Note: Yes, it's finally back, after months and months. I am very apologetic to everyone who has gotten v. annoyed with me for being so bad with updates. Many people seemed to think that Chapter 6 was the end of it--aha, don't you worry. I wouldn't leave you hanging like that. This chapter, however, as if to make up for lost time, is a whopping 6961 words. Hope you enjoy. Also, in stark contrast to this fic, for any angst-enjoyers out there, I wrote a new D/G angstlet called The True Meaning of An Alternate Universe. Would totally not mind if you read it. *shamefully plugs*
Warnings: This chapter contains really excessive silliness. It borders on being ridiculous. Just to let you know beforehand. Please don't yell at me. :( Fanfic is my only source of entertainment.
The Hopefully Non-Magic Diary of Ginny Weasley
December 25
In the morning, I thought I had been dreaming about Ronald yelling at me on Christmas Day. In this dream, Ron as quite put off with me for making him empty the contents of his stomach the night before. He kept hitting the top of my head with a wooden bat, but I wouldn't do anything else but giggle. It turns out that this revelation was not in fact all dream. Ron was indeed yelling at me-Sleeping Beauty would have awoken to his cacophonous notes. You can rest assured, however, that I was fully awake when he shouted:
"The same bloody owl has been tapping at my window for the past twenty minutes, and when I finally let the miserable bloke in, it threw me a letter addressed to you from Malfoy!"
My head shot up straight from my pillow and I began to titter loudly about 'silly code names confusing everyone' and 'it's not what you think.'
"Well, it better not be what I think!" Ron gritted his teeth.
"Yea, yea. Merry Christmas to you too, dearest brother."
Ron threw the letter towards the general direction of my head, then left. The gall!
--
OK, so the letter appears legitimate:
Weasel
I've just written to tell you that you are to meet me on top of the Astronomy Tower at 7:00 tonight. I have some important information I must relay to you.
Malfoy
Only he could sound as pretentious in so little words. He would call it a gift. My pet name for it is simply 'annoying'-where does he come off with the idea that just because he owls me early in the morning, I will prance off Christmas evening to meet him on the bloody Astronomy Tower? Because I certainly won't.
--
What kind of 'important information' could he have, anyway? Hello, Weasley, I've just come to alert you of the fact that I am an idiot who can't seem to keep my hands off of you? Just in case you forget. Because that's what he is. And in fact, I had been planning on avoiding him today, since I presumed things might be a little awkward between us. One can't just kiss another and expect that to be platonic, or in our case, malevolent. On the other hand, just because he has kissed me several times now does not mean I have grown the least bit fond of him, and would therefore feel inclined to spend any part of my Christmas with him. I am not that easy to 'win over.' I don't go gallivanting off with any old bloke that knows how to lay one on me. Honestly.
--
Besides. I don't have anything to wear.
Blast it all. It's been less than an hour since I've been awake and already my head is swimming with images of that stupid bird. I don't care how well he kisses. I'll just slide on down to the common room and look for presents.
Later
This year's present haul is on par to all other years, so I feel no need for commentary. In fact, I have much more important things to ponder.
There seems to be quite a lot of gossip circulating around Susan Bones. I couldn't quite hear what it was about-but it is probably about last night's puking prank. I can't believe she is getting credit for that! Susan Bones? As if. She's about as vicious as a Labrador. Honestly, I hope that the students here have not gotten any stupider as an unknown side affect of the Puking Pastilles. Must write Fred and/or George about this matter.
Am now going outside for a little breather. I left Malfoy's cloak on my bed and everyone in my dorm, including myself have been complaining about it.
"Ginny, can't you do something about that rancid odor? I think they're your socks."
What nice dorm-mates I have. Anyway, to remedy this invasion of masculine scent (the not so good kind) I simply threw it out the window. And that takes care of that. Why can't everyone be as ingenious as I am?
Around 2:00 P.M.
I was slowly circling Hogwarts castle when I bumped into The White One.
"Gee-you look even paler against snow, Malfoy," I commented observantly.
"Did you get my note?" he asked gruffly. I put my gloved hands on my hips.
"Well, no need to get that impatient tone with me! If you had given it time, I'm sure I would have mentioned it!"
"Weasley," he sighed, looking at me like I was a helpless dolt. "Your attention span, if it were a human being, would be the smallest midget in the world."
"Golly, everyone's being so friendly today!" I said acerbically. "It really must be the holiday spirit."
"Must be," Malfoy smirked. Then Awkward Silence came over and both of us stood there, toeing the ground. From the corner of my eyes, I saw a couple of little first year girls giggling at us.
"Find something funny, do you?" I asked the little brats. They replied with a particularly loud chortle. "Bloody annoying, aren't they? Think they know everything. Remind me a bit of you." There we go. I had insulted him, and now we were back on track. Things got a little less uncomfortable. But apparently, Malfoy was not in the mood for a game of Insults and Degradation, because he gave me a sharp, silencing gaze.
