Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of JK Rowling
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Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter! Would love a few more! Just to let you know, the first few chapters alternate from group to group. :)
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Prologue
They were being herded, ushered into a great parade to be lead through the village… trophies of Voldemorts victory.
"You will follow me, you the defeated, you who deserve to be derided." He laughed mockingly as he mounted Bane the centaur. Bane lowered his head in shame.
"Lift him up." Voldemort ordered, motioning to the pole that lay on the ground. Tied upon it was the body of their chosen one, his broken glasses dangling askew from an ear.
"Yes…" he encouraged when one of his minions moved to fix them, his evil laugh ringing out in the early morning light.
"Put them in their proper place so all can see that it is truly him. The boy who lived to die at my hand!"
His glasses were shoved roughly into place and the pole was raised high into the air, his lifeless body slid down slightly, then came to a stop as the ropes that bound him went taut.
"Let me have the others, bring them to me!"
The small family huddled together, their arms wrapped tightly around one another, a young man at the center. Voldemort looked down at them with distain. Only he knew what their crime was. The others could not know, for if they did, they would know that the boy on the pole was only under a sleeping curse, they would know that their chosen one was still alive.
"Separate them." His voice was a deep, angry hiss. All traces of jubilation over his victory gone now while he watched the boy torn from his mother and fathers arms. His lips curled up into a angry sneer at the man he had once almost trusted and the sister of the woman who had gone to her death loyal to him. Narcissa Malfoy should have followed her sisters example…if she had, this would all have been unnecessary.
"Avada Kedavra!"
The small blonde woman fell in a heap at her husbands feet, he looked down at her, his tears pooling for a moment in his eyes before falling to her motionless body. In a last show of strength, he threw off the man who had once been one of his dearest friends. Perhaps Vincent Crabbe Sr. hadn't tried that hard to hold him…perhaps he had some sympathy… he too knew the sting of loss.
"Cissy…oh Cissy!" Lucius lay his face against her neck, his beloved wife. An image came to him of the sweet eleven year old girl who had shyly sat beside him at the Slytherin table moments after being sorted. She had been so beautiful, even as an awkward eleven year old. Her blood was on his hands…it was him who had lead her so deeply into this life, he who had introduced her to Voldemort's inner circle. What was next to come, he felt, was richly deserved.
"Bow to me Lucius." Voldemort pulled them apart with a jerk of his wand. "Bow to me and I might be swayed into sparing the boys life."
Lucius looked at Voldemort with hatred. Hatred far deeper than he had ever felt for the Muggleborn, more than had ever burned for Albus Dumbledore, far, far more than Harry Potter. He looked over at his son, the son he had thrust into this life. Lucius had never seen such fear and to see it on the face of the person that he loved most…he would pay any price for to him saved. He deserved this, but not his son, not his beloved Draco. He went to his knees, his hands splayed out before him on the cold ground, then he lowered his face to his knees.
"P...please my Lord," He stammered "Spare my son."
Voldemort glared "I said, beg." He directed his wand at Draco…
"Crucio!"
Draco began to scream, his body shaking in the hands that held him, his teeth gnashed together. The only pain greater, was the pain of his father.
"No …please! Please stop!" Lucius raised his head, "I'll beg, anything!"
Voldemort released the curse, then turned back to Lucius, an expectant look on his face. Lucius bowed to the ground again.
"I beg you please, please spare my son." His tears splashed the ground as he wept, "Please my Lord, spare my son."
"Very well, you have done your part Lucius, I will spare the boy." He raised his wand, pointing it at Lucius's prone back. "You however, are doomed…
"Avada Kedavra!"
Lucius Malfoy fell to his side, his soul journeying now to join his wife while his son watched on, his heart shattered. He couldn't help thinking of the many times he had mocked Harry Potter for being parentless and guilt unimaginable nearly brought him to his knees. Voldemort gave him a last mocking glance, then looked around at the assembled behind him and bowed his head slightly.
"Let all bear witness that Lord Voldemort keeps his word." He nodded to the two who held Draco "Bind the boy, he will walk behind me!"
The procession began, down the familiar path to Hogsmeade, to the outskirts of the village. In the middle of the group, George Weasley held tight to his sisters hand. She gave it a slight tug and he looked around to be sure it was safe, then he bent his head to listen.
"It will be okay George," She looked up at him with sad tearful eyes. "Harry will come for us, he'll set us free."
A tear came to his eyes; how badly he wished it were true.
"Ginny, Harry's gone…we all saw his body."
"But I saw him…in the Great Hall, just before…"
They were jerked roughly forward, George felt a wand at his back. "Shut up you!"
