A/N: Unsub means UNknown SUBject (Person of Interest really)

Ginny

"Ginny, supper will be ready in a few minutes." Mum says from my door. I nod and watch as she ducks into my room. It's been a pretty rough week, for one, my mom was diagnosed with chronic anxiety and paranoia, sounds simple but, this is why she had the chills and a fever last week. The healers had told Dad that anxiety and paranoia can have that effect on people; causing them to actually become physically ill. You learn something everyday.

All my brothers were home in England for the first time since the war, or maybe my funeral, I can't be sure. The Harpies had paid me a few visits to welcome me home from Northumberland and the DA all joined us for a large Sunday dinner. But, out of all of these visits and dinners, one person has been absent; Harry.

I know, I hurt him; I didn't tell him what was going on a year ago and I didn't tell him when it started to happen again. I thought I was being clever; wouldn't it be impressive if the victim solves their own case? But, no; I've realized now that I made a mistake and I've never seen him so mad at me

"Just give it time, Gin; he doesn't love you any less; he's just a little frustrated with the situation." Hermione would tell me over and over, but it never calmed me down. If he was 'frustrated with the situation' he would still come around and at least check to see if I was okay. No, he's frustrated with me.

"I mean, yeah, you kind of messed up but it's a common mistake that victims make. Harry just thought that it wouldn't be as complicated and this whole note thing is making it complicated." Ron's common thoughts would be to me after dinner.

"Can I just see him to apologize?" I would ask.

"No; he has to come here. You're not allowed to leave." Ron would always reply.

I just want to apologize. I don't care if he's decided that he doesn't want anything to do with me, but I, at least, want to make amends over my ammature mistake. I stand up from my bed and stretch my shoulders; my days have consisted of eating, locking myself in my room, reading the same book and napping. Two days ago, aurors had startled me and confiscated the Hogwarts textbook that had the note inside; luckily it was still there. They didn't tell me otherwise, but that's good, right? It's the same handwriting as the note that was sent to me about three months ago and if they perform their little techniques on it I'm sure they can see it was created at the same time as my story.

If a red flag just went up in your mind, don't worry; I told the truth, the whole truth, during my interview with Harry. But, with how this case has gone, it would only be my luck if they found that the notes weren't plausible. I walk down the steps and look toward the table to see who will be joining us for dinner. Everytime I come downstairs for dinner, I secretly hope that Harry will be sitting at that table, but everyday I'm let down.

Ron and Hermione smile up to me, it's not returned, then George and Angie, Bill and Fleur with Dom's baby carrier between them and Victoire sitting, really squirming, to Fleur's right. Along with them comes Percy, Audrey, Molly, Charlie, and lastly, my mum and dad. It's like it's a normal, Weasley Sunday dinner. But, if it was normal, I would have come in late from Holyhead and Harry would be sitting in one of those two, empty, consecutive chairs. I take my seat and the crowd starts to eat, knowing that I hate it when they stare at me like a new puppy.

I take a small spoonful of mashed potatoes, and a small piece of chicken and line them on my plate. I think that's enough. I lean my head on my hand and puncture my chicken with my fork.

"You put yourself in there." Harry's voice rings through my head. I look down at my chicken and realize how nauseous it makes me feel. The saddest part of all of this is that I agree with him. If I had just told them what had really happened, would I be in the situation I'm in now? They probably would have caught the man by now and Harry and I, well, we probably wouldn't be in the position we are.

"Ginny, we have a dress fitting on tuesday, do you think you can still make it?" I nod; I know, earlier Ron said that I couldn't leave the Burrow, but the truth is, I can. It's a very, long, tedious process. I have to submit the request about a month in advance, I have to get the manager or owner to sign off on it, in this case the store owner. After that, my mother has to sign a long form that gives her permission and promises her companionship with me during my leave; she's coming with me. Then Angie has to get the whole group to sign a form saying that they're going to be with me on this little outing. And then, to top it all off, an auror is assigned to watch us from a distance; basically, to make sure that no suspicious business is happening around us.

