A/N: Writer's block is a difficult thing to overcome, Tooieleafs has just come to know. Very hard…. Never give up, however. Have fun reading. Thanks for all the comments, keep 'em coming!

what does it matter to you

when you got a job to do

you gotta do it well

you gotta give the other fellow hell

"Live and Let Die" Paul McCartney and Wings

Chapter Twenty- Four

Live and Let Die

An inexplicable silence fell over the path flagged of stone, a silence shattered only by the dull reverberation of footsteps coming from somewhere on the path itself. The current of the nearby rivers, though strong as ever, was forgetting to roar. The birds and various woodland creatures were forgetting to make their usual chattering noise of early morning. The forest seemed to be hushed in either excitement or dread, and the footsteps continued on, growing slightly louder and resounding quicker than before.

These slight thuds reached Harry's ears after a moment—but that was far beyond his reasoning of waking up. A droplet of water fell from a tree limb and smacked him right in the eye, and, although it was closed, caused him to sit straight up, feverishly glancing around.

A splitting headache worked its way into a crescendo within his sleep-fogged mind, and he fell consciously back to the ground, clutching his scar in agony.

Harry…

He nearly cried out as the pain intensified worse than ever, searing hotly through his forehead.

Wake up…you have to wake up….

I can't…my head…make the pain stop….

"Harry. Harry."

Someone was shaking him slightly, a voice registering panic was whispering soundly above him as he tried to gain focus in his eyes. After a moment, the voice's owner came into clear perceptiveness—Ginny was on her knees before him, either of her hands clutching his respective arm fearfully, worry betrayed in her eyes.

Groggily Harry tried to open his mouth and say something, but no sound came out. Ginny gingerly lifted him to his feet; awkwardly he stumbled and nearly fell over, Ginny's arm shooting out to catch him just in time.

"Are you all right?"

"No," answered Harry flatly. "I feel dead."

A short look crossed Ginny's face as she put her arm around his shoulder patiently.

"Where're we going?" mumbled Harry incoherently, the world continuing to slur before him.

"We've got to get you to the hospital wing. Or at least out of this forest. There are Death Eaters everyone—I've only just gotten away from the lot of them."

"Are you all right?"

She smiled thinly.

"I've felt better. Work with me here and we might manage to save both our lives today."

Harry nodded, still a bit dumbstruck, and hobbled his way up the path with Ginny at his side helping him every once in a while to maintain balance. The wood was covered with yelps and shouts, presumably by Death Eaters, and each time one reached their ears, hope began to dissipate of their leaving safely.

"We can make it," gritted Harry time after time, though even the flagged path hadn't ended—he knew much more treacherous grounds were on their way shortly.

Abruptly, just as the pathway was cutting over the narrows of a river, a triumphant cry rang out.

"OVER HERE! THEY ARE OVER HERE!"

"Shit." Harry desperately grabbed the hem of Ginny's robes and prepared to jump into the toiling waters.

"I can't swim!" hissed Ginny despairingly.

"I'll hold you up, just trust me!"

Another shout sounded, growing louder.

"But I can't—"

"You have—to trust me. One…two…three—jump!"

He plunged into the churning waters, icy cold washing over his body and chilling him to the very bone. It was all Harry could do to keep himself and Ginny above the water for the length of the trip down the river, his arms propelling them onward as he prayed with every fiber that there wasn't a waterfall. Ginny scrambled her feet, helping them slightly, but mostly it was Harry's strength that kept them afloat in the water.

The river was mud-soaked from the previous week's rain, its foam-covered waters washing over the banks and rapids worse than ever. The waters churned around them as Harry pulled them both to a small isle where the river forked, barely landing the both of them on solid ground—trees and bushes loomed around their soppy forms as Harry grabbed Ginny's hand and lightly wound a path amidst the trees until a soft grassy spot came into sight.

Harry plopped down on the grass in exhaustion as storm clouds heaved their way in once more, and rain began falling from the sky, spattering down against the trees and onto the disrupted water surface. Ginny sat down next to him, both covered from head to toe in mud and water, and folded into him, shaking with either cold or anxiety—or a little of both. Harry let his arms glide around her waist without thinking, wondering where Ron and Hermione had ended up at.

They had just disappeared mysteriously before the Dementors appeared—they had gotten away, hadn't they? Could the Dementors have gotten to them? Or—Voldemort? Were they at this very moment being tortured with the Cruciatus Curse for information on where Harry was?

He felt Ginny give his hand a quick squeeze with her own.

"I…I could light a fire, if you want?" he stuttered, his teeth chattering from the frigid air and water. She nodded, and he took out his wand, thankful it wasn't in shards. "Incendio."

A small bluebell fire lit next to where they sat, bathing Harry and Ginny in a small amount of warmth.

