Murder at Malfoy Manor

Chapter Twelve

The Second Night

Ginny was in turmoil. She was alone for the moment as she changed her clothes for dinner and fixed her hair into a multi-layered twist that she knew suited her. Outside her door, Harry waited. Somehow the security partnerships had gotten mixed around, and Harry had taken Ginny up to her room to change, and Pansy gone in search of Draco. And Ginny was sorry for it.

She hated what was happening to her. It was bad enough to be trapped in a house with a murderer, and with Lord Voldemort, and with two dead bodies. Every turning of a corner was tense, every whisper and footfall a potential warning of death. Malfoy Manor was a maze of dangers, cold and scary with its secret passages and probable booby-traps for the unwary. But it was not these life-threatening things that disturbed her the most.

It was that heat in her bones whenever Draco Malfoy was near, that intense awareness of his position, that funny shiver when he walked past her or brushed against her. Ginny had thought herself immune to the charms of Hogwarts' resident Prince of Slytherin, especially since until this weekend he had shown nothing but disdain for her and her family. Now, however, after sleeping in his bed, the warmth of him pressed securely against her backside, Ginny's thoughts took themselves in an entirely new direction. She growled softly to herself. Of all the inconvenient things, to develop a crush on Draco Malfoy!

After sweeping on more makeup than her usual, Ginny left her room in her best clothes, a knee-length brocade skirt and a satiny top. Harry glanced at her with appreciation, and offered his arm for Ginny to take. When she slipped her hand through his elbow, she tried to ignore the feeling of gawky, bony awkwardness as they walked together.

The house-elves set out a full dinner in the dining room, but the social limits had been so pressed all day that the guests would not be eating as one party. Instead, an orchestrated dance of avoidance was performed, and Harry and Ginny entered the room with Ron and Dumbledore. On the way in, they ran into Professor Snape and Mrs. Malfoy, each of whom had furious expressions on their faces as if at the tail end of an argument. Harry shrugged at Ginny as if to say, 'who knows?'

Ginny's appetite was dull and she poked at her potatoes with a heavy silver fork, her mind unable to keep itself from the subject of one Draco Malfoy. He was a wanker, that was certain. Whenever Ginny would start to become genuinely fond of him beyond the physical attraction, he said some nasty or prejudiced thing. He made things difficult. Ginny sighed. Was he with Pansy? Were they having a reunion after being separated the previous night? Next to her, Harry was equally quiet, and Dumbledore's humming of 'The Merry Widow Waltz' was getting on her nerves.

'Where's Pansy?' Ginny asked Harry, in what she hoped was a nonchalant tone of voice.

'Dunno,' Harry said.

'Huh,' Ginny said.

'Has Hermione been acting funny to you?' Harry asked.

Ginny thought for a moment. To be honest, she had been too preoccupied with her own shifting romantic feelings to notice Hermione's behaviour. But perhaps her friend had been a bit high-strung. 'She's been tense, I s'pose. Why?'

Ron gave a dark look from across the table. 'She's been spending all this time with You-Know-Who! What else?'

'Oh, come on,' Ginny said. 'You don't honestly think she's in danger, do you? Headmaster Dumbledore, you would never let her go off with You-Know-Who if you thought he'd hurt her, would you?'

Dumbledore tilted his head and twinkled his eyes. Ginny had not realised that the 'twinkling eyes' could be turned on at will, but there they were.

'I have faith in Miss Granger's ability to stay safe. If she felt threatened, don't you think she'd have come to us?' Dumbledore said.

'It's not that I'm worried about,' Harry said. 'She's already started making up stuff. She said she needed to get something from her room, hours ago, and never returned! What if he's taken her? What if Voldemort tries to turn her to his side?'

Dumbledore shrugged.

Ron, with his familiar surly overprotective look, stood up from the table. 'I'm gonna go find her.'

'Good idea,' Harry said. 'I'll go with you.'

Dumbledore smiled from Ron to Harry, and nodded his head once. 'I'll escort Miss Weasley to the safety of her room,' he said. 'If you both really feel that Miss Granger needs your assistance, then by all means help her. But I warn you, do not aggravate Voldemort. Remember that there have already been two murders without the use of wand magic.'

'Yeah, yeah,' said Ron. 'Please take care of my sister, Headmaster,' he added respectfully.

Ginny sat back in her seat, watching Harry and Ron run off to save the day, as usual. They always left her behind to be 'protected'. Sometimes it infuriated her, and right now the old resentment reared its ugly head. She forced a yawn. 'Headmaster,' she said, 'I'm tired. Do you mind if I walk back to my room now?'

'Not at all,' Dumbledore said. 'I'll walk you safely there.'

