Title: The War We Fight
Summary: This is the story of a war. A war between good and evil, light and dark. This is the war Harry will fight, fight until the last breath leaves his body. This is where he will learn the meanings of life and death, love and friendship, sorrow and betrayal, honour and hardship. This is the war where he will fulfil his destiny.
H/G with some R/H sixth year fic.
Disclaimer: Nothing here belongs to me, as anyone reading this probably knows. I'm only enjoying myself while waiting for HBP.
A/N: Sorry for the long wait, this was a hard chapter, with lots of dialogues, and Real Life is starting to catch up with me. I hope you all enjoy, though, and leave a nice review, to let me know that there are people reading and enjoying this. I don't have anyone special to dedicate this to, so to everyone who read, and left a few words of encouragement. This chapter is dedicated to all my reviewers, you all know who you are.
Future years will never know the seething hell and the black infernal background, the countless minor scenes and interiors of the war; and is it best they should not. The real war will never get in to the books...
Walt Whitman
Chapter five: When all that's left is hope.
It really was amazing, the way that man was able to override all objections, and do things exactly the way he wanted, with no regard whatsoever to the wishes of others. The last few hours had given her quite a new perspective from which to see Harry's letters about Dumbledore. If the headmaster dealt with him like he had dealt with her, she was surprised Harry hadn't reacted sooner.
Insinuations, half words, most of the conversation left unsaid, veiled treats all in a half hour chat. No wonder he was the leader of the light, the man certainly knew how to make things turn out the way he wanted them to. She had always taken pride in her ability to hold her own, she had a lot of practice: the seventh child, the only girl, if she wanted something, she had to fight for it – especially when the boys ganged on her. And yet, her headmaster had discarded all her wishes, without a second thought. And she would be lying if she said she didn't resent his meddling.
She had been open enough, had told him all she knew, couldn't he tell her enough to allay her own worries? It wasn't as if she would suddenly be inducted into the order, simply because Voldemort had decided to contact her. Harry, who was much more deserving, still hadn't joined. Truth be told, there was no reason at all to drag her name into this mess, and she would feel much safer if it wasn't. However, she had seen more then enough proof that her wishes counted as less than nothing.
He had looked deep into her eyes, and she felt as though he was making a quick sweep of her mind (quite possible; she had learned from Harry that Dumbledore was one of the most skilled Legilimens of the age) and had said quite calmly, quite gently, not at all the voice one would expect from someone who had just overruled her most tender desire, that they needed all the information they could gather, and that her input would be most welcome. He had flattered her, made her feel important, and wrapped her around his little finger. It had been too late by the time she had come to her senses.
Ginny didn't mind telling the Order about her dream, but she did mind her mother learning of the dream, and her mother was part of the Order. So, as she stood, preparing to tell a bunch of wizards and witches she barely knew, about one of the most emotionally charged experiences of her life, she readied herself for the confrontation that would follow. There was no way Molly Weasley would let this particular deception pass. And for once, Ginny seriously doubted her father would be much help.
Once she stopped talking, Dumbledore stood, thanked her for being so open and thorough, and made a small gesture, inviting her to leave. She ignored the sign, feigning confusion, and sat down. She doubted Dumbledore would press the issue in front of the whole Order, and there was no chance in hell she would leave, anyway. She had done as she was told; sitting in the rest of the meeting was a very slight compensation.
With a slight frown, he turned to the rest of the people assembled in her living room, and started talking. His voice was level, calm and grave, his eyes had the same twinkle they always had. He didn't seem at all disturbed by Harry's obvious kidnapping. She wondered how he did that; she was barely holding herself together as it was. Was he so hardened by suffering and war that he didn't feel the individual losses anymore? But Harry wasn't just anyone: he was the whole wizarding world's beacon of hope, the last defiance of the light. How could he calmly preside over yet another meeting, as if his worst concern was Voldemort's plans for the future?
"Yesterday, I received, in the early hours of the morning, a hastily scribbled note from Harry, expressing his fear that his house was under attack. I reacted with a great deal of scepticism, his place of residence is one of the most heavily protected in the whole of England, and a guard was present at all times. I decided to check on him nonetheless, as he isn't usually easily scared, and he doesn't usually ask for assistance without good cause."
