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, honor and hardship. This is the war where he will fulfill 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 wait. I hope this makes up for it. You can blame it on school and RL both of which have taken a turn or the worse this last few days. Don't forget to leave a few words at the end, please. I know there are more people reading this than those who review, it only takes a moment to tell me if you like it or not.

"We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time."

T.S. Eliot

Chapter six: Through the enemy's fingers.

It had been almost two weeks since Harry had been caught. By the end of the month, school would start, and Ginny didn't think she could bear to enter that train, go back to her usual life at school, knowing that Harry was still in danger, suffering in some damp dungeon, far away from her.

She had lost faith in the Order. Days had passed, and they hadn't found him. The last supposition was that his prison was made unplottable by a Fidelius charm, and that, even if they discovered where he was, there was no way they could save him. The ease with which they had accepted that verdict still astounded her.

Her own life was becoming increasingly hellish. She was a prisoner in her own house. She couldn't cross the threshold without "accidentally" bumping into Remus, Tonks, Bill or Charlie. She understood now, why Harry was so set against having people following him around. To have no privacy, to be watched every hour of the day, was slowly grating on her nerves, and nowadays she was having a hard time controlling her temper.

Her arguments with Ron were getting more and more vicious, especially since he had taken it upon himself to blame Harry for putting her in danger by writing. She had thought their friendship was stronger than that. That Harry was more important to Ron than Voldemort and this stupid war they were fighting. That Ron would be able to deal with danger and life and death situations. Apparently not.

There were times when all she could do was stop herself from hexing the git until he couldn't remember his own name. She had talked to Bill about this stupid feud, of which she wanted no part in. He had said that Ron was simply trying to deal with everything that had happened. Almost dying in the Department of Mysteries, Sirius getting killed, the depression Harry had entered, his obvious inability to relate to his friend, and now, the last drop, Ginny being in the Dark Lord's to do list. Instead of facing his problems, trying to find a solution, he blamed others. It made sense, Ginny thought; he blamed her for driving Harry away and Harry for putting her in danger. She understood, in spite of the obvious contradiction, but it didn't make Ron any less of a prat, or living under the same roof as him any more bearable.

Several minutes had already passed, and she was surprised none of her usual baby-sitters had made his way to the garden yet. Maybe she could get a few more minutes of peace, away from the prying eyes of her whole family. But her luck was short lived, and not a minute after she had seated under her favourite tree in the front yard, Tonks came out of the house, looking for her.

"Wotcher, Ginny! There you are; I was looking for you." The auror said lightly, coming to sit beside Ginny. "Mind if I join you?"

"Hi there. And go ahead; I could use some company, instead of wallowing in self pity." She answered, although slightly annoyed at the entirely too joyous tone of the older woman.

Tonks frowned at the girl's tone. It had an underlying sadness that didn't escape her, although Ginny tried hard to hide it. So she asked tentatively, not too sure of the reaction her inquiry would get.

"You're really worried about him, aren't you?"

Ginny's gaze turned away, showing her unwilling to face an obvious truth.

"Of course I'm worried about him, he's my friend." She was immediately on guard. Not that she hadn't been expecting a conversation of this sort; she was more surprised that it had taken this long, after the Order meeting. After that whole deal, she had thought everyone would be dying to know every little morbid detail of her relationship with Harry.

"No Ginny, Ron and Hermione are worried, Charlie and Bill are worried, even Dumbledore is worried, but you..." She paused, at a loss to describe exactly what it was that Ginny was feeling.

"According to Ron, I'm scared." Said Ginny sarcastically, giving a harsh little laugh, as devoid of any humour as one of Voldemort's dementors. "I'm scared because the most powerful Dark Lord of the millennium is after me, and there is nothing I can do. Maybe that's why I look worse than them!" She glared at the older woman for a moment, before adding in an undertone, "Don't you agree with him, Tonks? Don't I look scared to you?"

