Morality

(6) Speak No Evil

Ginny gritted her teeth as she watched Malfoy retreat up the stairs, his feet hitting each one heavily. He had no right to explode on her like that. It wasn't her fault no one trusted him; that was most certainly his own doing. If he hadn't been such a wretched person and betrayed every person within a hundred feet (more probably, within a few kilometers, but Ginny was in a generous mood), Malfoy might not have had such a bad time. Ginny still couldn't help but feel slightly guilty at the fact that it was her eavesdropping that caused him to overhear what they had said about him. If she hadn't let him listen with her, he wouldn't have heard...but it wouldn't have made any difference, she reminded herself. He had known beforehand that he was neither well-liked, nor trusted.

She sank lower on the couch, sighing. This summer had turned out to be a fairly unpleasant endeavor, especially with Malfoy's anger running rampant. At school, she had at least managed to avoid him most of the time. It was made easier by the fact that he hated her brother so much, Malfoy rarely could spare the attention to pay her any mind. But now, what with her mother's attempts to have Ginny make peace with him, and Malfoy's increasingly foul mood, Ginny felt she was likely to burst at any moment.

Instead, she tried to content herself with just sitting, allowing herself to sink into her thoughts. But just as she managed to relax a little, she was disturbed again, this time by Mrs. Weasley.

"Ginny," her mother called from the kitchen. "Could you come in here for a moment? I'd like a word."

"Not again," Ginny groaned, rising, despite her every inclination to stay seated and pretend to be deaf. Mrs. Weasley called her again from where she was sitting at the table beside Remus Lupin. He watched Ginny expectantly as she walked into the room.

"Well, sit down, sit down," Mrs. Weasley instructed.

"So," Lupin began awkwardly, "I realize that Draco Malfoy is the last person you want to spend your summer with. However," he paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, "the Order has decided that we need one of you children to keep an eye on him. A child, mind you, not just a member of the Order. Moody and Tonks will start their watch schedule tomorrow, so you needn't worry about stopping any danger, should it arise, but...we realize that we need someone Draco's own age to keep him in check, find out what he's up to."

"No," Ginny said flatly. "I won't do it."

"Ginny," her mother started. "You will."

"I most certainly will not."

"You will."

"Absolutely not."

"This matter is not up for discussion. Ron and Hermione have more important things to deal with, you know. They're coming up on a very important time, and by doing this, you can help the Order."

"Don't try to sell me on this. Malfoy's scum," argued Ginny.

Lupin nodded, leaning closer to Ginny and lowering his voice to a conspiritorial tone. "That may well be true, but it would be so helpful if you could get close to him. Find out more about his reasons for coming to us. I know that he's not telling us the complete truth. Don't you see it too?"

"It's not as if I like you doing this," admitted Mrs. Weasley quietly. "If it might put you in any danger, I would prefer you didn't. Even though you don't understand yet why you must, you must do this."

"Fine," Ginny consented wearily. "Only, I have to get something out of it. There's no way I'm spending my summer entertaining that horrible cretin without some sort of consolation."

Remus and Mrs. Weasley exchanged looks. Lupin ran a hand through his gray-streaked hair, looking uncomfortable. "What do you have in mind, exactly?" her old professor questioned.

"I'm not sure yet. Give me some time to think." She stood, about to leave, but her mother called her back.

"Where are you going?"

"To do like you asked. I'm going to try to make...er...peace."

Ginny turned and headed up the stairs. She had no idea where he had gone off to, but as she started up the last flight of stairs, she found herself immediately confronted by Malfoy's cold eyes. He peered down at her from the top landing, looking suspicious. "What?" he asked accusingly. "Come to take a jab at me, perhaps?"

Shrugging, Ginny went to sit beside him. He made room for her, his face stony and unbetraying of his emotions. "Look. You may or may not be evil; I don't know for certain. But I suppose that it's unfair of me to judge you without even really knowing you. I guess that if I got to know you, it would..." she faded off, her face contorted as she struggled for words. "It would make things easier -- for the both of us."

