Title : Ars Virgarum - De Familia et Oscibus
Authors: DracoCrescendo & Nuin
Pairing : Overall gen - implied pairings may occur.
Rating : Overall R/NC-17
Warnings : War-fic, dark stuff, angst.
Wordcount : this chapter : 6649 - total wordcount : 9712
Disclaimer
: All HP characters and names are copyright of JK Rowling. We use them
for our own pleasure, we do not make money out of this.
Feedback : Oh yes, hit us harder!
Beta : Essayel & Flossoyromaniac
Author notes : Ars Virgarum Art of the Wands; De Familia et Oscibus Of Family and Owls.
Chapter 1 - De Familia et Oscibus
"Dear Harry,
How are you holding up there? I know it's only been a few days since we've said our goodbyes at the train station, but I've been worried about you, and Ron too, of course. I have the feeling things have really changed in a short amount of time. Please tell me I'm mistaken. I wouldn't know what to do without my best two best friends right now. I'm looking forward to seeing you on Bill and Fleur's wedding.
I have attached an article from the Daily Prophet as I know you don't get it there, in Little Whinging. It's about Dumbledore. After all the lies they've published about the school, him, you and Voldemort, they've finally done something good.
Love,
Hermione."
Daily Prophet - June 1997
In Memoriam Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
Last June, the man who's been said to be the greatest Headmaster of Hogwarts of all times has been taken away from the Wizarding World at the age of 157. He began his career as a Transfigurations professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where he took the position as Headmaster after Armando Dippet resigned. Albus Dumbledore allowed any magical students into his school as he believed they should all have the right to learn about what's been given them at birth.
He's also known for defeating one of the greatest Dark Wizards alive, Grindelwald, in 1945; and for discovering the twelve uses of dragon blood. He was rewarded with an Order of Merlin First Class and Grand Sorcerer; and held both titles of Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.
Albus Dumbledore was one of the greatest wizards of all times. He will be sadly missed by all.
Requesciat In Pacem.
"Hermione,
I'm alright, I suppose. I've been thinking a lot actually. I'm sorry about the ride home, I didn't mean to react like that. It was just stress, I guess. We're going to need each other, so let's not think about the bad stuff. I'm looking forward to seeing you, too. I haven't asked my relatives yet, but I'll be there no matter what. Promise.
Yeah, you're right, Hermione. They did something good for Dumbledore after all.
Harry.
Harry could remember the sight of the bars in front of his bedroom window like it was yesterday, but luckily for him, they had long since been removed. The weather was nice outside, but still, Harry chose to remain inside. Surprisingly, ever since he came back from Hogwarts, the Dursleys had relatively left him alone. They didn't saddle him up with a list of chores, nor did Dudley pester him like he used to. They seemed to avoid him for some reason. Harry couldn't have wished for anything better, especially now. He didn't quite feel like talking about what had happened the past school year, not that his relatives would bother to ask anyway.
Weeks had passed fairly quickly so far, but now time seemed to crawl. It was only a short while before he would move away from his relatives forever. He was looking forward to moving out, but then he remembered the years he had spent in this house. Even if his relatives had treated him like shite, Dumbledore had made sure that Harry would always be safe here, thanks to his mother's sacrifice and love. Part of him wanted desperately to hold on to that protection, but he was becoming seventeen soon and it was simply time to move on. Thus McGonagall would pick him up on the night of his birthday to take him to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, but before that happened, there was still Bill and Fleur's wedding.
Harry liked to think he was looking forward to it, and maybe in some way he was, but it just seemed to put more pressure on him somehow and he couldn't pretend he liked the idea of that. He hadn't even asked Uncle Vernon if he was allowed to attend the wedding, but he was sure they had spotted the personal invitation he had left on the kitchen counter. And truthfully, they would be glad to get rid of him for an entire day. Harry actually wondered what had made them to back off like that. Was there something they were suddenly afraid of...?
"Dear Harry,
This owl is actually pretty pointless, so you can look at it as another greeting with a Daily Prophet article attached. I'm sure you'll be interested to know that Hogwarts will reopen in September after all.
