Twist of Fate

It was Blaise Zabini who had discovered Draco Malfoy lying on the stairs. Her heart had stopped for a moment when she first laid eyes on him. His hair was fanned out around his head, and his lips were slightly parted. A trickle of blood was on his chin, and there was more blood in his hair. He looked beautiful. Dead, but beautiful.

Blaise bent down slowly and stroked a finger over his cheek. She was fascinated by it's softness. Her finger trailed its way down to his lips. A soft sob made her start. She snatched back her hand and stood up, wincing as she stepped on Draco's shirt, and looked around. Two eyes stared at her from somewhere near the wall of the corridor. They belonged to a small figure in black robes, curled up against the wall. Blaise recognized the vividly red hair as being a trait of the Weasley family.

"What did you do to him?" Blaise snarled.

The girl flinched at her harsh tone and curled into a tighter ball, making small noises in the back of her throat. Blaise saw that she was shivering. Disturbed, Blaise backed hastily away. It was only when her shoe made contact with Draco's arm that she remembered him, and looked away from the trembling figure on the floor. Wordlessly, she bent down to Draco, fumbling in her bag for her wand.

"Mobilicorpus" she whispered. Draco's body rose eerily from the floor to hover in front of her. Wand held in front of her, she walked him slowly down the corridor to the infirmary. The girl on the floor slowly got to her feet and followed.

***

Madam Pomfrey was surprised by the soft knock on her door. It was unusual for Hogwarts' students to be injured this early in the morning. Then again... She got up from her desk and hurried to open the door.

She was slightly taken aback at the strange sight that greeted her. Draco Malfoy was hovering in her doorway. She gasped and took a step back, surprised. Blaise poked her head around the door.

"May I come in, Madam Pomfrey?" she asked politely.

"Of-of course! Silly me! You frightened me a little bit," Madam Pomfrey stuttered. She stood back and allowed Blaise to guide Draco into the room. It was only then, as Blaise stepped inside, that Madam Pomfrey noticed that there was somebody standing quietly behind her. "Ms. Weasley?"

The figure jumped a little bit and stepped forward into the room after Blaise. Madam Pomfrey, wondering what on earth had happened, closed the door behind her.

***

"Hey, Hermione!"

Hermione stopped at the entrance to the Great Hall and waited patiently as Harry came running up, clutching his bag and panting. Her stomach swooped a little as he approached her, brushing his hair out of his startlingly green eyes.

"Hey, Harry." She smiled at him, glad that he had called out to her.

"Have you seen Ginny?" he asked immediately, his forehead creased with worry. "I usually see her on her way back from Potions," he said, his cheeks coloring slightly.

"Er--no, I haven't seen her, sorry." Hermione's stomach jerked again, this time in disappointment. Harry had become distant with her of late. She watched him though, and saw how his eyes lingered more and more on Ginny. Hermione liked the younger girl, and admired her fierce determination, but she couldn't help but feel that Ginny was stealing Harry away from her.

"Are you ok, Hermione?" Harry asked suddenly.

Hermione snapped back to reality. They were still standing outside the Great Hall, and students were pushing past them to get to lunch. She realized that she had been frowning, and immediately smoothed out the wrinkles in her forehead. "Yeah, I'll be ok. I'm just a little tired and--"

"That's good. C'mon, let's go in. Maybe Ginny'll already be there." Not waiting for an answer, Harry grabbed her arm, and dragged her into the Great Hall.

***

It was Madame Pomfrey's idea that Ginny should spend the night in the Hospital wing. The kindly witch had taken one look at Ginny, and handed her a nightgown, telling Blaise to help her get it on if she needed to. The Slytherin had looked appalled at the idea, but had drawn the curtains around the bed, and even helped her button the garment, as the girl's hands were shaking to hard to do it on her own.

Blaise didn't fool herself that she was a nice person, but she knew when she had to put aside her prejudices and do what was right. Even she, however, wondered at the tenderness with which she looked at the pale girl lying stiffly on the bed.

Madame Pomfrey bustled in then, and gave Ginny a small beaker of potion. The girl hesitated before downing the bubbling liquid, but did so without flinching. Blaise turned to leave, but the girl reached out and clutched at her arm. Her eyelids were drooping, but she still fixed Blaise with a penetrating glance that caught Blaise off-guard.

"Will you tell Harry where I am? He'll need to know," was all the girl could say before she fell into a deep sleep. Blaise nodded dumbly and left the infirmary at a run.

***

Harry quickly scanned the Gryffindor table. His heart leapt as he spotted a dash of shocking, red hair, but it was only Ron standing up and waving him over. Harry complied, still dragging a somewhat dejected Hermione behind him.

