Twilight of the Dawn

Chapter Three

The revelation about Malfoy and his surprise visit over the summer left Ginny even more bewildered about the whole situation in general, and even more determined to figure out what was written in the book he'd given her. After weeks of staring at the incomprehensible languages contained therein, Ginny decided to enlist the help of an expert.

"Hermione," Ginny whispered as she slid into the seat next to her friend in the library. "I need your help, but you've got to promise not to tell Ron and Harry."

Hermione looked up from her parchment. "Only if you tell me where you've been going every morning instead of breakfast."

Ginny squirmed in her seat. "I can't."

Hermione dropped her quill and leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms above her head. "All right, I won't press." She smiled. "I promise not to tell the boys."

Relieved, Ginny pulled out the square vellum book. "I haven't gotten any where with this. Do you recognize the language?" she asked Hermione as she handed it over to her.

"Why do you need to know?" Hermione asked, flipping it open and running her eyes over the text.

Ginny bit her lip. "I can't tell you that either," she said, her tone apologetic.

Hermione arched an eyebrow at her, but didn't question further. "Well, it looks a bit like Centaur," she said. "See this, here? It's a map."

Ginny leaned over to see what Hermione was pointing at. "But it's all words," she protested, scanning down the page.

"In the right order, they form a map. Read it left to right and it tells you one thing. Right to left, another. Top to bottom... You see where I'm going with this?"

"Not really," Ginny said weakly.

"Hmmm... fascinating." She glanced up a Ginny, grinning. "Give me a bit of time, will you? I think I can work most of this out."

"Really?" she asked, amazed and grateful.

"Well," Hermione licked her finger and turned a page, "looks like there's a few different languages buried in here." She frowned in thought. "Here's a determinative, even."

"Determinative?"

"Hieroglyphic," Hermione explained. "This one means 'sun,' or perhaps 'time.'" She turned the book sideways. "On its side, I'd say the other signifies 'life,' but I'm not entirely sure." In her element, Hermione hopped out of her seat. "I'm going to see if I can find a book on Centaur," she said excitedly, then disappeared behind a towering row of books.

Ginny shook her head and stared after a friend, a wry chuckle on her lips. She should have known Hermione would know exactly where to start in the translation. She made to rise from the chair, but a firm hand on her shoulder kept her in place. Surprised, she looked up into Malfoy's scowling face.

"Yes?" she asked warily. She wasn't quite sure how to act around him anymore.

His hold tightened on her shoulder. "We need to talk," he growled, shifting his hand to grip her upper arm, roughly yanking her up out of her seat.

"Hey!" Ginny protested, tripping on the leg of her chair. She stumbled after him as he pulled her out of the library and into the darkened hall.

He spun her around and backed her into the wall. "You've been avoiding me."

Ginny blinked. Well, duh, she thought. "Is that a surprise to you?" she asked.

"Maybe," he said, eyes snapping fire, a bubbling rage visible just below the surface.

Ginny was completely perplexed with his anger. "You've lost me, Malfoy."

"Isn't a very hard thing to do," he muttered, moving a step away from her. He took a deep breath and schooled his features into an impassive mask. His clenched jaw, however, belied his nonchalance. "I want to know why you were so interested in my arm the other day."

Ginny had a funny feeling that he already knew why, and that he just wanted to hear her say the words. "You looked at mine," she shrugged nervously. "I looked at yours." The explanation sounded rather lame even to her own ears.

"Come off it, Weasley," he ground out, his recent composure crumbling. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them on either side of her head, leaning his face in close to hers. "What have you heard?"

Eyes wide, Ginny drew in a shaky breath. "N-nothing, Malfoy."

"I don't believe you," he said harshly, a hint of desperation tainting his voice.

"I swear, Malfoy," she whispered, pain radiating down her arms from his vise-like grip, "I haven't heard a thing. I don't know anything at all."

He cursed softly and touched his forehead to hers, his strong fingers still tight around her wrists. He stood there, breathing evenly and deeply, his eyes squeezed shut.

After several tense minutes, Ginny wiggled her rapidly numbing fingers. "Malfoy?" she questioned tentatively, her eyes level with his pale cheeks. His lips parted on a sigh and then he finally released her, almost reluctantly, and stepped back. She brought her hands into her chest, rubbing at the reddened skin, but otherwise didn't move, watching as he turned and walked silently away. She had the oddest urge to run after him, to comfort him. "Malfoy," she called out.

He paused and looked back at her, his face shadowed. "What?" he snarled.

She shook her head. "Nothing," she whispered and he nodded curtly before rounding a corner, and disappearing down the hall.

Draco stalked down the stairs, inwardly berating himself for the scene he'd just perpetuated with the little Weasley. He could only thank Merlin he'd had the good sense to drag her out of the library before completely losing it.

He was edgy about the coming months, his temper on a shorter fuse, his patience nearly down to nil. He would be called on soon to pledge his loyalty to the Dark Lord, and he couldn't sort out his feelings about the matter. There was no question of him refusing, of course, but he found himself walking around with a deep well of anger.