"Augh." Malfoy made a sound of slight frustration, his glare still withstanding. "Just meet me at the tower tonight."
"No," I said pettily. "I don't see any incentive to do so." Malfoy grinned widely, in stark constrast to the scowl he had a minute ago--giving me a shock. He's so bloody moody.
"An opportunity to see me-that's no incentive?" I blushed and snorted at once. The cad-he really was in love with himself. Which was too bad, because I'm sure if he weren't so narcissistic, he wouldn't be such a wanker, and that would mean that I could stalk him without feeling immoral.
Please disregard what I've just penned. Just remember that I am a clinical case.
"Hardly," I said casually (and avoiding his stare) or as casually as I could with an orange-red face.
"Well, then I promise to give little Ginny a snog or two if she shows up," he said. I whipped my head in his direction and saw that he was laughing. Oh, yes, Draco. You are a very funny boy.
"I'm sure you'll be laughing when I give you this!" I said. And then I punched him.
Gods, I'm just joking--stop accusing me of destroying his face. Nevermind. I'll just continue with the story, shall I?
"I know Ginny liked kissing," he said teasingly. I stomped my foot childishly.
"Ginny did not! Ginny thought it was repulsive and she hopes you never, ever do it again." Draco shrugged in an 'I-Don't-Quite-Believe-You' manner. I grabbed his hair and pulled, watching in satisfaction as he winced. (This I am serious about. I'm pretty sure I got at least a few hairs. Don't tell a soul, but I pocketed them. Yes, I realize now that that is pretty pitiable, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.)
"I don't like your stupid kissing, alright?" I snarled. "On my lists of things I like, it is last. So don't even think about it."
"Do you mean that?" he asked with watery eyes. I stood awkwardly as he began to sob.
Once again, that was a joke. Don't I wish I could see Malfoy break down-remember, I am still holding onto his precious golden locks. Very firmly. Threatening the very root of what makes him Malfoy-for without his hair, what would he be? A very pale and bald boy. Oh, cruelty is one thing I am very close to mastering.
"Yes, I do." I donned a bewildered look. I hoped my face was not twitching, as it sometimes liked to do when I'm lying. "Why would I want to be snogged by you, anyway, when I could snog tons of other men?" Lie. Because in fact, I don't have anyone else to snog. "Didn't I tell you last night to stop it?" I sputtered as I let go of him. He straightened up immediately, his hand flying to his head to make sure his hair was alright, and backed away from me. Well, at least we know his precious tresses are genuine.
"Well, right then. I'll be on my way. Just be there, Ginny. I'm sure I'll have chocolate. Or something."
I pretended to look piqued at the idea that I could be bought with chocolate. But in fact, I probably could be, if it were dark chocolate.
As I made my way back up to the castle, the earlier group of Giggling First Years returned for an encore.
"Bugger off!" I barked rudely. I know I should be nicer to the little ones, but they all have such high voice registers, it is like they are a bunch of cute aliens come to brainwash us. So perhaps that explains the general 'stupid' aura of this entire castle. All one must do is eradicate the pipsqueaks. Unfortunately, this is easier said than done.
"Are you with him?" one of them asked. I stopped in my tracks and faced her. I gasped in confusion. This girl had no face! Only a thick bush of curly, curly brown hair.
"Where are you?" I asked in extreme concern. The child let out a laugh and used her tiny fingers to part her hair in the middle, therefore revealing two large blue eyes and a pair of pudgy, rosy cheeks.
"Are you with him?" she repeated.
"Pardon me?" I did not really understand 1st year lingo.
"Are you going out with that blonde fellow?" she asked brightly. I made several various noises, all effectively expressing my outrage at the question.
"NO!" I bellowed. The girl did not flinch. Apparently, the only language she and her friends know is that of Giggle and Point.
"Well, we think he's handsome," she sang, her eye lashes fluttering ridiculously.
"Good thing I don't give a damn what you think then, you hairy chimp," I muttered flamingly.
Honestly, 1st years these days are so…brash. How dare they assume such things about the rat and I? Our relationship is strictly hate-based. Without that conjoining hate factor, we would have no reason to interact, no reason to spend the majority of our days sniping at each other. And there would be no reason for me to think of him all day, every day.
Oh, no. This looks very bad for me.
I'll just sit here in my room, rock myself back and forth in a corner and repeat, 'Hate-love relationships are rubbish." If you say something long enough, and fast enough, with no room for meandering thoughts-will it come true?
A Few Minutes Later
No, apparently not. The only thing that does is make you light-headed and cranky.
I think instead I will go downstairs and pretend to be sociable.
--
Never mind that. Ron is in very suspicious mood.
"Go away, Ginny, we're talking about something important," he said. Hermione looked anxious and Harry, grim. Then again, Harry always looks grim. I heard he had constipation. Life really wasn't fair for him at times.
"Oh, okay, then," I said in an offhand manner. "Don't stay up talking about me for too long." Ron began to shake his fist at me, then thought better of it and instead flung a chess piece at me. The pawn shouted rather frightfully as he traveled about 5 feet into the air. Poor fellow-he's always being misused by my brother.
