Ginny came to awareness slowly. She was in a soft, warm bed. A window was open, she could taste salt on her lips — she was near the sea? There was a hand entwined with hers... someone was snoring...
"Harry?" she whispered.
He woke up with a jerk. "Ginny!" He whisper-shouted. "You're awake!"
"Where'm I? M'head hurts," she muttered. Even as she spoke, though, the pain receded.
"We're at Shell Cottage, Fleur just finished patching you up... says you'll be right as rain in an hour. I'm sorry you had to wake up before you were completely healed." Harry stroked her fingers, looking rueful. "Let me catch you up... apparently Moody used the focus to make it so you couldn't go home again... that's what blew you back, and also probably why you haven't even tried... or even thought about going to the Burrow, damn the man." He said all of this quickly and angrily. "Bill thinks they were all cursed not to look for you... everyone is right hacked off — not at you! Bill says—"
"Bill can speak for himself," said Bill. Ginny turned her head, wincing at the pain. He slouched in the doorway, and looked rather angrier than she'd ever seen him. The scars left by Fenrir Greyback stood out in sharp relief.
He moved further into the room. "Sorry — just got back from looking around the Burrow for a secondary focus. I had to leave — my thoughts were getting muddled. Anyway, Ginny — words can't even express how very sorry I am." He came and knelt on the other side of the bed, and Ginny was reminded of all the times he'd done this exact thing when she'd been little.
"I understand," Ginny said hoarsely. "It was the curse."
"I was so angry with you," Bill said. "So unfairly angry... I said those terrible things..."
"Don't say you're sorry," Ginny said warningly. "It's too late. I've already forgiven you. Moody, on the other hand..."
Bill chuckled a little, and both Harry and Ginny pretended not to see his eyes were wet. He leaned forward and kissed Ginny's forehead, then swung a glance at Harry. "No closets," he pointed at him. "Not until she's fully healed."
Harry stammered a bit as Ginny and Bill laughed.
Ginny winced once Bill left the room. "Laughing hurts," she said in a small voice. Everything ached, really, but it was getting measurably better.
"The focus?" Ginny asked.
Harry looked grim. "Not Bill, your parents, or Ron. Bill is going to contact Charlie, but he doesn't seem very hopeful. It's looking bad, Gin, like one of the twins was the focus. And Bill says it's nearly impossible to break a curse off a dead person... it's why the blood curses are banned."
There was a sharp ache in Ginny's stomach. "So what do we do?"
"We pray it's Charlie," said Harry.
Ginny's brow furrowed. "What of Percy? We ought to at least check him, don't you think?"
Harry gaped at her, and let out a huge breath. "Percy," he said. "We forgot Percy!"
"And we know he's at the joke shop," Ginny pointed out. It really was convenient how much better she felt already. It no longer hurt to breathe, and the dull roar in her head had subsided into a mild whimper.
Harry leapt to his feet. "I have to—"
"—help me up from this bed," Ginny finished for him, giving him a good glare.
"Help you up from this bed," sighed Harry. He did exactly that; he pushed the covers back, and pulled her into his arms. Their eyes met, and heat sprang up between them. He lifted her up, and carried her out of the room, still watching her.
Harry carried her all the way out the door, and down the stairs. Ginny thought she just might be able to get used to this.
Ginny kicked at the swinging door, revealing the sitting room. Everyone was there, it seemed: Remus, Tonks, Ron, Hermione, Fleur, Bill, and some of Bill's old school friends. "Rowan! Eleison!" Ginny cried. Another familiar face peeked at her. "Tulip!" She glanced at Ron, and grinned wickedly. "Are you still afraid of Rowan and Eleison, Ron?"
Ron chewed his snack and swallowed with great dignity. "I was never scared of them," he said.
"Rowan, Eleison, and Tulip are old friends of Bill's — and Tonks — from school," Ginny said in a low voice. "They were in Slytherin, and Ron was an idiot. Thought they were going to hex him. Although Charlie might've been the one to put that in his head... just wanting to have a laugh..."
Harry nodded. "I met them earlier, but no one really explained who they are..."
"Rowan's a healer, specializing in mental magic, and Eleison and Tulip are Curse-Breakers... Eleison's pretty renowned in Russia for her work..."
Harry nodded. The others chatted.
"Ginny had a thought upstairs," said Harry. "We've been worried — what if the focus is one of the twins? Then how could we perform any sort of ritual that could break it. We never even found their bodies..."
