Galatea

Chapter Three

The Plague of Great Ones

Yet, 'tis the plague of great ones;

Prerogatived are they less than the base;

'Tis destiny unshunnable, like death

--Othello, Act III, scene III

Delia stirred, then slowly opened her eyes, a languorous smile on her face. Her satisfaction vanished, though, when she rolled over to face the center of the bed. The other side was unoccupied. Damn him and his rude, imperious, superior attitude. He obviously needed some instruction on morning-after etiquette. Leaving without so much as a goodbye...damn him.

* * * * *

Dana was sound asleep when someone grabbed her shoulder and shook. She woke instantly, grabbed the arm of the intruder, and flipped him over onto the bed. In the blink of an eye, her wand was in her hand and trained at his throat. "Caicer, Caibell, and Callieach Bhéirre," Mike swore. "How did you move that fast?"

Dana blinked in surprise, then pulled her wand away. "What do you think you're doing, knocking me up like that?"

Mike closed his hands around her waist and moved her aside so he could sit up. "Ginny's gone. I just went in to bring her some juice. Her bed is unmade, and she's not there."

"Her things?"

"All over the floor."

"What about her car?"

"It's not in the lot."

Dana smiled. She was happy for Ginny, genuinely happy. "Good."

"Good? What the hell do you mean, good? She's been kidnapped, or --"

Dana couldn't hold back a snort of laughter. Agent Jezebel, kidnapped? Impossible.

Her amusement added anger to Mike's worry. "I'm glad you think this is so funny. I thought she was your friend. We have to phone the Ministry, or maybe -"

"Hey," Dana interrupted, "did it occur to you that maybe she left on her own?"

It obviously hadn't. "On her own? That doesn't make any sense. Where would she have gone, without taking her things?"

Dana flopped onto her back and smiled up at Mike. "I can think of a place."

His face was blank, then realization dawned, followed by disgust. "You're not serious."

She laughed and pulled his face down until it was close enough to kiss. "It's about time, don't you think?"

"I do not think." Mike pulled out of Dana's grasp and scrambled back into a sitting position. "She doesn't know what she's doing. She --"

"That's enough." Dana sat up and faced him. "Ginny came here like you asked. If she went back to Harry's, then it's because it was her own choice. She was removed from the situation and made her decision at a distance. And," at this, her voice became stern, "you'll be happy for her, or I'll know the reason why."

"You can't just --"

"I'm not saying you have to like Harry. For reasons known only to you two, that will probably never happen. Still, she's your best friend and he's her choice. You owe it to her to respect her decision."

"I can't."

"Then fake it." Dana reached for the bathrobe that hung from the bedpost. It was Mike's, but he was only a few inches taller than she so it fit well. She liked wearing it because it smelled like him. Even when he was being irritating and stubborn, she still enjoyed his scent. There was something comforting about it.

"Are you serious? You expect me to lie?"

She turned to look back on her way out of the room. "Absolutely. You don't have to support her actions if you don't want to, but you do have to support her. I shouldn't have to tell you this, Mike. By now, you should have figured out how to be a good friend."

"She's making a mistake. As her friend, it's my job to tell her --"

"Harry is a good man. He loves her," Dana interrupted.

Mike leaned back against the headboard and scowled, his arms crossed over his chest. "So once again, he gets what he wants just because he wants it. I swear, if a regular person were given even half the special treatment he's received over the years --"

"She loves him too, Mike!" At this outburst, Mike silenced. Dana continued, "She loves him. Support her for that, then."

"She does not."

"We've all known it for years. You're the only one who can't see it. She loves him and there's nothing you can do about it. You owe it to your friendship to support her. Why do you care so much? I don't see why..." Dana trailed off and looked at him, lost. "Do you still love her?"

He swung his legs off the bed and stood, strode across the room to face her. "What? Dana, is that what you think?"

"What am I supposed to think, when you freak out like this?"

He shook his head and gave a small, self-depreciating laugh. "It would be hard to still love someone you've never loved in the first place. I mean..." At Dana's incredulous expression, his tone changed. "All right, I love Ginny. There. I said it. I love her. Is that what you wanted to hear?" He sounded hurt. "But I'm not in love with her. How could you even think...I've never..."

"You were with her for years."

Mike brushed a tendril of Dana's hair back from her face. "Those years were the hardest time of my life. She was there, and she needed me, goddess knows why. She never explained, but I sometimes felt...I don't know. I needed her too. I still do, but in a different way."

"Then be happy for her."

"I can't." At Dana's expression, though, Mike amended, "I'll try my best. And if that doesn't work, I'll pretend."

"Yeah?"

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then another, longer one to her lips. "Yeah." Two kisses later, Mike asked, "Are you free for lunch this afternoon?"

Dana nodded. "Do you want to meet in the employee dining room?"

"No," said Mike. "Let's go to a real restaurant. I'm tired of Ministry food."

"It's a date then." She knew he was apologizing the only way he knew how.

"I'll make up some tea while you shower."

He really could be very sweet and thoughtful, Dana reflected, when he wanted to be.

* * * * *

Harry and Ginny lay, limbs tangled together and wound in the sheets. They didn't speak, just held each other, both dwelling on their shared dream and the ramifications of what had happened the night before. As the fiery fingers of dawn streaked across the blue night sky, their eyes closed and, from sheer exhaustion, they finally fell asleep.

* * * * *

Dana sat in Ginny's office and stared out the window, one hand propping up her chin, the other twirling a quill. She'd spent much of the past week doing fieldwork, going along on sting operations, even ones that didn't involve her team. Her hours in the office made her dwell on Ginny's abrupt departure from the division. Dana was angry. She couldn't help the way she felt, even though she'd known for ages that Ginny would either leave or have a nervous breakdown. And, for goddess's sake, Ginny had killed one of her best friends. Dana couldn't help but feel a trifle heartless for begrudging Ginny her freedom after Shannon's death.

