DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
After most of the students left for the spring holidays, Harry was left in a drastically de-populated castle. For the first time in his life, he was almost beginning to wish he could have left with the rest of the students. He'd been looking forward to being alone, but found that the deserted castle instead meant that it was increasingly harder to avoid Ron.
There had been a time when Harry would have enjoyed sharing an empty castle with Ron, but he barely talked to Harry anymore, and when he did, his tone was always laced with pain and resentment. Hermione had tried to strike some sort of balance between being friends with both Ron and Harry. However, it became clear very quickly that Ron wasn't softening his views of Harry. So, instead, she settled for silence and the occasional sympathetic smile at Harry.
Harry hadn't slept well at all since the twenty-fifth. When he did sleep, he woke up feeling worse than he did before he fell asleep. His dreams were always about Ginny now. Fear and worry haunted him while he was awake, but at night they came alive and clawed at him until he awoke, only to retreat and wait for him to return to his dreams. He was certain that most of the dreams were nothing more than manifestations of his own fears, but sometimes they felt different. Sometimes they felt tangible enough that they might have been visions of what was really happening.
And so, night after night he'd gone to sleep, hoping he might see what was really happening to Ginny, and wondering whether that would be relief or torture. This night was no different than the last, and yet again Harry was subjected to dream after dream of the worst things his mind could conjure, until he felt what he'd been waiting for. Something about this dream felt different.
The imagery was nothing new. He'd seen it many times. It was Ginny, of course. Her hair was dusty and unkempt, but still red enough to identify her immediately. It was her eyes, however, which were most familiar to him. Her seething, furiously defiant eyes. They seemed to stare right through Harry.
It was something of a favorite theme for Harry's most recent dreams. She would sometimes even speak to him, sometimes looking horribly sick, sometimes terribly beaten, but always blaming Harry. This time, she was simply staring. Harry wanted to look away, but he knew this was his fault. He needed to face this.
"Well?" she suddenly said. Her voice was hoarse and dry, as if she'd been shouting and screaming for some time. "You didn't come here just to look at me," she rasped. "So say or do whatever it is you are here for and leave me alone."
Harry didn't know what to say. He was about to try to respond when he heard a high pitched, hissing laugh from behind him. "Indeed," it laughed. "I should have expected as much from Potter."
Harry turned around to find himself face to face with Lord Voldemort. He recoiled and felt himself stumble, but instead of falling, he felt himself sail backward into a corner of the small room he was in. It wasn't a dream. This was real. At least, it was a vision of reality.
Harry looked around, trying to see if he could find anything to identify this place. It was small, and damp, with large stone brick walls and a dirty floor. A cellar, perhaps. There were a pair of smaller rooms to either side, but the only way out seemed be through the heavy door behind him. Ginny was huddled in a corner, covering herself with a large, dusty blanket. Her feet were bare, and Harry guessed they had taken her robes.
"What are you waiting for?" Ginny asked defiantly.
"I have heard a number of interesting rumors about you, girl. They say you are quite clever. While I may not have planned to meet you like this, I do not need spies to see that you are unique. Surely someone of your intellect can divine the reason for the... delay."
The defiance on Ginny's face melted away, and for the first time in any of Harry's dreams he saw fear behind her eyes. She swallowed hard. Her voice was faint, but the word echoed in Harry's mind.
"Harry."
There was an answering hiss of laughter from Voldemort. "Now please do use that mind of yours and behave. Your misbehavior will be paid for by his pain," said Voldemort as he paced toward her. When he spoke again, his voice was more conversational, but menacing.
"It appears that luck and some small bit of cunning have saved Lucius Malfoy yet again," he spoke. "I have released him from him imprisonment as my portion of a bargain involving information about you. However, I will not forget his actions, and I have recently been made aware of others who may serve me in his place." Voldemort walked to the heavy door and easily heaved it open, revealing a tall figure in a black robe. In a quiet hiss he said "Fetch the chest." Ginny could not hear what he'd said.
"Lucius—" he sneered "—has confirmed a curious bit of information for me, though I scarcely needed to be told. You have been in the Chamber of Secrets. In fact, you have opened it, have you not?"
Ginny stared back at him, saying nothing.
"I saw it in you immediately. I saw myself. You've noticed it, haven't you? That is why you were attracted to him. It is no coincidence that has brought you together. You saw in each other a missing piece of yourselves. You saw a piece of me."
"You can have it back!" Ginny yelled dryly. "I never wanted it."
"Foolish girl," Voldemort laughed, "You barely know what you have, though it is only a shadow of what Potter has. Still, there is something more which I am curious to know." Voldemort turned as a pair of Death Eaters struggled with a heavy chest. They dropped it roughly onto the floor in front of Ginny, cornering her.
"Leave us," Voldemort ordered. Ginny sank deeply into her corner, unsure of what was in the chest. A sickening smile spread across Voldemort's face. "Don't worry. It won't kill you. I would never allow that. It is merely a common Boggart." Ginny's face paled as Voldemort smiled cruelly and reached for the chest. "A pity you forgot to bring your wand."
Voldemort pulled back the heavy lid of the chest and a dark shape rose out if it. Ginny's face was deathly white as it stepped out of the chest toward her. She shrunk away, unable to stop staring at it.
"Come, Ginny," it said over Voldemort's loud laughs, "We'll finish it together. We'll finish the work of the great Salazar Slytherin. We can start with Harry... and then the Mudbloods will be helpless..." Harry's heart was pounding in his chest. A sixteen year old Tom Riddle was standing over Ginny, smiling.
"No, Tom... No..." Ginny whispered. "I won't let you..."
Tom laughed heartily. "Let me? How would you stop me, Ginny? You're just a little girl. You couldn't stop me then, either. But then, perhaps you weren't trying as hard as you said you were. By the end, I think you were starting to enjoy it. You took some of me with you. You couldn't let it all go, could you? Come along and we'll finish it together."
Ginny was covering her eyes and shaking her head. "No! I didn't want to! I didn't mean to!"
"Come now," Tom said as he mimicked the smile of Voldemort behind him, "Where has Harry Potter gotten you? Here? Cowering and helpless in some forgotten dungeon? You fancied me once. Why not again? Together we could rule the world! In time, you won't even remember the name Harry Potter. Let his death be your first triumph!"
Ginny was shouting and sobbing as Tom continued to talk to her with his gentle, poisonous voice. Voldemort walked away, leaving Ginny and Tom behind him. Harry was pulled after him. As he closed the door, he said quietly, "She is foolish, just as you are. However, this was just to feed my curiosity. She will have no memory of this night. It will be little more than a nightmare without a source. You however, will not be so lucky. Sleep well, Potter."
