Prisoner of War
Mature
Summary: Curiosity gets the better of eighteen-year-old Ginny as she tries to prove a point to her older brothers and disappears in Knockturn Alley. After a stunning spell the young Weasley finds herself suffering from the horrors of being a Prisoner of War. While Harry refuses to believe that she may be dead, Ginny turns to an unlikely source of help at Malfoy Manor.
Warning: Although allusion is made regarding the horrifying treatment toward female prisoners of war, this story does not contain explicit descriptions of sexual mistreatment.
Chapter One: Scarlet And GoldThe dark, shabby pub was smoky from the abundant number of lit pipes and the large fire that roared in the fireplace. Turning a bright emerald green, the flames roared to life and a soot-covered man stepped forth only to be lost in the crowd of witches and wizards who had stopped by the famous inn. Amid the hum of chatter, a group of six elderly witches were engaged in a lively conversation with the bald and hunch-backed landlord.
Hidden in the corner of a small room, sat a petite, young witch engulfed by her cloak. Her hair had been hastily pulled into a loose ponytail and several strands of vibrant red fell softly against her pale face. Her eyes a chocolate-brown colour and ordinarily sparkling with mischief were concealed as she kept her head down, trying not to draw attention to herself. Her elbows rested on the dark oak table in a manner that would have caused her mother to scold her for hours, as she read the paper and waited for her boyfriend of two years to turn up.
Despite the growing noise around her, the teenage redhead seemed to have shut out any possible disturbances. Her eyes were bright with tears that she was holding back and refusing to shed, and a lump had risen in her throat. She was not going to let Riddle or those cowards in white masks make her cry, despite what had happened. She had shed far too many tears because of them; enough to last a lifetime in just one single year. She was not going to let them violently mess with her heart and mind, and throw her emotions around like a Quaffle anymore.
Her hands had whitened as they gripped onto the glass of Fire Whiskey in front of her. She had been nursing that very drink for the last half an hour as she stared down at the day's copy of the Daily Prophet.
The Wizarding daily newspaper very rarely carried any positive news now. Something to celebrate, or even something just trivial and light-hearted were scarce items. As the war continued to rage across Britain and into the rest of the world with the latest Death Eater attacks reported in Perth, Australia; the articles on celebrities' marriages or affairs and sporting successes were gone. Now in their place were articles on laws for individual protection, cancelled and terrorised sporting events, and reports of death and destruction.
After four years, the Wizarding world seemed no closer to defeating Tom Riddle, or ridding the world of Death Eaters. For an evil dictator, Riddle was as much a coward as his followers that hid behind masks. He hardly lifted his wand and preferred to use intimidation and coercion instead of direct action himself. Riddle would stay in the background and give orders, letting the Death Eaters do his dirty work and making it almost impossible to destroy him. Hermione had suggested that it was because he wasn't going to put himself in danger and risk being banished from his body again until he knew the exact wording of the prophecy, thus making him scared to face Harry.
Riddle had instead chosen to give his Death Eaters a free hand to cripple his enemies in any way they wished. This had lead to the number of Death Eaters swelling quicker than their own. After all, as the ensconced young witch knew only too well, Tom had always been able to flatter people and convince them to do what he needed. Rumours were rife about Death Eater atrocities while the Dark Mark was often seen hanging over homes throughout the country. Deep down they all knew, due to their spies, that they were not just rumours.
Ginny Weasley knocked back the dregs of the amber liquid that remained in the glass and looked over towards the bar. "Can I take another glass of Fire Whiskey, please Tom?"
"Of course," he said as he lowered his head into a slight bow and poured another glass of Fire Whiskey from a large red bottle. "But I thought you were just passing through on your way to meet young Mr Potter or to go to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes."
She tightened her lips and her brow creased as she narrowed her eyes looking at the landlord. "Am I that predictable?"
"I just like to keep an eye out for pretty, talented young witches such as yourself. Especially with the family you come from and the number of brothers that you have. It's the wise thing to do."
A shudder ran down her spine. "I think that is comforting."
Tom pushed a glass of Fire Whiskey across the table and towards her. "So what are you reading?"
