Our Winter

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Chapter 10: That Thing In the Forest

"He knew the things that were and the things that would be and the things that had been before." -- Homer, The Iliad

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~

"Sorry," Ezra said quietly. "You're busy."

Ginny put down her diary and the quill she'd been hastily scribbling with. "It's all right," she replied softly. "I've finished. I wasn't getting much of anywhere with it, anyway."

"I'm so sorry," Ezra whispered. "I didn't know . . . I swear I didn't know that you were in love with him."

"I know," Ginny said honestly.

"I never want to hurt you," Ezra continued. "You were my first friend here."

"You were my first friend, full stop," Ginny noted sadly.

"Gin," Ezra whispered.

"We're running away together," Ginny announced suddenly. The words sounded strange coming out of her mouth. "We're leaving tonight," she added, making it seem more real.

Ezra opened and closed her mouth, looking surprised. "How very Romeo and Juliet of you," she said at last.

"Who?" Ginny asked.

"Nothing," Ezra said with a dismissive wave. "Doesn't matter. Just hope you don't end up like them."

"You don't seem upset," Ginny said carefully.

"Upset?" Ezra asked, sounding puzzled. "Gin, if you're serious, I'm on cloud nine. I'm over the rainbow. I'm fucking free."

"Glad you're keeping a stiff upper lip," Ginny said dryly.

"Either that, or my father will find someone even more loathsome than the Troll for me," Ezra said to herself.

"He's not loathsome," Ginny said hotly. "And he isn't a troll at all!"

"God, you really do have it bad, don't you?" Ezra noted.

"I'm leaving everything for him," Ginny said simply. "Just to be with him."

"Good luck," Ezra said softly. "I really mean it. If you're stupid enough to think this is going to work, you'll need all the luck you can get."

"Thanks," Ginny whispered. "I think."

"Just be careful, huh?" Ezra asked.

Nodding, Ginny stood up and embraced her friend tightly. This might, after all, be the last time they would see each other.

"Be happy, Ezra," Ginny pleaded.

"Don't worry about me," Ezra said, pulling away with a cocky grin. "And don't look so worried about yourself, either. You'll run away with him or you won't. Either way, it'll all turn out right in the end, you know?"

"Yeah," Ginny said, trying to convince herself.

"So," Ezra said, glancing around the room, "what are you packing?"

Ginny groaned.

~

The night air was bitterly cold as Ginny shouldered her way out of the one of the castle's massive doors. On her back, she carried everything she owned, fit snugly into her Lottie Blaggers Ever Expanding Book Bag, a birthday gift from Fred and George. It was dreadfully heavy, but it meant she now possessed every sweater her mum had ever knit, even the ones that didn't fit anymore.

Swearing under her breath at the weight, Ginny pulled out her wand, muttered "Wingardium Leviosa Infinite," and breathed a sigh of relief as the book bag hovered centimeters from her back.

Following the familiar path toward the lake, Ginny cast her head down to avoid the sharp, stinging cold, rubbing her hands together, wishing she hadn't packed her gloves. She stared at her feet, each step taking her further away from everything she had ever known. Each step also took her closer to Draco and everything exciting she had always dreamed of.

It was awfully romantic, she finally concluded, running away with a dangerous man her family would never approve of, living only for each other. It was the sort of story books were written about. Perhaps someday she would write a Memoir, My Life With a Malfoy or How His Father Tried To Kill Me . . .

Maybe she wouldn't think about books anymore.

After a few more minutes of trudging, she came to the realization that she should be at the lake by now. Forcing her head up, she was surprised to feel the wind had lessened. Glancing around, she saw why -- she was on the edges of the Forbidden Forest, and the trees were shielding her.

Strange, she thought, turning and walking toward the castle's light, just barely visible beyond the line of trees.

She hadn't left the path to the lake, and that path went nowhere near the Forbidden Forest. At least, she hadn't thought so.

A branch broke beside her, and she heard the cry of an animal. Ginny spun around, but saw nothing. Turning back again, she found that she was even deeper inside the forest. She spun around a few times, trying desperately to locate the lights from the castle, but there was nothing but darkness.

Pulling out her wand, Ginny murmured "Lumos" to no effect. Smacking the tip of her wand against her palm a few times, Ginny tried again. Nothing. If a simple spell like Lumos won't work, she thought, I doubt that homing spell I've been working on will do much, either.

