"Harry?" Ginny breathed. "What... who...?"
The apparition chuckled. "I guess I'm going to have to get used to that. No, I'm not Harry. I'm James. Well, a memory of James." Ginny smiled nervously. "Right... James... how on earth...?"
"I'm terribly sorry to have to bring this up, but it may help you understand better. Do you remember Tom Riddle's diary from your first year?"
How did he know? Ginny thought. "Yes," she said, her mouth becoming extremely dry. "Well," James continued, "this is similar, but not exactly how that was. I'm transparent, as he was not." Ginny examined the ghostly figure. Sure enough, she could see the bathroom door right through him. He wasn't pearly white, as the ghosts at Hogwarts were, but rather a light shade of blue-gray, distorting objects behind him. "Right," Ginny mumbled. "So... what are you doing here? I mean, how are you here? How did Ivy find you? And why is it -"
"Slow down, slow down. You want to know everything at once, but I'm not sure that would do you any good. At least my Lily found that out on occasion." He smiled. "Well, your first question; I am here because my son found me before he was taken. The doll in which I preserved myself activates itself when touched by a blood-relative of myself. This is why when you touch it I do not automatically emerge. With me so far?" Ginny paused. "I suppose... but whenever I did touch it, I felt Harry, which is why I assumed you were him. Along with your identical features." James laughed again. "You're lucky to have such an intelligent husband, Ginny."
"Why?" Ginny asked, being thrown off by his last comment. "Well, for one thing, having a dolt for a husband wouldn't be so useful, would it? But most importantly, he made sure part of him was preserved in the doll also."
Ginny paused, trying to think of a way to word her next question. "Part of him... do you mean a part of his memory?"
"Yes, and no." James was silent while contemplating his explanation. "Harry made it possible for himself to be found." To be found? What did he mean by that?
"What do you mean, to be found? Is Harry still alive?"
"Harry is in a place where neither death nor life could be desired. Pain can cause the mind to be unsure of what it wants." James looked at Ginny, expecting more questions. But Ginny remained in thoughtful silence, so he waited patiently.
Suddenly Ginny reached a decision. "So I could find him, by using that doll?" She pointed to it, where it still lay on the table. James frowned. "The doll on its own will not tell you where he is." Ginny became annoyed with the doll unexpectedly. "Well then what's the use of having it? You don't seem to want to help me at all!"
"There is only so little that I can tell you. I am not some sort of omniscient deity that can solve anything, as much as I like to think I am," he laughed to himself. Ginny did not see James laughing; she saw Harry laughing. "But." Ginny started, "there must be a way."
"There is a way, if you choose to look for it." James stood up and straightened himself out. "I think I will leave you here now, as I have relayed all the information I possess to you." Ginny looked desperately at him. "But you must know where he is! You said yourself he is in pain! How can you leave now? I have to find him!"
"And you will, Ginny," James replied sincerely. "You love him, and your mutual love will guide you to him." His eyes strayed to the doll. "I must go now." The form of James slowly faded away, as though he was being sucked into the doll. "No, please don't go!" Ginny cried desperately. Then silently she cursed herself for being loud; Ivy was asleep upstairs.
Her attention returned to the doll and she picked it up. A sudden jolt was sent through her body, and she dropped it as though it had burned her. Angrily she kicked it across the floor. She collapsed into her chair and longed to scream in her anger. Angry tears escaped her eyes, and dampened her cheeks.
As though she had wished it, an invisible hand wiped them away. Ginny gasped in horror. She really needed sleep.
*
Sleep had not rescued her from the madness of the happenings that evening. Only did she toss and turn with nightmares of what Harry could possibly be going through. Neither death nor life could be desired. These words of James echoed in her head.
In the morning, Ivy was not fixing breakfast, but patiently waiting for her mother to make an appearance in the kitchen. "Morning," she said.
"Good morning dear. Did you sleep well?"
"I had a nightmare, but you weren't in your bed, so I just went back to sleep." Ginny regretted her absence. "I'm sorry sweetheart, I was... well, do you want to talk about your dream?"
"No, it's alright... I hardly remember what it was about now!" Ivy giggled, "I guess that's a good thing." Ginny smiled, then had an idea. "Ive, what would you say we went to visit Aunt Hermione's house?" Ivy squealed with delight. "Ooh! Yes Mummy! Auntie Hermione's house is so... so magical."
