Misguided Ghosts
"I am going away for a while
But I'll be back don't try and follow me
Cause I'll return as soon as possible"
Paramore
January 5th, 2002
It was not supposed to be this deadly. Dangerous, sure—all their assignments were. This was a fucking war.
But not this dangerous. Not so dangerous that only fourteen of twenty six made it back home that night.
Arthur, Bill, Charlie, Ginny and Fred Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Padma and Parvati Patil, Seamus Finnegan, Susan Bones, Alicia Spinnet, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Augusta Longbottom, Fleur Delacour, Filius Flitwick, Tonks Lupin, Angelina Johnson, Lee Jordan, Minerva McGonagall, Dean Thomas, Alastor Moody, Remus Lupin, Katie Bell, Draco Malfoy, and Harry Potter were a part of the biggest team the Order of the Phoenix had ever deployed at once.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had long since been abandoned. The war had reached its height and Dumbledore refused to take any students, now that the situation had become so dire. It served as a safe-house for the Order now—a last-chance fortress used only in the most deadly of circumstances. And Severus Snape had gained word that Death Eaters were to infiltrate it.
"I'm not completely sure how many," he'd said a week before, "But it will not be a small group. Ten at the least, two-dozen at the most. Maybe even including me. The Dark Lord is sending them to search for something in that castle, Dumbledore, but I do not know what."
Dumbledore had sat at the head of the table, hands folded on the pock-marked wood, silent and thoughtful for a moment. "Well, Severus," he said quietly, at last, "I imagine he's looking for a horcrux."
There had been a collective gasp from the older members of the Order, though the younger ones present looked at each adult, confused. "Excuse me, sir," Cho Chang said timidly, "But what is a… a horcrux?"
"The details are not important," Dumbledore had said with a peaceful wave of his hand. "All we need to know is that Voldemort will want this horcrux very badly, and will make sure he retrieves it before we do. So, naturally, we must retrieve it first. Kingsley." He'd turned to the wizard, who had overseen most of the training and practice drills that the younger Order Members took part in. "Assemble a team of at least twenty-five Order members for this assignment by tomorrow morning, if you please. And, with no offence to you all," Dumbledore said with a kind smile, "I would prefer to have only the most experienced wizards and witches and best duellists on this team."
Harry had wanted to be part of it from the start. There was no question about it. His name was first on Kingsley's roster.
Ginny remembered briefly considering pleading him to stay back at Order Headquarters but quickly dismissed the idea, knowing that once Harry put his mind to something, it was nearly impossible to convince him otherwise. She wasn't sure what it was about this particular assignment, but it chilled her bones in a way that none other did. She didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified that she was on that roster, as well.
The night before the assignment, she and Harry had laid in bed together and he held her hand tightly under the blankets while her head rested against his shoulder. "Are you worried?" he had asked her, his thumb stroking her skin lightly. "For tomorrow?"
"Yes," she'd answered him honestly. "I really wish none of us had to go."
He'd chuckled at that. "I really wish that none of us had to fight a war, but that's obviously not going to change very soon."
"It's such a miracle that neither of us has gotten injured yet," she had whispered and Harry laughed.
"You're my little miracle," he told her, and she couldn't help but smile, turning to place a kiss on his neck.
"Do you know what a horcrux is, Harry?" Ginny asked him curiously, and his face turned serious.
"Unfortunately," he replied.
"Can you tell me?"
Harry sighed, but complied. "It's the reason Voldemort's so powerful, why he came back. Horcruxes have a piece of a person's soul in them, and as long as he's got a horcrux hidden somewhere, he can't truly die. Dumbledore thinks he has six, so his soul is split in seven."
Ginny shuddered—the thought of Voldemort that powerful, that seemingly invincible, scared the shit out of her. Plus, the notion of splitting one's soul—that was dark magic, no doubt about that. Frightening, evil magic that made shivers dance down her spine.. "Do you know what any of them are?"
"Dumbledore's destroyed one already—a ring that Voldemort's grandfather used to wear. And he thinks another one is a locket that once belonged to Salazar Slytherin. Based on what he knew about Voldemort, he thinks that there's one from each house, excluding Gryffindor. And… the diary. That was a horcrux." Harry turned to face her, watching her reaction carefully.
