My Eternal Curse

My Eternal Curse

By Mara456

Chapter Thirty-Five

The Learning Curve: Part Six - Direct Consequences

Ginny lay on her bed reading the living Potions tome in silence, while Ix Chel slept leaving Ginny and Tom to their own devices. Hearing a soft knock at the door, she got up to answer it, finding Alexis standing in the hallway with a pensive expression. Ginny invited her in, closing the door behind her, and they sat together on the sofa.

"I'm so happy you're okay," Ginny said, expressing her relief. "What made you to go up there by yourself?"

"I've been going over the idea of the gestalt," Alexis explained. "I had to be sure... I had to know what we'd be facing in there, that I could do what you need of me."

"And now that you've seen it?" Ginny inquired.

"You're right, we can't leave the ghost of that event up there," Alexis replied. "Future generations of Gryffindors shouldn't have to lose out because of this generation's actions."

"And neither should the innocent," Ginny added.

"There are very few innocents in the world these days," Alexis asserted. "But those few are worth fighting for, worth saving."

"Let's pray you're right," Ginny whispered.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Alexis asked.

"Alexis, you are my friend and I trust you with my life," Ginny avowed. "What I'm about to tell you can't be revealed to anyone else, because if it got out people could die, many people-"

"You're scaring me, Ginny," Alexis interrupted. "I swear I won't tell anyone. What is it? Has something happened?"

"More than something... Master Snape is a double agent, spying on the Dark for the Light, and, because of my new position, so am I," Ginny revealed hesitantly.

"You're joking!" Alexis scoffed, refusing to believe it.

"Would I joke about being a Death Eater in training?" Ginny replied, clearly serious. "When I agreed to the apprenticeship, I didn't understand my master's role, and back then it wasn't an issue, but things have changed now that I'm an outcast. Lord Voldemort has taken an interest in me, in my whole family. In becoming what I am, I've put the people I love at risk. I know I can fool the others, but I-I feel overwhelmed. My reintegration, the danger I'm putting you in just by telling you the truth. I don't know what to do." Ginny sighed. "I need someone to talk to, someone who understands what I'm walking into, someone to ground me. I need your help."

"You have it, what can I do?" Alexis immediately affirmed. Her friend was horrified by the news, although none of that horror made it to her features.

"Listen to me, tell me your thoughts, help me keep from going crazy," Ginny implored. "You know the role I'm struggling to fill better than I do. Just be there."

"I'll do everything I can," Alexis promised. "When did this happen? How did you find out about Snape's side project?"

"It's a long story," Ginny began. "There are parts I can't tell you-"

"I understand," Alexis stopped her. "You don't have to tell me everything. Just start from the beginning, and disclose to me what you can."

"Well, I guess it started when I went with Dumbledore, master Snape, and Harry to Diagon Alley to get my replacement wand..." Ginny began to recount. Ginny and Tom told Alexis everything they could, while leaving out the truth about Ix Chel, what had become of Ron, along with everything about the necklaces, including what they'd learned about the Gray's doomsday prophecy. Alexis took in the new information and its implications of what they could tell her with a Slytherin's pragmatism, but she knew how difficult this was for her friend to assimilate.

"How idiotic of me, we should be using heavy silencing charms at the very least!" Alexis exclaimed, suddenly alarmed. "For all we know, someone could have just heard us! Why didn't I think of taking precautions in this room before?"

"Relax, my room is now naturally shielded against all outside interference," Ginny explained. "When I was moved here after the storm I instinctively erected this Gray ward to help block the overload. Master Snape and I have checked it out. The ward's sound, nothing we don't want will intrude in here. Your Gray instinct told you this place was safe to speak freely in, and that's why you didn't consider the possibility sooner."

"You mentioned I was Gray before, does that mean that I will eventually develop powers like yours?" Alexis wondered.

"There's a potential for it, but you'll never unlock it without training," Ginny answered. "You could go your whole life without it and never have a problem."

"Can you instruct me in this form of magic?" Alexis requested.

"I would love to, but so much of what we're working on is untested," Ginny hesitated. "If it were just us, I would do it in a heartbeat, but it's not that simple. When you become awakened as master Snape and I have been, the very nature of your magic alters to accommodate. If you use the Gray within you, even once, your equilibrium will begin to shift, and we don't yet know to what end. This decision would not be yours alone, but your master's as well. When it comes down to it, this isn't whether I can teach you, but whether Professor McGonagall will permit it. If you want to learn, you must discuss the idea in depth with your master, just as I will first have to with mine."

"I'm definitely going to have to think about this for awhile, before I ask her... I said I would help, so let's get started." Her friend urged, relying on her Slytherin sense of priority in re-tailoring her previous analysis of Ginny's situation. "So far both of you are effectively portraying your current façades. Your master knows his role well. In fact, the modifications he's made to it recently are more than enhancing his image. As for you, you are right on target for one new to the game, but soon that won't be enough. If you aren't careful, the Light and Dark magic some feel off of you will be a dead giveaway. Hiding that aspect isn't going to be easy, but there's still time to take care of it with the others none the wiser."

"I've already got that option covered," she informed Alexis. "Master Snape and I have come up with an old spell that should mostly take care of it."

"Counter-spells?" Alexis inquired.

"None, knowledge of this form of shielding was lost over a thousand years ago, and no one else alive today would be able to pull it off, even if the instructions were tattooed onto them."

"Complex magics?" Alexis asked, her interest piqued.

"Try 'extinct.' Both sides have regressed to the point where they'd never understand the principles behind it, much less its application," Ginny said.

"I take it you understand these levels?" Alexis probed.

"Something of them, however, I have a lot more to learn before I reach the point I truly understand," Ginny replied.

"Many of the Dark Slytherins unaffiliated with Voldemort will remain very cautious around you, until they're sure you aren't planning to sell them out to either side," Alexis said, continuing her evaluation.

"Melinda sure seemed eager enough at Care of Magical Creatures," Ginny noted.

"Your story has caught her attention," Alexis explained. "Convincing her will go a long way toward reaching more of them. Then there's the Light Slytherins who would rather drink molten glass than bow to Dumbledore. It will be even harder to get them to trust you, particularly considering the fact that you're playing the game as deeply as you are. If we can get both these groups on our side, they'll be invaluable in the coming days, affording us a latitude that will make conning the greater Light and Dark much easier, because they tend to take many of their cues from the moderates under them. Many of the Slytherins look up to Professors Vector and Sinistra. I suspect they secretly go to those two when they get mixed up in things they'd prefer Snape wasn't informed of, considering his dubious position. Always remember that Slytherin utterly loathes Dumbledore. The insinuation that anything Slytherin is more than loosely associated with the old man will be taken as a mortal insult! As far as they're concerned, the old fool betrayed them a long time ago!"

"Why didn't master Snape tell me about this?" Tom asked aloud, using Ginny's voice.

"It could be because he's too far removed from his youth in Slytherin to realize that you aren't ready to pick this up through osmosis," Alexis speculated. "Between you and me, I don't think he really knows us anymore. Things have been shifting drastically since the Dark Lord's return. I think Professor Snape has been so wrapped up in his guise as spy, he's forgotten us. Consequently, we've banded even closer together, but that may be coming to an end, if Voldemort keeps recruiting the way he has been."

"And if that happens?" Tom asked aloud, already knowing the answer, but realizing that Ginny needed to hear it directly from her.

"Chaos," Alexis answered, gravely. "I didn't tell you this before, because I thought you were just trying to protect yourself. If you're going to do this right, there will be things that your master can't teach you, but I can help you there."

"Master Snape hasn't forgotten Slytherin, not completely," Ginny said. "I think he's afraid of making things worse if he intervenes directly, which is why he has sort of thrown that in my lap. Master Snape believes that I may be the only hope for some of the Slytherins."

"He may be right," Alexis concurred. "Our work might be the only thing that will mitigate the upcoming crisis."

"Where do you stand in the Slytherin hierarchy?" Ginny asked, unsure of why such an obvious question hadn't occurred to her before.

"As a Death Eater in training, with Dark inclinations but Light beliefs, my position has helped me make ties with the various sides in both Slytherin and Ravenclaw, though I still defer to those above me," Alexis replied. "When I turned in my parents, I lost many of my Darker contacts, but managed to retain the Lighter ones easily enough. Now that I'm master McGonagall's apprentice and conspiring with you, my standing has ascended once more. I'm considered at least Draco's equal, if not more, with all the privileges therein. Additionally, if the Dark decides that your continued friendship with me is part of a greater plot to bring me back into the fold, my old Dark contacts, along with others, will be at my doorstep again, strengthening my position."

"Her answer was in there somewhere, right?" Ginny thought. "Care to translate, Tom? I'm not as fluent in 'Slytherin speak' as I'd like to be."

Listening to this depth of intra-house politics and intrigue was making her head spin. Gryffindor was never this hard to decipher. Of course, the average member in her former house also had all the intelligence and subtly of a brick.

"Don't be dense, my little princess," Tom chided. "Alexis plays in what we called 'the fringe' back when I was in school. Judging by the confidence and strength in her tone, she's a master at it. In simpler terms, Alexis plays with both sides in the Slytherin hierarchy, and has forged her reputation on that basis. We couldn't have found a better Slytherin to assist us if we tried. Between our friendship with Alexis and our alliance with Malfoy, Slytherin doesn't stand a chance!"

"I see," Ginny said aloud. "And the Ravenclaws?"

"With the Ravenclaws, we're going to have to optimize your game plan," Alexis answered. "There are some Light students who hold allegiance to Dumbledore and the status quo, although there are a lot less than outsiders are led to believe, and even fewer have kept to that since the Gryffindors attacked you. Like you, many of them are intelligent enough to read between the lines, and see the corruption of the system for what it is. Nevertheless, they believe that starting an insurrection is the wrong way to go because the resulting conflicts would ultimately do more harm than good to our society. Their unique outside perspective in the school allows them to play both sides, while hiding their true natures. They've learned not to trust Dumbledore's hollow promises, or Voldemort's grand pronouncements. As a hidden Death Eater in training, it will take time before they're sure about where you stand. Mark and I can guide you. Speaking of that, why haven't you forgiven Mark for running off during that Chimaera incident?"

"Because he ran," Tom answered aloud. "I thought he trusted my judgement more than that."