Harry was prepared for it, but it didn't matter. The pain in his scar was startling, and he sat up in his bed with a shout of pain. It hurt less than the last time, though not enough to easily ignore. As Harry stepped out of his bed and walked to the window he thought to himself about how accustomed he'd gotten to the pain. Nothing seemed to hurt as much anymore. How much did his scar normally hurt? How many people had died without him noticing? How much pain did it take for him to notice his scar above the constant throbbing he must endure every day?
The cool night air helped to drive off the pain from his scar. It didn't take long until it was barely noticeable. Harry turned to walk back to his bed, and saw Ron standing outside his own bed, staring at Harry.
"Was it her?" Ron asked sternly. Harry nodded and turned back to the window. "Is it... over?" he asked, choking a little on the final word. Harry knew that he meant more than he asked.
"She's alive," Harry answered quietly.
"So are you," Ron countered. "Would she wish your places were switched?" His voice was edged with the same anger he'd shown Harry since Ginny had been taken.
"No," Harry said flatly, knowing the answer "He'll let her live. But not me. Nothing can stop him. Not anymore."
"Dumbledore—"
"Dumbledore can't stop this. He won't. Only I could have," Harry felt a swelling of despair smothering him. He turned an empty gaze on Ron. "It's too late now. She'll live —for now— but what's the point? "
Ron's anger seemed to break and ebb away. "You don't know where she is?"
Harry turned back to the inky darkness of the night sky. "A cellar, it appears. Muggle cottage nearby, maybe. Maybe some magical castle in Germany. Could be anywhere." Harry didn't say any more, but part of him knew that it was probably nearby. Far enough to make looking for it pointless, but close enough to add a bitter sting to the knowledge that he was unable to save her.
"Is it that bad?"
Harry turned to look at Ron. "Go back to sleep, Ron." Harry walked to the door and opened it. "I'll just be down in the common room. I'll see you in the morning."
Harry sat motionless on the couch in the common room. He didn't want to dream any more tonight. He'd seen enough. He stared into the fire, wondering where the end was. He remembered his parents, and the screams of his mother. Had it been this bad then, he wondered. How much more of this would he have to endure?
He remained awake into the next morning. The house-elves had come through to clean the room, and had kept their distance from him. A pair of them had been kind enough to add a log to the fire and silently place a pair of pillows next to him.
The Easter holidays seemed to drag on, each empty day followed by a restless night of despair. Dreams and visions blended into a single unending nightmare. Harry walked around the castle in a daze, jumping at the slightest change in his surroundings.
He lost track of the days, and took to napping whenever he could find the time during the day. Ron still didn't talk much to him, but he also didn't seem as upset with Harry. Hermione tried to talk to Harry a number of times. Recently she'd started pleading with Harry to talk with Madam Pomfrey about the amount of sleep he'd been getting. It didn't sound like a bad idea, but at the same time, he didn't know how much sleep he'd been getting. It seemed like he spent most of his time asleep, yet he was always exhausted. A Dreamless Sleep Potion might help him rest, but it would also prevent him from knowing if anything had happened to Ginny.
Hermione had been able to get at least one piece of information through to him. Spring holidays would be ending soon. The students would be returning in just two more days. The thought of having to face his nightmares and a castle full of students staring at him was almost too much to think about.
His dreams that night were of Ginny. They were terrifying and uncontrollable, and yet, to some degree, Harry found them comforting. They helped him believe that she was still alive. Usually she would just be cowering in the corner, sometimes she would be shouting at Death Eaters, and sometimes she was just crying. They never lasted long. He guessed he could only get them when Voldemort was looking on.
His suspicions were confirmed that night as he had yet another vision. Ginny was sobbing in the corner, with her hands curled around a rough, shallow bowl. She took a drink, but stopped to let out a series of dry, hacking coughs. As he watched, he heard a familiar voice behind him.
"She's not so proud anymore, is she Potter?"
Harry didn't try to respond.
"She had to beg for that water. It's lightly poisoned, of course. Not so much to kill her, or even incapacitate her. Just enough to hurt. Enough to make her a little more cooperative."
Harry felt his hatred growing in him, threatening to explode and make him shout at the abomination behind him. He restrained himself, and remained quiet. In response, Harry felt Voldemort's anger rising.
"I see. Perhaps you've forgotten my earlier lesson." Voldemort whispered. He made a quick motion with his hand. "She's had enough," he hissed, and Harry flinched as a pair of Death Eaters passed through him as they opened the door and walked into the room. After the door was shut, one of them hung a heavy cloak over the window in the door to keep Harry from watching. He tried, but there was no way for him to see into the room.
He could hear the Death Eaters arguing with Ginny. Her voice was shaky and dry, and it was difficult to hear what she was trying to yell at them. They were clearly trying to take the water back, and Ginny undoubtedly wanted to keep drinking, no matter how ill it made her feel.
There was a bit of silence, then a wild scream filled the room and hallway. Before it died away, there was a number of quick shouts from the Death Eaters, and then a faint shriek followed by the sickening sound of a body falling onto stone.
"I'm afraid it's time to go, Potter," Voldemort hissed as he reached for the doorknob. "I have some urgent business to attend to."
Harry braced himself and only winced slightly as the pain sliced across his forehead. When his eyes opened, he saw only the interior of his bed in Gryffindor Tower. His heart was pounding and his hands were shaking. How much longer would this go on? How much longer could Ginny take this? How much longer could he?
He crawled out of bed and quietly walked to the door after grabbing a dressing gown. He carefully and slowly pulled the door open, trying not to make a sound.
"What did you see?"
Harry jumped at the sound of Ron's voice. He quickly searched the room and saw him sitting on the floor near the window. Ron wasn't looking at Harry, and was simply staring at the floor under his outstretched legs.
"They're just nightmares, Ron."
"No, they're not, Harry," Ron replied. "You see her, don't you? You see what they're doing... What's happening? Why are they keeping her?"
"I don't know, Ron. I don't even know if anything I see is real. Sometimes it feels real, but that doesn't mean anything."
"If it doesn't mean anything, why are you going downstairs? You've always had nightmares, but after some of them, you refuse to go back to sleep. If it's nothing, why do you act so different?"
Harry didn't have an answer for him. He couldn't tell Ron what he'd seen, even if he only told him the things he believed to be real. As he stepped into the hallway, he turned back to look at his friend.