"Ronald!" Hermione shrieked in outrage.
"Yea, I know," he muttered. "I missed."
What. An. Arsehole.
Moments Later, In My Dorm
Outside it is dark, and I am sitting in my room on Christmas Day, scribbling all over pictures of Ronald. His pictures are rather indignant about this.
"I'll say, what have we ever done to you?" it asked. I shrugged.
"Well, the idiot you represent is a bit of a bastard," I said. Ron's pictures frowned.
"I'm sorry. We didn't ask for this job, you know-to stand around in boring pictures. I mean, if we were anyplace remotely interesting, it might fare better-but the only interesting place he's been to is Egypt and to Luna Lovegood's bedroom-"
I squeaked. Picture-Ron with the marker mustache looked at me in surprise.
"Have I said something?"
"Yes. I don't really want to hear about my brother's sex life." Just the thought of my brother attempting to reproduce with someone, as if to create an army of himself (except tinier), is disgusting. I have asked Mum over and over again when we were going to get him neutered, but she always clucks her tongue and walks away. If she thinks this is a matter to be taken lightly, she is very misinformed. The fate of the world stands in the bloody woman's hands. Honestly, when will these common folk learn?
I swear that I did not just look at the clock for the hundredth time in the past minute. I swear I do not know what time it is. Because it is definitely not nearing 7:00. NO, STOP IT GINNY-DON'T PUT THE QUILL DOWN-DO NOT WALK OVER TO YOUR TRUNK AND PICK OUT SOMETHING DECENT TO WEAR FOR MALFOY-DO NOT GO TO THE ASTRONOMY TOWER-
Blast it. Good-bye diary. It looks like I am going to be observing some stars, as well as prats tonight.
Around 4:00 AM. Hahahahahahha.
Well, we did more than simply observe tonight. Some rather big things have happened and I hate to keep you in suspense. It's all quite funny, if you think about it for a prolonged amount of time like I have. Or that may be simply because it is 4:00 A.M.
I pulled on a clean sweater and a pair of corduroys, along with a jacket before heading off to the tower. Admittedly, my hair was a little greasy, but nothing could be done about that now. Besides, if Snape was allowed to keep his hair so (I'm sure he is one of the world's largest source for oil, haha) mine was certainly passible.
Upon reaching the tower, I saw Draco standing near the edge of one wall, amongst the turrets. And he was not bloody alone. As I finished climbing the last stair and the tower came into full view, I saw Susan Bones, talking loudly with her arms crossed. I thought of turning back.
"Oh, so this is why you kept egging me on to come here, Malfoy?" I asked. "So I could see you and Bones converse? Sorry to disappoint, but I don't find that entirely too interesting." I sulked. Draco rolled his eyes.
"Don't be such a jealous bint, Ginny. I don't know what she's doing here."
"I'm here to straighten out a few things with you, that's what!" Susan shouted. Perhaps she was not as vicious as a Labrador after all.
"Don't let him get to you, Susan-he is always like this. Smelly and mean and irresponsible-and did I mention smelly?" Draco flashed me A Look. Oh, ho. Yes, now that he had given me that threatening look, of course I would shut up.
"I didn't ask for your advice, did I?" Susan snapped rather testily. I blinked. "So if you please, can you go away?"
Even sputtering did not seem to cut it at this point.
"Well," Draco said. "That wasn't very nice." My face contorted nastily.
"Yes, I'm sure you're in ecstasy right about now, Malfoy. Someone else to do the dirty work for you! You just sit back, relax, and let your dear Susan insult me." Draco narrowed his eyes at me and cursed.
"Jesus, you bloody women are useless. I DON'T BLOODY KNOW WHAT SHE'S DOING HERE! SO HOWEVER SURPRISING IT MAY BE, THIS IS NOT MY FAULT." Susan pointed an accusatory finger at him.
"You! You were the one that told everyone that I was going on a date with you!"
--
Sorry about that. Needed a refreshment. Also, one of my dorm-mates began moaning quite loudly about someone named 'Harold' so I moved down to the common room.
Anyway, after Susan said her shocking little bit, and I officially felt as if I were immersed in a Soap-Operatic world (muggle term, just in case you're confused) Draco said, 'What?' He has such a way with words.
"You know," she seethed. "You told people that I was supposed to have gone on a date with you, at Madam Puddifoot's." I looked at Draco and blinked my eyes a fair few times, hoping some kind of realization would dawn on me. And it did. That day that we had dined in Hogsmeade-and my brother had come in-and Draco had lied about who he was supposed to be here with. Why couldn't Ron keep his mouth shut?
"That? That!" Draco jumped up and down. "That was-"
"You don't have to explain." My head whipped towards Susan. She did not look so angry anymore. Just apprehensive."All I came here to do, was to tell you that despite who you are, you don't have to be shy about asking a girl out on a date. Getting other people to do it for you is silly. Though you aren't the nicest boy in the world, I'd be willing to give it a shot, Draco. So that's why I came. So I could tell you personally that I'd give you a chance."
