Accidents of Circumstance

Part 11: New Eyes To See

"Please tell me I'm not interrupting your first snog."

Hermione and Ron flew apart at the sound of Draco's amused voice. Hermione was blushing fiercely, and Ron looked at Draco belligerently. Draco moved past them to the cauldron and inspected the contents. "At least Granger's competent."

Ron bristled and would have said something cutting, but Hermione put a hand on his arm to stop him. "It's not worth it, Ron. Let's just brew this and be done with it."

"Good thing it doesn't take a month," Ron muttered.

Harry hurried into the bathroom a few minutes later, a small cup in hand. "Fawkes lent me a few tears to add."

"How many?" Draco asked sharply.

"Four."

"Good. We need at least three."

The four teenagers worked in silence. Draco directed the other boys to the chopping and slicing and grating. Hermione was dealing with the datura and belladonna, carefully reducing it to a paste to add to the potion. At midnight, the potion was done. It was supposed to cool in the cauldron for a half hour until it appeared to gel slightly. The gel portion is scraped off and placed into a jar; this is to be rubbed into the subject's skin. The liquid portion at the bottom of the cauldron is placed into a glass to be drunk by the subject. It has to be a glass container that holds the potion after it leaves the cauldron, since it would easily be altered by contact with any other type of material.

The four students used Harry's Invisibility Cloak to sneak into the Infirmary. Filch and Mrs. Norris were nowhere to be found, luckily. The glass jar and glass full of potion were brought into Regina's room without difficulty, and they shut the door. Harry pulled off the cloak, then folded it neatly and placed it on the chair. When the plan had first been hatched, Draco had sneered at them and asked if they had a plan. Harry had just quietly replied that he had his father's cloak to hide them. Draco had pretended indifference, but they all knew he was impressed by the Invisibility Cloak.

Hermione and Ron began rubbing the gel into Regina's face as Draco motioned for Harry to prop up her head. When they moved on to her hands and arms, Draco slowly tipped the glass so that the fluid fell into Regina's slack mouth. He only gave a little at a time, making sure the liquid slid down her throat but didn't choke her. Harry almost asked how he knew just how to dose a comatose person with potion, but stayed silent. It was probably another one of those things about Draco he didn't want to know.

When the potion was done, and Hermione and Ron were finished with the gel, they sat and waited for it to take effect. They really didn't know when it would happen, or even what the effect would be, but they were sure that it would happen. Regina knew some kinds of magic inside and out, so that even if she had made up the potion, it would do what she had planned for it to do. They had faith in her.

"What will you do, Draco?" Hermione asked quietly, after about five minutes had passed in uncomfortable silence.

"When?"

"You're probably not going to be able to go home this summer."

Draco's lips tightened, the only sign that he was upset. "I know."

"Why did you do it, then? Why refuse the Mark and give up everything?"

"Sometimes the path you want isn't the same one everyone else wants."

"So what do you want?" Ron asked. He didn't sound combative at all.

"Something different," Draco said after a moment. He had almost said Ginny, but doubted it would go over well. Ron took his responsibilities as big brother seriously.

"Why are you helping us?" Ron asked, trying to keep most of the suspicion from his voice.

"This is for Regina. She likes you three."

"And what do you think?" Harry asked guardedly. He was still trying to reconcile the image in his head of a cocky, belligerent Malfoy flanked by Crabbe and Goyle doing their worst to make his life a living nightmare.

"I don't need to answer that."

"I'd like to know," Harry said quietly, hands hidden in the folds of his cloak. Draco found the image of Harry without his hands oddly disturbing.

"Why? You said you could tell the wrong sort for yourself."

"I'm asking because suddenly it's not so clear who the wrong sort is."

"Not Draco," Ginny said from the doorway, a large book on the Tarot in her arms. It wasn't as battered as all her other books, so Draco assumed it was from the library. "Not at this point, anyway."

"Gin!" Ron cried, shooting to his feet. "What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep. I thought I'd read to Regina. She likes the Tarot, you know, so it seemed like a good enough subject to entertain her." Ginny swept into the room and used her wand to bring in another chair. She positioned herself between Draco and the rest of the group, right next to Regina's bed, and propped up the book on the edge of the bed. There was a piece of parchment in the book, marking her place.

The book also hid the fact that Ginny was nudging Draco's knee slightly with her own in silent support.

