Another Departure
July 3, 1996
England, Little Hangleton

„Crucio"

The pain was unbearable. Ginny no longer tried to keep in the screams. At first she had tried. But with time she had figure out that there was no point. So she just let them out. No matter how loud she was, no matter how agony filled the screams were, Ginny always heard the maniacal laughter of her main torturer. Bellatrix wasn't always there, but the first few days Ginny had spent in her cell were spent with Bellatrix and the evil witch's laughter for company. Bellatrix loved to torture. Nothing was more entertaining than breaking Ginny apart and the healing her, just to start again from the very beginning.

Ginny was in her cell, her oh not so glamorous living quarters for the time that had seemed like years, but was only few days, two weeks at most. She had been there ever since the failed rescue mission that had led her and five others to the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic. The young redhead couldn't blame her brother's best friend for the predicament she was in, but a small part of her sometimes wished she hadn't fallowed him. Then she felt angry at that part of her and guilty for the thoughts it brought to her mind — Harry had saved her from the Chamber of Secrets, almost at the cost of his own life. She still had nightmares where Fawkes hadn't healed Harry and he had died. Even to this day Ginny felt that she owed Harry and fallowing him had been a way to repay this debt, even if it hadn't turned out the way they had hoped that it would — with Sirius safe and them unscathed. Ginny just hoped that all the others had come out of the Department of Mysteries in a better shape than she had.

Ginny's thoughts focused on Lord Voldemort - she knew that he was to blame for tricking Harry into going to the Ministry in first place — a trap meant to capture more than just Harry, a trap that hadn't worked in the end. Harry was nowhere to be seen and the prophecy was broken as far as she had gathered. She just hoped that the information the little orb contained was truly lost to Voldemort. She realised that the prophecy was important to Tom and hoped that the snake faced man would never get his hands on it. Ginny was happy that Voldemort's current pursuit of the exact wording of the prophecy was futile — she was his only lead for it, because, somewhere in his twisted mind he had decided that she could know at least some part of the prophecy — after all she was one of the last people Harry had talked to after finding the orb. To get the information he needed old Tom was ready to do anything, but he didn't want to dirty his hands with blood traitor trash like her — at least that was what is pet Death Eaters told her when they came to play with her.

Death Eater games weren't tag or chess. The games played by them were much more painful - for her, at least. Ginny couldn't remember how many bones they had broken, or how many times she had been under the Cruciatus curse. Only thing she knew was that there was no place on her body that didn't hurt.

"Itty, bitty baby, are you ready to talk?" Bellatrix asked, her voice sounding like that of toddler's. At any other time Ginny would have answered with a witty comment, but now she didn't have the strength to even lift her head — practically all of her will to fight had left her. All she could do was relish the coldness of the stone floor — it gave her some relief from the burning that the cruciatus caused. Bellatrix saw that she would get no answer as long as Ginny was that exhausted. Voldemort's right hand woman walked out of the cell to look for something, not even bothering to close the cell doors — she knew that the youngest Weasley child wouldn't go anywhere.

Ginny saw Bellatrix leaving and tried to sit up, or move in any other way, but she couldn't — her strength had left her long before she had lost count of how many Cruciatus curses she had been under. Suddenly, she heard voices not far from her cell. These voices were both familiar to her — one was the voice of her torturer, burned in her memory almost as deeply as the voice of Tom Riddle, the other voice she couldn't place - her mudded mind didn't let her remember.

"I've heard that you have gotten yourself a new toy." The voice was definitely man's and very few of the ones she knew would let themselves be caught dead in a place like this.

"You have heard right, but it's your job, hearing things I mean." Bellatrix's words seemed casual enough, but her tone seemed suspicious. "As for the toy, Severus, you can report to the muggle loving fool that one of his blood traitor boot lickers soon will be dead."

"So, the Weasley isn't dead yet? I hoped that she had perished at your hand already." The silky voice she had heard so many times — her potions teacher's voice, but she couldn't believe that he would say something like that. Severus Snape was an unfair teacher, but Ginny's instincts had always told her that he wasn't evil. And her instincts had never steered her wrong — at least when she let them steer her. He is a spy; he has a front, a mask to show them and to protect. He can't help me.

