Be Careful
66: Who You Say You Love
By Anne B. Walsh
Terror set Ginny’s thoughts racing, even as she fought down the visible signs of fear. “So you’ve made me something special to drink,” she said, putting on a lofty society tone such as the older Slytherin girls sometimes used. “How nice of you. I hope it has a good taste.”
“Oh, I’m told it tastes quite nice indeed.” Zabini balanced the stirring stick on the edge of the cauldron. “You’ll have to tell me, after you’ve drunk it.”
“But I’d really rather not be the very first one to try it.” Ginny pulled her legs onto the bed and scooted back across it, bringing herself to within easy reach of Goyle. “Couldn’t you be persuaded to try it first yourself?” She arched her back, making Crabbe stare. “I wouldn’t think it’ll affect you too much. You’re already in love with yourself, after all.”
Zabini laughed raucously. “Me? Try this? Surely you’re joking.”
Of course I’m joking, and don’t call me Shirley. Ginny lifted her bound hands cautiously until she felt smooth wood against her fingers. But do keep talking, keep their attention on you...
“Still, I must admit I find your sense of humor one of your more attractive points.” Zabini tapped a finger against the rim of the cauldron. “I’ve been brewing this for four months, Weasley girl—or no, I should call you by your given name now, shouldn’t I, if we’re to be such good friends?” He frowned. “I assume it’s not merely ‘Ginny?’ I may have to choose a new one for you if it is.”
Ginny administered a mental thwack to the portion of her brain which was insisting she should claim her real name was Shirley and looked demure, not an easy task while her hands were working in frantic slow motion behind her back. “Ginevra,” she said. “My full name is Ginevra.”
“Ginevra.” Zabini turned the word over in his mouth, tasting it. “How exotic for such a homegrown creature as yourself.”
“If I’m so homegrown, why are you interested in me?” Ginny challenged. Her palms were sweating, making her task doubly hard. Harry. Think of Harry. Unless you can get out of this, you’re never going to see him again. “Why not go after someone more fitting?”
Zabini shook his head in wonder. “You have to ask? Ginevra, Ginevra, all my life girls have come at my call. It’s my mother’s greatest gift to me, or her greatest curse. Any girl I’ve ever wanted, I’ve been able to have. Except you. You said no.”
And this makes me a candidate why? Ginny breathed a silent sigh of relief as her objective slipped smoothly up her sleeve. Goyle hadn’t noticed a thing. Thank you, Fred, George, for those pocket-picking lessons when I was seven—I swear I’ll ask Mum to go easier on you for the mail-order business next time I’m home.
“No,” Zabini repeated. “It wasn’t a word I was used to. So I set out to find a way to change it into a word I understood better.” His mocking grin appeared again. “Of course, when you add in that I can take a little revenge on Harry Potter for his actions against the Dark Lord, and possibly even bring him back here to find out why you’ve abandoned him, today becomes more satisfying than it already was. If such a thing is possible. So, if we are quite finished with our little chitchat, may I suggest we proceed to the main event of the day?” He tapped the cauldron with the stirring stick. “Changing your ‘no’ to a ‘yes’?”
“Neville and Hannah, sitting in a—ow!”
“You’re forgetting who you are,” hissed ‘Daphne Greengrass,’ glowering at ‘Theodore Nott.’ “Stop it!”
‘Nott’ rubbed his arm and glared at ‘Daphne.’ “You’re forgetting Rule Ninety-Eight,” he said. “If you keep being mean to me, we’re going to get killed.”
“You-Know-Who hasn’t read that stupid list!”
“How do you know?”
Neville, walking a step or two in front of the pair, wasn’t bothering to stop himself smiling. They’d left the village behind and were walking across an open field with no one in sight, which meant it probably wasn’t necessary for his disguised friends to keep acting like the people whose identities they’d temporarily stolen.
But I’m still glad Hermione stopped Ron singing that song. I don’t like Hannah... well, I mean, I like her, but I don’t like like her... I don’t think...
A hand landed on his shoulder, startling him out of his thoughts. “Have a seat,” said the voice his gut said was Nott’s, but his mind knew was Ron’s. “The boss will be along in a minute.”
