This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokémon, which belong to the Pokémon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.
I thank both Rowling and the Pokémon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.
As planned they left their campsite the next day. They walked for hours, Ron carrying Hermione's bag as her shoulders continued to heal, before eventually they decided they'd travelled far enough away from the location of the Flame Plate to start searching once more.
As they began looking into possible locations for the Arceus Plates once again they were reminded that perhaps showing caution was for the best. Searching through the first few locations, bumped and bruised as they were from their previous adventure, they were in no position to attempt to retrieve another Plate. Both Lucario and Mismagius were still recovering, both badly injured, and while the fire type Pokémon were raring to go it was noticeable that the water types most definitely weren't.
The Flame Plate was clearly taking its toll.
"What do you reckon we do?" Ron wondered as he and Harry walked side by side through the trees of a forest, Hermione slightly further ahead with her head buried in Dumbledore's journal.
They had not found anything unusual so far, but Hermione seemed to be working on information she had yet to share with Harry and Ron, not that this was unusual. With so many sites to check it was clear that the criteria for Dumbledore taking note of a place was that at some point someone had mentioned something suspicious about it. Harry could already tell, just from walking through it, that people considered this forest to be haunted. It'd be their third haunted forest this week.
"I don't know," Harry told him. He gave a soft sigh, the frustration eating away at him. "We can't have a sixth of our Pokémon in poor shape but I honestly don't know how to help them. The lake water seemed to do them some good but that was only temporary."
Not long ago they'd been camped out near water. Harry was tempted to make that a common theme.
"It would be a little impractical," Ron noted when Harry voiced this thought. "There won't always be water nearby wherever we're searching. To be honest the only thing I can think of is to give the Pokémon some time away from the Plate. But how? We can't split up."
"Nor can we leave the Flame Plate somewhere that isn't a hundred percent secure," Harry agreed. "Even if Death Eaters don't find it some innocent little fire type would probably make off with it instead. Honestly the only place I feel is safe for the Flame Plate is with us."
"Do you reckon we can get the Plate back to Arceus?" Ron wondered. "Stop faffing around here and instead get it cleansed straight away and off our hands."
"We'd have to break into Hogwarts," Harry reminded him. "I know we think Snape is on our side but surely security has been heightened, they'll be expecting us to go back at some point. Plus Hogwarts is a long way away from where we are now."
"True," Ron grimaced. "I guess we'll just have to wait. Our Pokémon can handle it, they're tough. I just wish they didn't have to." He paused. "Hermione?"
Hermione had come to a stop. She was looking down at the journal in her right hand, glancing periodically to the map she held in her left, before she looked up and stared off into the trees.
"Is this it?" Harry wondered, stepping forward and looking around with a vague sense of disappointment at the seemingly completely normal forest.
Another dead end.
"Not quite," said Hermione, chewing her lip. "From what Dumbledore wrote here it seems as though the locals see this forest, or rather part of this forest, as having some sort of mystical properties."
"That's new," Ron commented with interest, stepping past where Hermione had come to a stop, turning as he walked to look up into the branches above. "Usually it's haunted."
"Yes, well, there appears to be a reason the locals prefer to believe in magic rather than ghosts," Hermione told them, consulting the journal carefully. Harry moved closer, looking over her shoulder. "Though they are well aware of the size and scope of this forest - you can see it's bordered by these cliffs over here - it is said that certain parts of the forest cannot be found."
"Cannot be found?" Harry repeated, confused.
"When people travel this forest they somehow find themselves restricted only to the outer reaches, the parts closer to civilisation and away from the cliffs," Hermione told him. "Dumbledore detailed the story of a man who apparently walked into the forest with a gps tracker, wandered around for hours, but found when he returned home that he never ventured too deep into the forest despite that being exactly where he was wanting to go."
"So you think there's something blocking people?" Harry wondered. "Not a physical barrier, that would be too obvious, but maybe some sort of psychic shield. Or perhaps a pocket of space like Meowstic can create, only on a massive scale."
"Perhaps," said Hermione. "Dumbledore was thinking along those lines. He even drew a rough outline of where the so called protected region was. Look." She showed the hand drawn diagram to Harry.
"Now, if you match up what Dumbledore drew with actual maps of the area the zone which we technically shouldn't be able to access should start around here." She looked up as she said this, allowing Harry to take a closer look at the maps, but as she did do she fell uncomfortably quiet.
"Harry."
Harry looked up.
The calm, empty forest had disappeared. Instead a fog had rolled in, so thick that they could see mere feet ahead of them, the calm silence of the forest now oppressively quiet.
"Where did this come from?" Harry murmured, his eyes sweeping over the mist, unable to see anything through its curtain.
Everything was very still.
Hermione's eyes widened sharply and she let out a gasp.
"Ron!" She cried out and she darted forward.
"Hermione, wait!" Harry called in alarm, trying to reach out and grab her as she moved away. But he was caught off guard, Hermione's sleeve slipping out of reach in a moment, and as Hermione disappeared into the mist Harry hurried after her. He pushed forward, desperate to catch up to Hermione before he truly lost track of her, and broke into a run.
