Breaking All the Rules

Chapter Nineteen

Breaking All the Rules

...Of Mine Enemy...

~*~~*~~*~

Girard Thomas was sitting on his veranda when his wife came outside sipping at her ice-tea. She looked particularly stunning today, even more so since she had been in her own home. She had been complaining lately that she did not want to be staying in Stratford-Upon-Avon anymore. His daughter, Emma, had soon afterwards joined in her mother's pleas and begun to follow her example. It was times like these he wished he was the single father of an only son.

"Horrid weather isn't it? Thank Merlin we have the proper charms to heat the place." She sat down next to him closer to the door of the living room to get more heat.

"Yes, I suppose so. It's been raining all the time here, I wonder if we should go on a holiday."

"That would be nice, as long as it's nowhere you took that girl."

"Laurie, we have been through this before. I have not had sexual relations with that woman. She was purely business to be taken care of."

"Hmm, for a whole year. You told me."

Girard rolled his eyes. "I couldn't have her telling my secrets to the ministry could I? Could I? I'm sure you wouldn't want me behind bars in Azkaban."

"I guess not." She turned to her husband. "What didn't you want her talking about?"

"Just business matters. I don't do the right thing just once in my life and I have a witness to it," he lied easily. It had become quite a habit for him these past few years. Practice makes perfect as they say.

"Well isn't that always the story. Don't worry, love, I'm sure she's out of the picture by now."

"Indeed."

"Not that it would have mattered. If she stayed any longer I would have had to come in here and tell her to piss off."

Girard smiled. "I have missed your fiery temper. You know that?"

"Well, it's what you married me for isn't it?" she smiled. "Come on inside and don't forget to close the doors, you always forget to close the doors." She shuddered. "This rain is making me feel horrid."

"You don't need rain for that sweetheart." He followed her inside, forgetting to close the doors.

***

"So that's the receipt then?" Ron said yawning as he trod downstairs sleepily glancing first at Harry then Malfoy. It still irked him, how he was now waking up to Malfoy in his home. It was not something he would have predicted in divination but he was sure as hell it would have gained full marks.

Draco looked up momentarily to see who was talking before, once again, remembering whose house he was in. "Yeah," he said laying it down on the table. He sighed and rubbed his face with his hands before drinking out of his cup of coffee.

"What's wrong with him?" Ron asked Harry gesturing to Malfoy.

Draco eyed him over his cup before swallowing. "Him, is sitting right here. You can ask me yourself." He put the cup down on the table.

They both ignored him. It had been over a day now and Malfoy was still sitting down watching the slip of paper and sighing at every given chance. If he kept this up, they were sure Ginny would gladly take the job for him. Harry answered the question for him. "He's stressing on where to get a weapon. He usually steals one of Blaise's but as you can see - You know, I'm still having a hard time wondering why you'd use a muggle weapon when you clearly can't stand them." He ignored the screeching from Ron's chair as it scratched against the floor.

Draco held the urge to roll his eyes. And looked up at him from the cradle he had made for his head with his hands. "That's how I use to feel, Potter. I've had different lessons to learn since then." He put his head back down on the table. "You're all the same to us now."

"Us?" Ron said reaching for the milk to pour in his cereal.

Draco shook his head and laughed quietly. "Weasley, you crack me up. What other 'us' could I possibly be talking about?"

"Ah. Say no more."

The room was then filled with silence. In the end it was Ron who spoke.

"You know, it's funny."

"What is?" Harry said.

"If you were to tell me that I would eventually share a comfortable silence whilst eating breakfast with Malfoy at..." he began glancing at his watch as the clock was just too far away, "ten past two in the afternoon. I'd laugh at you or punch you then laugh at you."

"Why thank you, Weasel."

"Very welcome."

Harry chuckled. "I never thought I'd break any rules with him myself."

"Break rules?" Draco said with a feigned innocence. "Moi, breaking rules?" He shook his head profusely as he got up and put his cup in the sink. "No, I merely test their elasticity." He smiled and went upstairs to get dressed.

Ten minutes after he actually got up from sitting on his bed for a half hour, he jumped out of the shower. Draco spun fast to the door as he heard someone yelling his name.

"Malfoy, you need to see this!" Harry yelled up the stairs.

"What?" he called.

"Just get down here!"

