Chapter Three: The Kidnapping
For the most part, the summer holiday that year turned out to be one of the most rewarding times of Harry's young life. It wasn't, however, free from the touch of evil.
Before the holiday began, though, there was the matter of the services at school, which took place a week following on from what had officially come to be known as The Battle of Hogwarts.
The history teacher, Professor Binns, had been allocated the task of organizing the memorial gatherings for the fallen pupils. The order of the services was decided by the Heads of the Houses drawing lots. At each session, the dead of the House in question were, where possible, lined up in their coffins, in the Great Hall. All the pupils were obliged to attend every one of the services – Professor Flitwick wanted no one to opt out from paying their respects to any House they didn't like.
"In death, we are all united in defeat," the headmaster had sagely announced.
Hufflepuff had the first, dedicated session – followed immediately by Slytherin. The rebellious Slytherin students who had been captured were now locked up at the pleasure of the Ministry of Magic. Consequently, there was a reduced number of Slytherin pupils left at Hogwarts, compared to the other Houses. The Slytherins who were left were the surviving, non-insurgent crowds who'd managed to survive the battle. Harry watched, head slumped, as he stood with everyone else in the Great Hall, in their minute of silence. He felt sorry for Alex Greenway, who was silently weeping for his lost Yasmin. But he had no sympathy for the (few) dead Slytherins in their coffins who'd sided with the Death Eaters during the battle – and who had ended up being killed in the crossfire of the fighting.
As the ceremony continued, Harry thought about Blaise Zabini. The black Slytherin student had been retrieved from a demolished exterior wall of the school, amongst a group of three other pupils. Unlike the rest, he had been lucky to survive – but his injuries had caused him to slip into a coma. And consequently, he'd been transferred to the wizarding hospital – St. Mungo's – for special care. Like Millicent Bulstrode, no one left alive knew where Blaise's loyalties lay. The sullen young man had rarely spoken to any of the pupils outside of his house.
After a break, the services for the dead of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor came to pass. A now-recovered Ginny, who was standing next to Harry, took his hand as they stared at the various coffins of those they had known for so long. Cho Change, the Creevsley brothers, and others – all gone before their time.
After this day, the dead would be handed over to their parents – for the final, separate arrangements.
* * * * *
The exam schedule for June had been completely disrupted, of course – but the pupils would be marked and graded on their coursework alone, Professor Flitwick had decreed. And a week after the memorial services, a party was put on, unofficially, in Harry's honour – to celebrate the demise of Lord Voldemort. Harry got to dance with Ginny, once he'd got past the many young ladies who wanted a piece of him. And Harry wryly noticed that Ron had not only taken to the dance floor with Hermione, but that his dancing skills had improved. Not to mention the fact he was wearing a better suit than the one forced upon him by his mother, three-and-a-half years ago at the Ball.
* * * * *
Lucius Malfoy sniffed with disdain as he swept his eyes around the cellar. It had been dark - about sunset - when he descended the rough stone staircase that was the only entrance. But the two, black-cloaked Death Eaters who had led him down here from the buildings above, were now busy casting spells and lighting candles. With a reluctant bow, one of the mask-less Death Eaters gestured for him to sit at the wooden table in the middle of the chamber. There were about sixteen chairs set around it, and the tall, white-haired Lucius took his position halfway along one side of the table.
"Do you wish me to take your coat, or staff, sir?" the other man smiled stiffly.
"No, Selwyn. I'll keep them. Summer evening or not – there is still a chill in the air, here."
"I apologise, sir. Travers will conjure some fire spells for us." Selwyn looked across to his comrade. With a flicker of annoyance, the third Death Eater got to work, and opened a wooden box next to the entrance. From within it, he took out some miniature crystal balls, and then proceeded to place them around the circumference of the cellar. A swish of his wand later, Travers had conjured up magical fires within the crystal balls he'd just used to form the circuit.
Although he soon felt warmer, Lucius' haughty expression of displeasure didn't change, even when he was drinking a delightful red wine from the silver goblet that Selwyn had served him with.
