Harry was beyond angry.
The expression on Ginny's face goaded him up the stairs, battering at him, confusing him. His intention was to seek this answer from Dumbledore: Fawkes was needed. Arnold was hurt badly (though Harry thanked Merlin that Ginny had been wrong); Harry did not see how the little pygmy puff could survive without the phoenix. And while this certainty had sparked this flight up the moving staircases, the image of what he'd walked in on, and the way she'd flinched from his touch, filled him.
Her flight was born of the need to find someone to save Arnold. Harry didn't think she'd stopped to process what had happened. He thundered by moving portraits.
"Professor -- what's happening?" shouted a wizened old wizard, who had followed him halfway down the corridor.
Harry ignored this. Roughly pushing past students, the sick fear in his belly grew even worse. Please don't let her have been raped, he prayed. But she'd flinched when he'd tried to comfort her, and Harry could only think that meant something awful. How could it not?
A vision of Pollux fucking Sennet rose up in his mind. His dick had been out; Harry had seen it, pointing straight at his Ginny, as though he could take by force from her what she had freely given Harry.
Almost there.
He needed to see her. He needed to be running toward the gates beside her. Arnold needed to survive, and Harry had to wrap his arms around her, just like he had after Christmas. Instead, he was running toward Dumbledore's portrait. The horrible feeling flew by portraits and students; with each step he took it grew worse. Burning had been too quick, and Harry ached to have been the one to kill him. Not Ginny.
"GET OUT OF MY WAY!" he bellowed. A seventh year Gryffindor lurched toward the wall, narrowly missing being run down.
It seemed almost surreal that he was here at Hogwarts. Whenever he blinked, he kept expecting to find the spacious, opulent rooms of Malfoy Manor. It was so close, and so vivid in his mind. The sitting room strewn with bodies, a fourteen year old Ginny pale and silent like a ghost, Voldemort's red eyes flashing. Harry wished that he'd been forced to view Sennet's torment, whatever it was.
It was worse, not knowing what had happened to her.
Half-formed questions swam around in his head. As he made his way steadily closer to his goal, his mind flitted from one to the other without him even fully thinking them. What happened to her? Why was she--? Why had his touch been so unwelcome--? Why had that fucker even touched her... he had to have known I'd kill him...
It was clear to Harry that he should have followed up on his suspicions about Sennet. He'd never liked the way Sennet had watched her. I should have done something, Harry thought, acute pain filling him. He'd failed her again. Not only as her boyfriend, but as her professor.
It was with surprise that he found himself outside the office of the headmaster. Panting for breath, he leaned up against the wall, holding himself up. His heart was threatening to leap out of his chest.
"Professor--?"
Harry shook his head, whispered the password, and followed the moving staircase up to the heavy wooden door. Anger pushed him through it, though Harry was hard-pressed to decide who he was more furious with: Sennet or himself. There was an outcry from the portraits at his entrance; Harry spared a fleeting glance around the room, enough to notice that Flitwick was not there, before he turned his attention to the portrait behind the desk.
"I need your help," Harry said. His voice echoed strangely in his own ears.
Dumbledore's portrait looked shocked to see him. "But--"
"I don't have time," Harry cut him off, pointing.
"What do you need?" the portrait asked quietly. The painted blue eyes were calm.
"Fawkes," said Harry. "I need -- I need phoenix tears." Swallowing hard, Harry added, "Please. You must have some idea where to -- where to find him."
Shrewd eyes pierced him. "Is it Miss Weasley?"
"No -- yes," Harry said. "Yes. Dumbledore... please."
"It won't be easy," Dumbledore warned.
Harry closed his eyes briefly, seeing Arnold, and the look on Ginny's face. After all she had suffered, Ginny did not need to lose the one little innocent life that had been her only source of comfort for three long years. Arnold was so precious to her... "I'll do anything," Harry said firmly.
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The moment Molly Weasley saw her daughter running up the drive as though she was being chased by something horrific, something unseen, she was transported back to the night when Ginny had returned from Malfoy Manor. She stood, paralyzed, staring out the kitchen window, as the memories swamped her.