"You'd think the Dark would have given him more of a spine," Tom mentally added.

"Not everyone can be the fearless dictator you wanted to be, Tom," Ginny thought.

"Who said anything about fearless?" Tom replied. "You and I both know that true courage has little to do with having no fear. A fact that my counterpart has apparently forgotten, the bloody fool."

"I can't afford to have him find out about the gestalt," Ginny reasoned, continuing her conversation with Alexis. "If he learns about it and doesn't have faith that I know what I'm doing, he might tell master Snape. I can't let that happen."

"Reasonable assessment," appraised Alexis. "So far you're winning over the Dark Ravenclaws pretty well. Unlike the majority, they aren't skeptical of your Gray status, and see the power you're displaying as merely an extension of that. There are rumors going around Ravenclaw and Slytherin exclusively, about Death Eater recruitment occurring in Ravenclaw, but no one's been able to find out one way or the other. Draco and I suspect that the Ravenclaw Death Eater parents are handling things differently from the Slytherins', considering that almost no one knows about them."

"The Death Eater ranks have spread to more than Slytherin?" Ginny asked.

Tom wasn't surprised by the news. He'd learned to never judge a person by their House alone. His other self would have to be a moron to exclude the other three houses from his ranks, whether or not he trusted them.

"To my knowledge, there have always been Death Eaters recruited from each of the four houses. It was just prejudice that kept the Ministry from figuring that out during the Dark Lord's last reign of terror, and again now," Alexis said, the disdain she felt for the Ministry filling her voice. "I bet Dumbledore took the liberty of 'taking care of' any Death Eaters he found from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff at the end of the war, so the other arses could feel safe, knowing that their infallible protectors were looking out for them."

"That's a comforting thought," Ginny mumbled sarcastically.

"That's probably only the tip of the iceberg," Alexis said, her pensive expression returning. "I bet if someone were to really search for skeletons in that obsolete bastard's closet, they'd be buried in them."

Ginny thought about Professor Montgomery's visit earlier and flinched.

"Were the students' opinions of me affected by what happened in Herbology?" asked Ginny, changing the subject.

"Not at all. After Draco, Snape, and the rest of us were through with spin-control, they were convinced that your over-sensitivity was simply a bad vision," Alexis assured her. "You should have seen the way Sprout acted after you were gone. They won't have any problem believing that she sincerely doesn't want you in her class again."

"That's a relief," Ginny thought.

"Sounds like the house interrelations are very delicately woven," Ginny remarked.

"That's an apt way to put it," Alexis concurred.

"Please, tell me that's as complicated as Slytherin/Ravenclaw politics gets," Ginny pleaded.

"Not by a long shot, but it's a good base explanation," Alexis said.

"I'm never going to get all of this," Ginny groaned, rubbing her temples.

"If you can comprehend advanced Arithmancy, you can comprehend this," Alexis encouraged her. "It's just a harmony of people instead of numbers. Forgive me for saying this, but you've got to stop thinking like a Gryffindor. That limited a line of thought will only hinder you in this area. Anyway, no one expects you to know how to handle this yet. Try looking at it through the eyes of a first year, and we'll take it from there."

"Nothing worthwhile is ever easy," Tom said aloud.

"Would we want it so much if it were?" Alexis asked.

"Probably not," Ginny whispered, thoughtfully.

"If you hate the Ministry and Dumbledore so much, why did you listen to me when... when you were summoned?" Ginny asked. She was as afraid of the question as she was of the answer, but she just couldn't leave the earlier discussion where they had. She now knew her Slytherin friend well enough to know that very little was ever simple with her.

"It-it's complicated," Alexis stammered, lowering her voice. "I was born just a few months after Voldemort's reign ended. My parents never had plans for me to take the Dark Mark. Even though they were rarely there I was never neglected. When they were there..." A single tear ran down her friend's cheek. Ginny rested a comforting hand on Alexis'. "I love them! Surprised, Ginny? Well, you shouldn't be. They loved me, even if they rarely showed it, and raised me as well as they could. They taught me the Dark Arts from an early age to prepare me for my future. I think they did that because they loved me and wanted me to have every advantage, not because they believed that I was destined to be someone's little minion. They ingrained their values in me, taught me to survive under any circumstance, to destroy any obstacle in my path, to defend myself against anyone. My beliefs differed from theirs, so I hid those beliefs, knowing that they would be... disappointed in me, in my decision. I figured that they would never find out, as long as I excelled in whatever I did.

"Then Lord Voldemort returned. He twisted them with threats of retribution if they didn't take their rightful place as his servants, and promises of glory if they did. They returned to him, once more fanatically devoting themselves to his cause. Mum and Dad gave him everything they had, including me. They tried to pressure me into Dark servitude, but I resisted. I saw what Voldemort had done to them, I saw them shed their humanity, saw what they were really losing in listening to him. I knew I would become just as empty, just as small, if I took the Dark Mark, and anything, even death, was preferable to that! I fought back, using all the gifts they had given me, save one.

"When time ran out, I despaired. I couldn't give myself to that madman. I couldn't destroy innocence and beauty on some lunatic's mere whim. I decided to end it, and rushed to carry it out before I changed my mind. That's when I met you. You were so determined to help, even though you didn't know what the problem was. You convinced me to use the last weapon in my arsenal, my knowledge of their illegal activities. You convinced me to do what I was trained to do, to survive no matter what. So, I went with you to the Headmaster's office, and confessed what I knew to that Gryffindor slime. The only thing worse than betraying them, was seeing the look of utter glee in Dumbledore's eyes when I sold them out, knowing that he took so much enjoyment in my family's downfall! Mum, dad... if you only knew that, when you were teaching me to safeguard myself, it would end up being from you..."

Alexis lost the rest of her composure and started crying. She gently pulled her friend into her embrace, whispering soothing words in her ear. Tom truly felt for the girl, realizing how much damage Voldemort had done to this person, who he now considered a friend. He found himself wanting to do something for her, something to ease her suffering. He tried to help Ginny comfort Alexis, knowing that he never had much aptitude for genuine compassion. They stayed that way for a long time. She sensed her friend's feelings of love and protectiveness for her intensify during this emotionally charged moment. They were emotions that she wholeheartedly returned. Ginny wondered vaguely, as they continued to comfort Alexis, if this is what having a sister felt like.

Sometime after Alexis had calmed down and pulled herself together, they heard a soft knock at the door. Ginny got up and answered it, finding two house-elves with dinner for them. They brought it in, then Ginny surprised the elves by thanking them before they left. She woke her familiar, carrying Ix Chel back to the sofa to sit with them. She noticed that her portions of food were larger. Master Snape must have already taken care of that little detail. She relaxed, once again delighting in the peace a simple meal gave her.

*~*~*

After dinner, Severus sat in his office studying the tome of Initium. He wanted to get some reading done before his first magical lesson with Argus. Thinking about the explanations of magical theorem he had given his friend in the past, he hoped that those discussions would be more of a help than a hindrance in the days ahead. He wouldn't know for sure until they got started. A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. Shutting the tome, he stood and answered the door, discovering it was Arthur and Miss Granger. He let them in, wondering what this was all about.

"What do you want, Mr. Weasley?" Severus asked.

"I would like to visit my daughter privately and I was hoping you could guard Miss Granger for the time being," Arthur requested.

"Take your time, Miss Granger is in good hands," Severus replied.

"Thank you, Professor," Arthur said. As the Auror left he turned his gaze to Miss Granger, wondering how he was going to distract the inquisitive young witch. Perhaps a tome will keep the girl from pestering him until the Auror's return, and he knew just the one. Severus briefly looked through the bookshelves, pulling out a fairly old Potions tome that she would never find in the library. That should challenge her intellect.

"Here," Severus said, handing the Gryffindor Prefect the book. The title, in faded silver lettering read 'Reverse-engineering Poisons and Medical Conditions: A Guide to Formulating Advanced Healing Draughts,' but the author's name had been worn off. "Return it to me when you're finished. I expect it back in the same condition in which I gave it to you."

"This tome is very advanced, and the examples... some of this is the Dark Arts," Miss Granger said, glancing at the content of the pages. "I've only seen books like this in the Restricted Section."

"Very astute observation, Miss Granger. In truth, you will never find this particular book in the school library, because many have deemed it too controversial. But it is one of the most comprehensive tomes I've read in this area," Severus explained, returning to his seat. "I will tell you a truth you will not hear anywhere else. To effectively counter a thing you must first know what you're up against, which in this case means understanding the Dark Arts."

"Do you mean that in order to heal and protect you have to practice destroying?" Miss Granger asked, skeptical. "Forgive me for saying this, sir, but that's ridiculous. There is a reason why that knowledge is referred to as 'Dark.' How could it possibly help Light researchers?"

"There is a difference between practicing the Dark and understanding it, although the line between the two has always been very thin," Severus corrected. "The reason medical breakthroughs in this area are so rare is because so many of the Light are incapable of making that distinction. Tell me, what makes a good Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor?"

"I don't see what that has to do with-" Miss Granger began, but was cut off by an irritated glare.

"I asked you a question and I expect an answer, Miss Granger, what makes a good Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor?" Severus repeated.

"A working knowledge of the subject, and the ability to impart that to others," Miss Granger answered.

"Correct. Have you ever wondered why so many DADA teachers have become Dark, but our dear Professor Lupin hasn't?" Severus continued. "It is because he's learned to distinguish between knowing the enemy and becoming obsessed with it. That is the aim of this form of controversial research, to instruct you in understanding the problem from an alternative perspective. Do you understand now, or are you just not as bright as I thought?"

"I understand," Miss Granger replied. "It's like working out the pathology of a parasite without being infected by it. There are limits to how far you can take the experimentation before it becomes unethical. I have never considered that... I always thought that sort of logic was merely justification to delve into things one shouldn't."

"You are capable of becoming greater than you appear to be at first glance," Severus replied, approvingly. "I have a challenge for you, a little extra credit assignment which may prove beneficial to you in the long run. Study the tome thoroughly and write me a five foot long essay on what you've learned, including how it affects your views on magic."

"Deadline?" Miss Granger asked.

"However long it takes for you to get it," Severus answered cryptically.