"So the Tom that I wrote to… that was a piece of his soul?" Ginny asked, repulsed. "It wasn't just a memory?"
Harry nodded sombrely. "That's what Dumbledore says."
So that's what they spoke about during their meetings. Harry and Dumbledore were often missing, disappeared into the former-Headmaster's room for what they called "private lessons". Ginny had originally thought that they were practising spells that would help him defeat Voldemort but never thought to ask, deciding that if Dumbledore wanted anyone to know what they talked about in there, he would have said so outright or told Harry it was okay to speak of it.
"And Dumbledore thinks that there is one of these… horcruxes… in Hogwarts? And the Voldemort wants to retrieve it?" the youngest Weasley asked, and Harry nodded.
"Exactly," he replied. "We're hoping that the Death Eaters will lead us right to it, but if not, we might just have to get rid of them all and then look for it afterwards."
"If the horcrux was in the school all along, why haven't we been looking for it?"
"Dumbledore was never really convinced that Voldemort had a horcrux in Hogwarts, but he says this is proof now. There's no other reason that Voldemort would go back to the school; or send people to go back to the school, I guess."
"I still don't understand. How are we supposed to find it if we don't even know what it is?"
"Well, Dumbledore has a few guesses that he's shared with me. Also, he thinks that because of the sort of… connection I share with Voldemort, it should be easy to find the horcrux."
"I don't like this horcrux business," Ginny told him. "It sets my teeth on edge.
"Me neither, Gin," Harry said, squeezing her hand lightly, "But what can we do?"
' ' '
June 27th, 2002
"Draco?" Hermione said, looked up from her breakfast.
"Yes?" he answered, slightly worried. There was something in her tone that sent warning signals down his back.
"I want to start training again. Practicing spells and duelling and whatnot. I want to get back in the Order."
The blonde stared at her, surprised. This definitely wasn't expected.
"I mean, let's face it," she continued. "My curse seems to have been broken, impossible as it sounds. I can do magic again. My nightmares have been nearly non-existent, and I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself at this point. I can even cook now," she joked. "And there's a whole war going on. It feels wrong, me staying in the flat, me not being a part of it anymore."
It had always been in the back of his mind, the fact that she would want to return to duty after breaking the curse and continue to fight for the Order. But in truth, Draco was hoping that the war would end first, so she would never have to fight in it. Also, there were a few other reasons why her returning to the Order wouldn't be the best situation in the world for him.
"Of course," he said, though he feared that he voice was trembling. "We can practice here for a while and I'll see how you're doing, and then if you seem well enough we'll get you back at headquarters."
Meanwhile, the former-Slytherin's mind was going haywire, trying to figure out exactly how he was going to make this work. The last thing he wanted as to do something that would screw up his relationship with Hermione, now that they were so happy right now. And, not only that, he also wasn't sure how she would take war after everything she'd been through, the loss she'd experienced. He hadn't exactly been keeping her up-to-date with the going-on's of the Order, the losses and injuries, and he feared the news would be like a blow to the stomach for her, perhaps propel her back into her former depressed state.
It was stupid of me, keeping things from her. He knew this for a while, but never chose to acknowledge it. Now how am I supposed to bring her back into that world?
Hermione smiled at him and his stomach plummeted with guilt. She really had no idea what she was in for, returning to the Order, and it was his fault.
' ' '
January 5th, 2001
Ginny tried desperately to keep track of the number of Death Eaters as she fought, but it was nearly impossible. There could have been twenty, there could have been a hundred. Every time she thought she'd taken out one, another would spring up in its place, nameless and menacing.
"Reducto!" she shouted at one as it advanced on her, its mask grinning grotesquely and glowing. The Death Eater flew backwards, a gaping hole in the middle of its stomach, and Ginny continued forward, buffeted by the wave of flowing duellists, casting curses and spells on their opponents.
