The Soul Keeper

Chapter 1: Flying, Trouble, and Detention

The rain poured down in fine sheets, drenching everything unfortunate enough to be stuck out in it. Even Draco himself. It had started out as a light sprinkle, but had steadily progressed into a blinding downpour. Cursing mentally, Draco raised his hands and gave the signal for the rest of the team to land. They couldn't possibly play Quidditch in this mess. Then, realizing his stupidity, he raised his voice and yelled the order.

When he landed, he realized that it had been a useless effort anyway; the rest of the team was already on the ground waiting for him.

"I'll reschedule practice and inform you of the time later!" he shouted, trying to be heard above the now-shrieking wind.

When the other Slytherins just shook their heads at him, he knew that that was not going to work either. Motioning with his hands, he ordered them to go to the locker room.

Once they were all inside, Draco surveyed his wet and miserable-looking team. Only the fact that they were Slytherins and therefore did not show weakness held off any complaints.

"I'll reschedule practice and inform everyone of the date and time," he restated. "For now, you're free to go." He started to walk off and then hesitated when he saw that they were all still standing there staring at him.

"What?" he asked irritably as he turned back around.

He was soaked to the bone and freezing; all he wanted to do was go and change into some dry clothes. Why are they holding me up?

"Well? Are you all going to just stand there speechless?" His face had taken on a definite now-I'm-ticked-off look.

"Um...Draco?" It was Pansy Parkinson who had spoken. When she stopped uncertainly, Draco barely contained his impatience.

"Yes, Pansy?" he ground out. God, my Slytherin housemates. They can be so irritating. Why did it take me this long to notice?

"No one brought the game balls in."

The whole team waited silently for the explosion they were sure would follow this announcement. It never came. Instead, Draco-much to the surprise of the others- gave a resigned sigh.

"Why am I not surprised?" he muttered under his breath. To the rest of the team, he simply said, "Alright, as I'm team captain, the rest of you can go on back. I’ll take care of the balls."

Besides, it's not like any of them would actually be able to complete the task. Draco had learned the hard way that if you wanted something done, it was best to do it yourself.

For a moment the team stood in silence, then Pansy spoke out angrily,

"What do you mean, you'll do it? Get one of these other morons to grab the balls." Her lower lip came out in her version of what she imagined to be a pretty pout.

"I was hoping that you and I could... spend some time together." Her voice was falsely innocent as she gazed compellingly at him.

Imagine, he thought to himself, last year I would have went for that pathetic expression unerringly. He sighed again.

“Not today, Pansy, it’s my responsibility to make sure that all the equipment gets put up."

Her pout turned into a sneer.

"Since when do you care about responsibility?" She snapped.

Draco, aware that the rest of the team was watching interestedly, gripped Pansy's arm none-to-gently and pulled her out of hearing range.

"Since now," He said forcibly.

Seeing that she was about to open her mouth again, he pulled her to him and silenced her with his lips. Pulling away almost instantly, he looked imploringly at her.

"Now go on with the rest of the team. I can't have all my players ill." He started to walk away again, when she grabbed his arm.

"Later?" she asked coyly, looking up at him from behind her lashes.

He groaned inwardly.

"Later," he promised wearily.

After making sure that she went out with the rest of the team, he made his way back to the entrance to the Quidditch pitch.

Pulling off his dripping, heavy robe, he let it drop to the floor; it would only slow him down and hinder his movements. Then, hopping gracefully onto his new Ellixander Escape broomstick-that provided first-class, unerring flying action-Draco took to the sky.

He quickly realized that this was not going to be any sort of picnic. The sky was growing darker by the minute, and the torrent of rain showed no sign of letting up. After ten minutes of searching, without any sign of the bludgers or the golden snitch, Draco seriously considered giving up. Then he discovered that he actually liked flying in the storm. It gave him a sense of freedom and wildness that he'd never experienced before. It was an amazing feeling to have the wind rushing through his hair, and the rain pelting down on him. Some of the drops stung, but this was easily ignored in the sheer joy of it. Lightning flared across the sky, and thunder shook the ground and rumbled, getting louder with every new burst. But he wasn't on the ground.

He continued flying, not noticing as the time literally "flew" by. Not even noticing how wet he was becoming, or that his hands and feet were growing ice cold, along with his nose and the tips of his ears.

*

Ginny Weasley cringed as another streak of lightning seemingly split the air in two and thunder crashed. She could tell that the storm was coming closer every minute, and that it was proving to be a very fierce one. Trying to concentrate on her homework, she kept being interrupted by the quick bursts of light coming from the window. Giving up, she left her homework open on the table and made her way across the room to the window seat.