Miss Granger wore a puzzled expression as she nodded, then sat down and got to work. He watched her for another few moments before returning to his own research. Severus had always seen the Gryffindor as a pretentious, bossy, overachiever, with no common sense, who worshiped the ground the great Harry Potter walked on. But, like Mr. Potter, she was proving to be far different from what he expected. The only thing that overshadowed the girl's thirst for knowledge and determination to succeed in whatever she put her mind to, both of which were Ravenclaw/Slytherin drives, was her overbearingly obvious Gryffindor nature. The girl reminded him of a Slytherin who had graduated a couple of years back. Like Miss Nin in the beginning, Miss Granger's goals were still too unfocused to dedicate her energies to any one discipline. The fact that this girl wasn't completely close-minded was a sign, but the variety of her talents was useless without the thread with which to bind them. The least he could do was to help her rule out what she didn't want out of Potions, beyond that it wasn't his problem. Severus continued to focus on his reading, all but forgetting about the Gryffindor's presence.

*~*~*

Arthur knocked on the door to his child's chamber. He needed to talk with her so much, but at same time, he dreaded this conversation. Maybe that was why it had taken him till Wednesday night to try again after their first brief conversation. His daughter answered the door and smiled at him.

"Hello, dad," Ginny greeted him, surprised to see him there alone. "Come in."

He entered the room, spotting her Slytherin friend sitting on the sofa, watching him impassively. His daughter quickly introduced them properly. Watching the girls together, Arthur could see a powerful bond between them that seemed to go beyond friendship, almost as if they were sisters. He wondered what had made them become so close, so quickly, but he also knew that now was hardly the time to pry.

"I'm sorry if I'm intruding, but I need to talk to my daughter, alone," Arthur apologized.

"Of course, I was just leaving anyway," Alexis replied, standing. They said their good-byes and her Slytherin friend left. Ginny sat on the sofa next to her familiar. The snake slithered onto her lap, and she began absentmindedly stroking the snake's scales. He sat with her, once again surprised by the changes he saw. Arthur had gone over in his mind all the possible arguments, every concern and objection he thought she might have, but now that he was here, he realized how useless it was. The silence between them was becoming maddening, and yet, he couldn't break it, he couldn't find the words he needed to reassure her, to help her.

"You haven't abandoned me?" his daughter timidly asked, an edge of fear and uncertainty in her voice.

Arthur felt horrified that not only was that the first real question she'd asked him since he arrived, but that Ginny felt the need to ask him such a thing. It was heartbreaking to behold the fear he saw in her eyes. Nothing, nothing could have prepared him for that question.

"I could never abandon you, my child," Arthur responded, placing his hand on hers. "I have always loved you and I always will! Nothing - not strange powers, weird events, or a life-bond with a snake will ever change that. You are my little girl, Virginia, and it wouldn't matter if you became the Dark Lord himself, I would still love you just the same. I would still trust and believe in you, and I will do whatever it takes to convince you of that."

Ginny began to cry at her father's words, afraid to believe them. She had to read him, she had to be sure, but the prospect of rejection terrified her. Tom felt everything she did, wanting more than anything to help her through this. The fact that her father seemed so willing to try was a good sign, but Tom knew that everything has limits, even how much a loved one can take. The unconditional love Arthur was referring to was rarer than the Philosopher's stone, and even harder to forge. So difficult, that he doubted such a thing still existed in their world. They knew that the only way they could be certain was to go through her father's mind, and see it for themselves.

"I can't do this, Tom, I can't..." she thought, as Arthur wiped away her tears.

"Then we'll do it together," Tom replied. "He's practically inviting you to. You deserve the truth, my princess, you deserve to be sure."

Ginny nodded and they began to seek out the truth together, careful not to alarm Arthur. They felt his loving concern washing over them almost instantly. Her father loved her so much and would do anything to make things better. He truly believed everything he had told her, and wanted nothing more than to find a new common ground with her. He wanted to shield Ginny from all the horrors of the world, but knew, after today, how impossible that was. It was killing him to watch her go through this alone, and- Suddenly, her father sensed her presence in his mind. But instead of mentally recoiling, he relaxed, allowing her to probe freely. He really still trusted her... they were sure now, he would never turn his back on her. They stopped reading him as Ginny lost any semblance of composure, hugging him tightly as she sobbed in his arms. Ix Chel moved out of the way while her father returned the hug, comforting her. Tom was relieved that Ginny's father hadn't turned his back on her the way his own had. The type of family she had was a rare thing, something he would be able to experience only vicariously.

"I'm so sorry, daddy..." Ginny whispered.

"For what?" he asked.

"For everything... everything," Ginny answered, thinking about what the Dark Lord had in mind for her family.

"Don't be, Ginny, you have nothing to be sorry for," her father comforted her.

After a while, her tears tapered off and Ginny began feeling better. She was so glad that he was with her, but feared what might happen to him as the future unfolded.

"Do you want to talk about it?" her father suggested softly.

"Want to, no. But I need to, we both do," she resolutely responded, releasing him. Slowly she explained everything she could about her gifts in The Sight and the Gray.

"It sounds like an amazing experience," Arthur remarked.

"Oh, it is, I can't pass a window or go outside without seeing the vitality of the world around me," Ginny replied. "The simplest sights have become a wonder to me, even just sitting in here studying the tapestries could entertain me for hours."

"This... shift you've gone through, why did it happen when you lost control?" Arthur asked tentatively. "What did the magical storm do to you?"

"Before my visions started I had a normal equilibrium like everyone else," Ginny began explaining.

"Which, by normal wizarding standards, had begun to grow at a nearly dangerous, unstable rate," Tom added aloud, using Ginny voice.

"When you start using Gray magic, your equilibrium automatically shifts to accommodate," Ginny went on. "Now, using the power twice sets your equilibrium to a new level where it continues on under similar rules as normal. Unlike the more natural process, the storm set mine at a previously unheard of level, because my tissues had been saturated by Gray magic. The truth is, I'm not sure I know about everything it has done to me, no one does. I see clearer than I ever have, or could have for that matter. I don't know what to make of it all yet. I guess, it's still too soon to tell."

"What has this been doing to you emotionally?" Arthur asked. "What can I do to help?"

"You're already doing it, daddy, you're listening to me," Ginny told him. "Before the storm, everyone was afraid of me. They thought of me as some kind of freak just because of my visions. The sick part, the part that drives me crazy, is that I did everything that was expected of me. I did everything I could to be a good Gryffindor, and all my efforts were thrown back in my face. I saved Harry, I helped to defend Hogsmeade, I went to my teachers every step of the way, I tried to play the game by their rules, but it wasn't enough. What excuse did they use to hate and fear me? They used my bond with Ix Chel! They have no idea what they're talking about! Snakes aren't Dark by nature, that's just Light propaganda left over from the First Wars. And now that my true nature has been revealed, it's bound to get worse."

"What are the First Wars?" Arthur inquired.

"They were the first clashes between the sides," Ginny explained. "I've been... learning some of our past that never made it into the history books. All traces of it were erased, long ago."

"If there's nothing about it in the history books, how do you know your information is accurate?" her father pressed.

"Because I remember it," Ginny thought, knowing there was no way she could tell him that anytime soon.

"Trust me, what I've learned came from a very reliable source," Ginny declared. "Tell me, do you think the legacy of wizards and witches is only a thousand years old?"

"Everyone knows it goes back further than that," Arthur answered.

"How far?" Ginny asked.

"Fifteen hundred, two thousand years, I don't know," Arthur replied.

"My point exactly. You don't know, until now, no one has," Ginny said. "A vital piece of us has been stripped away."

"But why? And, who would want to do that?" Arthur objected.

"The Light and Dark did it to hide a terrible atrocity that was committed by both sides," Ginny answered. "They didn't want us to remember our origins, nor someday reclaim the ancient magics. This is why no one has been able to follow in the footsteps of Witches and Wizards like Morgana or Merlin. This is why each generation has a Light or Dark Lord, depending on which side is in control at the time. It's all interconnected."

Arthur chuckled nervously.

"You have some odd theories, Ginny," Arthur said uncomfortably. "Just don't let Binns catch you talking like that-"

"This it not a joke," she protested, struggling to keep her tone in check. "I'm serious, we were set up!"

"By an evil conspiracy from both sides?" he scoffed, having trouble with the concept. "They couldn't work together if they tried. I think you're making too much out of whatever you found."

"I don't believe this human!" Ix Chel exclaimed angrily. "How dare he mock our dark past! If he wasn't your father, I'd strike him."

"What did I say?" her father asked, slowly backing away from her angered familiar.

"Easy, Ix Chel, he doesn't know any better," Ginny whispered to her familiar. "People are bound to be skeptical of the truth. You can't expect everyone to take our word for it."

"But we have proof," Ix Chel mentally protested. "My lineage alone obliterates a million different misconceptions about the past."

"You know that what we have must remain a secret at all costs, Ix," Tom reminded her. "And they say I need anger management classes... If you can't learn to control your temper, it's going to get us in trouble."

"I apologize," Ix Chel said. "It's just that I still remember the beginning of that slaughter."

"I know, Ix Chel," Tom sympathized. "Listening to preconceptions about the past can be... difficult.

"What happened?" Arthur asked. "Why did it hiss like that?"

"You offended her," Ginny responded. "I suggest, if you plan to get along with Ix Chel, never refer to her as 'it.' She's a person, not an object."

"Look, I'm sorry if I upset you, either of you," Arthur apologized. "I just can't picture it."

"It's alright," Ginny sighed, realizing that most of what they knew would be hard to accept, no matter how open-minded you were. "I shouldn't expect you to..."

"Don't let him get away with that!" Tom demanded. "If he wants to find a common ground with you, than he needs to come part of the way, or you two aren't going to get anywhere."

"Dad, I know this is hard for you to accept, but everything we were taught about our origins was a lie," Ginny said. "If that fact alone is too hard for you to accept, than maybe we shouldn't talk."

"Help me understand why you're so sure," Arthur pressed, not wanting to lose what little ground they had gained. "We both know that we see things differently. I can see you believe it, but... how does someone reach this conclusion?"

"Should we tell him?" Ginny thought. "Could he handle it?"

"Do you think it would make any difference if he knew?" Tom asked.

"It could," Ginny thought. "We need him, you said so yourself, Tom. I can't just let this drop."

"I don't know, doing this could be a mistake," Ix Chel pointed out.

