11. Celebrating Samhain
October, 1998
"Turn left," Ginny hissed to a hesitant, young girl. "The Frog Prince will ask you to retrieve his golden ball. It's better than having to clip the Pumpkin Man's toenails…."
The girl gave Ginny a bright smile and chose the left path as suggested. Lady Malfoy walked on, letting the cold air and brambles prick her skin. Suddenly, she heard the noise of crushed leaves behind her and spun around, her wand extending her arm by a few deadly inches.
"Who are you?" she snapped, annoyed at her own fear. For all she knew, it was probably one of the children. Regardless, she added, "Show yourself."
There was a silence as the shadows moved toward her. She hesitated to cast a Lumos spell, but that move could turn detrimental, instead, and she knew it.
What should I do?
"Now, now, now… You know who I am," a deep voice said, its intonation heavy with amusement and-
Cruelty? Merlin save me… Could it be…? No, not Tom. It can't be. What do I do now?
Draco, hidden in the darkness, drank the confused nectar of her thoughts.
Think, Ginny, think.
Ginny? he thought wonderingly. The name rang a bell.
"That's enough now," she said. Her voice wasn't as unwavering as she would have liked it to be. "Would you please come out of the shadows?"
Please, please, come out now, her mind repeated in an increasingly desperate way. Draco could sense the trills of panic coursing through her. He hesitated for a second, wondering what else he could glean from her frantic thoughts, but he felt her reach a peak and stepped out of the shadow.
"What were you playing at?" she snapped as she took in the satisfied glint in his eyes. His feline grace, amongst the other features he and Tom Riddle shared, made her uneasy still.
Tom Riddle? Draco grasped, startled. How does she know Lord Voldemort's name?
"Nothing, Ginevra. I was just looking for you," he said simply. Any woman would have been blessed to have Draco Malfoy looking for her, but at that moment, it seemed that he alone was aware of it.
"Well, you scared me," she retorted. Though she felt her limbs slowly relaxing, her heart threatened to imprint itself in her chest by its frantic beating.
"I didn't mean to," he lied without remorse. "Can I make it up to you?"
Draco, in tune with his wife's wishes and his own, laced his hand in her hair and pulled her close to him. That always worked with witches.
"`Sorry' would help," she said, nonplussed. Her eyes, made darker by the declining sun, shone with coppery gleams. Strangely enough, the color of her dress seemed to blend with her hair, and from head to toe, she was like a statue of reddish gold.
I have seen her somewhere before I met her, Draco thought, irrationally but with certitude.
"Malfoys don't apologize."
"No, they don't, do they?" she said, her voice metallic and cold like his so often was. "I have to make sure the children find their way to the center."
She turned around and walked away from him.
"You were right," Draco called out. That stopped her dead in her tracks.
"What do you mean?"
"The Lestrange kid."
"Leo," she corrected, but there was a softer curve to her expression.
"Well, he's back. You won the bet."
Tactfully, he started walking toward her. She looked at him, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. It was hard to remain annoyed with Draco when he wanted it otherwise-much harder, in fact- than to genuinely hate him. And that, Ginny thought, is what I do.
"Draco Malfoy, did I just hear you admitting you are wrong?"
"No," he said, and by then his arm had furtively snaked around her hips. "I'm merely saying that you are right. Now, how about you make sure the students don't get hurt, while I make sure you don't hex some innocent passerby, momentarily stunned to silence by your breath-taking beauty."
He raised an eyebrow, and she laughed. The signal of truce given, he kissed her. She responded, eagerly and without restraint as she always did, but was distracted by the task that lay ahead.
Leo… Not get hurt… Lorelei, Draco caught in her mind between rather un-cerebral moans of pleasure. Not wanting to keep her from her task, which she seemed to be taking very much at heart, he broke the kiss and directed her down the path. When he tried to probe her mind further, however, he found it impermeably sealed off.
Throughout the evening, they ran into a few puzzled children. None of them were hurt, though, merely put off by some fairy's puzzle or a ghoul's noisy havoc. They made their way rapidly through the maze, their path lit by the giant-fireflies. Wavering shadows crept and receded on the brambles' thorns, casting impressive spikes on the cold soil. When he saw Ginny shiver, he cast a warming spell on her cloak and made a mental note to buy her a new one. She flashed him a quick smile. They moved on.