She nodded assent, and they walked together all the way up to Ginny's door. 'Thank you,' she said, shaking Dumbledore's hand. 'Good night.'

'You'll be fine, then?' Dumbledore peered at her.

'Oh, yes,' Ginny replied. 'I'll put a chair behind my door so that no one can get in. No worries.'

'Very well,' said Dumbledore. 'Good night.'

When Ginny shut the door, she took a quick glance around her room to be sure she was alone, counted to sixty to make sure Dumbledore would be out of sight, then slipped back out the door. The hall was deserted and dark, and she walked back in the direction of the stairs, quiet as a cat. She did not know what she was looking for, exactly, but in her mind was the vague notion of following Ron and Harry, or perhaps coming upon Draco, wherever he was.

She must have taken a wrong turn upstairs, however, and when she came around the corner expecting to find the main staircase, she found a long dark hallway instead. Ginny gulped. Did Malfoy Manor change itself, like Hogwarts? It was not a pleasant thought. She walked along the unexpected corridor with caution. A pedestal in a niche off to the side caught her eye, and she stopped to inspect it. Inside a glass case was a crystal ball, on a gold stand inscribed with the words 'Livia Malfoy, 1329-1450'. Another Malfoy family heirloom. She leaned closer, and thought she saw faces inside the crystal: a person with dark hair and a hooked nose that looked a lot like Professor Snape, and then it morphed into what could have been a house-elf, and then - Ginny's head snapped up and she ducked further into the niche, pressing herself close to the wall. She heard footsteps, she was sure of it.

Breathing through her mouth in silent fear, Ginny wished she could meld into the wall, and hoped that the small niche would be enough to disguise her from someone passing by. The footsteps drew closer. Ginny winced, wishing for the use of her wand, for anything to defend herself...perhaps she could break the glass case and throw the crystal ball at the murderer. That might work.

Then, a figure cloaked in black walked straight past her, not pausing to glance into her hiding place. It was Professor Snape, walking alone. Ginny watched him pass by, gave it thirty seconds, then sighed in relief. She wondered what he was up to, stalking the corridors at night. He's probably so used to it from Hogwarts, he can't help himself, Ginny thought. Snape was a notorious insomniac and anyone out of bed past curfew was likely to run into him unless they had an invisibility cloak like Harry.

At that thought, Ginny wondered if Harry had packed the infamous item, and if it would even work in a magical storm. Now there was something: what if the murderer got hold of an invisibility cloak? Ginny shivered. Perhaps now was the time to go back to her room.

Peeking out of her niche to see the coast clear, Ginny hurried back along the way she'd come, cursing her own foolishness. The best thing to do was wait this thing out. If Hermione was going to follow Lord Voldemort, so be it. If Draco was going to be a prat, so be it. As for Ron and Harry...they were just acting as they always had. It was about time for Ginny Weasley to get over it. In her light gait, she scampered back along the hallway, remembering to turn, and then she found the grand staircase she had been seeking before.

Ginny paused at the top of the stairs, overlooking the great entrance hall below. It was silent as a tomb in its white marble glory, the crystal chandelier hanging like a skeleton from the ceiling. Lightning bolts from outside flashed upon the polished floor, reflecting off it like a mirror. Once again, Ginny was reminded how grand Malfoy Manor was in comparison to her own humble home.

Then she bit back a shriek of surprise. Lord Voldemort himself entered her line of sight from above, followed by a slight figure Ginny recognised as Hermione. The pair swept through the hall and turned to ascend the stairs, and Ginny slunk back into the shadows, watching them climb. Hermione trailed Voldemort as though by habit and glanced up at him with the kind of eyes she normally reserved for books or eloquent teachers.

Oh dear, thought Ginny. Hermione's gone bad.

When Voldemort and Hermione reached the top, Ginny held her breath again so as not be detected, but Voldemort's white, snake-like visage turned in her direction. His scarlet gaze met hers directly, and Voldemort's eyes continued to burn into her as he walked past, piercing the shadows and holding Ginny steady against the wall. She was petrified in fear. Hermione did not notice where Voldemort looked and kept her head bowed.

Merlin's beard, Merlin's beard, oh his long white beard, Ginny's mind rambled. She felt sick to her stomach. Stay away from me, Tom stay away stay away Tom... After an eternity, Voldemort passed and his glance lifted from her. The pair turned in the direction where Snape had gone, and Ginny wondered at this for a moment before running back toward her room, all attempt at stealth forgotten. This was a stupid idea, Ginny thought. Next, I'll probably run into Ron, and he'll tell Mum I defied orders, and I'll be grounded until I'm thirty. She ran through the shadowy halls, blind and hurried, hoping and wishing and praying that she might just get back to her room in safety. It was not Ginny's lucky night.