"I guess there's not really any point in trying to find our way back to the school for now," heaved Harry, his eyes scanning the forest for any signs of life. "We may as well wait until the rain subsides."

Ginny nodded against him, still shivering slightly. A silence settled in, but not awkward or uncomfortable—just nice and peaceful to Harry, who let his eyes fall shut.

"Why did you let me stay with you?" asked Ginny suddenly.

"I couldn't let the Death Eaters have you," said Harry sharply without opening his eyes.

"But we both could have been hurt in the river."

"Nah. Just like a big bath." He tried to sound flippant and failed horribly.

"You can only cheat death so many times," whispered Ginny, her voice quavering.

"I realise that, Miss Weasley," said Harry, finally pulling off an air of ineptitude. "But I'll continue to try until I one day fail—in the words of some greatly wise philosopher—'Death will stare each of us in the eye one day—what can we do but stare back and laugh?'"

Ginny actually let out a small chuckle, at which Harry let a sigh of relief silently filter from his mouth. She was back to her normal self.

"You're impossible, Harry Potter."

"Is that such a bad thing?"

"In some cases, yes—others, no."

Their faces inched closer together, closing the already minute gap between them.

"Such as?" he whispered, a teasing edge still to his husky voice.

"You drive me insane," she said simply, something Harry had never realised he had accomplished.

"A crazy, over-the-edge insane? Or just a dizzy kind of feeling…like you need to fall over?"

His eyes began merrily to dance behind his glasses, and though the thunder rolled around them and the lightning flashed as well, Harry let his lips tenderly meet Ginny's in a soft, momentary kiss. It was broken immediately by Ginny herself, who pulled back, a kind of dazed look in her eyes.

"D'you mean it?" she whispered, searching his face.

"I do."

Her face lifted once more to meet his. She kissed him and kept on kissing him until everything around them seemed to dissipate entirely, lost in each other's arms.

"Harry! Ginny! Where are you?!"

Ron brought his hands down from being cupped around his mouth, worry edging his face. He glanced back to Hermione, then to Sirius, who had accompanied them in a small search for the aforementioned couple.

"You don't reckon Voldemort got them, do you?" he asked cautiously.

"That Song Charm was way too powerful for anyone to've made a flight from it," shrugged Sirius. "Even Albus felt it, and he was all the way in his study at Hogwarts—miles from where you lot were."

"How did he cast such a Song Charm?" uttered Hermione in disbelief. "That is very advanced magic!"

"So is the Ribbonfire Charm—and he managed that quite well," said Ron.

"Fire Charm," said Hermione sharply.

"Pardon?"

"It's called the Fire Charm."

"The nickname it was titled during Voldemort's days was the Ribbonfire Charm, though," said Sirius, breaking up the argument before it could go into full-fledged war. "Just the proper name is Fire Charm—or Pyr. Take your pick."

Ron gave Hermione a bit of a snooty smirk, his eyes sparkling. She scoffed slightly at him.

"Concentrate on the moment, Ron, Hermione, and maybe we'll manage to find Harry sometime by next week!" snapped Sirius, his temper on edge as rain began spattering down disdainfully onto their cloaks.

Giving each other withered looks, the teenagers obliged and scooted closer to each other for warmth. Ron's hands went back up to his mouth.

"Harry! Ginny!" he shouted.

As with the several other times he'd done just that, nothing answered him but rainfall and thunder.

"I'm worried," said Sirius suddenly, glancing self-consciously back at the couple. "Last night was full moon—Remus was out, he lives nearby—what if they were bitten? I know both are capable of taking care of themselves—"

"Ginny's my little sister, Sirius!" yelped Ron. "She couldn't take care of herself if her life depended on it! She needs me, Fred, and George—and the rest of her family!"

"She's grown up, Ron. She'll always be younger than you—but she won't be your 'little' sister for all eternity. Someday you'll have to accept that someone will fancy her, and she'll like—or even love—them back."

Ron guffawed at Sirius.

"You aren't suggesting—"

"I'm not telling you to assume anything," pointed out Sirius quietly as he scanned the bend of a small river for footprints. "But it will happen. It might've already happened."

"And since when are you the top authority of love and life?" feverishly sniped Ron, anger flaring brilliantly, though immediately he regretted speaking that way to Sirius—the man swelled up, eyes that hadn't lost their haunted look flashing dangerously.

"I don't consider myself an authority over anyone, Ron," he said quietly, anger secluded into a small growl, "but I've lived life. I know what it's like to fall in love—and to be rejected." He teetered, as though about to spiel more, but refrained quickly, his face falling. "And if you haven't noticed the way Harry looks at Ginny—" he cleared his throat, blinking "—then you're blind as I've heard, Ron."

Ron was registered speechless for the first time as long as he could recall. Except for that time after the Yule Ball last year, a nagging voice reminded him, which quickly he told to shut up.

