Edit 8-21-04: Isle of White should be "Isle of Wight" thanks to pudadingding. The only reason I knew of the place at all is because my cousin's grandmother is from there, and said cousin went there this past year, I believe.
The Old Lot
The Acquaintance
"Early this morning, a disturbance awakened the innkeeper at the Hog's Head. When the fuss didn't end he trudged up the stairs and found the noise coming from behind door 13, a room occupied since last night. He could not believe he was seeing what he found.
"'There's a man lying on the floor, and he was definitely dead, wasn't moving and all. Then there was another man in a hooded cloak, this one alive, and he snapped his fingers, and the dead guy disappeared. Moments later he did too.' The innkeeper, wishing to remain anonymous, commented later that he couldn't tell how the man had died, but knew exactly who it was: Neville Longbottom.
"'He came in late last night asking for a room, and I recognized him from somewhere. Don't know where from, though.' Neville was 27 years old and his parents died insane at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries five years ago. Ministry workers are getting in touch with an aunt of Neville's, and until then the Prophet is to release no more information.
Mr. Longbottom was not known to have trouble with other wizards, but if anyone should have information relating otherwise, they should contact the Ministry immediately."
Ginny still refused to believe this sudden news. It didn't make sense; she'd just talked to Neville the previous night. It was equally impossible, in Ginny's opinion, to believe Neville would ever have trouble with other wizards.
"I saw him," Ginny said.
"What?" Ron asked.
"Last night. I ran into him, literally, and he asked what I was doing here. I asked the same of him - he'd told me a while ago that he was to be visiting an aunt this month - and he said she'd fallen ill. Then he asked me again what I was doing here, and I... I lied."
"You lied?" Hermione's eyes widened in disbelief. "He's our friend, you could've told him! There'd be nothing wrong with Neville knowing."
Ginny began to feel more awful by the second. "I know," she sighed, "I don't know why I did it, either! It just didn't feel... quite right. I... I don't know. I really don't know." She combed her fingers through her hair and leaned on her elbows. "This can't keep happening. Friends disappearing and dying; evil, effing gits getting away and us not knowing how or why! Soon it's going to be one of us! Or maybe we'll run into Dean Thomas or Luna Lovegood, and after that it's 'Oh, we're sorry, we bring death and destruction to all our friends, it's time for you to go now. Goodbye.' And what about Ivy? She's being raised without a father, every child needs a father, and now I've gone too, her mother, what good is a mother or father if there not there to be with you? It would be Harry's childhood all over again!"
"Ginny, you're getting hysterical," Ron said calmly. "Nothing's going to happen to Ivy, she's with Mum and Dad. I agree - every child needs a father, so right now you're doing your best to give her that."
Ginny looked up at her brother, who was smiling slightly, despite having just heard everything his sister been thinking about for a long time. Staring in near awe, she said finally, "When did the stubborn redhead with a huge temper become so wise and understanding?"
Ron shrugged, his cheeks reddening slightly. "Dunno. Guess I'm getting... old..." Shuddering, he grimaced.
"Maybe not," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. But they all laughed anyway.
Her brother and Hermione began talking, but Ginny didn't pay attention. She thought something over quickly.
"We have to get out of here," she finally said. Ron looked at her disbelievingly. "But we just got here!"
"Oh, you're so daft, you know that?" Ginny said. Ron started to say something about 'what happened to wise and understanding,' but Ginny ignored him. "We came to find out where Harry went, didn't we?" Ron and Hermione nodded. "Absolutely," Hermione said.
"Okay then, he's not here, so why are we just sitting here on our lazy arses and acting as though we're just waiting for him to show up? We have to start looking!"
"Who are you and what have you done with my sister," Ron blurted out.
"Let me tell you," she said, standing up. "She's been waiting since she was still pregnant with Ivy for Harry to miraculously return, and only now is she realizing that's not going to happen. For every time Harry's saved our skins, we're going to find him and repay him for everything. We're going to find him and bring him home. We're going to find him and introduce him to his daughter." Ginny's eyes welled with happiness and determination. "And while we're at it, we're going to kick Malfoy in the ballocks and give him what he deserves!" Breathing heavily, Ginny sat back down to signify the end of her speech.