She removed the parchment, which was littered with notes, and was about to read when Regina suddenly gasped, shooting into an upright position in bed. Her eyes were wide open, and the color was swirling between hazel and blue. Ginny reached out and grasped one of Regina's hands tightly. Regina turned those swirling eyes on the five teenagers in front of her, and her mouth gaped open. She made choking sounds, as if she couldn't breathe. Draco jumped to his feet and thumped on her back with quick, sure strokes.

She coughed up a silver locket and a silver lighter. After a few more coughs and thumps on the back, a small black ovoid object came up as well.

With a sigh, Regina's eyes closed, and she began falling backwards. Draco caught her, and Ginny grasped the objects in Regina's lap. They were completely dry, as if they had been magicked out of her body. She opened the catch to the locket, and Ginny saw symbols etched into the inside that she didn't recognize. They looked familiar somehow, maybe from the one time she had visited Regina and wound up confessing her loneliness and the incident from first year. There was something about Regina that let you know she was a survivor too, and that whatever you said would be completely understood.

Not understanding the significance, she carefully folded the locket and shut it. She let Ron, Harry and Hermione fuss over Regina, and picked up the lighter and black egg as well. She looked at them, felt something powerful in them, and put them into one of the pockets of her robe. Ginny took up her forgotten textbook, and met Draco's eyes. She could see the longing in them, and she gave him a ghost of a smile. They had talked last night, after their kisses, and he had told her many things. She had told him many things in return. Whether they were feeling something real or not had also come up. That was when Draco had said that he loved Regina. Whether or not it was a sexual kind of love was undecided. Ginny had laughed at him then, asking jokingly if he had ever loved anyone before to be so confused.

"No," he had whispered softly, his hands over hers. "Not ever."

Not his parents either. His parents were distant figures to him, and he had always wondered if it was some failing in him that he had never been able to love them, or that they had never been able to love him.

Ginny threw her arms around him that night, and just held him tightly. She didn't say a word then, knowing that anything she said would be trite and silly and just the wrong thing to say to Draco. He had held her tightly, and had sniffled a bit. "There's something wrong with me, I need to be fixed and I don't know how to ask..."

Ginny had stroked his hair softly, making little crooning noises. She had been vaguely aware that she was sounding an awful lot like her mother just then, and let the thought go. She wasn't feeling very maternal toward Draco. She had kissed his temple. "It's not fixing yourself, Draco. It's accepting it and moving on. There's nothing to fix."

"It hurts."

"It's life."

"Regina said that, too."

"It's true."

Ginny now looked back at Regina, who was looking around the room with a startled expression on her face. She was in good hands. Ginny looked up at Draco and mouthed the words "Meet me later near the library," and left the infirmary.

She wanted to study these objects. If someone insisted on asking her to explain herself, she would have said that she was drawn to them without really knowing why. But that wasn't the real answer. It was just the answer that she was used to giving, an evasive half-answer to protect herself. She had learned the hard way that revealing everything did nothing but expose weakness for others to exploit.

She was the seventh child. That in itself indicated strong magic in folklore. Usually it was the seventh son, especially of a seventh son, but Ginny knew that most of the really strong magic ran in the blood of the women. Merlin was one of the few truly great male wizards, but the real magic was strong and old and feminine, running in the background, out of sight of history. Men would do great things, or terrible things, grab at the spotlight and force a place in history. Women were content to pull strings in the background, usually.

What made Ginny doubly powerful was the fact that Molly Weasley herself was a seventh child, even if she didn't know it. When Ginny had been little, maybe six or seven years old, Molly's mother had come to visit. It was to be her last visit to the Burrow, but Ginny didn't know that at the time. She remembered her grandmother smelling of lavender and carrying sweet mints in her pocket to give to her favorite granddaughter, her seventh of seventh, her girl with the Sight in her third eye. Ginny had always believed it to be a joke between them, since her grandmother had never said that in Molly's hearing. But that last summer visit, Ginny's grandmother had told Ginny the story of a young girl who didn't know where she had come from. Every question had been blocked, and there was no answer to be found. So she didn't know her family, why she had been abandoned. So when she fell in love, she had a large family. Her fourth child, a little boy, had fallen from the tree he had climbed as her back had been turned, climbing so he could jump onto the roof of the house and feel taller than his father. So her sixth living child, a little girl named Molly, was actually the seventh child.