Love,
Hermione."
Daily Prophet - July 5th 1997
Hogwarts reopens in September
It is rumoured that Albus Dumbledore, late Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was murdered by followers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but so far, no one has been able to confirm or deny this statement. Does this mean that Hogwarts is no longer safe for students? How many parents will allow their children to return to school after the tragedy that has taken place mere weeks ago?
After the loss of Albus Dumbledore, it was almost certain that the school would not be reopened for the students next year. Now, the Board of Governors has decided that Hogwarts is allowed to reopen in September, but under certain circumstances, which have not been made public knowledge. Minerva McGonagall, new Headmistress of the school, was not available for comments.
"Dearest Draco,
(I hope that my letter finds you well, hopefully
you aren't hurt or injured. - scratched out)
How are you? Where are you? Are you safe? Please, tell me that you're safe, I couldn't stand it, if something had happened to you.
You won't be coming back to Hogwarts this year, will you? I didn't think so, either. It would be too dangerous for you. Mother and Father have agreed that I should return to keep up the façade of being a normal student. I would much rather be by your side. Are you sure you're safe?
With all my love,
Pansy."
Draco crumpled the parchment in his hand with a sigh, before throwing it into the fireplace. He didn't have the heart to reply, nor did he think it would be very safe. Pansy should not know his current location. In fact, she shouldn't know anything about him anymore. He watched the flames lick at the letter, devouring it with their orange-red tongues. Soon, there would be no trace left of it. Maybe that was for the best. Snape watched silently as Draco tossed the letter into the flames, nodding with consent of the action. The girl shouldn't be owling him at all, it would only cause unnecessary difficulties. His black eyes shifted to look at Draco.
"Never reply to any of her letters, Draco." He said solemnly.
"I know," Draco mumbled, not even bothering to look up.
"Good. It would only cause too many problems. We cannot allow our location to be known to others." Snape walked over to one of the many bookshelves that lined the walls of the living room and skimmed the books.
"I know." Draco repeated, stressing his words a little more this time.
Even though he was grateful to Snape for taking him in, he was slowly growing tired of the ever existing rules. There was nothing left he was allowed to do. He was supposed to sit there, keep his mouth shut and do what he was told. 'Bloody awesome.' he thought grimly to himself. Snape resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. Youth and their ever present need for breaking the rules. While he could condone it at school for the Slytherins, this was a matter of life and death. Did Draco really wish to be presented to the Dark Lord after his failure? Snape knew it would only be a matter of time, before it happened. But for now, they needed to keep a low profile.
"Do not take that tone with me, Draco," he sneered.
At that, Draco snapped his head up and glared at his former Potions professor. "I will take any bloody tone I bloody want," he snapped, "I appreciate what you've done for me, but I didn't ask for it."
Simply arching an eyebrow, Snape didn't answer. It wasn't time to tell Draco exactly why he was doing this, if it ever would be. But for now the brat was tethering on his nerves.
"Hn," he finally uttered.
Draco knew better than to try and start a discussion with Snape and under any other circumstance, he probably would have never tried. He'd seen Potter and Snape go at it for years and he knew better than to get on Snape's bad side. And now, he had snapped at him and expected the man to sneer back an answer, but instead, there was nothing. He could admit to himself that he was surprised, but he wouldn't let it show on his face. 'Showing emotions make you weak, Draco.' He remembered his father's words.
Slowly, he got up, turning back to watch the last bit of Pansy's letter being digested by the flames, before looking at Snape again.
"I'll be in my room." His voice was cool and calm as he walked away, but in reality, Draco didn't feel so calm after all.
Snape watched as Draco left the room and waited until the boy was out of his sight. Then waited a few more minutes, in case Draco had forgotten something and came back for it. Only then did he slowly raise his hand, the one he had made the vow with, and looked at it. He was trapped between warring powers, but then... when hadn't he been? All he could do now, was to fulfil his vow and wait.