When they had scoured the outer layers of the labyrinth, Ginny, relieved, claimed that Angela's staff would take care of the rest. They Apparated to the center of the maze. It was a vast square in whose corners pyres had been raised. Four fires crackled energetically as witches and wizards set up heavy, wooden tables in their light. Amidst those tables and benches, Pansy Parkinson and Vivian Silverspring, their wands pointed to the floor, were drawing thick ridges in the ground. Upon seeing the Malfoy couple, Pansy shot one last spell from her wand, then headed for them.
"It's done, Ginevra," she said. Her voice lacked the antipathy which had characterized it during the first weeks of Draco and Ginevra's engagement. "Vivian is carving the final runes, but my knowledge of those is so limited that I'm afraid I can't be of further help in that regard. When are our families arriving?"
"Thank you. Wait…our families?" Ginny asked, surprised.
"Well, the Parkinsons are related to the Carlysles, the Hopkins, the Diggorys…" Draco began counting.
"The Notts, the Zabinis, and the Crabbes. I'm sure there is a link to the Malfoys, somewhere, but not in the last four generations," Pansy said, the ghost of a smile on her lips. "Maybe next time."
"Maybe next time," Draco conceded. Her recent civility toward Ginevra pleased him.
Ginny shuddered at the thought of her children having anything to do with Pansy's. She also shuddered at the suggestion of her bearing Draco's children, but it wasn't as repulsive a thought as it should have been.
"The Prewetts won't be coming. I don't think the Lestranges could make it In fact, the Averys, Crabbes, Goyles, and Rosiers aren't coming, either. But the rest of the children's parents sounded like they would be here," Millicent read from a small note pad.
"Thanks, Millie," Vivian said as she reached their little group. "The pentacle is ready. Are you sure this is all we need to do? No powders, plants, potions?"
Ginny shook her head.
"It has much more to do with the time of the year and the spirits of the departed- once they momentarily return to the earth- than with us. We're just… witnessing, I suppose. The pentacle is like the `window' that enables us to see what we usually don't."
"Will we see them as they were in life?" Draco asked. His expression was guarded.
"I don't know," Ginny said. "I had never lost anyone until recently."
There was a chill to her words that spread to the other wizards. Romilda Nott wondered whether guilt had pushed Draco to ask this question. If what Ginevra had implied was true, then he would understandably seek to avoid Lucius' ghost. But the young Lord Malfoy didn't look particularly troubled as he asked one of the attending nurses where the feast was and why it was taking so long.
"The house-elves are getting ready to send it, Lord Malfoy," the young woman said, keeping her eyes down out of respect and to avoid staring at his handsome figure.
Ginny charmed the pumpkins she had brought from Malfoy Manor to tumble elegantly from the bramble rampart. The enormous orange vegetables stuck mid-air by their thick stems. Suddenly, the tables covered themselves with wide and colorful dishes. Strewn between clay plates and wooden bowls, candles were gleaming. Ears of corn, small pumpkins, and candy lay on the table, scattered like so many jewels. Ginny turned to Draco, her face lit with a smile.
"Do you think they'll like it? They haven't had any appetizing food ever since they arrived here, and they'll have more candy than they can eat for weeks!"
"Aren't you the darling angel," he smirked, kissing her forehead.
"Don't be caustic. You don't know what it's like, enjoying an evening where candy is allowed!"
"You're right, I don't," he said without any trace of regret.
His eye was caught by a particular, yellow candy wrapper. "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes: Canary Cream," it read. A wave of nausea brushed through him, and he quickly dropped the candy.
Who could have reopened the store? Draco asked himself, forcing the foreign feeling-guilt or regret, he couldn't tell-out of his throat through a methodic recourse to rationality. He would ask his secretary to look into it. The number of wizards increased as newcomers Apparated inside the maze. Most of them were dressed in black, though Georgiana Diggory sported a pale gray dress and ice jewelry. Amanda Carlysle, for her part, wore her robes grass-green, had primroses around her wrists, and a cuckoo huddled in her chignon. Ginny had moved away from Draco and stood away from the growing crowd, at the frontier of the pentacle. She looked down, pensively.
