Full Spectrum
It was Wednesday. Three days until Hermione left for the States with her parents and she was determined to make some headway on the mysterious "Wall Number One" in Harry's basement. All day on Monday and Tuesday, as Harry flitted in between meetings with McGonagall and the Ministry (gathering information on renewing the wards), Hermione visited the stores in Hogsmeade trying to drum up information on who owned the house before the Gladrags.
One conversation had been very informative and it came from a newer store called "Dot and Cross" ( a store specializing in all kinds of writing instruments both magical and Muggle). The owner, a Mister Fillpott, had said when he moved into the area decades ago he had spoken with the Gladrags about how they came to start a business in Hogsmeade. He, too, wanted to expand into Hogsmeade, from his native Finland and then move onto countries such as France and Germany. Mister Gladrags had told him that they bought the house after the original owner's wife died in 1950, whose name happened to be Violetta. A bell had gone off in Hermione's head with the mention of that name and she had hurried home, only to find Harry gone. She pulled out the Black Family Tree she had drawn and found that Violetta Bulstrode had married Cygnus Black…one of the three sons of Phineas Nigeullus Black and Ursula Flint. Dorea Black was Cygnus and Violetta's youngest child and could've been living in the house while dating Charlus Potter.
But, why would Charlus Potter hide something in the basement of his in-laws house? Different scenarios flitted around in Herminoe's mind. Maybe this had something to do with James not being written down under their names. James and Lily had thrice defied Voldemort, just as Neville's parents had…and Neville's father wasn't written under the Callidora and Harfang Longbottom section of the Family Tree either. Dorea and Callidora were cousins, only five years apart. Maybe they had something planned?
Hermione rubbed her temples as a headache began to edge its way into her consciousness. There were just too many explanations. She needed to find out where Dorea and Charlus went. There was Godrics Hallow where Harry's parents had lived. Maybe his grandparents had lived there? Hermione wished Sirius was alive. He would be able to explain a lot of what was going on; such as where James' parents lived and what could've been so secret that it needed to be hidden in Dorea Black's house?
Sighing heavily, she tucked her notes back into her school bag and placed everything into one of the many drawers under the bookshelves. She could tell, from the way her mind ached, that she wasn't going to get much else done today. Pausing a moment, making sure she didn't hear Harry anywhere in the house, she pulled out a piece of parchment in her Transfiguration text book. She knew Harry would never pull that book off the shelf to read it, so her list of people to invite to his surprise party was safe inside there. Carefully, she unfolded it and glanced down the list, seeing if she had missed anyone.
Molly and Arthur Weasley
Fred and Katie Weasley
George Weasley
Lavender Brown
Charlie Weasley
Bill and Fleur Weasley
Remus and Tonks Lupin
Neville
Luna
Dean
Seamus and Hannah
Angelina Johnson
My parents
Christie Bell and boyfriend (Kevin? Calvin?)
Padma and Parvati Patil and boyfriends
Professor McGonagall?
Hagrid? (will he fit?)
She couldn't think of anyone else to add to the list. She had already quizzed the Weasley's and they had told her that they couldn't think of anyone else. Her party was under the guise of dinner. She planned on taking him out, then having Lavender owl her that she caught Crookshanks outside and he was acting strangely. Knowing Harry, he would apparate back with her, to make sure her cat wasn't hurt, and would follow her inside…and into his own surprise party. Music, food, decorations, impromptu games…all the ideas swirled around Hermione as she planned Harry's party.
He wasn't much of a dancer but, many of the guests were. Bill was helping her locate music that could be played. She made Fred and George promise to not do anything elaborate and dangerous with the decorations. Lavender was having great fun, with Katie, planning the kinds of food and snacks to be served. Hermione had asked Hannah Abbott-Finnegan to make a white cake with a broomstick on it for Harry. Now, all she needed was a gift for him, and right now that was the hardest part of his party. She needed to find something that he didn't have, that wasn't common and that was something he would absolutely love.
Hearing his pop with the slight crackle at the end, out on the porch thankfully, she quickly put her list away, taking note that she only had three weeks and three days until the 28th, when she had scheduled his party. She knew more people would be able to come on a weekend, then in the middle of the week when his real birthday happened to fall.