"Dea... -Harry…
I just wanted to know how you're doing, the Dursleys aren't too harsh, are they? I hope that you're doing alright.
Harry, I'm still not over what you said. Why can't we be together? I don't care whether You-Know-Who might use me against you… he's already done it before. But you came for me. You saved me.
I'm going back to Hogwarts next year, but you probably knew that. Mum wouldn't hear of anything else. When Ron said that neither three of you would return, she nearly blew up. It was bad enough that the twins dropped out, she said. But you know how she is.
Bill is doing better, in case you wondered. We were allowed to take him home a couple of days ago and Mum has gone into overprotective mode. His scars are healing nicely, but they'll never go away. Much like Phlegm, she's still here too. And I doubt she'll go away, especially now that the day of the wedding is getting closer.
Hope to see you at the wedding…
Lo... - Ginny
P.S. (Hi Mate…Stop it Ron. - scratched out) Ron says hi."
"Ginny,
The Dursleys are kinda quiet, so I'm fine. Thanks.
There's not much to be said, Ginny. I will not take the bloody risk of you being used as a target. We were lucky down in that chamber, you almost died there. Next time, one of us could die we might not be so lucky. You'll be safer at Hogwarts than at home. I hope.
Glad to hear Bill is doing better, but you know you'll have to get used to having Fleur around. Gin, she's going to marry your brother.
I'll be there. Tell Ron I said hi back.
Harry."
Bill was grinning brightly with his arms wrapped around Fleur's waist as they walked toward the tables in the centre of the backyard. Ron followed, watching his brother and his wife with a small blush on his cheeks. It had been a long time since he had harboured a crush on Fleur and it was long gone, but he still couldn't help but blush when he saw her. Maybe it was just the air about her that made him act like that. Shrugging Ron sat down by one of the tables, right beside Harry and Hermione.
Hermione couldn't stop thinking about how happy Bill and Fleur looked. Of course, they were supposed to be happy, it was their wedding day, but then again there was a war going on. She heaved a sigh. Strange how one event could make people forget about all the bad things in the world, even if it only was for a little while. Hermione thought Fleur looked wonderful, she was wearing an azure blue dress which simply looked stunning on her. Making sure no one else noticed, she snuck a quick glance at Ron. 'Ah well. Maybe one day.'
Ron had the strange feeling that someone was watching him, even if it was just for a moment, and he turned his head around to look for the source. In the process he snuck a glance at Hermione and smiled, she was really pretty in her simple, but elegant dress. Quickly he looked away and continued his perusal of the guests, thankful that he, at least, wasn't wearing the same dress robes as he had worn at the Yule Ball in their fourth year. Finally his eyes landed back on Harry and he nudged him slightly in the side, shooting him a grin.
"Glad you could come, mate."
Harry smirked to himself when he saw Ron look at Hermione, even it was only for a second. When Ron nudged him, Harry grinned back at him.
"You're welcome. I didn't want to miss it anyway."
He was glad he was sitting between his best friends. If they would have put him next to Ginny, he would have felt really uncomfortable. He shot a glance at her. She was dressed in a cream-coloured gown and Harry couldn't help but think that she looked beautiful in it. With a shake of his head, he banned those thoughts from his mind. No, he had other things to worry about than girls.
Ron grinned. "Wouldn't have been the same without you."
Ron saw him look at Ginny and sighed. Things were still not all that well between them, especially after their letters to each other. He just hoped they wouldn't start snapping at each other today.
Suddenly Bill got up from his seat and held his hand out to Fleur, smiling wickedly as she took it. He pulled her out on the cleared part of the backyard, reserved for dancing and put his hand on her waist. It was time for the first dance. Slowly he began to move in tact with the music and twirled his bride around a couple of times. Fleur smiled at him, allowing herself to be twirled.
"If you ztep on my toez, Mr. Weazley, you shall be verrry lonely on your honeymoon night." She smirked.
"Why Mrs. Weasley." He mock gasped and kissed her lightly on the lips. "That the mere thought should cross my mind is breaking my heart."