His lips twitched briefly into a smile, as he looked up to see his son, Draco, enter and approach the seat besides him. Other Death Eaters: Yaxley, Walden Macnair, Avery, the Carrows, and more, were following in Draco's wake.
"Father." Draco nodded, before sitting down. He sneered at the crumbling state of the cellar. "This is what we've been reduced to, is it? Now that our rightful leader has been…slaughtered, we have to meet up in old muggle properties like this!?"
"This cellar was your aunt's idea, Draco," Lucius' voice conveyed a note of reproach. "Distasteful as the situation is, it makes sense for us to hide and meet in places that the wizarding community will never expect to find us! And I understand, this cellar, in this mid-England city – absurd as it may sound – used to hold gatherings of muggle parliament. Centuries ago – before the Houses of Parliament were built. If we are careful enough, history will be repeated in our favour."
Draco scowled. "I look forward to that day. I also look forward to us going back home – when we are no longer fugitives!"
"So do I, Draco," Lucius drawled. He glanced around at the gathered company of seated Death Eaters drinking wine and talking in low voices amongst themselves. "Your mother was coming with Bellatrix, I understand?"
"Yes…" Draco looked sharply across at the black-robed figures currently descending the stone steps. "Here they are now!"
The two latest arrivals pulled down their hoods, almost simultaneously. The one at the rear revealed her pale-blonde hair and proud, refined features. Then she headed over to take the empty seat that her husband had reserved for her. They briefly touched hands.
Meanwhile, the black permed tresses of Bellatrix Lestrange bounced lightly over her dark gown-like dress and cloak as she walked proudly and purposefully over to the far end of the table. The seat there was of better quality – higher backed, and with red-leather padding. Bellatrix handled herself like a high-born lady as she took her seat.
Meanwhile, Selwyn and Travers finished their duties as attendants, and took up guard next to the bottom of the staircase. Casting spells to prevent the impending conversation from escaping the cellar – as well as other forms of protection – they then nodded to Bellatrix.
The chamber was now silent. All of those seated were facing Lestrange. She took a sip of the wine from the goblet she had just received.
"The meeting will now begin," she declared in her slightly-loud, piercing voice, as her dark eyes met the others in turn. "I see that most of us are gathered. The others, such as Greyback, have been told to maintain their posts for tonight. In case any of you are wondering, the muggles who own this place, believe us to be ghost-hunters, engaged in a séance. So we shouldn't be disturbed."
"So I have heard correctly!" a man with a long, pale, and somewhat twisted face, announced. "You are now putting yourself forward as our 'Dark Lady'. Has there been a consensus on this motion?"
"Watch your tongue, Dolohov! Before I cut it out, myself!" Bellatrix shot him a look of fury. "I am – was – our Lord's favourite. And he placed more of his trust in me to carry out our battles, then he did in anyone else!"
"But did our master appoint anyone to carry on the war in the event of his death?" Alecto Carrow lowered her goblet and glared at Lestrange with no small measure of distrust.
"No – because he never expected to die," the ex-ministry official named Yaxley turned to her and replied curtly.
"Then Lestrange has no automatic right to lead us!" Alecto's husband, Amycus, roared.
Half of the gathering suddenly erupted into a furious argument – with several of the Death Eaters trying to make their voices heard above the others. Out of the corner of his eye, a silent Lucius Malfoy saw the furious Bellatrix walk around the cellar, to seize a bottle of wine identical to the ones already poured. Using her wand, she then levitated it into the air, above the centre of the wooden table.
With her next spell, the Goth-like witch shattered the glass.
Red wine was splattered across the faces and clothes of the seated company, who immediately fell silent.
A waste of a perfectly good Saint-Amour, thought Lucius, as he scowled and pulled out a clean handkerchief from his pocket, to wipe his face.
"Shut…UP!" Bellatrix shrieked. She returned to her end of the table, but remained standing. "The Dark Lord would have no patience for this squabbling – and neither will I! I am the strongest of us here – and you know it! If anyone is brave, or stupid, enough to contest leadership with me – then they can stand up now and make themselves know. Then we can invoke a duel to the death at a suitable place. Tonight!"