She felt strong arms fasten about her waist, pulling her violently into an embrace, forcing her against the wall. A hand clamped over her mouth, cutting off her cry for help. Ginny choked back a sob of terror. Was she next? Was she to be murdered? No! her mind screamed. She brought her knee up into the groin of her attacker, and the person doubled over with a grunt of pain. Definitely a man, then.

Ginny twisted away and tried to make a run for it, but the other was too fast for her. She was pinned again, her arms above her head. 'Who's there?' she finally blurted. 'Who are you?'

****************

For the first time since Lucius's murder, tears streamed freely down Narcissa's cheeks. She was back in her room, buffing her nails with ferocity and trying to ignore the anguish that knocked at her heart. Snape had left in a huff, muttering about women and their moods, but Narcissa knew it was something more than that.

The poisoning incident had frightened her deeply and brought home the real danger she was in. A small part of it was her fault, she knew; she should never have consumed a single goblet of her favourite juice laid out for her like that, under these circumstances. But Narcissa also blamed Severus. He failed to protect her, watch out for her, and the more she thought about it the more she doubted the wisdom of letting Severus into her life and home.

All day she mulled it over and on the way out of dinner, she said as much to Severus. 'Someone tried to kill me,' she had said. 'I don't know why, but all I want is for this to go away!'

'It can't go away,' Severus replied. 'Your husband, being the man he was, brought danger into this house.'

'And what about you, Severus? What about your position? Is it any less dangerous? You're a spy for Merlin only knows who, and you have the full mistrust of the Dark Lord and Dumbledore alike!'

Snape glowered at her. 'The Dark Lord trusts me. Dumbledore trusts me.'

'And one of them shouldn't! Which side will you betray, Severus? Which side will come after you? I will not put my family in that position again.'

'Fine,' Snape said. 'Don't. I'll walk you back up to your room, and leave you there forever.'

That was when the tears had started as a lump in her throat, moving up behind her eyes, and now flowed as a river of salt down her smooth skin. It was for the best, she conceded. The homicide of Lucius had addled her good sense, thrown her into the arms of her son's Potions professor. No more, she thought. No more. It had been a temporary insanity, and now Narcissa needed to be strong and defend the only things she had left: her home, her son, her position.

With a glance at her clock, she saw that the time approached nine in the evening. Perhaps she should sleep, and with luck the magical storm would be over by the morning. She went as far as to put on her pink negligee, and turned down the covers, but when faced with her empty bed, Narcissa started to cry again.

'Oh, bugger this,' she said aloud. Then she giggled tearfully at her own indignity. She grabbed her silk robe and tossed it on, tying it closed with a flourish. The hall outside her room was dark but that did not bother Narcissa. She was only going a few steps to Lucius's bedroom. There, she knew, was the entrance to the hidden passageway that would lead her to the dungeons. A plot formed in her mind; it was time for Narcissa Malfoy to take matters into her own hands. No one was ever there for her, so she would be there for herself.

The sleeping chamber of her late husband was shadowed and cold (just like it was when he was alive, Narcissa thought) and Narcissa stole across it, her slippers clacking on the polished wood floor. She pulled aside a tapestry on the wall and pressed a stone with her hand; the wall swung open obediently. Only for a moment did she doubt the wisdom of sneaking around in the night. The urgency of her plan was greater, and she pushed fear aside.

Down the secret passage she went and Narcissa tried to remember how long it was. There were listening holes along the way, she knew; one at the green guest bedroom, one behind the library, and one that looked into the main hallway. This was the longest, most twisted secret passage in the Manor, and as Narcissa scurried along she counted her paces in her mind, trying to gauge how far she had come. 'Thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three,' her lips moved... 'Forty-seven, forty-eight...' At just about the right spot, she came upon the first peephole into the green room. Who was in this room? Narcissa could not remember. Curious, she put her eye up to the hole.

No one was visible inside, but Narcissa saw the edge of a brown taffeta dress flung upon a chair. Ginny Weasley, then. Narcissa had been pleasantly surprised by Ginny; the girl had sparkle, and took to elegant living quite well, considering her family's circumstances. But where was Ginny, if not in her room? With a shrug, Narcissa kept moving along the passage. The library too was empty, and Narcissa did not even bother to look through the hole to the main hallway.

'Oh!' she gasped. There was a stair-step in the darkness. She had almost forgotten. 'No good to trip and fall,' she whispered. 'No one would ever find me.' With an exhale of tension, Narcissa felt her way along the narrow, steep staircase that led her down to the dungeons. After several more twists and turns, Narcissa was in familiar territory, and opened the door to the room she had sought that morning: the potions stores.

