With three days until the Quidditch Final against Hufflepuff, Harry noticed Ron's agitation at his sister grow triple-fold as she continued to ignore everyone who came into her presence, including her fellow teammates. The youngest Weasley boy tried multiple times to corner her as she left the pitch after practices, but she always slipped past him. Going mad with the situation, he took out his frustrations on the pitch, flying like a madman. Hermione, who was also having no success with the girl, was just as irritated and perplexed as her boyfriend. She spent much of her free time in the library, looking up spells to block dreams for Ginny, thinking that was the cause of her sudden isolation. Neither she nor Ron had any idea of what was really going on.
Harry also tried to talk to her, but what could he say? Well, Ginny, I've decided I'm going to kill Tom to save you. Are you going to talk to me now?
He didn't have to ask to know her answer. It would always be no.
Seeing his friends in such frustration because of their lack of knowledge sent him into a phase of relentless guilt. He knew all of these things, and yet he didn't tell them. Ron and Hermione were above all the two people who deserved to know everything, including the prophecy. So, after a taut and edgy Quidditch practice, Harry pulled Ron aside as they headed for the castle for curfew.
"Don't disappear with Hermione tonight, all right? I need to talk to you both," he said quietly, watching Ginny stride past out of the corner of his eye. The ring flashed on her finger, catching the last light of the day as the sun sank towards the horizon, red and gold streaking the sky.
Ron reddened slightly, but nodded. "All right, mate. We'll be in the common room. Say," he added as they walked to the castle side by side, "Has Ginny said anything to you lately?"
Harry shook his head, trying to control the sinking feeling in his stomach. "No, she hasn't. Why?"
"I'm getting worried. From what Colin Creevey and Neville have told me, she hasn't talked to them either. I can't understand what's going on," Ron commented darkly, running a hand through his hair.
Harry shrugged and said no more, letting them walk up to the common room in silence. You will understand, Ron. You won't want to in the end, but you will.
Later that night, Harry and Ron dragged Hermione from her books, and went down to the Room of Requirement. Hermione, who was extremely displeased to have been taken from her research, gave Harry an earful as they walked the corridors.
"Nice to see you taking an interest in Ron and me, Harry! Why the sudden need to talk to us? You were doing just fine with the common courtesies," she snapped as they entered the Room of Requirement.
Rolling his eyes, Ron led her to the sofa as Harry cast a quick Silencing Charm over the room and turned back to them. "I'm sorry for being a bit of a prat, but I had good reason," he said, sitting across from his friends and running a hand through his hair.
Hermione pursed her lips. "You always have a good reason, don't you?"
"Hermione, this is important," Ron interjected before she could say another word. "Let Harry talk."
Harry shot his friend a small grin before becoming completely serious. Nerves thrumming, he took a deep breath, praying his friends would take his news calmly. "You want to know why Ginny's been ignoring everyone, especially us?"
Both nodded, going pale as he mentioned Ginny's name. Harry sighed. "She's still under the influence of Voldemort," he said softly, apprehension filling him as Ron's jaw dropped, freckles bright against his pale skin.
Hermione gasped. "What?"
"A part of Tom Riddle is still inside her soul, and Voldemort is trying to use her to gain an advantage over the Order and me. He can feel what she feels, see what he sees, know what she knows," Harry continued, hate building up in his veins.
Ron was completely silent as Hermione opened and closed her mouth several times. "How do you know this?" she asked faintly.
Hesitating, Harry looked at Ron. "Because she and I were together. I mean, together," he said, watching Ron's mouth drop open in complete shock.
"She was your girlfriend?" Ron sputtered, earning a glare from Hermione.
"That's hardly important right now, Ron," she hissed before turning back to Harry. "Isn't there anything Dumbledore can do? Would Occlumency work for her?" she asked, panic starting to creep into her voice.
Shaking his head, Harry tried not to feel nervous at the look Ron was giving him. "Occlumency only works for an intrusion into the mind. It can't help with an intrusion into the soul," he said morosely.
Finally, Ron spoke. "How long were you and Ginny dating?"
"Since August," Harry replied promptly. Not like I'm counting or anything.
