Orbs of Fate

Chapter 4

~The Fear Within~

Within seconds it was over and Ginny was walking towards the staircases.

She was gone.

He closed his eyes tightly and slumped against the wall in a very ungraceful manner.

Why did he kiss her? Now she would probably never talk to him again: not that she liked talking to him in the first place. And that wasn't the worst part. Now her brothers would probably kill him. Those Weasley's could be mean when they were angry and they were always angry with him, Draco Malfoy. Why? Because he was a Malfoy and that was the way it had always been and always would be. And that was the philosophy followed by the Malfoy's as well.

Weasley's = Poor + Stupid. Malfoy's = Snobby + Evil.

God, he hated his family.

He buried his face in his hands and closed his eyes tightly. It must have been somewhere in the middle of the night when he unpetrified Crabbe and Goyle, but it was very unclear in his mind's eye when he thought about it later on. Hours must have passed and he hadn't budged from his place in the hallway.

Draco didn't know what had gotten into him but he felt as though he had no legs. All he knew was that his sitting there was one thing he could be certain of, that he wouldn't look back on this night and realize he had actually been standing* there. It was the only comfort in his mixed-up jumble of a life.

He wasn't sure whether he was awake or still in a sleepy limbo when he thought he saw someone come round the corner towards him. He didn't bother adjusting his robes. His long hair was messily tied in a ponytail, robes hung over his strong figure diligently, and the buttons of his shirt undone were a sight for anyone to stop and stare at. He tried opening his eyes but they wouldn't go past tiny slits through which he could make out a curvy figure. His eyes closed again and he knew nothing more then darkness.

Draco opened his eyes to see the morning light flood through the misty end of the corridors (light was always hiding from the dungeons, it seemed). As soon as he saw his location, he abruptly shut his eyes again. Slowly he opened them and groaned internally. Just to make sure he wasn't dreaming or in need of extra powerful glasses, he blinked several times.

Everything he remembered was like a vague sort of dream. As a last resort, he was about to pinch himself when Goyle's snore erupted into the silence of the hall like a bombshell. That was all the proof he needed.

He painfully picked himself off the floor and felt sore all over.

The light flooding the hall end was bright, the type that would be seen on a crisp afternoon, he realized to his own horror.

He grabbed his wand from the floor and reluctantly, after debating with himself, levitated Crabbe and Goyle, who were still asleep, off the floor.

He walked swiftly to his Dormitories with his 'friends' whizzing through the air behind him. He lowered them onto the hearthrug in front of the fire, which was now nothing but a few red embers.

'Holy shit,' he half-moaned, half-whispered. His dorm was empty and so was the one across from them. He clutched a pocket watch sitting on his trunk in front of his bed.

"Bugger!" It was 3.00 in the afternoon! Today was they were supposed to be a start a new lesson on 'Alchemy' in Potions. Draco would rather eat dirt then miss something so important. Well, he would rather have someone else eat dirt anyway.

He grabbed his bag and various potions ingredients and found himself in the hallway again. He stuffed the jars of ingredients in his bag as he walked, and weighed the options.

He still hadn't reached the classroom and there was still time for him to runaway and feign sick. Snape would most likely see through that one but it was worth a try.

On the other hand, it was going to be annoying cooped up in the dungeons with no intelligent life but Crabbe and Goyle to be accompanied by. He shuddered and picked up pace as he slammed into a solid figure.

It was the door leading to the potions classroom. He cursed loudly and wondered whether all his bones were mean to be broken in one day.

The oak door opened abruptly and a gust of wind followed.

"Ah Mr.Malfoy," said Snape, "How nice of you to arrive half-way through the lesson"

Draco peered into the classroom and sighed with relief. Today was Double Potions for Slytherins. No other house. Less humiliation.

"May I ask why you are late and where you were up till now, Mr.Malfoy?" Snape had a tight expression on his face but his voice was sober.

Draco stared down at his feet and avoided eye contact. He knew better then to actually answer* one of Professor Snape's questions.

"Detention. Tonight at 8.00 sharp in the dungeons," he said so sternly, that everyone looked frightened.

"Yes, Professor," he mumbled as he slid into his seat. Whether people believed it or not, Snape really didn't favor his house. He simply put on an act in front of other houses to stomp out their happy, stupid smiles and thoughts. Later on he would take away house points from Slytherin for their share of the trouble too. But watching the unjustified faces of the Gryffindors was worth it. Snape wasn't biased, he just made it seem as though he was. Draco liked him.