Draco dressed quickly leaving his hair to dry and ran down the stairs to the kitchen where he realised nobody was. He turned to the living room and saw everyone standing around the fireplace in silence. He stepped toward them slowly and paused when Harry and Ron moved out of the way.

"How did you know where I was?" he asked the woman who was busy dusting off her skirt. The load of files in her hand made him frown. She was there for a reason.

Sarah, the main secretary at Leveret's unLTD looked up at him and gave a small smile. "Well, I had to do some research actually. Mr. Granger here-."

"Mr. What?" Hermione asked. She turned to Harry who had suddenly started coughing.

"Granger, that is his name," she stated as if it were fact. "He chose you as his marker and so as the main secretary I had to send you your manuscripts. After you entered your home, I traced the ashes to here." She shifted the load of manuscripts to her other arm. "Our diviners have been going through a lot to find you Mr. 36-58." She gave a mischievous smile and looked at held a playful gaze with Ginny. "They've been spitting out a few things actually," she smiled but stopped suddenly at the glare she was receiving from Draco. She straightened up and looked at him pointedly. "But nothing we can use to find you. Interesting none-the-same, though," she added cocking an eyebrow.

Ron turned to Draco. "Malfoy, I thought you said they were stupid?"

Draco rolled his eyes and looked sideways at Ron. "I said most of them. Some of them actually have brains." He gestured to Sarah, "Specimen A." Sarah smirked.

"I just had to come here to tell you that you were sent the wrong manuscript."

"They got it wrong again?"

"No, I did. I needed your location so that I could give you these." She raised the arm full of files and a file-case. "I was told to give them to you in person and make sure that they reached you." She turned to Ginny who was standing beside her brother and smiled at her. Ginny looked unsure of what to do. "I was told they may be of some use to you." Ginny frowned at the look she was giving her. Was that directed at her?

"Who?" he said looking at them.

She turned back to him. "No one you know." He went to take them from her and she waited until he got close enough to say, "Now." He looked at her wondering what she meant by it but was only met with a small devious smile.

"Are we sure we should trust someone from Leveret, Malfoy? Isn't he like the man that we don't like right now?" Ron said to him.

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "You don't have to trust me, Mr. Granger. I am not here to be trusted, I am here to deliver." She looked at Draco. "And I have." She inclined her head and turned to the fireplace. As she stepped into the flame she looked at Ginny one last time. "Good-day." With that she left.

Mrs. Weasley, none the more shocked than anyone else in the house, suddenly had the urge to leave the house. "Well, as interesting as that was, I need to go out for groceries. Anyone dare help me?"

"Oh, I'll come," Callie said instantly. "I love shopping of any sort."

"I think I better go along too. This... stuff is not exactly how I wanted to spend my senior years," George said as he grabbed his outdoor robes and followed them out the front door to apparate.

"What are they?" Harry asked as the door shut.

Draco sat down on the sofa and placed the files down. Ron, Hermione, Harry and Ginny sat down around the table watching the files as if they held some great secret and waited for him to open one. As he lifted the cover of the first file they all peered at it with interest.

"Boo!" he said suddenly. They all jumped and gasped loudly. When they settled down, they glared at him. "Well what did you want me to do? It's not like there's anything interesting. It's just... what are these?" he said as he held up photographs of Tudor houses near a river banked off with large bricks. Some others had Leveret in front of them waving with two other people.

"Let me see," Hermione said taking them. "These aren't the original. So that explains it," she said with a small empty laugh and put it back on the top of the file.

"Explains what?" Harry said picking it up for a look of his own.

"I saw those in Leveret's office. They were on the wall by his desk," Ron said looking over Harry's shoulder.

Hermione ignored him. "Well look at it, Harry. Those houses existed years and centuries ago in England. There are some of them today but not all of them are true Tudor homes."

"And..." Ron said. This must be going somewhere.

"Well look," she said taking the photograph. "It's next to the Thames River. Have you seen Tudor houses anywhere along the Thames, especially this new looking and authentic at the same time?" she prompted putting it back down. "Didn't think so. They were made like that back in the fourteenth century and later I think, I'll have to look into it to make sure though."

"Fifteenth century?" Draco said holding another photograph.

"Yes, Malfoy."

