Hello, puppies!
Eww, that sounds kinda gross. Let me try again:
Hello, chickens!
Chapter Six has arrived, and what a chapter it is.
So read on, enjoy, and review!
Disclaimer 6: I DON'T OWN HARRY!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Chapter Six: Decisions, Decisions
Professor McGonagall was waiting for the boys when they finally entered her circular office. She nodded to Blaise, who promptly disappeared, leaving Draco alone with the Headmistress.
"What's going on?" the blond boy asked sharply. His blue-gray eyes drilled holes through Minerva's face. Even though he was many years younger than her, she still felt like a little girl looking at someone in command.
"The arrogance of the young, assuming that everything is about them," quipped the Scottish woman. She shuffled some papers around on her disorganized desk and gestured towards the chair in front of it. "Please, have a seat."
He sat. "I'm assuming that you're not calling to congratulate me for being a good little prefect." Draco smirked. The fight was back in him; the kiss had imbued him with an incredible amount of strength. He felt like he could jump buildings.
"No, as a matter of fact I'm not, Mr. Malfoy." Professor McGonagall said, folding her hands in front of her on her desk.
"Well then, why the summons?"
"What are you doing with Ginevra Weasley, Malfoy?" she asked bluntly in a cold tone of voice.
Draco colored at the mention of her name. God, it was seriously pathetic the effect Ginny had on him. He had to get a grip. "Nothing," he lied smoothly. But the blush gave him away.
"Because of the incidences in June-"
"I didn't kill Dumbledore," Draco droned. "Professor Snape did."
McGonagall cleared her throat. "I realize that, Mr. Malfoy. But the fact remains that that Mark-" She gestured to the tattoo on his arm. He realized with a plummeting feeling in his stomach that his sleeves were still rolled up from when he had shown it to Ginny. "-makes you, well, a marked man."
"Look, Professor, I understand your concern. But I have been cast from the Death Eaters. They don't want me around any more than you do."
The older woman smiled a dry smile. "As much as I would love to believe that, Mr. Malfoy, you pretty much lost my trust a while back."
Draco bit his lip, exasperated. The old bat couldn't understand. McGonagall probably knew nothing about love. "Professor, I don't know how I can say this without sounding disrespectful. But you probably don't know anything about love, do you?"
He was astounded to see McGonagall's eyes fill with tears at the mention of the word. "I wouldn't say that, Mr. Malfoy," she said quietly, a blush coloring her face pink.
Draco definitely didn't want to get into a discussion of his headmistress' love life. He hurried on. "Then you'll know what I mean when I say that I love her, and I would give her the world if I could, and I honestly don't care what the Dark Lord can do to me as long as she's safe."
The Professor's eyebrows knit together. "Really?"
The blond boy was getting angry. "I know you don't believe me! I know! I can see it on your face! And I really don't care if she doesn't love me back, I don't care if she hates me, actually! As long as she's safe, nothing else matters," he whispered more to himself than her.
A rueful smile flitted across the Headmistress' wrinkly face. "Very well then, Mr. Malfoy. I don't entirely trust you, but I shall have to wait and see how things play out."
He stood, and she waved him towards the door. Draco was almost out of her office when she called him again. "Mr. Malfoy."
The blond boy raised his eyebrows. McGonagall pointed at his arm. "You may want to cover that up."
He looked down at the Dark Mark on his forearm and grimaced, tugging down the sleeves of his shirt until they reached his wrists. "Goodbye, Professor."
She nodded curtly at him and he stepped onto the moving staircase, eager to meet Blaise and explain.
Once the boy was out of her office, McGonagall sighed. Her dark eyes filled with tears that were threatening to spill down her wrinkly cheeks. The Headmistress of Hogwarts swiveled around in her chair to view the old portraits of the heads of school. The most recent one was snoozing in its picture.
"Oh, Albus," she sighed, wiping a tear away furiously. "I miss you."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ginny knew that it was stupid. She knew that it would never work in a million years, that everybody would hate her, that she would have less friends than she already did.
She also really didn't care.
About thirty seconds after Draco left the library, she leapt to her feet, suddenly wired. Ginny felt like she could do anything: leap buildings, climb about four mountains, impress Professor Snape. And still have energy to come back and snog Draco with.
First things first. She had to apologize to Hermione. She had been absolutely awful to her, and the fact that Mione had stolen her boyfriend was no excuse. Ginny bounded out of the library. She thought she caught a glimpse of Blaise and Draco rounding a corner, but quickly dismissed it to her overactive imagination.
She practically skipped up the stairs, eager to reach the common room and repent for her meanness. Ginny rounded the corner quickly and-
BANG!
A stack of books, papers, and quills flew into the air as she smacked right into the person she was looking for. "Ooh, I'm sorry," Hermione said from the floor. "I'm a little distracted these days." The older girl cringed, waiting for an Oh, really? or I just bet you are.
To her surprise, Ginny smiled. "Happens to me all the time."
Together, the two girls cleaned up the mess until the corridor no longer looked like the site of a large explosion. Hermione flopped down on the floor, leaning against the wall. "Phew," she sighed.