"Dark Lord wanted some information, but she hasn't cracked yet, our lord is becoming impatient and wishes to extract the information himself. I'll be bringing her to him soon, just need to get some potions in her. She has been one of the more fun toys I've had, but she will be no fun after master is done with her. A pity, but I love to see the Dark Lord in action."

Well, that sounds positively ominous, Ginny thought, but it won't change much. I would have died soon enough here. Her death had been inescapable ever since she had been captured, yet it didn't make the closeness of it any easier to bear. Ginny had logically known for over a year that Voldemort was back and his presence would increase her chances of dying young, but who thinks that they would die before they reach their fifteenth birthday? And now, even after two weeks in a cell with only morally challenged people for company death still scared her — she hadn't even done third of the things she wanted to do. If, by some miracle, I get out of this alive, I'll tell Harry how I feel about him — damn the consequences!

She was lost in thoughts, so she didn't hear the rest of Snape's and Bellatrix's conversation, but, somehow, it didn't seem all that important in the face of her death. Ginny was jerked out of her morbid thoughts by the footsteps of her torturer right next to her. When Bellatrix stopped by the exhausted girl's head and bent down to get closer to her, she shoved a potion down her prisoner's throat — it was Pepper-Up potion, to get Ginny to walk. Bellatrix grabbed Ginny's hand and forcefully pulled her up then proceeded to point her wand at the girl and tell her to move. And Ginny moved, even knowing that she was walking towards her death.

Cold fear was eating at Ginny's heart all the way to Voldemort's "Throne room". It wasn't actually a throne room, just an old ballroom where a chair that looked like a throne was placed. A room fit for a man that had no truth, no reality behind any of his words — just the power to inspire fear without anything else, no real charm to make people want to follow him — any charm he might have had was lost while slowly transforming into Voldemort. Voldemort wasn't anything like that charming sixteen year old boy that had made Ginny believe that he wanted to help her by letting her share secrets with him. In place of that boy stood a monster that was more snake than human — a man that loved to cause pain and suffering, thrived on these emotions. And his cruelty had probably only grown over time. At sixteen he was ready to kill his own schoolmates. Fifty years later he wasn't above anything that involved torture, killing and dark arts. It didn't make her future prospects very bright.

"So we finally meet eye to eye, Ginevra. How do you like my humble abode?"

"Oh, it's truly very humble. It's an old abandoned house that you probably stole from some muggles. Isn't it a bit against your code? Muggle scum and all that?" The Pepper Up potion had brought some strength back to Ginny, so she was able to answer. She knew that her chances of living were very bleak, so she wasn't above pissing Voldemort off. It might make her demise more painful, but something had broken in her while under one of the Cruciatus curses that Bellatrix loved — very few things could hurt her more than she already had been hurt and if Voldemort found one of those things, it would not matter anymore. In any other situation she wouldn't have done that, but after the two weeks she had had Ginny was very far from happy and all the emotions had to go somewhere and she knew this was her last chance to do something to the person that had turned her first year to hell. She might not be able to do much, but it would bring her a little satisfaction. Only death was in store for her and she wasn't planning to return as a ghost, so this was her last chance. Voldemort did what she expected him to do — put the most painful Unforgivable Curse on her. The pain hit her head on and she was on the floor, screaming, almost immediately. She was happy that no Death Eaters were present — no reason to give them even more entertainment than they had already gotten from her.

After Voldemort had enjoyed her screams for some time, he stopped the curse. When it was lifted, Ginny become aware of the fact that she was flat against the floor. Again. At least it was soothing for her flushed skin.

"I hope you have learned to keep your mouth shut, Ginevra. After all, we wouldn't want you becoming a vegetable." Voldemort paused for dramatic effect a bit, but Ginny knew what was coming next. "Yet." when this was said, he paused again to let these words sink in Ginny's mind. But by that point Ginny just didn't care — her body was aching, and there weren't any places that didn't hurt. Being brain-dead didn't seem too bad compared to that.
"So, Ginevra, Bella here tells me that you have been refusing to cooperate. You have been in our care for two weeks, yet your silence hasn't been breached. I find myself tired of this, girl. This is you one last chance to tell me what you heard of the Prophecy. If you'll talk, you'll be free."