His face remained untelling. "You think it's as easy as that?"

"I was rather hoping it was. Isn't it?" Ginny asked hopefully.

Malfoy shook his head. "I'm a rather difficult person to get along with," he conceded. "Let alone get to know. Is that something you really want to attempt?"

She pressed her palms against her eyes, blacking everything out except for the shooting stars that flickered underneath her eyelids. He was right -- he was one of the least friendly people Ginny had ever met -- and she didn't really want to get to know him at all. It's for the Order, she reminded herself. And more importantly, it was for Harry.

"Yeah. I'm willing to try it."

"Oh great," he said, his voice holding only slight traces of sarcasm. "What would you like to know, exactly?"

Unthinking, she asked the first thing that popped into her head. "What's it like to be you? You know, to act like you do...'I'm the best, the richest--"

"As well as the most powerful and most good-looking," he teased, flashing her a cunning smile. Then, he looked at her sideways, considering her seriously. "I'm not sure you're ready to know what it's like to be inside my head."

"Try me," she urged.

After a moment, he said, "It's hard to explain, but I suppose it's rather like being in a constant battle. Because part of me wants to hate this place, the Order, everyone in it -- that's the part of me that's too closely related to my father. The rest of me would rather get along with everyone. Obviously, the first part of me wins most of the time."

"I could guess," said Ginny, laughing quietly. "You're pretty rude."

"Oh, thanks."

"No problem. Honesty's a virtue, you know."

"No, actually. Virtues are pointless expectations that no one can ever hope to meet. Not even you, despite all your attempts to be perfect." His voice held traces of bitterness.

"Why are you like this?" asked Ginny.

"Like what?" he shot back.

She gestured at him. "How you put down everything that might suggest that you could be a good person. Do you honestly believe there's all that bad in the world?"

"Not particularly. I just know there's not nearly enough good to fight it." He moved to lean against the bannister, one leg resting on the next stair down, his other extended lazily. Ginny watched him, his elegant movements managing to make her quite envious of his form -- which, she realized, was probably his intention. Malfoy looked at her, his eyes scanning over her face intently. "You should understand what I mean. Tom Riddle possessed you, after all. You, at least, must know how powerful he is. And he's gotten stronger since then -- since the diary."

Ginny felt her insides twist at the mention of his name. She blinked a few times, trying to clear her mind of the terrible memories she had of him. "Have you so little faith in the Order's power?"

"Yes," he answered levelly.

"Then why are you here?"

Draco lowered his gaze to the carpet, in such a way that Ginny almost would have thought him human for a moment. Quietly, he answered, "That's not for me to say. Perhaps you can figure it out."

"What about Harry? You hate him, I know, but do you doubt his ability? After all that he's done, I would think he had proven himself, even to you. Besides, if you're really so innocent in all of this, you must see that he's your only hope to evade the Dark Lord. He's the only hope for any of us to outlast this."

"I don't doubt Potter's courage, only his power. What use are morals against the most evil wizard ever known to Britain?"

"They're of more use than cowardice," she retorted. "They're more useful than any dark spell you could conjure. Harry is powerful in that he is good. There's not a single thing he's done that hasn't been--"

Malfoy silenced her with a sharp look. "You see Potter in the light you choose. I see him in a completely different way than you do. I would enlighten you, but I'd prefer to keep my face intact. Your hexes are ones to be avoided, apparently."

Ignoring his attempt at turning the conversation to another matter, she pressed on, now not even thinking about the fact that she had to be forced into this. "You don't see him, not really. All you see is what he's done to you, and all that he's done to you is give you exactly what you deserve."

Draco measured her with his eyes, as if he could penetrate her eyes and break into her thoughts. Ginny didn't look away, instead staring back just as fiercely. "And what, exactly, do you think I deserve?"

Standing, she looked down at him scornfully. "I think you deserve a hell of a lot worse than you've got currently. That's the good thing about the world though. It's unfair. This way, bad people can get the chance to do good things."

