A Life in the Past

Chapter 1: A Day of Boredom

"Ron, I'm bored!" Ginny Weasley said to her brother, for the third time that morning.

"Harry and Hermione will be here next week," said Ron. "You won't be so bored when they get here."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'll be even more bored," she whined. "You'll spend all your time with them, rather than me."

"You've gone back to annoying, talkative Ginny," said Ron. "I missed the transformation."

"Hmm, let's see," said Ginny. "It happened in your fourth year, my third year; when you were too busy looking at French girls, and being angry with Harry. Oh yeah, and trying to get with Hermione. But the only reason you didn't notice was because you couldn't be bothered to spend any time with your only sister."

"I didn't ask for an essay," said Ron. Then his face brightened a little. "There's an idea," he said. "Why don't you finish your homework? You've got loads of it."

"I finished it already," said Ginny, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Er, why don't we ask Fred and George if they want to play Quidditch?" Ron suggested.

"They're at work; their shop opens in two weeks," said Ginny. "And they took Charlie with them. Mum and Bill have gone to Diagon Alley, and Perce and Dad are at work too. There's nothing to do, and I'm bored."

"So I heard," said Ron. "Well, there's really nothing for us to do around here. Why don't we start up a business like Fred and George?"

"Because we're both too young to do magic over the summer, and we're both quite poor," Ginny replied.

"Did I tell you the good news?" asked Ron, rather sarcastically. "Harry and Hermione have been made Head Boy and Girl, isn't it great?"

"Bet you're jealous," said Ginny. "Your best friend is living your dreams. Quidditch captain and Prefect in his fifth year, Head Boy in his seventh. Top marks, while you're just average old Ron."

"Shut up, Ginny," said Ron, more playfully than irritably.

"I've got an idea," said Ginny. "Something that's got to be great fun."

"What is it?" asked Ron. "You're not going to try and talk to the ghoul again, are you? Because remember what happened last time?"

"No, no," said Ginny. "Nothing like that. I thought we could go down into the cellar, maybe have a look around? And Mum's not here to stop us going down there."

"No," said Ron, slightly shaky. "There's spiders down there. And besides, we'd have to get past the garden gnomes to go down there."

"Stop being such a baby, Ron," said Ginny. "And what harm are the gnomes going to do?" She grasped Ron by the wrist and dragged him to the back door.

"Ginny, no," said Ron. "We can't go down there. It's not safe."

"There aren't killer spiders, Ron," said Ginny, stepping outside, pulling Ron behind her. "You have nothing to worry about." Ginny walked to the very back of the garden, where there was a trap door, leading down to the cellar.

"Ginny, let's go back," said Ron. "We'll play chess, or exploding snap, let's just not go down there."

"The spiders won't hurt you," said Ginny, pulling the door open, looking down into the cellar. "Go on, you first."

"No," said Ron, folding his arms. "I won't go."

"Then I'll just have to make you," said Ginny, pushing Ron forward, into the cellar.

There was a muffled noise as he hit the concrete floor.

"You're really cruel," Ron called up. "That really hurt!"

"Stop the whining," said Ginny, climbing down the ladder leading into the small room.

The cellar was dark, and the only light was flooded in from the trap door. The walls were constructed from tightly packed dirt, and it smelled of a mix of rotten earth and soil.

"Argh! Spider!" Ron shouted.

Ginny bent down and picked up the little black spider, squishing it. "See?" she said. "They can't harm you."

"I don't like it down here," said Ron. "Let's go back up, where the air is fresh, and it's easy to see."

But Ginny wasn't listening; she was looking around the room, examining objects. She found and old cracked mirror with a handle made of gold, and a set of old, rustic looking keys. "I wonder what these are for?" she said, holding the keys up.

"I don't care," said Ron. "Let's just get out of here."

"No," said Ginny. "Come on, let's find out what these keys are for."

Ron stood rooted to one spot, and made no effort to move, while Ginny explored the little room, searching for a place the keys would fit. Just as she was about to give up and conclude that the keys were probably for some door in some other place, she stumbled upon a trunk. It was a magnificent trunk, dark wood, with three key holes, each gone rusty, but they still held a similarity to the keys.