"It'll be alright. Go back to sleep, Ron."
Harry went down to the common room, and waited for dawn, just like he had almost every night of the spring holidays. There would be only one more, and then the students would return. Harry knew that Voldemort would never release Ginny with all the students away on holiday, but perhaps once they came back he would and this could end.
That single thought helped Harry make it through the next two days, and when the students returned, he quietly remained in the sixth year dormitory, hoping to avoid everyone. Ron had been called to a D.A. Council meeting in Ginny's absence, and Harry was glad for the assurance of a couple hours of solitude.
He slept that night, hopeful that he might see some hint that Ginny would be released, or even that some change would happen. There was none, and Harry's dreams took a darker turn, becoming more violent and much less hopeful.
During the days, the looks he was getting from the other students were starting to become increasingly more worried. Professor McGonagall had offered him a small bottle of sleeping potion and Kingsley Shacklebolt had become concerned enough to send him from class to Madam Pomfrey. She'd suggested the same remedy, but Harry had refused it. He needed to dream so he could watch for any sign that Ginny's captivity had ended, for good or bad. He needed to know more than he needed to sleep.
Harry hadn't known a night of restful sleep for so long that the nights were more tiring than days now. He alternated between sleep and wakefulness so often that Ron had stopped taking notice.
His dreams were as bad as they had ever been. The only good news was that he was able to separate the visions from the horrors his own mind created with some amount of reliability. The real visions were mercifully few, and that was the only thing that made the rest of the dreams bearable. The vision were also stronger, more intense. He could feel them coming, whether he was awake or asleep. Much like he did right now.
Harry sat up and closed his eyes tightly. He knew what was coming, and it was strong. He didn't want the uncertainty of missing any part of it, so he relaxed and welcomed it. Through the dark he heard the sound of heavy boots on stone. It had begun.
He seemed to follow a large cloaked figure through a door he'd seen too many times. In the corner where she always was, sat Ginny, with a pair of masked Death Eaters on either side of her. She looked worse than the previous vision. There were bruises and small cuts on her arms. Her eyes were red, and she looked as if she hadn't slept in days. Despite her appearance, it was apparent she hadn't given up yet.
"Get out, you foul monster," she shouted at Voldemort as he walked toward her.
"Still trying to fight back, I see," Voldemort hissed. He walked to Ginny and crouched before her. "She is quite spirited."
"Whatever you're trying to do, it isn't working," Ginny spat. "You aren't going to kill me. So do whatever it is you brought me here for or let me go."
Voldemort laughed. "And what if we've already done what we brought you here for? Silly girl. You may be clever, but you still don't understand. You haven't been brought here so we can do something to you."
Ginny's eyes narrowed in confusion for a moment, but then her face became blank and expressionless. She stared coldly at Voldemort. The door opened behind them, and a single Death Eater entered the room. Voldemort turned to look at the man. "He's here?"
The Death Eater nodded quickly. Voldemort turned back to Ginny. "I'm afraid your time here with us is nearly over. In time, you will come to understand your purpose here, but it will be too late, I'm afraid." He stood and addressed the Death Eater in the doorway. "Bring him in."
A moment later, a smaller figure was led into the room, with a rough sack tied over their head. The captive's hands were bound and hung over a large wooden peg in the wall. With a wave of Voldemort's hands, the hood vanished.
Before Harry could make himself shift to see who it was, he heard a mournful, despairing moan from Ginny as she started sobbing. His mind raced. Who else had been caught? It couldn't be Ron. It was too short to be Bill, Charlie or the twins. Ginny was already pleading with Voldemort, but Harry's view was still blocked. Finally, the Death Eaters began to file out of the room.
What Harry saw shocked him. For a moment the room seemed to spin, and he felt faint. Hanging helplessly from the wall, he saw himself, bound and without glasses.
How could it be? It couldn't be. It was an illusion. It had to be.
"Harry!" Ginny wailed, "No, Harry. Why?"
Voldemort simply laughed. It echoed in the small room, drowning out Ginny's cries.
"Come now, Miss Weasley," he laughed. "Where is that defiance and courage you've shown us?" Ginny didn't answer. She was sobbing loudly in the corner, shaking out of fear and sadness. Voldemort walked toward her and the captive against the wall.
His hand reached into the robe pocket of whoever the Death Eaters had brought down, and pulled out a large knife. Harry recognized it immediately. It was the knife Charlie and Bill had given him. A choke in Ginny's cries let Harry know that she recognized it as well.
Voldemort said nothing, but walked back to the center of the room, and held the knife in front of him. Slowly, he peeled back his long fingers, leaving the knife floating in mid-air. With both hands splayed on either side of the knife, it began slowly floating forward, the point of the knife traveling slowly on its path toward the prisoner.
With a shout, Ginny leapt to her feet. She was wearing only her underwear, and seemed to have a large number of small bruises. For a moment she seemed unsure of what to do, but with a sudden leap, she grasped for the knife.
It barely moved. She gave a desperate yelp, as she realized what was happening. The knife continued slowly toward the man she thought was Harry. The tip of the knife was only a few feet from his stomach. He seemed to be trying to talk or call out, but no sound came out of his mouth.
Ginny struggled with all her strength against the knife as it moved closer and closer. She could not turn it aside, and had taken to trying to pull it back. She was able to slow it down, but it continued on its deadly course. She became more and more frantic. Putting all of her failing strength against the magic pushing it forward.
As the knife closed the last few inches, she screamed and cried as she tried to stop it. But after two weeks of captivity, her strength had waned, and she instead watched helplessly as the knife slowly buried itself in the tied man's stomach. He convulsed and dark crimson drops fell from the wound, spattering across the floor and wall.
Suddenly Ginny flopped to the floor, holding the bloody knife in her hands. Voldemort must have stopped pushing it. She stumbled to her feet, clenching the knife in her right hand. With a tortured scream, she threw the knife at Voldemort.
He seemed to have been expecting such an attack, and the knife seemed to bounce in mid-air, and shot back toward the man on the wall, stabbing him in the thigh.
Ginny let out a strangled gasp as she gingerly pulled the knife back out. She was crying freely now. "I'm sorry, Harry," she whispered to the man. "It's the only way..." As she turned the knife in her hand to get a better grip, she saw Voldemort advancing on her. She turned to attack him, but with a gesture of his hand, the knife turned and plunged back into the man's shoulder.
