The Distance to Here
A/N: I just had a thought. Instead of just emailing, I'm going to post another full chapter in a record of 1 day. This way I'll be able to satisfy everyone, and make up for the abomination that was the two weeks of waiting. Sorry again, and I hope you like this. Only one person so far has been right in their guesses….let's see who it is!!!
Chapter 16
Ginny was scared. Her captor was not relenting. He was silent and did not loosen his grip, and his hand was pressed uncompromisingly over her mouth, although Ginny was firmly asserting her strength. She was kicking, biting, shouting muffled obscenities into the warmth of his palm. And although he was unrelenting, iron hard in his resolution and his grip, he didn't retaliate. He simply held on with silent steadfastness. And that, more than anything, made Ginny's brain flick from the panic mode to cool-headedness. She stopped struggling and began to look around her.
Her captor was taking her along the lane that led to the tail end of the village, where shabby and degenerated cabins with chipping paint stood desolately in overgrown yards. It was at this point that Ginny noticed that she could freely see all around her. Her eyes weren't covered. This relaxed her even more, because although she did not have a lot of experience with kidnapping in general, she knew it would be much easier to keep a captor hidden when he didn't know exactly where he was being held. Whoever had her was either not very bright, or not very concerned.
They marched further along, him pushing her at a brisk pace. Her head kept crashing into his chest as they sought in vain to fall into rhythm with one another, yet he made no sound, and made no indication that he noticed it at all. It was then that she realized where he was taking her.
The Shrieking Shack was intimidating enough in broad daylight, with it's cracking boards, banging shutters, and creepily ethereal once-white curtains, battered with time and Mother Nature. All of the local folk assumed it was haunted, and it had been Ron who told her of Lupin and The Marauders, and the true history of the Shack. Ginny had thought that she and the Rebels were the only ones who knew about that it was only an urban legend, but apparently Voldemort's reach of knowledge was greater than she imagined.
If the body pressed against her hadn't been hard and tensed with muscle, Ginny would have been convinced it was either Crabbe or Goyle. They were both stupid enough not to disarm her or to bind her magically, and also to leave her with complete visibility. As it was, the man behind her was neither fat, nor smelled constantly of some sort of pork product, so it couldn't be either of the two. Ginny was confused.
She stumbled over the roots and uneven mounds of dirt that lay across the lawn in front of the shack, which grew more intimidating the closer she approached. The man behind her never faltered, picking her up and placing her upright again almost as though she were a troublesome toddler who has had enough during a day of shopping, and spontaneously lies down, refusing to go any further. But Ginny was pinioned too tightly to either lie down or refuse to go any further. The man would probably just carry her.
Nudging the front door open, both captor and captive entered the Shrieking Shack. It was pitch black and silent, and only their breathing could be heard amid the deafening quiet that surrounded them. Ginny tried to be quiet. To her surprise, the man holding her let go and stood at the door, pushing it closed behind him and standing as a barricade between her and the only exit. Before she could run up the staircase to her left, he took out his wand and said, "Lumos." That voice was very familiar. In fact, it sounded a lot like-
"- Harry Potter!" Ginny cried out in vexation. "What the bloody fucking hell are you trying to pull?"
Despite himself, and the possible gravity of the situation, Harry couldn't help himself. He laughed. "You've got strong legs, there, Weasley," he said, through his chuckles. "You damn near tore some chunks out of my leg.
"You deserve it, you bastard," she retorted, without vehemence. She was beginning to see the humour of the situation. "Next time, send me an owl or something."
"I can't anymore. I know what Lucius said to you in the Hog's Head. I was in there, in my Invisibility Cloak, keeping an eye on you and getting my share of information from other conversations in that pub. We can't meet anymore unless it's at the old Headquarters, or somewhere that's completely deserted. And I didn't want you recognizing me and getting found out, especially with Lucius in such close proximity. Sorry," he added sheepishly.
"Why can't we just meet at Headquarters?" Ginny asked, partly knowing and partly fearing the answer. Harry sighed.