Looking flustered, Ron gaped for a moment. "Why didn't you tell us?"
"I thought I was protecting her by keeping it a secret, or else I would have told you, really. But it doesn't matter now; she broke up with me," Harry said, a note of bitterness in his tone.
"What?" Hermione shrieked, causing both boys to wince. "She broke up with you?"
"It happens, Hermione," Harry said coolly as Ron's jaw seemed to become permanently stuck to the floor.
Hermione bristled visibly. "I know that. It just didn't seem sensible, that's all. Ginny loves you; why would she hurt you?" she asked simply.
At this, both Harry and Ron turned shocked gazes to her.
"She loves me?" Harry said, bewildered.
"She loves him?" Ron exclaimed.
Rolling her eyes, Hermione nodded exasperatedly. "Of course she does! Didn't she ever tell you? And why do you care?" she asked Ron abruptly, facing him completely.
Harry didn't hear Ron's flabbergasted reply; his own turbulent thoughts drowned everything else out. She loved him? Was that possible?
Why?
Why would anyone love him like that?
The idea of love was still fairly new to him; he himself was still grappling with the idea that he was in love with her. But he couldn't understand why someone would want to love him. What had he done to deserve anyone's love?
"And anyway, Ron, the state of Harry and Ginny's relationship isn't quite as important as the fact that she still had Voldemort inside her!" he heard Hermione say hotly when he came back into the conversation. Ron flinched again at the sound of the Dark Lord's name.
Silently, Harry watched as Hermione looked at him carefully. "What can help her if Occlumency won't?"
Now was the time to tell them. They had to know sooner or later, and it should be sooner. Harry took a deep breath. "He has to be killed. And I have to kill him," he said as he exhaled slowly.
His friends looked at him as if he was insane, confusion flooding their features. He sighed. "At the Department of Mysteries, Neville broke the prophecy without anyone reading it. But that was only a record of the words. Someone said it, and someone else had to hear it," he said.
Hermione shook her head. "I don't recall any True Seers coming forth, Harry. What are you talking about?"
"Trelawney," Ron said quietly, looking at Harry with surprising calmness.
Harry stared at Ron. "You remember?"
Starting to look irritated, Hermione pursed her lips. "Remember what?" she asked sharply.
Ron ignored her, nodding at Harry. "Of course. You told me about it the night after you and Hermione saved Sirius from the Dementors," he replied.
"Would one of you blockheads please tell me what you are bloody talking about?" Hermione yelled before Harry could reply, red in the face with frustration.
Harry and Ron shared a tiny grin before turning back to the girl. "Trelawney made a prediction during my third-year exam about how Voldemort's servant would return. Well, I think we all remember the Shrieking Shack," Harry said wryly.
Hermione's eyes bugged out of their sockets. "She made a correct prediction?"
Harry smiled slightly at Hermione's shock. "Two."
"So Dumbledore must be the one who heard it," Ron added.
Sitting back against the sofa, Hermione waved at Harry. "Go on, then. Tell us what the prophecy said," she said faintly, looking a bit shell-shocked.
Gulping, Harry mustered up his courage. This was going to be the hard part. "Well, it said that someone who was born at the end of July was going to have the power to defeat Voldemort, and would be marked as his equal."
"Your scar," Hermione breathed, eyes going to Harry's forehead.
Ron glanced from Harry's eyes to his scar and back. "So that's why you can speak Parseltongue."
Nodding, Harry continued. "It also said the child would be born to those who had defied Voldemort three times before. And," he hesitated. "And, the child would either have to kill Voldemort, or be killed," he added quietly, watching as Hermione's face went pale.
Neither can live while the other survives.
"Merlin, Harry. You have to kill him?" Ron asked thinly.
Hermione sniffed; her eyes looked suspiciously bright. "Why didn't you tell us?"
Harry had to look away from the stricken eyes of his friends. "I suppose I didn't want to burden you," he muttered, feeling ashamed of himself. "I'm sorry for it. I knew you'd want to know."
The three friends were silent as the words hung in the air.
Neither can live while the other survives.
Harry, who was staring determinedly at his feet, felt a small hand rest on his arm after a time.
"Whatever happens, Harry, we'll be with you. As long as you let us, we'll help you," Hermione said softly.