The man was now quite pale. His eyes were glassy and and barely moving. Harry was having trouble looking at him. The prisoner was identical to him in every way. The similarities were so complete that neither Ginny nor anyone else could have seen the difference. She was holding him and shouting things Harry couldn't make out.
Voldemort had walked up behind her, and with one quick motion he cruelly wrenched the knife out of the man's shoulder. He pushed Ginny aside and placed the tip of the knife over the man's heart. Ginny clutched at the knife wildly as it cut through the man's robes.
"Yes," Voldemort sneered. "We'll kill him together." The knife reached the mans chest, and a dark wet circle started to spread around the blade. Ginny screamed and struggled as hard as she could, trying everything in her power to fight him.
"It's only fitting," Voldemort whispered, "I never could have done it without you." As Ginny screamed and pulled back on the handle, he pushed the knife in as deep as it would go. Ginny collapsed onto the stone floor. She was covered in the man's blood, but she just layed on the floor gasping and sobbing. Voldemort laughed as he pulled the knife out of the man's chest. With one swift motion, Voldemort cut him down, and his body dropped to the ground next to Ginny.
She crawled next to the body and clutched at his chest, ripping open his robes and shirt. Her crying paused for a moment, then quickly grew to a tortured shout as she lifted something from his chest. At first, it was hard to tell what she'd seen, but she quickly reached under the prisoner's head and pulled out a long silver chain with a small shining object held between the ends. It was a replica of his own necklace.
Ginny wrapped it gingerly around her wrist, and collapsed onto the body, sobbing uncontrollably. Laughing, Voldemort turned and walked out of the room. Harry was pulled away, out of the room. Just outside the door were a pair of Death Eaters.
"Don't waste any time," he ordered them. "And bring the body when you're done." As Voldemort walked up the stairs, he continued laughing.
Harry felt his blood boiling. Voldemort seemed to be speaking, but he couldn't hear it. His vision was getting foggy, and wherever he was, it was very dark.
Suddenly, he realized that he was back in his own bed. Or rather, he'd never left, but his vision had stopped. He felt nothing but a consuming rage and before he knew it, he was out of his bed with a fresh set of robes on and searching for his wand. He grabbed his Invisibility Cloak and opened his trunk to grab his Firebolt.
"Harry?"
Harry turned to see Ron standing behind him. Ron looked scared and worried. Seeing Ron's expression reminded Harry of everything he'd just seen. He stumbled and fell to the floor. He felt ill. His scar burned and Ginny's cries echoed in his head.
He struggled to his feet and staggered out the door and down the stairs. Ron was right behind him, but Harry barely noticed. As he reached the common room, his anger returned, giving him the strength to run across the common room and out the portrait hole, leaving Ron shouting at him from the stairs.
He had to get out of the castle, but the windows wouldn't work. The Aurors would stop him. He had to fly quickly, and it wouldn't do to have Aurors firing jinxes at him while he was searching for Ginny. There was a better way.
He tossed the Invisibility Cloak over his head and bolted off down the hallway. As he ran, tried to think of where he should start looking. He didn't know of any cottages in the forest, but it seemed more likely than Voldemort choosing some cottage in full view of anyone.
He began climbing stairs. He climbed as fast as he could. He felt his chest burning and his heart beating harder than he could remember. Finally with with a heave, he threw open the door to the top of the Astronomy Tower.
He stood for a moment in the chilly night breeze, and looked over the moonlit grounds. Where would he start? The Forbidden Forest seemed to be the obvious choice: it was nearby, and he'd have to fly over it anyway. He folded the cloak and stuffed it in his bag, then walked to the edge of the tower and readied his broom.
"It's a fine evening for flying, isn't it?"
Harry whirled around, pulled his wand from his pocket and aimed it in the direction of the voice. Albus Dumbledore stood there, giving an impressed nod to Harry's reaction. Harry lowered his wand, but stared doubtfully at his Headmaster.
"Why are you here?" Harry asked.
"Because this is where you were going."
"I have to go. Ginny's in trouble."
Dumbledore nodded and frowned. "I see. And you believe this is the wisest action to take?"
"It's not like Sirius. I can tell the difference now. This is real."
"I do not doubt that, Harry," Dumbledore said in a soft, kindly voice. "I only question what actions you might take to resolve this problem."
Harry was caught between anger and doubt. He was losing time, but he also had not even considered what he would do if he found her. "I have to do something. I can't just watch— I can't... I can't stop it, here."
"That is true," Dumbledore said as he sat down on the low wall surrounding the top of the tower. "I do believe it will stop if you leave," he said solemnly, "but before you choose that road, remember that you have been in this situation before, and that Tom Riddle was the one who put you there."
"It's not the same!" Harry shouted.
"No, indeed it is not. I only ask that you at least consider the possibility that this reaction is precisely what Voldemort is expecting from you." Dumbledore stood and walked to Harry.
"You didn't see what I saw," Harry said shakily. "He... I don't know how..."
"All the more reason to remain where you are," Dumbledore said firmly. "He knows you Harry. He may understand you better than you thought possible. You know he has something planned. You must not do what he expects you to. There is nothing you can do to change Miss Weasley's fate." Dumbledore stared into Harry's eyes. "He has not killed any of us, yet. I do not believe he will kill Ginny. Trust in that."
Dumbledore reached out and placed his hands on Harry's shoulders. "I cannot guess what you have seen. I do not believe I would choose to see it if it were laid before me, but if you will remain here, I will help you in any other way you might think of."
Harry looked into Dumbledore's eyes and saw concern and caring. He'd lost a father and a godfather, and here was yet another person who was trying to fill his father's shoes. Harry desperately wanted to go and search for Ginny, no matter what had happened. Yet he also wanted to trust Dumbledore. How could he choose?
There was a way. He laid his Firebolt on the floor, and sat down near it with his back to the low wall. He held up a hand to stop Dumbledore from approaching. He closed his eyes and concentrated on Voldemort. He couldn't see anything, but he could feel him.
"He's angry," Harry finally said immediately. After a moment, he felt it change. "He's disappointed." Harry knew that Dumbledore was right. Whatever was happening, Voldemort wanted Harry to leave, and it was upsetting his plans that he was not. That seemed enough to make Harry want to stay.
Dumbledore started asking Harry many questions, never asking for what he'd seen, but only for details that might help.
"He's nearby. He expected me to be there quickly," Harry explained. Dumbledore seemed to think it was good news. "He also told Ginny that she wouldn't be there for much longer." At this news, Dumbledore seemed to jump into action.
