Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter Eighteen: The Wanderer
……………………………………………………………

'You're sure that Harry will be able to reach her?' asked Percy.

'If anyone has hope of connecting with Miss Weasley, I daresay it would be him,' McGonagall said. 'But that is neither here nor there. Harry is going to Malfoy Manor, regardless of whether she is there or not.'

Ron sighed.

Harry and Ginny, his best mate and his sister, were together.

Well, no, they weren't. Ron wouldn't be so angry if they were. The truth of the matter is that they weren't together. They weren't dating, they weren't involved in any way, and yet they were ... well, he didn't even want to think about what they were doing.

It had been happening right under his nose for weeks. All summer, he now suspected. And Hermione had known! Every time he had said something to her, every time he had mentioned that Harry and his sister had been acting strangely, she would shrug it off and tell him he was only imagining it. How could she have done that to him?

Never mind her ... how could Harry have done that to him? They were mates – best mates – and Harry had lied to him. Harry had bloody defiled his sister!

Ron scowled in disgust. Was this really happening? He had looked up to Harry ... he had idolized him. The Chaser on the Chudley Cannons was entertaining to watch, but hell, he flew around on a broom for a living. His biggest worry was whether or not a ball would go through a bloody hoop. Harry fought Voldemort and his biggest worry wasn't even whether or not he'd live to see tomorrow, but if his friends would live to see it. In Ron's eyes, Harry could pretty much do no wrong. But now ... Harry had done a lot wrong.

When they got Ginny back, Ron was going to sit the two of them down and murder them. Well, maybe he'd let Ginny get checked out by a Healer first. And maybe he'd make a point to hug her and tell her he loved her. But once that was out of the way, Harry and Ginny were in for it.

'Can we get started?' Harry asked anxiously.

This was where things got tricky for Ron. No matter what had been happening between Harry and Ginny, no matter how vile or disgusting Ron imagined it to be, Harry really did care about Ginny. Anyone who didn't see that would have to be blind or deaf or a complete imbecile in one way or another. As mad as Ron wanted to be, a part of him was almost happy at the panic on his friend's face. It was that panic that was saving Harry from the arse kicking of a lifetime, courtesy of Ron Weasley.

He sighed again and tried, unsuccessfully, to listen to McGonagall and the others ramble on and on about the Wandering Spell. All he could think about was Ginny and Harry and their slightly messed up relationship.

The first time he had ever considered Harry as a good match for his sister was during his fourth year. He and Harry had been scrambling for dates at the Yule Ball and he had suggested that Ginny go with Harry. And afterwards, the more he had thought about it, the more it seemed like the perfect solution. He couldn't stand Cho Chang, and the fact that Harry was so entranced by her confused him. What was so great about her? Sure, she was pretty ... but a lot of girls were pretty. Perhaps Ron would've noticed her more if he hadn't been so busy fretting over Hermione that year. But that was beside the point.

He had figured that Ginny would be a good match for him. They spent their summers together at The Burrow and they had always ended up around each other at school ... so why not? What would be so wrong with Harry and Ginny getting together? Harry had been his best friend for years and Ron knew that he was a good, standup guy. Or Ron had thought he was, at least. He hadn't thought that Harry would turn his sister into a cheap slag.

Okay, so he wasn't being fair.

But still, it didn't look too good. Ron hoped that maybe Harry hadn't really meant to say what he said ... or maybe Ron had misunderstood. Yeah, that could be it.

The second time had been at the beginning of his fifth year. He had heard that Ginny was seeing Michael Corner, and when he confronted her about it, she had shrugged and looked away but hadn't denied it.

'What about Harry?' he had asked.

Ginny had sighed and planted her hands on her hips. 'I've given up on him, Ron,' she had said sternly, with a brave, slightly defiant look in her eyes.

Ron had noted that she hadn't said that she'd gotten over him. She had only said that she'd given up on him. But there had been something about the way she said it, perhaps it was the way her voice broke as she told him, that struck something inside of him.