"You know it, mate," Ron added.
Harry looked up and saw them both smiling in reassurance at him, even though their faces were whiter than sheets. Courage soaring, he returned their smiles slightly. "Thanks. I appreciate it," he said quietly. They were true friends, true family to him; he wouldn't take them for granted any longer.
A thought occurred to him, and he let out a chuckle, startling his friends. "I was just thinking," he began, "about who else could have been the one the prophecy meant."
Hermione looked at him quizzically. "Who?"
"Neville."
Ron let out a high-pitched noise that sounded oddly like a laugh and Hermione's jaw dropped. "You're joking!" she exclaimed.
Shaking his head, Harry shrugged. "No, I'm not. He was born at the same time, his parents were like mine. But Voldemort picked the half-blooded child, the one like himself," he replied.
"That's interesting," Hermione said thoughtfully, a pensive look coming into her eyes.
Ron shook his head disbelievingly. "That's weird, mate. So, how are you planning on killing You-Know-Who?"
Hermione rolled her eyes and smacked Ron lightly. "Say his name, Ron. It's about time."
Harry sighed. "Dumbledore and I are searching for spells, and I'm learning wandless magic, since my wand and Voldemort's are brothers. It's coming along slowly," he said, standing.
Getting up with him, Ron and Hermione followed him to the door. "But what about Ginny?" Ron asked as they left the Room of Requirement. "There must be something she can do until you kill him."
"I've been looking. Leave it to me; I'll talk to her," Harry said as they walked down the corridor.
Hermione snorted as they turned a corner. "Talk? Is that what they call it these days?" she said with a suggestive eyebrow raise.
Ron let out a strangled laugh as Harry turned scandalized eyes onto Hermione. "Oh, and I'm sure you and Ron study all the time, right?"
"Leave me out of this, mate!" Ron exclaimed.
Hermione just smiled, put her arm through Harry's and slipped her hand into Ron's. The trio walked down the hall together, Harry and Ron baiting each other the whole way back to the common room.
~*~
As she slipped on her Quidditch robes before the game on Saturday, Ginny decided that she was sick as hell of being noble.
Alone in the changing room, she assumed the rest of the team was still eating breakfast in the Great Hall surrounded by their supporters. Because of her self-imposed isolation, she had swallowed her toast quickly and escaped to the pitch, intent on being prepared before anyone else. Being in the changing room alone reminded her of the incident with Harry in September, which reminded her of his fevered kiss, which made her want to curse and kill herself to stop her near-constant thoughts of him.
It was then she decided that nobility was completely overrated and only caused problems. If anyone else could hear her thoughts, they'd say she wasn't a true Gryffindor. Well, they could attempt to isolate themselves from the world they knew because of an infestation of their soul, and then they could tell her that nobility was a beautiful trait!
Sighing, Ginny sat down on a bench and began to re-do her ponytail. Somehow she knew that if it was any other time in her life, she wouldn't think nobility was such a bad thing. But right now, she only wanted to throw caution to the wind, find Harry, and kiss him senseless. Ever since their last confrontation almost two weeks ago, she had been struggling to keep her desire under control, much to the amusement of Tom, whenever he was around. Coupled with the constant torture he was giving her because of her isolation, her days and nights were spent in a state of turmoil.
She knew it would take all of her self control not to tackle Harry in mid-air today during the game, and it would be hard to control her urge to hug him if they won the Cup. In fact, she actually wondered how she would pull it off; all the pent-up desire and need was making her one frustrated girl. A girl could only control herself for so long. How was she supposed to refuse the one she loved?
The only joy she was deriving from her life was the fact that Tom wasn't getting any information from her anymore. She had been going through the last month in a complete daze, not reading any letters from her mother, reading any paper or magazine, or talking to any teachers, especially Lupin and Dumbledore. But it was an empty victory; in her heart she knew she would rather be with Harry.
Merlin, she had never wanted someone more. Where was her happy ending? Did she have one?
"You're wearing the ring."
Oh bloody hell.
She didn't look up. "I didn't hear anyone come in," she said stoically, trying to keep her blood pressure from rising.