If she couldn’t do her homework because of the storm, then she might as well enjoy watching it. Sinking into a soft cushioned seat with a tired sigh, she glanced briefly around the common room.

Is anyone else still up this late?

Seeing no one in sight, she decided that everyone else had probably went to bed a fairly long time ago. It was eleven-thirty, after all. Satisfied that there was no one else about, she began singing softly to herself as she watched the flashing light display.

"I see dark clouds out my window. I know a storm is coming any minute. The thunder just confirms my fears. And I know that you are out there in it-" She was suddenly cut off by a shocked gasp. Her own.

She stared silently out the window, searching insistently for the dark form that she was positive she had seen fly by. But it was gone, lost in the mist and pouring rain.

She was about to resume singing again, thinking it was just her eyes playing tricks on her, when something occurred to her. The window she was at looked out over the Quidditch Pitch. Was it possible that some stupid, foolish student was out flying, in this weather? Although she was fairly certain that no one could be that idiotic, the thought lingered. Knowing that she would get no peace now that she had allowed that thought to enter her head, she got up to grab her cloak, a small sigh escaping her.

Now she would have to face the drenching, freezing rain, just to satisfy her sense of duty, and-she had to admit-her curiosity. Plodding quietly up to the sixth year girls’ dormitories, she grabbed her broomstick, an older Nimbus 2000 that she had received last year for Christmas. Not the most advanced model, but certainly flyable.

She crept carefully back down the stairs with it and into the Gryffindor common room. Unhooking the latch on the window, she swung it open, and was immediately greeted by the tug of the furious wind and the splattering rain.

"That blasted wind would be blowing this way, wouldn't it?" she grumbled to herself.

Oh well, I suppose it could be worse. I'm going to get soaked anyway. Now she would just have to make sure that she cleaned up the puddle of water that was steadily growing on the floor. Nothing for it I suppose, she thought as she launched herself out the window into the stormy sky.

After flying for just moments, her path to the Quidditch field made crazily zigzagged; she began to get angry with herself. Just had to appease your curiosity, didn't you Ginny? She couldn’t help thinking. Now look at the mess you’re stuck in. She considered going back, but decided that now she was out here she might as well conduct an accurate search. At least for a few minutes.

Fighting the raging wind she continued on. Just when she thought that the dark form must have just been a trick of her eyes, she saw it again. Except this time it was closer. Making her way towards it, she bit her lip to keep from cursing her slow progress. What was worse, it seemed that the dark figure had a better broom and was moving away from her.

She tried yelling, but that did no good. She was becoming increasingly frustrated when she hit upon another idea. Taking her wand out of her pocket, she whispered the words of a freezing spell and by some stroke of luck, managed to hit the rapidly retreating figure. Putting her wand away, she urged her broom forward, grinning goofily when she actually caught the other flier. Gripping the back of their broomstick to make sure that whoever it was didn’t get away, she took out her wand and undid the spell.

Instantly the broom tried to dart off again, but at least this time she was dragged along.

“What the-!" Ginny recognized the indignant voice, even over the noise of the storm.

Whatever the boy had been about to say though died on his lips as he turned around and saw who it was that was holding onto his broomstick. Ginny suddenly-though not completely unexpectedly- found herself face to face with none other than Draco Malfoy.

*

"What the-!" Draco froze, and for just a second, something close to astonishment seemed to pass across his features. But it was just a flicker of emotion, and it quickly disappeared behind the expressionless mask he usually wore. Much calmer now, when he spoke his voice was as cold as the freezing rain.

"What do you think your doing, Weasley?" he sneered.

Ginny stared blankly at him for a minute, then hastily let go of his broom. He remained hovering beside her though, obviously waiting for an explanation. Suddenly, the horrible sneer on his face was too much for Ginny. And the way he had spit out the word Weasley. Like it was some kind of curse.

"Well," she snapped back, her temper getting the better of her, " I was coming to see what sort of idiot was out here in this kind of weather and warn them to go in before they got sick, but seeing how it’s you, I think I’ll just let you stay." She was glaring at him furiously, her face red, not from blushing, but because she had to yell to make herself heard over the screaming wind.

For a second, Draco just stared at her speechlessly, but it wasn’t long before he recovered his wits.

"Well if I’m an idiot for being out here, what does that make you?" He was smirking now, a look of complete and utter confidence on his face.

He knew he had her there. And his smirk only increased as he saw her face turn an even more brilliant shade of red, and this time they both knew it wasn’t from yelling.

Ginny spluttered for a moment, completely at a loss for what to say.

"See if I ever try to do anything nice for you again, Draco Malfoy," she finally managed to spit out before turning her broom and pointing it back towards the common room.

But Draco wasn’t ready to let her go that easy. To tell the truth, he was quite enjoying the little verbal match they were having.

