The Hourglass: Chapter 12


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Despite the events of the afternoon, Ginny returned to the dormitory only slightly earlier than she would on a normal day. After the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, if it could even be called that anymore, the Carrows had made Ginny return to her own classes and forced her to complete the school day. Ginny suspected it was so that when her peers saw her in class, all white and shaken, they would be even further under the rule of terror than they already were.

She had never experienced such a long afternoon. She felt exhausted and beaten, every bit of her body tender to the touch. Somehow, she managed to last through the rest of the classes; her teachers cautiously gave her room knowing what she had been through, but all in all, it didn't seem that this was considered an abnormal experience. She skipped dinner, too tired to lug herself to the Great Hall and instead returned to the dormitory.

So this was what Neville had meant. Though she had known the Unforgivable Curses were coming…she hadn't thought that the Carrows could be forcing the students themselves to perform them on one another. It was outrageous, beyond all reason…and completely possible at this new Hogwarts, she now realized. It was just the new order of things. By punishing one another, the students would develop a certain callousness as well as an aptitude for the Dark Arts.

Ginny shivered and collapsed into an armchair, pulling her knees to her chest. Although tired and aching all over, she was not seriously hurt; most of the damage that had been inflicted upon her this afternoon was from Amycus Carrow, since the students had been too scared to do much real harm. After Ginny was finished, the other three students on detention had each been tortured by their groups of five students, which was even more sickening to watch than going through it personally.

But they would be all right in time; the damage wasn't lasting—what worried Ginny more was the fate of Blaise. She hadn't seen him at lunch, and had no idea what Alecto Carrow might have done with him after the lesson. Surely it couldn't be worse than the Cruciatus Curse…but then again, who knew? What scared Ginny was the fact that he had been hauled off because he refused to curse her. Not even refused exactly…he had just ignored the instruction. But disregarding a direct order from the Carrows might be an even greater offense than the one Ginny had committed.

Blaise had already looked so beaten-up today that Ginny felt sure this wasn't the first time he had resisted using the curse against another student.

She wasn't sure whether or not she was grateful for Blaise's gallantry. At the time of course, she had been touched by the gesture, but on the other hand, his punishment for disobeying the Carrows might be worse than hers. It may have been a smarter move for him to just perform the Cruciatus Curse badly on purpose, minimizing the punishment for both of them. But she didn't blame him for freezing up, if that was what happened. It was difficult to sort out these details under pressure and when he had looked at her, there was no conniving streak in his face. His eyes, usually squinted as though he were plotting something secret, had been relaxed and open. He had simply seemed to be searching her face; after all, it was the first time seeing her in a couple of weeks.

Ginny shook her head. The more she thought about it, the more clear it became that in the long run, Blaise's sacrifice wasn't worth it, and it was a bitter thought.

She sat there for a while longer until eventually Neville entered through the portrait hole and came over to her side with surprisingly quiet footsteps.

"I didn't see you at dinner."

Ginny shook her head, not in the mood for talking.

"Eat this," he said, handing her a warm napkin which she accepted gratefully and unwrapped to find a dinner roll.

He sat down on the arm of her chair while she slowly began to pull it apart and chew carefully, her jaw sore as though someone had pulled out her teeth that morning.

"I told the members about the DA coins," Neville said after a hesitant pause. "Went around after dinner. Most people have still got theirs; I only had to hand out a few. The only person I couldn't find was Zabini."

Ginny nodded, her eyes cast down.

"Do you know where he is?" Neville seemed to be trying to make small talk. Ginny looked up at him with tired eyes.

"Maybe getting his brains pickled, by now."

Neville stared at her, not understanding, and she swallowed the rest of the roll, which felt like a lump of glue on her tongue, before continuing.

"It was Defense Against the Dark Arts with the seventh years today."

"Oh…" Neville's eyes dawned in some comprehension. "He was…in trouble?"

"He refused to curse me," Ginny replied dully. "What'd you think the punishment for that is?"

Neville let out his breath slowly. "Nothing worse than what you got."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

She thought how Blaise must look now. "Neville, I'm…tired. I'm going to go to bed."

"Alright…" he looked a little anxious as she got up and trudged towards the stairs to the dormitory. She felt too lethargic to even think about the defense club at this point. All she wanted was to sleep…to force the images of Blaise's ruined face out of her mind for a few hours at least. And tomorrow she would have to find him and start thinking seriously about how to fix all of this. It was so broken she couldn't see where to start.

XxX

When Blaise still was nowhere to be found in the Great Hall the following morning, Ginny had to take matters into her own hands. Whatever plan she was going to form, she needed him, so finding where he had gone was a first priority.

