The Boy Who Lived No More
Book 1 of The Girl Who Survived
One: The last leaves of summer
The eighteenth of June was the day her world had stopped moving.
Dolohov looks at her and grins. It is a foul sight, a smile borne of cruelty rather than joy. He waves his wand and the next moment, all she knows is pain. Sharp agony, spreading across the right side of her body, claws gliding over her until they dig into her face. Her mind screams, and she with it. Pain. No beginning or end. Nothing but pain.
Until it is gone. Her vision only returns gradually, blurry shapes that slowly become the Department of Mysteries. Dolohov is no longer towering over. She is trembling as Harry pulls her up, his eyes briefly widening when he sees her face.
"What's wrong?" she asks, struggling to speak, to enunciate. It is if the pain has numbed all her muscles to the point that even talking has become a chore.
"Nothing," he says, a shadow passing across his face. "We need to go."
"Where's Neville?" she asks. He'd been with them only moments ago.
"Neville's dead," he says.
She doesn't resist as he drags her along, barely able to stand on her feet. She doesn't want to believe it, can't believe it. Harry is here. He's saved her from a basilisk, has faced down dementors and You Know Who. Somehow, he's always come out on top. So how can Neville be dead?
They stumble into the room beyond. It is massive, almost like an amphitheatre. In the centre, upon a raised stone dais stands an archway, hung with a black veil. There is no wind, and yet it flutters. Something terrible is about to happen here, she can feel it.
He Who Must Not Be Named Returns
Dumbledore duels You Know Who to a standstill
Fudge resigns, Scrimgeour already waiting in the wings
Five Hogwarts students die in battle at the Department of Mysteries
The Boy Who Lived No More
Some headlines ended up being more respectful than others. Ginny missed most of them, confined to a bed at St. Mungo's. The healers later told her it was a miracle she'd even survived Dolohov's curse.
Truth be told, Ginny struggled to call it a miracle. The first month, she lived from one potion to the next, anything to stimy the constant pain that racked her body. A pain like a thousand knives gliding over her skin. Those first weeks, she only vaguely registered that her family stood by her bed. She never saw Ron, but it was impossible to draw conclusions when there was only pain.
Later, they told her she'd missed the funerals. They had tried to wait, they said, but never fully managed to explain why they hadn't. Ginny didn't mind. She wasn't sure if she'd been able to stand there, the Girl Who Survived, as her friends and family were committed to the earth, eyes on her instead of those far too small coffins.
Mid-July, she'd been allowed to go home. For the rest of the summer, her family had always been nearby, too grateful or too afraid to let her far out of sight.
Mum had brought her breakfast in the early weeks when she had still been confined to bed. Sometimes, she'd talk. Sometimes, she'd just hold her as they cried together.
Dad had been next to her as she'd learned to walk again. First, hesitant, every step a torture, but never willing to surrender. One step, then the next, guided along by his gentle encouragements.
Fred and George had flown with her, the three of them rising higher and higher till it was so cold they could pretend that was the only reason they felt numb. They never spoke of it, but in those moments high up in the sky surrounded by nothing but blue, she felt they understood her better than even Mum did.
Percy had come home, crying tears of shame and regret, denouncing Fudge and condemning his own foolishness. Before, she'd have given him a piece of her mind. Now, she'd learned brothers were too precious to squander.
Bill came home as well and brought along this horrible French girl, the one who had been a Triwizard Champion, though never the Triwizard Champion. Ginny had been so ready to hate her, but after Fleur broke down crying and told them how sorry she was about Ron and Harry, Ginny no longer could. For that, her grief had been too earnest.
And Charlie, Charlie stalked through the house grim-faced, his mind for once not on dragons but on ashes. He worked through his grief while fighting and often disappeared for long nights that left Mum staring at their clock, always afraid Charlie's dial would shift from mortal peril to something even worse. Ginny didn't stop him, only begged the world not to take another brother from her.
It was just before Hogwarts started that she visited the graves alone. Five tombstones, still shining and surrounded by flowers two months later. At that moment, the question of why she had survived and no on else had become almost too crushing to bear. Gentle Luna, feeling and seeing so much more in this world than anyone else. Only a single Quibbler had been released since that day, twenty pages all pitch black. Sweet Neville, who had asked her to the Yule Ball and then had stepped on her toes all night, not missing a single apology. A single candy wrapper had been left amidst the flowers. Brilliant Hermione, a thousand causes had been robbed of its crusader. Ginny readjusted her S.P.E.W. badge, wishing she'd listened a bit more. Loyal Ron, her big brother and now buried next to his brother in all but blood. And Harry. Oh Harry… He'd died, the world still thinking him a liar.