"I can be very quiet when I need to be," came Harry's throaty reply as his steps came closer to her sitting form.
Breathing speeding up, Ginny scooted away from him, shoving an eager Tom from the front of her mind. "Please leave, Harry. I've made my choice."
He sat next to her. "What if it wasn't the right one?" he asked quietly.
She still didn't look at him; she had no idea how she would control herself if she did. "Does it matter? I made it; there's no going back," she said with a slight edge of bitterness. Strangely, Tom was nowhere to be found. She wondered what was going on inside her mind.
Harry cleared his throat. "Why are you wearing the ring if you've made your choice?"
The words left her mouth before she could think about it. "Because I have hope."
His hand reached over to cup her cheek, bringing her gaze to his. His eyes burned into hers, making her insides melt. "You are my hope, Ginny. If I can't have you, I can't have hope," he whispered.
Her heart sped up, the blood boiling in her veins. What girl didn't want to hear someone say those words to her? And it was Harry, wonderful brave Harry who didn't care that she was a danger to him, didn't care that she wasn't beautiful like Cho Chang or Parvati Patil, and didn't care about the voices inside her head. All he cared about was her soul, her own self. She wanted to give in to her heart, wanted to feel his mouth on hers once more. Even if it was for the last time.
"I know what love means, Ginny."
His words took her by surprise. He smiled at the shock in her eyes and continued. "Love means you're willing to die for someone. Well, I think I love you, Ginny."
The floor seemed to drop from below her feet, and she almost fainted in his arms. The world was ending around her; he loved her. Merlin, he loved her!
And she couldn't do a thing about it.
Despair of the worst kind overwhelmed her, and she pulled away from his grasp, turning her back to his face. Looking at him was becoming unbearable.
"Let it go, Ginny. I don't care who you have in your head, I just want you."
If there was a god, it was most definitely a man. A woman would never let a fellow female be tortured in this wretched way. She was tearing, splitting apart at the seams. Her need for him was beginning to overwhelm everything else she knew or felt.
Dimly, she heard him stand and come around to the side her face was pointed, sitting down once more and keeping her gaze. In his vibrant eyes, in the green she loved so much, was dark want and simmering love, echoed in every pore of his skin, every movement of his limbs. "Why are you letting him win, Ginny? He'll triumph over your will like he did in your first year; do you want him to?" he asked softly, taking one of her hands between his.
Her resistance was crumbling, and she didn't care. It was always the same; she could never resist him, no matter how long she held out or how hard she tried. In one quick action, she flung her arms around his neck and crushed her mouth against his, knocking him onto his back with the abruptness of the motion. He opened up to her immediately, and it was like a long-missing piece of her soul had come back into place.
It was a sweet surrender of her mind, leaving everything else behind to immerse herself fully in him. His mouth was hot on hers, moving with her in the most blissfully familiar way and causing her to moan softly in the back of her throat. Hands clutching at the nape of his neck, the need for air left her completely as she felt his fingers slip beneath her robes and clothes to skin, sinking into her flesh, marking her as his. She didn't care about anything but him and the way he made her feel.
In the wake of this, as his mouth left hers to make a trail down her neck, her mind was silent, making her wonder. Why wasn't Tom taunting her, gloating over her? It was almost like Harry's presence inside her was overwhelming him, making him lose his grasp upon her. She knew he was still there, but having Harry merge with her and become a part of her seemed to neutralize him.
Then his lips left her skin completely, and she was sprawled across his form, meeting his glazed eyes. Her heart beat wonderfully against her ribs at the sight of his mussed hair and askew glasses, bringing her pleasure to see it once more. It had been too long to go without him.
He gave her a crooked smile. "Are you all right?" he asked, voice dark and husky.
How infuriatingly sweet. Potter can block me when you're together. I shall have to take care of that.
Creating a torrent of pain in her head, Tom smashed back into her mind with those fearsome words. Ginny moaned, sliding off Harry to the floor and holding her head in her hands. She was doomed, and Harry was too. Soon Harry's hands were on her shoulders, rubbing gently. "Is he still there?" he asked.
She nodded, not meeting his eyes. "You should go, Harry. This isn't right," she whispered, skin calling out for his touch against her will. Tom gloated.