George waited for the death eater to move on, then looked down at her again. He tightened his hand on hers before looking up to the dead boy on the pole.
As badly as he wanted to believe her, there was no getting around it, the boy who lived… was dead.
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Rise of the Phoenix
Chapter Two
Whispers of Madness
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The woman's load was heavier than normal that afternoon as she walked quickly down the side walk of a quiet London suburb. Her head constantly moved side to side, taking in her surroundings. Even after three years, after all the lengths they had gone to assure their safety, she was scared to death of being discovered.
She -all of them- had very high prices on their heads. Prices so high that should anyone happen across them, they would find themselves very well-off.
It had taken a long time, and a lot of work, for them to become Holly and Robert Galloway, and Norbert Lowe. They had emptied out her considerable savings account and cashed in everything she had of any value. After that, she had posed as a real estate agent and put up a false for sale sign on her parent's house, the rumor was put out that the original owners had been killed in an accident. An obituary was posted in all of the local papers to back the story up. It was quite easy to get away with, she had no other family and her parents were still in Australia… they had no idea they had a daughter.
For a year the three of them had disguised themselves as various muggle couples, pretending to look at the house, while they hid out in one cheap rented motel room after another in the very worst part of London. After enough time had passed, the 'Galloway's' moved in. Even so, it took months for the death eaters to completely buy their story and stop watching the house so 'her brother' could join them. Even now, a year after all of their sneakoscopes and other defenses had gone silent, the three of them lived in constant fear.
That they were free at all was a miracle in itself. Had Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger been captured, they would surely have been executed that night. It was only because of Ron's refusal to believe that Harry was dead, that they were alive now. They had run out onto the grounds, hoping to be able to rouse Harry from some sort of spell. Instead of finding Harry, they had chanced upon Neville Longbottom, himself looking. They searched every inch of the grounds around where Hagrid had lay his body, but found nothing and were just about to run back into the castle when they heard the screams, the horrible voice, Voldemorts voice that told them that everything was lost.
They had made a hasty decision then to run and hide rather then run into the castle to what would surely be their death. Dead, they would be able to do nothing. Alive, they could regroup and find a new way to fight. Surely, Harry had somehow survived…he always had in the past. He would find them, or they would find him. Then, during a clandestine trip into Diagon Alley, Neville unearthed a copy of the Daily Prophet with the horrible pictures of Voldemorts processional through Hogsmeade…and Harry's dead body leading the way. There was nothing left after that but to accept that Harry truly was dead.
"I'm home." She called out, her voice tired and weary. She hated her job, Hermione Granger wasn't born to be a waitress.
"Hey," A voice called out from down the long hallway, the voice she most needed to hear on days like this. "I'm in here."
She passed through the kitchen, dropping the bags as she went and re-entered the hall, pushing open the door at the end. Ron sat on the toilet, his hair wet and smelly, covered in black hair dye. How she missed his bright red hair.
"You could have waited," She bent to kiss him. "I would have helped you."
"It's okay, just needed to touch up the roots." He smiled, making his blue eyes sparkle…a sweet reminder of the days she missed. "You should too soon."
"I know," She sagged against the wall, a hand brushing through her hated short blonde hair, then sank down to sit on the floor. "I'll do it later, I don't feel like it right now."
"You've been remembering again." He knelt down in front of her, his hand gently cupping her cheek. "I wish you wouldn't do that."
"It's hard not to." She looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears. "I hate not being ourselves, and having to hide and…just so many things Ron I can't stand it. I can't stop thinking that it's all my fault, if I hadn't broken his wand…"
"Hermione…"
I miss him Ron." She whispered, a trail of tears running down her cheeks. "I miss him so much."
"I know, I do too." He let her face go and sat back and took her hands in his. "That's all the more reason not to blame ourselves, Harry would hate it."
She nodded and let one of his hands go, then wiped her face on a sleeve. "Where's Neville?"
He looked at her nervously, shifting away slightly. "You're not going to like it much."
"He didn't!"
"You can't blame him Hermione, they're his parent's." She opened her mouth to argue, but he quieted her with a look. "He was safe, he took polyjuice potion and used that hair he stole from his great uncle's brush."
"But Ron…they are still watching his parents, just waiting for him to show up, surely they must think it odd that "He" is visiting now when he never visited before. If he get's caught, they'll kill him…after giving him Veritaserum so he tells them where we are."
"Actually…" Ron hesitated "That won't be a problem."
Hermione looked at him suspiciously, fairly sure she knew what he meant. "You don't mean…"
"Yeah, he did."
"And you didn't stop him?" She glared angrily.