"And we still may have to consider that," Ginny pointed out, "awful as that may be. But we all forgot about Percy."
There was a splash and a thud: Ron had knocked over his goblet of water. Bill slammed his fist on the couch. "God damn it, Percy," said Bill, as though it was Percy's fault his family had nearly forgotten him.
"Let's not get our hopes up," Hermione cautioned.
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Despite Hermione's misgivings, Harry's hopes were very much up. Of course it's Percy, thought Harry. Moody had not been nearly as paranoid before the twins died — he hadn't started his strict regime until after their deaths. "He probably came to Moody, wanting to join the Order," Harry spoke his thoughts out loud. "That's when Moody would've done it."
Ron gave a great snort. "Sure, like Percy would've done that."
"Percy was on the Ministry's side, remember?" This came from Ginny.
But Harry was just as stubborn as his Weasleys. "Yeah, and Ginny was too young to join the Order, she never would've, and she was too hacked off at all of us to come home after the war," he said, voice heavy with sarcasm.
It was so clear to him, he did not understand why the others could not see it. Percy was a Weasley. And if there was one thing he'd learned about Weasleys, it was that they'd get mad at you, they'd stomp away to nurse their wounds, they may even stay away for months... but they'd always come back. Percy must not have been any different. Harry said this out loud.
"Harry Potter is right," said Tulip.
"Damned if I'm getting my hopes up," said Bill.
"Well? What are we waiting for?" Ginny demanded. "We've got to at least try!"
Despite the rush, it took nearly thirty minutes before everyone but Fleur (who needed to stay with the baby) trooped into the kitchen and gathered around the small fireplace. Ginny'd had to change into something of Fleur's, and Harry thought she looked quite lovely. Bill doled out fistfuls of Floo powder.
One by one, they went into the flames, and one by one, they came out at the Leaky Cauldron. Bill'd already opened the brick wall up to Diagon Alley, and they marched through, giving old Tom a wave in passing. They moved swiftly up the cluttered street. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was dark, though a candle burned in a second story window. Harry's gut clenched.
Bill rammed on the door. "PERCY!" he shouted.
There was no answer, but Harry thought he might have heard something drop.
Bill pointed his wand and blasted the door open, apparently too impatient to wait a moment longer. Harry was on his heels as they swept through the deserted store, and into the back room where they found the stairs.
They were halfway up when Harry smelled it: a mix of sweat and vomit, as though someone had been very sick for a very long time. He had a moment of misgiving. Was Percy—
Bill shouldered the door to one of the apartments open, and stopped short. Harry bumped into him.
It was not a pretty sight.
Percy — fastidious, tidy Percy — lay on a rubber sheet. He was nearly naked, shivering, and surrounded by filth. Lit candles gave him a greenish, skeletal look. Harry looked on with horror.
"Oh God," said Ginny, beside him.
"Tried... to clean," Percy said, his breathing labored. "Hoping for company." With what appeared to be great effort, he tilted his head and jerked his chin toward a large stack of books. "I... need help. Those... books."
"We're going to help you," said Hermione. "We know all about what Moody did to you — Bill's going to break the—"
But Percy was frantically shaking his head. "Do it... the right way," he said as fiercely as he could. "The ritual. Ease it off... breaking it... will kill me."
Hermione grabbed the stack of books and sank into a corner, already reading, and apparently unmindful of the mess. Harry felt slightly superfluous as the others got to work. Bill, Tulip, and Eleison argued near the head of Percy's bed. Rowan knelt at Percy's side, and brushed his curly red hair, wet with sweat, off his forehead.
Ron, Harry, and Ginny sort of just stood there awkwardly.
Tonks sidled up. "I've decided I'm suspending the training program for one month while we get this figured out," she murmured. "I've already spoken to Kingsley. You, Ginny, and Ron are needed here, with your family."
Harry looked at her, feeling a sudden infusion of gratitude. Thank god it was the weekend; all thoughts of training Aurors had flown quite out of his head.
"Yes, I expected that," Tonks nodded sharply. "You and Ron are excellent instructors, but this is more important at the moment. A month off to fix this, and then training will resume."
"Thanks, Tonks," said Ron, heartfelt.
"Well, I think we know enough to get started," said Bill. "We'll start here, and then transfer him to Shell Cottage during a break. Eleison, Tulip, and I will need privacy for what we need to do… the ritual is pretty intense."
