Title: Missing In Action

Author Name: Sarah Jo

Disclaimer: The characters used in this fic belong to JKRowling. I'm just...borrowing them.

Author's Note: I'd just like to say that MTV has to be the most mind-numbing channel ever.

Okay...actually I'd like to say more than that. I haven't been in the writing mood lately. I tried working on this chapter several times but ended up just staring blankly at the computer screen for an hour and trying to figure out what AFI stands for (Does anybody know? That's really been bothering me.). Anyway, I was listening to my Blink182 cd today and after listening to Asthenia I suddenly felt the urge to write again. In a way this song goes well with the chapter so I had to include some of the lyrics.

Last night it came as a picture
With a good reason, a warning sign
This place is void of all passion
If you can imagine it's easy if you try
Believe me I failed this effort
I wrote a reminder this wasn't a vision
This time where are you Houston
Is somebody out there will somebody listen

Should I go back should I go back should I
I feel alone and tired
Should I go back should I go back should I
I hope I won't forget you
-Asthenia, blink182

Chapter Two
Time to Heal

Harry woke with a start. He was immediately alert, ready to take on the Death Eaters and protect her. But there weren't any Death Eaters. The only other living creatures in the deserted alley were Hedwig, who hooted dolefully at him from atop one of the various dumpsters, and perhaps a few rats.

"It was only a dream," he reassured the owl, wincing as he accidentally put all of his weight on his right ankle. He carefully maneuvered himself back into a sitting position, closing his eyes as he rested his head back against a trash bin.

It wasn't an ordinary dream.

He didn't know why he'd been having these dreams all summer. He had never in his life met the girl he'd come to think of as "Red". He had no idea where she was being held. Hell, he didn't even know where he was at the moment. But he was positive that she was as real as Ron or Hermione. And she needed him.

Not that he'd be much help in his current condition. Besides his sprained right ankle, he was sure he had at least two cracked ribs, his back covered with severe cuts (now bleeding freely after being torn open again when he jumped up upon awakening), and most of his body was covered with ugly purple bruises. Nothing he couldn't handle. He considered himself lucky that he didn't have internal bleeding.

But that didn't change the fact that he wasn't making as much progress as he would have liked. He traveled slowly and tired easily. Harry figured he had at least four hours head start. Nobody would have noticed his absence until Mundungus' two hour shift was over and then they would have to organize a search party.

Luckily he had yet to run in to any trouble. So far he hadn't met a single witch or wizard. He dreaded being found by the Order just as much, if not more, than being found by Death Eaters.

What would they think when they saw his bruises? They would pity him, of that much he was sure. Maybe they would be angry. Why hadn't he told anyone?

Because he was ashamed. The-Great-Boy-Who-Lived survived five encounters with Lord Voldemort, but he let himself get beat up by his Muggle relatives. He could have quite easily notified any member of the Order of the Phoenix and they would have put a stop to it. In fact several times he had started to write a letter to Dumbledore only to change his mind half-way through. After all, Dumbledore was a busy man. He could take care of himself just fine without having to unload his problems onto somebody else.

Harry snorted as he eyed a particularly large bruise on his forearm. He couldn't take very good care of himself after all. The truth was, he felt he deserved the rough treatment the Dursley's had inflicted on him. What right did he have to be happy and alive, when he, Harry, had caused his own Godfather's death?

Sirius had died because of his stupid mistake. Surely he could handle whatever his relatives dished out without complaining?

He wasn't sure what had brought about this change in his relationship with the Dursley's. There had always been a mutual hatred, but besides the few punches Dudley had been able to land, they had never physically hurt him before.

Maybe it was because his very being practically screamed "depression" ever since he returned to Privet Drive. Maybe it was because they had found out about his Godfather's death when he cried out in his nightmares. Maybe they simply didn't appreciate being threatened by all of the Order members at King's Cross.

Whatever the reason, Uncle Vernon had been...rough...with him ever since his first day home. (AN: Eww unwanted mental images there.) And Harry had never once complained or fought back. He had the scars on his back to prove it. He dealt with the lack of sleep, the physical and mental abuse, and the malnutrition without complaint.

But that last day, his final day at his relative's house, he had lost it. He was used to being insulted, he was almost used to his parents being insulted, but he could not stand for Sirius to be made fun of. Harry closed his eyes tightly as the memory flashed before his eyes.

He was in trouble. Again. This time for waking Uncle Vernon up with his nightmares. Harry tried not to flinch as his uncle got out "the belt." So it was going to be whipping again. Vernon usually didn't do the same punishment two nights in a row. He said he liked variety.

He heard the rush of air as the belt was brought down on his back. He bit his lip to keep from crying out as the belt buckle sliced into his skin.

"Boy, what have I told you?"

Harry remained silent. It wouldn't matter if he answered or not...in the end.

"Nothing to say, eh? You're not as talkative now that you don't have your murderer Godfather to protect you."

His eyes widened. How had they found out?

"Of course I always knew he'd come to a sticky end, just like your good-for-nothing parents. I suppose he was executed by the police...or whatever it is that your kind have. Or maybe he died like a coward, starved to death while hiding from the authorities. A convicted murderer can't just walk into a restaurant now can they?"