"I tried! Of course I did, but he had already taken it before he told me where he was going. What was I supposed to do, make him vomit it up?"
Hermione buried her face in her hands, once again, guilt crept over her…the potion had been her idea. They had known from the start that they didn't dare be out of touch with the wizarding world, they needed to occasionally return to what used to be Diagon Alley to buy the Daily Prophet. Even heavily disguised, there was a chance they could be caught, that their real identities would be exposed. If they were caught and forced to take Veritaserum, it wouldn't just be their death, but the death of all three.
Veritaserum and Venenumserum…two potions that were innocuous apart, but taken within forty-eight hours of one another would kill within seconds. But it wasn't meant to be taken like this, not so Neville could be careless with his own life, yet protect them at the same time. Her idea had seemed like a brilliant solution, they could do what needed to be done, and be protected at the same time. It didn't seem so brilliant now.
"Of course not." Hermione sighed deeply and put her hands in her lap. "If he comes back alive, I'm going to kill him."
"You do that." Ron picked her hands up and gave them a tight squeeze. "Now, you want to help me wash this goo out of my hair before it all falls out? I'd look horrible bald."
Hermione smiled, barely a shadow of the dazzling smiles of the past, but it was beautiful just the same. "At least you wouldn't have to dye it anymore."
Ron winked and pulled her to her feet. "I'll pass thanks."
Neville Longbottom clung tightly to his mothers hand, he only had a short time left, soon the polyjuice potion would be wearing off and he needed to be back on the street before it did. If his true identity was revealed here, he was a dead man.
Sometimes, he wondered why he still came. His parent's hadn't recognized him when he was himself, there was no way they would recognize him now that he was pretending to be his great uncle Algie Longbottom. He couldn't bring himself to leave them alone now that his Grandmother was dead, not here in this sterile white room with nothing but strangers to care for them. Even though it was so dangerous, he had to come. When he was being honest with himself, he had to admit that it wasn't just his parents that brought him here. It was her, the girl on the other side of the curtain, though he dare not even acknowledge that he knew her.
Ginny Weasley had been one of his best friends. They had been through so much together, Dumbledore's army, the raid on the ministry, the horrible battle of Hogwarts. He blamed himself for her being here, if he had been successful…if he hadn't missed when he tried to kill the snake…none of them would be in this mess.
"Harry…" Her voice, weak and delicate, called out from the other side of the curtain. So unlike the Ginny Weasley that he knew. "Where's Harry?"
"Harry's gone Ginny."
The gentle voice of her brother George answered in soothing tones, even though it couldn't reach her, nothing could reach inside Ginny Weasley's madness. Ginny refused to accept that Harry Potter was dead, and it was this refusal that had allowed her early release from Azkaban. Voldemort had learned from one of the Slytherins that the girl loved Harry Potter. And so, he wanted her alive, he wanted her to suffer, and because she was a Weasley, he wanted the remaining members of her family to watch her suffer so they would suffer themselves. In Azkaban her ranting had become too disruptive, the others had begun to question …what if she was right, what if Harry Potter had somehow survived? So, he had ordered her released, and her brother released along with her.
"He's not gone." Ginny responded vehemently, a trace of the old fire flaring, feeble though it was. "I saw him, I saw his face… in the great hall just before mum…"
She began to sob, great gasping sobs. A woman's shadow crossed into the curtain, her wand held aloft. "Mr. Weasley, you'll have to go now."
The other shadow nodded, then bent and kissed her forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow Ginny."
"Harry's alive George, I saw his head…" She whispered "We have to find him."
"Okay miss," The healers assistant spoke soothingly, then waved her wand. "You rest now."
Neville watched the shadow walk away, then stood and kissed his mother, skirted the bed and kissed his father. He was out of time, in fact, he was cutting it close.
"Frank, Alice," He said, adding 'Mum, Dad' under his breath. "I don't know when I can come back, but I'll try to come soon."
When he emerged from the curtain, the ward was deserted. Outside the window, the healers assistant sat looking over a chart. He knew it was taking an enormous risk, but he couldn't help himself. He stepped to the side of Ginny's bed. She was so pale, skeletal and wasted. Even her bright red hair was dull and lifeless. He bent down and kissed her cheek then he whispered in her ear.
"I miss you Ginny."
Ginny jerked a little, her eyes slit open slightly. "Neville…"
Neville glanced quickly at the door. "No, I'm not Neville…I'm…" He tried to think quickly of a name, then gave the first name that came to mind, the name of a person he knew had been turned to Voldemort's side. "Seamus Finnegan"
"You have to find Harry, I saw his head, but his body was gone."
Neville glanced at his watch, his time was short, he didn't dare linger.