"But then, how is it that he is standing in front of it with these other people and he looks the same age? Were cameras even invented?" He turned the picture over to see small handwriting saying: 'Ira, Lionel and Lara, 1487.' "Look," he said showing them.

She frowned and took the second photograph. "Wizarding cameras came around in 1348, somewhere around the Black Death. Dark wizards wanted to capture all the death or something like that but it turned into merchandise, especially in the stores in Knockturn Alley before it spread to Diagon Alley." She looked up at them. "Is Leveret a Wizard, Malfoy?"

"I don't think so. He's never shown any signs of it before. Then again, I don't see him all that much. He just showed up during the war recruiting."

Harry sat forward and looked at the picture then read the date on the back. "So he's standing in front of a house that isn't there anymore in what? 1487, waving with his... family?" He shrugged. "They do look like him I guess. That means that he's like..." he trailed looking to the ceiling, "five hundred and... eighteen?"

"Well that's just from 1487 to 2005. I don't know how old he was in the picture."

"But five hundred and eighteen is a big number, Hermione," Ron chipped in. "I don't even think Dumbledore has passed that yet."

"No wizard can get past that age can they?" Draco said astonished.

"Well, no mortal can go past it either, Malfoy."

They spent the next few hours going through the texts and pictures equally as confusing as the next. Ginny kneeled and took up the file-case below to open it. When she did, she found a book in it. On the front was an embossed image of the amulet that Draco had given her yesterday after Blaise left. She took it out of her pocket and looked back and forth from it to the book. "What is this?" she said looking at Draco.

He looked over at it. "It's the catalogue," Ron said. "That's how I picked Malfoy in the first place. You never told me about a catalogue Malfoy."

"You need me to tell you how to choose out of a catalogue, Weasley?" He scoffed. "I would have thought it would be self explanatory. Once again I see my common sense has failed me with you." Ron scowled at him, something that Draco dutifully ignored as he took out the book. "But why would she give me this?"

"She didn't, Draco," Ginny said to him. "She said that someone told her to give it to you. That you'd need it sometime." He looked back at the book. "Can it do anything?"

"It has the name of every mark they have ever had in it. Leveret said he was going to take you out because you wouldn't be with the company for much longer."

"Oh he did, did he?" He smiled and put it back in the box. "Well I shall have to think about why I need that for a while." As he put it back in, he noticed a slip of parchment underneath at the base of the box. "And what's this?" he said to himself as he rested the book aside and took it out. It had a spell written on it. "It's a spell," he said louder this time.

"Let me see," Hermione said and took it from him. "Falcroft? Why on Earth is there a spell to summon him for?"

"Who is he?"

"The makers of time turners summon him whenever they create a new one. It's part of the policy. It's also why there are so few, not many want to summon him at all. I've heard he's quite irritant." She looked at the blank faces around her. "He's a time demon." She registered the oh's all round.

"Why was it in there?"

"Maybe the someone thought you would need that too."

Harry sat forward. "Cast it."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I can't do magic, Potter, get that into your head why don't you. Why don't you say it?" he said holding it out to him.

"Oh give it here." Hermione snatched it out of his outstretched hand and began to read. Events and actions come to pass, And those which lay within the past Bring us your maker of the passage of time. Quite simple really, isn't it?"

Suddenly she flew back into the foot of a chair as a giant whirlwind of fire flew up from the scrap of parchment and encircled the room before landing in front of the fireplace and forming the shape of a human... of sorts, as he was a demon.

"It's about time," they heard before a human figure stepped out of the fire which then ceased to burn through Mrs. Weasley's prize carpet. "As someone, whose existence is considered lower than you and whose prime task is to see to time, you humans seem incapable of keeping it."

"Pardon me?" Draco said, the first one to regain his voice.

"Oh, no pardon me. I am Falcroft, keeper, creator and giver of time. I am infallible. I hold the conscious experience of duration, the period during which an action or event occurs. My home is the dimension representing a succession of such actions or events. I-."

"Stop, hold on. No need, we already had the Quibbler's version from Granger."

Falcroft looked at the brown haired witch and raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess, you read about me somewhere?"

"How did you-."

"Time gets tedious. It can go on a few hours without something cocking up. I look in on a few of my subjects."

"I'm one of-." He hushed her by raising his hand.

