First in the new Crusade story, second in the Conversion series. As always, JKR's work is her own and is not mine - anyway, get off my back, she said she likes the whole fan-fiction scene anyway! More to the point: enjoy!
The Crusade should be read after Conversion - it is a sequel, after all... :D
Thanks for all you're support, and by the way, I'm looking for a beta-tester. Anyone help? No-one too... severe, please!
Glass Walls
Cool autumnal light of mauve and peach fell calmly through one of the high stained glass windows into Hogwarts library, hitting the back of Ginny's neck and casting her shadow across the table. Cocooned at the end of one of the rows of shelves with Harry, Ron and Hermione, her fingers restlessly plied the pages of large, heavy volume – gilt-edged and gold-rimmed pages, decorated with massive coloured drawings that swam with movement. Her back was burning from the fire smouldering behind her at the end of the row, encouraged by the woollen jumper she was wearing. Her mind, however, was nowhere near the hot library, but was corridors away in a far distant Charms lesson.
Ginny gazed softly at the picture before her. It depicted a scene in which a great golden dragon was flying – with unfathomable lightness and grace - amongst snow-covered mountain tops, breaking through lazily furling cloud and into patches of bright, warm sunlight. Its painted scales glistened magnificently, and Ginny felt herself slipping away from her seat and into its realm. No matter how hard so tried to concentrate on what the words on the opposite page said, all she could do was blindly take in the patterns of the dragon's movement, and think about that classroom, three floors away, where she could see Draco in her mind's eye. Right now, either he'd be drumming his fingers impatiently on his desk, trying to make the lesson end faster, or else sitting at the front steeped in concentration the likes of which she could only hope to gain, in the hopes of avoiding confrontation with his new Slytherin enemies.
Since the scandal they had created weeks before at the Halloween Ball, Draco had been hounded by the Slytherins. Questions of what in hell he was doing plagued him everywhere he went in Hogwarts and beyond, and subtle ploys, provocations and plots that would be injurious to him were growing in frequency and severity – during the most recent excursion to Hogsmeade, he'd apparently had an un-hatched Doxy egg scrumptiously hidden in his bag by some unknown assailant. Once he'd returned, he'd almost been expelled for trying to sneak it into the castle. Luckily, as McGonagall had no proof he'd deliberately tried to smuggle it in, there was little she could do without evidence.
Whenever Ginny spoke to Draco about this though, he of course denied that these instances were troubling him. He always professed that to be able to know Ginny in the open was enough to make up for it, but Ginny could see quite plainly that he was getting continually more tired and hacked-off with these events. She didn't mention this, or at least, she hadn't yet. She knew she would have to talk to someone about it sooner or later, though, for fear of Draco's safety.
As of yet, their romantic association remained a heavily guarded secret. So heavily guarded, in fact, that nobody knew about it. As Ginny felt it wise not to mention Draco in public, and especially not to Harry, Ron and Hermione, they assumed that she had lost her interest in him, and that her one slip-up at the Ball had been purely to dismay and alarm. This wasn't true, obviously – she cared for Draco as fervently as she ever had – but admittance of this she knew wouldn't sit well with them.
When she'd returned from the funeral, after insuring Ron, Harry and Hermione wouldn't miss her presence for the few days she was absent, she and Draco had decided that keeping everything quiet would be safer for both. Ginny said it was because she didn't want the Slytherin's messing things up. Draco said it was because he didn't want Ron spontaneously combusting.
This hadn't perturbed the Slytherins. They were either still convinced that there was something going on, or Draco had alienated himself so completely that even if there wasn't, he couldn't retain a dominant place in Slytherin ranks. On the other hand, he was spending so much lesson time concentrating on his actual work that his grades now exceeded most in the years', excepting Hermione's.
"Found anything yet, Gin?" Ron asked, rousing her from her thoughts. She glanced at the page, flicked a couple over in what she hoped was a frustrated manner, and sighed.
"Nope, not a thing," she said heavily. When Hermione looked downcast, she added, "Well, you did say it was unlikely there'd be anything here, 'Mione. If You-Know-Who's really going to hide clues to his Horcruxes, he's not really going to be hiding them here, is he? The one place Dumbledore would have been sure to know everything that went on in the castle."
"But Dumbledore once said that even he didn't know everything that went on in the castle, Ginny," Harry chipped in, slamming his book shut and grabbing another. "There's a chance that if Voldemort was so attached to Hogwarts, then there could be a vital clue somewhere here, somewhere hidden."
