Author's Note: This one is one of my favorites, if only for the Harry/Lupin interaction. I love those two and wish we could have had more in canon. One of my main reasons for writing this story was to show Harry (and Ginny as well) coming of age in a time of war and of course, love. While he still has a bit further to go until he's truly ready, I hope you'll agree that he's getting there.
Chapter 44: Pinprick
Harry heard screaming, and there was blood…so much blood… everything seemed to be in black and white compared to its shocking red. It was dark, menacing, and strangely hypnotic as he watched it pooling on the floor in front of him. He looked at the fallen figure in front of him, and it was as though he was staring at the worst nightmare possible. Except it wasn't a dream…it wasn't a trick of the mind…
"Harry! Wake up!" Hermione's voice was hurried and insistent in his ear. Harry's eyes flew open, and it all came back to him. He had been dreaming, but what he had seen had not been a dream.
"Whatsgoingon?" Harry heard his voice slurred and strange to his own ears. He barely felt as though he had rested at all.
"Professor Lupin is back; we're going to Grimmauld Place."
Harry watched his friend's fuzzy shaped form move away again as she went to wake up Ron and Neville. He reached out for his glasses and thankfully found them next to him. Slipping them on, he looked around the Weasley's old tent with a frown. After the attack on the school, Professor Lupin had taken as many of them as he could via Portkey to a safe location. Apparently, the non-student Order members at the school or in Hogsmeade had them, and the one Remus had been given had delivered him, Ron, Neville, Hermione, and Luna to the Weasley tent, pitched in a forest somewhere.
He watched the others grumbling at Hermione and start to wake up as well. Well, mostly, it was Ron that was grumbling. Harry looked around at the bunk bed he had collapsed into and started to stretch. His back protested the movement quite strenuously. After a bit, Ron came over to him with what looked like a cup of coffee.
"Here, Generalissimo Granger says to drink up. It'll fortify us. Or something."
Harry took the cup and grimaced as the warm, yet bitter coffee went down his throat. Drinking as much as he could without wanting to spit it back out, he put the cup down on the table and watched Ron do the same.
"Blimey, I'm glad we're going back into civilization. Can you imagine being stuck in this tent for the next unforeseeable future?" Ron said shivering. "It was fine when we were fourth years, but now I reckon it would get old pretty fast."
Harry nodded, still feeling fuzzy in his head. The coffee had helped, but he still felt out of sorts. Hermione came back over to them.
"Is there any word?" he asked before she could start yelling at them to get moving again. Hermione frowned at him and shook her head.
"No, no one knows where Brogan and Ginny ended up, I'm sorry, Harry. But Professor Lupin says reports are still coming in; we're going to have a quick meeting at the house."
"Brilliant," Ron muttered. He looked at Harry. "I'm sure she's fine, mate. Brogan more than likely got them out. He's a clever one."
Harry nodded and closed his eyes. He still felt Ginny – he knew she was okay, somewhere, somehow – but it still troubled him that he didn't know what had happened to them. He didn't even understand what had happened for the parts he'd been witnessed. His mind strayed to the image from his dream again.
"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione asked, suddenly touching his arm. "You look unsteady. Here, have some more coffee."
"I'm fine," Harry said, his voice sounding flat. He pushed the cup out of the way and started putting on his robe. "Come on, let's get back to civilization, as Ron called it, and get out of this bloody tent."
o-o-o-o-o
"Minerva is in critical condition, but at least she is stable," Remus was saying as they crowded around the long wooden table at 12 Grimmauld Place.
"What about that bloody traitor, Snape?" Moody growled from the far end, and murmurs started up from the others.
"Severus has…not been seen." Remus said quietly.
"He'd better hope he isn't. Not by me. I'll skin him alive for what he's done tonight." Moody jammed his fist loudly on the table.
Everyone started talking at once, and Harry closed his eyes, ignoring the sounds. Aberforth Dumbledore dead at the hands of Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall in hospital, having been stunned within an inch of her life. Harry felt Ron on his right and Hermione on his left and he still felt incredibly alone. Voldemort had struck at them from so many different directions that he knew people were scared and worried and upset. They had lost not only Dumbledore tonight, for good, but also his brother. Harry had seen it with his own eyes – Aberforth's blood pooling at his feet. The sickeningly sweet, slightly metallic smell of it – the pale white ghostly look of his skin. He felt himself waver again. A hand squeezed his own, and he looked over at Hermione. Her eyes were full of worry, but Harry had no idea how to tell her he was okay. Because he wasn't. He would never be okay until Ginny was back, and Voldemort was finally dead.
