Twist of Fate

Ginny Weasley sighed and rubbed her temples. She glanced at her watch. It was almost two in the morning and she hadn't finished her Muggle Studies homework. In fact, she hadn't even started her Muggle Studies homework.

She glanced wearily down at the parchment that was stretched across the table in front of her. So far, she had written only two things on the parchment. The first read: Explain how the discovery of electricity has impacted the lives of Muggles today. The second read: The discovery of electricity today has made several differences in-- and that was as far as she had gotten.

With a groan of despair, Ginny laid her head on the table, and then sat up again with a cry of dismay when she realized that she had smudged her practically non-existent essay, and gotten ink all over her cheek.

Fighting back angry tears, Ginny made her way to the bathroom. She fumbled with the door, nearly tripping over a hairbrush that someone (Lavender) had left on the floor.

She glanced in the mirror as she splashed cold water over her head. Her unruly hair had come out of its bun, and was hanging around her face in straggly tendrils. She had bags under her eyes, and her cheeks were pale from lack of sleep.

She stuck out her tongue at the mirror who was snickering about her appearance, and stomped out of the bathroom. But she could not bring herself to return to the table where her papers were scattered. Instead, she collapsed on one of the overstuffed armchairs that resided in the Common Room. Instinctively, she snuggled down into the soft upholstery, her arms curling to encircle her knees.

Her mind screamed at her, telling her that she couldn't fall asleep now, and to get up right away and finish her homework. The other side of her mind quickly shut up the sensible side, and Ginny's eyes closed.

***

Ginny awoke the next morning to someone shaking her roughly. She opened her eyes blearily and found herself looking into Harry's face. His forehead was creased in concern and his voice still scratchy with sleep.

"Gin? You okay?"

Ginny started a little. It took her a moment to remember how to speak. When she finally found her voice, her words came out as a croak. "I'm fine--" she cleared her throat, "I--I must have fallen asleep." Then, as she glanced at the table littered with parchment and books, she clapped a hand to her forehead. "Son of a--I didn't finish my homework!"

She jumped up from her chair. Harry didn't get out of the way fast enough, and her elbow connected painfully with his head.

They collected Ginny's papers, each muttering darkly and rubbing their wounded appendages. Before they left for the Great Hall to eat breakfast, Harry pulled her over by the entrance to the common room.

"Are you sure you're okay, Gin?" His green eyes were probing as they gazed into her sleepy brown ones.

She looked away, embarrassed by the extended eye contact. "Yeah, I'll be fine."

She pushed open the portrait-door and set off down the corridor. Harry hesitated for a moment before following her, walking quickly to catch up.

***

Draco Malfoy was in a foul mood. His father had sent him a letter that morning saying that a chance fire had unluckily consumed his collection of silk ties. He scowled at his toast, glad that the other Slytherins knew to leave him alone when he was pouting. Except for...

"Good morning, Draco!" squealed Pansy. She didn't wait for a response, only pulled up a chair in order to sit directly across from him. Draco glared at her and went back to staring at his toast.

Not discouraged in the least, Pansy began to recount one of her late night encounters with Marcus Flint. Draco, who had no interest in the love life of his Quidditch captain tuned out Pansy's voice, and stared moodily around the Great Hall.

He was just watching Colin Creevy stuff a sausage down the back of Eloise Midgen's sweater when two people walked in, catching his attention immediately. Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter entered the Great hall from the corridor that led to the Gryffindor common room. Draco noticed with great pleasure, that Ginny's hair was mussed, and she had some ink by her left ear.

She looked around the Great Hall sleepily as Harry steered her to a seat near to the end of the table. Ginny was facing Draco, but looking at Harry. Harry leaned in and whispered something pointing down the table to where Ginny's brother Ron was sitting with Hermione Granger. Apparently, Potter had made some kind of joke, because Ginny burst out laughing.

Watching her laugh, Draco couldn't stop a small smile from flitting across his own face. Then he caught himself, and the smile faded quickly as he turned to face Pansy again. To Draco's annoyance, she had been nibbling away at his toast, smearing her lipstick, and was still talking about Flint.

"Pansy, I'd love to hear the rest of this later, but can you excuse me?" Draco interrupted when Pansy finally stopped to catch her breath. Getting up from the table, Draco couldn't help but kick her sharply in the shins. She winced a little, looking confused.

"Ow! Draco, where are you--"

Draco walked away and the rest of her words were lost in the babble of voices that filled the Great Hall. He could feel her disappointed eyes following him as he walked towards the Slytherin common room. He passed just close enough to the Gryffindor table to hear a small giggle from Ginny, who was still laughing at Harry's joke, and then passed through the door to the dark corridor.

The door closed behind him, cutting off all noise from the Great Hall, and Draco's breath hitched a little at the sudden quiet that filled his ears.

He stopped for a moment and leaned his back against the cool, stone, wall. He was feeling feverish for some reason. He supposed it could have something to do with shock. He had been rather fond of his collection of silk ties.

In a daze, he concluded that he should go and see Madame Pomfrey. What happened next was a blur. He pushed himself away from the wall a little too hard, and the momentum tipped him over, toppling him down a flight of stairs. He lay at the bottom, completely confused as to how he had gotten there, and then he blacked out.

***

Ginny Weasley was still smiling when she left the Great Hall to go to her Potions class. She waved goodbye to Harry who was heading the opposite direction for Care of Magical Creatures. She took the long way to the dungeons, choosing to walk through the corridors that the Slytherins used regularly instead of the wider, better-lit upper hallways of the school.

She squinted in the darkness. Was there something lying at the foot of the stairs? Her heart quickened its pace slightly as she slowly approached dark shape on the floor.

Suddenly, Ginny sat down hard on the stairs. The dark shape on the floor was something she recognized, or rather, someone she recognized.

Draco Malfoy was lying on the stone floor. Something dark was pooling under his head. His skin was pale and clammy, and he looked like he could be dead.

Ginny reached out hesitantly and touched his cheek. It was cold. Suddenly, Ginny pushed herself away from Malfoy's inert body. Her back hit the wall and she curled up on the floor with her arms over hear head.

"Oh God," she whispered, "Oh God, not again."

***