Arthur had just returned home from another long day at the Ministry.
"Arthur, let me take your cloak," she said, gently removing it from her exhausted husband's body.
"It was another awful day. I--"
But Arthur never finished his sentence.
The bang on their back door shattered the quiet night. Molly reeled back from it, suddenly terrified, thoughts of Death Eaters already whirling through her mind. Arthur shoved her behind him, his wand fixed on the door. Her wand was already out, held in trembling fingers.
"Declare yourself!" Arthur said loudly.
"I'm a healer from St. Mungo's, I have your daughter!"
For one frozen instant, Molly's eyes met Arthur's. It has to be a trap, Molly thought, but how could they refuse to open the door? What -- why--
"Let me in. She's dying!"
But Ginny was as safe as she could be in these dark times, wasn't she? Safe at Hogwarts... protected by her status as a pure-blood. A soft whimper reached her ears, muffled though it was by the heavy door, fortified by all the spells that Bill knew how to cast.
That's Ginny, Molly thought. She was sure of it.
Even as she had the thought, Arthur was already opening the door. Molly kept her wand raised high, ready to attack if this really was not a healer. A thousand scenarios crashed through her mind at once. A Death Eater trap... they'd grabbed Ginny from Hogwarts...
But the truth, Molly saw, was far worse than she'd thought it was. A tall man held a small redhead in his arms. His face was not lit with menace, but he looked confused and worried.
"What--?"
"Step back, Molly," Arthur said, sounding genuinely frightened.
The healer stepped out of the dim light of the porch, and Molly gasped when she more clearly saw her daughter. Her face was bruised, and a trickle of blood came out of her mouth. "No," she whispered.
"Molly! Step back!"
Molly finally moved, pressing herself up against the wall, letting the healer pass. Arthur gestured toward the sitting room, white-faced. The healer strode forward, and Molly and Arthur followed.
"What the fuck happened?" Arthur demanded, sounding furious and almost undone. His eyes traveled over his daughter's body -- she was wrapped in a cloak much too large for her. As the healer settled her onto the sofa and waved complex charms, a bare leg was revealed. Her head lolled back on the cushions... she's so pale...
If it weren't for her eyelids flickering, Molly might have thought she was dead... she was ghastly white against the dark fabric.
"I have no idea," the healer muttered. "Harry Potter dragged me out of St. Mungo's... he says You-Know-Who is gone..."
The words washed over her. "What was she doing with Harry?" Molly asked. "Where's Ron -- Hermione?"
The healer didn't have an answer for her; instead, he drew back Ginny's borrowed cloak, revealing her daughter's naked body. Her stomach was dark and bruised -- the bruises were almost purple. Other small, half-healed scars dotted her body. But they look so old,Molly thought. Her brain felt fogged and unable to function properly, and she couldn't doanything... just stand there with countless questions racing through her head...
"This will be the most difficult," the healer murmured. "I've brought a potion with me -- she'll need it, but it'll make her very confused when she first wakes up. I wouldn't want to do this, not with everything else--"
"What everything else?" Arthur asked. He stood at the head of the sofa, staring at Ginny's face.
The healer was silent for a long moment. "Potter said she's been raped," he said gently. "He led me to believe that it was more than once, and I expect there's been trauma..."
The memory left as swiftly as it came, but Molly was frozen for seconds longer, taking in the details of how Ginny looked as she practically flew toward the Burrow. The cloak she wore was much too large for her, and trailed on the ground behind her. She had it gathered up in one hand. It had pulled open to reveal the tattered, bloody remains of her school uniform blouse. As she neared, Molly saw that her face was bruised... she'd been hit--
"ARTHUR!" Molly screamed, whirling away from the window, finally galvanized into action. Belatedly remembering that Ron and Hermione were there. "RON! HERMIONE!"
Footsteps clattered down the stairs -- it sounded like a small herd of hippogriffs were coming toward her, but Molly ignored this. She flung open the door, already running to meet Ginny. She didn't say a word.