And the youngest Weasley... she was hiding something. He just knew it.

******

Hermione bent down and placed the Egyptology book she'd found on top of the short stack of Centaur and Astronomy tomes, along with the small, slim volume that Ginny had given her. Her back ached from the long hour she'd spent trolling the library rows, bogged down with heavy books, and she groaned a bit, rubbing the base of her spine, as she straightened.

She jumped when a warm hand covered her own, and spun to find Zabini's deep blue eyes staring down at her, his face creased in a small smirk. She took an involuntary step backwards and her heel hit the corner of her books, stumbling, but Zabini reached out and caught her around the waist.

"Careful, Granger," he said, squeezing her hips briefly before dropping his hands to his sides.

Hermione pressed her hands against her chest, trying to slow her rapidly beating heart. "What do you want, Zabini?"

Zabini arched a brow. "Now, Granger, you're supposed to be so smart. What else would I want, but," he reached over her head, smiling into her eyes, "a book." He slid a thick volume off the shelf above her.

"Fine," Hermione bristled, "you have your book, now leave me alone."

"Am I bothering you, Granger?" he asked, flipping open the book and idly paging through it before slamming it shut. "Wrong book," he said, sliding it back onto the shelf.

Hermione took deep, slow breaths, trying for outward calm. Inside, though, she was a mess. His tanned arm was only inches from her cheek as he gripped the shelf above her head - for the love of Merlin, he smells like sunshine, she thought - and she refused to look at him, her eyes focused on the display of dragon books across the isle. She could feel him watching her, his gaze intense on her face. Hex me and get it over with! She silently screamed. The waiting and dreading were making her crazy. Finally, she snapped, "Oh, for Merlin's sake, Zabini, just do it!"

He dropped his hand from the shelf and straightened. "Do what?"

She turned her head to look at him. "You know," she said through her teeth, "break my wand, pin me to the wall and... and... transfigure me into a cow or something!"

Zabini gazed at her quietly, his smirk spreading into a wide grin.

"Not public enough here for you? Is that it?" She thrust her arms out in front of her, wrists pressed together. "Go on, drag me off to the Great Hall. Tie me to the teachers' dais. Shave off all my hair," Hermione hissed.

"Well, now," Zabini drawled, "that sounds real interesting, Granger." He gazed down at her proffered hands, then sent her a wicked grin. "Not exactly what I had planned, though."

"Whatever," Hermione snapped, drawing back her hands. "Just do it!"

Zabini shook his head. "Where would the fun be in that?" he asked.

Hermione groaned and closed her eyes, rubbing her forehead in frustration. When she opened them again, Zabini was gone, having quietly sneaked off. The fact didn't exactly relieve her mind, but she gathered her books together quickly and hurried back to the Tower.

******

"All right, Gin?"

Ginny opened her eyes and gazed up into Harry's handsome face, a concerned frown wrinkling his brow. She swung her legs off the couch and sat up. "Yeah, Harry," she said. "I'm fine."

Harry glanced nervously over his shoulder and Ginny followed his gaze, spotting her brother, Ron, making frantic waving motions at him. "You sure?" he asked, turning back around. "Um..." he swallowed hard, "you've been awfully quiet, Gin, and... well... I just wanted to..."

"Yes?"

Harry sighed and dropped down on the sofa next to her. "God, Gin, you don't have another crush on me, do you?"

Ginny's mouth fell open. "What?" she asked, and then before he could say anything further, she burst out laughing. "Harry..." She gulped a breath, and then slouched back on the cushions, giggling like mad.

Harry smiled and chuckled a bit, but when she kept on laughing and whispering, "too funny," in between her gasping breaths, Harry grew a bit indignant. "It's not that funny," he said, scowling.

She laughed herself into a coughing fit and Harry had to pound her on the back. She stuttered, "M-Merlin, Harry... you're like my brother," and made some phony retching sounds.

Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not really, though. There'd be nothing wrong with us dating."

Eyes sparkling and shiny with tears of mirth, her cheeks red from exertion, she chuckled up at him. "Are you arguing with me about this, Harry? Do you want to go out with me?"

"Well, no," he conceded. "But you don't have to act like the idea is so absurd. We wouldn't have three-eyed babies or anything."

Ginny rubbed her palms over her cheeks, "Oh, now we're having babies, are we?"

"You know what I mean," he said, slightly miffed.

"What are we laughing at over here?" asked Ron as he strolled over to them, hands jammed in his pockets and a cheerful smile on his face. "Everything all squared away?"

Harry glared up at him. "She's laughing at me."

"Ah," Ron said, rocking back on his heels. "All's well and good then."

"Perfect, Ron," Ginny laughed. "We were just discussing our babies."

"Discussing your... what?" Ron asked, eyes bulging with shock, his face rapidly turning red and a suspicious vein starting to throb in his forehead.