"I know nothing of your Prophecy. And even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you!" Ginny was expecting at least a Cruciatus, for the words that were oh so cliché, but it never came. Voldemort uttered only one word, and for a few moments Ginny thought that the spell, for it was obviously a spell, hadn't done anything. But then hot, searing pain ripped through her mind. Images that she could barely identify as her memories came and went faster than she could place them. That was until the Dark Lord reached the memories of the rescue mission. Ginny had to relive each moment and each second, and she had to feel the displeasure that came from Voldemort all the time, for he finally realised that she knew nothing and that there had never been anything to tell. Nothing that he found was related to the wording of the prophecy; nothing that was found in the girl's memories was worthwhile.

"It seems, Weasley, that you were telling the truth, but, for your previous comments, I give you this…" At these words he ripped the girl's mind. All her memories, her thoughts and feelings came at her all at once. They were ripped out of their place and absolutely nothing was left standing, the memories losing the connection to Ginny's mind. She slumped down, nothing more than a vegetable now.

With a lazy flick of his wand, Voldemort opened the door that led out of his throne room.

"Dispose of her, Bella," he said to the woman that had been diligently watching the hallway by the door, making sure that nobody disturbed her master.

"Of course, My Lord. With pleasure." Voldemort watched while his most loyal servant levitated the Weasley girl out. It was a pity that a young powerful pure-blood had to be turned into a vegetable, but she would have never joined him. She was a muggle lover and the Potter brat's friend, even if he was dead. Ironically, Ginevra Weasley's last thought had been about him. I won't get to tell Harry after all. For a few moments the Dark Lord wondered about it, but it wasn't anything important to his future plans, so he soon forgot and went on plotting.

Bellatrix levitated the body of Ginny Weasley down the hallways, all the time thinking that it was a pity that her curses would not make the girl scream. She was still alive, but no response would be forthcoming after her mind was ripped apart. The girl didn't even move when Bellatrix dropped her — the first, the second or the third time. Bellatrix reached the hole without dropping the girl for the fourth time. Upon reaching it, she threw the still alive girl in it, then just turned around to get back to the run down manor, all the while thinking that Ginny Weasley would suffer for a while yet — even if she didn't realise or respond to what would be happening to her.

A shadowy figure watched Bellatrix making her way towards the hole that was used for body disposal these days. The figure saw Bellatrix drop the body, for he could draw no other conclusion as to why it would not respond in the slightest, and the flash or fiery red hair identified it as Ginny Weasley, one of his best students, no matter how much he hated to admit it. Severus Snape had very few students he would admit to be good, even to himself, and he never liked losing them. However, he knew that the little pang of sorrow he experienced was nothing compared to what the girl's family would feel.

I hate to be the bringer of bad news.

July 3, 1996
London, 12 Grimmauld Place

"I call this meeting of the Order of the Phoenix in session." The few conversations that had been going on around the table stopped immediately. The atmosphere that had been sombre before, turned even more so when silence settled over the room. People with morose faces were settled all around the table, but most morose of them all were the Weasleys. They had suffered the most from the ill planned battle at the Department of Mysteries. Their daughter had gone missing, their son was in a coma and a boy that they loved as a son was as good as dead.

Not all that had come out of the trap turned battle was bad — the ministry was finally forced to admit that Voldemort was back and people had come to join the Order as soon as they realised that cowering in their houses would not be an option in the coming war. At least the ones who realised this fact had joined. Dumbledore just wished that it hadn't taken an attack on the ministry and the disappearance of the Boy-Who-Lived for this to happen.

"I'm happy to see many new faces here, but my joy is obscured by the recent loss of our members. In the last two weeks since Voldemort has come out in the open, members of Order of the Phoenix have been prime targets. Sirius Black is no longer the only one missing from our ranks."