"Hi Harry. Hi Hermione. How was Arithmancy?" Ron asked, scooting over to make room for them both on the bench. Hermione made a non-committal noise and shrugged. Ron practically gaped at her. "What, was it that bad? You usually won't shut up about Arithmancy," Ron reminded her, gazing suspiciously at her from behind his glass of pumpkin juice.

"No, no," Hermione protested weakly, "It wasn't bad at all. I'm just tired, that's all." She smiled weakly at Ron who raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

"Have you seen Ginny anywhere, Ron?" Harry queried, taking advantage of the momentary lull in the conversation.

"Huh? What? Oh. No, I haven't. Not since this morning, anyhow," Ron said through a mouthful of sandwich.

"Me neither," agreed Hermione, "I saw her before Arithmancy."

Harry frowned. "I wonder where she--" he drew a sharp breath as a hand grabbed his shoulder, cutting him off mid-sentence. He looked up to find Blaise Zabini standing behind him. "Yes? What do you want?" Harry spat.

Blaise smirked, "You'd better learn to be politer, Potter. I was just going to tell you where the youngest Weasel is, but if you don't want to know..." She winked and started to walk away. She didn't get far before Harry stepped in front of her, looking peeved and a little desperate.

"Where is she? What did you do to her?" He said in a sharp whisper.

Blaise grinned dryly. "What did I say about manners, Potter?" she whispered back coyly, sidestepping him and striding more quickly to the doors that led out of the Great Hall.

Gritting his teeth, Harry walked to catch up with her. "Please, Zabini. Where is she?" His voice was still soft, though his voice cracked a little with forced politeness.

Amused, Blaise decided to string this out as long as she could. "Aren't you going to open the door for me, Potter?" she asked meaningfully.

Harry took a breath as if to keep from yelling at her, and walked stiffly past her to hold open the door to the outer corridor. People all around the hall were staring as Blaise curtsied to him and exited through the door he held for her. Harry cast an exasperated glance at Ron and Hermione before following, letting the door swing shut behind him.

Outside in the hallway Blaise was leaning against a wall. She wore an odd half-smile on her lips, as she looked Harry up and down. She was perfectly aware of how mad she was making him, and saw his hands shaking as he clenched them into fists at his sides.

"Enough of your games, Blaise. Where's Ginny?" Harry growled.

Blaise smiled again and beckoned him over. She leaned in close to his ear, and whispered, letting her breath tickle his skin, making him shiver. "The Weasel's in the Hospital Wing if you want to go get her."

"Thanks," Harry mumbled, and dashed off.

Blaise looked after him and chuckled to herself. Then she turned and walked towards the Slytherin Common Room.

***

"No. I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, but Ms. Weasley won't be seeing any visitors today. You may come back tomorrow if you wish." Harry stared desperately up at Madame Pomfrey who had positioned herself in the doorway to the Hospital wing, barring his entry. "She'll be perfectly all right, Mr. Potter, and I imagine she'll be up and about again tomorrow. She needs to rest right now."

"Of--of course, Madame Pomfrey. I'll--I'll come to see her tomorrow," Harry stuttered. He turned from the infirmary and slowly made his way down the corridor and out of sight.

Madame Pomfrey stared after him and clucked her tongue fondly. The Potter boy was so transparent sometimes.

She turned from the door, shutting it softly, and made her way to the small bed in which Ginny slept. She smoothed her hand over the girl's forehead.

The poor girl has been through too much, thought Madame Pomfrey, too much for someone of such a young age. Her heart filled with sympathy for the girl as she remembered that night, only four years ago...

***

Madame Pomfrey sighed with relief as Professor Sprout entered the room. She met the Herbology teacher's eyes, and saw that she too, was almost giddy with relief. In her hands, she held a vat of smoking potion. The mandrake restoration potion was ready, and the poor, petrified students could now be returned to full consciousness. This would mean the end of the horrible attacks that had been taking place, for surely at least one of them had seen the attackers face.

Madame Pomfrey's face fell a little bit. They had not be able to save everybody. There was the one student, Ginny Weasley that had been taken down into the Chamber of Secrets who would never return. From the look in Professor Sprout's eyes, she was thinking the same thing.

"Shall we get started then?" asked Madame Pomfrey, breaking through the silence that filled the room.

It was a long night. The potion had to be measured into exact quantities, and administered in just the right fashion for it to have the desired effect. Finally, Madame Pomfrey stared at six beakers of potion. She and Sprout stared at each other for a moment, before each taking a beaker, and moving to the bedside of one of the students.

**

"I don't know. All I remember are these big, yellow eyes, and then--"

"I saw these big, yellow eyes--"

"I was walking along and I saw these eyes--"

Madame Pomfrey was growing desperate. Half of the patients had been restored, and yet none of them seemed to remember who exactly their attacker was. At this rate, she thought almost hysterically, it'll be up to Mrs. Norris to tell us who the attacker is.