Draco stared at her silence. "So that's how you do it," he said quietly.

He let his hand fall to his side and into a fold of his robes. "No time for that discussion." He then made a compromising face. "Even though I can make time for it but that is not why I am here."

"Why are you here?"

"Excellent question. I am here for you."

Draco frowned. "For me? What can you do for me?"

Falcroft shrugged. "What do you want of me?"

"I want to know what you can do for me."

"I can do anything you ask of me-."

Harry stopped moving his head back and forth and shook it vigorously to get rid of the dizziness. He put up his hands quickly. "Okay! I am seeing that this can take a while. We found your summoning spell and we want to know why it was there."

"Perhaps you should ask the person who sent it to you."

Draco made a gesture with his hands to prompt an answer. "And that is?"

"Why do you ask me?"

Hermione gave a knowing chuckle. "Only people who have met you know how to summon you." She took in the others' looks. "Kind of like Grimmauld place. If you know it exists and where it is, it's the only way you can find it."

"What the hell is Grimmauld place?" Draco said suddenly after the small silence.

Harry cut in before anything else managed to slip. "My home, Malfoy. That's all. It's a security measure. I'm extremely paranoid."

Draco ignored Harry's mental problems. "Look, all I want to do is my job. I have to get," he said rummaging around for the file and showed him the picture of Leveret, "this man and soon because him being alive is not something I want. Can you help me with that?"

"I am afraid not. I do not kill people. I can help with the pain though, the pain always goes with time. My properties teach you to move on with your life." Harry laughed.

"Do you find pain funny?"

"No, I've experienced it first hand enough times to know the seriousness of it. It's just something Lupin told me once."

"Ah, Remus, how is he doing? I hear he is a werewolf now," he said as if he were a friend catching up on old times.

"Yes... he is, for a while now." He removed his frown. "He told me time is the greatest teacher and the only teacher that kills all its students."

Falcroft stood up straight glaring at him as if he had had the audacity to curse at him. "I beg your pardon?" he said heatedly.

"You know, 'cos they all get old and die. Sorry, I didn't mean to taint your properties."

"So what are we supposed to do about Thomas?" Ron piped in as it was obvious the man couldn't help them.

"We?" Draco said.

Ron looked at him. "Yes, Malfoy, we."

"This has nothing to do with you Weasley."

"The hell it does. That man set you out to kill my sister, which, as I will think of trying to thank you for later, you didn't do. I want him to pay for it."

"He is also the man that caused Leveret to send me to kill him right back, Weasley." He held up the file with the real manuscript and waved it around for Ron to see. Ron wasn't the Weasley watching it though. The Weasley that watched it bit her lip and stared at every movement it made. When it was placed on the table she reached for it. Falcroft watched her carefully, his second sight taking over him, as he saw the chain reactions already. The files waving and the girl getting angry and leaving. It was common sense really. "You know the one that more or less ruined her life and then left her to die?" he said as if it were obvious.

Falcroft watched as Ginny got up unnoticed by everyone else in the room and went to the kitchen. She seemed to have taken those words with her judging from the look on her face.

"We're going to help whether you want it or not, she's my sister!" Ron stated as the final word in the discussion.

The arguing was still going on in the living room. "Excuse me," Falcroft put in before the room was torn apart with glares.

They both looked at him. "What?" they said.

"I just thought you would like to know that as a maker, giver and taker of time, I can see things that will happen. It seems that you have just touched someone with your actions and words. She just left."

Ron looked around the room. "Where's Ginny?"

Draco joined him and then looked at the table that Falcroft was watching intently. "Where's Thomas' Manuscript?" He then thought back to Sarah and what she said when she was there. "I was told they may be of some use to you" she had said, and she was looking at Ginny when she said it. He closed his eyes and gripped the bridge of his nose. The diviners had seen interesting things. "She's taken it, hasn't she?" he said to no one in particular but Falcroft answered him anyway.

"Yes, she has."

"That means that-."

'Yes, it does."

"And she's going to-."

"Yes, she is."

"But she's not-."

"No, she will not be able to complete it. She is smarter than that. But, she may have gotten herself into something that's over her head."

"So I should-."

"Definitely, right now."

Draco stood up and apparated forgetting about his magical restrictions for the moment.

"So where the hell has he gone then?" Ron said angrily. He just lost an argument, he could sense it.