"Or it could make him realize just how much more aware I am now. That my whole view of the world, and its history are just as valid as his," Ginny argued. "We don't have to tell him how great your knowledge base is, just that it exists, that memories don't lie."

"Do it," Tom concurred.

"Ix Chel?" Ginny thought.

"I don't agree with you, but I won't try to stop you," Ix Chel hissed.

"...Ginny?" Arthur worried. "Are you okay?"

"Do you really want to know why I believe it, why I'm so passionate about it?" Ginny challenged. "The only other person who knows about this is master Snape. I want you to understand, but Ix Chel rightly fears that telling you will put us all in further danger. We need you to promise us that you won't tell anyone else, not even mum, what I say next."

"I promise it, I won't tell anyone else," Arthur swore, knowing that if he betrayed her confidence, for any reason, he would lose her.

"The reason I'm so passionate about this is because I remember it!" Ginny revealed. "When you take the bond with a Divinus Animus you share their memories, the race memories of her direct predecessors, and any wizards they had ever bonded with. Ix Chel's ancestors were present at the First Wars, but were hidden well before the end of those wars. It's like looking into a Pensieve from time to time; you see what took place from that person's perspective. Memories don't lie. Daddy, I'm telling you the truth."

Ginny sensed an obstacle in their path disappear and knew that her father believed them now. They continued their discussion, picking apart piece by piece, the issues of her bond with Ix Chel, the storm, and Ron. Ginny told Arthur the 'official' reason why Ron had turned on her, knowing what the real truth might do to her father. How could so much change and yet remain the same? Once more she was lying to him, not because she wanted to or because she could, but because she had to. As long as those lies protected him, she would keep doing it. He was, after all, her father.

*~*~*

Zachary rolled over, vainly trying to sleep in his darkened bedchambers. He thought that, after all that had happened today, he would have simply passed out, but for some unfathomable reason, he just couldn't sleep. The burdens of the day still weighed heavily upon him, on all of them probably. He vaguely wondered if any of them were restless as well. Leaving his bed, he put on a set of dark blue robes, along with his fluffy, blood red, lion slippers. He left his chambers, seeking to silence his insecurities. After wandering aimlessly through the castle for a time, he found himself heading up toward his classroom. He hoped that escaping the background noise would allow him to regain his center. Zach spotted light shining through the bottom of the doorway to the classroom and stopped. No one should be up here... Maybe it was Severus, feeling just as restless? No, something told him that was not the case. Silently creeping toward the door he cursed himself for forgetting his wand. Someone was inside and he was about to find out who it was.

He opened the door, and saw the last thing he expected. Five students from different houses were lounging about, not breaking the rules, just... relaxing. A Gryffindor sixth year named Annika Knight, who had attacked him earlier stood in front of the window admiring the view. A Ravenclaw sixth year boy and a Slytherin fifth year girl who he remembered from the picnic sat together studying. A Hufflepuff prefect in her seventh year, rested on a gigantic pillow set up in a corner, reading a tome from the Restricted Section, seeming to ignore the activities of the others. Lastly, Draco Malfoy was slumped over a table toward the back, fast asleep. It was an exceptionally odd gathering. The only thing he knew they held in common was that they were all new to The Sight. He walked in, shutting the door behind him. Everyone with the exception of Draco and Annika directed their attention to him.

"I'm sure all of you have a very good reason to be here," Zach began.

"We do, Professor," the Hufflepuff Prefect quickly replied. "I came up here because I couldn't sleep, we all did, and no one's done anything wrong. Please, don't punish us for being out of bed after hours!"

"We came for the silence," Annika stated softly, never taking her eyes off the view. "I know I did... The voices have been so much louder since you awakened my talent. I needed a break. I-I couldn't handle listening to my housemates' vicious thoughts and petty scheming for another minute!"

Each of them had sought the same thing he had, relief. Zach had awakened them, consequently dropping the full burden of their powers into each new Seer's lap. He knew what they were feeling, what he was forcing them to face. Most of them would've gone through their whole lives without knowing. But now that it was done, there was no going back. They were his responsibility, and if it meant that each of them required special accommodations, then they would have it.

"I understand, I came up here for similar reasons," Zach told them. "Don't worry, you're all free to stay for as long as you wish. In fact, from here on out, any person with The Sight will be free to stay here after hours without fear of punishment, for any length of time they require."

"What about Filch and the other Professors, sir?" the Ravenclaw boy voiced their concern. "If they catch us in the halls or in here, they'll want to punish us for certain."

"Leave that to me," he assured them. "I'll explain it to the staff. I won't let you get into trouble for naturally seeking out the one place hospitable to you. Just for tonight, I'll escort each of you back to your common rooms, when you're ready to leave. Take your time, I'm in no hurry."

When she's up to it, I've got to ask Virginia to set up more wards, this classroom isn't going to be enough, Zach thought. Not by far...

Zach joined the Gryffindor Seer in front of the window, gazing at the enchanting lights of Hogsmeade, in the distance. He wondered what he was creating by bringing these children together on such a perilous common ground. As they learn to gain control, will they just continue on in their lives, will they be shunned the way Virginia was, will they band together, forming a cohesive unit in order to cope, or some mixture of the three? Zach was both reassured and terrified that the only constant in that transition was him. Could he become the mentor he'd never had? He was willing to try. That by itself was a start. He glanced at Draco's sleeping form, wondering why the boy had remained up here when he saw others.

"He came to the Divination classroom first, hoping to stay a migraine he'd had all day, and fell asleep before we arrived," Annika whispered, answering his unspoken question. "I... saw it, through the memory thing you told me about. I'm sorry if I invaded your privacy, but the thought of his name drew my attention."

The Gryffindor finally looked at him, her eyes still unfocused. He guarded his thoughts more closely, reminding himself that the other Seers might hear him if he wasn't cautious.

"I'm not going to mention that Malfoy was here, if that's what you're thinking," Annika continued, her eyes slowly regaining their focus. "We're in a similar boat. Where is the honor in throwing him to the wolves? If I can spare him from some pain, from hearing his friends silently turn on him for this, I will. It would be un-Gryffindor for me not to keep quiet."

"You're a rare one if you still honestly believe that," the Slytherin girl remarked, looking up from her work. "Having second thoughts about who you've sold your soul to?"

"My house's values may be in decline, but mine are not!" Annkia snapped. "Listening to Ron was a mistake, and it's one I don't intend to make twice. As for Malfoy, no matter what the crest on his robes, I won't sell him out to the others. I won't condemn him to that!"

"Neither will I," the Slytherin girl agreed. "Draco already has enough on his plate without adding to it. What he does with his supposed gift is his problem, not mine."

The Ravenclaw boy nodded his head in assent.

"I agree," the Hufflepuff Prefect picked up. "What kind of Seers are we if we turn on one of our own? We'd be no better than Ron and his followers if we stooped to that. But also, we don't want everyone to end up under the delusion that the Seer population is working on some twisted 'master plan' with the so-called 'Dark Witch Ginny' lording over us, or something equally stupid."

"Amazing... a Hufflepuff capable of independent thought," the Ravenclaw quipped. The Prefect glared at him and the boy shot her an apologetic look. "All jokes aside, the Prefect may be onto something. What if Ginny's brother demonizes us the same way he did her?"

"At least half of the school would be after us," Annika replied.

All the students turned toward him, awaiting a reaction to their discussion.

"Aren't you going to tell us that our Professors will keep the others in line, like they did with Virginia Weasley?" the Slytherin girl asked, barely containing her disgust.

"I can't promise that your housemates won't turn on you, but I will give you this," the Divination teacher replied, understanding the possible implications of what they were discussing. "The majority of us can be trusted, and we are here to assist you in any way that we can. I am in the same boat as you are. I want to help you individually, as well as a group. Your problems are now my problems."

"Yes, that will save us when the 'moral majority' comes to slit our throats in the dead of night," the Slytherin girl said, feigning the picture of innocence perfectly, too perfectly. "Of course, they may spare us if we throw ourselves at their feet and beg for mercy. 'Oh, please, let me join your witch-hunt, brave inquisitor Ron! We'll become mindlessly obedient to your grand cause, just because you claim it's for the greater good, honest!'" The Ravenclaw held back a snicker as the Slytherin cleared her throat and continued. "Don't get me wrong, Professor, I believe you mean it, I'm just not sure it's going be enough."

"What do you think would be?" Zach asked, knowing that they needed to make this decision for themselves.

"We should work together, protect each other," the Hufflepuff purposed. "If the teachers aren't enough, then we'll just have to be. Together, we can pool our resources and support, keep each other from becoming too isolated."

"Keeping us from being easy prey for Ron," the Ravenclaw boy replied. "I like the way you think, Hufflepuff."

"My name is Telika - not Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw," Telika sternly corrected him.

"And my name is Arron - not Ravenclaw, Telika," Arron countered. "I think we've just demonstrated the primary flaw in Telika's suggestion, our house affiliations. We can barely hold a civil conversation, much less form a mutual defense pact. How can we convince others to work with us, if we can't even talk to each other like civilized beings?"

"Good point. How many Slytherins are willing to work with Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs and visa versa?" the Slytherin asked. "And, if any of you want to know, my name is Lyta."

"I'm Annika, and how can we not?" Annika countered. "I'd bet you ten Galleons that Ron won't stop at Gryffindor. Poor Neville is being treated like he is a carrier of a flesh-eating virus, and, since my little freak out, the others have been thinking I'm some sort of monster with a multiple personality disorder. If Ron increases the hysteria further, where does that leave us?"

"She's right, Ron has been making 'friends' in my house," Telika confirmed.

"He's tried to bother Ravenclaw once or twice, but we've given him the brush-off," Arron added. "We've already welcomed Harry and Hermione, two of Ron's ex-friends to our table, we aren't about to betray them. They were two of Gryffindor's best, and because of the Deputy Headmistress, they've managed to remain Prefects. Perhaps someday they will return to their own house, but until that day comes, Ravenclaw will continue to grant them Harborage."

"Careful, Arron, you don't want go causally dropping terms like 'Harborage' in front of a Professor," Lyta discreetly whispered. "You may start something you can't stop."