Neville sat down on a fold of his cloak, which was waterproof, and watched as Ron bent down and obtained a handful of snow. Hermione, kneeling a few feet away, seemed not to have noticed, but Neville saw her hands moving in scooping motions in front of her, and he doubted she was sculpting miniature snowmen.
Well, that accounts for what they’re doing out in this field alone, but if anyone sees me just sitting here, they’re going to start wondering why...
A veil of silvery fabric dropped between him and the rest of the world. He reached out to touch it; it felt like water made into cloth. Through it, he saw Ron hurl his first snowball, saw Hermione dodge and throw one back that missed by several feet, heard his friends both laughing, not even the borrowed voices of the Slytherins able to disguise the fun they were having—
Someone cleared his throat. Neville jerked his head back around and grinned.
“I knew you’d come back,” he said, squeezing Harry’s outstretched hand. “I knew it.”
“Glad to hear it.” Harry returned the grin for a moment, but it was forced. “You look terrible. Has it been that bad?”
Neville shrugged. “We get by. Is this it? Is it time?” Please, say yes, he prayed silently. For Ginny’s sake, if not for mine. She’d kill me if I told you how they’re going after her, but they are, and the only way it’s going to stop is if we throw the Carrows out or she gets away...
Harry shook his head. “Sorry. We’re making progress, we’re farther along than I ever thought we would be, but there’s still one thing we don’t have. The reason we’re here is that Luna sent us.”
“Luna?” Neville sat up a little straighter. “You’ve heard from her?”
“Indirectly. She left a package in one of the places we’ve been searching, and if I ever figure out how she knew where we’d be, I’ll tell you. In any case, part of the package was a letter that suggested we come to one of the Hogsmeade weekends, so here we are. And I’m supposed to give you this.” Harry rummaged in his pocket for a moment and pulled out a large, dirty square of parchment. “It was my dad’s, so don’t mess it up.”
“I won’t.” Neville received it reverently. “This is that magical map, isn’t it? The one that shows where people are in the castle?”
“This is it.” Harry held out his hand. "Can I borrow your wand? Mine isn't working right now."
Neville drew his wand and handed it over. Harry waved it a few times experimentally, then touched it to the center of the parchment. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. It knows the identity of the person who’s activating it,” he added as the lines began to form, “and it’ll show you the people you’ve associated with the most, plus random other ones it thinks you might be interested in.”
“Smart.” Neville peered down at the Marauder’s Map, watching the different levels of Hogwarts grow on its surface. “How do I send it blank again?”
“Another tap and ‘mischief managed.’ Make sure to do that every time and no one else will be able to use it, because it won’t respond to anything but the correct passwords.” Harry snickered. “It insulted Snape one time when he tried to force it to work. Called him an idiot and told him to wash his hair.”
Neville laughed. For this one moment, everything at Hogwarts was the way it should be again.
Then he looked back down at the Map, which was currently showing the dungeons.
His mind froze. From the slurry of brain and ice emerged two very simple thoughts.
This is not good.
Not good at all.
“But I think you’re being terribly unfair,” said Ginny, letting a hint of a pout show on her face.
“Unfair? How?”
“You ought to let your friends have some of that lovely potion before you give any to me!” Ginny declared. “It smells so good, it should taste even better, and it would make them so very happy, but no, you’re being rude and keeping it all for me, and that isn’t fair at all!”
“What are you talking about?” Zabini asked suspiciously. Behind him, Crabbe was frowning deeply as he tried to understand the long and complicated words.
I don’t believe I’m about to say this. “Your friends!” Ginny gushed. “Your comrades in arms, so strong and so loyal!” A simpering smile, first up towards Goyle, then outward towards Crabbe. “I think they deserve a reward for helping you bring us together, and what would be better than giving them the greatest joy in the world by letting them sample your wonderful potion?” Another pout, and this time she managed to summon up a tear to go with it. All it took was imagining her fate if her desperation ploy didn’t work. “But no, you won’t let them have even the teeniest drop, when that’s all it would take to give them what they deserve for all their hard work—”
Crabbe bellowed like a bull and made a rush for the cauldron. Zabini whipped out his wand and nailed the larger Slytherin with an Impediment Jinx. Unfortunately, this didn’t stop Goyle, who had lumbered out from behind the bed and was now on his knees beside the cauldron. His hand went in—he yelped and shoved his fingers into his mouth—
And his expression changed, from one of grim determination to absolute devotion. Zabini spun an instant too late; Goyle had already clambered to his feet, and now he flung his arms around the black boy, pinning Zabini’s wand arm by his side. Zabini’s eyes bugged out as Goyle squeezed, a look of doglike bliss on his face.