~*~*~

Piles of large heavy leather-bound books were piled high, veiling Ron Weasley's freckled face, bent over a rather worn-looking book. He brushed a tangle of his wild Weasley hair off of his forehead and began, furiously, flipping through pages of the battered book.

Much to the annoyance of the Librarian, Ron tossed the heavy book aside, which landed with a 'thump' on the floor. After a few moments of being glared at by Madame Pinch, he reached out and grabbed another book from the middle of a stacked pile, carelessly.

Within a blink of an eye the cautiously stacked piles of books came flailing down, decorating the round table along with the stone floor, and succeeding in interrupting silence.

From afar end of the Library, a frown complimented Madame Hooch's face. "Sorry, I'll clean it up" Ron yelled; a few first years looked up and caused another frown to grace the stern librarians face.

He stooped down onto the floor and began picking up spilled books. After neatly piling up all the books, Ron sat down and sighed mentally. It was one thing cleaning up a mess but cleaning up a mess that screamed at you if you held it the wrong way was another thing.

A book was missing though. He checked under the table and saw that the book had crawled it's way underneath the next table. Pushing back his chair, he got down on all fours and crawled over to the book. He was about to pick the book up (cautiously; he had understood enough how to touch a book so that it won't grab you back) when a pair of smooth female legs met his face.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he realized whom the legs belonged to. He craned his neck up instead of standing up, which may have saved him some dignity.

Hermione, who was clearly enjoying the look on his face, was towering above him.

She wore an elaborate skirt and blouse, with a superior smile on her face as an accessory.

"What are you doing?" she asked slyly.

"Reading," he muttered under his breath. Hermione must have heard him because she didn't ask anything else.

"I was just in the Infirmary to see Harry. He looks terrible!" she exclaimed while settling down in a chair, opposite to Ron.

"I know. I talked to Madame Pomfrey and she said that he should be fine within a day or two," he said, thoughtfully. "She also said that she has no idea what happened to him"

"When did you see her and Harry?"

"Yesterday at dinner... I wasn't feeling hungry."

"Well, today she said that he should be fine by tonight, maybe tomorrow." She looked worried and bit her lip. "You were there, Ron, what exactly happened?"

"After DADA yesterday, when you left for Arithmancy," he began while Hermione fidgeted in her chair. "Me and Harry headed towards the Divination tower. We were at the 3^rd floor corridor when we saw Ginny rushing towards us like some mad woman! Colin was yelling something after her. I figure she was trying to get away from him because she didn't even look back.

"The next thing I know is that she's rushing past me and when I turned around , Harry was on the floor breathing heavy."

"But--But how?" Hermione looked completely puzzled, as was Ron feeling.

"I don't know, he was fine when we were standing there. Anyway, I didn't see how it happened," he replied and received a frown from his female friend.

"Ron! How unobservant are you?" She looked angry now, nothing new for Ron.

"Listen, I don't want to argue!" he shot back and then more calmly said, "So, like I was saying, Ginny didn't seem to notice Harry crumpling on the floor and tripped over his legs. I think it was then when he fainted. It was a mess! Someone screamed 'Harry's dead!' and it was total chaos from there," he said, throwing up his hands in the air to show 'chaos'.

"So he was fine when you two were standing in the hallway?"

"Yes."

"And he fainted completely when Ginny tripped over him?"

"Yes, I think I've said that already, or were you not listening?"

She ignored his comment; twisting her eyebrows in confusion. "I have a feeling that Harry's not telling us something."

'I have a feeling we're all hiding something.' Ron thought but knew better then to say so.

"Are you implying that Ginny has something to do with this?"

Hermione looked up, surprised, that Ron could tell what she was thinking. "Not exactly. But something's up and I'm going to find out what!"

"Yeah good luck. Tell me when you do," he said to a shocked Hermione.

She hadn't expected this from him. Harry was their best friend and Ron was always by his side. Ron was always the first one to want to help Harry, but then why did he totally ignore this weird situation? He didn't even seem worried. She wanted to tell him all this but kept her mouth shut, he was like a fire cracker liable to explode at any moment.

"After Harry went unconscious, Professor McGonagall and Filch brought him to the Hospital Wing," he told her, while staring at a piece of parchment.

"And Madame Pomfrey didn't even let me stay for more then 10 minutes " she added glumly.

