Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine, but belongs to J.K. Rowling and others more talented than I.
Ginny woke with a start. Something was not right.
The small redhead sat up slowly, pulling the worn quilts up around her shoulders. Her tiny bedroom in The Burrow was eerie in the moonlight, and Ginny wished that she'd taken the time to clean it better. The heaps of clothes and schoolbooks left over from her final days at Hogwarts a few weeks ago looked like shadowy creatures, and the Weird Sisters posters on the wall looked strangely evil.
Moonlight filtered through the gently blowing curtains, and Ginny caught her breath. She had closed that window because the night air made her throat scratchy. Slowly, Ginny edged a hand out to grab her wand from her nightstand.
It wasn't there.
Slightly panicked, she checked the floor. Nothing. Had she left it on her bureau? A quick glance around the room did not reveal it, and Ginny began to feel slightly frantic. With a calming breath, she reasoned that perhaps it had rolled onto the floor. It was silly to be so frightened about her wand being gone when she was safe in her bed. She maneuvered out from under the sheets, but as her bare foot touched the floor, she heard a loud crash from downstairs, followed by screaming.
For a moment, she was frozen to her bed. It took every ounce of her Gryffindor courage to breathe, much less put both feet back on the floor and look under the bed. A random assortment of socks, books, balled up parchment and an Ireland hat from the Quidditch cup in her third year all made dim outlines in the darkness, but her wand was nowhere in site.
A loud bang from downstairs made her jump, and she grabbed the quilt from her bed, threw it around her shoulders, and slowly crept toward her bedroom door. Quietly turning the handle, she opened the door and stepped into the hallway, and crept down two flights of stairs until she was above the kitchen.
From her vantage point at the top of the staircase, she couldn't see the pandemonium below, but she could easily view the shadows of everyone in the main room. Judging from the shapes of the shadows and rate at which Unforgivables were being thrown about, the Death Eaters had found The Burrow at last. Ginny wanted to run down the stairs, but without her wand, she'd only get in the way. She might be courageous, but she wasn't stupid.
"Crucio!" screamed a male voice, and one of the twins—Fred—was flung back against the wall. Ginny covered her mouth to stifle the scream as Fred looked up at her. His eye was blackened and a large gash on his arm was bleeding heavily, and he was writhing in pain. Angry, scared tears began to form in Ginny's eyes. This was not the plan! Her family was supposed to survive this bloody war and live happily ever on. She tasted blood and realized that she'd bit down on her lip hard enough to break the skin.
Another torture curse hit Fred in the gut and Ginny made to run down the stairs, but Fred grimaced and shook his head. "Run," he mouthed.
A sudden flash of green blinded Ginny for a moment, and when she glanced down at her brother, he was gone. Lifeless eyes gazed up the stairs, and her heart went into her throat as she began to follow his instructions as well as she could.
There was a fireplace in her parent's bedroom. Maybe if she flooed to Hermione, or to Harry, she could get away and warn the rest of the Order. She hastened back up the staircase and half ran, half tiptoed down the short hall to their room. She wrenched open the door, stepped inside, and remembered to breathe.
Without a wand she couldn't secure the door, so she jammed a chair against it and turned to face the darkened room. Her parents' room was jammed with odds and ends that didn't belong in the rest of the house, and Ginny tripped over an array of cookbooks and Muggle mobile phone bits as she hunted for the Floo powder, wincing every time there was a crash below.
She paused at the mantle, which was full of random picture frames. Smiling Weasleys at all stages of childhood grinning at her, shaking Christmas gifts and proudly displaying lost teeth. Ginny grabbed a family portrait that was taken long ago at the end of her fourth year. Bill and Charlie had been around that summer here and there on Order business, and Mum had managed to get them together long enough to get a snapshot. Of course, Percy was missing, but that couldn't be helped. Ginny clutched the frame and continued her hunt for the powder.
The fire flickered gently, barely more than embers, but it lit the room well enough, and Ginny spotted a flower pot of Floo powder on her Mum's bedside table. Ruefully shoving aside an old Lockhart monstrosity, Ginny grabbed the powder and turned toward the fireplace.
As she stepped up to the dying flames, she realized that the house had gone eerily silent, and she wondered for a moment if, perhaps, it was safe to come out. Perhaps she should peek downstairs, just to be sure—then she heard rough voices as heavy footfalls thumped on the stairs.
She felt her heartbeat in her mouth. Scrambling to the fireplace, Ginny threw in a pinch of Floo powder. As the flames began to glow green, someone began to wrench the door open.
"Harry's!" she cried, as loudly as she dared, and stepped into the fireplace just as a figure slammed the door wide open. She glimpsed two Death Eater masks, and then everything swirled away.
She tumbled out of the fireplace at Harry's. The small living room was dark, but she could see a prone figure on the floor.
It was Harry, and he wasn't breathing.
Ginny screamed as she ran to the body of her hero. He was cold and rigid, and clearly had been killed hours ago. He'd been slain by a killing curse, Ginny realized, swallowing a stone-sized lump in her throat. They'd been so certain that Voldemort would want to take him alive. With a shuddering sob, she closed his eyes and stood.
A quick glance around the room showed signs of a horrific battle, but Ginny didn't feel like staying around to find clues about how they'd found him or what they'd been after. If the two Death Eaters back home had hear her, they'd be certain to follow her here. Her mind raced, and she remembered that it was Hermione's turn to keep watch at the safe house in Scotland. There was no way they could have found that. Ignoring the little voice telling her that they'd believed the same about the Burrow, she stepped into the fireplace once more.
The safe house was cold and dark as well, and Ginny cautiously began to explore it.