Ginny enjoyed the spectacle for precisely half a second before getting down to business. Her right hand went up her left sleeve, grasped the end of the item she’d stowed there, and pointed it at the ropes. “Diffindo,” she whispered, cutting them cleanly.
Crabbe, meanwhile, had recovered from the Impediment Jinx, and was at the cauldron, scooping a handful of boiling potion directly into his mouth. His cry of pain modulated, as he looked at Zabini, into a tender croon, and he leapt up and opened his arms wide, sending the cauldron flying and spilling the remainder of the potion across the floor. “I love you!” he shouted.
Pulling ends of rope free from her wrists, Ginny stifled a laugh at the mix of terror and disgust Zabini was now evincing. Hoist by your own petard, there, snake-boy.
Goyle let go of Zabini, who staggered back, wheezing, and whirled to face Crabbe. “I loved him first!” he yelled, stamping his foot like a five-year-old.
“Well, I love him better, so there!”
“Do not!”
“Do so!”
With inarticulate shrieks of rage, the two charged at one another.
I do believe that’s my exit cue. Ginny shot a quick Disarmer at Zabini, who was now leaning against the far wall trying to catch his breath, and saluted him with her wand as she caught his in her off hand. “Have fun with your new boyfriends,” she said over the sound of the fighting Crabbe and Goyle. “Ta-ta.”
“Stop her!” Zabini found the breath to shout as Ginny blasted the door off its hinges. “I’ll love whichever of you can catch her, I swear I will!”
I’m almost tempted to let them catch me, just so I can see that.
Almost.
Ginny sprinted up the hall, hearing Crabbe and Goyle’s thunderous steps behind her. A right, a left, another left—
Oh no, oh no, I haven’t been down here before, I think I’m lost—
She chose corridors at random, bolting away from the pounding feet, but always seeming to hear them ahead as well as behind—
I refuse to let it end like this. I will not be caught!
But she was starting to tire, and her pursuers showed no signs of slowing.
If there really is someone else around here on our side, now would be a good time for some help...
Harry snatched the Map from Neville, staring down at the dot labeled “Ginny Weasley,” which was wending its way through a maze of halls, hotly pursued by “Vincent Crabbe” and “Gregory Goyle.” His face went hard, and Neville edged surreptitiously back.
If You-Know-Who could see him like this, maybe the war would be over already...
“Oh no you don’t,” Harry said softly. “Not when I’m right here. I’ll go up there and—”
“And what?” said Neville, his mouth moving without consent from his mind.
Harry lifted his head and subjected Neville to the full force of his glare. Neville wanted to flinch, but reminded himself of what he’d already been through this year and held firm. “If you’re not ready to finish the fight, you can’t go in there,” he said. “Half the school’s on You-Know-Who’s side, they’d turn you in for a tin Knut, and there’s two hundred thousand Galleons on your head—”
“So should I just sit here?” Harry demanded. “And let this happen?” His finger jabbed down at the Map.
Automatically, Neville looked where Harry was pointing. “Let what happen?” he said. “There’s nothing there except the kitchens.”
“Typical.” Harry glowered at the Map. “The one time something’s happening worth watching—”
He went utterly still for one second, then aimed Neville's wand towards himself and began to mutter. Neville caught only the last word: “Now.” Then Harry pointed the wand in the direction of the distant castle.
“Expecto patronum!”
There were a couple other ways Ginny could have gotten/been gotten out of her predicament, but I liked this one. Hope you did too. The final unwinding, and what she’s going to steal from Snape’s office, very soon! Reviews make it sooner!