"Hermione?"
With a flick of her wand she sent the book back into the drawer and walked out into the hallway to see Harry hanging up his bag on a hook by the door.
"Hey," Hermione smiled at him. "What've you been up to?"
"Just got out of a meeting, talking about the security of the wards and had to sign papers about confidentiality. If I tell anyone what magic lies within the wards, I disapparate immediately into the Ministry."
"Nothing written on your forehead like other people we know?" Hermione joked, returning his quick kiss and following him into the kitchen.
"No, nothing like that. Though they wouldn't tell me what would happen once I was brought to the Ministry. They don't need to worry about anything though. My lips are sealed," Harry made a zipping motion across his mouth then began rummaging through the cooling cabinet looking for lunch.
"Do you just want to heat up some leftover ham?" Hermione suggested, feeling her stomach begin rumbling. Agreeing, they began the process of warming up leftovers as Hermione told him about the new information she had found at "Dot and Cross".
"This sounds way too complicated," Harry mumbled between mouthfuls of salad. Swallowing, he wiped his mouth with his napkin and continued. "So, what we DO know is my grandfather had my mother hide something in the wall?"
"Well," Hermione paused, her fork resting on her plate, "it could've been him that did it. Or something of the Potter family that Dorea, or her parents, hid in there. We don't know for sure if it's the hidden item or the magic sealing it there that has the Potter signature. It could've been Phinneas himself since it was his house. Then, we'd be talking dark magic to conceal the Potter item."
There was a moment of silence, interrupted by Hermione pounding her palms on the table excitedly. "We could go ask
Phinneas! We could see if he's in the portrait at Grimmauld or Hogwarts and just ask him!"
"True," Harry sighed looking thoughtfully out the window. "We could go ask him but maybe we should try to get in first. That way, we'll be armed with even more knowledge in case he does know something. I have a feeling that he won't just come right out and tell me…if he even did hide something. I guess what we need to focus on right now is trying to break the spell, if it's dark magic. Obviously it's something I need to do and if it is dark, maybe it needs blood from me…like that cave Dumbledore took me into sixth year."
Hermione shuddered but her brown eyes lit up at his words.
"Not that I want you to go cut yourself or anything, but it wouldn't hurt---to much anyway-if you tried." A rare moment of agreeability for Hermione and she smiled at the surprise that flitted across Harry's features. Quickly, he nodded in agreement as they both fell silent while finishing up their lunch. Harry was processing the danger that could await him if he tried such a tactic, but he trusted Bill and Bill didn't seem to think that the spell was hurtful in anyway.
`Only the part where I need to cut my own hand,' Harry thought grimly to himself. He looked up to see Hermione watching him carefully and knew what she was thinking.
"You stay up here while I go try," Harry finally said as he whisked his plate to the sink.
"Harry, I-," she protested but he held up his hand, looking right at her.
"I don't want you to get hurt if something happens. Just…stay up here, please?"
"Nothing is going to hurt me, Harry," Hermione told him, her plate following his.
"I'm not going to do it unless you promise me that you'll stay up here. You can stand in the hall and listen, but don't come down with me…please."
Hermione could see that Harry wasn't going to budge, so biting on her lip to keep the next plea from falling out her mouth she nodded, seeing a relieved smile cross his face. She couldn't help the way her heart flipped when she saw him smile at her like that.
"Go, do it now before the suspense kills me." Hermione stood up and tugged on his arm, pulling him up out of the kitchen chair.
"Fine, fine," Harry threw down his napkin, leaned in and kissed her, letting his lips linger lightly until he felt her take a step forward resting her hands on his hips.
"I'll be right back," he pulled back and grinned at the look of bewilderment on her face.
"You'd better be. You can't just kiss me like that then walk away without finishing what you started," Hermione told him sternly, her eyes glinting with mischief. Harry just grinned at her and ran down the stairs, pulling out his wand in the process.
It was cool down in the basement and very quiet. The marks that Hermione had placed on the stone were still glowing brightly, adding a bit of extra light to the dim room. Splaying his fingers, Harry placed his hand upon the stone and felt the tingling of a magic, cast so long ago, flow through his arm. He wondered if this was what Dumbledore felt when he was looking for ways to get through the wall in the cave years ago. Taking a deep breath, he pulled his hand away and thought of the modified Sectumsempra he had been able to devise. It was enough to leave a small cut, which he knew either him or Hermione could heal quickly. Pointing the wand at his left hand he nonverbally said the spell and flinched as a cut suddenly opened on the palm of his hand. Quickly he pressed his hand against the wall and held it there for a moment.