"Mum -- get Fred -- George," Ginny panted.
"What happened. Ginny, what's--"
"No time!" Ginny yelled. Her face was streaked with tears. They flowed steadily out of her eyes. "It's Arnold--"
Ginny skirted around her, barreling toward the kitchen, stopping suddenly when she saw Arthur, and Ron and Hermione just behind him. All of them had identical looks of horror on their faces as they took in Ginny's appearance.
"Ron -- Hermione," Molly said. She pointed at the floo. "Go get Fred and George. Get all of them."
They exchanged glances, looking torn and confused, but an instant later they were rushing toward the hearth. Hermione left first, disappearing in a whirl of green flames. Ron followed, dropping the container of floo powder. It shattered on the floor, but he was already gone.
"Dad, help him," Ginny cried. "He's hurt--"
She held out Arnold toward him. The little pygmy puff was in a worse state than even Ginny, and Molly felt a sick, plummeting feeling in her belly. If Arnold dies...
But she couldn't finish the thought.
Arthur was quicker than she was to react. He already held the little animal gently in one of his hands, and carried him over to the kitchen table. Ginny sat down heavily in a chair as though her legs wouldn't hold her anymore. Tears still ran unchecked out of her eyes, and her thin shoulders shook.
"Ginny, what--"
But Ginny shook her head, keeping her lips pressed together.
Molly tentatively reached for her shoulder, but Ginny jerked away. "I'm fine, I'm fine, it's Arnold," she said. She watched intently as Arthur held his wand over the small body. He glanced over at Molly once, and an instant of understanding passed between them. Ginny loved Arnold as much as she allowed herself to love anything since Malfoy Manor... if Arnold died...
"Ginny," Arthur said gently. "Arnold is very hurt."
Molly could see that the pygmy puff was bleeding out of his eyes, and every breath seemed to take huge effort for him.
"Just keep him alive, please, Daddy," Ginny begged. She covered her eyes with her hands, but almost instantly uncovered them again. "Just keep him alive... Harry will save him... he'll do it... I know he will. All you have to do is keep him alive."
Molly winced. It was obvious to her that Ginny had suffered trauma... it was possible that she was regressing, that she was overcome by dark memories, and thought that Harry would come, the way he had at Malfoy Manor. "Are you--"
But she didn't finish the sentence. George tumbled out of the floo. "What the--"
"It's Arnold," Arthur said intently, still staring at the violet pygmy puff. "He's been hurt. It's bad, George."
George knocked him out of the way, bending over Arnold. He looked up at Molly, and gave his head a slight shake.
"No!" Ginny said loudly. "Don't shake your head like that! All you have to do is keep him alive, I swear, Harry will be here."
George looked at her, eyes devoid of any humor whatsoever. He nodded once, and Molly could kiss him for somehow understanding that Ginny needed to believe that Harry would be there for her once again... there was no harm in allowing her this small comfort...
Fred arrived next, and then Bill, Percy, Remus, and even Tonks, hugely pregnant though she was. Molly ignored the exclamations that filled the room. Please don't let Arnold die... please. Her fingers itched to heal her daughter, but the set, intense look on Ginny's face kept her from it. Her eyes followed every move that George, and now Fred, made.
Kingsley arrived next, followed directly by Ron and Hermione, who both looked shaken and sooty. "What happened?" Kingsley asked in his deep voice. "I've just heard word from Hogwarts--"
"Please," Ginny said. "Just a little while longer. Harry will be here..."
Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. Molly drew back, mouth opening to ask if they'd somehow managed to contact him, wondering if his presence would help or hinder Ginny.
But Hermione spoke before Molly could. "Are you sure he'll be here?" she asked gently.
Ginny whirled on her, hair flying. "Of course he'll be here," she said viciously. "I know he will."
"If he blames himself for whatever happened--"
Ron's words were cut off by a loud bang. Fire blazed suddenly. Molly let out a gasping scream and stumbled backward as flames erupted in the center of the kitchen, flaring suddenly and without any warning at all. What -- no--
But the fire died as abruptly as it had appeared. And where it had been just moments before stood Harry Potter, bared forearm dripping with blood, and grasping the magnificent plumage of a phoenix.