"So you're saying all we have to do is look, and You-Know-Who's Horcrux clue's just going to leap up like an epiphany?" Ginny made a very sceptical glance around the book-laden walls. "I'm not exactly buying it, Harry."
"No one said this would be easy."
"Actually, you did: 'Coming down to help us, Ginny? We've been through half the library already; we're practically on top of it. Easy-peasey,' is what you actually said, remember?"
"Not 'peasey'. I never said 'peasey'."
"You sure?" Ron said. "Sounds like something you'd say..."
"No it doesn't," Harry said firmly, getting annoyed. "Not once have I ever said 'peasey', and I don't intend to start."
"Alright, Harry, calm down," Ginny said, smiling. "We're only joking—"
"Yeah, well, you try joking the next time we hear about another death at Voldemort's hand, another kid found at his mother's throat because he's under the Imperious—"
"Harry!" Ginny snapped, scowling. "That's enough. For Merlin's sake, keep it down, or Pince'll have us chucked out and no one'll be looking for anything. Harry, I know you're feeling the strain—" she added, more gently, while Hermione and Ron looked away, then got up and wandered down the central aisle to leave them alone. Harry, meanwhile, snorted.
"Strain? You haven't felt strain like this, Ginny—"
"Yeah, yeah, okay Harry, you've got it hard. Harder than anyone in your position should have to deal with. But like it not, you've accepted that Dumbledore gave you this mission, yes?"
Harry shrugged. "Of course I have—"
"Well then. You know you also have a responsibility to us, your friends. We need you to know that for some of us, who aren't as strong as you, we need to laugh. We need to laugh, or we'll cry, Harry."
Harry looked at her across the table top of open books and notes and paper and quills, and reached his hand out under the sun's quiet glare, grasping hers.
"I know, Ginny. I'm just... tired."
Ginny smiled. "You're always tired." She glanced at the clock. "Go up early to the Common Room. One early night couldn't hurt—"
He shook his head furiously. "Yeah, yes it could. One early night, and I'll miss it."
Ginny squeezed his hand. "You know that's not true. Not really."
"No," he shrugged, "not really. But it's the only way I'll keep going."
Harry dropped her hand as he got to his feet and wandered off down the middle row after Ron and Hermione. Ginny watched him, as he raised his fingers and rubbed the bridge of his nose under his glasses. She wondered how anyone with such an almighty burden weighing down their soul could keep going at all.
"I haven't got to start getting jealous of Potter, have I?"
Starting slightly, Ginny spun around, half-falling off her chair. Grabbing onto the side of the table, she managed to retain her balance, and got to her feet as smoothly as she could as Draco lent around the end of the bookcase, smirking.
"You don't have to get all weak-at-the-knees on my account, Ginevra Weasley; my ego is quite large enough as it."
"I fact I am well aware of," she replied, grinning. Tucking her chair under the table, Ginny rested her weight on the table, leaning on one of the books. "You're meant to be in Charms, aren't you?"
"Meant to be. But old Flitwick didn't notice me slip out early – one of the Ravenclaws had turned his chandelier into some kind of hanging basket arrangement."
She raised an eyebrow. "Surely that couldn't have been that distracting?" she asked, as Draco sidled down the row between the books and the table, tucking chairs in as he went.
"Well, no, it wouldn't have been. Except the flowers in the basket were letting out both a high-pitched whine, and a semi-toxic sleeping draft."
"Ah."
"Ah indeed," Draco nodded. "But there you are, trust Ravenclaws to perform magic with flair and originality required, and this was inevitable, really."
Ginny shook her head. "Shut up, Draco. Ravenclaw is a highly acc—"
"Accomplished house, yes, you've told me so before." Ginny looked up at him, and was inexplicably irritated when he dropped his gaze to the table. His brow furrowed.
"You've been busy."
She nodded. "Yeah, we're still searching."
"For those Horcrux things?"
She nodded. "Yes. But no luck. In truth, none of us really knows what we're doing or where to look."
Draco paused, his long fingers tracing the cover of the book she, earlier, had been using to disguise her day-dreaming. "Maybe I could help?"
She blinked. "I'm not sure Harry would—"
"But I'm not offering to help Harry, I'm offering to help you. And there's a good chance – an excessively good chance, in fact – that I'll know where to look a lot better than your Phoenix lot. Being of the ancient house of Malfoy, and everything." His grey eyes were fixed stubbornly on hers but were soft in jest. In his expression she could read a small amount of shame too.