"How are the wedding plans coming along, Angie?" Hermione asks from the other side of the table.

"They're coming along, slowly, but are still coming along." She glances at George and he gives her one of his infamous smirks, "I'm just ready to get the day over with and be married to this goof."

I watch them; I watch how their hands are intertwined between their plates, how they look at each other when the other one is speaking. Were Harry and I like that? I mean, I know all of my brothers would give us grief for being too 'gooey' in front of them, but I never thought that were that bad.

"We all wish you the best of luck, Angie; marrying George is like offering up yourself as bait to a Hungarian Horntail." Bill comments before taking a sip of his butterbeer.

Everyone chuckles at Bill's comment before Angie runs her hand through her fiance's hair, "I don't thinks so; I think it's agreeing to go to a comedy club for one hundred percent of you life."

All of my brothers roll their eyes, Ron throwing a few peas their way. But, I'm not giving them a hard time; I'm happy they're so sure about each other. I'm happy they have been given the chance to have an uncomplicated future.

"So, I spoke to Harry this morning," My father says out of the blue. Immediately, I look up to him with wrapped attention, "Molly, he says that he can't find Teddy's books; he was wondering if Teddy left them here the last time he stayed here." I can feel my gut drop when there's no message from him to me.

"I don't know, dear, I can look; Teddy was so wound up that day, they could be anywhere. Ginny, do you have any idea where the books could be?" I shake my head and play with my mashed potatoes.

"Hey, Gin." Hermione says, taking a seat next to me in the living room.

I glance at her and then back to the fire, "Hey, 'Mione."

"You didn't each much at dinner; are you feeling well?"

"I feel fine." She nods and leans back against the sofa.

"I know how you're feeling."

I subtly shake my head, "No, you don't; Ron's in the other room and he's talking to you. I'm in the dog house and probably going to stay there for a long time."

"I don't think so." She says, "I think Harry's feeling just as horrible about snapping at you as you are with keeping secrets from him."

"No; you didn't see his eyes. He's really angry with me." I sigh, "And it's obvious he still is, since he hasn't even come around to check up on me."

"Gin, he's trying to keep his distance; Harry and Ron just got approved to be back on the case and he doesn't want to be distracted from finding this man."

"Oh, so I'm a distraction?" I snap.

"I think you're the distraction he's had since he was sixteen years old. That kind of distraction that made him skive off from studying and go to the Great Lake for an 'enjoyable' afternoon."

"He did that a lot, didn't he?"

"Yeah, he did. But, I don't think you were a negative distraction; if anything, you distracted him from everything that was brewing. And that's what you were doing when he was first on the case."

"I just want to see him and apologize." I finally blurt out. She looks at me with sad eyes.

"I'll try to get him here for you. I think it will do you both some good."

"What would do good for who?" Ron asks, three butterbeers in hand.

"Harry and Ginny, if they finally talk after what, two weeks of silence?" Ron presses his lips together like he doesn't think that's the best idea.

"I don't know about that Hermione; Harry was very clear that he wants to have some time to himself."

"So, he's just going to coward out of facing Ginny after he screamed at her for being scared to tell him something?" Hermione asks, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "Ironic, really."

"Hermione, don't tell me you're mad at him too."

"Well, aren't you?" She asks her boyfriend in disbelief.

"Do I like that fact that he let my sister have it in front of a room full of people; obviously not. But, do I feel like I should completely hate him for it; not really. I mean, I'm on your side, Gin; I think he needs to realize how hard it is for you, but at the same time, I think he feels betrayed that he let you in on everything in his life; you would know every detail about his day, but you didn't tell him you were being stalked. Did you not trust him?" His eyes now on me.

"Of course, I trusted-I mean, trust him. I wasn't sure what was going on, and you know Harry, if I brought something like this up to him he would be all over it and would have a team of aurors following me every second of every day." I argue, "Plus, these notes weren't threatening, even that last one wasn't all that threatening; I didn't think that this would all happen."

Ron rubs his eyes, "You still should have reported it."