"Enough!" Harry stood up, and his voice sounded loud, even to himself. But it had the desired effect on everyone in the room. The twins gaped at him, and a brief barely-there smile flickered across Remus's face. After he was sure all the eyes of the room were on him, he cleared his throat.
"We are not going to waste time arguing about who is doing what to whom. We are not going to sit around and talk about revenge. We are all upset, and we have all lost people dear to us tonight, but this is not how we are going to let him win. Voldemort thrives on sowing discontent and pain and suffering, and we are all acting exactly like he wants us to act. All of the people in this room are the most brilliant, smartest people I have ever met." Harry paused and looked around at everyone. "And we will not be defeated by this. Dumbledore chose each of you because you all had strengths. Let's pool them together and fight back for once. He has Hogwarts. Let's not let him get into this room and into our heads as well."
Harry sat down again, his heart beating fast. He stared boldly back at anyone who would meet his eyes, and he saw admiration in some and worry in others. But Harry also saw a world of strength and cleverness in front of him. He needed to make them understand that now was not the time to dither and second guess themselves.
Remus nodded at Harry and started to speak again when suddenly, a Patronus burst into the room. It was a silver Lynx, and he was unsurprised to hear Kingsley Shacklebolt's voice a moment later.
"Reports from Hogwarts indicate the infirmary was destroyed. Poppy…is dead. No sign of anyone else."
The slow melodic voice of the Auror left the room in shocked silence. Harry felt his stomach make a terrible swooping motion, and he gripped the side of his chair. He looked up and caught Lupin's eye.
"I'm sure Brogan got her out of there, Harry. He had his own Portkey too," the other man said softly.
Harry felt a strange sort of detachment as he nodded his head. Madam Pomfrey was dead – she had cared so much for him throughout his life. There was a strange lump in his throat. He glanced at Ron and Hermione seeing similar reactions on their faces.
Noises behind them meant someone else had arrived at the house, and it turned out to be Mr and Mrs Weasley, followed by Bill. Mrs Weasley immediately went to them, sweeping Ron into her arms and then Hermione. She grabbed Harry too, and hugged him close. Harry saw her about to question him about Ginny as Remus's voice interrupted her.
"Perhaps we should take a break while Molly, Arthur, and Bill get caught up," Remus said, raising his voice to be heard.
"Yeah, and then perhaps Harry can tell them off like he did us." George piped up as he winked at Harry.
"Shut it, you," Ron said, frowning at his brother. "I think what Harry said was what we needed to hear –"
Harry excused himself and walked out of the kitchen, heading toward the back door. He slipped out and shut it behind him, relishing the silence of the night for a moment. He closed his eyes and tried to reach out to Ginny, to let her know he was thinking of her. Harry didn't regret letting Brogan take her – she had been hurt and unconscious, and there was nothing else for it. What bothered him was that he didn't know if Madam Pomfrey had been able to even help her before they'd been attacked. But Harry had to have faith that she had. Without knowing where Ginny was, he couldn't send his own Patronus to speak to her.
The door opened behind him as light flitted across the ground in front of him, momentarily making the backyard glow in golden light. He opened his eyes as Remus Lupin stood beside him.
"Knut for your thoughts, Harry?"
Harry felt himself smile. "Only a Knut?"
"Times are tough, it's all I can spare," the older man said lightly as Harry turned to face him.
"Are you going to tell me off for…well, telling people off?" he asked the older man.
Lupin snickered. "No. I think what you said was exactly right. You reminded me of Lily, actually. She had a way of getting people to listen. And of telling them off when they needed to be."
"I bet," said Harry. "Hanging out with you lot probably gave her enough reason to."
Remus smiled in remembering, and Harry looked out into the night again. He felt as though everything was changing much too fast. Just yesterday, they had been together and happy and…
"I think you should take over as leader," Harry said, looking at his old professor.
Remus appeared surprised. "I came out here to tell you the same thing, Harry. People will listen to you if you choose to lead them."
"I'm a hothead," Harry said, shaking his head. "People like you. You're patient, and you have a quiet strength that they respond to, Remus. This is what the Order needs now. Not secrets and grumpy old men. Or even grumpy young men, for that matter."
