The Thorn Amongst The Roses

Chapter Three

"Ron," I whisper quietly as we approach the Fat Ladys' Portrait, "I can't do this."

"What?" He looks confused. "Why not?"

"Because," I hiss, "no one likes me. They all hate me, and what're all you friends going to say when they find out who I am?"

He snorts. "Believe me, if I can get over who you are, they can as well."

"I guess the whole hatred-of-my-brother thing goes pretty deep then, huh?"

"Oh yeah, real deep."

After giving the password ('Cheese Flavoured Corn Puffs' this week), we walk in through the portrait, Ron muttering something about never letting Seamus choose the password again. I brace myself by sticking my fingers in my ears as Ron bellows out to the common room. Boy, he's loud.

"Oi! Hello? Everyone?" Everyone looks up, shocked, and a dark-haired wizard rushes up to us, a smile wide on his face. God, he's small for seventeen, a hell of a lot smaller than I am. Wait a minute; is that a

scar on his forehead? Is that...?

"Harry, hi!" Ron says with a smile. I guess that confirms my theory.

"Where did you go off to so quickly, Ron?" He looks concerned. Bloody hero complex.

"Never mind right now, I'll tell you later. Right now," He raises his voice significantly. I stick my fingers in my ears again. "I have an announcement to make. This," he shoves me into the middle of the common room, I glare at him, and he grins back, before continuing, "is Gina and it's her Sixteenth Birthday today, only nobody remembered, which, I think, is a bit shitty. So, I thought as it's my Eighteenth, and her Sixteenth, both landmark ages," There's a few titters and a loud "Here, here!" from Finnegan's brother. Pissed as usual. "We could both have a party; make it a joint thing, if that's all right with everyone?"

Everybody cheers. As long as there's still free booze it's all right for them. It's not like they're staying for the company after all.

"So, Ron," Harry addresses him again. God, can't he leave him alone? Are they joined at the hip or something? "Where did you find this pretty little thing?" He grins. Pretty little thing? Pretty little thing??? What the fuck? I'll show him who's a pretty little thing.

"I found her crying by the prefect's bathroom and I couldn't just leave

her there could I?"

I smile sweetly, acting shy, batting my eyelids and basically making me want to slap myself. "Yeah, I thought he was going to hit at first. You know, when he found out I was Malfoys sister and all."

I grin as I let the words sink in to Potters head and some frizzy-haired weirdo standing the other side of Potter. God, for a good-looking guy Ron doesn't half pick his friends badly. No, I did not just say that, I did not just say that. Compose yourself, you silly mare. Look at the terror on their faces. Hah! Oh yeah, I'm back!

"You're Malfoys sister?" the girl-in-need-of-serum asks me. "But that's... that's not possible. You're a Gryffindor."

"Look," Ron begins diplomatically. "I'm the last person on earth I ever thought I'd hear saying this but she's a nice Malfoy. If such a

thing exists."

I laugh, taking them all by surprise. "Yeah, I'm the nicest fucking Malfoy you'll ever meet. I just decided to freak you out a bit after the comment. A word of advice. Never, ever call any Malfoy a 'pretty little thing'. Unless, of course, you want to piss Draco off and then go ahead by all means. After all, he really is a 'pretty little thing'."

Ron laughs, the other two just stand there for a few seconds longer before joining in the laughter, if a little late.

"I think introductions are required," Ron says after he's finished wheezing. "Harry, Hermione, this is Gina Malfoy. Gina, this Harry Potter, saviour of the Wizarding world and The-Boy-Who-Lived, and Hermione Granger the smartest witch and biggest know-it-all you'll ever meet. What?" he asks, looking at their stony faces. "It's my eighteenth birthday and I never said I wasn't pissed!"

I grin at his questioning look and nod. He nods back.

"So now it's officially time to get this party started!"

"Right, that's it," mutters Hermione. "I'm never letting him watch a Muggle film again."