And Shannon started her along another avenue of thought; one Dana had traveled many times in the past few days. According to Ginny's file, last week the Death Eaters cornered her outside of the club and gave chase. Why? Why Ginny? Because there was no doubt in Dana's mind that Ginny had been a deliberate target. It just seemed like too much of a coincidence. At the Beltaine Ball, too, Death Eaters had been spotted outside the ring of bonfires and once again, Ginny had been cornered. Then there was the matter of the Muggle incident in the alley behind the pub last year, the day of Osiris's funeral. It was all there in Ginny's file, documented in her methodical way. Why had she been the subject of so many kidnap attempts?

Dana firmly believed that these were kidnap attempts since, according to the file, no one had ever attempted Avada Kadavera on Ginny. Her code name couldn't have been discovered. If that were true, the Death Eaters would have bypassed kidnapping and gone straight to revenge. Her family would've been dead a long time ago. So what was it about Ginny that made her a target? Dana might feel betrayed by her leader's sudden departure but, as an Auror, she had an obligation to keep Ginny safe. To do that, though, Dana would need to discover her secret. She felt like there was an important piece of the puzzle lurking just behind her consciousness. Something she should remember but couldn't quite. It was on the tip of her tongue, the edge of her mind. She just couldn't seem to catch hold...

A knock at the door shook her out of her reverie. It was Agent Saturn, Mike in tow. "Mr. Fletcher," Saturn announced.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," Mike said. He seemed uncomfortable.

"Not at all. I was just trying to remember something." Dana smiled and motioned for him to have a seat.

He remained standing. "Don't think about it and it'll come to you. That always works for me."

She picked up a folder. "I have to give this to Catherine. Do you mind waiting?"

"Don't take too long," he said. "I feel weird in here."

"You do?"

"It was my father's office."

Dana didn't know what to say to that. "Okay. I'll be back in a moment."

Catherine was reading an owl post when Dana poked her head in. The wax seal on the parchment was red -- it was a top-priority message from a team leader. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to interrupt. I just need to drop off this week's time sheets for payroll."

Catherine's eyes flicked up from her note. "That's your second's job, Nimue. Now that you're a team leader, learn to delegate."

"If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself," Dana replied.

Catherine arched an eyebrow. "Agent Saturn isn't performing up to your expectations?"

"Of course he is," Dana said, quick to defend. "It's just...I don't know...I don't want to get out of practice for when Ginny comes back."

Catherine motioned to the scroll on her desk. "You can talk to her about that yourself, later this afternoon. Agent Midas just owled to say that he has vital information and needs to speak with me as soon as possible. He and Jezebel will get here soon. You'll be nearby when they arrive."

That would give Dana just enough time to grab a quick lunch with Mike. "Absolutely."

"Good." Catherine took the payroll folder and handed them to an intra-office owl. It flew off to the accounting department, timesheets clutched in its beak.

Dana shifted on her feet, unsure how to excuse herself from the room. Catherine spared her the trouble. "Dismissed, Nimue. Be in your office ninety minutes from now."

"Yes ma'am."

* * * * *

They woke around noon. Harry scribbled a note to Catherine while Ginny showered and dressed. Then, as he took a turn in the shower, Ginny made toast and poured two glasses of juice. It wasn't much of a morning-after breakfast, but toast was the most edible thing in her repertoire. Her mother often despaired of her culinary skills.

Harry had no comment on the meager fare. He spread his toast with strawberry jam and didn't seem to notice that there was nothing else to eat. "We'll go to the Ministry first so I can tell Catherine about the dream."

"You won't mention that I had it too," Ginny said sharply.

He waved his hand for her to sit. "Of course not. Anyway, it'll be a chance for you to collect your stuff from your office."

"I don't think I have any stuff."

"Everyone has stuff, Gin," he said, starting on his second slice of toast. "I'm sure Dana has been tripping over it the past week. She'll want you to get it out of the way."

"Okay." Ginny didn't want to go back to the division, not ever again. But she wasn't going to talk her way out of it, that much was obvious.

"Then," said Harry, "we'll go to Hogwarts."

"It'll be a waste of time, I can tell you that right now."

He shook his head. "Dumbledore has a right to know. Even you have to admit that."

Ginny sighed. "Fine. Whatever you want. If it'll make you feel better to talk to him, then I'll go along. I haven't seen my brother in a while, at any rate. This'll give me the chance to pop in and say hello."

Harry nodded. That could've been a lot more difficult than it was. "I told Catherine we'd be there at one thirty. I'll do the washing up, since you cooked breakfast."

Ginny thought that the word cooked was perhaps a bit much, but she didn't argue. She wanted to get these visits over with so she could speak with MórrÃ-gan. Tomorrow was Imbolc, the first calendar feast of the year. Tonight the Otherworld would be open to her. The goddess would tell her what she and Harry had seen in their dream, and how to go about it. Let Harry put his faith in Dumbledore if he wanted to, but Ginny knew the true source of power in the Wizarding world, the silver-blooded goddess who couldn't be less similar to the aged Professor.

* * * * *

Catherine waited in the lobby. Ginny gave a curt nod. The division head's smile faded at her prized Auror's cool greeting. "It's true then? You're not coming back?"

"Not for all the gold in Gringotts."

Catherine shook her head. "I won't pretend to understand you. I've never seen an Auror so talented, and yet so absolutely unsuited for the job."

"It's a paradox," Ginny said sarcastically.

"Midas, we can speak in a moment. Jezebel --"

"You can call me Ginny now. I do have a name."

Harry nudged her with his elbow. You're being rude. Stop it. He was not graced with a reply.

"Ginny," Catherine corrected, "you'll have to wait here. Someone will come along to escort you back. I believe Nimue has gathered your things."

See, everybody has stuff. Still, he got no answer.

As he followed Catherine through the door, the division head told him, "Wait for me in conference room three. I'll be along in a minute."

