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.
Harry didn't care about any of his classes, anymore. When it came time for him to go to Herbology, he ignored the rest of the students and walked back to Gryffindor Tower. Walking was still tiring work, but he no longer had any problems staying on his feet. He was certainly capable of going to Herbology, but it simply didn't seem important.
Claire had made it through the night, with some help from Snape, who had found some potion to slow the action of the poison flowing through her veins. She was still far to weak and sick to even wake up, but it had given many people hope for her recovery.
Hermione was doing a little better than she had been the day before, but she still wasn't strong enough to leave the Hospital Wing. Harry would have visited her, but with Claire there, it wouldn't have been very relaxing for either of them. So he was going to sit and wait in Gryffindor Tower for news.
He sat there all through the afternoon, leaving only for a quick lunch. The other students left him alone for the most part. Harry didn't feel like talking to anyone, and everyone seemed to understand that. Even Ginny kept quiet around him. She came in between her classes to sit silently with him, speaking only to announce her departure. The thought of eating dinner with a hall full of students didn't sound appealing, but it wasn't enough to completely cure his hunger. As a compromise between his stomach and his mood, he slipped down to the kitchens and ate a sandwich while the rest of the house elves frantically prepared for the evening meal.
Shortly after Harry got back to the common room, he heard the portrait open and Ron walked into the room, still wearing the bandages around his head. He was also still avoiding Hermione for the most part. He'd been walking with her that morning, but both of them had looked miserable. It looked as if Ron wasn't any more keen on dinner than he was. Ron was eating a sandwich much like the one the elves had given Harry. He took a seat next to Harry and for a few minutes they sat on the couch staring out the window, not saying anything to each other.
"You up for a game of chess?" Ron finally asked. Harry had nothing better to do, and it would at least give him something to think about.
They put the board down in front of the empty fireplace, and sat on the floor as they played. It was far from their first time playing, and Harry recognized most of the strategies that Ron used to start games. The one he was using today was aggressive, almost forceful. Harry countered it with a slightly less aggressive response. If Ron were really in the mood to play chess, Harry didn't have much of a chance to win. He might, however, succeed in drawing out the game long enough to serve as a decent distraction.
Ron quickly adapted and became a little more subtle in his choices of moves. For some time, the pieces slid back and forth, moving only short distances and covering each other in an intricate web. Things seemed to be going well for Harry, and when Ron's bishop stepped out into the center of the board, he had to stop and examine the board more closely.
Did Ron know what he had just done? Where there had once been a solid defense, there was now a slight weak spot. Whether it was because he was distracted by the thought of Hermione, or even pity for what Harry had been through, Harry decided it wouldn't be fair to ignore it.
Harry's knight jumped around Ron's bishop, and blocked its escape. Ron's pieces marched back and forth, in a vain effort to save it, but it was only a matter of time before Harry's knight tossed the bishop from the board. Harry let himself smile for just a moment. Ron saw it, and Harry quickly forced himself to stop.
"It's alright, Harry," Ron said as he pointed his pawn to the right square. "You're allowed to be happy about it."
Harry scanned the board, looking for the opening that might allow him to weaken Ron more. With a slight nudge, his rook reluctantly slid forward, nearly two-thirds of the way across the board. After another round, Ron had lost a rook as well.
Any contentment Harry might have had disappeared the next move. He should have been paying a little more attention. One of Ron's knights put his king in check, while threatening a bishop. A rook was in position to take the knight, but it would leave him open to Ron's remaining bishop and queen.
Harry closed his eyes and made his decision. Even without a bishop, he'd still have enough pieces to put Ron in a tight position. Despite complaints from his king, Harry directed him to a neighboring square. Ron took the bishop, and Harry attempted to protect his king by pulling back his rook. Ron took his other knight the following turn, and his rook the turn after that.
Harry struggled to understand what had happened to put him in such a bad situation. His pieces were scattered across the board, without any of the organization he'd spent so much time trying to build. Even his queen was pinned into a corner, still in play but nearly useless.
He took a moment to try and find some way out of the disaster he'd created. It had started out so well, he told himself. There was no way out of it. Ron was simply too good. Perhaps he was the one who was distracted. He needed to think. He closed his eyes and rubbed them, hoping to see some answer to his problems. Instead, he saw a hallway.
Harry jumped to his feet, nearly scattering the chess board. Ron stared at him in apprehensive fear.
"Harry? What's wrong?"