Without a second's hesitation, Draco reached for her mind. Her head snapped up, and she looked around, eyes narrowed, her hand reaching for her wand. He figured that it was not the adequate moment and relented. Exclamations rose from a group of witches. Ginny turned to see the first student, Elizabeth Diggory, walking out of the maze under the adults' applause. Georgiana Diggory, usually serene and distant, caught her sister as soon as she had emerged and embraced her in a bear hug. Her reaction would have seemed disproportioned-- the febrility with which she caressed the girl's hair was almost unnatural-- had it not been for the memory of another Diggory, who hadn't been as lucky in a similar maze.
Elizabeth Diggory, green eyes shining, was directed to the head of the children's table. Her parents walked behind her, proud of their daughter's achievement. It didn't matter that she had barely used any magic, or that she and two of her friends had made their way through most of the maze together, only to separate at the end so as to not disappoint their parents. It had been fun, and the looks of affection Mrs. Diggory, Georgiana, and Lady Malfoy sent in Elizabeth's way were enough to make up for her initial fears.
"Look, it's Lorelei Prewett," called a voice as the redhead burst from the brambles, eyes shining with excitement. She peered around, a hopeful look on her face.
Ginny felt her heart clench with the knowledge that her parents weren't there. A subtle stream of disappointment filled Lorelei's eyes as she saw Ginevra-alone- walking toward her, but it was quickly replaced by a genuine smile.
"Eve and Leo are right behind," she said to Ginevra. Behind them, the Hopkins rejoiced as if their daughter had single-handedly won the House Cup. Ginevra thought sadly of Leo, whose parents, like Lorelei's, wouldn't be here to greet him. She bent down to Lorelei and gave her a strong hug.
"Looks like the women have the upper-hand," Vivian Silverspring commented as Eve Hopkins threw herself in her parents' arms.
"That shouldn't come as a surprise," Pansy Parkinson said, remembering how it had always been in Slytherin: the men talked, but the women pulled the strings. Except, of course, when Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were referred to.
"…and then the pumpkin-man said I'd have to clip his toes, and you should have seen them, they were all muddy and orange! So I said no, I'd rather not, and when he said I had no choice, I did Petrificus Totalus, and it worked!" Lorelei squealed delightedly.
"That's amazing! Full-body bind, that's a hard one, you know?"
"Yes! And with Gretel, we managed to figure out which parts of the candy-house were poisonous,-the Revelio Charm showed the ingredients- and there was Fanged Geranium in the door, windows, and chimney, so there was no way that could have been harmless. So, we took a piece of the front steps, and the wall of brambles fell down. Then we split up."
"Revelio? I didn't learn that one until my third year at least," Ginny said, uncertain whether she had ever learned it at all. The things these children were taught….
All of a sudden, she remembered Leo Lestrange, who had probably reached the center of the maze by now and would have found no one, not even Ginny herself, to congratulate him. She looked up. He stood in a corner, talking animatedly to Draco, who had squatted down casually by his side. Gratitude flooded her mind. When he looked up and their gazes crossed, she mouthed a heart-felt "thank you". He merely arched an eyebrow.
The children kept pouring into the clearing, usually followed by one or two nurses. They looked pleased with themselves. After giving in to their parents' greetings, which a number of the elder kids clearly resented, they hurried to the table where fountains of candy spilled from the Abundance Horns above them. They had begun bombarding each other with caramels when Angela Bjork established that they were all there and safe. She nodded to Draco, who coughed loudly. Quickly, the noise dwindled.
"Children, congratulations," he said, his voice surprisingly warm. Ginny was pleased to see the stance he was taking toward Squib children. "You've done quite a job, getting here on your own. I'm sure your parents are very proud of you, whether they showed up or didn't," he added pointedly, giving Leo Lestrange a conniving glance. "That being said, I invite you all to take a seat and enjoy the meal while we wait for midnight."
They followed his suggestion, and soon, the pumpkin soup, sweet potatoes, and turkey were being passed around. From the children's table shot laughter and excited talk about their time in the maze. They appeared to pay no attention to the adults at the neighboring tables, ostracizing, for the first time in their lives, those who had ostracized them ever since they had failed to show talent at magic.
