A/N – I'm unhappy with this chapter, but the show must go on.
Chapter Six: When We Were Liars Things Were Seamless
The Astronomy Tower was quiet. Hermione was drumming her fingers on a wicker basket and Ginny was slumped over a second basket, exhausted from the evening's Quidditch practice. The room was cold, but she was warm in her jumper and the material felt pleasant against her cheek…her eyes hurt less when she kept them closed….
She was flying, using the maneuvers she'd practiced earlier in the day, as Bill and Charlie passed a Quaffle between them. Fred and George were hitting Bludgers at each other, Ron was annoyed with them, and Ginny spied the Snitch. Malfoy was in her way, so she checked him as hard as she could and sped towards the gold speck. Now she had the tiny winged ball, but Malfoy had spiraled to the ground and was in a broken heap on the pitch. Percy was beside him, pale and unnaturally twisted.
"Do you think they meant Tuesday one a.m. as in very late on Monday?" Hermione's voice drifted to Ginny's ears from far away. "What if they came last night?"
Ginny rubbed at her eyes, still disquieted from her brief dream. "Then we'd have gotten Howlers for breakfast. They're just late. They always are."
Her answer didn't seem to reassure Hermione, who stared at the open window and resumed her anxious finger-tapping. It was like music to Ginny, and went nicely with her warm jumper. The jumper sleeve felt nice against her cheek, too. Her eyes hurt to be open so much. Maybe if she closed them…?
Hermione cried out as Buckbeak exploded into the classroom in a shower of feathers. Two figures dropped from the hippogriff's back. Each party surveyed the other.
"We need food," Ron gasped finally. Hermione opened the lid of the basket beside her, and both boys dove forward to discover its treasures. "You're ruddy brilliant," he muttered with a smile as he began shoveling food into his mouth.
Hermione didn't smile back.
Silence prevailed as Harry and Ron devoured the meal Hermione and Ginny had brought them from the kitchen, punctuated only by their groans of appreciation and annoyed clacks from Buckbeak when he wanted another tidbit thrown his way. The boys had tanned substantially since Ginny had seen them last, but they were so lean! Their hair had grown shaggy and their stubble accentuated their sunken eyes. They looked unwell. They looked like Malfoy. Ginny was sickened at the thought that Harry and Ron may be in their own prison every bit as punishing as Azkaban, but she was also sickened at the way they steadfastly refused to look at her and Hermione.
"It's a stroke of genius, using a Cohesion Portkey," Hermione began stiffly as the boys showed signs of slowing down. "The military history behind them is fascinating, I can't imagine half the surprise attacks I read of being successful without them."
"It was my idea," Ron boasted. "I read about it a bit at Twelve Grimmauld."
"Can you do it, Hermione?" Harry asked, studying his tart.
"Why has Twelve Grimmauld disappeared?" Ginny asked. She was ignored. Her head was pounding with lack of sleep. Everything looked surreal, bodies becoming mere silhouettes, and she was having trouble following the others' conversation. She was trying to cling to this moment, being in this room with Harry, helping him and Ron in their fight, but everything was slipping away without imprinting on her brain.
"Well, I scoured the library and finally found the incantation – Ginny found the book, actually – and it looks pretty complex, Harry. I've studied it and studied it, and of course there's the extra incantation for the master Key which is another level altogether, let me tell you, and I've practiced a bit, not on anything of course, I don't know how to remove it…." She'd finally run out of breath. "I don't know."
"Of course she can," Ron scoffed. He flipped a Galleon at Hermione. "Give it a try."
"Do nothing, Hermione," Ginny snarled suddenly. All three looked at her in surprise. "Before we start this, I want some answers. Where have you been, and why haven't you talked to anyone until now?"
"We've been everywhere, Ginny," Harry answered with a thin veneer of patience. "We tracked Ravenclaw's wand all the way to Turkey. We couldn't have anyone here know where we were in case Voldemort found out and knew where the wand was himself. The good news," he concluded, turning to Hermione, "is that we're down to the last Horcrux. The bad news is, we're not sure what it is."
"Really?" Hermione's eyes sparked with academic interest.
"Mum's gone spare," Ginny cut in before Hermione could derail the conversation with questions. "I've got some parchment here and a quill. I want you to both write her, tell her you're okay, and tell her that you love her!" Her strident voice echoed off the walls of the Tower, and Buckbeak tossed his head in irritation.
"Ginny," Ron snapped, "we don't really have the time right now. Plus, if we -"
"NOW!"
"Go ahead," Hermione encouraged them quietly, "and I'll work on the Portkeys. Harry, your Galleon?"