"You missed your calling, Gin," Ron said, his eyes wide. "You should get together with Oliver Wood and co-captain a quidditch team." He shook his head in disbelief. "That speech was bloody brilliant, really."
"Oh, shove it and go pack your suitcases. We're leaving in five minutes."
Hermione choked on her orange juice. "Five minutes? Have you lost your marbles? We don't even know where to go next! We have to plan what-"
"To hell with planning, Hermione," Ginny said firmly. "Harry didn't plan to witness Voldemort's rebirth, nor did he plan to get rid of him the way he did. Let's just... go." All of the sudden Ginny remembered something. "D'you remember what the map said? 'Lost will be found, yet hardships you will not escape.' We're going to find him; it just definitely won't be easy. We'll just have to... follow our hearts, or something."
"You're right," Hermione said. Silence ensued for a few seconds then...
"Ouch! 'Mione!"
"Don't you 'Mione me, Ronald Weasley. You heard your sister, let's go get packed." She jumped up energetically, as though Ginny's surge of purpose had extended to her, too. Ron was still rubbing his head where Hermione had hit him, but followed her upstairs.
Ginny watched him go and then turned around, looking over the shop. They were really doing it now. They were really going to find him.
She looked out the window. It was bright and sunny outside today. A shiver of excitement went down Ginny's spine and she smiled insanely. Then the thought that she, too, had yet to pack her suitcase disturbed her moment of satisfaction and she ran up the stairs, faster than she'd done in years.
"You," Harry growled. He had to distract her as long as he could.
Pansy giggled nauseatingly. "Oh yes, it's definitely me, Potter. Are you surprised to see me?"
"Something like that. Not your appearance, but your presence."
Pansy's smile faltered. "I don't get you, Potter."
Harry laughed. "Now that doesn't surprise me."
Pansy looked angry. "Now listen, Potter," she said venomously, spitting out his name like poison. "Things in here could get rough, you know," she warned; her voice was slightly husky. Her heels clicked on the stone floor as she walked closer. "It may just be too much for your little brain to handle."
Harry stared her straight in the eye. "You haven't got to worry about me. If it's only me you can get, that's just sad for you. What's the matter with Draco; have you two got in another fight or something?"
"You'll do your best not to mention that name right now. He's on a little... errand, at the moment." Her eyes glittered mischievously. "Though what he would want with your girl..."
"You power-hungry bitch," Harry muttered under his breath.
"What was that, Potter?" Pansy shrieked. Harry looked at the floor, concentrating on keeping his expression neutral. "Ohh," she purred, "Cat got your tongue?" She bent down, grabbed Harry's face, and kissed him fiercely. It was all Harry could do to keep from vomiting until he'd pushed her away.
"Get away from me, you wretched whore!" he yelled, and his voice echoed slightly.
Pansy only laughed. "And what are you going to do about it?" Suddenly Harry's hands became bound together, behind his back, by an invisible force. Soon after that the same happened with his ankles.
"Yes, that's better. You'll be easier to deal with now." She straddled his legs and sat on them, and inched closer until her breasts touched his chest. Slowly she leaned forward and breathed into his nose. His limbs became limp, though he was still quite awake.
Pansy turned his head and her long fingernails dug into his cheek. He felt her tongue lick the blood away. Try as he might, he could not move to stop her. Then with her nails she sliced open his ragged T-shirt, creating a long, thin red line down his chest and torso. His ribs looked as though with one intake of breath they would escape his skin. He looked like an anorexic teenager, which was half true: he was fed very little, but he was also twenty-seven years old.
Harry wished there was some way he could fall asleep rather than go through with this conscious. Unfortunately Pansy made sure that he didn't. She gave him hickeys in a line from his ear to his shoulder. She violated his privacy.
Moments before he passed out, Harry thought vaguely, I wonder how much the bastard's paying her for this.
Ginny pocketed her suitcase that she'd shrunk, and knocked on Ron and Hermione's door. A deep voice from inside told her they were almost ready; they'd meet her downstairs.
Getting a butterbeer and sitting at a table to wait, Ginny thought about the Hog's Head. Ivy had suggested it as a place where Harry might be hiding, and the memory made Ginny smile. Now after what had recently happened, she didn't think the idea of searching the inn was a bad idea. It was suspicious that Neville would be killed (and, it also seemed, kidnapped) for no apparent reason. –Well, Ginny thought, usually there wouldn't be an apparent reason, that's why the Ministry investigates odd murders.