"Actually, I don't buy any of Ron's crap." Answered Tonks lightly. "He's just trying to deal with too much, he's brain is acting up." She laughed slightly at Ginny's rather put out expression, but asked the question that had been on her mind for the better part of the week. "What happened this summer, Ginny? This whole thing can't be a simple coincidence. Voldemort coming after you, Harry actually showing an ounce of emotional maturity and not drowning in guilt after Sirius died, and now your reaction to his capture. You are getting paler by the day, you've stopped eating, talking... So tell me, Ginny, what is going on?"

Ginny was silent for a long time, so long that Tonks had stopped hoping for an answer, and was about to change the subject of the whole conversation.

"I guess it might do some good to talk to someone about all of this. It's just so hard!" She stopped talking, as her eyes slowly filled with tears. "I think I finally, after all those years, connected with him in a deeper level. I think he finally stopped seeing me as Ron's baby sister. And now, I might never see him again, see the change for myself, see his eyes when he looks at me. I finally had a bit of hope... But now..." She wiped her eyes hastily, but ineffectively as more tears streamed down her face. "He had so many plans for this next year!" She smiled, thinking of Harry's eagerness to go back to school, to see if all the things he had planned would work. "And now, he might never do any of those things, he might never even see Hogwarts again!"

Tonks sat quietly, digesting all that Ginny had told her. She wondered if she should continue her questioning, Ginny seemed pretty shaken, but her curiosity won.

"How did you talk, owl post?" Ginny nodded. "You knew it was being watched! That was a reckless thing to do."

"I guess," answered Ginny noncommittally. "We weren't talking about the war, or the Order, so I thought it wasn't dangerous. I guess I was wrong."

Tonks patted her hand comfortingly, and tried to be gentle.

"We're going to find him, Ginny."

"How, how are you going to find him!" said Ginny, suddenly furious. "You sit in those blasted Order meetings, discussing plans and strategies, making arrangements, and all the while the only one suffering is Harry! For once in his life, when he actually needs you people, and when you could make a difference, you stand back, losing time!"

"What would you have us do, Ginny? Hunt down every known Death Eater, until someone gives us his location?"

"If you had to! Harry would do that, for any of you! Obviously, you people are quite unable to repay the favour." Ginny's deep brown eyes, still filled with tears, flashed with rage. She was quite the sight, standing there in the middle of the garden, eyes flashing, wind blowing her dark flaming hair.

"Ginny, we aren't doing nothing," the auror rubbed her eyes tiredly. "Things are difficult right now, and there are things I simply can't tell you."

"Then forgive me for keeping my rather unflattering opinion about your Order. You should be ashamed of calling yourselves Order of the Phoenix. Fawkes took action when Harry needed him. He told me that there was no way he could have defeated that basilisk, if Fawkes hadn't blinded him before, and then cured him of the poison. Right now he is miles ahead of you people in my gratitude and appreciation. Phoenix indeed! You are no more a Phoenix then Harry is a… a… worm!"

She continued to glare at Tonks, who sat stunned in place by Ginny outburst. Finally, she whispered.

"Maybe we should have a bit of faith in Harry, too. He got out of tight spots before."

"You're right. In all this mess, the only person I still have complete faith in is Harry. As for his getting out of this mess on his own, we can always hope."

With those last parting words, Ginny stalked away, to the peace and quiet of her room.

Harry slowly woke up from a light slumber, filled with disturbing dreams, and unwanted visions. Being this close to Voldemort was slowly destroying all the mind shields he had painstakingly built. First came the pain in his scar, every time someone with the Dark mark came to his cell. Then the nightmares, flashes of the Dark Lord's feelings, sometimes even whole thoughts would come forth through their link.

He tried to take a deep breath, but couldn't, he wondered if he was getting ill. Lately he felt like he was drowning in his own body, and a deep searing cough would sometimes seize him, leaving him breathless for a long time afterwards.

He slowly got up, wanting to get some feeling back in his body. His head seemed clear enough, which meant the dementor wasn't near. That didn't make the cell any warmer, though, or the chills that seemed to continually rack his body more bearable. They were probably after-effects of all the cursing he was being subjected to.

