Lost
Disclaimer-I own nothing, everything in here belongs to J.K. Rowling except the plot, and whethe or not Blaise is a boy or girl....well, that's up to her.
A/N Thanks everyone who's reading this. You guys are great, thanks for taking an interest. Please remember to review, it's makes my day when you guys do. So please, tell me how I can improve, if you liked it, or just review to chat. Thanks everyone!
Summary: Ginny is in Azkaban, accused of a murder she didn't commit. The only people who believe her are her worst enemy and an old friend. Can they save Ginny before time runs out?
Chapter One-
"New case, sleepyhead." Blaise Zabini slammed a manilla folder down on Draco Malfoy's new oak desk. Draco jolted from his sleep like daze and looked around. "Huh?" he questioned, rubing his eyes and pushing his blonde hair out of his eyes.
"Not getting a lot of sleep, are you?" Blaise quesioned sitting down in the chair across the desk, his eyebrows raised.
"I've been sleeping on Crabbe's couch for the lasty week and a half." Draco responded, carefully picking up the folder and opening it up. "My rent went up and I got evicted. Who have we got?"
"A Weasley," Draco's partner chuckled lightly.
Draco looked at Blaise with surprise. "Seriously? I thought the Weasley's could do no wrong."
"Apparently not." Blaise pointed at the folder. "Possible homicide. Weasley's wand was used for the murder, we're sure of that."
"And which Weasley is it?"
"The youngest one, the girl. Virginia Elizabeth Weasley. Twenty-one years old."
Blaise answered.
"And the victim?" Draco asked as he leafed through the file. But then he saw it on the bottom of the first page. The victim's name printed in bold. "Her brother," Draco answered his own questioned. "Ronald Weasley."
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Harry Potter and Hermione walked slowly behind the heay wooden coffin. Hermione cried silently, her tears dropping to the floor, a single rose to lay on the casket in her right hand. Behind her, Harry held her steady, his strong hands bracing her shoulders. He wasn't crying, but Hermione could see, no feel, the sadness in his deep green eyes.
In a pew in the front of the church, Mrs. Weasley sobbed into a white hankerchief as her dazed husband stood beside her, not watching. His eyes were glazed, like they had een for the last three days as he stood solemn, not touching his wife.
As the service egan, the vicar said a few words, summing up Ron's short life. Hermione sat behind the remaining Weasley's as she held Harry's hand in her own. This wasn't possible. As the music played, a slow, sorrowful tune, nothing that Ron would have wanted to e layed. But Ron was no longer here. He was a memory. One that Hermione would never forget....
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"It's just not possible," Hermione mumbled, more to herself than to Harry as they walked down the deserted street. They had left the Weasley home, full of sad stares and silence. Hermione listened for some noise, but none could be heard as Harry escorted her home to her apartment. "It's just not possible."
Harry draped his arm over Hermione's shoulder and pulled her close as she felt tears brim her eyes. "It'll be alright, Herm." Harry whispered soothingly.
"No, it won't be alright," Hermione protested, pulling away from Harry's grasp. She stared at him, trying not to burst out in tears. "It's not going to be alright! Our best friend is dead, Harry, can't you see that? He won't be alright, Ginny won't be alright! She's sitting somewhere, locked up in a cell in Azkaban, not even able to come to her own brother's funeral!"
Harry's gaze became cold and stony. "And she deserves to be in a cell, Hermione."
"Oh, Harry," Hermione's stare faltered as she took Harry's ice cold hand. "YOu don't believe...you don't believe what they say, do you?"
Harry pulled out of Hermione's grip and continued walking away, his voice soft, yet icy and unconcerned. "The proof is there, Hermione. Stop being so blind. Don't protect Ginny. What she gets is what she deserves." Hermione ran to catch up with Harry as his voice cracked. She saw tears flowing from his eyes as he dropped to his knees. She crouched down and stroked his hair as he sobbed.
"She killed him, Hermione. She killed him."
"I know, Harry." Hermione answered, lying. "It'll be oky. It'll be okay."
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Draco sipped his coffee and he looked through the file laying before him. It was all there. Enough to have any wiard council convict the Weasley girl of murdering her own brother. But something wasn't making sense. Her wand was their when he was found.
There was blood on her clothes when the Ministry of Magic found her th next morning. She hd rambled on about seeing a shawdow, some sort of dark shawdow efore they locked her away. And now she had become silent and reclusive. She wouldn't talk to anyone.
Draco sighed and rubbed his eyes. He was so tired and now this case was bothering him. The evidence all seemed so perfect. If Draco had learned one thing from his years on the Ministry Defense League, it was that no crime was perfect. But this one, the evidence seemed airtight. Enough to sick the dementors on a twenty one year old girl.