"Death Eaters," Harry answered as he closed his eyes and concentrated on what he saw. Slowly the images came to him. A pair of cloaked figures striding down a hall. It was a hall Harry remembered, but it wasn't at Hogwarts. They turned a corner and burst through a doorway to enter a room with rows of beds. It was like the Hospital Wing, but different. It had to be St. Mungo's.
"Find Dumbledore," he commanded.
"And tell him what?" Ron asked. "What do you see?"
Harry watched passively as the cloaked wizards walked up to a bed at the far end of the room. One of them bent over the bed, and whispered to a face that Harry recognized too well.
"The Dark Lord keeps his promises," he hissed. "You can go to your daughter now, knowing that Harry Potter will join you soon."
Capella York's eyes opened wide and she was only able to scream for an instant before it was drowned by a louder voice.
"Avada Kedavra"
There was a flash of green light and the sound of rushing air in his ears. His scar was throbbing, and he felt disoriented. When he opened his eyes, he found the Gryffindor common room tipping precariously on its side. A moment later, he felt pain shoot through his ribs as he hit the arm of one of the nearby chairs before landing on the floor.
Ron was saying something to him, but all Harry could hear was the laughter of the Death Eaters as they continued attacking the other occupants of the room. As Harry struggled to stand up, the sound seemed to be fading.
"Death Eaters at St. Mungo's," Harry finally said as he leaned heavily on the chair behind him. "I've got to find Dumbledore." He took a step, but his leg gave out under the weight and he nearly fell a second time.
"You need to sit down," Ron told him, "You can barely stand. I'll find Dumbledore. You stay right here." Ron gave him a stern look, and then ran for the portrait.
Gradually, his balance returned to him. Ron had only been gone a short while, but Harry was starting to get anxious. He slowly realized what he'd seen. Death Eaters had murdered Claire's mother. Someone needed to tell Claire.
Claire.
As if triggered by the vision, his mind replayed the words Voldemort had said the night her family had been attacked. Voldemort had let her live so that she would see Harry fail. Had he failed? His heart was beating wildly. If they had killed Claire's mother, it must mean...
When he stood up, the world lurched only slightly. He quickly steadied himself and walked to the portrait. Once outside, he was surprised at the emptiness of the castle. He carefully walked down the stairs, trying to keep from losing his balance and falling down them. When he reached the foot of the stairs, he heard someone calling out to him.
"You there!" a witch shouted. "All students are to be in the Great Hall or their common rooms! Unless you're a Slytherin, you'd best head back." Harry stopped where he was. What was going on? The witch was walking toward him at a brisk pace. "You heard me!" she shouted. "Go back to your— Oh, it's you. Are you feeling alright?"
"I'll be fine," Harry replied. "What is going on?"
She walked up to Harry and started explaining quickly. "There was a report of an attack—not here, though—" she added before Harry could run off. "Somewhere in London. Quite a few of the Aurors left, so we're a little shorthanded right now. I haven't seen Dumbledore, so he might have left with them. If you need to speak with him, your best shot might be the Hospital Wing. If there are any survivors, Dumbledore will probably bring them there."
The Auror gave him a nod and then walked off without looking back, leaving him standing in the empty corridor. The Aurors had left to go to St. Mungo's. It wasn't just a solitary attack. They had started another battle. Maybe that meant that Claire's mother was just attacked because Voldemort was tired of waiting. There was still only one way to find out.
Harry walked faster now, running when he had long stretches of hallway to cover. He saw only one other Auror on his way, and only in passing as they crossed paths at the top of the last flight of stairs before he reached the Hospital Wing. He burst into the Hospital Wing and found Madam Pomfrey packing a pile of bottles and vials into a pair of large bags.
"If you're not missing a limb, I don't have time for you, Mr. Potter," she called out as she hefted another bag onto her shoulder from the floor.
"Where are you going?" he asked her frantically. "Where is Claire?"
"No reason to worry about that now," Pomfrey replied. "I'll be back soon enough I'm afraid. The best thing for you to do would be to go the Great Hall. The last thing I need is for you to get attacked by some overworked Auror because you were sneaking about where you didn't belong." She picked up the other two bags and shuffled toward the fireplace, where a bright green fire was blazing. "And don't you try and follow me. The Floo is only open to me, you'll just end up stuck in some broom closet on the third floor."
