AN : My computer was busted for a few days so I couldn't get this up, which was why it took such a long time. But I was still writing - the traditional way, pen and ink - so I'm typing up Chapter 13, and I'm almost finished with Chapter 15. I hope you enjoy it, because I'm not entirely satisfied with it. WARNING : CHARACTER DEATH(S).

Disclaimer : Characters and setting belong to JK Rowling. She cannot be blamed for the bad writing that ensues from attempts to exploit characters and setting she comes up with.

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"And the holidays begin." Ron grunted as someone shoved him in the belly on the way to the train. He protectively placed his pack in front of himself. He didn't want any more incidents happening.

Harry nodded and grinned. He seemed to have perked up slightly over the past few days. Ron didn't know what to attribute this change to, but he was glad of it anyway. Moody Harry's were not high on his fun list. "Dunno if I'm glad or not." Harry remarked. He smirked and tapped his chin. "Hmm. The Dursleys versus good food, Quidditch and Hedwig." He pretended to think. "Tough choice."

Hermione's eyes were full of sympathy. Ron didn't quite like that.

Ron didn't like it at all.

"I, for one, am glad to be going home." Hermione said briskly, shunning any display of emotion. Ron approved. He definitely approved. "It will give me a chance to go through all my notes thoroughly."

"Wha'?" Ron asked disbelievingly. He stared accusingly at Hermione. "Didn't you score over ninety on all your exams?"

Hermione gave him a look through a lock of curly brown hair. A look that Ron well knew. The kind of look that told him he was an eejit and she was Hermione. "We have our N.E.W.Ts next year, Ron." She said slowly, drawing out the s. "The most important exam we will ever take -"

Ron thanked the good Lord that Ginny decided to pop up at that moment, her red hair wildly dishevelled - probably from one last grope in the corner with Mr. Crotch Disappearer - and her cheeks flushed. "Ron! Please don't talk about exams at home, would you? I know I did badly on my O.W.Ls - " a slight frown crossed her face and was banished - "and I don't want anybody reminding Mum of it till my results are out."

Ron drew himself up to his loftiest height and looked patronisingly down at Ginny. "If you had paid more attention to your books instead of Malfoy -"

Ginny flinched. Harry had the sudden urge to put his arms around her. She looked so pretty - not beautiful, but pretty; Harry had a sudden aversion towards beautiful, not pretty girls - standing there, her robes falling just so - Harry loved that quirk of hers, that made her obsessive about the neatness of her clothes - and her hair, beautiful hair that fell just anyhow. Carrot hair, definitely, setting off the paleness of cheeks and the bright eyes, that were always laughing. Harry loved her happiness, always-happy Ginny.

Ginny laughed suddenly. Harry loved her laugh, it made him think of warm Butterbeer and schoolgirl crushes and warm sun in England. "You're probably right, Ron." She said cheerfully, giving him an affectionate kiss on the cheek. "But just go along with it, all right?"

Ron's face dissolved into a grin and he impulsively hugged her. The next moment he pushed her away, studiously avoiding Harry and Hermione's gaze. "Don't embarrass me, Ginny."

Ginny just laughed again and darted away, smiling at Hermione and Harry.

Harry watched her, unable to tear her eyes away as she grasped Malfoy's hand from behind. He watched as Malfoy turned to her, cool as ever, not betraying any surprise, or embarrassment at holding her hand in front of Crabbe and Goyle.

And then he turned away.

There was no use watching something he would never have.

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"I already warned Fred and George not to mention exams at home." Ginny told Draco, winding her fingers around his fluffy white hair. She smiled teasingly at him. "Although if my O.W.L results turn out bad - " she forbore to say that she knew that they would turn out badly, "they'll have another reason to hate you."

"And I would care because?" Draco drawled. She was sitting on his lap in one of the carriages. He didn't care how it looked to the world. He knew how it looked to the world. Grossly cheesy and embarrassingly sentimental. He really didn't care. He was Draco Malfoy. Accountable to no one.