There was a picture in the file. One of a smiling, alert seventeen year old girl. Her brown eyes were full of vigor, full of life and then there was another picture. One contrasting so much. The life was gone from the girls eyes. They were dull, as if the world had taken the shine away. Her lively bright red hair was matted and dirty. She was in custody, eing taken away to Azkaban. Draco couldn't help but feel bad for the girl his father had taught him to hate.
Wake up, Draco, he told himself, mentally slapping himself to stay awake. Who's side are you on? he questioned. He was here to prosecute the criminals, to bring them to justic. Not to feel sorry for some ruthless killer.
"What are you doing here?" Blaise questioned, staring at Draco in surprise. "Go home, it's after midnight."
"Are you forgetting?" Draco asked, turning back to the file. "I don't have a home. I have a couch in somebodies old, smelly apartment."
"Don't stay here to long." Blaise warned. "I heard the night janitor is a little...weird in the head."
Draco nodded as Blaise shut the door to his office behind him. He's right, Draco thought to himself. I need to leave. As Draco pulled his jacket over his shoulders, he shut the manilla flder. He picked it up and watched another picture fell to the floor. Curiously, he crouched down and picked it up, squinting as he looked at it.
It was a brother and sister. The brother's arm was draped over her shoulder as they smiled for the camera. There's no way, Draco thought to himself. This isn't the same girl. Draco stuffed the picture back in the folder, thinking only one thought. "there was no way that that girl was a killer.
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It was cold, and she was hungry. That's how they treat you when you ecome hated. When you're a killer. "Stop it," the girl hissed to herself. It was the first thing she had said in almsot a week. She had thought that maybe her voice had disappeared, but it was still. there.
"Ron." she whispered the name, tears spilling down her cheeks. "How oculd he? How could he do it?" Ginny banished the thought from her head. All she had left was memories. And soon, she wouldn't even have those. Once they sent the dementors. She would only be a hollow shell, never able to explain to her mother exactly what happened. Her mother...her mother would never want to see her again after all the rumors that must be flying around.
A guard walked by, rustling the bars as he passed. He stopped by Ginny's cell and looked inside. Ginny quickly closed her eyes and pretend to be fast aslepp when she knew she would probably never sleep restfully again.
Ginny tears fell rapidly as she thought of her family. Of her brother, lost, somewhere else. Just like she was. She was lost. Lost in this dark cell where she could never escape. She was lost, and no one would be able to find her.
Disclaimer-I own nothing, everything in here belongs to J.K. Rowling except the plot, and whethe or not Blaise is a boy or girl....well, that's up to her.
A/N Thanks everyone who's reading this. You guys are great, thanks for taking an interest. Please remember to review, it's makes my day when you guys do. So please, tell me how I can improve, if you liked it, or just review to chat. Thanks everyone!
Summary: Ginny is in Azkaban, accused of a murder she didn't commit. The only people who believe her are her worst enemy and an old friend. Can they save Ginny before time runs out?
Chapter One-
"New case, sleepyhead." Blaise Zabini slammed a manilla folder down on Draco Malfoy's new oak desk. Draco jolted from his sleep like daze and looked around. "Huh?" he questioned, rubing his eyes and pushing his blonde hair out of his eyes.
"Not getting a lot of sleep, are you?" Blaise quesioned sitting down in the chair across the desk, his eyebrows raised.
"I've been sleeping on Crabbe's couch for the lasty week and a half." Draco responded, carefully picking up the folder and opening it up. "My rent went up and I got evicted. Who have we got?"
"A Weasley," Draco's partner chuckled lightly.
Draco looked at Blaise with surprise. "Seriously? I thought the Weasley's could do no wrong."
"Apparently not." Blaise pointed at the folder. "Possible homicide. Weasley's wand was used for the murder, we're sure of that."
"And which Weasley is it?"
"The youngest one, the girl. Virginia Elizabeth Weasley. Twenty-one years old."
Blaise answered.
"And the victim?" Draco asked as he leafed through the file. But then he saw it on the bottom of the first page. The victim's name printed in bold. "Her brother," Draco answered his own questioned. "Ronald Weasley."
--------------------------------
Harry Potter and Hermione walked slowly behind the heay wooden coffin. Hermione cried silently, her tears dropping to the floor, a single rose to lay on the casket in her right hand. Behind her, Harry held her steady, his strong hands bracing her shoulders. He wasn't crying, but Hermione could see, no feel, the sadness in his deep green eyes.
In a pew in the front of the church, Mrs. Weasley sobbed into a white hankerchief as her dazed husband stood beside her, not watching. His eyes were glazed, like they had een for the last three days as he stood solemn, not touching his wife.
As the service egan, the vicar said a few words, summing up Ron's short life. Hermione sat behind the remaining Weasley's as she held Harry's hand in her own. This wasn't possible. As the music played, a slow, sorrowful tune, nothing that Ron would have wanted to e layed. But Ron was no longer here. He was a memory. One that Hermione would never forget....