Harry opened his mouth to complain, but shut it at Bill's stern look. "All right," he said meekly, a step behind Ron and Ginny. Hermione merely unfolded herself from the floor, and took the stack of books with her. They wouldn't need privacy for very long. How long could rituals take, anyway?
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A week later, Ginny was at her wit's end. Percy'd been at Shell Cottage for three days, but the three Curse-Breakers had been firm that they were not to interfere in any way. "It's terrible," she'd overheard Bill tell Fleur. "It's almost all out of him, but God. What Moody did to him…"
The four of them took turns talking incessantly, and then disappearing for hours at a time for heated, desperate sex. At least, she assumed that was why Ron and Hermione disappeared every once in a while. Otherwise, they were together constantly.
She and Harry had just returned from his cottage, when Bill emerged from Percy's room. He looked grey and old; his werewolf scar was red and ugly looking, and Ginny could see it throb. The ritual had taken it out of him. When he saw her, he nodded. "It's done," he said in a flat, exhausted voice. "And… so am I," he stumbled down the hall, toward the master bedroom. Ron and Harry darted forward, and held Bill up between them, helping him walk.
Ginny was no longer able to wait, but pushed the door open to Percy's room. Hermione was right behind her.
"Is he awake?" Ginny whispered.
Ron and Harry came into the room and shut the door. The man on the bed looked little better than he had above the joke shop. Frankincense still hung heavy in the air. Ginny's eyes burned from it. "I think he's still asleep," whispered Hermione. "Maybe we should—"
Then, to everyone's shock, Percy opened his eyes. "The first thing… I have to… the twins. They're alive. Moody… hid them. They're alive. The twins are alive."
And as though he had exhausted everything in him by getting those words out, Percy sighed a great sigh, and slipped into a deep sleep, leaving the four to stare at him.
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29 July 2000 – 30 July 2000
"We have to find them!" Ginny said with great emotion.
Hermione looked up. Her neck ached and her head spun, and the way Ginny was pacing like a caged lioness did not help either of these physical pains. She glanced over at Harry. His back was toward her, and his knuckles were white where he gripped the windowsill. Hermione longed to point out that they did not know for certain that the twins were alive, but she bit her tongue.
We don't know they're still alive! Hermione wanted to scream. It seemed like such an impossible thing, that Fred and George had not died three years ago. A dream, not a fact. All they had was the word of Percy, who had nearly just died, and had God only knew what done to him by Moody "for the greater good".
Unfortunately, Hermione was the only one of the four that seemed aware of this.
"We will find them, Ginny," Harry said in a low, fervent voice.
Hermione hid her grimace and rubbed the back of her neck. It wasn't that she didn't want Fred and George to be alive; she did. But she was afraid of what would happen to the people in this room if they turned out not to be. Ginny, whose jagged edges had mostly softened since she and Harry fell in love, looked as though she might break at any moment. Her friend's face was pale and her hands shook; was Hermione the only one who saw it truly? They were so caught up in hope that Ron, Ginny, and Harry were blind to the danger.
"I don't care what it takes," Ron said as though echoing Hermione's thoughts.
Despite herself, Hermione felt a little burst of warmth as though a miniature sun had exploded inside her. In the space of a single instant, she saw the years since she had first boarded the Hogwarts Express march by. How often had these three people proven their courage again and again? Harry, hunted by the darkest wizard in living memory, had prevailed even when he thought he must die. Ron, whose bravery had only deepened since their first year, really would do anything to find his brothers. And Ginny would do the same.
The agony of indecision gripped her.
"If I knew they were still alive," Hermione whispered under her breath.
It took a few seconds for her to realize that her chest was very tight and it was difficult for her to breathe. This claustrophobia was no less awful because she knew the cause. Hermione had known the moment Percy had mumbled "the twins are alive"; she'd just been reading that vile Dark Arts book… the one Moody had used to set up his blood curse ritual…
There was, of course, a way to find Fred and George.
The problem was that it was a method written in blood. How could she possibly trust such a thing… but how would they ever forgive her if she didn't say anything? If she didn't say anything, right now?
"And what if we do find them? How do we unscramble their brains and give them their memories back?" Harry asked. Apparently, the conversation had raged around her while Hermione had been lost in her dark thoughts.
"That's easy," Hermione said without thinking. The three turned to stare at her. As Hermione watched, Ginny grabbed Harry's arm and squeezed tightly.
