Disclaimer: If I were Jo Rowling, I wouldn't have to take five exams next week.
A/N: Ok, ya'll, I am SO SORRY. The amount of time between this and the last chapter is absolutely ridiculus. I APOLOGIZE, up and down, I truly feel really bad about it. And to make it up to you, I hope to have chapter seven up in the next 3-4 days. Pinky swear. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's really more of a transitional thing, but I think it has its moments. :). Please review! Again, REALLY sorry for the long wait.
Something was pulling her. Slowly but surely she was being sucked through the endless whirlpool of the tunnel. She tried to resist, but found she couldn't. The dark void was closing around her, the invisible walls reaching out and squeezing her lungs in an iron grip. Struggling wildly but to no success, she finally submitted to the overwhelming pressure.
Sluggishly, Ginny regained consciousness. Her heavy eyelids fluttered pointlessly, but she didn't have the energy to fully open them. It was very warm. She vaguely began to notice something on her face, a gentle, brushing motion. Someone was stroking her forehead. The hands were large, and callused. Male hands.
"Harry?" she whispered confusedly.
"She spoke!" someone whispered loudly, sounding vastly relieved, "Fred! Neville! She spoke!" It wasn't Harry's voice. Determined to solve the mystery, she forced herself to wrench her eyelids apart.
Ginger hair, curled around an anxious face materialized above her.
"George?" she croaked, her voice hoarse from lack of use. Her brother made a choking noise and scooped her up in a viscous hug, crushing her against him. She was somewhat surprised; her brothers weren't the type to convey their emotions, particularly physically. They were firm believers in sibling cooties.
"What—what're you—what happened?" She realized that she was in the hospital wing, the spotless white surrounding her made it rather evident, and she knew that something horrible must of happened—vague memories of dark figures and searing pain flashed across her mind—but she felt she deserved some details.
"George! Tell me what happened!"
"Forge, our dear sister is obviously alright; she is recovering her Weasley temper astonishingly quick." Ginny scowled at Fred, but secretly she was relieved that he had said what he had, for George promptly returned to normal, dropping her unceremoniously onto the bed.
"I find it equally shocking, Gred. I mean, it's not like we've been worrying about her for the last six hours, is it?"
"Absolutely not. If we had, of course, then she might consider showering us with praise and generosity, but since that is not the case then we really do deserve her wounding response."
"It did wound me, Fred. Right here." He gestured dramatically at his chest.
"Would you two shut up and tell me what happened?" Ginny snapped, but she was smiling. She saw someone lean towards her out of the corner of her eye and realized it was Neville.
"You were attacked," he said slowly, "right in front of the Fat Lady. She saw the whole thing, and started yelling…it woke up the whole castle, practically."
"By who?"
"Well," he looked rather uncomfortable, "we…don't really know quite yet, actually…"
"What do you mean you don't know! You just mentioned that the Fat Lady witnessed the whole incident, didn't she—?"
"That's the problem. She saw you, but she couldn't see the attacker. She said they may have been disillusioned."
"They can't have been disillusioned; he looked pretty solid to me! He was a huge bloke, probably around the size of Malfoy's old crony, Grabbe or Coyle or whatever…wait a second…you don't think…surely not…but then, they can't have…" she trailed off. To do something as complex as stalking and attacking someone after curfew at Hogwarts without getting caught required, at minimum, the intelligence of a ferret, and since the blonde one had gone missing, it was highly doubtful that the pathetic excuses for civilized people known as Crabbe and Goyle could generate such a feat independently. Still, though…they probably weren't happy that Malfoy was gone…and Ginny was definitely the person most associated with 'Potty, Weasel, and the Bushy-Haired, Buck-Toothed Mudblood' left in all of Hogwarts…
"Brother! Our little brother's lover is rubbing off on our dear baby sister!" Fred was looking horrified.
"Muttering nonsense, arguing with herself, getting frustrated when we don't understand the complex workings of her mind, attempting to solve world hunger and achieve universal peace with only herself and few books at her disposal…" George ticked the list on his fingers, "By George—Fred! She's turning into Hermione!" he looked severely alarmed.
"Shove it, you two. I'm not trying to solve world hunger, and neither is Hermione—is she?"