The boy nodded. Thinking back to his old school days, Zach remembered whispers of 'finding a safe harbor.' Under extreme circumstances, it was the only alternative to a Resorting. But, to his knowledge, it had only been invoked on rare occasions since the four houses were founded. He searched his mind for further details but, for the life of him, couldn't remember anything more on the subject. He made a mental note to ask Severus what it meant.

"What about Ginny? She's a Seer, and we did nothing to help her when she needed us," Annika pointed out. "Why would she, or anyone else, listen to us now?"

"Speak for yourself," Arron objected. "Lyta and I support her actions both before the incident and after. I wouldn't blame her if she didn't trust us, but I doubt that would change the other Seers' acceptance of the idea."

"If you think about it, the reason we're even considering this is because of what happened to her," Telika said. "What do you think, Professor Montgomery, should we try to pull it together as a group to stop an incident like Ginny's from happening again?"

"Hufflepuffs, always looking to a greater authority for guidance," Lyta thought disdainfully. "Can't they do anything without checking to see if the status quo will approve?"

"Well, the Professor is here, and he wants us to confide in him, why not ask?" the Hufflepuff Prefect responded, not realizing that the Slytherin hadn't spoken aloud. "It's not like we're skulking about or something. There is nothing wrong with getting feedback from an authority figure."

"I think you've all made excellent points. However, what you decide to do is entirely up to you," Zach answered. "If you feel the need to take your own steps to prevent another disaster, or to support each other, then go right ahead. As long as your actions aren't harmful, you'll have my full support."

"So where does this leave us?" Annika asked the group. "Do you think a pact is possible?"

"It'll take some doing, but if we can put our differences aside, we can make it happen," Arron appraised. They all agreed to it.

"Then it's decided," Telika said. "We'll help each other where we can, and work together to protect this Seer population that's appearing."

After reaching this consensus their conversation ended, leaving an oddly companionable silence in its wake. These Seers were becoming united by a common goal. It was more than he could've wished for. He hoped that the actual results of their pact would live up to the children's expectations, and to his.

*~*~*

As Minerva escorted Miss Weasley and her familiar to the Transfiguration classroom for their long awaited first session, she reflected on the young woman's unheard of power to communicate with objects, which Severus had warned her of this morning. The very idea that Miss Weasley heard genuine voices everywhere she went disturbed and confused Minerva greatly. A power like that could easily be mistaken for madness. How would the ancient wizards ever use such a power? What could anyone hope get out of that kind of arrangement? She shook her head to clear it. There was no way she was going to unravel the mystery that was Miss Weasley's new gifts easily, and this was hardly the time. They entered her classroom. Minerva led the younger witch to a large table with two chairs, sitting before the chalkboard in front of the room. On the table a variety of objects and small caged animals were set up for her assessment of Miss Weasley. Her student took a seat.

"Before we start I did something, transfigured something actually, in front of Professor Montgomery that came naturally to me, but he said it was weird," Miss Weasley began. "He told me to talk to you about it."

"Perhaps you had better show me," Minerva recommended, knowing that she was about to witness something out of the ordinary.

The younger witch nodded, not bothering to pull out her wand as she gathered power. Then, without uttering a single word, she focused it into transfiguring a handkerchief, out of the air itself. Minerva gasped, dumbfounded by the fifth year's action. All of her training, everything she knew told her that the steps Miss Weasley took to do that were impossible, but she had seen it for herself and she wasn't the only witness. Merlin, it was a repeatable experiment! Impossible, it was just impossible...

"I can't do anything right!" the young witch lamented, shaking her head.

"Impossible isn't wrong, Miss Weasley," Minerva swiftly replied, realizing that Miss Weasley had heard her surface thoughts, not to mention seeing the expression on her face. Zach was correct, there was no way they could hide their reactions from her. Minerva took the other seat, quickly composing herself before continuing. "Let me explain... each step you took to-to create this object is considered by advanced transfiguration to be humanly impossible. There have been attempts in the field to break these barriers before, but none have ever been even remotely successful. The only indication that any of those steps are achievable, but merely beyond our current grasp, was that Merlin himself was said to be capable of it. I am not given to hyperbole, but I must say that what you've just done is a great achievement, Miss Weasley!"

"Oh great, now everyone will behave like I'm some mythic figure wannabe," the young witch muttered, obviously depressed. "Every time I do something, everyone reacts as if it's a grand discovery! I mean no disrespect, but I feel like some bug being kept beneath a muggle magnifying glass, under the noon sun."

It was obvious to Minerva that simple reassurances weren't going to work with her, considering her highly emotional state. She needed to find something else to bring the young woman's mind back into focus. She suspected that using the witch's innate analytical nature might help her to approach this from another perspective.

"Your situation is unique to our knowledge, and the assessments we've been doing throughout the week are meant to assist us in determining what your current needs are," Minerva explained. "What we've discovered is that your magical shift has caused a schism between your basic skills, and your more complex ones. It seems that the more difficult the task, the easier it is for you to accomplish, and-"

"-the more simplistic the task, the more difficult it becomes," the young witch concluded with her. She nodded as she watched Miss Weasley put aside her frustrations to tackle a new problem. It was nice to know that she could still help one of her students.

"Why haven't we considered that before?" Miss Weasley said, almost to herself. "The answer has been right there the whole time."

"You're condition is anything but hopeless, my dear," Minerva continued. "You are going to need retraining to bring your basic skills back to a reasonable level, but with some time and effort, I'm confident you'll eventually recover the majority of what you've lost. It might help if you explained what you did step by step. Perhaps together we can quantify how your new perceptions have allowed you to intuitively come up with a solution. Let's start with something easy. Why don't you try summarizing what you did, then we'll work it out from there."

"The air has molecules, we just don't see them," Miss Weasley repeated what she had told Professor Montgomery. "It's just like turning a rat into a goblet. You visualize, and reorder matter into whatever you desire."

"I-I think you neglected to mention a few steps," she stammered, perplexed by the ridiculously simplified statement. This was conceivably the Rosette Stone to what the greatest Light Wizard, Merlin, knew but they didn't. She wondered if Miss Weasley had any clue to how close she was to surpassing the greatest minds of the age in Transfiguration, including her own. Everyone thought Animagus was as far you can go, but here was the possible key to the fabled level of Transfiguration, and it resided within a fifteen year old girl's mind. Merlin would have found this hysterical!

"Tell me more about Merlin. Professor Binns pretty much glossed over the specifics," Miss Weasley requested, curious.

"There are many legends about Merlin handed down to us from both our muggle and wizarding ancestors, and even tomes said to be written by Merlin himself," Minerva recounted. "He formed the round table, affected both muggle and wizarding societies in countless ways, accomplishing more in his life than any other wizard or witch to date. But most of his legends contradict one another, and they've become exaggerated over time. For instance, one legend says that Merlin aged backwards and could predict the future by remembering it. It's infinitely more likely that he saw the future, and simply enjoyed playing with glamour charms in his old age. Some historians have devoted their lives to studying the oral tradition of Merlin, and the few of his texts that were handed down to us through the ages, trying to distinguish fact from myth. Unfortunately, everything Merlin recorded is in an indecipherable code, which neither magical cryptologists nor historians have ever comprehended."

"What do they say about the man himself?" Miss Weasley asked, fascinated.

"He was said to have been quite eccentric, speaking in riddles almost constantly," Minerva recalled, drawing on her own extensive studies to give the young woman the clearest picture she could. "Whenever someone asked him why, he was quoted as saying 'Candid truth is there for those who can listen and hear.'"

"Of course, that makes sense," Miss Weasley cut in.

"How does it make sense?" Minerva asked.

"It's just like I told Melinda in Care of Magical Creatures, they aren't really the same thing," Miss Weasley replied. "The truth of his words was always there, you only have to be open to hear it."

"How are hearing and listening different?" she repeated.

"You have to listen for what's there, not for what you expect," Miss Weasley elaborated. "How much do we really listen to the songs we hear around us? Sometimes it's better to listen for the music - not the song. Hearing it can tell you far more than you think."

Minerva shook her head in confusion and went on with what she knew of Merlin.

"In many ways he perceived the wizards who idolized him as children, though he held that everyone was capable of superior development. Merlin was a natural mass of contradictions, who I've always found fascinating. Historians say that he was very lonely towards the end of his life. In his senility, Merlin was as incapable of furthering the understanding of the wizards around him, as they were of truly reaching him. Just before he vanished from the wizarding and muggle worlds, he told everyone that his time was over, bequeathing only a few tomes and scrolls from his personal library to families he trusted, telling the assembled muggles and wizards that his time would come again when... How did it go? 'When people bridge listening and hearing together once again, you'll find me at the heart of shadows and dreams.' Then he left. Muggles and wizards have searched in vain for Merlin's final resting-place, along with the remainder of his missing library, for more than a millennium. I doubt either still exist."

"Strange guy... I can relate to how he must have felt, being so isolated," Miss Weasley whispered. "People think I talk in riddles too."

"Don't feel bad about it. Once your reintegration is complete, things may settle down again," Minerva replied.

"I hope so," Miss Weasley whispered.

"Why didn't you use your wand?" she asked, trying to redirect the young woman's attention.

"Because then I would have to tell it what to do first, and the other way is faster," Miss Weasley answered.

"Did you subvocalize the spell instead?" Minerva suggested.

"Nope, that path is too narrow," Miss Weasley cryptically replied.

"What do you mean by too narrow?" she persisted.

"It wouldn't work because visualizing the word inhibits visualizing all the aspects you need to make the object," Miss Weasley elaborated. "You don't need a wand to transform into an Animagus because the energy is focused and amplified from within, just as I don't require my wand to create an object. It's the same thing."

"So, there is a point where the words get in the way?" Minerva questioned, only partially grasping it.

"Yes, the higher up you go the more words can become a trap," said Miss Weasley. "I guess the trick is to understand the words enough to forget them, but to never let them go."

"Why?" Minerva asked, missing some vital element that would bridge the gap between them. "How can you surpass words when you need them to explain the next step, as well as to refine earlier ones?"

"I...I-I know it, but I have no idea what words would go together to make it clear to you," Miss Weasley groaned, frustrated. "The language is magic, an innate element we share, but I don't have the vocabulary to explain its vocabulary... Merlin help me, I'm not making any sense, or is it that I am making sense and that's the problem?"

"Take a deep breath, Miss Weasley, we'll try something else," she recommended, soothingly.