Then she remembered the man in the cloak. What was that all about? How could he make Neville disappear with just a snap of his fingers? Usually, in order to make something disappear, a normal wizard required the use of a wand - unless they were really powerful. Like Voldemort.
Now she was being silly. Harry defeated Voldemort in her sixth year. She was there.
But it was true: Voldemort had been a very powerful wizard, and without a wand he was no exception. There was also Dumbledore. He had been the only wizard they say Voldemort had ever feared. He had also lived, unlike many, through Voldemort's reign, if only just.
Should she suggest to Ron and Hermione that they stop in at the Hog's Head? Ginny honestly had no other idea of what they were to do. Yes, she had said a nice speech about following their hearts, but truly, if her heart was telling her something right now, she wasn't getting the message.
The shadows of two people standing by her woke her from her reverie, and without much thought she blurted, "The Hog's Head."
Hermione looked at her oddly. "Yes, it was in the Prophet this morning. What about it?"
"We should go there and see if we can figure out what was going on with Neville and that guy with the cloak. It might explain why I had that bad feeling about telling Neville the truth."
"Ginny, do you really think you chose not to tell Neville about us, just by going on a bad feeling?" Ron asked sceptically.
Ginny growled angrily. "Actually, Ron, that's exactly what it was," she snapped. "I was about to, but then I almost felt sick to my stomach, so I lied. How else would you explain that?" Ron blushed and shook his head, muttering "Dunno..."
"Right, so does anyone have any other objections to going to the Hog's Head? Hermione?" Hermione shook her head and Ginny stood up. "Well then let's go." With that she downed her drink and walked resolutely towards the doors.
Ron shook his head again. "I haven't seen her like this in years."
Straightening her robes and tucking a key into her pocket, Pansy walked swiftly down the corridor and toward the staircase. The wall sconces flickered on the cold stone as she passed and her click of her heels echoed. –So damn cold up there, she thought.
When she was beginning to wish she had someone to complain to about too many steps, Pansy found herself on level ground. To the left was an exit, and to the right was a hopeless excuse for a kitchen. Or she could go straight, to Draco's quarters. She decided to get her fill of authority by going to the kitchens first; she'd deal with Draco later.
To no surprise, she found Crabbe and Goyle bullying house elves into making all sorts of sweets, cakes, and pies, and, in her opinion, getting fatter every day. One of the workers ran into Pansy's leg, coating it with flour. Pansy spat at the disgusting creature and kicked it away from her. With a wave of her wand, she cleared up the mess on her leg and boot.
"Look at you two!" she shrieked. They both jumped up in surprise. "You're lucky you're mates with Draco, or he'd have you stuffed and mounted on his wall." She paused in satisfaction as the dumb men looked stupidly at their sugar-coated hands and attempted to hide them in their pockets. "Anyway, who gave you permission to hang around the kitchens? You're supposed to be on guard duty."
"He's not here," Goyle said trollishly. Then he laughed as though he'd said something very witty and funny. Crabbe started laughing, too, engaging the pair in a guffawing contest.
Until...
"SHUT UP!" Pansy screeched loudly. They snapped to attention and Crabbe knocked over a table behind him. "Shut up and where is he?"
They both shrugged and looked down at their pigeon-toed feet. Pansy growled in annoyance and stormed out of the kitchens, up to Draco's office.
Curtains fluttered in a small window, a mere opening in the wall, no glass. The ocean roared far below. A little wooden table stood in the middle of the room, and the wind picked up a piece of parchment pinned to it by a small dagger.
Without daring to touch the knife, Pansy ripped the note off of the table and it read: I'll be back in a few days. Watch Potter.
Really, she'd been joking to Potter about Draco going out on an errand. He was just supposed to be here, doing next to nothing... Oh, this made her mad. The little bastard was probably off to see his bloody wife or something...
As Ginny braved the high wind outside, she realized that winter was indeed well on its way. Also that is was oddly dry for fall; she had the bad feeling that rain was holding out until the last possible (and most likely unfortunate...) moment. The element whistled in her ears and made her eyes water, though they were nearly shut. The world around her was soundless.
