Chapter 4: Missing Maps and Malfoy's Mother
Ginny woke up the linger of her own screams ringing in her ears. She had suffered another nightmare. Her knuckles were white where she gripped her yellow cotton sheets, her white night gown pasted to her body with cold sweat, and her breath coming quickly, as if she'd been running. The soothing pink light of morning was slipping through her daisy-patterned curtains, and she could make easily see as the shadows of night were slowly being chased away. This was her least favorite way to rouse.
She felt something else beyond the cold shiver of her dark memories. She felt a loss, like something dear to her had been stolen. That is when reality set in. She rummaged through her sheets. It had to be there, it just had to be there. She felt another cold shiver run up her spine, unrelated to her night-terror. Draco Malfoy's map was gone. Ginny ruffled the cover's, in her panic, falling to the wood floor as she looked under the bed. Where was it?
When Ginny had checked every corner of the house twice, the Friday morning sun was shining through all the windows in her and Colin's flat. She had lost it. She had lost Draco's Malfoy's map and he was going to kill her. Hermione was going to kill her too. "Hermione." She mumbled to herself. Hermione could fix this. Ginny ran to the phone in Colin's room. Colin insisted they own one, and insisted Ginny learn to use it. His mother didn't enjoy receiving owls everyday. She wasn't fond of birds.
"Hello?" A deep and hoarse voice, Ginny recognized as Harry's asked.
"I'm sorry to call so early, Harry, but.."Ginny was talking rather quickly in her panic.
"Ginny." Harry interrupted. "Do you know how early it is?"
Ginny looked at Colin's digital alarm clock. It read nine, zero, five. She didn't understand why Colin insisted they own so many muggle things.
"Nine O'clock." Ginny answered before she realized it was rhetorical question.
"Nine O'clock? Really." Harry asked again.
"Look, Harry I don't have time for this." Ginny was growing impatient."Let me talk to Hermione."
"Hold on." Harry yawned. Ginny could hear him yelling for Ron or Hermione.
"This is Hermione." A high-pitched voice answered.
"Ron!" Ginny yelled. "Put Hermione on the phone, damn it."
"Fine." Ron whined. "Merlin when did Ginny lose her sense of humor."
"This is the real Hermione." A chipper and more feminine voice answered.
"Hermione, it's Ginny."
"I gathered that much." Hermione interrupted. "What's your problem?"
"Remember the map I brought you yesterday. Well, I woke up this morning and it's gone. I don't know what I'm happed or what I'm gonna do."
"Calm down, Ginny." Hermione's voice was calm and a bit confused."Let's start over. What map are you talking about?"
"Stop teasing me, Hermione. The map I brought you Wednesday. The map we brought to Fudge."
"Ginny, what are you talking about? I haven't seen you since Saturday."
"Yes you have!" Ginny was annoyed. Why was Hermione acting like she didn't know a thing it was as if she didn't remember?
"Ginny are you sure it wasn't one of your dreams?" Hermione's voice was still calm and rational. She always spoke to Ginny like this.
Ginny's Weasley temper was ready to explode when a letter and a flower was dropped on her lap. Colin was standing over her, the signs of a night drinking written all over his face.
"Ginny?" Hermione's voice was slowly fading.
"Roll over." Colin grumbled climbing over Ginny and into his bed, the stench of alcohol wafting off him.
"What's this?" Ginny asked Colin holding the letter and the daisy.
"I don't know. It was on your bed." Colin grumbled pulling the dark homemade quilt his mother gave him over his head.
"Ginny?" A concerned voice on the other end asked again.
Ginny wasn't listening. She opened the letter. It was expensive stationary, probably designed solely for the one family alone. It's distinct seal were two snakes coiling around each other at the top and bottom, seeming to endlessly swallow each other. The hand writing was neat. Ginny could tell, even though there were only two words.
Nice try.
She had seen the stationary and writing before. It was on a letter Percy had given her on an assignment. The guidelines to get to a manor. That stationary, that handwriting belonged to one person alone.
"Ginny? Are you there?" Hermione's voice was bringing Ginny back.
"Yes," Ginny answered.
"Where'd you go? I was getting worried." Ginny could hear Hermione's sigh of relief. "I was about to send Harry and Ron over. I don't like you being alone."