"Stay here. You'll get nothing from your classes tomorrow. With help from Fawkes, we will be able to search while you remain safely here." Dumbledore held up his wand, and it glowed a bright, cheerful blue color. "The Aurors will know you're here. No one will be allowed in the upper tower. If what you say is true, I expect Miss Weasley to return to us soon. If we find her before then, it will only be to our advantage."
And so Harry sat on the tower. A pair of Aurors came up eventually to supply him with a chair, and his text books. Among the books were a pair of Ron's Quidditch books. He must know where Harry was. He'd probably found the Map and figured out what Harry was doing. It comforted Harry a little to know that Ron had not completely given up on him.
Harry spent the rest of the night pacing the tower as Fawkes searched the areas that Harry felt they were most likely to find Ginny. By dawn, he began to think that it might be hopeless, but he continued on nonetheless.
By noon of that day, Dobby had already retrieved the dishes Harry had eaten his lunch on, promising to be back with supper that evening if Harry was still on the tower. Fawkes returned less frequently, and Harry was running out of ideas to tell Fawkes.
At sunset, Fawkes returned, but Harry didn't sent him back out. He gave up for the day. With any luck, he'd have another vision that night, and he'd be able to find something more for Fawkes to look for. So Harry slept, while Fawkes sang softly to him.
Early the next morning Harry awoke with a start, and felt his heart sink upon seeing the first rays of the sun creeping across the treetops. He felt rested, and yet as he looked out over the grounds, he felt an overwhelming panic. Something had woken him up.
Suddenly the treetops were splashed with a flickering green light. An Auror had sent up sparks calling for help. Harry couldn't tell where the sparks had come from, but he knew where he should go.
"Fawkes!" Harry shouted, to the bird sleeping nearby. "I need you to take me to the large oak just outside the gates!"
With a few graceful beats of his wings, Fawkes was in the air and swooping low toward Harry. Harry reached up to grab Fawkes' tail, and with a feeling not unlike jumping into a Floo fire, Harry found himself standing outside Hogwarts not far from the tree which so many of the attacks had revolved around. To his relief and horror, he found what he'd expected.
Ginny, still covered in blood and clothed only in her underwear, was hanging from a large branch by her bound wrists. Some manner of post had been driven into the tree, and she had been left to hang limply on it. Harry didn't see her moving at all.
Harry pulled his wand and cut her down from the tree. His throat was dry and he was having trouble breathing. Her body was heavy and limp, and her skin felt cold and clammy against his hands. He shook her violently, trying desperately to wake her, and when she didn't he struggled to search for any sign that she was still alive. Please be alive, please be alive Harry chanted to himself.
He pressed his fingers against her bloodstained neck. He let out a wild cry as he felt the pairs of rhythmic pulses which told him that she was still alive. He laid her down and raised his wand to the sky, sending a bright shower of red sparks into the brightening sky.
He looked around himself, and back to the tree where he'd found her. A chill ran down his spine as his eyes fixed on the peg she'd been hung from. It was not a peg or post as he had thought, but his very own knife.
The Aurors would arrive soon. He didn't want to explain it to them. He wanted to forget. The knife should be destroyed and forgotten.
Accio Knife!" Harry shouted quickly as he heard the first Auror running toward him. It pulled free of the branch and leapt obediently into his hand. He slid it into his robes. He didn't know what he was going to do with it, but he didn't want Ginny or anyone else to ever see it again, and he was certain that wouldn't happen if the Aurors took it.
Harry walked back to Ginny, and gingerly stood her up. Her body leaned against him limply, but he could still feel warmth coming from her, now. She would be alright. She had to be.
Harry heard the sound of quick footsteps approaching him. He turned to see an Auror running down a small hill toward him.
"What are you— Merlin's beard!" the Auror gasped. "Not another one. Who is it, boy?"
Harry struggled to turn and let the Auror see him in the dim morning light. "It's Ginny Weasley. I'm taking her to the Hospital Wing."
"It's too late, Potter," the Auror said as he pulled his wand. "They're all dead."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry replied, "but she's still alive."
The Auror seemed as confused as Harry, but he ran over to Ginny and clutched her arm. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped. "She's still alive. We need to hurry."
He pointed his wand into the sky and fired a jet of green sparks into the air, followed by a second burst of bright blue. "Come on, we have to get her to the castle."
"I'll see you there," Harry said and without any need for a command, Fawkes swooped low over Harry. He pulled Ginny tight against him with one arm and reached for Fawkes with another.
In a flash of fire he was gone. The Auror was left speechless, but Madam Pomfrey was not. Her initial scream upon Harry's sudden appearance was more than enough to draw the attention of Argus Filch. When she realized who it was, her face paled, and she ran forward to help him lay Ginny onto a bed. Fawkes circled the room twice, before disappearing in a burst of flame just as suddenly as he'd appeared. Once Ginny was laying down, Pomfrey dashed off leaving Harry alone by Ginny's side. Madam Pomfrey threw a ridiculously large handful of powder into the fireplace on the other side of the room, and quickly leaned into the fire.
"Minerva! Minerva, you must wake up!"
"What is going on here?" Filch growled from the doorway. "Hold on, what is Potter doing here? Out of bounds, eh Potter? Pomfrey catch you raiding her closets?"
Pomfrey didn't seem to hear him. Instead she seemed to be frantically talking with Professor McGonagall. Harry turned to try and talk with Filch, but as soon as Filch saw him, his face paled as well.
"What— Merlin's Ghost! What have you done, Potter?"
"He's brought Ginny Weasley back, Argus. You must find the Headmaster." Madam Pomfrey said as she rushed back over to Ginny and threw a number of thick blankets over her. "And someone should notify the Aurors. There might still—"
"The Aurors already know," Harry interrupted. "They said there are others... but they're all dead."
Madam Pomfrey sighed, but she didn't stop looking over Ginny. Her wand was glowing lightly and she seemed to be looking quite concerned. "I don't think she's in immediate danger, but someone should at least tell the girl's family that she has been found."
"I'll do it," Harry said flatly. "It should be me."
"You'll do nothing of the sort. You'll lay down in a bed until I figure out just how bad you're hurt."
"I'm not hurt," Harry tried to explain. "I just found her."
"I have no time to argue with you, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey scolded him. "Now lay down so I can return to Miss Weasley."
Harry didn't want to lay down. He wasn't hurt, but as he looked down at himself he saw that he too looked pale and sickly, but more noticeably, he too was covered in blood. There was nothing he could to help Ginny right now, but he didn't want to leave her, either, so he quickly laid down in the next bed and waited. Dumbledore would be here soon. Fawkes would find him.
