Separate Ways

It was time to say goodbye, Ginny knew. Tonight's dinner had been hard -- she loved her family dearly and would miss them when she left them behind, but she needed this. She'd wanted to leave a year before, after the Defeat, but she wasn't sure that the time was right and... Well, she knew she needed her NEWT results in order to have any chance of a good job.

It paid off, didn't it? she thought to herself as she lay listening to the sounds of the Burrow. Tonight would be her last night here for a long time, her last night ever of living here.

Her parents didn't understand. Her mum had even pulled her aside tonight, dabbing at her eyes with the corner of her apron. Ginny nodded and smiled in all the right places, but over her mum's shoulder she could see Harry in the living room. He still walked with a slight limp, and the dark circles under his eyes would probably never go away, but he talked about his Auror training with a hopeful smile on his face.

Ginny knew she could not sit there at her mother's table and look at that hopeful smile for the next year, or five years, or ten. She could not. It had pushed her out of reach of her mum's tearful pleas, her father's quiet words, and even her brothers' joking questions. She needed to leave home, and she needed to go as far away as possible.

---

Ginny took a deep breath and tightened her grip on her trunk. She looked down at Fred, who was crouched next to her, holding the other end.

"Ready?" he asked with a grin.

"Ready."

He threw a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace and they lifted the trunk into the fire together. He stepped back and smiled as she announced loudly, "International Dragon Reserve, Office of the Assistant Director."

The fireplace started to spin even before she finished speaking, and for a moment Ginny panicked, wondering how on earth she'd find her way around the Dragon Reserve if she came out at the wrong place.

The spinning began to slow down after a long while, showing her brief glimpses of dim and darkened rooms. Finally, the spinning gradually came to a stop. Recognizing her cue, Ginny stepped across the dark stone hearth, dragging her heavy trunk out of the fire after her as quickly as she could. Ash scattered across the floor in her wake, and looking back, she saw a trail of glowing embers. She dropped her trunk and quickly turned, trying to stomp them out.

"Don't bother," said an amused voice behind her.

Ginny whirled around, scattering ash and burning coals with the hem of her robes. Across the room behind an enormous desk sat Charlie. Stocky and muscular, his arms covered with shiny pink patches of burn scars, he had the same broad grin on his face that she'd left behind only minutes before. There was one thing missing, though -- one thing missing from the Charlie she'd last seen hanging mistletoe and singing carols.

"Oh Charlie, your hair!"

"Hello to you too." He laughed, but raised a hand self-consciously to his close-cropped head.

"But what happened to your hair?" she asked again, still shocked.

"It, erm..." He coughed, embarrassed. "Well, you know, with dragons..."

Ginny's eyes grew wide, but she said nothing. He coughed again. "It, ah, it caught on fire. I had to cut it, Gin. It looked terrible, and the smell..." He trailed off.

"Well I like it," she declared, raising a hand to feel the short stubble behind his ear. "It sets off your scars." She grinned at him, and he grinned back, and in a moment she was swept up in a strong, familiar hug.

He stepped back and held her at arms' length, examining her.

"Ah, Gin, this is going to be great," he said. "We'll finally get to hang out, just the two of us. We haven't done that since-- since--"

"--Since a long time ago," she finished.

"--Since a long time ago," he repeated, still smiling happily.

He helped her carry her trunk along several corridors and down two flights of stairs until they reached a long hallway filled with doors leading off at regular intervals.

The hallway itself was darkened, but Ginny could still see that each door was unique -- one made of metal with a huge spinning combination lock like a low-budget Gringotts vault, one a stained-glass masterpiece, one that appeared to be made of solid stone, and even one that was behind a sheet of falling water. Near the end of the corridor, Charlie stopped and indicated a plain wooden door.

"This one's yours."

Her disappointment must have shown in her face, because he took one look at her and laughed.

"You'll decorate the door yourself, of course," he said, tapping it three times with his wand and gesturing to her to do the same.

At her third tap, the door swung open and she was treated to a view of her new quarters.

The first room was small and cozy, with bare stone walls and a matching set of battered green armchairs. The only large thing about it, in fact, was the enormous fireplace that dominated one wall, the mantel rising well above Ginny's head. It looked grand enough for the Great Hall at Hogwarts, and a bit out of place in this tiny apartment.

She gave Charlie a questioning glance, and he shrugged.

"It gets cold here."

Two doors led off the room. Through one, a small sink and shower were visible. The other, not much larger, must lead to the bedroom, she thought.

