Title: Without Remorse
Pairing: Draco/Ginny (who else?)
Warning: Is unBETA'd
Chapter I: Midnight Caller
Gloomy was the word Ginny Weasley used to describe her knew residence. She wouldn't call it home. She could never call it home. Instead she used words like temporary and lodging, but home was and never would be the word of choice. To Ginny Weasley a home was warm and welcoming. A home was supposed to smell like cinnamon and nutmeg not mildew and rot. Its habitants were supposed to be lively and rambunctious not listless and docile. The biggest household pest was supposed to be a Garden Gnome not a Boggart. But this house was not a home and it never would be.
She stood outside her brother's bedroom, her oversized pajamas doing nothing to combat the cold of the dingy rug beneath her feet. Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was one of those houses that was never warm no matter what the season and at the moment she was feeling its full effects against her bare feet.
Gooseflesh covered the freckled arms, she had crossed squarely over her chest, but Ginny paid it no mind as she continued contorting her face into the unflattering scowl directed at the long-nosed freckled-face that was poked out of the narrow gap between the thick door and its frame.
"For the last time, the answer is no," her brother whispered angrily. Before slowly shutting the door with a squeak of rusted hinges and an ominous click of the newly installed lock being bolted.
If Ginny wouldn't have been so angry she might have laughed at her brother's attempt at restraining his temper for the sake of discretion at such a late hour, but the injustice she felt at his impatience kept her from seeing the humour.
Anger scratched out reason and the only urge she had left was the need to bang both feet and fists against her brother's door until her mother or father or any adult habitant would come to investigate. Whoever it was would surely catch all four of them up much later than any of them had reason to be. Capture and punishment seemed worth it if that meant that she wouldn't be alone in being disciplined.
Ginny raised her balled fist, but the sound of an unlatching bolt and the squeaky turn of the serpent's head doorknob stilled her outburst as the door opened and a bushy haired brunette quietly slid out, giving her a regret-filled smile.
"Ginny, I'm sorry but Ron and Harry don't think it's a very good idea" It was her pitting tone, the voice she reserved for delivering bad news, but it didn't matter what else she had to say. Ginny couldn't hear it over the blood roaring in her ears.
"Why don't you go back to bed, Ginny," she finished, the rhythm of her sympathetic tone not wavering. For a single moment Ginny had the odd urge to thump her, but lost her opportunity as Hermione shut the door with the same annoying click of bolting locks.
Time didn't seem to move as Ginny stood outside her brother and Harry's door. She wasn't sure how long it was that she stood there blindly tracing the dark wood with her eyes, but the brown swirled patterns were far from what she was seeing.
So this was it. It wasn't fair, but it was what it was. One mistake and she was on the outside again. One tiny mistake and the door was closed.
Feeling the need for instant vengeance creeping into her fingers and toes again and fearing the immature fit, she might throw if left outside their door Ginny turned stomping across the dark landing, not caring who or what heard her heavy foot fall on the creaking staircase.
She was on the first floor, her hand wrapped around the doorknob to her temporary bedroom when the shuffle of slippered feet on the staircase and her mother's mumbling voice made her pause.
"Bringing him here at this time of night, my word," her mum huffed, continuing down the flight of stairs. Her quilted dressing gown floating behind her like a purple cape as she reached the ground floor and moved toward the front door and out of sight.
The familiar sounds of unlatching locks and rattling chains caught her ear and curious by nature Ginny took quick cover in the darkness of the second landing. She moved to the cobwebbed railing squatting to try and see between the thick balustrades at whom her mother could possibly be greeting at such a late hour.
Anticipation built inside her waiting for her mum and the witch or wizard that had called to come into her line of vision, but the slim figure that followed her mum into the hall doused her excitement instantly. In his black robes and greasy hair, Ginny's potions teacher, Professor Snape was easily discernible from her brightly dressed mother. With disappointment settling into the pit of her stomach, Ginny turned to leave, when the second figure behind them emerged with its hooded robes and large trunk forcing her to stop.
This new addition was certainly worth staying around for, but Snape didn't seem to agree with her as without a word between any of them he none-to-kindly led the figure to the bottom of the staircase abandoning it to stand uncomfortably between its oversized trunk and the umbrella stand.
Her mother was uncharacteristically mute, already pushing open the door for the short trip down the narrow hall to the basement kitchen.
"Stay," Snape ordered in a pitch barely above a whisper. Ginny watched as he glided away from the figure and followed her mum out of sight leaving the hall in complete silence except for a few snoring portraits and her the beating of heart.
Something was certainly happening tonight and whatever it was it most likely revolved around the mysterious wizard who standing at the bottom of the staircase. Ginny's first instinct was to race to Ron's room and tell him everything she'd seen and heard. He would surely want to know about this, but a bitter reflection kept her from moving.
If things were reversed, if Ron was the one to discover the new guest would he come for her? No, he would get Harry or Hermione. His friends. His confidants.
Resentment rooted Ginny firmly to her spot on the bare floor behind the railing. Captivated she watched as the obedient figure moved its hooded head from side to side as it appraised its new surroundings. It slowly turned, skirting the disgusting umbrella stand it was close to and took a seat on its large trunk.
It seemed to be settling itself for a long wait and as it sat still Ginny tried to take in all she could have of its appearance. The dark dress trousers and worn trainers it wore were a combination she found most odd on the long limbed stranger, but it seemed to not be conscious of its unwise choice as the wide cuff of its robe began to ride up. A pale hand went to its head pulling the dark hood of its cloak back, revealing a sliver of a triangle nose and light hair. Ginny was engrossed watching the small details of the wizard's face being revealed, but the whining of the hall door's hinges and the sound of her mum and Snape's foot steps snapped her back.
"Pull your hood back up and get your trunk," Snape ordered in the same grave whisper.
"Follow me," said her mother gently, looking paler than she had before she'd gone into the basement kitchen. "And be as quiet as a shadow, please."
Panic jumped into Ginny's chest as her mother began ascending the stairs with Snape and the figure following. If her mother caught her, she would certainly know she'd been spying. Ginny didn't fear her mother's reprimands they had become something she had grown well accustomed too in the last year. But after 'The Mistake' her mother had misinterpreted her error for maturity. And almost begun treating her like a witch of age, but that would surely come to and end if she was caught eavesdropping.
Dust and dirt collected on her pajamas as Ginny slid backward across the wooden floor, crawling away from the banister and the quickly approaching company.
She'd reached the safety of the hall before fully standing and nearly bumping the moth-eaten curtain off a painting as she sprinted to the room she and Hermione shared.
Turning off the single gas lamp that lit the room, Ginny swung the heavy door nearly closed. She was going to need to hear what her mother and Snape had to say and if the door was closed that would be nearly impossible. Ginny strained her ears, but the only sounds that reached her through the thick door were, the creak of the floor boards, the shuffle of her mother's old slippers and her own uneven breathing.
Convinced they would hear her, Ginny held her breath as their silhouettes passed by the small crack she was watching them from and only when the hinges of the door down the hall screeched did she find it safe to exhale. Trying to even her breathing, Ginny opened her door a sliver wider hoping to catch something, but there was only the clatter of locks bolting and her mother's voice casting an Imperturbable Charm.
Using her back Ginny pushed her door closed, leaning against it with a contemplative sigh. Something was definitely different about their new guest and before the summer was over she was going to find out what.
TBC...
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