"No! A basilisk!"

Madame Pomfrey immediately rushed to the bedside of the student who cried out.

"A basilisk?" Professor Sprout was saying slowly.

"Yes!" cried the girl. She had bushy brown hair, and was sitting bolt upright in her bed, looking panicked. "Yes, it's a basilisk! And it's been using the pipes to get around the school. That's why Hagrid's chickens were killed, and that's why Harry could--" she stopped suddenly.

Madame Pomfrey and Sprout stared at her, and then at each other. Had this girl seen her attacker? Would she be the one to answer all of their questions?

"But, my dear, who is controlling the basilisk?" Madame Pomfrey managed to ask after a prolonged silence.

"I--" the girl bit her lip, "I don't know."

Madame Pomfrey stared at her for a second longer, and then nodded. She beckoned Sprout over to a corner of the infirmary where they could not be overheard by any of the students.

"It's over, isn't it, Poppy?" asked Professor Sprout.

Madame Pomfrey couldn't bring herself to answer. She covered her face with her hands. They would never know who was causing the attacks. Hogwarts would be closed, and all the students would return home. Except for--

The Hospital wing door banged open. Ron Weasley, the brother of the poor girl who had been taken into the chamber, stood in the doorway. Behind him, looking as pale as death, but definitely, solidly there, was Ginny Weasley herself.

There was a sudden rush in which Madame Pomfrey and Professor Sprout fell upon the girl, hugging her and wiping the dirt off of her face, and asking her what had happened. The girl only shook her head and cried. She seemed unable to explain any further. Finally, she was put in one of the small white beds, where she curled up on her side and shivered until Madame Pomfrey gave her a sleeping potion, which she drank gratefully.

According to Ron, the Heir of Slytherin had been caught, and Dumbledore had returned to the school. Hogwarts would not be closed, and Harry Potter had managed to rescue Ginny from the Chamber. He would not say who the Heir of Slytherin had been, and Madame Pomfrey saw how his ears grew red at the question, but didn't press him for an answer. She knew she would be told, all in good time, who the attacker was, and that they would be appropriately punished.

Afterwards, when the truth had come out, and Ginny Weasley knocked hesitantly at her door crying, and asking to forget it all, did she realize that yes, the attacker had been punished. She also knew that no forgetfulness potion could cure the girl of the evil that had touched her. Ginny Weasley would bear the scars her whole life.

***

Ginny awoke sometime in the night with a terrible, familiar fear gripping her heart. Tom. She glanced around in the darkness, half expecting to see his horrible eyes staring at her out of the darkness, but all she saw were white curtains, and she remembered where she was. She leaned back against her pillow, closing her eyes as her dream came back to her.

She had been back in the Chamber of Secrets. Tom Riddle was there. He was telling her that she had completed his work. She had killed--who was it? But the dream was slipping away from her, and after a few minutes of trying to remember, Ginny gave up, and closed her eyes again.

She was just dropping off, when a cry from across the room made her sit up again, clutching at the side of her bed. She warily pulled back the curtains around her bed. The room was dark, and her eyes strained for a moment in the darkness, before another cry drew her attention to a bed across the room from hers. Slowly, and wondering if she should call Madam Pomfrey, Ginny got to her feet and tip-toed across to the bed.

Standing over the bed, she finally recognized that it belonged to Draco Malfoy. She was about to back away again, when he whimpered, and opened his eyes. They met hers in the dark, and she suddenly found herself quite unable to move away. His eyes were not the same when they were not filled with malice, and she found herself startled to realize that she had not known before that they were an unusual shade of light grey.

"Help me," he whispered, and Ginny realized that he was still dreaming. She tried to compose herself.

"It's ok, Malfoy," she said, trying to sound comforting. "Go back to sleep now." He flinched and made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. He trashed more violently, and Ginny saw that there was sweat on his forehead. He looked up at her once again with those strange, grey eyes. Ginny was surprised at how vulnerable he looked.

"Don't leave me," he choked out.

Ginny found herself nodding. She sat down in the chair by his bed. On impulse, she reached out and took his hand, forgetting that he was a Malfoy, forgetting everything but the fact that he was a frightened child.

His fingers closed around hers, and he closed his eyes, his breath slowing again, and his thrashing subsiding. Sure that he was asleep, Ginny stood up, and made to walk away, but his grip tightened on her hand, and for fear of waking him up, Ginny sat down again.

She laid her head on his pillow, deciding sleepily that he probably wouldn't mind, seeing as he had not yet given up her hand, and fell fast asleep.