Ginny smiled. "Then any help would be much appreciated," she agreed, lifting her weight off her arm, which had gone slightly numb. There was a quick sting in her finger and she gasped in surprise. She looked down to see blood blossoming.
"Paper cut," she explained, seeing Draco frown at her sharp intake of breath. He reached for her hand and pulled his wand out. Without a word he flicked the wand at the minute cut and it instantly healed. "Those non-verbal charms are coming on nicely," she said. Her neck felt warm from the feel of Draco's hand around hers.
Tilting her chin up towards him, Draco dropped his mouth to hers. Immediately Ginny felt the familiar mixed sensation of excitement at snatching a moment with him, and fear at the thought of getting caught. With her hearing apparently ultra-sensitive, she heard footsteps just past the end of their row.
They'd been caught out like this before now, for the simple reason that there was almost nowhere in the castle that was private and unguarded anymore. However, in every instance like this before now, they'd managed to cover it. One of them could hide, both of them could hide, or they could at least be far away enough from one another that suspicion never appeared. This time, though, they were trapped. And she knew before she saw them the expressions on the faces of Harry, Ron and Hermione as they rounded the corned and seemed to walk into a glass wall with shock and surprise.
Ginny couldn't remember the last time she'd seen that much disgust and revulsion cross her brother's face. And the fact that it had been directed straight at her was more unsettling to her than any number of mentions of Voldemort's latest hobby of using their children as means of disposing of adults who got in his way. The anger that seemed to alight behind his eyes was completely set against the calm, ocean blue colour there, and his hair colour made him look as if he had quite literally set himself on fire with rage. Far from being amused though, as she had been when Draco had first suggested it, she physically couldn't breathe for the furious drumming in her chest.
Harry, likewise, was livid. What was worse about his rage, though, was the hot, burning hurt and pain that seemed to press on him from every angle. He looked personally betrayed, and was no doubt thinking about the conversation he had had with her mere minutes ago, where she had been a friend, an essential lifeline, and was now as deep-set an enemy as Draco himself.
Ginny was perfectly aware that what they were seeing was making each of their separate stomachs turn with fire. Ginny didn't even dare look at Hermione, but tried to coax her various body parts into moving themselves, slowly, from where they rested – her leg was wound around Draco's, so that her stomach was pressed so tightly against his hip that her balance was completely reliant on the fact that she was holding onto Draco's neck and waist.
Before she could even properly stand on her own two feet, both Harry and Ron had moved. At first she expected them to turn their wands on Draco, but instead – and this was what made her feel like several whole ice cubes had fallen down her throat into her stomach – Harry simply blinked for several dumb-struck moments and then, with a look so hard as to rival Hagrid's rock cakes, turned away and left as abruptly as he could. Ron took a few more seconds, during which he seemed to be employed in gathering the shattered remains of his temper, and then, shaking, stormed from the library, his lips pressed tight-shut as if he was about to be physically sick.
Ginny, at last, peered towards Hermione. She looked calmer than Harry and Ron, which, understandably, was not difficult, but Ginny could see something that was not directed towards her in the back of Hermione's gaze, but Draco. Pure and unadulterated hatred spilled from her eyes, and almost made Ginny want to step before Draco in protection in case Hermione had learnt to shoot jets of white-hot flame from her eyes.
"Hermione—" she began, but before she could finish Hermione spoke.
"I think it would be a good idea if you left, Ginny."
Suddenly braver, Ginny shook her head. "No thanks."
"What d'you think I'm going to do, Ginny?" Hermione snapped. "Go back to the Common Room; I can hardly going to harm him in a school full of Aurors and teachers, can I? Least of all in the library."
Ginny didn't move at first. Then Draco, from whom she'd managed to disentangle herself, placed a hand on her shoulder and bent down to her ear, his eyes on Hermione.
"Don't worry, Ginny, I'll be okay. She's right; she's not the type to harm me. Not in the library, at least," he added, squeezing her shoulder gently and smiling grimly. "Go, I'll listen to her. Go on. I'll talk to you later."
Eventually, Ginny nodded, slowly, and then, waving her wand at the piles of books on the table, sent them flying back into there various original spaces. She left the library quickly, and headed, not for the Common Room, but for the nearest Girls' Bathroom to lean heavily over the porcelain sink while she tried to stop herself trembling.
As always, that's it for now. Apologies for mistakes - this is read-through but un-beta-ed. Comments?