Unofficial Portkey Archive

A/N: I suffer from occasional bouts of triskaidekaphobia. That is, fear of the number 13. Since this is the 13th chapter, I will play it safe and put in a decent disclaimer for once, in case a protector of J.K. Rowling's intellectual property rights decides to sue me for no apparent reason. Therefore:

DISCLAIMER: All the characters, settings, and elements found in the Harry Potter novels, which are also present in this fanfic, are the property of J.K. Rowling. I own nothing except the plot, which is 100% fictional. Resemblance to any real events is purely coincidental. Although I will admit I got the idea of titling each chapter after a catchy phrase in the chapter itself from "Theory of Flesh," by John Binias.

"Someday someone will walk into your life and make you
realize why it never worked out with anyone else."
- Anonymous

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
(something to think about)

"Draco."

Draco flinched at the sound of his name, and wished he hadn't bothered to visit. His mother had been vehemently against it. But he needed to see for himself what he had done. He needed to know that had done the right thing.

So he went to Azkaban. A gloom descended upon him immediately as he entered, though the number of Dementors guarding it had been greatly lessened. Even if all the Dementors decided to revolt again, there would be enough other guards left to guard Azkaban and prevent a mass breakout. The Ministry had learned its lesson during Voldemort's second uprising.

Inside the prison cell, his father looked broken; it seemed that nothing remained of the man he had once been. He had become thinner, bonier. His too-long hair was matted, and his skin was chalky. But it was in his eyes that the change was most drastic. Once Lucius Malfoy had had the power to send others cowering with the sheer force of his arrogant gaze. Now his eyes were dull and empty.

Draco, deeply disturbed, had been about to leave - almost as soon as he arrived - when Lucius spoke his name.

Instead of responding, he looked at Lucius, waiting. Resolved to keep silent.

"I'll have my revenge," he said, his raspy voice a mere whisper.

"How?" Draco snapped, with biting sarcasm, and instantly regretted responding at all. He hated himself for rising to the bait, but then, his father had always known how to provoke him.

Lucius smiled. At last, anger. Better than the looks of pity and revulsion Draco had been giving him since he first arrived.

"I gave my wand to others like me," he said. "They have not been captured. They will continue to fight. The day I get my wand back, you will be the first to suffer."

Draco clenched his fists. He saw a glint of satisfaction in his father's dead eyes, and, furious, he forced himself to relax, determined to appear unaffected. He formed his lips into a sneer. "Keep dreaming."

Lucius started to respond, but Draco had already turned to leave. And whatever Lucius said was drowned out by the sound of his footsteps echoing in the corridor, mingled with the piteous cries of other inmates as Draco strode past them.

He did not look back.

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Hermione sat down in a couch in the Gryffindor common room, heaving a great sigh. Next to her, Ginny looked up from an Herbology assignment with a questioning smile. "I thought you were with Ron and Harry in the library."

"If I wait for them to finish the Transfiguration paper that McGonagall gave us, I'll be there until tomorrow. And I left before they could work up the nerve to ask permission to copy from me again."

"Neville's doomed."

Ginny blinked, then set aside her quill and parchment. Herbology could wait in the face of such a pessimistic statement from the girl who believed that house elves could be reformed. "Care to elaborate?" she asked gently, worried, for Hermione looked truly weary. She had deep shadows under her eyes, and her hair seemed even bushier than usual.

"Neville's going to end up sounding like a witness for the Ministry," said Hermione dolefully.

"What do you mean?"

"He's on Demetria Kilrathi's side, but listening to him, you'd think that the use of Unforgivable Curses against Death Eaters is only fair, since the Death Eaters tortured good Aurors like Neville's parents so horribly," Hermione explained. "He can't get the point across - that the Ministry chose a method of attack against Death Eaters that hurt innocent wizards like Virreor Kilrathi, too."

Ginny considered. "When I asked him how he was doing this morning, Neville said basically the same thing you did, but I thought he was just panicking. He kept saying he wished he could speak to Professor Lupin. So it's true? He's really not making a very good witness?"

"Yes. In fact, Neville and I aren't going to work on his testimony again until he hears from Lupin. He sent him a letter already." Hermione sighed.

