~*~ Chapter 8 ~*~
The sound of labored breathing was all that disturbed the silence in the second corridor of the fourth floor. Neville edged further into the hallway, taking comfort in the way the shadows hid his full figure. He closed his eyes and pressed his ear to the wall, listening for the slightest changes in vibrations that would indicate someone’s arrival. She would pass by this spot soon enough; of that he was sure. Then, once she did pass by, he’d make sure he knew exactly where she was going. There would be no evilness had on Neville Longbottom’s watch. He would be there when she got attacked, and would be the first to draw a wand. In her shocked state of fright, she would clutch Neville’s arm and plead with him to save her. But her cries would be unnecessary, as Neville would once and for all prove himself as the hero he knew he was. And once she saw this, she would be rendered unable to resist his dashing charms. Oh, Neville, she would say, Neville, I just…
“Neville?” The boy in question quite literally jumped at the intrusion. His eyes flew open to see Ginny Weasley’s freckled face furrowed with lines of confusion. “What are you doing?”
“I – uh – ” came Neville’s eloquent response. “The better question is what are you doing?”
"I just got out of Charms. I was on my way to the Great Hall for lunch, but – ” Ginny trailed off when she remembered the odd position in which she had found him. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes, of course. I was just simply admiring the texture of these walls here. If you rub your cheek against them, you can really see the handiwork that went into building this castle. You should really try it, Ginny. Come join me.” Neville’s enthusiasm almost convinced himself as he continued to caress the wall with the side of his face.
“I suppose I’ll just take your word for it, Nev. It’s good to see you weren’t doing anything,” she paused, her mind searching for the appropriate word, “strange.”
“Gin-NY!” Ron called out after his sister, “you’re supposed to sit with your House! That’s why they have HOUSE tables, not just tables.”
“Oh, shove off, Ron. If I want to sit with Camena, I will.”
“Yes, Ron,” mocked Draco from behind, “please do shove off. And do try to keep the Weasley family squabbles to yourselves.” Draco’s last comment was greeted with two pieces of toast flying directly at the back of his head. He whipped around and narrowed his eyes, but everyone was innocently enjoying their breakfasts. He turned and walked out of the Great Hall, muttering something about redheaded weasels getting what was coming to them.
“You know, Gin,” Camena giggled, “I should be upset with you for pelting my boyfriend with breakfast.”
“Oh, that only counts if your boyfriend’s not a prat. How are things going with you two, anyway?” Ginny asked as she casually tossed a piece of fruit into her mouth.
“Well enough, I suppose.” Camena frowned thoughtfully into her mug of tea.
“You suppose?” Ginny cleared her throat and tried to take some of the eagerness out of her voice. “Is something the matter?”
“Well,” she muttered, pausing long enough to make Ginny hold her breath. “Don’t get me wrong. Draco’s great and all; what, with that excellent body, and fine hair. A girl could really get lost in his arms.” Ginny’s face was frozen in as genuine of a smile as she could muster. “I’ve just noticed that he seems pretty distracted.”
“It’s most probably just N.E.W.T.s. The stress with all of that is bound to make him less eager.”
“Oh, it’s not that. He’s most definitely…enthusiastic when we’re being intimate.” Camena’s cheeks were tinged with the faintest blush. “I just get the impression that he’s thinking of something.” She popped the last of her breakfast in her mouth and got up to leave.
“I’m so happy for you,” was Ginny’s dry response. She picked up her books and the two of them made their way out the doors of the Great Hall.
“I can only hope he’s not thinking of someone else. After all, how humiliating would that be? If I found out that my boyfriend of a couple months was actually sweet on someone else, words couldn’t express the mortification.”
“No, I’m sure they wouldn’t,” Ginny murmured as her eyes alighted on Seamus’s passing figure. Camena mistook the change in her expression for something else entirely. And all Ginny could think was that the soothing hand Camena had placed on her arm was anything but.
Seamus rounded the corner at the end of the hall and ran straight into the Head Boy. Both boys bent to pick up their fallen papers, sneering at each other for good measure. Draco casually brushed off his robes, causing Seamus to scowl at him, even as he brushed off his own robes. The tension between them was palpable. Draco tried to push past the other boy, but soon found himself thrown against the wall. He opened his mouth to say something, no doubt, cutting, when Seamus shook him.
