HARRY POTTER AND THE UNFORGIVEN
A Sixth Year Harry Potter Fanfiction
BY
Jayiin Mistaya
"Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus."
...never tickle a sleeping dragon
COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to Harry Potter. Those rights are held, exclusively, by JK Rowling, and any other entities, corporations, subsidiaries, or groups not named here possessing legal rights to the aforementioned books and/or trademark.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I apologize profusely for how long this has taken me to post. Between my AC going out (I live in Texas; we won't need the heater for another month) and my internet going out, it's taken me a bit longer to get this edited than I thought.
This is the second part of the climax of the first arc of the story; in just a few chapters, the second arc will begin. Thanks for your patience with me, especially considering how slow the story moves.
There's a bit of cliffhanger on this one, too, but not nearly as bad as the last one. And, a tiny bit of H/G!
As always, thanks to everyone who has been reading, even if you haven't reviewed, and especially to those people who have me on author alert or favorites.
More information on Harry Potter and the Unforgiven can be found at my website, which is linked in my Author Profile. This includes update dates, hints about upcoming chapters, and even a few spoilers.
Feedback of any kind is always appreciated. Remember, the more reviews I get, the faster I post.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:Thanks to Elusive Evan for making me continue to post this and to ElvenLaughter for support and reviewing every single chapter to date.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Suffocating Silence
Ginny awoke to silence.
She lay and listened to the quiet that had settled over the Burrow. The silence seemed to be a sound in and of itself, as if the absence of sound would deafen her by smothering her in a heavy blanket.
Her door creaked open, almost painfully loud in the silence. She was suddenly aware of Hermione's soft breathing, of Ron's footsteps as he tried to sneak into her room. She smiled a bit to herself.
He always came to check on her when he woke up before she did. It had become a habit the summer after her first year, when her nightmares had been so bad she wouldn't be able to wake on her own. She peeked out from under her eyelids, watching him look at Hermione curled around a pillow (Ginny hadn't had the heart to tell Hermione it was one she had stolen from Ron weeks ago) and his blue eyes sparkled for a brief moment.
She giggled at the dreamy expression on her brother's face.
He shrugged. "She drives me crazy, you know."
"I know." She sat up, swinging her legs out of bed. "I'm going down for some tea. You want to stay with her?"
Ron turned a brilliant shade of red and mumbled something. Ginny kissed her brother on the cheek and dashed out of the room so her laughter wouldn't wake Hermione.
But her laughter died as she stepped back out into the quiet.
It's no wonder Ron woke up...the quiet doesn't feel right.
She walked into the kitchen, knowing her mother would scold her for not bothering with a dressing gown. She almost hoped to hear her mother's raised voice. "Ginevra Weasley, you go right back upstairs and get decent this instant!"
She would snort, and cross her arms and tap her foot. "I am decent, mum. See – t-shirt and shorts are decent. Not like what Hermione wears to bed!"
Her mother, at least, would giggle at that – Hermione's satin nightgowns were a source of great amusement (and envy) for Ginny and no small embarrassment for Hermione.
Oh, she's going to kill me later today.
Right then, she understood Rita Skeeter's choice of Animagus forms. She would have paid good money to be a fly – or beetle - on the wall when Hermione woke to find Ron watching her sleep.
Her mother wasn't up yet, but there was an abandoned teapot on the stove – which was still on. Meaning one of her brothers was already up. She grabbed a mug and poured the last of the tea into it and turned off the stove.
Pilfered tea in hand, she walked out back, hoping the quiet wouldn't be as deafening outside. Even Tonks – normally as boisterous and mischievous as the twins – was sleeping peacefully on the couch.
Bill was standing by the patio table in the middle of the backyard, staring up at the sun, a half-smile on his face.
"Morning, imp."
She rolled her eyes at him as she walked out to join him, the grass tickling her bare legs and feet. "You left the stove on, lout."
"'Course I did. Knew you'd turn it off when you got up."
She sniffed at him, cradling the warm mug between her hands. She and Mum both had cold hands – and Ginny was infamous for torturing her poor brothers with icy fingers.
She shivered, thinking idly that the weather forecast was off; the morning was supposed to have been unseasonably warm, but it was rather chilly.
