Omnividence

Chapter Six - On the Shores of Night

As Ginny stepped into the hall to escape the noise for a few moment - honestly, some people seemed to forget that Halloween happens every year - she had to quickly hop over a puddle of vomit congealing on the floor.

"Eeuw!" Ginny made a face. I can't believe someone ate themselves that sick, she thought scornfully. She stepped back from it and trod on something soft. She looked down. A hand! And she was standing on its fingers!

Further investigation proved that the hand was still attached to the figure sprawled across the stones, a figure that was beginning to moan in response to having its digits crushed. With sudden, cold shock, Ginny realized that it was Draco Malfoy who was lying unconscious at her feet. Stifling the uncharitable reaction that told her to continue standing on his hand, she moved to kneel beside him.

"Malfoy?" she said hesitantly. No answer. Not a twitch. Ginny shook him gently by the shoulder, "Malfoy? Are you alright?" Still nothing. She sat back on her heels with a sigh and gazed at the inert form. He was still breathing which, she supposed, was a good thing. She leaned forward and shook him more firmly. "Malfoy!.... Draco!"

With piteous cry, Malfoy lifted his head. His eyes focused on some point in the distance, but gradually they settled on Ginny. He clutched at her robes. "W-Weasley?" he said hoarsely. "Virginia Weasley?" There was a desperation to his question that shocked her.

"Yes," she said slowly. What on earth has happened to him? she thought. Having Draco Malfoy lying at her feet, clutching at her hems, was something she thought she'd never see. Although, truthfully, she had fantasized about it once or twice. The reality was a bit of a disappointment. Amazed at her own calm, she gently detached his fingers from her clothes. "Draco," she said again, this time in the neutral tones of someone speaking to a hysterical child. "What happened?"

His gaze flickered wildly around the corridor. "Hogwarts? I'm at Hogwarts?" He picked himself up from the floor and looked down. "I'm alive?"

"Malfoy," Ginny said with impatience. "Are you alright? What happened to you?"

Draco was still looking at everything in amazement. He caught sight of his fingers still in Ginny's grasp. He closed his hand tightly, to reassure himself that she was not just another phantom. This time he looked straight into her face, his eyes wearied and red. He gave every appearance of having been dragged through all nine circles of Hell.

"It's not too late," he said simply.

And he passed out once more.

***

Ginny hovered anxiously in the Infirmary, waiting for Madam Pomfrey to come back. Feeling that, as a prefect, she had a definite responsibility for the situation, she had used a levitation charm on the unconscious Slytherin and floated him to the Hospital Wing. When Madam Pomfrey asked her what happened, she could only shrug and show how bewildered she was.

As she waited, Professor Dumbledore came through the door. "Hello, Miss Weasley," he said genially. "I understand Mr. Malfoy has had an accident?" He looked inquiringly at her.

"I'm sorry, Professor," she shook her head. "I have no idea what's going on." Ginny related how she had found Malfoy lying in the corridor. His cryptic statements she kept to herself, for the time being. They probably aren't important, she told herself, not believing it for a second.

Madam Pomfrey sailed back into view, having tucked Malfoy into one of the cots. "He's unharmed," she said. "He's had a nasty bump on his head and been sick... but why he remains unconscious, I cannot say. Apparently, he's suffered some sort of shock." She gestured off towards the beds. "All I can say is, he'll probably come around." She looked Dumbledore firmly in the eye. "I must insist he stay the night - and tomorrow - for observation."

"Quite wise, Madam Pomfrey," Dumbledore agreed. "Be sure to let me know when he wakes, if you please." Bowing slightly to the nurse and nodding to Ginny, he left the ward.

"You can run along now, too, my dear," Madam Pomfrey said with a sigh. "I'm sure Mr. Malfoy will be grateful for your help. He's lucky in his friends."

Not bloody likely, Ginny thought with bitter amusement.

***

The common room was alive with noise in the Gryffindor tower. The Halloween spirit, so to speak, was in the air. Orange jack-o'lanterns, which clashed horribly with the gold lion of the Gryffindor crest above the mantlepiece, were winking and leering at anyone who glanced their way.

