Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the characters mentioned in this fanfiction. Nor do I own any of the spells, curses, or places. I merely own my own imagination.
allSPARKS' note: There you have it, another chapter! Enjoy and please review as soon as you've finished reading.
CHAPTER THREE
"Students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Professor McGonagall's voice came from the front of the Great Hall, where all of Albus Dumbledore's speeches were recited, time and time again. Minerva McGonagall's robes were soaked in blood and a part of her neck was wounded badly. "I have word that the school will be closed down for a few days, to clear everything up. Students will safely return home with their parents, who are being notified as we speak. Students will remain at home until they are owled to come back for the remainder of school. That is all, and I bid you good night."
"Ginny, Ron, Harry, Hermione, Percy, George," Mrs. Weasley called for her children, as well as Harry and Hermione.
Ginny immediately emerged into the crowd of Weasleys, with Hermione and Harry. "Arthur has gone to get a Portkey so we can make it safely to the Burrow." Mrs. Weasley stated, waving Bill, and Charlie over. "Will you two be staying with us?"
"I've got to get back to Fleur, mum," Bill replied, frowning.
"I'll come back with you mum," Charlie answered.
"Bill, inform Fleur th-th-that -" Mrs. Weasley trailed off, sobbing unconrollably due to her son's death.
"Don't worry mum, everything will be fine," Ron said, rubbing his mother's back.
Mrs. Weasley sniffled before continuing, "A-A-Arthur's waiting outside, we better get going before we miss our Portkey."
All the Weasley's including Harry and Hermione followed Mrs. Weasley out into the dusk, and advised everyone to put a finger on the large twig.
The Weasley's, including Harry and Hermione, were all spinning uncontrollably into nothingness. The Hogwarts grounds were disappearing immediately, as they spun with all their fingers glued onto the Portkey. It was only seconds later that they arrived in the yard of the Burrow, Ginny who wasn't used to utilizing a Portkey, fell forward to the yard as the others were up on their feet. Ginny felt a hand seize hers, pulling her up to her feet. She looked up immensely, looking Harry straight into his eyes.
"Thanks," Ginny thanked, as she brushed her hair out of her face.
"All right everyone straight up to your rooms, and get some sleep," Mrs. Weasley's voice trembled in the darkness of the night.
Ginny silently followed the group of Weasley's, as Harry, Ron and Hermione followed suit. It was horrible in the Burrow, as Ginny entered her home. The house was absolutely quiet, and no one was talking to each other. She yawned quietly to herself as she forced her way up the stairs and into her bedroom that she shared with Hermione for the past couple of years. She laid there on her four poster bed, stomach first, with her face stuffed into her pillows. Tears slid down to the pillows, as she cried silently to herself.
There was no way she could get any sleep at this point on. This was hard for Ginny to take in all the madness that had happened hours earlier. All the deaths, and the war in general made it hard for her to shut off her tears. It was nearly four in the morning, when there was a knock on the door. Immediately, she wiped the tears from her cheeks and sniffled. Looking at the window where another bed laid was unoccupied.
"Come in," Ginny managed, sniffling.
The door slowly swung opened, keeping the screeching noise from waking anybody. Behind the door was none other than the boy she had once had a major crush on. He entered the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. Ginny turned on the lamp on the night table next to her bed, to illuminate the room. Harry looked at her, falsely smiling. She avoided eye contact with Harry, as he sat next to her on the bed.
"How are you feeling?" Harry asked, breaking the silence.
"I'm fine, Harry," Ginny replied, but it didn't convince Harry one bit.
"Oh, OK," Harry said.
"What happened?" She asked, as the silence between them came about once more.
"What do you mean?" Harry replied with a question.
"I mean, how did you survive the Killing Curse? You were lying there dead," Ginny answered, refusing to burst out into tears in front of Harry.
"This whole time, Dumbledore had always told me that a part of Voldemort was inside of me, when the Killing Curse backfired sixteen years ago," Harry began, "Just before his death, he arranged a job that me, Ron and Hermione had to do. We had to search for Horcruxes. Which is why we went into hiding for most of the school year. And when we came back, Snape was killed in the Shrieking Shack, while we were under my dad's Invisibility Cloak. After that I had to get to the Penseive in Dumbledore's office, with Snapes memories in a vile."
"Harry, please get to the point, I have all afternoon tomorrow to tell me the whole thing," Ginny interrupted, "How did you survive it?"
"I was one of Voldemort's Horcruxes, so when he used the Killing Curse on me, he just broke that part of him that he had inside of me," Harry explained.
Ginny yawned quitely to herself, "I think I'm going to get some rest, good night Harry."