Before Harry could get another word out, Madam Pomfrey had turned and hopped into the flames. With a last burst of flame, she disappeared leaving Harry alone again. Why shouldn't he worry about Claire? Where was she? Harry hadn't been allowed to see her, but he'd assumed she was in the Hospital Wing. Harry ran from bed to bed, pulling back curtains to reveal rows of empty beds. He stopped after twenty or so beds. Pomfrey wouldn't put her in the main room. Harry ran for the side room where Hermione had been taken the morning Claire had been attacked.
The room was only dimly lit, but there were no curtains between the ten beds spread along the walls. Hermione was gone, but not all the beds were empty. It took him only a few seconds to spot it. Along the back wall sat the only bed in the room without clean, smooth sheets. It was shrouded in shadows and surrounded by half-empty bottles.
Harry ran to it, knowing it had to be Claire. From halfway across the room, he already knew what he would find. As he stepped close to the bed, the torches along the walls flared to life, bathing the room in light. Claire was laid out before him. She wasn't moving, and her face had already taken on a pallid grey color.
She was dead.
Something broke inside Harry. He felt cold and empty. Some part of his spirit was gone, but he didn't know quite what it was. Perhaps it was the last bit of pity he felt for the Death Eaters and their forced servitude of their master. Perhaps it was the last of his fear of facing the dark wizard who would not stop until Harry was dead. And maybe it was the last of his hope that his life might end any other way.
He stood there staring at Claire's face for what could have been minutes. He knew that he'd never be able to forget the look on her face. Her eyes were closed, but her face still looked tense. She'd died in pain.
Harry tried to convince himself that it wasn't his fault. He wasn't the one who'd killed her parents. He hadn't attacked her family, or frightened away her friends. He hadn't put the knife through her back. Still, it happened because he was still there, because he was still defying Lord Voldemort.
They'd all been attacked because of him. What was the point of all of it? It wasn't like Harry didn't know that Voldemort hated him, or that he would never have a normal life so long as Voldemort lived. What was Voldemort hoping to accomplish?
Suddenly something caught Harry's eye. Sitting on one of the tables beside the bed, was the knife Charlie and Bill had given him for his birthday. It was the same knife Claire had been stabbed with, and the same knife that Ginny had hung from when the Death Eaters let her go. And before that, it had been used to kill the look-a-like Voldemort had brought to torment Ginny. Had that been the purpose? Hadn't Voldemort planned for Harry to torture her? Was there something he'd missed?
Ginny had been terrified that Harry would follow her. She'd been trying to keep him safe. Was Voldemort trying to show Harry what he really wanted?
Harry picked up the knife and stared at it. Was it that simple? Was that what Voldemort wanted? If he wanted to lure Harry away from Dumbledore and Hogwarts, why was he hiding? How was Harry supposed to find him? If he would have had any idea where to start, he would have left after they took Ginny. He still had no idea how he was supposed to find Voldemort.
Or did he?
Pince said that there was only one way it would end: the way it was supposed to end two years ago. Harry turned and strode out of the room. The answer had been there all this time. Voldemort had meant for him to see it long ago. Bellatrix had shown him, but he'd been too stupid to see it.
The Aurors seemed to have deserted the halls. They were probably watching the students. Even if they were guarding the common room, they would let Harry pass. Dumbledore was gone, for the moment. If he acted quickly, no one would even know until he was gone.
"You did what?" Ginny shouted at Ron.
"What was I supposed to do? He could barely stand. He'd never have made it out the portrait hole."
"So you left him alone?"
"He told me to find Dumbledore."
"And what good would that do?" Ginny asked. "Do you think that Dumbledore wouldn't know that Death Eaters had attacked St. Mungo's?" Ron didn't reply but gave Ginny a very annoyed look. Ginny gave him an expectant look. "Well? Where is he now?"
"I don't know," Ron replied indignantly. Ginny sighed loudly.
"Check the Map, then, Ron."
Ron rifled through his pockets for a second, then stopped and stared at the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall. "I don't have it. I left it in the Tower."
"Come on, then," Ginny said as she headed for the door. "We're going to go get it."
"I'm coming, too," Hermione announced as she pulled herself to her feet. Ron protested a little, but Hermione ignored him and followed Ginny with only a little unsteadiness in her walk. When Ginny walked through the door, she found Ron running to catch up.
She walked as quickly as Hermione could follow, hoping that Harry would be sitting just where Ron had left him, and fearing that she would not. The Auror at the door to the Great Hall had seen the look on Ginny's face, and still trusted the D.A. enough to allow Ron and two of the Council members to leave if they wished. Ginny was counting on the fact that any other Auror would make a similar decision.
