CHAPTER EIGHT:

The alarm went off at four in the morning. A loud blaring siren that echoed through the corridors, piercing a person to their very soul, waking them instantly, wide-eyed and filling them with fear. Students would sleep blissfully through unless the threat was great enough to warm them of an attack at which point Professor McGonnagal would mutter yet another one of Hermione's special spells to sound a less frightening alarm in the dormitories.

Harry sat up instantly, eyes searching through the darkness of his room. There was a strange feeling about and he knew someone was there, lurking; waiting for him to crawl out from beneath the covers. Harry snaked his hand beneath his covers under he felt the polished wood of his wand brush against his fingers.

His dark green eyes, clouded over with sleep and apprehension, snapped towards an old worn out leather chair that rested next to a bookshelf in the corner. A familiar red head was rested against the dark material and a distinct hic-cough sounded as the siren quieted down. Harry was instantly out of his bed and pulling Ginny into his arms as quiet sobs racked her body making her shake. Her head rested against his shoulder and he could feel the tears soaking through his night shirt. He rocked her back and forth slowly like he had many times in those first few months since Ron died.

"Ginny," he soothed in a calm voice, forgetting that it was the alarm that had awoken him, "what happened?"

She shook her head, and he could feel her jaw tighten as her hands clasped around his shirt to try and grasp at some form of comfort in these trying times. Harry pushed her head back and titled her chin towards so that her deep brown eyes met his darker green ones.

"Ginevra," he said, his tone pushing her to answer, "what happened? I need to know."

Harry was shocked by the next action, but didn't push her away when he felt her warm lips against his. Her lips were salty from the tears that had slipped down her face, but he found himself not minding in the least.

Her arms twisted around his neck, into his shaggy black hair, deepening the kiss and Harry could not stop the moan that escaped him. It had been three long years since he'd been kissed hungrily by Ginny, by any girl, and he could barely contain himself.

He felt himself leaning forward when she pulled away and frowned at her, completely forgetting that she had been crying only moments before. Then he looked into her eyes and saw the sadness that was settled there.

"Harry, I don't know how to say this," she said quietly, looking at him with what seemed like regret. Regret for someone's actions, perhaps her own.

Looking into her eyes, though, he instantly knew. Everything clicked into place and his heart fell. "Where did they take her?" His voice was filled with venom as he moved Ginny off of his lap and moved to his wardrobe to pull out a pair of black slacks, a black button down shirt, and his black tennis shoes.

Ginny watched as he stripped from pajamas and donned what she had classified as his "hunting outfit." He wore it anytime he went searching for something, and this time she knew he wouldn't be coming back until he found her.

She watched as he crossed to his bed and pulled on his shoes. He did everything with such a rhythm and she felt a familiar pain pull at her heart knowing that she had let him walk out of her life once before.

"Harry, please, listen to me. Hermione will be okay. Think about this before you go rushing into action." She was pleading with him, she knew this, but she couldn't bear to watch him walk out of her life again. Not when she was so close to getting him back; from their kiss a few moments before she knew she was right in thinking he still felt something for her.

Harry looked up at her as he pulled on his shoelace and the bunny-eared knot slipped into place. "Ginny, I've lost one best friend in this war. I am not about to lose another."

"You don't think I know that!" she screamed, her hands finding a place on her hips as she glared at him. "I lost him, too, Harry. I was there when he died, you weren't. Don't give me any of that losing bullshit."

Harry sighed as he stood up and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Ginevra, I promise, I won't rush into anything. But, Death Eaters leave clues. I plan on searching the castle to find them."

Ginny eyed him skeptically before dropping her gaze. He smiled and pulled her in closer and dipped his head low until their lips met again. It was an amazing feeling and he had know idea why he had willingly given this up the first time. She did things to him, made him feel things he never had, and he had pushed her away. He smiled despite himself at his own stupidity.

Pulling away he pulled her in for another hug, feeling her tense up. He spun around to see Pansy Parkinson leaning against his door frame with her right hand above her head idlely twirling her hair in her fingers. A tight black velvet dress clung to her figure, hanging to about mid-thigh, and a black cloak was draped around her shoulders. Her honey colored blonde hair hung in loose waves around her face and her sage colored eyes were darkened with the same determination he had seen only days earlier.

He had to admit she had a perfect body, toned and thin, and behind the frail image that she put on he knew very well she could probably take good care of herself. He felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth as his eyes grazed over her. Pansy Parkinson was the first person who was here not for him, not to defeat Lord Voldemort, not to make the world a better place. She was standing in his doorway because she wanted something for herself.

Harry found himself torn between finding such selfishness endearing or annoying. She was a complete mystery to him. She could be two completely different sides of the same coin in a span of seven hours.

"What do you want, Parkinson," snapped Ginny, pulling Harry out of his inner musing about the Slytherin woman in front of him.

Harry's hand automatically found its place on Ginny's shoulder, to pull her back and tell her not to start and argument, but his own fight with Pansy a few days previous caused him to simply rest it there as if in assurance.

Pansy smirked and pushed herself up off the door frame, taking a few steps forward until her thighs were resting against the opposite side of Harry's bed. He couldn't stop himself from looking at where his red sheets barely brushed the bottom of the black velvet material of her dress. Taking in a gulp of air he forced his attention to return back to the bitter conversation the girls were having.

"What do you mean you know where they took Hermione! You were apart of this weren't you."

Pansy rolled her eyes towards the sky and looked at Harry. "As I was saying before your girlfriend interrupted me, was that I have an idea of where we might find Hermione."

Harry looked at her skeptically, but nodded. He pulled away from the red-head next to him and moved towards the blonde across from him. He reached down in front of his bed and slung a bag over his shoulder, tugging at his black robes that were draped over the trunk next to his feet.

He heard Ginny let out a defiant laugh. "Harry, you can't believe her! She is one of them! I bet she is the reason Hermione is missing."

Harry kept his back towards Ginny and turned his gaze towards Pansy, raising his eyebrows to question her motives silently. She gave him a brief smile before spinning around and walking out the door, her black cloak slipping around her shoulders and sliding against the ground as she walked away. Harry followed her in silence leaving behind a fuming Ginny Weasley.