Of Binding Spells and Chartreuse

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When Ginny opened her eyes in the morning, the other side of the bed was empty. She felt the pillow. It was cold. There was a slight indentation in it where a head might have lain, but she couldn't be sure. She got up and checked the bed carefully. There was no sign at all that anyone had been there. She sighed. I don't even know if Draco was really here, then. But perhaps... perhaps she would see him today, or at least learn more about how he was when she saw Dumbledore.

Madam Pomfrey was clanging together bedpans on the other side of the infirmary with unnecessary vigor and many sniffs. Ginny ignored her and ate the steaming breakfast of oat stirabout, rashers, and eggs that appeared on a tray on the bedside table. Then she dressed. She was still a bit shaky, but her appetite had returned. She felt steel-strong and even hopeful. She washed herself and dressed in green robes, and then sat on the bed and combed out her long hair with brisk, efficient strokes. Her head snapped up sharply at the sound of footsteps coming towards her end of the long room.

"George!" she said joyfully.

"'Lo, Gin. You look great." Her older brother chucked her under the chin. "I thought you were supposed to be sick."

"I was exhausted, that was all. I sort of collapsed, I think. But I'm better now." Ginny bit her lip, wondering how to ask what she most wanted to know.

"Ready to see Dumbledore?" George asked.

Ginny leaped to her feet. "Oh yes, yes!

"I thought you would be." George grinned and helped her put on outer robes, hat, scarf, and gloves.

"Where's everyone else?" asked Ginny, tucking the ends of the scarf into the collar of her long cloak.

"Bill and Charlie are in an Order meeting along with Mum and Dad, and so's Fred--he managed to talk his way in somehow. So there's only yours truly." George held out his arm for his sister with a flourish.

"But what about Ron?"

George didn't reply, but made an odd tugging motion with his left arm. Ginny wondered at that, but said nothing. Together, they walked out of the infirmary.

"Why'd you come, George? Did they send you?" she asked as they walked down the sloping hill that led down to Hagrid's hut and the fields just beyond.

"Good to see you, too, Gin." George pulled on one of her braids where it peeped out beneath the hat.

"I didn't mean that!" She cuffed her brother's arm lightly. "I'm so glad to see you, George."

"Likewise, sis. But you did need someone to bring you. Nobody's allowed to walk around alone now; it's too dangerous. And anyway you were in the infirmary for two days." His voice grew serious. "Are you all right, Gin?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Er...after everything that happened, I mean..."

They negotiated the steepest part of the hill then, and Ginny was glad. It gave her a chance to turn her reddening face away from him. "I'm perfectly fine, George," she said, once they were on more level ground.

"Gin, you have to tell me one thing. Just one. And then I promise I'll never ask about it again," George persisted.

Ginny groaned inwardly.

"When I let Malfoy in and then sent you off with him, did I make the worst mistake of my life?"

She stopped. They were on the flat fields just outside Hagrid's hut. "No, George," she said firmly. "I know what all of you thought Draco did to me, but it's just not true."

Her brother's face had turned an odd shade of bright red. "So, er, um, he didn't...?"

She sighed. "Well, not the way you think. Nothing happened that I didn't want to--"

An odd scuffling sound came from thin air at George's left side. He glared at it. "That's enough," he said. "What did I tell you?"

"What?" Ginny asked, confused. "You didn't tell me anything."

"Never mind," said George, turning back to her hurriedly. "I don't need to hear any more. I really don't."

"Well, you can tell me something, then. I heard you told Mum that I wasn't going to be home on Christmas Eve."

George nodded.

"Then how did the Order know to come and find us when they did?"

George grinned. "Gin, think about it for a moment. Who are you talking to?"

"You--I think."

"And who am I?"

As if it had happened long, long ago instead of three days before, Ginny remembered when her brother had asked Draco the same question. She smiled slightly, but did not reply.

"Half of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, that's who. Come round this way." George led his sister behind Hagrid's hut and across a field of tall dried grass, gone dead and brown in winter. The snow crunched under their feet as they continued walking.

"Fred and I set up wards around your rooms at the Leaky Cauldron before you went there to stay," he explained. "Mum insisted on it, you know."

"Mum? Oh..." Ginny did not know how to feel after hearing that, or rather, she thought, her feelings were very complicated.

"She'll come round, you know," said George.

"I know that she doesn't like Draco," Ginny mumbled.

"Could you reasonably expect her to? Could you expect that from any of us?" George's voice sharpened. "I don't say that I like him, if it comes to that."