The third time had been near the end of his fifth year, when Ginny had stood up to Harry and demanded that he let her accompany them to the Department of Mysteries. She had yelled at him and called him out, the two of them butting heads like two angry Hippogriffs. He had vaguely thought Ginny's someone who can keep Harry in line ... and Harry looks out for her well enough. But then, they had mounted the Threstrals and flown off to rescue Sirius, any thoughts of his sister's love life leaving his mind.

The next time had been on the train ride home, when he had not-so-subtly suggested that she choose someone better next time. Of course, Ginny had let it slip that she had already chosen Dean Thomas, so Ron had backed off.

But Ginny and Dean hadn't lasted and somehow, finally, Harry had pulled his head out of his arse and managed to see what a wonderful catch Ginny was.

And now –

'I think that's all we'll need,' Tonks said. Ron looked up and saw that the kitchen table had been moved away and a space on the floor had been cleared out. 'Are you ready, Harry?'

Harry nodded eagerly and joined her in the middle of the empty space. 'Er, what do I do?' he asked.

'Just lay down,' Tonks answered. Harry gave her a strange look but obeyed, getting on the floor and staring up at everyone.

'Remember,' said Kingsley, 'you are simply doing this spell to find out if Ginny is really being held at Malfoy Manor or not. You are not to be detected, because there could be dire consequences. Don't touch anything. You will be able to hear us talking to you ... we can guide you and collect information as you go, but you must remember not to speak out directly to us, or you will most likely be overheard. Don't get too close, if you can help it. You will have a half hour to get in and out. That's all the time we can give you, unfortunately. After that, the spell will have worn off. Be smart, Harry. Don't do anything stupid. If you do, Miss Weasley will be the one to suffer.'

'Is there anything else?' asked Harry.

'Take your shoes off,' Tonks said quickly. Ron felt his brow furrow and looked at her quizzically. 'It's a precaution.' Kingsley nodded and Harry kicked his shoes off.

'Are you ready?'

Harry looked at Ron as Kingsley began the spell. In that moment, Ron felt his anger momentarily subside, replaced with concern for his sister and for his best friend.

He held his breath as Harry's eyes fluttered shut.

……………………………………………………………

Harry was standing in front of a dark, looming house made of stone. It rivaled Hogwarts in size and sent a chill down Harry's spine. This, he knew, was the house of evil. And this was where Ginny was, he was sure of it. He could feel it. He had to get her out.

He climbed the steps and reached out to the door. How would he get in? If the front door mysteriously opened, wouldn't someone notice? Wouldn't someone investigate?

But as soon as his hand touched the door handle, it went through. Harry jumped back as if he had been burned and brought his hand up to his face to examine it. It didn't look any different ... perhaps slightly more translucent. Could he walk through things? Tonks hadn't mentioned that.

Biting his lip, he took a few steps forward and passed through the stone doors.

'Can you hear me, Harry?'

Harry opened his mouth to answer, knowing that it was Tonks he was hearing, but remembered that he wasn't supposed to speak. He nodded, wondering if his head was nodding on the floor of Grimmauld Place.

'Look around. Can you see anything?'

He could see a lot of things. He could see high ceilings, marble floors, pillars and long corridors lit only by candlelight. He could see shadows lurking in the distance, patterns dancing on the walls ... but none of that mattered. He couldn't see Ginny and he couldn't see any Death Eaters.

'Is Ginny there?' he heard Ron ask. 'Can you see her?'

He shook his head and kept walking. He caught himself looking over his shoulder, keeping a lookout for signs of danger, and forced himself to remember that he couldn't be seen. It felt awkward to walk around with his Invisibility Cloak or the Marauder's Map to guide him. Had he been visible, he felt certain he would've stuck out like a sore thumb.

Malfoy Manor was a dreadful place. It was cold and hard and unloving. Harry now understood how someone like Draco Malfoy could be so evil. Growing up in a household such as this must have been an awful experience. But even so, Harry felt no sympathy for the youngest Malfoy. And Harry would still extract revenge, given the chance.

A shiver ran through Harry's body and he looked around, half-expecting a Dementor to be lurking around somewhere. The negative feelings centered on this house were overwhelming. The air seemed to be charged, creating a constant feeling of unease.