Oh, I was angry. Why was I so angry? Well, for one, she was making advances toward Draco Malfoy. This was wrong, and I felt it my civic duty to tell her so. Second of all--well, I don't know why else. She had been a little rude to me, though. And NO it was not an act of jealousy! Why should I care who Malfoy dates? Nevertheless, I just about launched myself at the silly girl, but Draco, with surprisingly good judgment, reached out and stopped me.
"Now, the thing about that is-" he began nervously, his arms still acting as a barrier between Susan and myself. (Arms that were also dangerously close to my bosom, the pervert.) Which was a funny thing, because Malfoy was rarely ever nervous.
"Yes, you tell the idiot, Draco," I said triumphantly, eyes shining with feverous excitement. I was nearly rabid. Susan looked at me haughtily, not knowing the utter humiliation that was about to fall mercilessly upon her head. The embarrassment she would feel upon realizing that Draco didn't want to go anywhere with her.
But my moment never came. There was a poof on the other side of the tower, and a smoke of foggy purple began to rise from the ground.
"The hell?" Draco provided for all of us. A dark hooded figure arose from the lavender mist.
"Hello?" it said. "Hello-er, where am I? Is this Hogwarts?" The figure, who sounded like an effeminate male, whipped out a map.
"These stupid things never really help, do they?" he said with an anxious chuckle.
"Who the hell are you?" I asked boldly. The figure looked up-or it would have looked up, if it had eyes. We could not tell yet if it did or not.
"The name's Voldemort. Lord Voldemort." Then, he giggled. "Oh, that does have a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Must tell Nott to put that on our business cards."
Susan shrieked. Draco looked casually surprised, and I was nearly apoplectic with anger.
"Oh, great! What a party! What, is today Random Cameo day? I was only trying to do as this maniac here begged me to do-that is, to meet him here at 7:00-I had no idea we were going to have company. But no, feel free to stay. This is awesome. Bones, Malfoy, Voldie, and myself. Best mates forever, really." My sarcasm was oozing. Malfoy got a sour look on his face, the way he does when I ramble on for too long. Susan seemed to be in near tears. I almost felt bad for her-this must have been her virgin encounter with a dark lord.
Voldemort, on the other hand, paused in thought. "A party? Will refreshments be provided?"
"Shut up, you great idiot!" I hissed. Voldemort pouted. Or he might have. Once again, his facial expressions remained a mystery to us. But I'm guessing that he was probably pouting.
"Ginny, you're so rude to me at times. I thought we were past that 1st year mix-up."
"Tom," I said in what I hoped would be a patient voice. "Sometimes, people do bad, foolish things. And sometimes there can be no forgiveness. I'm sorry to say this, but there is no way that we can ever be friends."
"If you insist, Ginny. And to tell you the truth, I've lost all your contact numbers anyway. So, how have you been, young Malfoy?" You-Know-Who turned to Draco.
"Er-alright, I suppose."
"Right, right. That's good. Still getting top marks, are you?" Apparently, Voldemort was feeling very conversational today.
"Well-yes, sir. Of course sir."
"Very well. I'll have to tell Lucius what a fine son he has. Thinking of coming into the family business? Your father told you, didn't he? Yes, it's true--your Lord Voldemort has started his own undergarments company. It's growing quite rapidly, I must say. Right now, it's tentatively named Voldemort's Secret, but that might change soon since some inconsequential muggle company with a similar name wants to file a lawsuit." I couldn't help but snicker. Draco looked mightily uncomfortable. Ah, I could just imagine him going into the knicker industry. And besides, he usually did not enjoy answering so many questions in such a short amount of time. It tended to hurt his head.
"I suppose so, sir," Draco scratched his temple. "Haven't really thought about it much."
"Well, my boy, it is something that you can never start thinking about too early. Why, I knew what I wanted to be from the tender age of six!" I snorted.
"But then again, you were a very messed up little boy," I said sweetly. Voldemort sighed.
"Ginny, please. As I was saying; there really is no better job out there. You get free dental- and for that matter, all health care is fully provided for--an amazing retirement plan-and we recently increased everyone's salary. Plus, we now have a pool table in the playroom. Your father plays a mean game of billiards. Yes, Draco--in short, there was never a better time then now to join your lord. Do you model? Because we need models, and you look like a firm boy."
"Alright, sir," Draco said meekly. "I'll be sure to consider it." Voldemort nodded.
"You do that. And you, Ginny?" he said in a suddenly sneering voice. "Did you know we got sued recently? For apparently being biased sons of bitches. The Wizengamot ordered that we were to hire more women, or else they would do everything in their power to shut our little organization down. Honestly, this equal rights rubbish is really beginning to bother me. All I know is that there was nothing of this sort when I was a young lad."
