CHAPTER 13

The day they were taken

"George!" Shouted Mrs. Weasley, "are you insane? You can't just drop it on someone like that!"

"Sorry mum, but I wonder how many times I'm going to have to repeat it… maybe I can just write on Harry's head 'I'm Harry Potter!' Might be worth it..." Harry laughed as Mrs. Weasley bent down to Mr. Weasley's side.

"Arthur?" She queried, tapping his cheeks, "…Arthur? Are you okay?"

"I'll go get some water," George said, standing and walking towards the kitchen.

"Sorry," Harry muttered,

"It wasn't your fault dear – it was George's," she replied pointedly. "That boy…" she mumbled under her breath just as George returned with the water. Harry saw that Mr. Weasley's eyes were moving under his eyelids and they slowly appeared to be opening.

"That's it," Mrs. Weasley encouraged, "come on Arthur." Mr. Weasley's eyes flew open and darted around the room for a moment.

"What happened?" He queried, rubbing the back of his head, feeling the sore spot where he had landed.

"You fainted," muttered George, thrusting the glass of water into his hands. Mr. Weasley frowned for a moment, then his eyes bulged – suddenly remembering. He sat up so suddenly that he had to close his eyes for a moment – as if the world was spinning all around him; he then stared at Harry, mouth agape. Harry smiled for a moment, and offered Mr. Weasley his hand, which he took gratefully, coming to a standing position.

"Harry!... how?" He said, pulling him into an embrace. George sighed impatiently,

"Mum, can you fill him in? I'm absolutely wrecked, and I'm gathering Harry is too – we've had a really long day…" Harry felt rude leaving a teary-eyed Arthur to go to sleep, but his eyes stung with tiredness, his body heavy – he longed for a bed. As they ascended the stairs Harry heard Mr. Weasley's give of a yelp of happiness, followed by a choked up,

"Oh Molly!" And a happy, relieved laugh, Harry smiled quietly to himself. As they reached the next level, Harry took a moment to glance around at the houses interior. It had a warm feeling to it – the carpet was a soft maroon and the walls were dark, wooden and strong. George led Harry down the hall and to the last room on the right. It was filled with three beds, each identical,

"I want you to stay in the same room as me," muttered George, "your face might be healed but I still don't trust that wound on your chest… how is it feeling?"

"Better," Harry said truthfully, "it still stings, but it's better." George nodded and indicated for Harry to sit, he obeyed. George then removed all the bandages again, and tilted his head, regarding the wounds severity.

"Wow, Ginny can work wonders," he smirked. Harry looked down, the flesh now met without a gaping hole between the two sides. Although it still looked red and painful, it was a serious improvement.

"Let me know if it opens again, but I think you can go without the bandages now." George sat on the bed opposite Harry, his hands between his knees. "This has all happened so quickly," he said in monotone, frowning at something Harry couldn't see. At first Harry thought he was talking about his wound healing – but the look in his eyes told him that George wasn't talking about that.

"I know."

"It hasn't been the same," he muttered, running his hand over his face – Harry could see that what he was saying was truth, and painful to admit. "When you said Ginny had changed… It made me sad, because it's true. I wanted to protect her from grief… I'm her big brother, you know? I might have been a pain in the behind, but I never ever wanted to see her lose so much – and for her to change because of it." George shut his eyes, and a single tear slid down his cheek.

"Then again, that's a little hypocritical," he muttered. "I know that if Fred were here…" George gave a short, tight breathe. "If Fred were here, he'd be putting me back in line – pointing out what a royal git I've become."

"You're not," Harry said firmly. George sniffed and rubbed his eyes, suddenly embarrassed by what he had said, and that he had for once shown a weak side to himself.

"Sorry," he said with a small laugh, he shifted uncomfortably "so, day after tomorrow huh? … we need to run through a plan – but tomorrow when Gin is here, I'm wrecked." George stated, and laid back on the bed – staring at the ceiling. Harry took this as an indication that the conversation was over and sighed, pushing himself under the covers, falling into a deep sleep as soon as his eyes closed.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting outside the Burrow. The weather was almost perfect, the blue sky covered in only a white froth of cloud. Ron was leaning back in his chair with his wand behind his ear; he pushed on the table with his feet, the chair making a metallic sound against the ground as he rocked.

"You're going to die," Hermione said to Ron, "you're probably going to fall off that thing and impale yourself on something." Hermione was pouring over a large volume of some kind. Occasionally she would read a passage with exuberance, not noticing that neither Harry nor Ron was paying any attention to what she was saying.

"Yes mum, sorry mum," Ron replied, continuing to push himself backwards and forwards in his chair. Suddenly he let out a small laugh, "wouldn't that be funny though? I survive the battle against Voldemort, only to die from rocking on the back of my chair."