Slowly, the stone began to shift and he jerked his hand away watching, in amazement, as the grayness seemed to swirl in upon itself like a spiral. Around the edges of the circle he could see a sliver of light that became brighter until he had to squint his eyes. Stepping back, his left hand clenched and his right hand pointing his wand at the wall, he watched in awe as the stone seemed to melt away in a spiral of gray and black swirls.
Then nothing moved. But there, in the wall sat a gold container with a stopper on top. It was long and cylindrical, about six inches high and had some kind of inscription on it that flowed around the cylinder in graceful curves.
"Hermione, you may want to come see this," Harry called his voice sounding odd to his ears. He heard her run down the stairs then stop and stare at the now open spot in the wall.
"Oh my…your blood did that?" she asked walking closer, but sure not to touch anything around it.
"Yeah, it sure did. So you were right, it was dark magic that hid it there." Harry moved closer and felt her grab his hand and examine the cut. With a flick of her wand the cut healed and nothing was left to remind him of what he had done to himself.
"Do you think you should reach out and take it?" Hermione looked at it, trying to make sense of the symbols and lettering that flowed across it. But it sat recessed in the wall, almost seemingly on the outer edge so she couldn't see it very well. Whatever magical light was inside also glared off the gold, causing her to squint as she stared at it.
"I think maybe Bill should look at it first," Harry said wisely, holding her hand and peering at the cylinder inside his wall
"Good idea. He's probably at work so why don't we go up and send him an owl? Directly to work, we don't want to worry Fleur."
"Good idea," Harry echoed and allowed himself to be lead up the stairs. He was too nervous to write so he paced the library while Hermione wrote a quick note to Bill and let Hedwig fly out the kitchen window, interrupting her snack, to deliver the note.
"Relax, Harry. Nothing zapped you or threw you back. If that item has Potter magic, it can't be all bad." Hermione grabbed his hand and forced him down on the sofa. Crawling behind him, she raised herself up on her knees and began massaging the tight muscles under his shirt.
"Hopefully. Unless someone made it seem like a Potter signature," Harry added, dropping his head and letting a little moan of happiness escape. Her hands felt so good moving down his neck, over his shoulders and down his arms.
"Why would someone do that? I would think if that was the case, you wouldn't have felt the pull you did to this house."
"We both know what's out there and what Voldemort could do. Granted, if Bill is right about the age of this spell it was right around the time Voldemort was born or even a bit before that."
"I don't think it was Voldemort, do you? Why would HE be HERE after you vanquished him for good?" Hermione asked running her hands down his arms, reaching forward to take his hands and rub her thumbs over his palms. He shook his head indicating he actually agreed with her.
As he fell back against Hermione, Harry began to quickly put any thoughts of dark magic to the back of his mind. Her hands began trailing back up his bare forearms, then over his biceps, causing a flood of warmth to move through him. A moment later he felt the light touch of her lips against the back of his neck, reminding him of how long it had been since they had the time, or the energy, to bask in each others company. He shifted to his hip and turned around reaching for her. Their lips met fiercely; moving roughly over each others as they lost themselves in the moment. The noise of birds outside the open window, and the occasional meow from Crookshanks as he caught sight of one, was lost as Harry pulled her back with him against the sofa. He could feel her soft warmth enveloping him, all his senses and the desire that ran through his veins mingled with hers, creating an incredible feelings that he had never experienced before on such an emotional level.
He wanted her; he could feel his body telling him that and her hands caressing him on his chest helped that feeling move along. Their hips were already moving against each others, their hands slipping under clothing.
He needed her; that was something he always knew. Hermione grounded him, but this "need" was different. He had been thinking about her two week vacation and when he realized that he would be waking up and going to bed in an empty house, it created an ache in his chest that wouldn't go away until he saw her.