The young witch was undoubtedly on to something, but the fifth year training Miss Weasley had received wasn't enough to articulate it to anyone else. Perhaps with further research, the young woman would be able to. Maybe if she attacked the method Miss Weasley used to create the object itself, instead of the combination of steps to bring it all together, there was a chance she could shake something loose.

"Do you know Darinsky's uncertainty principle?" Minerva inquired.

"No," Miss Weasley replied.

"Darinsky proved that you can't transfigure objects out of thin air, because in order to do so you would have to know the exact positioning of every molecule you would require as you acted, or it wouldn't be able to maintain cohesion," Minerva explained.

"That's close, but not entirely accurate," Miss Weasley maintained thoughtfully.

"Why not?" she asked.

"Bear with me on this one," Miss Weasley said, getting to her feet. With the minor wave of a hand Miss Weasley transfigured the chalkboard into a muggle pad, roughly the size of the normal board resting on a stand, and the chalk into muggle markers. The young witch uncapped the marker and continued. "Let's say that this whole thing is air," drawing an assortment of large dots at varying distances from each other on the first sheet of paper. "If I understand this right, Darinsky tried to transfigure the air by estimating each molecule's exact location, then reordering the loosely bound matter into something else."

Minerva nodded and Miss Weasley connected the dots to each other. "Now, the reason why this method always results in molecular dispersal is that he didn't take the spurious nature of air, in fact, of all matter into account. Darinsky was half-right, you can't perfectly predict the positioning of every molecule of air as you work, but then again, you can't do that with a preexisting object either." Miss Weasley pulled back the first sheet, revealing a fresh one underneath it, then drew a square.

"When you transfigure an object, you're not trying to take each particle of it perfectly into account, you're accounting for its relative density, and construction in a predetermined space. The same thing is true with air. Air is just a gaseous form of matter, like steam. Just as ice is a solidified form of water. When you transfigure water into ice, you're altering the overall state of the thing by slowing the speed of the molecules. You've taken care of the uncertainty problem altogether by unconsciously compressing the raw materials as you go, forming a new object." The witch turned the square into a cube, drew another set of dots, and began pointing at it as she continued. "For working with air, you have to increase the pressure inside the area you're planning to use, by densely compressing the loosely bound molecules, until they're as tightly compacted as you can get them." She quickly added more dots. "Then you transfigure the compressed mass into what you want," the young witch concluded, haphazardly filling the empty space. "Simple."

Hardly simple! Minerva thought, incredulous. It was hard to believe that the young woman was so unaware of the significance of the treasure she'd stumbled onto.

"How do you concentrate the air molecules in order to do the task?" she asked.

"At the beginning of the spell you visualize a tiny bubble the shape of the object you're making, attracting and encasing the necessary air molecules into it," Miss Weasley said. "As the bubble fills up, you let it expand until it's the right size, containing the amount you need, then you transform the material."

"I think I understand now," Minerva replied. "Can you write for me a technical work-up of this abstract theorem, including the necessary adjustments I'll need to amend other spells?"

"Yes, ma'am," Miss Weasley replied, turning to a fresh page, transfiguring the marker into a muggle pen, then eagerly beginning her task. "I suspected that's what you'd ask for."

Minerva was transfixed as she watched Miss Weasley write faster than should be possible, creating a large, immensely detailed chart in a matter of minutes. When the young woman was satisfied that it was done, she stood aside, admiring the chart. Minerva stood, creeping up to the pad to examine it properly. It was amazing! Just looking at it filled her with a great sense of awe. The potential of this discovery alone was staggering. Once she got permission from Severus to allow his apprentice to collaborate on this, they could publish a paper the likes of which the wizarding world has never seen! The prospect of an ongoing working relationship, of bringing the young woman to the point where she could communicate the rest, made Minerva uncharacteristically giddy. She took out her wand as she finished studying the chart, ready to make the attempt. They turned to face each other as she pointed her wand at an empty space on the floor. Minerva took a deep breath, and began her task.

"Aeris sessio," Minerva said, devoting her total concentration to the spell. The air pocket formed, growing rapidly to the size and density she desired. Without warning the bubble burst, the sudden release of energy making her stumble slightly.

"You're close, try again, Professor," Miss Weasley instructed. "The field wasn't secure, that's all. Do what you know. This is as much an art form as it is a magical science, let it flow from you freely, drawing the form you're after into the real world with it."

Minerva adjusted her approach, relying on her Animagus training for visualizing every detail of the chair, as began the second attempt. Within seconds she had compacted the matter she required and transfigured it into a chair. Inspecting her handiwork, Miss Weasley let out a little laugh. The young woman beamed at her, overjoyed at her apparent success.

"I'm not the only who can do it!" Miss Weasley exulted. "It's not impossible!"

Minerva couldn't help but smile as well. It was quite an achievement, but to be sure they had to replicate it. She created another chair, then continued to test the adaptive spell, creating a shield, a parrot, and several butterflies.

"Do you think many wizards could learn this spell?" the young witch asked.

"I'd say that the theory itself could be taught to seventh years," she appraised. "But I doubt that anyone who can't grasp the principles behind becoming Animagi could successfully perform this spell."

"Alexis could, do you plan to teach it to her?" asked Miss Weasley. "She would love it!"

"Yes," replied Minerva.

"Wonderful," Miss Weasley said.

"I think this would be a wonderful opportunity for Miss Levine to learn as well. This discovery will need to be properly researched and published, but with this chart, the rest would be simple. We could work on it together," Minerva proposed. "It would make an unforgettable paper! Of course, you will be fully accredited on the actual discovery, and the three of us would share the credit on the rest."

"What about my studies in Potions?" her student asked. "I doubt master Snape would want me to get side-tracked."

"Leave convincing Professor Snape to me," Minerva said. "I think we can come to an agreement on this. All you need to do is say yes."

"You could write the paper on your own and keep it, I wouldn't mind," Miss Weasley suggested.

"Well, I would mind," Minerva exclaimed, shocked by the suggestion. "And in the long run, I suspect you would come to. You deserve the credit. I would never take that from you! The reason I suggested collaboration is that together we can complete this in a fraction of the time, and with greater ease, than either of us alone."

"I'm sorry if I offended you," Miss Weasley apologized.

"Don't be, my dear, you didn't mean anything by it," Minerva reassured her. "Everything else aside, do you want to work with me on this?"

"I would love to," Miss Weasley answered.

"Don't worry about becoming too overloaded, we'll work this out at your pace," she promised. "You won't regret this... Let's return to the assessment. We need to get this phase out of the way before the end of session. One more thing, try not to do wandless transfiguration in public. It might attract unwanted attention."

The young woman agreed, returning to her seat while Minerva carefully removed the chart from the pad, gingerly stowing it away in her desk, placing a dozen protection charms on it. She transfigured the chalkboard back to it's original state, then joined Miss Weasley. The young witch finally set her familiar on the table, readied her own wand, and they began.

"Why don't we start with the second year spell 'Veriverto,'" Minerva instructed.

Miss Weasley removed a small rat from its cage, setting it down on the table.

"Veriverto," Miss Weasley enunciated, transfiguring the rat into a goblet.

"Perfect, Miss..." she trailed off as the goblet sank through the table, and embedded itself in the floor. The young witch tried to pick it up, but couldn't.

"It's too heavy," Miss Weasley stated, backing away as it threatened to go through the floor as well. With some minor difficulty, Minerva transfigured the object back to its original form and returned the creature to its cage. The session went mostly downhill from there, each simple spell ending in one kind of disaster or another. Undoubtedly the worst was when her student tried to transfigure a bird into a kitten. The young woman had succeeded in making a kitten, but it continued duplicating at an unbelievable rate. By the time Minerva figured out how to counteract the runaway spell her classroom was positively covered in felines. Had she taken any longer they would've been buried in them. She loved cats, being one herself, but she didn't think of that as such a good way to go. Once she began raising the difficulty level, Miss Weasley's work began to steadily improve, until it was nearly normal.

The only trouble was that her student's normal wasn't anywhere near that of the other children, or of most fully trained wizards for that matter. She knew now that the schism Severus mentioned wasn't restricted only to power. Focus, visualization, and understanding were also playing an important part in this. With the other magical fields, Minerva had no doubt that Miss Weasley would eventually reacquire the elemental skills, but here... here the only route to using those talents might be to abandon the normal way, allowing Miss Weasley to continue relying solely on this new method. Trying to force the Genie back into the bottle could even prove to be detrimental to the younger witch. She would have to take time to consider this carefully. Speaking of time... checking it, she saw that theirs was just about up.

"There is one more spell we have to do," Minerva said, aiming her wand at her student. "Don't be alarmed, this is just a simple assessment spell... Vires!"

An intense white light radiated from Miss Weasley, causing Minerva to shield her eyes until it vanished. Minerva holstered her wand, wondering about the results, or rather, lack of them from the spell. How could 'over-powered' be an understatement? The young woman's powers were so great that the spell couldn't even interpret what it saw!

"Is something wrong, Professor McGonagall?" Miss Weasley asked.

"Wrong? No, merely unexpected," Minerva said, beginning to set up for the next class. "You said before that you didn't have the language to explain what you know. Perhaps you should try doing some independent study in the library. The Professors have discussed it and we've decided to give you nearly unfettered access to any material you desire in the library, including in the Restricted Section."

"You're serious, but why?" Miss Weasley asked surprised, as the young woman began to assist her.

"Because you should be allowed to develop your talents at your own pace," Minerva explained. "Madam Pince will be monitoring everything you read to make sure that anything you remove from the Restricted Section is on the approved list your master and I have prepared."

"Could you escort me to the library instead of my room?" Miss Weasley requested.

"Certainly, Miss Weasley," Minerva said. "I'll inform Professor Snape."

*~*~*

Draco waited impatiently for Defense Against the Dark Arts to begin. He wanted nothing more than to ditch this class and his brain dead Keepers, to seek sanctuary from the prattling din surrounding him. The migraine, caused by the constant drone of voices, made him irritable, and he wished that the headache potion he'd taken this morning hadn't begun wearing off so soon. He couldn't risk taking any more in front of them, leaving him with no choice but to suffer silently through the Gryffindor/Slytherin class. Listening to their thoughts, he knew more than he ever wanted to know about what the Gryffindors thought of him, most of them, with a few odd exceptions, shouting their thoughts at the tops of their minds. On the other hand, the majority of the Slytherins were much quieter, each trained to hide their thoughts from lesser sensitives. They habitually kept those walls up when around outsiders, with the exception of Crabbe and Goyle, who were too stupid to have anything worth searching for anyway.