She turned around to make sure Ron and Hermione were with her, but immediately regretted doing so when a mask of red hair obscured her vision. Ginny sighed in frustration and decided to take shelter in a small alley. Moments later, her brother and friend stumbled in after her, looking as windswept as she must look.
"When – did that happen?" Ron said, voicing everyone's question.
"When the weather decided it didn't like us," Hermione said, smoothing down her cloak.
"Has the weather ever liked us?" asked Ginny. A pause, then, "No," Ron and Hermione answered together. They all laughed despite themselves.
"So, how are we going to survive our journey to the Hog's Head?"
"Who knows."
"Yeah, I'm not exactly confident."
The three looked simultaneously back at the street, to see an older woman with a shopping bag pulling a "Mary Poppins" without the umbrella.
Hermione chuckled nervously. "Maybe we should just stick it out here, until it dies down a bit, and then make a break for it."
"No objections here," Ron said, mock surrender. Then, just as he was opening his mouth to say something, a black-gloved hand covered it.
Ginny momentarily panicked before she grabbed her wand, almost the same time as Hermione did the same thing. But whoever was attacking them was thinking ahead. A voice yelled, "Expelliarmus!" and Ginny's mouth was held, too, before she could scream. She bit the hand, and her attacker growled in pain but didn't let go. Instead, a strange mist floated before her eyes, and she went unconscious.
He awoke. It was early morning. There was no indication for it, but even his body-clock had not failed him after all these years. Flat on his back at the moment, Harry stared at the moldy ceiling. The faint glow it and the walls gave off was the only source of light in his cell. He'd heard of a glowing magical plant, but at the moment could not find the name.
He tried to get up, but his head immediately started spinning and he gave up. The room was deathly cold, and his breath floated above him every time he exhaled. Yes, I could use a jumper right about now. A nice, warm Weasley jumper...
Several long minutes later, Harry succeeded in pulling himself up and sliding back against the wall before running out of physical energy. He breathed slow, deep breaths for several seconds before the small door inside the larger door to his cell opened up and a bowl of no doubt disgusting food slid under. Now he was at least ten feet farther away from the door than he was five minutes ago.
Can this get any worse?
Don't think that – it probably will.
As her eyes fluttered open, the first thing she noticed was the smell. She recognized it from somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind. She had been here before... It was of... goats?
Then she noticed she was bound and tied to a chair, and her mouth was gagged. She struggled against the ropes for a few seconds, but her wrists became raw quickly and she gave up. In her peripheral vision, to her left, she saw Ron, still out cold as far as she could tell, and she heard but couldn't see Hermione waking up.
"Hermione," Ginny tried to say, but it was extremely muffled and she herself could barely understand it. But to her surprise she got a response.
Tap tap. Tap tap tap.
The pattern clicked on a light in Ginny's brain. Muggle Studies. Fifth year. What was it called? A code. It was a code. She recognized Hermione's patterns as she tapped them out with her feet.
Ginny. Can you understand me?
Yes. Muggle Studies.
Good. Can you see Ron?
Yes. He's to my left.
Okay. Can you see anything else? I am facing a wall.
Not really. It's really dim in here.
Ginny heard Hermione make a frustrated noise. Then she tapped out: Should we try to do anything?
What is there to do?
I don't know.
It was silent for a few minutes after that, defeat in the air. Then Ron began to stir. Ginny looked round at him hopefully, and her heart sank as he began to struggle more forcefully than she had. Then he howled in pain through the cloth in his mouth. The cords must magically injure any sort of struggle by the captive. Good bit of magic, but not helping their case.
Ginny began to tap out a message to Ron, but stopped and sighed in frustration.
Hermione, Ron didn't take Muggle Studies, did he?
Unfortunately, no.
Ginny looked at Ron through squinted eyes, and his own blue ones widened into an innocent, I-didn't-do-anything face. –Damn right, you didn't, Ginny thought savagely.
Then they heard a door open. Ginny looked around, but couldn't see the door. It must be on the wall Hermione was facing. Seconds later, they heard a man's voice, low in whisper: "I'll have your gags removed, but don't bother screaming, no one will hear you. You are to explain what you are doing here, and what your mission is."
Hermione sighed as her gag was removed, and she was breathing heavily. In a moment Ginny knew why.
The tall man wore a black cloak, and the hood hid his face. An unwanted image crossed Ginny's mind, clear as air. Voldemort.