"But then--" Ginny groped for a way to ask what she wanted to ask, but nothing graceful came to mind. She tried again. "Why--"

"I want you happy," George said simply. "We all do, Gin."

She kicked at a rock. "But could anyone else in the family have got past how much you've...we've... always hated all the Malfoys?"

"I doubt it. Fred was talking about invoking an ancient law that would've allowed us to shave off Malfoy's skin millimetre by millimetre with a dragon's tooth--We're not actually going to do it," George added hurriedly.

Ginny looked down at the snow for awhile, and they kept walking. "So why could you do what you did?" she asked.

George gave a long, deep sigh. "He makes you happy. And I could see it."

"You're right. I-- I don't really know how to thank you," Ginny said awkwardly.

"You can thank me best by not telling me any of the details. Anyway... they were good wards, the ones we put up. Although they really couldn't stand up to the likes of Lucius Malfoy. But we had a backup system as well. If anyone who intended to harm you managed to get past them and into your rooms, an alarm system would go off. First at the shop, and then at the Burrow."

"And that's what happened. And then you knew," Ginny said slowly, remembering what Draco had said just before the bathroom door had opened to reveal Ron and Harry, two days earlier. There's something else, Ginny. Something you may not have thought of. But I have.

Draco knew, she realized.

They stopped at the base of the tower. She shivered as she looked up its sloping sides, made of weathered granite blocks. It squatted in a field abutting the Forbidden Forest like some sort of sinister animal, crouching, ready to spring.

"Are you cold, Gin?" George asked.

"No." She watched her brother fish a ring of keys out of his pocket and extract a curious twelve-sided one. He fit it into the lock, twisting it in several different directions until the door swung open. He gestured her inside.

"Go on, Ginny. Dumbledore's waiting."

Her brows knitted together into a frown. "You can't go back on your own, though."

"Oh, I'll be all right."

"You can't," she persisted. "You said yourself that it's too dangerous."

"Don't worry about it. Don't you want to see Dumbledore? And Malfoy's still up there as well--" George's words were cut short by a furious snort that seemed to come from nowhere. He gave his left hand a vicious shake. "What did I say you were going to have to do if you came with me?" he hissed.

"Who are you talking to?" Ginny finally asked, curiousity getting the better of her.

In answer, the air to George's left shifted and crumpled in upon itself. A shimmering length of material fell to the snowy ground from thin air. Ron looked back at her. He was very red in the face.

Ginny sighed. Somehow, she was not surprised. "Is that Harry's Invisibility cloak?"

"Nope," said George. "It's a new one we've been developing. It also works as an Inaudibility Cloak, or at least it's supposed to. Still some kinks in that part of it."

She shook her head and started through the door, only to feel a hand on her shoulder. She knew without even looking up that it belonged to Ron. It was both too urgent and too uncertain to be George's sure, steady hand.

"Gin," Ron said in a rush. "Don't go up quite yet. Please. Please don't."

"What are you going to do?" she asked without turning round. "Hit me over the head and tie me up in a sack to keep me from seeing Dumbledore, because Draco Malfoy will be there as well?"

Ron winced at Draco's name, but he didn't react anywhere near as violently as she had expected him to do. "Won't you wait just a moment?" he asked softly. "Please?"

She relented and turned round to look at him. "Make it fast."

Ron stuck his hands in his pockets and stared down at the ground. "I heard about what happened," he said in a rush. "I heard that it wasn't, well, exactly what we all thought at first. Is that true?"

"It's true," Ginny said guardedly.

"I suppose that means that Malfoy saved you from his father, doesn't it?"

"It does."

"Well. All right, then." Ron traced a pattern in the snow with his foot.

Ginny fingered one of her braids and wondered how far she might go with her brother now. "Do you understand what that means?" she finally asked. "I want to be--I'm going to be with him, Ron. You're going to have to accept that. Everyone will have to."

Ron turned a strange shade of purple at her words. "When I see Draco Malfoy again--" he choked out.

"You'll what?" asked Ginny, one hand on the ancient bronze doorknob of the stone door into the tower, ready to flee, or to attack.

Ron gritted his teeth together so loudly that she could hear the grinding sound in the clear, cold air. "I won't kill him," he said.

That's as good as it's going to get, Ginny realized.

They both stared at the snow for what seemed like an excruciatingly long time. Ginny heard footsteps coming towards them at last, and she looked up, expecting to see George come to break the impasse. But, wait-- that can't be right. The sound's coming from inside the tower, I think. Harry pushed the door wide and looked down at her. Now that the door had opened, she could see the dank, dark interior of the tower's bottom level, a winding staircase leading up the very top. He stood on the lowest stone step.