But a few seconds later he found himself slowing to a stop. Hermione was nowhere to be seen.
Silence pressed in all around him.
"Hermione," he spoke, then he raised his voice. "Hermione!"
There was nothing. No call in response, no sign of movement, nothing. Everything was still and quiet.
"Ron!"
Harry shivered. The thick fog seemed to wash over him, dampening his clothes and his skin, and as he stood there panic began to settle in. This fog couldn't be real, it just couldn't. It had appeared so suddenly and spread so quickly that there was no way this was an accident.
Harry reached to his belt, a hand resting on Charizard's Pokéball as he felt the reassurance that he was not alone, and he gazed into the mist. They were under attack, that much was for certain, and though whoever it was attacking them was unknown Harry knew he had to be alert.
And most importantly of all he needed to find Ron and Hermione.
He stepped forward, each step cautious as he pushed further into the mist, or maybe he was leaving it. He had absolutely no idea which way he was going, completely disorientated, but it was better this than be a stationary target, a sitting duck. Sticks snapped beneath his boots and he flinched, the sound awfully loud when there was nothing else to hear, and he slowed again, alert as he gazed into his surroundings.
Then a figure began to emerge ahead of him and Harry came to a sudden stop. It was no more than a dark outline, no features distinguishable through the mist, and with a shaky breath Harry addressed it.
"Hello?"
The figure remained silent but even so something told Harry that it had heard him, even if only just. One thing was for certain, it wasn't Ron. Ron was much taller, his frame holding a very familiar posture that Harry had grown to recognise as clearly as his hair or face. It wasn't Hermione either. The figure was just slightly too tall.
Harry tightened his grip on Charizard's Pokéball.
"Show yourself," he commanded, his voice sounding braver than he felt. "I know you're there. Don't hide."
For a moment it seemed as though his words had no effect, everything remaining as still and silent as before.
And then the figure took a step towards him and her features began to come into focus.
Harry's grip on Charizard's Pokéball slackened.
"Ginny?"
Ginny Weasley stood before him, looking just as he remembered her, from the fiery red hair to her freckled cheeks to the jumper that had always been her favourite. Yet there was one thing Harry didn't recognise, something that tore into him as he gazed upon her, and that was her eyes.
The fire and determination was gone. It had vanished as though it had never been. And in its place lay nothing but despair. The usually warm chocolate-brown orbs looked cold and dead.
"Ginny?" Harry gasped, taking a step forward in spite of himself as he took in her appearance. "What happened?"
Ginny's eyes blinked slowly, as if only just able to make out the words as they crawled through the fog, and she raised her gaze to his.
Dread filled Harry's stomach.
"Mum and dad," she whispered, and her voice warbled painfully as tears began to form. "They… the Death Eaters got them. They took them and…" Ginny shook her head, closing her eyes in pain as the first tear began to fall.
"No," Harry whispered, unable to believe it as his heart shattered in his chest. Mr and Mrs Weasley couldn't be dead. Not them. "Ginny…" He took a step forward but Ginny raised a hand to stop him, eyes clenched tightly shut, and Harry fell still.
Harry stood there, unable to think what to do as he watched Ginny regain control of her emotions, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the ghost of stubbornness that usually made up so much of her personality, but as she looked up at Harry she allowed the tears to flow freely still.
"They came looking for you," she murmured, her voice distraught, her expression lost as she gazed upon him. "They recognised dad's van from when he rescued you and they knew you were staying with us. They found our address and…" Ginny's voice failed her.
"Ginny," Harry begged, pleading for her to tell him that it wasn't true, that it was all just some hilarious practical joke, but Ginny shook her head.
"They tortured them," she whispered, tears running freely down her cheeks. "Right in front of the fireplace. They tortured them to find out where you were. And they didn't know, of course, but that didn't stop them, they just moved on to me. They tortured me, right in front of them, used me…" Ginny's voice failed her again. "I am lucky to be alive."
"Ginny," Harry tried to speak but Ginny wouldn't let him.
"No, Harry, they humiliated me," she gasped, her voice angry now through the tears. "They beat and abused me, laughing at how they had Potter's girl, how they had yours… your precious love… And if it hadn't been for Charlie, hadn't been for his sacrifice, I'd still be there. Their plaything."
"Ginny, I'm so sorry," Harry gasped, pleading. "I never meant for any of this to happen, you have to believe me. I only wanted you safe, I only wanted all of you safe. This wasn't supposed to happen."
"But it did," Ginny gasped. "It did happen, despite your protections… we had no chance. We were cursed the moment we took you in."
"Ginny, no," Harry begged.
"Goodbye, Harry," she murmured, her voice teary as she turned away from him, strolling back into the mist.
"No!" Harry cried and as she disappeared he ran after her. "Ginny! Wait! Please!"
But Ginny had gone. She had disappeared into the fog like smoke on the wind, and no matter how much Harry rushed after where he thought she'd been all that met him was more fog, pressing down on him heavily and forcing him to a stop.
"Ginny," he gasped, tears running down his cheeks as he looked desperately into the thick, unmarked fog. "Please. Please come back."