The brown-eyed girl glanced up at her companion, half-afraid that Ginny was going to deliver some snotty comment or admonishment. Instead, Hermione was astonished to see the Weasley girl beaming down at her. "Umm…"
Ginny joined her on the floor. "Cat got your tongue?"
"Uh…nooo…well, I was sort of wondering why you were talking to me?" Hermione said, phrasing it as a question.
Ginny smiled benignly. "What, can't two friends converse anymore?"
"You haven't really been talking to me since, well, since Harry and I got together." It did not escape Ginny's notice that Hermione's eyes lit up when she said the Boy-Who-Lived's name.
Ginny waved a hand dismissively. "I've gotten over it."
The older girl raised an eyebrow. "Somebody else?"
"No!" But her blush gave her away. Ginny sighed. "Okay, yes, there is someone else," she admitted, staring at her hands.
"Ah, l'amour," Hermione sighed melodramatically. They both giggled. Then the brunette's eyes lit up with curiosity. "Who's the lucky guy?"
Ginny groaned. "Oh, Jesus. Can we not get into this?"
Hermione shoved her playfully. "Come on, spill."
"You're not going to like it," Ginny warned her.
"I think I can handle it," Hermione replied seriously. It was true. They had all been through at least one thing together: Dumbledore's death. Having a beloved father figure die gave you some measure of fortitude.
"Oh, crap. Well, let's put it this way," Ginny started, running a hand through her hair. "What if I was in love with someone you really, really don't like?"
"Like Malfoy?" Ginny cringed and blushed, but Hermione misinterpreted the gestures. "Don't worry, just for an example."
"Yeah…sure. What would you say about it?"
Hermione sighed, knocking her head back against the stone wall. The light from the torches on the walls made her brown, curly hair seem shiny and lustrous. Ginny felt ashamed that she had ever even thought Hermione ugly for a second. How could she?
"I guess…" Hermione said slowly, "I guess I would try to be happy for you, and get over it. But if I were you-" she was suddenly stern, "-I would definitely make sure that it's not some horrible joke or prank or something."
They were subdued for a few minutes, watching the torches cast flickering lights on the walls. Then Ginny stood swiftly, fluidly. "I've got to go," she said, saying the words almost before she said them. Then she took off in the direction of the dungeons.
Hermione shook her head once the younger girl was gone. "She needs to accept the fact that we don't care who she loves."
Then she gathered her books and left and the corridor was empty.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ginny was panting when she found Blaise lounging in an empty classroom on the first floor. The dark-skinned boy stared at her, concerned, until she had found her breath again. "Are you okay?" he said when she stopped gasping.
"Just peachy," she replied, still red-faced. "I have a question."
"Shoot." He flicked his wand at the blackboard, turning it blue. Ginny wondered what kind of person did stuff like that in their spare time.
"Does Draco really love me?"
The words had tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. Blaise looked shocked for a minute, then his face relaxed.
"I assume he gave you the whole expectations spiel?" Ginny nodded, not sure what she felt when she found out that she wasn't the only one who had heard his speech.
"Didn't realize he had told her everything," Blaise muttered under his breath. How could one person take it when Draco unloaded everything onto them?
"He told me enough," Ginny said hotly. She bit her lip. "You still haven't answered the question."
"Ginny, I'm a third-party observer. I watch, I make snide comments, I make sure nobody gets hurt. But something like that, you have to decide for yourself. I would like to say, however, that he does spend a fair amount of time thinking about you." Blaise lay sprawled across three desks that were shoved together, staring at the ceiling. He looked over at her. "That has to mean something, right?"
"Right," she said slowly.
"As an observer," said the seventh-year, warming up to his subject, "I would like to put in a good word for my friend Draco. He's a bastard, he as good as killed the headmaster, but he's genuinely sorry. And that, my friend, is a rare trait."
Ginny bit her lip, thinking. "Does it really have to be him or them?"
Blaise smirked, stealing Draco's favorite expression. "What do you think?"
"God, I don't know what to think!" Ginny moaned. "That's why I came to you! You're supposed to do the thinking for me!"
Suddenly Blaise was standing above her, eyes blazing, looking down with a disgusted expression. "You think this is any easier for me than it is for you? Do you think it's fun for me, watching her throw herself like an idiot at your moron brother who's too thick to realize what he's throwing away for that loony blond? Do you?" His voice rose in pitch. "I have to tell her how to get him, every day, and now I need to help you too. Shit. This is too much."
He collapsed into a chair, holding his head in his hands. "Alice…" he moaned faintly. "You're such an idiot, but I love you."
Ginny laid a hand on his arm; he looked up with hopeless eyes. "You help me, I help you. Fair?"
In an instant Blaise was up again, an expression rather like a begging dog on his long face. "You know her? You can help me?"
"Down, boy," Ginny laughed. "Not well, but yeah, I know her."
He smiled and shook her hand. "So, Draco. Do you love him?"
She thought, furrowing her brow. He had kissed her like he did. He acted like he did. But you could never tell…
She shook her head. "I don't know. But I can find out."
And suddenly, for the first time since she could remember, Ginny knew exactly what to do.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
People to thank, people to thank…
Nope. I got nothing. So thanks everybody who reads fanfiction!
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