Harry could tell the other man was blushing even with the faint light and didn't say anything, to give him some time to recover.
"James and Lily would be very proud of you, Harry." The other man finally said, gripping him slightly by the shoulder. "You embody the both of them so well. And yet you are uniquely you."
Harry smiled but then grew sober. "I…I have to go find her. You know that, right?"
Lupin swallowed roughly and then nodded. "Nothing I say is going to change your mind, I do know that. But, Harry, Voldemort is feeling strong and powerful. Everyone will be looking for you. And Ginny. Please give it a few days, at least. See if they can make their way home first."
Harry frowned and didn't say anything for a moment. When he did speak, he made sure to make his voice neutral. "Would you wait a few days if Tonks were missing?"
Remus sucked in a breath and frowned. "That was a bit of a low-blow, Harry. But no, you're right. Telling you to wait has everything to do with being logical and methodical. It has nothing to do with being a man missing his lover. I trust you enough to know that you will do the right thing."
Harry sighed. "I don't even know where to start. Is Professor McGonagall the only one who knew the locations of the various safe-places?"
Remus nodded. "Just her and Aberforth. Ironically, it was Severus's idea that they be the only two to know."
"Brilliant," Harry said, feeling frustration eating through him. "Just brilliant."
"Why don't you get some rest?" Remus asked. "I hate to say it, but you look like hell. Is there anything else wrong?"
Harry shook his head and then laughed, although, to his ears, it sounded bitter. "You mean other than a maniacal crazy man trying to kill me and everyone I love?"
Remus smiled sheepishly and shrugged.
"Remus, I just need her. Maybe it's because of the Copulatus Spell already kicking in or something else, but I don't feel like me unless we're together. Ginny brings out the best of me, I think."
"Then we'd better get her back," Remus said, putting an arm around his shoulder. Harry nodded, and they headed back inside. His heart felt heavy, and he knew there was just more to come.
o-o-o-o-o-o
"You have done well, my Death Eaters. Thanks to you and to our dear Severus here, we have the school. Now we can begin our plans. The Ministry will fall soon, and they will all do as Lord Voldemort says. The Muggleborns we took, where are they, Lucius?"
Lucius Malfoy stirred but kept his head bowed in a deferential manner. "They are being held in the school dungeons, My Lord. Gibbon and Jugson have assured me they will be dealt with."
"And the half-bloods, and the blood traitors who would fight us? Why is the number of those left behind so small?"
There was a movement to his left, and Voldemort let his eyes fall on his returned spy. "You have something to add, Severus?"
"Only that most of the children escaped with the Professors, My Lord. The staff was given personalized portkeys."
"And yet you did not see fit to tell your Lord about this before the attack, interesting."
"I was unaware of their existence until Aberforth Dumbledore himself told me, My Lord. It appears he and McGonagall did not fully trust me."
Voldemort moved quickly forward and pulled the other's man head up without preamble. Staring into Snape's eyes for a moment, he searched his spy's mind for the truth he was seeking. Satisfied, he released his spy's head with a sharp thrust.
"A pity that," Voldemort said, dismissing the man. His eyes fell on Percy Weasley. "And you, Weasley? How did it feel to kill the mighty Albus Dumbledore, once and for all?"
"It was a duty to be performed, My Lord, nothing more, nothing less."
Voldemort laughed, a short bark of humor. "Yes, a duty. I had him served up and waiting for you, after all. You merely completed what I started. But still, you did it exactly as planned. I applaud you."
Voldemort used his wand to flare the lights up brighter in the room. "You may all applaud yourselves tonight. Things have gone well for us, and Dumbledore's precious Order is no doubt crying into their Butterbeer. Lucius has assured me there is a fine banquet to be had in the other room. Go and enjoy yourselves, for tomorrow is a brand new day in our world. A brand new day in which we will rule and begin to bend it to our viewpoint."
He held his hands up in dismissal, and the rest of the Death Eaters quickly removed themselves from the room. Voldemort sat in the chair at the end of the room as his snake, Nagini slithered in. It curled around its master as though it was caressing him. Voldemort let his hand rest upon the snake's smooth head as though he were petting it. It was then that he noticed the remaining member still standing in the room.
"Yes, Weasley?"
"I was wondering, My Lord, if you had considered my plan for bringing Harry Potter to you."
Voldemort narrowed his eyes at the other man and steepled his fingers under his chin. Nagini curled around him even more, moving up higher in the chair. Voldemort petted the snake absentmindedly.
