The Soul Keeper

Chapter Four: Boy Trouble?

When Ginny awoke the next morning, it was to find that she was the only one left in the sixth year girls' dormitory. She had overslept. But she could hardly be blamed since she had stayed up late cleaning the Potion's classroom, while at the same time trying to figure out what was going on with Draco.

He hadn't been himself at all yesterday, and-when she was honest with herself-Ginny realized that whatever had happened to him the day before had truly terrified her.

Not necessarily because she hadn't known what was going on and was scared for his life (a shocking revelation in itself, she had discovered before she'd managed to fall asleep the night before), but because she had been completely and totally helpless to do anything about it. It wasn't a feeling Ginny was used to, nor was it one she liked. She had always prided herself on her ability to keep her head in a crisis and use good sense, but she had had no idea how to help Draco.

This theory, that she wasn't as self- possessed as she thought, had the unfortunate effect of leaving her badly shaken up. So, instead of pondering and torturing herself with questions she knew she couldn't answer (like why she was suddenly so concerned about Draco's well-being), she decided to try to act normally and make it through the day the as best she could. There would be enough time for worry and troubling questions when three o'clock came and she had to meet Draco.

For now, she would see about getting some breakfast; she felt like she hadn't eaten in days. As if to prove this point, her stomach growled fiercely as she pulled herself up out of bed and quickly dressed. Throwing her robe on, she pulled open the door and started to step out into the hallway.

Before she could take one step, she was stopped by Hermione standing there, fist poised to knock on the door. A look of concern etched into her face and her soft brown eyes seemed worried.

"Oh, Ginny!" she burst out in surprise. " I was just coming to check on you. We- Ron, Harry and I- were worried. You normally don't sleep this late, and well," She paused uncertainly, "we know that you didn't come back till late last night." Hermione bit her lip, obviously uncomfortable.

"Ron thought you might be sick or something..." the older girl trailed off.

So that's why she's here, Ginny thought. Ron sent her to make sure his little sister was all right.

She sighed inwardly. When would Ron learn that she wasn't a little child anymore? She didn't need looking after. But even as she scorned the older-brother's protection, she found it touching that he cared that much. She was also thankful that Harry and Hermione cared that much.

Harry

.

She smiled slightly, picturing the slightly widened eyes and the downward tilt of his mouth that always seemed to accompany him when he was worried or concerned about something. It was rather sweet that he would be concerned about her, though not in the "maybe-he-does-care" sense that she would have hoped for only a few years earlier.

Thinking about him didn't bring that pang of sorrow that it used to when she was only about twelve. No, she'd long since discovered that what she had thought of as love at that time had only been an infatuation. He was the Great Harry Potter, and she had been drawn to that.

The feeling had quickly faded, and now she felt nothing more for him than she would for a big brother. And he seemed to think the same about her. He treated her like a little sister, and worried about her almost as much as Ron. It was really no wonder Hermione was here to check up on her.

"I'm fine," she told Hermione, trying to reassure her. The last thing Ginny wanted was for them to think something was wrong and start prying and asking questions because of it. She didn't think Hermione or Harry would do that, but Ron certainly would.

"I just didn't get much sleep last night." Ginny decided to leave it at that. Explaining the rest would be a long and embarrassing process, and she didn't really think she wanted to go through that just then.

She could just imagine the look on Hermione's face if she told her about pushing Draco off his broom and breaking his arm. While Ron and Harry would probably have burst into laughter, Hermione would have been more prone to looking horrified and telling her how childish it was.

"It doesn't matter if it was Malfoy, Ginny. You could have killed him pushing him off his broom like that!"

Ginny could hear it already.

Hermione remained silent, expecting her to continue, to explain more. When Ginny didn't, she just nodded.

"Okay then, I'll tell Ron." She turned to walk away, but she hadn't even reached the first step when she stopped to turn back,

"You know you can trust me, right?" she asked anxiously. " You can tell me anything. If there's something bothering you... school, or boys, or something like that."