"The Daily Prophet."
"That will give you nightmares," he growled as he turned to leave. "It's a terrible thing to happen to such a remarkable young witch. Wouldn't like to see it happen again. So don't you spend too much time on your own, it's just not safe."
"I can take care of myself, Tom. Like you said, I come from a pretty powerful family so there's really no need to worry," she replied as she forced a small smile. "Besides, the man who puts my life in danger should be getting here soon, so maybe that's when people should worry a little bit."
"If you say so," Tom said as he gave a slight bow and walked away. "Enjoy your drink, Miss Weasley."
She watched for a couple more seconds as the old barman made his way back over to the till. He looked back over at a couple of elderly witches who were drinking glasses of sherry and smoking from long pipes, giving them a toothless grin as he joined in with their conversation. Her eyes drifted away from the bar as she ignored a couple of nagging doubts in her mind and glanced back down to her copy of the Daily Prophet. She never should have picked it up to read, not yet anyway. She had only intended to pass through the pub on the way to an appointment in Knockturn Alley before she met Harry, but when she had seen the headline, curiosity had got the better of her.
These days, eighteen-year-old Ginny Weasley thought that nothing shocked her anymore. Things made her upset and angry but they never seemed to shock her. Especially with the insiders' reports that she heard. Death Eaters were evil and clinical robots with no ounce of humanity within them. She had seen people killed in battle, had family and friends that had lost their lives, been tortured, watched hopelessly as others were tortured, and almost died on a dirty stone floor littered with bones as Tom Riddle emerged from a diary.
So, why had she been so affected by today's article in the damn newspaper?
Ginny knocked the glass of Fire Whiskey back so quickly that she felt the flames lighting up in her mouth and down her throat. It was almost like she would be able to breathe fire had she chosen to do so.
She had known Jessica Stevens, Jess or 'annoying busybody' Stevens (as she been known by), for seven years and shared a dormitory room with her while she had been at Hogwarts. They had shared the same friends and many an argument over anything and everything. Despite being the complete opposite of each other with their clashing personalities, they had spent a lot of time in each other's company. It was the kind of thing that often happened when you had the same friends as someone else.
Jessica was the typical type of girl from school that you loved to hate; she had both brains and beauty. Her long blond hair, sparkling blue eyes, and tall, thin figure made her look just like a Muggle Barbie doll. She was the kind of girl that all the boys fancied in a similar fashion to Cho Chang. As someone who would never dream of breaking a school rule, she was the a-typical Head Girl, with high marks and good behaviour. It was inevitable that she would clash with a Quidditch-loving trouble maker with red hair and freckles who had been placed in detention too many times to count and thought that rules were made to be broken. In fact, several times Jessica had never failed to miss the opportunity to personally give her a detention.
Yet none of that had mattered as war had started to rage and Hogsmeade came under attack for the first time in the June of their fifth year. Jessica had stood and bravely fought against oncoming Death Eaters, despite having the opportunity to run like many others had done. She had stayed with them and risked her life.
"Ginny."
Upon hearing her name, fifteen-year-old Ginny Weasley stopped running in the middle of the street and spun around looking for who called it. "Yes?" she demanded in an annoyed tone, struggling to catch her breath.
She looked straight at Jessica but hardly paid any attention. Why was the bloody prefect trying to stop her now? What rule had she broken by running through Hogsmeade? Not that it mattered. All that mattered was that he had gone missing and she had to find him. She couldn't let him risk his life and run into blind allies after Death Eaters, not without support.
"He's not up there." The fifth year prefect replied in a sense of urgency in her voice and her face looked flustered from the day's events.
"Who?" she asked, growing increasingly impatient; she was wasting so much time. "What are you going on about, who's not up there?"
"Harry Potter, it's who you're trying to find. Everyone knows it, Ginny, it's only a matter of time before you two get together. But that doesn't matter at the moment. There's nothing up there apart from a Death Eater's apparition point," Jessica explained as she kept firing jets of red and green sparks out of her wand, before turning back around the corner and behind the protection of the shop to relative safety. "It's not safe down there."