It was the last time she allowed herself to cry, alone and sunken to her knees in front of the resting place of her friends. She tried to think of all the times they'd had together, but every time those horrible memories of the Department of Mysteries came to the fore. Blood on her hands. Blood on the walls. Blood of her friends.
There was no joy to be found in returning to Hogwarts. For that the emptiness would be too obvious. Too glaring. But it was a reprieve after a summer of tears and funerals. She wasn't quite sure what she was anymore, what she still could be now that her brother were dead. Her friends were dead. The boy she loved, would always love, was dead. At times, she just wanted to take her broom and fly, never to return. Higher and higher until the cold constricted her. But that would mean letting them win.
That year's 1st September was all wrong. For once, the Weasley family arrived with plenty of time to spare, no gaggle of redheads, but a single child accompanied by a mother and a father whose hairs had begun to show streaks of grey. Last year, they'd sent four of their children to Hogwarts. Now it was just Ginny and she wasn't quite sure who she was anymore. Her brother, dead. Her friends dead. The boy she loved, loves, dead.
Inside the train, it felt all wrong too. Every second she kept expecting someone to walk into the empty compartment she'd secured for herself. Harry lugging that dreadful trunk of his inside and once again a few pounds lighter than in June. Hermione obscured by books and with a cat circling her. Ron tormented by a fervently hooting Pigwidgeon, his annoyance masking his appreciation for the stupid loud thing. Neville carrying yet another awful plant that only he could love. Luna spinning tales of Blibbering Humdingers. She swallowed a lump in her throat as she reminded herself she'd promised not to cry. And outside the window, life moved on. Children screaming and hugging, only the increased Auror presence a hint that something had changed. The first years would never get to see the Boy Who Lived or get scolded by Hermione. They'd never fully realise what they were missing.
Much to her surprise, no one entered her compartment during the first half of the train ride. No one sought to wheedle the full story out of her, not even Zacharias Smith. No one mocked her, not even Draco Malfoy, whose father had looked genuinely proud when his curse felled a child. No one even came to gawk at her horrible scars, the throbbing leaflike veins covering the whole right side of her face and ran further over the right side of her body underneath her robes. She alone had survived, but even then Dolohov had left a mark. Maybe this tragedy had finally inspired some decency amongst the Hogwarts students. Or perhaps her brothers were standing guard outside.
A knock on the compartment door interrupted her musings. So much for peace, though a soft knock was much more than she'd been hoping for.
"Yes?" she called out.
Padma Patil stuck her head through the door.
"Hi Ginny," she began and to her credit, she didn't even flinch when she met Ginny's eyes and the scar circling her right eye. "Can I come in? it's alright if you don't want me to."
Behind Padma, a few other students lurked. Though rather than trying to sneak a look inside, their backs were turned towards the compartment like a guard of honour. It seemed her brothers weren't the only ones capable of guarding a door. Briefly, her heart leapt. Dumbledore's Army, still vigilant.
"Come in," Ginny said, her voice hoarse from disuse. She swallowed. "Come in," she repeated, hoping she sounded less like a broken soul the second time. Judging by Padma's pitying look, she hadn't quite succeeded.
Padma sat down opposite her, prefect badge shining and hands wringing. She looked almost nervous. Briefly, Ginny wondered why they'd chosen Padma as the group's ambassador. Then she realised there were no obvious suspects left.
"Ginny, I- we are sorry," she began, looking away.
"Please Padma, don't," Ginny interrupted. She'd had enough pity and compassion at home. She wasn't sure what she was hoping to find at Hogwarts, if she was hoping for something at all, but not this.
"It's just-" Padma continued, but Ginny cut her off.
"I mean it. Don't," Ginny repeated. "Don't ask me what happened. Don't ask me how I'm doing. And don't pity me," she said, trying not to snap at Padma. Merlin knew she was trying to do the right. But she couldn't understand. It hadn't been her friends who had died. It had been Ginny's and there was no one else still at Hogwarts who could claim the same.