I roll my eyes, how many times have I heard that in the past two weeks? "Oh, really, Ron? I've never heard that before."

"I'm just trying to understand what had happened." I breath out through my nose and take another sip of my butterbeer.

"I'll get Harry over here, Ginny." Hermione interjects, "I'll steal his glasses if that's what it takes." I look to her and break out in a giggle. Ron's eyes tear to his girlfriend in shock, soon sniggers break out from his throat.

"Honestly, Hermione, if he doesn't want to come over here, don't force it." I say after the laughter stops, "I don't want him to find me any more annoying than I already have made myself to be."

Getting here has been a process; I mean, I knew it would be, but this is chaos to a whole new level. First, everyone had to meet up at the Burrow, that had been planned. But, before any of us could floo away, the auror who had been assigned for this outing had pat us all down, as though we were convicts, and pulled out a portkey. We portkeyed to the lobby of the dress shop about ten minutes late, and we thought that the security was over. No, the auror then had to ask for all of the staff to come out and answer a few questions about keeping us safe.

I felt horrible for the staff members-actually, scratch that-I felt horrible for myself who had been pointed to be the reason they need to go through this security check. Only a couple of people had recognized me, either from my Quidditch career or my face that had been sprinkled across every news article for the past year.

But, finally, we are now in separate dressing rooms, trying on the dress design that Angelina chose about three weeks ago. It's a dark blue, chiffon, strapless dress with a folded torso. There's no lace, no buttons, no jewels, just straight chiffon, and I love it. I have always found that the simpler the dress, the better.

I leave my little room to show off what the dress looks like on me, it's okay fitting, I guess. Well, let me backtrack; it fits fine, but I don't look that great in it. I'm just too thin now; too boney, too frail-looking. If we had been doing this a year ago, I don't think I would even bat an eye at how I look it in; not that I think I was perfect back then, but I definitely was more comfortable in my skin.

"You look beautiful, Ginny." Katie Bell compliments me as she leaves her dressing room. I smile at her and then look back to me in the mirror.

"Thanks, Katie. You look beautiful yourself." I gesture to her in the same dress as me but in black.

"I really like Angie's idea of a 'starry night' theme. I just hope the white dress and purple dress mesh well with our dresses."

"I'm sure they will, and if they don't, they'll just put us in an order,so it's not as noticeable."

"Is Harry one of the groomsmen?" She asks, brushing off the top of her skirt. I glance at her then back to my dress.

"Yeah," I answer, she doesn't know anything about what has been going on with the case and, well, our relationship-if there is one. "I think they've already tried their dress robes on."

"The day is coming so fast," She sounds breathy, "I feel like I'm about to lose my best friend. I mean, that's silly, she's just changing her last name, but marriage is such a big step. I guess I thought George and Angelina would be the last people to settle."

"Yeah, I felt the same way," and then I went missing and came back to find a ring on Angie's finger, "but I guess they just really love each other."

But, I see that Katie is now looking behind me. I turn around and see Angelina walking out of the curtain with a long, satin dress. It's strapless with three ribbons around the waist; one black, one blue, one purple. There is a dusting of silver glitter that runs down the skirt of the gown and it displays the same torso that we have. I'm speechless as I look at her smiling in the mirror.

"Angelina!" One of her cousins screech in a very girly way. She jumps up and down and claps her hands. "You look absolutely gorgeous!"

"Thanks, Miriam." Angie smiles, beaming head to toe.

"You have one more month, Angelina! You're about to be a Weasley!" Katie follows in suit with Angie's work mate. The upcoming bride looks at me with joy and I supply her with a simple, excited smile.

She sighs, happily, "I can't wait."

"-went on for hours debating on whether the old statue should be completely demolished or kept as an artifact of history. But, the way Kingsley and I see it is that if we keep that statue anywhere in the Wizarding World then it's still promising power to the remaining Death Eaters."

"So, are they going to keep it or are they demolishing it?"