Ginny found herself glancing down the street before turning to look back at her classmate. "Are you okay, Jess?"
"I'll be fine." She replied panting slightly and holding onto a sign for support. "But I think they sent a Bonesplinter Curse at my leg, it feels like jelly."
Ginny winced despite herself; the Bonesplinter Curse was known to shatter the bones within your body. If it was aimed at the right areas, such as the rib cage, the curse could lead to a long and painful death as key organs were overloaded with so much weight, thus leading them to collapse.
"Give me your hand," she said as she offered the prefect her left hand. "You can lean on me, you need to get back to the castle to have Madam Pomfrey fix your leg before the curse spreads. Trust me, I know it's better for her to fix these things as quickly as possible before it does any permanent damage. I know a shortcut back to the castle."
"Would this quick way back to Hogwarts be something that I should be reporting as a school prefect?"
"Other prefects I know have turned a blind eye to it," Ginny said as she let out a small smile. "And I'm guessing you wouldn't want to test out any of my big brother's new products."
"I think it's something I can overlook this once," Jessica replied as she leaned on her for support and they started to walk. "You were pretty good out there."
"It comes from having big brothers," she explained with a small shrug and held out her wand in front of her. "You weren't too bad either."
"Comes from books and studying. I can't be seen to let my family down; they have all become Head Boy or Head Girl at Hogwarts. It's quite a weight to carry on your shoulders."
"I get that, everyone expects so much from you. Me, Fred and George are the only Weasleys not to become prefects in the last century, much to mum's displeasure. But you can't let it all mess with your mind, you just need to do what you think is right," Ginny said as she pushed open the door to Honeydukes Sweetshop. "So we've got the same friends, the same pressures so we must be at least a little alike, which begs the question why can't we stand each other?"
"Well, I wouldn't say we can't stand each other, it's more that we don't get on really. I mean we are both a-typical Gryffindors and get good grades, god knows how you manage to get yours though. So I guess we're far too similar in all the wrong aspects and the complete opposite in the right aspects. It's not a good combination," she said honestly. "Plus you left some itching powder in my bed last week."
She straightened her face as she adopted the look that got her out of some many rough points in the past with a smile of pure sweet innocence. "I deny all knowledge."
"I thought you would."
It was a day that had started to change her view of Jessica Stevens and the two of them had grown a mutual (if sometimes grudging) respect for each other. They were both Gryffindors for a reason and fighting against the Dark Wizards of the world, putting their lives on the line. They were more alike than either of them would ever admit, except in private to themselves. With a war going on, differences over bewitched pieces of homework and pillowcases, boyfriends, and trailing mud through the dormitory after Quidditch practices seemed to have lost any importance. They had all been forced to grow up so quickly, losing part of their childhood and teenage years to death and destruction.
They had all helped each other as almost every student in the school lost friends and family to Riddle. It created a strong spirit that had bound them together. She would never forget the way the girls in her dormitory, including Jess, had gathered around and supported her when the news of Charlie's death had reached her on that cold sunny November day during her seventh year. They had kept her sane and stopped her from breaking down, reminding her of what they were fighting for until she had managed to take a Portkey back to The Burrow. They had helped her when she had returned to school; tired, exhausted and emotionally drained. Her mother had insisted that she was not ready for the war and she just wanted her to stay safe and finish her NEWTs.
Jessica Stevens may be a 'goody-goody' and a school 'swot' with all of her homework done as soon as she got it, but she was also brave and loyal … the kind of girl you wanted on your side in a fight. She had become a strange type of friend. Not one that you would spend hours talking to or someone you would keep in contact with regularly. In fact, Ginny used to avoid her unless she was in a group of mutual friends, but she was a friend who was always there when you needed her. A friend that you never realised how important she was until it was too late.
But then when Jess had needed people to help her, no one had been there. She had been alone when she had needed people around her. Left alone and terrified, being tortured in unthinkable ways as she stood up for equality in the Wizarding world, when others should have been able to help her. Surely she was too young for all this? She was Ginny's age and after all, they had only left Hogwarts three short months ago.
Maybe her mother was right about the war and teenagers.