HPHPHPHPHPHP
Remus took two large steps backward in shock at Harry's sudden, dramatic entrance. Dora followed along with him, letting out surprised squeak, gripping his fingers convulsively, and keeping him upright when the counter nearly tripped him up.
It was not only them that found Harry's arrival sudden and inexplicable. Molly sat down heavily in a chair, her mouth hanging open. Bill swore loudly and banged into the wall so hard that he sent a small clock tumbling to the floor. The face broke, sending the hands flying around. One bounced off Percy's foot. Percy, however, did not appear to notice; the usually unflappable Weasley had an uncharacteristically dumbfounded look on his face. Slack-jawed, he stared at Harry.
Kingsley, true to form, betrayed no other sign of surprise than a raised eyebrow.
In Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George, however, Remus found quite a different reaction. They appeared more relieved than anything. Hermione even had her hands covering her eyes, and was thanking God, Merlin, and others quite fluently.
Steeling himself, Remus looked at Arthur. In truth, he was afraid to see anger, blame, or hatred… Arthur's feelings about Harry were a large enough question mark that Remus wondered if Harry would be welcome here at the Burrow. Even now.
But Arthur's face expressed only shock, before it quickly fell into the familiar, blank look.
"Fawkes," Harry bit off. Remus jerked his attention back to Harry just in time to see him point at the small pygmy puff. "Heal him."
The bird the color of the flames that had just appeared and disappeared so quickly stretched its large wings, and glided over the heads of Fred and George, who had to duck in order to avoid being cuffed, and landed on the table. It was not so graceful as it hobbled forward, talons digging into the wood. Fawkes peered down at Arnold, eyes large and bright... and growing brighter.
A single tear from the phoenix dripped into Arnold's panting mouth.
"It has to work, it has to," Ginny moaned.
Remus realized that she alone had been completely unsurprised to see Harry, as though the elusive, guilt-ridden boy made these sorts of appearances every day.
"What the bloody hell is going on?" Bill thundered.
"Harry, what happened?" Ron asked. "Ginny hasn't told us anything—"
"I – but – you," Molly stuttered. She sounded quite undone.
"It's all right, it's all right," Hermione murmured. "It's all right. It's all right, isn't it, Harry?"
"Harry…" Remus said, but let his voice trail away. He had no idea what to say, and soon everyone was talking over him, asking questions. Even Kingsley…
Harry ignored all of them.
His attention was focused solely on Ginny. It was as though, to him, she was the only living, breathing person in the room. And Ginny sat – looking very small in the large robes – watching Arnold. A small, midnight blue ball of fluff jumped onto the table and in an odd, rolling type run, scampered over to Arnold. Remus recalled it from Christmas… his son had called it Puffy…
"Is it working?" Dora asked tentatively.
But she had her answer when Arnold's bloodshot eyes returned to their natural color. His tiny body slowly stopped quivering uncontrollably, and his breathing eased. Ginny let out a quiet sob. Arnold blinked a few time, and let out a shaking little squeak. The other one, Puffy, chirped back at him, tentatively.
"Thank God," Ron said, heartfelt.
"Yes, thank you," Ginny whispered shakily. Her face was almost bloodless, and the livid bruise was stark on her face. Her gaze was still fixed on Arnold, and her lips were trembling. "Thank you so much… Harry… Dad…"
Neither Harry nor Arthur breathed a word.
A thousand different expressions crossed Harry's face and somehow seemed to meld together. The closest Remus could come to describing it was how he himself felt right before the full moon turned him into something less than a man: anguish, terror, and fury. Anyone with eyes could see that something horrible had happened, but the look on Harry's face caused a sick lurch in Remus' belly.
"Ginny, love—"
"I'd like to know what—"
"Who the hell did this to you—"
"How the hell did you even know to come here, Harry?"
