All Fall Down

Draco wasn't sure why he'd picked such a gloomy day to finally leave the walls of Hogwarts and act like a normal human being. It had just rained, and he squelched through the puddles, squinting through the fog surrounding the village of Hogsmeade. He hadn't really intended to go out at all, but when he'd suddenly blown up his cauldron in potions class, it had been time to step out and go shopping. It wasn't that bad, really. He didn't know anyone here, so he didn't have to pretend.

His reflection mocked him as he looked down into the murky water collected around the street. Stepping firmly into it, he moved on, down the road, passing signs for stores and bars, looking for a place that might sell what he needed. Finally, he found a promising title, "Medea's Magical Necessities," and walked up to the door, stretching out a hand to open it. But as he did so, it burst ajar, and a surprisingly familiar figure stood in the doorway, looking almost as surprised as he was.

"Ah, Monsieur Malfoy!" Fleur shook back her sheet of silvery hair to regard him in her mildly sensuous way. "Ah did not expect to zee you 'ere!"

Draco stared. "Ah, yes, hello, you either...may I go in now?" Her presence in the doorway was preventing him from entering without being impolite. Since when do I care about being polite, he wondered? Why did he keep meeting this young woman? And why did she act as if they'd been friends or something? "I...have a lot to do."

"But of course," she purred, and instead of moving out of his way, she took him by the arm and pulled him inside. Draco was frustrated, wanted to jerk away. This had been so refreshing until she'd come along again...just like in his café. What did she want with him? "What eez eet that you desire, Monsieur?"

Draco shuffled his feet and pulled gently away from her long fingers. "I...I came to buy a cauldron-!" She cut him off with a nod, and called over to the portly woman behind the counter.

"Un cauldron for the young master," she said, and looked towards Draco. "Of what kind?"

"Pewter," he muttered, staring at the floor. Leave me alone, he wanted to say, but that would be too much like...well, like Draco Malfoy, really. Maybe he could just slip out when she turned her back-

"UN pewter cauldron," she amended, and the woman nodded, turned, and rummaged around for a few minutes, before heaving the item of his interest onto the desk. "'Ow much?" Fleur wanted to know.

"10 silver sickles," the woman said in her friendly, scratchy voice. Before Draco could do anything, Fleur had reached for her purse, and dropped the money on the counter.

"Bonsoir," she said the shopkeeper, nodding, before turning and sweeping from the store. "Come, Monsieur Malfoy." Draco stared. What had just happened?

"Wait," he called, "I can't let you...I mean, thank you, but..."

"Think nothing of eet," she replied airily, slipping her purse into a pocket that seemed to suddenly appear in her cloak.

"But," Draco tried again, becoming more and more irritated, though knowing he should be grateful, "I don't understand, why are you-!"

"Would you join me for a meal, monsieur?" Fleur asked, cutting him off once again. "Ah know a lovely little café, down the street a bit."

"NO," Draco roared, startling himself and the lovely part-veela. "No, I'm sorry, but I don't even know you, really, miss, and I'm really not in the mood to be played with right now. Is there something that you want, something I can help you with? I don't have all day." He felt a bit guilty about the outburst, and yet, this was really too much.

Fleur batted her eyelashes at him, looking slightly hurt. "But Monsieur...ah am just hoping to 'ave some time to chat. Pourquoi, is it a problem?"

* * * * *

It was already late afternoon when Ginny managed to slip away from her schoolmates and find some time alone in her dormitory. She sat on the bed and dangled her feet off the end, staring at her carpeted floor, and wondered her parents and brothers back home. Had they had any success in locating Percy yet? Were they all okay?

Taking out a piece of parchment and a feather quill from her bedside drawer, she sprawled herself out across her pillows to compose a letter to Bill. She knew someone would have written to her if anything had come up...but she wanted to be sure. She wanted to hear from Bill that everything really was all right back home. I miss mom, she thought. And dad, and everyone. I'm too old to be homesick.

Head bent over the parchment, Ginny didn't see when the windows slid quietly open. She didn't notice the silent intruders, silhouetted against the wall, until the door suddenly slammed shut behind her, and she started up in alarm, which changed to pure terror as she stared up at the ceiling.