Harry nodded, as she reached to shut off the lamp. It was the moment Harry wanted since his departure from the Burrow months before. He leaned over towards Ginny, his lips caressing against hers. It was short and sweet, as Harry unlocked his lips from Ginny's. He said good night and shut the door behind him as he exited Ginny's room.
Ginny was so out of it, she did not even feel a single thing coming from the kiss. No passion. Ginny assumed that it would just take time, after all of the tragedies that have happened hours before. It would definitely take a long time to get over it. What if she wasn't in love with Harry anymore? What if there was someone else? Ginny scoffed, there was no one else that she could actually love besides Harry. Soon after, she shut her eyes putting herself in a deep sleep.
-
Two days had passed since the war against the Dark Lord had broke out. Two days that the only child of Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy had to think about the one who brought him to safety. Draco shook his head, returning to reality. It was the day that he would be returning to a different Hogwarts. Draco was in the midst of packing his belongings into his trunk, as well as his newly purchased wand from Ollivander's in the pocket of his robes, when a knock came from his door. He peered over his shoulder, his gray eyes fixed upon his mother, as she approached him.
"Draco, you are absolutely sure going back is what you want," Mrs. Malfoy said, folding a loose shirt from Draco's bed.
"Yes mother," Draco replied, assuring his mother that this was his choice.
"You are my son, and of age," Mrs Malfoy said, "If that is your choice, then I have no intentions of stopping you."
"You don't have to worry about me, mother," Draco sighed.
"I am not worried about you, Draco. Now, you have not told me who saved you," Mrs. Malfoy stated.
"Oh, Ginerva," he said, latching his trunk shut.
"You say her name like you have not met her before,"
"I haven't, to be honest," Draco replied.
"The only Ginerva that I recall is the Weasleys' daugter," Narcissa informed Draco.
"Come off it mother, you're lying," said Draco, astonished.
"Draco Malfoy, I am no liar," Narcissa hissed.
"OK, I'll be off to Kings Cross," Draco rushed. Could little Weaslette be the one who took him into safety? Could she be the one who mended his broken nose after her brother gave him the old one, two? It couldn't be Weaslette, she wouldn't go anywhere near Draco. The more Draco thought about it, the more it did not come to make any sense to him. It was the fact that the Weasley's are known to be blood traitors that reminded Draco that it could not have been Weaslette who saved him.
Draco had to remember exactly how Ginerva looked like. He could barely remember even bits of how she looked like because his eyes were watering from the blow that Ron had given him two days ago. The one thing that he could remember about Ginerva was of her brown eyes and freckled cheeks. Draco shrugged it off, as he exited his house and into the front lawn. He Apparated to Kings Cross and jogged through the barrier between Platforms 9 and 3, with his belongings in a trolley.
Platform 9 3/4 looked more safe and brighter than it had been in the beginning of the year. Students all around were leaving their parents for the second time this year, to get a seat in the Hogwarts Express. Little first years were gathering around their new friends that they have met this year. This hit Draco hard, he felt alone, after the death of one of his best mates, Crabbe. He only had Goyle, but word has it that he and his parents went into hiding after Voldemort's death. The two of them were the only ones that Draco had throughout the years. It was only natural for Draco to feel this way. Alone.
Draco found his way through the first years and into the Hogwarts Express. He slipped into a vacant compartment and pulled his trunk in with him. This was going to be a long ride back to Hogwarts for Draco. The horn of the Hogwarts Express rung into his ears as more students rushed to board the train seconds later. It seemed as though Draco was the only Slytherin boarding the Hogwarts Express. This was until a familiar face ticked on the compartment door. Blaise Zambini.
Blaise entered the compartment as he slid the compartment door shut behind him. "Oi, why does it seem like we're the only Slytherin's?"
Draco shrugged, "Dunno, probably because of Potty."
"I suppose - did you hear about what happened with Goyle?" Blaise asked, setting his trunk aside.
"Yeah, he went into hiding with his parents you moron," Draco sneered.
Blaise shook his head, "You, mate are the moron. Yes, they did went into hiding, but they were murdered in the midst of it."
"What? Where did you hear this, Zambini?" Draco asked, shocked at the news of his only friend's death.
"The Prophet's been up to date with the right news lately," Blaise stressed.
"Goyle... dead?" Draco murmured.
"Unfortunately mate," Blaise replied.
Draco couldn't believe his ears. First Crabbe, then Goyle. Who knows who might be next? Could it be that Draco's life may be at stake? He felt lonelier by the minute, and he was confused. Was the Ministry looking out for the former Death Eaters still remaining in the country? If Kingsley Shaklebolt and the rest of the Ministry were after more of the remaining Death Eaters, that would mean searching and capturing his parents.