“There’s nothing that you need to say right now, Malfoy,” Seamus growled, unleashing a passion he hadn’t bothered with before. “Just know one thing. If you hurt her, you’ll have seven Weasleys, one Potter, and half of Gryffindor on your ass. But I would give my right arm to be the first to pummel you into the ground.”
“I’m sure I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” Draco drawled back icily as he debated the merits of giving the boy in front of him déjà vu in the form of a black eye.
“Whatever, Malfoy. Just watch it.” Seamus released him and made his way further into the dungeons.
“That’s fifty points from Gryffindor for assaulting the Head Boy, Finnigan!”
“Trust me when I say it was worth it, Malfoy.”
The sun was setting, casting a red-orange glow over all of Hogwarts. It was as though the sky had been lit on fire, letting the sun burn out the last vestiges of its light before dusk hit. Soon it would retire, exhausted, only to start all over again the next day. She looked out the window and sighed, wondering how many more sunsets were left before they found a resolution.
Hermione walked into the library and immediately headed for the East Wing, a reportedly favorite spot of Ginny's. Within minutes, she had found Ginny just where she'd expected to find her, moving her quill furiously over a bound pad of parchment. Sitting down at the table, the older girl quickly tried to review what she would say in her mind. Just let her know that since there's been no progress, there's no point in continuing the hypnosis…No progress…no point. Completely casual…Hermione continued her internal monologue without entirely noticing the subject of her musings.
"Can I help you with something? I'm rather busy at the moment." The iciness in Ginny's voice was not lost on Hermione.
"Erm – eh – " Hermione was startled into speechlessness, leaving her to stare at Ginny's silently daring expression.
"I do have some studying to do, Hermione,” she stated, vaguely gesturing at the notebook she had abruptly snapped shut upon the interruption. “Since you don't seem to be entirely capable of forming speech right now, why don't we continue this later, hm?"
"I wanted to talk to you about hypnosis," Hermione finally managed to force out. Where had her carefully planned speech gone? Probably out the window when leveled with the glare that Ginny was currently shooting her.
"I'm not exactly in the mood to open my mind and soul today, Hermione. Especially given the company I'd have. Snape can take his hypnosis and bugger it." With that, Ginny gathered her books in one smooth motion and disappeared from her sight.
The only thought that occurred to Hermione was that at least now she didn't have to find an excuse to get Ginny to discontinue her hypnosis.
Ginny fumed her way out of the library doors, turning randomly down the hall; where exactly she was headed wasn't her priority at the moment. This was probably a mistake on her part, given whom she ran into.
Draco reached out an arm to catch her around the waist, murmuring that he seemed to have an affinity for colliding with Gryffindors today.
"Let go of me, Malfoy. I'd rather fall than be caught by you," she added, anticipating his retort. Draco simply raised his eyebrows, and regarded her with an amused expression.
"Has anyone ever told you how alluring you look when you're angry?" His drawl was heavily reminiscent of the Malfoy charm hidden from her for so long. Ginny looked up into his face, and what she saw bore frightening resemblance to what she saw when she closed her eyes at night. She struggled harder against him, knowing that only her own demise could come at the end of this road.
"Stop," was the only word Ginny seemed to be able to grind out.
"I'm serious, Weasley," he chuckled, smirking fiercely. "The vexed look is really working for you. Or rather, working for me." Ginny had finally managed to stand on her own two feet and gave him a rather hard shove in the chest. This seemed to only fuel his amusement, and he threw her a leer that promised her what she was sure she wasn't entitled to.
"Knock it off, Draco! I don't want to deal with you right now. I don’t even want to deal with you ever!"
"Really, is that so?" Draco asked, taking lazy steps towards her. Ginny forced herself to stay where she was. She was too strong for him. She would be too strong for him. "That wasn't what you said the last time," he murmured, dipping his head low enough to let his breath graze her neck, "was it, Weasley?" Ginny thought that now might be a good time to let him know that he was invading her personal space, but somehow Draco thought he needed to be one step closer to her. She cursed herself when she felt her back press against the wall. When had she backed up? Draco merely laughed softly and leaned his forearms on the tiles behind her, bringing his body that much closer to hers.
"Don't do this, Draco," she whispered, even as she unconsciously leaned towards him.
"Don't do what, exactly, Weasley?" His voice came out as a low rumble that she felt from head to toe.
"You have a girlfriend." Ginny wasn't sure which one of them was in actual need of the reminder. Something about the situation must have struck Draco in the same way, because his next question was,
"Are you talking to me or yourself?"
