Ginny Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

GINNY POTTER AND THE SORCERER'S STONE

Chapter One - Draco Strikes Back

The pale young man looked up at the sky and thought that it was a magnificent day. Absolutely perfect. He smiled, thinking of years of insults borne, unable to retaliate properly. Today would be different.

Draco Malfoy gripped his wand as he eyed Harry Potter's child, playing in the grassy meadow behind the hill that shielded Malfoy from view. He steeled himself, focusing on the mission at hand. For maximum effect, the timing had to be perfect.

Malfoy tried to ignore the child, who was trying to get a garden gnome on his toy broomstick. Even at five years of age, the kid was obsessed with broomsticks. Malfoy didn't have to guess where that predisposition had come from.

Pushing that thought out of his mind, he heard the clicking sound - like a cricket, almost - that indicated his partner was in place, ready to strike. Malfoy was a bit disappointed; his partner would be the one casting the curses this time; all Malfoy was doing was providing a distraction. Of course, the distraction that his other partner was providing was much more crucial. Malfoy remembered the instructions he had been given - "do something they will never forget" - and prepared to strike.

Malfoy looked once more at the Potter child, thinking of the child's innocence and vulnerability. Anger coursed through him as the second cricket chirp reached his ears. It was time.

Malfoy charged forward, shouting the incantation to the sky:

"MORSMORDRE SUBSANNATIO!"

A blast of greenish light issued from his wand, rising into the sky over the hill and forming into the serpent-skull that was the symbol of the Dark Mark. Another blast of greenish light, slightly darker in color, erupted from Malfoy's partner's wand, and struck its target dead center in the chest. The effect of the curse on the victim was immediate, much to Malfoy's satisfaction.

Malfoy ran up and looked down at their victim, as his comrade joined him, admiring their handiwork. With fixed stares of hatred, they looked at the limp body on the ground, before Malfoy's partner broke into a grin and spoke.

"You must have missed the "no trespassing" sign," said Ron Weasley, being careful not to get too close to the terrified Daily Prophet reporter who, limp no longer, was not merely belching, but vomiting slugs violently all over his own robes.

The reporter's terrified eyes rolled to Draco, who just grinned and said, "You don't seem to like my little creation. Does it bother you?"

Looming above Draco, the Dark Mark metamorphosed into a face with a scar on the forehead, glasses, and wavy hair. The face opened its mouth and a huge yellow tongue came out and wagged at the hapless reporter, still lying on his back. The reporter's camera lay forgotten off to the side, a slug slithering through its shattered lens.

Ron's face turned serious again, as Hermione Weasley strode up behind the pair and put a hand around Ron's waist and eyed her husband's victim with a look that reminded the terrified reporter of his school days under Minerva McGonagall. He struggled for breath and felt his stomach heave as he violently discharged another slug onto his shoes.

"As you can see, my husband and his friend are a bit tired of the constant attention of the press. More importantly, they are very defensive of the privacy of my godson and his mother. I don't think you should ever come back here uninvited." Hermione gave him a sweet smile as she concluded her little speech.

Draco pointed his wand at the prone figure on the ground and muttered, "Finite Incantatum," before he adroitly stepped around a pool of vomit and knelt down before the reporter, produced a piece of cloth, wiped off a portion of the reporter's cheek, and gently touched the reporter's cheek with his hand. His grey-blue eyes bored into the terrified eyes of the frozen figure who was no longer vomiting but who was even more deathly pale than Draco. He spoke with a quiet, almost tender voice.

"Please don't ever come near this family again. Please don't make me do something to you more disturbing than what happened today. Please understand that I am not all fun and games, and respect this family's privacy, even if you quite obviously don't respect them. You don't even have to respect me, just stay away."

"Although you'd be well advised to fear him, mind you," muttered Ron as he looked over his shoulder at the disintegrating face in the sky.

"Why don't you go now?" Draco's final five words were all that was needed to send the reporter staggering down the hill. Obviously, the reporter was too weak to consider Apparating away from the site of his humiliation and just wanted to get away as quickly as his unsteady legs could carry him.

"We'll clean up your mess, don't worry!" called the taunting voice of Ron Weasley as the reporter vanished into the distance.

Hermione waited until the reporter was gone before rounding on Draco with fury. "And just WHAT was that...that...abomination, Draco?" Ron, curiously, was not looking angry at all, but indeed was struggling to choke back a giggle.

Draco spoke calmly. "I was just doing what I was told. You told me to scare the hell out of that idiot, while you distracted little Sirius and Ron hit him with his new spell. I did just that and tested my new spell at the same time."

Hermione was not to be mollified. "I told you to scare him, but the Dark Mark? The Dark Mark? Why, Draco? And why did that abomination turn into Harry's face? That's just creepy!" Hermione shook her head in disgust.

Ron coughed, nervously.

"Er, Mione, that was my idea. I helped Draco come up with that."

Draco grinned, and told Ron, "Worked splendidly, too, and I was pleased that you finally got that Slug Vomitorious spell tested. Mind you, it worked a lot better than that stupid 'Eat Slugs!' curse you tried on me a million years ago."

Ron's ears flushed red a bit before he turned to Hermione and tried haltingly to explain.

"Well, er, Draco and I were thinking that, well..."

Draco interrupted, in a serious tone, dropping all pretenses at his normal devil-may-care attitude.

"Ron and I both feel that this may give us a slight tactical advantage over Voldemort someday. If you think about it, you can probably figure out why."

Draco didn't say what was running through his mind. He knew Hermione would figure it out herself.

Some day, we're going to face Voldemort a final time. He prides himself on distancing himself from human emotion, except hate. He hates, but he doesn't feel. Going beyond hate and forcing him into pure rage may shake his control. Voldemort loves to be feared, but he can't handle being mocked. I know this from very bitter experience.

Draco's face flushed, eyes losing focus for just a second before fixing on Hermione again.

"And besides - " Draco broke into a smile again " - it was fun, wasn't it? I think Harry would have liked it."

Hermione just shook her head. "You two are insane. Madder than Dumbledore!"

Ron turned to Draco.

"Have we just been complimented or insulted?"

"Both, I think."

"Are you children done playing so we can get back to the picnic now, or is Draco going to dress up in hooded robes and go in for a spot of Muggle-torture to make sure his fighting instincts are properly honed for the greater good?" Ginny Potter's words were angry, but she was smiling as she walked up carrying little Sirius Potter in her arms.

Draco turned and looked at Ginny, and her son, and for some reason, could not think of an appropriate witty comeback. He gave her a wan smile, and realized it had been almost two years since her husband had died. He looked at little Sirius, and for just a moment, saw Harry looking back at him through the eyes of his only son. Sirius was grinning, and Draco gave a quick smile before turning away, quickly, tensing his jaw in an attempt to keep his eyes dry. After all, Malfoys didn't cry.