"I'm sorry Ginny, I have to go."
She gripped his hand hard, refusing to let him go.
"I saw him Neville, I saw his head, I saw him."
"Sir?" The assistant pushed through the door "Can I help you?"
Neville looked up, jerking his hand out of Ginny's and forcing his voice into the deeper tone that was more like his uncles. "Erm…no, she called out to me as I was passing…seems to think I am someone else."
"Oh, yes," The assistant smiled sympathetically "The poor thing, she was in that horrible battle at Hogwarts. Of course it was very sad. So many bought into Dumbledore's propaganda about Potter being "the Chosen One." She ended on a sarcastic tone, making it very obvious what she believed.
Neville nodded and began for the door, a sick feeling in his stomach. His time was short now, he would be very lucky to make it to the alley before his transformation...but that wasn't what had his nerves on end. He brushed briskly past the woman, his teeth grinding.
"Have a good day." She called to his retreating back.
Neville gave her a half wave, then pulled open the door for the stairs. The skin of his fingers began to bubble and he looked at them in horror, there was no way he was going to make it out in time. He pulled the collar of his cloak up high over his face, hoping his muggle disguise might be good enough to get him past the front desk. He was fully transformed by the time he hit the ground floor and he pulled his hat down low over his face. Despite the shoulder length blonde hair, his face was too recognizable. Luck was with him, the waiting room was crowded and he pushed his way through to the street, holding his breath the entire way. The air was cool on his face when he pushed free of the building, then quickly darted into the alley, pulled out his wand and apparated away.
"Neville!" Hermione sank into a chair, her heart pounding in her chest. Sometimes, she couldn't believe how foolish men could be, how reckless men could be. "What were you thinking?"
"Were you thinking?" Ron glared at him, just as incredulous. It took a lot to anger Ron Weasley these days, but after seeing his best mate dead on the ground, taking stupid risks was the quickest way to go about it.
"Would you two relax, nothing happened." Neville threw himself into a chair and brushed his long hair out of his eyes.
"Okay, that's it." Hermione shook her head angrily "No more hospital trips, I mean it."
"Hermione, I'm a big boy, I can handle myself." Neville glared up at her. "If I have to, I'll make the potions myself."
"Good luck with that," Ron snickered "You barely scraped an Acceptable in your OWLS."
"Neville you can't, you just can't." Hermione looked at him pleadingly. "You're too careless, what ever happened to the Neville who tried to stop us from breaking rules?"
"What happened to the Hermione who refused to break rules?" Neville countered "I don't see you marching into the Ministry to hand yourself over to Umbridge."
"That's different."
"How so?"
"Look, this argument is pointless." Ron broke in, the voice of reason. "None of us are the same people we were ten years ago. Holy hell, we were little kids then."
He looked back and forth between Hermione and Neville and they each nodded in agreement.
"Can we please get past this to what the real issue is?" Neville had a look of excitement in his eyes, it was rare that any of them got excited about anything anymore, so much of their lives was strictly about survival.
"Alright," Ron reluctantly sat on the sofa across from Neville. "So you think there's something to Ginny's ramblings…why?"
Hermione took the seat next to Ron, then pulled his hand into her lap. It was always difficult for Ron when Neville came back from St. Mungo's with news about Ginny…or rather non-news about Ginny. The Weasley's had been such a tight knit family, tighter than most even, and it tore him up having to be away from them…particularly when he knew they needed him by their side.
"She knew my voice Ron, even when I told her I was someone else. If she was as deep into madness as they claim she is, do you really think she would recognize a voice so easily that she hasn't heard in three years?"
"But you and Ginny were so close," Hermione began "Surely…"
"I was whispering Hermione."
"Okay, so say that we allow for this, that maybe she isn't as mad as they think she is." Ron looked as though he desperately wanted to believe it, but didn't dare hope. "That doesn't mean that what she says is true. We all saw Harry's body Neville, we saw him dead in the grass."
"Then why did you go to look for him?"
"I don't know." Ron admitted "I just thought…maybe we were wrong, but we weren't wrong. We didn't find him and he hasn't been seen or heard from in three years. That's not like Harry."
"Neville," Hermione wiped at her face "We saw the pictures from that night, of Voldemort…"
"I know," Neville leaned forward, his eyes locked intensely into hers. "But Hermione, Ginny said that she saw his head, just his head. She never once said that she saw his body. What if he was under his invisibility cloak and wasn't able to come out of it all the way before he was stopped?"
Ron looked sideways at Hermione "We never did find his cloak, Harry always kept his cloak with him."