Only ninety days ago, despite the occasional risk, they were protected. Albus Dumbledore would never let any of his students be harmed in any way; so all they had to do, as they were constantly reminded, was to stay on the Hogwarts grounds. Riddle was still afraid of facing the Hogwarts Headmaster so as long as they obeyed school rules they were as safe as they could be.
Yet now all that had changed and they were not in school anymore. They were now in danger everyday and as Mad-Eye Moody kept reminding them they needed "CONSTANT VIGILANCE". Yet none of that helped her with knowing what to do now. She should go and see her old school classmate or at the very least send her an owl.
But what did you say?
'I'm thinking of you' just did not seem like enough.
Harry Potter splashed some freezing cold water over his face to wake himself up and jolt his senses into gear. He smiled as he took his glasses off the side and looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Gone was the scrawny boy who was forced to wear Dudley's hand-me-downs that were at least six sizes too big. Instead, in its place was a nineteen-year-old wizard that was growing in power everyday and would one day soon be able to destroy Voldemort, ending this war. Power that came from love, the loving and being loved by the most amazing witch that lived in the world.
It was Saturday and he probably should have got up earlier to make sure that everything was in order for today. But it all should work out fine. After all, he had spent hours going through plans with Mrs Weasley yesterday, when he had collected the perfect finishing touch to his plans, a ring that had been passed through the Weasley family from generation to generation starting with Godric Gryffindor.
Besides, like the witch he loved, he enjoyed his Saturday and Sunday morning lie-ins. That was until the noisy shop below his flat had woke him up with loud crashes, bangs and explosions. Unfortunately, it was what tended to happen on a regular basis when you lived at 93 Diagon Alley, with your co-founders of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes working below you. Ginny often insisted that they were lucky that they had chosen to protect her honour or at least come up those stairs more often. He had had chosen to respectfully disagree, being caught with the younger sister of the Weasley brothers in a compromising situation once was too often for him.
He poured water over his black hair in an attempt to straighten it, but as soon as he ran a comb through it the familiar tuff of hair flicked upwards. He cursed it silently; he was trying to make a good impression today and do everything how it should be done, wanting Ginny to see him at his best. But then again that was not the Harry Potter that she knew and he would not be himself with neat controllable hair. It would be like Ginny without her freckles.
Harry collected a small box from under his pillow and placed it carefully in his trouser pocket. He had promised Mrs Weasley that he would keep it safe until it was where it belonged. He smiled as he looked around his bedroom; he had had some of the best memories of his life in here with Miss Weasley. But if everything went right today he would be looking for a new bedroom in a new flat. Ginny deserved the very best and that did not mean a flat in which her older brothers could appear in a second without any advanced warning.
His heart jumped as he felt the small red and gold velvet box in his right trouser pocket as it rested against his leg. Today was the day that his whole life was going to change in one way or another. He was not going to let Voldemort stop him from living his life and tonight at the Weasley family dinner he expected to be the happiest man alive. Whatever was set to happen in half an hour's time was going to make this a day that he would always remember.
He grabbed his cloak off the chair he had flung it over last night; he was lucky that the woman of his dreams was not a 'neat freak'. Unlike Ron, he did not have to make sure that everything was in the right place before he left a room. He could leave things where he wanted and as long as he knew where the important things were, he was happy. And at the moment, the most important person in his life was waiting for him and he needed to get going before he was late.
Harry smiled as he picked up his wand and placed it in his inside cloak pocket; with Voldemort still around he liked to have his wand in arms reach at all times. Despite the fact that it was highly unlikely for Voldemort to jump out from a side alley to attack him, he liked to feel safe with it. The risk just was not worth taking and there was no way that he was going to place the people who he loved at risk. He had lost too many of the people he loved already to Dark Wizards and he was not going to lose anyone else. If there was one thing that he had learned, it was that life was short and he should cherish every moment of it.
He Disapparated from the living room of his flat and reappeared in the Leaky Cauldron by the large open fire, mere seconds later. His eyes searched through the multicoloured smoke hanging in the air for a glint of bright red hair amongst the dark backdrop of the crowd of people in the busy pub. That was the thing about dating a redhead, there were so few people with that colour hair which meant that you could always find them in a crowd without putting too much effort into it.