When she reached the Gryffindor common room, there was no Auror standing guard at the portrait.
"Where is Harry?" Ginny asked the Fat Lady. "Has he left the tower?"
"I'm afraid the Headmaster has forbidden me to talk about Mr. Potter's whereabouts," the Fat Lady replied. "If you want to know, you'd best look for yourself."
Ginny gave the password and leapt into the common room. It was completely empty. She searched for any sign that Harry had been there, but only found the chess board.
"You got him to play chess with you?" Hermione asked from a chair. Ron nodded and explained that he'd just wanted to pass the time. "It wasn't that good of a game. I think we were both a bit distracted. We were right in the middle of the game when Harry told me to go find Dumbledore."
"You must have been distracted if you thought it was the middle of the game," Hermione said as she pointed at the board. Ginny turned to see what she was talking about. Pieces were spread across the board, in a sparse pattern. Harry usually played the white side. and his pieces seemed to be in more disarray than Ron's. Most importantly, his king was lying on its side between a pawn and a rook.
Ron stared at the board in confusion. "Must have been knocked over when he stood up," he said. "Harry never resigns. He always plays until the end."
Ginny got a bad feeling looking at the board. "Ron. We need to find the Map. Now."
Ron and Ginny ran up the stairs to the sixth year boys dormitory, leaving Hermione behind them to climb the stairs as quickly as she could. When the reached the room, Ron stopped by his bed. "What's this doing here?" He held up Harry's Firebolt, which had been lying on Ron's bed.
"Figure it out, Ron!" Ginny shouted. "Where is the Map?"
"In the trunk. Under my Quidditch stuff," he replied as he stared at the broom.
Ginny threw open Ron's trunk and started rummaging for the Map. She pulled it out a second later and scanned it for Harry's dot. "Found him!" she called out as Hermione walked into the room. He's on the stairs going down into the Entrance Hall. "He's probably going to go find us."
"Er... Ginny," Ron said, "I think you ought to look at this."
Ginny turned to glare at Ron, but stopped when she saw Hermione almost shaking with fear as she stared at something in Harry's bed. She walked over to get a better look and felt her heart stop.
Carved into the headboard of Harry's bed was a set of deep cuts which formed the shape of a lightning bolt. Beside it, the knife used to make the cuts, the one he got on his birthday, was stuck deeply into the wood.
Ginny jerked the Map open again and searched for Harry. He was in the Trophy Room and walking toward the far end. What was he doing there? As he reached the end of the room, his dot stopped briefly before vanishing completely.
Ginny let out a yelp and dropped the map. Harry disappeared. He was gone. How had he just disappeared? Suddenly, she remembered what was at the far end of the Trophy Room: the Triwizard Tournament Cup. Harry had left to face Voldemort. She turned and ran for the door. She had no idea what she could do, but running and screaming seemed as good as anything else. As she reached the door, she found it blocked by a number of wizards.
"Is something wrong, Miss Weasley?" Dumbledore asked her in a gentle voice. "I was hoping to find Harry."
"He's gone," she told him. "He... disappeared. I think the Triwizard Cup was a Portkey." Her voice sounded empty and hollow in her own ears. She expected Dumbledore to turn and run out of the room, or to start shouting orders to the Aurors behind him, but he merely looked thoughtful for a moment and then slowly walked to Harry's bed.
"What are we going to do?" she asked.
Dumbledore leaned close to the knife stuck in the headboard, studying it as if it might tell him something. "We can only wait."
"We're not going to do anything?"
"That is not what I said, Ginny," answered Dumbledore. "I said we were going to wait. What other course of action would you suggest?"
"He went to find Voldemort, right?" Hermione asked. "Do we have any idea where he might be?"
"Somewhere in northern Scotland, I'd wager," Dumbledore said calmly as he ran his finger over the mark in the headboard. "We didn't expect they'd be using Portkeys however, so in theory, there is no limit to how far away they might truly be. My instincts tell me that they are not so far away that we could not find them, but far enough that we would not."
A cold anger swept up Ginny's spine. She glared at the headmaster, no longer caring who he was. "So you're just going to sit here and wait for Voldemort to announce Harry's death? You've stood by him all this time, and at the moment he needs you most, you're just going to sit and wait? You're not even going to try?"