"Alright," Padma swallowed and then smiled. "Parvati told me you wouldn't want compassion. I should have listened to her."
"Yeah," Ginny said, almost grinning herself. This she could do. "Is all of Dumbledore's Army outside?"
"No, just four or five," Padma shook her head. "Not enough space. But almost everyone volunteered."
Ginny figured that meant Zacharias Smith and Marietta Edgecombe hadn't. And maybe not Michael Corner either, theirs had been an ugly break-up. It didn't matter. She was not alone.
"Did you have to fend off many people?" she asked. Padma shrugged.
"A few. I missed the start due to a prefect's meeting. You know how this school is," Padma offered. At that, Ginny did grin.
"Yeah, I was wondering why no one had barged in yet," she admitted, before they fell into an almost companionable silence, something she'd never expected to share with Padma Patil.
"Listen," Padma began, and for a second Ginny feared she was going to try compassion again. "I know you're tough and you can handle all of this alone. But you don't have to, alright? Everyone out there is on your side."
"Yeah," Ginny said, staring at the window as they lapsed into silence again. Outside, it had begun to rain, a thousand drops trickling down the glass. If she angled her face right, her reflection only showed the left side of her face. Unblemished. She could almost pretend everything was still normal.
"Padma?" Ginny said.
"Yes?"
"Thanks."
"Anytime."
It rained and rained as they sat there in silence. Padma perhaps thinking about what would have happened if she'd been at the Department of Mysteries, Ginny trying her best to think about anything but that. They'd probably have stayed silent for the whole ride if someone hadn't knocked.
Ginny started and instinctively reached for her yew wand. She hated how jumpy she'd become, but above all she hated the world that had made her so afraid of shadows and noises.
"Yes?" Padma asked, still living in a world where a knock could just be a knock, even with Dumbledore's Army standing guard outside.
"Padma?" a voice responded, so similar to hers that it had to be Parvati's. "There's someone here who wants to see Ginny," she said, opening the door slightly, her body blocking whoever it was from sight. On Parvati's chest shone a pin identical to Padma's. Someone had to take Hermione's place, Ginny had always known that, but it stell seemed wrong. That badge didn't belong to Parvati. It was a mean thought, she knew that, but she couldn't help but have it nonetheless.
"Are they one of us?" Padma asked, and when Parvati shook her head, Padma's expression hardened. "Send them away."
"No. it's fine," Ginny interrupted. She couldn't run forever. Better to do it now, with someone next to her rather than alone.
"It's a Slytherin though," Parvati warned and just like that, everyone in the compartment tensed at the thought of a student wearing green and silver.
"Who?" Ginny asked. There were far too many Slytherins whose parents had been there.
Travers hurls a sickly grey curse at her. It crackles as it whizzes past and explodes in a shower of grey fire when it hits the pillar. She can feel the heat. For a second, she is frozen. Terrified. A second curse is already on his lips, but Hermione's stunner hits him in the chest first.
Crabbe grimaces as his hands closes around Neville's throat, lifting up the boy. Disarmed or not, that doesn't stop the Death Eater. He only stops when Harry's knockback jinx throws him halfway across the room.
Lucius Malfoy actually laughs when he enters the auditorium and sees what remains of their group. His wand moves so fast Ginny doesn't even realise he's cast a spell. Not until Ron begins to cough up blood and sinks to the floor.
"The prophecy, Potter. The prophecy for a countercurse."
"The prophecy, Potter. The prophecy for a countercurse."
"What was that Ginny?" Padma asked, leaning closer, eyes brimming with concern. Only then Ginny realised she'd said those last words out loud.
"Nothing," she said, shaking her head to drive away the demons. "Who is it? Which Slytherin?"
"Astoria Greengrass," Parvati said with a shrug. "You two friends?" she asked.
"No," Ginny replied, confused.
She'd exchanged maybe three words with the girl over the past five years, despite sharing so many classes, always surrounded by green and silver. She'd never sneered at Ginny, something so many other Slytherins seemed to like to do, but she doubted that elevated her to the status of friend, even by Slytherin standards.
"Why is she here?" she asked.
"She wouldn't say," Parvati said. "She looked earnest, though."