Ginny stood blinking stupidly at Hermione for a moment, then she promptly burst out laughing. Hermione thought she was having boy trouble! The very thought was ridiculous. Ginny hadn't had much experience with boys at all, in fact, her boyfriend count was set firmly on zero. She just wasn't interested in any of the boys her age, finding them mostly childish and annoying.

Now, who's being childish?

she asked herself. This whole fiasco with Draco seemed to have brought out the worst side of her.

"What's so funny?" Hermione looked puzzled, and a little hurt.

"Oh, Hermione," Ginny said consolingly, realizing she was still laughing, " it's nothing like that at all. I'm fine, really."

Again, Ginny wondered what Hermione would have thought if she'd told her what was really going on. For just a second, Ginny actually considered it. Considered telling Hermione everything. About the storm and Draco, the detentions, the horrible incident that had happened the night before, and...and the strange, new feeling that had suddenly come over her when Draco had smiled at her.

But no. The scene she had imagined earlier stopped her.

And besides, Hermione would very likely go and tell Ron and Harry, and Ginny really didn't want them to know. At least not about what had happened in detention the day before. The part prior to when Ginny had ended up punching Draco, that is.

"You can tell Ron that I'm not sick. I just overslept, okay?"

Hermione nodded, relief showing clearly on her face. Hermione really hadn't wanted to give Ginny a talk on boys, especially when she didn't know all that much herself. She and Ron were going out now, true, but that didn't mean she knew how to talk about that kind of stuff.

"Alright, I guess I'll go catch up with Harry and Ron then." She smiled briefly, then turned and made her way quickly down the stairs.

Ginny smiled after her, beginning to chuckle to herself. Boy trouble, honestly, she thought as she started down the stairs herself.

She stopped suddenly. Wasn't that what she had after all: boy trouble?

Maybe not the kind Hermione meant, but there was no denying that she was having trouble with a certain gray-eyed, pale-skinned Slytherin. She hesitated, one foot hovering in the air above the next step. And there was that grin...

Coming abruptly to her senses, she shook her head, as if she could shake the thoughts from her mind.

It was hopeless.

*

When Draco opened his eyes the next morning, he groaned. He was back in the hospital wing.

Again.

It's really becoming quite a familiar sight

, he thought to himself. And it seems to be the work of that Weasley every time. Funny.

Actually, it wasn't funny in the least, the small pain in his head reminded him. And this time, it really wasn't Weasley's fault. At least, she hadn't directly caused him bodily harm, but indirectly...

Draco supposed he should have been grateful to her for managing to get him there in the first place, but somehow, he couldn't find it in him. At the moment, he was far beyond being grateful to her for anything. After all, if one looked at it the right way, it really was her fault that he was in here. If it wasn't for her, The Voice wouldn't have seen fit to punish him for laughing, something Draco had rarely done before.

As if response to his low moan, Madame Pomfrey appeared in the doorway to her office, walking directly towards him.

"Good, your up. I was beginning to think you might sleep all day. You can leave now," she said in a firm voice that held none of her usual kindness.

"What, not even a 'how are you feeling this morning'? Just a `You can leave'?" Draco joked irritably, hoping to take his mind off the slight pain in his head and the memory of the excruciating pain he had went through just hours ago.

He was lucky to be alive, and still sane. Most people didn't manage the Cruciatus curse even once without at least showing some side effects of mental illness.

Of course,

Draco rationalized, I haven't been awake that long, it could happen yet.

He doubted it though, resistance to the curse and it's effects must have been one of the better traits instilled in him by his father.

"You may have a glass of water before you go," the nurse said, as if this were a huge privilege.

She bustled off to get him one before Draco could think of a suitable retort. He leaned his head back on the soft pillow, closing his eyes briefly. He did feel a lot better this morning, headache and all.

