Uncharted

Chapter 11

I’ve been avoiding Draco as much as possible this week that we’re all back at Hogwarts. Marcus has tried to stay away from me, but, for the most part, we talk awkwardly; he’s been nothing but worried, so I went and talked to Dumbledore. And get this: He thinks it’s a good idea. Apparently that way Ginny gets to stay alive and maybe someone can kill Voldemort once he’s back to being, uhm, well, real, I guess.

But I’m totes not down for this.

I mean, couldn’t someone just burn his diary instead of waiting for him to... remortalize?

“No,” Marcus said as he walked up to the love seat of my resting. “It’s not that easy.”

“What isn’t that easy?” I asked while putting my quill and parchment away.

“Just destroying the diary. You can’t wi--”

“WhydoyouknowIwasthinkingaboutit?”

Marcus shrugged, “We’re connected, remember?” He plopped down next to me and rested his head on his right shoulder.

I sighed and slouched into the love seat. “How could I forget?”

Marcus chuckled and lazily smiled at me. “Speaking of which, your period is killing me.”

I rolled my eyes and huffed up, “Fuck off it.”

“Jeez, calm down. I was just--”

“I don’t care!” I turned and yelled at him, “Someone how my natural cycle is a pain to you? I don’t get cramps. I’m the same person—

“You’re pretty upset now—”

“Because I have to defend a natural part of life to some twit who thinks that having a period somehow weakens my humanity. It’s not fucking killing you. You’re trying to complain over some shit that doesn’t even exist. I’m yelling at you because I’m tired of asshole boys thinking that misogyny is funny. It’s not. Does your morning wood or random boners make you a lesser being? It fucking doesn’t, and I don’t bitch about them.”

He swallowed the spit in his mouth before saying, “Okay, I’m sorry.”

I remained silent.

He sighed. “We need to fix this.”

“I know.”

We sat quietly, but no longer awkwardly. And it suddenly didn’t matter that I was scared or frustrated or exhausted. I just wanted to feel safe again. Normal again. Not mixed up in Marcus or his Death Eater life.

I let Marcus hug me in the midst of my self-pitying. He held me tightly and then mumbled out, “How do you keep getting my sweater?”

I laughed and replied, “I don’t really know.”

There was a knock on the door to my dorm. It was late, but I was still up working on homework; the stresses of figuring out the diary have prevented me from getting anything else done. Draco was on the other side of the door. He stared at me for a minute before spitting out, “It’s time to do the diary.”

“No.” I shut the door, but he caught it in time.

“I don’t like the idea either, but what must be done must be done.”

I pushed his hand off my door and said, “This isn’t my problem.”

Draco whispered, his eyes filled with quiet fright, “He’ll kill Marcus.”

“Not my problem,” I said and tried to close the door.

Draco shoved his way pasted and whispered angrily, “That’ll kill half of you and your body will only have half a soul.”

“That’ll be more than all of your family combined,” I snapped and shoved him out of my room. It didn’t take long for him and Marcus to suddenly appear in my room, though. My roommates definitely took notice, but they didn’t say anything. I walked past everyone and left my room. Marcus and Draco followed me all the way to the Great Hall. I snatched the diary from them, told them not to follow me, and eventually made my way to Dumbledore’s office. Before I could even knock, Dumbledore let me into his office and grabbed the diary out of hands. I closed the door behind me, but I didn’t get a chance to speak.

Dumbledore made his way to his desk and said, “I’ve figured a solution.”

“What would that be?” I sighed and slumped into a chair across from his desk chair.

“We’re going to have to get this into the hands of Harry Potter.”

I almost leaped across his desk. “For what? So He can kill Harry?”

Dumbledore didn’t react to my sudden jump toward him. In his usual calm manner, he replied, “So that Harry may thwart Him.”

“And how do you suppose he’ll manage that?”

“Harry can speak to snakes – it’s only a matter of time until he finds the chamber of secrets.”

“And how do you think he’ll find his way there?”

“By transferring this diary from Draco to a friend of Harry’s.”

“Are you kidding?” I sighed with defeat and slumped back into the chair. I rubbed my forehead and shut my eyes. “To whom? Ron’ll abandon it; Hermione’ll figure it out.”

Dumbledore smiled a small smile, “It is my understanding that Harry fancies a certain Weasley.”

My eyes widened. “You’d risk the life of an eleven year old girl on the chance of a twelve year old boy will figure out everything and save her just in time?”

“I’d use an eleven year old girl so that a group of twelve year olds may start to realize their potential and the challenge Voldemort will be.”

“You’re a twisted old man,” I sighed and got up. “Do whatever you want. You know I’ll be there to help Harry.”

“Luckily, you’re not the only one.”

I paused at Dumbledore’s office door. I gripped the handle and pushed my body against the door. My hot forehead was soothed by the coldness of the door as I said, “The Boy Who Lived certainly has many people pushing him to success.”

“Bitterness won’t solve your problem.”

“And trickery won’t accomplish your plots,” I sneered and walked out.