Heads drooped to their chests, two shuddering, shimmering forms hung just in view. As recognition dawned, Ginny let out a long anguished cry. "PE-RCY!" She jumped out of bed, trying desperately to grab at the hands of the limp form. "Percy," she kept whispering, "Penny..."

The forms didn't speak, but the ghost that was unmistakably Penelope floated down, and put a hand gently to Ginny's cheek. Ginny shivered, feeling the icy, spine tingling touch, but again trying to grasp it, like an anchor to her sanity. Looking up into the eyes of her former sister-in-law, she saw the blank, whiteness of them, and shivered again.

"Who's done this to you," she whispered, tears running down her cheeks. "What's happened, Perce? Can you hear me? See me, Percy, look at me!" Ginny waved her hands wildly, desperate to gain her brother's attention. Percy seemed not to notice her at all, but moved quietly downward, towards the door, and then through it, followed by Penelope. "NOOO..." Ginny cried, yanking the door open and staring around. "Don't leave me..."

Catching a shimmer in the corner of her eye, she whirled, and saw her the two transparent forms floating off down the corridor. She began to run after them, but no matter how fast she ran, they seemed to elude her, around the next corner, down the next hall, through the next door. Before she knew what was happening, she was out of breath, leaning against the wall of a strange room. But in a moment, it wasn't so strange, Ginny realized, staring around. She had wandered right in to the out of order girl's bathroom at the other end of the school.

Percy and Penelope were hovering above one of the stalls, beckoning her closer. "What?" She asked, panting. "Percy...stop running away, I can't keep up..." she closed her eyes, but felt cold hands on her arm. "Stop...All right, I'm coming..." Ginny walked forward, gazed up at the ghosts, who nodded encouragingly. "I don't understand...Penny...?" Penelope said nothing, just looked towards the stall.

Ginny hunched her shoulders, opened the door, and screamed.

* * * * *

Hermione truly hated potions class. Over the years, she'd tried in vain to gain some understanding, some tolerance for the course and it's teacher, Professor Snape, but ever since the incident when her front teeth had grown several feet, she'd never been able to quite enjoy it. She knew how Ron and Harry felt about it, and though she'd chided them for being stupid about it, they were right. It really was pure torture.

"Miss Granger," a sharp voice barked from the center of the room, jerking Hermione out of her stupor. "We are confident, aren't we, not to be paying attention in class?" Suppressing a groan, Hermione displayed her meticulous notes to Snape over Seamus's head. Ron rolled his eyes at her, and she grinned back.

"Don't be smart with me, Granger," snapped the Professor. "5 points from Gryffindor."

"Oh, shove off," Hermione heard a voice behind her say, and turned to see Thetis glaring at the teacher. They shared a quick smile before Snape returned to his lecture, and Hermione felt a bit better about last night's occurrences. Maybe Thetis would get over it all and move on. Really, she'd never expected such a reaction from her schoolmates...

Snape cleared his throat, drawing her attention reluctantly back to the front of the room. "It is part of the seventh year potions curriculum," he began, looking repulsed by the very idea, "for me to teach you how to concoct a love potion." Hermione stared, and she heard Harry knock over his ink bottle with his elbow in his shock. A dull roar echoed around the room, as students discussed this turn of events. "Silence," hissed Snape, waiting for the hubbub to die down.

"I must impose on you the true danger of these potions." A few snickers followed his words, quickly stifled. "You think it's funny, do you?" Apparently the class did, because even more chuckles erupted. Snape shook his head. "A love potion can warp a mind, cause feelings in a person that are false and futile. It can torture the soul-!"

"Oh, give up," muttered a voice from the far back of the class. "It's just a stupid love draught, not the killing curse, for gods sake." Everyone whirled around in their seats, to see Draco Malfoy leaning against the door post. Snape glared, apparently as surprised as the rest of the class. "Mr. Malfoy...do you care to explain why you've come so late to my class?"

"Where the heck has he been?" Asked Ron in a whisper, nudging Hermione in the shoulder.

"I don't know," she replied, watching Snape, "but it doesn't look like he's going to get away with this one. Look at Snape!"

Harry grinned. "He looks like he's about to turn him into a toad..."

"Or a ferret. Now that was something..." Ron sighed. "Good old Professor Moody. Even if he wasn't really Moody. Ah well."