Well, except his father.

Draco's eyes became hard at the thought of his father. He would be going home to his father, to his father's fleeting approval, to his frequent disapproval. He knew that it would be worse now that they knew about Ginny. He would have to endure barbs about his 'whore' - Draco hated that word, it bore no relation to the smiling, rosy cheeked girl on his lap - all fricking summer long. He was facing a summer of itchiness in his fists and consequent dents in the stone walls that held up his home.

But the worst thing about it was - going home meant going away from Ginny. Draco's arms tightened convulsively around her. Ginny looked questioningly up at him. It was amazing how much one scrap of white skin topped with bundles of bright red hair - the kind of red you only saw in colouring books - had come to mean to him.

"Because." Ginny answered illogically. She looked up at him. "Why so thoughtful looking, Malfoy?"

He wouldn't say it. It was just inviting ridicule.

"I'm going to miss you."

He had said it.

Ginny smiled, the kind of smile that made his chest and groin tighten simultaneously, the kind of smile that made him wish - he would never admit it - that she would never realise that he was the worst person in the world for her.

"You can always come and visit me." Ginny told him. "Or if you can't, there are always owls."

"Owls." Draco sulked.

Ginny laughed and kissed him. The prospect of no Ginny made Draco kiss her back more fervently than usual.

They broke apart, heavy breaths, chests heaving.

"I'm going to miss you too." Ginny said, so softly that Draco almost didn't hear it.

"Why don't you come and visit me?" Draco asked.

Ginny narrowed her eyes and looked at him. "You really expect me to survive in the same household as Lucius Malfoy? He'd probably poison my food."

"And I can't stomach your brothers." Draco said tautly.

Ginny patted him on the hand, like she would a wild animal. "I didn't mean anything against your dad. Our families hate each other. We hate each other's families."

"Couldn't we meet in London?"

"I don't think my parents would let me go to meet my boyfriend." Ginny looked up at Draco with soft eyes and poked him in the stomach. "Isn't the boyfriend supposed to make the sacrifices?"

Draco snorted.

"I guess not." Ginny muttered, chewing on her lower lip. Draco could think of so many better things to do with her lips. He swallowed, hard, and looked away, hoping she'd stop doing that soon.

Draco had a sudden, horrifying thought. "Is Potter going to be coming over to your home during the hols?"

Ginny shrugged. "Probably. He usually does." She looked at Draco and shook her head. "Oh, no. No, you are not. You're not thinking that I'll take one look at him and fall in love with him all over again, are you?"

"Of course not." Draco lied, drawing himself up. "As if you'd like him when you had me -"

But she had, once, Draco remembered, with a sickening thud of his chest.

And day after day of close proximity with Potter the Pearl of Wizardry -

Day after day of close proximity with the guy she'd once adored -

Draco had a sudden, sharp vision of his summer.

Day after day he would be enduring insults directed toward the absent Ginny, so he would never be able to forget that she was in the same house as Potter . . .

_________________

"Slut." Connie accused, pointing a long, tapered fingernail at Fran.

Fran looked hot. "Hey, I didn't know which twin I was kissing, alright? I thought it was -" she paused to think for a long, suspicious minute. "Fred. I mean they look alike, alright?"

Connie's lips pursed. "Well, I think you should have made sure."

Fran just looked at her, bored. "What's the difference? We've never quibbled over guys before." Her eyes narrowed. "Don't tell me you really like George."

Connie flushed instantly. "Of course not -"

"Because if you are, can I just remind you of that pledge we made? You know. The 'To thy hormones ever be true, never commit to a boy lest your actions he misconstrue?' pledge?"

"I take it you're never going to marry?" Connie retorted.

Fran didn't miss a beat. "Not unless he's prepared to shuck over some heavy alimony."

_________________

"Isn't she a wonder?" Fred asked his twin.

