Chapter Fifteen: The Weasleys Together

Ginny and Ron's canoe glided past blurred banks. Voldemort had summoned the tides.

"We're going to die with Slave!" screamed Ron, as they rose by a mile.

The tide tumbled in, dragging dolphins, turtles and seals along in its current. The canoe filled with water as Ginny and Ron paddled against another eddy. Water brimmed to the top of the ditch. "I've never known anything like this before!" cried Ron. "You Know Who's doing this!"

Three cannon balls shot at Shell Cottage, one after the other. Stone and shells crumbled midair.

Wind howled, throwing the water's surface about. Mist got pushed away, so the Salazar could be seen perched on the highest water as storm clouds piled over them.

"I'm soaked!" yelled Ginny. And suddenly there was no marsh as the biggest wave of all took the sea creatures and canoe with it.

Then the wave slowed its pace and water sank into the expanse of the marshes, filling ditches and bogs with salt water.

"I can steer more easily now!" Ron manoeuvred the canoe along the wave, and more storm clouds gathered as the temperature dropped and thunder rumbled as rain fell.

Feet from the riverbank, the canoe sunk. Ginny and Ron swam to shore.

Albus Dumbledore looked down at them.

"What has happened to Slave?"

"He told Voldemort he was the young Minister," gasped Ginny, lifting a finger as she coughed up water. "...And he killed him."

Just then, the boggart swam up the riverbank.

"Boggart!" exclaimed Ron. "You can swim again!"

With his fur clean and brushed, and bandage still around his middle, the boggart appeared smaller and thinner.

"There's bin a terrible storm," said the boggart. "You seen that big ship out there stuck on the marshes?"

Everyone exchanged glances.

"Yeah. Well, I'll be off now," said the boggart. "Can't stand bein' so clean anymore. Off ter find a nice bit a mud."

"What happened to Percy do you think?" asked Ginny. "And what about that ring Slave had? It's not… Hang on, Professor, is your ring shaped like a dragon with emerald eyes?"

Albus looked over his half moon glasses. "It is indeed; tell me, what happened?"

"Slave found it in a tunnel underground; he had it on when he got shot."

"Ah," said Dumbledore, pressing his fingers together. "Then Voldemort has destroyed his own horcrux." He bowed his head. "That boy was a martyr."

Ginny and Ron sat on the ruins of Shell Cottage. Ron held the telescope, now dented, to his eye. "There's a fishing boat. It's...Our parents!" The boggart guided them, his beady black eyes staring toward Ginny and Ron.

The next morning, only the top of the Salazar's tallest mast stuck from the marsh; Voldemort's ship had sunk from his own waves, his fury at his horcrux being destroyed making him senseless. The silver and green crested flag fluttered amidst tree tops. Ginny walked down the riverbank, to see Percy's canoe was back, wedged into the sand.

Percy lay face down on a plank of wood from the Salazar and paddled it along the marsh with his hands. His grubby green robes clung to him and steamed in the early morning warmth.

"Oi!" yelled Ginny. "Go away." She picked up a rock to throw at him.

"No. Please don't," pleaded Percy.

Ron appeared. "What's going on, Ginny?" He followed her gaze. "Hey, shove off, you!" he yelled.

Percy paddled his plank up to the bank and lay there, exhausted.

"What do you want?" asked Ginny.

"I ... the ship ... it's gone down. I escaped."

"Scum always floats to the surface," observed Ron.

"We were covered in bog. Brown, slimy ... Devil's Snare," Percy shivered. "It pulled us beneath the marsh. I couldn't breathe. Everyone's gone. It was the Imperious Curse making me do those things. I wasn't in my right mind."

Ginny and Ron stared at him.

"I - I'm sorry about what happened to that animal of yours."

"We can't just leave him lying on a plank," said Ron, so they half carried, half led Percy up the path to the ruins of the cottage. After being wrapped in a blanket and put into a corner once again, Percy threw himself to his knees.

"Please," he begged. "You've got it wrong. You have to believe me. I was under a spell. I'm not- I would never-"

His family crowded around him and he burst out crying: "I was a fool!" he roared, so loud George dropped his seashell. "I was a pompous prat, I was a- a-"

"Dark Lord loving, sister-betraying, family-abandoning moron," said Fred.

Percy swallowed.

"Yes, I was!"

"Well, you can't say fairer than that," said Fred, holding out his hand to Percy.