Leaving her trunk on the floor in the living room, Ginny moved through to the second room. It, too, was small, just big enough to hold a wardrobe and a writing table. She looked around in confusion, turning one way and then the other. Finally, she walked back to the living room, where her brother was examining the selection of books stacked on the mantel.

"Uh, Charlie?"

"Uh, Ginny?"

"Where's the bed? Or do I get to sleep in a chair?"

Laughing, he moved into the other room with Ginny following close behind. He walked directly over to a set of floor-length drapes and swept them back dramatically, revealing a nook in the wall just big enough for the bed tucked into it.

Ginny blushed, feeling sheepish. "Oh," she said weakly. "I thought that was a window."

"No windows here -- we're underground." Suddenly, Charlie was all business. "I'll leave you to get settled in here -- I have some paperwork to finish up tonight. Breakfast is served at seven in the dining hall. You can meet me in my office at eight tomorrow for your orientation."

"All right," she said, wondering silently how she would find her way, but nodding agreement anyway.

Charlie turned and walked toward the door. Ginny trailed in his wake, feeling very young and inexperienced. It was not a pleasant feeling.

He reached the door and opened it, stepping out into the hallway before turning toward her again with the familiar grin back in place.

"Oh, and Quidditch is on Sundays and Wednesdays," he said. "The women could use a good chaser." The door clicked shut behind him and he was gone, but her mood was already improved.

She walked around the room, wondering when she would ever need to light a fire in the huge fireplace, flipping through the copy of From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper's Guide that rested on the mantel, and grinning to herself. Her own rooms, a new job -- and best of all, she'd left the past behind in England.

---

The first time she'd felt the tugging sensation, in her second year, Ginny hadn't known what it was. She'd stayed on her bed, diligently working on her Herbology final essay. She'd managed to ignore the feeling at first in favor of mandrake and yarrow, aloe and bloodwort.

Eventually, the feeling grew too powerful to ignore -- a strong sensation of being pulled over to the open window, coupled with the certainty that someone was in terrible danger and needed her help. She rose from the bed and walked towards the window with her wand drawn.

Looking out into the summer twilight, she saw nothing to warrant her fears. Still, the feeling persisted. As she searched into the shadows at the base of the castle wall, a smooth motion caught her eye. A dementor. On the grounds of the castle, even though Dumbledore had forbidden... In the blink of an eye, she had her shoes on and was running down the stairs and out the portrait hole, making for the North Tower. The rooms there would give her a clear view of the lake. She didn't know why she had to go to the lake, but she did, and she ran with all her might.

By the time she arrived at the North Tower, her body was hot and sweaty, but it didn't keep the unnatural cold from seeping into her bones. She ran from the hallway into an empty, dusty classroom and across to the window. Grabbing the shutters, she flung them open just in time to see a ghostly stag charge across the surface of the lake, circling two figures crouched there and scattering dementors as it went.

As she watched, the magical pull on her snapped so suddenly that she gasped. It was as though the thread connecting her to someone or something down there had been cut by a pair of scissors.

No harm had been done. Those tiny, indistinct people at the edge of the lake were all right. Someone -- or something -- else had come to their rescue. Ginny peered through the gathering darkness, looking across the lake to where the pearly stag had come from, but she could see nothing.

She shook her head, in disappointment and then in wry amusement. What would she have done anyway, against all those dementors? Collapse and cry, probably, just like she had on the train.

---

Ginny woke early, the bed unfamiliar beneath the contours of her body. She showered and dressed, feeling unaccountably nervous. She still didn't really know what she was doing here or why she'd come, and "it seemed like a good idea at the time" was making less sense with each passing moment.

She dressed carefully in a long dark skirt and simple black robe, and pulled her hair back into a low ponytail. Straightening her shoulders and raising her chin, she walked out the door into the hallway.

Standing just outside her door, she looked first one way and then the other, at a complete loss. Both ends of the hallway seemed to lead somewhere, and she was sure that last night, they'd entered in the middle.

Just as she was about to pick a direction at random and hope for the best, a door down the hall opened, and a petite girl with cropped blonde hair and blue jeans stepped into the hallway. Catching sight of Ginny, she turned her head.

"Ah, you are ze new one, no?"

"Yes, Ginny Weasley," she said, extending her hand.

"Gabrielle Delacour," the girl said, shaking Ginny's hand in her tiny one.

Ginny looked at her in surprise, and then smiled, although she didn't feel it.