Fleur rolled her eyes, but kissed him back anyway.
"I'm certain of that, and not just your 'eart." She playfully glanced down between both of their bodies, before cocking an elegant eyebrow. "Make zure it doesn't. I 'ave plans for you and your... friend."
Bill threw his head back and laughed heartily. "You, my dear, are a deviously wicked woman."
Then he looked around. Sighing softly at the sight of everyone still sitting down, he stopped dancing and released Fleur's waist, throwing out his arm toward the guests, he said in a raspy voice : "Oi! Start dancing everyone… this isn't a show!" Bill grinned. "We're not going to keep doing this alone, where's the fun in that?"
Harry watched as some guests were actually getting up and leading, or dragging in some cases, their partner onto the 'dance floor'. He almost didn't even dare to look in Ginny's direction, almost afraid that she would expect him to dance with her. He noticed Charlie casually walking by, flashing him a grin, before extending his hand to Ginny.
"Can this brother have a dance with his favourite sister?" He grinned.
At that moment, Harry couldn't be more relieved. He took a deep breath and relaxed slightly. Ginny looked at the hand stretched out to her, while it wasn't exactly the hand she wanted to grasp, she took it anyway.
"I'm your only sister, dimwit." She smiled and let herself be pulled up from her seat. "But that won't stop me from agreeing to dance with you."
Charlie shrugged. "Details, darling, details." With a grin, he twirled her around. "So what was with the sour face earlier? I know you don't like Fleur, but..." He quirked an eyebrow.
She frowned. "It was nothing really. Just thinking about some things." Ginny said and with a small smirk she stepped up onto his feet, like she had done when she had been younger and Charlie had tried to teach her how to dance. "Like old times?"
Charlie gave her an 'I-don't-believe-you'-look, but let it go anyway. This was not really the day to argue. He laughed when she stepped on his feet, before nodding. "Yeah, sure. Like old times."
Ginny smiled and settled against Charlie's body, her head resting sideways on his chest, which gave her a perfect view of where Harry was sitting with her brother and Hermione. They seemed deep in thought and weren't talking with each other like they usually were whenever they were at the same place.
Ron stared at his plate, his hands were clenched into fists on his knees and were shaking slightly. He shot small glances at Hermione, only to quickly look down at his plate again. He really wanted to ask if she wanted to dance… but what if she said no?
Harry watched Ron fidget and rolled his eyes, nudging his side. "Ask her, you idiot," he mumbled, "Go on."
His head shot up and Ron stared at Harry. "Harry." He whined softly. "What if she says no?" Looking nervously at Hermione, who was staring at the dancing couples, he sighed.
Harry looked at the ceiling and growled in frustration. "She won't, Ron." He hissed, "Listen to me, mate. If you don't ask her, then I just will."
Ron gulped and looked at Hermione again, slowly he stood up and walked around Harry to stand in front of her. He extended his hand to her and with a nervous smile he asked : "Would… you like to dance, H-Hermione?"
Hermione looked at the hand extended towards her, blinking, before looking up.
'YES! BLOODY HELL YES!' Her mind screamed, but she simply smiled, a small blush creeping onto her cheeks. "Yes, Ron, I'd love to dance with you." She slipped her hand in his, before getting up.
She glanced at Harry. "Aren't you going to dance, Harry?"
Harry shrugged. "I think I'll pass on this one. Maybe later."
Hermione nodded and allowed Ron to pull her along. He broke out into a brilliant smile and began pulling her gently toward the dance floor, then his mind froze. He was going to have to put his hand on her waist… How could he do that without blushing even more than he already was? With trembling fingers he settled his hand on her waist, just above her hip and began moving around to the music. Hermione suppressed a giggle, placing her free hand on his shoulder, letting the music guide their movements.
"About time you asked me to dance, Ron. I thought you never would."
'Well, that would be it for me.' Ron thought with a whimper. He was a goner and his face heated up to show just that.
"I… um… I… you look lovely!" He burst out in panic, not knowing what else to say.