He is your weakness, and you are his. I shall keep that in mind for today...
Lips pressed to her forehead softly, soothing her tortured mind and blinding her to Tom's words. "Yes, it is right. Don't worry Ginny; I'll fix this soon," Harry said, kissing her cheek before standing and leaving the changing room.
Ginny raised her head, touching her bruised lips lightly.
Yes, today will be fun for you, Virginia.
Merlin, what did he mean by that?
~*~
Well, that was unexpected.
Harry listened to Ron's usual pep talk without hearing a word, eyes drifting towards the petite girl standing on the other side of the small room. He could distantly hear the crowds buzzing louder than ever, but it had no effect on him. A smile curved his mouth, a smile no one had ever seen before.
Ginny had kissed him.
Ginny was still herself.
There was hope after all.
In all truth, he had had no idea she was going to react like that to him. He had just thought he would go in, talk to her, and let her mull on his words. It turned out better than he thought. Now, only if she would look at him...
Heart light, he followed the team out as they flew onto the pitch amid cries of support and excitement. The sun was shining; the wind was light; the air was warm. It was the perfect weather for Quidditch. And even though he was engulfed in a war, he felt nothing could go wrong today.
Once he got into the air and the game began, all other thoughts left his mind except for the Snitch. The Hufflepuff Seeker, a young third-year, was surprisingly swift for his size, but his flying was nothing on Harry's. Harry soon figured out that this boy could be fooled, and used it to full advantage. After pulling a few feints, he could see his opponent getting tired. He grinned to himself; it was only a matter of time.
The game continued; he spotted the Snitch a few times, but didn't pursue it. The Hufflepuff decided to leave him and search on his own, leaving Harry quite out in the open. It was clear that the Hufflepuff Chasers were the reason Hufflepuff had won their games; they had already scored five times on Ron, much to Ron's visible chagrin. But Katie, Dean, and Ginny were doing their jobs remarkably well; after a half-hour of play, the score was 100 to 60.
A shiver passed through Harry, startling him. The wind hadn't picked up, and the sun was shining just as brightly; why had he had a chill?
It was in that moment that he saw a flash of gold dancing by Ginny's hair. Immediately, he sped towards her, garnering the attention of the other Seeker and the crowd. The other tried vainly to catch up, but Harry was too fast. At the last possible second before collision, Ginny ducked and shot towards the goal as Harry closed his fingers around the Snitch.
"AND POTTER CATCHES THE SNITCH AS WEASLEY SCORES! THE GAME GOES TO GRYFFINDOR!"
Dennis' ecstatic voice rang through the crazy crowds as Harry lifted the Snitch in the air, a wide grin on his face. Katie grabbed him, sobbing into Dean's shoulder as Dean hugged her. Kirke and Sloper smashed into the group, and Harry clasped Ron as he flew over, tears pouring down his cheeks.
"Yeah, Harry! We did it!" Ron cried as he clapped his Beaters on the back.
The group floated to Earth amid the screams and cheers of the crowd. Harry searched for Ginny, pushing away from the crowds as Ron lifted the Cup in his shaking hands and was tackled by a bright-eyed Hermione. Holding the Snitch tightly in his hand, Harry finally got out of the crowds, another shiver running down his spine. He saw Ginny standing a little ways from him, face turned towards the Forbidden Forest. Starting towards her, he looked in the direction she was staring.
And stopped dead in his tracks.
Were... Were those Dementors coming out of the forest?
"Everyone get back!" Dumbledore's magically magnified voice exclaimed as a different sort of scream erupted from the crowds. There was a massive stampede towards the stands as the Dementors began to slip out of the shadowy trees one by one.
Pulling out his wand and releasing the Snitch, Harry ran towards Ginny, who was frozen to her spot. "Ginny, move!" he yelled as a Dementor advanced on her, bony hands curling and grasping. "Expecto Patronum!"
Bursting from his outstretched wand, the ghostly stag cantered past Ginny to drive the Dementor back as Harry grabbed Ginny's wrist and pulled her up the slope of the lawn. She was shivering under his touch. "Ginny, think of something happy! You remember our Patronus lessons from last year, don't you?" he asked desperately as other Patronuses flew past, some more solid than others. He could see Hermione's otter from out of the corner of his eye.
