TW: Talk of killing, scarring and knives.

Interlude V

Ginny P.O.V

Whatever could be said about her older brothers, and overprotective was one of the words, Ginny knew her brothers were extremely smart and calculating. They would never let her do something that would get her killed, but they would allow her to help. Weasleys were all built from the same cloth, after all.

However, after the speech that Bill gave, Ginny was too busy trying to get people to acknowledge that they were wrong rather than working outside. While Ginny was not as emotionally connected as she could be, she was infinitely more patient and understanding than Ron or Percy, both much too caught up in their own worlds.

Bill or Charlie would have been a better option, much calmer and more laid-back than her, but Bill was the only one who knew where the other houses were, and their one point of contact between all three places. Charlie was the only one who could control Bill's more rash and impulsive ideas, if he didn't join in.

"How exactly can we kill death eaters?" A young woman asked as she twisted her sweater in her hands.

Ginny looked at all the people surrounding her in the room and stifled the urge to yawn. She'd been up early to talk to Charlie and Bill, who left again that morning. And since then, she'd been stuck with groups of people, answering their every question.

"Cutting curse to the throat. Bone breaking curse to the ribs, followed by a laughing jinx. Slippery floors and sharp objects. A tight Incarcerous spell around the throat. Excess soap in their mouths." Ginny shrugged lightly. "This is merely an easy list for those who don't know much magic or aren't capable of thinking on their feet. Everyone else can think up any number of creative methods without even touching the Unforgivables or Dark Curses."

"I still say we shouldn't be killing people. It is morally incomprehensible!" Someone shouted from the back, and Ginny clenched her fists, taking a deep breath.

"Is it really?" A voice snapped, carrying through the entire room. Hermione was standing at the door, glaring nastily around the room. "While you cower away from the 'morally incomprehensible', people are being tortured. Muggleborns and half-bloods who know what's going on as well as muggles, who don't."

Ginny snapped her mouth shut, trying to stop her jaw from falling to the floor. Hermione hadn't interacted with others much, choosing to devour all the books Bill and Charlie gave her. Ginny knew her reasoning – if she could find something that would allow them to save Harry and kill Voldemort…. It's what gave her hope too, kept her moving.

"While Voldemort was busy with his little tantrums across Britain," Ginny could understand why Hermione used that word. How powerful Voldemort was now, well, there was no question those days were tantrums and power plays. " - my friends and I were captured and thrown in Malfoy Manor."

There was a hush around the room, as everyone watched on in horrified silence. There were so many rumors about what happened in Malfoy Manor. No one had heard anything between the arrival of the trio and then the Battle at Hogwarts. Then, Harry had died and everyone's concerns were getting out alive and nothing else.

Hermione rolled the sleeve of her left hand upwards, and in the same place as the Dark Mark would be, there was a healing wound – letters carved into the skin by muggle methods. Gasps surge across the hall, as more people see what Hermione survived.

Hermione's face contorted. "She will do this to every magical of 'dirty blood'."

Whispers started up, growing to a deafening roar.

BANG!

Silence fell.

"How is killing people going to solve the problem?"

Hermione met the man's eye. "We don't have a choice because it's either them or us. When someone attacks, you fight in defense and there's a difference between cold-blooded murder and self-defense."

Ginny interrupted. "Besides, we are in a war. And in all the wars in history, those who won killed more people and left more devastation than those who lost. To silence a lunatic and his fanatic cult, you need to get them to fear you."

"And the only thing they fear is death." Hermione completed.

No one said anything, even as they shifted uncomfortably. Hermione shrugged. "If you want to sit this out and leave children to perform morally incomprehensible acts, then do so. But those children are your future. Think about what you want communicated in the future, if there is one."

She left the room, and Ginny scoffed at the scandalized faces before following her. Even if no one was going to help them, they were going to fight this war for a chance at a better world. A world that Harry, George, Fred, Tonks and Remus had died for. A world that she would do her best to protect.