The youngest Weasley prided herself on her ability to incapacitate Death Eaters without using a single Unforgiveable Curse, but obviously her opponents did not share this pride, as the green light of the Killing Curse lit the Great Hall of the school every few seconds. Each time she saw one, Ginny shuddered, wondering if one of her comrades had fallen as a result of the curse.
Gods above, she really hated war.
She had long-since learned to keep her eyes facing forward to avoid seeing any of her friends get attacked; though she longed to help them each time, distractions were deadly while duelling, and she couldn't afford to be distracted, cruel as it sounded.
But a blood-curdling scream to Ginny's left made the redhead whirl around. The scream was too young and feminine to have flown from a Death Eater's mouth. She turned and saw Fleur, her sister-in-law, falling to the ground in a pool of her own blood. She had hated and envied the woman who had married her brother, but that didn't mean she wanted Fleur dead. No one should die like that. Ginny raced forward, hexing every masked figure that got in her way before she arrived at Fleur's side.
"Ginny!" the older woman gasped, grabbing her side and trying to staunch the blood. "Ginny, go! You cannot help me; you are wasting your time."
"No," she said defiantly while racking her brain for healing spells. "No, I can't leave you like this." She managed to smile down at her sister-in-law. "Bill would have my head."
Fleur looked as if she was going to smile as well, but instead she let out another horrifying shriek and before Ginny even had a time to process the sound, a bony yet surprisingly strong hand was yanking her to her feet and pulling her away. There was a flash of green light and another of Fleur's screams, and when Ginny looked back the woman was still, eyes blank and unseeing, blood still pouring from her wounds.
Ginny turned to face her rescuer and found it to be none other than Malfoy, who appeared absolutely terrified.
"Fucking Merlin, Weasley," he said. "I thought you were going to die."
"Not tonight, Malfoy. You're still stuck with me for a little longer, it seems," she told him. "Thanks."
He nodded. "Potter says to keep fighting, and to watch out for any Death Eaters that leave the fray. They'll be going after horcruxes."
This whole conversation lasted less than ten seconds and then they were running in opposite directions, blasting Death Eaters along the way. Fleur's death had shaken Ginny to the core, and she could feel her hands trembling with every step she took. Her body went on autopilot as she fought while inside her head, her thoughts were racing, returning back and back again to the one thought—Bill loved her, but now she's dead.
' ' '
July 14th, 2002
She planned to be out and back before Draco even woke up (they barely ever woke up before twelve on a Sunday), but just in case she left a note:
Went to see Ginny. I have my wand with me. Will be back in time for lunch. Love you always -Hermione
Over the past two weeks Draco had gone through almost every spell they'd ever learned in Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Hermione could tell that she was doing well—much better than Draco had expected, at least. He was holding something back from her, she could tell, but she respected and knew him enough not to press him about it, and to know it couldn't be something major. This is Draco I'm talking about, she once thought to herself. He loves me.
The night before, though, Hermione had decided it was high-time that she be reunited with her friends. She hadn't seen them in at least eight months, excluding Harry, and now that she was back in a proper state of mind, she missed them terribly. The former-Gryffindor couldn't believe how quickly the time seemed to have passed—she never would have guessed eight months had gone by since Draco started visiting her had it not been for the calendar on her fridge. Hermione also felt terribly guilty, not even thinking of most of them over the course of those eight months.
Before her capturing, the Order would often have Sunday brunch at the Burrow. That was where she was headed now, suspecting that that's where everyone would most-likely be. Blowing Draco a quick kiss—a real kiss would wake him, and he looked so peaceful—she placed a Disillusionment charm on herself and exited the flat, putting up the usual wards and preparing herself for Apparation.
Hermione had tried apparating a few times before and it had worked well, considering how out-of-practice she was, but that was from one end of the kitchen to the other. This would be her first test-run apparating over long distances, and the brunette crossed her fingers that it would work.
Using the three D's—Dear Lord, she couldn't believe she remembered that from sixth year—Hermione felt the slight tug on her stomach and the nauseating sensation of apparating and before she knew it she had been deposited at the bottom of a hill—perhaps a few hundred metres from the Burrow. She mentally shrugged—not bad, in the grand scheme of things.