Here he paused, and for the first time Ginny noticed some kind of emotion hastily cross the wizened face. It was gone so fast, that she thought she might have imagined it all.
"I found the two aurors that were guarding the house dead, the hall and the living room of the house nearly destroyed, and Harry's wand and invisibility cloak tossed in a corner. Harry was obviously correct in his assumptions, and Death Eaters did attack his house that night. He was not taken quietly though. Harry put on quite a fight, if the state of the house is any indication. His relatives seemed slightly distressed by the situation, but I explained what had happened to them, and that immediate action would be taken to find their nephew."
At this point, Remus, who was paler than usual, and had such an expression of pain and worry etched in his face that made him look quite pitiable, made the remark that had been in the tip of her tongue. Quite forcefully, might be added.
"As if they care! They were probably worried about their precious furniture, and the paint in their spotless wall! These miserable…"
Dumbledore silenced him with a look, warning him about where that would take them, and Ginny was disappointed when Remus complied, and let Dumbledore finish his speech.
"A few hours later I received an owl from Charlie Weasley, where he explained roughly what Miss Weasley just told us."
When she heard this, Mrs. Weasley turned indignantly to her son and cried:
"You knew! You knew and you didn't tell me! What kind of son are you?" her mother seemed much angrier at Charlie for not telling her, than she was at Ginny, and she felt a little sorry for getting her brother in a tight spot.
"Hey!" He shot a reproachful glance at Ginny, who made an effort to ignore him. "Ginny made me promise. I tried to convince her to tell, but I couldn't force her. It wasn't my secret to tell either, I wasn't going to go against her wishes. Plus, we alerted the Order and took steps to ensure her safety." He said defensively. Then he looked apologetically at his brother before continuing. "And I wasn't the only one who knew. Bill knew everything!"
"That's no excuse" Mrs. Weasley huffed, then turning to Bill. "I'm extremely disappointed in you, William! I expected much more from you, I thought you knew better than to keep something like that from your mother."
"Ginny asked, mom. I wasn't about to break her trust and go against her expressed wishes. Not when she had come to me for help." Said Bill, standing by his decision, even faced with his mother's wrath. It was in moments like this that Ginny remembered why she had always trusted Bill so much. He was reliable, and he wasn't afraid to face the consequences of his decisions. She smiled gratefully at him, and he gave a small smile back.
"Ginny is a child!" Yelled Molly in her shrillest voice. "She doesn't know how to deal with these things!" No one spoke, but Ginny felt her eyes blazing. Her brothers obviously didn't know what to answer to this, so she spoke instead.
"Actually, mother, I knew exactly what I was doing. I was preventing a scene like this one. I'm sorry if I sound rash, but this is the truth. And now I think we should hear what else Professor Dumbledore has to say."
Her mother's eyes had opened wide, her daughter's tone had obviously hurt her, but it was time she realized she wasn't a child anymore, Ginny was sorry it had to be like this, in the middle of an order meeting, and with such cutting words. She could only hope that with some time, things might improve, and her mother would get past the image she had of her daughter as a six year old baby girl, who had to she shielded from the world.
The headmaster cleared his throat, slightly uncomfortable, and began speaking again.
"I believe that it is quite clear that Voldemort," roughly half the room flinched, "is planning to use Ginny in some fashion in order to make Harry provide him with information that he desperately needs. What this means is that, firstly, at least for the time being, Voldemort needs Harry alive and that secondly, Harry isn't talking."
Suddenly Tonks, who had been silent trough the whole meeting, content with simply hearing what the others had to say, asked.
"But why Ginny? I mean, Ron or maybe Hermione would certainly be better choices if what You-Know-Who wants is to make Harry talk. He wants to excite Harry's compassion. Then why not take one of his closest friends? Some of the people he knows Harry couldn't live without? It certainly worked with Sirius!"
She furrowed her brow, deep in thought, trying to figure out the intricate workings of a psychotic Dark Lord. A futile attempt, in Ginny's humble opinion. But the fact remained that Tonks line of questioning hit a nerve with Ginny. She was feeling rather irresponsible for writing that much to Harry, knowing that there was a very high possibility that the post was being watched. They hadn't compromised the Order, but they certainly unveiled some deep feelings in their letters, that could easily be used against them.