When she found Hermione, it had almost been two hours.

Ginny had been intercepted by her mum and Percy, and a mother requesting she help her children. She had completed the tasks as quickly as possible, so she could ensure Hermione was fine. They needed their main researcher to be at her top form (as good as she could be with her best friend dead).

Ginny found Hermione sitting by the window, staring out at the row of calm, peaceful houses with nothing odd going on. A mother took her children out and a father played with his two girls; a teen walked his dog, listening to music and three girls giggled amongst themselves.

"Mind if I join you?" She asked, and Hermione jerked.

Ginny sat down on the bed, not saying anything. Hermione would break the silence eventually, too uncomfortable to leave it to fester when she didn't have something to occupy her. In a matter of minutes Hermione started speaking, but Ginny hadn't expected that topic of conversation.

"When she was doing this, she told me that if we wanted to sully the world with our blood, then she wouldn't give us the honor of using something as precious as magic against us. She tortured me with a knife because she believes those of dirty blood should die with the weapons were claim are better than magic."

Ginny remained silent, moving slightly closer to the older girl. Hermione didn't deserve this, no one did.

"This place, this magical world… it's wonderful." There was a wistfulness in Hermione's tone and posture. The way she looked out of the window, imagining a life she could have had.

"You wonder what would've happened if you weren't a witch," Ginny said.

"Hmmm…"

There was a comfortable silence and Ginny spoke first. "Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I gave that diary to my father or told everyone about it. If I'd never met Harry, or he hadn't saved me. I talk to Charlie about this sometimes."

"And what does he tell you?"

Hermione turned away from the window, looking at Ginny curiously.

Ginny deepened her voice to imitate Charlie's voice. "Don't dwell on what-ifs Gin. If you do, you'll lose your life in your mind, stuck thinking about what-ifs and losing touch with reality."

Hermione shook her head. "Your imitation is terrible."

"Recently, he told me, if dwelling in what-ifs is what wins us this battle, then that's what we should be doing." Ginny whispered, unable to shake how much that statement affected her.

Charlie wasn't one to retract something he said or change his opinion. It made her want to go back to easier times, where all she was worried about was whether she could borrow their brooms. She looked out of the window.

The teenage boy was flirting with one of the giggling girls, while the other two cooed over the dog. There was an old lady, a grandmother, calling a young boy inside. It was a normal scene, nothing wrong and yet, Ginny felt like everything was out of order. These people don't know about the war, going about their normal lives unaware that there was a maniac out for their blood.

Ginny closed her eyes. The wizarding world had been like that once upon a time, a hundred years ago – before Grindelwald and Voldemort, before wars and plagues and torturers.

"Ginny," Hermione's voice was panicked, and Ginny's eyes snapped open.

The surroundings weren't normal anymore. There were two black-cloaked people walking up the street. Ginny followed their progress with bated breath. Hermione had turned away, sending one Patronus, two, three, four, out.

"What are they doing here?" Hermione hissed, leaning towards the window.

One figure stopped, and the other followed their lead. Abruptly, the first figure looked up, straight at the window Ginny and Hermione were at. With a curse, they ducked down, hoping they hadn't been sighted.

"We need to find out what they're doing here," Ginny said, when her heart wasn't threatening to jump out of her throat. "They can't find everyone here, all the children…"

Hermione nodded beside her. "The porch that runs around the house is under the wards. We could go out there."

"Tell everyone we need fresh air?"

Hermione sighed, shaking her head violently, sending curls flying in all directions. Ginny blocked her face, spitting out a curse.

She looked at Hermione, gestured and then, slowly inched herself upward. Chancing a look out of the window, she saw that they were still on the street, not looking at their house anymore, but pacing around and pointing at other houses.

"Come on, mighty researcher. We're killing these fools."

Well, guys... an extra chapter this week! Thank you to all of you who commented! And I hope you're enjoying the story!