Dumbledore turned to face Ginny. It might have made her feel better if he'd been angry with her. Or even if he'd looked sad. Instead, the calm acceptance she saw on his face just felled her anger even more.
"That outcome is not certain," he said quietly, "and this confrontation could not be avoided. I'm certain that you know that as well as Harry does. I had hoped to delay it as long as prudence would allow, but there is nothing I could have done to prevent it from happening. I am told I am an old and powerful wizard. I have been known to toy with time on occasion—" he said, pausing to wink at Hermione "—and I know some tricks even Voldemort hasn't discovered, but I cannot twist fate, and I cannot redirect the path laid before Harry."
"You're giving up, just like him," Ginny said. An icy wave of fear hit her as she remembered the chess board downstairs. Harry had given up. He'd left, thinking he'd already lost and that facing Voldemort was the only thing left to do. "No..." she said out loud. "No, you've got to stop him. He's not going to fight. He thinks he already lost!" She turned to look at Ron and Hermione who were sitting on Ron's bed. Hermione was crying.
"I do not believe that Harry will surrender once he comes face to face with Tom Riddle. I do not think it is something he is even capable of."
"You have to try!" Ginny shouted desperately.
"Any attempt would be doomed to fail, Ginny. Harry is our only chance of defeating Voldemort. He alone has the ability to accomplish the ultimate goal that so many have worked and died for. We must give him that one chance to end all of this suffering."
"How long will it be before we know?" Ron asked shakily.
"No one can be certain," Dumbledore answered. "Though I expect we will find out tonight if Voldemort still exists. The attack at St. Mungo's was only the start. There will be more, and soon if he is not stopped."
Ron and Dumbledore kept talking but Ginny didn't hear them over the ringing in her ears. Dumbledore wasn't listening. He didn't know Harry like she did. Even if Harry didn't surrender, he had no chance of defeating Tom. In his mind, he'd already lost.
Why did he have to go alone? Why didn't he take Dumbledore with him? If he had to face Voldemort, why not wait and bring the Order? She stared at the mark carved into Harry's headboard, trying to understand what had made Harry leave? Certainly Claire's death was part of it, but many people had died that day, and many had died before.
There was, perhaps, only one answer. He must have just learned the Triwizard Cup was a Portkey. With the deaths of Claire and everyone else at St. Mungo's he must have just decided to leave before anyone returned to stop him. Ginny turned back to find everyone filing out of the room. They were all giving up. They were just going to sit around and wait.
Harry was right. As she walked down the stairs, she remembered what he'd said the morning before Hermione had been attacked. There never really had been any hope. Harry had simply done what Ginny had always wanted him to. Instead of hiding and waiting like Dumbledore was going to do, he was going to face danger and fight, even if there was no hope. He'd given up on the game, now it was time to finish the war.
Everyone seemed to be walking with purpose. Dumbledore was probably calling a meeting of the Order. Ginny quietly asked Hermione and she confirmed that a meeting had been called, and they were all going to the Room of Requirement, where everyone was assembling.
The thought of simply sitting around and waiting made her want to scream. Harry had been gone for only a few minutes and it was already unbearable. As they all neared the Room of Requirements, she knew what she had to do. She could never wait. She had to find him. She had to at least look. Dumbledore said Tom was probably nearby, but he wasn't even willing to try looking.
When they reached the door, they found Lupin waiting for them. As he ushered everyone in, Ginny stopped. "I should go get the Map," she declared as she turned and walked off as quickly as she could, hoping Lupin wouldn't know to stop her. When she turned the corner, she broke into a run. She had to get back to the Tower.
She burst into her dormitory minutes later, and tossed clothes wildly from her trunk until she found a heavier cloak to wear. It had been warm that afternoon, but the sun was going down soon and it would be cold flying when the clouds formed. Ginny grabbed her broom but frowned at it. Maybe she should take Harry's Firebolt? She needed it more than Ron. She tossed the broom back on her bed and ran to Harry's dormitory.
She grabbed the Firebolt from Ron's bed. It was the faster broom, of course. She could cover more ground. She looked at the window by Harry's bed. If she could break it, she could leave immediately. She ran to it, pulled out her wand, but stopped as she looked at the sky. It was darker than she remembered it. How much time had passed? Ten minutes? The attack in the Department of Mysteries had only lasted fifteen minutes. Even if she left now, there was no chance of her finding Harry in time.
