Chapter 8
Into the Fire
The week leading up to the World Cup conference had crept along, each day feeling little different than the last. Ginny hadn't seen even the smallest bit of evidence to suggest anyone was following her, but she still felt someone was. Harrington had stayed well away from her and Evelyn hadn't given her anything more than a spiteful glare. Even Mrs. Reading had been keeping her distance, only stopping by to check on Ginny's progress through the mountain of information.
Hermione, however, was another story entirely. Where Harrington and Mrs. Reading had merely kept themselves busy, Hermione was actively avoiding Ginny. She had resorted to somewhat extreme measures to keep from talking with her, including staying at the Ministry well into the evening and using only the lifts closest to the gate into the Entrance Hall. One evening, she had simply run away from Ginny and Disapparated as quickly as she could.
With less than one day left before she would be leaving for Egypt, Ginny had given up on trying to talk with Hermione. She was probably just trying to keep them both out of trouble. If there was any real danger, Hermione wouldn't be avoiding her. Ginny tried to convince herself of that as she paged through a series of reports of D'Anneau's actions over the last few years.
D'Anneau's past was a very odd story to read. He had been slowly climbing his way up the ranks in the French Ministry, until the news of Voldemort's fall. At that point, he seemed to suddenly appear everywhere. Whenever the French Ministry did anything, Henri D'Anneau's name was mentioned, even if it was only for some minor role.
When it had come time to select a site for the next World Cup, D'Anneau had been France's most vocal advocate. He had seemed like the logical choice to lead the delegation. Only a single witch had stood against him. For over a month, they had insulted and argued against each other. Then, quite suddenly, they had announced their engagement. They were married a week after D'Anneau had been appointed to lead the French delegation.
It sounded like a rather more abrupt version of Hermione and her brother. Nothing more was ever said about it, but Ginny wondered if D'Anneau's wife knew about her husbands activities while he was away from home. Perhaps the comparison to Ron and Hermione wasn't as valid as she first thought.
After that, he seemed to have steadily gained more and more influence. The French Minister no longer spoke to him, but other high ranking officials from all across Europe did. It sounded suspiciously similar to the rumors Albert had heard in his youth.
It all fit, now. Albert had figured it out. He knew what was happening, and that was why he wouldn't tell her any more about it. That was probably why he had been watching D'Anneau after the Quidditch match. If they were the wizards who she'd seen in the Spectrecorder, then Hermione had said they were unpredictable and not always helpful. Albert didn't seem to trust him at all.
"Reading up on Henri D'Anneau?" someone asked from behind her. Ginny turned and found Mrs. Reading standing behind her and smiling. "That's probably an excellent idea."
"Well, it still hasn't told me why he chose me," Ginny replied. "Ignoring the most superficial reasons, of course."
"Well, while we're talking about that, I wonder if you might join me in my office for a moment," Mrs. Reading asked. "There is a little matter which has come up."
Ginny followed her to her office and sat down. Mrs. Reading handed her a few rolls of parchment, one of which had a heavy Ministry seal on it. "First off, those are the documents you'll need to get into the convention area. The Egyptians have closed off a section of the city just for the World Cup delegates. You'll be allowed to come and go as you please, but I would prefer that you remain within the walls. There are Anti-Apparation wards covering the whole area and a number of security charms to keep other wizards out."
"Are they expecting problems?" Ginny asked.
Mrs. Reading frowned. "There really shouldn't be anything, but... well, the Romanian delegation will be there, and there are rumors that some of their Ministry officials have been invited as well. I'm not sure if you've read any of the news lately—"
"—I have—" Ginny interjected.
"—Right, well then you'd know that they've been having some problems. The Romanians are bringing some of their own security wizards, and they've done a good job so far, so I doubt you'll have anything to worry about. Still, there might be any number of wizards who wouldn't think twice about attacking a young witch walking about in a strange city. For your safety, we'd rather you kept to the convention area."
Ginny nodded in understanding.
"Of course, that will only protect you from the wizards outside the boundaries," Mrs. Reading said. "I'm sure you know as well as I do just what kind of wizard Henri D'Anneau is. The day we got the request, he began talking with the Egyptian Ministry about finding someplace for you to stay. Normally, attendants would stay with the country who selected them, but he felt —and I completely agree— that it would be best if you stayed somewhere outside the French camp."
She held up a roll of parchment. "This is a receipt for lodging at one of the camps which has been set up for the various officials who oversee the convention. Harrington paid for this with money from his own vault so that no one —not the French delegates, the English delegates, or even the convention officials— would know that you were staying there until the last possible moment."
"However, there has been a complication," Mrs. Reading said as she held up a second roll. "This was delivered about an hour ago. No one has seen it except the two of us. It is a note from Gringott's. They have offered to have you stay at an estate within the convention area. It's normally used as a place for their curse-breakers to stay while in the area. The goblins own it, and they have their own security."
"We don't think they know about the room Harrington set up, but if they do, there's no telling who else might know." Mrs. Reading placed the two rolls of parchment on the desk in front of Ginny. "I can't tell you which one to use. It will have to be your choice."
Ginny stared at the two rolls. She didn't know why the goblins would offer such a thing, but she knew they were no friends of Henri D'Anneau. Was he her enemy, now? Were the goblins any more trustworthy than he was?
Perhaps the choice was not a coincidence. It wouldn't be the first time that the Ministry had failed to keep a secret. D'Anneau knew about the wand. If he could learn about that, then perhaps Harrington's efforts were not as secretive as he hoped. If the goblins knew about it, then perhaps they suspected it wasn't a secret anymore, and were trying to keep her away from him.
Or perhaps they were drawing her deeper into a trap.
There was no way to know. Either of them would be better than staying in the French camp. Too many things had happened too quickly. She didn't know who to trust or where the danger truly was. She hadn't chosen wrong yet. Or had she? She stared at the two rolls, and in her stomach she knew which one she trusted more. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and reached for the roll of parchment.
With a puff of soot, Ginny Weasley rolled out of the fireplace and into a large, dimly lit room. She was immediately aware of a number of people standing nearby, some of them speaking in a foreign language. She was standing a moment later and dusting herself off. The other occupants of the room noticed her, and she flinched as a pair of them rushed toward her with their wands out.
Before she could do anything, they had cleaned and straightened her robes. They left without saying anything more, and an instant later another wizard stepped forward carrying the small traveling chest which held her clothes and other things.
"Greetings, Miss Weasley," another wizard called out. "Welcome to Giza! I'm glad you have arrived. Henri D'Anneau has been asking about you all day."
"I was told I didn't need to arrive before this evening," Ginny responded in a panicked voice.
"And you were told quite correctly," the wizard replied. He was about her father's age and almost certainly Egyptian. "I'm afraid Monsieur D'Anneau is a little anxious. He said there were some... concerns about your safety." Ginny didn't respond, but her expression was enough to confirm his statement.
"You will have no reason to worry here, Miss Weasley. You will see." The wizard gestured for her to follow, and Ginny did. They left the large room and began walking down a large corridor. Various golden statues lined the walls. As they walked, Ginny could see other corridors branching off to the sides. It was impossible to tell, but it seemed they were in some large palace.
"Where exactly are we?" she asked as they passed an empty but cavernous hall.
"We are in the largest estate in this area of the city," he answered "It is very old, very rich family. They own this building and many of the other buildings in the area. They are also strong supporters of Quidditch, which is not terribly common in these areas."
They turned a corner and started walking past a number of smaller halls which opened upon a courtyard. "The fireplace you arrived through is connected to the British and French Floo networks. You are free to use it to leave after the convention, or anytime before then if needed."
The halls they were passing now had small groups of wizards sitting in them and talking quietly. Some of them paused to stare at them as they walked by.
"Where are we going?" Ginny asked.
"You are going to meet with the French delegation, of course," the Egyptian wizard answered. "As I said, Henri D'Anneau was most eager to speak with you."
After passing only three more halls, her guide stopped and turned. He led her into a hall which looked slightly larger than the others, with large fountain at one end that reflected sunlight back into the room. A number of covered tables were scattered around the fountain, and standing around them were a number of wizards in sandy robes.
"Miss Weasley has arrived, Monsieur D'Anneau," the Egyptian announced.
At the far end of the room, one wizard stood up quickly. Even from a distance, Ginny recognized him. They Egyptian wizard bowed lightly and quickly walked off, leaving Ginny's chest by the arched doorway.
D'Anneau hurried over to her, followed by the other French delegates and a small number of other wizards. Most of them had adopted looks of passive acceptance. Some of them, however, were obviously skeptical. The young blonde delegate D'Anneau had called Sabine looked upset and was giving her a strange, almost piteous look.
"Miss Weasley!" D'Anneau greeted her merrily, "I'm so glad you finally made it. I must admit that I was beginning to worry."
"I'm sorry," she apologized, "I didn't know you were expecting me earlier."
"Oh, there is nothing to apologize for," he told her with a smile. "It is nothing more than my own foolish worries." A small tremor in his voice and the slightly manic tone of his voice suggested that it was a little more than he suggested. Did he think she was in danger? The last week had been almost disturbingly quiet, but Ginny had never thought she was in any danger.
"There is much we should speak about, but there will be plenty of time for that later. First, you should meet everyone who will be helping us, then we can get your chest taken to your room. Perhaps you will wish to relax for a while before we begin working tonight." He paused and gave her a questioning look. "Am I correct in assuming you will not be staying in the French camp with us?"
"Yes, Mrs. Reading felt it would be more proper if—"
"—Of course," D'Anneau said with a reassuring smile. "As I said, it is as I expected it to be. I will have your chest sent to the Officials' Camp. It should arrive before we are finished here."
"Actually, I will be staying at the Gringott's estate at the end of the street," Ginny told him. The fact that he knew which camp Harrington had chosen had not escaped her. Equally apparent was D'Anneau's discomfort upon hearing her correction.