* * * * *

Dana enjoyed having lunch with Mike. He was always full of funny stories about his day, and if he wasn't as interested in hearing about life as an Auror, she couldn't quite blame him. At any rate, he never failed to leave her in stitches. She thought he'd missed his calling; he should have been a stand-up comic. He sometimes reminded her of Seamus that way, although in temperament the two were really quite different. He didn't mention the conversation they'd had that morning, and she didn't bring it up either. After her meal, Dana settled into her new office with every intention of plowing through the mountain of paperwork Ginny had left her.

She had only been at it for half an hour when a soft knock came at the door and Catherine stepped in. Dana smiled and waved for her boss to have a seat. "How are you settling in?" the Division head asked.

"All right. It's kind of intimidating, but I'll get used to it."

"Take your time," Catherine said. "You have some big shoes to fill. Speaking of, I need you for a minute. There's a job that has to be done; I hope you can take care of it."

"Sure," Dana said, setting her quill back in its holder and standing. "What's going on?"

"Jezebel and Midas just walked in. She needs to collect her personal items, and he needs to speak to me about something."

Dana stared. "Her personal items? You mean she's really not coming back?"

"I know we all hoped that she'd change her mind, probably you most of all. Still, are you really surprised that this is how things have turned out?"

"No," Dana said softly, remembering the wasted look behind Ginny's eyes in the last weeks of her Auror career. "What do you need me to do?"

"She's a civilian now; she'll have to be escorted back here. I'd like you to...take care of her. Make sure you bring your wand."

"Sorry?"

"Take care of her." Catherine looked at Dana's blank face for a moment before realizing the agent had no idea what she was talking about. "She knows too much, Nimue. She's a font of classified information. If she were ever captured by the other side, we might never recover from the damage she could do."

"Ginny wouldn't ever tell anything," Dana said automatically. "Not ever."

"They have ways of opening the mind, tortures too horrible for us to even imagine. I need you to Obliviate her."

Dana didn't like that at all. "It's wrong; you know it is. She trusts me. I can't just erase her memory."

"It's policy, Nimue. It's for the best."

"I don't want to."

"I don't care. I'm ordering you to. I'd do it myself, but I need to talk to Midas. I want it done by the time he and I are finished."

Dana knew that there was no way to get out of it, so she reluctantly nodded, picked her wand up from where it lay on her desk, and tucked it into the holster at her side.

Ginny waited in the lobby of the division's office space. Harry and Catherine had closeted themselves in a conference room, but Ginny couldn't go back without an escort. She felt her friends and colleagues nearby, just on the other side of the door, but she was no longer one of them. She didn't miss it one bit.

A smile broke across Ginny's face when Dana stuck her head out into the waiting area. "I'm sorry I left in the middle of the night like that. I'll bet Mike was a bear when he woke up."

"He wasn't happy," Dana allowed.

Ginny asked, "How are you?"

There were so many things Dana wanted to say. She wanted to ask how her former team leader could strand her like this, in a position of such grave responsibility. She wanted to know what had finally given her the courage to quit. Most of all, though, Dana wanted to ask how Ginny could, in all good conscience, abandon the fight, leave the light side to flounder along without her help and protection. She was Agent Jezebel. They needed her, but she had abandoned them. In spite of all this, the words that came out of her mouth were a simple, "Fine, thanks. And how are you?" It wasn't at all what Dana had meant to say, and she was surprised to hear the words spoken in her own voice.

"I've been better," Ginny said, thinking of the dream, and the balance. Then she thought of Harry. "But I've also been worse."

Dana held the door open and Ginny stepped into the main office. "I've put your things in a box. There wasn't much." There really hadn't been. All of Ginny's clutter had been work paraphernalia: scrolls, files, forms, manuals. Upon moving into the office, Dana had been surprised at Ginny's lack of personal items. She'd had a spare cloak hanging in her closet, a framed picture of her family (plus Harry and Hermione) taken at the grand opening of the Diagon Alley branch of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, a packet of cigarettes, and a small photo of Mike that alternated between smiling cheerfully and sticking his tongue out at the viewer. Dana knew that Ginny and Mike were close friends - that Ginny was probably Mike's closest friend - but she also knew their history and couldn't help a small twinge at finding a photo of him in her office. She had put those thoughts aside, though. Ginny and Mike were over, romantically speaking, and Dana would never come between Mike and his best friend. She'd never considered herself the jealous type and, anyway, she knew which one of them he'd choose.

Dana reached out, but Ginny's hand grasped the office doorknob first. "Wow," she said, surveying the room that, up until a week ago, had been hers. "You're a lot neater than I am."

"I like to keep everything in order," Dana replied, leaning back on the door to shut it. "That way, nothing gets lost."

"But life is a lot less interesting." Ginny's smile was thin, but it was still there. She spotted the cardboard box on the floor in the corner and bent to pick it up. Dana looked at Ginny's back as she drew her wand. It would be so easy to do it now; she wouldn't have to see Ginny's face, the momentary flash of betrayal that would give way to the blankness of the memory charm. But, no, she couldn't do it like that. She respected Ginny. What's more, she liked her. She may have abandoned the light side in their most dire time of need, but she was still Agent Jezebel, and shooting her from the front seemed the least Dana could do.

Ginny turned, box in hand, and saw Dana's wand trained at her chest. For a moment she was stunned, but then Macha's words rushed through her mind. "Their power is unnatural.... She poses no threat to you right now." Had the day come when Dana did pose a threat? The box dropped to the ground and her arm snaked out, catching Dana's wrist. Their gazes locked and held, brown to gray. Slowly, Ginny pressed Dana's arm back, bending it at the elbow, twisting it at an unnatural angle. Dana's face betrayed no pain, although it must have been nothing short of agony. Just before her arm snapped, Dana released her hold on the wand. It clattered to the tile floor and Ginny let up the pressure, but didn't release the younger woman. "What do you think you're dong?" She didn't shout, but her tone still commanded a prompt, truthful reply.

"It's policy," Dana said, repeating Catherine's words from earlier. "You need to be obliviated; you know too much."

Ginny didn't speak, break eye contact, or release Dana's arm. Dana could've fought, but didn't. She wanted Ginny to understand that she was an unwilling participant in this exercise of division protocol. "I'm under orders. It's not as though I have a choice here. I don't expect you to understand."