But the more she thought, as the meeting continued, the less she regretted her actions. The good it had brought, far outweighed the potential danger that might befall them. It was true that she was in danger, and that her letters had reminded Tom of her existence, but if she hadn't written, Harry would be so far gone, that being held captive might very well be the last drop to send him over the edge, into what, she wasn't sure, but it wouldn't be pretty. As it was, she was confident, that if they got him out alive, he might, with time and help, recover from this blow and move on. The only itch was the very big if in the middle of her sentence.
"Maybe, he just wanted to test his link with Ginny... See if what his old self had with her was still working. That should be reason enough. For him anyway. Professor, maybe Ginny should learn Occlumency, it might help her." After that little tangent, the metamorphmagus settled back in her chair, satisfied with her reasoning, and content to simply listen to the rest of the meeting.
Dumbledore smiled slightly and answered the young woman.
"I planned some lessons for Harry, and I see no reason why Ginny shouldn't partake in them too. It will surely be profitable for both of them."
"Albus, we all know the situation, but what will we do to get him out of there. You know what they do in those places, every second is agony, and we can't leave Harry there any more than necessary. I'm glad you think we can hope to find him alive, but right now, I think we should all focus on a way to get Harry out of there." Remus, who was already extremely pale, was turning slightly green around the edges as he turned to the rest of the room, and said in such a pleading voice, that tightened the not in Ginny's chest. "You all know what Death Eaters do to their prisoners!"
Tonks, seated beside him, reached out and took his hand, squeezing comfortingly.
"I know Remus." And the stoic headmaster himself seemed to pale slightly at the thought. "But we have no idea as to the location of Voldemort's headquarters. Our best supposition would be the basements of Malfoy Manor, but they are just that, suppositions. I sent Moody and Mundungus to investigate, if they manage to gather any conclusive information, we might attempt a rescue mission."
"That's not good enough! This will take weeks! He might not last weeks!" cried Remus desperately.
The headmaster hung his head despondently, obviously affected by Remus outburst. Turning to all those presents, he spoke in an obviously forcibly cheerful voice.
"Harry is very important to our cause. We cannot lose him. We will do everything humanly possible to rescue him, even a full-fledged attack if we must. He is, until further notice, our number one priority. I will speak to our inside man and try to gather as much information as possible. I impress upon you the need to track down known members, see if there has been any kind of change in their routine, or in their behaviour that may tip us in the right direction. You are all to stand by, ready to be called to the field at any given time. Remus, Tonks, you will be staying at the Burrow until the end of the summer, if it can be arranged, or, if it isn't possible, all the Weasley are to be removed to headquarters. The first option is, in my opinion, less disruptive and less likely to draw unwanted attention, can it be arranged Molly?"
The still disgruntled woman nodded wearily, and Dumbledore continued speaking.
"Very well, that's settled then. I'll be at Hogwarts, should anyone need to contact me. Is there anything else anyone has to say?"
"Do you think he can escape by himself Albus?" asked Remus desperately "This is Harry Potter we're talking about! He killed a Basilisk when he was twelve!" But the look in the headmaster's eyes was enough answer.
As the room remained silent after that, he drew the meeting to an end, and, after a hasty good-bye, apparated away.
In pairs or in trios, all the members begun to leave, either disaparating or portkeying away. Soon, the only ones left were those staying in the house, plus a despondent Remus and a comforting Tonks. All the Weasley soon left, leaving only Remus and Tonks in the sitting room. The werewolf dropped his head into his hands in defeat, and mumbled.
"Oh Harry, we've all failed you!"
But Tonks, who was still holding one of his hands said, forcing the man look her way.
"You did nothing wrong, Remus, there was nothing you could have done that would have stopped this."
"Yes there is, I should have taken care of him, he is James son! Why did I leave him with those muggles? Sirius had an excuse, he was in jail, and as soon as he got out, he started taking care of Harry. But I didn't. The Ministry said I couldn't have him, and Dumbledore said he was better off with the Dursleys, so I did nothing. I let him go. I didn't even come to visit now and then, to see how he was. What kind of person does that to his best friend son?"