"Come on, Ginny," Harry said. She looked up at him, wondering what he was thinking. Does he hate me now? Could I blame him if he did? His brilliantly green eyes were expressionless behind his glasses, and his face looked very pale above his black wool cloak.

"Yeah!" said Ron, sounding happy for the first time. "Go with Harry, Gin. I'll go back with George." He pushed her towards the other boy, his face lit with a genuine smile. Harry avoided his friend's eager eyes, Ginny saw.

The sound of George and Ron's footsteps retreated in the distance. Harry reached out and pulled the stone door shut, and all sounds from the outside world were cut off as suddenly as if by a knife.

Ginny cleared her throat. "Should we go upstairs?" she asked timidly. Her voice bounced off the stone walls with a hollow sound. Upstairs... upstairs... upstairs came back at her in thready whispers.

"You have to go alone," said Harry. "And then I have to leave. That's the way it works."

"But you can't go off alone," said Ginny. "It's not safe."

"Tonks'll come down in a minute. I'll leave with her."

"Oh. So, uh--so we'll just wait, then."

He gave a brief nod. Then he lapsed into silence, staring at the wall.

There's something I want to do, thought Ginny. I shouldn't, though... I don't know if he can understand why I want to do it, or what I'll mean by it...

She hesitated a few more moments, looking at Harry's silent, motionless face in profile. He never shows what he really feels anymore, she realized. He had once. She remembered how often he had exploded at everybody during his fifth year. But after that, he kept his emotions under tight rein. Nobody ever really knew what they even were. He's like Draco in that way. Strange, that they should be at all alike. Except that Draco finally let me into himself, and Harry never would have done, no matter what I gave to him, or did for him. And at that thought, what she so wanted to do seemed like the only natural thing left to do.

She reached out and embraced Harry, turning him towards her, feeling his stiff shoulders and arms and chest under her hands. He gave a startled gasp. "Shh," she said.

"What are you doing?" he asked in a choked voice.

"Harry, don't hate me," she whispered. "Please, please don't hate me."

He sighed, and his body relaxed just the tiniest bit, although he did not return her embrace. "I could never hate you. Surely you must know that, Ginny."

She felt a rush of real affection for him then, a feeling that had in it something sisterly, and something almost motherly. "Can I tell you the truth about something?" she asked.

He smiled faintly. "Of course."

"Perhaps I shouldn't. But we might not have ever got into this mess in the first place if I'd told you the truth more often."

"Don't blame yourself," Harry said. "What do you want to tell me?"

"Well--" Ginny began shyly. "It's just that I really do love you." She felt him stiffen even further, but doggedly plowed on. "In a way. Not the way I thought, though. Maybe it isn't even fair to tell you that. But I do."

His mouth twisted down at one corner. "Don't worry about it not being fair. I wanted to use that feeling to make you sleep with me and marry me, Ginny. Now that wouldn't have been fair."

Against her will, a corner of her own mouth quirked up.

"I bet I know what you're thinking," he said. "'Harry's not quite as dense as I always thought he was.' Well, if things get pounded into my head with a two-by-four often enough, I do learn them, Ginny."

"Sometimes I do wish that I could've loved you that way," she admitted. And telling him that probably isn't fair, either, she thought.

"It would've been easier, wouldn't it? But you don't."

No, I don't, she thought. She truly did care for Harry; she knew that now, and the sort of feeling that she had for him encompassed everything that he was, both good and bad. But that very fact filled it with too much pity to be anything more than a sister's love. She loved Harry as she might have loved one of her brothers, if there was a sickness in him past all mending. And that, at least, I will never tell him.

The sound of a door creaking open drifted down to them from the top of the stairs, and then a very faint strain of crackly-sounding music.

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream,

Make him the sweetest that I've ever seen...

"That sounds like a radio," said Ginny, confused.

"It's Dumbledore's Muggle radio," said Harry absently, his eyes wandering to the top of the stairs, although there was nothing to see yet.

"But Hermione always said those sorts of Muggle things didn't work on Hogwarts grounds."

He shrugged. "Ask Dumbledore to explain it. It didn't quite make sense to me."

The echoing sound of rather clumsy footsteps started down the tower stairs.

"That must be Tonks," said Ginny.

"Yeah." A faint smile lit up Harry's haunted-looking face. It was a smile more of the eyes than of the lips.

"So--I'll go now," she said awkwardly. "I have to see--" She stopped.