His arm too, the one hit with the cutting hex, was in bad shape. A dark, thick, greenish substance was flowing from it, and instead of healing, the wound seemed to be growing. It was obviously infected, and it was spreading to the rest of his arm.

He sat down again, even walking around was tiring these days. He wondered what would happen if he tried to use his magic. Curious, he closed his eyes and letting his mind and his consciousness relax, searched for his centre, his magical core, deep inside his body. It was an exercise he had done countless times during his time at Privet Drive, something he had learned from one of the books Professor Lupin had sent him when he asked for studying material. Usually, all he did was feel the magic flowing around him, a calm and soothing power, a dormant power. However, this time, it reacted.

All awareness of the outside world left him, all he felt, all he could see, was the warmth of his magic, flooding through him, comforting, healing, giving him strength. Later, Harry would never know exactly how much time had passed, minutes, days, weeks as his power answered his call and for at least a little while, gave him the relief he so desperately needed.

Hermione was confused. It wasn't a feeling she was used to, and it was grating on her nerves to never know what to do, or how to act. She had come to the Burrow as soon as the news of Harry's disappearance had reached her. What she found as she walked out of the fireplace wasn't rejoicing.

Ron and Ginny, in the middle of a screaming match. The reason for the argument was completely forgotten, and both were cursing enough to make the Twins proud. She had waited for a few minutes, until they had both calmed down enough to notice her presence. After a quick hello, Ginny had left the room, scowling at Ron the whole time. Smiling tentatively, she had asked him what was happening.

"Nothing is happening." He had snapped, taking her bags and carrying them to her room without another word.

Things had all gone downhill from there. She had tried to remain neutral in their small feud, to no avail. Not giving her opinion was as good as backing Ginny up, as far as Ron was concerned. And she wasn't about to lose her only remaining friend on account of a stupid sibling fight. She hadn't given up on Harry yet, but she needed someone to help her through this whole ordeal, and that only left the red headed git.

With that in mind, she had decided to go after Ron, to sit him down, and to work through everything that was eating him up. After all, friends were there to do this kind of things, she thought.

She found him in the Orchard, flying loops in his old Cleansweep. It was an amazing sight, to see Ron flying. It was the only time she ever saw him actually concentrating on something he was supposed to do. His hair windblown, his eyes sparkling from exertion. This was the reason she liked him, this hidden passion that made her breath catch and her heart beat faster. Not that he knew the effect that he had on her. But this was not the place to think about it. She called out to him, and he landed gracefully in front her.

"Hi Ron," she said lightly, "I was wondering if we could talk."

"Sure, what do you want?" He was oblivious to her obvious nervousness, but she kept going nonetheless.

"Could we sit down somewhere? It's rather important." She couldn't quite meet his eyes.

They made their way to a bench, near the back yard of the house, hidden by a few tall bushes.

"Well, Hermione," prompted Ron, "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"I, I wanted to know how you were." She took a deep breath. "How you were feeling about Harry's disappearance, and Ginny, and everything. I wanted to talk to you." She was pleading with him. Ron had never heard her voice plead; he felt a deep ache in his chest at the sound. But it wasn't enough to melt the knot of resentment, anger and hurt that had been steadily growing in him since the beginning of the holidays.

"I'm fine." He didn't say so much as growl.

"Ron, please! Talk to me! It will do you no good to keep all of this inside of you. You can't keep going like this!"

"There is nothing to talk about. After everything we did for him, Harry put Ginny in danger. He should have known better. And Ginny doesn't realise that, and still thinks that he is some kind of super hero, saviour of the whole blasted world." The bitterness in his voice was painful. She would have never expected to hear that tone in someone so young, with so much to look forwards to.

"Ron! You can't honestly believe that, can you? Ginny was the one who wrote to him, it was her choice."

How she wished he would listen to her, see reason. But she knew it was a foolish wish. He would have to deal with everything that was happening on his own, first. Voldemort and the war, they were already taking their toll on them, straining their friendship. She wondered what they would be like after it had all ended, if it ended one day, and if they would be able to move on, back to their normal lives once again. Everything had changed after the night of the third task. Everything.