She had her head bent down over a copy of one of the Wizarding newspapers or magazines and an empty glass beside it on the round table. She seemed isolated in her own little world and completely oblivious to what was going on around her as she stared down at the paper. But then that was Ginny Weasley for you, when she gave her full attention to something it was hard to shift it; she had inherited all the typical Weasley stubbornness.
He quickly made his way through the crowd to the corner where she sat. He knew how to get her attention better than most. A quick, sharp and playful trick or prank always worked wonders and it was a tactic that Ginny had not been opposed to using herself. He carefully held his breath in as he tried not to make any noise and placed his hands over her eyes.
Ginny let out a small gasp into the air as her right hand jumped towards her pocket and knocked over the glass in front of her. Within milliseconds she had pulled out her wand and had jabbed against his chest as if she was ready to curse him. Quick reactions almost like when she had been on the Quidditch pitch.
Harry looked at her slightly bemused for a second. It was not the best idea to sneak up behind her but she normally was okay with it. What had made her so jumpy today?
"Hey!" he said as he held up his hands and studied her face. It looked very pale, almost as if she had been crying. "It's just me, you know, Harry? Actually, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Harry," she breathed as she regained her composure, keeping her wand held high and playfully punching his arm. "Don't you dare do that again!"
Harry moved his hand forward to move her hair out of her eyes. "What's happened?"
"You've just sneaked up on me," she said, a smile creeping to the corner of her mouth as she kept her wand raised. "You could scare a girl to death like that, Potter."
"Like you've never sneaked up on me, Weasley," he replied in a mock-serious tone, unable to hide his grin. "Come on, Weasley, put your wand down, it looks like you are about to poke me in the eye."
"I wouldn't poke you in the eye, not that you don't deserve it," Ginny said as she adopted an innocent tone to her voice and straightened her face. "It would be highly impractical due to the fact you wear glasses. But then I could always find other areas."
Harry smiled as Ginny's mischievous grin finally appeared and he took her hands into his. Dropping his voice he whispered, "I don't think that you should be saying that kind of thing in public, Miss Weasley."
"Well," she whispered as she raised her eyebrows, stroking his face with her right hand, "I think you should stick to your promise and take me somewhere else, Mr Potter. Maybe somewhere more private where I can hold my wand where I want."
"And what would your mother say if she could hear you now and see that twinkle in your eye?"
Ginny got to her feet and let her hand fall into his. "Well I'm a strong believer in the statement what my mother does not know can't hurt me."
He squeezed her hand, "You mean her, don't you?"
"No, I meant me," she said as she cast her eyes around the round almost as if she was looking for Mrs Weasley. "Come on, Harry, you've met my mum and seen her in a shouting fit."
Harry let out a small laugh; he loved her sense of humour and mischief. The way she had a twinkle in her eye or the corners of her lips curled as she was trying to hide a smile. And most importantly the way her hand felt in his, it was a perfect fit as her petite wrist slipped naturally with his. They were perfect for each other and no one was going to come between that.
"I love you, Gin."
"I love you too, Harry."
He tipped her face upwards and moved closer letting his lips meet with hers. She stood on her tiptoes, placing her left hand on the side of his face and keeping her right hand in his. He felt a tremble run down his back as their tongues touched and the initial brief kiss was deepened. Her tongue massaged his and he ran his right hand down her back resting it just below her waist.
Slowly he pulled away. "So are you going to tell me what has upset you so much today?"
"It's just the Prophet, Death Eaters and this bloody war. I don't want to think or talk about it. I'm sick of being strong and seeing people I care about being hurt. I just want to be me and spend some time with the man I love … forget it all for a day before we are dragged back to the reality of it all," she told him as she kept her hand in his and they made their way passed the bar and into a small walled court yard that contained only an old battered tin dustbin and a couple of weeds in the corner. "And we need to get going if we're going to get some lunch before I have that appointment."