Hermione eagerly trekked up the hill, wand in hand and presumably unnoticeable thanks to the Disillusionment Charm. Excitement buzzed through her veins—she was already picturing the exhilarating reunion she would have with Ginny and the rest of the Weasleys, and how the Order would welcome her with bright smiles. She knew that once she reached the top of this hill, the Burrow would be in sight, and she would once again be with her family.
But when she came to the tip of the hill, there was no Burrow in sight; only a large, charred stretch of grass and ash where the house she had nearly grown up in once stood. The Burrow had gone up in flames, and what she saw now were the only remains.
Hermione could feel her throat close up and tears spring into her eyes. "No—this is impossible," she said to herself, clutching her wand tighter in her hand. Tears began to stream down her face and large sobs built in her chest. "No, no, no, no—" The brunette spun around, unable to look upon the incinerated remains of her childhood a moment longer and then quickly thought of Grimmauld Place, the only other place her friends could be, and she was apparating again, deposited non-too-gently on the doorstep of Grimmauld Place.
' ' '
January 5th, 2002
"Harry!" Ginny cried, the clamour of the battle fading as her mind zeroed in on him. He looked up from the body of Severus Snape, unmoving in front of him. She could tell he had cried, but the tears were now gone, and there was a look on his face that she had never seen before, a confusing mixture of terror and acceptance.
She would never know how the Potion's Master, slowly bleeding out from a well-placed Sectumsempra had asked Harry to look into his mind, to see what he could never have put into words in time. She would never know what Harry had seen. She would never know about the love Snape had harboured for Lily Evans, even twenty years after she had died as Lily Potter. She would never know what Snape had let slip through, the conversation he had had with Professor Dumbledore revealing Harry's true role in the war. All she would know was this—her boyfriend, her soulmate looking up from Snape's unconscious body with that look in his eyes that she would never understand.
Harry ran towards his girlfriend, taking her hands in his and squeezing them tightly as he spoke. "I've got to go, Ginny. I've found a horcrux."
"Did Snape tell you?"
After a brief moment of hesitation Harry nodded.
"I'll come with you," she said, but he clutched her hands even more tightly as he shook his head.
"No—you can't. You won't. I won't allow it. You have to help Snape."
Ginny felt anger bubbling in her chest. "Who are you to tell me what I will and will not do, Harry Potter? I love you—I am helping you find that horcrux."
"No—please, Ginny," he pleaded, letting go of her hands and pulling her forward in a desperate kiss filled with a sort of passion that sent chills down her spine and let fear settle in her heart. "Please, stay and get Snape help. He needs it. He's dying. Are you going to let him die? Who are you to play God?"
She knew why he had said it but it didn't make it hurt any less. Ginny glared at him. "Go, Harry. I'll heal him."
He kissed her again, harder and longer. "I'll be back. I promise." And then he turned away and ran down the hall.
' ' '
July 14th, 2002
After lifting the Disillusionment Charm Hermione did the only thing she could think of—she knocked on the door. Only after her knuckles left the wood did she realise how stupid this was—who knocks on the doors of the secret headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix?
But the door opened, and Hermione found herself face-to-face with Ginny Weasley.
For a moment both of them were stock-still, shocked at seeing each other, and then the moment was broken as the redhead shouted "Stupefy!" which Hermione narrowly avoided.
"Wait, Gin, it's me!" she shouted, but the youngest Weasley either didn't hear or ignored it, shouting another hex her direction. Hermione dodged it again, pleading for her friend to listen to her. But Ginny did not heed her words, and before she even realised it, the redhead had raised her wand and yelled "Avada Ke—" and only adrenaline-enhanced reflexes allowed Hermione to fall to the ground to dodge the curse.
"Petrificus Totalus!" Hermione screamed, and immediately Ginny was still, frozen in place.
"It's me Gin, I promise," the brunette said quickly. "Listen, I'll prove it—I know you have a birthmark on your hip shaped like a snitch and that your favourite of your brothers is Ron. I know that you've been in love with Harry since you saw him in King's Cross when you were ten and that you hated Scabbers even before you knew he was Peter Pettigrew. I know—"
"Ginny dear, what's the matter?"