She screamed out of fear and anger. She had promised to help Harry, and now he'd left her and made sure there was no way for her to follow. She threw the Firebolt back where it had been, leaving a small dent in Ron's headboard. She wanted to scream again, but her throat was tight and dry. She felt large hot tears rolling down her cheeks. He'd left her, and now they were both alone.
Harry would die alone, she thought as she collapsed onto his bed. She wouldn't of course. Pince was right. Tom would know what she did. He would take pleasure in knowing that he was keeping them apart. Eventually he might make a mistake and kill her, but it would take quite some time for that to happen. Maybe if she pretended to give herself up again, she could get one of the Death Eaters to kill her.
Through her tears, it seemed like a good enough plan. She would go wait by the tree again. Maybe some of the Death Eaters were still there. Or maybe they would come back after Harry was dead. Ginny paused. It was actually a pretty good plan. The Death Eaters had Portkeys. They probably went the same place Harry had gone. She just had to find one.
Wiping away her tears, she pulled he cloak tight around her. With the Order meeting and the students still in the Great Hall, she should be able to leave easily. The only question was whether she would find anything. Pince had meant to leave. If she was leaving, then the other Death Eaters might have already gone, too. Still, it was worth—
Ginny gave a quick shriek as she stumbled across the answer. Had anyone remembered? It was probably still there. They'd all been so worried about Claire that no one had even thought about it.
She'd need something to get the door open. The Aurors had sealed it until Dumbledore had time to check the room. She looked about the room, and found something that would work. With her heart pounding in her chest, she wrapped her hands around the handle of the knife, and pulled as hard as she could. To her surprise, it slid out easily. She stared at the mark Harry had left. It had always been the symbol of his exile, his loneliness, and everything bad that had ever happened to him. As she stared at it, she felt a white hot anger replacing the despair. She'd join him. She'd fight. He wouldn't do it alone. It would be one last surprise for Tom, and if they failed, they'd fail together.
She ran as fast as she could. It hadn't been long, but every minute counted now. The corridors were empty, and she took the fastest route she knew. Finally she saw her goal.
The door to the library was shut, and a metal bar embedded in the stone archway looped around the handle , preventing anyone from opening the door. Ginny pulled out the knife and grasped it tightly. She pushed the knife into the first part of the bar. It took all the strength she had, but the knife finally cut through the metal and sent a sharp, metallic ring echoing down the hallway.
She put the knife to the second half of the loop and pressed as hard as she could. The metal bent and groaned as the knife made its way through the metal, but stopped about halfway through. She wrenched the knife free, expecting to see a dull notch in the blade. Instead, it was perfectly sharp. Her arm, however, was shaking from the strain. She tried to breathe and get ready for a second try.
"Hey there!" someone called out from behind her. "That door's sealed for a reason, you know!" It was an Auror. Ginny ignored him and immediately put the knife back in the notch.
"What are you doing?" the Auror called. He was running toward her now. "That room's out of bounds! Dumbledore hasn't checked it!" he shouted.
With a shout, Ginny put all her weight onto the knife and was rewarded by a dangerous sounding snap and the sound of the metal loop ringing off the stone floor. She threw her weight against the door and it slowly opened. When it was open just a foot, she slipped through and ran for Pince's desk.
Without a sheath, she was forced to wrap the knife in one of Harry's old shirts. She stuffed it into her pocket and pulled out her wand. The Auror's footsteps were growing louder; she didn't have much time. She looked at the table in the dim light, trying to remember where it was.
"Finite Incantatem!"
Nothing happened. It still had to be here. No one had any time to remove it. It simply had to be there.
"Finite Incantatem!" she shouted again, aiming at a different area of the desk. With a crash, the Auror threw open the Library door.
"Stop!" he shouted. "This room isn't safe. Leave— Hold on. Didn't you hear? Dumbledore's called a meeting."
Ginny ignored him again. Laying on its side beside a stack of books was a small golden cup, an exact miniature of the Triwizard Cup. She reached for it, pausing to take a few deep breaths. Who knows where she would appear when she touched it.
"Hey there, what's that?" the Auror said as he walked toward her.
"Sorry," Ginny said sincerely. Her hand closed around the cup, and she felt the familiar sensation of being pulled stomach-first into empty blackness.
The Room of Requirements was quickly filling with people. It wasn't just the Order of the Phoenix, now, but many of the senior Aurors. Of course, after what the Aurors had seen, many of them might indeed have chosen to join the Order.