He loved her; which was something he knew he did on a friendship level. But, a little voice in his head, sounding so unlike Hermione and more like an older adult, told him that the mix of feelings he was having about her, the ache in his chest when thinking of not being with her and the fierceness to which he protected her was guiding him towards an undeniable, romantic, mature love.
Rational thoughts were thrown out the window when he felt Hermione push herself against him, pulling her name from his lips. Her eyes gazed down at him. Her lips parted as she stared at him and he wondered if she was thinking the same, animalistic thoughts he was.
"Upstairs?" she whispered, and Harry couldn't help but smile a bit and nod. Before she could even pull away, he reached up and cupped her face, simultaneously disapparating them off the sofa and into her bed.
"Damn," Hermione whispered looking around her room, then back at Harry as they now lay on top of Hermione's bedcovers. "You know how to impress a girl," she teased, letting her hands slide up under his shirt as he slowly moved on top of her, waiting to see her reaction. He still couldn't believe that she was here with him and he began to let himself think that maybe she felt the same, deep, nerve-wracking, although incredible, feelings he was.
"I don't think I have ever tried to impress a girl," Harry finally answered, pressing a kiss against the smooth skin at the base of her neck, feeling the quick beat of her pulse under his lips.
"No need to," Hermione whispered in return, tangling her hand in his longish hair, pressing his lips against her neck. Answering her motion, he sucked gently at a spot near her collarbone taking pleasure upon hearing her breathing speed up and feeling her hands tug at his shirt. He heard himself internally pray that Hedwig would take her time in coming back, and that Bill would show up after work, not on his lunch hour or something. Harry was fairly confident, from the way Hermione was moving beneath him, that they were going to have an incredible, passionate afternoon.
He had no idea how long they twisted and moved on Hermione's bed. Or, how long it took for the shirts and the shorts to be tossed over the side. But, Harry suddenly felt he was ready to cross over the line that neither one of them wanted to admit existed. He was cradling her in his arms, struggling to not just push her down and tear off her knickers, but instead make slow, gentle sweeps of her mouth with his tongue enjoying her response back to him. He really enjoyed the way she ran her nails down his back, causing him to shiver. It was during her journey down his spine that she pulled away from his kiss letting their lips cling to each other until the last possible moment. He knew what she was going to say before she lifted up a shaky hand and brushed his hair away from his face, his glasses long since discarded.
"Harry-," he heard her say, shocked to hear a slight tremor in her voice. Was she scared of what was going to happen next? He didn't trust himself to speak so he raised his eyebrows, encouraging her to go on. His hands rested on the middle of her back, having successfully unhooked her bra minutes before. He was still relishing in the way she felt pressed up against him, and at the same time fighting for control of his own hormones, not wanting to push her away by doing something she didn't want.
"I-," she started, then faltered looking almost embarrassed as she shifted her eyes away from his. Leaning in closer and kissing her forehead Harry realized, for once, Hermione couldn't find the right words to tell him what she wanted.
"Just tell me when to stop and I will," he heard himself whisper, surprising himself with that thought. He felt the tension release out of her body as she nodded, her mouth searching for his, desperately hanging onto him as they deepened the kiss, both of them shifting so he was pressing her down into her mattress. Together, slowly (and so painstakingly Harry thought) they pulled on the elastic of their undergarments, sliding it down their legs and kicking them off.
A moment of hesitancy, even through the pounding haze of their hearts and their desire he could feel her pause and
wonder if this was what they both truly wanted.
"Want me to stop?" Harry asked haltingly, hoping she didn't. He respected her so much, that he would stop if she gave him one single nod.
"No," she whispered on the heels of his question, wrapping one arm around him then reaching towards the bedside table with her free hand.
"Let me," Harry whispered, feeling his heart swell at the thought of what was about to happen. She nodded and he placed his hand on her abdomen, feeling the spell he was taught in seventh year, but knew since fifth when girls became interesting, flow out of his mind then down his arm and into Hermione. His heart was racing as he inched his hand lower, letting his fingers wander over her moist warmth then sliding down the inside of her thigh, trying to hone in on his control so it wasn't all over in sixty seconds.
