Ginny Weasley and the Heirs of Darkness

Chapter Seven: Sortings and Confusion

Draco sat at the Slytherin table, waiting impatiently for the feast to begin. Bronwen Zabini was seated across from him, and he weighed carefully the idea of saying something to her. An internal shrug. Why not?

"Bronwen."

She turned, smiling. "Yes?"

"What did Blaise say to you, that you pulled that little stunt on the train today?" He looked down the table, hoping no one was listening to their conversation. Good. Unlike Granger, most Slytherins knew better than to eavesdrop on Draco Malfoy.

Bronwen looked genuinely confused. "Blaise?" she asked, glancing over at where her sister was leaning toward the Ravenclaw table, gossiping with Lisa Turpin. "She didn't tell me anything." Her eyes narrowed, and she gave him an appraising look. "Why, what happened with you and Blaise? Something during the prefects' weekend?"

"No, nothing," Draco said firmly, voice cool. He was starting to regret bringing this up with Bronwen, but maybe he could squeeze something out of her yet. "But I want to know why you felt the need to 'introduce' me to your friends...."

Her eyes were wide, innocent. "No reason," she said disarmingly. "Why?"

Draco glared. He so rarely had to go up against one of his fellow Slytherins, especially the girls, and this cutely wily façade of Bronwen's was already getting on his nerves. "Never mind."

Bronwen wasn't interested in letting it drop so easily. "Does this have anything to do with Ginny Weasley?" she asked slyly, crossing her fingers under the table that her friend wouldn't kill her for this later.

"Aside from the fact that she was there on the train today, Bronwen, I don't know," Draco snapped, his face unreadable.

Bronwen leaned towards him slightly. "She told me you saw the book I gave her."

"Yes."

Draco could be so frustratingly intractable when he wanted to be, Bronwen thought, annoyed. She decided to lay everything on the table, playing for shock factor. "I think you like her, Draco."

Unlike Ginny, Draco didn't react in nearly such a satisfying way. He merely looked offended. "I don't normally waste my time on Gryffindors."

"Implying that I do?" Bronwen asked sharply, eyes glittering with anger.

"Take it how you want to, Bronwen," Draco replied, turning away from her, bored with the conversation. "They're bringing in the first-years."

"Draco," said Julius, who was sitting next to him. "Are those redheads the ones to watch for?"

Draco nodded. "Frédéric and Georgine Belleton. McYawnagall will probably Sort them last."

Julius and Bronwen both snickered. "McYawnagall, Draco? Nice," Bronwen commented.

He grinned at her, the nasty words they had exchanged already forgotten. "Fits, doesn't it?"

Clearing her throat loudly, Professor McGonagall rustled a long roll of parchment. "It is now time for the Sorting," she announced, her loud, clear voice needing no magical amplification to echo the entire length of the Great Hall. She looked at the first-years. "Please step forward when I call your name. Altenfirst, Alessandra."

A tiny black-haired girl stepped forward, primly placing the hat atop her head. "RAVENCLAW!" it shouted. The Ravenclaw table clapped politely, and Head Girl Cho Chang rose to welcome Alessandra to her house.

The Sortings continued, and Draco watched disinterestedly, clapping only when new Slytherins arrived. "Hagan, Aelred," called McGonagall.

"GRYFFINDOR!" Draco turned to watch the boy scurry to the loudly cheering Gryffindor table, where he nervously took the empty seat next to prefect Ginny Weasley. She smiled at him, said some presumably comforting words, and Aelred visibly relaxed. Look away, Draco commanded himself.

The rest of the Sortings passed quickly; Yennerow, Callistus was the final new Hufflepuff, and Zabini, Dante ("My little cousin!" Bronwen told Draco and Julius) was Sorted into Slytherin, taking a seat next to Blaise.

McGonagall cleared her throat again, and the four houses, all of which were noisily greeting their new members, turned their attention back to the Head of Gryffindor House. "We have two special new students this term- they have transferred," Draco and Bronwen shared a grin at the euphemism, "from Beauxbatons Academy in France, and will be joining the fifth-year class. Belleton, Frédéric," she called.

Draco noticed Julius trying to catch his eye, and he shrugged. Frédéric sat on the stool, waiting patiently. The Hall was silent. Finally, after much deliberation, the hat called, "SLYTHERIN!" and Julius nodded at Draco, lookineased.