Still, she decided to try. She flicked her wrist, but as she was about to murmur the incantation--

--She found that her hand was empty, her wand vanished.

Ginny stared at her empty hand for a moment, then opened her mouth and screamed for help. Someone had to hear her, surely, Hagrid, who lived so close to the forest, or even Filch who was always prowling around with his horrid cat . . .

There was another rustling sound, followed by what Ginny thought might be a growl. Deciding that screaming (and thereby alerting anything listening to her presence) might not be the best idea, after all, Ginny took off at a run, figuring that, eventually, she would have to come out on one side of the forest.

Tree branches reached out and clawed at her as she ran, leaving telltale scratches on her hands, the sides of her cheeks. After a few moments, it felt as though she'd been running forever, and she had to stop, breathing heavily. She decided that, if she ever got out of this forest, she would start being more active so that she could run more than five minutes at a time without feeling like she was about to die.

Just as she was about to straighten up, a hand touched her shoulder, and she screamed, turning quickly--

--to find Draco standing before her.

Letting out a tiny sob of relief, Ginny threw her arms around his neck. His arms went around her back and he murmured softly into her ear, shushing her.

"Oh, God, I was so scared," she cried. "I don't know what's going on, but we've got to get out of here, something strange is going on, Hermione told me earlier that things were going to happen, but I don't--"

Draco stepped away from her, forcing her arms to drop from around his neck. There was just enough light from the full moon above for her to see his features up close, and she let out a gasp. His mouth was twisted into a sneer the likes of which she hadn't seen since he was a child, and there was a cruel, hateful gleam in his eyes.

"Stop your caterwauling," he ordered harshly. "The screeching's about to make me go deaf."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I'm just scared--"

"Yes, you're always scared about something, aren't you?" he continued nastily.

"I don't know what you mean," she said, sniffing back a sob.

"Of course you don't," he barked out, nearly laughing. "You're such a naïve, stupid girl. You're not worth it though, are you, Ginny? You're not worth giving everything up for, you're not worth anything."

"How can you say that to me?" she yelled. "You . . . You were the one who wanted to run away--"

"Just give it up, all right?" he said coldly. "You don't exist to me. You're nothing to me, you're invisible. Got it?"

"You're lying!" she screamed, shoving at his chest. "Why are you lying? You can't mean this, you love me, I know that you do!"

Does he? a small, traitorous voice whispered in the back of her mind. Did he ever, or were you nothing more than a distraction?

"This isn't real," she whispered, and as she went to shove at his chest again, her palm hit nothing but air. Blinking, she stepped back from where he'd been standing, wondering if she was losing her mind.

Once again, she took flight, running as hard and as fast as she could. That hadn't been Draco, she was sure now. Something strange was going on, but it wasn't real, and all she had to do was keep her wits about her, keep reminding herself that none of it was real, and she would get out of this . . .

There! Up ahead, a faint light shone, a fire, perhaps. Hagrid sometimes liked to burn old leaves. Ginny ran toward it.

But it wasn't Hagrid at all. It was a campfire, and there were people gathered around it. Not just any people, though; Ginny recognized them.

It was her family.

Their robes were more tattered than usual, and they appeared to be roasting something over the fire; something that looked an awful lot like a snake. They were talking, and Ginny tried to speak, but her attempts to gain their attention went unnoticed.

"Went to visit Fred and George yesterday," Mrs. Weasley was saying.

"How are they?" Ron asked, and his voice seemed hopeful.

"Trying to keep good spirits," Mrs. Weasley said, but she looked weary and older than Ginny had ever seen her.

"It'll be all right, Mum," Charlie said, placing an arm around his mother.

"Yeah," Bill agreed. "You know them, they'll find a way out of it."

"They're not at summer camp, you know," Ron snapped. "They're in bloody Azkaban! They were found with Death Eaters, Bill! People found dealing with Death Eaters don't just walk out of bloody Azkaban!"

"My boys aren't Death Eaters!" Mrs. Weasley sobbed.

"Of course not, Mum," Charlie soothed, glaring at Ron. "They were just . . . doing business with the wrong sort, that's all. Trying to earn a semi-honest sickle if they could."

"Dad?" Ginny said aloud. She didn't expect them to hear her, but she had just noticed that her father wasn't sitting around the fire with everyone else.

"It'll all turn out right," Ron said finally, seeming to have calmed himself. "I got another job, something to do on weekends. We'll make do."