The room around him started getting hazy. He tried to sit up and clear his head, but he realized that he simply didn't have the strength. He was exhausted. He tried to keep his eyes open, but it had been too long since he'd slept as well as he should have. Ginny is safe, he told himself, it'll be alright. He felt himself drifting off to sleep, and with his last thoughts, made a single plea: No more visions. He emptied his mind, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
When Harry finally drifted back awake, he saw a drastically different world than he had left. The empty, dimly lit room filled with dark shadows and no sound was replaced with a chamber of soft white light from the curtains which reflected the morning sun and separated him from the sources of the many voices and walking shoes around him.
Harry tried not to make any sound. He preferred the solitude of his bed right then, despite his past opinions of the Hospital Wing. He could not tell how many other people were in the room, but it seemed to be more than ten. Harry tried to catch as much as he could of the conversations going on outside.
"—was no warning at all, and after the first flares went up, they were going up all over the place. We didn't even know—"
"—by a tree. Rand said that he thought he saw something, but he ran off, and we didn't find him until after the fireworks. We see things all the time in the forest, there wasn't really any reason to think—"
"—said Hughes should be fine. He was patched up, but the wound isn't normal. That witch from St. Mungo's has been poking around in it, trying to figure out what did it. Bloody Death Eaters, what were they playing at?"
"—got her to drink that potion she's been looking a little better. There's still no word on what happened. They still haven't heard—"
"—and then we sent up sparks, but we'd have just as well conjured a flock of flamingos. At least that would have gotten someone's notice. There were five warnings in the sky, two of them calling for support. How were we to know which was most urgent? The worst part—"
"—if she'd just put the bloody bandages back like Pomfrey told her, it would heal up and he'd be able to go. And this place could do with a few less visitors—"
"—seems Miss Weasley will be just fine." Harry perked up immediately, and almost sat up in bed. It was Madam Pomfrey talking. He strained to hear more. "I've checked many times now. I can find no injuries on her other than some minor cuts and bruises."
"No injuries? Are you daft? I saw the Potter boy pick her up. I'm telling you there was so much blood I could barely tell it was her." Harry guessed that Pomfrey must have been talking to the Auror who had seen him.
"And I'm telling you that it wasn't her blood. It wasn't Potter's either, though I'd not have been surprised if it would have been. He dropped unconscious only seconds after I started on Miss Weasley. But he doesn't have a scratch on him—for once in his life." She seemed to be mixing up a large potion. Harry sincerely hoped that it wasn't for him.
"I wouldn't even be certain I could say that it was blood. That cloth over there is the one I first used to clean her face with— one of them, at least. It's been four hours and the blood looks as fresh as it did when she came in."
"I believe we may already have the answers," said a voice that was obviously Dumbledore's. "If I guess correctly, Harry has already seen the cause of this, though I do not know if he will ever talk of it. It was a horrible test for him, and yet he passed."
"Then there's no doubt it's the reason he looks scarcely better off than she does," the Auror said. "He seemed lively enough when I saw him, but he was just as unresponsive as her when I got here."
"As we should expect, I assure you," Dumbledore said. "Harry has not seen a restful sleep in two weeks. Sleep has done him more good than any potion Poppy could mix up."
"Well, how much longer do we let him sleep? If he has all the answers, Shacklebolt wants them now while we still might be able to do something with them."
"Of course," the Headmaster agreed. "I'm afraid you will have to wait for your answers, but the question of how long Harry should remain asleep is not for us to decide. He is already awake, and has been listening to you for some time."
Harry sat up slowly and watched as the Auror pulled aside the curtains and stared at him. The Auror turned first to look at Dumbledore, then back to Harry. Harry simply stared back. The Auror's eyes glanced in the direction of Ginny's bed, and he smiled sympathetically at Harry. "I'll tell Shacklebolt you're awake. We'll make sure no one bothers you until... Well, until later."
As he walked off, Dumbledore pulled back more of the curtains, allowing others to see that he was awake. A murmur seemed to go through the room as people realized that Harry was awake again.
"Good morning, Harry," Dumbledore said in a friendly voice. Harry quickly checked to see that he was still wearing his robes. He was, and it seemed they had been cleaned. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and slowly stretched hist muscles which were still stiff from the sleep he'd had on the hard tower. He turned and gave Dumbledore a serious look.
"How is Ginny?"
Dumbledore pulled back another curtain, and Harry saw Ginny laying peacefully on her bed. Her hair was still messy, but her skin was clean and the bruises he'd seen on her arms two nights ago were barely visible.
"She is sleeping, we believe," Dumbledore said quietly. "Poppy can find nothing wrong with her. Would you know if there is anything else which may be preventing her from waking up?"
Harry tried to remember anything, but he realized that he'd never seen any of the Death Eaters use any magic on her. "No," he said finally, "I don't think he let me see anything like that, but it didn't look like she was getting much sleep." Dumbledore simply nodded.
"Then we will simply wait and see what happens," he said, trying to sound encouraging. "Until then, I might suggest that you go and get yourself some food. You should still be able to find food in the Great Hall. If not, I'm sure you know where to go." His eyes twinkled as he said it, and Harry felt a smile spreading across his face. It felt refreshing.
"Ginny will be fine. I will make certain that you are able to see her as soon as possible. If I were you, I would leave quickly, before Poppy finds out you're awake," he whispered conspiratorially. "Your family is waiting outside for you, I believe. They were quite eager to see you earlier."
Harry stared at Dumbledore as he stood shakily. "If the Dursley's were eager to see me, you should have sent out the Aurors. They're obviously Death Eaters in disguise."
"I may have done just that," Dumbledore laughed, "but I did not say the Dursley's were waiting for you. It is your family on the other side of that door."
He understood immediately. "The Weasley's?" he asked, though he already knew he was right. Dumbledore nodded with a smile. Harry felt suddenly dizzy, and he could feel a cold sweat coming on. What would they say? Did they know about him and Ginny? Would Hermione and Ron have told them? His feet seemed to be glued to the floor.
"I'm afraid they have formed something of a barricade. You won't make it out past them." Dumbledore seemed to be laughing at Harry's distress. How could he not understand? With a gentle shove on his back, Dumbledore pushed Harry forward and toward the door. "Go on, they are very worried about you."
Harry knew he'd have to do it sooner or later. Now was as good a time as any. He walked toward the door, ignoring the whisperings of the people around him. At the door, he paused and listened for voices. Just as Dumbledore had said, he heard Ron talking to a number of laughing people.