He needed to focus. He needed to look around and find Ginny. She was there, he knew she was.

But there were so many different routes to go and Ginny could be at the end of any of these corridors, any of these flights of stairs. He tried to think of where Malfoy would keep his prisoners. In the basement ... in the dungeon, that's where. He stood in silent debate for a moment before choosing a path and hoping it was the right one.

He heard a scream, a bone-chilling, blood-curdling scream. Ginny's scream. His heart caught in his throat and despite everything, despite the fierce sense of hatred that welled up inside of him, despite the overwhelming sense of responsibility, of knowing that he had done this to her and wanting to find her, to get her back ... he couldn't move.

What would he find when he followed the sound of her screams?

'What is it? What's wrong?'

He couldn't answer, didn't know how to answer.

'Harry?'

She screamed again, and Harry snapped out of it. He needed to get to her. If he didn't –

The sound was muffled, far away, and something told Harry that he was going the wrong way. He turned around and picked a different route, torn between wanting her to scream so he could find her, and not wanting her to scream because it would mean that she was in pain.

When no more screams came, Harry was too relieved to care that he probably wouldn't find her as quickly. He now had proof that Ginny was here. The Order members would have to believe him. He imagined McGonagall, with her hand on her hip and a stern look on her face, telling him that it could've been anyone who was screaming, and they couldn't be certain that it was Ginny. Okay, he'd need to get more proof.

He wandered in silence, in darkness, for a few moments before coming to a stairwell. He descended for what felt like ages, focusing on keeping one foot in front of the other. He could see and hear nothing, but something inside was telling him that Ginny was this way. A voice broke through.

'Fifteen minutes left. Hurry.'

Fifteen minutes? Shite! What had he been doing all this time? Walking around with his head up his arse, it seemed, because he still hadn't gotten any closer to Ginny. And there were no candles lighting the way anymore; there was no way of seeing anything around him. He knew, logically, that wandering around in the dark wasn't the smartest thing in the world, but something was calling him, drawing him deeper into the darkness.

He could hear a voice – a female – but he couldn't make out what she was saying. With a shaking hand, he reached into his robes and gripped his wand, prepared to draw it at any moment. If it was Bellatrix Lestrange – wait, what was he going to do? Was he going to hex her ... kill her like she had killed Sirius? Could he even do it? He had no doubt that he could, that he would be able to ... but would the Wandering Spell allow it?

He shook his head to clear his mind. He wouldn't let himself do anything that would put Ginny in danger.

The voice was getting louder, coming up behind him. Harry knew for certain now that it was Lestrange. He moved around blindly, wondering what would happen if he accidentally bumped into her. There was another voice, a male one, which he didn't recognize.

Harry stayed stock-still, blanketed in darkness. He listened as the voices came up behind him, passed him, and then ceased. Lestrange and the man fell into silence. A loud, screeching sound rang out and Harry's eyes widened as a door opened, ten yards ahead of him, illuminating the corridor. Wands raised, Lestrange and the other Death Eater disappeared into the other room while another came out. The heavy, steel door closed, leaving Harry in the darkened corridor with the other Death Eater, whose echoing footsteps were retreating, going back up the stairs.

'Are you ready to talk, Weasley?'

Harry gasped. Ginny was in there. She was right on the other side of the wall. Was she okay?

There was a moment of silence before Harry head Ginny's weak reply.

'Not even close.'

'Are you getting anything?'

Harry ignored the voices and walked forward, colliding roughly with the door. There must have been some sort of spell protecting the room, because Harry couldn't get through.

'Are you there?' Tonks prodded, but Harry did not bother to answer.

He would just have to wait until someone opened the door and he could slip inside.

'Bloody hell, are you listening? Is she there or not?'

'Ron –'

'Well, honestly. Make him answer us!'

Had the situation not have been so dire, Harry would've smiled at his friends' antics. Ron and Hermione were pathetic ... in the best way possible. He loved them both but Merlin; they danced around each other in the most annoying way. At first, he had been worried about what would happen if Ron and Hermione were to get together. Now, he was worried about what would happen if they didn't.

