie long enough to turn her head and look at what she had touched. It was a black dragon-hide glove that a panicked Gryffindor had left behind in the rush to escape. She pulled the glove closer to her, and lay back against the bench with her head uncomfortably pillowed on the soft leather.
With a relieved sigh, Ginny finally allowed her eyes to close and slowly drifted off. The Dementor was now hovering right above her, perfectly poised to give her a Kiss. One part of Ginny’s subconscious registered this, but she was much too cold and weak to do anything about it. She settled back… and caught a whiff of the leather. That scent was so familiar, but Ginny couldn’t place it. She slipped into another dream.
For some odd reason, she was at the lake on a cloudy day, her arms wrapped around a warm waist. The mist hung silently over the water, but she didn’t dare disturb the calm by saying anything. Who was this warm person that she was hugging? She could feel the strong muscles beneath the regulation gray jumper, so it had to be a male. Which male in her acquaintance would actually be gracious enough to show her this beautiful sight? She looked up at his face, but her eyes met the badge on his robes. It was green with a serpent and the words “Slytherin” clearly imprinted upon it. She inched her gaze towards his face, and was blinded by his bright blonde hair. Blonde hair? That could only mean…
“Draco,” Ginny murmured dazedly, her eyes still closed.
She could finally see his face clearly. He was watching her with a gentle smile and glowing silver eyes that looked almost blue. His gaze entranced Ginny; his eyes seemed to bore into her very soul, spreading warmth throughout her veins.
Ginny’s body twitched as she was wrenched forcefully away from that memory. Those blue-gray eyes haunted her, and she could feel fire coursing through her veins. Of course, that smell of leather had reminded her of Draco. And she, unfortunately, loved the bloke. Energized by her happy memory of their time by the lake, Ginny opened her eyes. But she was completely blinded; all around her was black. She knew that it wasn’t the evening yet, so it shouldn’t be so dark. Finally, she remembered the Dementor that was once practically on top of her…
With an anguished cry, Ginny wrenched her wand from her robes, pushed its tip into the muffled black mass that surrounded her senses, and cried “Expecto Patronum!” With a flash, a silvery hawk flew from the tip of her wand. The bird’s curved beak, intelligent eyes, and darkly speckled plumage transfixed Ginny. The hawk seemed to sense her fear, for it immediately flew high above her. Then, with sudden swoop, it sped through the air like a bullet; its talons poised and ready. Ginny watched with awe as the hawk’s talons tore into the black inkiness that surrounded her. The Dementor that had surrounded her sent up a high-pitched wail as it fled the hawk’s wrath. The bird tormented the Dementor a bit more before finally letting it go. When it was satisfied that the Dementor had left, the bird swooped down to Ginny, gave her a solemn look, and disintegrated before her eyes.
Ginny simply sat there for a while, trying to collect her senses. Then, she scrambled to her feet, grabbed the glove, and hurtled down the stairs towards the pitch below. When she reached the last step, she stopped and watched the scene before her. Harry’s stag patronus had effectively chased away the few Dementors that still remained. Some DA members were milling about, trying to calm the younger members and munching on chocolate. The new DADA teacher, the infamous ex-Auror Conrad Tucker, and some other teachers were urging the students to return to the castle. Ron and Hermione had their arms wrapped around each other tightly, and Ginny could see that Ron was trying to comfort Hermione. Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape were walking away from the group, their wands held out defensively. Ginny finally moved her legs when she spotted Blaise and Draco, staring at the retreating teachers’ backs. She rushed up to them, breathless and flushed. She knew her hair was flying about her in the wind, and her face was still pale.
She slowed down when she reached Blaise. He turned his gaze away from the teachers and stared at her. Ginny wasn’t sure if he was really seeing her or if his thoughts were elsewhere. “Blaise?” she asked tentatively.
In a second, Ginny felt his left arm around her waist, clutching her tightly to his body. His right hand was meshed in her hair. “Ginevra,” he breathed reverently as he stroked her hair. Ginny pulled away from him slightly, and smiled shyly up at him. He smiled back down at her, his relief and happiness evident in his eyes.
“G- Ginevra?” she heard from behind her. Ginny turned her head, and saw Draco standing behind her shoulder. She slipped away from Blaise and threw her arms around Draco’s neck. “Oh, Draco!” she cried aloud as she hugged him. “I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you last night. You were completely right, and I was a fool-”
“Well,” Draco interrupted as he pushed her away slightly. Ginny loosened her hold on him and stepped back a little. Her breath hitched when she saw that he was smiling down at her, the same way that he had in that happy dream. His eyes were glowing again, giving them a bluish hue. He smirked and said, “I’m a Malfoy, and Malfoys are always right. Surely you knew this, Ginevra?”
She could see that he was teasing her, so she decided to play along. She completely withdrew from him, folded her arms across her chest. With a mock pout, she said, “But you lie so well! How was I supposed to know that it was real? I just thought you didn’t want me to see you lose the game spectacularly.” She smirked back at him and continued, “You know I would never miss watching a Malfoy lose a game of Quidditch.”
Draco’s smirk widened and he opened his mouth to reply. But an unusually motherly Professor Sprout interrupted him and shooed them towards the castle. Ginny and Draco were about to protest when Blaise grabbed Ginny’s hand and Draco’s arm and dragged them towards the castle. As she followed Blaise, Ginny noticed that the other students were returning to the castle as well, including Harry, Ron and Hermione.