The Weasleys could no longer remain silent, and the clamor rose to a dull roar. For a while, it even masked the fact that the windows rattled dangerously in their frames. Remus turned, brow furrowing, and stared at them. It was as though they were being pushed by a large wind somehow inside the Burrow. Even as he watched, a small crack traveled the length of a pane.
"Tell us—"
"I killed him," Ginny said fiercely. But as he turned his attention back to her, her face crumpled. "I – I – I killed him," she repeated, and her entire body began to tremble even as she rubbed harshly at her nose. "I can smell – it's the – I can still smell it--"
Harry was at her side so quickly that Remus could hardly believe that someone could move so fast. A conjured bucket appeared at her feet, just in time. She vomited into it, the contents of her stomach making a splattering sound on the bottom.
"Ginny…" Molly moaned. "Who did you kill, baby?"
But Ginny was heaving still. Harry leaned over her, holding her hair away from her face. Though his actions appeared gentle, tender even, his face was still set in harsh lines, and the rattling only grew louder. One hand moved to Ginny's back and rubbed it. Long moments passed; everyone, Remus included, looked on with breathless, horrified silence.
"Remus, what do you think happened?" Dora whispered so quietly that no one else heard her.
He shook his head.
"I hope it wasn't…" But she seemed unable to finish the thought.
"Harry, you'd better tell us what's going on," Bill said warningly.
"Bill," Ron snapped.
"I just want to know what the hell happened," Bill said loudly. "Where was Ginny? Why wasn't she at Hogwarts -- again? How did Harry know to be here? And why is our sister bloody and bruised? And why the hell did she have to kill someone?"
Ginny pushed herself off the chair, face bright red, strode over to cupboard and grabbed a glass. She filled it with water from the sink and drained it in a few gulps. Keeping her back to everyone, she clenched her glass so tightly that her knuckles went white.
Harry remained where he was seated head in his hands for a moment, before he too got up. He stared at the back of her head.
The moment she straightened her spine, he spoke, as though that was the cue he'd been waiting for. "What happened?" he asked in a low, tight voice.
"You don't even know?" Ron asked, flabbergasted.
"I know what I walked in on," Harry said darkly. "Ginny," he said again.
"Harry, I—" she began.
"Did he rape you?"
"Not again!" Dora was the first to react.
"She'd better not have been – that's – I—"
"Ginny!" The name practically exploded from Harry's lips, immediately silencing everyone else in the room. "Just tell me what the fuck happened." He put his hand down on the table, and it broke into jagged, splintered pieces.
Harry ignored this. "Please," he said in a quieter voice.
"He didn't," Ginny turned to face him. "I swear he didn't. Couldn't you tell? He—"
"He had his trousers down—"
"But he wasn't—"
"—And his revolting dick pointed straight at you—"
But the interruption this time did not come from Ginny. All the windows in the kitchen did what they'd been threatening to do since Harry had arrived: They shattered, and blew out into the night.
"You are out of control," said Percy, barely moving his lips. "You need to—"
"He needs to bloody well stay away from Ginny until he can," Bill said. Remus' eyes widened when he saw that he'd drawn his wand. Shit. His own wand drawn, he took a quick step forward as Bill continued, "He's acting like he's bloody in love with her—"
Ron smacked Bill – hard – on the back of his head. "What gave you the first clue, you moron?" he shouted.
"But he's—"
"Stay away from him, Bill," Ginny glared at him.
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Ron felt bad for his oldest brother, he really did. And he knew that Bill wasn't about to curse Harry, which was why Ron didn't disarm him. At the most, Bill would have put up a shielding charm. But even with Harry's accidental magic all out of control, Ron knew that the last thing he'd do was hurt Ginny.
He felt the need to make this painfully clear to everyone. After casting a fleeting glance at his father, who was gaping at Harry and Ginny along with the rest of them, he said, "Harry would never hurt Ginny."
"Not intentionally," Bill defended. "But he's got things breaking and windows flying apart all over the place—"
Ron smacked him again. "Harry died for her—"
"RON!" Harry shouted. "This isn't about me!" His hands were clenched in tight fists, and he was breathing heavily, as though he'd just run from Hogwarts and back.