Ginny regarded her sympathetically. "Why don't we talk about something else, then? I'm certain you need a distraction."

A moment of silence passed, then Hermione cleared her throat. "Actually," she said slowly, "I do have something I want to talk to you about."

Hermione's tone was so odd that Ginny felt herself stiffening, becoming more alert. "What?" she asked.

"Remember the fight in Hogsmeade? Between Harry and your brother, and Malfoy and his goons?"

So Ron was `your brother' now, Ginny thought to herself. "Yes, I remember."

"What did you say they fought about again?" asked Hermione.

"I don't know," Ginny admitted truthfully. "I left Harry and Ron alone for a minute to check out the Quitarol's price, and when I came back out, they were trading insults with Dr - Malfoy," she quickly said, hoping Hermione hadn't noticed her slip. "Then Malfoy started giving me an evil look, so Harry stepped in front of me and started glaring back - you know how protective he and Ron get - and then I whispered a joke to him to lighten the mood since it looked like they were going to come to blows, and, well, they did come to blows."

"Is it true that Malfoy threw the first punch?"

"Yes," said Ginny. She rolled her eyes. "Actually, it was more like a shove than a punch. But it isn't true that Crabbe and Goyle held Ron by the arms while Malfoy punched him, so you better tell him to stop claiming that's how he got his black eye. Ron tripped on a rock, for Merlin's sake. And his eye got in the way of Crabbe's fist. Crabbe wasn't even aiming at him. He was going for Harry."

Hermione studied Ginny. "So Malfoy punched Harry right after you whispered something in Harry's ear?"

Ginny nodded, wondering where Hermione was going with this.

"Well, Malfoy doesn't shove people for no reason - he's too smart for that, as evil as he is - so we're going to have to go with cause and effect. Cause: you whispered to Harry. Effect: Malfoy shoved Harry."

Ginny didn't get it. "What?"

"It sounds like he was jealous."

Ginny's eyes rounded. "Oh…" She trailed off and tried frantically to come up with something to say.

"Is there something going on between you and Malfoy?" Hermione asked, her voice carefully neutral.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Ginny choked out belatedly. Then, because her response seemed inadequate and Hermione was staring at her intently, she added, "That's utterly preposterous!"

That was when Hermione did something utterly unexpected: she burst out laughing.

"What?" asked Ginny tentatively. Was the thought of her and Draco so laughable? Or worse - was it so horrifying that it had driven Hermione insane?

"I'm sorry," Hermione gasped. "You just looked so funny, sitting there with that guilty look on your face and saying things like, `that's utterly preposterous!'"

"Well, it is," Ginny insisted, not sure whether to be amused or annoyed by Hermione's mirth. "There is absolutely nothing between me and Malfoy."

"Then it means nothing to you that he's no longer seeing Pansy?"

Ginny's heart skipped a beat. "No!" she declared, a shade too vehemently.

"How about that quidditch game where you shouted at him to win? And he did!"

Damn. Hermione remembered that? "I called him an idiot, if you will recall."

Hermione grinned. "Oh, Ginny. You and Malfoy. This is unbelievable."

"You're bloody right it's unbelievable!" Ginny had grown almost as red as Ron did when he was angry.

All of a sudden, Hermione sobered. "You're right," she said. She gazed pensively at the flames leaping in the fireplace. "I wouldn't even have considered it if not for Malfoy himself." And she told Ginny about her stint with Malfoy at Transfiguration.

Ginny faked nonchalance. "Well, I don't think any of that concerns me," she said. And, desperate to wipe the I'm-right-and-you-know-it look from Hermione's face, she started prevaricating wildly. "Maybe he's gay!" she exclaimed. "And that's why he's being so secretive. Maybe he's dating - um, Colin Creevey."

Hermione looked like she was going to laugh again. "As amusing as the thought is, I'm afraid that the thought of you and Malfoy is far more believable than the thought of Malfoy and Colin." She paused. "Ginny, I'm not your brother. Or Harry. And I won't tell them about this."

Ginny stared at her.