"That's not necessary. Colin's home." Ginny said flatly. "You were probably right. It probably was a dream. Sorry for bothering you."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm fine," Ginny said desperately trying to get off the telephone.
"Well," Hermione said defeated, "I think you need to see someone about those dreams, Ginny. I mean they keep getting worse."
"I will." Ginny put the phone down, anger replacing her fear, questions drifting through her mind. How dare Malfoy break in her house? How had he found out? What had he done to Hermione?
Ginny dressed carelessly in her anger. She searched the house for her shoes, all she could find were the knee length dragon-hide boots Charlie had given her on a visit to Romania. They were a size to small, but she didn't care. She slipped them on under her trousers.
Malfoy had gone too far.
~*~ *~ *~
The red oak door to Draco's study hit the hinged wall with a crack. In walked the petite redhead he who had overrun his thoughts all morning.
The night before, after much planning, he had apparated outside her flat, it being too risky to just apparate in. Foolishly the two occupants hadn't established any wards to keep even a muggle thief out. The flat wasn't big and he wandered it, arrogant in his stealth. He squinted in the dark, at the picture frame covered walls. Some pictures were muggle, he could tell as they did not move.
Draco soundlessly made his way down the hall, trusting the shadows to conceal him. He always took comfort in the dark. Using the shadows as a blanket, as a shield.
The doorknob to the first bedroom made a barely audible click as he opened the door. The dark colors of the curtains and empty bed signified it to be a boy's room. However, the posters of nearly nude wizards hanging from the walls confused Draco.
He traveled further into the dark room and examined the contents of the boy's desk. There were two normal pictures: A picture of Weasley and a mousy haired boy. The mousy boy would kiss her on her smiling cheek, wave at the camera, then kiss her again. Disgusted Draco turned the frame over. The next picture was of the mousy boy and a clan of mousy people.
"Creevey," Draco whispered into the dark with realization.
He was in Creevey's room. His Sickle gray eyes wandered back to the posters with amusement. 'I knew that Potter boots licking-Won't shut the hell up- little rat was a puff.' He thought bitterly. Saddened that he could have used that information while still in school.
Draco's smile faded as he pulled out his at the sound of a low feminine moan. He needed to get his map and he needed to leave.
He swiftly crossed the hall to the second bedroom. The map lay at the end of her bed crumbled between her covers. He had taken it, when a blood- curdling cry pierced the still night air.
Draco stood motionless, as the dreaded question swam through his head. Had she caught him?
He turned around, wand out ready to face her but her eyes were shut tightly.
She was having some form of nightmare.
He stepped out into the hall ready to leave then, but she cried out again. For her mother this time.
He hesitated and stepped back in. Her hands were clutching the yellow sheets of her bed. Her fiery locks clinging to her face with sweat the way her thin nightgown clung appealingly to her body. He wanted to leave, but she kept crying and Draco could not stand to hear a woman sobbing. It gave him headaches.
He produced a flower from his wand quickly, took his pre-written letter from a pocket of his dark robes and left both on her bed. His wand and map in hand, he used a familiar charm to wake her up.
The light pink spell shimmered as it made contact with his deranged version of Sleeping Beauty. He heard her scream as it gripped her subconscious, and hoped she didn't hear the familiar pop of someone disapparating.
Now here she was but now she looked much more frightening then frightened. She wore a multicolored hand-knit sweater that bore a giant white G. Her untamed wild red hair was falling everywhere. Her deep brown eyes were narrowed, a look of utter determination on her face.
"You took it!" She yelled. Her voice a little hoarse.
"Took what Weasley?" Draco asked innocently. He was sitting behind his desk, his black leather shoes crossed on top of it. It was a comfortable position in his oversized leather chair.
"You know what, Malfoy," Ginny replied. "Don't play dumb."
"I don't seem to be the dumb one here, Weasley." Draco answered. He gracefully pulled his legs from his desk and made his way around. "I didn't barge into someone's house, into their private quarters and demand they give back something that wasn't mine to begin with. I didn't go to the Minister of Magic, after being told not too. Did I?" He was casually leaning back on his desk, his long legs stretched before him. His voice calm, but his eyes were narrowed.
