'Difficult?'
'He will test you. Your strength. He will show you things…awful things, things you can?t imagine.'
'I can imagine some pretty bad things.' Draco accomplished a one-shouldered shrug. 'Come on, I?ve seen Severus Snapes pajamas.
Nothing can terrify me.'
Without thinking, she reached out and seized his wrist. 'I?m serious.'
'So am I.' There was a feverish malicious amusement in his silver-black eyes as he looked at her. 'Those pajamas, they had little hearts on them. It was horrible.'
'These things are worse. They are so bad you could die from them.'
Draco didn?t reply for a moment. Hen he leaned forward, so close she could feel his breath stirring her hair, and said evenly, 'What do you care if I die?'
'I do care-'
'No you don?t.' His voice was calm, his eyes on her speculative.
'I?m not usually wrong about people,' he said. 'I was wrong about you. I won?t forgive you for that.'
'I told you. This is not my fault.'
He gave a short bark of laughter. 'Not your fault? Okay, one of us has been drinking and I?m sad to say it isn?t me.'
She reached out again, caught at his sleeve. 'Let me explain, let me tell you why — my sister-'
He cast her hand away from him so violently that it smacked against the edge of the table, sending a shooting pain up her arm. 'Don?t touch me.'
'I know you feel lied to — '
'Yes, well, that would be because you lied to me. Funny how these things work.'
A sudden white blaze of anger lit inside her, and she could feel her breath coming short. Of course, that was happening often, these days. 'You are a fine one to talk about lies,' she snarled. 'After I have just seen you turn your back on the only person in your life who was ever a friend to you.'
Draco went white. She saw his hand go back and wondered for a moment if he was going to hit her, and resolved that if he did, she would hit him back. And then a voice cut through the buzzing of anger and exhaustion in her head, a voice that pinned them both in place, immobile as butterflies caught under glass.
'Children,' said Salazar Slytherin from the doorway. 'When you are done…fighting with each other, I require your attention.'
'Waiting for us?' Hermione echoed faintly, still staring.
The boy who looked like Harry nodded. 'Theres not much time.
You?d better come with me right away.'
'Not so fast,' said Ron, trying to push Ginny and Hermione behind him. This was unsuccessful, since both of them resisted his efforts to be protective with indignant muttering noises. 'Who are you? Why should we go anywhere with you?'
'Ron,' interrupted Ginny, pushing at his arm. 'Can?t you see he looks just like Harry?'
'And that automatically makes him trustworthy? If he was a dead ringer for Professor Vector would you be following him home?'
The boy was looking at them as if they were mad. 'Who do I look like?'
'A friend of ours,' said Hermione, giving Rons hand a warning rap with her knuckles. 'Did you say you?ve been waiting here for us?
How do you know who we are, and how did you know we would be here? And are you…you must be a Gryffindor. Aren?t you?'
The boys face tightened. 'Godric Gryffindor was my father.' He looked at the girls, and swept them a little bow. 'My name is Benjamin.'
Ginny looked impressed. 'He bowed,' she said, poking Hermione.
'Guys never do that any more.'
'I was raised to be polite to women,' said Benjamin, glancing at them dubiously. 'Even if they are dressed like Muggle men.'
Ron was still looking at him suspiciously. 'How do we know you are who you say you are?'
The boy sighed, and reached over his shoulder. He drew forth something that glimmered in the sharp sunlight — it was a long-bladed sword in a scabbard of marred, dark silver, engraved all over with brilliant designs of flowers and animals and leaves that flowed together intricately to form the word Gryffindor. The hilt of the sword was set with scarlet stones which formed the shape of a lion.
Ginny sucked in her breath, looking at the hilt. 'Harry had that sword with him in the Chamber of Secrets. Thats the sword of Gryffindor.'
'Yes, it is,' said Benjamin, and looked hard at her. 'You?re Helgas heir. You look like she must have when she was younger.'
She nodded. 'I?m Ginny.'
'And you are the Heir of Ravenclaw,' he went on, looking at Hermione. 'Shes been waiting for you.' His gaze slid to Ron. 'Are you…the Heir of Gryffindor? I didn?t think you would be so…'
'Red-headed?' put in Ginny with a mischievous smile.
'I?m nobodys Heir,' said Ron, looking long-suffering. 'Just some git along for the ride, apparently.'