Tonks just held his hand comfortingly, letting him say everything that was eating away at him, trying to take some of the burden.
"James must be so mad! To know that his son grew up with those people, he must be so disappointed. I didn't even come to see him once he started at Hogwarts. I didn't have the excuse that he shouldn't know about the magical world then! He was at school, and I didn't come. Why didn't I insist he stay with me? Even at Grimmauld Place he would have been safe! Why?" His shoulders sagged, and Tonks felt that, if she didn't say something, Remus would break down completely.
"Remus, you couldn't have done anything. Dumbledore said that his relative's house was the safest place. Because of the blood protection." She tried to sound comforting, to make him feel better about the whole situation.
"We should have seen this coming, after all, we knew Voldemort had Harry's blood. And we made him go back to that living hell, to be despised and abused, and it was all for naught. He won't be able to recover from this Tonks, not so soon after Sirius." His voice caught as he struggled to say the name. After a few moments he continued nonetheless. "You don't remember how it was, Dora, during the first war? There were a few who came back alive from those kidnappings, it was, it was awful, Dora. I felt sometimes that they would have been better off dead. And now Harry, I can't... I couldn't bear it, if he came back like that. Everything would be lost then."
"Remus." He didn't look at her, so she waited a few minutes, before calling his name again. "Remus, I know that what's happening is awful. Harry is just a kid; he should be worrying about pranks and girls and what he should wear for the next Hogsmead weekend. But you must realise that none of this is your fault, none of it. Now, stop blaming yourself."
It was a few minutes before he reacted at all to her words. But he eventually smiled slightly at her and whispered. "Thanks Dora. It helped a little to talk about all of this. Thanks for listening"
The young woman grinned back at him and said, in a slightly devious voice.
"Now, I have a very serious conversations to have with Miss Weasley. I want to know exactly what she and Harry have been up to all summer that got to the Dark Lord's ears but not ours. Want to accompany me in my little mission? Come it should be fun, and it will probably lighten the mood a bit around here."
Remus chuckled, but said.
"Leave her alone, Tonks. She's suffering enough as it is, no need to meddle and embarrass her further."
Tonks pouted prettily.
"But I'm curious, and they have been incredibly stupid and careless. Probably sending each other owls all summer, with Hedwig, who isn't exactly a very discreet owl."
"It's true they were careless, but at least... at least Harry had someone to talk to. Maybe some good may come of this. If Ginny managed to pull Harry back together, he might recover better from this whole ordeal."
"Yes, but they still deserve to be teased mercilessly once this is all over.
"Come Dora," said Remus softly, "we must check the wards, and put a few traps around the house."
"Fine, I get it. You want me to leave this alone, at least for now. But little Ginny will get a visit from me soon, she must learn how to properly keep a relationship secret."
Remus didn't bother to answer, as they left the house together. He knew that all Tonks wanted was to lighten the mood in the house a bit, something they all badly needed.
Harry was curled in the cold stone floor, trying to warm himself as best he could with the shabby clothes he had on. They had stationed a dementor just before his door, and if that monster was kept there, he was pretty sure he would go insane. Despair was slowly making its way into his heart. He had just about forgotten what it was like to feel happy. Happiness seemed like such a distant memory, that it might as well have been felt in some other life.
Sometimes, when he could think clearly, he wondered how Sirius had managed to hold on to his mind after twelve years of this torture. The thought sometimes warmed him slightly, bringing forth the memories of his godfather and the hope that he might possibly survive and endure. But the dementor was quick to remind him of incredible loss that had taken him away.
He was waiting for his next visit from his hosts. Sometimes, a long time passed between their visits, other times they would come into his cell, one group after the other, not even giving him time to catch his breath. But they always came back. It seemed to be the new constant in his life. Just as he used to wait for letters from Ginny, he now waited for the next round of torture from Voldemort's servants. They never went too far, knowing that to disregard one of Voldemort's direct orders was a sure way to receive a huge amount of bodily harm. They always came back, though. Always.