Harry hadn't realized that he had been waiting for quite some time until he heard Tonks tell him, 'You have five minutes.'

Harry's heart began racing again and he silently screamed, demanding that the door open so he could get inside. He wondered if he could do wandless magic, if he should even bother trying.

At last, there was an echoing sound of laughter, followed by another loud screech. Harry looked up in time to see two figures entering the corridor.

With agility Harry hadn't known he possessed, he bolted to the door and slipping in just before it closed, bringing him into the room that held Ginny.

It was a huge room, and as dungeon-like as anything he'd ever seen before. It reeked of urine and decay and ... well, if pure evil had a smell, Harry was sure that this was it. Like the rest of the Manor, candles that were mounted on the wall acted as the only source of light. There were chains in the corner and a bucket, of which Harry did not want to know its contents. The stone walls trapped the cold and Harry shivered, feeling the coolness of the room in his very soul. He took a few steps forward, deeper into the dungeon, his eyes scanning the corners for Ginny.

She wasn't there.

Damn it! How was that possible? He had heard her! She had to be in there.

He wondered how many dungeons the Malfoy's could possibly have. Surely they only had one. But then again, Harry wouldn't put it past Lucius Malfoy to have a whole underground network of dungeons, of torture chambers, of rooms devoted to Voldemort and the Dark Arts.

Perhaps she wasn't in there.

But he had heard Lestrange talking to her ... hadn't he?

Beside his foot, however, lay a piece of gold material. It looked like it had been ripped off Ginny's dress ... she'd most likely stepped on it and it had torn. Harry drew his wand from the pocket of his robes, on guard, his senses attuned to everything around him. He wished he had Ginny's wand on him, so maybe he could give her it and she could fight the Death Eaters off. Would it help her to have a wand, or would the Death Eaters outnumber her and kill her for complicating their plans? What were their plans? No matter what was going to happen, Ginny was going to need her wand to defend herself. He would have to remember to grab it when they came back to rescue her.

A new sense of panic surged inside of Harry when he finally spotted her, far across the dungeon. She was huddled in the corner, her head lolled to the side. She had never looked smaller than she did at that moment. Harry had a brief flashback to the Chamber of Secrets. Even then, she hadn't looked this pale, this fragile ... this broken.

He studied her chest as he walked closer, but didn't see the telltale rising and falling. Was she breathing?

Yes. As he got closer, he saw that she was. Her breathing was weak, so weak that Harry wasn't truly sure if it was actually happening, or if he was simply imagining it. But he did not have time to debate with himself, because Tonks cut in again.

'Thirty seconds, Harry.'

Harry sunk to his knees and leaned forward, staring at the limp figure in front of him.

'Ginny,' he whispered before he could catch himself. He had been ordered not to talk ... but that had only applied to when others were around, right? 'It's okay ... I'm going to come back for you ... I'm going to kill them all for this ...'

And in that moment, kneeling on the cold, stone floor and staring at a near-lifeless Ginny, Harry knew that he would. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for the girl before him.

'Twenty seconds.'

There was a loud echoing sound behind him and Harry turned. The man who murdered Dumbledore entered the dungeon and frowned when he saw Ginny. Hatred arose in Harry, momentarily cancelled out by confusion. A flick of – was that worry? – passed through Snape's features before it faded, replaced by a hard sneer. Harry stared at his former Professor and wondered if it had really even been there at all.

Snape looked directly at Harry, who felt his blood run cold and his heart hammer furiously against his ribcage. He felt certain that he had been sighted before remembering that he couldn't possibly have been. Snape shook his head and gripped his wand.

'Ten seconds. Get ready.'

'Ennervate,' Snape said, pointing his wand at Ginny.

Ginny's eyes fluttered open and she gasped, stiffening suddenly as she saw Snape.

'Get away from me,' she said weakly, but Harry felt sudden pride bubble up inside when he saw the fierce look her eyes still held.

'Quiet, Weasley,' Snape spat. He looked around and waved his hand, muttering something under his breath. He turned to her again. 'There is no time. Listen carefully.'

Harry opened his eyes and found himself on the hard kitchen floor of Grimmauld Place.

……………………………………………………………