Of Beer, Leather Pants, and Lightning

"I love getting home at 5 in the morning, don't you?" I said as I opened the door to enter the lowly flat we call our place of residence.

"Beer?" Hunter looked over at me with a little grin.

"For breakfast?" I asked; He nodded. "Sounds fabulous."

"So do you really think that she…?"

"Hunter, for fucks sake just get over it…she's in custody now; there's nothing more we can do." I sighed and slid a bottle of beer to him across the counter. We were in our kitchen. Since headquarters is in the big apple, the four of us (Hunter, David, Will and myself) decided to pitch and get a studio apartment. These boys are like family to me…actually, the only family I have left.

"I know Gab, but I think she was under some sort of spell. One we haven't stumbled upon before."

"Why do you think that?" he looked over at me with his bright green eyes full of hope and foolish naivety.

"Because it's Ginny…she wouldn't do something like that! I know she was framed."

"She's in solitary confinement in Halloway." I took a swig of my beer and looked darkly over at Hunter. "And I have bigger fish to fry than Ginny fucking Weasley."

"Oh yea!?" Will Stood at the doorway; dishevelled, his eyes crimson.

"Bad night Ripple?" Hunter said, glancing my way.

"She didn't do it, she didn't, she didn't, she didn't, SHE FUCKING DIDN'T!!!" I tried to block Will's repetitious rant out but it didn't work. So I stared at the bottle of Corona condensating on the counter.

"Did you go see her?" Hunter asked quietly and Will stopped and stared. I could feel his gaze on the back of my neck, but my eyes didn't stray from my bottle.

"Yes." Will whispered; his voice strained. "I can't fucking believe you Gabbi…that is MY SISTER! She was your best friend! How could you do that!?"

"Will…I didn't do anything wrong."

"You accused her of being a lowly death eater, one of Voldemort's bitches!"

"That," I glared into his eyes "is my job." He shook his head and looked at the ceiling. For a second, I thought he might hit me. I'm pretty sure he thought about it. Oh well, I can take him any day. "Its your job too, not that you'd ever do it. I understand she's your sister Will, but you left that life behind a long time ago." Will looked down at me, his eyes a bit teary.

"If you'd only go see her Gab, you'd know it's not her. Once she was taken in, she totally changed, ask Matthews and Ripple! They brought her in. She was under some form of Imperious I know she was." I looked into his sea-blue eyes and sighed.

"Okay, we can go see her."

An hour later I found myself tapping twice on a manhole in the alley behind our magically hidden office. The three of us lowered ourselves into the tunnel below, which was a narrow badly lit hallway. The linoleum floor was the same monogamous beige as the dirty walls. The clicking of my boots echoed as we walked down the long passageway. Distant screams and cries got louder as we slowly came closer and closer to Halloway, the only wizarding prison in New York State. We all put our wands in the identification screening pad and the heavy titanium door opened.

"Did you know titanium is one of the only metals that can resist magic?" Hunter said quietly as we walked into the reception area.

"Shut it Peterson." Will said loudly, he was not in a mood for Hunter's random little facts. I walked up to the desk, to the burly man sitting there, Terry Boot. I went to school with him also. How he got the crap job of being a receptionist at an underground prison was beyond me.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Gabbi Holmes. How nice of you to drop by."

"That's AUROR Holmes to you Boot."

"Growl, I like my women fierce." Peterson and Ripple stepped up on either side of me.

"Watch it Terry." Said Peterson gruffly.

"Yea Boot, you wouldn't want to end up in St. Jays Hospital, now would you?" Ripple added.

"Fine. Weasely's in cell 492." He said, looking down at his papers. We turned to our left and started walking away, when he called out behind us. "NICE PANTS HOLMES." I grimaced to myself, but kept walking.

Cell 492 was down two floors and a few hallways away, one of the more secluded and more guarded areas of the prison. We walked slower the closer we came, but inevitably we ended up at cell 490, then 491 and finally 492.

I unlocked the door and walked in. The boys stayed outside watching through the one-sided glass. Wizarding prisons are in fact quite a bit like muggle prisons, only with wards that prevent magic and such…and generally more dangerous criminals.

As I walked through the door, the ragged figure on the other side of the room back up into the wall. Her red hair was tangled and looked like it needed a wash. Infact, she looked like she needed a shower pretty badly. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

"Hello Ginny." Her scared blue eyes looked over at me.

"Hermione?" She asked, recognizing me easily.

"No Ginny, its Gabbi…Gabbi Holmes." Her eyes widened and she understood.

"Right, how could I have forgotten?"

"So Ginny how's Tom?" She sat down on the bed. Her Prison attire crumpled. She looked like she needed sleep as well.

"If you mean Voldemort, I have no idea."

"Come on Ginny, you were seen with him…he called you 'Lady Ivy'"

"Look, I don't know where you get off accusing me of this but you know just as well as I do that I am a member of the Order. I was in the DA, just like you, and perhaps I didn't become an auror…but that doesn't make me a Death Eater. Give me Veritaserum if you want. I only got to New York TWO days ago. Mme Malian wanted me to look at the new Runway Robes. I leave in four months." I looked at her, slightly stunned…and then it hit me. Ginny had been in New York for two months, not two days.

"Ginny…what day is it? If you got here two days ago, what would that make today's date?" She rolled her eyes at me, as if to say, 'Well you're getting dumb now, aren't you?'

"Its February 18th for your information." I looked at her and smiled.

"No Gin, its April 16th. I think maybe we should bring in some of that Veritaserum." She looked at me slightly confused.

"Its…APRIL?"

"Yes, it certainly is."

"Where have I been for two months?"

"You remember your first year?" She nodded. "Lightning may never strike the same place twice…but Tom Riddle does."

A/N - whatever you recognize probably belongs to JK Rowling…I own the stuff you don't know…Ciao.

KaCcEe