He went through the exercise Montgomery had taught him. It partially shielded him, but only for as long as he could maintain his focus. The last twenty-four hours were putting his boasted ability to cope with anything to the test, and there was every chance things would continue deteriorating from here. Professor Montgomery... He didn't even want to think about the idea that the Professor could be his only hope to control his powers. For some reason, Professor Snape thought that his Godfather was trustworthy and a man like Snape doesn't trust easily or often. Draco was sure that Snape didn't trust him in the slightest. What hurdles did the elder Malfoy go through to earn such a rare commodity? It must have been a great deal for Montgomery to have been accepted so quickly.

He didn't think for a second that his Godfather wasn't a true Malfoy, despite his suspect upbringing. True Malfoys were always dangerous, bound differently to the clan than average Malfoys. The distinction between the two seemed meaningless at first glance, but it was just the opposite. They were utterly loyal to the continuation of the family line, willing to forsake anyone or anything to safeguard it. They were, in essence, the Malfoy clan's hidden guardians and occasional assassins. Almost every generation, going back to when the clan was founded, had at least one Malfoy with that unofficial title, there to protect the clan from outsiders as well as from themselves. Family history recounted that the founder knew that their Machiavellian nature could be their undoing, so he created a willing buffer to prevent it once he was gone. He only remembered one true Malfoy who forswore that imperative, and they didn't last long. So what did that make his third cousin once-removed? A spy? Their Keeper? No, father wouldn't want me to keep an eye on him if it was that. If Montgomery were under Lucius' total control he wouldn't have vanished for fifteen years. The situation was far more complicated than that.

"...you listening to a word I said, Mr. Malfoy?" Lupin asked, cutting through his thoughts.

Draco was surprised that he hadn't sensed the werewolf's arrival that he'd let his mind wander for so long. He couldn't afford to get sloppy, not with the stakes so high. He dealt with the problem, losing Slytherin only five points for his lapse of concentration. Throughout the rest of class, Draco didn't dare arouse further suspicion, as he was forced to observe the Gryffindor's annoying mental habits. One thing he found particularly surprising was that the only person with more powerful shields than Professor Lupin or the Auror, was Ginny's miserable excuse for a brother. Who knew that bloody moron could guard anything, especially his thoughts? Potter and Granger, on the other hand, were much easier to read, although their thoughts weren't nearly as loud as their housemates'. Granger's mind was focused solely on her work, leaving room for nothing else, which made her thoughts incredibly dull. Potter was driven to distraction by something that seemed awfully important to him. He listened closer, curious as to what would possibly bother the power hungry, self-righteous, egomaniac that was Harry Potter. What he found was the last thing he ever expected.

Potter's main focus wasn't on fame or getting attention, as he had assumed from the start. The-Boy-Who-Lived was willing to sacrifice everything he had, including his own life, to protect others, to preserve what he cared about. Potter had tried everything to be normal. Afraid of the spotlight in any form, Potter was always being forced into it because of the lightning scar on his forehead. A scar which had been the bane of the Gryffindor's existence since before he could remember, marking him as different from everyone around him. Potter had given his housemates everything, but it wasn't enough to convince them that Ron was lying about Ginny. It wasn't enough to protect him from being ridiculed and tormented by people he once considered his friends. It didn't stop them from seeing him as a freak because of his new Seer status. The-Boy-Who-Lived had once been Gryffindor's hero, now he was an outcast, begging for scraps.

He had trouble believing that the Gryffindor had so little ego of his own behind all that bluster, that his part-time enemy really did have a martyr complex. Draco found himself doing something he never would have imagined doing; he pitied Harry. A Light wizard connected to the greatest Dark wizard of all time, literally. The vaunted Boy-Who-Lived was nothing more than another hapless wizard, struggling to survive just as he was. In the course of his short life, Harry Potter had been used as a pawn more often than any of the Slytherins, including himself. When Draco began to think about it, they were more alike than he'd ever admit except under the influence of Veritaserum. Draco turned his attention to Lupin, wondering what goes through the mind of a werewolf so close to his transformation.

"This morning Elric wasn't just talking about easing the suffering of my transformation... he was referring to forming a symbiosis with my werewolf nature," Lupin contemplated. "Can it be done, and if it works what will I become?"

The Professor didn't seem to have an answer to that bizarre question. Without warning, Professor Lupin met his gaze, and he knew he'd been caught. Could this bloody day get any worse?

"Stay after class, Mr. Malfoy, we'll discuss the matter then," Lupin thought directly at him.

Draco blinked, surprised that the Professor had been so discreet, not to mention that Lupin had realized so quickly that thoughts could be directed back and forth. What sort of grueling punishment would the Gryffindor-loving Professor assign him for this? How many points could a Professor take away for an offence that wasn't even on the books? Or worse yet, would Lupin report his activities to his father? The last thing Draco wanted was for Lucius to discover the truth before he had the chance to reveal it properly himself. While the class continued at an agonizingly slow pace, his mind went over the endless problems the Professor could cause him. But during his thoughts something told him that he had nothing to fear from the DADA Professor. As ordered, he stayed behind when the others left for lunch, hoping to just get this over with quickly. With luck, he wouldn't have to come up with an excuse for his new ally to explain why he was late. Prior to speaking, Lupin cast silencing and locking charms.

"Have you spoken to Professor Montgomery about your... talent?" Lupin asked. Draco was caught completely off guard, but refused to let Professor see his surprise, deciding that lying would get him nowhere.

"Yes, it's his fault I'm stuck this way," he answered.

"I figured as much," the werewolf replied. "I don't know much about the subject, but I do know that the Seers the Divination teacher has found so far, don't know how to cope very well yet, which would easily account for your earlier concentration slip. I take it you have the same problem?"

He refused to reply.

"I won't tell your father about this, it's your right to decide how and when he finds out," Lupin swore to him. "What you tell me stays between us, you have my word."

"I just found out yesterday," he confirmed, seeing that the teacher was being surprisingly candid with him. There was a lot more to this creature than met the eye. How... unexpected.

"You won't be punished for this," Lupin assured him. "But you would do well to remember that seeing and understanding aren't necessarily the same thing. People are often more than the sum of their passing thoughts. Wait long enough to know the individual, before passing judgement on them."

"Permission to speak candidly?" Draco requested, not really expecting to get it.

"Of course," Lupin granted.

"Why would you want to help a Slytherin?" Draco asked.

"When I first arrived and stated that I wanted my students to be able to come to me whenever they needed help, I meant all of my students, not just the Gryffindor children," Lupin said. "I'll admit that I've been prejudiced against your house in the past, but I've learned that you should never judge an individual by the category they're in. If you ever need me, my door is always open to you, and that door won't involve the Headmaster if you don't want it to. That goes for your housemates as well."

"Why?" Draco persisted.

"Because it's the right thing to do," Lupin replied.

He wouldn't have believed it if he didn't feel the werewolf's complete honesty for himself. His Head of House has certainly had an affect on this one, and who knew how many others?

"I'll keep that in mind," he sincerely replied. "Is that all, Professor?"

"Yes," Lupin said, taking down the charms. Draco left, grabbing his bag on the way out. He returned to the Dungeons, bound for Ginny Weasley's chamber. He tried, without much success, not to dwell on how he was going to make it through the day. Now that Montgomery was opening the classroom to the other students, there was no way he could retreat there again. In spite of his many alliances, he was on his own in this, and there would be no changing that. Even now, in this deserted corridor, the voices plagued him, endlessly scheming and prattling on, assaulting him with useless nonsense. He wondered how a man like Montgomery had survived this long, if this was what he faced everyday. He put his fruitless worrying aside as he knocked on Ginny's door, prepared to go through whatever hoops the other Seer had in mind. The Gray witch opened the door and invited him in.

As he crossed the threshold the oppressive voices silenced. Immersion in the sudden stillness shocked his overloaded senses, as surely as a Bludger to the stomach, forcing him to stop just inside the room to process this startling shift. He hadn't realized how much he needed this peace until the constant sensory overload ceased. It had been as if the people around him were walking through his mind, without any consideration for what they might be doing to it, and, if only they would all stop talking at once, he could figure out how to shut them out. Once again, he prayed he wouldn't inherit the tormenting madness that half the Seers in his clan had suffered.

He was startled when Ginny closed the door, having forgotten that she was even there. She watched him pensively, with a glimmer of concern reflected in her eyes. Draco tried to read her, and found that he couldn't. Thankfully, she was the quietest soul he'd come across, whatever passed for thoughts in Ginny's mind was beyond him. Briefly, he could convince himself that the last day hadn't happened, that he was the redoubtable Draco Malfoy, nothing more. When he finished deluding himself, he noticed how long they had been just standing there, staring at each other for no apparent reason. His ally attempted to fill the silence first, as if prompted by his thought.

After letting Draco in, Ginny watched their ally adjust to the sudden acute drop in noise level, reminding them of when she left this room for the first time after the storm. His reaction meant only one thing, his gift in The Sight had been awakened. One look at his thoughts told her that he was close to cracking. The combination of the information overload, and hiding his current condition from his housemates, was hurting him more than even Draco himself could've guessed. She had to help him, to come up with a way to ease his suffering, or he wasn't going to last a week.

"Be careful, my princess," cautioned Tom. "He's a Slytherin, and we don't like to show weakness in any form. If you're not tactful, your gushing concern will be taken as an insult, and we don't want that."

"What do you recommend?" Ginny thought.

"Make him feel secure by tending to his needs without drawing attention to his problem," Tom advised. "Allow Malfoy to feel that the choice to open up to you is still in his hands. If you don't, this meeting will end in disaster, I guarantee it."

Ginny could sense Draco realize that they had been silently standing there and she decided to speak first.

"Thank you for coming, Draco," Ginny said in a low, conversational tone. "Please, take a seat and make yourself comfortable."

They took a seat beside each other on the sofa. Ginny and Tom noticed that Ix Chel hadn't even bothered to wait long enough to greet their guest before she started eating.