"The plan has merit, Weasley, but I will wait and see how things play out for now. We do not have control of the Ministry. Yet."
"As you wish, My Lord, but surely the Ministry will soon be yours?"
"Let me worry about Harry Potter, Weasley. And that young sister of yours. The one who had my diary? He feels too much for her. It is what I will use to defeat him. Now go and celebrate with your comrades. Lucius tells me you never partake of any of the festivities, perhaps that should change tonight, hmm?"
Weasley nodded and bowed his head, removing himself from the room. Voldemort stared after him and then looked down at the snake in his arms. She raised her head, and he knew they understood each other without words.
Yes. Everything was coming together rather nicely.
o-o-o-o-o
"Brogan?" Ginny called for the fifth time. She had been awake for a little while but had not heard him. She turned her head as far as she could, wondering if he was in one of the bedrooms. Her pain was less, but still, her body ached where it shouldn't. Ginny realized Brogan had transfigured one of the couches into a sort of hospital bed with railings, to keep her from moving too much.
"Sod this," she muttered to herself as she forced herself to sit up, pushing her legs past the metal bars. She was hungry, sore, and she needed to use the loo. Just her luck, her shack-mate slept like the dead. She winced and felt the first sting of tears as pain tore through her. Spying the orange bottle Brogan had held up to her earlier, she grabbed it off the small table and popped the lid. She didn't know how long she should wait between doses and didn't care anymore. If the liquid inside the bottle made this ache go away, then Ginny was all for it.
Taking a brief sniff – it smelled like mint- she closed her eyes and took a swallow. Making a face, she felt the potion slowly ooze down her throat. It tasted of licorice and grass. Well, in for a knut, in for a galleon, Ginny thought as she drank the rest of the potion.
"Ugh," she said out loud to the silent shack. But she felt better. It hurt less, and her head didn't feel quite so muddied.
Ginny stood up slowly, not really trusting her legs at first. After she was sure she wasn't going to go falling arse over teakettle, she moved forward. Taking a guess, she moved to the door at the right and opened it slowly, thankful to have found the loo. Doing her business quickly, she happily ran some cold water over her face and glanced at her image in the mirror.
"Ginevra, you look like hell on two legs," she said to herself with a frown. Dark circles were under her eyes, and she looked pasty. She looked like she had gone twenty rounds with a bludger. No wonder Brogan had been so worried about her. Ginny shuddered to think what she'd looked like earlier. Stepping out of the loo, Ginny looked at the two doors in front of her. One was slightly open so she went with that one first. It was dark inside, and it took her eyes a moment to adjust. He must have cast a light- dampening spell, she thought and realized she didn't know where her wand was.
"Brogan?" Ginny called again, opening the door more. She heard a soft moan from the center of the room and made her way over to what appeared to be a small bed. She saw his wand on the table as she drew closer and grabbed it quickly, ending whichever spell he'd cast to block the light. As the daylight slowly filtered in again, she turned toward the bed and gasped.
"Brogan!" Ginny cried. "Oh my god, what's wrong?"
He was pale and sweaty, his eye closed tightly. She noticed for the first time that there was blood on his arm.
"Oh, you got hit with a hex, didn't you?" Ginny said out-loud, trying to wake him. He moaned again and then was silent. She tried to pull the shirt away from his arm and swore. She realized that the blood was coming from higher on his shoulder.
"Brogan Caley, wake up!" Ginny said louder, trying to reach him. If he had a bad infection, they were both done for because out of the two of them, he was the one that knew more healing spells. She stood up from the bed and went back into the loo, looking around for a flannel to dampen and cool him down with. Spying some on a little shelf under the sink, she grabbed it and turned on the water again. Hurrying back into the room, she slipped it over his forehead and then his face.
She grabbed his wand again and pointed it at him, but hesitated. It was always a little odd using another person's wand. Sometimes spells didn't entirely turn out right. But there was nothing else for it.
Ginny cast the Enervate spell. A moment later, Brogan was coming to.
"Thank Merlin," Ginny breathed as his eyes fluttered open.
"Ginnywhatareyoudoinghereinmybed?" His speech was slurred, and Ginny couldn't tell if it was from being awoken or because he was in pain. Perhaps it was both. Brogan reached a hand out to her, his fingers getting tangled in her hair. "Soprettysosoft," he whispered, and then he fell back against the bed again.