"Draco, we shouldn't do this," Ginny whispered, forcing herself to believe the words even as she spoke them.
"No, we shouldn't, should we?" His body swayed ever so close to hers. Ginny closed her eyes and breathed deeply the scent of him, knowing that a chance like this wouldn't come again.
"I thought you hated me."
"Oh, Ginny, you really are stupid." She barely heard the admonishment, but it was enough. It would have to be. She opened her eyes again, and this time when she spoke, her voice was loud and clear.
"You have a girlfriend." Something about her the sound of her voice snapped Draco out of his trance.
"So, I do," he replied.
He pushed away from the wall and turned left down the hallway.
Thirty seconds later, Ginny pushed away from the wall and turned the other way.
Harry and Ron had just walked into the Gryffindor Common Room, tripping over each other with laughter. The weather outside was brutally warm for an afternoon in May. Harry had offhandedly muttered that Dudley wouldn't be suffering today. His most recent Christmas wish list included, among several items, a top of the line water gun. Harry explained this to Ron, and then there was a silence that lasted all of about seven minutes before both boys shared identical grins. After verifying a few quick spells, they had rounded up their friends to meet on the Quidditch pitch.
"I don't know why none of us thought to charm our wands into water guns before! Absolutely brilliant, Potter!" Seamus had cried out, before his voice was lost somewhere in the jet stream of water shooting from Neville's wand.
“The Muggles really had it right this time, didn’t they?” Dean practically shrieked the last part of his sentence while fleeing Harry’s pursuing wand.
“Well, well, what have we here? A bunch of sorry Gryffindors playing with water. Maybe we’ll all get lucky and they’ll drown themselves.” There would have been no mistaking that drawl. All five boys shared a grin before simultaneously turning their wand-cum-water guns full force onto what could only be Malfoy, Lord of all that is Slytherin Evil.
In a perfect world, Malfoy would have melted into a puddle of goop, as classically evil witches and wizards are wont to do in the face of water.
Alas, Harry and his friends did not live in a perfect world. Which explains why, upon hearing raucous laughter, Dean turned his head to the right to find Draco Malfoy doubled over with mirth.
“Hey, if Malfoy’s over there having a good laugh,” Dean started suspiciously, “then who are we soaking?” After a general consensus that nothing could be seen past their combined jet stream, they all agreed to switch off their makeshift water guns.
Unfortunately, this general consensus did not include Neville, who was too caught up in the glee of exacting revenge on whom he thought to be Malfoy. The water cleared to reveal a towering, and heavily teed off, Professor Snape. He somehow managed to look menacing despite the water dripping from his hook nose. Not to mention the now pathetic spritz of water shooting forth from Neville’s wand, which was frozen in shock.
Snape walked through the water and wrenched the wand out of Neville’s hand, roaring, “Finite Incatatem!” He then wheeled around to the other Gryffindors and shouted, “You all have just earned yourselves two months of detention! However, since there are not as many months left in you pathetic lives at Hogwarts, you will serve detention with me every night until the end of term.” Snape then turned and headed back towards the castle, levitating Neville’s prone body behind him, and calling over his shoulder, “Malfoy, you will supervise.”
Suddenly Draco stopped laughing.
When Ron and Harry finally made it back to Gryffindor Tower, their robes had dried considerably, but were still damp and heavy. They threw themselves into the nearest seats they could find, agreeing that a change of clothes could wait until the sore in their muscles had subsided. Several of the younger students who had been sitting nearby moved away, holding their noses against the combined stench of sweat and damp cotton.
Hermione chose this time to walk in through the portrait hole, her nose firmly buried in a book. She looked up when she smelled dirty laundry, and noticed her two best friends lounging near the fireplace while the rest of Gryffindor was huddled on the opposite side of the Common Room. Alternating her gaze between the two of them, Hermione just sighed, shook her head and found the door that took her to the Head Girl's room.
Both boys' eyes followed her out of the room. Harry picked at his robes a few times before speaking,
"Hey, Ron," he began in a small voice, "can I ask you something?" Looking up and noticing the perplexed look on his friend's face, Harry continued, "Has Hermione mentioned anything to you? About me?"
"I can't talk to you about this, Harry."
"What do you mean, you can't talk to me about this? What kind of an answer is that?" Harry narrowed his eyes, concluding, "She has talked to you! What did she say?"
"Harry, I mean it, bloke! I can't talk to you about this anymore."