"Nowhere that you should know. You should be here. If you leave you are only going to be making work for me." He looked at him pointedly with a stare that made Ron freeze. "You don't want that."

"So what are we supposed to do?" Hermione said to distract him.

"Read something, you may then understand why that spell to summon me was placed by that book and why I was not surprised to see you."

***

Ginny appeared on the veranda and peered through the glass in the rain. It was beating heavily against the panes of the door and on her. She shuddered. It was cold, it was winter and she was catching her death. She made her way to the doors and was about to push down the handle when something grabbed it and spun her around.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?"

"I'm getting my life back. He ruined it and I'm going to fix it."

"By doing what, killing him? Ginny, it's not that simple."

"Why not? You do it everyday."

"I was trained for it, it's different. I know how to handle these things. How do you think you'll feel afterwards? You won't feel any better." He looked at her pointedly. "You were right, it's murder. Murder never feels good."

She moved his hand from her wrist. "I can handle it." She pushed him away further onto the veranda, so much he almost fell over the railing, and pushed down on the door handles. When it clicked open she smiled.

He always forgot to lock the veranda doors.

***

When Draco regained his balance from the landing he looked into the house, the doors were open and Ginny was gone. He entered looking around and shuddered gratefully for the heat. It was late evening now. They had all spent most of the afternoon, well what was left of it after waking up at two o'clock, going through endless pieces of information and, as all things intriguing but equally confusing; the time flew by without them even noticing. He made his way to the grand staircase opposite the front doors. He heard laughing, most definitely the laughter Ginny had described that night when they... well it made no sense to think of that now. He had to find her before she did something stupid.

***

"Leveret!" Harry cried out scaring the others half to death, except for Falcroft who had seen it coming. "It's all to do with Leveret."

"And how, on earth, do you get that?" Ron said.

Harry picked up the papers and put them back into the stack they were in before it was disarrayed. "Look at this, everything to do with the company." He gestured where Girard's manuscript was. "It leads from Thomas' files to Leveret's old pictures to important things from the company itself. Whoever sent it wants us to know something about Leveret and the company."

"So the order it was given to us is important? We had to finish with Thomas first then move onto whatever it is this person wants? But we must have a reason to go after him too or... what's the point in giving it to us?"

"So, who is this person?"

Harry sat back. "I don't know. He must have something against Leveret though. Maybe he sent someone after a family member or something. We must be common enemies, we hate him and he hates him."

Hermione looked across at Falcroft who had taken to sitting on a chair and waiting for them. "He's right isn't he? Whoever gave us all this," she said gesturing to the wad of paper and folders, "and gave us your summoning charm wants us to get rid of Leveret, right?"

Falcroft, for the first time in half an hour spoke to them all. "Bad things are brewing and he is the cause of it." He began to pick at his nails. "I'd kill him if I could but I cannot break the contract."

"You're a demon you have no morals," Hermione said.

He put down his hands and sighed outright to the room. "No, but I have my dignity" he said looking at her, "and I have a reputation. The greatest thing these times afford is a spotless reputation. If I am known to break deals, I get no clients. If I get no clients, I cease to exist. If I cease to exist, time, as you know it, will too.

"But you control time."

"In a manner of speaking. I travel through it, fixing things that should not have happened. Sometimes I see what will become of a person. If something happens to them that should not and I see the potential in them to change what could happen I can give them that chance."

"By doing what?"

"I don't control time per se, I manipulate it. Time is what I am. I can give it, I can suspend it, and I can take it away. Ira Leveret, as he was, was dying." He looked at Harry. "He was not meant to die. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time and I was told to get him back."

"Told by who?"

He gave a look of distaste. "My superiors."

"You have superiors?"

He swung his arms out to the room. "The creators of all that is," he said watching them. When they didn't respond he gave up and let his hands drop. "You know, the you-know-what-that-be? Every person has superiors. The higher to the top you travel, the more trouble you get into. My superiors thought they were doing something good but, as it turns out, it wasn't so good after all."

Ron frowned. "What happened?"

"Ira Leveret was dying from the Plague that spread in 1346."

"But he lived in the 15^th century," Hermione pointed out.