"And who knows? I may be a seventh child as well."

Ginny sat on the floor near the library. "Lumos," she whispered, and the tip of her wand emitted a soft glow. She pulled out the lighter and looked at it. It was a simple silver lighter, rectangular in shape, with a thin line marking where the cap ended and the body began. The hinge was small, but Ginny had seen enough of this kind of lighter from her father's Muggle item collection to know how it worked. She opened the lighter and flicked it on. It took her three tries before the lighter actually lit.

There was someone in the hallway, and it wasn't Draco.

Ginny nearly dropped the lighter, but she held onto it. The man was fairly tall, with dark brown hair streaked with gray. He had Muggle clothing on, well worn but elegant. He looked at her in curiosity, then suddenly smiled at her.

"Are you a ghost? I've never seen you before." Ginny said. Her voice wavered a little.

"You have great potential if you can see me."

"I'm the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter."

"Ah..." He grinned at her even wider. "My wife told me about magic, all sorts of things. And sevens and threes are probably the luckiest and most cursed numbers."

"There's power in them."

"And you like learning about that, don't you?" He pointed at the book in her lap.

"These things... It's like I already know how to do it without studying, but the studying just makes it clearer..."

"Of course it does," the man said gently, coming closer. He had hazel eyes, and Ginny's mouth dropped open as she realized who he must be. "Your new eyes are just developing, dear, so it's bound to be a little strange. You can trust in Gina. If she can't help you herself, chances are she knows someone who can. She knows lots of people, lots of friends and friends of friends. You will be great one day, if that's what you want."

"I don't know yet, though... I think my family wants me to work in the Ministry."

Regina's father made a face. "Oh dear. Not for you, you have a wild streak in you that reminds me of Gina."

Ginny laughed. "I can't see her in a Ministry job."

Regina's father suddenly turned serious. "Watch over Gina, will you? She's... fragile in some ways, I think. She would kill me if she knew I mentioned it, but her mother and I worry, even now."

"But why me? Why ask me to do this?"

"Because you still have hope for the impossible."

Draco, Ginny thought wildly. "But it's not impossible."

The smile he flashed her was warm and friendly. "Maybe not for you, but for others it would be. He's drawn to you, same as he is to my Gina. The two of you have strength, and you have that fragility that he wants to protect. The contradiction puzzles him, you know, and he's the type to not like confusion. Reminds me of me at that age."

"Really?" Ginny looked at Regina's father, who looked rather confident. "So what happened to you?"

"I grew up. Met my wife. Got the sense shocked into me. Life happens," he said with a shrug and a small smile. "Things happen and life goes on. It depends on how you react to it, and that will set you on the path you're meant to be on."

"That sounds like Regina."

"Where do you think she gets it from?" he asked, amused. He began to fade as he laughed.

"Wait!"

"I'm not of this plane, and you're not strong enough yet to keep me here. Don't worry... you'll find others along the way to help you... Maybe my wife Genie will visit you..."

Ginny shut the lighter. She liked Regina's father; he reminded her a little of her own father. He seemed less likely to joke around, and more likely to take everything seriously. Then again, this wasn't exactly a fun time.

Ginny heard footsteps coming, and whispered "Nox," dimming the light at the end of her wand. It was most likely Draco, but just in case...

It was Draco. He looked a little worried to see her sitting on the floor in the dark, but he didn't say anything. She was almost sixteen, after all, and it wasn't his place to complain. Draco sat down next to her on the floor. "You like the dark, don't you?"

"I had wand light before, but I didn't want Filch to see me if he was coming this way."

Ah. That explained it. "She's awake, but not talking much."

Ginny leaned into Draco. "I know she's fine. I was there. How are you?"

He wished he could be snide and ask why she cared. He wished he could just stand up and let her fall to the stones, laugh at her and walk away. He wished he could be the same snotty brat he had been even last year, secure in himself and the knowledge that everything was set and he didn't have to worry about anything.

Ginny felt his breath hitch, knew he was trying not to cry. She had done it herself almost every night the first few weeks at St. Mungo's. "It's all right if you cry."

"No it's not," he whispered hoarsely, looking out into the dark hallway. "Malfoys don't cry, they don't show fear, they don't react with anything but disdain for the masses."

"And if that's not who you are anymore?" Ginny asked gently.

"Then I don't know what else to be."