"Harry…now," she breathed, clutching his arms and pulling him closer. He realized this wasn't just making out anymore and what they were about to do was serious and would permanently change the delicate balance of their friendship. As he arched his neck back, feeling the moist heat of her lips at the base of his throat he absorbed everything about that moment. How she felt perfect under him; that somehow she was the one who filled the void inside that had always nagged at the corner of his thoughts--ever since Sirius had died. He moved his body up and across hers, feeling every part of her against him; gasping at the sudden warmth that enticed him from between her legs. With one swift movement she moved up against him, pulling him into her without any hesitation. He couldn't believe the pulsing heat was Hermione and a pleasureable groan rumbled in his chest. Harry could feel everything around him melt away; feeling and hearing only her. The tension in his abdomen and groin grew with each movement she made towards him. He was going to explode if he didn't slow her down. He didn't want it to be over so soon so he gripped the pillow next to her, as her legs came up and wrapped around him, letting him push deeper. He became aware of her whispering something in his ear and he forced himself to pull his cheek away from the side of her head and look down at her.
Her eyes were almost black, her face flushed, her hair was flowing in every direction around her head reminding him how beautiful she was.
"What?" Harry gasped, resting his forehead on hers, forcing the rocking of his hips to slow down.
"Let go…of your control…just…let go," she panted, closing her eyes as she pushed down against him. Harry trusted Hermione more than anyone, and was fairly certain if he let all his control go he wasn't going to hurt her. But, he still didn't know what would happen if he did let it go. Ginny had never asked such a thing. He had known, somewhere, deep down, that he always maintained a sense of control. He wasn't exactly sure what would happen if he didn't. Being older and more mature, his magic was the one thing he could direct in his life. He was quickly understanding how much magic to hold onto and to let go until Hermione had brought out the kind of magic he never knew he had; true love for another human and once he had identified that "force" she had talked about weeks ago he pulled it in, not wanting to scare her into leaving him.
"Please," she gasped, as he started rocking against her again. As she tightened her legs around his back he lost all boundaries of where he and Hermione began. He wrapped his arms around her back, bringing him closer, meeting her lips. He began to relax into her softness, feeling a small curl of magic flow out of him and into Hermione. They moved faster against each other, the friction of her skin against his, electrifying his movements. He heard her gasping and murmuring his name against his ear; their lips forming each others names. Her legs suddenly unwrapped from his and she shoved her hips against his, hard, demanding him to answer her.
Energy poured out of him, consuming Hermione and she begged him to hold her tighter; needing him. Harry's arms tightened and his mouth kissed that spot behind her ear that he knew made her shiver.
Faster they moved, hips crashing and grinding and she felt a sense of sudden weightlessness come over her. She grabbed onto his back, hanging on, calling out his name as she grew numb everywhere but where they were joined.
Just him. Just Harry…he filled her every pore, pushing her towards a spectrum of lights so beautiful she cried out his name, hearing him echo hers back to her. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper, hearing him say her name over and over, awakening every cell, ever fiber in her body until she thought her body would fall away from her soul. Never had she felt such want, such love for another person. She buried her head in his shoulder, scared and violently amazed as the feeling of being one with him overtook her mind. She could feel one hand splayed against her upper back, the other caressing her chest, her hips, pulling her leg tighter against him. Ever part of him that touched her skin burned with a desire she could never describe with words. Lights swarmed around her and she flew dizzyingly towards the ground. The tight, aching knot that Harry instilled inside her was slipping and she arched into him pulsing, trembling all around him. She felt him shift, his arms creating support behind her, his hands cradling her head and she forced herself to open her eyes and look to see if the colors were just in her head.
Green eyes met hers, and for one brief second she saw his magic, the flashes of white and gold that swirled around him. Beautiful sounds rolled off the colors and filled her head with its melody. Her eyes widened at the thought of hearing colors and a moment, before their eyes fluttered shut, she swore she felt him inside her head; swore she heard and felt the word "love". His mouth captured hers before she could process anymore, filling her with a sweet hotness that he seemed to be pouring into her, down her chest to a place deep inside her body. Ribbons of ecstasy rose from her and swirled around them, mingling with the flowing, chime like sounds the beat through her head; mouths absorbed muffled cries and yells. She tore her lips from his, arching against him feeling no resistance behind her. She grabbed his shoulders, his back while whimpering his name over and over. Her hands slid to his elbows as he raised himself up on his hands and thrust into her at a slightly different angle. She heard his groan deep in his chest, the alter ego to her own crescendoing cries. Suddenly, unavoidably, they both froze as their hot sweaty bodies melded to each others. They both held onto their orgasms as long as possible and Hermione's mind leapt free past any pleasure she had ever known. Neither one really noticed the strange sounds surrounding his house, which ceased as Hermione felt the bed under her once more. She felt the boneless weight of Harry on top of her, their chests heaving against each others as they struggled for air.