"Have some manners, Ix," Tom chided aloud, using Ginny's voice. "The least you could do is greet our ally properly before stuffing your face."

"Sorry, but your staring contest didn't look like it was ending any time soon, and absorbing huge amounts of new information always makes me hungry," Ix Chel replied.

"She apologizes for her rudeness, and thanks you for coming," Ginny interpreted as she served them. "I must warn you that I can't focus very well while eating. Once I begin, you won't be able to catch my attention until I'm done. Is that a problem for you?"

"No, I prefer to eat in silence," the Slytherin answered.

"Good, then we'll talk afterwards," Ginny said. They had a quiet meal together. By the time Ginny and Tom returned to themselves Draco had finished his own meal, and was enjoying the silence that had so suddenly become so scarce for him.

"Why is it so bloody quiet in here?" Draco asked, not even realizing that he had spoken out loud. This was probably the best chance she was going to get.

"This room has been warded against any kind of interference, including stray thoughts and listening charms," Ginny explained. "It's equivalent to the ultimate silencing charm. I created this one on instinct, after I was attacked. Whatever you say literally stays in this room."

"You made the ward in Montgomery's classroom?" Draco blurted out before he could stop himself.

"Yes," she admitted. "How long have you known about your gift?"

"Less than twenty four hours," he told her, seeing little point in lying to her now that she knew. "Montgomery discovered me by chance yesterday. Since then, I haven't been able to find a moment's peace, except in Montgomery's classroom... and here."

"Believe me, I know how you feel," Tom said aloud.

"Somehow I doubt that," Draco drawled.

"Did you know that every person, animal, plant, and object is each sentient in its own way, and that everything, from the plant on my nightstand to the sofa we're sitting on, has its own unique voice?" Ginny revealed. "For me, even this shielded place is filled with voices of its own. For me, it remains an uphill battle to retain my focus enough to have this conversation. That's part of why I was catatonic after the storm, why master Snape doesn't want me anywhere near the Great Hall. Think about that for a moment, and tell me again that I don't know what you're going through."

"How do you function if the background noise is that debilitating?" he asked.

"It's been a struggle, but, with Ix Chel's help, I've been able to adjust to the voices constantly clamoring for my attention," Ginny said. "You are my ally, and I value your efforts on our behalf. I hope we can overcome our remaining differences and become friends."

"A Weasley befriending a Malfoy?" Draco asked, skeptical. "Our families have been enemies for at least two generations."

"Stranger things have happened," she countered. "Not too long ago, neither of us would have even thought to consider the possibility. We both know that times change, and with it, affiliations. Other than the fact that a friendship would play perfectly into our respective covers, we could learn a lot from each other beyond the game. As a sign of my sincerity let me give you a gift no one else can. I can teach you a stronger blocking spell than the one the Divination teacher gave you, so you won't have to return to him for that. Also, Alexis told me that each Slytherin has a private place. Show me one of your secret places, and I will fashion a ward like the one in Professor Montgomery's classroom."

"What about the rest of your precious family?" Draco sneered. "What will they say?"

"Fred and George have already sworn to stay away from you. As for the rest of my family, I'll handle them if needed," Ginny promised. "No one chooses my friends for me, or my enemies." She checked the time. "If we're going to do that ward today, we need to get started. What do you want, Draco? To take my gift for what it is, or wait, and chance missing an important opportunity? If you wish to keep this a secret, and not have to worry about getting master Snape's approval, now is the time."

"As long as you swear never to divulge where I'm taking you to anyone, including Alexis," he stipulated.

"I swear it, this stays between us," she agreed. "I'll show you the spell now, then you can lead the way."

Ix Chel and Ginny instructed their ally on how to use the spell, making sure he had gotten it before she placed Ix Chel on her shoulders and put on her gloves. Draco cast a concealment charm on them, then led them deeper into the Dungeons than Ginny had ever been. Something about the route they took struck a chord in Tom, but the memory eluded him. As they stopped at a dead end in the heart of the Dungeons, the walls told Ginny and Tom that the young Slytherin has been their only visitor in decades. After making certain that they weren't followed, Draco took out his wand and tapped several stones. A section of the wall parted, revealing a cherry wood oak door. With a whispered spell, Draco unlocked the door and they entered. Ginny felt the wards concealing and fortifying this place snap to life as he shut the door behind them. Ginny and Tom studied the state of the current wards, intrigued by the advanced age of some of them. As they observed one of their ally's most important hidden places, the room welcomed them. When the lights came on, she realized that they were standing in a small, long forgotten library, a library that once belonged to someone very important.

"It's said that when you study a Slytherin's most secret place, you glimpse the essence of that Slytherin, because it's the one place where they are truly themselves, the one place where they are vulnerable," Tom whispered. "Look closely, my little princess, and learn."

Ginny noticed that the room was huge, and mostly covered in dust. Tom knew that meant Malfoy was only using this space for his own purposes, and never bothered attempting to find out why the place had vanished into obscurity. Which also told him that, while Malfoy could take care of himself, he had little concept of the importance of history or how to use it to his advantage. The only signs of recent use were an empty cauldron with a neat pile of books were left set up on one table, off to the side. Near by on another table, Arithmancy books, scrolls, and notes were haphazardly left as if Draco's work had been interrupted. Tom knew that those must be Malfoy's favorite subjects. The state of disarray the Arithmancy materials were in told him that the Slytherin had spent a great deal of time here, cultivating a possibly hidden talent in the subject. There was something about the place that captured their attention, something which whispered that there were secrets to be found here, secrets just waiting for someone with the eyes and ears to perceive them.

"What is it?" Draco asked.

"This place has been forgotten for a long time, and always on purpose..." she whispered, her tone taking on an otherworldly quality, colored by a touch of reverence. "Every person who understands even an inkling of this treasure has left it intact for one reason, or another... How old are you, library?"

Ginny began repeating the room's answers as it whispered to her without words, feeling that Draco deserved to know.

"I am as old as the castle, as old as my creator's dreams," Ginny interpreted for Draco. "Who was your creator?"

"Salazar Slytherin," Tom continued aloud, as the room confirmed his speculation.

"How did you know?" she thought to Tom.

"I discovered this place myself, in my third year," Tom said. "I studied the room's many secrets. In a way, I guess you could say that this is where I got my start. This library is where I retreated to study the Dark Arts. Being here made me feel close to family, to my roots... Poor Malfoy, he stumbled on to one of Hogwarts' treasures and never even had a clue!"

"This place is Salazar Slytherin's personal library?" Draco asked.

"Yep... It looks like it's your turn to keep this place, in trust, for the future," Ginny responded, removing her gloves and pocketing them. "Amazing what listening and hearing can do for you, isn't it? I guess I should begin."

She walked into the center of the room and stopped, turning to face Draco. Ginny and Tom closed her eyes and bowed her head, intently concentrating on drawing in minute amounts of power from their environment. They put her hands together, fingers unclasped, focusing and directing the needed energy. The temperature in the room began to fall as they pulled her hands apart, forming an electric blue energy bubble between them. Raising their hands over her head, Ginny and Tom sculpted the Gray foundation of the ward, then moved on to the hard part. Beads of sweat formed on her, as they wove the aqua strands of negative shielding into the ward until they were secure. Once the ward was complete, and matched sufficiently to the other wards so that nothing clashed, they let the bubble expand, permeating the very fabric of the room in a blinding flash of light. Unfortunately, they still couldn't dump all the excess energy. They collapsed to her knees, totally drained.

The background noise vanished as Draco watched Ginny fall to her knees. He knew that he would be lucky if Professor Snape simply executed him on the spot when he found out what they were up to. He cursed under his breath, quickly kneeling beside her to examine her condition. As far as he could tell, she was fine.

"Damn!" Ginny muttered under her breath. "I still can't disperse it all."

"All of what?" he demanded. "Do you have any idea what Snape's gonna do to me when he sees you like this?"

"Relax, I'll be fine in a minute. If you spend all your time worrying about it, master Snape will pick it out of your mind in an instant," Ginny admonished.

"It's not your head in the guillotine if we're caught," Draco shot back.

"He's your Head of House - I'm his apprentice, neither of us would be getting out of the punishment he would choose," Ginny pointed out.

He helped the strange witch to a chair.

"Was that weird power you used Gray magic?" Draco asked.

"Yes," Ginny replied.

"Thank you for doing this. If you want to explore any of the secrets in this room, I won't object," Draco offered.

She nodded thoughtfully. They lapsed into silence for a few minutes while Snape's apprentice regained her strength. All of a sudden Ginny's eyes became unfocused as she stood, and started searching for something in the stacks.

"What are you looking for?" he drawled.

"A missing link," she stated cryptically.

Ginny halted in front of an arbitrary spot, removed several larger tomes and placed them on the floor. The snake hissed softly. The strange witch muttered a spell in archaic Latin, and a small, black, unmarked tome appeared on the shelf. Ginny picked it up, curiously thumbing through it.

"What is it?" Draco asked. "How did you know it was there?"

"A book," Ginny said. "And I already answered the other question."

"I meant, what does it contain?" Draco clarified, annoyed.

"Nothing," Snape's apprentice replied, handing it to him.

Draco looked through the book for himself, finding that all the pages were blank.

"Can I have it?" her question broke the odd silence as she returned the other books to their original place. "You said I could explore whatever secrets I wanted to in here."

"I did," Draco acknowledged, not feeling even a hint of power from the strange tome. Whatever it was, it had been hidden there for a reason... Draco was struck by the strangest sense of déjà vu as he handed the book back to her.

"Fine, but if it acts like it has a life of its own or something, inform Professor Snape about it," he advised. "Just don't tell him where you got it from."

Ix Chel hissed several times.

"Don't worry, I've learned my lesson when it comes to handling suspiciously empty tomes," Ginny agreed. "I'll tell you when, or if, I find anything in it."

Draco was glad she didn't object when he decided to take her straight back to her room. Then he left for his next class, armed with a blocking spell that worked much better for him, and the knowledge that there was somewhere he could escape to when he needed it. All in all, it wasn't turning out to be such a bad day.

Ginny sat on her bed, looking through the empty tome again. There was something about it that drew them. It wanted them to figure it out, but it wouldn't tell her how. They shoved the book under her bed, deciding to deal with it later. She removed her shoes and lay down, falling into a peaceful sleep.

__________

TBC