"Me too."

They sat in tense silence for a while, until Hermione reached out and picked up a book lying near her arms, which were outstretched on the table a few minutes ago. She read the title and was about to turn to the first page when Ron abruptly snatched the book out of her hands.

"Hey! I was reading that," she said, angrily. "What did you do that for?"

"We're going to be late for dinner, we better get going," he said, avoiding her eyes. "It was nothing, really. Just some work for divination," he added, when seeing the look on her face.

She raised her eyebrows in impatience. "The Firth Of The Illogical?" she said. "What does 'The Firth Of The Illogical' have to do with Divination?"

For a moment, he considered telling her the truth. He hesitated and then said, "Well, you know how weird Trelawney is! Just trying to figure out her mentality," he offered, lamely. He forced a fake laugh and immediately regretted it afterwards. It made his pathetic lie sound even more sugarcoated.

Hermione opened her mouth to say something but Ron interjected, "Can we go now? I really don't want to be late."

She stared at him quizzically, trying to figure out just exactly what Ron was hiding. He stacked all the books to one side and then got up, edging towards the exit.

"Coming?"

"Oh alright. Let's check up on Harry again before dinner. It won't matter if we're a few minutes late," she said, checking her pocket watch.

"But--But you said that you just visited him in the infirmary!" Ron said, walking besides her.

"Oh I know." She said calmly. "But there is no harm in checking again. Who knows, he might be revived by now" It's a good thing she didn't see the annoyed look on Ron's face, otherwise they might have had another row.

They both walked in silence after that, glancing at each other every now and then, but neither saying a word.

Ever since their 4^th year, when they both had an argument over the Yule Ball, they had stopped talking to each other about their love interests. So when Ron asked her about Viktor Krum, he shocked himself as well as her. She turned a shade of crimson, which was very unlike her.

"I-err- owled him a few times over the summer but didn't go and visit like I was planning on," she said, still not looking at him. "He wrote back of course," she added. She had all of a sudden become very interested in brushing her fingertips against the walls as they walked.

Ron wasn't sure what was more shocking, his sudden courage to ask the question or Hermione's shy reply.

All three of them had been friends for six years and Ron clearly knew what type of a person she was. Hermione wasn't one of those giggly girls who blushed and laughed in your face for no apparent reason. She was a much different person and always considered herself worthier and different then the other girls.

Then why was she acting that way now?

"So you're not his girlfriend anymore?" he said, to his own horror.

She stopped walking and came to a halt with her arms crossed across her chest. Ron, who had already gone a few paces ahead of her, backtracked to her side.

"We were never really a couple, you know," she said sternly. "Why are you asking?"

"I was just asking!" He shrugged nonchalantly and said, "It's not a big deal. I was only making conversation."

"OK" There was a hint of disappointment in her voice but she covered that up with her rigid face. "He still writes to me though," she added as an afterthought.

"I see" The words had hardly left his mouth when the school bell rang shrilly through the halls.

"Where are we going again?"

A tidal wave of students rushed into the corridors, heading for the Great Hall. It was only a small amount of time until Ron and Hermione were also swept into the massive crowd.

"I suppose we could always see him afterwards?" Hermione called through the mass.

"Yeah" They both joined the crowd as it flooded into the Entrance.

*~*~*

Harry lay in his rickety Infirmary bed, fidgeting and turning over on his sides, restlessly.

He had only woken up an hour or two ago, when The Matron, Madame Pomfrey said that she would let him go in a few days or so, much to Harry's objections. After endlessly arguing with her, she agreed to let him go tomorrow if she was satisfied.

He felt impatient and had an indescribable urge to see Dumbledore. He was the only one who could help him now. A few days ago he thought the pain would go away by itself, yesterday he was beginning to doubt it, today, he knew the pain wasn't a fluke. It was all real. Not just a nightmare.

He was half afraid of the way Dumbledore would react to him not telling sooner. The truth was Harry didn't want to spoil it. For two years, with the return of Voldemort, no one had seen such peace. There were no attempts to kill him, no killings at all, no DeathEater activity. He was enjoying it and letting the Order Of Phoenix take care of things. For once, he felt like everyone else. An ordinary boy wizard, if you could call being a wizard ordinary. But with this new revelation things were bound to get out of control.

He had learned it the hard way. Nothing lasts forever.