Chapter Four

Eurgh. Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing here? Well I know the answer to the first question, I'm Gina. Now onto the second. Exactly where am I? I crack my eyes open slightly, only not to recognise the dorm I'm in. Great, I'm not in my bed. What is it with Malfoys and waking up in other people's bed's after their sixteenth birthdays? What I'm doing here, um... well that's the question I really don't want to think about at the moment.

'Wow, waking up with a throbbing head and a shitty hangover, what a GREAT way to start your life as a sixteen-year-old,' my sub-conscience chastises. Wait since when have I listened to my sub-conscience? Ah, good someone's yelling is starting to distract me. Wait. Please say that isn't who I think it is...

"Regina??"

Oh shit, it's Draco. I open my eyes up so I can see through tiny slits, and lift my head up slightly, immediately regretting it when it only starts throbbing more. Why did he have to interrupt? I was quite comfortable lying here all cosy and warm next to... well next to whoever the hell I'm lying next to. But, no, he had to interrupt, didn't he?

"Hello brother dearest, what a lovely surprise! Now if you'd kindly leave me alone I think I have the worst hangover in the entire history of pain."

"What the hell are you doing in someone else's bed?"

Good God, he does go on, doesn't he? Well, I've tried the polite route, now for the not-so-polite route.

"I don't see how it's any of your fucking business whose bed I end up in, do you?"

The person behind me shifts, deciding this is the best time to wake up, obviously. Oh great, let's bring more people into this why don't we?

"Whossere?" He mutters distractedly, sticking his head up over mine and wincing at the pain. I shove my hand in front my eyes to stop them from the glare of red. Oh fuck. Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck. Could this get any worse?

"Weasley?" Draco yells. "Oh yes Gina, this is most definitely my fucking business!"

"Malfoy?" Ron says, confused and hung over. Not a good mixture. "What the hell are you doing in the Gryffindor Tower?"

"What the fuck are you doing in bed with my sister?" Malfoy yells.

"Touché." Ron replies, grinning. "But I don't really think that's it's any of your business who your sister decides to shag is it Malfoy?"

I almost laugh at the expression on Dracos face. Almost being the fact that I would if he wasn't coming towards Ron, his hands balled into fists muttering, "I'm going to fucking kill you, Weasley."

"That's enough, Mr Malfoy!" A sharp voice warns from the door. Oh great, Dumbledore. I suppose I should apologise for my fucking family yet again.

"I apologise for my brothers behaviour, Professor, but the rivalry between them really is quite deep." That should do the trick.

"That's quite alright Miss Malfoy, we didn't realise we would find you in such a... compromising position." I wince at his choice of words. "In fact we were having a job finding you at all. In the end we had to wake Mr Finnegan up from where was asleep on the Common Room floor and he directed us up here. He was quite surly with me actually, muttered something about 'never touching Firewhisky again'."

"Eurgh I second that motion," Ron mumbles, sitting up and giving Draco a scared look when he realises he has no shirt on. Draco just glares at him.

"And I third it," I say, sighing. "Now did you want anything specific, Draco, or are you just up here for a good yelling match with Ron and me?"

"Actually, yes," Dumbledore replies, shaking his head at Draco's expression. "We have some bad news, I'm afraid. It seems your father, Lucius Malfoy, has escaped from Azkaban."

"Shit!" I exclaim, just as I hear a muffled "Fucking hell!" from Ron.

"Quite, quite." Dumbledore dismisses our bad language instantly. "In fact, I was inclined to say the same when I heard from the Minister this morning." Somehow, I can actually imagine Dumbledore swearing and calling for a large brandy. Weird mind I've got. "You were, however, completely outdone by your brother here, who called his father some quite extraordinary things, which, quite frankly, I've never heard anyone called before."

"Yes, well, I'm not quite as scared of Lucius as Draco is," I mutter, just loud enough for Ron to hear. He chuckles.

Dumbledore continued. "Of course there are people out there looking for him, but so far, we have no idea where he has gone. You two wouldn't happen to know would you?"

