When the War is Over: Chapter Ten
(I don't own any copyrights to the Harry Potter series, or anything to do with it).
I come to, in pitch blackness; My head feels about the size of a grapefruit, and throbs painfully when I try to move. My legs are like jelly, my senses are skewed by the darkness. The floor feels smooth beneath my hands, I grope my way as far to the right as possible, fifty hand-spans that way, and to the left, about sixty; Forward, only forty. I can feel a cool metal door beneath my fingertips, but no cracks to wedge my fingers into. Pressing my ear to the door, I can just barely hear the ringing of footsteps, drawing closer. Scrambling backwards, the door squeals open, and harsh, bright torch light fills the room.
Shading my face with my hands, I can just barely make out the shape of squat little man in front of me, breathing harshly.
"My master says you are to come with me," he wheezes, and I recognize the voice; Scabbers, or more precisely, 'Worm-tail', the one who sold Harry's parents out to Voldemort, and the one who pretended to be our family's pet rat for so many years. He leans forward and seizes my arm roughly, dragging me to my feet. I stumble, and he roughly shoves me forward. I stagger out into the corridor, but any hope of running flees my mind when I see an entire group of Death Eaters awaiting us, wands raised, in the corridor.
"No escape for you, pet," someone says, laughing softly. "The master is going to get inside your head...find out what you have to do with this prophecy!"
"And when he's done, he'll probably just kill you, to keep it from ever happening," another joins in.
Worm-tail hisses, and jabs me in the back with his wand. "Move," he snaps.
After we travel a ways down the corridor, we come to a rotting wooden door with light spilling in around the cracks. A draft feels strong and cool on my face and arms; Worm-tail opens the door and shoves me outside. We stand in a high-walled courtyard, with the bare branches of the trees swaying mournfully above our heads in the cloudless blue sky. The air is cold, my muscles tighten in protest, but I am made to stumble further...and that is when I see him.
Across the courtyard, another group of Death Eaters are awaiting us, surrounding a tall figure with strikingly black hair, ragged, and under nourished. My heart explodes with joy! I willingly rush forward and feel him embrace me, tenderly at first, but than as tightly as he can.
"Ginny," he breathes, sending chills up and down my spine, "oh God, I tried to protect you from this..."
"I love you," I tell him firmly. Worm-tail snatches me away and shoves me backward into the arms of the Death Eaters, I hear Harry suck his breath in harshly.
"If you hurt one hair on her head, I'll kill you," he says coldly.
"I'm so scared," Worm-tail retorts, laughing. We move on.
We eventually come to a set of double doors with the giant figure of a snake engraved upon them, curling around the brass handles menacingly. Worm-tail knocks, and than enters, shoving us on ahead of him. At first, we can see nothing clearly in the gloom; The windows have all been covered with black drapes, a fire burns in a fireplace, before a thick rug and a worn armchair. Whoever occupies the armchair is sitting with their backs to us; A giant snake lays coiled around the chair, and lifts it's head curiously for a moment, flicking a pink forked tongue at us, before settling back at the feet of it's master.
"You have done well," Voldemort hisses, "I asked for him, and you brought him. I asked for her, and you delivered...you will be rewarded when I am at full power again."
"Your compliments are thanks enough, My Lord," Worm-tail snivels.
"Leave us," Voldemort orders, and everyone leaves the room. The silences stretches for a time, and soon, he begins to speak again. "Ah, I can sense your connection with this girl. You would be most devastated if something were to happen to her."
Blinding pain explodes in my body, every fiber of my being seems to be trying to go in every direction at once. I scream, falling to the floor and clutching my hands to my head in agony.
"Ginny," Harry cries out, falling to his knees beside me, and cradling me protectively in his arms. "You bastard," he whispers, his green eyes flaring with hatred, "I'll kill you for this, I swear."
"Your anger is a good thing," Voldemort replies, releasing me from the pain, "it makes you stronger, more easy to read...and more easy to destroy." Harry launches himself for the armchair, only to be petrified just before he can reach it. With a sweeping motion, Voldemort rises from the chair, and steps closer to him.
What I see, sickens me. Voldemort's features are snake-like, his face is smooth and pasty white, his slits for nostrils and his narrow, flinty eyes are bathed in an evil sort of enjoyment. His long black robes rustle quietly as he moves.
"You should know better," he chides, raising his wand. In an explosion of light, Harry is catapulted across the room; He crashes into the far wall and slumps on the floor, barely moving. I try to rush over to him, but suddenly Voldemort is in front of me, elegantly spinning me around and gripping me across the collar bone with his cool forearm. He touches his wand to my temple lightly, and whispers the word 'Extracto'.