"Bollocks! This is me you're talking to: your best mate! Since when is there anything you can't talk to me about?" Harry laughed under his breath. "The only reason you could ever have to hold out information from me would be if I were asking you about the great love of your life or something." He continued to grin at Ron, waiting for some kind of clever response. The silence, however, was unnerving.
"Look, Harry, just drop it, all right?" Ron got up to leave, but Harry stopped him with a hand on his arm. Looking down into his face revealed to Ron the dumbfounded expression on Harry's face.
“Ron – I – " Words seemed to fail the Boy Who Lived.
“I'm going to go shower and change. Can't have people avoiding my stench all day, now can I?" Ron mumbled, jerking his arm out of Harry's grasp and stalking away.
Ginny Weasley was sure that she was absolutely mental. Either that or there were some altogether unholy forces at work against her. She couldn't seem to take two steps without finding some ungodly reminder of Draco. She never remembered crossing his path this many times on the way to her classes, but apparently Draco was constantly passing her. The incident that Ginny was currently replaying in her mind occurred when Ginny was standing at the foot of a particular set of stairs with her friends, chatting in the intermittent time between classes. Draco chose that opportune moment to descend said staircase. Her friends, taking the smirk he threw her as a show of his higher status in life, began to console Ginny and state very loudly that Draco Malfoy was a world-class prat. But Ginny couldn't help but see something entirely different in that smirk.
Ginny felt the girl next to her turn around as they were walking towards the doors of the castle. As for herself, Ginny was as yet undecided as to whether or not she wanted catch sight of the owner of that voice.
"I forgot to tell you something," Draco murmured as he caught up to the two girls. "Hullo, Weasley," he added, leaving Ginny no choice but to turn and acknowledge him.
"Yes, Draco, what is it? Ginny and I told Hagrid we'd be there a little early today."
"Oh, I just wanted to tell you…" Draco trailed off and bent his head close to Camena's ear. He whispered words into her ear, but his eyes were trained on Ginny, and a smirk was playing at the corners of his mouth. Pulling back, he took in Camena's flushed expression before dipping his head again and planting a deep kiss on her lips.
Ginny had just enough time to look away before her emotions forced her to say something she'd regret. When they broke apart, Ginny tugged at Camena's sleeve, gently pulling her towards the door.
"Come on," she grumbled, "we're going to be late." Camena stuttered out a farewell and followed her friend out the door.
Draco watched them leave, the smug expression on his face slowly fading. He ran a tired hand through his hair and exhaled noisily. Turning on his heel, Draco was fully prepared to resume his storming through the halls, when he locked eyes with his apparent audience. He was cut off before he even had a chance to finish sneering,
"What are you doing?" Hermione asked in an injured whisper. "You're getting Ginny all riled up, and to what end? And you're using that poor Ravenclaw as a means of getting Ginny jealous! Don't think I haven't noticed how you've been practically stalking her lately. Gods, Malfoy, even you're not that deplorable. What do you gain from these stupid games? What good does it do to just make Ginny more aware of her – ” Hermione stopped speaking abruptly, her mouth still open, and she blinked with the shock of something that had never occurred to her before. “Malfoy, what's the spark that we're looking for?"
"About time you figured it out, Granger," Draco responded silkily. "Please, don't let me spoil the fun for you. Go on."
"Ginny's in love with you. And Riddle fancies her in love with him. You plan to beat him by being a stronger presence in her mind. But to make sure of that, you're forcing her fixate on her feelings for you, and completely forget about Riddle, even if it kills you in the process." Hermione's face was impassive, and her voice was numb. "I can't tell whom you're manipulating more: that poor girl or yourself," she muttered, closing her eyes.
"Ah, but which girl do you mean?" Draco smirked at her in a decidedly Slytherin way.
"Oh!" Hermione eyes popped wide open as she thought of Camena. "I take it back, Malfoy. You really are that deplorable."
Draco just laughed and pointed out that his father would be proud.
"By the way, Granger, how would you know if I were 'accidentally' running into Ginny several times lately?"
"Oh, well," Hermione stammered, "I've taken to following Ginny a bit, myself, lately. I'm scared for her. Who knows when he'll pop up?" She continued to fiddle with her robes, and would have gone on if she didn't look up to find herself alone. Prat, Hermione thought to herself and turned up the stairs.
