Disclaimer: The only place I own Harry Potter (or the characters and settings of his magical world) is in my dreams. They all actually belong to J.K. Rowling, as if you didn't know.
Ginny grabbed Harry's arm as she fell against him in panic. She clung to him as he slowly scanned the area for signs of death and destruction. He didn't have to look long, for at the far end of the tent, where the disturbance had started, the stunned crowd had completely cleared and people were now backing away from a table in the center. There, around the table, four bodies slouched lifelessly. One, it seemed, had been killed in cold blood from behind, as he had an almost happy expression on his face and was still clutching a large chocolate éclair. Ginny's heart pounded wildly as she realized it was the French Minister of Magic.
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As soon as everyone realized what had happened, the tent was immediately cleared and Aurors were called in. All of Fleur's fancy guests were ordered to return home immediately. All, except those who could stand as credible witnesses. It was soon discovered that not a single other person had been hurt in any way. This was clearly a well-planned attack, with the four dead men being the only intended targets. The Death Eaters had gotten what they had come for.
The Aurors worked tirelessly through the night to make sure all the guests returned safely. They questioned as many witnesses as they could find, and then spent the remainder of the night talking to the Weasley and Delacour parents in the seclusion of the Weasley's sitting room, which had powerful silencing charms placed on it by the Aurors, who had then shunted the remaining family members into the kitchen to wait.
As the night stretched on into the wee hours of the morning, Ginny and Harry sat wordlessly around the kitchen table drinking hot cocoa with several members of her distraught family, including the bride and groom. They were trying to discuss where and how the security measures could have failed, what possible reason the Death Eaters could have had to attack here, and how they knew the wedding was going on in the first place.
Fleur, who had been sitting, staring noiselessly at her empty mug throughout the entire conversation, suddenly jumped in,
"It eez all my fault. I 'ave put your family een danger! I should 'ave known somezing like zis would 'appen."
They all turned to look at her incredulously.
"You knew?" said Harry quietly.
"No, of course I did not know!" said Fleur forcefully, mascara running in watery lines down her porcelain cheeks. "But I could 'ave guessed! Ze Death Eaters 'ave a very large following een my country. And zey 'ave been after our country's Minister for so long, eet was only a matter of time before zey found 'im, anyway. But I'm only so sorry eet 'ad to 'appen 'ere! 'E 'as been in hiding for so long, I never zought zey would find 'im 'ere."
They all looked at her in shock.
"Well why did the Minister come here then, if he's supposed to be in hiding?" Harry asked. He seemed to be the only one who was capable of talking at the moment and he was hungry for more information.
"I told you eet was all my fault. You see, 'e was an old family friend. But 'e 'ad not seen me since I was a leetle girl. I personally invited 'im to come. 'E could not refuse!" Fleur cried, hysterical.
Ginny had the sinking suspicion that the fact that so much time had passed was not the only reason he couldn't refuse her request. Fleur was part-Veela after all.
"But why would the Death Eaters want to kill him so badly?" Ginny tried.
"Because 'e 'as long been a supporter of zose of us who are against Lord…" but Fleur couldn't finish saying the name.
"I never realized Voldemort had a following anywhere else" said Harry softly, looking down at a spot of knotted wood in the table.
Fleur looked at him as though he was stupid. "But where do you think 'e went during all zat time 'e went missing after 'e left school? France 'as a fair amount of evil wizards, 'Arry." She looked at him darkly. "Many French wizards – and witches – were among ze first to be called Death Eaters. Where do you think ze spell to conjure ze Dark Mark originated? 'Mors Mordre.' Eet eez French!" she exclaimed bitterly and burst into sobs against Bill's chest.
No one dared to say anything. They all just sat there looking everywhere but at Fleur crying in Bill's arms, never making eye contact with anybody else. Finally, Bill stood with some difficulty and said, "Alright everyone. I think that's enough for tonight. We should all go and try to get some sleep. I'm sure the Aurors will fill us all in after we've had some rest."