'Brilliant, Ronald.' She thought with a giggle.
"Thank you," she smiled, "You don't look half bad yourself."
Slowly he began to relax, though he was still hyperaware of her touch on his shoulder. What was wrong with him? This was Hermione, the girl he'd know since he had been eleven years old, the girl he'd bickered with for year, the girl… he was in love with. Ron felt like hiding in his room for the rest of the day at that revelation, just to think it over and not embarrass himself in front of her.
He gave her a shaky smile. "Thank you, Hermione."
Hermione shifted a bit closer to him, enjoying the contact between their bodies. When the music changed, she was disappointed that this dance was already over. Ron blinked as she moved closer to him and he hesitantly wrapped his arms further around her. When the song ended, he didn't want to let go and keep swaying to the new beat, refusing to let the moment end or release her, now that he finally had her.
He took the chance and whispered boldly into her ear. "Another dance, Hermione?"
Hermione quirked an eyebrow, before a grin spread on her lips. "Most certainly."
Standing off to the side in her pale pink dress, Gabrielle watched the party with a smile. She wanted to dance to and she knew just who it was going to be. She hadn't spoke all that much with him, but she still owed him for saving her life all those years ago and she wanted to thank him.
She walked determinedly toward her intended dance partner and looked at him. "'Allo, 'Arry, would you care to danze wiz me?"
Harry turned around on his chair, watching the girl with a frown. Who was...? Then it hit him. Fleur's little sister. She had grown a bit since he had last seen her and he could already tell she was going to grow up to be beautiful just like her sister. He swallowed.
"Gabrielle! Didn't recognise you there." He gave an uncomfortable smile, "I'm sorry, but I'm not much of a dancer really..."
"Nonzense, 'Arry." She smiled and took his hand. "Nozzing, a good teacher cannot 'elp wiz." Gabrielle pulled him up from his seat and he towered over her, making her crane her neck to look at him. "Juz one danze, 'Arry."
"Alright then, Gabrielle," he sighed, "One dance."
He let the girl pull her to where the others were dancing. Harry was well aware of the fact that Hermione was giggling and that Ron was trying not to burst with laughter. He twirled the little Delacour girl around a few times, using the opportunity to stand still and not do anything clumsy. 'Very safe. God knows I'd step on her toes or something.'
A small
growl escaped her lips as she saw the Mini-Phlegm pull Harry onto the
dance floor. Ginny glared at Gabrielle's back, while Harry was
standing still and twirling the smaller girl around. What was it with
the Delacour women and moving in on the men she knew? Her hands
clenched into fists and her arms were held tightly against her sides.
Hermione grinned at Harry dancing with Fleur's little sister, but
noticed Ginny from the corner of her eye. She tapped Ron on the
shoulder and leaned in a little.
"Don't look, but check out Ginny when we turn." She whispered.
Ron nodded slowly and twirled them both around, giving him the opportunity to look at his little sister. Then he wished he hadn't. Ginny was fuming, silently. That was not a good sign at all, not when Ginny took after their mother in so many ways. Molly Weasley might yell at her children over almost anything, but if she was silent… then that would just be the quiet before the storm hit with the force of a hurricane.
"This is not good." He muttered.
Harry couldn't be too happy when the song ended. He smiled at Gabrielle and gave a little bow.
"Thank you, Miss Delacour," he grinned, "It was a lovely dance."
Gabrielle smiled at Harry and curtseyed. "Non, zank you, 'Arry. For ze danze and for zaving my life in ze lake."
She moved in and hugged him tightly, before skipping off to her parents.
"Uhm right," Harry mumbled, watching her skip off, before returning to his seat.
Fleur pinched Bill's shoulder with a frown when the song ended, before making an almost invisible gesture at Ginny. "Your zister zeems to be upset about zomethin'."
Bill winced as his wife pinched him on the shoulder, hard. But he looked at Ginny anyway and grimaced. "She doesn't look too happy, no. Maybe I should have a little chat with her."