"I was thinking," Ron said while Harry fumbled in his pockets, "that they should do something when they're activated, like an alarm or something." He gesticulated vaguely with his quill.
"Write," Ginny hissed.
"That might be too conspicuous," Hermione mused. "What about light?"
"Because that's not conspicuous?" Ron snorted, scrawling on the parchment.
"Heat, maybe? And we could ask people to wear them at all times?"
"Either they won't be noticed in outer pockets, or you'll burn someone with it against their skin," Harry said.
"Light, then?" Hermione asked, Harry's trick Galleon between her fingers.
Harry nodded uncertainly, looking overwhelmed. "If you think that's our best bet?"
"I promise it'll be bright," she whispered, setting the Galleon on the ground and drawing her wand. She looked more than a bit ill. "Here goes nothing."
"There," Ron cried, shoving the parchment at Ginny, "are you happy now?"
"Ssshhh! Hermione's trying to work!" Ginny scolded.
"You can't give these to her right away. Wait a couple of days."
"Fine. Get Harry over here."
Ron poked Harry with the quill. Harry wrote quickly, his expression stoic. Ginny glanced over at Hermione who was waving her wand in an intricate pattern over Harry's Galleon, muttering under her breath.
"Ginny." Harry spoke quietly and finally looked directly at her, his expression tender. Ginny's breath caught. She must have fallen asleep. "I need you to tell me everything you know about Voldemort."
It was a double punch to the gut. Ginny reeled, her head hurting more than ever. She was suddenly aware that her mouth was opening and closing soundlessly, like a fish. Hermione's voice droned in the background. "I-I don't know anything about Voldemort," she stammered.
Harry fixed her with a flinty look. "You wrote to him. He possessed you."
"He was Tom back then," she protested weakly. She and Harry had never had this conversation.
"Tell me about," his lip curled in distaste, "Tom."
"Uh, okay. Well, you met him, he seems very nice and conscientious at first. He remembers everything you say, and always knows how to brighten your day. And he tells wonderful stories, and he's so handsome and charming." A small smile graced her features as she remembered. "He would visit me in my dreams, of course I don't know if I was actually asleep or out strangling roosters, but he said I was beautiful and…worthy…." Her smile fell away. "Tom lies, Harry. Everything he says is a lie. Don't listen to anything he says, and don't believe anything he's ever told you. He knows just what to say. He makes bad ideas seem good. Once you listen to him, once you start believing, that's when he starts hurting you, and hurting people is what he likes best. He still visits me sometimes when I'm asleep," she said softly, "only to make me hurt."
All three of them were looking at her. Ron looked like he'd eaten a bogie-flavoured Every Flavour Bean. Hermione's eyes shone suspiciously. "Do you know of any magical weaknesses?" Harry pressed on.
Ginny shook her head slowly.
Harry sighed heavily. "Hermione, how's the Portkey coming?"
Hermione blinked rapidly. "They're finished, I suppose. Here you are, Harry – wait, I'll put it in something." She reached in her pocket, retrieved the velvet satchel Luna had given her, and upended it. A clod of dirt, shredded something-or-other, and small bones fell to the floor. She placed Harry's fake Galleon in the bag and handed it to him. "Ginny, do you have a bag for Ron's?"
"Yes," she said, reluctantly opening her own amulet.
"Okay, Harry, when you activate your master Key all of the subsidiary Keys will open to wherever the master Key is. Others will know your Key has been activated because theirs will shine. Ron's will tell you right away whether or not it worked, so I won't have to make one for myself."
"What are you talking about, Hermione?" Ron asked, confused.
Hermione's chin lifted defiantly. "Well, there's no sense in all three of us having one."
Ginny laughed hollowly. Harry and Ron looked uncomfortable. "Hermione," she said, "they haven't come for you. They haven't come for me. They've come for our help. Best of luck," she said, turning to Ron and Harry. "If you need anything more from me, let me know. But just remember this, Harry, even if we're not your friends we're still your allies. We're not your slaves, and you'd do well to treat us with more respect than you have tonight. I'm exhausted from Quidditch and I've got a roaring headache, so if you've nothing more to take from me I'm going to bed."
Ginny could see the astonishment in Harry's eyes and she wanted nothing more than to tell him it was okay, that she understood. She didn't understand. She didn't recognize these wizards who were battle-hardened and perfunctory, couldn't see the boys she'd joked around with when she was a child, and she couldn't stand to take part in this morbid dance of trying to act like a friend while feeling like a stranger any longer.
"You don't know what you're saying, Ginny," Hermione snapped, her eyes full of astonishment of their own. "They need me."
This was a scene she really didn't want to witness. "Take care," she said to them, collecting their letters to Molly. "I'll be ready when you need me."