"The way I see it, you didn’t know it was me out here, so technically, you weren't trying do anything nice for me to begin with," he pointed out.

Ginny hadn't thought she could get any madder. She knew that there was no way that Draco Malfoy could possibly make her any angrier than he already had for the past six years of her life. She was wrong. Very wrong.

Maybe it was the storm, or the way she was frozen solid from the icy rain. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the way he had put on that arrogant smirk as he was taunting her. Either way, it really didn’t matter. What mattered was that one second she was on her way back to the common room, and the next she had turned around and wiped that smirk right off his face. Literally.

Weasley temper. That's what she told herself it was later as she was sitting in the hospital wing. She had let her temper get the better of her, and now look where she was. In the hospital wing waiting for Malfoy to wake up so she could apologize.

Silently Ginny cursed her red hair. This was definitely not her cup of tea. But she felt bad about shoving Malfoy off his broom. Luckily, they really hadn't been that far above the ground, so he hadn’t been hurt too bad. Just a broken arm. But honestly, in the wizarding world, that took all of two seconds to fix. Still, she felt that she ought to apologize. Even if he had provoked her, she wasn’t going to stoop to his level by throwing out all her decency. She was going to tell him she was sorry, and that was that. Now all I have to do is manage not to choke on my own tongue while I’m at it, she thought darkly.

But that wasn’t the worst of her troubles. Oh no, not only was her conscience forcing her to apologize, the Headmaster was giving both her and Malfoy detention.

Together.

Ginny really didn’t see how things could possibly get any worse. Which proves once again that I don't know anything. For it was that exact moment when Mr. Malfoy decided to wake up. Oh no, was the first phrase that came to mind.

Draco lay with his eyes closed for a few moments, trying to remember where he was and what was going on. For some reason, his right arm felt really strange, like it should hurt, but it didn’t. He didn’t have time to contemplate on that though, because just then, memory came rushing back on him like a tidal wave.

He remembered being in the storm, and the rain pouring down on him, soaking him to the bone. And then he remembered someone grabbing onto his broomstick and snapping him out of the trance that he seemed to have been in. At first he couldn’t remember who that person was, the picture in his mind was kind of fuzzy.

Draco opened his eyes and sat up in the bed, trying to figure out where he was. And suddenly that image became perfectly clear. The person was sitting right beside of him. Ginny Weasley. That little git pushed me off my broom! For about five seconds his brain wouldn’t process this thought, it just kept running it over and over through his mind. When he did finally comprehend what it was saying, his face contorted in fury and he threw out the first thing that popped into his head,

"You pushed me off my broom."

For a second Ginny just stared at him. Then she promptly started laughing.

Draco was taken aback. Never in his entire life could he remember anyone laughing at him like this. Quickly making his face emotionless, he asked her, trying desperately to keep his calm,

"Just what is so amusing, Weasley?" He knew his voice sounded strained, but really, she was getting on his last nerve.

Draco had never been an extremely patient person, and he could absolutely not stand for someone to laugh at him. It was a minute or two before Ginny could answer. She was bent over double in her chair laughing so hard she was crying. When she could finally speak again, she looked up and met his eyes, still smiling.

"It was just, your face," she tried to explain. "When you realized that you had been pushed off your broom by a girl. And-a Weasley, at that." Ginny was starting to laugh again. She couldn’t seem to help it.

" I-could practically see-the wheels turning in your head-while you were trying to-figure it out." Ginny had to stop; she was convulsed in laughter again.

Draco however was not laughing.

"I for one do not find it funny in the slightest." His normal, controlled tone was back, all hint of feeling gone from his eyes, and he was looking at her with a bored expression.

"What are you doing here anyway? It seems highly doubtful that you were sitting here mourning your actions." He raised an eyebrow at her, "You weren’t were you?"

"Of course not," Ginny scoffed, "I don’t regret pushing you off at all." She met his eyes squarely, tilting her head up in a gesture of defiance. She was fairly certain that he couldn’t tell that he wasn’t far from the truth. At least, she hoped not.

"Then what are you doing here?" he asked again.

"I was- I wanted to-" she stuttered.

Apologizing to Draco in person seemed a lot harder than it had when she had practiced it in her head just a few minutes ago.

"Yes?" he asked. When she still didn’t continue, he began to get irritated. "For God's sake, just spit it out!"

Ginny tried again. This time, she concentrated intensely on her shoes as she spoke.

"I came to tell you I was sorry for pushing you off your broom." She paused for a second, waiting for his reaction.

When he didn’t do anything, she hastily continued. "I really didn’t plan on doing that, you know." Still not receiving any response from him, she glanced up quickly, only to find him staring at her in an odd and sort of disconcerting way.