Fortunately for him, any of the other lingering pains from the Cruciatus curse had long since faded. If he had been anyone else, Draco would have shivered at the memory.

The Cruciatus curse.

It had to be some powerful dark wizard that plagued him. But Draco had grown up with enough dark spells and curses that it wouldn't really bother him, except for tiny, little, insignificant fact that he had been the victim.

Now there was a riddle. Draco was from one of the most powerful, well known, and whispered about families in the wizarding community. What could any dark wizard hope to gain by hurting him? A hold over his father maybe? Right. Use Draco as a bargaining chip. That would work. If his father happened to really care about him, which he didn't.

There goes that theory.

Maybe he and Ginny could figure it out later...

Stop. Hold it. Where did that come from? I'm not telling her anything,

Draco ordered himself firmly.

Deal or no deal, he obviously hadn't been thinking clearly the previous day. Ginny Weasley was already causing him enough trouble without him telling her everything and making it worse.

Draco's thoughts crashed then.

Oh, great. Now I'm thinking of her by her first name, Draco griped to himself sarcastically.

Was the insanity in his family surfacing again? What was wrong with him?

Draco groaned again, rubbing at his sleep clouded eyes as if he could clear his mind of the unwanted thoughts while he was at it.

Unlike what Madame Pomfrey thought, the sound had nothing to do with discomfort, or pain. It was purely mental turmoil.

The frowning nurse hustled back to his bedside, interrupting his thoughts and making him start.

She didn't seem to notice, and held out the glass of ice water she carried in her hand.

"No need to moan and carry on," she scolded him. " You're not hurt."

Maybe not physically,

he thought gloomily, but there's still time to discover that I've undergone sudden mental changes in light of a very dangerous curse that would have me sitting in Dumbledore's office in about two seconds flat if I ever told anyone what had happened.

Outwardly, he simply smiled innocently at her and nodded in recognition of the water she'd brought him- even if he couldn't force himself to say thank you- causing her disapproving stare to change to one of wariness.

What was he up to?

Draco just smiled deceivingly again, and maneuvered himself from the bed.

Fortunately she had left him in the same clothes he had arrived in, thus saving him from immense embarrassment.

He felt like surprising her even more, so he swept her a charming, courtly bow. " I believe I shall be on my way now, Madame." With that said, he strode out of the room, leaving a disturbed and extremely baffled nurse behind, her jaw hanging open.

Grinning to himself as he stepped into the corridor, Draco wondered why he'd never thought of that before. Maybe because it wasn't properly evil enough, his Slytherin side reminded him.

His smile faded, replaced by a confused look. It was right. It really wasn't a very Slytherin thing to do. Then again, Slytherins were supposed to be cunning and sly, using any means to trick and disarm other people of their wits. He had certainly accomplished that.

He didn't have very much time to ponder the thoughts though, because as he swept around a corner he bumped into something - no, scratch that, something bumped into him. Malfoys didn't run into things. It wasn't done.- causing him to stagger slightly.

"Who the-" he began angrily, " Oh, it's you," he snarled.

Ginny flinched as if he had struck her. "Yes, it's me," she retorted when she could speak, a bit of her temper flaring up.

She had thought that maybe, just for once, all things considering, that they could have a civilized conversation, without resorting to insults and jests. Apparently, she was wrong. "And where are you going in such a rush?"

Draco watched her welcoming face harden in an instant at his harsh words. He felt what might have been a small pain of regret for a moment, but that was all, and the feeling was gone in less than a second.

"I...I'm heading to..." he stammered before suddenly realizing that he didn't, in fact, have any clue where he was going.

This didn't improve his mood. Draco wasn't used to being so preoccupied with thoughts that he didn't pay attention to his surroundings. Being constantly aware of what was going on around him was very important to a Malfoy. It was how they accumulated information that could later be turned to their advantage.

"It's none of your business where I'm going," he finally snapped back, irritated at himself for his lack of attention and automatically taking it out on the first person in sight.