"Babies." She buried her face into the arm of the couch, muffling her giggles, and muttered, "Three-eyed babies."

"Did she just say," Ron ground out, glaring down at Harry, "that you've decided on having three babies?"

Harry stood up and shook his head. "She's just poking fun, mate."

Ginny straightened on the sofa and sniffled. "And I said three-eyed, not three, Ron."

Ron looked ready to argue, but Harry cut him off. "Sure you're all right, Gin?" he asked.

"I'm fine, Harry," she grinned up at him. "Thanks for the laugh."

Ginny watched Harry walk across the common room towards the portrait hole, Ron, grumbling and clearly not happy, trailing after him, a wide smile still gracing her lips. They were both such handsome boys, but such opposites. Ron with his tall, lean body, and mop of red hair, towered over Harry, dark and stocky. Yet often, it was hard to remember that they weren't brothers, their loyalty and attachment to each other reminiscent of the twins. At times she'd even caught them finishing each other's sentences, and if she didn't love them both so much, she'd probably find it a bit creepy.

At the portrait hole, the boys helped Hermione through with her pile of books, and the sight of her bushy-haired friend caused Ginny's smile to slip from her face. Her appearance reminded her of the book. And the book reminded her of Draco Malfoy.

Both of them.

She couldn't seem to understand why the elder, the one who had accepted the Dark Mark, appeared to... well, like her she supposed, although she was unsure of his motives. The younger, on the other hand, seemed intent on scaring the crap out of her. There was a point, that afternoon, when she was sure he was going to wrap his hands around her neck and squeeze.

Hermione made her way over to her and Ginny forced a smile. "Any luck in the library?" she asked.

"What? Oh, yes," Hermione said, a bit harried as she dropped her books to the floor and sank onto the sofa next to Ginny. "The first few pages are definitely Centaur... definitely a map. Their maps are usually based on a system of stars, though, so I've checked out a few Astronomy books as well. However," she reached for the square vellum book, "that's the only Centaur in the whole thing. I was right about the determinatives, too." She flipped open to the page they had been looking at earlier. "Together these either mean 'lifetime' or 'the length of the sun.'"

Ginny cocked her head to the side and gazed at the tiny hieroglyphics. "Length of the sun?"

"As in, all day," Hermione explained. "How that pertains to the rest of the text, I have no idea."

"So you don't know what other languages were used?"

"Not yet," she smiled. "I have some thoughts, though."

Ginny relaxed against the cushions with a sigh. "You're a gem, Hermione. I don't know what I would do without your help."

"Figure it out yourself, I expect," she replied with a grin.

Ginny laughed. "In about two years, maybe."

"Don't sell yourself short, Gin," she admonished, scooping up her books and standing. "Now, I'm going to shut myself away in my dorm room and start with this translation. Maybe when I'm done," she added with a wry smile, "you'll let me in on what this is all about." Then, without waiting for an answer, she hurried over to the stairs.

Ginny shook her head and pulled her Advanced Transfiguration text out of her bag, deciding to study a bit for the quiz scheduled for early the next week. Soon, she was lost in the mechanics of human transfiguration and the evening hours passed swiftly by. When next she lifted her head, the common room was empty and dim and, glancing towards the dormitory stairs, she found the corridor unlit.

With unsteady hands, she pushed her book back into her knapsack and stood, hefting the bag onto her shoulder. Routing in the pocket of her robes, she took a small step towards the stairs, but stopped when she realized her wand wasn't in her robes. She quickly tore open her knapsack, shuffling through the contents, but couldn't find it there, either.

"Shit," she muttered, and then took a deep, shaky breath. "All right, Gin," she whispered to herself, "you can do this." Squaring her shoulders, she moved to the blackened stairwell, only to pause at the bottom, staring up into the inky darkness.

She could see the shadow of the first few steps, formed from the dim light of the common room. After that, though, was pure, undiluted black. The familiar panic curled low in her stomach, her breaths grew shallow and labored, but she lifted her foot cautiously onto the first step. There's nothing there. This is Hogwarts. There's nothing there to hurt me. Think happy thoughts: fuzzy bunnies, Blaise dancing in his smiley face boxers, kittens tumbling through grass, Harry singing Ave Maria at Christmas, the twins' pet monkey riding around on Mum's shoulder... Her mind was a jumbled mess of mantras that quickly faded into distant hisses as she moved onto the second step.

She paused there, taking a deep breath, willing the static that filled her head to dissipate, and trying to recall Ron's smiling face and Hermione's bell-like laugh. But the murmurs continued to get louder and louder in her ears, the hissing elongating to form ominous threats, the air thickening to clog her throat, constrict her heart. As she forced herself to step onto the third stair, and then the forth, mindless fear ascended on her in waves, drowning her, and terror enfolded her so quickly that she cried out.

Then arms came out of the darkness to grip her and she fought blindly, clawing and kicking at whatever had stalked her out of the night.