Chapter Two
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"She never says a word, hasn't for a long time now. Not even those screams make sense, and you can usually tell what's wrong when someone's yelling with words," the healer was saying, willing and eager to supply him information, if only to be in his presence another minute.
"So no one knows why she doesn't like to be touched? Or be spoken to directly?" Draco asked.
He'd watched Ginny over the past week, seeing how she stayed in her room for nearly all that time, until the group sessions in the common area. He'd seen how she listened to people's conversations, her head titled to the side with her eyes closed, how she didn't look at anyone for long at all.
Her case intrigued him more than most, even though he hadn't chosen this ward for her in the first place. But he had a feeling that Ginny knew that. He'd felt her in his mind, a talent used with such subtlety that he almost missed the feather-light touch, and yet he'd still let her see it all.
He knew from the other healers that she hadn't had any visitors in a long time - possibly years - and only the ones who had been working there the longest remembered her birthday. Even the Longbottom's had more visitors than the Weasley girl, and due to the war, the Weasley's were just as revered and loved as the Longbottom family. Yet, here she was - the youngest in such a favoured family - completely forgotten by everyone.
"No one knows a thing. She just screams the moment anyone gets too close. Well, you saw her last week," the healer added, attempting a smile.
Draco just nodded, but didn't reply. He'd seen Ginny scream when she'd been touched, and avoid listening when someone spoke to her directly. She stayed away from the books the hospital provided - even the blank ones for drawing in - and she shut her eyes the moment anything written was brought near her. He'd seen many things over the course of the war, including fear, and it was easy to see that she was terrified, but he had no idea why.
The curiosity began eating at him, gnawing at his brain to find out what it was that had this girl so petrified. By the end of his shift, Draco had restrained himself three times from going into her room and shaking the answer out of her. He Apparated to Diagon Alley, ignoring the fawning witch who looked put out at his sudden disappearance.
Walking down the cobblestone street, Draco nodded or ignored witches and wizards who recognised him from the war. He didn't even stop to talk to Blaise, who had been one of the few who'd fought beside him, continuing to the very end of the street. Not bothering to glance up at the rooftop man with the top hat and disappearing rabbit, Draco opened the door and walked inside Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.
George greeted him with familiarity, but still looked surprised nonetheless. Draco wasn't surprised at George's reaction- they'd barely spoken after the war, and it was the first time he had sought the one-eared twin in years. When the last wandering child and customer had left the store, George locked the door and led Draco to the back rooms of the store without a word.
"What is it you want, Draco?" George asked, glancing at him as he stirred a potion simmering in a cauldron.
"I want to ask you about your sister," Draco replied, not bothering with formalities and niceties. He and George had known each other too long for such trivial things.
George stopped stirring the potion, and even though he couldn't see his face, Draco saw how tense his shoulders were, and figured that he had a death-like grip on the stirrer. Moving to him, Draco saw he was right. He took the stirrer from him before it shattered in his hands. George flexed his hand, but his tension didn't lessen in anyway.
"We... we don't talk about her, Draco," he said finally, turning away.
He purposely gave Draco his right side, the hole on the side of his head unable to hear much other than extremely loud noises these days.
Using a spell to project his voice to George's left side, Draco began again. "How long has it been since you last saw her? Has anyone told her that Fred's died? That Bill's all but become a werewolf? That Ron's married to Granger? Anything about the war? Did anyone even tell her that Voldemort came back?"
"We didn't want to worry her unnecessarily," George said, his words clipped. "And it's not like she didn't know about Voldemort coming back, what with him still inside her like that," he added, his hands clenched tightly.
"You don't believe that, George," Draco muttered, shaking his head at the older man.
"Have you seen her eyes?" George asked in disbelief, turning to face him.
"Yes, actually, I have," Draco replied. He crossed his arms across his chest. "I doubt anyone's seen her eyes for a long time, the way the other healers went on about it," he added, a smirk slipping on his face.
"And? Were they still red? Could you feel Voldemort staring at you from behind those eyes? The eyes that used to be my sister's?" George asked, his voice raising.
"They were brown, George; as brown as yours. Not a hint of red in them. And Voldemort is long gone from wherever he was inside her. I would have known if there was even a trace of him in there," Draco added, his hand slipping to his left forearm.
"That's what we thought, you know," George replied. "Even had Snape come look at her, to check. He said the same as you: Voldemort wasn't in there. We even started to believe him, and then... Then she got hold of a healer's wand." His voice dropped and he rubbed his face, his body still tight and tense. "They say that Alice and Frank still can't go near Ginny without screaming. It was the last straw for Neville, you know. He used to visit her every fortnight when he saw his parents, but after that... Well, could you blame him?"
Draco watched as George continued to talk about Ginny, the words spilling from him, as if they'd been pent up for a long time. He didn't interrupt; just listened as George talked about the last time he'd gone to visit Ginny, sans the rest of his family.
"It was a week before Fred died, actually. I thought she might want to talk, might've thought that Mum and Dad had been too suffocating or whatever. She just stared at me. I tried to take her hand, or something, I don't even remember now, and she just started screaming. She wouldn't stop, she just screamed and screamed. And her eyes were red; that I remember clearly. The healers pushed me out of the room, and I... I just didn't go back in. I couldn't, couldn't bring myself to see her like that again. I haven't been back since," he added, his throat constricting as he choked on a sob.
"Well, no wonder she screamed," Draco drawled. "She doesn't like physical contact, George. And I'm not surprised her eyes were red then; Voldemort was still alive, wasn't he?" George was silent, and Draco continued, "But he's dead now, isn't he? We all saw the proof of that when Potter cut his head off," he said.
"Took him a couple tries," George said, a grin flitting onto his face.
Draco snickered at the joke. It had taken Potter three times to actually get Voldemort's head off; something that was conveniently left out of all of the news articles and unofficial biographies that surfaced afterwards.
"So... She's all right now? Voldemort's really not there?" George asked, his throat feeling tight again.
"She's not all right, George. She's been deemed insane by the rest of the world, hasn't seen her family in years, and can't stand physical contact. Oh, and she also doesn't like to be talked to," he added.
"Doesn't like to be talked to?" George echoed, looking slightly confused.
Draco shrugged slightly. "She doesn't like people talking directly at her, but I've noticed that she listens to the conversations around her more often than not. She's not stupid, George."
"Never said she was," he replied defensively. Then his stern face slipped, and he just looked tired. "Well, I don't mind that she doesn't like being talked to. Not a fan of my own voice, really," George said, a slight grin surfacing.
"Could've fooled me," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "Just let me know if you do come to see her, George. I can get you to her quicker than the healers there. They'll try to drown you in red parchments," he added over his shoulder as he left the room.
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End of the second chapter.
Thank you for reading!
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