"Harry, Ginny!" he called aloud.

"R-Ron? Is that you?" a muffled voice responded, and for the first time since Harry and Ginny had gone missing yesterday, hope sparked inside of them.

"Yes! Where are you?" shouted Ron in reply.

"We're stuck on an island in the fork of a river, the water is too rough to swim ashore," answered the voice.

"Are you hurt?"

"Not remotely. Just a little wet and a little cold."

Relief flooded Ron as Sirius immediately transformed into the great black dog form.

"Keep talking, Sirius is coming after you!"

"About what?" shouted his sister's voice furiously. She imitated a high, nonchalant voice, saying sardonically, "Oh, the weather's just peachy here, we've never felt better—yeah right!"

"Although I don't recall ever feeling more content in my life!" piped in Harry's voice, amusement evident.

"I actually quite agree with you," complied Ginny.

"What on earth are you on about?" asked a bewildered Ron.

"Quite a colourful story, really, remind us to relate it to you sometime—sometime when we're not on a rain-flooded island in the middle of a river!" Though they were shouting at each other, Harry's voice still carried a flippant tone to it, rather shocking Ron.

"Sirius!" shouted Ginny as the form of Sirius Black popped up amid the trees on "their" island.

Harry rushed to embrace his godfather.

"Good to see you!" he said thickly. "Though I wouldn't mind for different circumstances…."

Sirius chuckled, anger leaving him.

"Good t' see you're still joking, just like Prongs," he said happily to Harry, ruffling the boy's already-mussed hair.

"How are we supposed to get back, exactly?" asked Ginny, bemused.

"Hop on my back, I s'pose," said Sirius. "When I'm in dog-form I can swim quite efficiently, even in such waters," he said in a mock-fanciful tone. "Dare to take a trip?"

"You first," said Harry, lightly tapping Ginny's shoulder and giving her a small, secretive small (which of course Sirius didn't miss, and, knowing him, would be telling Remus and everyone else all about Harry and Ginny's secret romance life by tomorrow morning). "I'll go second."

Ginny nodded firmly, and once more Sirius was a dog.

She gave Harry a quick kiss on the lips, then latched herself around Sirius's middle; he bounded off towards the rampant river and jumped eagerly in. Harry watched a bit sadly, knowing soon their island would be left behind, nothing but memories left of it….

Sirius was back in an instant as Ginny, Ron, and Hermione had a small reunion before fretfully watching the second stage of the rescue. Harry was quite a lot heavier than Ginny, therefore proposing a small problem—would Sirius be able to keep the both of them afloat in the river? The current picked up, washing more and more over the minuscule shores, and, pressed with time, adrenaline pumped through both Harry and Sirius.

In another instant, without realising what was happening, Sirius and Harry were back on safe grounds, leaving only another reunion to begin between Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

Behind them, the small island was sucked under the fast-flowing river.

"'Your punishment is impending,'" repeated Harry dully, holding a slip of blue parchment in his hand, twirling it slightly.

"That's all yours says?" smiled Ginny sarcastically. "Mine has a whole lecture of 'being a responsible friend and girlfriend to you, and not letting you lot wander off when you're not supposed to.' How did McGonagall know?"

Harry gave a small shrug, smiling over at Ginny as the fire crackled in the common room.

"Everyone will find out eventually. Even the professors." He shuddered at the thought of endless teasing from Professor Trins and Tallow…and then he remembered Tallow was dead, and grew quiet.

"I have to go practice my bass," said Ginny after a moment, glancing around for Ron, then giving him a quick kiss.

"Be careful out at the pitch," cautioned Harry, allowing himself to drift in and out of consciousness.

"Quidditch practice tomorrow," said Fred's voice at one point. Harry nodded.

"Will you pose for a group photo with me and my brother?" an excited Dennis Creevey had marveled.

"No."

"Aw, shucks!"

Next moment, Hermione plopped down next to him.

"Homework, Harry," she had said in a small but sure voice.

He groaned.

"In what?"

"Charms, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Care of Magical Creatures—"

"Point taken!"

And so Harry settled in over a load of books, scratching parchment with his quill for hours, and finally falling asleep without realising Hermione was no longer conscious as well.

***

A/N: I'm sorry this is so short, I know I promised a longer chapter last chapter, but I've had a bout of writer's block since then. Sorry for that! But I've new ideas in my head now, promising ideas, and my friends are taking time from their own hands to help me reorganise the plot I destroyed with immature writing—bare with me. Please comment on whether or not my writing's been improving anymore—I've tried to be more descriptive as well! Goodbye for now!

Oh yeah—and I gave up on writing American-English (color-colour) and have gone to my native language (Canadian-English). And excuse any other mistakes, because I haven't edited this chapter yet. If I find any major errors I'll repost it. Bye!