Hermione had immediately taken a seat. She felt much better than she had that morning, but something told her that night would be a long one, and she didn't want to be stuck stumbling after people as they walked about the castle.
Dumbledore was standing in the center of the room talking to three people at once. Ron was talking with Bill and Charlie. Fred and George had just arrived. They'd been forced to conjure more chairs to sit in and Lupin was still letting more people into the room.
When she found Ron again, he was walking toward her with his brothers. They sat down, and Ron reluctantly took a seat next to her. Bill and Charlie both greeted her warmly despite the circumstances.
"Where is Ginny?" Bill asked as he craned his neck over the crowd. "I can't imagine she's taking this well."
"I don't think she is," Hermione replied. "The last I saw of her she was talking to Lupin outside the door. She probably doesn't want everyone pitying her."
"That's fair, I guess," Bill said. "Still, I think I'll see how she's doing."
Hermione sat in a awkward silence with Ron and Charlie. Charlie seemed to sense something was wrong between them, but thankfully didn't ask. It was the last thing Hermione wanted to think of at the time. She just wanted the meeting to start so someone could explain what was going to be happening. She heard the door close, and watched as Lupin and Bill walked quickly toward her. They looked worried.
"Hermione, do you know where Ginny was going?" Lupin asked quickly.
"Er... no. I thought she was with you."
"No, she told me that she was going back to fetch the Map. She left ten minutes ago."
"Maybe she's just didn't want to be at the meeting?" Hermione said. "I don't think she's very pleased with Dumbledore, and... well, Harry's gone."
"I'm going to go check on her," Bill announced. He turned and started walking off. "I'll go with you," Ron said as he stood up and followed. Lupin turned to walk with them, leaving Charlie there in case Ginny would return. Ron opened the door and paused. He looked back at Hermione. "Well? Aren't you coming?" Hermione took a deep breath, stood and walked quickly to the door. She could make it to the Tower and back. She'd done it once already.
"Bill? Remus?" Dumbledore called as the walked out the door. Lupin stopped to hear what Dumbledore had to say.
"Is there a problem?" Dumbledore asked from the center of the room.
"Probably not," Lupin replied. "Ginny Weasley left and hasn't returned."
From just outside the door, Hermione could see the look on Dumbledore's face. Within seconds he was at the door and leading the way back to Gryffindor Tower. Hermione tried to keep up as best she could, but she'd fallen behind eventually. Ron stayed with her and as they watched Dumbledore enter the common room, Arthur and Molly Weasley passed them.
Everyone was making their way up the stairs by the time Ron and Hermione got to the common room. Molly was climbing the stairs to the girls' dormitories, but everyone else was headed to the boys' dormitories. Hermione followed them, not wanting to have to walk up the stairs alone.
She knew before they reached the room that Ginny wasn't there. It was completely silent in the room. As she stepped into the room, she could feel the tension. Arthur was pacing along the far wall where Harry had liked to look out of the window. Lupin and Bill were sitting on Ron's bed staring at the floor.
"The Map, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said with obvious urgency. "Where is it?"
Ron stepped around Hermione and threw open his trunk. While he rummaged through his trunk, she saw the reason for everyone's concern. All she could do was stare. Whatever it meant, she was certain that it wasn't good. Ron finally pulled the Map out of his trunk and held it out for Dumbledore.
"Accio Map!" Lupin shouted. The Map jumped from Ron's finger and sailed toward Lupin, who caught it deftly. "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good," he said as he tapped it with his wand. He started scanning the map quickly, while everyone waited.
"What does that mean?" Bill asked as he pointed at the headboard of Harry's bed. There was a deep notch where the knife had been, next to it was the lightning bolt Harry had carved into the wood, and around the lightning bolt, someone else had carved the rough shape of a heart.
"I do not know," Dumbledore answered, "But I fear it may mean that Ginny has left to do something terribly dangerous."
"She's in the library with one of the Aurors, His name is Martins," Lupin announced. "I don't even know how they got in there. The Aurors locked the door." Dumbledore didn't say anything, he just stared at the map. "Is there any way for us to tell Martins to stay with her?" Lupin asked.
"She's not in her dormitory," Molly panted as she walked into the room, holding her side. "I see she's not here, either."
"I'm afraid she's left the castle, Molly," Dumbledore said as he dropped the Map on Harry's trunk.
"No, I just saw her in the Library," Lupin said as he grabbed the Map.