Lucius took a deep breath to steady his nerves. The temptation to become leader was there, yes. But he knew the blaze in Bellatrix's eyes. He knew how dangerous and deranged his sister-in-law could be.
He was one of the Dark Lord's favourite servants – or he had been until his capture at the Ministry of Magic, two years ago. Despite being sprung by a combined force of Death Eaters and Dementors, Lucius had suffered his master's ire on occasion. He had wanted to prove himself worthy again – by killing one of the Order of the Phoenix, for example. But it had not come to pass.
And now the inconceivable had happened. Lord Voldemort had died. And Lucius wanted – they all wanted – revenge on Harry Potter and his friends and allies. But he couldn't do that if Bellatrix Lestrange killed him. She was quite capable of it. She wouldn't hesitate to duel anyone to the end, if they challenged her…
Lucius Malfoy had managed to be several things in his life – a school prefect, a governor of Hogwarts, an official at the Ministry of Magic, and a proud husband and father. He had also been a schemer, a liar, and a resolute supporter of his Lord – despite the setbacks he had endured, such as that failed attempt to restore him by the use of his Horcrux-diary.
Lucius did not intend to go down in history as a fool.
The other Death Eaters shifted uncomfortably at Bellatrix's outburst, and they cast fugitive glances at each other, as if daring someone to step up to Voldemort's self-appointed successor. But nobody did.
Yaxley made his opinion know. "No one here will oppose you, Madame Lestrange. You are hereby authorized to lead us!"
There was a murmur of assent around the table.
"So mote it be." Bellatrix smiled with satisfaction. "And, for the record, I will announce my successor right now. My favourite nephew – Draco Malfoy – will from this moment on, become my Regent! To become your future Dark Lord when I so deem."
Half-slouched over the table, Draco shot upright in his chair – his face etched with surprise and delight. A gasp escaped Narcissa Malfoy's lips, then she stood up to hug her son. Lucius smiled and laid a firm hand on Draco's shoulder.
"Congratulations, my son."
Draco grinned back, and regarded the rest of the gathering with a triumphant leer. A few shocked expressions were quickly replaced by strained smiles – followed by a round of applause, some of which was weak, and soon faltered.
"Thank you, Aunt Bellatrix." He nodded at her. "I will not disappoint you in my preparations for this honour."
"Abide by that pledge, Draco. And honour my leadership," she cautioned him. "Do so, and all will be well."
"All very good – but why did the inconceivable happen at all?" Augustus Rookwood piped up. "How did our Lord perish?"
"Not all the details are known to me," Bellatrix declared, as she sat back down at the head of the table. "However, thanks to that Umbridge woman at the Ministry – who remains a secret supporter of our planned regime change – it has been ascertained that He, plus Nagini and that dolt, Wormtail, all came to grief in the operation at Hogwarts. Harry Potter killed our Lord."
An angry roar erupted from the table, as some of the Death Eaters began to blame others of not doing enough in the battle to ensure their victory.
"Silence!" Bellatrix slammed her hand on the table – and instantly the arguments ceased.
"There will be NO bickering between us. I have suffered as much as you all! More so – as not only did I love our Lord more than anyone else, my own husband and brother were captured and incarcerated. Now, we need to be united, in order to enact our revenge upon our enemies. We can still seize control of this nation – first by conquering our opponents in the wizarding community; then we will deal with the witless muggle population!"
The cellar was as quiet as a graveyard for a moment. Then Yaxley cleared his thought. "You have a plan in mind, my Lady?"
Bellatrix gave a satisfied, calculating smile. "Yes, Yaxley. And the initial stages are already underway. Are they not, dear Lucius?" She turned to face the Malfoy family.
Conscious of everyone eyes now falling upon him, Mr Malfoy rose to his feet, one hand on his serpent-headed cane. Now and then, he habitually tapped the silver snake's open mouth against the palm of his other hand.