"More tragic," Hermione stated.

Harry was paying only little attention to what was happening around the table; his concentration was instead drawn to the Burrow, where he could see Ginny walking in between the rooms. He saw Ginny stop in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. Casually, her eyes flicked to Harry's, as if she had known all along that he was looking at her. Ginny offered him a charming smile and Harry returned it, feeling his heart move up into his throat.

"You should just ask her out again, you know," Hermione said, breaking Harry from his daze.

"What?" He asked. Hermione raised her eyebrows, hand resting on her overly-large book.

"You've been avoiding it ever since Voldemort died." Harry didn't answer, and when he looked back at the Burrow Ginny had disappeared from the window. "I mean, you could cut the tension between you two with a knife… all you've been doing this whole time is duelling with your swords and flirting like crazy."

"Can we please not talk about my sister and my best friend's relationship while I'm at the table?" Ron asked pleadingly, "it's kind of disturbing."

"I'm just saying that's all," muttered Hermione with a small smile. Harry shrugged, his sword sat in front of him – he removed it from its sheath. He was remembering the training session he and Ginny had had on a hilltop by the Burrow that morning.

"Not getting tired are you Gin?" He had muttered, she grinned at him, tossing her own sword hand to hand as a brisk wind rushed over them.

"You wish," she replied. She lunched forward, piercing the air with the blade, he knocked her sword away but she caught it with her left hand. Harry laughed, twirling his sword either side of him, Ginny threw her sword through his and they both fell to the ground with a clatter.

"Now see, what are we going to do now? Imagine I was a Death Eater, you would be dead right now, I have another weapon," he pulled his wand from his pocket, "Accio Sword!" He muttered, and the sword flew into his hand.

"But your not a Death Eater," she said, withdrawing her wand, "Expelliramus!" Harry's wand fell from his hand and flew down the grassy slope. Harry walked up to her,

"Neither are you," he jested, a grin spread across his features. Ginny dropped her wand to her side, looking up at him, Harry ran his hands down her ribs and to small of her back, Ginny dropped her wand, wrapping her arms around his waist,

"A Death Eater wouldn't do that," she whispered as he gently pushed her chin up,

"It's lucky I'm not then," he lowered his face to hers, and with that, their lips met. She parted her lips, pulling him closer towards her,

"Draw your sword," he whispered into her,

"Later," she said back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Harry had been so intent on reliving this memory that he almost didn't hear Ron mutter, "speak of the devil." Ginny was strolling across the yard, arms folded casually in front of her. She immediately walked around to Ron's chair and pushed it back onto four legs. Ron let out an angry grumble which sounded like "women…"

Ginny pulled a chair up between Ron and Harry and jumped into it, her legs crossed.

"How's George?" Asked Hermione immediately with a small concerned frown etched on her face.

"He apparated out about an hour ago, said he was going to make some more produce," Ginny sighed, "he really isn't the same." The table was met with a deep silence as they remembered Fred. Harry hadn't been able to say two words to George since the battle. Mrs. Weasley had insisted he remain at the Burrow for a few weeks, and he grudgingly agreed, although he mostly remained in his room by himself, refusing all visitors. Mrs. Weasley even seemed to be missing the occasional sound of an explosion coming out of that room as Fred and George experimented with different products. Harry had seen her tap on his room a couple of times to ask if he was alright, placing her ear to the door to try and hear any movement or sign of life from within.

The Burrow, usually so full of boisterous noise now felt as if Muffliato had been cast on it. The quiet of the household was more awkward and obvious than any noise Harry had ever heard. Suddenly Ginny turned her head, like she had heard something behind her,

"What is it?" Harry asked, she raised her hand to quieten him, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Do you hear that?" She whispered. Everyone went silent, trying to listen to any possible noise that echoed through the yard. All Harry heard was the slight rustle of the trees as the wind ran through them. But then, slowly, he heard what Ginny was talking about, and it sent a shiver down his spine. There was a faint breathing sound that he had to strain to hear; the breathing did not get lighter or heavier, it was as if someone was watching their every move. His body went into alert and he clutched the hilt of his sword, his eyes darted around the yard.

"I don't hear anythi –,"

"Ron, shut up!" Ginny warned in an urgent whisper. Ginny and Harry looked at each other for a moment with concerned eyes. Slowly, Harry stood and pulled his wand out of his pocket, with his hand still on the hilt of his sword, and started stalking the yard. Harry felt the others behind him doing the same. All of a sudden a small figure jumped out from behind a bush, Harry reacted on instinct and quickly sent a stunning spell in its direction.