She wanted to say something; to describe what she felt. Millions of thoughts that had been pushed from her mind came racing back as she slowly regained her mental faculties.
`That was the most amazing sex ever in the history of the world.'
`Did I just hear colors? Did I just hear his magic?'
`Did he say he loved me?'
`Wait, did I imagine I heard a crash?'
That last thought was enough for her to open her eyes, seeing Harry's dark hair against her cheek. Weakly, she reached up and touched the back of his head. He didn't raise it, instead she heard him hum in his throat as if asking her what she was doing. Turning her head slightly away from Harry she took sight of her dresser and let out a small laugh.
This time she caught Harry's attention and he shifted, moving only his hips, and slid out of her. Hermione gave a small hum of disappointment.
"What's so funny?" Harry asked thickly, his gaze sweeping over her face. Ever so gently, he reached up and brushed a strand of hair back from her eyes.
"I just noticed that everything fell off my dresser. Reparo charms galore, I think," she whispered watching his eyes shift from her face to a point over her shoulder.
"Even though it's blurry, I can see what you mean. Your desk is the same way; I'm sorry," he started, but she placed a finger against his lips.
"That was the most amazing experience, Harry. Don't you ever be sorry."
She saw the familiar boyish grin come to his face as she said the word "amazing."
"Really?"
Hermione smiled shyly and nodded, taking his hand which was resting on her hip.
"It felt like we were weightless for a time…I saw and heard colors; your magic maybe."
To this, Harry's eyes widened as he stared at her.
"I think maybe we were weightless for a bit because I felt the same thing…there was nothing under you for a minute but I thought maybe it was just me…ummm," he suddenly looked away from her eyes at her neck, "getting lost in you." He felt her squeeze his hand and he forced himself to look up at her, his heart swelling at the sight of her, the feel of her in his arms. "That was just bloody brilliant, Hermione."
She gave a small smile, raised his hand to her mouth and pressed a kiss against his knuckles.
"I didn't do much; I certainly enjoyed the moment. But, do you really think you levitated us? I've never heard of that happening."
"Me neither. I guess that's what happens when I let go of all control," he whispered pointedly. Hermione heard the undertones of his statement. That levitation (if that was indeed what they experienced for a brief moment) had never happened before; he had never experienced that with Ginny. Smiling almost secretly, as she ran a finger down his cheek, she felt almost relieved that she had done something with Harry, something so intimate, and was the first one to do so. Levitation while having sex? Who would've have guessed? That happening, made this moment all the more special in her mind.
"That was the most…brilliant moment, ever. And…," he paused and swallowed, making Hermione wonder if she did something wrong. `Oh, no,' kept running through her mind as she looked straight into his eyes. "…and you do way more than you give yourself credit for," Harry told her, his heart pounding so hard, even Hermione could feel it across the small space separating them.
"What do you mean?" Hermione whispered feeling nervous and jittery all of a sudden.
He opened his mouth, but all she heard was a loud hoot. Shocked, she stared at him. Then, throwing back her head, she dissolved into laughter as Hedwig came and settled herself down on her messy dresser.
"Bloody owl," Harry grumbled, turning over and stretching out his hand towards Hedwig. Hermione smiled as she caught sight of the full Harry and sighed as she realized him, in all his nakedness, was probably the most beautiful sight in the world.
"Bill's coming over in an hour. We should probably get up and inspect the rest of the house," Harry turned back towards her, seeing her arms tucked over her breasts, with her hands under her head like a pillow (which were now on the floor). "You made quite a mess, I believe."
Hermione grinned and playfully slapped his arm hearing him murmur something about domestic violence.
"Takes two to make THIS kind of mess, Harry."