"But—that is not possible," he said with a forced smile. "The Gringott's estate is off limits to convention wizards," he explained. His voice was rough and stressed, as if he were on the edge of becoming angry. "Even if you were able to get a room there, how would I send you messages?"
Ginny already had the answers. The goblins would deliver messages to her from any of the French delegates, and they would see that she was notified of any changes in the convention schedule. It didn't appear to make D'Anneau feel any better, but he didn't argue with her either.
With a frown and a frustrated sigh, he stepped outside the hall for a moment, then returned and began introducing her to the rather large number of wizards gathered in the room. Ginny only recognized the other four delegates from France. The two wizards smiled and nodded politely. The elderly witch frowned at her with distaste as she shook her hand, but Sabine seemed to be in much better spirits than she had just minutes ago, and gave Ginny a faint smile as she introduced herself. Perhaps Ginny's refusal of D'Anneau's advances had some small part in that.
Most of the rest of the witches and wizards were completely new to Ginny. A few of the names sounded familiar, but when he was done, she'd found she couldn't remember any of them. Most of them were delegates from other countries who were helping France for various reasons, including a number of delegates from Norway, who had an excellent Quidditch team and no desire to face the Bulgarians on their own pitch.
There were also a number of wizards standing against the wall who were not introduced. When Ginny finally prompted D'Anneau about them, he told her not to concern herself with them.
"They are simply extra security for my other attendant," he said quietly. "He is a wizard of some importance, and they are allowed here as a favor from the Committee. I had hoped to introduce you to him, but it seems he has stepped out. You will meet him tonight, I assure you."
Taking his leave from the other wizards, he led Ginny back toward the doorway. When they reached the corridor, he gently pulled her aside. "There is much I wish to speak to you about, and not only about the World Cup," he whispered. "If we might meet in private, there are many questions which could be answered for you. There is someone you must meet."
"The grey-cloaked wizards," Ginny whispered back. "You're connected to them. I want to know how and I want you to tell me what you know about the wand."
"If you want those answers, you'll have to trust me," he hissed. "There is—"
"Excuse me, is this Genevra Weasley?"
D'Anneau and Ginny immediately turned toward the new voice. Standing only feet away from them was a tall wizard with long dark hair streaked with grey. He had a long narrow nose, dark, piercing eyes, and a short beard. To either side of him stood a pair of wizards dressed in formal robes covered with sandy brown cloaks. Behind them were three more wizards, who looked stern, threatening and completely bored. The older wizard in front seemed to pay no attention to any of them. His eyes shifted from Ginny to D'Anneau, then back to her.
"I believe I understand now why this has become so complicated," he said gravely. He stepped toward D'Anneau and spoke in a lower voice, though Ginny could still hear him clearly enough. "I warn you, Henri, as a friend and a colleague, do not allow your distractions to interfere with our business here."
D'Anneau looked almost offended. "I do not know why you would think that I would let anything get in the way—"
"I am old, Henri, but I am not blind," the old wizard said. "I can see beauty as clearly as anyone else, but age has turned my desire for such things into nothing more than the appreciation one feels for an exquisite sculpture. A similar effect is usually achieved by marriage, though you seem to have developed some immunity to it.
"I assure you, my mind is focused on the business at hand," D'Anneau replied.
"I hope you speak the truth," the old wizard said. "There is danger here if you do not mind yourself, and I will not allow you to misuse your attendant. See that I am not forced to prove my willingness to fulfill my promise." He stepped away from D'Anneau and spoke in a clearer voice. "I believe we've spoken of this quite enough. We have a guest."
He smiled warmly at Ginny, and held out his hand. Ginny reached out to shake it and found his grip firm yet softened by the weakening of old age. Something about him made him look reverent and lordly, and before she knew what she had done, she had lightly bowed her head.
"There is no need for such gestures, Miss Weasley," he said with a slight laugh. "I am no king, nor am I your superior. Today, I am merely a wizard and you a witch. Tomorrow, we will be fellow attendants and equals, and you must not be cowed by the misguided words of an old man." The corners of his mouth twitched in an almost playful smile.
"Ahh! I have completely forgotten!" he called out suddenly, startling Ginny. "It has been quite some time since I was allowed to introduce myself. Please forgive me. My name is Grigore Tarus. This is Razvan Lupescu—" he gestured to his left, "—and Stefan Buscan. They are members of the Romanian delegation and good friends of mine."
Ginny stared at them for a moment, then glanced over at Henri D'Anneau who was watching her reaction closely. Grigore Tarus was the Romanian Minister. Had D'Anneau chosen her simply because she had shown interest in him? He did not look at all to be the haunted wizard D'Anneau had described during the Quidditch match. He felt more like someone's grandfather. The only thing that hinted at any truth in D'Anneau's description were the stern looking wizards standing behind Tarus.
He noticed her eyes looking at them, and his smile fell. "Ah, yes. My three assistants are here to see after my safety. There have been a number of mishaps lately, and some people have gotten nervous. Were it not for them, I might suggest you stay with me in my camp. As it is now, it may not be the wisest choice. You may still wish to stay outside the French camp. History suggests that it will be busy at all hours of the day, and noisy during most."
"She has already made alternate arrangements," D'Anneau interjected. "She will be staying at the Gringott's estate."
"Will she?" Tarus laughed. "I have not heard that goblins make gracious hosts, yet they will undoubtedly be quieter ones. That will not be too much of a hardship will it, Henri?"
"Arrangements have already been made," D'Anneau replied. "It will be acceptable."
"Yes, I assume it will. What reason would you have to care where she stayed? Very well," Tarus said as he clapped D'Anneau on the back. "Come, Henri. I must speak with you about these Spaniards. They may be much more helpful than we expected. As for you," he said, addressing Ginny, "you may continue down this corridor to the main gate. Someone there will direct you to the estate."
Ginny followed his directions and allowed a young Egyptian wizard to lead her down the wide street to the Gringott's estate. On either side of the street were small buildings made out of pale masonry and occasionally surrounded by colorful tents and canopies. Many of the buildings had flags hung over the doorways or flying from poles on the roofs.
As Tarus has suggested, the French camp was rather busy. A number of wizards were standing in front of the main building. Some looked bored or impatient, while others seemed to be enjoying their wait. Ginny wondered what they were gathering for. Her guide told her that the Bulgarian camp at the other end of the street was even busier.
Not far from the French camp, there was an alley which split from the main road. An assortment of wizards were standing silently across the alleyway. Ginny paused and asked her guide what it was.
"There is a small estate at the end of the alley where the Romanian Minister is staying. The Committee has decided to allow him to have private quarters though he is not a delegate," he said quietly. "They've also permitted him to bring his own security wizards. Many wizards didn't want him to come. He's cursed, they say. They are afraid his presence will endanger the people here."
Across from the alley leading to the Romanian camp was the camp where Harrington had intended her to stay. The Gringott's estate was still not in sight. Ginny started to wonder if she'd made the wrong choice. She would have been perfectly safe staying there, and could have saved herself quite a bit of walking.
When she finally reached the estate, she found a message from D'Anneau already waiting for her. There was to be a meeting that night to discuss the activities for the next day. Officially, the convention had only one purpose: a vote. Unofficially, it was the last opportunity for the candidate countries to convince others to support them.
This was not the first vote, and if a suitable number of votes couldn't be collected by either the French or the Bulgarians tomorrow, then a third convention would be called. Both countries were doing everything they could to avoid that. Ginny still didn't know just what D'Anneau had planned for her, but she did feel a little less concerned in his presence.
The goblins truly were not outstanding hosts. At best they were indifferent to her, and most of them seemed to merely tolerate her presence. They were, however, rather businesslike and efficient. One of them showed her to her room, which was clean and very tidy. Her chest was waiting for her at the foot of the bed and her room was almost eerily quiet. She fetched a set of folders from the chest and sat down at a small desk near the window.
As she paged through the stack of parchment, she frowned. Why had no one told her the other attendant would be Grigore Tarus? No one had even thought of checking on such things. Evelyn had given her everything she had on D'Anneau and France, but she couldn't remember seeing anything about Tarus or Romania. What was he doing here? Was it all D'Anneau's doing? Did he have so much power that Ministers from other countries were doing him favors? She had a few hours to pour over the files again. There must be something to help explain what D'Anneau was trying to accomplish.
That evening, Ginny returned to the French camp. She joined a number of other wizards in a spacious courtyard around a large table laden with food. For an hour or more they all simply ate and discussed various topics Ginny knew nothing of. Out of courtesy toward Ginny and Tarus, the French wizards spoke in accented English. Tarus spoke English quite well, but it seemed he also spoke French. For all that Ginny could understand of their discussions of demands and agreements, they might as well have simply saved themselves the trouble and used their native language.
When the meal was over, they all quickly vanished the plates and food and moved into a smaller room. Once the door was closed, they all began speaking of things that Ginny knew a little more about. The Norwegian wizards, who had all voted for France the last time, were confident they could convince the Danes and Dutch to vote with them. If that would happen, it would give France more votes than Bulgaria. Tarus offered to visit the Dutch and Danish delegations and ensure the agreement.
Most of the French delegates were focusing on keeping all the votes they'd received the last time. There was little worry at the moment, since more and more countries were becoming wary of the number and type of allies Bulgaria was gathering. The Germans had agreed to support them in exchange for some special training methods the Bulgarians used. There was something useful there. Ginny silently took note of it and listened for any more information.
Finally, the conversation shifted to the British delegation. She had been right. It was going to be her responsibility to speak to the British delegation. The other delegates seemed much more uncertain of her abilities than D'Anneau. Ginny wondered if he really believed in her, or if he simply needed her to speak with them so he could work out some other deal.