Hermione's right. Divination is a load of rubbish, even when it comes to figuring out the weather.
She didn't let herself think about the Prophecy.
"You okay?" Bill put a hand on her shoulder.
Ginny looked up at the man who was undeniably her favorite brother, and sighed.
"Stop being a mind-reader. I'd like to mope in peace for once."
He grinned at her. "Where's the fun in that?"
She took a sip of her tea and grimaced at the bitter taste. "Ugh. You used the cheap stuff again, didn't you?"
"Sorry, imp. It's what I'm used to. There's not much call for weak or fancy tea out in the middle of a desert. Or jungle. Or wherever Gringotts sends me."
Ginny glared at him. "Doesn't mean you should torment the rest of us." She saw the wistful look on his face, and her expression softened. "You miss it, don't you?"
He chuckled. "Yeah. But in some ways, this is infinitely better, because for once I'm fighting for a reason other than money. It's got a nice, conscience-clearing feel to it." He poked her. "Besides, I get to keep an eye on you, make sure you behave."
She kicked at him half-heartedly. "Just try it, you great oaf."
"Feisty for this time of morning, aren't we?"
Ginny rolled her eyes. "It's not that early. Besides, what are you doing up? You don't work today."
Bill shrugged and took a deep swallow of tea. "Setting wards. The Order wanted me to put to use what I've learned breaking them."
"I'm glad. Maybe I'm biased, but I trust your skill more than anyone except maybe Dumbledore."
Her brother raised an eyebrow at the venom in her voice when she said the Headmaster's name. "Still mad at him?"
"Yes!" Ginny hissed. "I am."
Bill nodded. "Because you're worried about Harry?"
Ginny stared down at her toes and nodded. "More than I want to admit."
"Never went away, did it?"
Ginny frowned into her mug. "What? My crush? No. It just got worse. And dating other guys didn't help...it was bad, Bill, really bad. I kept comparing them to him."
He shook his head. "Damn me, imp, if you aren't in up to those ears of yours. And heaven help the boy once he finally opens his eyes."
Ginny grumbled under her breath. "Just what is wrong with my ears?"
Of all her brothers, Bill had always simply accepted her feelings for Harry, never teasing or prodding her. He also held steadfast to the belief that Harry was young – and his life such a mess – that he wasn't thinking about romance or relationships, not really anyway, and that as soon as he was, he would wake up and come around.
At least someone believes I have a chance.
Bill was right. She did miss him. Every day. All the time. Ever since she was ten.
She took another sip of the tea, despite the taste; it, at least, was warm.
This is just Mum getting revenge for me not wearing a dressing gown. Just wait. It'll be her fault it's cold today.
The air seemed heavy and it was getting colder. She looked over at their grandfather's shed, watching as frost grew on the windows.
Bill stepped away from her, setting his mug on the table. He drew his wand.
"Inside, Ginny. Now."
She looked up, opening her mouth to protest, but the entire world seemed to lurch.
The air in front of her shimmered, coalescing into a curtain of writhing silver; from it burst a streak of liquid light. A massive stag, head held high, horns shedding streaks of fluorescence, raced into being in an incandescent explosion.
It seemed to be too cold and too hot at once. The air crackled and the Burrow shook with a silent thunderclap as the stag glided to a stop inches from her nose.
Stumbling backwards, she cried out incoherently. Snorting, it pawed the ground.
Sparks fluttered across her vision; she tried to blink them away.
"Father...don't leave me..."
The raspy voice gurgled with the effort of speech. Breath hissed around coagulated blood...but it was as familiar to her as breathing.
The majestic stag faded away, leaving the broken and bloody body of Harry Potter curled at her bare feet.
Bill stared in shock as Ginny stumbled back, her mug falling from her numb fingers, tumbling to the ground and shattering. She fell to her knees by his head, reaching out for him. He convulsed, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. She heard herself whispering as her fingers touched his face, but couldn't remember what she said.
He was shaking, trying to curl around himself. "...please...don't leave me..."
His head brushed her bare leg, and he sucked in air at the contact. His hand reached for her as he tried to cling to her but his fingers wouldn't work. She tried to pull him closer; he flinched and jerked away from her hands, but he still clutched at her shirt.