----------------------------
"It's just not possible," Hermione mumbled, more to herself than to Harry as they walked down the deserted street. They had left the Weasley home, full of sad stares and silence. Hermione listened for some noise, but none could be heard as Harry escorted her home to her apartment. "It's just not possible."
Harry draped his arm over Hermione's shoulder and pulled her close as she felt tears brim her eyes. "It'll be alright, Herm." Harry whispered soothingly.
"No, it won't be alright," Hermione protested, pulling away from Harry's grasp. She stared at him, trying not to burst out in tears. "It's not going to be alright! Our best friend is dead, Harry, can't you see that? He won't be alright, Ginny won't be alright! She's sitting somewhere, locked up in a cell in Azkaban, not even able to come to her own brother's funeral!"
Harry's gaze became cold and stony. "And she deserves to be in a cell, Hermione."
"Oh, Harry," Hermione's stare faltered as she took Harry's ice cold hand. "YOu don't believe...you don't believe what they say, do you?"
Harry pulled out of Hermione's grip and continued walking away, his voice soft, yet icy and unconcerned. "The proof is there, Hermione. Stop being so blind. Don't protect Ginny. What she gets is what she deserves." Hermione ran to catch up with Harry as his voice cracked. She saw tears flowing from his eyes as he dropped to his knees. She crouched down and stroked his hair as he sobbed.
"She killed him, Hermione. She killed him."
"I know, Harry." Hermione answered, lying. "It'll be oky. It'll be okay."
---------------------------
Draco sipped his coffee and he looked through the file laying before him. It was all there. Enough to have any wiard council convict the Weasley girl of murdering her own brother. But something wasn't making sense. Her wand was their when he was found.
There was blood on her clothes when the Ministry of Magic found her th next morning. She hd rambled on about seeing a shawdow, some sort of dark shawdow efore they locked her away. And now she had become silent and reclusive. She wouldn't talk to anyone.
Draco sighed and rubbed his eyes. He was so tired and now this case was bothering him. The evidence all seemed so perfect. If Draco had learned one thing from his years on the Ministry Defense League, it was that no crime was perfect. But this one, the evidence seemed airtight. Enough to sick the dementors on a twenty one year old girl.
There was a picture in the file. One of a smiling, alert seventeen year old girl. Her brown eyes were full of vigor, full of life and then there was another picture. One contrasting so much. The life was gone from the girls eyes. They were dull, as if the world had taken the shine away. Her lively bright red hair was matted and dirty. She was in custody, eing taken away to Azkaban. Draco couldn't help but feel bad for the girl his father had taught him to hate.
Wake up, Draco, he told himself, mentally slapping himself to stay awake. Who's side are you on? he questioned. He was here to prosecute the criminals, to bring them to justic. Not to feel sorry for some ruthless killer.
"What are you doing here?" Blaise questioned, staring at Draco in surprise. "Go home, it's after midnight."
"Are you forgetting?" Draco asked, turning back to the file. "I don't have a home. I have a couch in somebodies old, smelly apartment."
"Don't stay here to long." Blaise warned. "I heard the night janitor is a little...weird in the head."
Draco nodded as Blaise shut the door to his office behind him. He's right, Draco thought to himself. I need to leave. As Draco pulled his jacket over his shoulders, he shut the manilla flder. He picked it up and watched another picture fell to the floor. Curiously, he crouched down and picked it up, squinting as he looked at it.
It was a brother and sister. The brother's arm was draped over her shoulder as they smiled for the camera. There's no way, Draco thought to himself. This isn't the same girl. Draco stuffed the picture back in the folder, thinking only one thought. "there was no way that that girl was a killer.
----------------------------------------------
It was cold, and she was hungry. That's how they treat you when you ecome hated. When you're a killer. "Stop it," the girl hissed to herself. It was the first thing she had said in almsot a week. She had thought that maybe her voice had disappeared, but it was still. there.
"Ron." she whispered the name, tears spilling down her cheeks. "How oculd he? How could he do it?" Ginny banished the thought from her head. All she had left was memories. And soon, she wouldn't even have those. Once they sent the dementors. She would only be a hollow shell, never able to explain to her mother exactly what happened. Her mother...her mother would never want to see her again after all the rumors that must be flying around.
A guard walked by, rustling the bars as he passed. He stopped by Ginny's cell and looked inside. Ginny quickly closed her eyes and pretend to be fast aslepp when she knew she would probably never sleep restfully again.
Ginny tears fell rapidly as she thought of her family. Of her brother, lost, somewhere else. Just like she was. She was lost. Lost in this dark cell where she could never escape. She was lost, and no one would be able to find her.