Ginny felt that sharp tug inside her chest, knowing it matched his. She closed her eyes as she leaned further into him, feeling her senses expand further. She had done this only a handful of times since her grandmother's death when she was ten. It had always scared her when she was younger, since she had never known what it was. The last time it had happened, she had been in Divination, looking at tea leaves. And then suddenly, she looked into the leaves and saw her future, saw her back in a yellow dress standing next to a man in black with pale blond hair, looking at the sunset together, and knew that they were together. She didn't know if they were married, but knew that at least they were together, and happy. She felt the tug in her chest, felt as though her mind could encompass the world, and saw her brother lying on the floor, up against a stone wall, sword aimed at his chest held by a black-gloved hand.

And then Trelawney had shaken her, saying she had fallen off of her stool, was she all right now? Did she need to see Madam Pomfrey?

Ginny didn't fight it this time. If anything, she tried to see if she could make it happen faster, if she could draw in Draco's consciousness with her own.

And then the world shifted.

Draco was sitting in a strange room at a desk. It had to be a Muggle home, given the large entertainment center centered prominently on the wall. Light streamed in through the window, and he was reading a large book covered in black leather. It looked to be very old, and Ginny tried to shift her perspective so that she could read the page he was on. She didn't recognize the symbols on the page, but Draco did. He gasped beside her, clenching her hand tight, not knowing what was happening but not stopping it, either. He wanted to see how this played out, wanted to know everything that was happening.

He couldn't help but be fascinated by all the secrets Ginny seemed to keep.

Ginny moved the vision off to the side, to explore the room. It was a cheerful one, but wasn't a bedroom. It looked like a study, since there were a few shelves with books on one side of the room, but it was primarily for entertainment purposes. Sun streamed in through the three windows, and Ginny moved to one. There was a large grass lawn, a rose garden off to the left and a small orchard to the right. She could see a flash of red hair near the orchard, and it looked like Ron and Hermione whispering together.

She had no idea where she was, and neither did Draco. She decided to wander from the study, and stepped into a hallway. There were electric lights and sconces for candles, none of which were lit. Paintings and photographs lined the walls, and it took some time for them to realize they were looking at photos of Regina as a child with her parents or the various foster siblings she had lived with during her vacations from school. She still kept in contact with some of them, squealing over their children as if they were her blood relatives.

Wandering down the hallway, Ginny wandered into the kitchen. There was Harry, rummaging in the refrigerator for a drink, talking to Hermione's father about Quidditch. He was genuinely interested, while Hermione's mother seemed to be rolling her eyes a lot, but in a good natured way. Harry looked happy to be with them, talking about one of his favorite activities with people that wouldn't turn around and smack him in the face.

Do they really? Ginny heard Draco's voice in the back of her mind. She nodded slightly, and knew Draco had understood her.

She continued wandering through the house, seeing various members of her family. Fred and George were playing on Regina's PS2, some game where they were giant robots wreaking havoc on a city and each other. Her parents were nearby, though her father's attention was mostly directed longingly at the electronic system against the wall.

Regina was out on the porch, having iced tea and sitting on a rocking chair. She was patting her stomach contentedly. Snape was pacing next to her, but he looked healthier, less sallow and pained. He had a haircut, and wasn't wearing heavy black robes. He looked as though he was complaining about the influx of Weasleys into his home, but Regina was being obstinate and was willfully ignoring him.

Neither teen recognized the house or where it was or why they would all be there in what looked to be the height of summer.

Where are you? Draco thought, his voice sounding panicked.

And then the bubble burst, and Ginny was only looking into the dark hallway around the library. She blinked rapidly, readjusting her eyes to the darkness after the bright summer sun of the vision. "I've never been able to move it around before," she whispered in awe. "I didn't think I could do it."

"But why didn't I see you?"

Ginny finally felt the pain in her hand, and peeled Draco's fingers from hers. "I didn't look for myself. If I did, I'd probably be in the rose garden. It looked pretty."

She sounded almost wistful, and Draco felt the pain in his chest twist. "We have a garden at the manor. Mother designed it, and the gardeners carried it out. It... You would like it if you saw it, I think."

Ginny could feel the panic in him, feel the worry and fear in his voice. "Draco?"

"What if you're not there? What's good in having a future if you're not in it?"