"Easy?" Ron echoed.
"The potion isn't hard to come by," Hermione said. "It will restore their memories to them. Although," she added thoughtfully, "it isn't so much that their memories need to be given back to them. That spell on St. Mungo's didn't take them, you see? It just scrambled them. Rowan Khanna and I were talking about it yesterday at Shell Cottage… she's been doing a lot of work with victims of the Web. Bill says she's the best at it."
"If it just scrambled them, how come they didn't come home?" Ron demanded.
Hermione swallowed. "They wouldn't have known where home was, Ron. Judging from certain first hand accounts that I've read in the last few days, those who have had their brains scrambled are aware that they are missing something. It isn't like Obliviate or any other memory modifications. Fred and George would have known there was something wrong."
"You mean… these last three years?" Ginny's voice wavered and she cleared her throat. "These last three years, they've been banging around, knowing they were missing something but having no clue how to set things right again?"
For a horrible, aching moment, Hermione saw with awful clarity what Ginny was trying to express. Fred and George, the exuberant boys who had never lost their ability to laugh, would have been suffering. If they were still alive, their lives would be like a puzzle to them; one they had no hope of piecing together.
Ron scrubbed his face with his hands. His shoulders were hunched over, and Hermione was suddenly afraid that he might cry. What would I do if it were him? If it was Ron that might have had his brain scrambled? I would encourage Ginny to do whatever she could for him.
"I know a way that they can be found," Hermione said softly, folding her hands and mentally bracing herself.
"What—"
"You've just now—"
It was Ginny who eyed her shrewdly. "You knew," she said accusingly, pointing her finger straight at Hermione's heart. "You knew! And you just now decided to tell us? This is our family, Hermione!"
"It's only been about an hour," Hermione said, knowing this was a feeble excuse. "It's just – it's dark. You're going to have to do… something awful."
"You've been letting us chase our own damn tails," Ginny said angrily.
Percy stirred on the bed, mumbling something under his breath. All four of them exchanged guilty looks. They were supposed to be letting him rest. This took some of the bite out of the room. Ron put his arm around Hermione's shoulders.
"I've thought of every way I know how to track someone. A house elf couldn't do it, because they mostly follow rumor with just a bit of magic to help. And since Fred and George don't know themselves, there's no way for a house elf to do it. And then there's the Trace," Hermione said in a fierce whisper. "Even if we could somehow break the laws of magic – which is completely impossible – they still couldn't be found. And I suppose we could try to use a bit of their hair for a focus, but the odds that working are pretty much zero unless they haven't had a haircut for three years—"
"Hermione, get to the point!" Ron said loudly. "We know all of this, or haven't you been listening to us for the hour? We know we can't use house elves, or the Trace, or using a focus to track them."
Harry spoke up. "Since you're that unwilling to talk about it, maybe you should let us figure it out—"
"Unwilling?!" Hermione shrieked, losing it. "And how willing would you be to let Ginny die, Harry?" She forged through the sudden stillness. "This magic is black. The spell is found in Secrets of the Darkest Arts and you know what other spell is in there? How to make a Horcrux."
"I don't care—"
This was from Ron. Harry's anger had abruptly faded upon hearing that there was a possibility that Ginny might die.
"I care," Hermione said. "You may not care whether you live or die, Ron, but I care. And since I'm the one who might be left behind, then frankly, I think my opinion matters more."
"Hermione, I'm not going to die," Ron said in a placating tone.
To her own surprise, Hermione realized that her cheeks were wet and her vision was blurred. Not two seconds later, Ron's arms were wrapped around her, and he was whispering assurances in her ear while he stroked her back.
"The spell involves blood and cannibalism," Hermione said wetly against his chest. His grip tightened. "And the only reason it'll work is because I know your mother kept George's ear. It was torn off by a curse, of course, but I think she hoped it would grow back on."
"You're rambling," Ron said gently.
"The thing is, Ron," Hermione stepped back and wiped her eyes, "if the twins are dead, and you and Ginny try this? You're dead too."
Harry looked stricken. He licked his lips. "Why can't I do it instead of Ginny?"
Knowing exactly how he felt, Hermione said, "Because you aren't a Weasley, Harry. It has to be someone who shares blood ties with Fred and George. And it couldn't even be the kind of weird blood tie you had with Voldemort. It has to be family." She took a deep breath. "It's a complicated spell. And it's only been used once, to my knowledge, by a dark witch in the 13th century who apparently hated her family."