The week had proven long and laborious for the students of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. The stars and planets were slowly progressing along their path across the sky, bringing with them the end of term. Nearly everyone was working twice as hard in these last few weeks to make up for the months of slacking earlier in the term. A select few students found themselves working extra hard these last few weeks to make up for the distracting thoughts swarming their brains.
Ginny rolled her head around her shoulders, giving her neck muscles a much needed reprieve. She and Colin were hunched over a table in the Common Room, trying desperately to decipher bits and pieces from each other’s Herbology notes. Eventually, the task proved to be too much of a strain on both their eyes and minds to continue without a break.
“Colin, be a love and nip out to the kitchens? I’m feeling awfully peckish.”
“Gin, I went last time! Besides, what makes you think I even have the motivation to go all the way down to the kitchens to get food?” Colin’s defense would have held up smashingly, had his stomach not chosen that exact moment to growl in an uncanny imitation of the Gryffindor mascot. Having won that battle, Ginny stretched and settled herself on the sofa next to Ron, Harry and Hermione, while Colin headed out the portrait hole.
The three seventh-years were apparently taking their own study break, which entailed trying to see which boy could successfully throw the most pieces of crumpled parchment into a sleeping Hermione’s lap. Ginny nestled in closer to her brother, and rested her head on his shoulder. Ron may be overbearing as an older brother most of the time, but at least he was constant. And constancy was something Ginny felt she should hold on to with both hands at a time like this.
“What’s up, Ginnykins?” Ron asked, placing an arm around his sister’s shoulders.
“Nothing. Just tired of a lot of things.”
“Is everything all right? You don’t look so good.”
“Well, thanks! I can feel the love,” Ginny responded, giving him a playful punch. “I’m fine. Although, I do have to admit that I have the strangest feeling I’m being followed. It’s as though someone’s constantly watching me. Gives me the willies.” Fortunately for Neville, no one seemed to notice the deep blush that overtook his face at this comment.
“You don’t think it’s...”
“No, I’m pretty sure I would have noticed if Mr. Riddle made an appearance.” Ginny sat up straight and scrubbed at her eyes with the heels of her hands.
“Has anything happened with that?” Harry and Ron both leaned closer to her, wearing their trademark conspirator looks.
“I don’t know. I don’t feel much different. And I haven’t seen him since I started with Snape. It’s funny, though, because even though I stopped –” Ginny was cut off when Colin burst through the portrait hole, dropping snacks on Ginny’s lap and collapsing next to Hermione.
“Whew, sorry it took me so long.” Colin launched into a rapid-fire tale of his adventures from the kitchens, completely ignoring the glares Ron and Harry were directing at him. “I had just tickled the pear and literally every house elf was running amok. By the time I made it out I couldn’t even carry everything they gave me. I just barely missed Filch on the way back, and had to duck into a side corridor then go up a back set of stairs. And THEN I almost spilled butterbeer all over myself bumping into...” Colin trailed off and his eyes bugged out. “Oh yeah, I just remembered. Malfoy’s waiting outside.”
Now it was Ginny’s turn to nearly spill butterbeer all over herself. She started to scramble to her feet, but was stopped by Colin’s hand on her knee.
“Uh, actually, Ginny, he wanted to talk to Hermione. Heh heh,” Colin laughed nervously, “’s funny, right? Just a few months ago I’d be coming in here to tell you Malfoy’s looking for you.” Everyone was studiously trying to avoid Ginny’s glare as Harry shook Hermione awake. She stirred, upsetting the pile of crumpled parchment on her lap.
“Er, Malfoy’s apparently waiting to talk to you outside,” Harry informed her, while casually brushing off her lap.
“Oh. Well. It’s probably Head Boy business. You know, we have to coordinate the next prefect meeting.” She sneaked a glance in Ginny’s direction, but found the seat empty.
“Whoa, there, Weasley! You’d think you were trying to run me over,” Draco called as the Fat Lady almost slammed straight into him to reveal a storming redhead. “Although, if you want to try it again, I might be more cooperative,” he added with a smirk.
“Shut it, Malfoy!”
When Hermione made it out of the Common Room, Draco was still staring open-mouthed at Ginny’s retreating form.
“What is it now, Malfoy? It’s a little embarrassing to be pulled out of my Common Room to talk to you.”
“Trust me, Granger, the embarrassment is all mine.” Draco sneered at her before snaping, “What the hell is going on with the weasel?”
“Oh, she’s just upset and jealous because you’re here to talk to me, when you used to –”
“Not that, Granger!” Draco growled. “I was referring to our little problem. Did you get her to discontinue hypnosis?”