"The twins in Azkaban, Ginny gone God knows where . . . I can't believe I'm saying this," Mrs. Weasley said, "but I'm almost glad your father didn't live to see it."

Letting out a tiny gasp of horror, Ginny started backing away from the scene before her, her heart actually aching beneath her breast. The Order, she thought numbly. It hadn't been a sudden fancy that had struck her, wanting to join them. She'd wanted to make something of her life, to help her family out. What was happening to her? Was this the future, her family's future after she ran away? And what of she and Draco? Would he turn cruel again, leaving her with nothing after she gave everything for him?

Turning in circles again, she had wrapped her arms around her middle, trying to quell the sense of dread bubbling up inside her.

Something caught the corner of her eye and she moved toward it, almost beyond panic now. It was another fire, this time, burning brightly in the hearth of what appeared to be a hotel room. The curtains were open and bright, blinding sunshine filtered into the room, illuminating two figures on the bed, wrapped up in the covers and each other. Looking closer, Ginny saw that the woman was herself, and the man, Draco. They looked older, but more importantly, the looked happy.

Ginny watched the expression on her face, wondering if that contended, peaceful look was the one Draco saw. Her gaze ticked to Draco, and she realized that he looked exactly as he had in her dream. This, then, was what she would be giving up for her family.

She blinked, and the scene was gone, replaced by an explosion. Ginny noted the sound of it absently, every detail. It came from magic of some kind, she could feel it, feel the magic resonating in the air. Staring up at the sky, she was no longer in the forest, but now in the middle of nothing, of wide, vast emptiness, the earth scorched, the sky gray, and nothing to be seen for miles.

Another turn in place, and she stood alone at a grave, the marker reading 'Malfoy.' In the distance, she saw Draco, as though he were there, but not really present. Looking closer at the marker, she saw that it read Ezra Malfoy and she put her hand over her mouth. Then that, too, dissolved and there was a funeral with hundreds of people gathered. Ginny picked Harry and Hermione out of the crowd, holding hands, as they tried not to cry. Ron was with them, and Snape, all looking distraught and oh, God, she knew who had died this time . . .

Then, before she could process any of it, she was simply standing in the forest again, and in the distance, was Albus Dumbledore.

"Professor," Ginny gasped.

"It's quite a lot to take in," Dumbledore said kindly. "Miss Granger is the only student who's ever adapted easily to it. She seemed rather upset she had no quill to take notes."

"Notes," Ginny said slowly.

"After all," Dumbledore continued, "a glimpse of your life -- a glimpse into your heart, and your hope, and your fear -- is an incredibly appealing prospect, and one it would do to retain memory of."

"That was my future?" Ginny wondered.

"Perhaps," Dumbledore said. "Or perhaps it's what you fear or hope for. Perhaps those things are not mutually exclusive."

"Why?" Ginny wondered, feeling breathless.

"To prepare you," Dumbledore said kindly. "Your final year at Hogwarts is when you will make the most important decisions of your life."

Maybe even a bit sooner, Ginny thought crazily.

"There is a reason the Forbidden Forest is so named," Dumbledore explained. "It is not for the creatures that live in it, though they are most ferocious. It is the nature of the forest that earns its title. The forest knows the soul of every body that has ever entered it and, at the right time, reflects that knowledge back to each soul. The message may be a bit hard to read, but you'll figure it out one day."

"I think I already have, Professor," Ginny said softly.

Dumbledore smiled, and he reminded Ginny then of a grandfather; not her grandfather, but somebody's grandfather, kindly and gentle, smelling ever so faintly of tobacco.

"Usually," Dumbledore said after a moment, "Professor McGonagall meets the Gryffindor students after their visions, Professor Snape the Slytherins, and so on for each house head." Moving forward, he placed a hand on Ginny's shoulder. "But I have reason to believe that you, my dear, would have visions of great importance, not only to yourself, as everyone's visions are, but to the world. And we are on the cusp of a very important time."

"I saw--" Ginny began.

"Oh, my dear girl, I don't want you to tell me," Dumbledore said with a chuckle. "No, no, I don't want to know the future. If I did, there would be easier ways of learning it."

"But you don't even know what I've seen," Ginny said, tears in her eyes, "you don't know what I'm going to do about it!" You have to tell me what to do! she thought desperately.

"Ah, yes. But there is the one thing that I do know." He tapped a fingertip over her chest. "Your heart." His eyes twinkled, and he smiled gently at her. "I simply wanted to be here in person to assure you that . . . it'll all turn out right in the end." The forest did something strange then, melted into Kyle, saying the same words to her, then to Hermione, Ezra, and, finally, to Draco.