"Nah, I think she's got her hands full with achieving world peace, searching for those hor—"
"HORRIBLE war going on, isn't it?" George cut his twin off, glaring at him and hissing "I've always known I was the smarter half, but could you be any thicker? We can't talk about things like that in the bloody public!" Harry had explained his mission to the Weasley family only, mainly so that they would understand the importance of allowing Ron and Hermione to accompany him. He had requested them to withhold the information in the strictest confidence, and reminded them how ghastly the consequences would be if anyone realized what the three of them were searching for.
"Sorry! Sorry, keep your pants on! Nobody heard!" Neville made a huffing sound and the three of them gazed in his direction.
"Oh, don't mind me," he said sadly, "I'm used to having no clue what's going on, and no one ever bothering to fill me in. I've been Harry's friend for seven years now, you know."
"Neville! It's not that we don't want to tell you…it's just that…we…er…" Thankfully she was saved from responding by Madame Pomfrey bustling out of her office.
"Shoo! All three of you! She needs rest!"
"Aw, but Madame Pomfrey…"
"She's our sister!"
"We've been worrying all night!"
"Well, that's really too bad, but what your sister needs is peace and quiet, which I'm quite sure neither of you will be able to offer." The twins continued to grumble, but together with Neville they left the hospital wing, but not before Neville whispered:
"Get better, Gin. I'm going to have a meeting tonight."
She nodded, and watched the three of them leave. She appreciated them visiting her, but it was somewhat depressing knowing that, in different circumstances, it would be three other people crowding around her bed, making sure she was all right…hands besides her brother's brushing her hair from her face…
"Miss Weasley, the Headmistress is here to see you."
Professor McGonagall shut the door quietly behind her and slowly walked towards the bed.
"I'm sorry to bother you when you obviously need rest, Weasley," She said as she pulled the chair previously occupied by Neville towards her and sat down, "but I need to speak with you. But first…Poppy?"
"Yes?" responded the nurse, who was still busying herself with dusting a bedside table nearby.
"Would you mind if I had a private word with Miss Weasley?"
"Not a bit. Keep in mind she has to take her potions in about fifteen minutes though, Professor."
"Of course." Madame Pomfrey bustled into her office, closing the door behind her.
"How are you feeling?" McGonagall asked concernedly, peering closely at Ginny's as though trying to detect signs of illness, weakness, or any other defect.
"Fine…" Ginny muttered, somewhat thrown by this uncharacteristic display of anxiety. McGonagall threw Ginny a look that said quite plainly 'I don't believe you', but she let Ginny's response stand and continued speaking.
"Your parents were here earlier," she said in a low voice, "and they both agree with me. We don't think you should stay here, at least for the time being."
"Stay—here? What?"
"At Hogwarts. Obviously there's someone within these walls that has an intent to harm you. We—your parents and I—have decided to…remove you to a safer place." She glanced around as though a Death Eater might be waiting in line to get a flu shot before continuing, "We…there's a place in London we think might be suitable for the time being." She peered sternly at Ginny over the top of her square-rimmed glasses, and Ginny knew that 'a place in London' translated to 'Grimmauld Place'.
"Well, I mean, not that I have a problem with that or anything, but—what about school?"
"We have made temporary arrangements for that; I will explain further when we arrive at the destination. Rest assured, however, that you will return to Hogwarts, most likely later in the term. Now, your things are currently being packed by several house-elves—Dobby seemed particularly eager to help—and in around an hour someone will arrive to escort you to London. Any questions?"
"Yes. Will my parents be there?" Ginny wasn't to keen on the idea of being alone in the dark atmosphere of Grimmauld Place. She recalled Sirius haunting the hallways, shadows beneath his eyes and a scowl ever present…it was Grimmauld Place that led him to his death.
"For a short time, yes, but your father is rather busy and your mother…I'm sure she'll explain it to you. I do hope your feeling better, Weasley, now sleep a little before you have to leave." And on that confusing note, McGonagall left the infirmary. Before Ginny could even digest what she had been told, Madame Pomfrey had bustled in and forced a sleeping draught down her throat, and Ginny slipped off into a comfortable sleep.
I have a lovely weekend of priming cabinets and drawers to look forward too, but if you review, I promise that even the most daunting, scary, dirty, dusty, cabinet will look inviting. So please, drop aline!