Strangely, Ginny seemed to grow calmer, and no longer shook like a leaf. "Harry," she said quietly. "He didn't rape me."
"And you wouldn't… you wouldn't lie to me, would you?" Harry asked. A hint of vulnerability shone through under all the tension in his voice, and Ron had to look away. He turned, instead, to Hermione. She stared straight back at him, and he saw everything he felt reflecting back at him.
How much can two people take without breaking? Ron asked himself. Unless he missed his guess, Harry was right on the verge. Glass clacked together ominously in the cupboards, and the longer Ginny remained silent, the worse Harry looked.
A small, very cold hand slipped into Ron's, and gripped it so tightly that his knuckles cracked.
"He's losing control," Hermione breathed.
"Yeah," Ron agreed, just as quietly. "And we have to let him."
"I know," Hermione replied.
"Tell me," he said. "Tell us. No one here is going to think you've – that you have anything to be ashamed of." His words were obviously meant to be comforting, but they sounded like a bit of a threat.
Merlin.
"I…"
"Ginny, Harry's right," his mum said gently. "If anything – if anything happened, you don't need to—"
"It was my fault," said Ginny. "I—"
"Don't blame yourself," Harry interrupted her, shaking his head. "Don't. Just… don't."
"He didn't rape me," Ginny said again, voice shaking. Her eyes were wide. "But I should have told you. I should have… I was stupid…"
"Method told me," Harry said, taking a step backward. "He told me – how could you have—?"
But his words were swallowed up by a loud clamor. Percy was demanding to know --immediately -- what was going on. Remus and Dora whispered furiously together – at one point Dora looked over at Ron, and he could tell that she'd figured it out.
"But what does this mean?" his mum asked. "And why – what are they doing together?"
Hermione murmured something, but Ron couldn't figure it out. The twins had pulled Bill over to the side along with Kingsley, and were explaining things in quiet, rapid voices. It was unusual for Ron to feel like the only pocket of silence in the room.
Except for his dad.
Ron's stomach clenched. His dad was watching Harry very carefully; he'd picked up a broken piece of the table, and was clenching the wood tightly in his fist.
And Harry… Harry was way too – something – to even notice that most of the people in the room were talking over each other. He seemed almost totally unaware that he was at the Burrow, surrounded by Ron's family; under the circumstances, Ron couldn't blame him. It probably didn't help that he had a gaping wound in his arm. But Ginny was aware enough that she had an audience. Her eyes flickered back and forth from Harry, to random points on the wall, to the rest of the family.
Ron whispered a spell, and a loud, piercing siren immediately cut through the multiple conversations. Deciding that simplicity was the best here, he said, "Harry is teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts. Yeah, they're together. Yeah, they're in love. Now," he paused, flicking a glance at his dad, and then turning to Ginny. "Ginny, tell us what happened."
To his surprise, she actually did. "I had to make up a potion after class," she said. "And – I don't know where Slughorn went—"
"He was in a meeting with the rest of us," Harry told her, jaw clenched. "Professors."
"—And Sennet"—her face twisted up in a grimace—"came in. I didn't – didn't have my wand out." No one said anything when her pause lasted almost two minutes. Ron was afraid to breathe too loudly; Ginny had never spoken so calmly about Malfoy Manor. "He… he… knocked me over and used the Imperius Curse—"
"The Imperius?" Kingsley asked, deep voice gentle. "Did he—"
"No," Ginny shook her head, straightening her shoulders. "No – he couldn't… I broke it. And then he tied me to the table—"
"That fucker," Ron muttered.
"What the hell was he thinking?" Harry asked loudly, voice cracking like a whip. A single cup teetered on the edge of the cupboard, finally toppling over and shattering. Out of the corner of his eyes, Ron caught his dad looking at it, face drawn in tight lines.
"What do you—?" Ginny began.
"He must've known that I'd kill him for touching you—"
"I don't think he—"
"The world knows that I killed everyone who touched you," Harry told her. "And that was before… before us."