Even the witches and wizards seemed pretty relaxed, however, as if the thought of facing the dead did not alarm them. Ginny could guess why some were absent. Most of those who hadn't shown up had been rumored or confirmed Death Eaters, and it was obvious they would not want to be put face to face with the ghost of one of their victims. As for herself, she did not know what to expect. She watched the hours pass by with growing anxiety.
Draco, meanwhile, was discussing with Gaheris Silverspring and Leander Carlysle the reforms of the British judiciary system suggested and supported by the Minister of Magic. While he partook in the discussion, however, his sense of midnight closing in grew acute. Everything around him became sharp and clear like a razor blade. The image of his father began superimposing itself to Gauvain Silverspring's elven features, to the looming shadows, to the fires that roared eagerly, delineated by semi-circles of runes. Ginny placed her hand on his thigh and murmured, "We should get ready. Do you want me to announce the rules?" It took Draco some time to process her words, his entire attention having been momentarily drawn to that area where her hand had entered in contact with his leg. He nodded.
"Ladies and gentleman," she announced, getting up. "In a few minutes, the clock, if we had one, would strike midnight. I understand that most of you are acquainted with the celebration of Samhain, but for the sake of the children, I will clarify the rules. Whoever wishes to participate will stand in this band over here." She pointed to a circular band that lay on the edge of the pentacle. "This is the closest you may get to the center of the pentacle; any closer would be dangerous, due to the magic involved and the temporary thinning of the barrier between life and death. The minor pentacles drawn around the fires will protect you entirely from the ghosts. If you choose to stand in those pentacles, you will not see the ghosts, nor will you be in contact with their power. The remaining area, between summoning and protective pentacles, is neutral. You might see flashes of departed souls here and there, and maybe you'll get a glimpse of their strength, but the effects are not guaranteed either way. For those of you who have never done this before, I suggest you either stick by the fire or line up along the summoning pentacle, but do not remain in between for too long. Is that clear?" she added, looking at the students.
They nodded. Some wizards walked over to the pentacle and motioned to their children to join them. Uncertainly, they did as they were told. Ginny eyed those parents scathingly. She smiled at those whose parents weren't there. In a way, she hoped that this would make the children understand that the choice was theirs and nobody else's. Georgiana Diggory stood by a protective fire, but her parents eagerly pushed Elizabeth toward the main pentacle before retreating with their elder daughter. Eve Hopkins, who was standing next to her parents, slid her hand into Elizabeth's. They gave each other courage. Leo Lestrange proudly marched into the pentacle. Ginny walked over to him and seized his hand; her other hand was shortly taken hostage by a fearful-looking Lorelei Prewett.
"Whose hand do I get to hold?" Draco mumbled sarcastically. Ginny gave him a mocking glance but didn't budge.
"Would you take mine?" came a soft voice behind him.
Ginny and Draco, surprised, turned to see Narcissa Malfoy, clad in dark-gray robes, her hair and neck lined with black pearls. Everything about her breathed mourning, and Ginny was struck by the pain she still seemed to exude. In a few steps, Draco had abandoned his wife. He took his mother's arm and let her lean on him as they walked into the pentacle. Ginny stood very still. The wizards who had already celebrated Samhain felt the sudden chill as it swept through their limbs; everything around them seemed to slow down and gain unearthly precision. The bright yellow light emitted by the fires faltered, diminished, then turned silvery. From the center of the pentacle shot a single ray of light. There reigned an eerie silence.
Slowly, the luminous pole began oscillating and formed a thin cone which, rotating on its axis, grew increasingly wide. It opened like a flower, flattening its folds to the ground, seeping through the silhouettes standing in the pentacle. They were illuminated by a faintly blue, whitish light. Shadows trickled from the center of the pentacle. Some moved on, wafting through the labyrinth of brambles before they reached a specific shape, while others huddled around the pentagon, clearly targeting certain families.
"Oh, Violet," Pansy Parkinson murmured to the form of a teenager with a pointed nose and waves of heavy hair. The ghost slowly moved its hand toward Pansy's cheek, and the gesture revealed incision of runes in the flesh of her arm. Pansy fell to the floor, sobbing.
