She was not avoiding Harry.
She was not avoiding Harry.
No matter how much Ginny ducked through the crowd when she saw him coming, she was not avoiding Harry. And, to some extent, it was true.
Bill and Fleur had been married for an official two hours. Now, under a huge floating canopy, the reception was in full swing.
Never before had Ginny seen so many of her close and distant relatives in one place at one time. Still, no matter how much she tried to focus on her conversation with Cousin Sophia, a nagging feeling always brought her eyes to Harry.
He seemed a little lost, dressed and disguised in a plump red-head's skin. As she watched, he wandered through the throng, not really socializing with anyone. She felt sorry for him. But after what happened last night…she wasn't ready to…
"Ginny? Hey! Are you listening?" Cousin Sophia yelled in her ear.
"N-no," said Ginny, returning her attention to Sophia and trying to ignore the intense ringing of her ear drum. "I'm sorry. What was that you were saying?"
"Oh," Sophia sighed, winding one of her intense red curls around her finger, "I was just thinking out loud about how much I love weddings!"
"Um, that's nice. I like weddings too."
"I don't like them—I love them!" Sophia cried, throwing her arms in the air, "I mean, don't you fantasize about what it'll be like? The dress, the favors, and the bond! Can you imagine what the bond would be like? Being tied to someone physically and mentally?"
Ginny's mind shattered.
Sophia didn't notice…She just kept on gushing…
About a bond.
The bond.
Could she imagine? Of course she could. She spent half the night lying awake in complete awe about it. Even now, standing here, she could feel it.
She wanted to tell Sophia how amazing, scary, exhilarating it was. What would someone—a family member—say if they found out she was, for all intents and purposes, married? Because that's what she was, right? Bonded with Harry in a Bond of Marriage?
"Um, Sophia?" breathed Ginny, her voice shaky. "Sophia!"
"…and I want all of my bridesmaids—Huh? Did you say something?"
"Yes…I'm sorry, but—I, uh, I need more punch! I'll be right back!" And with that, Ginny left Sophia at the side of the dance floor, disappearing into the crowd.
She got as far as the nearest tree from the party and collapsed. Putting her back to the rough bark, Ginny closed her eyes and immersed herself in the bond. Out here in the night, Harry's presence in her mind seemed to glow. Blue-white electricity that shocked her senses.
Back under the canopy, Harry was confused and annoyed about something. With her eyes and her mind, she searched for him. It wasn't very easy, what with the distance she'd put between them. From the tree, Ginny could just make out the shock of red curly hair that was Harry. She almost forgot he was incognito.
He was definitely talking to someone. Two some ones. And, by the looks of the horrible old-lady hat perched on one of the heads, Harry had landed himself the honor of conversing with Aunt Muriel. (Old bat, Ginny thought.) The other person was an elderly wizard Ginny had never seen before. He appeared very upset by whatever Aunt Muriel was barking about.
Poor Harry looked absolutely helpless with confusion as Aunty Muriel and the wizard dueled back and forth with words. Aunty Muriel was obviously winning, to Ginny's distaste.
Suddenly—from the stars themselves it seemed—a great orb of light plummeted out of the sky. It ghosted through the canopy and landed in the middle of the dance floor. Ginny couldn't hear the words it spoke, but by the reaction she felt in Harry, the news it brought wasn't good.
Bolting upright, Ginny began to run and—
She was under the canopy. The party-goers were panicking—fleeing, dissaperating, screaming.
She fought against them, trying to reach Ron and Hermione. Fear gripped her stomach, choked her throat.
Shadowed figures pressed in from all sides, moving through the crowd, stunning and preventing people from leaving.
Hands grabbed her own, spun her on the spot, and—
"Oi! Get up! Don't bother tryin' to fight. I've killed hundreds of innocents an' I'm not afraid to do the same t' you."Grunted a fowl black outline above her.
She was on the ground, not far from the base of the tree she'd rested under.
A wand nudged her smartly, it's master not giving her mind time to regroup. Ginny got to her feet, bewildered and a bit faint.
The Death Eater holding her by wand point smiled crookedly. "If I was you, I'd keep my wand away." He prodded her in the back, corralling her back under the canopy, where the other hostages were.
Under the threat that anyone who lied would be given a dose of the Cruciatus curse, each party guest was questioned. Suspicious hostages were sent to one group after being questioned, where they were re-questioned under the Cruciatus curse. Those who were not suspicious were sent to a second group.
Struggle as she might, Ginny failed to keep her mind in her current circumstance. One moment she was waiting in line—the next she was in a dimly lit café fighting two muggle-clad death eaters. Waiting in line—in the dark trying to figure out what to do. Approaching her questioner—dissaperating from the café.
When the death eater asked what her problem was, Ginny stated that she had hit her head when she fell, and now had a headache. This was somewhat true. Each trip into Harry's mind was a blue lightening of pain through her entire being. Each time she came to, her hands were gripping her skull and her legs were jelly. It was close to impossible to answer a single question without being sucked back into Harry's world.
After what felt like hours, the death eater questioning her let her go, pointing to the unsuspicious group. Her mother, Fred, and Remus Lupin were already there.
"Ginny, are you alright? Are you hurt?" Her mother enfolded her into her arms. Ginny hugged her firmly.
Another flash gripped her, revealing a rather familiar interior of a house.
Over her mother's shoulder, Ginny met Remus's eyes. "I have information," she breathed, so soft only the four of them heard.
Fred looked around for the death eater keeping their group together. "'ey! You! Yeah, you. D' you mind if I head back to the house for a bit? I gotta take a leak!"
"You'll stay where you are!"
"Look, buddy, I really gotta go!"
Using Fred's distraction, Ginny whispered, "Gimmauld Place." Lupin nodded, understanding exactly what she meant.
Tired and drained, Ginny relaxed. If Harry was really in number twelve Gimmauld Place, he would be safe—if only temporarily. All she could do was hope…and hold onto her connection with Harry like a drowning man to a lifeline.
Gimmauld Place was deadly quiet. Ron and Hermione had fallen asleep not long ago. Nothing was keeping them awake now that Mr. Weasley had sent words of safety.
Harry didn't need those words, however. His connection to Ginny had shown him. It was Ginny herself he needed. As ridiculous as it sounded—even to him—the lack of her presence worried him. Not just her presence in their bond—her physical presence.
Lying awake in a house that slept made him feel extremely lonely.
He willed his heart to slow, to match each beat with Ginny's. Soothing, calming his nerves. In a matter of minutes, Harry was asleep, his mind touching Ginny's.