"Don't jump to conclusions," muttered Ginny, feeling that Catherine had betrayed her trust, inviting her back to retrieve her box and then saddling Dana with this repulsive task. "I understand better than you think."

Dana was too wrapped up in the play of emotions through Ginny's eyes to catch her words.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"Forget it," she sighed, realizing that arguing with Dana would do nothing to change the situation. She'd only be wasting her breath. "Just forget I said anything."

Dana's eyes widened and she stared at her friend with a new intensity. "What?" She was swamped with a nearly overwhelming sense of déjà vu; there was something she should remember...once again it was there in her mind, but she couldn't quite reach it. It was important, a clue to the puzzle, a very important piece...and then it was gone.

Ginny remembered the day she'd told Dana her secret, then obliviated her. Her words just now had stirred Dana's blocked-off memory of that Christmas evening. Well, she had once erased Dana's memory; it was only fair that Dana get to perform the same spell on her. What goes around comes around -- it was one of her mother's favorite phrases. And, anyway, Otherworldly power or no, Ginny knew there was no way that Dana would cast a charm strong enough to actually have any effect. Dana had no reason to believe that a regular-strength spell wouldn't work, and if Ginny could play obliviated for a few minutes, she could still walk away from the situation with her memory intact.

Ginny released her hold on Dana's arm. The younger woman sucked in a breath as her nerves screamed with relief at the sudden loss of pressure, but she maintained control and bent to pick her wand up from the floor. "You'll let me do the spell?"

Ginny gave a wry smile. "Is there any way I'm walking out of here otherwise?"

"No," Dana answered honestly. Under no circumstances would Catherine allow her to leave the Division without having her memory erased, even if she needed every auror in the vicinity to hold Ginny down. Ginny's pride required that it be done this way, in private, by someone she knew and trusted. Dana could certainly understand that.

"Where should I stand? Against the wall?"

Dana gave a small laugh. "It's not a firing squad, Gin. It's just a little memory charm. You won't feel a thing."

"And even if I do, I won't remember it after."

"No," Dana said quietly, "you won't." And, with that, she pointed her wand at the auror she respected above any other, this young woman with whom she'd always felt a kind of mysterious connection. "Obliviate."

The memory charm slammed into Ginny's chest with enough velocity to knock her backward. She crashed onto the desk; files and stacks of paper scattered, ink bottles tumbled to the ground and shattered, and Ginny couldn't hold back a cry, more from surprise than pain, although she felt a healthy amount of both. As though in slow motion, Ginny felt the memories of her days as an Auror pull away from her consciousness into the dark places of her mind where she might never find them again. The silver fire flared inside. Ginny laced it around the retreating memories and used it to jerk them back and fasten them in place. The effort made her cry out a second time.

Dana scrambled across the room, slipped once on a stack of paper, and then looked over her desk to where Ginny lay on the other side, dazed, sprawled across the floor. "Oh my bloody god and fuck. I'm so sorry, Gin. I didn't think...I have no idea how that happened. I didn't mean..." Dana had a sudden, terrible thought. The spell had come out so hard -- how much had she erased? "Can you tell me your name?"

Ginny didn't answer. She just lay on the floor, eyes slightly unfocused, and tried to breathe. She felt like she'd been hit in the chest with a Beater's club and knew her memory had been saved by only the narrowest of margins.

Her silence terrified Dana. The Auror scooted around the desk and crouched down next to Ginny, helped her into a sitting position. "Do you know where you are? Can you tell me who I am? What's your birthday?"

"Um..." She couldn't stop gasping for breath long enough to talk.

Dana groaned in horror. Harry was going to kill her. "Don't worry, we'll get you to St. Mungo's right away," she reassured while unbuckling her belt to get her emergency Portkey. "The mediwizards can perform memory charm reversals, I think. I hope."

Now was the time for Ginny to pull it together and play along. She pasted a look of confusion on her face. "Memory charms? What are you talking about? Dana, keep your clothes on!"

Dana's hands froze. "What did you just call me?"

"It is your name, isn't it?" Ginny was still a bit unsteady as she pulled herself to her feet. "What would you rather I call you?"

"And do you remember your name?"

"Ginny Weasley. Why? Have you forgotten it?"

"And your birthday?"

"Samhain, 1981. Why all the questions all of a sudden?"

"No reason." Dana was swamped with relief. That had been a close call if there ever was one. Privately, Ginny felt the same way.

Ginny checked her watch. "It's been nice talking to you, but Harry must be almost done with his meeting."

Dana nodded. "You can wait for him in the lobby, if you'd like."

"All right."

Ginny had the door open and was halfway into the hallway when Dana said, "Don't forget your box."

Her smile vacant, Ginny took the container from the floor where she'd dropped it. "You know, you really should clean this place up. I can't imagine how you find anything at all, when all your files are on the floor."

Dana laughed. She couldn't help it. She was so glad that the inadvertent strength of her charm hadn't caused her friend any permanent mental damage. "It's a new filing system. It's all the rage in America."

"It figures. Walk me out?"

"Absolutely."

They'd just reached the door to the waiting room when Ginny turned and faced Dana. The dazed look in her eyes had faded; she once again appeared lucid. "I'll stop by your flat later to get my clothes. I left them in your spare room."

"Of course."

"How is Mike, really?"

Dana sighed. "About how you'd expect."

"That bad?"

Dana nodded.

There was an uncomfortable beat, and then Ginny cleared her throat. "I'll see you this evening then. I'm going up to Hogwarts to see Ron, so I'll come by after."

"Hogsmeade has a huge Imbolc festival. You'll have to take a look."

"I'd been planning on it."

"Let me know how it is, then. Dee and I were born on Beltaine, you know. I have a soft spot for calendar feasts."

"I'll just bet you do," Ginny replied under her breath.

Dana talked on, "I've been meaning to go to the Hogsmeade Imbolc celebration since I left school, but I've always had to work. This year isn't any different."

"You'll get all the details tonight."