"She's a great kisser." George agreed. He looked uneasily over to where the two girls were standing, one fair haired, the other dark, with glances turning towards them like ants to a piece of Every Flavour Beans. "But I am supposed to be with Connie -"

"Eh, forget about it, Georgie. They're girls. They'll work it out."

And the hustle and bustle of the train station went on.

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Lucius watched as his son came up to him, looking moody and belligerent. "Where are you going?" he barked out.

Draco cast him a heavy lidded look, dark and unreadable underneath his lids. It reminded Lucius so much of Narcissa - when she still loved him - that he was afflicted with an acute pain. "To London." Draco finally drawled out. He flicked a glance at his father, a glance that was purposefully scornful. "Or is that not allowed?"

Lucius swept his son with eyes that burned with a cold fire. "Go." He said abruptly. Draco left.

Lucius left an hour later.

They were both going to the same place.

And it wasn't London.

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"Heavens above, it's hot!" Mrs. Weasley said, fanning her plump bosom with Harry's freshly written essay. He could see the ink on it running together, blurring his words so that he would have to rewrite the whole thing - all nine hundred words of it - all over again. He kept quiet. He would gladly have rewritten it twenty times. At least he wasn't at the Dursleys anymore.

"Yeah." Ron agreed, lying on the grass, his face covered with a Transfiguration textbook. He had been sleeping for the past few hours. "Why don't you go in and get us some iced pumpkin juice, Ginny, you lazy thing."

Ginny, who was equally prone on the ground, red hair fanned about her, mumbled something unintelligible, but Harry assumed it was a negative. He looked at her fondly for a second. He liked to imagine that - well, that was all it was, imagination.

"I'll get it." Harry said, getting up. He was the only one who had been sitting up, anyway. The Weasleys were spread about him like little red smurfs on the grass.

"No - no -" Mr Weasley said half-heartedly. "One of you boys get it. Harry's a guest."

There was a decided lack of answers. Harry grinned and went inside. He was searching the fridge for the jug of juice Mrs. Weasley had prepared that morning, when he heard a slight commotion outside. Harry halted and listened intently. He could hear the words "Malfoy" and "getoutofhere" but it died down after a while. Harry went outside quickly, his heart sinking.

Sure enough, it was Draco bloody Malfoy outside, fresh off his Nimbus Whatever-thousand broom, looking cool even in this sweltering heat. Harry's hand tightened around the handle of the jug and he unconsciously clenched his jaw when the Weasleys discreetly turned away as Ginny got up with a huge smile on her face and brought Draco around the back. Ron looked as if he wanted to protest, but George gave him a look and pointed at Ron's crotch. Ron reddened and subsided immediately and Bill, who had appeared to be asleep for the past few hours, gave a loud chortle.

Harry forced himself to loosen his grip on the jug and went outside. He sat down and started to quietly pour out glasses of juice. He thought that Bill - the allegedly asleep Bill - shot him a pitying look, but he was probably imagining it. No one knew about his infatuation with Ginny.

No one.

Well, at least he hoped not.

He watched the members of the Weasley family; they were all so characteristically employed that he couldn't help grinning. Molly and Arthur were leaning against an old oak, fingertips touching, eyes half-closed as they murmured to each other. Bill was also leaning against a tree, a young apple one which didn't have any fruit to speak of. His long ponytail was caught behind him and his five earrings caught the light sharply. His eyes seemed closed. Harry knew they weren't.

Charlie was lazily flipping through a Quidditch magazine, propped against a stack of comics that looked suspiciously like Ron's beloved Martin the Mad Muggle series. Every now and then he'd prod Percy in the small of his back, making Percy jump in the air and scowl ferociously. The only concession Percy had made to the broiling summer day was to come outside. He sat cross-legged, his spine looking as if he'd stuck a broomstick up his arse. A sheaf of papers covered with stamps and tiny writing sat in front of him, and a small, official looking Ministry Owl sat by his side, ready to send off any letter. Every now and then, she let out a small, disapproving hoot. There wasn't much difference between Percy and the owl.

