Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: This is a one-shot and at the precise moment I have no plans to extend it into a story. There is potential to do so, it just depends whether people would like me to continue or not. If so this would probably be the prologue. Anyway, enjoy!
Betrayed
His hands, rough, red and blistered from the constant barrage of obstacles throbbed painfully as he tried in desperation to find his wand on the dirt floor. He grazed his hands on bits of rubble and glass shards in his futile attempt to get the one thing that could save him. His sight was obscured by the sheer amount of dust coming from a nearby collapsed building. Screams were pounding at his ears, each as shrill and poignant as the last. He coughed as the dirt particles mercilessly attacked his throat, his breathing coming in ragged gasps. Tearing his robe in a desperate attempt to help himself breathe, he covered his mouth with the frayed piece of material. Fortunately, his glasses protected his eyes and for once he was glad. He scanned the surrounding area in which he had fallen, looking desperately for any sign of a wand.
Eventually as the smog of dust cleared, he saw it, lying a mater of meters away from where he was. He half crawled, half leapt towards it, and as his hand enclosed around the comforting baton, he heard a scream. It was a scream set apart from the rest by the simple fact that he knew that scream. And he knew the person whom to which it belonged. Picking himself up off the floor and ignoring the taste of blood in his mouth he began to run in the direction from where he had heard it. His feet twisted and bent as he raced over the rubble that was uncomfortably digging through his trainers. Hexes, jinxes and curses were flying thick through the air, people duelling ferociously with their opponents, bent on winning even if they were killed in the process. Bodies of those who had fallen at the last hurdle littered the floor, their faces blank with expression, eyes glassy capturing the last image they'd ever see.
Harry's head was buzzing, thoughts racing across it as his eyes ran over the many smaller battles taking place. Then he saw her. A willowy figure in the half-light, inheriting her father's height, but with all the fullness of a young woman. Her blazing hair was like a haze of smoke around her face, making her eyes stand out against her pale skin. Another figure, taller still, but with a distinctive masculinity visible even through the black cloak that shrouded his face, was standing a few feet away, a wand in hand.
Harry drew closer and saw Ginny shake her head in an act of defiance. A hint of pride rushed through him and he was glad that Ginny had accompanied him to the Department of Mysteries all those years ago, if it weren't for that he doubted Ginny would be much prepared for the things that had been thrown at them since.
The cloaked figure pointed his wand at her threateningly and Harry, sensing that it was now or never in the case of taking action, took aim with his own wand. "Petrificus Totalus!" he bellowed, realising how dry his mouth was. The shrouded figure stopped rigid and then as if some one was pulling a string, he toppled like a statue to the floor where he lay motionless.
Ginny turned her head in his direction and Harry, much later on, would realise what the look on her face really was, instead of dismissing it in his rush of concern.
"Ginny, are you okay? I heard you scream…" he trailed off, breathing heavily from his run. His eyes, startling green, flicked over her, scrutinising everything, from the rip in her robes, to the dirt underneath her fingernails. She was pale; her freckles standing out more then usual and her lips a dark pink.
He looked around them with a weary eye, before returning his gaze on her. "Ginny, please don't be stubborn with me. I know you like to show your independence, but now is really not the time," he said imploringly, boring into her brown eyes. Quite unexpectedly, Ginny fell into his arms, wrapping her own round his torso and burying her head into his robes, shaking her head.
"Harry-oh Harry," she said, drawing great shuddering gasps of breath. As he looked down at the sobbing figure in his arms he could see the streams of tears trekking down her face, dripping off her chin and onto the bone dry earth. "I-I d-didn't mean for it to happen- I- it wasn't my fault- I tried to tell you before- I did…" she sobbed incoherently.
"What? Ginny what are you on about?" he said blankly, not understanding the cause of her to break down. The only time she had done the same was when they had been down in the Chamber of Secrets, since then Ginny had proven she wasn't a weak, helpless, little girl anymore.
"Well, well, well, Potter," came a slow drawling voice from behind him. He released Ginny and turned round wand ready. His eyes landed on the rather smug figure of Draco Malfoy, his composure as cool and collected as ever. His robes had remained spotless, his skin as unmarked and unblemished. It looked like he belonged at some kind of formal dinner party, rather then in the middle of a war raging around them. He smoothed out a crease in his robes, the material rippling under his fingers before looking up, his mouth twisted into a sardonic smile. "How I wished I'd be the Death Eater who captured you first, though it looks like I lost out."
Harry feeling in no mood for Malfoy's pitiful games said, "What are you going on about Malfoy? Does it look like a Death Eater has caught me?" To this Malfoy snorted with laughter, as if he knew something that he didn't.
"It doesn't look like it, no. Looks can be deceiving though, I'd of thought even you knew that Potter. You see your girlfriend there isn't quite as innocent as she looks, are you Ginny?"
Harry felt a niggling feeling in the back of his head as he processed what Malfoy seemed to be implying. It didn't take him long to get exactly what Malfoy was trying to say. He just stared for a while, trying to come up with something that might explain why Malfoy would say such a thing, unless it was true. He turned to Ginny, who was shaking her head, dry sobs racking through her.
"Ginny?" he said gratingly, staring her at disbelief. Under his gaze she looked up and then down again, staring at the floor. His eyes widened, his mouth parting slightly. "It- it isn't true, is it?" he said, his heart racing.
"Of course it's true Potter. You think I'd lie about something like that?" Malfoy said scathingly. Harry ignored Malfoy and continued to look at Ginny.
"I-I tried to-to tell you… I did. It wasn't my f-fault, I- didn't want t-t-to. I swear. Harry-Harry I would n-never do that to you," she cried her voice little more then a croak.
"She's already lied to you Potter; don't tell me you're going to fall for her little performance- her act. She's betrayed you, she's only interested in saving her own skin," Malfoy sneered.
"Shut up Malfoy," Harry spat, whirling round to him, balling his fists in anger. Malfoy shrugged, the smirk playing over his face becoming more sinister. Harry strode purposefully over to Ginny, his face set. Taking her left arm a little more roughly then he had meant to, he pushed back the sleeve concealing her arm. He turned the left arm over to see the ugly souvenir that every Death Eater was given when they entered the service of Lord Voldemort. He looked up into her face, still gripping her arm tightly. Ginny's eyes were shining with a fear he had never seen her convey before.
"I-I didn't mean to Harry. It-It was Malfoy, he-he forced me to!" she stuttered. Harry shook his head turning round, starting to walk back towards the fray. "Harry! Where are you going! Please- please listen to me and maybe-"
He span round. "And maybe- maybe you're just another Death Eater, Ginny."
Nothing more was said. Even after Lord Voldemort was defeated later that day, Harry never spoke more then two words to her. He had never told anybody about what she had done, still unsure of the truth surrounding the circumstances that lead to her receiving the Dark Mark on her arm. Some part of him half hoped that one day they could repair what they had both lost that day. Love, friendship, respect, admiration, pride- everything that had been condemned by one stupid act. He hoped that day came soon.
A/N: So? Did you like? It'll only take a minute of your time to review, even if it's just a 'Good Job' it'll still mean the world to a writer! Please? Lol. Thanks to anniePADFOOT for beta-ing!