He had lost track of time, but he was sure at least a week had already passed. It didn't matter, really. He could remember nothing but pain. Pain, suffering and despair. Time had stopped amid the cold, the chills and the overall suffering he was in. He dreaded the footsteps in the hallway, knowing it brought more pain, but with time, he learned to bear it better, numbing his mind further and further to the cruciatus curse. He felt like thanking Voldemort for forbidding any type of physical harm. It made every visit easier.
He didn't even move now, when they came in, just lay there, knowing that to fight would prove pointless. He was always so heavily outnumbered. He waited for the curse to hit, time and time again. The pain was excruciating, and it didn't seem to bother the masked men that it was no use to torture him. He refused to even scream, so there was no chance that he would suddenly pour forth the prophecy.
His only source of contentment in the dreary cell that had become his residence was that he hadn't screamed. Not once. He didn't want to give those monsters the pleasure of seeing him beg. And seeing the effect it had on his captors, the growing frustration and irritation, gave him a perverse sort of satisfaction.
Sometimes, when the dementor wasn't very near, when it had moved down the corridor, or left for some time. In times when, for a few moments, Harry felt like his normal self, he felt like he should be attempting to escape. He remembered that Sirius had escaped, and that he should do the same thing. Sirius had escaped for him, and he should escape for his friends. For Ginny, whom he had yet to thank, for Ron and Hermione, who had never left him. For all these people, who, at one time or the other, had crossed his path, helped him. They deserved to have a chance at a normal life, without a crazy madman, with too much power for his own good trying to conquer the world.
But those thoughts never lasted long once the dementor returned. They were pushed to the far end of his mind, which filled instantly with unwanted images and sounds. Boggarts were right, Harry realized. He hated those monsters with a passion. Hated his helplessness when he was faced with them. The way he couldn't fight his own feelings, his own thoughts, his own memories. And he hated it.
He felt, with a deep sense of certainty that went beyond simple reasoning that if he didn't get out of here soon, he was going to either die, when one of the Death Eaters lost his patience, or Voldemort got his information from someone else; or go insane from the pain and the despair, and most certainly from the foul creature at his door. And for once in his life, Harry admitted that he was afraid. Not of dying, but of losing his sanity.
Once, in his way to Voldemort's throne room, as he had done a few times (to have a variation of the same conversation that always led to nowhere) in the middle of his week and a half of captivity, Harry's eyes fell on a jar of floo powder, sitting atop a majestic fireplace. And in that moment he knew, that if he somehow escaped from his cell, he could get out of the house easily enough. It was a pretty big if, Harry realized, but the knowledge that he wouldn't have to wander trough that manor, alone and lost, was comforting, and gave him hope. And Ginny had said, in one of her letters, that once you have hope, accomplishing seemingly impossible goals becomes much easier. How right she was.
But in the return trip, faced once more with the dementor in his doorstep, he realized he would never be able to leave the room. He was too weak, and that door didn't open by regular means. Little by little he returned to the lethargic state he had been in, so deep in despair he was barely aware of his surroundings. But the plan was etched in his mind, begging to be tried, as nothing could be worse than the situation he was already in. As those disconnected thoughts swirled in his mind, another group of Death Eaters entered the cell, looking for some fun. Harry closed his eyes and waited.
A/N: Here it is! My fifth chapter! I'm so happy to have come this far, you have no idea. Let me know what you think, and I'll be forever grateful, lol. I don't think you'll have to wait very long for next chapter, but I like to have a few chapters ahead of my posting, and right now I have none, so, we'll see!
VoldemortsVeela: The story about the Veritasserum crossed my mind a while back. I'm not sure it is true in cannon, but in my little world, it works! And I also love quotes, so I thought I would put them in my story. Thanks for sticking with me, I love to hear from you!
krissygurl: I'm glad you enjoy the pace, I was a little worried that the story wasn't moving fast enough, so you have no idea how happy I was to get your review. Thanks!
Makotochi: As you've seen in this chapter, they simply weren't enough to protect Harry. The DE dealt with them before even attempting to get to Harry. Thanks for the review, I hope to hear from you again!
socalstephy: It's always nice to hear from you! I did work hard on the conversation between Harry and Voldemort, and I'm happy you enjoyed.