"What about a ferret?" Asked Thetis from behind them. Hermione gestured for her to be quiet.

"I'll tell you later," Ron whispered, turning his attention back to Malfoy. "It was really something, all right..."

"I had other things to do," Draco muttered, finding his seat. "I had to be elsewhere."

"Other things, more important than my class? I would be careful if I were you." Snape was positively livid, Hermione had never seen him this angry at anyone in his own house before. "If you find my class unimportant, I suggest that you leave. Now."

To everyone's surprise, Draco did. He got up, nodded at Snape, and left the room, followed by the excited whispers of the class. "Well, that gets rid of him," said Dean, a little too loudly.

"Silence, Thomas," Snape roared, sweeping to the door. "I have to find that boy and report him. Class dismissed!" He rushed out of the room and down the hall, leaving Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Thetis utterly perplexed.

"That wasn't like Malfoy at all," voiced Hermione, puzzled. "I wonder what it was all about."

Ron shrugged. "Maybe he finally realized that everyone hates him, and decided to give them reasons for it."

Harry was shaking his head, looking mutinous. "Forget Malfoy...what about the love potions?"

"Oh yeah...I'd forgotten about that." Ron looked glum again. "Horrible idea, really...it's going to be a rough road from here on out."

"What's so bad about love potions?" Asked Hermione, startled. Turning sly, she asked innocently, "Surely, there's someone you could find to...ah, test them on, isn't there?"

Ron and Harry looked at the table and went bright red, while Thetis chuckled. "But really," muttered Harry, composing himself, "Imagine having a love draught slipped into your pumpkin juice at breakfast, and before you know it, you're head over heels for...Millicent Bulstrode or something."

"Eugh," agreed Ron and Thetis at once, before looking at each other and grinning. Hermione smiled. She'd known Harry and Ron would accept Thetis...she was probably feeling better already.

"Do you think he hates me?" Thetis asked them, looking anxiously at the doorway that students were filing out of.

"Who, Snape? Oh don't worry, he hates everyone. I'd say, everyone except Malfoy, but looks like that's changed." Harry smiled, but Thetis shook her head.

"Not Snape..." She looked at her desk for a long time, biting her lip.

"Not Snape?" Hermione was confused again. "Who do you mean, then?"

"Ah...no one." Thetis stood up quickly. "Looks like class is over, yes? I'll see you three later." She rushed out of the room. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared after her.

"Weird," commented Ron, starting to shove his books back into his bag.

"She is not!" Hermione said angrily, glaring at him. Ron looked up at her, surprised.

"I don't mean Thetis, I mean Draco, and Snape, and all. The way they've been acting. Something's up, you know, something we're not picking up on. Something's up with her, too, but," and he shrugged, indicating his disinterest.

Hermione was about to retort hotly on Thetis's behalf when Harry cut in. "He's right...it's really odd. Where was Draco, anyway? It's not like him to just miss class like that."

"Let's ask him," said Ron, startling them both.

"What?" Asked Hermione, "Just go up and say, 'Hullo Draco, we were just wondering what you were doing today, even though we've been enemies for years, we just thought we'd chat you up a bit.' Really, Ron."

Ron shook his head. "Dunno, but he seemed pretty proud of it, didn't he? Have you ever known Malfoy not to flaunt what he's proud of? He'll probably tell us, even if we don't ask. So we'll just speed things up a bit. Come on, let's go ask him before we get stuck with something else to do."

Harry nodded. "All right...sounds plausible...and I hate when Malfoy gets this cocky anyway. If we find out, we can probably tell Snape and get him in real trouble. I bet it's something awful, it usually is."

As they hurried out of the room, ready to go off to dinner, they were stopped in the hall by Professor McGonagall, looking flustered. "Mr. Weasley," she said, trying to smile, and ending up just looking tired, "You wouldn't know where your sister is, would you? We can't find her anywhere...she missed her two classes, and it's not like her at all...I'm afraid something's wrong..." She straightened her glasses on her nose, failing to look unconcerned. Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off yet again by Ron.

"Ginny?" Asked Ron, eyes widening. "She's never cut class in her life..." And before anyone could stop him, Ron was thundering up towards the common room, with Harry and Hermione at a run to keep up.