"That is correct, my Lady," he began. "For the past two weeks, my brethren, I and a small team have been working upon some rare alchemic substances. At the earliest stage, we had opened to develop these further with the aid of Severus Snape…"
He paused, seeing Bellatrix's face contort at the memory of the events surrounding Snape's death. Thankfully, most of the Death Eaters remained ignorant of the details, Lucius reminded himself.
"However, despite that option being closed to us, I am pleased to say that progress has been made!" Lucius' nostrils flared with satisfaction. "The injections have worked upon rats and toads – and even upon a monkey we managed to acquire. Now, we need to test the injections upon human subjects."
"What form of experiments?" Yaxley asked, raising his blunt features to appraise Lucius.
"Patience, Yaxley. I cannot reveal too much, just yet. I will say that if all goes well, the wizarding community will once again be rocked by deaths, and…more," Lucius' eyes glinted with anticipation. "The plan will enable us to regain power, whilst our reservoir of allies are put into place – ready for combat."
"And do you have human subjects ready for these…experiments, father?" Draco asked him.
Lucius' lips stretched into a tight smile. "Not yet, dear Draco. But I have decided who they will be. I'm sure you will approve of my choices…"
* * * * *
At the end of July, Harry reached his eighteen birthday. Having had the legality of his coming-of-wizard-age, seventeenth birthday, totally ignored by the Dursleys – Harry celebrated his latest birthday return by using his muggle-recognised right to officially leave his aunt's family for good.
Harry received quite a few gifts from those he considered to be his friends. He also received, to his surprise, money in the form of donations from Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw houses, organized by members of Dumbledore's Army.
One of the best surprises, however, was being given a new Firebolt broomstick from Hagrid, who presented it on behalf of the Hogwarts staff to Harry.
That day, another evening party was held for Harry. This time it was at The Burrow, the home of the Weasleys. All of his adoptive family was there. Even Percy – who'd thought that Harry had been crying wolf when he announced, three years ago, that Voldemort was on the rise once more.
After having broken away from his family, Percy was now reconciled with them. He had also apologized to Harry for his callous conduct to him – and the two were back on amicable terms. His birthday present to Harry had been to promise greater co-operation from the Ministry of Magic, where Percy worked in a position close to the Minister.
"You-Know-Who is no more, but some of his followers are still at liberty," Percy admitted to Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the entirety of the gathered Weasley family. "The Ministry will work fully with Hogwarts on the situation. And we will help fund your Auror training – all three of you!" He then turned to Ginny, and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "All, of course, I'll stand by my sister – werewolf or not. I still love you, Ginny."
She smiled sheepishly. "Thanks, Percy."
Later on, Harry went outside into the large garden for some fresh air. Leaving the racket of Fred and George's dancing in the house behind him, he found Ginny by herself, staring up at the crescent moon.
Not wanting to startle her, he stood still and took in her ginger locks and young, attractive features, as well as her smart red dress. She was a year younger than him – the baby of the Weasley family. And now, he was becoming fixated by her. Framed by the moonlight, she looked almost ethereal. It was a reminder, Harry told himself, that a part of Ginny now belonged to the night.
"It's all right, Harry," she called out softly. "You can join me."
He walked up to her, making eye-contact. "You didn't even turn round," he pointed out. "Is that down to your werewolf senses?"
Ginny nodded. "I've only transformed three times so far. Into my halfway form – with Remus Lupin with me on each occasion. But I'm making progress – or so the Professor told me. Even in my human shell, my senses began to become more acute, not long before…, before my first change. But yes. I could smell you, Harry. And right now, I can tell your heart's beating faster than normal."
"Now that's just female intuition!" Harry smirked, and Ginny smiled. "How are you…bearing up with all this?" he asked her.
"Well… Fred and George seem even louder to me than they did before. Werewolf senses aren't always advantageous." She laughed. "As you know, brother Bill was affected, if only slightly, by Greyback's human bite, last year. So he's had a talk with me about his enhanced senses.