"Look at me, Voldie," I said, pointing at myself. "I'm trying quite hard not to laugh. That's how funny you are. Like I would ever work for you."
"Ah, well, I surmised as much. Perhaps the young lady over there? Do you like thongs?" He pointed at Susan. Susan cowered.
"All of you are barking mad!" she shrieked. Voldemort crossed his arms.
"Well, really, now. I have been getting therapy for it, so at least I'm being proactive about it. I couldn't say the same for this one."
"It's been nice talking to you, Voldemort," I said in a bored manner. I didn't really warm up to the idea of spending the rest of my Christmas talking to insane megalomaniacs (who were newly obsessed with ladie's under things, I might point out.)
"Going so soon?" Voldemort whined. Draco butt in.
"Well, we're rather busy, you know. Doing things." Voldemort giggled. Yes, giggled. It was traumatizing, but we quickly recovered.
"Oh, I see how you two are. Ah, how sweet young love is. Write me for a Valentine's Day discount for her, Draco--all lingerie will be buy one get one!"
"Bloody hell!" I shouted. "What is wrong with everyone? Just because Malfoy and I dedicate a lot of time bantering with each other does NOT mean that we are in love! Please cleanse your brain of this thought! AND I CERTAINLY DON'T WANT ANY KINKY UNDERWEAR FROM HIM! I mean, am I right or what, Malfoy?" Draco shifted uncomfortably next to me. I turned on him.
"Am I right or what, Malfoy?" I repeated dangerously. I punched his arm for effect.
"You're correct," he said quickly.
"Good. Now-have a Merry Christmas Voldemort. Go back to your lair, have Avery fix yourself a cup of Coffee, and read a nice book--no erotica. Good-bye-"
"HALT!" Another voice suddenly shouted. I groaned. This really was not my day. We all turned around to see Harry, Hermione and Ron standing in front of us. Oh, no. This was bad. Voldemort was nearly floating off the ground in pleasure.
"Potter! How delightful!" He clapped his 'hands' together.
"I'm going to kill you, Voldemort," Harry greeted. Well, gee, wasn't he a party pooper.
"Not if I kill you first!" Voldemort trilled gleefully. Hermione chucked a book at him. Yes, we were all one big happy…deranged family.
"Ha," Harry said with conviction. "As if you could kill me. You've been trying for the last 17 years." He gave a grin. "Sometimes, dearest lord of mine, you just have to know when to give up."
"Don't rub it in, now!" Voldemort boomed. "That's bad form, and you know it, Potter." Harry shrugged.
"It is pretty low, I admit. But then again, you are scum."
"Oh, I love this part." Voldemort shivered in excitement. He drew his wand. "Audience, need input. Shall I kill him now, or play with him a bit?"
"Yes, please do tell," said Harry, fiercely. "Either way, one of us will be a dead man by the end of this." Ron piped up.
"Well, I'd rather like it if you'd two would get it over with. I was in the middle of a chess match, you know."
"This is stupid," I said crossly.
"Ginny, we are in no need of your pessimism, so please do shut up," Voldemort said happily. I couldn't figure out for the life of me why he was acting so gaily. Perhaps he had snorted something before prancing on over here.
"Wait, wait," Draco stepped in between Harry and Voldemort. "If you two are to fight and battle all of your frustrations out in a manly way, shouldn't we tell the women to go downstairs?"
You can imagine how silent everyone was at that. Draco, seeming to have realized how…almost noble he had just sounded, chuckled.
"Only kidding, of course." Harry glared at him.
"Save your belly-splitting humor for some other time, ferret."
"Right, scar head. Will do." He stepped aside. Harry flipped out his own wand with an extravagant flourish. Voldemort bounced on the balls of his feet. The aging lord was clearly having the time of his life.
"So," Voldemort said casually. "I've always thought it rather funny-the prospect of a seventeen year old boy, with no astonishing intelligence, defeating me. I'm quite a bit older than you, you know."
"Wisdom does not always have to do with age," Hermione interjected. "Obviously, since it has eluded you completely." Point for Hermione. Voldemort, on the other hand, seemed exasperated by her. With a wave of his wand, she flew against the walls of the tower, and was chained, her body restricted from much movement.
"HEY! You let her go!" Harry shouted sonorously. I had never seen him so angry, and had I been Hermione, I would have been quite happy that he was so in love with me. Instead, Hermione looked miffed.
"If--if you chain her- you chain me, too!" Ron shouted bravely. And yes, although even I will admit that the thought was fearless and very much Gryffindor, it was not much help to Harry.
"Ron-what the hell are you saying?" Harry howled. "You're supposed to help me!" Voldemort took no heed. He obliged Ron and soon, he too sat chained against the wall. Hermione shot him a, 'Do You Possess A Brain?' look. Ron, for his part, continued to look foolishly valiant. That brother of mine.
"Aw, the others look left out, don't they? With that said-"
Susan and I both found us also chained to walls. It was like a new fad. Draco let out a grunt of protest.
"That really wasn't very nice…."