Around her, more than one wizard wiped a tear. They were visited mostly by ghosts of wiry, old women and gnarled, old men, but here and there, a man in his early-forties would pat his live brother on the shoulder, or a little boy would hug his cousin, lost in a Death Eater raid. Draco and Narcissa, their faces masks of chalk, watched as the ghost of Lucius Malfoy, looking lifelike were it not for his white transparency, walked toward them. He cupped Narcissa's cheek tenderly, peering into her wide, blue eyes. Her lashes remained thick with tears as his fingers slid through them. Draco Malfoy stared at his parents, a knot in his chest, wishing he knew how to cry, but the bitterness and pressure swelled in his throat, poisoning his mind with sorrow, and no tears could rid him of those.
Meanwhile, Leo Lestrange eyed the ghosts uncertainly. A number of them swept past him and gave him a searching glance, and then, appearing to find him guilty, made threatening gestures. He would have been reassured had he not felt the strong connection of power that united them; this thick mass of pure energy that coursed through him and was undeniably the ghosts'. Lorelei Prewett opened her eyes to see two identical and amused faces peering at her. They were two young men, twins by the looks of it, and pointed alternately to her and to Ginny, whose hand in hers had gone limp. Draco and Narcissa Malfoy were too engrossed with Lucius' ghost to notice anything else.
The ghost of Bill came to Ginny first, his arm protectively cast around Fleur's shoulder. She walked slowly, cautiously, her belly enormous from the twins within. She pecked Ginny on her cheeks, smiling that smile of hers that had been made absolutely divine by pregnancy. Bill then enfolded Ginny in his arms, and she felt him as his limbs swept through hers like a rush of cold air. His scarred features shifted to accommodate a mature, resigned smile. Fred nudged Ginny's shoulder affectionately, then George attempted to ruffle her hair. He appeared truly distraught when his hand failed to affect her coiffure; a small laugh got caught in her throat. Each put a hand on her shoulder, and they gave her a searching look. There was seriousness in their faces like she had never seen before. A quick hug and they, too, were gone.
Percy, his cheeks still hollow from the guilt that would gnaw him for eternity, briskly threw his arms around her. She felt the despair and the frailty in a gesture so alien to him, and tears dribbled down her cheeks. Charlie was next, barely taller than her. He hugged her. Again, this brought a smile to her lips, as she knew she would have been crushed had he been concrete. He gave Lorelei a startled look, then gestured over to the shadows behind him, as if calling someone. He patted Ginny's cheek. Molly Weasley's plump form threw itself at Ginny, immaterial arms striving to get a hold of her daughter. Resigned, she dabbed her eyes with a stroke of her sleeve and placed her hands around Ginny's face.
Ginny, though by no means compelled by her mother's ghost, leaned forward. Molly placed a kiss on her daughter's forehead, hugged her tightly, hesitated, hugged her again, quickly kissed a surprised Lorelei on the cheek, and dashed. Arthur Weasley had been standing behind her. Pride shone in his eyes, and as any other proud father, he embraced Ginny. She let go of Leo and Lorelei's hand to hug Arthur, but he had stepped back, shaking his head sadly. The tall, gangly figure of Ron showed up at last, barely thickened by the few months of adulthood. He gave her a tender smile; the same, uncertain grin that he had greeted her with when she awoke from the Chamber of Secrets incident. That "I'm sorry I didn't protect you" grin. That "I love you too much to know what's good for you" grin. She hugged him fiercely and thought she could almost feel him.
Ron started, as if struck by a sudden thought. He squeezed her hand and walked away briskly. Ginny, her face red and itchy from crying, took hold of the children's hands again and waited for Harry Potter's ghost.
Lucius Malfoy at last placed his hand on his son's shoulder and nodded, for once, satisfied. Draco knew, better than he would have had he heard Lucius' own voice, what he meant. Lucius' gestures, rarely affectionate and always meaningful, spoke better than his words, which more often than not were deceiving and meant to be. Lucius smiled-his lips stretched to reveal pointy canines-and Draco felt relief flooding through him. His father approved; his father was proud. When Lucius turned back to Narcissa, Draco saw a bespectacled ghost standing a few feet from his father. The scar that had once marred his forehead crossed his eye and face until below the lip. Otherwise, he wasn't changed. He eyed Draco with what he, having grown up reading and peeving Perfect Potter, could only interpret as fierce loathing and, more surprisingly, pity.