"The world doesn't know that we're together, Harry—"
"Everyone at Hogwarts knows you're mine," Harry said in a hard voice. "Why the hellwould he have even gone near you?" Ron smelled something burning, and realized that scorch marks on the floor radiated away from Harry's feet.
Ron turned his attention back to Ginny; no one else appeared to be even breathing. Her eyes were wide as she stared at Harry; her mouth was set in a firm, closed line. She gave Ron a fleeting look, and shook her head.
"He had to have known that I would have killed him."
"He – he – I don't think…"
"Ginny—"
"Harry, you're scaring her!" Percy said in a loud voice.
For the first time, Ron noticed that everyone had ranged themselves in such a way that made him unaccountably nervous. He now stood almost directly behind Harry; the twins had moved closer, and Remus and Tonks were closer still. Percy, Bill, and his parents were behind Ginny. A sense of foreboding filled him when he realized they were perfectly positioned to—
"He is not scaring me!" Ginny flared up at once. The knots in Ron's belly eased when Percy made a face, but backed off. But he couldn't deny that Percy had a point. Wariness bruised her eyes.
"I need to know," Harry said. There was a note of anguish in his tone, underneath the barely controlled fury.
Ron took a deep breath, wanting to look away – whatever Harry was feeling suddenly seemed private. He didn't think he'd ever seen such a combination of vulnerability and protectiveness, and it was something only Ginny should see.
"I have to know what he said… what he did… how he hurt you," Harry continued. "It's worse, not knowing."
Instead of answering him, Ginny turned away suddenly and moved several feet away, where the pygmy puffs gamboled around carelessly, blissfully unaware of what was going on. We've lost her, Ron thought with a sinking feeling. She was scooping up Arnold gently in her hands and doing what she'd done for years: using him to avoid thinking, or feeling anything difficult.
Not that he didn't blame her, but how Harry would react to this, he had no idea. "Ginny—"
But he cut himself off when Ginny stood up again, and stepped over to Harry. She placed Arnold in his hand, whispered something Ron couldn't hear, and backed away. For the first time since he'd arrived in a swirl of flames, Harry took his eyes off of her for more than a few seconds.
"Sennet – he saw us in Hagrid's hut the other day," Ginny said quickly, her cheeks scarlet.
Ron shifted uneasily; he could guess what that meant, and he was shocked that Bill didn't interject. It didn't help matters that the burning smell was growing worse, filling his nostrils. There was no visible reaction from Harry, and he did not look up from Arnold.
"He thought – thought that you were just… like him," said Ginny. "That it was – that it was something you… "
"Is that what you think, Ginny?" Harry asked. Ron could only see the back of his head and part of his profile. But for the tightening in his shoulders, Harry seemed totally calm. Too calm.
"The curtains!" Hermione hissed, pulling her hand out of his grasp. Ron tore his eyes away from the scene in front of him, only to find the drapes around the non-existent windows had gone up into sudden, furious flames.
It was Kingsley who put them out, though Hermione had moved to help him.
"Of course I don't think that," said Ginny.
"Then why did you flinch?"
"What?" Ginny asked blankly.
"You flinched," Harry told her. "When I tried to comfort you, you pulled away from me. Just like you did after Voldemort died."
Looking over at the twins, wondering if they felt the same trepidation that Ron did. George had his good ear turned out toward the conversation, obviously not wanting to miss a word. Fred met his eyes and gave his head a jerk, as though asking if they were going to stop it somehow.
Ron shook his head.
"I didn't mean to," Ginny said. "I was just... Arnold... and--"
Even though Ron could hear the raw truth in her words, Harry obviously wasn't satisfied. He spoke as though he hadn't heard what she'd even said.
"If you think he was telling the truth, then I'll leave--"
"I think I know the difference between being cherished and being raped, Harry!" Ginny shouted. There was very real fear on her face -- Merlin knew that Harry was quite capable of leaving, he'd already done so once -- but it quickly hardened. She pointed a finger at him. "Don't you dare try to leave me, I will drag your arse back so quickly--"
"All right, I--"
"I know where you sleep," she added dangerously.