Fred and George had their wands in their hands and were having a war between models of Viktor Krum and Oliver Wood, who'd become Keeper for England the previous year. Krum seemed to be missing an arm and Harry guessed that it was the old model Ron had had in the fourth year.

Ron was lying prone on the ground.

Ginny was out back kissing Draco Malfoy.

Yes, they were all characteristically employed.

Before Harry could wish as he always did, that the Weasley family was his, he looked up and saw several figures with hoods pulled over their faces, flying above them, pointing wands and shooting the Dark Mark into the sky. Then they aimed their wands in unison at the Weasley property as they swooped downwards on their broomsticks.

Harry screamed. His scar burned.

The ball of fire came down.

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Ginny heard Harry scream and broke away from Draco, eyes wide. Before she could think coherently, she saw the Dark Mark in the sky.

And they were all engulfed in fire.

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Harry was in pain. Hot flames licked at his robe sleeve and Harry blindly felt for his wand. Around him he could see nothing but more flames, orange red demons dancing around him.

"Watio - " Harry choked out, his heart pounding. The Weasleys. Water sprayed out of his wand in great spurts and he doused a pathway through the flames, stumbling and coughing. Entire despair overwhelmed him as exhaustion and the cold pain of burnt flesh overtook him. He wouldn't get out of this one alive -

Harry fell onto the grass, the warmth making his body crave coolness, like a hot head on a hot pillow. He fought the overwhelming urge to pass out again, but part of him wanted to lose, so suffocating was the heat around him.

Harry struggled to his feet. "Mr. Weasley." He croaked. "Mrs. Weasley. Bill. Charlie. Percy. Ron." He stumbled again. "Ginny!"

He fought the blackness beckoning him with more determination. Finally he saw somebody, a body lying in the grass. His heart slipped and he knew. He knew the person was dead. It wasn't Ginny, but he couldn't rejoice in that.

Not now.

Slowly, with dread welling up in his stomach, uncurling to spread throughout his body, till his movements were wooden and stilted, he moved forward. He tripped over a burning plank and fell, his head thumping hard on the ground.

Harry closed his eyes briefly, not wanting to get up again.

He opened his eyes.

He got up.

He didn't blink as he moved forwards and saw who it was.

Harry turned his head and vomited.

The sight before him -

It bore no resemblance to the laughing, joking boy he had known. The face was drawn, not in horror or fear, but shock. Eighteen years of life, reduced to an expression of shock.

Harry's thought began to whirl in thoughts he couldn't deal with.

Always been Fred and George.

Now it's just Fred.

Just Fred.

Fred.

Harry fell to his knees and wept.

Minutes later he stumbled to his feet, not looking at George's dead body. It might have been cowardly.

Harry didn't care.

He fought his way through the flames and saw another figure through the angry, hazy tendrils of smoke. Even through the smoke he could see that the figure didn't have red hair.

White as snow.

Bile rose in Harry's throat, along with a hatred so black and hot that he had to retch. When the heaving stopped, he moved forward blindly, and flung himself at him.

Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius flung Harry off easily. "The Potter boy." He sneered. His thin mouth drew up. "An added bonus."

Harry was too angry to use his wand.

He punched Lucius.

Lucius fell.

"Am I worth it?" Harry screamed. "Am I worth it?" he thought of Malfoy, going off with Ginny. "Am I worth it? Am I worth killing your own bloody son?"

Lucius' expression didn't change.

That was when Harry knew.

Anyone, anyone, even a father who genuinely hated his son, would have betrayed something at that point. Surprise, happiness . . . something.

Lucius loved Draco.

And now he had killed him.

Harry loomed over Lucius, staggering slightly, but he wouldn't fall.

Not now.