"Belleton, Georgine."

The hat didn't take nearly as long with the girl. It had barely touched her ruddy curls before shouting, "SLYTHERIN!" just as it had for her brother. The Slytherin table, particularly the fifth-years, clapped rowdily, then the feast appeared and was fully under way.

"You ask them, Draco, you're the one who knows them."

"Frédéric, Georgine," he called to the twins, who were seated a few places away.

"Yes?"

"Either of you play Quidditch?"

The twins' quiet expressions animated suddenly. "We do," said Frédéric. "Georgine's a Chaser, and I'm a Seeker." He frowned. "Well, wee, anyway."

"Are you any good?" Julius interrupted.

Georgine sniffed. "Well, of course we're good."

Julius's dark eyes coolly met Georgine's blue ones. "Prove that on the pitch, and you can be our new Chaser." His gaze turned to Frédéric. "Afraid the first team already has a Seeker," he said, pointing his thumb at Draco, "but the reserves could use someone decent. Are you two interested?"

Quick nods of agreement from both twins. Julius looked satisfied. "Good. Meet me on the pitch tomorrow, and I'll take you through a condensed version of the team trials." He smiled. "If you're even half as good as the people who graduated last spring, we'll be in luck."

Bronwen looked pleased. "Good, I won't be the only girl," she said, offering a hand to Georgine. "I'm Bronwen Zabini. I saw you on the train, but Draco couldn't be bothered to introduce us," she continued, casting him a pointed glance, which he just as pointedly ignored, "even though I had just extended him the same courtesy." She smiled. "Anyway, welcome to Slytherin."

Georgine smiled back. "Thank you. Are you a fifth-year as well?"

"I am. So you'll be moving into my dormitory." Bronwen pointed at other girls who were peppered all the way down the table. "So is Anobel Armour, there, the pale blonde; Pearl Gedgrave, the brunette wearing the prefect badge; and Moira Quinn, the tall girl near the end."

Georgine nodded, taking them all in. "Is this the entire school?" she asked, scanning the Great Hall.

"Yes," Bronwen nodded, "why?"

"It's just not very many, is all. Beauxbatons serves not only France, but Switzerland and the Benelux countries as well. It's about twice this size."

Bronwen's pride flared. "Hogwarts is very exclusive," she snapped. She found Georgine to be a bit stuck-up, and coming from a wealthy Slytherin girl, that was quite an observation. Georgine might look a little bit like her friend Ginny Weasley, but Bronwen didn't like her nearly as well.

She looked over her shoulder at the Gryffindor table, smugly noting that Draco Malfoy's eyes had been drawn there, too. Ginny was engaged in conversation with a small first-year boy seated next to her, and he was gazing at her in adoration as she helped him pour more pumpkin juice. Bronwen shook her head ruefully. For all that Ginny tried to be so cool and rebellious, with her short skirts and Bill's black motorcycle boots, she still managed to be insufferably adorable sometimes.

At that moment, Ginny looked up, eyes scanning the Slytherin table. Bronwen smiled, knowing she was not the one Ginny sought. Her friend's gaze did eventually alight on Bronwen, though, and Ginny pretended she had been trying to meet Bronwen's eyes rather than Draco's. Bronwen waved, and Ginny waved back, tilting her head in the direction of the first-year at her side.

"Isn't he cute?" she mouthed.

Bronwen nodded back, amused. Ginny was such a mother in some ways. She smothered a giggle, thinking of the comment she'd made to Gin on the train about freckled blond Slytherin babies. Ginny raised an eyebrow, wondering what her friend was laughing at. Bronwen just shook her head. "Tell you later," she mouthed back.

"Are you always talking to someone at the Slytherin table, Gin?" Ron asked, poking his sister with the end of his spoon.

"No," she replied, feeling irritable. Would Ron always feel the need to treat her like a child? she wondered, mentally mimicking his words. "I just had a comment for Bronwen. Don't you hate the fact that we have to sit at these stupid house tables, instead of with our friends?"

Ron glanced at her sharply. "Not that again, Gin. Especially not," he continued, glancing at the nearby first-years, "right now. Alright?" He met her eyes. "Besides, all your real friends are in Gryffindor."