The empty seats became more pronounced with these words, and the room's occupants became even more morose. Sirius Black, Jennifer Ilkeston, a muggleborn witch, Gerard Millen, an auror, Lenny Linderman, shopkeeper in Diagon Alley, were only few of those that had been lost in the past week. Neither Remus Lupin nor Molly Weasley had come to any of the meetings ever since the battle. Remus had lost the last two links he had to the happiest time of his life and Molly had a child in the hospital, a child missing and a child presumed dead.

"With Voldemort's increasing activity the Ministry has been seeking me out more and more and I no longer have time for the research on Veil of Death. I need somebody to continue this research. You all know how important it is." So far Dumbledore had had little luck on locating anything besides the book he already had about the Veil, but he knew that more people would help immensely, and the Ministry was really pressing him.

"I'll do it!" Reilly Jillens immediately jumped on this opportunity. She was used to deskwork, not field work — Ravenclaw through and through. And she knew that it would be her way of helping get their only hope back. Dumbledore had explained why Harry Potter was so important, he had had no other choice, but even then he hadn't told anyone the wording of the prophecy that Voldemort had been so eager to get. In the end there were few others that volunteered for research, but it was settled that Reilly would lead the team.

"Now that that's settled, we have another missing student. Right now I have no news of Ginny Weasley's whereabouts, but I've told our spy in Voldemort's ranks to keep an eye out for her."

Right at that moment, as if some higher power had planned it, Fawkes arrived in a burst of flames. Snape had been unable to come to the meetings in person for quite some time, in fear that his mental shields would let something important slip. Dumbledore carefully unrolled the slip of paper that Fawkes had presented to him and saw three dreaded words written in the loopy script of his potions master.

SHE IS DEAD

The old headmaster's face and demeanour betrayed his age when he spoke the words that were written on the small paper aloud. However, his thoughts were only partly on the dead girl. Harry, please be alive and well. We need you, because without you there will be a lot more parents missing their children.

July 3, 1996
London, St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries

Hermione was looking at the ceiling of the hospital ward she was in. Now she could understand why Harry had hated being in the hospital wing so often, not only because of the injuries, but the boredom too. After a time the walls practically blinded you and if you had nothing to do besides look at those walls recovery seemed much more painful than getting injured. She should be at home already, reunited with her parents and relaxing. Instead she was stuck at St. Mungo's and it didn't seem as if the healers would discharge her before the walls had blinded her. At least I am awake.

The last thought led her to thinking about one of her best friends, who hadn't even awakened since his run in with a brain. She knew that that kind of encounter and Ron's reaction to it usually would give so much material for jokes to his older twin brothers, but lately not one member of the Weasley family had been in the mood for joking. Ron was in a coma, that he possibly wouldn't come out of and Ginny was missing. And Harry, who had been an honorary Weasley since before his and Ron's second year in Hogwarts had gone through the Veil of Death. Even its name seemed properly ominous and Hermione held little hope of his survival.

At this thought her eyes filled with tears. Stupid, noble prat, why couldn't you think for once? Harry had done so many stupid things over the years she had known him, but this was the stupidest of them all. Running into the Veil of Death after Sirius! Nobody had ever come back from there. And this time it wasn't even in Harry's power to make this right, but maybe, just maybe, his stubbornness would help him — either to find Sirius or to come back to them.

July 3, 1996
England, Little Hangleton

There was a hole by an old manor in a place where most people wound just feel some an aversion to go to because of the smell. The only exception was when somebody needed to dispose of something. Lately these somethings had become more and more disturbing — previously the hole had been used to dispose of weeds and other unwanted plants, but ever since the death of one Frank Bryce the hole had been used by Death Eaters to hide the corpses of their victims. And the last thing that had been thrown in that hole was Ginny Weasley's corpse. But something odd was happening in this place — the air seemed to clear for a moment, the dreadful smell practically completely disappearing and a white light appearing. It was the kind of light that would leave anyone who looked at it blinded for a few moments after turning away, but for some odd reason there would be no desire to turn away. And the source of this odd light was the girl's body. Sadly, the light show didn't last long and the whiteness started to dim and the night return to its normal dark self, just like it had been before the appearance of the light. However, one thing was different. The hole was a little emptier — Ginevra Molly Weasley had disappeared.