"Will it?" she whispered, asking the question again. Dumbledore's eyes seemed to twinkle more.

"It has to, doesn't it?" he commented matter-of-factly.

And then, Dumbledore disappeared, the forest melted away, and Ginny found herself back where she'd started, on the path to the lake, on her way to meet Draco. Part of her wanted to pretend it had all been a dream, or a hallucination or something, but she couldn't. It wouldn't be fair to the gift that she had been given tonight to ignore it, no matter how much she wanted to. Her vision hadn't been totally coherent, but the instinct she had was clear as glass.

Her heart heavier than the weight of her book bag (pre-incantation), Ginny set off toward Draco.

~

When she finally reached him, he was standing, his back to her, staring out at the water. Time was the one thing they didn't have, but Ginny thought that she could spare this much, these few precious seconds to watch him.

The moonlight was sifting through his hair and he'd forgotten to comb it again. Draco never forgot to comb his hair, and her stomach flipped over. Only love could make a boy as vain as Draco forget to spend his requisite half-hour in front of the mirror.

Walking toward him, she shrugged off her book bag, the soft thud against the ground causing him to turn toward her. He stared at her for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face. Finally, he moved, stepping just far enough into the moonlight to cast shadows against his face, giving him ample opportunity to study hers.

"So that's it, then," he said quietly, but the humorless tilt to his lips let her know that he was conscious of echoing the heartbroken words she'd spoken to him earlier that day.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, tears springing to her eyes, "I can't . . . I just can't do it. I'm so, so sorry--"

"Don't," he said, and his voice was harsh and gentle at the same time. He strode forward and gathered her against him, holding tight. "You don't have to be sorry for deciding you can't throw your life away, after all."

"But I am," she sobbed, clutching at his back. "I wanted to be impulsive and follow my heart and take all these risks, but . . . Draco, I'm sixteen years old; much too young to make a decision like this. And you! How are you to know you'd even want me five, ten years down the road?"

"I know," he murmured quietly, pulling away from her. "But I also understand."

"It's not just that," she admitted, wringing her hands together nervously. "I have a huge family that would be completely devastated if I just disappeared, especially . . ."

"Especially if they realized you'd disappeared with me," he noted sadly.

"This isn't a story," she said after a moment, trying to convince herself as much as him. "It's not Romeo and Juliet," she added, having no idea what it meant, but remembering Ezra's comparison.

"Thank God for that," he said, causing her to glance up at him in surprise. "I don't fancy dying anytime soon." He looked at her with great affection. "And I certainly don't fancy you dying anytime soon, which is exactly what would happen if my father ever found us."

"How do you know about Romeo and Juliet?" she asked.

He looked a bit sheepish. As sheepish as Draco Malfoy was capable of, that is. "Ezra -- she used to bring Muggle books around when we were children. Still does, over summer holidays. Loves Shakespeare and Douglas Adams and Judith McNaught. Goads me into reading by calling me a stupid, useless prat until I give in, just to shut her up."

The words were harsh, but as Ginny watched his face, and listened to his tone, she realized that she was getting her first glimpse of a fond Draco Malfoy childhood memory. To think, he'd actually enjoyed reading Muggle books with a girl he'd hated because of the roles they were both forced to play.

"It sounds like you might have enjoyed it a bit," Ginny said carefully.

"Rubbish," Draco declared dismissively. "Can't believe she wastes so much time reading Muggle trash. Bloody hell, I can't believe she's gotten me to waste so much time reading it."

She wondered if Draco had had such an awful childhood that the idea of having a pleasant memory from that time was incomprehensible to him, and he was unable to recognize it for what it was. Either that or he was so far in denial, so sure that he hated Ezra and she hated him and that they were going to have this horrible life together, just to spite their fathers, if nothing else . . .

"I'm not at all inconspicuous," she said after a moment, trying not to cry again. "And I'm horrible at blending in with a crowd. We wouldn't have lasted a year. So, really, it's for the best, you know?"

"Right," he agreed hollowly. "We'd have been miserable."

"No money, no legal jobs," Ginny said. "How would we have survived?"

"I've got access to my family's vault," Draco said. "I was going to cast an anti-tracking charm on all the money, then steal it. I figured we could go to Paris, or maybe even someplace tropical, buy a house, maybe even . . ." He laughed a little. "Maybe even live among Muggles. It's the last place my father would ever look for me."