Part of the cacophony was due to the enormous load of booby-trapped sweets Fred and George had sent from their shop: peanut brittle that turned people into squirrels, lollipops that stuck to the tongue and took ten minutes to get off again, sour-apple toad sticks that made everyone's skin green and warty... The list went on and on. Between transformations and tugging inarticulately at lollies, the students were exclaiming over the new sweets and vowing to buy bagfulls on the next Hogsmeade visit. Hogwarts was quite likely to be a culinary adventure for some time.

Some of the uproar was because Ginny and Ron were standing nose to nose yelling at each other.

"You carried Malfoy off to the Hospital Wing?" Ron said incredulously. "What for?"

"Because he was lying unconscious on the floor!" Ginny retorted. "What was I supposed to do? Leave him there?"

"Yes!" Ron cried.

The other Gryffindors (those who weren't twitching their whiskers and hopping on the furniture from eating the peanut brittle) were huddled around the fire, chattering madly about the 'attack'. Harry and Hermione were watching the two siblings argue. Ron found the notion that his sister was responsible for taking care of Malfoy extremely objectionable.

"He needed medical attention!" Ginny shouted back.

"You could have told someone anonymously!" Ron waved his hands in emphasis, and accidentally hit Parvati who chittered angrily and ran off with her tail following after. Ron ignored her and continued berating his sister. "Instead, now the whole school knows that despite everything the Malfoys have done to the Weasleys, we're thick enough to forgive and forget!"

"How can you say that!" Ginny wailed. "I'm a prefect! I have a responsibility!"

"Yeah, that's another thing," said Harry, deciding to break up the fight. "Your brother and I thought we had set a good example, but you're following in Percy's shoes." He shook his head very sadly at Ginny, then winked. He turned to her brother. "Get over it, Ron."

Ron clutched at his head in frustration. "Just tell me, Gin. Tell me it was really you that bashed him over the head. Tell me you took him to the Hospital wing to throw people off the trail."

"RON!" Ginny shrieked.

The fight only ended when Harry force-fed Ron some peanut-brittle.

***

Aliset was done struggling with Transfiguration homework for the night. She closed her book and rolled up the scroll of parchment with a sigh. Pulling on her nightgown, she climbed into bed. She could still hear the remnants of the Halloween festivities from downstairs in the Ravenclaw common room, even though it was long past two in the morning.

Munin stuck his beak into Aliset's hair as he settled onto her shoulder. "How was your day?" he asked, slightly muffled.

"Full," Aliset said shortly. She was still fuming over the arrogance of that stuck-up, vindictive, self-satisfied.... Slytherin! To think that he just assumed she was going with him! And she knew why, too. He thinks I'm going to fall all over him, she snarled mentally, I would NEVER be able to touch him - that little taste was enough. What an evil family! Her mind replayed the incident in the corridor. I hope he has a vicious headache in the morning. Of course, the evening hadn't been all bad...

Hugin hopped onto her bed. "Who's Ron?" He tried to leer suggestively, but raven faces are singularly unexpressive. He settled for an insinuating clack of his beak.

Much to her surprise, she blushed. "Just a boy!" she said. "He asked me to the Yule Ball. That's all." The memory of him standing at the Ravenclaw table, stammering and stuttering, dispelled the lingering anger over Malfoy. Ron! So nice, awfully cute - and most importantly, not someone who would take her for granted or think of her as some kind of decoration.

Of all the people she had met so far, he was the only one who didn't make her feel like running away.

***

Some time in the night, Draco awoke. His head was splitting. What had happened? As the memories came back, he felt very wide-awake indeed.

Sitting there in the darkness, he engaged in sober thought. Was what he had seen true? Was the Dark Lord doomed? More importantly, if he followed in his family's footsteps, was he, Draco, doomed? Certainly he was prepared to give his life for Voldemort, at least theoretically, but what was the point of dying for the dead?

What, ultimately, was in his best interest?

***

The next morning at breakfast, the table around Aliset was buzzing with speculation. Padma leaned over towards her. "Have you heard? Draco Malfoy was attacked last night! He has to spend all day in the Hospital Wing!"