Fleur nodded. He let go of her, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek and began moving toward Ginny.
"Zat zeems like a good idea. I'll go dance wiz one of your brothers for a while." She grinned, before walking over to the trio sitting back at the table. "'Ermione," she smiled, "You don't mind if I'd were to zteal your dance partner, would you?"
Hermione looked at Ron, before giving a light shrug. "No, not really. It's your wedding after all." She giggled.
Fleur took a hold of Ron's elbow. "Come on, Caznova, let's zee if you dance better zan my huzband. I'm zure you won't try to grope my arze."
Ron gulped and stammered. "But... I… Hermione," then nodded jerkily when he saw Hermione giggle and took Fleur's hand, keeping his eyes firmly on her chin, too nervous to look her in the eyes. Hermione watched Ron being dragged off. She was grinning, but her expression darkened when she turned back to Harry.
"You didn't see Ginny looking at you, did you?" she softly asked, "When you were dancing with Gabrielle?"
Harry frowned. "No... Should I have?"
"Harry, if eyes could kill, Gabrielle would have been killed a million times."
"Come on, Hermione. It's Gabrielle. She's what? Eleven years old? What harm could that do?" He rolled his eyes. "Besides, we broke up, remember?"
"Still, Harry." She sighed. "Ginny's had a crush on you for years, even if she stopped showing it. And now that she finally had you, it was already over again between the two of you."
"I already said that it just can't be with the war. I've got to..." He started to protest, but Hermione put her hand over his mouth.
"Don't tell me, Harry. Tell Ginny." She whispered.
Ginny was still standing off to the side when a hand landed on her shoulder, she whirled around and looked into smiling blue eyes.
"Hey, Bill." She said softly.
"Hey, yourself, Gin-Gin. Care to dance with your old decrepit brother?" He grinned and offered his arm, waiting for her to take it. She did and he pulled her out on the floor to a slow song.
"You're not old, Bill or decrepit. At the most you're getting a little on in your years." She smirked.
Bill laughed and spun her around. "So how are you doing? I saw you were watching the dance floor rather closely. Any specific reason?"
"No." Ginny answered shortly.
Arching an eyebrow, he sighed. This would probably not end well.
"Oh? And it didn't have anything to do with Harry dancing with Gabrielle, would it?" This time Ginny glared at him fiercely and he knew, he had hit a nerve. "Ginny, it's not like Harry has any feelings for Gabrielle, she's eleven years old."
"Oh, he'll dance with a kid, but he won't dance with me." She scowled.
"Then ask him to dance. It's not the Middle Ages, where you have to wait for a lad to ask you." Bill rolled his eyes and stopped dancing. "Go ask him." And with that he pushed her toward where Harry and Hermione were talking.
"Hey!" She protested as Bill pushed her forward. Grumbling slightly she stopped in front of Harry and took a deep breath. "Harry? Would you like to dance?"
"Uhm..." Harry shot a look at Hermione for help, but received a stern glare in return. "Sure."
He offered his arm and led her towards the dance floor, lightly putting his hand on her waist and taking one of her hands in his. Ginny followed his lead and allowed him to move them around, this was where she had wanted to be all day. As close to Harry as possible.
Harry couldn't bear to look at her. He was uncomfortable. He hated dancing, he was awful at it and now he was dancing with his former girlfriend. Harry would have honestly preferred to be locked up in his tiny cupboard at the Dursleys right now, at least he could hide in there.
"Ginny, I..." He started, but then fell silent again.
She looked up at him and tilted her head.
"What, Harry? Is it really so bad... dancing with me?" Ginny said softly when she noticed his discomfort.
"No," he sighed, "It's not the dancing. It's just... Ginny, we need to talk."
Frowning, she nodded. "Yeah, I thought you would say that."
"You don't think we should talk then?" He looked at her, starting to let go of her.
"I'm just sure that I won't like, what we're going to talk about." She sighed. "But we have to do it at some point… don't we?"
"Do you think I like doing this?" He frowned, "Do you think I enjoy this?"