"Oh, brother," Ginny muttered. "Come on, Brogan, we need to wake you up. And I apologize in advance for this."
Using all of her strength, Ginny worked her arms around his upper torso and pulled him up. He was heavier than Harry but not by much. As her arm pulled on his shoulder, he woke up again, howling in pain. Ginny nearly dropped him in surprise.
"Fuck!" Brogan swore as she wobbled underneath his weight.
"No, UP!" Ginny replied and finally had him in a standing position. He blinked down at her in confusion, but she could already see he was more awake than before. Even if he was swaying on his feet.
"What are you doing?" he asked, leaning against her, breathing heavily.
"Dying under your massive weight, you twit. What is it with skinny men being heavier than they look? Do you think you can stand up without help?"
"I'm standing?"
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Where's my wand, Brogan? I don't want to keep doing spells with yours."
He teetered backward, still unsteady. Realization finally crossed his features, and he gripped her with his good arm. "What are you doing out of bed? You should be resting! Harry is going to murder me if something happens to you!"
"Harry's gonna do a lot of things when I get ahold of him, he'll be much too busy to murder you. Now once again, where is my wand, Brogan?"
He blinked at her quickly and then looked over to the right side of the room where Ginny noticed the bag she'd packed earlier.
"Brilliant! Can you sit down on the bed?" She asked him, and he nodded. They moved slowly backward until the back of his legs met the bed. Brogan sat quickly, as though the wind had been knocked out of him. Making sure he was okay one more time, Ginny promptly walked over to her bag, finding her wand on top. She had never been so happy to see it in her life.
When she turned back around, she saw Brogan frowning down at his shoulder. Pursing her lips, she went back over to him.
"Something you neglected to tell me about yesterday?"
"I only felt a twinge when I went to sleep last night, I had no idea – ow!" Brogan tried to roll his shoulder and stopped, his face betraying his pain.
"Let me see," Ginny said, pushing his hand out of the way.
"No, I'm fine. I'm sure it's nothing, I must have got hit with a jinx or something. Let me go look at it in the loo." He made as though to get up and then sat quickly back down again. He looked up at her, the helplessness and fear on his face. His breathing was coming in fast puffs.
"You are quite stubborn, do you know that?" Ginny tsked at him and began to look at his back. She stood back and nodded at him. "Take your shirt off, I can't see anything. The blood is as black as the shirt is. Do you even own anything other than black tee-shirts?"
Even with the lack of color on his face, Brogan's cheeks went pink. "No, I'll keep my kit on, thanks. Really, I'm fine, Ginny."
"Stop being a ninny and let me see the wound. Now."
Brogan frowned at her. "I've never seen this side of you before Ginny, you're a right pain in the arse. Do you boss Harry around like this?"
"Yes, and he loves it. You're in pain and clearly hurt. Now take off the damn shirt!"
They stared at each other a moment, and then Brogan relented, looking down. With a slow movement, he reached up with his good arm and pulled the shirt over his head. He looked away as Ginny stared at his shoulder. There was a rough gash on his right side, cut very deep into his back.
"Shit," Ginny said, uncharacteristically. She looked at his face. "What exactly happened in the infirmary?"
"I fought some bad guys."
"Funny," Ginny said, shaking her head. "This looks like a knife wound, Brogan. You've lost a lot of blood, too. 'Only felt a twinge.' How could you not have felt this?"
He didn't say anything and just stared at the floor. Ginny sighed and touched him gently. "Let me clean it up, okay? I promise not to be swept away at the sight of your manly chest."
He didn't say anything and didn't smile back at her. Ginny felt scared as she looked at the wound. It was ugly, and she started going through her limited barrage of healing spells in her mind, wondering what would help.
"It was a…cursed knife, I think," Brogan said after a moment as though reading her mind. "I'm not sure magic will heal it."
"Then let me use soap and water. I need to see how deep it is at any rate."
Ginny returned to the little bathroom and grabbed more flannels and towels. She used her wand to turn the soap dish into a basin and carried it back to the bedroom. She tapped the side to fill it with water and looked at Brogan. He appeared less embarrassed and more in pain. She really didn't like the pallor of his skin. And his breathing still sounded rattled.
"Come on, budge over. Let me get behind you," she murmured, and he moved over on the bed. Ginny bit her lip instead of gasping out loud as she inspected the wound. It was bad. It was very bad.