Vernon never saw the punch coming.

"Sirius was no coward," he said calmly, nursing his fist; Uncle Vernon's head was hard

But his uncle recovered quickly, and before Harry could react he was being lifted over his head and hurled at the mantle with a strength he didn't know the overweight man possessed. There was a tinkle of breaking glass as he hit the mantle, crushing many of the trinkets his aunt had decorated it with, and a loud crash as Harry fell to the ground. He winced as he felt pieces of glass cut into his already bleeding back.

The noise brought his aunt running into the room. "Vernon don't!" But she wasn't worried about Harry, she was worried about the mess her husband was creating in her pristine living room.

The young wizard let out a hiss of pain as he tried to scramble to his feet. Something was wrong with his right ankle, he couldn't put any weight on it. His uncle was already bearing down on him again.

"Stupefy!" He said it more on reflex than actually thinking it would work. His wand was upstairs in his school trunk.

Thud!

He watched in disbelief as his uncle slumped down unconscious. 'What the hell?'

But he didn't have the time to ponder why it had worked. He had to leave. Now. There was no way his relatives would let him stay after this, and the Ministry would soon be after him for performing magic outside of school. They wouldn't find him, he would already be long gone.

Besides, he had to rescue her. He was the only one that knew about her. He was the only one that could save her.

After that he had packed a few of his belongings, along with any food that could be brought along, and whatever spare change could be found in a knapsack he took from Dudley's room. And then he left, not once stopping to look back and never regretting his decision.

As far as he knew the Ministry owl was still fluttering around his room on Privet Drive. Hopefully someone from the Order had enough sense to gather up his textbooks and the rest of his belongings, so he could reclaim them later on.

Until then he had to keep going north, towards the light, where she would surely be located. He could only hope he found her before the Death Eaters foundhim.

Her eyes were open, but everything was an inky black. It never occurred to her to be worried that she couldn't see. There was a presence that filled the blackness with warmth and made her feel protected.

"I'm coming for you."

'Who are you?' She had heard that voice before, but she couldn't recall whom it belonged to.

"Wait for me."

The aura was fading, leaving her to feel broken and insecure. She tried holding on to the dream, but the blackness was already beginning to disappear.

The moldy ceiling of her cell slowly came in to focus. Ginny groaned as she clumsily pushed herself up to her hands and knees. She covered her mouth as she was suddenly overcome by a coughing attack. A warm sticky substance was coating her hand when she brought it away. Blood.

The young girl laboriously crawled over to the corner, where she sat huddled, trying to ignore the chill that always permeated the underground maze.

'Back here again,' she thought dully as she shivered. She wondered how long she had been unconscious. There was no way of telling what time of day it was from her prison. She'd long since given up trying to guess how long she had been confined.

But the biggest question, the one that was always lurking in the back of her mind, was why. Why did these men kidnap her of all people? She was a perfectly normal teenager with parents who went to work everyday, friends who liked to gossip, teachers who tried to drown her with homework. Nothing special. Why did they kill her parents? They had never done anything wrong, and she would have come quietly if meant their lives could have been spared. Why didn't they kill her? How could they possibly benefit from keeping her alive? Wouldn't it be much easier to kill her off than wasting the resources needed to keep her alive (albeit barely) and in her cell?

No matter how many times she puzzled over the questions, the answers never came, and if any of the guards knew, they certainly weren't telling her. As a matter of fact they pretty much ignored her except for when she was trying to escape, and she had a nasty feeling that they enjoyed those times because it gave them a short respite from their boredom.

'How many guards do I have anyway?'

There had been seventeen last time. Once she had counted twenty-three. Was she really important enough to merit such tight security? Somebody obviously thought so. If they thought she needed that many guards before, she didn't want to know how closely she would be watched now that she had actually fought back for once.

She would have to break out. Soon. Before they had the opportunity to shorten her leash. If the hallways where overrun with Black Robes she had no chance of escaping. She never had much of a chance before.

Right now she was in no condition to be standing, much less running frantically through the halls. She was pretty much guaranteed to be caught within ten feet of her cell.

'Tomorrow.'

After a good night's rest she would be fully healed. None of her injuries were too bad this time. As long as she avoided the drugged food she would once again be full-strength and ready to risk another attempt at freedom.

With any luck her captors won't have had the time to double security before the next day. With any luck they were still recuperating from the rather eventful previous escape effort. With any luck they had yet to figure out her abnormally fast healing powers. With any luck this would be the last night (if it was even night) she spent in her much-hated cell.

For now all she could do was rest.

As she closed her eyes closed her eyes a memory that she had tried to fend off since she aroused invaded her mind.

She had killed someone.

Who would have guessed that she would one day become a murderer? Certainly not her. No matter how she tried to convince herself that it was self defense and the bastard deserved it, it didn't take away the fact the she had ended a life.

She wondered what her parents would say. If they were still alive that is. But as quickly as that thought came, she banished it. She didn't want to know, couldn't bear their disappointment.

Maybe she didn't deserve to escape after all. She wasn't much better than those who held her prisoner anymore. But she felt she had to escape, even if it wasn't for herself. Somebody needed her, just as much as she needed them.