Another uncomfortable beat, and then Dana said, "I have to get back to work."

Ginny smiled as Dana turned and left with a mumbled goodbye. Good. Let her be uncomfortable. It served Dana right for that lethal memory charm. What had she been thinking? Any normal person would've had her entire brain wiped clean by a spell that strong. Or did it have something to do with the sacrifice last night, and that Otherworldly power that Dana carried with her? The balance had been upset...she poses no threat to you now. But she will someday. The words had been implicit in Macha's statement.

By the time Harry appeared, Ginny had worked herself up to a state of grave anxiety. The sooner they left for Hogwarts, the sooner she could get to the Otherworld and demand an explanation from MórrÃ-gan.

* * * * *

Delia paced in the hall for a minute then, before she could change her mind, pushed the door open and strode inside. Draco glanced up from his pile of scrolls. "This is my private study. What part of private don't you understand?"

She shut the door behind her and stood in front of the desk, hands on her hips. "You owe me an explanation."

He held her eyes for a moment, then looked back down at his work. "I'm busy."

"You'll make time for this."

"If you want to talk to me, you can make an appointment just like everyone else, or you can wait until tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow? Why? What are you doing tonight that's so important?" There weren't any Death Eater activities planned for that night, and Draco wasn't the type to go to the pub with his mates, if he had any mates besides Blaise. Delia didn't remember the last time he had an evening out, but she thought it had probably been the Beltaine ball. And even that had been purely business.

"It's my birthday." He affixed his seal to the bottom of a document and moved on to the next one. "My mother has arranged a celebration. It would be bad form for me to miss."

Delia shook her head. "That's not good enough." When Draco continued to ignore her, she leaned over the desk and slammed her hands down on his document, spreading her fingers wide to keep him from reading.

Draco's face was a study in irritation when he raised his eyes to hers. "Believe it or not, the Death Eaters are not a social club. Being second-in-command is time consuming work, especially with the Germans showing up this evening. I have things to do."

"You left without saying goodbye."

His irritation changed to disbelief. "I beg your pardon?"

"After a night like last night, you just don't leave without saying goodbye. It's --"

"You're going to give me a lecture in manners, Silvermoon?" He leaned back in his chair and laughed. "You all but threw yourself at me. Beggars can't be choosers, they say, although I wouldn't know."

"I threw myself at you? You came to me!"

"A mistake I'm regretting more with every passing minute. If you have such a problem with me, next time I'll go to Pansy. She's always up for a bit of fun, as you pointed out yesterday."

Delia clenched her hands into fists and fought back a scream of frustration. "You could do that, Malfoy." She forced her voice to remain calm and noted with satisfaction his small grimace at her use of his last name. "But would she give you what you need?"

He pasted a smirk on his face. Some strange, self-destructive impulse made him say, "I've always been pleased with her performance."

Delia's voice dripped with derision. "I'm not talking about sex. I'm saying, if you ever show up at Pansy's room in the same state you came to mine last night, what would she do?"

He didn't know the answer to that question, but he knew what Pansy wouldn't do. She wouldn't put his demons to rest with devoted reassurance and unflagging confidence in his abilities, as Delia had. "All right," Draco allowed, "next time I'll wake you up to say goodbye."

If Delia was surprised as his sudden capitulation, she didn't show it. Instead, she raised an eyebrow and said coolly, "Next time?"

"Tonight after my party? I'll have been putting a good face on the Pendragon matter for hours." His nerves would be shot by the end of the night. He knew it, as did she. The stakes were higher than ever before, and the stress was taking its toll on him.

Delia met his eyes straight on. "Actually, I have plans tonight."

"With whom?"

"That's none of your business." She couldn't tell him she was meeting her Auror sister.

"Oh." The syllable was expressionless, giving nothing away, betraying none of his thoughts. His mask was firmly in place.

"I just came here today to --"

"Lecture me."

"Instruct you."

"So when you said yesterday that you'd do whatever you can, whatever I need, you meant only when it's convenient for you?"

"What are you talking about?" Delia didn't remember her exact words from the evening before. Things had happened so quickly; it was all a blur.

"I'm talking about tonight." His voice was quiet but firm, his eyes intent on hers.

Delia sighed. "Tonight then. I'll be in my rooms after your party if you want to talk."

Draco's posture relaxed with something that might have been relief. He rubbed his eyes, exhausted. "I daresay I'll take you up on that."

Delia laughed. She couldn't help it. He was acting like she had just freely offered to see him, rather than having been manipulated into it.

"In a little over three hours, this house is going to be full of supporters of Grindelwald and their descendents. You'll excuse me if I don't see the humor." His relief was gone, replaced by simmering anger.

Delia shook her head, still laughing, and Draco stood, his expression thunderous. "What the hell is so goddamned funny? Don't you take anything seriously? Do you understand what, exactly, is at stake here? Because if you don't, I'll be happy to tell you. If the Germans --"

"I get it, Draco. The Germans aren't funny, not at all. You, however...do you ever listen to yourself?"

He blinked, confused. "Listen to myself? I'm not sure I follow."

Delia smiled. "We can discuss it tonight, if you like. I'll leave you to your work, okay?"

He sank back into his chair and looked up at her. "Tonight then."

She gave a reassuring nod, then left his alone with his scrolls and thoughts.

* * * * *

Dana had just finished tidying her office when Catherine pulled the door open and entered without knocking. Rather than asking if Dana had obliviated Ginny as instructed, the division head ordered, "Gather your team. You're in the field in thirty minutes."

"What? Why?" Dana didn't recall ever being sent on a mission without a thorough training and briefing first.

"Midas dreamed about the Dark Lord last night. He remembers that there was a sacrifice. Your team will do cleanup and evidence collection."

"I've never been to a sacrifice site before," Dana protested. Professor Vector had died while Dana was still in specialization training.

"Your team has the most experience of any in the Division," Catherine said. "They'll know what to do. Let Agent Saturn take the lead if you feel uncomfortable. You have thirty minutes."

"How long will we be out there, do you think?" It was already late afternoon.