"I obviously believe that, Hermione, I wouldn't say it otherwise. Don't get me wrong, I'm sorry that Harry was kidnapped and everything and I hope he gets back okay, but it doesn't change the fact that I'm mad at him for doing this to us."

"What should he have done then, when she wrote?" She asked, not letting the annoyance she felt appear in her tone.

"The same thing he did to our letters, ignore it." He got up, and kicked a pebble on the path, that went flying into his mother's roses. "How could he do this to us, Hermione? How could he ignore us so completely and totally after all these years and instead spend the whole summer writing to Ginny?"

That was it, then, he was jealous of the attention Ginny got from his best mate. Typical Ron, she thought fondly.

"Maybe, Ron, there was something that Ginny was writing, something she said, that we didn't. You know that no one can force Harry to do anything, and that he hates to be pushed. We must try to understand him too, Ron. He was hurting after Sirius, and he wasn't quite himself." She tried to reason with him.

"That doesn't mean anything. He could have talked to us, we would have listened, instead, he put Ginny in danger. He knew that anyone he became close to would be in danger."

"That includes you, Ron. But it didn't stop you, or Harry for that matter, from becoming friends."

"He didn't have to put Ginny in that position. She's suffered enough at the hands of You-Know-Who."

"And that's exactly why she wanted to help Harry. She knows what it feels like to be in his place, even more then we do."

"It doesn't matter!" roared Ron. "Don't you see Hermione? She could die because of this! She should never have been involved in this bloody war in the first place."

Yes, Hermione saw quite clearly. But Ron was delusional if he actually thought that Ginny was going to simply sit back and let others fight this war. It was her war, after all, just as much as it was Harry's. She and Tom Riddle had some unfinished business.

"He won't crack. This is useless. We should just kill him and be done with it."

Harry had still been bathing in the pleasant warmth of his magic when those two had come in. The one who had spoken was the smallest, the one actually doing the cursing. The other, a tall imposing figure, seemed content in indulging in a bit of voyeurism. He spoke, however, when the other made that particular remark. Harry was glad; it gave him time to recover from the last round of torture.

"We are not to harm him. The master gave specific orders." Harry hadn't heard this voice yet. It was low and dense, a pleasant voice, except for the underlying cruelty, plainly visible to all.

When Harry processed the words, he couldn't help but chuckle. Not to harm him? What where they doing then? Fooling around?

"I believe he has greater plans for the boy." The tall man continued. "Be careful, you wouldn't want to compromise them. But by all means, continue with your little game, I have other things to do."

With those words, thrown over his shoulders, he left the cell. The other Death Eater muttered angrily and cursed Harry again, who growled and curled to his side as the pain hit him, in unforgiving waves, seeming to stretch on forever.

The men lifted the curse, seemingly satisfied, for the time being. Turning to Harry's prostrate form, he grunted. "I'll come back for you later. We have a lot of catching up to do, you and me. Fourteen years in Azkaban aren't a pleasant experience, Mr. Boy-Who-Lived."

He turned, and opened the cell door with a wave of his wand. Harry's eyes snapped open. He was finally alone in the room with a single Death Eater, and the Dementor wasn't anywhere near. This was his chance. He had to take a leap. It was obvious the Order had no idea of where he was, or they would have done something. He was on his own. And this was an opportunity he couldn't miss.

Focusing on everything he was fighting for, and on Ginny's words in that letter, about hope, with superhuman effort he got to his feet. The man, surprised by the movement, turned around, away from the door. Harry didn't give him the time to utter a curse, and lunged bodily at the man. They were both knocked from their feet, and fell in an undignified heap on the muddy floor. The wand rolled away from the struggle.

Harry felt the magic that had already helped him that day react from the fight. He could feel it at his fingertips, begging to be used, to be released from his tight control.