"Surely you've been dying for someone to talk to about all this," said Hermione with a shrug. "And it may as well be me. I already know, and I've already promised not to tell anyone else."

Ginny considered her options. She could deny it again, which was useless since Hermione had it all figured out. She could simply keep quiet and return to doing her homework, which was stupid since it was as good as an affirmation and it might offend Hermione because it was like she didn't trust her.

Or she could give up and just tell Hermione the truth.

She looked at Hermione's calm face, and decided to go with the last option.

"Very well," she said, lowering her head to hide her flaming cheeks. "You're right. There is something going on between Malfoy." And, taking a deep breath, she told Hermione everything. Her story took so long, especially since her listener kept interrupting with questions, that by the time she was done the Gryffindor common room was nearly empty.

The two girls sat in silence for a moment, absorbing everything.

Finally Hermione spoke. "Well. This is certainly something to think about. An excellent distraction from Neville."

"Go ahead," Ginny said glumly. "Tell me how foolish and naïve I am."

Hermione had to smile. "I have a feeling you've already told yourself that," she said dryly.

"What do you think?"

"I think this is a lot to think about."

Ginny sighed at the cryptic response. "I need concrete advice. What should I do?"

Hermione regarded her thoughtfully. "Whatever you can live with."

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"Howling Night, Danaya, and I are leaving," said Dark Moon quietly.

"What?" Bitter Wand sounded stunned. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean that Shacklebolt and Lupin have traced your wand." The utter lack of anger in Dark Moon's voice was even more chilling than his rage. It was as if he had given up, and was now merely trying to contain the damage.

"Who told you?" Shadow demanded.

"A source," said Dark Moon. The look on his face indicated that no clearer answer would be forthcoming.

For Dark Moon and Howling Night both occupied safe positions in the magical community. Bitter Wand was presumed dead while Shadow and Danaya were renegade Death Eaters who would instantly be captured upon discovery by Aurors, but Dark Moon and Howling Night were engaging in their group's terrible activities in secret. They had the most to lose.

"Lucius gave you his wand," said Dark Moon to Bitter Wand. "If he admits that, then they will know that you're alive. They will search for you."

"And you don't want to be with me when that happens." Bitter Wand fought to conceal his emotions.

"You won't be alone," said Dark Moon. "Shadow will be with you. You two made a mistake, and now you will pay for it."

A sound of pain escaped Danaya at the mention of Shadow's name, but it was so faint that no one even bothered to look at her.

"So this is it," said Shadow, his face hard. "You're abandoning us."

Howling Moon and Danaya, standing behind Dark Moon, could not meet Shadow's eyes. But Dark Moon did.

"Yes."

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Draco raked a hand through his hair. He was sitting with Blaise Zabini in the Slytherin common room, alone for once while Crabbe and Goyle wrestled with their Care of Magical Creatures assignment - Draco hadn't bothered to take that class with them - wondering how to bring up his question. He didn't want to be too frank.

"Say there's this girl," said Draco finally. "And you punched one of her male friends. For a good reason, of course. And she got mad at you. What should you do?"

Zabini grinned. Because he was undoubtedly the best-looking student in Slytherin - arguably the whole school - he had a lot of experience with girls and dating, and many of his friends had come to him at one time or another for advice. He had just never expected Draco Malfoy to be one of them.

"Depends on what that reason is," he said. "And whether anyone agrees that it is indeed a good one."

Draco frowned. "Let's say no one agrees."

Zabini raised an eyebrow. "Then you send the girl gifts and beg her forgiveness."

"I thought of that."

"Then why did you ask me?"

"Because I don't like the asking her forgiveness part. Can't I just send her a gift?"

"No." Zabini looked horrified. "Bloody hell, no. The part where you apologize is the most important part. Just sending her a gift won't work. She'll think you're trying to buy her forgiveness, and, trust me, girls hate that sort of thing."

"Unless they're Pansy, because it always worked with her."

Zabini laughed. "Well, there are girls like Pansy, and then there are real girls."

"Real girls?"

Zabini gave him a knowing smile. "The ones worth dating, Malfoy."

A/N: I live for the moment wherein I check my inbox for reviews… ^_^

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