Bill looked down at his sister and then at Harry. Something hardened I his eyes as he seemed to make a decision. "Got your wand, imp?"
He spoke casually, but his voice was different...distant, somehow, as if he were focused on something only he could see.
The wards. He can feel the wards. Whatever did this to Harry is coming after him.
Ginny shook her head, too scared to be mad at herself. "Upstairs in my room."
Bill nodded again, looking resigned. "Stay with him. No matter what, don't try to help me."
Ginny looked at her brother, icy tendrils of fear crawling through her.
She nodded.
Bill closed his eyes and his wand snapped up and he drew three quick circles of light the air.
He chanted liquid syllables that seemed to hang in the air like sharp-edged fragments of power, leaving her hair standing on end.
As he spoke, the circles flew through the air, wrapping around the Burrow.
The silence grew so heavy Ginny wondered why she wasn't suffocating.
Bill's eyes resumed the faraway look and he muttered under his breath. "Stay in silence and ease thy burdens; thine blood be safe; see and hear not what will trouble thy souls."
Ginny looked at her older brother as if seeing a stranger. The early morning sun shone down on him, and he smiled up at it, almost as if he were greeting it. He was dressed in trainers, worn jeans and a white t-shirt; his long hair was in a sloppy pony tail, but he reminded her of Dumbledore; something in his stance or in the aura around him.
He didn't look at her when he spoke.
"They're safe now, little sister, but only if we don't cross the threshold."
She nodded. Bill left it unspoken, but they were not safe. She didn't know how he knew, but she trusted her brother. Of all her family, he had never lied to her, or sugar-coated anything.
As if suddenly afraid, Harry pulled himself closer to Ginny, using his elbows to drag himself along the ground. His eyes were unfocused; his glasses were nowhere in sight. The air seemed to shimmer around him, flashes of green light dancing like miniature lightning in a corona around him.
He rested his head in her lap, releasing a long, shaky breath. Ginny couldn't look away; her hands moved of their own accord, brushing his hair away from his forehead.
Harry's scar was inflamed, red, and oozing blood.
Harry shifted against her, his skin cold and clammy on her leg. He was trying to speak again, but the words sounded thick in his mouth.
"...sorry...couldn't fight...just wanted to come...home."
Strangely calm, Ginny stroked his hair, leaning over him as if to shelter him. She felt a wrenching guilt at the small part of her that screamed in joy that coming here, to the Burrow, was coming home to him.
"You're home...you're home...you don't have to fight..."
She felt him sapping warmth from her, and this time when she tried to pull him closer, he let her. He curled against her, blood smearing on her leg.
"Ginny...?" When he rasped her name, she hushed him with a finger on his bloodstained lips.
"I'm here. Don't speak...just rest. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."
Harry's other hand reached up, but his arm didn't want to support the hand; Ginny caught it in hers and held it. His other hand had his wand in a death grip, the muscles having tightened to the point she wasn't sure he could have let go, even if he wanted to.
"...hurts..." He twisted his body, and cried out. His eyes met hers, and for a brief second of lucidity, he seemed to see her. "Please...don't let go?"
It tore at her when she heard him whisper those words as a question, not a plea...almost as if he feared that because he asked she would let go.
"I'm not letting you go, Harry Potter."
He coughed, turning his head; blood splattered on the ground. With a groan, he lay there, panting.
He sagged against her, the last of his strength expended.
Pressure seemed to build around them like the threat of thunder. The air was tinged with the scents of ozone and blood.
Ginny could see faint flashes of light just outside of her vision as the ward struggled against whatever was coming. She knew enough about wards to know they were weaker than they should have been. Whatever had brought Harry to them had weakened the wards, leaving the Burrow vulnerable.
Ginny looked back at her brother.
His face was calm, but beads of sweat stood out on his forehead as he silently struggled to hold the wards.
"They're coming though," he whispered. The magic made manifest hit the air like a hammer blow, and the wards fell. Harry cried out in pain.
CRACK!
It sounded like a thunderclap. Nine Death Eaters Apparated in at once. Their wands were held warily out, as if they were waiting for something that never came.