No matter how much they talked and planned, it never really appeared that D'Anneau had any real passion for the World Cup. It was simply an obstacle in his path, or a chore he must complete while working on some bigger plan. Ginny wondered where she fit into that plan. Would it be worth the price she'd have to play?
The meeting continued on well into the night as the other wizards made plans for all possible outcomes. Ginny listened only when her name was mentioned. It became clear that little more would be expected of her. She had been brought for one job and nothing else. Why would D'Anneau risk all of that work on an assistant from a foreign Ministry who'd only been working for a few weeks? Did he know something he wasn't telling her?
Or had he never expected her to succeed?
Ginny felt a chill run down her spine. After she'd turned him down, he'd acted strangely around her. Could it be anger? Or resentment? What if he didn't want her to succeed? What he had never planned to succeed? He could blame her for the failure. After everything else that had happened, she would be lucky if she was only left without a job.
Could Henri D'Anneau be that spiteful? Or petty? When the meeting was over, Ginny waited by the doorway in an attempt to speak to D'Anneau alone. He seemed to sense her intentions and ushered everyone else out of the room. As Grigore Tarus walked out the door, he shot a warning glance at the two of them.
When the last wizard had left, D'Anneau gently shut the door. Ginny looked up and gave him the most intimidating glare she could. He got the hint and backed off.
"What are you playing at?" she hissed. "You had to choose two people to help you, and you picked the Minister of Romania and me? He's going to get you almost all the votes you'll need, and I'm going to have a chat with the British delegates, who haven't changed their minds in months." She stalked toward him, trying not to let her expression break. "I didn't ask for this. If you think you can keep me around to blame me for anything that happens—"
"No, no," D'Anneau interrupted urgently. "Even if we were to fail, who could blame you? You simply responded to a request from my government."
"A request from your Minister," Ginny added. "Is that it? You want to blame him?"
"Of course not. I want to be able to watch the Quidditch World Cup in my home country."
"You've never liked Quidditch," Ginny shot back.
"Perhaps not, but I would very much like to sit at that match. I would make it a glorious celebration of peace and prosperity. Wizards from across Europe could gather and enjoy the wonder of France. And I will be the wizard who made it happen."
"And if you fail, it will be the Minister's fault, not your own."
D'Anneau's mouth twitched into a smile. "I have never enjoyed gambling with my own future, Ginny. I have not gotten where I am by taking risks. Not when I cannot control those who must make the decisions."
"So that's all it is?" Ginny said with a bitter laugh. "Fame and power? More influence, more money, more young witches swooning at your feet?" Her stomach was knotted and tight. Her heart told her to leave that night and tell everyone what he had just said, but she knew no one would take her word over his, and even if they did, it wouldn't matter. He could still ruin her.
"I'll help you," she said in a strained voice. "I will convince them, but in return, I want something from you."
"You shall have it," D'Anneau said excitedly. "There are powerful wizards I can introduce you to. There were many of them here tonight. Their friendships are worth more than you could ask—"
"I don't care about any of that," Ginny snapped. "I want something else."
A worried look flashed across D'Anneau's face. "Name it, and I will do what I can."
"The grey-cloaked wizards. I want to speak with them."
For a moment, D'Anneau simply stared at her thoughtfully. Then he nodded and smiled. "Join me for dinner tomorrow night," he said in a silky voice. "It is customary for delegates to meet the night before the vote. I will send a message to the goblins. Anyone who is watching will only see the head of the French delegation summoning his attendant. So long as you attempt your task in good faith, I will see that you get what you ask for, and more."
Ginny nodded and without another word, she walked to the door and left the room. She never turned to see if he was following her, and no one in the camp stopped her on her way back to the street. Once she reached the street, she took out her cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. The night air was colder than she had expected. She stopped only once to see if she was being followed. Seeing nothing, she pulled her hood over her head and continued down the street, trying to work out just what she would need to do the next day.
The next day, she was stopped as she left the Gringott's estate for her meeting with the British delegates. She had spent the entire morning reading over more of the folders in her chest, and was shocked to find three wizards in golden robes waiting for her outside the door.
"Is something wrong?"
"Good afternoon Miss Weasley," one of them said with a strong Egyptian accent. "I am terribly sorry, but we have a few questions for you."
Ginny cautiously agreed to answer their questions. They asked her about what she had seen the night before when she returned to the estate. She told them everything she had seen, which was very little. After only a few questions, they gave each other disappointed looks and told her she could go on her way.
"Was there something I was supposed to see?" she asked before leaving.
"Perhaps nothing," said the one who appeared to be their leader. "We think a shop near the Romanian camp was robbed last night. The Romanian Minister retired early and saw nothing. We heard you had returned here later, and we hoped you might have seen something on your journey."
"No, I— I'm afraid I was concentrating on other things," she told them. "Was anyone hurt, or—"
"No," the head wizard said quickly. "No one even knew it had happened until this morning."
"What was stolen?"
The wizard looked at her strangely. "Wands. Just fifteen wands, but it was all the wands the shop had. You're certain you didn't see anything?"
Ginny answered again that she had not, but as she walked away, she wondered just what the significance of the theft could mean. Who would want fifteen wands? As she tried to think of a reason, she noticed something much more important. Beyond the normal number of wizards milling about in the street, there were a small number of other wizards leaning against walls or sitting by fountains. Their cloaks were just a little too similar, and they all seemed to be looking about with the same distracted, impatient manner.
They were extra guards. They were looking for something. They were looking for thieves who'd stolen wands. The similarity to the Ministry attack was too obvious to ignore. Could it be the same thief? Why would he want fifteen random wands? Was he going to try and hide Voldemort's wand in with the others? Why would he bring it there?
She was awoken from her thoughts by the sight of the alley leading to the Romanian camp. There were even more wizards there now, twelve that she could see. Certainly that was more than necessary.
The French camp had just as many guards, but they seemed to be in better spirits. As she walked up, one of them shook her hand and led her into the French camp where she was to meet with the British delegates. As she walked down a narrow corridor, one of the other French delegates informed her that Tarus was finishing up with the Dutch and would be joining her shortly.
She walked into the small room and thanked the guard as he closed the door behind her. Sitting behind a polished wooden table were the five British delegates. Ginny sat down across from them and concentrated on hiding her anxiety.
"Good afternoon," she said loudly, hoping it would hide the shakiness of her voice. "I suppose I should start off by asking you what reasons you have for not wanting the World Cup to be played in France. It can't be because of the inconvenience of travel, so let's—"
"Hold on," the wizard in the center said. "We've already spoken to D'Anneau and a dozen other wizards about this. Last night, we got a message saying that he wants to speak to us again and now that we're here, all he sends is you?" He sat back with a scowl on his face. "Is he that daft? Does he think that if he sits some young, attractive witch with long, red-hair and a pretty smile in front of us that we'll all suddenly see things his way?
"I doubt he expected that," Ginny said in an even voice.
"What are you going to do? Just give us sweet looks until we change our minds?"
"Wait a minute," said another. "You're not a Weasley are you?"
"Blimey, you're right," agreed the youngest of the wizards. "You think we'll listen to you because you're that Weasley bloke's sister? I've seen worse, but I can't say you'll get much respect by mentioning his name."
Ginny felt her face coloring. "I work for the Ministry, in the Department of International Magical Cooperation—"
"Oh, the Ministry, is it? We work for the Ministry, too, you know!"
"—and I was hired to handle affairs involving Quidditch—"
"It's more likely you were hired to roll parchment, but you were the best that D'Anneau could convince to join him."
"I think you should hear me out," Ginny said raising her voice over the commotion.
The wizard in the middle of the table held up his hand to try and silence his colleagues. "I think we heard quite enough the first four times we went through this. Has anything changed? Does D'Anneau have even the smallest care for the sport when he can't use it to get him something else? Has he spent even a few hours learning the history of Quidditch?" The head of the delegation was raising his voice as well. Ginny tried to respond, but he began talking over her.
"How can you sit here and help him? Your brother plays Quidditch. You claim to enjoy Quidditch. You seem like a clever witch. How can you not see that he's just using you, and doing a bloody horrible job at it? How much has he paid you? What could he have promised—"
Behind Ginny, the door swung open with a piercing squeal. Ginny didn't turn to see who it was, but the entire British delegation was frozen in surprise.
"Miss Weasley, is everything alright?"
Ginny kept focused on the wizard in front of her. Her heart was pounding in her ears and it took all her will to keep from shouting at him. She didn't need to turn around to know who was there. Grigore Tarus's voice was both distinctive and commanding enough to leave little doubt.
"No," she said clearly.
"I see," Tarus said. "Is there—"
"The answer to his question," Ginny growled, "is no."
The wizard ahead of her gave her a confused look. "Pardon? I don't remember which—"
"D'Anneau has never cared for Quidditch," she snapped. "He's never spent any time learning about the players or history of Quidditch, and I doubt he's even had an ounce of enjoyment watching it. He's a politician."
The delegates stared at her in shock, but Tarus was unfazed. He walked over beside her and gently tapped her on the shoulder. "Excuse me, Miss Weasley. Perhaps we could discuss some—"
"In a moment," she snapped, surprising both the delegates and the Romanian Minister. She slowly stood up in her seat and glared at the head of the British delegation.
"Henri D'Anneau is just a politician. He is doing what politicians do. He's using political power to gain the favor of his people. But what are the Bulgarians doing? They're selling their power on the Quidditch pitch for political influence!"
She looked at the witch and wizard to her right. They were both former Quidditch players. "Is that so much better? Is that the true spirit of Quidditch? Are you willing to let political issues like the handling to magical creatures or the importation of dangerous poisons be decided by the wizards who have the best Seeker? Speak up if you do, because I don't think you remember just how mediocre ours is!"
Ginny stopped and took a deep breath. The room was completely silent. The British delegates were all looking at each other as if they were sharing some silent conversation.
"I see there is much we need to discuss," said the wizard in front of Ginny. "I'm afraid there will be no time to meet with you again, but I believe I understand your point of view now."