Ginny looked down at her plate, the painful realization that Ron completely misunderstood her hitting her with full force. She sighed. It wasn't worth going into, especially not now, but it still stung. She looked up at the Slytherin table again. Bronwen had turned around, but a pair of silver eyes were staring directly at her.

Deciding to take a risk, Ginny gave Draco a small smile, and to her surprised pleasure, he guardedly returned it. It wasn't a genuine smile, precisely, but it wasn't his typically smug smirk, either. She felt her cheeks growing warm, so she turned away, starting to ask Aelred a question, when Dumbledore rose, tapping his goblet with a spoon.

"I have a few beginning of term announcements, as usual," he declared above the din of students exuberantly hushing each other. "The first is that we have with us a new Defense Against Dark Arts professor." He gestured, and a pretty young woman rose, smiling at the students. "Her name is Professor Gillund. I expect all of you to give her a warm welcome, both here and in your classes." He started clapping, and everyone else joined in the applause. When the room had quieted again, he continued. "As usual, the forest on the grounds is strictly forbidden. Finally, the entire Restricted Section has now been removed from the library. Fifth-, sixth- and seventh-years, if you need the books for special projects, you will have to request them from me personally."

His eyes regained their usual spunk. "And now for the school song," he announced. The rest of the head table winced, but Dumbledore didn't seem to care in the least- the golden letters shot out of his wand, and the verses arranged themselves high in the air. Choosing the tune of a Muggle rock song Bill had played for her over the summer, Ginny belted out the words with relish, amused as always by the silly tradition.

She turned to Aelred, who had just finished singing using the tune to 'Ring Around the Roses.' "Well, that's everything, then. Ready to see your new home at Hogwarts?"

He nodded, and Ginny rose, noting that up and down all four tables, her fellow prefects were standing. Hufflepuff filed out of the Great Hall, with Slytherin not far behind. "Gryffindors, this way," called Katie Bell, waving her housemates to the doors, through the entryway and in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. Jostling past the Ravenclaws, who were also turning left past the main staircase, Katie and Skylar led the Gryffindors up and down several stairways, through the occasional odd passage, and to the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Password?" she asked.

Skylar consulted a sheet of paper. "Treacle tart," he said clearly, and the portrait swung open. Helping some of the shorter first-years scramble through the opening, he reminded them as they passed, "Take note of the password, it's very important. If you forget, you'll have to wait outside until someone comes to let you in."

Soon all the Gryffindors, both new and old, were settled comfortably in their dormitories, most of them fast asleep thanks to their warmly full stomachs. But Ginny was awake long after she heard the breaths of her dorm mates Lacy, Wendolin, Jana, and Grace fall softly and evenly into deep slumber.

***

In the Slytherin common room, Georgine and Frédéric Belleton were still awake as well, exchanging hushed comments.

"Did you see her at dinner?"

Georgine nodded. "At the other table? Yes, I saw Ginny Weasley." She spat the name out, looking sulky. "She might be our cousin, but I don't think she looks so much like me." <>

"It doesn't matter- she looked enough like you to trick Eliane and Delphine."

"And take my clothes," Georgine sniffed.

Frédéric rolled his eyes. "Oh, honestly. You got new ones, and Father wasn't angry with you." He leaned closer to his sister. "Father knew all along about her, Georgine. He had to have."

p>

"Knew? What do you mean he knew?"

"Somehow, I think he guessed what had happened in Diagon Alley. When Eliane and Delphine argued with you, saying you'd been with them when you'd really been in the Quidditch store- he wasn't surprised at all. He was even less surprised when we saw Ginny with Harry Potter later, after the Malfoys left." Frédéric frowned. "I don't like any of it, Georgine. And I feel like a pawn, don't you?"

She nodded slowly. "Well, I'll admit I've been having second thoughts since we left home." She chewed the edge of her lip thoughtfully. "I mean, Mother and Father were acting strangely..." she trailed off, still nibbling on her lower lip. "Frédéric? Do you find it odd we weren't punished at all for what we did?"

Her twin mirrored her concerned expression. "Yes. At the time, I assumed that they felt losing our wands was punishment enough, but you're right, it is bizarre. We're banned from doing magic in France ever again, and they just pat us on the head and ship us off to England? Not like them at all."