But she would not come back. She had left him, and he would never find her again.
"Harry!" Harry wheeled around.
Hermione had suddenly appeared before him, her eyes swimming with tears herself but looking beyond relieved to see him as she threw herself into his arms. Harry looked around bewildered, unable to do much more as Hermione captured him in a bone crushing hug, his brain struggling to play catchup at her sudden reappearance.
"Hermione, what…?" He gasped but Hermione wasn't listening, too busy sobbing into his shoulders she murmured repeatedly under her breath.
"You're alright," she whispered, rocking backwards and forwards before looking up to face him. "You're alright. I thought…"
Harry had no idea what was going on. But the smallest hopes sprung to mind.
"Have you seen Ginny?" He asked urgently, grabbing hold of Hermione's shoulders and forcing her to look him directly in the eye. "Hermione, have you seen Ginny?" Hermione looked confused.
"Ginny?" She murmured. "But why…?"
"She's here, she's in this forest," Harry told her frantically, turning away to look off into the fog with renewed purpose. "I saw her but she… she ran. Something bad happened, something terrible. The Weasleys… Charlie, her mum and dad, they're dead." He fell silent, unable to continue.
Hermione was looking at him with wide eyes.
"But then she ran off," Harry gasped, his voice returning to him as quickly as it had left. "She ran and because of this damn fog I can't find her. Hermione, you have to help me find her, you have to…"
"Flamethrower!"
A blast of fire sizzled towards them and Harry and Hermione ducked on instinct, the flames burning through the fog above them as another figure arrived on the scene.
It was Ron.
"Where is she?!" He roared, spit flying from his mouth, his face a mask of rage as he looked around with wild, crazed eyes. Arcanine stood by his side, growling menacingly. "Where is that psycho?!"
"Who?" Hermione gasped, taking a step back at Ron's fearsome expression.
"Bellatrix!" Ron spat. "She's here. I saw her. She… she killed my family. She killed them." Harry went pale.
"She can't be here," he gasped, panicked. "Ginny's here. I saw her." Ron's expression turned to shock. "We've got to move. We can't let Bellatrix find her."
"No, wait!" Hermione cried, stopping them short as both boys prepared to run off into the fog, grabbing ahold of their sleeves as she did so. "No, we can't do this. We can't."
"Hermione, that's my sister!" Ron roared.
"It's not real!" Hermione cried, her voice ringing shrilly through the air. "Can't you see, none of this is real."
"Hermione?"
Hermione cut across him.
"Bellatrix isn't here," she told them, grabbing hold of his arm tightly and shaking it as she tried to convince him. "And Ginny isn't here either." She looked between them. "This is a trap, our minds are playing tricks on us. We're being distracted."
"But Ginny…" Harry started but Hermione shook her head.
"She's not here, Harry, she never was," she told him, her voice high as she begged for them to understand. "This is all in your head, Harry. This is your worst fear realised, your mind made this up and everything you're afraid of has been projected before you to trick you into believing it's happened."
Ron looked at her, his expression pained as he tried desperately to understand. "How can you be so sure?" He pressed. "How do you know?"
"Because," Hermione stammered, and tears began forming in her eyes once more. "Because I was told the two of you were dead."
Hermione's words hit Harry like a truck. He ducked his head, raising a hand as if to hold in the pressure that was building inside it as his mind went to war with itself. Was this real? Was this not?
"I was told you were dead and now I can see you're not and that is how I know that everything you've seen is false," Hermione told them desperately, tears dripping from her eyes. "The Weasleys aren't dead, Bellatrix didn't kill them, and Ginny was never here. I promise."
"Hermione," Ron murmured and he stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her as the girl buried her head in his chest, the tears flowing freely into his shirt as Ron held her close, gently rubbing her back in an effort to calm her.
Slowly but surely Hermione's hiccups began to clear and she pulled her face clear from Ron's chest.
"I should have known something was wrong when I saw Professor McGonagall," she murmured, eliciting a light chuckle from Ron. "There was no logical reason for her being here but when she told me… only once I saw you again did I realise that things weren't adding up."
"But you did," Ron said softly, looking down on her with pride. "You worked it out. Though for the life of me I still don't understand why this happened."
"This fog was designed to separate us," Hermione told him. "Once alone we were targeted, shown our worst fears to try and break us. For you it was that you couldn't protect your family from Bellatrix. For me it was losing the two of you. And for Harry…" she fell quiet as she turned to him, her eyes filled with sorrow. "It was being the reason everyone died."
Harry swallowed painfully. He couldn't deny it, it was too truthful to pretend otherwise, but still he found himself struggling to accept what she'd told him.
"You're sure about this?" He asked, his voice scratchy as he spoke. "You're sure it wasn't real?" Hermione nodded.
"It's November, Harry," she told him. "Ginny will still be at Hogwarts. She's safe."
A/N: And that's all for this chapter. If you enjoyed then please leave a Review, it means a lot to hear your feedback, and follow me on Twitter for further updates.
I'm going on holiday soon so this will be my last update for a few weeks. Again, follow my Twitter for updates and I'll see you soon.