"Hermione?" she called into the silence, "It's Ginny. There's … there's been an awful attack. Hermione? Are you here?" The grief was barely beginning to sink in, but a few tears found their way to her eyes. Her family … gone. Harry, their last hope, dead. Ginny felt an overwhelming feeling of despair rising in her chest. Was there any good in this magical world that couldn't be tarred?
Rounding a corner, Ginny's worst nightmare grew even more awful, for Hermione's door was ajar, hanging from one broken hinge, and burned into the door was the skull and snake that had put fear into the hearts of wizards for over twenty years.
The pale red head crumpled in the hall.
"I'm not going in there. I'm not!" she began to sob. Shivering in her nightgown, her tousled hair glowing in the breaking dawn of the next day, Ginny cried harder and louder and longer than she ever had, and her heart broke ten times over.
The sun's rise eventually startled her into action. If the Death Eaters had gone this far and killed so many in one coordinated attack, it certainly wasn't safe to remain here. With no wand, her only means of escape was via Floo. Her mind, numbed from her tears, began to speed up. She could borrow clothes from Hermione and Floo to Diagon Alley. It was a public place, which meant it would be easier to hide in a crowd and potentially easier to create a long term plan. She could also procure a wand from Ollivander—she realized with a sinking heart that she had no money, but surely he'd give her credit after hearing her story.
Since she refused to enter Hermione's room, she searched the rest of the house. Thankfully, Hermione had a neatly packed tub of off-season clothes in the closet, and while the cloaks were warm for the summer, she found one that wasn't terribly heavy and some Muggle clothes to wear underneath. Muggle London might be the safest place to be, she reasoned.
In a hidden drawer she found money, just a few Galleons and a handful of Sickles, and she pocketed the lot. Stepping to the fireplace, Ginny called, "Diagon Alley!" and stepped into the green flames for the third time.
This early in the morning, The Leaky Cauldron was completely empty. Ginny imagined that the same was true for the alley, and so she slid into a booth out of sight of the bar and the door, and began to make a plan. However, as she attempted to piece together the events of the night, her adrenaline began to wear off, and she fell into a quiet stupor. A barkeeper entered the room and began to polish the bar without noticing Ginny. She was so tired; so exhausted. She wondered when Ollivander's opened. If she was going to get through this, she needed a wand.
She started. A wand! The window! Ginny gasped and bit her lip. The door to her room had been closed, but her wand was missing. Someone had entered her room and taken it, and left the window ajar. At least one Death Eater had seen her, asleep in her bed, and left her there. Perhaps they had all entered that way; it could have been warded incorrectly. But why hadn't they killed her? Judging from Harry's home and Hermione's safe house, both had been attacked prior to The Burrow, so it wasn't as if they had begun killing after they invaded her home. They must have left her alive on purpose. The thought chilled her. The idea that Voldemort wanted her to live was perhaps scarier than if he wanted her dead.
A church bell began to peal faintly, and she stood suddenly, startling the barkeeper. She flew to the courtyard and hurriedly tapped the bricks. Even if Olivander wasn't open for business at seven in the morning, there was a chance he was already in his shop. She practically flew down the street and pounded on his door. The little man opened cautiously.
"Ginny Weasley? Merlin's beard, girl! Come inside, come inside." Ginny stepped into the musty shop, panting for air.
"Mr. Ollivander … there's … the Death Eaters … I need … a wand."
"Good gracious! Let's see, ashwood and unicorn hair? Slightly springy?" Ginny nodded gratefully.
He turned to his shelves of dusty little boxes. "What happened, dear girl?"
"There was an attack on The Burrow. My entire family, minus Percy … gone. Hermione too … and … and Harry."
Ollivander dropped the box he was holding. "Harry Potter? Dead? You are certain?"
Ginny nodded. Ollivander knelt to pick up the box, and when he stood up, Ginny could see the tears in his eyes. He handed her the wand.
"It might not take as well as your first, but the unicorn hair is from the brother of your first, and it should serve you well. What do you plan to do?"
Ginny took hold of the wand and the tip lit up with golden sparks. It felt familiar, yet eerily different.
"Thank you, sir. I had considered living in Muggle London, but I'm afraid I don't know where to begin. I never did well in Muggle Studies. I never even visited Hermione over summer hols like she asked." She gulped down a sob.
"What about Hogwarts, dear? Minerva has given me the password for the Floo there for such unorthodox, dangerous situations as this. Of course, it's summer term and as I understand it, you just finished your seventh year so you can't be a student, but it is still the only place You-Know-Who can't reach."
Ginny felt relief wash over her. "Really? Right now? That would be … that would be perfect."
"Yes, yes of course. The sooner the better. Here, now, my fireplace is toward the back." He handed her the Floo powder and she took a pinch. "The password is Albus," he whispered.
Ginny threw the powder into the flames. "Albus," she called loudly, "Hogwarts!" she stepped into the flames and into the Floo network. The grates rushed by, and before she knew it, Ginny stepped out of a large fireplace into a beautifully furnished room. The oriental rug under her feet was plush and she was certain that the deep green curtains were velvet.
Ginny felt her heart stop for the millionth time that day. This was not Hogwarts Castle.
"Why, if it isn't the littlest blood traitor," drawled a voice. "I was wondering when you'd drop in."
A/N: This is my first fanfic. I've been an avid fanfiction reader for several years, and D/G is and has been my favorite for most of it (I've spent more time reading fanon than canon at this point).
Please review, especially to critique.
11/05/11 - I know it's been a long time since I've updated, and part of the reason is that I'm unhappy with the quality of the first ten or so chapters. But I have no plans to abandon this story, and therefore, I've decided to edit and embellish. Hopefully it will inspire my wayward muse to continue.
If you're just beginning to read Red Ember, please don't give up because the first chapters are rocky. As was my goal, I've grown in the last three years, and I know how to use commas properly now. Usually. ;)