"—and he was trying to use some of that wandless magic that he's got, but Ginny just ignored him, and she started to pretend that there's something really horrible behind him, like a dragon or gigantic spider—"
"—Oh no, don't tell us he fell for that!" one of the twins laughed.
"'Course he did," Ron laughed, "but that's not the best part. By time he figures out that he's just been made a fool of, Ginny's already disarming him, and his wand flies off into one of the water pitchers on the table. So, Harry tries to summon it back, but Ginny figures it out, and froze the water in the pitcher."
Harry could hear a large number of laughs coming from the other side of the door. Were they all here? Why did he have to face them all?
"The best part was the look on his face. I don't think I've seen him look so confused. It was like Goyle with his hand stuck in one of the sweets jars at Honeyduke's."
There was more laughing.
"Clever way to end a duel," a deeper voice laughed. It must have been Bill's.
"Oh, it didn't end there. They made him keep fighting." Harry couldn't make out what everyone said after this, but it seemed that there were a range of reactions, from amusement to outrage. "He blocked the next few spells, with his hands, I guess," Ron explained, "but eventually he missed one, a Tickling Charm. He mostly just flopped on the ground laughing after that. Then he sort of just passed out."
"He passed out?" a woman's voice asked. Harry felt a new wave of fear. Molly Weasley was outside. It must be all of them.
"Harry's wandless magic isn't normal," Harry heard Hermione explain, "It's more powerful than it's supposed to be, and I think it really drains him to use it. That's not the only time it's happened."
"Still, I'd give quite a few galleons to see that again," one of the twins said. "The Omnioculars from Halloween were priceless."
Harry decided that now was as good a time as any. If he was lucky, he could at least prevent the rest of the Weasley's from sharing one more of his more embarrassing moments. He slowly opened the door, and forced himself to walk through the narrow opening.
"The look on his face..." Fred was laughing, "It was—"
"Well I couldn't have looked worse than Goyle stuck in a sweets jar," Harry said as he glanced at Ron.
The entire Weasley family was indeed right outside the door along with Hermione, and at they were all staring at him in surprise. As a group, they began moving toward him quickly. For a moment, Harry wasn't sure if they were happy or furious, but that was quickly answered for him as they all surrounded him as Molly and Arthur hugged him tightly. The rest of the family were either vigorously shaking his hand or slapping him on the back.
His fear was slipping away as he saw how genuinely relieved the Weasley's were to see him. However, the happier they looked, the more guilty Harry felt. It was his fault that Ginny wasn't out here with them. If it weren't for him, they would have no reason to be here at all. Harry tried to stop them from congratulating him and thanking him, but they didn't seem to listen or care. The more he tried to stop them, the more they tried to pull him toward them.
"Oh, you must be starving," Molly exclaimed. "How long has it been since you've eaten a proper meal?" Harry just brushed the question aside and tried to apologize, but Molly ignored him. "Come on, let's get you some food."
Harry jerked his hand away, and stepped away from the closest people he had to a real family. "I'm not hungry," he said firmly.
"Did one of the elves bring you food?" Arthur asked. "One of them said he'd tell us if they did. You know, just so we'd know you were okay."
"No, they didn't—"
"Smashing, we'll go get some food. I bet the elves still remember us," Fred said as he and George turned to walk off.
"I said I'm not hungry!" Harry shouted in frustration. This seemed to get everyone's attention.
"What's the matter, Harry?" Hermione asked.
"What's the— Ginny's laying unconscious in there!"
"Well, Pomfrey's the best, isn't she?" Charlie said with a shrug. "Dumbledore said she's been through a lot, but that she'll be fine."
Harry's mouth moved soundlessly as he tried to think of the words to best explain how much the Weasley's weren't understanding the situation.
"She's in there because of me!" he finally blurted, not caring who else might hear him.
"We know, Harry," Bill said calmly, "and we'll never be able to thank you enough. You've saved Ginny twice now."
"I've... Wait— no," Harry stammered. "It's my fault she was taken. She never would have had to see... She—" He stopped himself. He couldn't tell them what he'd seen. They would just have to trust him. "You don't understand what happened. It's my fault."
"We understand, Harry," Hermione said with a sympathetic smile. "It was Ron and I who warned Dumbledore that night. If you'd have left, Voldemort would have killed her just to hurt you. That's what he wanted. You stayed, and Ginny lived."
"But she never should have been in danger," Harry argued. "I never should have let her—"
"We're all in danger, remember Harry?" interrupted Bill. "And you must know what Ginny is like. You couldn't have stopped her."
Ron looked like he might have agreed with Harry for a moment, but both of them reluctantly agreed with Bill and the rest of the Weasley's. He knew that they were right. There was nothing he could have done, and leaving would have made it worse.
The twins ran off to fetch some food from the kitchens, while Harry sat down and chatted uneasily with the Weasley's. Ron and Hermione were sitting together, but Ron had made no effort to sit next to Harry. He didn't seem to be angry with him. Instead, he seemed to feel the same discomfort Harry felt around him.
When the twins returned, they ate a noisy lunch in the hallway outside the room where Ginny lay asleep, surrounded by a number of very confused wizards. The traffic in and out of the room was constant, despite the small number of people allowed to enter, mostly a few Aurors and some official from the Ministry.
Dumbledore had not left, and Kingsley Shacklebolt had never come by, even though he had passed his classes off to other Aurors for the day. Harry understood why without anyone explaining it to him. Dumbledore wanted to be there when Ginny woke up, but he was still worried that Voldemort might do something more while everyone worried about Ginny.
Harry waited patiently for some time with the Weasleys. He tried to remain quiet mostly, but Bill and Charlie were curious about the D.A. and everything they'd been learning from the Aurors. As he talked to them, he suddenly remembered their gift. The knife was still in his one of his pockets, and it was probably still covered in blood.
He felt cold and slightly ill thinking about it. He needed to get rid of it, and soon. What if Ginny would wake up and see it? Without warning, Harry stood up, surprising Arthur and Molly, who'd been talking quietly to each other.
"I— er..." Harry stammered as he tried to think of some reason to go to his dormitory. "I have to get ready for Transfiguration."
"Are you mental?" George exclaimed. "McGonagall didn't even expect you to wake up, much less show up in her class."
"Well... I'm sorry, but I think I'd like the distraction, you know?" Hermione gave Harry a funny look.