Catherine arched an eyebrow. "Why? Do you have something better to do?"

Dana remained silent. She couldn't very well say that she was meeting her Death Eater sister. Catherine looked at her watch. "Twenty-nine minutes, Nimue. Get moving."

* * * * *

Ginny folded her arms across her chest as the spiral staircase wound up to the Headmaster's office. "Do you think Dana's memory charm came out with so much force because of whatever happened last night?" Harry asked.

Ginny said, "I don't know. It's possible." It was probable, in actual fact, and she fully intended to ask MórrÃ-gan later.

"We should --" But before Harry could tell her what they should do, they reached the top of the stairs and the door swung open.

"Harry," the Headmaster said from inside. "I received your owl this morning. Catherine Connor tells me there's been another sacrifice. Are you --" Just then, Ginny walked into the room and Dumbledore stopped mid-sentence. She hadn't been in his office since the day after the Dementor attack and hadn't had any contact with him at all since she left school. "Hello, Ginny. This is a pleasant surprise."

"Dumbledore." It might have been a curt greeting, bordering on rude, but at least she was speaking to him.

The Headmaster motioned to a small settee, and Harry and Ginny sat. Dumbledore took an armchair across from them, then conjured a pot of tea and three cups. "What can you tell me?"

"Not much," said Harry. "The dreams are always hard to remember. But this sacrifice was different from the others."

"How?"

"I can't describe it." Harry was quiet for a moment as he searched for words. "The feeling was different. I don't know how to explain."

"Ginny?" Dumbledore turned to her, his tone gentle. "Is there anything you can tell me?"

"No." There was a moment of silence, then Ginny realized Dumbledore and Harry both waited for her to elaborate. She said, "I don't remember much about it either. But there was something different, Harry's right. The magic was much more powerful. The balance..."

"Yes?" Dumbledore prompted.

"It's thrown off. I can feel it."

"Voldemort is meddling with forces beyond his control," the Headmaster said.

"Or forces beyond his control are meddling with him, which seems much more likely, all things considered," Ginny corrected.

Dumbledore looked taken aback. "I beg your pardon?" Even Harry was surprised.

"There's so much more to this than the dark side against the light side," Ginny said, impatient at their shortsightedness. "This is how it's playing out here, but the Otherworld is in conflict too. MórrÃ-gan and Macha --" She stopped the moment the goddesses' names left her mouth. She had no business discussing them here. It wasn't her place to tell the Headmaster about the Otherworld without MórrÃ-gan's express permission.

She could see in Dumbledore's eyes that he understood. "Very well," he said. "Is there a way for us to discover what's going on? The threat is snowballing; we need to stop it before it grows too large to combat."

Harry shook his head. "Severus Snape is the highest placed mole we have. If he doesn't know, there's no way to find out. Maybe there's a spell or some kind of potion..."

Ginny said, "Tonight is the Imbolc festival. I'll go to the Otherworld and see what information I can get from the goddess."

Harry turned to her. "I'm not sure I like you going there on your own, if they're in conflict like you say."

She rolled her eyes. Your concern comes a little late. I'm there at least once a week.

Are you serious? he asked. Is it safe?

No, she replied, but I still go. For reasons I haven't figured out, MórrÃ-gan is very concerned with keeping me alive. You don't need to worry.

Dumbledore cleared his throat to interrupt their conversation. There were some things he had wanted, needed, to say. She was finally in his office. She'd taken the first step to reconciliation. He would take the second. He owed it to her to meet her halfway. "Ginny," he said, "I was sorry to hear about Shannon's death. I remember her from her days at Hogwarts, and I want to express my condolences to you, as well as to Gwen and Ria."

"I'll bet you do," Ginny muttered.

Harry groaned. And they'd been doing so well...

Dumbledore hesitated at her sarcasm, then pressed on. "And I wanted to tell you that I understand why you left the Division. I want to make sure you know that I'm sorry for pushing you into being an auror, that it was probably the hardest thing I've ever done. I didn't like it any better than you did, but it was the only way for me to actively involve you in the fight of the light side. You needed to learn what the training taught. But you were hurt, and it was not your choice, and I'm sorry for that."

Ginny's mouth fell open in surprise, and then she shut it with a snap. "You're sorry?"

He nodded. "I hope we can move beyond our past. It's important that we can have a good working relationship, because --"

"I'll accept your apology --"

"You will?" Dumbledore interrupted.

"When you can give back the five years of my life stolen by you and your cause. When you give my best friend back. And not a minute before."

"Ginny," Dumbledore said patiently, "you have to look to the future and be ready to face what lies ahead."

"Or else I'm -- What was it you called me when I said I didn't want to join the division? -- selfish and self-centered, I believe were your words."

Harry looked back and forth as though he were a spectator at a tennis match.

Dumbledore said, "I just wanted you to know --"

"That you're very sorry for making me an Auror. I don't have to listen to this shit. Harry, come find me when you're done." And, with that, she left. The door slammed shut behind her.

"Give her time," Harry said as he refilled the old man's teacup. "Shannon's only been dead a week. Everything is still too fresh. Once she's a little more removed from the situation..."

"She was an angry girl who's grown into an angry woman," Dumbledore sighed. "Of all the Weasleys who could've received that diary, why did Lucius Malfoy have to choose the one with such an important destiny?"

"Because Percy would've put lecture notes in it," Harry guessed.

Dumbledore smiled at the weak joke, but his eyes were still troubled. "You'll let me know what she learns in the Otherworld tonight?"

"Of course," Harry replied. "I'm still an Auror. You know where I stand. I'm behind you as much as I can be." He drained the last of his cup and stood. "I'd better find her."

"Check the Arithmancy classroom" the Headmaster suggested.

* * * * *

As Dumbledore predicted, Harry found Ginny in the Arithmancy classroom, sitting in an empty desk chatting with Hermione. She seemed troubled, but Hermione hadn't asked why and Ginny hadn't volunteered any information.