My mind seems to be full of voices, all the things I've seen and done over the past months, and all the things I've experienced in my life, seem to flash before my eyes; One voice seems to stand out more than any other.
"I want to know what your part is, girl," it says.
"I don't know," I answer honestly.
"It's here, somewhere in your head, a little phrase you heard that will make all this go away."
"No!" I cry panic, "I don't want to tell you!"
"You already are," the voice replies.
As if in a dream, I begin to recite the second prophecy, just as I read it in Olivander's shop.
"Two were fated, two did come, two and two were one. What was lost was reclaimed, what was fated was reborn, what was done, could not be undone, and so the two were one. Be wary all ye who dare attempt, the two are meant to be: Two and two were one, and one more than, was three."
"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" The voice laughs mockingly, "I know your part now, girl, and I'll end it just as easily as I'll end his..."
"You got nothing you didn't already know," I reply bravely.
"Oh, but I did. In fact, I saw a bit of your future in it. Congratulations, and at the same time, many sympathies."
I am yanked from the dream like trance, to find Harry breathing harshly, and cradling me in his arms as he rushes from the room. I have no idea how he managed to get me away from Voldemort, but I can feel his warm blood seeping into the side of my shirt, and I know he must be hurt badly. He dashes through the surprised group of Death Eaters, and dodges their offensive assorted curses and hexes. We rush around a corner, through a door, and down a flight of stairs.
Eventually, I regain enough strength to walk, and even though Harry protests, I know he is slightly relieved to be able to put me down; The wound in his side is bleeding angrily, but there is no time to tend it...yet. The sounds of hurried, pursuant footsteps forces us raggedly onwards; Like a hound giving chase to a fox, we have no time to rest, no time to think of anything but forcing our tired bodies onwards to the agony of muscles screaming in protest, and lungs that feel on the verge of bursting. Eventually, we find a wooden shed, and dash into it; We wait, but the sounds of footsteps do not pursue us any further, and it seems for the moment, that we have lost them. Our breathing is ragged, and we sink to the floor, leaning heavily against the walls.
After a time, I regain enough strength to try and tend to Harry's wound, which has, thankfully, ceased it's bleeding. It looks as though we have hidden in a storage shed; There are somecrates of odds and ends, netting, tools, and some linens. I tear one of these linens into a long strip, and wrap it carefully around Harry's side. He winces slightly, but seems to settle at my touch. A guilty surge of warmth fills my heart.
"How did--?" He begins, but I shake my head.
"--I know you tried to keep me out of this war, but I joined of my own volition. I've been a member of the order for months now, trying to find you. When you didn't write me, when no one would talk about you, I was sure something happened," I look at him fiercely, preparing to defend myself.
"I'm not angry," he assures me, "and I feel guilty saying this...but I'm more glad to see you than anything else in the entire world right now. For months they tortured me with stories of how you'd been sought out and killed...I almost lost hope..." I silence him with a kiss, and he returns the kiss with equal love.
We go on kissing for a while, and he wraps me in his arms and draws me close. I curl my head under his chin, feeling his heartbeat, feeling his kisses on my face. He rocks me gently in his arms, soothing my fears with his presence
"How did they capture you?" I eventually ask.
"I was looking for a Hocrux, and I learned it might be in this castle. I came here on my own, just to check things out, and without realizing it, I walked right into Voldemort's lair. I couldn't escape..."
"I had just come from Hogwarts, seeking another clue to your whereabouts, and they snatched me from headquarters." I explain.
"Hogwarts--" Harry whispers. I sense a sadness, a yearning, in his voice.
"It's still safe," I assure him, kissing him tenderly. I think I might never be able to stop kissing him, and it seems as though he feels the same. His kisses are like oxygen to me, I need them to live. Soon, he spreads one of the linen sheets on the floor and lays me down, pressing himself down on top of me. Our kisses grow more wild, more passionate, I feel the heat of our bodies mixing together erotically.
He breaks our passionate kisses, and studies me with his intense green eyes. Brushing a few strands of hair from my forehead, he smiles.
"I missed you," he whispers, "so many months I longed for you. I thought I'd go crazy with love and worry, and all the time I was afraid you might have found another."
"Never," I breathe fiercely, "you are the only person in the world I've ever wanted to be with. I'll die before I'll love someone else."
"Don't die," he replies, "live, for me."
"I'm ready," I tell him, making up my mind all at once, "I'm ready for you."
"I won't take advantage of you," he refuses.
"You can't take advantage of someone who loves you," I tell him. He hesitates a moment longer, but seeing the determination in my eyes, lowers his head, and kisses me on the neck, on the collarbone...