Everyone reluctantly agreed and headed to their respective rooms for what was left of the night.
Harry came with Ginny to her room and sat on the edge of the bed with her as she lay down. She looked at him watching her, and could find nothing to say, that is, she could find no way to put what she was feeling into words. But she knew Harry understood. And that's what she loved about him. The way things didn't need to be spoken to be felt. He watched her until she closed her eyes, and then she felt the warmth of his body as he lay down beside her. He tenderly draped an arm over her stomach and held her to him as he buried his face in her neck. This was the closest she'd been to him since school let out. She squeezed her eyes tight as she tried to fight back the tears that would surely come if she thought about how much she would miss him once he went away. She knew, well, she hoped that Harry felt the same way, and the last thing she felt before drifting off into a fitful slumber was that of a single drop of hot moisture falling onto her neck and sliding off into her hair.
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When Ginny awoke the next day, Harry was gone. She was completely alone.
"Merlin…" she sighed and wearily dragged her hands across her face.
She looked dully at the ceiling for a while, taking in the cross of shadows and oddly stretched squares of light cast by the sun streaming in through her window. She hadn't been sleeping well since the night Dumbledore died, but last night had definitely been one of the worst. She lay in bed thinking about everything that had happened, trying to remember every detail to see if there was something she could have missed, some tiny factor that she had overlooked, anything to focus on other than the fact that Harry was most definitely not here. It was well past noon and the house seemed unnaturally still. Ginny didn't want to move at all, so great was her anxiety. She rolled over and tried to occupy herself by tracing the outline of the pink flowers on her bedspread with a lazy finger. But she eventually realized that nothing was going to take her mind off of things. She took a deep breath and hoisted herself out of bed, dismayed as she remembered that she had slept in her clothes. After changing and freshening up a bit, Ginny made her way down to the kitchen to find something small to eat. She was hoping she could find some crackers or dry toast. She didn't think her stomach could handle much more than that at this point.
She met no one on the way downstairs, and when she got to the kitchen, the only other person there was Bill. He was rummaging around for the better pieces of leftover bacon that had been left on a plate on the counter. He must have missed breakfast, too, thought Ginny.
"Slept in, too, I see," said Bill kindly, as Ginny took a seat next to him.
"Yeah," she yawned back. "Where is everyone?"
"Out, mostly," Bill stated. "There's a lot of work to be done. I think Dad is still around here somewhere with a couple of Aurors, though. You could probably find him if you tried."
"Where's Harry?" Ginny asked hesitantly, after a moment. "Have you seen him?"
Ginny could tell that her brother had been waiting for her to ask this question. She could also tell by his awkward pause, that the answer was not one she wanted to hear.
"Well…" he began. It was obvious that he was struggling to find the best way to put it. "Harry left this morning for Godric's Hollow with Ron and Hermione. He told us to tell you goodbye from him. He seemed to think it was best not to wake you."
Ginny's eyes widened in unpleasant surprise, but she said nothing. He had really done it. He'd left without her. And he hadn't even said goodbye. Ginny's pulse pounded in her ears and she felt lightheaded. She tried to rationalize that Harry was just protecting her, but any way she looked at it, she felt abandoned.
Bill sensed her distress, and moved clumsily toward her to envelop her in a hug. Ginny hugged him back with all she had in her. This was her brother. Her oldest brother. She had still been a young child when he left school, and they had very rarely shared moments of closeness. But now she was overwhelmed at the rush of love she felt for him, as he held her comfortably in his strong arms. She was so stunned she couldn't even bring herself to cry. In another time, Ginny would have pulled away after a while to look into her brother's face and silently thank him for consoling her. But as much as she would always love him, even she found it hard to look at the tangled network of slashes that Bill's face had become. She knew if she were to look at him, he would see it in her eyes, and she couldn't bear to hurt him that way. So she just held on, glad that she had another human there, to let her know she was still real.