She knew exactly what she was looking for. She pulled open a cabinet and yanked bottle after bottle off the shelves, reaching into the back, and her fingers clasped around a small, dusty vial. She brought it out, blowing away the layer of filth, and she smiled. Veritaserum. Narcissa would find out who was telling the truth, and who was lying. Was her cactus juice poisoned? Were the house-elves following someone else's orders? Where did loyalties lie on this crazy weekend?

Pocketing the vial, Narcissa fled the dungeon storeroom. She would start with Severus Snape.

*****************

Ginny stopped struggling for a moment, not wanting to waste her energy. She might have to run or fight. She would need to act fast. 'Who are you?' she repeated.

The man's breath was hot on her ear. 'Oh,' he said. 'It's you.'

'Draco?'

Draco Malfoy sighed and let go of her pinned hands. 'Sorry.'

'You scared me half to death!' Ginny cried. 'What's wrong with you?'

'I thought you might be the murderer,' he said.

'Lame excuse. I would think you would run and hide from the murderer, not attack directly.'

Draco brought out a portable witch-light torch, and the golden glow hung between their faces, casting the space around them into shadow. 'Normally, I would run,' he admitted. 'But there's more to it than my own safety, Weasley. There's a murderer who's knocking off my family, one by one. Sometimes even a Slytherin knows the time to make a stand.'

'Oh, that's rich,' Ginny scoffed. 'You make a stand by accosting a much weaker, very innocent girl.'

'Innocent?' Draco smirked. 'What were you doing wandering the corridors alone, anyway? And where's Potter? He's supposed to be looking after you.'

'He and Ron went off to find Hermione,' Ginny said, feeling truculent. 'I couldn't sleep; I'm not tired. And I'm not helpless.'

'I know you're not,' Draco said. 'Your knee to a very sensitive area of mine just proved that!'

'Oh, yeah. Sorry. But you brought it on yourself, you know.'

Draco let out a huff of air. 'I did expect you to have better sense than to go rambling through the house alone.'

'I saw Hermione and V-vol-You-Know-Who,' she said.

'Really?'

'He saw me, but didn't do anything,' Ginny let her weight sag against the wall, the encounter with Voldemort catching up with her. 'And Hermione was sure following You-Know-Who closely. I rather think she's contemplating a switch.'

'Granger? Become a Death Eater? You can't be serious.' Draco grabbed her hand and pulled her along. 'Here, Ginny, let's get out of the corridor. I prefer to have four solid walls surrounding me at the moment.'

Ginny did not argue and tried to ignore the warm pressure of his hand clasping hers. Even the small contact made her feel flushed, like she could collapse into his arms and let him - No, no, no, she stopped her mind from going any further. It would do no good. Draco Malfoy would never associate with a Weasley. After this weekend, he would likely pretend he did not know her.

Then, Draco's arms were around her waist and he yanked her into a recessed doorframe, their bodies pressed together. For a wild moment, Ginny thought he had succumbed to passion and was about to kiss her, but the hope was dashed as he whispered in her ear.

'Shhh,' he said. 'There's someone coming.'

She nodded. They were unmoving in their peculiar embrace, and sure enough Ginny heard footsteps. What is this, she thought, 'wander the hallways' hour? I've met more people in this bloody upstairs corridor than I do walking down Diagon Alley at mid-day. Over Draco's shoulder she saw Headmaster Dumbledore walk by at a rapid pace, spry for such an old man. He did not see them.

After a moment to let Dumbledore out of earshot, Ginny giggled. 'You keep doing this,' she said.

'Doing what?' Draco grumbled, moving away from her slightly.

'Grabbing me and pushing me against walls,' Ginny said. 'If I didn't know better, I'd say it was deliberate.'

In the darkness, Ginny could see a flash of Draco's grey eyes as he looked down at her. 'It's not deliberate,' he whispered. He leaned closer.

'Oh,' she said. She tilted her head up at him.

'Ginny,' he said, and his hands tightened about her waist.

When his lips came down to meet hers, Ginny's eyes flew open in happy wonder, then she relaxed against him. Draco's lips were velvet warm, and with a searing jolt to her core she felt his tongue tease against her own, entering her mouth, exploring. Ginny wrapped her hands around his head, drawing him deeper in. All thought of murder and danger fled from Ginny's mind. The only thing that mattered was Draco's hot mouth, and his hands moving around her waist, reaching around to grab her from behind and pull her tighter against him.

She had never been kissed like this before, not by Michael or Dean or Harry. All of those experiences seemed amateur next to Draco's manipulations. She would have imagined Draco to be cold, lifeless, clammy, but he wasn't; no, he was hot like a flame, scalding her with his touch. When they broke apart to catch their breath, even the tiny interruption was too long for the ache that had developed.

'Let's go back to my room,' Draco's ragged voice whispered in her ear.

She nodded, and let him pull her away.