What seems like hours later, we lay side-by-side, naked and panting underneath some linen sheets. I love watching the way his chest rises and falls rhythmically, or the way his messy black hair falls on his face. He rolls over and props his head on one arm, brushing my face with his fingertips; My eyes flutter closed, the sensation of his touch is so powerful.
"I can't stop touching you," he says, "I'm so afraid I'll wake up and find out I've been dreaming."
"I know the feeling," I agree as I curl up next to him and lay my head on his chest." I want to lay like this forever, but common sense eventually wins out. "We should try to get out of this place," I say.
"I know," he replies, and he kisses me sweetly on the forehead, "I love you."
We dress, and I blush, knowing that his eyes are roving my body. The experience is still new to me, and there are new aches, new feelings in my body that weren't there before, but there is also a sense of peace, and of fulfillment. In turn, I watch him dress, admiring his lean musculature, and his grace.
We sneak from the shed, careful not to even breathe to loudly. We should be suspicious when we come across the gates of the castle, and find no one guarding them, but we are so anxious to be on the other side, to get away from here, that the ambush happens before we can even blink.
The castle gates creek open omniously; I'm ahead of Harry, when suddenly hexes and curses cloud the air. I instinctively duck, and Harry shields me protectivly with his body. There is a chorus of shouts, and we look back; A full group of Death Eaters is charging at us! I suddenly see a grim determination in Harry's eyes, I know what he is going to do, but he reacts before I can do anything to stop him.
He grabs me to him and hugs me fiercely, kissing me on the lips. "I love you," he whispers fiercly, "don't give up. Now-- run!"
In a split second, he shoves me through the gates! I stumble and fall on my knees. Whirling around, I see the gates closing between us; I catch a last, fleeing glimpse of him looking sadly at me, and than I am locked out. All the noise, all the fierce battling, is suddenly gone. In the quiet, I hear a sob escape my throat. I launch myself at the gates, and pound on them until my fists are bloody, but nothing happens. Why did he do it? Why did he save me, only to be recaptured himself? Because he loved you enough to sacrifice himself, I tell myself. 'Don't give up!' I hear him say. Alright than, I won't give up. Now that I know where you are being held, I can bring reinforcements, and we'll save you-- I promise! I turn away from the castle, and make my way to the nearest village, needing to get in contact with the order.
Several weeks pass by, I'm back at the order, trying to gather reinforcements to save Harry, but the proceedings are slow. I can provide only a limited knowledge of the layout of the castle, and it's not enough to wage a full scale attack yet. Our plans must be planned accordingly, and I understand this, but my impatience grows. So much so, that I begin to have fits of nausea and irritability; I throw up quite often.
One day, after the second or third time I've had to rush to the bathroom, I step out to find Hermione waiting for me. She looks at me anxiously, and leads me off to her room, shutting the door firmly behind her.
"How often have you been throwing up in the past couple weeks?" She ask pointedly.
"Only a couple times, most days," I reply uncomfortably. What's she getting at?
"You've been irritable, nauseous, impatient..." Hermione counts off all my symptoms on her fingers, "and your also lying to me. You and Harry did some 'things' when you got back together, didn't you?"
"I don't know what your talking about," I blatantly lie, the experience still fresh in my mind, even after a few weeks.
"Oh please," Hermione sounds disappointed, "we're both girls, and I'm not going to lecture you on what Harry and you have done. I just care about you, and if your carrying his child, than just be honest with me."
"I honestly don't know," I reply a little sheepishly, "I just thought all these things were symptoms of stress."
Hermione presses something into my hand and steers me from the room. A pregnancy test? I glance up at her, but she shakes her head.
"Just test it out-- please, for my sake?"
In the bathroom, I sweat it out, pacing back and forth, afraid to learn the truth. Eventually, Hermione knocks on the door and asks if I need any help, and I make up my mind to find out one way or another. Several tense minutes later, I have my answer. With shaky hands, I read the codes on the box... Dropping the box on the floor, I sit down heavily on the toilet; Hermione knocks, and than enters. From the expression on my face, it's obvious what the answer is.
"I'm...carrying our baby," I whisper, shock waves rippling through my body.
"Are you scared?" Hermione asks, placing an arm around my shoulders comfortingly.
"No," I answer truthfully, "but...I think I may understand a little bitmore about the prophecy now."
"How's that?" Hermione humors me.
"Two and two were one, and one more than, was three," I repeat the last lines of the prophecy, "and if I'm right--"
"--Don't think about that now," Hermione cuts in, "right now, just think about the little one. Girl or boy, it's yours and Harry's baby, this is a happy moment."
"Your right," I reply, smiling, "this is a happy moment, and I am just going to be happy."