Ginny nodded weakly and sat down in her chair. The British delegates rose slowly and began filing out of the room. When they were all gone, Tarus sat down in one of the chairs on the other side of the table.
"I'm sorry I snapped at you," she apologized.
"I'm sorry I interrupted you," he replied with a laugh. It felt reassuring to hear it echoing in the small room.
"Did I ruin everything?" she asked. "I tried, I swear. I had it all planned out, but they just didn't want to hear any of it. I don't know—"
"I think you did exceedingly well," Tarus laughed again. "I spent hours with the Dutch, and you have given us the votes we needed in only minutes."
"You think so?" Ginny asked.
"I think they were expecting something a little more diplomatic, but I suspect nothing would have worked better than what you just did."
Ginny leaned forward and put her head on the table. She felt like she was going to be sick. What had she done? Tarus seemed to think she had just changed their minds. If he was right, then she had done her part. Even if France didn't win, D'Anneau couldn't say she hadn't done what he asked. He'd have to keep his end of the deal.
Her nausea slowly melted back to the uncomfortable flutterings of anxiety and anticipation. She had done it. In only a few more hours, Henri D'Anneau would help her get the answers she desired so desperately.
Ginny paced about the small room waiting for the message D'Anneau had promised to send. The later it got the more anxious she became. What could he be waiting for? The shield cloak she gotten from Fred and George was lying on the bed. She had checked the placement of her wand in her robe pockets at least twenty times. She had even stuffed some parchment and a self-inking quill into her pocket in case she might need to write something.
She walked over to the window and stared out over the city. There were torches being lit all along the street and the tops of the buildings. It almost looked like there was a party planned. Perhaps there was. As she watched torches being lit on yet another building, she heard sharp knock at her door. She ran to the door and found a rather bored looking goblin looking up at her.
"There are three wizards waiting for you outside," he croaked. "They say they were sent to escort you to a meeting."
Ginny pulled her cloak from the bed and strode out of the room. From the top of the stairs she could see the three wizards standing at the doorway arguing with five goblins. As soon as they saw her, they relaxed a little and waited for her to join them. The goblins gave both her and the wizards disgruntled glares and closed the doors behind them.
As they walked out into the street, Ginny noticed that despite the torchlight, the street felt abnormally quiet and empty. The three wizards had formed something of a triangle around her, with one leading and two walking closely to either side of her. Their pace was fairly quick and they were watching the few other wizards passing them.
"What's going on?" she asked, as her paranoia began turning into genuine concern. "Why am I being escorted?"
"It's a formality," the one to her left answered.
"It's a formality which wasn't needed six hours ago," Ginny countered.
"There was an incident this evening."
After so much experience, Ginny could tell when she wasn't being told something important. "What kind of incident?" she pressed.
"It's nothing to worry about. You're in no danger."
"If I'm in no danger, then why do I need an escort?"
"The Head of the World Cup Committee has declared it necessary until the cause of the attack can be determined."
Ginny stopped, forcing her escorts to stop as well. "You said it was an incident. Now it's an attack? What is going—"
"Quiet!" hissed the wizard in front of her. He gestured emphatically for them to move out of the center of the street, and Ginny did as he directed.
From the shadows, she watched as one pair of wizards ran down the street ahead of them. A second pair could be seen running between the torches on top of a nearby building. As she watched, faint flashes of light reflected off the brightly colored tents. She could hear the faint sound of stone crumbling and then a series of shouts as a group of wizards came running around the corner.
When they had covered half the distance to where Ginny and her escorts stood they slowed to a quick walk and called out to them. She followed the three wizards as they met up with the group ahead of them. Only the one in front of Ginny walked forward to speak with them. The others held back. Ginny turned her head slightly to listen to what they were saying.
"Is it clear?" her escort asked.
"We think so," a tall wizard responded. "They were there, but they're gone now. They didn't put up much of a fight. We think they're headed toward the palace."
"And the Committee?"
"They are all safe in their camp."
"Very well," said the wizard in front of her. "We are almost there."
Ginny looked around, and found she could just barely make out the alley which led to the Romanian camp. Just as there was earlier that day, a number of wizards guarded the entrance. Her escorts were guiding her directly toward them.
"Hold on," she complained. "I'm supposed to be going to the French camp. I need to speak with Henri D'Anneau."
"There has been a change in plans," the leader replied flatly.
They were already at the entrance to the alley. As they approached, wizards slipped from the shadows to surround them. One of them walked directly toward her. He was young, with short brown hair and light blue eyes.
"This is her?" he asked Ginny's escorts.
"That's right. We brought her here as quickly as we could."
"Any troubles?"
"No. We stopped for a moment, but there weren't any problems."
"Very well," he said stiffly. He turned and gave Ginny a courteous smile. "Good evening, Miss Weasley. If you would just follow me—"
"No," she said firmly. "I need you to take me to the French camp. I must speak with Henri D'Anneau." She was so close. She could see the French camp from where she stood. Why had they been sent, if not to take her there?
"I'm afraid that will not be possible," the young wizard said.
"Why not?"
"Henri D'Anneau is dead."
A cold chill swept through Ginny's body. The world swirled about her for a moment. It couldn't be. She felt a cold sweat breaking out across her forehead.
"No," she choked. "He can't be dead! He can't... not yet... I was—" Her voice was cut off as her throat tightened. She felt herself shivering in shock and anger. He couldn't die. Not yet. Hot tears were welling up in her eyes, blurring her vision. She had been so close. She'd made a deal and done her part. All she wanted were answers. She deserved at least that.
The other wizards were simply watching her. They didn't know how difficult it had been to make this happen. They didn't know how many hours she'd spent trying to figure out how she was supposed to find wizards who weren't even supposed to exist. They didn't know the trouble she'd caused for her friends and family or the dangers she'd put herself in. All they saw was a little girl crying over the death of one of the most loathsome wizards around.
She'd worked so hard. All she'd needed was for D'Anneau to tell her where to find the rest of the grey-cloaked wizards. Now he'd been murdered hours before he was going to tell her.
A second chill struck her. Could it really be a coincidence? What if he was killed because of what he was about to tell her? Who would want to do that? Who could even know that he was going to do it? Ginny looked up suddenly and surveyed her surroundings.
She was completely surrounded by wizards. The street was almost completely empty, and it was much darker in the area around her. Unlike nearly every other part of the street, there were no torches lit in the alley.
"Why did you bring me here?" she asked suspiciously.
"We had orders to bring you here so that—"
"Who ordered you to bring me here?"
"Grigore Tarus," the young guard answered firmly. "When he heard the news he sent for you immediately. He sent six of his personal guards to fetch you."
"There were only three."
"You only saw three," he corrected her. "We are well trained at our jobs." When Ginny did not challenge him again, he continued. "The Minister is deeply concerned. He wished to see you as quickly as we could bring you here. Will you speak with him?"
Ginny didn't know what to say. Could she trust them? Could she trust anyone? Reluctantly, she nodded and allowed the young wizard and no less than five others to guide her down the dark street toward the large domed estate at the end of the alley. Halfway between them was a large decorated arch which spanned the alley. In the shadows underneath it, another guard was watching them by a torch. As they approached it, the young guard fell back and began walking closely by Ginny's side.
"Put up your hood," he hissed at her. She opened her mouth to ask why, but he gestured for her to remain silent. "Do it," he commanded.
Ginny did as she was told. She pulled her hood over her head and kept walking. To her left, Ginny saw an abandoned shop. In the window was an assortment of magical items being sold. Standing conspicuously in the center of the display was a large case labeled in many languages. Halfway down the list, she read Quality Imported Wands. It was empty. It must have been the shop which had been robbed.
When she looked ahead again, she found they were just passing under the arch. From the deep shadows opposite the torch, a pair of cloaked wizards were walking toward her quickly, one tall and one much shorter. The young guard nodded to them and grabbed Ginny's shoulders firmly and quickly pulled her toward them. None of the other wizards reacted, they simply kept walking.
Ginny struggled and wrenched an arm free of his grip long enough to pull her wand from her robe pocket. She was quickly dragged past the two new wizards and pressed up against the far wall of the arch. She tried to scream, but he had already pressed his hand over her mouth. Ginny slowly bent her arm to point her wand at the guard's stomach. It wouldn't take much. Just a simple non-verbal spell when he wasn't looking and she would be free. Just then she realized that he was already looking away.
He was looking over his shoulder and watching the group of wizards as they emerged from under the arch. The shorter of the two wizards had taken her place, wearing a similarly colored cloak.
"Keep quiet and follow me," the guard whispered into her ear. "I apologize, but it was necessary." He looked about the alley one last time, then pulled Ginny around a corner and into a narrow space between two buildings made of crumbling masonry. He remained at the opening to the alley, scanning the alley. When he finally turned back, he found Ginny's wand pointed at his chest.
"Take me back to the Gringott's Estate," she ordered him.
"If you demand it, I will see that you are returned there safely and immediately," the guard replied slowly, "but understand that you alone will be responsible for anything that might happen afterward."
"The others said I wasn't in any danger," Ginny snapped without lowering her wand.
"And that is still true," he whispered, "—for now. The danger lies not in your company or location, but in the course of events that you will set in motion. I am sorry for the deception. It is important that you appear to go to the estate at the end of the alley, and it was not safe to explain our plan to you."
"It wasn't safe?" Ginny whispered, though she didn't know why. "If I'm in no danger, whose safety are you worried about?"
The guard looked at her as if she had asked him the color of the night sky. "The safety of Grigore Tarus. Were you not listening? There have been numerous attacks in our country. Do they not report such things in London? I am one of the Minister's personal guards, and I cannot risk his safety."
Perhaps he was telling the truth. Perhaps she could convince Tarus to help her. He might know as much as D'Anneau had. If her guess was right, the grey-cloaked wizards had been trying to help him. At the very least, he might be able to tell her where to continue looking. She lowered her wand.