She watched him crumple the letter and toss it towards her overturned trashcan, then watched him bend down and kiss her. His lips were soft and promising against her own and she couldn't wait to see where things went from here.
----
Ginny stood next to Draco and stared at the family tree spread out over what was his father's desk at Malfoy Manor.
"I remember some of this from…well, I've seen this before." Ginny caught herself, not wanting to reveal Grimmauld place even in the afterlife. "Except, I never looked at it this closely. You'd think, since it seems you and Harry are kind of cousins, you'd get on."
Draco snorted as he walked around to the other side and looked at it upside down. "Never. But, check this out. Remember how I said that the house Potter bought was Phineas Nigellus'?" His long pale finger pointed to the topmost name, then drew a line down to Dorea Black. He didn't need to say anything as Ginny's eyes widened in comprehension, as she saw, right there in black and white, a Potter marrying a Black. She wondered if she had been Slytherin like most of the Black's and wondered how they came to fall in love.
"Well, I guess those are Harry's grandparents. No wonder he feels a pull to that house. Combine that with the spot in the basement, there has to be something family oriented in that wall."
"Lovegood didn't tell you anymore, did she?"
"She couldn't. Not even Bill, whose great at curse breaking, could find the key to reveal what was behind the wall. Makes me wonder if it's a dark magic; maybe something unwritten."
"What would a Black want to hide in the wall that would draw a Potter to it?" Draco asked, his finger resting on his name: 1980-2001, which had been written in hours before by his mother, who only shed a few tears as she wrote the numbers down in her careful handwriting. She had left when they heard the tell tale "whoosh" of someone flooing Malfoy Manor.
Ginny was quiet for a moment, mulling everything over. Leaning down, to get a closer look at the names, she let her eyes wander over the parchment, totally surprised at the number of last names she recognized from her years at school.
"Possibly something a Black stole from a Potter?"
"Maybe," a low voice came from near her ear. Her eyes shot up and saw him crouched down, seemingly resting his chin on his crossed arms, which were placed on the desk. "Makes the most sense so far. But, there isn't much you can do, especially if you get pushed away every time you tried to go through that section. You didn't feel any pull towards that part of the wall did you?" he asked seriously.
Ginny met his eyes and slowly shook her head. "Why would I?" She watched his eyes and finger dart to the left
most part of the parchment.
"Ignatius Prewett…wasn't that your mother's maiden name? You'd be related, just as much as me, to the Potter's."
"No, I didn't feel anything. It was meant for a Potter; for Harry. That much I know. I can feel it." Ginny pushed herself away from the table as Narcissa came walking back into the study and reached for the parchment. Instead of rolling it up, she took out a quill and, with a hand that was visibly shaky, began writing something next to Draco's name.
"What in the hell is she doing?" Draco asked, coming to Ginny's side so he could get a better look. A moment later, Narcissa stepped back and Ginny's eyes went to the red quill which she recognized as a non-permanent inking quill.
"Fuck," she heard Draco whisper and she looked down where the quill had been moments before.
Draco Malfoy===Pansy Parkinson
1980-2001~~~~~~ 1980-
:
Twins due late Dec. 2001
"You're going to be a father," a surprised whisper fell from Ginny's lips. However, Draco didn't move. He was stock still, almost frozen in place, as he watched his mother cast a drying spell on the ink, then begin to roll it up.
"Draco…you okay?" Ginny asked, not sure why she was asking quietly. His shoulder twitched, the only indication he gave that he heard her. Tentatively, she reached out and touched his arm, feeling something flutter under her fingers as she rested her hand on his upper arm.
"Draco? Let's go somewhere else and think about this, okay?" she was thoroughly surprised to see him nod slightly then turn towards her. His face was unreadable, but a spark of something filled his grey eyes then faded away. She had no idea what she just saw but knew he must be conflicted in what he was supposed to be feeling. He had just found out he was going to be a father. Pansy was probably three months along and from the way Draco reacted he never knew she was pregnant.
"Come on," she whispered and was surprised to feel his warm arm turn in her grasp as he followed her out of his mother's den and into the dusky twilight. Ginny had never known Draco to be at a loss for words and so readily do what she asked. She felt this was affecting him more than anyone would ever know and secretly, she hoped he would let her know just how much this hurt.
She wanted to help him.
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