Downfall

Downfall

Ginny tapped her foot impatiently, wondering how much longer this was going to take.

Merlin, I wish I was never made Prefect. I could be doing my Charms essay, or having a nice bath, or best of all, sleeping. No, instead I have the distinct displeasure of being in the cold, dank, depressing dungeons. Thanks so much, 4th years, you swotty little bastards.

She tucked her hair behind her ear for what seemed the thousandth time, wishing she had brought a hair tie down with her. She glanced suspiciously over at her ex-boyfriend, Michael Corner, the other Prefect overseeing this joyous little party with her. Ever since Cho Chang had finished her 7th year, Michael Corner had been staring at Ginny and volunteering to partner her on their nightly rounds. Not amusing to Ginny's way of thinking, but he wasn't really doing anything, so she just sighed in annoyance and held her tongue.

Apparently, the 4th year Potions class of Slytherins and Gryffindors had sniped at each other a little too much before sitting an exam, and Snape had assigned the lot of them to detention that night, even the Slytherins. He sat at the front of the room behind his desk, head bent over a roll of parchment, scribbling as fast as his hand could write, greasy black hair obscuring his face from view. The directions for the potion the class was to make were on the board behind him, and it was Ginny and Michael's job to ensure everyone minded their manners.

Low murmurs, the bubbling of cauldrons and the scratching of Snape's quill were the only sounds in the oppressive room for several minutes, lulling Ginny into a daze. A noise to her left startled her. The door swung inward with a groan as Draco Malfoy strode in, Head Boy badge gleaming on his robes.

He paused as he surveyed the room, and seeing her glare, raised a brow. With a jaunty little salute that only furthered her ire, he wove his way to the front of the room, pausing to converse with a Slytherin here and there.

"Mr Malfoy, I hope you have a reason to be disrupting this detention?" Snape demanded.

"Yes, sir. There is a House matter that requires your guidance. May I have a moment?"

A movement at the corner of her eye caught Ginny's attention. Dennis Creevey was turned toward her with his hand raised. The little dark-haired girl at the table behind him, who, if Ginny was not mistaken, was Ivy, Pansy Parkinson's little sister, said something to cause his face to darken with anger. He said something back as he made a rude gesture at her, and turned his eyes to Ginny as she walked over to his table.

"Ginny, the directions say three scarab beetles, but not how they're prepared. Does Professor Snape mean for us to use powdered, crushed or ground?"

Ginny turned to the blackboard, reviewing in her mind the steps for a Wit-Sharpening Potion. She told Dennis to come over to the student stores cupboard, and she would give him clues.

Ivy Parkinson saw this as her chance to modify that Mudblood Creevey's behaviour. Speaking to her like that! Really, he needed to be reminded of his place. Glancing around, she saw that the Weasley cow still had him at the cupboard, and the other Prefect was staring in the opposite direction. Professor Snape and Malfoy were engrossed in their conversation, so Ivy slowly drew her wand out of her rucksack.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" she whispered, holding her wand as low as possible.

The beaker of armadillo bile next to Creevey's cauldron rose quickly into the air, tilting precariously. She righted it, positioned it over the cauldron, and tipped it in.

BOOM! A deafening noise rocked the room, thick with the sound of shattering glass, as a sickening yellow mist settled over everything.

Ginny was thrown forward into the cupboard by the blast, feeling Dennis' slight frame fall across her legs. She rolled to her side and palmed her wand, groping around for his arm.

"Dennis," she gasped, "are you all right?"

"I-I think so. You?"

Ginny nodded, pushing herself to her feet. She began to move to the nearest students, checking for any injuries.

"WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS?!" Snape bellowed.

As the mist lessened, she could see Snape standing next to his desk, which unfortunately now only had three legs and a large hole where the fourth corner should have been. His face suffused with unnatural colour, he howled, "MY CLASSROOM IS UTTERLY DESTROYED! WHO? I WANT TO KNOW WHO DID THIS, RIGHT NOW DAMMIT! I WILL HAVE YOU EXPELLED FOR THIS, I SWEAR IT!"

Michael Corner had picked himself up as well, a slice of ginger root sticking to the side of his neck. "Professor, shouldn't we make sure everyone is okay first?"

"I DON'T GIVE A BLOODY DAMN IF THESE... THINGS, ARE OKAY! I WANT ANSWERS!"