The cold grew worse, and she felt even the flicker of hope drain out of her as black shadows hovered in the air behind the Death Eaters, growing closer with every second.
Dementors...
Bill walked a single step forward.
He seemed casual, calm – but his eyes were colder than Ginny had ever seen him.
A slow anger replaced the chill in his eyes, and he looked up at the Dementors, his wand coming up as if in slow motion.
"Sum est al khenim Ra!" Bill's voice echoed, and the air stilled. The sun seemed to flare brighter, and a shimmering wall of heat sprang up between the Burrow and the Dementors. The scent of hot sand washed over her, along with a wave of warmth. The Dementors floated back, haunted howls echoing as they vented their rage.
A hint of relief passed over Harry's face as the heat washed over them.
Bill faced the Death Eaters. They seemed to be moving in slow motion, dragging their wands up even as Bill was casting.
"Ras'en to'liat!" He made a slashing motion with his wand, a streamer of violet light streaking through the air. The streak expanded, and slid through the wall of heat. Like a whip, it struck across two of the Death Eaters, throwing them to the ground, binding them under a net of violet filaments. A third dove out of the way, but Bill flicked his wand, almost dismissively.
A blue flash of light exploded in front of the Death Eater, and he dropped to the ground, lines of electricity running over his body. Another quick motion, and ropes wrapped around him, binding him to the ground.
The Death Eaters hurled spells, but they splashed harmlessly against the shield in a blinding display of prismatic pyrotechnics.
Moving only his arm and his wand, Bill pointed at the remaining Death Eaters, muttering under his breath. The incantation was longer, but the effect was nothing short of spectacular.
The ground beneath their feet seemed to turn to liquid, bucking and rolling like the seas and high tide. Stumbling and falling, the Death Eaters were wrapped in cocoons of earth.
Ginny tore her eyes from her brother and looked down at the wizard in her lap. He was once again curled into a fetal ball, and was clutching helplessly at his scar, his wand forgotten on the ground.
"No...you can't..."
She was rocking him like a child, murmuring in his ear, begging him to stay with her. Somehow she knew if he closed his eyes, she would lose him.
His eyes widened, looking at something only he could see, and his hand reached up and pushed her arms with desperate strength. "Let me go! He can't take you too!"
She looked down into his eyes, and was drawn into green fire.
...She stood above his body again, blood pooled at her feet. Her wand was in her hand, and she was in her Hogwarts robes – the same ones she had worn her first year.
In front of her, smiling rakishly, Tom Riddle shook his head.
"Such a dear, dear boy. He really musn't be so rude as to refuse my invitation."
Ginny stepped over him, protecting him with herself. "Leave him alone, Tom. I'm not eleven anymore."
Tom laughed. "No, Snapdragon, you're certainly not."
She winced at the use of his pet name for her. He smiled warmly, and kept laughing as if they had just shared a private joke.
"I'm not going to kill him, Ginnevra. Really now! Why would I do that now that I have him at my feet, where he properly belongs?"
Tom raised his wand and pointed at Harry.
"Crucio!"
Harry's body convulsed, and he screamed. It tore through her, and she snapped her wand up and around. "Protego!"
Nothing happened; Harry still twisted and writhed at her feet, her Shield Charm useless against Riddle.
Shadows gathered around him like a cloak, and his handsome face changed with those shadows; pale, thin, snake-like...glowing red eyes boring into her.
"Step aside, girl. He is mine."
He held his wand casually, keeping the Curse on Harry with negligent ease.
"His mind is mine. His body is broken. His soul is empty, and he is alone. You will turn away, and leave him to me."
Ginny raised her head and met those glowing eyes. "No."
He twisted his wand, and Harry screamed again, his muscles seizing hard enough he was practically lifted from the ground.
"Give him to me, or I will not stop until I have destroyed him. I will drive his mind and his body apart...he will be a gibbering, delirious invalid. Would you wipe the drool from his chin? Change his diapers?"
"Leave. Him. Alone." Ginny stared at Voldemort, her wand pointed straight out at him, willing him away from Harry.
He lifted the curse from Harry and pointed his wand at her, and his voice hissed. "Imperio!"