"We haven't come to the conclusion; half of the governors want to keep it in a museum or even just a solitary room in the Ministry, whilst the other half plus Kingsley and I want to destroy it. I mean, it's not very welcoming to muggle borns to know that there is a statue somewhere in the Ministry that represents stomping them out."

I listen to my dad with wrapped attention, "I think it should be obliterated off the face of the Earth if you ask me." My parents look at me and crack a smile.

"We're right there with you; but it seems some high class governors disagree."

"They're probably scared of change, or admitting that their old ways of thinking were wrong." Mum reasons.

"Probably, Molly, but when it comes to a select few, I think their thinking hasn't changed at all."

"Well, are you two finished with dinner?" My mum asks, grabbing her plate and standing up.

"Yeah, darling, I'll help you." My dad responds, grabbing his plate and my plate off of the table. I stand up, thank my mum for dinner and then climb back up the staircase to my room.

I sit back onto my windowsill with my pillow hugged to my chest. It's now been three weeks since I was released from Northumberland but it feels like it was only yesterday. Being stuck in this house has made all of the days mosh together and I can't tell you the specific date even if you showed me a calendar. But, I do know it's a Friday; because my dad commented on the fact that he'll finally be able to sleep in tomorrow morning.

I look out the window toward the Quidditch pitch my dad had built for us one Christmas. That was one of the biggest presents we had ever gotten; next to Errol. I remember waking up in the morning and being a little disappointed as I saw absolutely no presents under the tree. I think we all were a little despondent. But, when my dad told us to follow him outside, and we finally saw the big present for Christmas, I don't think anyone of us cared that it was the only thing we had gotten. I mean, along with the six hoops and a two meter long bench came a set of balls, and four broomsticks. Bill and Charlie had had their own broomsticks before then, the other four when to Percy, Fred, George, and Ron.

Of course, I didn't get one due to the fact I was still three or four. Or at least that's what my parents told me; I know it really had to do with money, and how much it put a dent in my parents' vault. I had my toy broomstick inside but I wasn't allowed to ride it outside. Something that I hadn't understood then, but now, watching Teddy ride around the Burrow's living room on his, makes me completely understand and stand by my parents firmness over keeping that bloody thing inside.

A dot appears in the sky. I can't tell what it is but I can tell it's heading toward the house. It grows bigger, and bigger, and soon there's a definition of wings. I squint my eyes as I see the approaching owl. That's strange; it's not Errol, or Pigwidgeon. As it flies closer, I notice it's not going to the kitchen window where owls usually go.

I get up from the window seat and take a few steps back from the glass. Before I know it, my back is up against the wall as the owl viciously taps on my window; his wings spread out to his sides. I slowly walk to the frame and lift it open. The owl spits the note into the room before turning and flying away.

I can feel a lump in my throat form as I pick up the discarded envelope from my carpet. After tearing open the package I read:

I'll see you again. Visit me at my favorite place. I'll be waiting.

"Mum!" I call out, leaning onto the railing of the stairwell.

"Yes?"

"Floo Harry. Tell him it's an emergency."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm not sure, just floo Harry!" I go back to my room and reread the note. This time I'm not going to keep it to myself. I'm not going to mess up this time. It's not long before I hear the flames in the fireplace and a new voice from downstairs. There's sounds of footsteps on the staircase and then, before I know it, he's in the doorway.

"What's wrong?" He seems worried, like he had expected to see me dead on the floor.

I hold up the note and he immediately snatches it from my hands. I watch as he reads it; maybe two or three times.

"When did you get this?" He looks up at me with dark eyes.

"Just now, I swear."

He surveys the note once more before meeting my eyes once again, "Where is his favorite place?"

"I honestly don't know." I reply.

"Come on; we're going to the auror department."

I sit, not in the interrogation room, but in Harry's cubicle. I remember countless lunches we've eaten in here for fun in the past years. He sits back into his chair and reads over the file in his hands, I'm guessing it's my own. I sit, in my own discomfort, watching as he compares the note side by side with whatever is in that manila folder.