She was reluctant to leave without breakfast since this would be the second meal in a row she was skipping, but she didn't think she could wait until lunchtime and the breaks between classes may not be long enough. But where could Blaise be?

It seemed very unlikely that he was still in his dormitory, so between that and the remote possibility that he was meeting with a teacher or sending off an owl, there was only one other place he could be…

She set off at a march for the hospital wing, a little disturbed by her own conclusion, but rather sure of it all the same. With the amount of damage he had already taken in addition to however he was punished yesterday, Blaise must be sick enough for bed-rest by now.

It would be weird to see Blaise in a bed. Ginny couldn't help but let that thought cross her mind as she skipped up the flights of stairs. Blaise was arrogant, cocky and proud. He didn't get sick or beaten. She should prepare herself for a very bizarre sight to meet her eyes.

And a bizarre sight did meet her eyes. But not the one she was expecting.

Ginny stood in the doorway of the hospital wing, but did not take a step into the room.

It was completely empty. Barren, almost, one could say. It wasn't like the room had been pillaged or anything like that, but the clean white sheets on the bed were untouched and neatly folded, and the windows on the walls were lazily opened, allowing fresh sunlight to stream in onto the unused bed stands. Even Madame Pomfrey was nowhere in sight and Ginny got no answer when she called out.

What did this mean? Were students who were tortured simply being patched up by the Carrows themselves before being shoved back into classes?

Ginny took one last look around the empty room full of beds like white coffins before slowly backing out and re-descending the staircase with slow, measured steps. She had been a patient in the hospital wing only a couple of days before. Of course, it was thoroughly possible that the school policy had changed since then, or even because of that incident, but it still didn't really make sense.

But that wasn't it. What was disturbing was if Blaise had been taken out of class for punishment and now was nowhere to be found, then where the hell was he?

No one had been reported as missing in the last few days, as far as Ginny could tell. Of course, if the Death Eaters were the ones getting rid of people then there might not be a report, but surely they would still make some kind of excuse?

The bell initiating the first class of the day tore through Ginny's thoughts and she hurried to History of Magic, hitching up her book bag. The absolute last thing she needed right now was to get in trouble for being late to class.

She let her thoughts wander all throughout Professor's Binns' lecture though, the only thing miraculously still unchanged in the new regime at Hogwarts. In her mind, Ginny ran down the list of places that Blaise could be for the thousandth time. She hadn't come up with any new epiphanies. Unless he was somewhere outside the castle walls, in the forest or in Hagrid's hut, there was really no other place she could think of. She decided that in any case, she might have just missed him the last day. If he wasn't here by dinnertime, then she could start to start to panic.

Dinnertime came and Ginny gave herself permission to start to panic.

It seemed like things were getting worse by the hour—at lunchtime, Ginny had tried to inquire with the Slytherins to see if any of them knew where Blaise had gone, but to her horror, all the Slytherins that were in the defense club were missing from the Slytherin table!

It was getting ridiculous, like some sick joke—members of the defense club were vanishing right and left as though simply being erased. Didn't anyone else notice what was going on?

Looking intently up at the long table of staff, where most of the members ate with their heads down, Ginny was relieved to see that her concern seemed to be shared at least with the Carrows. The two of them were not eating, but surveying the Hall and taking notes throughout the meal, and Ginny was fairly sure that she saw Amycus Carrow's eyes narrow as he regarded the Slytherin table that was only two-thirds full.

It was a relief that Carrow was in the dark as well; but at the same time, Ginny didn't like the idea that the entire school was in on some plot that only she and the Carrows didn't know about.

Ginny practically jumped on Neville when he entered the Hall for dinner, dragging him to the bench with his plate only half filled.

"Where is everyone?" she whispered urgently. "This isn't funny! Half the defense club members are missing! It's like they're just gone from the school!"

"The Slytherins, you mean," Neville was regarding the table on the other side of the Hall with a troubled expression. "All the other houses are still here."

"You don't know where they are, then?" Ginny's heart sank as Neville shook his head no, actually looking sorrowful that he couldn't give Ginny the answers she so badly wanted.

"I'm sure they're fine," he said, though he didn't sound too convinced of it.

"Yeah, sure. Because fine is what this new administration's all about, right?" Ginny couldn't stop herself from snapping, although she knew it would solve nothing. As far as she was concerned, Neville was simply not worried enough on behalf of the club members, and it was because they were Slytherins; she was sure of it.

"Ginny! Two Ravenclaws, three Gryffindors, three Hufflepuffs, and only one Slytherin has disappeared this year!" Neville sounded quite affronted. "If there's any problem with the regime, the Slytherins are the last to feel it; you can take my word!"