For a brief second, Ginny felt like she was floating, drifting away...but she bit her lip hard enough to make it bleed, snapping her back to reality so hard her head spun.
Idiot girl! She scolded herself, raising her Occlumency against Voldemort.
"You have grown stronger, haven't you, Snapdragon?" Voldemort chuckled, his features shifting between the Dark Lord and Tom Riddle.
"Fiat Inferno!" Ginny slashed her wand side to side, a wall of fire erupting between Voldemort and her and Harry.
She ducked down below it, her wand held ready. She gripped Harry's hand. "I'm still here. I'm not going anywhere!"
"Finite Incantatem." The Dark Lord's voice hissed, and the flames vanished, but Ginny was ready for him.
"Reducto! Stupefy! Expelliarmus!" She spat spells rapid-fire, but Voldemort waved them away as if they were flies.
"Relashio!" He pointed at Harry, a streak of fire lancing towards the half-conscious boy.
Harry's eyes flashed with green light and he gasped out: "Protego!"
The air around Harry flared green and the shield snapped into existence.
As the bolt of fire reflected back at Voldemort, the Dark Lord whirled away, appearing to their side.
Even as he raised his wand, Ginny struck first. "Pario Levin attono!"
The lightning bolt caught the Dark Lord's wand hand. He snarled in pain, but waved off the electricity.
"Oh my, Snapdragon. Did I not tell you that you had power?"
He gestured with his wand, and Harry's body rose into the air. He twisted his wrist, and Harry's body bent backwards. She could hear popping noises and could see his mouth forced open in a rictus of pain.
Ginny leapt between Harry and Voldemort, putting herself in front of the Dark Lord's wand. Her own wand slashed up and across, an arc of violet light splitting the air.
The Dark Lord blinked.
Harry fell to the ground with a dull thud. He raised his head and held out his wand. "Expecto Patronum!"
Once again, Prongs leapt into being, charging straight at the Dark Lord; shining brighter than the sun...she had to look away or be blinded.
Harry fell to the ground with a cry and a heavy thud. She was on her knees next to him.
Her wand was in her hand.
He was once again holding his wand, and green light was fading from around him.
He looked at her, and tried to smile. She tried to smile back, helping him lay back in her lap.
"I'm sorry...just...wanted it to stop." He sucked in air and convulsed, whimpering. "...wanted to go home...so tired..."
"We beat him, Harry...he's gone..."
He curled tighter against her, pulling himself up so his head was pressed against her stomach
She shivered at the chill in the air, and looked over at her brother. Bill barely spared them a glance; his eyes were locked on the Dementors as they tried to break through the shield he'd erected. Lines of frost seemed to creep along the edges of it and spread, like cracking glass, across its surface as their scabrous hands pressed against it.
They howled, the spectral notes vibrating her bones.
Why doesn't he cast the Patronus Charm?
Bill held his wand up, his mouth moving in voiceless incantations. Sweat ran down his face, but he didn't blink. He didn't move. The ground at his feet had changed; instead of dirt and grass, there was a perfect circle of golden sand.
In the distance, just past edge of the Burrow's backyard, there was a flash of fire and a man stood, his features blurred by the shield.
"Expecto Patronum!"
The voice held an echo of power Ginny had never dared to imagine. It reverberated through air and the ground. Waves of silver light pulsed out from the figure as he strode toward the Burrow.
Ginny blinked. She could barely see anything but the pulsating silver glow. Argent shadows shimmered around her, and the approaching figure seemed to be a silhouette outlined in silver fire.
The Dementors crumpled in midair, twisting and writhing as they withered away before her eyes. Trapped between Bill's shield and the Patronus Charm, the Dementors dissolved even as the silver light paled and faded away.
There was another flash of fire above them and Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, circled overhead, drifting down to land next to Harry. With a soothing trill, he sang softly – so softly only she and Harry could hear.
Peace fell over her; Fawkes met her eyes and she saw the despair and pain there...the Phoenix only wanted to ease his pain...tears ran down the red-gold feathers to splash on Harry's face, dribbling into his mouth...
Dumbledore gently pulled her away.
End Chapter
Revised 12-25-07