"You've given this a lot of thought," Ginny said slowly.

"Not just recently, so don't go feeling bad about not going," he said. "I've . . . I've thought about leaving before, about getting away. I just . . ." He looked at her intensely. "I've just always lacked the proper incentive."

"I want to go with you," she blurted out. "All that stuff I said about being too young, it's utter rubbish. I know what I want. I may be confused about some things, but I know that I want you. It's just . . . I just came from . . . It was the strangest thing--"

"You've come from the Forbidden Forest," he said, realization dawning on his face. "That's right, it's the end of your sixth year."

"Of course," Ginny said slowly, "you would have gone through it yourself." Her brows knit together. "Why hadn't I heard about it before? Ron let something slip once, but Hermione shut him up right quick."

"They don't like us talking about it," Draco explained. "Some of us don't want to talk about it," he said dryly. "I know all I wanted was to forget what I saw."

"What did you see?" she asked curiously.

"It sent me for a loop, I'll tell you that," he muttered. "Made me reevaluate a lot of things in my life. Even made me start wondering just how hard it would be to disappear from this life forever, start over somewhere else. Dumbledore said--"

"Professor Dumbledore was there?" Ginny interrupted. "It wasn't Snape?"

"No," Draco said slowly, looking confused. "Should it have been Snape?"

"No," Ginny said quickly, "I just assumed -- you know, Snape being head of Slytherin House and all -- go on," she said firmly, shutting her mouth. So Dumbledore had been there for Draco, as he had been for Ginny, but he hadn't explained why to Draco. What did that mean?

"The summer holiday I had last year was . . . different than it had ever been before," he continued. "Even Father noticed it. Said he didn't like the disinterest I was showing in certain aspects of my future. When I got back to Hogwarts, I found that I'd lost interest in a lot of things that used to be important to me -- making Potter's life miserable, for one. Picking on his girlfriend, for another."

"Your delight in picking on my brother seems undiminished," she noted dryly.

"Yes, thank God that never gets old," Draco said cheerfully.

She found herself starting to laugh before she remembered that her heart was broken, and it was bad form to laugh when one's heart was broken. A few tears fell down her cheeks, and she did not protest as he gathered her into his arms again.

"I don't want this to be over," she whispered against the side of his neck.

"Tomorrow's Sunday," he murmured quietly. "And since I've learned absolutely everything I'm capable of for N.E.W.T.s next week, I've nothing better to do than spend it with you."

"Arrogant prig," she murmured affectionately, giving him a tearful squeeze.

"Is that a yes?"

"Promise me no hanky-panky?"

Pulling back, he raised an eyebrow at her.

She pretended to think about what she'd said. "Sorry, did I say 'no hanky-panky?' I meant promise me nothing but hanky-panky. I always get that confused."

"You're insane," he said seriously. "I can't believe I was thinking about running off with an insane person."

"Yes, you certainly dodged that one, didn't you?" Her eyes were filled with tears, but her spirit was lighter than it had been a few moments ago. He did that for her, took the guilt she felt away. She was losing him, still, they were about to be parted -- perhaps forever -- and she was fairly certain her heart was broken beyond all repair, but for the first time, she was really beginning to believe everything would work out all right. It had to.

"Shut up and come here," he ordered her, and she kissed him, though she imagined it couldn't have been a very good kiss, because the whole way through it, she couldn't quite decide if she wanted to laugh or cry.

"What time tomorrow?" she asked a moment later.

"Lunch?" he offered, sounding as though he missed her already. She sort of liked that. "Perhaps after we eat you can force me to learn about something incredibly dull."

"Good times," she agreed cheekily, stepping away from him. She picked up her book bag and started to walk away, because if she didn't do it right then, she never would.

"Gin," he called out, and she turned to face him, a few feet away. "What exactly did you see in the forest?"

"A glimpse into the future," she answered after a moment's pause. "A glimpse into my heart -- what I hope, and what I fear, and what's inevitable, no matter how hard I fight against it." Another pause, and she debated whether to ask him or not. Before, it had seemed to her that he'd been trying to avoid telling her. Nothing gambled, nothing gained . . . "What about you? What did you see, Draco?"

His face contorted from one inscrutable expression to another, and he seemed to be conducting a silent argument with himself over what, exactly, he was supposed to say. Finally, he smiled a funny, ironic little smile, and said ruefully:

"I saw you."

~