Arthur stopped pacing and stared at Dumbledore. "What do you mean, she's left?"
"He means that she's gone," Lupin said flatly as he stared at the map. "She was just here, in the Library, and now she's gone. It's just Martins now."
"Well, she can't Apparate," Molly said as she squinted at the headboard. "Is that Harry's bed? What's that he carved into it?"
Dumbledore sat down on Harry's bed, and stared out the window. "If I had to guess—" Dumbledore started, sounding even more tired than Hermione felt, "I would guess that it is a message, telling us why Harry and Ginny have both left."
"But how did Ginny leave?" Lupin asked, still giving the Map confused looks.
"Beyond Harry and Ginny, I would guess the castle is missing three more things. One is the Triwizard Cup, the Portkey that Harry took to face Voldemort. Another is the knife which was, earlier tonight, stuck deeply in that headboard, and was used more recently to open the library door."
"The last object would be a small golden trophy, a miniature copy of the Triwizard Cup," Dumbledore said as he looked at Lupin. "It disappeared yesterday, enraging our former librarian. I am nearly certain that it was recovered by the only person who remembered its existence or knew what had become of it."
"Ginny... but why?" Molly choked.
"I would guess that she believes she might be able to somehow affect Harry's fate."
"What can we do?" Arthur asked heavily. "Is there anything that can be done?"
"Perhaps nothing," Dumbledore replied, "but there is nothing to be lost if we try. It is very possible that she did not travel to the same destination that Harry did, and if so, we may find her before the Death Eaters. We'll send out the Aurors —all who are willing to go— and hope that they might find something."
His voice sounded encouraging, but when Hermione looked into his eyes she saw the same despair and defeat everyone else seemed to feel. She felt empty and hopeless. In her heart, she knew that their reactions were correct. It was too soon. Harry didn't have a chance, and if Voldemort found Ginny, she would only be used against him.
The others slowly walked out of the room, leaving her and Ron alone. He was sitting on the edge of the bed with his face buried in his hands. Slowly he pushed off the bandages on his head and threw them to the ground.
"So that's it, then?" he said as he stared at the bandages. "How long do you suppose we'll have to wait?"
Hermione collapsed onto the bed. "I don't expect it will matter," she replied. "It'll probably be much shorter than we'd like." She tried to swallow, but found it harder than it should have been. "Why'd he have to go?" she asked. "Why... why now? Why couldn't he—" She tried to finish, but her throat caught as the first sobs escaped her mouth.
Finally, like everyone else, Hermione gave up. Ron wiped away her tears, but they kept coming. She and Ron should be with him. They always had been. In her heart, she already knew what was coming. Lord Voldemort hated Mudbloods, and he would hate her above all the others.
Author's Notes:
I know everyone was looking forward to Harry getting together with his friends, having all of them stand in a circle with their fists together and shout "Go, Planet!" before running off and kicking the tar out of Voldemort.Instead, you got Harry blinking off to meet Voldemort, and Ginny teleporting herself off to hope she can find him.
I can understand if some of you are disappointed.
But really, I could have made it worse. Right? I'm not sure exactly how I would have done that, but I assume I could have. At least he's going off to fight instead of hiding in some closet. Sure, he's alone and depressed, and probably thinking that he can't possibly win, but at least he's taken responsibility for his future, right?
I'll give out one last teaser (I expect it to be the last):
It was impossible to tell just how large the hall was, but a large hole in the ceiling above it let in a shaft of sickly green light that illuminated a single table in its center. Harry walked forward warily, curious about a large object set on the table. As he neared it, he noticed that it was a book, laying on its front cover. He reluctantly turned it over to look at its title.
A Study of Permanent Magical Maladies.
Harry's hand jerked back as if he'd been scalded. As he backed away, the room filled with a high-pitched hissing laughter.
"Such a useful book," Voldemort laughed as he stepped from the shadows on Harry's left. "And quite rare. I was quite pleased that Pince was willing to get it for me." He laughed again as he picked up the book and casually leafed through the pages. "Dumbledore thought he was the only one with spies, and all that time, he ignored her, the only one left who understood her ancestry and how important that is."
Now, there are a couple important things to remember about the ending. Well, I guess for now there is only one important thing to remember: This chapter used to be the ending. There was nothing after it. That was the end.
So, as you read the ending, remember that no matter what you think, it could have been much, much worse.
I think that's the best way to prepare you for now.