Ginny continued around the room as Michael muttered the incantation to dissipate the remaining mist. Miraculously, no one looked to be seriously injured. A few scrapes and bruises seemed to be the extent of it, and most of those were owned by Ivy Parkinson, who was bawling her eyes out. Ginny thought she had found the culprit. She was making her way to the front of the room to try to calm the apoplectic-looking Snape down when she tripped over a foot.

"Oh Merlin! Professor, it's Malfoy, sir!"
He lay on his side, surrounded by an half-dozen shattered jars, with a pool of blood oozing steadily around his shoulder. A large shard of glass was sticking obscenely out of his upper chest. Ginny was shrugging out of her robes as Snape reached them.

"WHOEVER CAUSED THIS IS DEAD!" he roared. "Corner! Go fetch Madam Pomfrey. Tell her it's an emergency, and to hurry. The rest of you, go directly to the Headmaster's Office and wait for a staff member to admit you. Do not leave until I arrive. I will have the wand of the person or persons responsible. Now get out!"

Ginny sank to her knees next to Malfoy's head, her discarded robes in a pile next to her. She knew he was still alive, as his chest was rising and falling, but she feared the situation could change any minute; there was so much blood, and it was spreading rapidly.

"Malfoy! Can you hear me? Malfoy!" she cried, an edge of hysteria slipping into her voice.

A loud groan, and then, "I'm bleeding, Weasley, not deaf."

"Are you alright, Mr Malfoy?" queried Snape.

She noted that Snape actually appeared concerned. Well, there's a first time for everything. I suppose it wouldn't do to have the first Slytherin Head Boy in, what, fifty-three years, die from wounds received in his Head of House's classroom. Looks bad on the references.

Malfoy, in his customary dry drawl replied, "Oh yes, think I'll have myself a stroll round the lake now. No, it bloody hurts!"

Ginny carefully grasped his upper body with one hand, and whilst cradling his head with the other, rolled him onto his back. She held him up and wriggled herself, cross-legged, beneath his neck, supporting his head in her lap.

"Does that help a bit? Are you more comfortable?" Ginny handed her robes to Snape. "Here, Professor. We can use these to stem the bleeding."

Snape withdrew his wand and performed a Severing Charm to slice the robe into more manageable strips, handing them off to Ginny as he went. "Here, hold these to the wound. Pressure is imperative, Miss Weasley."

She carefully wadded a few strips around the jagged edges of the glass and pressed down, knowing how much it had to hurt.

"Evil wench," Malfoy hissed. She pressed just the tiniest bit harder, out of spite. "Dammit! That hurts! Leave off, Weasley, before I-"

Madam Pomfrey bustled in, skirts swirling around her. "Professor, what on earth happened? Mr Corner was gibbering about an explosion and Mr Malfoy... Oh my!"

She rushed over to them, unmindful of the blood beginning to stain the hem of her clothes. "Never mind now, that can wait. Let me see, dear."

Ginny leant back, and began to smooth the hair off Malfoy's forehead absently. She made soft, soothing noises in the back of her throat like her Mum used to when Ginny was small, stroking his hair and temple as Madam Pomfrey prodded at the glass with her wand.

Malfoy grunted in pain as Madam Pomfrey sat back and began rolling her sleeves up and over her elbows.

"That has to come out now. I can't put him on a stretcher with it imbedded like that; if he's jostled it may pierce his lung. Professor Snape, Miss Weasley, I'm going to need your help to hold him still for this. Professor, please keep his abdomen as steady as possible. Miss Weasley, take his shoulders."

Malfoy, who was very pale now and trembling lightly, laughed, "Careful down there, Professor. The ladies will never forgive you if there's any collateral damage."

Ginny looked at Madam Pomfrey and rolled her eyes as she sweetly countered, "Oh dear, he's growing delusional. Must be from losing so much blood. Hurry, Madam Pomfrey, hurry!"

Malfoy, indignant, rolled his head back to give her the dressing-down she so richly deserved. And, quite inelegantly, began to splutter.

"Bloody hell, Weasley! Who knew you were hiding those under your robes! No wonder your freak of a brother acts like a rampaging manticore when anyone with a Y-chromosome looks in your general direction." Pausing thoughtfully for a moment, he continued. "They HAVE to be real; your family is too poor to feed themselves, let alone pay for-"

"One more word, Malfoy, and I will personally see that piece of glass into your lung."