Aliset was startled. She tried not to look guilty. She looked over at the Slytherin table - all the students there were morose, and the silver-eyed Draco was nowhere to be seen. Why hadn't she realized this? Why hadn't she known? Aliset got the feeling that her inner-eye was not seeing what it should. Resolving to speak to Hugin and Munin about it, she turned back to her housemates.

Sally-Anne was speaking at the optimum carrying-frequency for rumour and hearsay. "There's another monster in the school! Draco was lucky to have only been hit in the head. He was unconscious for hours!" She bit her lip, worried. "I hope it doesn't leave a scar."

Terry and Kevin paused in their own conversation to turn identically incredulous gapes at their fellow Ravenclaw. Finally, Terry cleared his throat. "You can't feel sorry for that little prick? Have you lost your mind?"

"I'm just glad something's happened to a Slytherin for a change. Those sneaky bastards usually manage to get off scot-free," Kevin said through a mouthful of porridge.

"Ooh..." Sally-Anne breathed with sudden inspiration. "Aliset, I had a thought!" She paused to glare at Terry and Kevin who were snorting into their breakfast. "Maybe you can find out what happened!" She lowered her voice suggestively: "You have been seen rather often with Malfoy."

Aliset paused in mid-swallow. Surely this flaky girl hadn't witnessed...

"Malfoy would be really impressed if you solved it," Sally-Anne went on, relieving Aliset no end. "Maybe he'd buy you an expensive present."

"Um... sorry," Aliset shrugged. She'd love to tell this idiot girl exactly what she thought of Malfoy and his idea of presents. Giving her money for a dressrobe! She decided to settle for being politely unhelpful. "I have no idea. My clairvoyance has been a little unpredictable lately... I really have no clue."

"Neither does Sally," Lisa Turpin added contemptuously. "Honestly, Sally, I can't believe you think so much of Malfoy. He thinks as little of Ravenclaw as he does the other Houses." She shook her head. "And I can't believe you're as silly and shallow as you sounded just now. Presents. The only thing Malfoy - or the rest of the Slytherins, for that matter - give freely is cruel sarcasm. And that I can live without."

Aliset, and many others at the table, silently applauded this little speech. Sally-Anne sniffed, offended, and finished her breakfast in silence.

***

Glowering at the blanket on his lap, (which had white rabbits on it, he noticed with some dismay) Draco wondered how long it would be before Dumbledore gave up and went away. "Honestly, Professor, I don't have any idea what happened. The only thing I remember is throwing up in the hall." He looked up. "And believe me, I'd rather I didn't. Next thing I knew, I was here." He had no intention of confiding in Dumbledore.

"Hm," Dumbledore sounded neither angry nor credulous. "I would ask your permission to perform the Memory Restoration Charm, but Madam Pomfrey tells me that would be inadvisable given the head injury you sustained." Dumbledore stood and regarded him thoughtfully for a few moments. He was well acquainted with the Malfoy family, unpleasantly so. However, this particular Malfoy seemed to be suffering an uncharacteristic loss of confidence this morning. "I suggest you take this opportunity to rest, Mr. Malfoy. Naturally, you are excused from your classes, though you will be expected to make up the work. Do let me know if any of last night's events come back to you."

Draco sat, wooden, on his cot and watched the Headmaster leave. He wasn't prepared to tell anyone what happened. He didn't think he'd ever tell. But he did have some serious questions to ask, and only one person could answer them.

That would wait. He wasn't going anywhere for the moment. Draco had done some serious thinking last night. Obviously, if Voldemort was destined to fall, there was no mileage in being a Death Eater. Equally obvious was that his father was never going to listen, let alone believe him. Every man for himself, he thought. All I have to do is not kill Harry Potter, right? How difficult can that be, even if he is a Muggle-fancying twit with a swollen head. For a long moment, Draco pondered with regret not being able to get away with disposing of his chief rival. Ah, well. If I'm not a Death Eater, then I can't be punished with the rest. Hell, I know enough now to be a major help to all these Muggle-lovers. He sneered at the thought. Not that I need to. I just need to stay away from Voldemort. It occurred to him that his father might not make this easy. But the echo of a thousand voices cursing him to death still rang in his head. Give me disobedience over death any day.