Hermione looked up and saw the comforting figure of Mrs Weasley walking down the front steps and she let out a sigh of relief.
"Ginny, what—stupefy!"
Hermione roared a swift Protego! and closed the door behind her, taking a step towards Mrs Weasley. "Molly, it's me. Really me. I promise."
Mrs Weasley thrust the tip of her wand into Hermione's chest, right over her heart. The elder witch's expression looked like she couldn't decide whether or not a curse her or hug her. "Drop your wand."
The brunette did just as she was asked, the sound of wood clattering against wood the only sound now in the hall.
"Revelio," Mrs Weasley said, now waving her wand up and down Hermione's body. The spell had no effect on her, though, and Mrs Weasley seemed convinced, seeing as she quickly gathered Hermione into her arms in a bone-crushing hug. "Welcome back, dear," she whispered. "I'm sorry I tried to stun you, but you understand, don't you?"
"Yes, of course, Mrs Weasley." When she was released from the other woman's grip, Hermione turned to Ginny, saying "Finite Incantatem" and waving her wand in her friend's general direction.
As soon as she was released from her magical bonds, Ginny grabbed Hermione and pulled her into an equally bone-crushing hug. "Dear Merlin, I almost killed you!" she exclaimed, shocked.
The brunette laughed lightly, even though the thought terrified her as well. "I forgive you," she said.
"I can't believe you're here!" Ginny said, letting go of Hermione and take a step back, hands still placed on the other witch's shoulders. "Does Malfoy know?"
"I left him a note," Hermione explained. "I went to the Burrow first, but I saw…" she trailed off, not even able to say it aloud. "I couldn't believe it. Is everyone alright?"
Ginny and Mrs Weasley's expression turned sad. "That was more than six months ago, love. Everyone's fine." Mrs Weasley told her, and Hermione's eyebrow furrowed.
"No, it couldn't have been that long ago. I would have known, right? Draco would have told me."
Ginny and her mother glanced at each other, though Hermione could not interpret the message that look sent.
' ' '
January 5th, 2002
The Order had won, but just barely. And there were so few survivors…
They were all huddled in the Great Hall, circled around the line of dead bodies that had collected over the duration of the battle. Everyone was crying; most were sobbing hysterically.
Alastor Moody—tough as nails, no bullshit, CONSTANT VIGILIANCE Mad-eye Moody–was dead, his magical eye never to swivel about his head again. There was Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet, whom she looked up to all throughout her years at Hogwarts as being the best Chasers in the whole school. There was Lee Jordan, the twins' best friend, who would never laugh at another joke. There was Neville's grandmother, Augusta, lying still and bloody beside her grandson, who was blessedly alive with crystal-clear tears dripping down his face. There was Parvati Patil, who was motionless as her twin combed fingers through her hair and let tears fall onto her blood-encrusted jumper.
There was Professor McGonagall who had always seemed as a perpetual part of the school; Ginny could never have imagined her dying. If Hogwarts did reopen if the war ended, it would never be the same. Her face was grim and serious, as if any moment she would open her eyes and reprimand one of them for being foolish. There was Seamus Finnegan, Harry's second-in-command after Ron died, who was always there for a good, sarcastic jest, who was incredibly loyal, who always charged into a battle first.
And then there was Bill, lying with the side of his head bashed in, face nearly unrecognisable beside his wife, her beauty not even marred by the blood that painted her clothes a vicious red. The first thing Ginny thought when she saw them was At least they're together, right before she burst into tears. And finally, Fred. His younger sister had sat down beside her brother, lying with her head on his chest, holding his hand and wishing, praying, hoping that her eyes were playing tricks on her and that her brothers were smiling and laughing and joking and not dead.
"Weasley!"
She glanced up and saw Malfoy running towards her. "Weasley," he repeated as he knelt before her, grabbing her shoulders and shaking them hard. "Where's Potter?"
"What?"
"Where's Potter?" he demanded again, shaking her even harder. "We can't find him. Lupin said he was went into the Room of Requirement and he hasn't shown up since. Where is he?"