Dryly, Snape commented, "I think it would serve the Head Boy well to recall the decorum expected of his position."

Malfoy, with a wicked look of pleasure, replied, "Funny you should mention position, sir. Personally, I find my current one-"

"Mr Malfoy!" Madam Pomfrey screeched, horrified. "I never! Cease your prattle this instant!"

"Hell, I can't even finish a proper thought around here," Malfoy complained bitterly, his eyes slightly unfocussed and a faint gleam of sweat coating his brow.

Madam Pomfrey positioned herself next to him after casting a quick Purification Charm on the strips of Ginny's robes. "Hold him," she commanded. "Oh please, Miss Weasley," she scoffed, "put some muscle in it, girl! You're a quidditch player, for Merlin's sake."

Ginny, thoroughly embarrassed and brilliantly red from neck to hairline, leant down, placed her elbows directly on the front of Malfoy's shoulders and grasped each arm firmly at the elbow. She looked to Madam Pomfrey to see if this was sufficient, when-

"Mmph mmphh bwaff!!"

She released him and sat up quickly. "What?"

Malfoy, grinning widely (he knows how to grin?!) and looking completed unhinged, shouted, "I say! Capital idea, Madam Pomfrey. Brilliant way to go, really, suffocated between two luscious breasts. Professor Snape, see that my tombstone is inscribed with that." He began to snicker, interspersed with gasps of pain from laughing.

The other three looked at one another. Simultaneously, Ginny and Snape pinned Malfoy down.

"One, two, three!"

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

"Quickly now, those robes!" Madam Pomfrey pressed them to his chest and grabbed her wand, casting a Binding Spell to hold them in place. Ginny looked back down. Malfoy was now completely devoid of all colour, his sharp features pinched with pain. She smoothed his hair again. His eyes closed and his face momentarily relaxed. He enjoys having his hair stroked, she thought. Interesting. I would have taken him for the don't-touch-me-you-might-ruin-my-perfection sort.

"Poor thing," she murmured.

"Offering to kiss it better?" he smirked half-heartedly, looking very wan.

Madam Pomfrey, finished removing the blood from her hands, conjured a stretcher and magicked Malfoy onto it. "Okay, Mr Malfoy, up you get. Let's move to the hospital wing and get you cleaned up."

"Unghhh. Am I dying, Madam Pomfrey?" he gasped.

"No, just being as melodramatic as ever, I'm afraid." Ginny giggled at that, ignoring the dark look Snape shot her when she did.

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "I'll have you put to rights by tomorrow, but you'll need to stay abed in your dormitory for a day or so. Professor Snape, would you be so kind as to gather together a few clothes and toiletries for his overnight stay?"
"Can't. I need to go see the Headmaster and deal with the students that started this fiasco. Miss Weasley will do it-"

"No! I mean, I can't, I-"

Snape just continued to talk right over her, matching the rising pitch of her voice with an increase in volume of his own.

"- hallway to your left, three intersections down, left again. You'll see a statue of Salazar Slytherin. The passcode is... Draco?"

Malfoy rolled his head towards the far wall and muttered something.

"I apologise, Mr Malfoy. I didn't quite catch that."

Malfoy turned his face towards his Head of House. "Potentium," he sighed.

"Mobilicorpus," Madam Pomfrey commanded with a flick of her wand. Both she and the stretcher-bound Malfoy began to move towards the door.

"Cheers for ditching the robes, Weasley. It was definitely my pleasure," he called back.

Madam Pomfrey sqeaked indignantly and began to loudly and vigorously berate him for his "incorrigible behaviour and utterly unacceptable comments... proper, good young witches... foul-mouthed boys... never married... better breeding than that... mother appalled..."

Snape sniggered as he moved towards the door himself. "Woman is a veritable harpy when her 'sensibilities' have been offended. Off with you then." Ginny stared at him.

He was being almost civil.

Must have gotten coshed by a jar in the explosion.

He stopped and looked round at his shambles of a classroom. "Bloody little menaces, the lot of them," he muttered. "I ought to quit before one of the incompetent little bastards manages to kill me. Weasley! Move it! Out!" He sighed, his shoulders slumped wearily. "I'll deal with this mess later."