"I've been getting used to hunting rabbits in the forest outside Hogwarts – those that Hagrid's been breeding for the Professor and me… I… I used to like rabbits. Now I like them in a different way. I just have to accept it. I can't afford to go mad… Better rabbits than chewing on people."
Harry nodded, knowing that Ginny had stayed over at school after term had finished, because of her…condition. She'd only travelled back home a fortnight ago. He glanced at the moon again. "It'll be full again, soon. What happens then?" he asked.
"Professor Lupin's travelling over to see me. Me, he, and Tonks will spend time in some woods, in Surrey. No settlements for miles around, I've been told."
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Is Tonks a werewolf, too, then?"
Ginny laughed. "No! She's our…human caretaker. As we already know, they're still an item. His wolf accepts her. And so does mine." She then looked around and whispered confidentially. "Tonks actually wanted to become a werewolf, and she asked Lupin to bite her! This was a few months back. But it didn't work. Apparently, she's immune to the condition. That's what she told me."
"Oh!" Harry actually felt glad that Ginny was confiding in him. Then he frowned, as he thought over something she'd said earlier. "You say you've…changed…three times. There's been two full moons since…since you received the bite."
Ginny nodded. "Two forced changes, thanks to the full moon. And I've once managed to change of my own accord, at night, since the last full moon – just before I left the school, to come home. I'm…adapting to it all, Harry. Mum and Dad were upset, as you can imagine – but no one's rejecting me. Quite the opposite, in fact." She stepped closer to Harry. "How do you feel…about us? Now that…there's a creature inside of me?"
"Ginny… You're still you, as far as I'm concerned. If you want us to have a deeper relationship, now that Voldemort's dead… I'll give it all I can." Harry smiled and held her hand.
"So will I." With a look of relieved joy, Ginny wrapped her arms around Harry's shoulders, and met him in a slow, smooching kiss.
Harry automatically held Ginny to him, and lost himself in her, savouring the moment. Not wanting it to end.
Then Ginny broke off lip-contact. But she didn't let go. Instead, she rubbed her nose along his jaw, then went on tiptoe to gently nip his earlobe with her teeth.
"Hey!" Harry protested – mildly.
Ginny giggled. "Sorry, Harry. Wolf instincts! Would you rather I didn't…?"
He thought about it, then relaxed and smiled. "I'll let you continue, then. Just…leave my ear intact."
"I will." She nuzzled him again, as the moon shone down on the two happy teenagers with its soft light.
* * * * *
The next few days of the summer were good to Harry. Now that he was a permanent lodger at the Weasley's household (until he decided whether or not to keep 12 Grimmauld Place), he felt truly free to do whatever he'd liked – for the first time ever in his life. True, he would be returning to Hogwarts, along with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. But that would be on the first of September. For the four weeks following his birthday he had time to spare – and celebrate his parting from the Dursleys.
Also, Harry had inherited a sum of money on his 18th birthday, thanks to the wills of his parents and Sirius Black. Harry took some of it out, and with it had gone on a week's holiday around the West Country with Ron, the girls, and Mr and Mrs Weasley – investigating places like Glastonbury Tor and Tintagel Castle, as well as spending time on the beaches. That had been wonderful.
Even better were the time when the four of them – Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione (the latter pair were now practically dating as much as Harry and Ginny), were doing their own things. Swimming, bowling, going to the cinema and kissing in the back rows. All that teenage (and non-magical) stuff that all four of them had rarely indulged in before, whilst Voldemort's shadow had hung over their lives.
Towards the end of the summer break, however, the clouds began to gather again. Harry had been spending the evenings at 12 Grimmauld Place, having a one-to-one consultation session with Professor Moody on his forthcoming Auror training. They had also just discussed the latest news on the Ministry's attempts to locate the missing Draco Malfoy and his parents, for their support of Voldemort's cause.
"Still no luck on any of them," Moody spat. His false eyes rolled in its leather support, as he gripped the arms of his chair in his frustration. "Wherever they've gone to ground, they've hid themselves well. No traces, no clues. The same with Bellatrix Lestrange."