"Exactly." Georgine rose from the couch, pacing in front of her brother. With her halo of red hair backlit by the fire, she looked eerily unreal. "The Delacours got us kicked out, Eff. Of that, I'm positive. But Hogwarts-" She spun to face Frédéric. "Maman told us we could go to any school we chose. But Mme. Maxime chose Hogwarts, and when Father found out, he seemed pleased. And now he wants us to keep an eye on these Weasley kids and Harry Potter, and send letters to that Icarus person-" Abruptly, she sat again. "Something doesn't quite make sense."

Frédéric nodded his agreement. "You're right, Ji. Let's think about this logically. The Delacours make sure we're kicked out of Beauxbatons. That's not a surprise- they hate us. Maman tells us we can choose a school, and then she tells us that we'll return to France with honor, whatever that meant."

"It was creepy," Georgine interjected, making a face.

"It was." Frédéric continued. "But we don't get to choose a school- for whatever reason, Mme. Maxime picks Hogwarts, and Father approves. My guess is, Mother and Father weren't expecting us to get kicked out of school, but since we did, they're using it to their advantage- for some reason, Father suddenly wants to reconnect with this distant branch of the family." He frowned. "But I somehow doubt it's because he had the urge for a cozy little reunion. Anyway, so Father contacts Mr. Malfoy, someone he hasn't spoken to since before we were born, and they meet in Diagon Alley while we're shopping. Things were said, but I don't know exactly what, and you were too busy looking at owls."

"Sorry," said Georgine unapologetically.

"Then Father tells us about Ginny, and we see her with Harry Potter. You remember what we heard about him this summer, right?"

Georgine nodded affirmatively. "All too well. He was the one who 'brought down Voldemort, Britain's most famous Dark wizard. The Boy Who Lived,'" she finished mockingly, as if parroting a comment she'd overheard. A frown. "There's a connection there somewhere, Eff. But what is it?"

"Mr. Malfoy," Frédéric said suddenly.

"What?"

"Mr. Malfoy," he repeated. "He must have worked for Voldemort in the past. That's why father would meet with him- he's trying to insert us into the British network of Dark wizards."

Georgine smiled. "Well, that makes sense, at least. But what does that have to do with the Weasleys? Especially if they're connected to this Potter kid, who seems to be the 'Knight of Goodness and Light?'"

Frédéric snickered at his sister's sarcastic tone. "I don't know yet." He yawned. "I think we've pieced together enough for tonight, though. Let's go to bed, shall we?"

***

The next morning at breakfast, Ginny guided the first-years (who seemed much less nervous then they had the night before) to their seats, then took a spot next to Harry. He was scanning his schedule, looking less than pleased. "Double Potions with the Slytherin two days a week," he was muttering around a mouthful of scrambled eggs. "Why do we always have that class with the Slytherins?"

Ginny grinned at him, tucking into her porridge. "Maybe because you hate it so much?" she teased. She tore open her own schedule, noting that a small note was slipped in with it.

Miss Weasley:

Please come to my classroom today and every Monday afternoon at four o'clock for your personal Transfiguration lesson.

-Professor McGonagall

Making sure no one had noticed the note, Ginny folded it and slid it back into the envelope, pulling out her schedule slip. "I think it's tradition," she said to Harry. "I have Potions with the Slytherins, too."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Cruel and unusual, that."

She ruffled his hair, in too good of a mood this morning to be annoyed by the anti-Slytherin commentary. "You would think so." She laughed. "But that's because the Slytherins in your year include Draco Malfoy and his two nasty bodyguards. Most of the fifth-years are alright, and I like partnering with Bronwen."

At the mention of Draco, Harry's eyes darkened. "Did Ron tell you what Malfoy said to Hermione during prefects' training?"

Ginny shook her head. "No, he didn't." She felt uneasy- she was still a bit miffy at Hermione, but she knew the older girl never fared well at Draco's hands.

Harry's voice lowered, and he cast an angry glare in the direction of the Slytherin table. "He called her a Mudblood again. Apparently Cho barely stopped Ron from slugging him for it." Harry sneered. "Would have served Malfoy right if she hadn't stopped him- he might not be so smug with a broken nose."

"Harry, slugging Draco wouldn't solve anything," Ginny said, but she felt sick- Mudblood was a horrible word, and while she knew Draco had used it in the past, she had somehow hoped.... But maybe it was like Fiona had suggested: once a nasty prat, always a nasty prat. Maybe people really couldn't change.