Harry knocked on the open door as he walked in. Both young women looked up and smiled. He gave Hermione a brotherly hug, then slid into the desk next to Ginny and threaded his fingers through hers. Hermione raised her eyebrows and Harry gave a very small nod. Just enough to tell her...as his meaning dawned, Hermione's grin intensified and she said, "This calls for a celebration."

Ginny, who was still thinking of Dumbledore, frowned. "What does?"

"Imbolc," Harry said. He brushed his lips across her knuckles and smiled. "Do you and Ron want to go to the festival tonight, 'Mione?"

"We'd been planning on it. I really should stay to grade the fifth years' homework, but..."

"You work too hard," Ron said from the doorway. He kissed his wife hello and then turned to his best friend. "Hi, Harry, Gin." When he moved closer to give his sister a hug, Ron spotted Harry's hand entwined with Ginny's. His freckly face broke into a grin. Harry laughed and Ron said, "It's about time, you two." He leaned down and whispered to Ginny, "You couldn't have waited another week? Now I owe Fred five Galleons."

"You...what?" she gasped.

Ron ruffled his sister's hair, then reached his arm around Hermione's waist and anchored her to his side. "Are you two going to eat in the Great Hall?" he asked. "Dobby told me that the elves are making a special meal for Imbolc eve."

"No," Ginny said. Sitting at the high table with Dumbledore would push her beyond all mental endurance, and she needed to save her strength for the Otherworld.

Harry understood. "We'll eat at The Three Broomsticks and then meet you in front of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, all right?"

"We'll be there," Ron promised. He kissed Hermione's cheek and said, "Even this one is taking a night off, workaholic that she is."

This'll give you enough time to get to the Otherworld before they show up, Harry said.

Good idea, Ginny replied. We'd better go then. It's already getting dark.

* * * * *

Dana had been wandering around these woods for half an hour, searching for the sacrifice site. Her feet were all but frozen, and her team members didn't look much better. Still, with a stubbornness that would've been more at home in a Gryffindor, she pressed on, didn't allow them any rests, didn't suggest they go back to the Division and try again in the morning. Ginny never had trouble finding the toxic magic and neutralizing it, and Dana was determined to show that she could do this job just as well as her predecessor had. She wasn't aiming to do the job better; for all of her Slytherin ambition, Dana was a practical person and knew that surpassing Ginny's skill as an Auror would be impossible.

Inspiration hit her out of the blue. She had an edge that Ginny didn't -- her Old Magic. Dana pulled on her small silver spark, fanned it until it grew into a small flame, then used it to extend her perception. She searched through the woods until she hit a wall of magic that shouldn't have been there. Dana pushed inside, and was instantly sorry that she had.

The black magic pulled on her power; it jumped to life and jerked her mind inside, dragged her to the place where that dark ritual had been performed the night before...the twilight woods melted away as a series of pictures flashed before her eyes.

A woman, fierce and tall, with long red hair, driving a sword into Ginny Weasley's chest, tearing Ginny's blue ballgown, a mortal blow.

Creatures, dark and twisted, inching across an open plain and falling upon an army of beautiful, ethereal warriors. On one side of the field was the woman who'd stabbed Ginny; on the other, one who bore an astonishing resemblance to the first, but for her face which was twisted with malice.

Voldemort, holding his hand aloft. A black ring on his fourth finger glittered in the light and he laughed.

Ginny and Draco Malfoy, hand-in-hand in a room Dana didn't recognize, surrounded by women in gauzy white gowns and crescent moons tattooed on their foreheads. They looked at each other, wide-eyed, then Draco leaned down and whispered in Ginny's ear. Whatever he said caused a slight smile to flit across her face.

Next, Dana saw herself, with her twin, both of them sweaty, disheveled, and bleeding, as though after a fight. Behind the Dana of the vision, positioned just outside of her line of sight, stood Harry, his wand drawn and aimed at her back. Then, he fired.

The visions came faster now --

Ginny and Draco screaming.

Ginny pulling Harry into a passionate kiss.

Harry and Draco pulling their wands on each other.

Mike looking at Dana from across a room, then turning and leaving without a word.

Draco tackling Ginny. She crashed face first into the ground, and he landed on top of her.

Harry catching Ginny just as she was about to fall.

Delia looking into a mirror with Ginny standing behind her. Suddenly, Delia turned and swung, a blow that Ginny ducked with no trouble. Ginny spoke, an insolent smile on her face, and Delia's expression creased in rage.

Draco, Harry, and Ginny standing in a forest, talking to a centaur.

And then, the beautiful red-haired woman with the twisted, malicious look in her eyes. She looked straight out at Dana, extended her hand, and whispered, "Mine."

The woods snapped back into focus. Dana looked around, dazed, and realized that she hadn't fallen behind the group. These sights had all passed in a moment, the mere blink of an eye. "This way," she called to her team. She followed where her power led, and they trailed behind.

A vision experience like this couldn't pass undiscussed. There was only one person in the world with whom Dana could talk about something of so much importance. It was a good thing she was meeting Dee tonight.

* * * * *

Draco looked at his watch. Gods, but he was bored. These people barely spoke English. Voldemort had paraded them through the dungeons so they could admire how many Aurors were being held prisoner, and then past a special cell, set apart from the rest, where Stella Screwtape had cowered and sobbed for most of the night. Hardly Pendragon behavior. He might not have known Ginny Weasley very well from school, but he thought it was a fair guess that she'd never beg for mercy. Not for herself, at any rate. How anyone could think there was a chance that sniveling mess could be the Otherworldly warrior was beyond him. Although by this time he was fully aware of the color of her blood, Voldemort kept up the Screwtape-as-Pendragon charade for the Germans. However, Ginny Weasley was the one they were looking for. At this point, all the Death Eaters knew it. It was a race to see who could get to her first -- Draco or the Dark Lord. A race Voldemort didn't know he was running.

Draco had Mark watching Potter's apartment, Eliot at the Ministry, Pansy at Diagon Alley, and Neil at Hogsmeade. They'd find her. He just hoped it would be sooner rather than later. Everyone in his faction was prepared to evacuate the Manor at a moment's notice. They'd been on high alert ever since Screwtape bled red and Voldemort had declared Ginny to be the one he needed.