Harry found himself frowning slightly, he knew that he would never know everything about Ginny Weasley; she kept far too many things close to her heart. But he just wanted to know about the only thing that Ginny had kept quiet about since she had left Hogwarts and her mysterious appointments.
She would have whispered conversations with her twin brothers then tell him not to worry and disappear for hours coming back holding a paper bag that Fred or George would quickly hide in their store room. She refused to say where she had got the items for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products and seemed to becoming more ambitious in the objects she brought back. When anyone questioned her activities, she stated that she should not be treated differently just because she was a girl and she did not need mollycoddling or protecting.
"Are you going to tell me what you are doing or even where you are going?"
"I'll tell you when I get back," Ginny explained in a similar fashion as she raised her wand, yet Harry knew she never seemed to do so. She tapped her wand against the wall three times and smiled broadly as the wall parted. "You'll only worry and besides, I know how to take care of myself. Especially when I don't have you, Ron or Hermione putting me in danger."
Harry watched for a second; it always seemed to amaze him as the small hole appeared and the bricks wriggled apart and how the whole of his world was hidden. He smiled as he looked from the young redhead next to him back to the hole that was growing wider and into a huge archway. This was where they belonged. He felt Ginny squeeze his hand as together they stepped into a cobbled street and one of his favourite places in the world.
"I resent that," he muttered as he watched her raise her eyebrows. "Okay, maybe it's a little true, but you're still a target, Gin, and I want you to promise me that you will look after yourself."
"I always do, if only due to the fact that now I have you in my life. You are not going to get rid of me that easily."
"But the article in the Daily Prophet?"
"I'll admit I might have been a little shaken but we can't live our lives in fear of what might happen, that's just what Riddle wants and I'm not going to make him happy. Just imagine the look on that cold, evil face as he sees us enjoying our lives and sticking two fingers up at him," she smiled as she spoke softly and continued to walk through the bustling street, unwilling to remove her hand from his. "We deserve some fun, don't you think? So where do you want to go?"
"I think you're right as always."
"I love it when you say that."
"How about the Kirke's restaurant just past Ollivander's?"
"My, my Mr Potter," she said as she squeezed his hand softly again. "Are you going to wine and dine me?"
Harry placed his right hand into his pocket and felt it settle around the box containing Godric Gryffindor's ring. "That was the general idea."
"You know you don't need to do that, I don't need any of that," Ginny told him as she kissed his cheek again. "I'd be happy at Florean Fortescues's Ice Cream Parlour as long as I'm with you."
"I thought you just said a minute ago that you didn't need anyone and I just put you in danger."
"Well, I think I can put up with that," she whispered so only he could hear her. "You see I've got this small problem called my heart and it loves you and that means I want to spend all the time that I can humanly possible with you."
Harry smiled. "I know how that feels. It feels like you don't want to wait any longer and as you said, why shouldn't we be allowed a little fun and romance just because we are in the middle of a war? My life would be empty without you in it, Gin."
He knew people were watching them as he stopped next to Quality Quidditch Supplies and Ginny sent him a quizzical look, but he did not care. People always watched them together, he was famous and Ginny was so recognisable with flaming red hair and from one of Britain's most prominent Wizarding families. This was not how he had planned to do this, not in the middle of a street, but somehow it just felt like the right thing and the perfect time.
Harry gently fell to his knees and pushed one leg upward, looking like he was about to be knighted Sir Harry Potter. He felt the box in his hand and carefully got it from his pocket. Mrs Weasley had explained the history behind the ring last night. When Godric Gryffindor had commissioned his sword over a thousand years ago he had asked for a ring to be made as well. The ring contained a small red ruby that blazed in the firelight similar to the ones that adorned the sword in Albus Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts. The gold ring had been passed from generation to generation for each female born Weasley to wear on her engagement. And now, hopefully it was Ginny's turn to wear the ring.
"What are you doing, Harry?" she hissed. "Come on, Harry, stop messing around and get to your feet."
He opened the box and watched as Ginny's eyes widened and her mouth fell open slightly. "I have something to ask you first."
"Harry," she breathed, "that's-"
"I know what it is," he said calmly as he took her left hand.
"Ginny Weasley, will you marry me?"