"I-I don't know!" Ginny said. No, this wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. Harry wouldn't be, shouldn't be, couldn't be—
"Come on—let's find him."
He surprised her by taking her hand in his and leading her gently away from the group, through the halls and up the stairs of Hogwarts towards where they both knew the Room of Requirement lay.
They came upon the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy and Ginny immediately began pacing near the opposite wall. I need to be where Harry was. I need to be where Harry was. I need to be where Harry was, she thought, over and over again as Malfoy looked on. And then a door appeared before her.
' ' '
July 14th, 2002
"We thought you knew," Ginny said quietly, voice tight and strained. "We thought Malfoy had told you everything."
"Draco…" Hermione began, but trailed off. Draco hadn't told her everything, had he? He had barely said anything about the war! And he must have known, hadn't he? Why hadn't he told her this? He'd been so cryptic with everything he'd ever said about the Order... especially about Harry…
"Ginny," she said urgently, grabbing her friend's hands as if they were a life preserver. "Ginny, where's Harry? I want to speak with Harry."
The youngest Weasley gasped and her eyes shone bright with tears. "Malfoy never told you, did he?"
' ' '
January 5th, 2002
Ginny put a hand to her mouth in horror as she stepped into the room. She could just picture it—demonic flames racing across the floor and climbing up the piles of reject books and clothes and furniture, blazing its way through the aisles with acrid smoke curling up towards the ceiling. Now, all that was left was black ash unidentifiable debris.
"No," she whispered hoarsely, grabbing onto a charred, blackened table for support as her knees gave out. "No, this can't be it. It's got to be a different room. The Room's made a mistake."
"I'll look for him," was Draco's only reply, and he disappeared between the aisles.
Ginny stood straight and clenched her fists. "Harry! Come out! Goddammit, Harry Potter, come out! I love you!" she wailed, her voice wrought with despair. But there was no reply. The witch fell to her knees and felt a fresh batch of tears burn her eyes as she struck the floor. "Goddammit," she swore angrily. "Harry, please, please. You fucking promised me you'd come back." She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes and wiped at her tears. There was an agony in her chest like one she had never felt before; it tore at her heart and burned her eyes and made her throat clench and close up. "You fucking promised me!" she screamed, and then she let the pain wash over her and let the sobs rack through her body. No, no, no, no, no…
"Weasley?"
The voice was soft and sad, softer and sadder than she ever remembered it being. Ginny looked up to see Malfoy standing in front of her, his eyes glistening more than she thought they would.
"It was a FiendFyre Curse." He held out his hand and there, lying in his palm, were a very familiar pair of round spectacles. "I'm sorry," he whispered in a ghost of a voice.
Ginny let out a ferocious howl, filled with all the pain and rage and hatred and sadness that had been boiling and freezing her blood over the past few minutes. She let the sound fill the room, wall to wall, floor to to ceiling, and screamed until her voice grew hoarse and she ran out of air.
She was hardly aware of Malfoy sitting down beside her and drawing her close to him, hardly aware of his hands as they pushed the glasses into her hands, hardly aware of anything but the fact that Harry was gone, Harry had left her, Harry had broken the one promise that ever truly mattered to her.
"I'll be back. I promise."
' ' '
July 14th, 2002
Hermione knew what Ginny was going to say for what felt like centuries before she said it, though it made the blow no less painful. It was like a punch to the stomach, fast and crippling.
"Hermione… Harry's dead. He's been dead for more than six months."
A/N:
OMG! GEN POSTED TWICE IN ONE WEEK. SHE MUST BE A FRICKING GODDESS OR SOMETHING! Haha, just kidding XD So yeah. I cried big fat tears when I wrote this, so don't feel badly if you did when you read it. And if you want to cry even harder because you are like me and enjoy stories that make you sob uncontrollably, read the last half of this chapter with the song from HBP "When Ginny Kissed Harry" playing on a loop because it will make the whole thing 100 times sadder. Hope you liked this one, and please review!
Thanks to the reviewers/alerters/favouriters! ~Gen