Falcroft continued as if she hadn't spoken. "He was caught. Just after some wizard's wife was having an affair with her husband's brother, he walked into the room." He stopped for a minute to ponder at the ceiling. "He was a stupid man of sorts," he said more to himself. "The woman's husband, in turn, believed Ira was with his wife and hexed him with a bad case of the Black Death. He was thirty-four years old when he caught it and, as he was a wizard, the effects did not start until a few weeks later, so my superiors had no idea. When they did find out, he had had it too long for me to just go back and relieve him. He had touched too many people, changed too many things for me to just go in and alter it. That is a lot of loose ends to tie up and..." He sat back down sighed immensely and looked at Hermione. "Even I'm not that patient. It was impossible. The only way to save his soul was for him to lose it and have it washed."

"Washed?" they said simultaneously.

"Another handy trick you have at disposal when you have inferiors. They're called soul washers, used for beings with a purpose. The only problem was that they had to put all others on hold for him as he was pretty far gone. It resulted in them losing a large set of souls and, as a punishment, they refused to return it to him. It was then up to me to strike a deal with them. He got back his soul in exchange for him to make up for all the souls he caused them to lose."

"What was the big thing he was supposed to do? What was his purpose?"

"He was supposed to set off a chain of events that would bring down a great evil. With the contract in place, his destiny was a little sidetracked but, as it turns out," he said looking at Harry pointedly, "he didn't fail in it after all."

Harry quickly caught on to his drift. "What?" Harry exclaimed. "But he lived in the fifteenth century!"

"And he was also destined to be a diviner. Losing his soul and having it washed ruined that. He was meant to make a prediction that became a prophecy, I think one of his descendants had it instead. He still helped with it, am I not correct? Mr. Malfoy aided you somewhat in it, no?"

Suddenly, Hermione burst out laughing. She tried to stop when everyone looked at her. "I'm sorry, just ignore me. It's just... Trelawny as Leveret's descendant, too funny." She waved away their attention and they ignored her spontaneous giggling fit.

***

Ginny walked into her old bedroom. It was still the same colour, a pale blue. She shook her head vigorously, these were not things to dwell on. She looked around the room and blinked as light flickered all around her, she caught herself when she realised what they were... what did her father call it... light blubs. They flickered with the near storm from outside. She didn't remember them being there before. She had lived in a wizarding household, illuminated by magic or candles. She frowned instantly before smiling considerably for her genius. Elekticity. She may have been an outcast in school but even she hadn't missed Harry's depthy tales to her father. Elekticity was dangerous, and the danger lay in the wilers...

She pointed to the ceiling of the room and said, "Evanesco!" and watched as the ceiling disappeared revealing a trail of wires all over the place. How on earth did muggles understand this? She frowned as she followed the set that trailed from the blub itself to the wall where it was kept it in place by a thin wiler that was secured to a wall. It was taut, so the huge chandelier looking thing must have been heavy. All the better. She got rid of the wall to find out if it led to the white square that turned it on. She narrowed her eyes looking at it, it was so thin. She couldn't imagine how such power to illuminate could be held in these small series of strings. She shrugged, turned it off and sliced through the taut wiler in the ceiling anyway. She froze the large chandelier and secured it back to the ceiling. She extended the wiler that had held it up and muttered an incantation to hook it around the white square. She stepped back to take a look at it and nodded her approval, ended the charm to bring back the wall and ceiling, and waited.

Mrs. Thomas, the real one, screamed as a girl, who looked like she had been dragged backwards through a lake, approached her coming out of the bathroom. The towel around her was her only protection. The guards had the day off and her husband was somewhere else in the house, figures.

"Turn the taps back on."

"What?" she said confused.

"The taps in the bathroom, turn them on. Turn them on high." The woman turned back to her bathroom and turned both the hot and cold tap on. The water gushed into the bath and sink. "Plug them up," she added for good caution. The woman obeyed her then turned around wondering what else she wanted. "Close the door and call him," she said. Her eyes were red and, though she was trembling from cold and indecision, her hand was as still and warning as ever.

"Who?" she said closing the door. The noise of water died considerably.

"Girard. Call him." She opened her mouth to call for her husband when a man walked into the room and she hurried to grab at her towel.

"Wait, don't call him yet. Ginny, please just think about this."

"There's nothing to think about," she said without moving.