I would run into her now, wouldn't I? Of all the luck.

"Fine," Ginny said giving in with a tired sigh. The last thing she wanted right now was another row with Draco.

Though she could certainly think of a few not-so-nice things she could say to him, she didn't feel like getting started. It wasn't worth it.

Besides,

the faint rumbling in her belly reminded her, I haven't had breakfast yet, and it's never good to fight on an empty stomach.

She saw Draco watching her out of the corner of his eye as she turned away, even though he kept an annoyed, disinterested look on his face.

"I'll see you at three," she called over her shoulder as she walked away.

If he's still planning on telling me anything,

she thought to herself. She wouldn't doubt it if he had changed his mind already. It was very likely that since he was back to being the old Draco today, he would back out on their deal.

And even if he does, I'm not going to go to Dumbledore

. The thought made Ginny sigh inwardly.

Although she would have liked to, just to try and help him, she knew that Draco would ask for her help if he wanted it. Until then, she wouldn't meddle in his affairs. At least, not unless things got worse.

Ginny shivered, remembering the look of pain on Draco's face back in the dungeon. How could things possibly get worse than that?

Maybe she would go to Dumbledore after all.

Draco didn't know that though, which meant she still held a slight hope that he wouldn't change his mind.

That fragile hope was shattered when a second later, Draco had whirled back around to face her. He had been starting to walk away when he heard her parting comment.

"No, you won't." His voice was quiet, but firm. No reason, no explanation, just that statement of fact.

He must have been crazy yesterday, agreeing to tell her everything like that. What had he been thinking?

That was the problem,

he told himself. He hadn't been thinking.

Ginny whirled around to face him.

"You have to tell me. We made a deal!" She was surprised by the sudden anger she felt. She had known that Draco might change his mind, why was it bothering her so much?

Because I care about him.

The thought came unbidden to her mind, and for a moment she could think of nothing else. She cared about him? Where had that come from?

Clearly a moment of insanity

, she reasoned as she shook her head in outward denial.

"I changed my mind." Draco interrupted her thoughts. Seeing Ginny's fire-fueled look, he quickly added, " I'm allowed."

This didn't set very well with Ginny at all, but she took a moment to attempt to calm her anger by convincing herself that a battered Draco would not be a pretty sight.

"Alright," she conceded, her voice tight. "I guess this matter will have to be taken to Dumbledore."

Ginny was well aware that she sounded a lot like she was being a tattle-tale, but she couldn't think of anything else to do. Who knew, the next time whatever had happened to Draco could end up killing him.

Not that there would be very many people who would miss him, but Ginny suddenly realized that she would be one of the few who would. If someone had told her two weeks earlier that she would miss Draco Malfoy if he were to fall off the face of the planet, she would have told them to go antagonize a dragon.

Not now.

She knew she would miss those gray, mostly emotionless eyes, and that silvery blonde hair that always framed his perfectly shaped face ever since he had finally gotten rid of the over-rated hair gel. And more than anything, she knew she would miss his smile. Not the smirk or sneer or mocking grin that he gave everyone else, but that one, genuine smile that he had given her in the potions classroom, before he'd been injured.

"Fine, go to Dumbledore." Draco said, surprising her. " It's your word against mine. No one else saw anything, and no else knows anything."

Ginny had to bite off a curse at his words. He was right. Why should Dumbledore believe her over Malfoy? She didn't think being the little sister of one of Harry Potter's best friends would make a very good argument.

Thinking hard, she could come up with no way around the situation. She couldn't prove anything.

So I'll just have to wait until I can,

she thought, a plan springing to life in her mind.

Draco, who had been watching Ginny try to come up with a way to get Dumbledore to believe her, and then realize that she couldn't, was surprised to see that spark of fire twinkle in her luminous brown eyes once more and a smile pass across her face. He was even more surprised when she looked up and met his eyes a moment later.