When they finally entered the shelter of the castle’s walls, Blaise stopped and let go of Ginny. He turned his eyes to Draco’s, and they began conversing through their stares. Ginny was quickly becoming annoyed at this uncanny ability. She crossed her arms across her chest, tapped her foot against the flagstones impatiently, and asked, “Well? What are you two waiting for?”
Draco turned towards her and said, “Weasley, go back to your common room.”
“How dare you order me around!” Ginny shouted as she stomped her foot down angrily. “I’m not going anywhere unless I want to-”
“Ginevra,” Blaise cut in gently. “I need to speak to you. Now.” He gave Draco a pointed look, then grabbed Ginny’s arm and pulled her away from Draco.
Ginny’s eyes were spitting fire, but she followed Blaise anyway. Once they were out of Draco’s earshot, he released her arm and stopped walking. Ginny also stopped, looking at him confusedly. Before she could ask him why he had stopped, Blaise grabbed her shoulders and kissed her fiercely.
This kiss was definitely different than the other ones that she had shared with Blaise. His lips were forceful and insistent, as though demanding everything from her. When Ginny began kissing him back, she realized with a shock that Blaise was offering everything to her as well. He had never relaxed his defenses when he kissed her before, but now Ginny could almost feel him pouring out his soul to her. She could feel it in every sigh, every flick of his tongue against hers, and each stroke of his fingers in her hair.
She smiled against his lips and tried to pull him closer, but he broke the kiss slowly and pulled away. He smiled at her tentatively and whispered, “I’m sorry I was upset with you over nothing last night. I was… worried about what Draco had said, and when I saw you on the pitch…” He stuffed his hands into his pockets and scuffed his shoe against the stone floor, whispering, “You shouldn’t have been there, Ginevra.”
“Don’t you remember that I’m part of the DA?” Ginny asked teasingly. Then, she drew herself up to her full height and said proudly, “I made my choice long ago to be out there, Blaise. To be on the front lines of whatever happens to Harry and the rest of the wizarding-”
Blaise lifted his anguished eyes up to hers and whispered, “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of, Ginevra.” Ginny’s mouth opened in confusion and shock, all thoughts of completing her sentence thrown out of the window. Blaise suddenly looked nervous, as though he had said too much, and said gruffly, “Come on, let’s get you to the tower.” He grabbed her elbow and dragged her along as he led the way to the Fat Lady’s portrait.
Ginny tried to say something, anything, but Blaise just ignored her and continued to hurry along the halls. Finally, she sighed resignedly and silently allowed herself to be dragged unceremoniously through the halls. When they finally reached the Fat Lady, Blaise let go of Ginny and grabbed her shoulders instead. They both stood rooted to the floor as they stared at each other wordlessly. Ginny’s eyes searched Blaise’s face for any sort of emotion that would explain his strange actions. She could see that Blaise was searching her face as well, but she had no idea what he was looking for. Finally, he broke the silence as he whispered, “Ginevra… I’m going to be doing things that you won’t like and won’t expect from me.” Ginny watched him silently as he took a deep breath and garnered the courage to continue. “But, just remember,” his eyes and words pleaded, “that I will always… care about you. Always, Ginevra. No matter what I do or say,” he insisted, “I will always be thinking about you.” He cupped her cheek with his hand and said, “I will always love you, Ginevra.”
Her mouth dropped open in astonishment, but Blaise just released Ginny from his grasp and sprinted down the hall away from her. He had turned a corner and disappeared from her eyesight before she thought to stop him. With a sigh, she turned to the Fat Lady, muttered the password, and entered the common room. The rest of the Gryffindors surged forward to greet her warmly; apparently, they had noticed that Ginny had been fighting the Dementors along with Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the DA. But they quieted when they saw the glazed look in her eyes. In silence, they parted as Ginny slowly walked towards the fireplace.
She had barely noticed that the rest of the house was watching her when she reached her favorite chair before the fireplace. Ginny sank into it, grateful that someone had left it vacant. She stared into the flames dancing before her, oblivious to the whispering going on around her. Ginny’s thoughts were on Blaise. His words and actions were similar to what someone would say before they left for a certain death. She didn’t know what he was planning to do, but his anxious blue eyes haunted her. Frankly, she was terrified of whatever was about to happen; for she was certain that the worst was yet to come.
Nearly blinded by the brightness of the fire, Ginny turned her eyes down to her hands. She realized with a start that she still held onto the black dragon-skin glove that she had needed so desperately before. In fact, she was clutching it so tightly that her fingers were paler and colder than ever from the loss of blood flow. She smiled faintly as she remembered that this simple glove had been enough to remind her of her happiest memory. But that memory was in the past, and she seriously doubted that there would be many more in the future. The hopelessness that she had felt while she was under the Dementor’s influence swept over her again. Grimly, she stared back at the fire before her, never heeding the tears that streamed silently down her face.
Note: I told you everything would change! And I can't believe you guys were so ready to give up on Blaise! Then again, this is a D/G site...
I stole Hermione's line from LOTR: The Fellowship of the Ring. The movie, not the book.
I've been dying to write this chapter and the next four or five since I started the story. So, where do you think this is going? Any guesses as to what's coming next? Till chapter 12,
Jawy
08.30.04
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