He rose from the floor. Ginny could feel her instincts telling her to leave, right this second, get away from him. She forced those thoughts down and stood her ground. His presence was considerably more imposing now that he was standing. Ginny watched him cautiously. Draco tilted his head to the side, his face impassive. He was too close to her, she realized. This was wrong, too wrong. She felt like a rat trapped in a corner. Ginny took a step back and stumbled slightly. He gave a low laugh, his mouth curled up in his characteristic smirk.

"Maybe you do know what's good for you," he said quietly, before leaving her on the landing, confused to no end. No matter what anyone said, Ginny knew the truth. There was as much a chance for her to become close to Malfoy as there was for Hermione to start up a torrid love affair with Pigwidgeon.

Ginny tried to shake off the lingering feeling of danger, heading to her brother's room where Hermione and Ron were, supposedly, doing research. She knocked, and the door opened only a crack. Hermione stuck her head out, glancing around the empty hall. Then she let Ginny in.

"Yes?" Hermione gave Ginny an impatient look.

"I was just going to see if there was anything I could help you with."

"Did you finish that book I gave you?"

"Erm. No." Ginny squirmed awkwardly under Hermione's demanding gaze.

Ron scowled darkly. "Don't bother asking us for something to do if you haven't even finished the first thing we gave you."

"Be quiet, Ron. What are you doing, other than sitting on your lazy arse and watching her do all the work?" Ginny scoffed.

Jutting his chin out defiantly, Ron retorted, "I've been doing plenty, thank you very much. I'm plenty capable making notes and such. It's none of your business what I do, besides. Now get out and go read that book or something. Better yet, go entertain Malfoy and keep him away from our door. Or, rather, don't, so I can watch him get his leg chewed off by Crookshanks."

Unsure of what to make of Ron's comment about Hermione's cat, Ginny put it aside. Sighing, she decided to try to be civil. "Do you realize that you are the third person today to suggest I go make good with Malfoy? I agreed to it the first time because I absolutely had to; I tried to manage it, but I've come to the conclusion that it just won't happen. Have you realized how terribly unfriendly he is? Even just being around him makes me want to, want to...ugh. I can't even find the words to describe the level of disgust I have for him."

"He is horrible," Hermione agreed, "but you really must feel sorry for him. After all, his father is..."

"A raving lunatic, that's what he is. Or, at least, he will be if he ever gets out of Azkaban. In the end, I guess Lucius Malfoy always was a bit off his rocker, but now that he's been sitting around with Dementors, well, you never know what it might have done to his brain," Ron said. "Maybe it's addled him even further!"

"I'm sure Lucius Malfoy is quite the same as he was before. The Dementors are gone from the prison. Remember, Ron?"

"Oh." Ron's face sank decidedly as he considered the prospect. "Right. Well, I'm trying to help you study, and I can't do that and keep up with the current events too. It's just too much to take in."

"It's fine. The Dementors are the least of our problems. Look, Ginny, I know how bored you are, and that spending time with Malfoy seems really unappealing. If you can't manage that today, just have a look at the book I gave you, alright?"

Hermione looked at her hopefully, and Ginny agreed sullenly. She went to her room to get the book, but halfway down the hall, she felt a slight breeze from the room where Bill slept. This gave her pause for thought, and she decided to see what was causing the phenomenon. Peering in, she saw Fleur standing above Bill's sleeping body, her hands moving in rapid circles in the air above his body. Ginny watched, almost as if she were entranced, as the other girl's hands flew in a wild dance, her face still and focused. Fleur did not seem to see anything other than Bill, nor did she seem to notice Ginny's presence at the door. Her eyes seemed to emanate a bright metallic light, but Ginny tried to put it off as her imagination. The breeze she had felt earlier seemed to be coming from Fleur herself; it stirred her hair and the open pages of a book on Bill's bedside table. Ginny didn't understand quite what was happening, but she knew enough to stay quiet.