Harry Potter walked away. Behind him stood Percy Weasley's gaunt figure. Draco stepped back, dropping his mother's arm. She didn't notice. Percy's glare was accusing. Percy's glare was nothing, however, to the look of hatred the Weasley twins and the rather short and stout Weasley man gave him. Arthur and Molly Weasley's contempt was laced with a hint of compassion, though where had they pulled that from, Draco could not guess. He fought not to run away. The sourness in his throat intensified when he saw a young man with a pony-tail, who would have been a handsomer version of Arthur Weasley had his features not been scarred beyond recognition. Alongside him came a beautiful witch whom Draco had no difficulty identifying as Fleur Delacour. The sight of her round abdomen caused his nausea to swell. Bill Weasley glared at him, his eyes untainted by pity or understanding. Knowing he would be sick if he saw more, Draco finally stepped back, away from his mother and Lucius' mute but content ghost, away from his victims.
Ginny had been looking commiseratively at Pansy Parkinson's crumpled form when instinct made her shift her gaze. She found herself face to face with a disfigured Harry Potter, his face halved by the scar that now streaked down his eye, cheek, and mouth. Again, the tears welled in her eyes, though she couldn't find enough sorrow to justify them. The Weasleys' deaths and the year spent hunting Voldemort's Horcruxes had changed him beyond repair. Ginny doubted he would have wanted to survive his arch-nemesis. It had been this sole thought that had appeased her when the news of his death plagued the Wizarding World.
Harry was smiling. Had he been alive, his eyes would have sparkled like scrubbed and varnished fresh, pickled toads. Ginny was relieved to see the calm resignation he exuded. Next to her, Leo Lestrange and Lorelei Prewett were gawking. Draco, having stepped out of the pentacle, watched the other wizards dealing with ghosts that were now invisible to him. Harry motioned to Ginny's left hand and she abandoned Leo's grip to place her fingers in the young man's immaterial palm. He saw the ring. She caught his look as he did, and in a moment of shame, she wanted to pull her hand back. Harry, still smiling, shook his head slowly, whether to condemn her wedding to Malfoy or her plot of revenge, she didn't know.
Draco hesitated to go pick Pansy up. She was still sobbing at her dead sister's feet, as if her parents' allegiance to Voldemort and the price they had paid were her cross to bear. His eyes lingered in his wife when he saw her leaning forward, her head tipped to the side and her eyes closed as she accepted what could only have been a kiss. A burning anger seethed in his insides, eradicating any earlier feelings of guilt and empathy. As Harry Potter's ghost remained absent from his view, Ginevra looked like she was kissing emptiness, and then she pulled back. Draco controlled the cold fury coursing him and walked toward her, discovering on her face a look of serene bliss that he longed to wipe away with a slap.
He tore her hand from Lorelei's grip and hauled her out of the pentacle. Dazed, still under the effect of the spell, she was startled by the similitude he bore to the carvings of fallen angels in Arthur Weasley's copy of the Bible. As children, she and Ron had enjoyed the stories of Adam, Eve, Abel, and Cain as much as the Arthurian Legends, allowing the fantastic illustrations of the books to fill their imaginations with monsters and saints. Lucifer and his chiseled beauty, wings burning as he fell from Paradise, had always been one of her favorites; lo and behold, it appeared she was married to his descendant.
"Draco, what-" she began. "Ow, you're hurting me."
He dragged her toward one of the fires. There was a lone figure prostrated in the light of one brazier, but few wizards remained. The night, accelerated by the evasion of the dead, was slowly slipping into dawn's blush and gold. Narcissa stood in the same place, locked with her husband in a discussion that transcended words. Millicent Goyle was seen helping Pansy up. They Disapparated.
"We're going home," Draco said.
"But the children," Ginny said, trying to loosen his grip on her wrist.
"Angela will take care of them," he retorted.
Ginny gave a befuddled Leo and Lorelei a farewell glance. Draco pulled her, and she bumped into him like one slams into a wall as he closed his arms around her and Apparated them both to Malfoy Manor.
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