As they finally came apart, Fleur entered the kitchen with a swish of her flowing lavender robes, and came to sit across from Ginny and Bill. Her face was drawn and her lips slightly pursed. She appeared to have gotten no sleep whatsoever. Indeed, she looked worse than Ginny had ever seen her. She remembered how Fleur had shown such scorn when Tonks had let herself go for a while, and almost began to think that this could be a humbling experience for Fleur. But as soon as she thought it, Ginny realized that she would never wish that feeling of despair on anyone, and immediately felt a wave of guilt pour over her.
Fleur sat and said nothing, But Bill was looking at her, and they seemed to be talking knowingly with their eyes.
Ginny looked again at Bill. She forced herself to look at her brother's eyes only, avoiding the rest of his features. The light she had seen in them the day before had greatly diminished. What a horrible thing to have happen on the most important day of his life. She knew he and Fleur had cancelled their honeymoon to St. Tropez in the wake of the wedding disaster, and she promptly felt selfish for thinking so much about Harry, when they were no longer even dating. Suddenly she didn't feel so hungry anymore. Her head ringing with the unfairness of it all, she excused herself without eating and went back to her room.
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Ginny had spent most of the day secluded by herself in her bedroom, waiting for the others to get home. Eventually, she decided to wait downstairs in the sitting room. She figured that if she was in a public area, she would be less likely to mope and feel sorry for herself. And it nearly worked.
Ginny was on the couch with her legs draped over one arm, staring absentmindedly at her mother's clock. The hands accompanying each family member pointed directly to the space where the twelve would be on ordinary clocks, but which here said, "Mortal Peril." It had been this way for a year now. She wondered if things would ever return to a state of normalcy.
Just then, her mother could be heard Flooing in from the fireplace in the next room. Molly Weasley briskly entered the sitting room, brushing off her faded dark-blue robes as she came. She seemed startled to see Ginny there, and slowed her pace suspiciously as she walked over to sit in the old armchair across from Ginny. They looked at each other for some time without speaking. Ginny regarded her mother nonchalantly before saying,
"So where were you?"
Her mother looked uneasy for a split second, but then recovered and said, "Oh, just out. I needed to get away from the house. Clear my head, you know."
But Ginny didn't believe her mother's charade for a second. She had definitely not inherited her superior acting skills from the Prewett side of the family. Her mother was avoiding her. She decided to try a different tack.
"Mum. I know it has got something to do with the Order. Don't pretend like it hasn't," Ginny said with a bold attempt at exasperation. "Just tell me now. I think I earned the right to know by being there when it all happened."
Her mother looked at her for a moment, almost pleading with her eyes not to make her say anything. It was in this instant that Ginny seemed to realize how much her mother was actually beginning to show her age. She looked tired. Ginny didn't like it.
"Please, mum. I think it's important," she said quietly after a moment of silence.
"Ginny, I can't, dear. I simply can't," was her mother's strained reply.
Ginny didn't bother getting angry. She could tell it hurt her mother not to be able to speak freely about whatever it was. Her mother would tell her if she could, especially if it would save her the pain of being in the dark about this, when Ginny was now the only member of the Weasley family staying at the Burrow who wasn't an official member of the Order of the Phoenix. But Ginny had made up her mind to learn what was really going on. She was determined find out some other way, then, and she thought her mother knew that too.
"It's ok, mum. You don't have to tell me," Ginny sighed halfheartedly and left the room. But she paused without a sound as she was just out of sight of her mother, and could hear her taking deep gulping breaths as though she were trying not to cry. Ginny would discover what was going on. She just didn't realize that it would happen so soon, or that she would find out much more than she'd bargained for.
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It was later in the evening, and Ginny was sitting on the edge of her bed trying to take interest in an old Witch Weekly article about how to use doxy eggs in a potion to help clear up bad acne. She had read the same line five times without really comprehending what it said. Her mind was just on other things. She was starting to drift off when she heard a soft knock on the door. A muffled voice from the other side said,
"Gin? May I come in?"