"Okay, you win Draco. I'm not going to go to Dumbledore now."

And "now" is the key word.

"You're not?" Draco asked doubtfully. He could hardly believe that she'd give in without so much as a small fight.

"No, I'm not." Ginny smiled sweetly at him again, waiting for the inevitable question.

Draco didn't disappoint. "Why not?" His doubt had changed to sudden suspicion, and he found himself experiencing a feeling of great foreboding. Just what was she planning?

"No reason." she lied easily, feeling immensely gratified at the stunned look on his face as she turned and headed once more towards the Great Hall.

*

However shocked he was, Draco wasn't one to stand around like an idiot with his mouth hanging open in the middle of a fairly well used corridor. As soon as Ginny was out of sight, his senses returned, causing his jaw to shut with a snap.

Draco looked hastily around, wondering whether anyone had noticed his momentarily unguarded expression. He saw a small group of Ravenclaw first years coming down the hall towards him, but they seemed to have been too far away at the time to have heard or seen anything.

Still, Draco gave them his trademark Malfoy glare as they walked by, just to be safe.

It appeared to have the desired effect because the students' eyes widened and they tread carefully around him, then almost tripped over each other in their haste to get away after they had passed him.

Good

.

Draco permitted himself a small smile of triumph. It was nice to know that he still held sway over the larger part of the student population at least. Even if the youngest Weasley did present a problem to his authority over a situation.

No matter how well thought-out and planned (to perfection, he might add) his remarks-or insults- were, Ginny always managed to surprise him.

One moment, the conversation would be going exactly the way Draco had planned it, the next, she had, by all appearances, been taken hostage by something, enabling her to throw insults back in his face and completely turn the tables on him.

It was unnerving.

He was so busy trying to figure out how that happened that he didn't even notice he was still standing in the middle of the hallway, a thoughtful look easily read on his face.

"Draco?"

"Hmm?" Draco asked before snapping back to reality and glancing up at the man now standing in front of him. "I mean, yes, Professor Snape?"

It was the closest Draco ever came to a respectful tone.

"What are you doing?" Snape asked, somehow managing to sound disapproving and mildly puzzled at the same time.

"Nothing. Nothing at all, Sir." Sure, Snape wouldn't suspect anything now.

"Obviously," the Professor said, frowning. "Well, if you intend to stand around daydreaming, perhaps it would be better done in the common room, where you won't become such an...attraction?"

Draco's head swung around, taking in the curious glances of several students who seemed to be standing around with no other motive in mind except to gawk at him.

"Right," he agreed. The last thing he needed was to be the topic of school gossip.

Not that he wasn't already, it was just that before, the subject had always been his good looks and devastating Malfoy disposition.

Draco wanted to keep it that way.

Snape gave him another suspicious glance, but become distracted at the great clatter of noise that could be heard coming from the Great Hall. Without another word to Draco, he strode off in that direction, a disapproving frown hung firmly in place.

Draco watched him go, a bit curious as to what was causing all that racket himself. The group of students who had been standing so firmly rooted the spot around him just a moment ago, much like permanent fixtures, had disappeared entirely, apparently going to check out the source of the noise as well.

Torn between reflecting privately back in the Slytherin common room and satisfying his most unwanted, but strangely dominant trait, curiosity, Draco finally had the decision decided for him.

A young girl- she couldn't be more than a first or second year- came running by from the direction of the Great Hall, completely covered in something that looked suspiciously like scrambled eggs. She was clutching her book bag to her side, (it was also covered in food) and looking quite capable of bursting into tears at any given moment.

Draco set off in the direction of the Great Hall warily, the sounds of shrieking students still filling his ears and another noise, something Draco couldn't place, but now had the sneaking suspicion he knew what it was.

His speculation was confirmed a moment later when he reached the Hall. He had barely cracked open the door when a large, greasy piece of flying sausage hit him squarely in the face.