"It was probably stuffed down his robes like always. But…"
Hermione had the look of someone who wanted to believe, but was scared to dare to. It was something Ron could understand only too well. Harry Potter was his best mate, losing him was as shattering as losing Fred, as learning that his parent's were dead and that Percy was locked away in Azkaban for the rest of his life.
Hermione rose from the chair suddenly, going to a cabinet. She dug for a long time, then triumphantly pulled an old tattered Daily Prophet from the stack. Her eyes were full of tears when she lifted it.
"Look Ron, look at the front of his robes."
He took the paper from her, closely examining the photo. Harry's robes were badly torn down the front, very obviously, these robes would have concealed nothing.
"But they could have torn them, when they were…" Ron choked off.
"They could have." She allowed, sinking back onto the sofa next to him.
"Hagrid," Neville looked up at them "While we were all being pushed into the castle, Hagrid yelled out 'Where's Harry?'
"Voldemort could have concealed his body somewhere, or transfigured it or something…" Hermione argued "So we couldn't recover it and give him a proper burial."
"But what if Harry was under his cloak?" Neville's hands were clenched together tightly. There had been something in Ginny's voice, something that told him that her words were no delusion. "Remember, when the centaurs joined the fight and all those other wizards came … when I messed up…"
Neville fought off the memory of the sword of Godric Gryffindor, barely grazing the head of Voldemort's snake.
"There was all that confusion, people were running about like mad, falling all over each other…"
Ron and Hermione looked at one another. They knew Harry Potter as well as they knew themselves, it wasn't hard to guess what he would have done. He would have pulled out his cloak, biding his time until the perfect moment to reveal himself. What if, when that moment came, Voldemort had somehow stopped him? What if Harry was alive somewhere?
"We can't know for sure," Ron said at last "Not without talking to Ginny. She's the only person who claims to have seen him."
"I can do it, next time I visit my parents."
"No," Hermione shook her head "From what you've said, they have her heavily sedated. We need to talk to her when she's clear, when she can completely remember."
"That means getting her out of St. Mungo's."
"Your brother," Neville looked up at them nervously "George has control over her medical decisions from the looks of it."
"He's the only one who can take her out of there then." Ron smiled a little "All we have to do is get a message to him."
"No, It won't be that easy." Neville shook his head "George is the one who put her in there, he believes that she is mad. He'll never take her out of there."
Ron's eyes narrowed angrily and he started out of his chair. "He'll let her out, I'll…"
"Ron, I'm sure he's doing what he thinks is best for her." Hermione put a hand on his arm. "I mean…it's George, he would never do something like that lightly. Not George."
"Hermione's right," Neville looked Ron back down into his chair. "Ron, you haven't seen Ginny. It isn't just her belief that Harry is alive…she spent two years with the dementors, two years with them messing with her head. The only reason they let her out was because Voldemort was afraid her ranting about Harry still being alive would rally the other prisoners to fight."
Hermione gasped "She's lucky to be alive."
"She's a Weasley who loved Harry Potter." Ron said bitterly "The son-of-a-bitch wants her to suffer. It's exactly the sort of thing Harry was trying to protect her from when he broke things off with her after Dumbledore was killed…and I gave him hell for it."
Neville gave him a weak smile "You can apologize for it when you see him again."
Hermione and Ron looked at him, still not ready to jump on ship with the idea of Harry being alive, but willing to take the first step to finding out just the same.
"If we can't get George's help, it's going to mean taking her out of there ourselves." Hermione sighed deeply and closed her eyes, not thrilled with the idea of doing something behind George's back. "There's only one way we are going to be able to do that."
Ron nodded "I have to pretend to be George and check her out."
"You?" Neville looked at Ron questioningly "I know the hospital better than you, and the staff."
"But I know George, I can even forge his signature."
"Let's just take this a step at a time," Hermione broke in "Before we worry about who will be George, let's worry about how to be George. We need to get some of his hair for the polyjuice potion, which means a trip to Diagon Alley."
She would never call it Knockturn Alley.
"I'll do it." Neville spoke up, not out of bravery, but because it was his turn. "I'll wander in and ask to use a bathroom maybe he'll have a brush laying around."
"We'll need to start watching St. Mungo's tomorrow, get an idea of the time of day he usually visit's so we don't cross paths when we do this."
The three couldn't help smiling a little as they looked around at each other. There was no proof that Harry Potter was still alive, there was every chance that this plan would go horribly awry at some point and they would all end up in Voldemort's hands. Even knowing that, they couldn't help feeling a surge of elation.
After three years of dormancy, they were proactive again.
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Chapter Three Preview
George and Luna have a visitor, and a discovery leads to a heartbreaking confrontation.