Ginny didn't reply, but she didn't cower. She wouldn't cower. This wasn't school. She wasn't going to cry at the drop of a hat or run away with embarrassment. She wasn't a little girl anymore, she was a twenty-one year old independent woman. Draco Malfoy was not going to terrorize her.
"So you don't deny that you and the mud-" Draco caught himself, "that you and Granger went to Fudge."
"No." Ginny sat down in the chair before Draco's desk.
"Honesty," Draco scoffed pushing himself off the desk. "That must be new for a Weasley."
"What would you know about it?" Ginny rebutted. She didn't understand why, but she felt a slight pang at his words. Even if he was Draco Malfoy she still felt guilty for lying to him.
"Enough," he replied smugly.
"You would know enough," She laughed. "Your father lied to the Ministry for more than a decade." She paused looking around the room, "And I haven't seen your mother around, lately. Have they come to their senses, finally thrown her into St. Mungos too?"
Ginny knew she had said something wrong, something very wrong. Draco had rounded on her. His eyes narrowed, his hands falling and gripping the arm rests of her chair trapping Ginny.
"Don't you EVER," he hissed through gritted teeth. His face lowered to mere inches from Ginny's. "Talk about my mother."
"I'm sorry," Ginny squeaked out of surprise. She didn't feel so brave anymore. She had never seen Draco lose his temper before, a rarity compared to Hermione.
"That's obvious," Draco said, pushing off her chair, but never breaking eye contact, "I'd appreciate if you left, and mentioned this to no-one."
"But..."
"Don't worry." He spat, turning his back to her, "You'll get your money."
The two sat in uncomfortable silence for what Ginny thought was eternity. A strange question surfaced in her mind. How had Draco turned this on her?
She had come here angry with Draco. Her pureblood boiling inside her fair freckled skin with rage, but he turned he into the guilty party. He made her feel like a first year, again. When in Potions she'd added her porcupine quills before taking her cauldron off the fire. 'No.' Ginny thought. 'He was going to do no such thing.'
"No." Ginny stood, feeling her Weasley temper restore her courage, "I won't go. It's time for you to answer some of my questions, then. Number one, what did you do to Hermione? Number two, what did you want with that map? Number three, what death-eater did you send into my house to steal it?"
"Look Weasley, I don't have to answer one bloody question," Draco turned on her smoothly, but Ginny was out of her seat. Looking up at him with the same determination that she walked in with. Her hands gripping the collar of his black robes, pulling his face down to hers. Draco's expression didn't change, but his insides were reeling at Ginny's courage.
The same girl that had been cringing before him minutes earlier was pulling his face to her level, aggressively. Later, when he turned it over in his mind, and his temper cooled, he had to admit it was very sexy.
"No Malfoy," she said her teeth clenched, "Your going to answer every question I ask you, or I'll..." Ginny knew she was lying, but she hoped Draco wouldn't call her bluff.
"You'll what?" Draco asked cooly, repressing a smirk. Ginny Weasley was a strange woman.
"I'll tell everyone," she spat. "I know what that map is Draco. Fudge might not have believed me, but.." Ginny's brown eyes widened as she realized she had said too much.
Draco smirked, grabbing Ginny's bare wrists and gently pulling them from his robes. She noticed for the second time how soft and warm Draco's hands were.
"You want answers do you?" he asked, holding Ginny's slim wrists before him.
"There is a Quidditch match Monday at noon. Puddlemere versus Chudley. You're coming with me."
"What?" Ginny asked. She was trying to subtlety pull her wrists away from him, but his grip was too strong.
"If you want answers you'll be there." he said, letting go. His gray eyes skimmed her clothes. "And wear something decent."
Ginny looked down at herself. The first time she'd really looked at herself all day. Colin's jeans that were three times to big, an old Weasley sweater that was just as large, and Dragon hide leather boots. Unfortunately Draco was right, she looked horrible.
"You can go now," he said, waving his hand like a teacher dismissing class, and turning his back to her for the second time.
"Well, you better be there." Ginny said. She knew her voice wasn't menacing, but she hoped to intimidate him a little.
"Oh I'll be there." Draco said snickering, squashing any hope Ginny had of him taking her seriously.
TBC
To: kattie, GABRIELLE, Ori, Batgirl, isis, ennui, Resse Darling, Batgirl: Thanks so much.