"Where do we go?"
The guard smiled and walked toward her. "Truth is not always found in the light," he said in a low voice. "Sometimes, the answers to our questions are found only in the dark." He raised his arm and pointed into the inky blackness farther from the opening.
Ginny scowled at him. "I'm in no mood for riddles."
"I pose no riddles," the guard replied. "You asked where to go, and I have told you."
Ginny frowned and turned to walk into the darkness. After only a short distance, she walked under a stone ceiling and it became impossible to see anything at all. Ginny lit her wand and looked down the narrow pathway. The plaster was crumbling off the brickwork on either side of her, but there were no doorways or breaks in the wall. Some twenty feet ahead, the narrow path ended abruptly in a stone wall.
"Put away your light," whispered the guard. "Look with your eyes, not your wand."
Ginny extinguished her wand, and squinted into the black. After some time, she thought she began to see faint shapes. Only a few feet ahead of her was a patch of wall which was darker than the rest of it. She walked closer and reached out to touch it.
There was no wall there.
She searched more and found the edges of a doorway recessed into the wall. It hadn't been there when she'd been shining light at it, but she was now standing in it. There was a rough wooden door with a heavy iron handle. She turned it and pushed on the door. It opened silently. The guard followed her through the door, and closed it behind her.
The moment the door closed, a number of lamps around the room flickered to life bathing the two of them in a warm glow. They were standing in something of an old storeroom. Huge barrels were stacked along with wall, labeled with writing Ginny could not read.
"Come," the guard said gently. "We have taken longer than I expected. Tarus will be anxious to see you."
Ginny followed him through another room cluttered with cabinets, fireplaces and stoves, and eventually into a brightly lit room. A large staircase was wrapped around three of the walls, and underneath it was a bar stocked with a bottles of all sizes and colors. The fourth wall had a wide door flanked with two large windows. He had taken her to an abandoned pub. The tables had all been stacked under the staircase, and the windows had been covered.
Sitting alone at a large table in the center of the room was Grigore Tarus. He didn't look as cheerful as he had earlier that day, and he had yet to react to her appearance. The guard led her toward the table and pulled out a chair for her to sit on.
"Thank you, Josef," Tarus said. "We will need some time alone. I will call for you when we are done."
The guard bowed politely to Ginny and then walked back out of the room through the door they had entered, leaving Ginny sitting alone with Grigore Tarus. It felt like they had been sitting there for hours, silently staring at each other, when Tarus finally spoke.
"I expect you have many questions about what has happened," he said in a tired voice. "Most of these I can answer. I understand you had many other questions for Henri. Without knowing what you will ask, I cannot say how much I might be able to tell you, but I will do what I can, given my current problems. Where shall we start?"
A hundred questions had been lurking in her mind over the past hour, but none of them felt as urgent as learning about her current situation and the danger she was —or wasn't— in.
"Why did you bring me here?"
Tarus sighed. "I was afraid of the consequences of leaving you where you were. Without D'Anneau —without the answers he would have given you— I was afraid of what you might do."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Ginny asked. "What do you think I would do?"
"Henri D'Anneau is not the only one who can give you the answers you seek. Though, from other wizards, that information would have cost you much more."
"Is that why he was killed? So that I would be forced to look somewhere else?"
"Henri was a loyal colleague, but he was also an arrogant, greedy fool. He has made enough enemies to fill this room. I know you are not unfamiliar with his appetites. His petty transgressions and heedless actions have created petty enemies who are similarly heedless of their actions. Tonight, his previous luck failed him. He was found with the daughter of a very powerful Egyptian wizard from an honorable family."
Tarus rubbed his eyes and shook his head. "A group of wizards learned of what he had done and stormed the French camp looking for restitution. They confronted Henri and the girl in a corridor. He foolishly attacked them. It appears the girl was killed during the fighting. I would guess that only enraged his attackers, and they killed him."
The old wizard took a deep breath, and continued, "The noise attracted the attention of a number of guests in the courtyard. They assumed the camp was being attacked, and fought back. Another French delegate was killed, along with—" he paused to give her a sympathetic look, "—along with the head of the British delegation."
Ginny tried to ignore her shock at the death of the British wizard and focused on her question. "So that was it? It's just a coincidence that it happened now, just before we were supposed to meet?"
"I didn't say that," replied Tarus. "I said that was why he was killed. There is still the question of how anyone would discover what he had been doing. It does not seem above the Bulgarians to reveal such a thing in an attempt to discredit Henri, and yes, it is very possible that someone did it to prevent you from learning anything from him."
Ginny didn't say anything in response. She just frowned and stared at the covered windows. No matter what Tarus thought, Ginny was certain that he'd been killed to keep her from discovering something. Perhaps there was still a way.
"Who are the grey-cloaked wizards?" Ginny asked him.
Tarus frowned and stared at her. "The grey-cloaked wizards? I don't think I know what you're talking about? Where did you see them?"
How much could she say? D'Anneau had known about it. Charlie had been there, and she had assumed that Charlie had found them in Romania. She had just assumed that Tarus would know what she was talking about.
"I didn't really see them," she explained carefully, "but I know they were at the British Ministry the day—"
"—The day your brother died?" Tarus finished for her. She just stared at him in surprise. "Yes, I do know of the wizards you speak of, and I do know of your brother. He showed great bravery in doing what he did. It takes quite a bit of strength to take on such a task alone."
"But he found the grey-cloaked wizards, and they helped him. Would they help me?"
"The Brotherhood helps whoever serves their purpose at the time. They are not a force that can be wielded at will. They can be treacherous. Had your brother survived the events of that day, he wouldn't have found the Brotherhood nearly as willing to protect him from the Death Eaters."
"The Brotherhood," Ginny repeated, glad to have a proper name for the wizards she'd been searching for. "Are they the reason why you're hiding?"
"Are they the reason..." Tarus repeated thoughtfully. "In a way, they are. But I do not fear them," he said. "My trouble lies in a group of wizards who's behavior is sadly much more reliable."
"Why hide, though? Why keep it secret?" Ginny asked. "Why not tell others? Why not fight back?"
The Minister smiled at her and leaned back in his chair. "Perhaps you would understand if I explained it a different way. Your brother was a dragon handler. I explained it to him in a similar manner. You may find it even easier to understand than he did.
"Long ago, before dragon handlers had any formal training, wizards relied upon much cruder methods for capturing dragons. The dragons in my country were well known for attacking the goats and sheep of small farms. The younger dragons kept away from wizards, but the older, more powerful dragons were bolder and ranged across much more land.
"If one of them became too aggressive or caused too many problems, the local wizards would band together to capture it. Capturing a dragon is not an easy task, but necessity is a strong motivator. They would find something the dragon would take, usually a goat or some other animal. They would cast a powerful curse on it which would petrify the dragon when it touched the thing. They would then hide nearby and wait.
"Sometimes it would take only an hour. Sometimes it would take weeks. Eventually, the dragon would take the bait and be struck with the curse. It would never fully petrify the dragon. Usually it would paralyze a leg and some portion of its wing —just enough to keep it from escaping. The wizards would gather around it and subdue it.
"It was a dangerous and violent process, often killing wizards and starting horrible fires in the forests. Respectable wizards no longer use such methods. Dragons do not enjoy being trapped. They struggle and fight, even when facing overwhelming odds. Yet some wizards, those who care little for the world around and only about their own desires, find such methods easier than trying to try more reasonable approaches."
Ginny felt slightly confused. "I don't think I understand," she told him. "If you think someone is trying to trap you, then why not announce it to the world?"
"For the same reason that the ensnared dragon does not roar. If it were to call out to the skies, other dragons may come, and what would become of them? The wizards would sense the attack and kill them all."
"Just like the wizards who attacked Henri D'Anneau," Ginny commented.
"Correct. Henri did not perceive the trap that had been set about him. He decided to fight, and behold the result. He was clever and shrewd, but he was never a powerful wizard. Imagine the consequences if something similar were to happen with a stronger wizard... or a stronger witch."
Ginny's eyes darted toward Tarus's face. "Who are we talking about now? You, or me?"
Tarus smiled. "In nature, there are often two answers to any question."
"Both of us, then?"
"Is it so surprising?" Tarus asked. "You must have sensed something of the trap set about you. You meant to ask Henri about it tonight. He would have given you the answers you wanted, and the trap would have sprung before it had been prepared. When plans fail, wizards become irrational and unpredictable. I do not know what would have happened, but I feared for your safety. That is why I was forced to come here."
"You came here because of me?"
Tarus nodded gravely. "Your brother's death was a horrible tragedy. He was a great wizard, as are you. I promised him I would do all that I could to see that you were protected from this. He feared for his family, but you most of all." Tarus stared down at his hands for a moment, staring at his fingers as they opened and closed into a fist. "I have done what I said I would, and I have only barely avoided being caught in a snare of my own."
"Who is doing this?" Ginny asked. "Is it this Brotherhood? All I wanted from them is information."
"No, no," Tarus answered. "For now, they have no reason to attack you. There are many wizards who pose a greater threat to you, but there is still hope," he said. He sat up and looked into Ginny's eyes. "There may come a time very soon when I will need your help. You supported Dumbledore when he stood against Lord Voldemort. Will you help me?"
Ginny stared back at him for some time. What was he asking? Was there another Dark Lord? Voldemort couldn't have come back. He was gone. They were both gone. Weren't they? A heavy silence fell in the room. If another Dark Wizard was gaining power, Voldemort's wand would be a potent symbol of his power. Ginny remembered the thief from the Ministry. He had moved with the confidence she remembered of a young Tom Riddle. If he was going to try and follow the same path, she would stand in his way.