Ginny lifted the pot of Floo Powder from its place in the corner of the hearth and grabbed up some of the dust. "Now, do you remember how to go into the fireplace, and everything?" Ivy rolled her eyes, "Yes, Mum, I've only been flooing for a year now. Honestly." Ivy grabbed up some of the fine green particles and threw it into the flames. As the brilliant green flames swirled and danced before her eyes, she stepped into them and shouted, "12 Grimmauld Place!"
*
As Ginny stumbled out of the grate, she noticed her daughter, safe and sound, sitting on the sofa next to Hermione, who was chatting quite animatedly with the little girl.
"You have grown at least an inch since I last saw you, I swear it... Ginny! We weren't expecting this welcome visit!" Hermione moved to hug Ginny, and as doing so she whispered, "Everything alright?" Ginny shushed her, indicating that they would talk about it later. "Where's Ron?" Ginny said loudly, so as to distract Ivy from the private conversation.
"He's upstairs. He might be doing laundry, but I doubt it. Usually, conveniently, finds something in a moving box and claims he absolutely had to look into it." She rolled her eyes at her husband's nonsense, but smiled nonetheless. "You might be able to find him, Ivy. I'm sure he'll be glad to see you." Ivy was already running up the stairs.
Hermione motioned for them to have a seat at the kitchen table, which was neat with a tall flower arrangement in the center. Simple placemats completed each table setting. "Would you like something to drink, Ginny? There's lemonade, juice, water, coffee... I could go on."
"Water's fine," Ginny replied, not really interested in a beverage right now. "Er, Hermione, I was meaning to talk to you about something important by coming here," she said as Hermione placed two glasses of water on the table. "Something happened last night."
"What's happened? Is everything alright?"
"Yes everything's fine and normal... well, fine in any case. Last night, I met James." Hermione sipped her water with interest. "And who might this James be?" She smiled.
"Er, that's the thing, he's Harry's father." Hermione gulped loudly and almost sprayed her drink at the flowers. "Ginny, are you feeling alright?"
"Fine, but Hermione, I'm not joking. Ivy had found this doll at the Old Lot, and I've found out it contained James' memory." Hermione stared at her with awe. "When did all this happen?"
"Ivy found the doll two days ago, and I was getting a bit frustrated with the whole matter last night. See, Ivy had been talking to James, as though he were some imaginary friend. But he sounded so real, like the real James Potter. But I knew that couldn't be so, and I sort of went along with it. I visited Mum that day; I had been going through some old things..." Ginny went silent for a moment, and Hermione put an understanding hand on hers. "Anyway, that's not the point. It's when we were leaving that Ivy said James wanted to talk to me.
"So I sort of forgot about it until Ivy reminded me when we were at the park. We got home and spent the rest of the day goofing off and having a fun, free day, you know? But when I put her to bed, I got to analyzing the doll somehow, and er... started talking to it," Ginny blushed slightly going over how silly she had been acting, "But then... he just appeared, behind me. I could talk to him." The whole time Ginny had been talking kind of fast, still amazed at all the facts, and she waited to hear what Hermione had to say about all of it.
"Well?" Ginny looked up as Hermione spoke. "What did he say?" Ginny remembered most of what James said, and spoke of it with a 'he said, I said' sort of dialogue. As she talked, Hermione grew steadily white. When she finished, all Hermione could manage to say was, "He's alive..."
"Well, from what James said, he's being tortured or something. The only person who keeps coming to mind if Malfoy." Hermione looked at her, stunned. "I mean," Ginny continued, "he was supposedly the one behind it all, but he's been missing the same time Harry has." Ginny nearly choked on the name.
Hermione closed her eyes in concentration for several quiet seconds, then sighed hopelessly. "There are nearly a dozen places, or more, that they could be." Ginny nodded, "I know, that's why I was so angry that James went away like that."
"Who's James?" Ron had just appeared in the doorway, Ivy in his arms. "James is my friend, Uncle Ronnie." Ron cringed at his title, then theatrically whispered, "Uncle Ron, Ive, or even just Ron. Not Ronnie." Ivy giggled, "But Uncle Fred and Uncle George said you liked to be called that!"
"They did, did they? Well, I should have you know that they like to be called Uncle Freddie and Uncle Georgina." Ivy giggled helplessly and wriggled out of his grasp. She ran over to Hermione and plopped down on her lap, causing Hermione to give a faint "oof".
"What are you feeding this child, Gin?"
"Food," Ginny laughed. She turned to Ivy, "Can you get Mummy some more water, please?" Ivy obliged and took the glass across the kitchen, having difficulty reaching the faucet. Hermione got up to help, but first gave Ron a look that said, 'Ginny has something important to tell you so go and sit down by her. Now!' (Hermione gives complex looks.)