"Not any more than I do." Ginny looked him straight in the eyes, her hands still holding onto his shoulders. "Lets take this somewhere else. I don't want to ruin the mood for the others, if this is heading where I think it is. Please?"
"Yeah, seems like a good idea. Lead the way." He stared right back at her.
"Alright," she said and took his hand, leading him into the house and further into the living room.
Sitting down, she let go of his hand. Harry followed her, but didn't sit down immediately. He started to pace, running a hand through his hair with a sigh.
Ginny looked at him with an ever growing sense of unease. "So…" She paused, not really knowing what to say.
Harry stopped pacing and turned to look at her. "Why were you so angry with me for dancing with Gabrielle?" he blurted out. He blinked, not knowing where that had come from. 'Well, we have to start somewhere, don't we?'
She reared back, staring at him, then frowned. "You were dancing with her, the Mini-Phlegm. You didn't even look once at me or thought about that I would have liked to have to first dance with you."
"How was I supposed to know?" Harry bit back, "We are not exactly on good terms right now and second, I can't read minds. How am I supposed to know what you think and want? You could've just asked me like you did just now."
"Well… ugh… men. You broke up with me because of a self-sacrificing, noble and stupid reason. But you didn't think I would just stop having a crush on you, did you? If so, then you're really dense. Jealousy, Harry. It's called jealousy," Ginny growled, tears running down her cheeks.
"Jealous of an eleven-year-old?" He shook his head, "Ginny, please. What are you trying to accomplish? Trying to make me feel guilty because I broke up with you? You make it sound like it's my fault that I have this stupid scar on my head? I didn't break up with you because I didn't want to be with you anymore..."
Wiping her face with the back of her hand, she looked at him. "I'm not trying to make you feel guilty. And it definitely doesn't have something to do with your scar. You broke up with me because you're afraid that You-Know-Who will use me against you. Well, I just don't want accept that. I don't care! I just want to be with you."
Harry sighed and sat down next to her. "Ginny, we just can't. Voldemort has done it once and he'll do it again. I don't want that to happen. We were lucky last time to get out alive. I will not risk your life. Ron would never forgive me. I would never forgive myself. I do care, Ginny, but we just can't."
Her shoulders slumped. "But what if he didn't find out?" She whispered. "If we kept it a secret? People already know that we broke up. Couldn't we do that?"
"Still," he shook his head. "He could get in my mind should he want to. It's not safe."
She sighed. "I hate him. I wish he'd just disappear forever."
"Next time you see him, tell him." Harry muttered, leaning his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands.
Against the sombre mood, she couldn't help but giggle softly. "But there's no chance of us being together?" Ginny finally said after a while.
"Not right now." He whispered.
Nodding slowly, she looked at him. "But afterwards… maybe?"
Harry nodded, quietly. He didn't want to make any promises he might not be able to keep. 'If I even get out alive.' Smiling slightly, Ginny leaned in close and kissed his cheek.
"I… can live with that." She got up and started heading toward the backyard and the reception party. "We should get back, before anyone begins to miss us…"
"I'll be right there," he nodded, "I just need a few minutes by myself."
He looked at her, gesturing it was alright for her to go back outside. Nodding, Ginny walked out of the room and joined the others, just in time to see the twins being scolded by their mother for trying to sneak in some of their "special brand" fireworks. Harry watched her leave, heaving a sigh. He didn't want to think about the war, certainly not now, the talking with Ginny had brought the fear back to the surface.
"Not now." He mumbled to himself, "Not today."
He remained in the living room for another few minutes. After that, he finally got up and forced a small smile on his face, before going back outside to join the others again.
Screams filled the nocturnal air when the inhabitants of a small village in St. Helens ran around in panic. The Dark Mark sparkled a poisonous green against the ink black sky. Several houses were on fire, but none of the people even made an attempt to douse the flames. They were too frightened of the black-cloaked figures with their white masks. Flashes of red and green illuminated the dark alleys and bodies fell to the ground with soft thuds, horrified expressions immortalised on their faces forever.