Harry took another large sip of his lemonade, to wash down the bitter taste rising into his mouth. As much as he wanted Draco Malfoy to face justice for his past actions, Bellatrix was another who had much to answer for. Not only had she been responsible for leaving Neville Longbottom's parents effectively brain-dead, she'd also slain Harry's godfather, Sirius Black.
Suddenly, there was a 'whoosh' from the log fire burning in the paper-cluttered study they were sat in. The flames changed to a scarlet colour.
Moody gave a start, and shot up out of his seat, before limping over to the fireplace with the aid of his false leg. "Merlin's beard! It's a Code Red, Potter!"
The vision of a face appeared in the flames. Harry quickly joined Mad Eye. A Code Red naturally meant something bad. His heart lurched as he saw whose face was now speaking to them both.
"Sorry to butt in, Alistor. But it's important!" Mr Weasley announced, somewhat breathlessly. "Ron and Ginny were kidnapped! We've got them back – and Remus and Tonks are with us now, but…"
"Ron? Ginny?" Harry spoke up. "Are they all right, Mr Weasley!?"
He redirected his somber face towards the young man. "Ginny's distraught. She's… Well, get over to us now – and you'll hear about it. But… I'm sorry, Harry. Ron's been injected with some type of poison. He's fighting for his life!"
* * * * *
One carefully-devised teleportation spell later, Harry and Professor Moody had joined Arthur Weasley. To their surprise, they were not at The Burrow, but in another house, which bore no floor carpets, and had only a minimum of furniture in the lounge. The place was heated by the fire in the heath Mr Weasley had used for his communication – but the drab-looking, undecorated walls, and the stillness of what was evidently a private house set apart from other residences, gave Harry the impression that this was a building that provided a function. It was not a home.
"Good – you're here!" A pale-looking Mr Weasley removed his spectacles, and rubbed his red-rimmed eyes. He patted Moody's shoulder. "My son's upstairs. Quickly! Help Remus to work out what's happening to Ron… No, Harry – wait!"
But Harry was already on the move. Through the open doorway, he'd seen the silver, serpent-headed stick lying on the hallway floor. He ran over and picked it up. It bore marks along it. Claw marks.
Harry recognized the cane, and his muscles tightened with anger. He threw the stick aside, in disgust. Ignoring Mr Weasley's protests, Harry bounded upstairs – and stopped only when he saw the trickle of drying blood oozing down the uncarpeted top steps. Cautiously, he edged himself on – and saw the sprawled figure lying on the landing, at the top of the staircase.
Lucius Malfoy stared at the ceiling above him, with shocked, wide eyes. Yet he saw nothing. His throat and upper chest were a torn, ragged mass of flesh and exposed muscles and bones. The landing around the body was splattered with the blood and tissues which had come from the Death Eater.
Harry sucked in his breath, stunned. Behind him, Professor Moody took the stairs slowly with his impaired walk, and gave a low whistle as he saw the tragic scene before him.
"So I've managed to live to see the day this weasel got his due!" he rumbled. "Mind where you step, Harry!"
Harry forced back the bile rising in his throat, and – stepping around the deceased Mr Malfoy – rushed into the bedroom, where he could hear Professor Lupin. Mad Eye followed close behind.
Lupin and Tonks glanced up at Harry, then returned their attention to Ron, who was lying in a bed, sweating profusely. He was jerking repeatedly in small, stiff motions as Tonks held him down.
"Ron!" Harry cried out. But his friend's gaze was rigid, and fixed upon a point straight before him – not really seeing anything…
Like Lucius Malfoy. But his was an expression of shock, as he was killed, Harry reasoned to himself. This… This is something different…
"He can't hear you, Harry," Remus Lupin declared. "There's nothing you can do here – let me and Alistor me. Ginny's in the next bedroom, with Hermione. Be there for them!"
Harry nodded numbly. As he left the room, his mind haunted by the image of Ron's condition, he heard Lupin whisper to Moody.