Brogan turned his head to the side, sighing. He sucked in a deep breath as she applied the flannel to the wound for the first time. Ginny tried to be gentle as she could, but the cloth kept filling with blood. She soaked it in the water for a moment and then held it to the wound, applying slight pressure. She continued to do so until she felt as though the bleeding had at least slowed down some.
"I'm going to have to find a way to bandage this," Ginny said after a while.
"There are supplies in the cupboard," Brogan said, nodding toward a door she hadn't noticed. "This house was stocked with things like this in mind, I reckon. I saw them last night when you were still sleeping. I was surprised they were mostly Muggle."
Ginny moved off the bed and went to the door, prying it open. She pulled out what had to be the bandages, and something she hoped was a pain-relief potion. She turned around and held up the bottle.
"Feel lucky?" she asked, trying to get him to smile.
"Not particularly, no," Brogan said, glancing at her.
Ginny handed him the bottle. "Do you know how a pain-relief potion is supposed to smell?"
Brogan shrugged and took the cap off, taking a deep breath. "It smells all right."
"Hopefully, it's not a bottle of Amortentia," Ginny said, laughing, before she could stop herself. She couldn't help but wonder why Brogan's face went utterly scarlet at her words.
"No, no, it's not." he said and took it in one gulp.
"I'm not sure that was wise. How do you feel?" she asked him after a moment.
He nodded his head. "It was a pain-relief potion. It feels better. You'd better bandage me up while it's still strong in my system."
"Okay then, lay down."
"Uh, why, exactly?"
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Because I want you flat when I apply the adhesive, the cut is right above your shoulder blade practically. It's hard to maneuver around that. I'm not trying to get into your pants for heaven's sake, Brogan." Honestly, men, Ginny thought, one-track minds, the lot of them.
"I know that," Brogan said defensively.
Ginny merely looked back at him as though silently asking, 'do you?' He eventually looked away, taking a deep breath.
Brogan finally complied, sighing, and laying down flat in front of her. Ginny crawled onto the bed, the bandages in hand. She couldn't help but appreciate the broad expanse of Brogan's shoulders. It didn't mean she fancied him, but she could still admire him. He really was quite fit, aside from the gaping bloody wound, that is. She shook her head and leaned over him, making sure the bandage was the correct size for the injury. Brogan made an odd humming noise in the back of his throat, so she pulled back.
"What is it? I haven't done anything to it yet," Ginny said, checking him for another wound she might have missed.
"No, it's not that it hurts. It's just…" He turned his head to the side so he could see her. "Your hair. It…it tickles."
Ginny frowned and then reached around for her wand. She used it to pull her hair up to the top of her head into a messy bun, securing it haphazardly. She raised an eyebrow at him.
"Better?"
He merely rolled his eyes and turned towards the bed again, but she had seen his tell-tale blush. Ginny wondered if there would ever come a time when things could be normal between them. She couldn't help the fact that she liked to take the mickey out of him occasionally because Brogan's reactions were quite amusing to her. Ginny swore to herself that she didn't do it to be mean, he just brought out that side of her for some reason. It must be the part of her that was like Fred and George; sometimes, you just had to go for the laugh. Or the kill, whichever the case may be. Ginny frowned to herself because she had always considered herself to be the nicest of her family. But perhaps it was just a Weasley trait to be a bit of a tosser when it came to sensitive subjects.
As she started slowly applying the bandage with her hand, she glanced up at him again. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was now at last steady. But she didn't want him falling asleep on her again. She reached for the first topic that came to mind to keep him alert.
"You know, I wonder if Kath knows you're so ticklish back here."
To her surprise, Brogan chuckled and then sighed. "I doubt it. I've never had the pleasure of having her stand over me while trying to stop a bleeding hole in my back before."
Ginny smirked. "Maybe I'll just have to tell her. You know, woman to woman."
Brogan groaned and turned his head again, catching her eye. "Yeah, make sure that's the first thing you do when you see her. I'm sure she'll find it fascinating."
Ginny used her hand to force his head back around again and snorted at him. "I'm almost done, stop moving. And you know I won't tell her if you don't want me to, Brogan. I'm only trying to distract you. How am I doing?"
He mumbled something she didn't catch, and she finally finished applying the bandage. It would have to do for now, but Ginny knew they would have to make sure to change it often.
"All right. That should hold for the moment, but we need to talk about getting out of here and having an actual Healer look at that. I don't like it, Brogan. Who knows what kind of cursed knife it was."