Madam Pomfrey disrupted his gloomy reverie. "It's nice to see that you're feeling better, Mr. Malfoy. Your friends have been hanging about the door all day wanting to see you. I suppose I could let them in for a few minutes, if you like," she paused a moment, "Odd, but I didn't see your pretty red-headed friend, the one who brought you up here last night. Quite anxious she seemed - I would have thought she'd be fidgeting in the hallway with the rest." It was a measure of how infrequently Madam Pomfrey left the Hospital Wing that she didn't realize the depth of the enmity between the Malfoys and the Weasleys. She bustled off, never catching the stunned and dismayed look on Draco's face. Or, perhaps, she thought it was due to the bump on his head.

Draco sat immobile. He wanted to scoff at the idea of being rescued by a... a... Weasley. Unfortunately, with the name came some very embarrassing recollections from the night before. Clutching at her...ugh! he thought with utter mortification.

Maybe it was a sign of the embryonic change within; at any rate, an annoying, niggling little piece of his mind took the memory of a freckled, pretty face peering at him in concern - and held it up carefully to the light.

***

The students were wearily grateful when Transfiguration class was over. They had been transfiguring small alligators into shoes. The reptiles, however, had had other plans. Several Ravenclaws were nursing nipped hands. Although once they had managed to hold the animals still for the minute it took to perform the charm, the alligators had mostly vanished. Only pairs of loafers remained.

"I'm glad to see that most of you seem to have little problem with today's lesson," said Professor McGonagall. "Some of you, however, will need to pay extra attention to tonight's assigned reading," she glanced pointedly at Aliset over her spectacles. "Class dismissed."

Aliset sighed inwardly. She had successfully managed shoes, but the shoes still had teeth and snapped at anyone who got too close. Time to hit the library. As she started to descend the stairs, lost in thought, a hand snagged her robes and pulled her back. Startled, and more than a little irritated and wondering how anyone could have snuck up on her, she spun around to face her assailant.

It was Ron. Blushing slightly, he nodded his head toward the staircase. "The steps were switching," he said apologetically. "I thought you might not want to fall three stories."

"Oh," Aliset ducked her head, flushing in embarrassment. "Thank you," she said. She smiled and he smiled and they both stood there in silence for a few heartbeats.

"Er," said Ron eventually. "Um... Would you like to take a walk by the lake, later," he asked. "If you're not busy. You probably have lots to do. It's OK. Never mind. Forget about it," he stammered, turning to go.

This time, it was she who snagged the sleeves of his robes. "I'd love to," she said, shyly.

Ron stood still, beaming. "Oh! Er, great!"

They looked at each other a minute, neither saying anything. The corridor was full of students jostling them on their way to class, but Ron and Aliset hardly noticed. The two of them might have hung about indefinitely, but Harry came up by Ron's side.

"Hey, Ron... Oh. Hi, Aliset," Harry seemed to have something wrong with his face since he kept rubbing his chin. "Are you coming, Ron? We have Transfiguration now."

"Oh. Yeah." With one last look and a goofy grin, Ron followed Harry to class.

Sporting a goofy grin of her own, Aliset set off towards the library. Fortunately, the stairs were back, because she was still quite distracted. Unfortunately, she failed to notice that the stairs now led toward the sixth floor and she spent a fair amount of time wandering about before she realized her error.

***

After dinner, Ginny was on her way back to the Gryffindor tower when a pale apparition stepped in front of her. Unlike the Hogwarts ghosts (who were still recovering from Nearly-Headless Nick's latest Deathday party), the apparition before her was still alive.

"I understand I ought to thank you," Draco said coolly. He didn't sound in the least bit grateful.

"For taking you to the Infirmary?" Ginny replied warily. "I'm a prefect, it was my duty. Besides, I'm not heartless enough to leave anyone lying on these flagstones. A person could freeze to death." The shocking cold of the Hogwarts floors was a subject of much student (and, if they but knew it, teacher) complaint. Ginny had gotten out of bed one morning and stepped directly on the floor instead of the bedside rug. Her legs had gone numb to the knee.