He loomed over Lucius and looked, just looked, the fury and pain and hate so potent in him that he felt nothing, not even when he lifted his hand and killed Lucius Malfoy.

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"Harry."

Harry whipped around and saw Ron and Mrs. Weasley, having just gotten to their feet. Both were pale and dazed. Harry saw with a calm acceptance that Ron's left arm was missing. Mrs. Weasley was bleeding so profusely everywhere that Harry could not be too relieved over finding her alive.

"Where is everyone?" Mrs. Weasley asked, voice high and panicked. "Where is everyone? Where is Arthur? Where are the children?"

He couldn't tell her about George.

"I'll help you find them." Harry said. He saw that the Dark Mark in the sky had receded. The Death Eaters had gone.

The carnage they had left behind remained.

They all started to subdue the fire.

They found Bill dead.

They found Fred dead.

They found Charlie, unconscious but unscathed, except for a burning cut against his cheek, a scar he would keep for the rest of his days.

They found Percy, cut and bruised, the Ministry owl beside him dead.

Harry couldn't tell them about George.

When they found his body, they saw his vomit.

They said nothing.

There was nothing to say.

With each discovery, Molly Weasley said nothing, but each time, her eyes dimmed a little and her shoulders, usually so straight with the burden and pride of seven children, turned inwards until she looked like an old hunched woman.

"Molly."

They found Arthur Weasley on the ground, both his legs gone, and bleeding so much they each knew he didn't have long to live if they couldn't stop the bleeding.

Molly stopped it and her own wounds, with a point of her wand and a soft spell said through white lips that would never speak of what she had just seen.

Arthur Weasley didn't ask of his children in words, he stared at his wife and asked mutely.

Molly didn't answer.

She stayed with her husband and children.

Ron and Harry moved to the backyard.

They knew they would find Ginny and Draco.

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Ginny woke and found Draco beside her. He looked strangely young as he slept, harsh breaths making his sleep restless. Ginny watched.

She couldn't move.

She shook Draco urgently. "Wake up." Her breath came faster. She remembered it all. "Wake up." Her shaking became more urgent. "Wake up. Wake up." She remembered it all. She thought of Harry's scream and began to tremble. Oh God. Her family. "Wake up. Wake up. Wake up -"

"Ginny. Ginny." Draco was shushing her and she realised dimly that his hair was singed. She couldn't stop shaking him, but he was calming her down, as upset as she was. "Ginny. You're getting hysterical. "Shh." He was comforting her. "It's all right. Shhh."

Ginny didn't cry. There was no time to cry. She calmed herself, holding herself in tight control. "We have to go find my family." She said. She trembled.

'We don't have to." Draco said gently, holding her tightly. He pointed. "They're here."

Across the backyard, across the blackened, hollow shell of the Burrow, Harry stood, with Ron by his side, and Ginny's heart gave an awful leap.

Harry stood, straight and tall, sooty and dirty and bleeding. His black hair stood on end and his body was in bad shape. But the expression on his face -

It was frightening. The features she knew so well were unfamiliar, tight and drawn, such fearless, blind hate filled his eyes that Ginny clutched Draco's hand tighter. This was not the Harry she knew so well. She knew, with a heart deep pang of pity and sadness that Harry had come into his inheritance.

__________________

Draco watched warily as Potter and Weasley number six crossed the yard. His eyes met Potter's and for once no animosity flashed between them. They shared something now.

Ginny left his arms and went to her brother. She didn't know -

She knew -

"Ron -"

Ron said nothing, but his eyes looked into his sister's with such bleak grief that Ginny recoiled in blind fear. She had to know.

"Harry -"

And her voice made him want to cry again, as he had by George's body.

He couldn't tell her.

"No." Ginny said, her voice hoarse, backing away. "No." She read the truth in the answers they didn't give her.

She turned to run to the front yard.

She was stopped.

She slammed into a tall, thin body.

The body of a snake.

Voldemort.