His eyes flash to me and then back to the file. I redirect my eyes to my hands and then look around the cubicle. Gray, dull, boring. Yeah, it's the same cubicle we ate countless lunches in. He has everything in an organized, spit-spot manner, except a picture frame, that's lying face down on the desk behind him.

"Potter, what in the hell do y-" Robards voice sounds from the doorway, I turn around and our eyes meet, "-I mean, what do you need me for?"

Harry looks up from the folder, "Looks like the unsub has reached out once more." Robards clears his throat and moves behind Harry to read the note that was sent to me.

Robards' intense eyes land on me, "Where is his 'favorite place'?"

"I don't know; honestly. He never told me anything about his favorite things." He grabs the folder from Harry and scans over it.

Harry studies me before starting to pace along the wall, "Okay, well, maybe it's a place that he visited you a lot. Did he ever mention any areas he would see you at before the attack?"

"Just the matches."

"Okay, so the Pitch. There's a possibility it's the Pitch."

Robards' gruff voice sounds once more, "That wouldn't make any sense; it's too public, if he wants Ginny to meet him somewhere, it wouldn't be where he can get caught." He closes the folder and puts it down on the desk.

"Yes, but he may think that's a place where Ginny can go. Anyhow, think about it, he was able to catch Ginny there once, he may be trying to recreate that." I watch as Harry reasons with his boss.

"That would be a stupid move, if you're insinuating that he'd try and re-kidnap Ginny at the exact same place he kidnapped her before."

"He may not be all that bright. Plus, with different disorders, they identify with patterns; to him it might seem as though that's the place to meet her again."

"So, if it is the Pitch, what should we do about it? Send Ginny there to get him to be there too? That may just about work."

"No; I never said that-"

"Yes, but, Potter, that may be the way to go; if he sees his prize, he'll let his guard down and we'll be able to snatch him."

"Yeah, and then let her go missing again in the process?"

"We can have aurors put the place on lockdown after her gets there and then catch him before he can do anything to her."

"Absolutely not; that's jeopardizing the victim's safety."

"Not if we have her under every protective charm in the book, and there are over a hundred aurors on the scene, she'd be totally secure."

"How about we put in a place holder? You know, a girl who looks like Ginny but is a trained auror."

"No, we need the actual Ginny for this to go smoothly."

"How about Polyjuice Potion? We can have one of the female aurors take Polyjuice Potion to disguise herself as Ginny, that way we're not putting Ginny at risk, and the 'victim' we're putting out there has been trained to defend themselves."

I feel a punch to my chest as I hear Harry insinuate that I can't defend myself. That's rich coming from the man who actually trained me to do just that.

"Let's just schedule a meeting for tomorrow afternoon and we'll get our game plan then." Robards says with one last grunt before striding out of the cubicle. I'm now left alone with Harry and, well, awkward tension in this place. I turn back around to him and see him staring at me. Immediately, I feel my stomach tie in knots and, oh what a surprise, my face goes red under his deterring eyes.

"Come on." He says grabbing his black jacket from the back of his chair. I nod, and follow him out of the cubicle. We walk in silence down the hallway and into the elevator. He stands, with his hands in his pockets as the elevator drives us forward and then to the right. The only sound is the creaking from the light above us but he seems completely oblivious to it. After minutes of disturbing silence, the elevator door opens to the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. He starts to walk down the marble halls, I stay by his side.

But, strangely enough, we pass the floo gates without stopping. And before I know it, he's leading me to the exit to Muggle London.

"Harry? Where are you taking me?" I ask, nervously.

"You're with a fully qualified auror, I think you'll be okay." He says, off handedly. I flicker my eyes to him and decide not to ask anymore questions. We walk down the cement sidewalks of Muggle London until we stop in front of a Muggle van that's parked at a sidewalk. Curious. I follow Harry's lead and walk to the side of it and see an opened window with a colorful board hanging beside it.

Rocco's Food Truck

"What would you like?" Harry asks, nodding to the menu.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you want to eat?"

"Wait, you buy food here?" I ask, scanning the wide, pink van.

"That's why they call it a 'food truck'." He looks down at me with a serious yet, maybe, humorous expression.