Harry was looking at her oddly. "Draco, now, is it? Since when are the two of you close friends?"

Ginny stared him down. "It's his name, isn't it?"

"I guess," he replied. But he didn't look happy.

Ginny rose from the table. "I have to go to Muggle Studies," she told Harry, kissing his cheek. He smiled, jollied out of his sudden sullenness, and he turned to meet her lips with his. She giggled, pulling away. "I have to go," she repeated, mussing his hair again.

He stood as well. "I'll walk you- I'm going to Divination," he said, making a face. "Time to foretell my own doom again, I guess."

"Well, don't succumb to your own doom too soon," she replied, taking his hand as they wove their way past the other three tables to the door. "I'd miss you terribly." Ginny was feeling smug. Today was the first time most of their fellow students had seen her and Harry together as a couple, and as their little display would have been hard to miss, fierce whispering had started at all four of the house tables.

Harry slipped his arm around her waist protectively. "I'd miss you, too," he muttered into her ear, mouth very close to her skin.

"Harry," she said in a warning tone. "There's a time and a place, and next to the Slytherin table is not it." She glanced to where several of her classmates were trying very hard not to stare and failing miserably. At least Draco wasn't there. She didn't want to see any more of the disdain that radiated so fiercely from his eyes.

Harry bumped into her, and Ginny was jostled out of her reverie. She looked up to see Draco glaring nastily at them over his shoulder- he had knocked into Harry on his way past them. "Too busy with your little girlfriend to watch where you're going, Potter?" he asked nastily. His gaze switched to Ginny. "I see you're still slumming." With a final glare at her, Draco spun on his heel and stalked away from them.

Ginny could feel the growing spots of color on her cheeks, and Harry's arm had tightened almost painfully around her waist. "I'd like to-" Harry began, eyes shooting green sparks after Draco's rapidly disappearing form.

"Don't say it, Harry," she interrupted. "You don't mean it."

"I might," he said, voice tight. "He disgusts me, Ginny." He raised his eyebrows at her. "Doesn't he make you angry?"

Ginny just sighed. "Let's go to class, I don't want to think about it right now."

Harry agreed, but he still looked grumpy when he dropped her off outside her Muggle Studies classroom.

Normally, Ginny tolerated Muggle Studies with an air of amused martyrdom; Professor Mekron was usually dull, but would occasionally discuss something that piqued Ginny's interest- compact disc players and Muggle music, for example, had intrigued her last term.

But today her mind was racing. What, exactly, had happened in the Great Hall that morning? She slid low in her chair, hiding behind the head of the tall Hufflepuff girl in front of her. She thought back to training weekend, trying to make sense of everything that had happened with Draco.

He had confronted her about the incident in Diagon Alley, and she'd admitted that she'd impersonated Georgine. He'd seemed amused by her, and after the book came up as a shared interest, he'd gone out of his way to talk to her, first at the morning meeting, and then again at dinner. Ron had accused her of staying behind from the Hogsmeade trip to spend time with Draco, and she'd been livid; he had seemed so off base.

It had briefly occurred to her that Draco might be interested in her, but she'd quashed the idea as ridiculous. Now she decided to mull it over some more.

Granted, he'd been nasty to her. But the flickers of nastiness seemed to crop up whenever Harry was the topic. Thinking back on most of the snide remarks Draco had made to her in the entire time she'd known him, they were all disdainful of her interest in Harry. That was something to consider further.

But why had he called Hermione a Mudblood? Not everything revolves around you, Gin, she reminded herself. He's always hated Hermione. Somehow, though, the two situations seemed related. Then she remembered- Draco had mentioned that Hermione was the one to tell him that Ginny was dating Harry. Her brow furrowed. Had Draco said that as some kind of a backlash?

Ginny mentally kicked herself and put her head down on her desk, safe in the knowledge that Professor Mekron was so absorbed in his lecture on televisions that he wouldn't even notice. She was getting too involved- Draco was on her mind constantly, and she had to forcibly remind herself that she was seeing Harry, even though he continued to do sweet things for her like walk her to class.

"Ginny," whispered Wendolin Higgins from across the aisle. "Are you feeling okay? You look sick."

Ginny smiled weakly at her housemate. "I'm fine, Wendolin."

Physically, anyway. But she was starting to wonder if she needed her head examined.