"What the hell are you screaming for, woman-," Girard yelled after hearing screaming, he was already wearing his pajamas, which was predictable. He went to bed early every night. He stopped however, as he saw the girl he had thought was dead glaring at him dangerously between his wife and some stranger he didn't know.

"Ginevra, dear, what are you doing here?" he smiled nervously.

"I'm taking back my life by removing you from it." She gestured her wand for him to stand by his wife. She briefly let her eyes wander to the wedding rings they were both wearing, matching wedding rings. Hers hadn't matched his like that. She fought back a tear from falling.

Draco spoke up in the silence. "Ginny, he isn't worth it."

She gave an empty laugh. "Apparently, I was. Only fair to repay my gratitude."

"Ginevra, please, I was just looking out for my daughter. I didn't want her growing up knowing of the things I do."

Suddenly Ginny stiffened. "Daughter? You have a daughter?" She shook it off and focused on what she came there for. She was way beyond overreacting... in a way. "You won't have to worry about that now, will you? Avada-." Girard's eyes opened wide before he shut them tight. Ginny, however, did not finish the rest of the curse. He waited, and waited, but nothing came. All he heard was laughter.

Ginny had stopped mid way after seeing him cringe like that and couldn't help but grin at him, she was so caught up in it that she was oblivious of the strange looks she was getting. When she sobered up she glanced at them one by one. "I'm sorry, it's just... too funny. It's hilarious, that face - I've never seen him use that face - it's incredible." She noticed a shimmer o flight on the ground by the bathroom and secretly glanced at it realising it was water from the bathroom running into the bedroom. All his carpets will be ruined, she laughed to herself before watching them all one last time, shaking her head in a thoughtful way and then turning to leave the room.

A frown of confusion was too much of an understatement to describe the faces of the people left behind. Draco nervously smiling left the room quietly, Girard would no doubt remember his face now and the faster he got out of there the better. He ran downstairs and caught up with Ginny as she walked back out to the veranda. The rain had stopped a little and was now just pissing it down. Nevertheless, she walked calmly out into the garden and studied her old bedroom thoroughly.

"Ginny, can we go? It's raining if you hadn't noticed."

She raised her wand and muttered an incantation. "Happy now?" she said without looking at him.

Draco let go of his arms to look around as the rain beat down on an invisible barrier that surrounded them. He decided not to argue with her. He then looked up at the bedroom wondering what she was staring at. "What are you doing?"

It was then that she smiled. "You told me not to kill him."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "And?"

"Well, I'm not going to kill him."

"So why are we still here?"

She turned to him with the smile still in place. It hadn't changed at all, it unnerved him. "I'm setting off a chain reaction." Her smile continued as she turned back to the window.

Draco followed her gaze and couldn't help but think of Blaise when she said those words.

***

"What the hell did she think she was doing, coming into this house when she's not invited?" Girard's wife screamed at him as she put on her nightdress. "I'm flooing the authorities."

"No! No, you cannot do that."

She stood still, incredulous, with her hands on her hips. "Why not?"

"Just trust me. If anything can you just trust me?"

"The last time I trusted you, you said you would keep my daughter safe. Next thing I know a deranged psychopath is coming into the house to kill you! Our daughter is in this house Girard, how could you let this happen?" she sobbed as she sat on the bed.

"Look," he said as he sat down next to her and switched of the lamplight next to him. "Just get some sleep and we'll figure it out in the morning-." He paused after he took off his bedroom slippers and sank his feet into the carpet once more. "Laura, have you been walking on my carpet with wet feet?"

His wife turned over from her place on the bed. "No, I know how much you prize your beautiful carpets, Girard," she said sarcastically and turned back.

Girard turned back to the floor and saw the pool of water around his foot in the plush carpet, he followed the trail from the bed to the bathroom and exhaled a furious sigh. He switched on the lamplight and went to the bathroom opening the door. Torrents of water gushed out onto the floor as the sound of high pressured water flowed out of the taps and onto the floor.

"Merlin's hell, Laura! Do you know how much this will cost me?" he yelled.

His wife turned around and watched him from the bed as he went to the wall to switch on the chandelier to take a glimpse of how much damage she had caused.

***

Outside, Ginny smiled the same eerie smile as she muttered, "Finite Incantatum."

She could almost see the fully charged blubs of elekticity smashing to the ground.