Then, there was a small burst of light, and Fleur sank onto the bed beside Bill, looking inexplicably tired. She swept her hand across his forehead, pulling his hand to her lips and kissing it gently. As much as Ginny hated Fleur, she cared for Bill, and that was what he needed. Greyback's attack had weakened him to the point where he had slept more often than he had been awake, and very little could be done to help him. Bill had, however, been getting steadily better. That was the only reason the wedding plans were still on.

Ginny wondered if this might be what seemed to be helping him: this veela-magic Fleur seemed to have been weaving with all of her strength. She realized suddenly that she was committing a severe intrusion on their privacy; Ginny started to back up, but just as she did, Fleur saw her. She stood, looking imperious.

"What are you staring at, you silly girl?" she hissed angrily.

"Nothing, I just...I came to check on Bill. And..." Ginny was blushing furiously, her cheeks as red as her hair.

"And what, exactly?"

"I saw you, doing that thing. Whatever it was."

Fleur did a head-toss, her hair cascading over her shoulders in white waves and her face carrying every bit the fierce intensity she'd possessed earlier. "Rusalka zagavory," Fleur said, her accent becoming more pronounced. "You wouldn't understand eet, as eet ees far too complicated for someone so young."

"What does it do?"

"A little to help ze pain. Zere ees no cure I could give. A full veela, maybe, could do more good. As eet ees, I can only do a very little."

"Does my mum know?" asked Ginny cautiously.

Fleur drew herself up to her full height. "Does eet matter? I am his fiancée. Your mother does not 'ave to know everything I do."

Ginny shook her head. "I was just wondering. If you don't want me to tell her, I won't."

The other girl nodded, before waving Ginny out of the room. For the second time, she was left baffled and alone. Without the slightest idea what to do with the rest of her afternoon, Ginny considered having a go at reading "Ancient Studies of the Dark Arts". She returned to her room, ready to read, only to find that there was a familiar owl sitting on her bed, its white feathers slightly ruffled, as if by wind. Several envelopes were attached to its foot, and Ginny set about pulling them off.

"So, you finally brought some news of him, did you?" she asked the bird. Hedwig hooted loudly. "Wait here."

Ginny took the letter that had her name scribbled across the front and jammed it into her back pocket. Flicking through the rest of the letters, she saw that two were addressed to Hermione and Ron, respectively, and one was for Mrs. Weasley. She resisted the urge to read her letter immediately and went to deliver the rest of them. Ron and Hermione seemed agitated when she first knocked, but warmed considerably as soon as she gave them their letters from Harry. As Ginny jogged down the stairs to give the last one to her mother, she was confronted with the sight of Malfoy, his mouth contorted in a scowl that was pointedly directed at the fireplace. Ginny shrugged it off and handed the envelope to her mother, who was cooking and performing several other household chores all at the same time.

"Wonderful!" exclaimed Mrs. Weasley, nearly dropping the cooking pan she was levitating across the rooom. Ginny laughed and returned to her room, ripping the letter open as she went. Hedwig sat on her bed, looking rather impatient for a bird, and she shooed her off to go get Ron and Hermione's replies. Hedwig flew out the window, and Ginny sat at the foot of her bed, reading:

Dear Ginny,

Sorry I haven't been able to write before now. I was going to, but the Dursleys have started paying more attention to me, and...it's not exactly a welcome change.

How's your summer going? Ron and Hermione said you had gone to stay with the twins. That must've been loads of fun. It's got to be better than here, anyway.

Oh well. I should probably be going, seeing as the Dursleys are shouting at me from downstairs. Hope to see you soon.

Love,

Harry.

Ginny felt oddly disappointed. He hadn't said anything about...well, anything. Except for the bit about "Love, Harry," Ginny didn't feel she had gotten much out of his missive. She tried to content herself with the knowledge that she would be seeing him soon, but it didn't seem to help her state.

So she put the letter aside, deciding that she wouldn't write him back just yet. Instead, she picked up the dark arts book and began to read.