"Oh, your sister--"

"Yes, and your bruzzer," interrupted Gabrielle. "Please, do not hold it against me." She looked so exasperated that Ginny almost laughed. "Allow me to make it up to you wiz breakfast... my treat." She smiled so impishly that Ginny just had to smile back, perfectly naturally this time.

Gabrielle led her swiftly through the maze of corridors and into a large room with long tables down each side. She seated herself in front of a large basket of rolls and helped herself to several, while Ginny filled her plate with eggs and sausages. Gabrielle passed her the rolls and Ginny took one. Biting into it, she was surprised to discover that despite its rough texture, it was subtly sweet.

Looking around the dining hall, Ginny realized with chagrin that she was one of the only people in robes, and the others were all at least eighty. Every other woman wore trousers.

No wonder she could tell I was new, thought Ginny, looking down at her outfit. In her room, she had looked mature and sophisticated. Now, she felt like a nun, or at least someone's grandmother.

"I 'ear you play ze chaser," said Gabrielle, wiping the corner of her mouth daintily. She seemed tiny and fragile, Ginny thought, looking from the empty plate to the basket of rolls, but she must have eaten at least six of those things.

"Yes, I do," she answered, remembering Charlie's parting words the night before. "Sunday and Wednesday, right?"

"And practice tonight," said Gabrielle crisply, standing up and grabbing two more rolls from the basket. "Come, I will show you to Charlie's office." She pronounced his name with a soft sound, giving it an unfamiliar ring.

Charlie's office turned out to be only around the corner from the dining hall, but Ginny was still grateful for the assistance -- without Gabrielle, she'd have had to go all the way back to her own quarters to have any hope of finding her way. They walked around one corner and down the hall. Just as she was preparing for a long walk, Ginny was confronted with a brass dragon door-knocker, who looked curiously at her but addressed Gabrielle.

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle."

Gabrielle dropped a small curtsey and said replied in French with a smile and a wink.

Is she flirting with the doorkeeper? wondered Ginny.

The question was pushed out of her mind when Gabrielle switched back to English.

"Claude, this ees Geeny Weasley, Charlie's seester. I am sure 'e did not remember to introduce 'er."

Ginny noticed the small slur, but did not say anything. After all, it was true. Claude rolled his tiny brass eyes.

"It's nice to meet you, Claude."

"And you, Mademoiselle Weasley."

"Well, 'ere you are. I will see you for practice this evening, no?" said Gabrielle to Ginny.

"Of course," she said with a grin.

"Au revoir." With that she turned abruptly and was gone around the corner.

After a moment's surprise, Ginny turned back towards Claude, who was shaking his head, as if in disbelief. As soon as he saw Ginny looking, he grinned cheekily at her.

"Go right in, Mademoiselle -- he's expecting you."

Ginny opened the door to find Charlie, his shorn hair glinting in the magical light, hunched over his desk. He looked up when she entered.

"Hey Gin -- have a seat," he said, gesturing toward the empty chair on the other side of the desk from where he sat. Ginny sat, feeling as though she were in a job interview. That sensation only intensified when he set aside his paperwork, folded his hands, and looked directly at her.

"So, Ginny," he began, and she fought the urge to squirm in her seat. "I know you were looking forward to working with the dragons--" She grinned. She'd been waiting for this ever since Charlie had mentioned that he could probably get her a job working here. She was finally going to get to see those beautiful, ferocious creatures--

"--but I was hoping I could talk you out of that," finished Charlie.

She gaped at him.

He rushed on. "See-- I'm so swamped lately that I never have time to do anything around here, never see anyone, never have time for Quidditch even..." Ginny knew the situation must be dire, if that was the case. "...And I had this secretary, a really sweet little old Romanian witch, she made the best meatballs you've ever tasted... Juicy and the flavor..." Ginny gave him a Look, but he kept right on talking. "Her apple strudel, just amazing, really amazing, with brandy..."

"Yes, and...?"

Charlie looked up at her, confusion in his eyes. His mind had clearly been with the strudel.

"Right, right. My secretary. Anyway, sweet old witch but she quit last week to open an ice-cream parlor."

"No," said Ginny firmly.

"But--"

"No."

"I haven't even--"

"No."

"Just until I find someone else?"

"How long will that take?"

"Um, maybe--"

"No."

"Two weeks."

"All right," she agreed reluctantly. "But after that--"

"After that, I'll find the most beautiful, ferocious, interesting dragons and they'll be all yours, Gin, I promise."

Ginny couldn't help but feel that she was making a mistake by agreeing to this, but it didn't seem as though she had any choice.

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