Following his wife's silent instructions Ron walked over to Hermione's vacated seat. Ginny explained everything in hushed whispers while Hermione dawdled with Ivy at the sink. When she finished, Ron was equally pale, as Hermione had become.
"What?"
"It's all true," Ginny replied, starting to get choked up on relaying the information a second time. "I just hate to think what they're doing to him, whoever 'they' is." Tears wrestled their way out of her eyes. "Oh Ginny, don't cry. We're going to find him. That bastard Malfoy will wish he'd never been born."
"Ron!"
"Well, it's true. When I get my hands on him..." Ron seemed to be fantasizing about his coming opportunity to strangle Malfoy until he choked to death, or at least that's what Ginny gathered from his hands holding what she assumed was an invisible neck. When Hermione had finally finished retrieving the glass of water, she led Ivy back to the table.
When Ron looked at Hermione and didn't receive a nice look, he sighed loudly and sat back in his chair. "What did I do now?"
"I just had to explain to Ivy what a b - a - s - t - a - r - d is," she replied heatedly. "I ended up saying it was Malfoy's first name." Ron couldn't help but crack up in wicked laughter, at least until Hermione gave him a look that would frighten a dragon. He coughed hurriedly to cover up remaining sniggers.
"I guess it might as well be," he managed to choke out before earning a slap on the head by Hermione. While rubbing his head in hopes of getting sympathy from his sister, he asked, "So, what is all this supposed to mean? I mean, how are we going to find him?"
"It must have something to do with Voldemort's old Death Eaters, the ones that haven't given up their fight for evil."
"Obviously, if Malfoy's involved. C'mon, Gin, you're usually one to look past the basics." Ron gave his sister a disappointed look. Promptly Ginny came back with an evil glare that caused Ron to unconsciously back up. "There is a possibility that Malfoy wasn't joining Death Eater forces, and could just be up to something out of pure hatred." Her face softened almost unnoticeably, but Ron must have noticed and sat regularly again.
"Though," Ginny continued, "I must say I do agree. It is pretty much decided that Malfoy is using Death Eaters to do the job of torturing... him." The phrase, 'torturing Harry' could barely be thought in her mind, let alone spoken out loud. "Malfoy was never one to do the dirty work himself."
"No, he always got - ruddy - Crabbe and Goyle to do everything for-"
"Ronald Weasley! Will you let me speak, please?"
"Sorry." Ginny gave him a look for a moment longer, then spoke openly again to the two of them. "As I was trying to say, Malfoy won't pull something like this together on his own. He'll get anyone but himself to take care of things." She paused to think, "And anyone could include any person, or any creature."
Suddenly Ivy's voice came from the floor near them, "When you say Malfoy, do you mean Bas-"
"YES, dear," Ginny said hurriedly, "We do."
She glared at Ron and paused to let the effect of her words take hold of him and Hermione, as Ivy continued to talk to her doll across the room. Then Hermione readjusted in her seat and said, "I think that's the only possible thing it could be. I mean, who else would be torturing Harry? Voldemort has been dead for years, surely it couldn't be him-"
"We can only hope," Ron said miserably through his hands. He was resting his chin on his hands, which were on the table. Hermione snorted, "Don't be ridiculous, Ron. Of course he's dead. He has to be. We all saw it when it happened." Hermione shuddered. "Anyway, Ginny, I think we should all go to look for him."
Ginny looked up, startled. "Oh no, Hermione, I'm not going to drag you into this-"
"Ginny, hate to break it to you, but you already have." Ron had sat up and was talking sincerely to her. "If there's a chance my best mate is alive..." At this point Ron's eyes became glossy, "Then there's no way," he toned down his voice for prevention of little ears hearing him, "in hell that you can make me stay behind while you go by yourself to rescue him."
Hermione beamed up at Ginny. "Definitely, that goes for both of us." Her eyes too developed tears. "We loved Harry, too, we all did." Her lip trembled and collapsed into Ginny's arms, and the two embraced each other through the tears. Ron shook his head in mock disgust. "Women," he said, wiping a tear from his cheek. ~~~~~
A/N: Aww, yes, Ron's becoming a little old softy, isn't he? Well, not such a cliffhanger this time. I've had a bit of writer's block lately; so don't be mad at me for taking a while in updating. Anyway, I thought this was a suitable place to end this chapter, so it will have to do until number 4!