"Oh, of course, dear," Molly said in a very motherly tone. "You go to class. You can come back when you're done. We'll let you know if anything happens."
Harry slowly walked past the Weasleys and sighed as he turned the corner, as if they might have sensed he was hiding something. The hall was empty now that he was away from the Hospital Wing. Harry was okay with the emptiness. It would mean he didn't have to deal with any questions.
His enjoyment was short lived, however, and not more than a minute after he'd left, he heard quick, heavy footfalls coming up behind him. He tried to control his anxiety, but part of him was imagining the worst news. His heart pounded a little harder in his chest when he turned and saw Bill running up to him.
"I wanted to talk to you," Bill panted as he stopped abruptly in front of Harry. "About Ginny. After she wakes up and gets out of the Hospital Wing—"
"I've already heard this from Ron," Harry said, not even trying to hide his irritation. Now simply wasn't the time for them to talk to him about this.
However, Bill looked confused. "I doubt it. Ron's been a bit protective of Ginny— Well, we all are, but Ron doesn't understand her like I do." Harry was caught off guard by his answer, and his eyes narrowed in suspicious curiosity as Bill continued to explain himself.
"Ginny... you, er... you still fancy her, don't you? I need you to be as honest as you can." Harry was surprised by how serious Bill looked as he asked the question. Finally, he nodded. Bill looked Harry in the eye.
"Stay with her," he said plainly, but it sounded to Harry like more of a plea. "She's going to need someone. And if what Hermione says is true, no one understands her like you do. And no matter how guilty you might feel about what's happened—"
"It's my fault. I'm not going to—" Harry tried to interrupt.
"—you know that she's safest when she's with you. Hermione told us what she did. She's the one who did this," Bill said, and then quickly held up his hand to stop Harry from trying to argue with him. "I'm not saying it was her fault. I'm saying that she chose to do this, because she didn't want Voldemort to user her against you. She wanted to show him that it wouldn't work. She needed to prove that to him. She'll need you to show him, too. If you avoid her—"
"Voldemort will know that it did work." Harry stared at the large torches burning on the walls. "And you think it will stop him from doing anything to Ron and Hermione? Or anyone else?"
"We all know the dangers involved, Harry," Bill said solemnly, "but if you push her away because of this, Voldemort will know just what it takes to attack you. It's getting serious, Harry. They've been keeping it out of the papers, but there is talk of closing Hogwarts until he's stopped. You know what that means."
Bill turned to walk back, but hesitated, and turned to look at Harry again. "You don't have to, Harry. I only said so because I think you both want to be together. We trust you, Harry. Just do what feels right." With that, Bill turned and slowly walked away.
Harry turned and walked the opposite direction. He was too confused to try and solve that problem right now. He was certain that Ginny would be safer if she weren't around him, but Bill had made everything more difficult. How many more friends would he lose? If everyone Voldemort attacked abandoned him, and he avoided everyone who supported him, why would Voldemort stop? Would Hermione stop being his friend? Would Ron?
As Harry climbed the stairs to his dormitory, he remembered the discussion he'd had with Dumbledore on the top of the Astronomy Tower. He had to fight back, even if that meant doing nothing. But would it matter?
As Harry slipped into new robes and wrapped the knife in his old robes, he already knew the answer. No. He didn't even know what he was fighting. No one did. It was just as obvious now as it ever was. Voldemort was waiting for something, but even Dumbledore could not figure out just what that was. Harry grabbed his books and set off to his Transfiguration class.
Throughout the class, his mind kept drifting. Ron and Hermione had both shown up, if only because Harry was there. Hermione was kept busy by answering questions and elbowing Harry whenever McGonagall noticed his lack of attention.
They were supposed to be learning a number of Liquefaction Charms, but Harry's mind kept returning to Voldemort. Eventually, the lecture ended, and the students were left to practicing the charms. Again, Harry showed an abnormal amount of talent with the spells. While Ron struggled with the feathers, Harry had already moved on to one of the old shoes which were sitting in a corner for their use.
"It's mostly liquid," Ron said as he held up the long stick-like spine, which was now dripping with a dark, disgusting paste. Hermione gave it a sickened look and proceeded to put it out of its misery with the correct version of the charm.
"Harry? Harry!"
Harry jumped in his seat, causing some of the students nearby to laugh quietly. He turned to see Hermione giving him a worried look.
"You were just sitting there, staring at that shoe."
"Oh. Right."
With a swish and stab of his wand, the shoe melted immediately into the large bowl in front of him. But instead of simply sitting peacefully, it began to bubble and smoke, filling the air with an acrid smell.
Professor McGonagall hurried over, and with a flick of her wand, the boiling liquid disappeared in a puff.
"Please be a bit more careful, Mr. Potter," she scolded him. "This is serious magic. You need to concentrate on it."
She turned and walked off, leaving Harry more frustrated than he was before. "Maybe I should have just stayed in the common room."
"Nonsense, Harry, you just need to learn a little more control," Hermione said, trying to be encouraging.
Harry looked into the large bowl where the liquid shoe had been. He never had problems controlling his magic. This was Voldemort's magic, and he wasn't getting any better at controlling it.
"He's never going to stop," Harry said in a low voice so only Ron and Hermione could hear him.
"Who's not going to stop?" Ron asked as he finally reduced a feather to a small dark pool.
"You know who."
"We're not going to stop either, Harry," Hermione whispered. "That's all we can do."
Ron shrugged and looked at Harry. "It's too late to run away now." And without another thought, he stood up to get a shoe.
Hermione just smiled at Harry. Harry nodded. It really was too late. He'd never be left alone. Neither would Ron, or Hermione, or Ginny. Of course, only Harry had any chance of standing up to Voldemort. If he were to truly attack them...
He jabbed his wand, and correctly liquefied another shoe Ron had fetched for him. There was a loud thud from the back of the room as the door flew open and struck the stone wall beside it. An Auror panted as he staggered into the room. McGonagall was already striding toward him with her wand drawn.
"Harry Potter," he said between gasps. "Potter... is needed in the Hospital... Hospital Wing. The Weasley girl... something's wrong."
Harry had stuffed his things in his bag and was running for the door before the Auror had even finished. Ron was right behind him, leaving Hermione to carry his bag and her own.
Author's Notes:
Those of you wondering about the 'M' rating should have your answer now. I believe I said the story was going to get a bit heavier.
And I hope you all appreciate the fact that I stayed up making sure you didn't have to wait to see what was happening to Ginny.
Just remember that while you're complaining about the slightly dark chapter.