Finishing Touches

Ginny was tired. So tired, even her bones were crying for sleep. She had felt like this since arriving at Hogwarts for her sixth year; Draco's seventh and final year. The death toll had grown so high even the Muggles had noticed. Muggles, too, were dying left and right with no discernable cause that the Muggle morticians could find. Nearly all the Hufflepuffs were gone now. There were about fifteen of them still at the school. They rest were either dead or just not attending school. It seemed as though the Death Eaters had gotten braver. No longer was their main concern making the world pure; as far as Ginny could tell, they only wanted to kill everyone and everything in their way.

Bill was missing, he had been gone for several months and Percy was in St. Mungo's, in the same ward as the Longbottoms and Professor Lockhart, after being blasted to pieces by Lucius Malfoy. Fudge and several other members of the Ministry were dead, as were Professor McGonagall, Sirius, Tonks, nearly all the giants, Harry's uncle Vernon, Jack Sloper, Seamus, Cho, Hannah Abbott, Colin Creevey, Hagrid, Lavender's parents, and on and on and on and on. Because of that list, Dumbledore had made several changes to the way things at the school were structured and they now spent four days a week studying DaDa, and only one day brushing up on other subjects.

She still met Draco every night in the Potions dungeon, but lately they were asleep within thirty minutes and Snape would have to wake them up and send them back to bed. Not only was Ginny tired from lack of sleep, she was emotionally tired, mentally tired; so tired that each day was threatening to turn into a copy of the day before. Get up, try to remember to shower, dress, attempt to eat, learn hexes, cast hexes, get hexed, try to eat again, cast more hexes, cast curses, pretend to eat, study about hex and curses, kiss Draco, fall asleep. She was so tired she couldn't mourn any more. Each time they received the news of more wizards dying or going to Voldemort's side, she received it with the same enthusiasm she usually reserved for tying her shoes. She tried to feel bad, tried to make herself cry, tried to make herself get mad, but she just couldn't.

Ginny was looking forward to the Holidays though. Everyone was so exhausted that only four other people were staying at the school during Christmas; the minute the heads of the houses came around with the sign up sheet people fought to sign up. Even Harry signed up, and he had spent every single holiday at Hogwarts since he started except one, and that had only been because her father was ill.

"I need to rest," Harry announced, when Ginny questioned him.

"Are you going to your aunt's?" she asked.

He shook his head. "To the Order's house. My house I mean. Hard to get used to that."

Ginny didn't know what to say. She hadn't been back to Grimmwald Place since Sirius had died, and she certainly didn't want to.

Draco, of course, had to stay at Hogwarts, since no where else was really safe for him. It had been more than a year since he'd been to Malfoy Manor. Since Draco was staying, Ginny was too. Besides, someone had to feed Fang.

"Just three more days," she heard a voice moan from behind her.

Ginny whirled around to find Ron leaning against the wall, thick gray rings circling his eyes. "You okay?"

"No, not really."

"Come on," she linked her own freckled arm through her brother's. "Let's go practice." Every night of the week, they had to practice for at least one hour. Half a dozen of the unused classrooms had been transformed and offered them every challenge, obstacle, and even bits of advice they needed to fight against Dark Arts.

The redheads trudged slowly up several flights of stairs until they reached the room where they were to practice new curses.

When she left the classroom that evening, she was could barely stand. Neville had turned out to be amazingly good at the body binding curse, and each time her body stiffened up, she fell straight to the ground with nothing to cushion the blow.

"It's good for you," Snape growled at her, each time he undid the curse. "Death Eaters aren't going to make sure you have pillows to land on!"

Ginny thought about going to Madam Pomfrey and begging for some anti pain charms, but she was just too tired.

"Wait!" Draco's voice came from behind her. "Damn, Ginny! I've been chasing you forever!"

"Sorry," she smiled, turning to hug him. "I didn't hear you."

He leaned forward and caught his breath. As he straightened up, Ginny realized how thin he had become, and was suddenly reminded of a starving tiger. "She left."

"Who left?"

"Marsa Marvinston. She's gone."

Marsa was the only other Slytherin in the seventh year who had returned to Hogwarts. Several others had transferred to Durmstrang, some had gone into hiding, others had dead and missing family members to tend to, and a few had joined forces with Voldemort. "What?"

He nodded. "Her mother came to get her after dinner. She wouldn't say why."

Ginny chewed nervously on her fingernail, and sat down on the steps. "Did she say anything?"

Draco sat down beside her. "Just good luck."

She leaned against him. "I can't wait till Friday."

"McNair is her stepfather."

"Who?"

"NcNair. He's Marsa's stepfather. He used to be the animal executor for the Ministry. He's a Death Eater."

Ginny found herself biting on her fingernail, a habit impossibly hard to break.

"Come stay with me."

"Where?"

"Tonight. In my room."

Ginny sat up. Draco was Head Boy so he had his own room, and she seriously doubted anyone would notice, as they were all too busy with their own problems, but the thought made her nervous. "I don't know."

"Come on, Gin. It's so . . . empty in there." There was hollowness in his voice that she didn't like. A lonesome, vacant echo behind his words that frightened her. He had every reason to be miserable. His mother was in and out of St. Mungo's, his father was off somewhere, torturing and murdering Muggles and wizards who were not of pureblood, and Draco had been unofficially disowned. The night he had asked Ginny to wear his ring, was the night Mr. Malfoy had escaped Azkaban and sent several exploding Howlers to Draco which had luckily been intercepted by Dumbledore. "We don't have to . . . you know, do anything."

Ginny nodded, giving in easily. "Alright. Let me go get a few things."