Ginny didn't want to take his word. Neville was a good friend, but these words were only grating on her nerves, which already felt like they were torn to shreds. She wished more than ever, that she could perform Legilimency really well. If she could, she could get into Blaise's mind right now, wherever he was, and find out how to help him…

Neville watched curiously as Ginny's head descended into exhaustion on the table. She hadn't eaten all day, and was probably just about ready to crash. He nudged her food towards her and awkwardly put a hand on her back. "Just eat something, all right? You look like you're dead on your feet."

When she looked up, her eyes were reddened in a way that unsettled Neville, but nodding, she said nothing more and slowly picked up her spoon.

Ginny practically fell asleep after eating dinner, such was her mental exhaustion combined with the sudden windfall of fuel after fasting for the whole day. She practically slept on Neville as he guided her back up through the portrait hole and into the dormitory.

She and Neville slumped into armchairs by the fireplace for a change, instead of their dark corner where it was less likely to be overheard.

"It seemed like the Carrows don't know where the Slytherins are, either," Ginny mumbled vaguely, getting sleepier with every moment. "I saw them taking notes at dinnertime. Unless it's some trick and they took them all away…"

"What could they possibly do with them?" Neville sounded skeptical. "Half of them are related to Ministry members. It makes no sense."

"Unless their parents had them taken out because it was too dangerous…"

"Ginny." Neville sounded serious. "I'm sure. They're. Fine."

He had no reasoning other than instinct, and Ginny wasn't sure this was good enough for her, but she didn't argue. The heat was making her terribly sleepy.

She supposed she must have dozed off at some point, because the next thing she knew, she was nestled deeply into the warm folds of the armchair, and someone was urgently shaking her awake.

"Whass—what's it?" Ginny groggily shook her head and opened her bleary eyes to find it was Neville again, suddenly looking thoroughly pumped with adrenaline. She couldn't tell what time it was; the common room was empty except for them, but the fireplace still had some embers so it couldn't be too late.

"Ginny! Just now—I was almost asleep too—"

"What're you talking about?" Ginny sat up, instantly on the alert, though her brain was still clogged with sleep and her eyes didn't want to open.

"The gal—look!" Neville shoved something round and golden in front of her face, and Ginny took ahold of the proffered galleon. It felt lingeringly warm, as though Neville had recently taken it out of an oven. She squinted at the dial, and her eyes widened as she saw what Neville was on about.

The date on the galleon read "4-2-94"

In other words, today.

"Neville…" Ginny looked up at his face that was shining with excitement in wonder. "Who changed this?"

"I have no idea," he babbled, taking the coin back from her and examining it himself again. "I was almost asleep when I just felt this burn. Most of the defense club members have one of these, but you're the one who's supposed to set the dates of the meetings. You didn't touch yours by accident, did you?"

Ginny shuffled frantically through her pockets, but only came up with a silver sickle and a bent quill. "I don't even have mine on me," she said. "I think I left it up by my bed. I forgot about it after yesterday's detention."

"Everyone in the defense club's coin must have burned just now," said Neville pensively. He looked up at Ginny excitedly. "Do we go now or later?"

Ginny started. She wasn't so sure she was even buying this whole thing and began to bite her lip pensively. "I don't know…we don't even know who set the date. It could be a trap…"

"How? I only gave these to the defense members!"

"But if one of them lost it…or if it was taken from them somehow…"

"The taker still wouldn't know what it did! C'mon Ginny, the rest of the club will see this in the morning and head down to the Room of Requirement as soon as they can; we have to go!"

Ginny looked at Neville's determined face and down at the coin. It just seemed so odd somehow, that this was happening all of a sudden.

"Neville, what's that?" she suddenly said, pointing at the galleon again.

"What?" he picked it up to examine the serrated edges that Ginny was pointing at.

"There's a message there! I can see it!" Ginny breathed, crouching next to Neville to squint at the thin, spindly letters that were almost invisible against the serial numbers. It was just one word:

Trunk

"Trunk?" Ginny echoed. She looked at Neville. A cold feeling was starting to creep up her arms.

"Neville…" Ginny's mind worked quickly as the pieces came together, and a bubble of either hope or fear was forming in her chest. "Neville, if we go there, I don't think we're coming back."

There was a thick pause as they both considered these words.

"You're sure?" Neville finally whispered.

"I think so. I think whoever sent this…" she trailed off, not knowing where that line of thought was leading. "Why else would they ask us to bring a trunk?"

Neville didn't look too sure, but the cryptic message made little sense either way, so it was the best guess they had. "We're still going?"

Ginny thought about Hogwarts. She thought about the corridors and the Christmas decorations and the Quidditch fields and the professors. She thought about the friends and the feasts and the ghosts.