For a second, she actually thought he would say something like ‘No harm done’ or something of the sort.

Instead, when he did speak, it was in his usual toneless voice. "Could have fooled me. I could almost swear that I heard you say something along the lines of ‘I don't regret pushing you off at all’ just a moment ago."

Was Draco making a dry attempt at humor? Ginny wasn’t sure.

"I’m not sorry," She said in perfect honesty.

Draco looked away. He seemed almost... disappointed?

"But that doesn't mean that my conscience is going to let me off so easy," Ginny finished.

Draco jerked his gaze upward. Did that mean she was sorry? He wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t about to ask her. Why did he care anyway? It really shouldn't make any difference to me, he thought. Shaking his head, he shrugged off that thought.

"If you've satisfied your conscience, then why are you still here?"

"Because I have some other, less thrilling news," she told him simply.

"Really?" Draco replied dryly, "I wasn't aware that your other statement was at all thrilling." His smirk was back.

Ginny flushed, her smile disappearing. She had been going to break the news gently, but now that he had returned to his earlier humor, she figured she might as well just be direct.

"You have detention for the next week. With me."

Draco's eyes widened in surprise. "Together?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "That’s what I said."

"But why do I have detention? You’re the one who pushed me." He was glaring at her now, his eyes narrowed.

"If you’ll remember," she told him, "we were both out flying at night, which is against the rules." It was her turn to smirk now.

"You mean you didn’t get in trouble at all for pushing me?" His voice was indignant. She should have gotten an extra detention for that at least.

Ginny's smile widened. "See, the thing is, Malfoy," her tone was sickeningly sweet, "they don’t know I pushed you. I told them a gust of wind blew you off your broom."

"You what?" He could not be hearing this. Did a Weasley just tell him that everyone would think a gust of wind blew him off his broom? This was unbelievable! He was going to strangle that girl. At least I would if I knew I could get away with it. He opened his mouth to say something else, but Ginny was already heading for the door.

"Night, Malfoy," she called over her shoulder. "Sweet dreams."

He didn’t have time to get a single word out before the door swung shut behind her.

What did she mean goodnight? He glanced out the window and saw that it was still dark. The clock on the wall told him that it was only half past three. Heaving a sigh, he threw himself back down on the bed. He might as well get some sleep while he could. Tomorrow he was going to have to try to salvage the reputation he would get when everyone heard that he had supposedly fallen off his broom in a gust of wind. And if that’s not enough, he grumbled to himself, I have detention for a week with that, that, plague on man!

As Ginny exited the room, she couldn’t help but smile triumphantly. For once in her life, she had gotten the better of a Malfoy.

It felt great.

Of course, she wasn’t nearly as mean as she had pretended to be. Right now Draco was probably in there trying to figure out exactly what he was going to say to everyone who knew, or thought they knew, that he had fallen off his broom. But Ginny had one more trick to play. No one except the teachers even knew what had happened that night. The rest of the students would never know. She grinned just thinking about the shock Draco was going to get when he realized that. At least it would be a relieved shock.

As she walked down the hallway, she decided that things were turning out all right after all. When she had first gone in there to apologize to him, she had been sure that things were going to go horribly wrong. Then in a stroke of brilliance, she had come up with the plan of annoying him as much as possible. She hadn’t known exactly what that would include until the conversation had started. Everything had just kind of gone from there.

What Draco didn’t know yet was that she actually did have an extra week of detention for pushing him off. She had lied about that part. Besides the detention, she had also received a talk from Dumbledore about how dangerous it was to push someone off their broomstick, especially when that someone was a Malfoy. Of course, Professor Dumbledore had almost ruined the soberness of the whole discussion when he had to try very hard not to chuckle. So much for seriousness.

Now that she was on her own, Ginny became aware of just how sleepy she was. She hadn’t gotten any sleep at all, unlike Draco, who had gotten several hours already. Come to think of it, there was another surprise for Draco in the morning. I must be so good at this annoying business that I do it subconsciously. The only reason that he wasn’t back in his own bed right now was because he had had to be cured of a cold that Madame Pomfrey was certain had come from flying around in the rain for hours. He would be just fine in the morning though, and could go back to his own dorm. After he was forced to swallow another dose of Madame Pomfrey's dreaded Curing Concoction.

Draco was going to love that.

Ginny pulled herself out of her thoughts when she found that she had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady that marked the entrance into the Gryffindor common room.

She mumbled the password (jellybeans) and stumbled into the room. Her feet dragging, she barely made her way up the stairs. She was almost asleep on her feet. Somehow she found herself lying in bed a couple of minutes later, just seconds from sleep.

The last thought that passed through her mind was one that had taken her a while to register: Oh my God, I have detention with Draco Malfoy for a week!