Ginny looked up, and was about to reply, but stopped when she heard muffled shouts coming from outside. Tarus held up his hand, signaling for her to remain quiet. The shouts got louder. One rang out louder than the rest.
"HALT!"
A number of voices shouted in response and a faint flash lit up the cracks around the door and windows. Wizards must have broken into the alley. Tarus understood this as well. He slowly stood up and quietly pushed his chair back.
"You must go," he whispered. "Do not worry about me. You must leave. Return to London as quickly as you can."
Even as Ginny stood up, she heard a creak as the handle of the door began to turn. It didn't open, and an instant later, the door shook violently. Ginny pulled her wand and began backing toward the door to the kitchen. There was an eerie silence as she waited for some sign that the danger had not passed.
Suddenly, the door shattered and tumbled to the floor in splinters. A pair of wizards slipped into the main room, but one of them dropped a second later when a red beam struck him in the chest. Tarus leaped behind the table as another pair of wizards jumped through the door. Ginny raised her wand.
"Stupefy!"
Another red beam of light lanced through the dim room and struck one of the wizards. As he fell, Ginny realized that they were not wearing the same sandy colored robes everyone else had been. They were instead a dusty grey.
"He's here!" one of them shouted.
"Go!" Tarus shouted as he ran for a small door behind the bar.
Ginny turned and ran through the door and into the kitchen. Should she try to find Tarus? Did he know another way out or was he just trying to distract them? It didn't matter. She could only find two doors. One led back to the main room, the other led to the storeroom and the entrance she'd used to get in.
"Where did the girl go?" a voice shouted. "Go! Block off the exits and find her!" Seconds later, she heard the sounds of heavy boots walking quickly toward the doorway.
Needing no other encouragement, Ginny ducked and ran for the storeroom. As she entered, the lamps flared to life, sending a shaft of warm light into the kitchen. She grabbed the door and slammed it shut. She ran to the far wall, but found that there was no door.
She began to panic. It had been this room. There was no other room for her to run to. Where was the door? Then, seizing on the only idea she had, she pointed her wand at one of the lamps.
"Finite Incantatem!"
The lamp faded, but nothing else happened. She wanted to scream. The footsteps were very close now. They would reach the door in just seconds. She jabbed her wand at the door and locked it just as someone on the other side tried to open it. It would buy her only a few more seconds. She took aim at another lamp, but before she could say anything, the room was plunged into darkness.
Had it worked? Ginny ran her hands across the wall and found a wooden door where the cracked plaster had been. She frantically searched for the door handle. When she finally found the cold metal ring, she tugged on it and wrenched the door open. Behind her, the door to the kitchen flew open and a wizard stepped into the store room. She dove through the door, but wasn't fast enough. She felt a hex slam into her back.
The impact threw her against the stone wall of the passageway, but she was otherwise unaffected. If she got out of this, she would never be able to thank Fred and George enough. She ignored the pain in her ribs and lunged for the door. Before she'd pulled the door completely closed, she aimed her wand through the crack.
"Inflamare!"
One of the barrels on the wall burst into flame, spilling dark burning liquid across the floor of the room. She yanked the door closed and cast a quick locking charm on it. With luck, the fire —or the light it provided— would keep anyone from following her.
She took a moment to try and decide what to do. She couldn't hear anyone in the alley, but there was no way to know if anyone had been left to keep watch. While she contemplated how long she might be able to remain hidden where she was, she felt the ground and floor shudder. Whoever was inside was trying to get out. It didn't matter if anyone was watching. It was her only way out. She started to run away but stumbled as the doorway exploded.
Suddenly, the narrow passageway was lit with an ominous red light, and to her horror, Ginny saw a second wizard standing not ten feet from her. Unlike the others, he wore a black cloak and a scarf over his mouth. He wasn't moving toward her, but his wand was already pointed at her. She started to raise her wand, but she wasn't quick enough. A red beam of light struck her shoulder and bounced off, but sent her tumbling to the ground.
She looked behind her, hoping to find some other way to run, but instead she saw the shape of a wizard silhouetted against the flames. Before she could even think, a jet of blue sparks was headed directly toward her. She tried twisting away, but it ricocheted off her ribs, sending hot pain through her chest and back.
She was trapped. Her cloak had been hit three times. It wouldn't take much more. She had to get to the alley. That was the only way out. Summoning all her strength, she pushed herself back on her feet just in time to hear the wizard between her and the alley firing another hex at her.
She flattened herself against the wall and watched as the sparks shot past her, within inches of her face, yet still missing her completely. There was a loud cry from the end of the passage. The curse had struck the other wizard. Taking her one chance, she crouched down, jumped forward and drove her shoulder in the stomach of the nearby wizard. With a satisfying grunt, he stumbled backward and slammed into the wall viciously. Ginny stepped around him and ran for the alley.
When she broke out into the alley, she dodged behind the first corner she could find. A quick survey of the area revealed no other wizards either watching or guarding the alley. She took a deep breath and headed for the main street as fast as she had ever run.
She didn't stop until she reached the street. She hadn't heard any footsteps running after her, and when she turned to quickly check, she found the dark silhouette of the wizard dressed in black standing in the middle of the alley. He was not following her and he wasn't calling for anyone else. He just stood there, watching her. Maybe he was waiting to see just what she would do.
He's not like the others, Ginny realized. He wasn't dressed in grey like the others. He had been waiting right where she had been headed. He wasn't shouting or passing commands. He knew what was happening. He knew because it was his plan.
Ginny looked up the street toward the palace. That was her quickest way out, and he would know that. They would be waiting for her. Her cloak had taken three direct hits. It was doubtful it could take another. There was nothing magical about the robes underneath it. Even if she ran, she would never make it.
She needed to go back to the Gringott's estate. She had an extra Shield Cloak and a set of Shield Robes in her traveling chest. With them, she might be able to last long enough to make it into the palace. She looked back down the alley but found it completely empty.
The sudden disappearance of her pursuer was disconcerting. Where had he gone? Was Grigore Tarus alright? Even if he wasn't, there wasn't anything she could do about it now. She'd never be able to stand against that many wizards, certainly not without a working Shield Cloak.
She pulled her hood up and ran as quickly as she could, slowing to a walk to catch her breath occasionally. When she reached the Gringott's estate, the goblins let her in without a single world. She leaped up the stairs and walked quickly to her room. She quietly opened the door and slipped into the darkened room. Her traveling chest was still at the foot of the bed, but it was no longer her main concern. She was much more interested in the wizard standing by her window and pointing a wand at her with a slightly unsteady hand.
"The hood," he said in a low voice, "take off your hood."
There was something oddly familiar about him. She thought she'd seen him before. He couldn't have been one of the guards. He was obviously not used to threatening another wizard with a wand. Also, he was wearing the dusty tan cloak of a convention wizard not the grey cloaks of the Brotherhood or the black cloak of the dark wizard in the alley. Whatever he was here for, Ginny felt confident that she could protect herself from him. Slowly she reached for her hood and pulled it back.
The wizards arm dropped limply. "It's you," he whispered. "You're here.."
"Of course I am, this is my room," Ginny shot back. "Why are you here?"
He ignored her question, walked to the door and looked about the corridor outside. He then closed the door and began looking around the room as if someone might jump at him at any moment. As he walked about, Ginny caught a flash of purple robes trimmed with gold, and she suddenly remembered where she'd seen him.
"You're— You're one of the Romanian delegates, aren't you?"
He turned and nodded. "You may call me Stefan. Is he with you?"
"Who? Grigore Tarus?" Ginny asked. "No, we were split up. Wizards attacked us—"
"Never mind that. You must come with me," he told her urgently. "We must leave as soon as we can."
"I'll be fine on my own, thanks," she told him, "but you might want to find someplace safe to hide. It looks like someone is attacking everyone connected to the French delegation, so—"
"No, you don't understand! It's you they're coming for."
"No, they don't care about me, it was Tarus—"
"No," Stefan interrupted sharply. "They had been watching and waiting, but no longer. Believe me when I tell you they are hunting you at this very moment. You must have done or heard something to cause this."
"No," Ginny protested. "I didn't do anything! I was supposed to meet with D'Anneau, but he's dead. I spoke with Tarus, but he hadn't told me anything important. They attacked and I defended myself, but that's it. I didn't' do anything else."
"You must have," Stefan said with finality. "Quickly now. Fetch whatever it is you foolishly returned here to fetch and we must get you out of the city as quickly as possible."
There was something odd about his voice which convinced Ginny he was telling her the truth. If she had to trust someone, he seemed to be the safest choice. She grabbed the robes and cloak she'd returned for and stepped into the closet to quickly change into them. When she came out, he was staring out the window into the darkness below.
"I swear I haven't done anything to upset them. If they're chasing me now, it's only because I escaped them before."
"I will not argue with you," Stefan replied. "I know only what I see. If it is as you say, then perhaps all we must do is escape the city. If you are wrong, there will be few places where you will be safe."
"What about Tarus? Shouldn't we try to find him?"
"No. Tarus will be fine. Do not worry about him."
"Why not?" Ginny hissed. "How is he in less danger than we are?"
"I assure you, Grigore Tarus is no longer in any danger," Stefan said with finality. "It is almost certain that he has already returned to Romania. He is a more capable wizard than he appears."
Ginny tried to appear as calm as possible as she led Stefan out of the estate and past the goblins. They said nothing to her, but eyed him warily. As she stepped out into the night air, she pulled her hood back over her head. She had hoped the black cloak would help her hide, but it was obvious that was not going to be possible. The area was brightly lit with a large number of lamps and torches.
"They lit them while we talked," Stefan said. "They are watching us now, but they will not attack while we are so close to the estate. Keep your wand ready."
They walked into the street and began slowly heading back up the street. Torches were lit all over, flooding the street with yellow, flickering light. "How are we supposed to get past the alley to your camp?" Ginny whispered. "There must have been twelve wizards there and all of the guards were gone."