"The Villa," Draco and I mutter at the same time. "It's a holiday home over in the north of Germany," I elaborate. "Bloody awful place, really gothically decorated, but that's where he's most likely gone."

Dumbledore nodded. "Thank you. Now I think we had better move swiftly onto your answer to Mr Malfoy's question, before I have to take him to Azkaban for Grievous Bodily Harm on young Mr Weasley."

I turn to Draco, angry with him once again. "We did not sha... sleep together!" I yell, turning apologetically to Dumbledore. "We got very pis... erm, drunk and then decided it was time for bed, but the rest of my year was already asleep and I didn't want to wake them up so Ron said I could share his bed! You should thank your lucky stars I'm not in the mob sleeping on the floor downstairs with Finn... er I mean Seamus. What would you think then, that I'd slept with all of them? I think Ron just said it to annoy you, right Ron?"

Ron chuckled. "Well it is very easy," he said, laughing at the look on Draco's face.

"I think on that note, Mr. Malfoy, we should leave what seems to be the sixth and seventh years and your sister to get some Anti-Hangover Potion from Madam Pomfrey. Oh, I'd love to be there to see that..." With that he shambled off, chuckling to himself and dragging Draco with him, who was mouthing, "I'll get you, Weasley! You're in big trouble!" over his shoulder.

"God, my family is sooo embarrassing," I say to Ron as soon as the door shuts.

"Hah! You haven't met mine yet!" Ron sighs. "I suppose we should brace ourselves for a lecture from Pomfrey on the irresponsibility and dangers of drinking, if we want our Anti-Hangover Potion."

I shake my head. "Uh-uh, I've got these." I pull out a packet of tablets and hand them to Ron, who reads the name of the cardboard packaging.

"Alka-Seltzer." He frowns. "Is this like the Muggle equivalent or summink?"

I nod. "Got it in one. They're actually a bit better than the potion, and they come minus the lecture. I think there's enough in there for Seamus and Harry as well. They'll need them."

I go to the bathroom and grab two glasses, filling them with water from the sink, wincing as I catch sight of myself in the mirror. God, I look like shit. Hair all over the place, mascara smudges only making my eyes look darker. Thank god I don't look anything like my family. If I didn't know that we don't have a milkman I'd question my parentage. Since when did I change into Rons jumper and shorts? I put the tablets into the water, listen to the fizzing sound, and take both glasses through into the dorm. As I walk through the door, I bump into Harry, making his way to the bathroom, and I pass him the tablets.

"You might want these if you don't want a lecture from Pomfrey."

He nods his thanks, and then thinks better of it, clutching his head and muttering, "Owwww!"

I pass one of the glasses to Ron and sit cross-legged opposite him.

"How much did Harry have to drink last night?" I ask, concerned about the noises of pain coming from the bathroom.

"That's the funny thing," Ron replies, taking the glass from me. "He didn't drink anything except Butterbeer. Well, bottoms up."

We both down the glasses all in one go. I come up gasping for breath, and Ron comes up gasping from the taste.

"Eurgh that stuff's foul!"

"Yeah, well, it's better than the potion," I reply. "Do you think we should go give some to Seamus? Oh, thanks, Harry." Harry passes me the packet of tables, looking decidedly less green and tumbles back into bed.

"Yeah, I suppose so." Ron tugs me off the bed and we both walk slowly down the stairs, trying not to disturb anyone.

The common room looks like a bomb's gone off in it. Bottles everywhere, crisps and cake trodden into the carpet, and the contents of someone's underwear drawer thrown onto the chandelier. White lace, nice. People sleeping take up every available space; the floor, sofas, chairs, even a sixth year asleep on a table. There's a croak from beside us and Ron picks up a large, bemused looking toad from the floor.

"Hello, Trevor. Are you looking for Neville? I think he's gone down to the greenhouses, lucky bugger wasn't drunk last night. Do you know where Seamus is?" The toad hops out of Ron's hands and down the stairs to the Portrait. "Obviously it's up to us to find him then."