Draco smiled very slightly, using only one corner of his mouth, though Ginny noticed that it was not his normal derisive sneer. "Whatever your reason, I ought to thank you," he said.

"That's the second time you've said 'ought'," Ginny pointed out. "Does this mean you're not going to thank me?"

Draco smiled again, but this time it was a real smile. He nodded his head to her in a strangely cordial way and, without another word, strolled off casually down the hall.

Ginny stared after him for several seconds in utter disbelief. Finally, she simply shook her head. What's one more mystery in the place? she thought rhetorically, and then continued on to her dormitory.

***

It was still fairly early in the evening; the sun still hovered just above the horizon, but a few stars were already shining in the west. There was maybe another half an hour of light before it became too dark for students to be outside.

Ron and Aliset had walked halfway around the lake before he spoke. "Er, thank you for coming for a walk with me. And thank you for agreeing to come to the Yule Ball with me," he said, somewhat diffidently.

If it had been Draco she was walking with, Aliset would have given a facetious reply. As it was, she smiled at him and, her voice quiet and sincere, simply said: "Thank you for asking me."

He smiled in return and they strolled a few more moments in silence. They reached a large tree, the very one Harry had been meditating under earlier, and Ron paused. "Would you like to sit down?" Though friendly, Ron had been ceaselessly formal with her all evening.

"Yes, thanks." They sat down and stared across the lake into the deepening shadows. Searching her mind for something to talk about, Aliset finally asked Ron to tell her about his family.

"My family?" he said, slightly startled. "Sure... Well, there's my mum and dad, my five older brothers and my little sister. With so many of us, even though my dad works at the Ministry, money's always been... a little tight." He glanced briefly at her. "I hope you didn't think I'm a moneybags like Malfoy?" His tone was light, but he held himself very still while he asked.

"Actually, I've been hoping that you're nothing like Malfoy," Aliset said dryly.

Ron laughed. "Glad to hear it. And I don't blame you." The amusement died as he continued more somberly. "The Weasleys and Malfoys have hated each other pretty much since the dawn of time. I don't even know how it started, I don't know if anyone does. But I'll bet it was the Malfoys' fault."

She laughed this time. "What does your dad do?" she asked.

"He works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office," Ron answered. "Bit of a laugh, really - he's always bringing things home and enchanting them. He'd have to arrest himself if he ever raided our house. He collects batteries and plugs... he's a little daft."

"I'm sure he isn't," Aliset retorted. "What about your mum?" Although both she and Ron were wearing their cloaks, it was still quite cold. She shivered and moved a little closer to the redheaded Gryffindor.

A smile flirted with the corners of Ron's mouth, but he answered her question. "My mum's always stayed at home - with seven of us to look after, she didn't have much of a choice," he added. "But, she gardens - you should see our vegetable garden! And she's a great cook." He nudged her gently. "You'll have to come for dinner sometime this summer." Both his ears and hers were pink, but it might have been from the chilly breeze blowing over the lake.

He skipped a stone across the water, where the great squid caught it and skipped it back. "As for my brothers... Bill works for Gringotts as a treasure hunter, Charlie works with dragons in Romania, Percy - he works at the Ministry like my dad. Takes it far too seriously. Fred and George, twins, run a joke shop in Hogsmeade. Me and Ginny you've met." He nudged Aliset very gently. "Enough about Weasleys... what are the Yasnovi-, Yasnovida-," he gave up. "What's your family like?"

"Yasnovidashaya," she said, then looked sad. "I'm from Russia originally, from a very small village about fifty kilometers from St. Petersburg, called Tyomniy Les." Seeing his baffled expression, she added, "it means 'Dark Forest'" She sighed before going on. "It was a lovely little village, very like Hogsmeade, and mostly untroubled by whatever the rest of Russia was doing. I was very happy there."

"Why didn't you stay?" Ron asked.