They rolled on the floor. The smaller, but heavier man finally ending up on top of Harry, and restraining him bodily. The Death Eater was about to cry out for help when Harry said from underneath him.

"I wouldn't do that, if I where you." His voice was raspy from disuse, but understandable. The man closed his mouth and looked at him as if he had suddenly lost his mind, so Harry continued, while he caught his breath from the fight, and made a last dash. "What would Voldemort do, if he learned that you couldn't handle one unarmed, underage wizard on your own? I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be pleasant."

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw the door begin to close, inch by inch. He couldn't let that happen, or he would be stuck there again. He finally had a small hope of escaping, he wouldn't let it pass.

Closing his eyes, he felt his magic again. And a small passage from the book Hermione had given him came to mind.

The wand, or more specifically, the magical core of the wand, serves as a focus point for the power from the wizard himself, enabling him to shape the magic according to his will. Legends tells that, in ages past, wizard-kind had enough power, that the focus of the wand was unnecessary, and that most witches and wizards could cast without one, using their own body as a conduit to the power. To master this particular method, wizards had to have a very strong link between their body and their magical core, and sufficient will power to bend the energy to their will.

In a wand, the magic contained in the core, the phoenix feather, dragon heartstrings, unicorn hair and other substances that are completely magical, attracts other magic, easing the whole process, enabling the witch or wizard to cast.

The book then went on to state that, although theoretically possible, the whole thing was probably a myth, impossible to accomplish. But now, as Harry felt his magic, spreading through his body, he wondered if it was really a myth, and wondered what would happen if he set his magic free, and let it fly.

At a loss for what else to do, he closed his eyes, and released all the power that had been concentrating inside of him. There was a blinding flash, and suddenly he couldn't feel the man's weight pressing down on him anymore. Blearily he opened his eyes, and saw the unconscious form of one of his captors. Wasting no time, he got up again, and rushed to the door, just as it was about to close. He had the presence of mind to grab the other wizard's wand on his way out.

The dementor was on the other end of the corridor, but Harry doubted he could conjure a patronus in the state he was in, so he simply ran the other way, towards the stairs and the fireplace he knew existed, at the end of the corridor.

He was surprised when he had to stop, every so often, to catch his breath, and wondered, not for the first time, what was wrong with him. He finally reached the fireplace, and after a bit of effort, managed to conjure a fire. Dropping a pinch of floo powder, he hesitated for a moment. Where should he go? The Burrow? Headquarters? Or Hogwarts? He heard a noise in the other end of the corridor, and decided that the school would be the safest option, if only Dumbledore were there.

Stepping into the fire, he whispered "The Three Broomsticks", tucked in his elbows, and prayed that for once, he arrived safely where he wanted to.

Miles away, as she was about to enter her house, Ginny felt an acute pain grip her heart. Feelings and thoughts foreign to her nature cursed through her, anger, hatred, cruelty, and she felt a message being forced into her brain.

It was the same voice as the one in her dream, speaking, murmuring in her ear.

"You are safe for now, my lovely Ginevra; I have no more use for you. But don't hope for a very long rest, I will come for you again, and this time, there will be no escaping."

He left, leaving her weak and trembling, but with a new hope blossoming. As Tonks, who had seen her collapse came rushing over, all she could do was mutter "He's escaped! Harry escaped!" before blackness overtook her.

A/N: I hope this lived up to your expectations! Next chapter: Harry's arrival at Hogwarts, and everyone's reaction to him! Don't forget to leave a few words, they always make my day!

dude04, squirt12c, haydenrocks14: Thanks for the reviews, I hope you keep reading.

Tenolian: Sorry for the long wait. RL kinda got in the way of my writing. I hope you enjoy the chapter, though.

VoldemortsVeela: It's always a pleasure hearing from you. Are you sure all the praise is for me? Lol, I'm really glad you are still liking this and I hope you drop a few lines for this chapter too.

OfficersWife: Well, at least you got this notice. I hope you enjoyed his escape, as it's a crucial point of the story, and many things will develop from here. Thanks for the review! (ps: why the change in name?)