Draco was tired of his birthday party. He couldn't fully enjoy himself; the stress was too much. He was keyed up and nervous. Something to take his mind off of their situation, even for a few hours, would be more than welcome. Blaise could handle any problems that might come up. Draco just needed a distraction.

All but a very few of the British Wizards had retired, pleading exhaustion, leaving him alone with the foreigners. Draco didn't speak German. They all talked amongst themselves, and had all but forgotten his presence. He looked at his watch again. He had at least three hours before Delia came back from her date...or whatever it was she was doing. Privately, he thought she'd made it up to keep him from taking her for granted. He might as well put that time to good use. He still had a mountain of paperwork to do.

Draco indicated that he was going to take his leave, and said the one phrase he'd managed to pick up. "Auf Wiedersehen."

A chorus of voices rang back to him. He supposed they were telling him to have a good night, or to sleep well, or other such pleasantries. He nodded and smiled, shook a few hands, then escaped to the sanctuary of his study and tried not to think about Ginny Weasley, to wonder where she was right now, and if Voldemort had found her first.

* * * * *

Ginny stood in front of the oak tree that grew on the banks of the lake. Harry asked, "You're sure this'll work?"

She nodded. "It's how I got there on my birthday during sixth year."

"I remember," he said. "You came back soaking wet. I was worried out of my mind."

"MórrÃ-gan dropped me in the lake."

She paced around the tree, and Harry eyed it skeptically. "How did you do it then, exactly?"

"I just...sort of hugged it, I guess."

"It's not technically the calendar feast until tomorrow, though. Do you think it'll still work?"

Ginny shrugged. "Do you think things like that matter to the MórrÃ-gan? If she wants me in the Otherworld, she'll get me there, natural laws be damned. It's one of the perks of being a goddess."

"I guess." He didn't think he'd ever get over her casual mentions of the MórrÃ-gna deities. To most people, the goddesses were remote and invisible, watching over wizardkind from afar. For Ginny, though, they were people she knew on a personal level. It was an unsettling reminder that Ginny was different from everyone else. She was the bridge to the Otherworld, a place where only she could go, and he couldn't follow.

She wound her arms around his neck and drew him down into a long kiss. "I'll be back soon," she whispered against his mouth. "I love you."

"I love you too," he murmured.

She smiled, kissed him once more, then stepped out of his embrace. She reached for the tree, and vanished the moment her fingers touched the bark. Harry couldn't hold back a shout of surprise. His end of the link stretched out, and was blocked by darkness. She was nowhere in this world. Now there was nothing to do but wait.

* * * * *

The moment Ginny landed, MórrÃ-gan's hand closed around her upper arm with enough force to cut off circulation. She tried to pull away, but the goddess held her. "It's nice to see you too," Ginny said.

In response, the goddess backhanded Ginny across the face. Ginny's head snapped to the side and she sucked in a sharp breath at the explosion of pain. She raised her free hand to her cheek; her fingers came away smeared with silver. One of MórrÃ-gan's rings had cut her skin. "That was uncalled for."

"This is not a game, Virginia," the goddess snarled. "Last night, the stakes were raised higher than ever before and what were you doing? Instead of guarding the balance, you were copulating with your protector."

"It wasn't like that. You know it wasn't. How was I supposed to know what Voldemort -" The goddess swung a second time, and Ginny just managed to duck the blow. She wrenched herself out of MórrÃ-gan's grasp and stumbled back a few steps, putting herself out of reach.

MórrÃ-gan's face contorted with rage. "You would've known if you'd found your other protector as I told you to do nearly six years ago. What in my name have you been doing all this time?"

"Well, I've been an Auror..." Ginny began, but it sounded weak even to herself.

"Your destiny is not something to be trifled with, Virginia. Things will not fall into place just because the Universe has decreed them so. Destiny is potential, that is all. But if you don't fulfill your potential, if you don't do the things that you're meant to do, when you're meant to do them, then the opportunity is lost forever and will not be presented a second time. Why haven't you found your other protector?"

The only answer Ginny could think of was, "Dumbledore told me not to."

"And you fly against my orders because the old man told you to? I am the MórrÃ-gan, Virginia. I'm not your friend, or your Professor, or your team leader. I am the Phantom Queen and I will not be disregarded." With each word, MórrÃ-gan seemed to grow, become more terrible. Her hair blew about her, sparked and crackled with power. She was too bright, too awesome to look at. Ginny lowered her eyes. When she raised them again, the goddess was again back to her usual self.

Ginny asked, "What's going on? What happened to the balance? Could it really have been prevented?"

"No one ever tells what could have been, Virginia. Not even I know that."

They faced each other in silence for a moment, then Ginny asked, "What now?"

"You refused to find your protector on your own, so I will give you a push in the right direction. A bit of help."

"Thank you."

MórrÃ-gan's mouth twisted with sadistic anticipation. "Don't thank me yet, Virginia. Perhaps this will make you understand; if I tell you to do something, I will be obeyed." She trailed her hand over Ginny's cheek, a butterfly-light caress that healed the silver cut.

The look in the goddess's eyes made her nervous. "What are you going to do?"

"Goodbye, Virginia. It will be a while before you see me again. Remember, above all else, to trust yourself."

The ground crumbled under Ginny's feet and she dropped through the earth. In the blink of an eye, she was near the ceiling of a richly paneled room. Ginny crashed face-first to the thick carpet. She groaned at the impact. A flurry of voices swirled around her in a language that wasn't English. Ginny rolled over to face the ceiling and saw two dozen men standing in a circle, bending over her, astonishment plain on every face. Her shirt bunched up around her waist; she realized too late that her tattoo was plain for all to see.

Another round of talk; it sounded like German. Ginny could only pick out one word, repeated over and over. Jezebel. Then came some nasty laughter, and another word she knew. Crucio.

Ginny clenched her teeth together and fought back a scream.