Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, not am I affiliated with it in any way.
A/N: Most of this multi-chaptered fic is already written. I except to get about 5-6 medium-length chapters out of it in the end. As always, please review.
Harry didn't know what the appeal of Albania had for Deather Eaters, but he was sick to death of these bloody woods. He skidded to a stop behind a thick-trunked tree and tried to regulate his breathing without panting or getting dizzy. A cut on his forehead was dripping hotly into his left eye, and he mopped the blood aside quickly with the back of his wand hand. He could hear the shouting of Death Eaters behind him as they caught up, and he tried to make himself as small as possible against the tree, and wondered whether Ginny had run in the other direction as he'd told her or doubled back to join him. Knowing Ginny, it was the latter, which would put her squarely in danger.
He didn't have long to ponder before three Death Eaters soared past his hiding place in pursuit, calling threats into the darkness. He prepared to follow them and take them by surprise, but just as he was moving to leave the tree, he caught the distinct sound of footfalls behind him. Harry froze and waited, perfectly still. A hooded figure padded deftly, but not entirely silently, past him.
Harry would recognize her anywhere.
With her within sight, casting a Patronus was easy work. He whipped his wand from side to side, the incant barely audible on his lips, and a stag erupted from his wand, moving to prance around in front of Ginny before disappearing. Patronuses gave off too much light, attracted too much attention, but there was no way to fake one. He saw her shoulders dismiss their tension, and then she produced her own Patronus—a wild horse, and turned around to look directly at Harry in his crouching position against the tree.
His teeth flashed in the darkness of the night, and she stepped quickly forward into him. He stood to catch her in his arms, and their lips crashed together heatedly for an instant before he pulled her back. He pointed in the direction the Death Eaters had gone, and made a gesture to indicate they should be quiet and careful. She nodded, and they moved in the direction of the Death Eaters, hand in hand.
It was nearly three weeks since Voldemort had been defeated at the Battle of Hogwarts as the Daily Prophet had dubbed it, but it hadn't been the end of the war. When Harry had unwittingly defeated the Dark Lord as a baby, the First Wizarding War had ended nearly overnight, with his followers so astonished and shell-shocked that they fell to shambles without their leader. It truly had been like the proverbial removing of the snake's head. There had been a lot of mess to clean up, for certain, and a long and complicated court process, but the fight had gone out of the Death Eaters.
The Second Wizarding War had not ended so swiftly.
Perhaps, this time, the Death Eaters simply found they had nothing left to lose. Many of them had bartered or cheated their way out of Azkaban after the first war—citing trickery and threats against their lives—and knew there would be no way to convince the Ministry they were innocent this time. The public takeover of the Ministry had openly exposed them as the traitors they were.
It was possible, too, that they didn't believe Voldemort to be truly defeated. He had defied death once before, and could certainly do so again many believe, though Harry knew this to be irrefutably untrue. He had seen the thing that was all that was left of the shard of Voldemort's soul that had been a part of him for nearly all his life. Harry knew that nothing remained to bring back, but the strength of a zealot's faith was indomitable, and nothing is so dangerous as a cornered animal fighting for its life.
Ahead of them, Harry and Ginny could hear voices arguing. The Death Eaters had stopped when the realized they had lost Harry's trail, and they were shouting at each other in Albanian. Harry and Ginny grinned at each other briefly and crouched before drawing their wands and creeping forward toward the group.
Harry was three steps ahead before she realize that Ginny had fallen behind. A sick feeling formed in his stomach as he turned slowly to look at her. He swore colorfully at the robed witch who had the tip of her wand resting casually at the base of Ginny's neck.
"Stand up slowly," she said to him, her heavily accented voice sounding satisfied.
Carefully, Harry rose and straightened, his hands automatically moving in front of him so that she could see them clearly.
"Drop the wand," she commanded, jabbing Ginny in the back of the head with her wand when Ginny told him not to. "Drop. Your. Wand," she repeated, and Harry let it slip from between his fingers and fall to the ground.
"Good," she crooned, "but I'm afraid I don't need your pretty, little girlfriend."
Her lips formed the beginnings of the Killing Curse, but Harry was already in motion. Bellowing like a wounded animal, he launched his whole body at the witch, tackling her to the ground and wrestling for her wand. Behind him, Ginny screamed, and he turned abruptly to face her, but he only had a second to register two wizards advancing on her before the world turned red and then faded away.
With a gasp, Harry jerked awake and sat up straight in his bed, sweat soaking his sheets. Breathing heavily, he blinked around his room dumbly, trying to remember the nightmare that was dissolving into his subconscious. His alarm clock was blinking harshly in the darkness of his room, telling him that it was three twenty-three in the morning, and he groaned.
There was a soft knock at his door, and it opened a crack. "Harry?" a woman's asked, sounding equally worried and annoyed. "Are you all right?"
"What?" he asked stupidly. "Oh, yeah," he said, turning over to go back to sleep.
"I'm fine. Sorry, mum. Didn't mean to wake you."