Harry stuffed his face in the pillow and moaned out of frustration. He was used to having strange things happen to him, but never anything so mind-boggling. What he couldn't understand was why Ginny and Malfoy were involved. The last time his scar hurt was when Voldemort was around. Malfoy was evil but not-giving-you-pains-in-the-scar- evil!

The only explanation he could think of was that Voldemort was either using Polyjuice Potion to disguise himself as one of them, which was not likely. But if that was true, then it would explain Malfoy's weird behavior.

He'd have to sort it out tomorrow. But what was he supposed to say to him? He couldn't just walk in and say, "Hi Professor. Just wanted to tell you that everything's fine except that every time I see Malfoy Or Ginny I happen to get dizzy and faint. But it's nothing to really worry about" That would sound perfect, he thought, bitterly.

"You just had a stroke, Potter." She had said, when asked what was wrong with him. That's what she thought.

Making up his mind, the prospect of staying another few hours in the hospital wing didn't look so bad. He wished Ron and Hermione would come and visit him, though. Madame Pomfrey said that they both had come separately and had left after 10 minutes when he was still asleep.

He was hurt, when he heard that. Ron and Hermione always came together and even if he was unconscious or asleep they would have stayed longer. "I had to make them leave! You might have woken," was her reply upon seeing his downcast face.

Harry shifted on his side and glanced at the wall clock hanging just opposite his bed. Dinner was over. He was about to draw the curtains again when he heard Madame Pomfrey's distinctive voice.

"No, you can not see him"

"But why not?" Hermione demanded She was standing with her arms crossed and looking fervently at Ron, who was standing beside her.

"He needs his rest," she said firmly. "You two will get him all worked up again."

"Bloody Hell! We're his friends and what's wrong with him, anyway?" That was Ron in his angry voice.

"He had a stroke and watch your tongue, young man!"

Harry sat upright on the bed, which must have squeaked it's hinges and made an audible creek, for all three of them were staring at him.

"Er...I'm awake. Can I ple-um -" He hardly finished his sentence when Hermione squealed "Harry!" and threw her arms around him, cutting off his oxygen intake.

"Her-mione," he said, gruffly. "You're choking me!"

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said while wiping her eyes with her sleeve. Ron walked over to Harry, and before giving Hermione a disgusted look, asked, "How are you feeling Harry?"

"Oh, I'm fine" he said straightening up and adjusting his hospital smock.

"I'm glad" There was an awkward silence, which followed afterwards.

"What happened Harry?" said Hermione, once she was sure Madame Pomfrey had gone.

Harry ushered them in; Hermione sat at the foot of his bed and Ron on the other side.

He told them the whole story, all the while fidgeting with his fingers. After telling them about his decision to see Dumbledore, he looked at them guiltily, abandoning his hands only to stick them underneath the covers.

The initial reaction he got was unexpected. Hermione looked very hurt while Ron looked so angry, Harry was afraid he might do something stupid for a moment.

"You could have told us," Hermione said quietly. "We've never let you down before, Harry. What made you think we would now?" It made Harry's heart wrench to hear those words. Hermione looked as though he had just slapped her.

"That's not it!" he cried indignantly. "Ron you understand, don't you?"

But Ron looked at Hermione and then gave Harry an I-don't-Know look.

"I didn't want to ruin everything! We were all finally happy, nothing was wrong. No strange and life-risking adventures, no constant fear of Voldem-"

"Are you mad Harry?" Ron finally spoke. "Voldemort's still out there and no doubt he's planning to kill you. How can you say there was no constant fear, or is no constant fear?"

"It's been two years Ron! Not a word, if my scar pains mean that Voldemort's going to attack, I wanted to be sure first." As much as he wanted to, Harry couldn't deny that Ron was right. He would have to face this eventually. His parents did, and so would he.

Ron sobered up and removed all traces of concern from his face. "OK Harry."

"What I don't understand," said Hermione, "Is how Ginny or Malfoy are involved in all of this"

"I wish I knew," replied Harry, glad with the topic change. "But I am definitely going to see Dumbledore, tomorrow"

"All right. I've let you see him long enough," said Mme Pomfrey, pulling aside the curtains.

"Bye Harry," bid Hermione before she left, while Ron simply nodded, falling into step behind her.

After making Harry drink a horrid tasting potion, Mme Pomfrey left. With a sigh, Harry turned onto his side and hoped with all his might that tomorrow might be a better day then the last.

~*~*~