In the nightmares that took her over as she slowly drifted off, she could only watch helplessly as a black-robed figure fell slowly to the ground again and again as another Ginny laughed mercilessly. And she was helpless to stop herself.

'Tomorrow.'

The youngest Weasley had never seen the members of the Order of the Phoenix this busy. Although it provided for a change from the boring routine of cleaning day-in and day-out, he couldn't help but wish he never had seen them this busy.

It wasn't worth it.

His best friend was missing. That fact alone would cause anyone to be stressed. Dumbledore said Harry had runaway, and each new bit of information proving that theory brought on additional worry.

After the initial chaos had died down, each member of the Order was set to a different task, leaving only a few behind at Grimmauld Place to wait anxiously for the others to return with information.

The twins, showing surprising insight, had taken the initiative to tell Ron what happened. They remembered what it was like the year before when they weren't allowed to attend the meetings, left to scrounge what little information they could from the Extendable Ears.

As expected he didn't take the information well. After going through denial ("Harry's not that thick.") and anger ("What was that git thinking!"), he finally resigned himself to writing a letter to Hermione. Everybody else was too busy to notify her. She deserved to know just as much as he did.

Now that the letter was attached to Pig's leg somewhere in mid-flight on the way to Hermione's house, he finally allowed himself to be overcome with worry.

And worry he did.

When Mundungus finally showed up and told them that Harry was the one who convinced him to finish out his telescope deal. When Kingsley and Moody had returned to report that the Dursley's living room showed signs of a struggle and the Dursley's themselves were nowhere to be found. When they handed Dumbledore what was left of Harry's belongings and added that there had been blood found at Number Four Privet Drive...lots of it. When the confused Improper Use of Magic owl, informing Harry that he was to be expelled for using magic outside of school, had shown up around noon. He worried.

He wanted to help. He'd do anything to assist in the search for his friend, but as his mother repeatedly reminded him and underage wizard would just get in the way.

All he could do was wait for Hermione to arrive, as she undoubtedly would as soon as she got his owl. She would think of something to do. She always did.

To Be Continued...

Author's Note: Poor Harry. I never planned on him being abused, I was just in a bad mood when I wrote his part. I am not happy with the way Harry's argument with Vernon turned out. I myself have never been physically abused by my parents, so I don't feel qualified to write about it. But it is an important aspect of this fanfic so I couldn't leave that part out. (Wow, I almost sounded smart there.)

This chapter took me forever to write. The second chapter is always the hardest. You're just getting started and there's so many different directions you're story could go in. I ended up having to plan ahead. Bleh! I hate planning. But I do have quite a few ideas now and I'm pretty sure I know where I'm going with this fic.

I know I said I wouldn't update until I got ten reviews, but I only wanted to make sure that somebody was actually reading this story so I had a reason to continue writing. Thanks to all that reviewed. Since you took the time to review, and I have no life outside of my room at the moment I suppose I can take the time to respond to everyone

Btw...while trying to get rid of my writer's block I made a website. I spent less than half a day on it so it's not too great, but check it out. You can read my fics there if is down. The link is in my profile.

mellogirl8 - Everything should eventually be explained, but it will most likely get more confusing before then. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as the first.

ZanyMuggle - I remember you I'm glad to hear that somebody didn't give up on me after I was absent for such a long time! I would have thought you could guess how it's AU from the summary, but no worries Everything will come clear sooner or later. I would really like to update In Loving Memory but I kind of hate it now. I reread the first chapter and was embarrassed that I wrote it. But since so many people reviewed I will get around to updating eventually (can't let my reviewers down now can I?). I'll try not to disappear for so long again.

nameless926 - I'm glad you liked the first chapter, that's always the easiest chapter to write. Hopefully this chapter didn't let you down I guess I'll have to be satisfied with staring at my Sirius Black shirt until the movie comes out on dvd. I got it from Hot Topic, it's a guy's shirt but I still luff it

denaumo - Thank you! Hopefully you liked the second chapter as much as the first. It's always the hardest chapter for me to write.

Ookii Mamoru - I find new addictions all the time. First it was Young Wizards, then Pirates of the Caribbean, then Digimon, then Inuyasha. I always end up coming back to Harry Potter though I'll give Sailor Moon a try when I have the time.

padfootandprongs4ever - blush Thank you! I worked on that chapter for days and I still don't think it was all that great (although it was fun to write). It could be because I have almost no self confidence.

Gohan00 - Thanks I try to update often but you never can tell how much time will pass between chapters. Besides my three Harry Potter stories I'm working on several Inuyasha fics.

Hippie-Banana - Sorry! Normally I wouldn't beg for reviews but I had to see if anyone liked the first chapter. There's really no reason to continue writing if nobody was going to read it. Besides I'm likely to update faster if I get a bunch of good reviews (puts me in a good mood and boosts my confidence a bit). I'm really glad you enjoyed the first chapter, hope you keep reading

crestingstar - Intros are my strong point but I'm trying my best to keep the rest of the story up-to-scratch. I've always hated angst. It makes me frustrated, but then again it does keep me reading