Neither women nor children were spared. Men were murdered without a second thought, women were raped while children watched and cried. Blood dripped onto the floor, even ran down the walls whenever some sick mind had nailed a favourite pet to the wall and left it there to die of exsanguinations.
"Tie him to the table," a voice hissed, eager with pleasure.
A boy, who could have been no older than nine or ten years old, kicked and screamed as two Death Eaters pushed him on his back onto the kitchen table, tying his hands and feet to the table's legs. The boy tried everything he could to get loose. He tried to bite, to yell, to kick, to spit... But all in vain, as he was safely secured to the wooden tabletop.
"He's a tough one, this one." The same voice cackled again, "Let's see how long he keeps this up if we kill his family before his very eyes." There was a pause. "Bring in his father!" A mumble came. "If we've already killed him, then bring in his mother and sister, you fool!"
A small, fragile-looking woman in her early thirties was brought in while tears streamed down her face. There was a bruise on her left cheek, the skin starting to colour black. Her hands had been tied behind her back and she was being shoved forward a few metres at the time, as she kept trying to look over her shoulder at her daughter who was being brought in behind her. With a kick of a dragon-leather boot, the woman was on her hands and knees, one hand straying to her hip, where she had been hit.
"Mum!" The boy yelled.
There was a sharp slap, the sound of skin against skin, and everything went quiet for a moment as if everyone held their breath. The boy bit back the tears that threatened to leak from his eyes, before turning his head to look at his younger sister. She sniffled and clutched a rag doll tightly to her chest. Whether they had tied her hands or not, would not have made much of a difference as she was barely five years old and no danger to escape at all.
"Eleanor," the boy whispered, nodding slowly, "It's going to be alright."
The little girl nodded and sniffed, clutching her doll even harder.
"How touching," Voldemort sneered, "but unfortunately, you are mistaken." He made a gesture at the mother. "Rape her and make sure she screams. My dear Bella, make him watch."
There was screaming again as the woman was pulled to her feet and slammed into the wall. The clothes were literally torn off her body while her hands were held tightly over her head. The man in the cloak was tall and stockily built. There was a rustling sound of robes being arranged, before the woman's mouth opened in a silent scream and her eyes were crunched shut.
Two pale, slender hands cupped the boy's face, but he managed to get at least one good bite into one of the fingers. There was a slight hiss before he was backhanded across the face, before the hands fell back into place on his cheeks, nails digging into the skin as his head was held into place so the boy had no other choice than to watch his mother being raped by a grunting Death Eater.
Suddenly, there was a long strange hissing sound. The boy's eyes widened at as he noticed, from the corner of his eye, a snake sliding it's way over to where another cloaked figure was holding his little sister. The girl had already noticed it herself and had began to sob softly again.
"Don't worry, love," a low voice cooed at the girl, "In two minutes it's all over."
The serpent pricked its tongue at the skin, taking in the scent, before sinking its poisonous fangs into the vein. The girl whimpered as it only felt as a small sting, but as soon as the poison hit her bloodstream, she began to shiver, pearly drops of sweat forming on her forehead.
"She's as good as dead, boy." Voldemort cackled, "There is nothing to be done against the poison. In two minutes, she'll be nothing but a convulsing little corpse. But you won't be around to see that anymore."
The boy wrung his head out of Bellatrix' grip, forcing himself to take a look at the monster that was killing his family for his own sick pleasure. His eyes gleamed with deep hatred, tears of sorrow burning behind the irises. The metallic flash of a blade was the last thing he saw before everything went black.
Harry woke up with a start and a hoarse shout. He was breathing rapidly and the sweat was running down his temples and spine. He blindly reached for his glasses on the bedside table, slipping them on. It took him several minutes to realise that McGonagall was sitting next to him on the edge of his bed, one of her hands resting on his shoulder. Harry stared at her, blinking, but still not able to speak.
"It is time." She whispered.
He numbly nodded, before starting to get out of bed to get ready to leave the Dursley's house for once and for all.