"Dumbledore, I know," he said. "And then you'll finally get to see Malfoy, won't you?"

Silently, she nodded.

"I'm just going to ask you this one thing, and then I'll never ask you anything about it again." Harry fidgeted. "When--I mean, the other night, before we showed up in your rooms and--I'm only asking because I care about you, Ginny, er--Look, I know that what we all thought wasn't true. But I still want to know. Um... was Malfoy good to you?"

She knew exactly what he was talking about, without being told, and she sighed inwardly. Harry had seen her clutching a towel around her naked body while a half-clad Draco Malfoy held her in his arms, and even though he had never really wanted her himself, that was a sight that would always be burned into his brain. Harry cared about her, yes, but he could not help wanting to know if his old rival had succeeded where he himself had failed.

"Yes," she said quietly. "Now don't ask me anything more."

He shuddered. "Don't worry. I won't!"

They both fell silent for a moment.

"Are you going to be all right?" she asked.

Harry smiled faintly. "Weird thing to ask me. I would've thought the question is, are you going to be all right?"

"Oh, I will be. But what about you, Harry?"

He sighed deeply.

"Yeah. I'm sure I will. It's just that--" He did not go on.

"What is it, Harry?"

"I don't know if there can ever be someone for me, the way there's someone for you."

"Oh really, Harry. I'm sure if you tried to find--"

"No, let me finish. I don't think it can happen, not now anyway. But at least, I wish there was someone who understood. Ginny, Ginny..." He looked directly at her then, and the pain in his brilliantly green eyes was almost too much to bear. "I wish Sirius had lived. I think I could stand all this if only he'd lived."

She swallowed hard. "I wish he'd lived too."

"But he didn't, did he? So we've got to go on."

Tonks clattered down the stairs then, tripping over a worn place in the steps and nearly falling. She reached out for Ginny's hand, to steady herself.

"We have to hurry," she said. "Are you all right, Gin? You have to go all the way up by yourself, you know."

Ginny nodded, aware of Harry's eyes on both of them. "Is--" She jerked her head upwards. "Is he there?"

"Yes," Tonks said quietly. "Go up, Ginny." She gave her hand a last brief squeeze and turned to Harry.

Ginny stood at the open door, looking after Harry and Tonks as they started across the fields. Their voices drifted back to her for a surprisingly long time.

"So you're my bodyguard, ay?" asked Harry, smiling mischievously at the other woman. Ginny hadn't even known that he could smile that way anymore.

"I do what I can," Tonks said modestly.

"I dunno," said Harry, reaching up to tweak a stray lock of hair that had fallen out from under her wool cap. "If Voldemort sees your hair, I think he'll die laughing."

Ginny shuddered involuntarily when they heard the Dark Lord called by his true name; she couldn't help it, and most people in her world did the same. But Tonks did not. "Well, you won't have to kill him then," she replied casually. Ginny held her breath. I'd never have said anything like that to Harry! Oh, I wonder what he'll do now...

But Harry only threw his head back and laughed heartily. Ginny tried to remember the last time she'd heard him laugh, but she couldn't.

"I guess that'd save us all a lot of trouble. But, Tonks--" He reached down and scooped up a double handful of snow. "Who'll protect you from the dreaded snowmonster?" He flipped up her braid of pink-streaked tomato-red hair and stuffed the snow down the back of her cloak with the lightning-quick reflexes of the Seeker he had been for so long. She shrieked and struggled to get away, but not very hard.

"Oh, you're going to pay for that!" she howled. "PAY, I tell you!"

Harry began to run, but it was too late. Tonks lobbed several snowballs in a row at him with deadly accuracy. He darted behind a rock in the field past the tower and popped out to hurl more snowballs back at her. She sneaked around one side, behind a tree, and surprised him with an enormous armful of snow right over his head. He spluttered and laughed, trying to shake snow out of his hair, spitting it out of his mouth. She watched him, her lips curved into a faint smile.

"C'mon, Harry," Tonks finally said. "Let's go back to the castle and get you into some dry clothes." She reached out her hand to him, and after an instant's hesitation, he took it.

"Hot cocoa too?" he asked.

"Hot cocoa too. I'll race you!"

They ran together across the fields, diminishing into the distance until Ginny could no longer see either of them. Slowly, she shut the door.

It closed with a clang, shutting out the outer world of snow and fresh air. There was only the tower now, dark and dank, and the winding staircase that seemed to lead up to nowhere. That doesn't even make any sense, Ginny thought nervously. How could that door make a clanging noise when it's made out of stone? But it did; I'm sure I heard it. Nothing really feels as if it makes sense here...