"Ginny, I can't stop thinking about you. About the night of the fire. Every time…I try to think about the people who died, about Cho, who might have died, we don't know yet…but I can't. Every time I think of the flames, they just melt away and you're there in their place. I know Cho and I have a long history, but so do you and I. If you don't want this, tell me. But don't think I haven't felt this for a long time, that I don't want it, too."
Ginny looked into his green eyes, the light of the wand tip gleaming in their center, and she thought of James and Lily Potter, who had died defending their child, who had died in love, and died together.
Then she grabbed him.
An hour later, Ginny giggled softly as she detached herself from Harry. "What?" he asked her, grinning indulgently.
"There's two things," she replied, still tittering. "The first one was that when you were dragging me along that path and I was in fear for my life, I kept thinking that the guy who was kidnapping me had a great body." Harry kissed her on the nose, where her freckles made an arcing path across its bridge and her cheeks, and nodded.
"It comes with the job, aren't you lucky," he said cheekily. "What's the other thing?" he prodded.
"I'm glad we didn't meet at Headquarters," she said winking, and he laughed as she pulled his head down to kiss her again.
It's safe to say that on the whole, everyone was happier that Harry and Ginny did not show up unexpectedly. They had found their happiness for the moment, and the only world that existed for them was inside the Shrieking Shack. The same was true for Hermione and Draco, who found solace together in the quiet and comfort of Draco's room, and more specifically, his four-poster.
"Mmm," Hermione murmured as she buried her face in Draco's chest. She was asleep, completely comforted in Draco's warmth and strength. At last they understood each other. Amid the chaos of the war around them, in the middle of this conflict, they rested in a bubble, perfectly content and safe.
Draco stayed awake. Try as he might, he could not relax. He had wanted her. He still did, and he looked at her now with such affection that he knew in his heart that it was not a conquest- although at times he had felt as though he were fighting a battle. He was apprehensive. She was innocent, compared to him. Though she was an Auror and Harry Potter's friend, she still knew almost nothing of the evil that people were capable of. He had been on that side, and knew what was in store for those who didn't support Voldemort in the coming months.
He mused, and stroked Hermione's shoulder, tracing his hand down her arm to her waist, and gathered her close to him. Would this be enough? Would their mutual trust, respect, and chemistry be enough to withstand the cunning, guile and wrath of Voldemort and his father? He hoped to god it would. For all of his speeches in the kitchen about the eternity of complication, part of him desperately wished for simplicity.
Hermione was walking with Draco, hand in hand. They were in Scotland, wandering among the heather in between the rocky craigs and lush, rolling hills. She spotted a high peak, green and breathtaking.
"Come on," she said, grabbing his hand. "Let's climb it, the view will be beautiful."
He resisted. "It'll be too hard," he protested.
"Nothing's too hard, Malfoy."
They climbed to the top, at times Draco protested, at times Hermione wanted to quit. The further they climbed, the more clouds began to migrate in their direction.
"Don't like the weather, just wait five minutes," Hermione laughed, caution and inhibition taken away by the crisp Highland air. Draco laughed, too.
They reached the top. The clouds darkened as they stood at the peak of the hill. They began to dance, slowly, arms wrapped around each other.
Suddenly, lightning struck. Hermione was lying on the ground, eyes wide and staring. She could see straight in front of her, but she couldn't move her eyes, or any part of her body. Draco was yelling, staring down at her, speaking to her frantically and asking if she was okay. She tried to comfort him, to tell him she was okay, that they were young and beautiful and exhilarated. She wanted to tell him that they were at the peak of the mountain, but she was frozen.
Well, there you have it. ONE DAY. If you read this, please review it, because a girl whose fic I read, bluebottlebutterfly is her name, (read her fics) had a 20 chapter story that had 1706 reviews. And I have a measly 74. Ok, so I'm less consistent. But I'm giving you a long, good chapter with romance etc. so I expect some review lovin'! My aim is 90. Please?