The apparition chuckled. "I guess I'm going to have to get used to that. No, I'm not Harry. I'm James. Well, a memory of James." Ginny smiled nervously. "Right... James... how on earth...?"
"I'm terribly sorry to have to bring this up, but it may help you understand better. Do you remember Tom Riddle's diary from your first year?"
How did he know? Ginny thought. "Yes," she said, her mouth becoming extremely dry. "Well," James continued, "this is similar, but not exactly how that was. I'm transparent, as he was not." Ginny examined the ghostly figure. Sure enough, she could see the bathroom door right through him. He wasn't pearly white, as the ghosts at Hogwarts were, but rather a light shade of blue-gray, distorting objects behind him. "Right," Ginny mumbled. "So... what are you doing here? I mean, how are you here? How did Ivy find you? And why is it -"
"Slow down, slow down. You want to know everything at once, but I'm not sure that would do you any good. At least my Lily found that out on occasion." He smiled. "Well, your first question; I am here because my son found me before he was taken. The doll in which I preserved myself activates itself when touched by a blood-relative of myself. This is why when you touch it I do not automatically emerge. With me so far?" Ginny paused. "I suppose... but whenever I did touch it, I felt Harry, which is why I assumed you were him. Along with your identical features." James laughed again. "You're lucky to have such an intelligent husband, Ginny."
"Why?" Ginny asked, being thrown off by his last comment. "Well, for one thing, having a dolt for a husband wouldn't be so useful, would it? But most importantly, he made sure part of him was preserved in the doll also."
Ginny paused, trying to think of a way to word her next question. "Part of him... do you mean a part of his memory?"
"Yes, and no." James was silent while contemplating his explanation. "Harry made it possible for himself to be found." To be found? What did he mean by that?
"What do you mean, to be found? Is Harry still alive?"
"Harry is in a place where neither death nor life could be desired. Pain can cause the mind to be unsure of what it wants." James looked at Ginny, expecting more questions. But Ginny remained in thoughtful silence, so he waited patiently.
Suddenly Ginny reached a decision. "So I could find him, by using that doll?" She pointed to it, where it still lay on the table. James frowned. "The doll on its own will not tell you where he is." Ginny became annoyed with the doll unexpectedly. "Well then what's the use of having it? You don't seem to want to help me at all!"
"There is only so little that I can tell you. I am not some sort of omniscient deity that can solve anything, as much as I like to think I am," he laughed to himself. Ginny did not see James laughing; she saw Harry laughing. "But." Ginny started, "there must be a way."
"There is a way, if you choose to look for it." James stood up and straightened himself out. "I think I will leave you here now, as I have relayed all the information I possess to you." Ginny looked desperately at him. "But you must know where he is! You said yourself he is in pain! How can you leave now? I have to find him!"
"And you will, Ginny," James replied sincerely. "You love him, and your mutual love will guide you to him." His eyes strayed to the doll. "I must go now." The form of James slowly faded away, as though he was being sucked into the doll. "No, please don't go!" Ginny cried desperately. Then silently she cursed herself for being loud; Ivy was asleep upstairs.
Her attention returned to the doll and she picked it up. A sudden jolt was sent through her body, and she dropped it as though it had burned her. Angrily she kicked it across the floor. She collapsed into her chair and longed to scream in her anger. Angry tears escaped her eyes, and dampened her cheeks.
As though she had wished it, an invisible hand wiped them away. Ginny gasped in horror. She really needed sleep.
*
Sleep had not rescued her from the madness of the happenings that evening. Only did she toss and turn with nightmares of what Harry could possibly be going through. Neither death nor life could be desired. These words of James echoed in her head.
In the morning, Ivy was not fixing breakfast, but patiently waiting for her mother to make an appearance in the kitchen. "Morning," she said.
"Good morning dear. Did you sleep well?"
"I had a nightmare, but you weren't in your bed, so I just went back to sleep." Ginny regretted her absence. "I'm sorry sweetheart, I was... well, do you want to talk about your dream?"
"No, it's alright... I hardly remember what it was about now!" Ivy giggled, "I guess that's a good thing." Ginny smiled, then had an idea. "Ive, what would you say we went to visit Aunt Hermione's house?" Ivy squealed with delight. "Ooh! Yes Mummy! Auntie Hermione's house is so... so magical."