Her footsteps, too, sounded strangely hollow and echoing as she slowly began to trudge up the staircase. The stone stairs felt unimaginably old beneath her feet, as if they'd been worn smooth by all the shoes that had ever walked upon them. I wonder how old this tower is, anyway... She shivered. Then she made the mistake of glancing down.

Ginny could only see the ground right around her feet at all clearly. Beyond a couple of metres away in any direction, everything faded into blackness. She might have been walking through a void. A sickening sensation of vertigo seized her for just a moment. She stood with her eyes closed, breathing hard, willing herself to get back under control. The tower was silent, so silent. Surely she should have been able to hear something, no matter how thick the walls were--the sound of mice scurrying around, or water dripping somewhere?

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream
Make him the cutest that I've ever seen
Give him the word that I'm not a rover
Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over...

Music was still playing scratchily from the radio at the very top of the stairs, and the sound drifted down like a breeze.

I know what that song is, Ginny realized. I've heard it before. Dad used to play it sometimes when he rigged up that Muggle phonograph in the garage. She followed its strain all the way the winding staircase, her steps more sure now. She knew where it was leading her.

At last, she paused at the landing on the top of the steps. The door was just slightly ajar. She turned away from it and rested her elbows on the ledge of a small window, getting her breath back. It had been a hard climb.

The fields were silent and barren under a moonless sky. A million stars sparkled, looking very cold and far away. Ginny looked into the distance. She could no longer see Harry and Tonks, of course. They probably got back to the castle a long time ago. I hope he'll be all right... but maybe, just maybe, he will. He looked so happy when he was with her. Happier than he ever was with me, that's for sure! She smiled slightly. I wonder... She remembered when she had first met Tonks. It was when Tonks and Harry had first met as well, at the end of that summer at Twelve Grimmauld Place.

And that summer was the last time I ever saw Sirius Black. He did come to the Department of Mysteries. But I didn't even know he'd been there until later on. I'd fainted by then, I think... Harry saw him one last time, but I never did. Oh, Sirius...

Ginny gave a long, deep, unconscious sigh, and she knew that she needed to wait a few moments before she went in to see Dumbledore. The summer when she had known Sirius Black was not a time she permitted herself to think about very often. But she thought of it now, because she could not help it.

Then she turned away from the window, giving one last look to the dark fields. Strange, she thought. I was sure it was almost a full moon tonight. And there aren't any clouds, so I really should be able to see it. Perhaps it isn't up yet?

And then prickles ran up her spine, as she kept staring into the utter darkness outside the clock tower. "I left the infirmary right after lunch," she whispered. "It couldn't have been later than one o'clock."

Very slowly, she held up her wristwatch. The hands had stopped moving. She peered closer at the tiny lettering on the watch face to see where they were stuck.

The time-space continuum is currently out of order, she read. Please try again.

Behind her, the door creaked open. Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny could see a spill of warm orange light. The song blared from the radio.

Mr. Sandman, I'm so alone
Don't have nobody to call my own...

Then the tight, tinny harmonies of the Andrews Sisters faded away into wavering static.

A deep shudder ran up Ginny's spine. She had a sudden, awful impulse to turn and run down the stairs as fast as she could. Would I even be able to get out, though? No. There was no going back, and she was going forward. She pivoted on one heel, since all of her muscles seemed to have gone stiff and cold. She forced herself to walk through the door.

The room at the top of the clock tower was tiny, twelve-sided, and seemingly crammed with most of the things from Albus Dumbledore's office. Several portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses blinked down from the walls, and a large circular desk sat in the middle of the floor. At the far end was a large set of busy iron clockworks. The centre was scattered with parchments, diagrams, quill pens, several spare pointy hats, a gyroscope, and a huge dish of candy. Dumbledore was bent over an old-fashioned Muggle console radio that stood next to the desk, twisting its knobs.

This is... (Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream)
Serious the craziest
... d da (Mr. Sandman bring me a good dream) day da
Lyrical shots from the glock
bust bullet holes on the chops I want the number one spot
With the science, of a giant
New York defiant, brutal like domestic violence
My thoughts be sneaky like a crook from Brooklyn
When you ain't lookin, I take the queen, with the rook then...

.Fawkes had been snoozing on his perch, but he lifted his head from his wing to give the radio a quizzical look. Ginny saw that a silver locket hung around his neck on a chain. The new song faded out. Static crackled through the air like a hissing cat, and then the old station came clear again

Mr. Sandman, send me a dream,

Make him the sweetest that I've ever seen...