"Erm, Ron?" I say, pointing. "He's asleep on Hermiones homework."

"I think it's best for the human race if we wake him up then." Ron looks scared.

"Right." I nod and place two Alka-Seltzers into a glass of water. I then bend over Seamus and tap him lightly on the shoulder.

"Eurgh."

"Seamus? Drink this." I hand him the glass and he drinks quickly, probably expecting it to be some sort of potion.

"Thank you for that. I was dreading going to see Pomfrey, she said if I went there for one more Anti-Hangover Potion this month she would Mobilicorpus my arse out of there and leave me to suffer." He shuddered. "So, Ron, where's that really cute bird you were snogging last night?"

"She just handed you that glass." He pointed to the glass I had just handed him. Yeah, so I didn't even dare think about that with Draco in the room, he's quite good at Occlumency, and I don't trust him as far as I can throw him. And letting him see that? That's just begging him to murder brutally. With his bare hands.

"Oh, erm, right. Hi." Hah, Finnegan doesn't know what to do with himself that's a first. "Hey, you're wearing Rons jumper!" He grins. Shut up grinning, Irish loon. "Did you two have fun last night?"

"Yes, I had a lovely time sleeping." I smile mockingly.

"Oh, right. I'll just shut up then."

"Yes," Ron agrees. "Before you put your abnormally large foot even further into your mouth."

"Hey you know what they say about big feet..."

"Big shoes."

They both turn and stare at me. What am I some kind of staring thing now? I have to look around to make sure I didn't wake up in the Hufflepuff dorm by mistake. But no, I'm just surrounded by incredibly stupid, if not quite cute, Gryffindor seventh years. How this year is going to pass its NEWT's I have no idea.

"It's supposed to be a joke. You know, haha, funny, laughing? Oh, forget it."

Suddenly there's a noise from the staircase leading to the girl's dormitories, and Hermione walks down, her hair looking even worse than it did last night.

"Good morning!" she chirps cheerfully. She wasn't drunk at all last night, which explains the impossible cheerfulness at half eight in the morning. "How are... Jesus Christ! What are my knickers doing on the chandelier? Accio Underwear!"

Wow, who knew Hermione wore white lacy knickers? Beats me what goes on in the head of a seventh year.

"Are they yours?" I ask with innocence. "They're really pretty. I think Harry had something to do with that last night."

"Oh... erm...right." Oh, that's laughable, she's gone bright red. If I were a proper Malfoy, I'd laugh but that's just horrible because it's not her fault. She walks over to the desk. "And why, may I ask, does my Transfiguration essay have a hand-print on it?"

"Ah, now that would be something to do with our dear friend Seamus here, who fell asleep on your homework."

"Seamus! That took me two hours to do! Just to teach you a lesson, when Professor McGonagall asks for it, I'm going to give it in like that, and tell her why it has a big Butterbeer handprint on it, and when she gives you detention do you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to laugh, because you deserve it! Honestly..."

It was at this point that Ron grabbed me by the arm and tugged me, running, out of the common room. We collapsed in the corridor by History of Magic, laughing wheezily.

"Did you see his face?" Ron asked, doubled-up with laughter. "Poor Seamus, he looked like he'd been hit by a bus!"

"No," I giggled. "It was a thousand times worse. He's been Hermione-hit!"

We sat there for several minutes, debating on what to do with our Saturday morning. I was a bit surprised when Ron had asked me what I wanted to do, I thought he would just want me to bugger off. He said that under no circumstances would he ever tell a mate to bugger off. Such a Gryffindor that one.

We were just discussing the point of going to Hogsmeade against the point of getting caught when Harry and Seamus rounded the corner, talking animatedly.

"Hermione let you of lightly then?" Ron asked with a shrug.

"Not bloody likely," Seamus replied wearily. "I'm only glad she didn't find out that it was me who spiked the Butterbeer."

"You did what?" Harry said, astounded. "I wondered why I was so hung over this morning."