"What's this?" Ginny wondered aloud.

Ron looked over to where she was, and despite himself, joined her on the floor, examining the trunk.

Ginny slipped one of the keys into the first key hole and turned it. The sound of a click told her she had unlocked the trunk. She smiled to herself and lifted the lid of the trunk. Inside it were two cloaks made from fine wool, one was green, and the other was red. She lifted the cloaks out of the trunk, pulling the green one over her shoulders.

"How do I look?" she asked.

"Oy! Don't do that!" said Ron. "You don't know what kind of dark magic can be about that thing."

"Don't worry," said Ginny. "It was in our own house." She handed him the red cloak. "Here, put this on," she said.

Ron shook his head, but accepted the cloak from his nagging little sister and just held it.

Ginny went back to the trunk. She closed the lid, and heard a click that meant the trunk had locked itself. She slipped a second key into the second key hole, but she could not turn it. She tried the last key, and amazingly enough, it unlocked the second key holed. Inside the trunk this time was a large pile of gold.

"Whoa!" said Ron, his eyes dancing over the treasure excitedly. "There's got to be at least a thousand Galleons there!"

Ginny nodded. "I wonder why Mum and Dad don't know about this?" she said, giving Ron a questioning look.

Ron shrugged. "I doubt they've ever been down here," he replied.

Ginny closed the lid of the trunk.

"What are you doing?" asked Ron. "Did you not see all that gold?"

"I did," said Ginny. "But I'm just curious as to what else is in the trunk."

"All right," said Ron. "But when you find out, we're going back to the Galleons."

Ginny slid the respective key into the final key hole and twisted it. For some reason, she hesitated before lifting the lid. When she did finally lift up the trunk lid, the small cellar was flooded with a bright white light. Ginny and Ron were both knocked backwards by an invisible force, and they lay unconscious at opposite ends of the room...

***

"Oh, Father!" Draco Malfoy called down the corridor. He wanted to make sure his father was not around, so that he could go down under the drawing room floor. The reason Draco wanted to go in the hidden chamber was because he had seen his father emerge from there earlier that morning, and he was curious as to what was hidden down there.

"Your father is out on business, Draco," said a voice behind him, startling him.

Draco turned around to face his mother. "Is he going to be back any time soon?" Draco asked.

Narcissa Malfoy shook his head. "I'm afraid he'll be gone until evening," she sighed. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

Draco shook his head. "Are you going somewhere?" he asked, just noticing that his mother was wearing her cloak.

Narcissa nodded. "I'm meeting your father for luncheon," she replied. "He cannot come home, so I said I would go to him."

"Oh," said Draco, nodding. "Well, goodbye then."

Narcissa nodded goodbye to her son, and Apparated to her husband's whereabouts leaving at the sound of the familiar 'pop.'

Draco smiled to himself. Both parental units gone at one time. This was not uncommon around Malfoy Manor; for Draco to be left alone, but Draco certainly didn't mind. It meant more time to explore his father's supply of dark arts objects. And this time was no different.

Draco made his way down the corridor to the drawing room. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, not bothering to close the door behind himself. He hurried over to the trap door in the floor and lifted the door up. He climbed carefully down into the secret chamber, which was already well-lit with torches that protruded from the walls. The walls were made of rough stone, as was the floor.

Draco smirked when he saw a chalk circle drawn on the floor. So, his father had been up to something, and he was about to find out just what that was. Lying on the floor in the centre of the circle was a silver spoon. Draco picked up the spoon, using no caution. It was just a normal silver spoon, in fact, Draco had a feeling it was the same spoon his father had eaten his dessert with after supper the previous night.

Draco pocketed the spoon and quickly moved his attention to a little black box that seemed to have been thrown aside. Suddenly, it didn't matter what his father was up to, this box seemed far more interesting than even necromancy.

The box was about the size of a match-box, but Draco wouldn't know that, he wasn't raised around such Muggle objects. He noticed that the box had a lid; so obviously, he decided to lift the lid, an action he would soon regret...