Finally, Dumbledore straightened up.

"Ah, yes. Do come in, Ginny. I believe I've finally got this to work. Curious little thing, isn't it?"

"Er--yes, sir. I suppose it is."

"You've seen one before, I suppose?"

"Dad used to have one." She entered the room hesitantly, her mind bursting with everything she wanted to say. She didn't know where to begin. "Headmaster--" she began.

"Sit down, sit down. Take the comfy chair." Dumbledore gestured at an overstuffed papa-san chair tucked in a corner. "Lemon drop?" He offered her the candy dish.

Ginny turned over the brightly coloured candies with slow movements of her fingers, trying to get her thoughts in order. A clock ticked steadily on the wall in time to the beats of the song.

Give him two lips like roses and clover,
Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over....

Tick, tock, tick, tock...

She looked more closely at the clock. It had no hands.

"Do you like my eternal timepiece?" Dumbledore asked, handing her a steaming cup. "Tea?"

"I suppose so..." she said slowly. A curious sense of calm was stealing over her. She sipped at the tea. She seemed to have forgotten not only what she had originally wanted to say, but the entire set of reasons for why she was here. Still, she made an effort.

"I want to tell you everything that happened, sir," she said, setting down her cup.

He leaned back in his own chair and looked at her. He looked very tired, she saw now, and there seemed to be new lines carved in his weathered face. But his eyes were peaceful and fathomless. "If you like, Ginny," he said gently.

She told him everything she could remember about the past few weeks, omitting only the intimate details of what had happened between her and Draco. Nobody else needs to know that! But she had the strange feeling that he already knew everything that she was going to say. He was only listening to her speak in order to make her feel satisfied.

"And you do understand that Draco didn't do anything to me that I, uh, didn't want, don't you, sir?" Ginny finally asked. "Only my family all thought--well, they thought he had. Madam Pomfrey too."

"I know," said Dumbledore.

"So..." Ginny glanced round her. "Is that all?"

"What do you wish to know, Ginny?"

Her breath caught in her throat. "Where's Draco?" she whispered.

"You will see him soon," said Dumbledore, his eyes oddly sad. "That is not what I meant."

"Is there anything else about what's happened that I want to know, you mean?"

He nodded. She chewed on her lower lip.

"Yes, Ginny?" he asked.

She wondered what she actually did want to ask him. She felt that there must be something, although she could not quite clarify what it was. "Well--I'm not sure. But even with everything that I've already learned, I have the strangest feeling that there's something more I don't know about. Something terribly important."

"Perhaps that is true," Dumbledore agreed.

"Well.... is there?"

He looked at her. His eyes were still oddly sad. "You wish for greater knowledge, Ginny? That is a dangerous wish."

"I want to know everything I need to know. Yes."

Dumbledore sighed deeply, and did not answer her. After a few more moments, he rose from his chair and held out his gnarled hand to her.

"Do you see that little door on Fawkes's other side?" he asked.

"Of course I do. It's only a few metres away."

"It may not be as close as you think," he said. "Open the door, Ginny, and go into the alcove room."

The door should have been only a few steps away, but the room seemed to be filled with unexpected twists and turns. Once, Ginny found herself wandering down a row of bookshelves. The titles of the books were impossible to read once she actually tried to look at them closely, and they seemed to move around a great deal. Another time, she started down a long corridor that seemed to have no end, turning back only after becoming hopelessly confused. But at last she reached the door and opened it.

It swung inward to reveal a tiny room with a cot, a chair, and a bedside table. The light was very dim. A figure sat motionless on the cot, turned away from her. The head jerked round at the sound of her footsteps. Draco looked up at her.

She hadn't known exactly what she would say to him, or how he might react, but all of her doubts and fears were swept away the moment she actually saw him. Ginny sank to the cot next to him, and somehow she had taken his feverishly hot hands in hers and his arms were around her and his face was buried in her hair, and she felt his thin, trembling body under her hands.

"I didn't know if you'd come," he murmured.

"Of course I was going to come to you; how could you think I wouldn't?" she asked.

"I'm not sure." He gave a long, shuddering sigh. "I had dreams of you, Ginny, when I could sleep, which wasn't very often. Then I'd wake, and you weren't there."

"I dreamed about you too," she said. "Or maybe not. I don't know. When I thought you came to me in the infirmary, Draco--did that really happen?"

He nodded. "I sneaked out last night for a bit. I wasn't at all sure I'd even be able to get out, or to get back in when I wanted to--but it worked all right. I had to see you, Ginny... but I didn't think you knew I was there."