"Says the king of Kindness," I said sardonically. Draco scowled.
"I was only defending you, Weasley! Can't you stomach just one heroic attempt from me?"
"No," I said annoyingly. "My brain wouldn't be able to process it."
"My brain wouldn't be able to process it," he mimicked in a high-pitched voice. "God, you infuriate me, Weasley."
"Glad to know that I'm succeeding at life."
"Well, Draco?" Voldemort turned to Heroic Draco. "Why don't you stand by Voldemort's side to defeat Harry? I heard you never liked him much, either."
"Why do you need that bastard, anyway, Voldemort? Scared that you won't be able to do it personally? Not that it matters--or have you already forgotten what the prophecy says? It's me and you, Voldie, just me and you." Harry took a step towards Voldemort, poising his wand towards where his face would be, if he were to lower his hood.
"He has got a point, you know," Draco said as he backed away. What a coward. "I mean, if the future insists that I am no help, who am I to disobey? I am not one to flout prophecies." Voldemort ignored him and appeared to heed Harry--but did not chain Malfoy. Lucky git. Instead, he too pointed his wand at Harry's forehead.
"Fine," he said with a touch of a whine. "Want me to give you another scar?"
"No," Harry said without missing a beat. "My turn. Can't expect you to do all the giving around here."
Those last words from Harry was the catalyst for the duel. There were a few hexes thrown around, neither of them entirely life-threatening. Both men (well, is Voldemort really considered a man anymore? Even if he does still retain human form, I'd bet that his man bits have just about fallen off, they're so old. Ah, nasty images in head) managed to dodge all curses and hexes thrown their way. After a while of throwing and dodging occurring, everyone was growing bored.
"This is quite dull," I said. "Things usually aren't when you two are together. Maybe you're losing your touch, Voldie,"I said gently.
"I am not!" Then, to Harry-"Cruciatus!"
"No need for that, Voldemort," Harry said with a wolfish grin as he moved to the side. "Looking at you is pain enough."
"That was weak, Harry-I was expecting something better from you." Then, there was a girlish shriek. (Was Voldemort.) "OMG! Look!" Harry, alarmed by the urgency of his scream, looked up towards the dark sky.
In the split second that Harry turned his eyes away from the dark lord, he had him chained against the wall, too, right next to Hermione. I let out a groan of disappointment and hit my head against the wall; hoping it would knock me unconscious. The wall behind me cracked, but I remained perfectly fine.
"Harry!" Hermione chided. "You fell for the oldest trick in the book!" Harry shrugged.
"He said, 'O-M-G'. How often does he say that? I figured a pterodactyl was flying over us or something."
"You know those are extinct."
"Not according to Luna Lovegood," Ron said informatively.
"Well, now that we've lost our leading man, what do we do?" I asked sensibly-quite possibly the only sensible one around here.
"Draco-get over here and help me knock these darling people unconscious so that we can take them over to HQ."
I looked suspiciously at Draco. He looked uncomfortable, something he has been for much of this time. I should have felt bad for him, but I was too busy pitying myself.
"Go ahead, Draco," I said loudly. "Turn to the dark side. See if any of us care."
"Er-I thought you were just going to kill Potter and leave it at that?" Malfoy said in a hopeful tone. Voldemort's shoulders sagged.
"But that wouldn't be much fun, would it? Besides, we have a new laboratory and I'd like to do a few tests on them. Nothing too fancy, of course."
"Perfect," I said.
"Ginny…" Draco warned. "Please, no more of your cynicism." He was so rude. Not only was he on Voldemort's side now-he was trying to rob me of my natural right to talk. A right that I beg to say I do not abuse.
"What? I was only going to congratulate Tommy here for his excellent career choices. He must be the first Dark Lord turned Evil Scientist. What does it feel like to set such a huge precedent?"
"Rather good," Voldemort replied smugly. "Well, hurry up, Draco, I've got a date with Bellatrix in an hour."
Draco contemplated. He looks really funny when he's contemplating something, you know. His eyes darted around, looking from me to Voldemort, to Harry, to Ron, to Hermione and to finally Susan, who really shouldn't have had any part in this. She seemed to have gotten over her initial shock and was now amusing herself quite well. Her nails were now a shocking orange color.
"Draco!" Voldemort scolded. Draco gulped, then nodded. Bastard, I thought. He was really going to betray all of us. Especially after all he and I had been through! I had even gotten him a Christmas gift (I hoped it was refundable. If I got out of here alive, of course.) Voldemort first turned to Hermione, before stunning her. Hermione slumped over, and Harry let out a moan.
I was watching Voldemort advance onto Harry when it happened. Draco, who seemed to be perspiring despite the currently nippy weather conditions, slowly took out his wand from underneath his robes. (Please, no dirty thoughts on that.)
"Draco, what are you-"
Draco only had a split second to think, he said later, when questioned about his motives and choices. It supposedly explained everything. (Not that it convinced me.)