I shake my head, "I already had dinner." He raises his eyebrows at me before turning back to the window where a man is leaning on the frame with a plastic nappy-looking thing on his head and latex gloves on his hands.

"Two franks." He orders. He turns to face me and I glance at him before watching the man pull two franks from the pot on his little, portable, muggle stove.

"Here you are." The man serves the food and we find a bench a couple blocks away to sit. He unwraps one of the franks and bites into it, watching the muggle cars go by.

"So, you've started to branch out on your private menu, haven't you." He stops chewing for a second and wipes his mouth. I gulp; maybe that's not the best conversation starter, "I mean, it's not bad, I just never thought you'd buy and then eat food from a car." I feel the unsettling lump in my throat quiver and I look away from his unadulterated gaze.

"Look," He says, as he finishes off his frank and balls the foil into a ball, "to say I'm not angry with you, would be a lie." I squeeze my eyes shut, afraid of what is to come, "But," He starts, "at the same time, I'm not angry at all; I really shouldn't be in the first place." I furrow my eyebrows and look to him once more, his gaze is now on the curb and he's rolling the aluminum ball back and forth in his hands, "I think I'm just angry at what's happened to you, what's happened to all of us. I mean, the war has been over for four years, I'm twenty-one years old for Merlin's sake. Life is supposed to be peaceful, easier, now that all of that hell is over."

"Agreed."

"But, here we are, still fighting the Bludgers that come our way." He starts to shake his head and his eyes finally look at me, now, it's not in a hard way, but a meaningful, emotional way, "I don't want to be angry anymore, Ginny. I don't want to work as long anymore. I want to go home, and spend time with my godson. I want to be able to relax and wind down after a regular, nine to five day." He pauses and our eyes lock once more, "I want to go back in time to that summer, when that was the life I had."

"Then in tomorrow's meeting, vouch for me to go to the Pitch." He hands push off of his knees and he rubs his forehead, "Please, Harry, I know how to defend myself. Plus, you all can be there too, in the darkness hiding from him. I can do it, plus I'd be able to calm him down and delay him. Some girl in disguise can't do that; especially if she doesn't know anything about him."

"Ginny, it's not about whether you can defend yourself or not; it's about keeping you safe, and you going to the Pitch to lure him there too is-well, it's risky."

"I like risk. Who doesn't like risk?"

"It's not up for discussion. I won't allow you to go and offer yourself up as bait. End of story." I open and then close my mouth and look away, shaking my head, "Why are you fighting with me on this? Can't you see the danger? It's obvious." Funny, we've seen to switch roles on the matter of giving ourselves up for the greater good.

"I just want to help catch him. I mean, I've delayed the investigation enough already, I just want to help close it completely."

"You've done enough." He says simply throwing the ball of aluminum in the trash. He stands up with the other frank in hand. "Let's get you home." He offers his arm to me with a peaceful look on his face. I hesitantly accept it and start to walk with him down the cement sidewalk.

"Will you let me know what happens in the meeting tomorrow?" I ask as I stand on the front porch with him.

"Maybe." He says, seriously.

I nod, "Thank you for, you know, talking to me, finally."

"Well, Hermione had been bugging me all week about it, I just wanted to do it in my own time. But, looks like this John Doe pushed me to it." I nod and look up to the moon that is shining, full, tonight. "Here." He says putting the other frank in my hand.

"In case you get hungry." He walks off of the porch and to the apparation site. Eat this grub? No, thank you.

I walk inside and set it on the counter. At least we broke the ice today. I walk into the living room where my mum is reading by the fire, "Enjoy your night?"

I silently snort and smile, "In a way."

"Well go up and shower, then off to bed with you."

I nod and leave the room. After showering and putting on fresh clothes I listen as my mum climbs up the stairs and shuts her bedroom door behind her. I sneak back down the kitchen and lean against the counter, staring at it.

He seemed to like; and he's a pickier eater than I am. I tap my fingers on the wood before giving in. I mean, one frank doesn't hurt.