Stefan looked tense. His eyes were scanning the buildings around them. "If we can make it to the alley, then I believe we will escape," he replied. "I'm afraid that you were wrong. We are being hunted. By the palace at the other end of the street, there is a large gate in the wall. It is closed and locked now, but there is a postern door twenty yards away. If we reach that, secrecy will not be needed, and we can burn it to cinders."
"Then what? Why are we any safer on the other side of the wall? They didn't have any trouble getting in. Who's to say there aren't a hundred of them waiting on the other side?"
"I do not believe that is the case," Stefan replied. "Once on the other side, we could make our way to the Gringott's bank. There is a place I know of where we will be safe. There is some risk, but it is acceptable. There is a fireplace in the bank which can take us there."
"If we're going to use the Floo, why not just use the one in the palace? We can go to the British Ministry."
"Did you learn nothing after the Quidditch match?" he hissed. "What could possibly make you believe that they cannot follow you there? Or that they are not there at this moment, waiting for you to arrive? Do you think they're going to go back to just following you around and waiting for you to stop off at the pub?"
Ginny stopped and stared at him. "How do you know about all of that?" Stefan turned and started walking back to her, but Ginny raised her wand and backed away. "I thought Tarus sent you. How could you know all of that, but not know your Minister had been attacked? Why were you waiting for me?"
"Please, we must keep moving," Stefan pleaded. "I will tell you everything I know if you come with me right now."
"Who sent you?" Ginny growled.
"Follow me and you will see. You don't understand. It's not what you think."
"I'm going to London. I don't care where you go."
"No, please!" Stefan shouted. "You must know. He's here. He's—"
"Expelliarmus!"
Ginny heard the incantation, but couldn't react fast enough. Her wand was wrenched from her grip and sent sailing into the night air. It landed well beyond reach, under a nearby torch. When she turned back to Stefan, she saw another wizard striding toward them.
"Avada Kedavra!"
There was a blinding flash of sickly green light and a rush of wind. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness again, she found Stefan's emotionless eyes staring at her as he dropped onto the dusty street.
They had just killed him. He'd hadn't done anything. He had done even less than she had. Ginny watched in shock as the wizard strode forward and delivered a vicious kick to Stefan's ribs.
"Filth!" he shouted at the corpse. Then he looked up and aimed his wand directly at her. "You just stay right where ye are, lass. There's been quite enough escapin' for one night."
Ginny stared at the wizard in front of her. She couldn't see his face, but she could tell by his voice that he was British. He was wearing the same dusty grey cloaks as the wizards who had attacked Tarus. She couldn't help but think of what Tarus had told her. He had said he was afraid of leaving her where she was. Did he know they would eventually attack her if she returned to the estate? Stefan must have known, and now he was dead. Why should she think she would end up any different?
The wizard hadn't killed her yet. If that was their plan, why was he waiting? He's waiting for help, she realized. It was just as Tarus had described. They'd lured her there and disabled her. The other wizards were closing in right now. She had to act while she only had a single enemy. The cloak will protect me, she told herself, the cloak will protect me.
She turned and ran for her wand. When she was almost there, she dove for it, hoping her captor would not be prepared for that. He was and she felt a curse bounce off her cloak, though it felt like she'd been punched in the ribs. She grabbed her wand and twisted on the ground to look at the wizard.
When the second curse came, she was able to cast a Shield Charm to block it properly. This only angered the wizard more, and he snarled as he took aim for another try. Ginny got to her feet and started backing toward an empty shop behind her. She needed to put some distance between her and the wizard.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a twinkle of green light coming from the top of one of the buildings. A moment later, she heard the faint sound of wind blowing through trees. She realized what was happening just in time and dove back toward the center of the street. The door of the store she'd been heading for shattered in an explosion of green sparks. The other wizards had arrived, and they didn't seem interested in simply capturing her anymore.
As she struggled back to her feet, she heard a series of loud explosions, followed by the roar of a heavy wind. She could see it coming. It was tossing debris down the street and extinguishing all of the torches and lamps. The wind knocked down the British wizard, and but Ginny cast a Shield Charm just in time to avoid the worst of it.
The wind died down almost immediately, but it seemed it had accomplished its purpose. The street was left in complete darkness. Ginny could barely see little more than shadows and faint outlines, but she could still hear the wizard as he slowly walked toward her. If she didn't move, he'd find her. Before he could get any closer, she ran away, hoping to give herself more time to adjust to the darkness.
"Stupefy!"
Ginny saw the red beam bounce of her hip and took note of the location of her attacker. However, she was not the only one watching, and a second later, a jet of green light struck the street only feet from the cloaked wizard. In the flash of light as the stone shattered, she saw the wizard recoiling in fear. An insane plan formulated itself inside her head.
She ran toward the wizard, slamming into him before he realized she was even nearby. With one hand, she grasped his robes as tightly as she could and with the other, she pointed her wand at the source of the last Killing Curse.
"Incendio!" she shouted.
Before the glowing ball of fire had crossed even half the distance to its target, Ginny saw a flash and the ominous green twinkle of the wizard's deadly response. She pulled her wand arm back and grasped tightly onto the wizards robes. She pulled herself as close to him as she could manage, then closed her eyes and hoped she hadn't made a horrible mistake.
The wizard she had grappled onto didn't understand what was happening. For a second he struggled with her, trying to pull her hands from his chest. "What in bloody hell do you think—"
With a flash of green light and a rush of wind, his voice was cut short, and he fell forward. Ginny's plan hadn't really extended that far, and now she found herself trapped beneath the wizard she had just used to protect herself. As she attempted to heave his body off of her, the ground around her lit up with a harsh yellow light. A Flare Charm, she told herself, They're checking to see if they just did what they thought they did. Perhaps it was best that she was still hidden under his body. Ginny waited for the light to fade. Once it was dark again, she could slip away before anyone else showed up.
The darkness returned and Ginny began slowly pulling herself out from under the wizard. As she pushed him onto his side, something heavy fell from inside his robes and struck her hand, making her wince. She quickly finished freeing herself and dashed off into the shadows. After a minute she still saw no sign of any more wizards. Either they were regrouping, or they were preparing another ambush somewhere else.
Ginny's mind kept returning to the Brotherhood wizard lying dead in the street. She hadn't cast the curse, but had she killed him? If she hadn't tricked the other wizard, he would still be alive. It didn't sound all that different from pushing a wizard in front of a curse. Even more disturbing was instinctual, efficient manner in which she'd done it. It has simply felt natural, and that thought made her feel ill.
She looked at the empty expression on his face. He was British, probably Scottish, or from Scottish parents. He had killed Stefan. Did that make what she did alright? Had she just given him justice? What if he had some reason for doing what he did? She wanted to find out more about him. Why had he joined them? Why had he killed an innocent man?
She crept forward and found his body lying right where she'd left it. It was too dark to see his face properly, but she wasn't so daft as to venture any light at the moment. He'd been wearing something around his neck, a medallion or crest of some sort. Perhaps it was a family heirloom of some sort which she could use to identify him.
She felt around his neck and found two heavy chains. One of them held nothing, but the other had something heavy on it. Ginny reached around his neck, unclasped the chain and drew it out. She walked back to the shadows and tried to get a better look at the necklace. She inched a little farther from her hiding spot so some of the faint moonlight could strike it.
The chain was made of large interlocking oval rings. It was not light or elegant, but it wasn't excessively heavy either. It merely did its job. In the center, however, was a talisman of some sort. It consisted of a single ring which seemed to pass through three equally spaced spheres which were only slightly thicker than the ring itself. It was too large to be worn on a finger, and not nearly large enough to be a bracelet, but quite heavy. It was probably made out of a single piece of gold.
As she ran her fingers over it searching for any engravings or markings, a shadow passed over the small object. Ginny turned and found a large dark shape looming over her. She jumped back and fumbled in her pocket for her wand. Before she could find it, the wizard standing over her had his wand out and pointed directly at her. Ginny remained crouching and staring at him, waiting for the flash of green and the sound of her approaching death.
It never came, instead he extended an arm to point at the talisman, then held out his hand as if to ask her to give it to him. Instead of doing as he wished, she clutched it tighter and slowly stood up. Perhaps the only reason she was still alive was because she was holding it. Of course, it hadn't protected its previous owner very well, but it was all she had to work with at the moment.
Slowly, Ginny started backing away from the wizard and drawing him back toward the center of the street. In the dim light, she could finally see his black robes and the black scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face. He didn't say anything to her, but slowly inched closer and closer. Before he could get close enough to grab it from her, Ginny tossed the talisman off to her right. The wizard in black turned to see where it landed, and Ginny sensed her opportunity. She lunged forward and grabbed his wand hand. After a short struggle, she ripped the wand from his hand and threw it down the street. He let out a enraged shout and ran after his wand.
Ginny turned and ran in the opposite direction. There was a narrow alley not much farther down the street. The outline of a number of trees rose over the roofs of the buildings. That should mean there was an open courtyard. If she could reach the courtyard, there would have to be another way out. Wherever that was, it certainly couldn't be any more dangerous than her current location. When she reached the entrance to the narrow alley, she turned back to the street. The wizard in black was just picking up his wand. Ginny aimed her wand and focused as much as she could.
"Accio Talisman!"
A few seconds later, the talisman slammed into her free hand, sending spikes of pain through her arm. She groaned in pain as she ran down the alleyway. It was much narrower than she had thought and it was littered with bricks and bits of wood. Ginny ran as quickly as she could, hoping that she would find somewhere to turn before she was struck in the back with another curse.
Just when she was about to give up and look for some other way out, a wide opening appeared to her left. She jumped behind the corner and listened closely for footsteps. There were none, but she didn't want to take her chances. She seemed to be in a long empty space behind a walled courtyard. The trees she had seen from the street were still ahead of her. She jogged through the dark, trying to watch the area ahead of her for ways back onto the main street while trying to listen for any sign that she was being followed.