He sat up and tested moving his arm, wincing as he did so. "Hand me my shirt, please."
Ginny turned around and grabbed it from the floor where he'd dropped it. She frowned at it and looked at him.
"I have to rinse this. I don't think a cleaning spell will get all the blood out."
"Well, I'm not sitting around without a shirt on while that happens!"
Ginny shook her head at him and left the bedroom. She laid his shirt over the sink to wash later and then went to her bag, back in the room. Digging through the clothes she had grabbed at Hogwarts, she found the one she was looking for. It was one of Harry's, and for a moment, she pulled it to her face and took in a deep breath – it still smelled of him. She felt a keen sense of loss suddenly and wondered how he was doing. Swallowing roughly, she turned and handed it to Brogan along with his wand.
"You'll probably have to make it a bit larger, but I'm sure Harry won't mind if you tell him it was to make sure I keep my hands off your naked torso."
Brogan stuck his tongue out at her and grabbed the shirt, a determined look on his face. She left him to it and went back out into the small kitchen. It was time that they both had something to eat.
o-o-o-o-o-o
After they had eaten – a very exciting breakfast of strawberry jam, savory biscuits and and tinned chicken – they sat in silence, each nursing very strong cups of tea. Ginny hadn't been able to find any instant coffee, so Darjeeling it was. She had brewed it twice as strong because she felt like they both needed a kick up the backside to get their heads on straight. She glanced at the man across from her, and her thoughts from earlier came back to her. Right. Time to apologize for that.
"I'm sorry for earlier," she said simply, putting her teacup down. It was old and chipped and looked like something her Auntie Muriel would have bought.
"You helped me, what are you talking about?" Brogan said, frowning at her. "My back really does feel loads better."
"No, I mean…" Ginny paused and looked away. "I tease you an awful lot sometimes, Brogan, and I don't mean to. I don't mean to rub your face in things. You got all embarrassed, and I wasn't very…nice about it."
"You wanted me to pull my head out my arse and let you clean off my wound. I think I deserved it, Ginny."
She met his eyes and saw that he meant it. She shook her head. "But still, I can't…look, I can't help it sometimes, you make it so easy to tease you about…things, and I don't know why I allow myself to take the piss out of you about your feelings. I've never been in a situation like this before, and I like you too much to keep doing it to you. But I do. And I'm sorry. Harry once told me I was cruel to you, and I honestly don't mean to be. I don't mean to be flirty. You just bring it out of me."
Ginny felt her skin heat and looked down at the dregs of her tea, her hand resting beside the cup. A moment later and Brogan's hand wrapped around hers, squeezing it lightly.
"I can take it, Ginny. I'm a grown boy. I know you're just teasing me, and I know I make it bloody easy for you to do so. I like that you try to make me laugh at myself. I like that you…flirt with me. Probably a little too much, if I'm honest. Probably my closet masochistic tendencies. But as long as we both know it isn't going anywhere, why does it matter?"
"Because it's not right," Ginny insisted, meeting his eyes again. "Harry isn't the sharing type, and neither am I. But you…" she trailed off, not sure what she meant to say. She felt out of her depth quite suddenly. Ginny pulled her hand away and got up from the table, clearing the dishes. She put them in the sink and just stood there, her back to him.
"It's okay, Gin," Brogan said a moment later, getting up and standing behind her. She felt his hand on her shoulder and turned around. She looked up at him and saw that he genuinely meant what he was saying.
"I am not here to come between you and Harry. I mean, I reckon at the beginning I thought…there was a chance. But…the more I think about things, the more I realize I am just here to help you two in any way necessary. I care about you both. You know that. Nothing is going to happen unless the three of us want it to happen."
Ginny closed her eyes. "This is too much for me to handle, Brogan. You, me, Harry. The fact that you want us both… it should make me uneasy but it really doesn't. And I don't understand why. I like you. And sometimes I think a part of me likes that you like me. But I don't want to be the type of person who is cruel. I suffered with a crush on Harry for too long when I was younger. I know how it feels. And you've told me you feel it for the both of us. I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say. Or even how to act sometimes."
Brogan reached out with his hand and let it graze her cheek for a moment. "Well, then let's drop it and move on, as they say. We have enough to worry about without adding anything else to it." He removed his hand and then pushed her gently out of the way. "Here, go rest, and let me finish the cleaning up. Then we'll try to suss out where we are and how we can get out of here. And figure out where we're going to go to when we do."