The spell hit, and the figure collapsed to the ground. However to much anti-climatic dismay Harry realised that he had officially stunned a gnome, who lay on its little back, it's small ugly face filled with shock. Everyone had come running apprehensively to his side at the sound of Harry's spell, only to stop in their tracks beside him – pocketing their wands and silently laughing out of sheer relief. After a moment, Ron clapped Harry on the back,

"Good on you, you stopped the enemy from attacking us." Harry snorted,

"Well, best to be careful anyway," Ginny muttered, pushing her hair off her shoulder. Everyone pocketed their wands as Harry's heartbeat slowed to a steady rhythm; everyone had been on edge since the battle, the protective charms no longer sat as a boundary, and there were reports of a mass Death Eater break-out from Azkaban.

Harry sighed and resolved to return to his chair, his eyes unfocused; but suddenly he heard Ginny scream in a way that curdled his blood and sent sparks of fear and adrenalin surging through him.

He felt a spell run very close past him and he turned to find the source of it. Two cloaked Death Eaters stood not nearly ten yards away from him, one of them had a hand pressed against Ginny's mouth, the other had his wand pointed at Harry's chest. Ron and Hermione lay stunned at their feet; clearly they were unable to defend themselves – having only just pocketed their wands.

Harry was only able to look at the perpetrators for a split-second before he jumped to the ground to dodge another stunning spell, the soft ground staining his knees. He turned around only to see four other Death Eater's circling him, their wands raised. Whatever they were doing, it was becoming evident that they weren't out to kill him. He reached for his wand as a clog rose in his throat. Another stunning spell was sent after him – he rolled and aimed his wand at the closest Death Eater.

"Stupefy!" He yelled, it hit the Death Eater who wasn't holding Ginny, and he fell to the ground with a muffled thump.

"That wasn't very nice Potter," the other one jeered as he put a hand around Ginny's neck, as if using her as a shield – Ginny let off a frightened squeak.

"Let go of her!" He yelled, raising his wand.

Harry swore he saw an evil grin on the mouth of the Death Eater, despite the fact his face was cloaked. Harry moved towards him, wand still cautiously rose, desperate to pry Ginny away from the man. Ginny was warning him to stay away with her eyes, but he didn't pay any attention to it. The thought of anything happening to Ginny, Ron or Hermione made a wave of grief rip through him… he couldn't… he wouldn't let it happen. The Death Eater was pushing his wand so hard into Ginny's exposed neck that she couldn't even fight to get away.

"The war is over," Harry was saying, trying to keep his voice fearless.

"Oh Potter, it hasn't even begun." Harry felt the other Death Eaters closing in on him, panic rose in his throat.

Ginny started fighting against the man who held her, but was unable to get away. Harry unconsciously ran towards them, he grabbed Ginny's arm and felt the Death Eater release her, focussing his attention to grabbing Harry instead. Harry pushed Ginny away as hard as he could, desperate to get her out of harms way. The other Death Eater's ran towards him, surrounding Harry and holding his limbs so that there was no way to fight back.

Suddenly, with a flick of one of the Death Eaters wands, Harry, Hermione, Ron and all Death Eaters were encapsulated by flamed. They licked at the sky and sent waves of heat thundering to Harry. They seemed to burn his skin and he yelled as the pain finally registered. Harry watched as one of the Death Eaters said a spell he did not recognise in a cruel whisper, and Ron's finger was ripped off. It fell to the ground at their feet, Harry watched in horror as his stump of a finger bled rapidly, the blood falling to the ground. Harry tried to move but he couldn't, instead he felt a violent wind ripping at the fire, making everything a dark crimson blur. He couldn't see anything else, everything seemed to be moving around him, all he could feel was a hot iron of pain, he yelled once more.

Harry awoke with a start, sweat was coating him, the memory of the day he was taken burned in his memory. Ginny was sitting on the bed, holding him still with her hands, his throat was parched and he knew that he had been screaming. The sun was only just rising outside the windows, casting a soft yellow across the room. Ginny removed her hands cautiously – Harry saw George also staring at him, his eyes full of concern.

"Are you okay?" Ginny asked, Harry nodded, swallowing – Hermione and Ron's faces burned in his memory, "what were you dreaming?"

"The day we were taken," he said solemnly. Ginny slowly nodded in understanding,

"I have that nightmare sometimes," she said, "right up to the point where my parents ran out as they heard you scream." Harry nodded, not really paying attention, all he felt was desperation and fear clawing at him – was it too late?

One of you asked me to update before Friday – for asking so nicely this is my gift to you haha. Good luck with your assignment week – I have to say that sounds just awful!

Although I'm now very behind in my writing, so you're going to have to wait longer for the next chapter, sorry!

I hope you liked this instalment and that it cleared some stuff up

Thankyou so much for all your support thus far, it's all you guys who keep me writing :)

Pheonixxsong