"Ah, sorry 'bout tha'. I s'pose I got more than enough of a telling off this morning though. I don't think I've ever been yelled at that much, not even by me mam."

"Hermione says that she's staying in the common room today, to re-write her Transfiguration essay, so she let Seamus of on that one. What're we up to today then?"

I suddenly had a flash of, what do you call it? Wisdomosity, that's the one. "Ron? Do you think we should tell Harry about what Dumbledore said?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Well duh." He turned to face Harry. "Basically Lucius Malfoy has escaped from Azkaban and no one can find him. Not even the Aurors."

Harry's face was a picture. The look of terror was so funny I had to burst out laughing, there was no question of it.

"What the hell?" Now he just looked confused. "One of the most feared Death Eaters ever to walk the planet has escaped and she's standing there busting a gut! Will someone please tell me what's so funny?"

"It's just... it's just," I spluttered, trying to control my laughter. "That's my, well it's my 'daddy' you're talking about there, and you're all so scared. To you lot he's a Death Eater, but to me he's a person." I had calmed down considerably by this point. Everyone was looking at me again, was it a Gryffindor trait, do you think? Just standing around staring like erm... like two staring things.

Suddenly Professor McGonagall marched round the corner and stopped dead still in front of us. What in the name of Merlin did the old bat want know? I hadn't broken any rules in the past day that I knew of. Well, apart from participating in a very past-the-bedtime-hours party. And getting horrendously drunk. And sleeping in the boys dormitories. Ah bollocks.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Malfoy," Why did I always come last? I always came last on everything, even damned Christmas cards that we sent to everyone worth sending to addressed from 'The Malfoys'. Erlack. "Dumbledore wishes to see you in his office immediately. Oh and you too Mr Finnegan, as I doubt you don't know about it."

So we were frog marched all the way up to Dumbledores office, where we're sat now, being offered tea and politely declining. And then Draco walks in. Oh, my day gets better and better.

"Well now," begins Dumbledore, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "After my little talk with Mr. and Miss Malfoy and Mr. Weasley this morning, Minerva has expressed her concern that several Aurors cannot seem to do their jobs. I have been informed that Harry and Mr. Finnegan here also know, so they will have to be involved. However, it would be preferable if you five did not tell anyone else about the incident, we don't want any more people involved than we already have." He looks at us sternly. Get on with it man. "Now, you all know that Easter seems to have decided to fall absurdly early this year, yes?" We nod. "Now, it seems that the reason that the Aurors cannot find Lucius Malfoys place of residence is because of an old magic that few people still know of. The cognationis spell has been placed upon the building. This is an extremely complex type of magic which allows only the kin of the person inside the spell area to enter it. This means that only Mrs Malfoy, or Draco and Regina can actually see where the building is, both at its place and on any map in existence. This means that we have no choice but to send Mr and Miss Malfoy to find their father. Of course, now that several other people know of the incident, I will be sending you as well. There is always more safety in numbers. I'm sure that five students have more chance of being able to report finding Mr. Malfoy than two, especially if they are his children.

Now, we will portkey you to the Swiss border, but you will have to backpack across Germany from then on. Of course, you will be able to use magic, but your father will detect any large magical interferences, so try to use it as little as possible. I believe that Mr. Weasley here knows a variety of German phrases from several relatives, so communication will be simpler, and if you get stuck then there are plenty of spells for that kind of thing. The other students will be told that it is to be a Muggle studies trip, and that your names were picked at random. I believe that Miss Granger is going home for Easter so she will be told as she gets on the train, to cause the minimum stress possible. Any questions?"

"Yes," Draco says. Always awkward. "Do we have to go?"

Dumbledore's eyes narrow. "I'm very much afraid Mr. Malfoy, that you have no choice in the matter. If you find what you are searching for, do not hesitate to owl me, but then stay where you are. I beg you, do not try and solve the matter on your own. I will send several Aurors and a portkey, so that you can get out. If after three weeks you have not found Mr. Malfoy, I will send just the portkey. You will be leaving in exactly an hour's time, so pack light. Good luck."