"It was a lot easier last year," she said faintly as Dumbledore reached the pair of them.
"Harry, get Ginny inside," Dumbledore said quickly as Fawkes swooped down and landed on Ginny's shoulder, singing quietly. "It is not a good idea for her to be out here; it is very likely she is why this attack is occurring."
Ginny whimpered. Harry slipped an arm around her waist to support her and nodded at Dumbledore. With a wave of the headmaster's hand, Harry was running towards the castle, pulling Ginny along with him. His blood pounded in his veins, thundering in his ears; he had to get Ginny into the castle, he just had to...
"Don't take another step, Potter."
Looking up towards the castle doors, Harry's blood froze as he saw a group of Death Eaters waiting for him, Lucius Malfoy right in front. A delighted sneer crossed his pale face. "I'm thrilled; now we don't have to go through a lot of nonsense to get the Weasley brat," he said crisply, walking towards Harry and Ginny.
Tightening his grip, Harry pulled Ginny back a few steps. "Don't even think about it, you bastard," he snarled as he felt Ginny reach for her wand.
A high-pitched laugh attacked his ears, and he saw Bellatrix Lestrange follow Malfor down. "I see the famous Potter nobility complex is kicking in yet again! Maybe this time, Potter, you won't get someone else killed," she said mockingly.
Hate engulfed him as Sirius' pale face flew to the front of his mind. Releasing Ginny, he made to go attack Bellatrix, a feral smile on his lips. God, he wanted to kill, feel the blood drain from her veins—--
An arm slung itself around his neck. "Don't you dare leave me, Harry Potter," Ginny whispered harshly as she pulled him back.
With an amused smile, Lucius stepped closer. "I don't know what you see in him, my dear; my son is much more worthwhile, believe me."
Ginny spat at his feet. "I'd kill myself before I'd ever touch your son," she snapped, wand out.
Her fiery words brought Harry back from his rage, his blood-lust, and he redirected his wand towards Malfoy. "If you touch her, I will kill you," he said, strength radiating from him like a beacon.
"I'll prepare my coffin, then, shall I?" Lucius said dryly, looking behind
Harry's shoulder. "Ah. Just in time, Draco."
Harry whipped around as he heard Draco's loud Stunning Spell. Pain shot through him as Ginny screamed his name and he fell to the ground, descending into darkness.
~*~
"Hello, Virginia."
Weakly, she lifted her head, opening her eyes at the sound of her name. It was dark and damp, wherever she was, deepening the ache that pervaded her whole body. Memories from her first year overwhelmed her, and she found herself chained to a cold stone floor. Fear flooded her veins; he had her again.
"I'm so happy to see you in my present form."
Looking up, she met a pair of slanted red eyes set in an impossibly pale face. Fright laced her every breath, and she struggled not to scream.
Tom.
He gazed down upon her impassively, a cruel smile on his face. "Aren't you pleased to be with me once again? I know you missed me."
Gathering any strength she had, she spat at his feet. "Don't fool yourself, Tom," she drawled out his former name like a curse. She'd be damned if he was going to get her again.
Voldemort's eyes narrowed. Lifting his wand, he levitated her in the air, making her chains magically fade. "That isn't my name anymore. If you will address me, it will be Lord Voldemort," he sneered.
She raised an eyebrow, quaking inside. "My mistake, Tom. I shall try not to forget."
With a snarl of anger, he sent her crashing against the wall. As her arm bent beneath her back and cracked audibly, she bit her lip until it bled. She wouldn't let him hear her scream because of him.
Another wave of his wand, and her wrists and ankles were chained once more. Glancing at her arm, she thought she saw a sliver of bone piercing her skin, and her stomach heaved. Voldemort advanced upon her; she could see a couple of Death Eaters filtering in behind him, including both Malfoys, who had identical smirks upon their faces. She wanted to toss every curse in the book at all of them.
"You have become a very stubborn girl, Virginia. Why did you not stay the way you were? I liked you when you were docile," Voldemort said as a thin finger reached out to skim her cheek. She shuddered uncontrollably. A triumphant smile crossed his face. "Why don't you let me take care of you again?"