Draco shouted a very familiar spell, and the next I looked at Voldemort, he was stumbling around confusedly, very wet and sticky with…bat bogeys.
"Dissendium!" Harry's binds broke apart, and he looked in bewilderment at Draco.
"WHAT ARE YOU JUST SITTING THERE FOR? KILL HIM ALREADY!" Draco bellowed. Harry came to his senses and nodded.
"Wait-no, Harry! Ah, will you just give me a second? Voldemort tittered, trying desperately to swat the bogeys off of him. A fruitless attempt, as Draco would have known.
"Avada Kedavra!" And just like that, Voldemort, boogers and all, fell to the ground.
There were no words. It seemed that the moment, all of a sudden, had become a bit too solemn for anyone to speak-even verbose me. None of us dared recognize the fact that it was finally done-Voldemort was gone. I briefly wondered what would become of Voldemort's Secret.
"Well," Draco finally managed to say, and by doing so, successfully severed the quietude. "Now that that's over." He lazily pointed a wand towards Hermione.
"Ennervate." Hermione blinked a few times, before her sense of where she was returned to her.
"What-what happened?" she stuttered. Ron shrugged.
"Harry did it," he said. "He defeated the old bugger. S'about time, I'd say." Hermione's head turned towards Harry so fast, a sonic boom could be heard. (Not really, you know. Hyperbole.)
"Oh, Harry!" She tried to throw her arms around her neck before realizing that she was still chained. Harry laughed and freed her, and then Hermione kissed him. While the two friends made out (it was sickeningly sweet), Draco freed everyone else. When he got to me, he looked thoroughly depressed.
"Should I let you go, I wonder?" he said musingly. I stomped my heels on the ground.
"Yes! You should! My arms hurt."
"What will you give me for it?" He said this as he looked towards Harry and Hermione. I blushed, guessing at his meaning.
"I--I don't know. A pat on the back, I suppose." His gaze returned to me and it unnerved me to see how very serious he looked. Without another word directed towards me, he broke my chains and I stood up tentatively, my legs a little wobbly at first.
"Malfoy?" I asked. "Are you quite OK?" I asked. He shrugged and continued to look morose. But there were no more time for me to act uncharacteristically caring for him. Dumbledore and Co. burst in through the door of the Astronomy Tower (I hoped this would be the last surprise appearance of the day).
"Where is he?" he asked gravely. When in fact, the situation was not so grave.
"The crazy bat?" I said. "Dead." I pointed towards the ground.
"Ah," said Dumbledore mystifyingly. Professor McGonagall gave a yelp.
"That's him?" she asked, pointing a shaky finger towards the late Voldemort. "Pray tell why he's so…sticky?"
"That was Malfoy's doing," Ron said, crinkling his nose in disgust. "We all know how brilliant he is." Draco said nothing to this.
"True," Dumbledore agreed with Ron. "Well, children, I am sure all of you have had a very trying night."
"Not really-" I began, but was cut off by Dumbledore again.
"But we must question you on all the events that have taken place this evening, as it seems we are a wee bit late."
"A wee bit?" Harry scoffed. "We did all of the bloody work!"
"Interesting," Dumbledore said ponderously. "Follow me, students." We did as we were told. It seemed we had no other choice. Harry went first, followed by Hermione (holding hands, might I add.) Ron was making polite conversation with Susan. Draco did not so much as glance at me all the way there. Touchy fellow, he is.
Anyway: Cut to scene in Dumbledore's office. We were very cramped. The professors decided against rousing everyone now to tell them the good news-after all, Voldemort would still be dead in the morning, so there would be no harm. Or perhaps it was the fact that all of them wanted to here what had really happened, so no one claimed the job of telling the poor, un-enlightened students. When Dumbledore folded his hands and asked us to please explain what had happened, there was a brief moment in which none of us quite knew what to say.
"You had to be there?" Ron tried. Professor McGonagall flashed him a dangerous look.
"Really, now. This isn't funny." Just because they had missed all of the excitement.
"Well, actually, Harry, Ron and I couldn't tell you from the beginning. We walked in on Ginny, Draco and Susan facing off with Voldemort."
Dumbledore's gaze turned to me.
"Miss Weasley. Care to tell us all that has happened, from the very beginning? I know it must have been hard."
"It wasn't very hard, you know-" I started to stay, but Draco's loud voice interjected.
"I'll tell you how it really went." Harry groaned.
"Why, so we can hear your biased and misconstrued version of things? No thanks, Draco. I'd rather read it in paperback, when you've no doubt published your recollection on how you were part of Voldemort's death. I'm sure you'll manage to sound as if you'd done it all."
"No need to be so snippy, Harry," I said defensively. And it really was uncalled for. Just because he was not the Boy-Who-Killed-You-Know-Who.
"As I was saying before Potty interrupted-"
"Oh, very mature, Malfoy, really."
"Susan, Ginny and I were up on the tower having a nice discussion, when Voldemort appeared with a poof of blue smoke."
"It was lavender," I corrected him.