After a short time, she came to the wall which seemed to surround the large courtyard that held the trees. She attempted to jump up and pull herself over the wall, but found that her legs barely had the strength to keep her standing. A few quick spells revealed that the wall had been charmed to resist most of the simpler spells and she didn't dare use anything that might cause any noise. Instead, she searched the area for anything that could help her climb over the wall. Finally, she found a discarded crate. Stepping on top of it, she was able to pull herself over the wall.
She looked around. It wasn't really a courtyard. It looked more like an empty marketplace. She ran along one of the paths, trying not to think about the burning sensation that was growing in her legs. There was a wide opening to her left, but she decided to keep following the market paths. She could see the tall tower that marked the center of the palace. She was closer than she thought. If she was lucky, she'd completely avoided quite a number of angry wizards.
The marketplace came to an end, but there was no exit onto the street. Instead, there was a large building with a number of wide gates. Ginny slowly made her way toward them. All of the gates were open, and the large hall which separated the marketplace from the street was brightly lit and completely empty.
As Ginny cautiously stepped inside, she told herself that there should be guards there. They had all left. Or they had been attacked. Ginny approached the gates to the street carefully. Only one of the gates on the street side was open, and as she stepped closer, she could hear voices. Maybe the guards hadn't left.
"Well, where did Hamid go?" one of them said. "He and Tamar left to investigate some explosions and they haven't returned. If nothing has happened, what did they hear and where are they now?"
"I assure you, it is nothing," another explained with a faint German accent. "There are security wizards swarming all over the streets. The Egyptian wizards don't know the World Cup security wizards, and nobody knows these Romanians prowling about and twitching at every shadow that moves. It's no surprise everyone turned on each other when these foolish wizards from that poor girl's family slipped past the guards."
"If it's nothing, then why have the patrols not returned? Why did an official report that there was another death at the far end of the street?"
"I was there all night," the other wizard announced. "I only left a few minutes ago. There was no attack."
Ginny felt a chill run down her spine. At best he was a liar, but it seemed much more likely that he was a member of the Brotherhood who had been sent here after the first attack failed. He wouldn't be the only one. They must have been waiting for her to come here.
"How many died in the French camp?" the guard asked.
"It's hard to say. D'Anneau and the girl for certain. One of the British delegates as well. Maybe another one of the French wizards. Some claim that a number of the attackers died, supposedly wizards from the Sebiti family. I didn't see any of them, though. Someone said they went and attacked the Romanian Minister after that. They must have thought that he had some part in setting it up."
"What about the girl?"
"The pretty one?" the guard asked, "The one D'Anneau supposedly liked so much? She was supposed to be in the French camp, but no one's seen her. She might have run off already."
"She couldn't have left," the other wizard said. "Have everyone search for her. We have to find her."
Ginny slowly backed away from the gate. She wouldn't be able to trust the guards either. She knew she wasn't far from the palace. Once inside, she might find plenty of places to hide until things calmed down a bit. First, she'd have to get there. There were wide corridors at either end of the hall. Those seemed to be her only option, so she picked the one that would take her closer to the palace.
After what felt like hours of sneaking past open doors and hiding from wizards who didn't really exist, she finally reached a small lobby with a polished marble floor. A large desk stood in the middle of the room, and an old wizard was sitting at it and scratching away at a roll of parchment. He was alone. He was the first wizard she'd seen or heard since listening to the guard at the gate.
She casually walked toward him with her hands in her pockets, one of them clutching her wand tightly. When she almost halfway to him, he heard her and twisted in his seat.
"Pardon me, but this area if off limits," he announced in bored voice.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Ginny apologized sweetly. "I guess I'm a bit lost. I was looking for the large palace building at the end of the street."
He frowned at her. "Well, it's through those doors and right across the street, but it won't matter. This whole area of the city has been closed off. You should head back to your camp. If you'll just show me your identification, I'll call a couple guards to escort you."
"That won't be necessary,"
"Oh, but it is," he replied sharply. "Just how did you get in here?"
"Stupefy!"
The wizard slumped forward, then slipped off his seat and tumbled to the floor. Ginny walked to the door, and pulled it open just enough for her to get a look at the street. It was mostly empty. She could only see a single guard at the palace gate. She was almost out. She had no choice but to return to London, no matter what Josef had said. Even if twenty wizards were right on her heels, she felt confident she could reach the fireplace inside the palace.
She walked out the door and began walking quickly across the street. Her wand was out, but at her side. When the guard spotted her, she'd have little time. She was halfway across the street and he didn't seem to care yet. As she passed under the shadows cast by the tall tower over the entrance, the guard finally took notice of her.
"Stay where you are!" he shouted. "The Shetiri Estate is closed to—"
"Stupefy!"
The wizard dropped to the stone floor and Ginny broke into a run. As she slipped through the doorway, she heard shouts coming from the street. Before the door closed, a spell struck it, ripping it from its hinges and tossing it into the street. Ginny pushed herself to run faster. She turned quickly and found the long corridor which she'd been led down when she first arrived. As she ran past the small halls, she saw wizards standing and pointing.
She had almost reached the end of the hallway when the first hex struck her back. She stumbled for a moment then slipped around a corner. She ran forward a short distance, then jumped into a small closet and closed the door. She listened as a number of wizards ran past the door, then walked back and started shouting at each other.
"It wasn't my imagination, Ileana! I know what I saw. I hit her with a hex. I have used the same spell on Hippogriffs. She should have fallen where she was."
"Well then, where did she go?" asked the voice of a witch. "It's not like the palace is filled with red haired witches. You know what he'll do if she escapes again."
"Then we should go and look for her instead of standing here while you babble. She's probably wearing a charmed black cloak. It can't protect her from everything."
"No Killing Curses!" the witch snapped. "He said she's not to be killed. Not yet, and not by you."
Ginny didn't know if she should be happy to know that they weren't supposed to kill her. Being captured sounded like an equally horrible fate. The wizards said nothing else, and the sounds of their boots echoed in the corridor outside.
She knew she wasn't far from the fireplace. In some ways, that made it even more difficult. She'd never be able to use it if they were always only a short distance away. She needed a distraction. She looked around the cramped closet for anything that might make enough noise to draw them away.
Her eyes locked on something much better. Reluctantly, she took off her cloak and tossed it around a broken coat stand in the corner. The cloak probably only had one good shield left in it. She wished it was more, but she might need her robes. She took a moment to massage her legs. If it worked, this would be the last bit of running she'd have to do for a while.
She pressed her wand against the coat stand and concentrated. Suddenly it shuddered and leaped forward. Seconds later, it was dancing around the closet frantically. She quickly opened the door, then closed it as soon as the coat stand had galloped out of the room. It ran down the hall, heading back in the direction Ginny had come from. To her delight, it was followed a few seconds later by the heavy footfalls of booted wizards.
She waited for them to turn the corner, then opened the door again and ran out of the closet in the opposite direction. Her legs were on fire, but she kept running. She made a right turn and then a quick left. She remembered the heavy rug from the previous day. She was just about there. She could see the doors in front of her. Taking no chance, she aimed her wand.
"Reducto!"
The doors splintered and broke open, and the sound echoed down the corridor behind her. They would hear that and know what happened. She dashed into the room and started frantically searching the mantle for a cannister of Floo powder.
"We cannot let you leave!" a voice shouted.
In a single motion, Ginny turned and aimed her wand. Standing just beyond the broken doors was a middle aged witch with rather severe features. The witch simply chuckled.
"You don't have your cloak anymore," she said with a laugh. "Even if you stop me, you'll not stop the others. They will be here within seconds."
Ginny spotted the Floo powder. It was in a jar which had been sitting on a table near the door and had now rolled under a table. Whatever she was going to do, she needed the powder.
"Accio jar!"
The jar zipped toward her. Just as she caught it, she felt a sharp pain in her chest as a ball of blue sparks struck her chest and bounced off into the ceiling, sending stone raining down onto the floor. Suddenly, she knew what to do. She pointed her wand back at the door.
"Reducto!"
The ceiling exploded and huge chunks of rubble cascaded down into the open doorway, sealing her in. She quickly opened the jar and took a handful of Floo powder in her left hand. In her right hand she clutched her wand. She aimed her wand at the fireplace and it blazed to life.
She stared at it and wondered where she could go. Stefan had been right. They probably would be waiting for her at the Ministry. She needed someplace else to go, but if she picked anyplace else, they would simply follow her. The witch was already blasting her way through the stone blocking the doorway. Perhaps there was something more permanent she could do.
After a few deep breaths she tossed the powder into the flames which flared bright green. She stepped onto the hearth and aimed her wand at the ceiling.
"Reducto!"
As the first blocks of stone fell, Ginny jumped into the flames and shouted: "Diagon Alley!" The roar of the fire mixed with the rumbling of the room falling down around the fireplace. Suddenly, she found herself being tossed out onto a hard stone floor.
She was covered in dust and soot and she seemed to be bleeding from a deep cut on her arm. Several small chunks of stone had made the journey with her, but she doubted anyone would be following her.
"Ginny?" a familiar voice called out. Ginny pushed herself off the floor and found Albert staring at her in shock.
"Hello, Albert," she said weakly.
"You're back a bit early, aren't you?" he asked casually. "I suppose that's probably a good sign, right? Would you care to share a drink over it?"
Ginny stared at him. "Not tonight, Albert. I've got someone— er... I think I'll just head home."
"You do look a bit tired around the eyes," he said with a smile. "Come on, I'll walk you out."
Albert helped her to her feet and let her lean on him as they walked out into Diagon Alley. "I'll just Apparate from here," Ginny said. Albert had always been so nice to her. She wished she could tell him the truth, but that would only put him in danger. If she was going to endanger anyone, it might as well be someone who was used to it.