“She hasn’t been in about two weeks. But as far as I know, there haven’t been any developments. Are you sure he’ll just appear?”
“He should, given the proper motivation. We need to set up a way to get her obviously alone.”
“Well,” Hermione hesitated. She started to pick at invisible spots of lint on her robes.
“Spit it out, Granger.”
“If what’s supposed to stop Riddle is yours and Ginny’s love, then getting the two of you alone would probably be the best way to lure him out. Even the last time he came around you were standing outside with Ginny, weren’t you?” Draco closed his eyes momentarily, the vision of Ginny’s upturned face outlined by the snow flashing through his mind.
“I have detention to supervise,” he finally spoke in a chillingly quiet voice. “I’ll send her an owl.”
The moon was becoming more prominent as the sky was becoming ever darker as the boys of Gryffindor trudged their way down to the dungeons for detention.
“I can’t believe we have to serve out the rest of the bloody term in detention.”
“With Malfoy, no less.” Seamus’s expression was uncharacteristically dark as they crossed the threshold into the Potions classroom. Draco was leaning against Snape’s desk, reading from a book. Without bothering to look up from his reading, he pointed to the blackboard behind him as soon as they walked in.
“Well,” Harry said with a deep breath, “here goes nothing.” They settled down to clean cauldrons for the next two hours.
The stars were shining a little brighter as Hermione repositioned her seat in the library. She had a pile of books in front of her as tall as her head. Arithmancy was proving to be her most difficult subject. She fervently scrawled her notes down and reached for another piece of parchment. Blowing a strand of hair out of her face, Hermione tugged the book closer to her and focused on her studies.
“Malfoy, how much longer do we have to do this? We’ve already scrubbed every cauldron in the room. Twice.” Dean had thrown his brush down in favor of grousing.
“Detention lasts two hours, boys. Maybe you should have thought of that before assaulting a professor.”
“We only ‘assaulted’ him because we thought he was you,” Neville muttered under his breath.
“Well, maybe that will teach you a lesson, Longbottom. You should probably steer clear of trying to intimidate your betters,” Draco responded with a sneer. It was all Harry could do to stop Ron from lunging at the other boy.
Hermione let out an exasperated sigh and leaned back in her chair. She had been working on the same problem for the better part of an hour, and had made no progress. There’s got to be something I’m missing, she thought to herself. She started shoving aside parchment in search of her old class notes. Frustrated, she collapsed on top of the table. The cool surface of the wood was relaxing against her flustered cheek. She stretched a little with her left hand and closed around yesterday’s copy of the Daily Prophet left on the table. She started flipping through it randomly, still lying on the table.
“Hey, Harry,” Ron whispered loudly across the room. “Did you finish your Astronomy essay? Sinistra’s going to rail into us if it’s not perfect.”
“Yeah, I went to the Astronomy Tower last night to take care of it. I was going to ask Hermione to look at it.”
“Mmmm.” Ron was looking out the window to judge how clear
the sky was tonight. “Hey, do you see that? Something looks strange out there.”
All the boys in the Potions room turned to look out the window, and did, indeed notice something strange.
Hermione bolted upright, feeling a chill crawl down her spine. Her eyes were transfixed to the block of text on the newspaper in front of her.
There was a shift in the energy in cool night time air. Ginny was suddenly short of breath, and stumbled against the banister. She had come to the Astronomy Tower to get a breath of fresh air and escape from the madness that was turning out to be her sixth year. Now, of course, it seemed like a bad idea. She looked up and was almost knocked off her feet by the surge of energy she felt.
There was an almost blinding light issuing forth from the stars in the sky. Seamus cocked his head to one side, trying to decipher the shape being traced across the sky.
“Holy fuck,” Draco barely muttered before he bolted out of the dungeons and straight towards the Astronomy Tower.
Hermione’s footsteps were echoing through the empty hallway as she raced away from the library.
“Oh, Good Godric,” Ginny muttered as she turned around.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it Ginny, dear?” There was an aura about him that exuded power. “The time has come to make this final, my love.” He hauled her towards him, but Ginny could hardly take her eyes off the constellation burning bright. She could have sworn she heard a woman’s voice calling to her estranged lover.
The Hogwarts library was empty, and the only sign of life was a table littered with parchment and open books. On top of the mess lay a copy of the Daily Prophet flipped open to an article on Tutelae’s Night.
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