She held her breath as he approached her. Ron began to struggle again, now that he could see the body of the speaker. Slowly, he lifted his gloved hands and reached around the back of her head. She leaned forward obligingly and gasped for air when her mouth was free to breathe again. Even though she had her voice back, she didn't trust herself.
Got any ideas, Hermione? She tapped.
No. You?
"No," she said aloud, and Ron looked around the man as his gag was removed.
"No, what?" he asked. "What was all that tapping for?"
"Morse code," Hermione called over her shoulder. "Handy muggle language made up of a system of taps. It's what they used before the telephone was invented."
"Well, how do you know it, Ginny?" said Ron indignantly.
"I took Muggle Studies, elder brother," said Ginny, a pleasant smirk on her face.
"Very good, ladies," the man said, and Ginny jumped. She'd forgotten for a brief moment that she'd been taken as a hostage, for what reasons she had yet to find out.
"What do you want with us?" she blurted out, realizing a second too late how harsh it had sounded. "Please," she added.
She supposed the man had smiled, for the seconds that passed, and she was proven correct when he lowered his hood and revealed his face for the first time.
"Hey! I know you!" she said.
The man chuckled. "Yes, I am Mekhi, from the Post Office. You seem more confident a woman now, yes? I was afraid I frightened you last night."
Ginny smiled. He had frightened her, but she hadn't known why. Her smile faltered. "What do you want?" she repeated, more politely this time.
Instead of answering her, Mekhi whistled with his fingers sharply and the door opened once again. Hermione gasped, and Ginny realized she hadn't seen Mehki's face. "Could you turn her around? Towards us?" asked Ginny. Mekhi smiled, his golden tooth glistening in an unknown light, and walked back to where Hermione must be. Ginny's jaw dropped when he was once again in view, holding Hermione's chair level with his face. Hermione's eyes were wide, and she was whimpering softly. Mekhi, however, set her down gently so that now the three were all within range of seeing each other.
Hermione was noticeably relieved to be near her friend and husband again, but when she caught Ginny's attention, she was mouthing what was on Ginny's (and undoubtedly Ron's) mind at that exact moment: Where are we?
The question was answered before any one of them could voice it. "You are in the basement of the Hog's Head," Mekhi supplied, and as he centered himself in the circle of chairs, half a dozen or so people dressed just like him gathered around them, forming an outer circle. They eerily reminded Ginny of Death Eaters...
"We have brought you here for the reason of current events. You have read this morning's Prophet?"
Ginny, Ron, and Hermione all nodded simultaneously.
"He was our friend," Hermione whispered timidly. Every few seconds she glanced up at the hooded persons and visibly shuddered.
Mekhi's smile disappeared without a trace. "That was not your friend."
Ron jumped against his restraints. "What do you know about that? Of course he was our friend! I spent seven years of my life as his roommate! You don't have a right to tell me who my friends are!" He was obviously overreacting, but Ginny couldn't do anything about it. She was also more interested in what else Mekhi had to say.
"That was not your friend," he repeated. "It was an intruder. Your friend, Neville Longbottom, is safe on the Isle of Wight with his aunt." Mekhi glanced briefly at one of his hooded companions before adding, "What is it you seek?"
"Harry Potter," breathed Ginny, before she could help herself. "We seek Harry Potter." Mekhi nodded, as though this was not new information.
"Your search is not in vain," he said, nodding to himself. "But this intruder... he is involved."
"You made him disappear, though, didn't you?" Hermione said. "How did you do that?"
"I did not," Mekhi said sadly. "It was not my magical doing. Some unseen force that we do not speak of." He studied his three captives. "Do you have a destination?"
The three looked at each other. Ginny sighed. "No, unfortunately we don't." She looked up to Mekhi. "Can you help us?"
Mekhi's smile returned. "I was afraid you were going to ask that."
A/N: Long chapter! For me at least – we hit ten pages! I had hit a block, but not for lack of ideas; actually, you'll be glad to hear, I've had a sequel in mind for some time now... And my latest fic "Of Wolf and Man" will have some relevance to later chapters in "The Old Lot." Don't try to guess yet, though, I'll be adding more chapters to "Of Wolf and Man." So really I've been so excited about stuff I haven't even started yet that I couldn't sit still and get through this. But, as you can tell, we are indeed getting somewhere. ï