Then she saw it all spoiled, blackened over with punishments and cruelty and the distortions of this year. Whatever was waiting in the Room of Requirement surely couldn't be worse…

"…Yes, Neville." Ginny gulped. "We're still going."

XxX

Ten minutes later, the two of them were back in the common room with the provisions they had decided to take, casting Muffliato all around them with every step.

"What about the rest of the Gryffindor defense members?" Neville whispered to Ginny as they began to make their way out of the portrait hole for what would be the last time. "When the Carrows find out we got away, they'll probably increase security here even more. They might not be able to get out!"

But Ginny shook her head. "This still could be a trap. I'm not bringing anyone along for this and risking their lives."

Neville fell silent and Ginny pulled out their two key necessities: the Invisibility Hats and Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder.

"I can't believe how genius Fred and George are," Neville whispered, taking the hat with a smile and a handful of the powder from Ginny. "Even if these look stupid…"

Ginny nodded. Fred and George's upgrade of Headless Hats to total Invisibility Hats had been a stroke of pure brilliance and an aid in countless exploits. In unison, the two of them placed the magenta, feathery hats over their heads and began to descend the landing outside the portrait hole.

Ginny kept her wand flickering from side to side as they walked, ready to cast Muffliato on anything that seemed remotely likely to move, though she and Neville were being very quiet as was. They were lucky that the dementors only reigned at the entrances, but still, Ginny's hand was sweating rather a lot, causing the powder in her hand to turn gradually to mud.

They made their way slowly up the staircases, on the way to the seventh floor rather uneventfully, as most of the portraits were asleep. Finally, in the corridor of tapestries and paintings, Ginny and Neville were about to make their way to the entrance of the Room of Requirement when they stopped.

There was a little light at the end of the corridor. It looked like the end of someone's wand: somebody was patrolling.

Ginny's heart nearly stopped and she grabbed Neville's hand immediately to stop any further progress he might try to make, though the gesture was unnecessary. Her eyes followed as the light moved, but it was only going back and forth, as if the person was pacing. Apparently they hadn't been seen yet. Ginny weighed their chances. This might be a set-up. On the other hand, maybe patrols were here because it was so crucial for Ginny to enter the Room of Requirement. In any case, backing off and returning to bed was out of the question at this point, as far as Ginny was concerned.

She measured the distance between the figure and themselves with her eyes. She could cast Muffliato, walk past the door to the room, and once they were in, there was nothing the patrol person could do. That didn't seem like a very solid plan, but it was the best she could think of. Ginny turned to where she knew Neville was, and though she knew he couldn't see her, she nodded and squeezed his arm. They were going forward. She heard his breath hitch, but as she took a step forward, he followed along quite steadily.

They made their way only three paces before it happened.

Ginny felt a strong gust of wind in the face, as though a whirlwind had forcefully struck her, and she suddenly became aware that she was no longer invisible. Looking to her left in shock, she saw that Neville was now also visible, eyes frozen open in shock and horror at the light at the end of the passage. Ginny followed his gaze and saw it, too: Alecto Carrow was the person patrolling.

"Ah—so thought you'd take a night stroll! Who's there?" Alecto screamed, and Ginny screamed, "RUN!" before dropping her handful of powder by instinct.

They were quickly surrounded by a gritty cloud of darkness and Ginny seized onto Neville and the two of them sprinted, enveloped by the echoes of Carrow's screams. "Students out of bed! I'll find you!"

Get us away from her! Ginny prayed as they ran. Please, I don't care where, just somewhere that she can't find us; where the Carrows can't get in; please, please, somewhere that the Carrows can't get us…

She ran headlong into a door and nearly broke her nose; the groaning noise at her side told her that Neville had also gotten hit. Without thinking, she grabbed the door's handle and wrenched it open, throwing Neville in first before stumbling after and slamming the door shut behind both of them.

And quite suddenly it was all over. The noise, the darkness, everything. Gone.

"Who's that?" a voice demanded imperiously, while another disarmed Ginny for what she felt like was the thousandth time.

Ginny looked up, vigorously rubbing the sooty powder out of her eyes, and fairly blinded by the lighting of the room.

"It's only Weasley!" said another voice and as tears helped to clear out Ginny's vision, she saw that she was fairly surrounded by a tall group of people in black robes with green hems. She blinked a few times to make sure she was seeing right and looked up into their faces.

She was in the Room of Requirement, all right. And it looked like she had found the missing Slytherins.


a/n

In the British system, dates are actually written as day/month/year, rather than month/day/year, the way we do in America. The British one makes a lot more sense if you ask me, but I figured more people would recognize the American one, so that was what I used on the galleon. But yeah, just heads up, it's April 2 in the story, not February 4.