"Why don't you let me leave?" she shot back, pulling her face from his touch.
The smile grew forced. "Don't talk back to me. You know, I'm not very pleased with you right now."
She smirked with more bravery than she felt. "Forgive me if I don't mind."
Abruptly, he slapped her, his long nails cutting deeply down her cheek. It smarted and stung, but she bit her bleeding lip and said nothing. "I am inside you for a reason, you stupid girl! You are meant to be mine, and mine alone! I am the only one who can possess you," he growled, raising his wand to her heart. "It doesn't matter how much Harry Potter loves you, he will never be able to save you!"
"We'll see, won't we? He's defeated you before, he'll do it again! I'll die before you'll use me against anyone!" she exclaimed.
Voldemort slapped her again, deepening the cuts on her already bleeding skin. "I'll do what I want, and not even Dumbledore will stop me! You have no power over yourself or me, Virginia. You're my puppet to do with as I will." Smiling maliciously, he stepped to the side. "And now I want to see my puppet dance. Draco!"
A gleeful Malfoy stepped forward, wand in hand. Ginny held her breath, pain lacing her arm and shoulder. Voldemort nodded towards her. "Entertain me, Draco."
Draco smiled. "As you wish."
He stepped right up to Ginny, put his mouth near her ear. "You should have complied with me earlier, bitch. Now the real fun begins," he murmured, lips grazing her earlobe. She flinched in revulsion. Smiling in extreme pleasure, he put his wand to her heart. "Scream for me, Weasley.
"Crucio!"
~*~
"Ennervate."
Harry shot up, breathing heavily. Above him, set on a crystal blue sky, were Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, Lupin, McGonagall, and Snape. Lupin and Ron held out their hands, which Harry took, and helped him up. "What happened?" he asked quickly, rubbing his pounding scar.
Dumbledore sighed. "Death Eaters came in through the Honeydukes passage as the Dementors attacked. They took Miss Weasley."
The bottom dropped from his stomach as he stared at the headmaster. "What? No one stopped them?" he asked thinly.
"We were otherwise detained," Snape said curtly. "There were twenty Dementors to take care of."
"Who Stunned you, Harry?" Lupin asked quickly before Harry could snap an answer back to the Potions Master.
"Draco Malfoy, youngest Death Eater of his time," Harry said bitterly, and continued. "What are we going---"
Exploding pain ripped through his forehead, sending him on the verge of collapse. His hands went to his scar as Ron and Hermione held him up. Intensifying with each passing second, he could hear screams, very familiar screams; Ginny's screams...
"What is it, Harry?" Dumbledore said urgently.
His heart ripped to shreds as the screams continued and the pain threatened to overwhelm him. "They're hurting her. Oh god, they're hurting her," he muttered, anger and hate vying for first place in his mind.
Dumbledore's mouth thinned. "We must get her back quickly. Severus, do you know where Voldemort is?"
At Snape's nod, Harry lashed out. "Did you know about this?" he exclaimed, struggling against Ron and Hermione as they held him back.
Snape drew himself up stiffly. "If I did, Potter, I would have said something. I am not Voldemort's personal confidant," he said coldly.
Lupin intervened between them once more, face pale and haggard. "We have to get her back. Let's get a move on, Albus."
"Wait a minute! We're going too!" Ron exclaimed. "That's my sister!"
Harry grimaced against the blinding pain in his scar and stared at Dumbledore. "I have to go. We all have to go," he said firmly.
Dumbledore looked the three of them over, then nodded. The three other professors burst into protest, but he silenced them with a hand. "They have the right, and it's not like they haven't seen battle before. They will go with us," he stated, turning back towards the castle.
Everyone followed him, Harry bringing up the rear. His scar pounded with every movement, the screams echoing inside his mind. He would not let Ginny die, no matter what. Hell was waiting for Voldemort and all his Death Eaters if she was dead, and this time not even Dumbledore would be able to stop him.
~*~
A/N: *ducks* Please don't hurt me! I never promised happiness! Please read and review. Many thanks and kudos to Anne, the Queen of Twisted Evilness. ^^