"Why, what happened?" Ron asked, blue eyes wide.
"It was back when women used to keep the afterbirth," Hermione explained. "And no one knows why, but she started to hate her children. They fled from her, and she found them by eating the afterbirth and tracking them. Once she caught up to them, she dragged them back to where her body was and murdered them."
"We don't want to murder them," Ginny said shakily. "Drag them back, yes… but to keep them, not to kill them."
"I know," Hermione said. "The spell isn't actually what I'm afraid of. It's the fact that if it turns out that Fred and George aren't alive, then you and Ron will die. It's as simple as that. If you track them in this way and if their lives are over, then so are you."
Hermione hoped that her words would shock them into backing down. But she knew it was futile. Ron and Ginny were Weasleys, and Hermione had long envied the bonds the siblings had. They would die for each other. Hermione watched Ron and knew that the decision had already been made. Grasping at straws, she looked at Harry.
"You four," said a weak voice from the bed, "are absolute nutters. You clearly need adult supervision."
"Percy!" Ginny said loudly.
"You're awake!" said Ron.
"Welcome back," said Harry. "You've been awake before—"
"When I told you about the twins, yes," said Percy. His voice was thready, but he sounded almost like himself. "You moved me?"
"To Shell Cottage, yes," said Harry. "The other place was… was…"
"Filthy," finished Percy. His face clenched. "Listen, the twins are alive. Don't go using dark rituals. Honestly, Hermione, I thought better of you. Not only were you not reining them in, but you were about to let them eat George's ear!"
Hermione felt a horrible blush cover her face. "I couldn't think of anything else—"
"Moody bound them to a carnival," said Percy. "They'll still be there. Just have to… find out… which carnival…"
The four sat there for a while, watching as Percy fell back into the deepest of slumbers. Hermione was still horribly embarrassed. "Let's – not tell anyone about this, all right?" she said weakly. "I'll just… go try to figure out which carnival."
"Don't go playing with the Dark Arts to do it," joked Ron.
"Too soon," hissed Ginny.
Hermione left the room with as much dignity as she possessed.
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Harry took the parchment Hermione gave him, feeling a great sense of urgency spread from his stomach outward. This was it. This was the moment they could knit the Weasleys back together... that family that had done so much for him. Their sacrifices would be lessened, their tears dried... if only they could find the twins.
They'd decided not to say anything to any of the others, they thought it best to go and have a look at these three most likely carnivals, and if they were unsuccessful, they'd explore their other options.
Harry unfolded the parchment, found the current address, and Apparated away immediately. He found an old carnival with battered trailers and a few animal pens on a cliff outside a seaside village. Everything was quiet. Everyone was sound asleep. "Homenum revelio," Harry whispered. There were ten people here, and Harry found all of them. Two were older, a couple who might be the owners, most were young and skinny. None were the twins. Still, Harry walked around, just to be sure... the twins might have wandered away to the village...
But once he'd satisfied himself that he'd looked everywhere and thought of everything, he Apparated back to Hermione. Ginny was already back. Harry took her hand.
"Where's Ron?" He asked.
Hermione shook her head. "He's still looking."
Harry and Ginny exchanged a glance. It had been quite some time since they left... "Why don't we check on him? We can Apparate out there..."
Hermione nodded and grabbed her cloak and then Ginny's hand. Harry read the address, focused his mind upon it, and Apparated them to the edge of a forest far to the north.
"It's freezing," Hermione breathed. She drew her wand and produced a wreath of bluebell flames.
Harry nodded his thanks. This was a rather larger carnival than the one he'd searched. They ghosted through it, looking for signs of Ron.
Harry heard him before he could see him, and he stopped so suddenly that Ginny nearly fell over. He had seen Ron in every mood in the book, but he had never heard his best mate cry... not really...
He forced himself onward.
Ron was kneeling on the ground outside an intricately painted caravan, head in his hands, sobbing as though his heart would break. Harry was torn; he wanted to go offer... some sort of comfort, but he also felt that Ron would want privacy, would not want Harry to hear him crying so desperately...
Hermione ran toward him and threw her arms around him. He barely noticed her, but continued to sob. Harry looked around... surely something had happened to make Ron cry like that? But all was quiet. Everything was—
"Oi!" said a familiar voice.
Harry turned his head.
"Do you know this nutter?" asked George.