Inexplicably, Ron felt the wholly inappropriate urge to smile. Now isn't the time, Ron, he told himself, trying to sound -- in his own head -- as much like Hermione as possible. But despite the gravity of the situation, Ginny sounded the way she used to. Ron had about a thousand memories of her threatening to retaliate for pranks and teasing while he was sleeping.
Harry seemed slightly mollified by her threats, and he nodded sharply, running his hand through his already untidy hair. "Right, I... sorry," he mumbled. "I just... did anything else...?"
Ginny shook her head. "He was just... making his potion," she told him, sounding mystified. "I -- he was saying things, but he didn't actually do much of anything."
"Thank Merlin," his mum said, sighing deeply. "Thank Merlin," she repeated.
"I'm all right, Mum," Ginny said, turning slightly. She then looked back at Harry; her smile was tremulous, but it was there all the same. "I really am. I'm not going to let this loom over me, Harry. It isn't going to be like... I'm not going back to how I was." Her back was straight and her shoulders square. "If I flinched, it was just... stupid. But I'm not flinching now. And I won't."
Ron thought this was a very large hint that Ginny wanted Harry to hug her, but Harry did not seem to catch it. In direct contrast to Ginny, Ron watched as Harry's shoulders hunched just a little.
"I'm grateful," said Harry, with obvious effort. "I don't think you realize how glad I am that you're safe, that you weren't hurt even worse. But I -- I feel like I'm right back at Malfoy Manor again, like something out of my absolute worst nightmare, like it was happening all over again."
"Harry--"
"You were even next to a table, just the way I found you," Harry continued, as though Ginny had not tried to interrupt him. "I had to give you my cloak, just like last time. You flinched away, just like last time. You were hurt, bleeding, and it was exactly like every nightmare I've had for the last four years. And I don't... understand why you aren't feeling it a thousand times worse than I am."
Ron resisted the urge to cover his eyes, and couldn't help but notice that his family seemed just as transfixed, just as horrified, as he felt. Fred and George stared resolutely at the ground, both looking like they wanted to Apparate directly away. Percy had taken his glasses off, and his hand was pressed tightly against his temple. His mum still sat in her chair; she'd started to cry, silently.
Even as Ron watched, the broken piece of the table that his dad had grabbed turned into dust.
Harry's raw words pierced through them all. Ginny's experience had been discussed over and over again, yes. But it was different, hearing it from Harry, who had actually been there. His words evoked images that made Ron want to blow up another tree... possibly even several... and made him wish that Harry had spared just one of her rapists -- either of the Malfoys, or Greyback, Ron wasn't picky -- so that Ron could've killed him.
"I was never given a chance to defend myself," said Ginny, closing her eyes briefly. "Today, I was. And I did. I didn't, didn't, mean to kill him. It's good to know that I could protect myself, and I did, even though I knew you'd come for me."
"Ginny," Harry said, voice anguished. "You said that then, too--"
"And I wasn't mistaken, was I?" Ginny asked sharply. "You were there at Malfoy Manor, and you were there today--"
"You stood in front of Voldemort the day you were captured and told him that I'd be there for you, that I'd rescue you--"
"I need a little help over here!" Kingsley's voice boomed out. Ron glanced over: the drapes were all aflame. Remus hurried over.
"You did rescue me!" Ginny said loudly.
Harry shook his head. "Too late. I was too late today -- you shouldn't have had to kill him -- and I was too late then. Two months too late. When have I ever been someone you can count on? I never--"
"Harry," Ron said, unable to stand by silently any longer. He stepped forward and clasped Harry's shoulder, squeezing tightly when Harry meant to throw him off. "I don't understand why you keep blaming yourself for... everything."
His dad stepped forward; Ron realized with a sense of frozen horror that he had his wand drawn. "I understand perfectly well why Harry blames himself, Ron," he said. His words dropped like stones in the otherwise quiet. "If you thought about it, you would too."