"Does it matter? And that was it, really. We talked to Voldemort for a while, until Potter's excellent nose must have smelled something that wasn't his business."
"Not my business?" Harry howled. "It was Lord Voldemort-he's been my business for years!" Dumbledore, at this point, silenced the two bickering boys.
"May I ask what you, Miss Weasley and Miss Bones were doing up on the Astronomy Tower at 7:00 on Christmas evening?" McGonagall asked innocently. She raised an eyebrow. Ron began turning red.
"Yea…what were you all doing up there?" he said, his voice with an edge of anger. He looked at me suspiciously.
"Don't look at me!" I said indignantly. "Because that's exactly what I'd like to know too!"
"I just needed to talk to Draco about something," Susan said with a shrug. "I don't know why he asked Ginny to be there."
All eyes turned to Malfoy. He threw his hands up.
"I too needed to discuss something with little Weasel! Is it a crime now, to talk to Gryffindors?" he asked incredulously.
"It is if you're talking to my sister in a privately disclosed location," Ron said threateningly.
"Alright, alright, calm down," McGonagall said, clearly alarmed at Malfoy. She must not have known about how truly affected he was. "It was just a question."
"A question with hidden subtext!" he said indignantly.
"STOP!" Hermione shouted, standing up. "All of you seem to be missing the point here. This is not about Ginny or Draco or why they were on top of the Astronomy Tower. This is about how Harry killed Voldemort."
"Exactly," Dumbledore said with a nod, popping a Bertie Bott's bean in his mouth.
"It's always about Potter," Draco sulked, before crossing his arms, leaning back and his chair and closing his mouth. It got a whole lot quieter from there. Everyone took turns in successfully explaining how Harry had finally achieved his life goal (wouldn't it be nice to be able to cross off number one on your 'To-Do Before I Die' list) and they even answered everyone's questions until the professors were quite satisfied and acknowledged the fact that children needed sleep.
"Ginny, wake up." Unfortunately, I must admit that the reason I cannot and will not explain much of our time in Dumbledore's office in detail, is because I fell asleep somewhere along Harry talking about Hermione getting chained. It was very late, after all, and I already knew what was going to happen. The chair had been mightily comfortable, too.
"Wha? Is it over?" I asked blearily.
"Yes," Draco said. He tugged at my arms, attempting to get me to stand up.
"Come on, Weasley. I'm not going to carry you."
"Why not?" I asked innocently. Draco did not retort. Instead, he showed a lack of fortitude by giving up attempts to move me, and followed everyone else out the door. I hurried out. He was already nearly down the spiral staircase. I did not catch up to him until I was halfway towards the wrong direction of the Gryffindor common room, but nearer to the Slytherin dungeons.
"Gee," I said. "I was just kidding Malfoy. No need to get in a strife about little things like that." He continued to ignore me.
"I'm not 'in a strife' over anything, Weasley, so I don't quite understand why you've come all the way over here to talk to me. It's not attractive to seem so eager."
"You're a real jerk sometimes, Malfoy," I said quietly.
"Am I?" He turned towards me. "That's funny. But I suppose you are right. I am an immense jerk. I must be, to be so sour about Harry Potter getting all his glory again." He continued towards the dungeons. I followed. If I were to be 'unattractively eager' tonight, I would risk it.
"What do you mean? Don't tell me you're in another jealous bout." He ignored me.
"I'm not jealous," he said. "I'd just like a little credit where credit is due. Potter would have become a lab test were it not for me." I thought about his words, and had to admit to myself that he spoke the truth. Harry should have shown some gratitude to blondie. It was almost cute, how peeved Malfoy seemed about not being appreciated. Perhaps he was more human than I had previously thought.
"No matter," Draco continued bitterly. "I'm sure Potter is used to tools like me. Good night, Weasley."
What I did next I gave only an infinitesimal second of thought, but it seemed only right, after all. So if it seemed rash and, er, hypocritial, you must understand.
"Wait," I said, running up to him. "You forgot something." Draco turned around, looking very exhausted.
"What?" he asked. I leaned in, on my tiptoes, and placed a kiss on his lips.
"It turns out, Draco, that you were quite heroic tonight," I said with a smile. No sarcasm involved. "And you know what else? My brain has processed it, and I'm stomaching it quite fine. More than fine, really."
"Oh." Draco stood stiffly, looking awkward. And by Gods-his cheeks were turning pink! I wished I had brought Colin and his camera along.
"Would you barf if I told you I was proud of you?" I teased. Draco grinned widely.
"I wouldn't advise you to risk it," he said, before turning around and disappearing into the Slytherin dorms. And yes…I did stare at Malfoy's arse as he retreated. But surely I deserve that much after such a long and trying day. Cut me some slack, will you?
Things To Do:
In closing-- Merry Christmas, diary.
*Note on Draco's use of the spell Dissendium: This spell is not originally used to cut or break things, but according to the Lexicon, its roots also mean to divide or sever, so I supposed it could slide as a spell allowing chains to be broken.