"Mad-Eye, conjure up a microscope for us with your magic! There's some blood samples on the dressing table over there, to check out…"
His mind swimming with questions, Harry entered the adjacent bedroom. The girls were hugging each other – both sat on a bed that had its upper blankets ripped and flung to the floor. The remains of broken leather strains hung from the sides of the bed. Hermione and Ginny looked over to him, with tear-stained faces.
Also on the floor were the torn remains of some clothes that Harry recognised as being Ginny's – the ones he'd saw her wearing earlier that day, before he went to Grimmauld Place, ready for his appointment with Professor Moody. She was dressed differently now.
The penny dropped in his head.
"Oh, Ginny," he sighed.
He stepped forward to embrace her, as she shot up and flung herself at him, sobbing. There was still a trace of dried blood around her temple – and he could also smell it on her breath, and see it lining her teeth…
"I couldn't help it, Harry!" she cried. "I killed Mr Malfoy…!"
* * * * *
Some minutes later, the girls had recovered enough to tell Harry what had happened.
Ginny and Ron had been returning from a walk around a nearby chase, when they were ambushed, and captured, by three Death Eaters. After being bundled into the back of a large van, the two Weasleys were brought into the house, syringe-injected with some black fluid, and then strapped into the two beds in the house: Ron in the other bedroom, and Ginny in the bed where Harry and the girls were sat around now. Trapped beneath the covers, Ginny had seen the lead Death Eater take off his cloth hood – to reveal his identity as Lucius Malfoy.
"Although I was feeling groggy and delirious from whatever was injected into my blood, I could tell from Malfoy's face that I wasn't reacting the way he was expecting." Ginny spoke slowly, weighing up her words as she gave her account, though she was still shaking somewhat as Harry listened. Hermione squeezed the other girl's arm, giving her some comfort.
"However," Ginny gulped, continuing. "I could hear Ron crying out in agony. Mr Malfoy told one of his men to go, and tell the others that the solution was only working on one of the two 'test cases'. After his man left, I began to be sick on the blanket. I realized…that Ron and I had been injected with some type of poison…and that Ron was suffering.
"Something in me then exploded, Harry," Ginny admitted. Her eyes looked away from him for a moment. "I was a prisoner of a man who'd put that infernal diary amongst my school belongings…as you know. A book that took control of me – made me an unthinking puppet! And now, the same man was expecting me – and Ron – to die, as part of an experiment!"
Harry nodded. "You changed into your wolf. Hence the ruined clothes on the floor."
"Into my half-wolf persona, anyway…" Ginny's eyes were moist again. "I broke free from my restrains – then leapt for Mr Malfoy, on the landing. He tried to fire off a spell at me with his staff, but I swiped it aside – and it fell down the stairs. Then I made him pay…"
"Whilst this was happening…," Hermione took up the story. "…Mr Weasley, Professor Lupin, Tonks, and I, broke into the house and rendered the remaining Death Eater unconscious." She twitched nervously – still upset over Ron, Harry realized. "We…, we managed to track down the kidnappers with some recently-improved magic the Order of the Phoenix has devised."
Harry managed to smile. "That's good work." He shifted his attention to Ginny. "And you were still…half-wolf…when the cavalry appeared? You didn't attack them?"
"Yes, and no – in that order." Ginny's lips twitched upwards with self-pride. "My…other half…was suspicious of the newcomers, but she – I – realized they were friends and family. I managed to change back into my human skin, and Hermione was good enough to nip home and back with more of my clothes."
"We're only about a mile or so from The Burrow," Hermione explained. "The Death Eaters must have been keeping tabs on us. Maybe for just days – perhaps longer."
There was a sudden knock at the door. Harry quickly opened it, to admit Professors Lupin and Moody. Both looked grim-faced.
Ginny's hands shot to her mouth. "No! Ron's not dead! I… I can hear him gasping…"
"Our magic spells are keeping him alive for now – but we're fire-fighting, Ginny." Moody curled his lips. "The poison is in his blood. It's attempting to shut down his organs."