It was her father. She got up and opened the door without answering. Arthur Weasley appeared absolutely drained.
"What's up?" she asked listlessly as she returned inattentively to her position on the edge of the bed.
Her father stepped self-consciously into the room and stood looking around for a place to sit. There wasn't any. The only other chair in the room was covered in the clean laundry that Ginny had yet to put away.
"Er…" her father started.
Ginny realized what was the matter and got up, shoving the clothes off the chair and into the laundry basket on the floor by her desk.
She once again resumed her position on the bed, and was surprised when her father sat down next to her. She was about to ask (a bit crossly) why he wasn't sitting in the chair she had just bothered to clear for him, when she realized that the door was still open and someone else was standing in the doorway. Ginny looked uneasily at her father, who looked reassuringly back at her and then motioned for the man to come in. He did so, and as he stepped out of the shadows of the dark hallway, she saw that he was wearing Auror's robes, and the badge on his chest showed that he was of a very high rank. He was a tall and imposing figure of a man. He wasn't as scarred as Mad-Eye Moody, but he had a wild look in his eyes that spoke volumes about the tragedies he must have seen and endured. The man stood in the middle of the room, making sure he had Ginny's permission before sitting at her desk chair.
"Er…" said her father again. "This is Solomon Crowbeam. He's an Auror who also works for the International Magical Office of Law."
Ginny recognized that it was a subdivision of the Department of International Magical Cooperation – the Ministry department for which her brother Percy had previously worked. She could only imagine what he would want to talk to her about.
"He has – that is, we have something we'd like to discuss with you," her father continued.
"What is it?" asked Ginny warily.
"Well, Miss Weasley," said Solomon Crowbeam, speaking for the first time. Ginny noticed that his voice was not as gravelly or gruff as she'd been expecting, but strangely smooth and intoxicating. She supposed this would be a useful characteristic in his line of work – especially if you were trying to persuade someone to do something. Her surprise at his voice did not go unnoticed, and he continued, "We'd like to know exactly what you remember of the events that took place last night. Other witnesses led us to believe that you were one of the first to realize there was danger. We'd like to know what you saw, what you heard. Also, we understand that you are close to The Chosen One, Harry Potter, and were wondering if you knew of his current whereabouts."
Ginny fought to keep from smirking. The Chosen One? These people never stop, do they? she thought. And they didn't know where Harry was? They could have just asked Bill, after all, that was how she found out. But Ginny took the fact that Harry had not been friendly with the current ministry as a sign that she should in no way surrender the knowledge of his location.
But Ginny didn't have a problem recounting everything she could remember of the night before. She would do anything if it would help catch the Death Eaters who had not only killed government officials, but had ruined her brother's wedding. She noticed that Crowbeam had been recording everything she said in a little notepad, his black feather quill scribbling furiously as he compared her notes with those of other witnesses. He made little noises of affirmation in his throat, nodding from time to time, stopping only to ask questions or clarify the meaning of what she'd said. Before long, she'd finished telling him everything she could remember, down to the last detail.
He paused in his writing. He seemed to be expecting her to continue. But she had nothing else to say.
"Miss Weasley?" he asked.
Ginny looked up at him, wondering what else he could want.
"Yes?" she said, puzzled.
"Harry Potter" Crowbeam said plainly. "Do you know where he's gone?"
Ginny had forgotten that he'd wanted to know. But she had resolved not to tell him unless she heard it from Harry himself.
"I'm afraid I can't tell you," Ginny stated. Crowbeam looked highly affronted, but she continued, "As I don't even know myself."
This seemed to appease him, as he did not press her further. She was lying through her teeth, but the Auror did not seem to notice. He made a note of something on his pad, and looked at Arthur impatiently. Ginny's father cleared his throat a few times before turning to her.
"Gin, there's one more thing," he said almost inaudibly.
"What?" she plied as he paused.