Ginny nodded absentmindedly and watched him for a moment. She drifted over to the sofa and sat down, resting her head on the back of the cushion. Her heart was confused, and she missed Harry something fierce. Ginny wondered if the Copulatus Spell was starting to make her feel out of sorts. Her anxiety already felt as though it was through the roof and the feeling was only growing. She watched Brogan, feeling embarrassed over their conversation. She looked away, her hand straying up to her necklace. She looked down at the stone and the light caught the glint of her ring as she felt a keen yearning for Harry. Oh love, she thought, where are you? And where am I?
o-o-o-o-o-o
"Tell me about the infirmary first,"Ginny said to him when he joined her on the sofa.
Brogan frowned and his hand played with a thread that was hanging off of the sofa cushion. He glanced at her and then sighed. "You're not going to let it go until I tell you everything, are you?"
Ginny merely raised her eyebrow at him and waited. Shaking his head, he sighed at her.
"Madam Pomfrey…well, she took one look at you and told me what we needed to do. She grabbed the potion and told me the instructions for it. She said it was a special batch that Professor Snape and Kath had been brewing just recently. Then there was another explosion-"
"Another explosion?" Ginny asked, momentarily stunned. Brogan nodded.
"There had been a few, actually. But this one was closer and then we heard yelling and screaming. Madam Pomfrey rushed out to see what had happened and a spell knocked her back into the room. I pulled her over to your bed to protect her and started firing off shots to keep them from getting in through the door. When she came to, she told me to activate my Portkey and to take you with me. She…she wouldn't go with me. Nothing I could say would persuade her."
He looked so haunted that Ginny knew what was coming next without him having to say it. "She's dead, isn't she?" Ginny asked after a moment.
Brogan looked at her, his eyes wide. "This big ugly bloke came in, using some sort of spell that really packed a wallop. He blew the infirmary doors off their hinges. Then he was aiming at your bed next. I'll never forget the look of glee on his face when he saw you. I…I cast a Trip-Jinx and it worked, but the spell he was casting went wonky and…" He paused, looking away. His hand continued to pull at the sofa rather harshly.
Ginny reached out with her hand and held his still for a moment. "You didn't do anything wrong, Brogan. It isn't your fault."
"It collapsed the wall behind us and I barely managed to get you out of the way…Madam Pomfrey took the brunt of it." Brogan finished, his voice gone soft, but he held onto her hand tightly.
Ginny squeezed his hand but had to pull away, feeling too many emotions coming from him. "You didn't do anything wrong, Brogan. It isn't your fault." She repeated herself, hoping some part of him would hear her and believe it.
Brogan sighed and then bowed his head. She gave him a moment while she thought of Madam Pomfrey – the matron had always been nice to her. Indeed, she had always treated Ginny like a grown up, even when she was barely 11 and had been found in the Chamber of Secrets. Even when Ginny had gone to her when she was ill and they thought she might be pregnant, Madam Pomfrey had been kind and no-nonsense with her. Not lecturing her but trying to help her. Ginny knew the matron would be deeply missed by everyone.
She glanced over at Brogan, who looked more in control of his emotions. "How did you get the knife wound?"
"I lifted you up and was reaching around for your bag when more of the Death Eaters came into the room after the wall had fallen. I heard this mad cackle and grabbed the Portkey without turning around. But before it activated, I felt this sharp pain in my back for the tiniest of moments…when I turned my head I saw this woman with long dark hair, laughing, and then the glint of a knife. Honestly, I don't even think it really cut me all that deep when it happened. The next moment we were here, and I didn't think of it until you woke me up earlier."
"Harry was probably in the thick of it, wasn't he?" Ginny asked after a moment.
Brogan shrugged. "He went back with Ron after Hermione called for them to help her. I don't know what happened after I last saw him."
Ginny nodded, holding her necklace again. She could feel that Harry was okay, but she still felt anxious. She looked at Brogan. "Reckon we should look around and see if we can find out where we are."
He nodded and winced as he stood up. Ginny could tell she would need to change his bandage again soon. She could already tell the shirt he'd borrowed was sticking to his back with fresh blood. She went over to the bookcase and he went over to desk as they began their search for a way to get home. Neither of them wanted to leave the safety of the house until they knew what they were up against on the outside.
o-o-o-o-o-o