"Well, when I was eleven I went to Durmstrang," she said, all but spitting the name. "I hated it. And I hated Karkaroff." She seethed silently for a few minutes. When she turned back to Ron, he saw a tear roll down her cheek. "Then my parents died in an accident. They were boating on Lake Ladoga and something happened, I don't know exactly." She wiped her eyes and went on. "I always thought I should have seen it before it happened, but I didn't. I only knew when it did." She held a few strands of her silver hair out and looked at them. "Until that day, my hair was black."

"I - I'm sorry," said Ron, a little awkwardly. "My friend Harry's an orphan, too... but you'll know about that." He looked a little thoughtful. "Y'know, it's odd. Harry's an orphan, but it's just one of the things I know about him, like he has messy hair and never makes his bed. I never really thought about how it must feel." Ron shrugged apologetically. "I'd hate to lose my parents. They make me nuts, sometimes, but I love them a lot. It must be very hard, especially when you can remember them."

They sat together quietly in the growing twilight. Eventually, Aliset spoke again. "My father liked to carve things. He made me a wolf once. I used to see them on the edge of the forest sometimes. I thought they were so beautiful, but very frightening. So, my father carved one for me. He said this was a wolf that I could pet and it would never bite me." She smiled at the memory. "I named it Sieri - 'Grey' - and I slept with it every night."

"Do you still have it?" Ron asked softly.

"No," she said shortly. "When I ran away from Karkaroff, I took nothing with me. I was in such a hurry and so terrified, I didn't even take my coat. Hugin brought my wand and Munin carried my gloves, otherwise I would have nothing of my own now."

"I'm sorry," Ron sounded wretched. "Everything I've asked turns out to be sad... You must think I'm a jerk."

"No! No, I don't." Aliset said earnestly, and put her hand on his sleeve. "You're the nicest person I've ever met." She bit her lip nervously. She really wanted to touch him, but maybe he would think it an invasion, a violation of his privacy? After all, they had just met. But she wanted to so badly... "May I touch your hand without my gloves on?" she asked. " I want to know you better... I promise not to root about in your head," she added quickly.

Ron looked at her steadily for a moment. "I have a better idea," he said quietly. And he bent his head and kissed her very gently on the lips.

Her first reaction was to recoil. This was too intimate. This was too... nice. For all she had been dreading his secrets, she was pleasantly surprised. His mind, his heart... like a house with every door open, every window wide... all light and fresh breeze...There was no secret bitterness in him; he was sometimes angry, sometimes resentful, but it was as though he put them on a shelf, not to hide but to keep out of the way. He was sometimes jealous of Harry, but that was on the shelf, too, as though to say Yes, I envy him, but he's my best friend and I will not hurt him. Aliset was sorry when Ron drew away.

He examined her face anxiously, searching for a sign of anger or disgust. Aliset merely sat there, looking and feeling stunned. "Are you upset?" Ron asked, slightly breathless.

Aliset raised her fingers to her lips in wonder. "I've never been kissed before," she murmured.

"Are you angry?" Ron's hands knotted themselves in his lap.

"No," Aliset replied, her whole face gone pink. "If you don't mind... Would you kiss me again?"

She had barely finished the question when Ron happily obliged.

***

Voldemort stared into the flames, motionless, with the Death Eater he had sent for standing patiently behind him.

The man stood on the very spot where Karkaroff was killed, had he but known. Although he probably would not have cared.

Eventually, the Dark Lord turned around. "You have a son at Hogwarts, do you not?" he asked peremptorily.

"Yes, my lord." The man did not seem surprised by the question.

"And are you aware that Karkaroff's little pet seer is now at the school?" Voldemort asked. He knew that his Death Eaters followed Hogwart's business as thoroughly as he did, but it paid to be sure.

"Yes, my lord."

"I want you to tell your son to arrange a meeting between you and this girl - I don't care how - and then you are to bring her to me." His eyes, with their eerie vertical pupils, narrowed. "Do not tell your son what you plan. It is of utmost importance that he is not... contaminated with this information, otherwise the seer will know." He waved his hand in dismissal. "I leave the details to you."

"Thank you, my lord," said Lucius Malfoy smoothly, then bowed and left.