"It's a…a favour of sorts. Quite a large undertaking actually. But everyone feels you're the only one right for the job," said her father. He seemed to be having a hard time saying this to her.
"Like what…?" Ginny inquired, becoming irritated.
"Well," her father said hoarsely, "Crowbeam, here, has a fair few connections with the higher-ups at the Ministry, and not just in Britain. He's pulled some strings and managed to procure…"
Ginny watched as her father looked over to Crowbeam, who reached into his robes and pulled out a thick, flat parcel wrapped in brown paper. He handed it to Arthur, who took it and held it out to Ginny.
"…this," he finished at last.
Ginny stared down at the package and then up into her father's face. She moved her eyes over to Crowbeam, who was watching her intently, then back down at the package.
"But, what's it for?" she asked.
"Just open it," Arthur said weakly.
Ginny gave her father and the Auror one last quizzical glance before turning to the thick brown envelope and lifting the top flap. She reached inside the packet and pulled out the first sheet of parchment. She gazed down and read,
"Imogene Wells?"
Ginny was looking down incredulously at the crisp certificate of birth she was now holding. The dark black ink stood out against the stark pallor of the parchment.
"What is this?" Ginny questioned. "Is it a missing person? Someone you need to find?"
Her father smiled feebly at her, and then exchanged an unreadable look with the Auror.
"No, Ginny," he finally said reluctantly. "It's you."
"But – what?" said Ginny, confused, staring back down at the certificate. "What do you mean?"
Her father took a deep breath and sighed it out slowly, looking up at the ceiling.
"It's not you, yet, Gin," he said, trying to sound brave. "But it will be."
Ginny was totally lost.
"But that doesn't make any sense," she said, as her pulse quickened. "I don't understand…"
She looked from her father to the Auror and back again, her eyes resting on her father's worn out face. But he offered no clarification.
"We'd been meaning to tell you later when we would have had more time to explain. But after what happened at the wedding…" said Crowbeam, when Arthur seemed unable to answer.
"What are you saying?" Ginny interjected before he could finish.
"Gin," said her father meekly, and tried to explain. "The members of the Order all know you would do anything to help our cause. But returning to Hogwarts is simply not an option for you, now that Harry, Ron, and Hermione have left. You may not have known it, but by being friends with them, you were under heavy protection at all times. Both by Dumbledore and Harry. Harry probably didn't even know it, but he would have done anything for you, not to mention that Ron would, too. And with Dumbledore gone forever, and Harry not returning to school, Hogwarts could be a very dangerous place for you."
Ginny could think of nothing substantial to say.
"So –" she managed numbly.
"You see," her father started again. "Not only will you not have the protection you once had at Hogwarts, but by being in Harry's inner circle, you may have become a target yourself. Vold – I mean, You-Know-Who's followers could try and use you to get to Harry, if given the chance. And the way things are now, even at Hogwarts, you'd be much more vulnerable and open to attack. You're far too valuable to You-Know-Who to be safe there for long."
"So what am I supposed to do?" cried Ginny anxiously, not fully grasping his meaning, yet taking a deep steadying breath as she tried to keep her world from crashing down around her shoulders.
"I'm afraid you will not be able to attend Hogwarts this year, Miss Weasley," Crowbeam explained assertively.
"But where am I supposed to go?" Ginny asked, alarmed.
Arthur and Crowbeam exchanged another incomprehensible look.
"Read the next paper, Gin," her father said softly. He averted his eyes, as this seemed to upset him very much.
She reached a trembling hand towards the packet and pulled out a blood-red envelope. This was addressed to Miss Imogene M. Wells. Ginny was completely perplexed as she opened the letter, which had been sealed with black wax so thick and dark, that she could barely make out that it had been stamped with an unfamiliar coat-of-arms or other symbol. She timidly took out the pale, folded parchment and stared down in disbelief at a very official-looking letter that began, "Dear Miss Wells, Congratulations on your acceptance to the Durmstrang Institute…"