She felt her mouth drop open, felt her heart stop. She felt Draco's breath hitch, and reached out with numbed fingers to touch his lips. "I'm going to be here. I'm going to be there, too. I'll try to make it happen again, to show you..."

"No, what if it hurts you, I can... feel you somehow... in my head, my chest, it hurts, and I know it's from you, too, and I know-"

"Draco, stop. You're panicking for no reason."

"What if you leave?"

"I'm not going anywhere, Draco."

"You say that, but how can you mean it? How? When I've treated your family so badly?"

"Not you, your father. I don't equate the two of you."

"Why not?! He practically fucking molded me in his image."

"But you're not him, he's not you, and nothing is going to happen to us."

"Something's going to happen, I know it."

"Not to us." Ginny was becoming more and more certain of it.

"Something is coming, Ginny. Something bad."

She leaned forward and kissed him instead of replying. He groaned, grabbing hold of her and pulling her close. She straddled his lap and wrapped her arms around him tightly. "You're not alone anymore, Draco. I've got you now."

He cradled her face in his hands. "Why?"

"We understand each other, and we can help each other."

"Is that all it is?"

"No," she whispered, and dropped her forehead to his. "But I'm too afraid to say it."

He grinned at her. "It's not just me, then?"

"No. I'm so scared of it, too. It doesn't happen this fast except in books, right?"

"Don't tell me you read romance novels," Draco said with a groan.

"All girls do at some point," Ginny replied defensively.

"You're supposed to be different."

"I am. I'm the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter."

Draco stilled. "You didn't tell me that."

"You know I'm the youngest of seven."

"That's bad enough, but your mother too?"

"Yes. Why? Is that bad?"

"When I was eight, I convinced my mother to let me come with her on a shopping trip in Diagon Alley. Usually I stayed with the nanny in the children's wing and she would just visit me and then leave. But she agreed that I was well behaved, and could go with her without my nanny as a reward. There was a fortune teller there, and my mother went over to the booth.

"The woman told my mother that not too many people want to hear the truth. My mother then told her to predict her future, if she saw so true. The woman asked for her fee first, in case my mother would get so angry she might not pay. Mother was insulted, of course, but the woman explained that she had bad experiences and asked that of everyone. So my mother threw down some money.

"She told my mother that her pearl necklace would go missing that very night, and she would think I did it. My mother may value great learning, but the things she was learning would bring her nothing but misery once it was finished. And that she would always lose something of great value, until at last she lost me to the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter."

"What did your mother do?" Ginny asked when Draco fell silent.

"She lost her pearl necklace somewhere in Diagon Alley that day. She accused me of taking it, and I was punished, all right, just like always. And Mother could never keep track of her jewelry, her pins, the correspondence. Some days she would lock herself in the library at home for hours on end, not even eating. Maybe she was looking for a way to stop it. Father said she had been cursed, since she was always perfect before then."

"And you think now she's lost you?"

"I know she did."

Ginny felt silent, rubbing his shoulders slightly. "You'd... my family's really big, on both sides. After being all by yourself for so long, it's something to get used to."

Draco shut his eyes tightly. "Do you think they could ever like me?"

"Well, it'll take time. But they will. I do."

"Hah. You haven't the sense of a pin."

Ginny smacked his shoulder playfully. "Draco!"

He laughed suddenly, arms around her, and pulled her closer. "It's all right, I like you anyway." He kissed her softly.

Ginny pulled away to yawn. "Sorry, it's late."

"I'll walk you to the tower."

She climbed off of his lap and picked up the library book. When Draco offered his arm playfully, she took it. "You had etiquette lessons, didn't you?" she teased.

Draco seemed a little embarrassed. "Well, of course. It was expected."

"So what's the proper etiquette in dating the daughter of the enemy?"

"Hm... I do believe I've already renounced my family in all but name, and I am escorting you around after midnight." Draco felt silly, being playful and teasing like this, but he saw the grin on Ginny's face and let himself be flip without being sarcastic.

To his surprise, he liked it a lot better.

"And next on the list?"

"That should be seduction."

She stilled slightly and looked up at him, stopping. "Would you?"

"What? Seduce you?" Draco rolled his eyes at her. "Well, I certainly wouldn't tell you in advance, you know."

There was that odd sensation in her chest again, that flutter just before her senses expanded. This time she suppressed it. She wanted it to be a surprise.

"Good."

Draco smiled in answer to her grin, and then continued leading the way.

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