"But I was injected with the same chemical, I'm certain!" Ginny wailed. "Why am I not affected by it?"
"Precisely." Lupin shifted uncomfortably. He nervously rubbed his moustache.
"The blood samples you have…?" Harry put to them.
"They're from Ron and Ginny – taken by the Death Eaters," Lupin announced. "Ron's cells show that they've been killed off by something potent. Something I've never seen the likes of before. Ginny's… Well, I took a blood sample from myself and exposed a discovered sample of this black liquid to my own blood cells, and left them in a dish. The result is the same as in Ginny's case."
Hermione slowly raised her head, in interest. "The virulent cells were killed off, instead of the blood cells – weren't they?" she ventured.
"Exactly," Moody announced gruffly.
"Then werewolves are immune to this…disease…," Harry concluded. He spun round to face Ginny. "That means you can save Ron!"
Ginny's face turned pales, as she took in the implications. She stared at the Professors. "Is there no other way?" she whispered.
"No. Ron will die, unless… Unless I – or you – bite him, and pass on our immunity to him. If he lives, Ron will become like us, Ginny." Lupin carefully measured his next words. "I've just informed your father. He wants me to deliver the bite… But I wanted you all to understand…before the deed is done." He sighed. "Leave this room, everyone. I'll change here, once the curtains are drawn to. Then I'll…"
"I'll do it!" Ginny declared in a tiny, but determined tone-of-voice, as she stood up straight. "I'll help you. I'm his sister, after all! I can control my wolf, now."
Lupin nodded, and glanced at Harry, Hermione, and Moody. Taking their cue, they left – as Lupin pulled the curtains to, and quickly began to undress along with Ginny. Mad Eye closed the door behind him.
It didn't take long for them to hear the sounds of stretching and twisting bones, coming from the room.
* * * * *
A minute or so later, Harry helped Tonks and Mr Weasley to hold Ron in place, in his bed. He was still experiencing spasms – only more frequently now. To one side of the bed, a tearful Hermione was holding Ron's pale, cold hand. And Moody was using a spell to help maintain Ron's body temperature.
Moody stepped back, as the two werewolves entered the lit bedroom. The first was a brown-furred wolf man, who looked healthier and more self-controlled than when Harry had seen him in this form. Behind the wolf man, was a smaller, russet-coloured wolf girl. Harry felt transfixed by the sight of her – knowing that this creature was still his Ginny.
The werewolves growled lowly, and slowly walked upright on two lupine-like legs. Harry and the others kept still and held their nerve, as the humanoid werewolves moved in. The wolf man that was Professor Lupin loped around the bed, and took his place besides Harry, as he lowered himself and placed his jaws ready to deliver a deep bite below the left side of Ron's ribcage.
As near to the heart as possible, Harry realised. To clear out the poison in Ron's bloodstream.
In the meantime, Ginny had stopped besides Ron's right side.
Both Lupin and Ginny paused and glanced at Arthur Weasley, who was taking in the hybrid form of his daughter.
"Do it," he told them, eyes moistening. "Don't let Molly and me be standing over a coffin. Not yet."
Professor Lupin nodded, and carefully sank his fangs into Ron's torso. An instant later, Ginny bit into her brother's right arm – where he'd been injected.
Ron gave a cry of pain.
At least he's still aware, Harry thought numbly.
The werewolves licked at the wounds they had made, until the marks gradually healed. Minutes later, they left the room together, in order to change back. The others stayed in the bedroom.
Tonks took Ron's temperature with a thermometer, and called out. "He's stabilizing!" A minute later she declared. "Temperature's rising – not falling! He's developing a fever! The werewolf syndrome is fighting the poison in him!"
"Get some cold water to tab him with, then, Tonks." Moody glanced at Harry, Hermione, and Mr Weasley. "Now, we'll wait to see which affliction wins the day!"
As one, Harry and Hermione collectively squeezed Ron's hands.
"Hang in there, mate!" Harry breathed, silently praying that this was not the end for his best friend.
Hermione echoed his words. "Come on, Ron! Don't leave us now!!"
11