Ginny lifted the pot of Floo Powder from its place in the corner of the hearth and grabbed up some of the dust. "Now, do you remember how to go into the fireplace, and everything?" Ivy rolled her eyes, "Yes, Mum, I've only been flooing for a year now. Honestly." Ivy grabbed up some of the fine green particles and threw it into the flames. As the brilliant green flames swirled and danced before her eyes, she stepped into them and shouted, "12 Grimmauld Place!"
*
As Ginny stumbled out of the grate, she noticed her daughter, safe and sound, sitting on the sofa next to Hermione, who was chatting quite animatedly with the little girl.
"You have grown at least an inch since I last saw you, I swear it... Ginny! We weren't expecting this welcome visit!" Hermione moved to hug Ginny, and as doing so she whispered, "Everything alright?" Ginny shushed her, indicating that they would talk about it later. "Where's Ron?" Ginny said loudly, so as to distract Ivy from the private conversation.
"He's upstairs. He might be doing laundry, but I doubt it. Usually, conveniently, finds something in a moving box and claims he absolutely had to look into it." She rolled her eyes at her husband's nonsense, but smiled nonetheless. "You might be able to find him, Ivy. I'm sure he'll be glad to see you." Ivy was already running up the stairs.
Hermione motioned for them to have a seat at the kitchen table, which was neat with a tall flower arrangement in the center. Simple placemats completed each table setting. "Would you like something to drink, Ginny? There's lemonade, juice, water, coffee... I could go on."
"Water's fine," Ginny replied, not really interested in a beverage right now. "Er, Hermione, I was meaning to talk to you about something important by coming here," she said as Hermione placed two glasses of water on the table. "Something happened last night."
"What's happened? Is everything alright?"
"Yes everything's fine and normal... well, fine in any case. Last night, I met James." Hermione sipped her water with interest. "And who might this James be?" She smiled.
"Er, that's the thing, he's Harry's father." Hermione gulped loudly and almost sprayed her drink at the flowers. "Ginny, are you feeling alright?"
"Fine, but Hermione, I'm not joking. Ivy had found this doll at the Old Lot, and I've found out it contained James' memory." Hermione stared at her with awe. "When did all this happen?"
"Ivy found the doll two days ago, and I was getting a bit frustrated with the whole matter last night. See, Ivy had been talking to James, as though he were some imaginary friend. But he sounded so real, like the real James Potter. But I knew that couldn't be so, and I sort of went along with it. I visited Mum that day; I had been going through some old things..." Ginny went silent for a moment, and Hermione put an understanding hand on hers. "Anyway, that's not the point. It's when we were leaving that Ivy said James wanted to talk to me.
"So I sort of forgot about it until Ivy reminded me when we were at the park. We got home and spent the rest of the day goofing off and having a fun, free day, you know? But when I put her to bed, I got to analyzing the doll somehow, and er... started talking to it," Ginny blushed slightly going over how silly she had been acting, "But then... he just appeared, behind me. I could talk to him." The whole time Ginny had been talking kind of fast, still amazed at all the facts, and she waited to hear what Hermione had to say about all of it.
"Well?" Ginny looked up as Hermione spoke. "What did he say?" Ginny remembered most of what James said, and spoke of it with a 'he said, I said' sort of dialogue. As she talked, Hermione grew steadily white. When she finished, all Hermione could manage to say was, "He's alive..."
"Well, from what James said, he's being tortured or something. The only person who keeps coming to mind if Malfoy." Hermione looked at her, stunned. "I mean," Ginny continued, "he was supposedly the one behind it all, but he's been missing the same time Harry has." Ginny nearly choked on the name.
Hermione closed her eyes in concentration for several quiet seconds, then sighed hopelessly. "There are nearly a dozen places, or more, that they could be." Ginny nodded, "I know, that's why I was so angry that James went away like that."
"Who's James?" Ron had just appeared in the doorway, Ivy in his arms. "James is my friend, Uncle Ronnie." Ron cringed at his title, then theatrically whispered, "Uncle Ron, Ive, or even just Ron. Not Ronnie." Ivy giggled, "But Uncle Fred and Uncle George said you liked to be called that!"
"They did, did they? Well, I should have you know that they like to be called Uncle Freddie and Uncle Georgina." Ivy giggled helplessly and wriggled out of his grasp. She ran over to Hermione and plopped down on her lap, causing Hermione to give a faint "oof".
"What are you feeding this child, Gin?"
"Food," Ginny laughed. She turned to Ivy, "Can you get Mummy some more water, please?" Ivy obliged and took the glass across the kitchen, having difficulty reaching the faucet. Hermione got up to help, but first gave Ron a look that said, 'Ginny has something important to tell you so go and sit down by her. Now!' (Hermione gives complex looks.)