"I knew."

"Why didn't you say anything, then?"

She didn't answer him, but reached up to smooth his hair with one hand. It felt soft but very thick. "Are you all right, Draco?" she asked.

"Better now, that's for sure."

"I mean..." She fumbled for words. "Draco, tell me the truth. Do you blame me? Do you hate me, even a little?"

A devilish smirk spread over his face. "Oh yes. I absolutely loathe you, can't you tell?" He pushed her back a bit so that she lay faceup on the thin mattress, and ran his hands along the curve of her hips and waist and breasts. "That's why I'm feeling you up right now. This cot's been awful to lie on, but you know, I bet that if I was on top it wouldn't feel nearly so--"

"I'm serious!" Ginny said, struggling not to smile. "You know what I mean."

He moved so that he was half-lying on top of her, and his hands moved up to cup her breasts. "I don't know what you mean at all," he said, his voice muffled, his mouth moving against her neck. "I don't care at the moment, to tell the truth. Ginny, you feel so good, so good..."

"I mean about your father," she said softly.

Draco's lips stopped moving. He looked up at her, his grey eyes haggard. "I don't want to think about that. I don't want to remember him."

"But--"

"I could forget everything, in you," he said, his voice a little desperate and somehow petulant. "Won't you let me?"

She shook her head. He sighed and rolled off her, lying by her side. He was still pressed up against her completely, since the cot was so small. "I--I don't know," he finally said. "But I don't blame you. I never could. Did you know that, Ginny? Even when I blamed the rest of your family, and Potter, and Granger, I never really blamed you." She did not answer. "Do you believe me?" he asked. His voice was urgent now.

"I believe you," said Ginny.

"Then don't ask me anything more." He held her so tightly then that her ribs ached, but she didn't ask him to loosen his grip on her.

The door swung open. Ginny gasped and scrambled up, and was horrified to see Dumbledore looking down on them. But there was no judgment in his eyes. "Come back to my office," he said.

Ginny closed the little door behind her and they were in the main twelve-sided room. "Bit of a different journey than it was before," she muttered.

"I know," said Draco, at her side. "The first time I tried to find that little room, I think I got lost in a sort of library. I must have wandered around for an hour before I found the door."

Ginny and Draco stood across the table from Dumbledore, holding hands beneath its edge. He looked at them both soberly, and then turned his keen gaze on Draco.

"You have changed, haven't you?" he asked, his voice soft.

Draco swallowed. "I have," he said.

"But perhaps you have not changed enough."

"I don't know what you mean, sir."

Dumbledore clasped his hands behind his back. He looked at Fawkes. The silver locket around the phoenix's neck glimmered in the sourceless light of the tower room. Then he turned back to Draco. "Will you work for us and with us, Draco Lukas Malfoy, as you did not do before?" he asked.

"I will," Draco answered, his face very serious.

Why, this is a ritual, Ginny realized. I wonder what my part in it is supposed to be. Or if I even have a part, I suppose. She squeezed Draco's hand gently, hoping that her gesture gave him a bit of courage.

"Do you renounce the Death Eaters and all their works?"

"I do renounce them."

"And do you swear never to harm Ginny Weasley?"

Draco blinked, as if the question were the last one he had expected to hear. "I do so swear," he said. "With all the strength that is in me, and all the strength that may ever be, I swear it."

But he didn't swear to the first question, or the second, Ginny realized. He didn't actually make a vow, not in so many words. Surely that doesn't make any difference, though.

"Then I give to you a gift that can be used for evil, or for good," said Dumbledore. He turned and reached up to Fawkes, taking the locket and chain from around the bird's neck. Draco bent his head, and Dumbledore put the chain around Draco's neck. Draco looked at it uncertainly.

"What is this? I mean, I can see what it is, but what's it for, sir?"

"You will learn that in due time," said Dumbledore, and suddenly he sounded very tired and very old. "But now, you must leave."

Draco's eyes were fixed on Dumbledore, but his hand grasped Ginny's more tightly. "I--leave?" For the first time, he sounded a little afraid.

"Yes, Draco. You and Ginny both; you must go together."

"Oh." Draco's voice relaxed, and so did the iron grip on Ginny's fingers. "So we're going back to the castle? I suppose I'll be staying there. Will--will she be with me?"

Dumbledore stepped to the other side of the table, so that his face was almost entirely in shadow. "No, Draco. Neither of you will be returning to the castle."

"Then where?" asked Ginny. It was the first time she had spoken since they had come back into the twelve-sided room, but she was starting to feel a small tremor of unease.