Following his wife's silent instructions Ron walked over to Hermione's vacated seat. Ginny explained everything in hushed whispers while Hermione dawdled with Ivy at the sink. When she finished, Ron was equally pale, as Hermione had become.
"What?"
"It's all true," Ginny replied, starting to get choked up on relaying the information a second time. "I just hate to think what they're doing to him, whoever 'they' is." Tears wrestled their way out of her eyes. "Oh Ginny, don't cry. We're going to find him. That bastard Malfoy will wish he'd never been born."
"Ron!"
"Well, it's true. When I get my hands on him..." Ron seemed to be fantasizing about his coming opportunity to strangle Malfoy until he choked to death, or at least that's what Ginny gathered from his hands holding what she assumed was an invisible neck. When Hermione had finally finished retrieving the glass of water, she led Ivy back to the table.
When Ron looked at Hermione and didn't receive a nice look, he sighed loudly and sat back in his chair. "What did I do now?"
"I just had to explain to Ivy what a b - a - s - t - a - r - d is," she replied heatedly. "I ended up saying it was Malfoy's first name." Ron couldn't help but crack up in wicked laughter, at least until Hermione gave him a look that would frighten a dragon. He coughed hurriedly to cover up remaining sniggers.
"I guess it might as well be," he managed to choke out before earning a slap on the head by Hermione. While rubbing his head in hopes of getting sympathy from his sister, he asked, "So, what is all this supposed to mean? I mean, how are we going to find him?"
"It must have something to do with Voldemort's old Death Eaters, the ones that haven't given up their fight for evil."
"Obviously, if Malfoy's involved. C'mon, Gin, you're usually one to look past the basics." Ron gave his sister a disappointed look. Promptly Ginny came back with an evil glare that caused Ron to unconsciously back up. "There is a possibility that Malfoy wasn't joining Death Eater forces, and could just be up to something out of pure hatred." Her face softened almost unnoticeably, but Ron must have noticed and sat regularly again.
"Though," Ginny continued, "I must say I do agree. It is pretty much decided that Malfoy is using Death Eaters to do the job of torturing... him." The phrase, 'torturing Harry' could barely be thought in her mind, let alone spoken out loud. "Malfoy was never one to do the dirty work himself."
"No, he always got - ruddy - Crabbe and Goyle to do everything for-"
"Ronald Weasley! Will you let me speak, please?"
"Sorry." Ginny gave him a look for a moment longer, then spoke openly again to the two of them. "As I was trying to say, Malfoy won't pull something like this together on his own. He'll get anyone but himself to take care of things." She paused to think, "And anyone could include any person, or any creature."
Suddenly Ivy's voice came from the floor near them, "When you say Malfoy, do you mean Bas-"
"YES, dear," Ginny said hurriedly, "We do."
She glared at Ron and paused to let the effect of her words take hold of him and Hermione, as Ivy continued to talk to her doll across the room. Then Hermione readjusted in her seat and said, "I think that's the only possible thing it could be. I mean, who else would be torturing Harry? Voldemort has been dead for years, surely it couldn't be him-"
"We can only hope," Ron said miserably through his hands. He was resting his chin on his hands, which were on the table. Hermione snorted, "Don't be ridiculous, Ron. Of course he's dead. He has to be. We all saw it when it happened." Hermione shuddered. "Anyway, Ginny, I think we should all go to look for him."
Ginny looked up, startled. "Oh no, Hermione, I'm not going to drag you into this-"
"Ginny, hate to break it to you, but you already have." Ron had sat up and was talking sincerely to her. "If there's a chance my best mate is alive..." At this point Ron's eyes became glossy, "Then there's no way," he toned down his voice for prevention of little ears hearing him, "in hell that you can make me stay behind while you go by yourself to rescue him."
Hermione beamed up at Ginny. "Definitely, that goes for both of us." Her eyes too developed tears. "We loved Harry, too, we all did." Her lip trembled and collapsed into Ginny's arms, and the two embraced each other through the tears. Ron shook his head in mock disgust. "Women," he said, wiping a tear from his cheek. ~~~~~
A/N: Aww, yes, Ron's becoming a little old softy, isn't he? Well, not such a cliffhanger this time. I've had a bit of writer's block lately; so don't be mad at me for taking a while in updating. Anyway, I thought this was a suitable place to end this chapter, so it will have to do until number 4!