"The two of you must return to the place where Draco stayed in Knockturn Alley." Dumbledore was standing very close to them then, and the eerie spill of light from some source Ginny couldn't name picked up the craggy features of his face. His eyes were still in shadow. "You must return to Gris-Gris."

"Is that safe, sir?" she asked, startled.

"Yes," he said softly. "It is safe, Ginny. In the way that you mean, at least. Now, go. I want you back there, for that is where the two of you belong now."

Perhaps there's some sort of protection spell over Gris-Gris that's even more powerful than the one at Hogwarts. Or maybe the Haitian wizards there have powers that we don't have. Or--well, who knows what. Ginny found that she did not really want to ask exactly what Dumbledore meant. A shiver of disquiet went all through her.

But why? How can I think such things? Dumbledore says we'll be safe, so we must be. Of course--Ginny frowned slightly. She had spent too much time around Harry to take everything that Dumbledore said on implicit trust anymore. But she didn't see anything to do but to trust him now.

"All right then," she said resolutely. "Let's go. But, er, how are we going to get there?"

"There is a way through here. Walk with me," Dumbledore said, and they followed him across the room, which began to expand into a long corridor of row after row of dusty shelves filled with books.

"A Portkey?" asked Ginny. She was getting more confused by the second. "But I always thought those didn't work on Hogwarts grounds--"

"No, not a Portkey," said Dumbledore. "You will see." He stopped, and so did they. The corridor had come to an end at last. Mist blew in wisps from a dark, rectangular opening.

"Will you remember all that has passed?" he asked Draco.

Draco looked startled. "I--of course I will, sir. I think I'd hardly be likely to forget it."

What a strange, strange question, thought Ginny. And again she shivered, although she did not know why.

Then she took Draco's hand, and they walked through the mists. All through their journey, she could still hear the faint sounds of Dumbledore's radio in the tower room.

The fogs thinned after a few minutes of walking. Ginny stumbled over the uneven wet cobblestones beneath her feet, and Draco held out an arm to steady her. "Don't you dare fall and break your neck after all we've been through," he said, sounding unsettled. He looked around the dark alley, and then up at the elegant two-storied building with the green awning over its front. "I can't believe we actually made it here."

Neither can I, thought Ginny.

"I hope Dumbledore isn't finally going dotty," said Draco.

"I never thought I'd say this," Ginny admitted, "but so do I. We're here now though, aren't we?"

"We are. I just hope it's safe..." He smiled at her crookedly. "I have a present for you in my rooms, Ginny. I didn't think I'd get a chance to give it to you, but now I will."

"What is it?"

He stood close to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder. "It's very slippery," he said, "and very smooth. And very chartreuse--"

"Did you get me a snake?"

He chuckled. "All right, I'll tell you. It's that robe at Madame Malkin's that you liked so much."

"Oh! Thank you," said Ginny, "but--" A thought struck her. "Draco, how did you know I liked it?"

He shrugged. "You must have told me, I suppose."

She was sure that she hadn't. But it didn't seem important now, not when Draco was holding her so tightly while snow drifted down all round them, and they were about to go to his rooms, where they could be alone.

"So you'd like to see me in it?" she whispered.

He nodded. "And then I'd like to see you out of it even more."

A blush crept up her cheeks. "I'd like that as well," she said.

Draco turned slightly then, so that they were closer to the little green side door that led to the club, and the light from an overhead streetlamp winked at the locket around his neck. Ginny picked it up in one hand and held it suspended from its chain, frowning at it.

"Draco, what do you suppose this really is?"

"I don't know," he breathed in her ear. "Does it matter? We'll find out. I don't want to think about that just now."

"And what do you want to think about?" Ginny asked. She had meant the words to come out lightly and teasingly, but she failed.

"You," he said. "Just you and you and you, Ginny."

"Then let's go in," she said. I can't bear to wait another moment, she thought. I want him. Maybe I'm bad for thinking that; maybe it's not the way Mum raised me to be... well, I know it's not. But I can't help it. I waited for him, even when I didn't know it was Draco I really waited for. I gave myself to him at last. And now I want him touching me and kissing me, holding me, loving me, over me and on me and in me and all over me, I never want us to be separated again, never, never...

The brass plate on the door shimmered in the light of the streetlamp, and once again she saw the words engraved upon it. J'arrive, et je rêve.

What does that mean, I wonder? But it doesn't matter now. Not to me.

"Let's hurry, Draco," Ginny said eagerly.

She reached out for the polished brass doorknob.