Earnest. A Slytherin. A laugh escaped Ginny and she was surprised by how harsh it sounded. Judging by the other's expressions, she wasn't the only one.
"Fine, send her in," Ginny said.
A flash of silver and green entered the compartment. Green.
"Avada kedavra," Rookwood whispers.
It is the first time she ever sees the killing curse in action. It looks so harmless. A pale green light illuminates the dark, finding its way through the room and only barely missing Luna. Ginny can't look away, spots of green still dancing before her eyes. Luna just shrugs and throws a spell back at Rookwood.
She was clutching her wand so hard her knuckles turned white. Every instinct was telling her to fight or flee. Flee from Astoria Greengrass, ridiculous really. A girl shorter than her with brown hair and a complexion so pale she looked a bit sickly. Right now, she looked even worse than usual, maybe even more nervous than Ginny felt. Hard to blame her, really, with the death glare Padma was giving her.
"And?" Ginny asked, raising her left eyebrow. Before, she'd never been able to do that, her other eyebrow always following suit. But Dolohov's curse had damaged the nerves. Her smiles were a bit slower on that side, the tears less numerous and her right eyebrow, it no longer budged.
"Hi," Astoria said, voice higher than usual. "Could we… could we talk? Alone?" she added, clearly already expecting the acidic response on Ginny's tongue.
"I think it's better if we stay," Padma said, earning her a nod from Parvati who leaned against the compartment door. It was odd to see Parvati so serious, so severe. It suited Padma, it was what made her such a terrifying prefect, but on Parvati it looked wrong. Too grown-up too quickly. Just another casualty of the Department of Mysteries.
Ginny saw Astoria hesitate, could see her wanting to protest but not quite daring to. It was impossible to be afraid of someone like that. She couldn't allow herself to be. Then Dolohov would win.
"It's alright," Ginny said. The two Patils looked like they wanted to protest, but nodded and left when Ginny gave them a hard look. She was grateful for their protection, but she did not need it all the time. Not from Astoria Greengrass.
"Thank you," Greengrass said. "Can I… can I sit?" she asked.
"Go ahead," Ginny said, forcing her muscles to relax. She couldn't spend the next three years gripping her wand whenever a Slytherin was around. "Why are you here?" she asked as Greengrass sat down, smoothing out her robes without even noticing that she was doing it. Expensive robes too, bespoke no doubt. Once, it'd have made her self-conscious. Right now, she wasn't sure why she'd ever cared.
"I, uhm, wanted to talk to you. About what had happened," Greengrass said, brushing back her hair. The silver bracelets around her slender arms jingled softly as she moved.
"Get out," Ginny said, voice turning cold. She could have known. The first vulture eager for scraps, for a glimpse of the oh so exciting horror that had barged into her life.
"No. Not like that," Greengrass stammered. "I mean… Luna."
"Luna?" Ginny pressed, resisting the urge to hex the girl for even daring to utter that name.
"Luna was my friend as well," Greengrass said.
"She never mentioned you," Ginny said, resisting the urge to sneer.
"Of course not. That's how Luna was," Greengrass threw back, her eyes meeting Ginny's for the first. Parvati's words came back to her. Astoria Greengrass did seem earnest. But it remained impossible for her to reconcile this proper pureblood girl with Luna.
"Really?" Ginny prodded.
Greengrass just nodded and reached into her collar, pulling out a Butterbeer bottlecap necklace and it dawned on Ginny that perhaps it hadn't been the bracelets who'd jingled before.
"She gave you that?" Ginny asked, trying and failing to not sound hurt. Luna had never given her one. Though Ginny wasn't sure if she'd dared to wear it if she had. The thought was enough to fill her with shame.
"No, I made it myself. Luna said that way it was better at warding off wrackspurts and nargles," Greengrass said.
If the necklace hadn't been enough proof, the ease with which she spoke those strange words was. It took quite a bit of time around Luna to be able to tell all those crazy creatures apart. Truth be told, Greengrass even sounded a bit similar, the same airy inflection to her voice that Ginny had loved so much in Luna's.
"Okay," Ginny mumbled. "But still, why are you here?"
"I…" Greengrass began, voice trailing off. For a while, she just stared past Ginny, as if trapped by her own reflection in the glass. Then, she swallowed. "Luna asked me to come to the D.A."
"I didn't see you at any of our meetings," Ginny said and Greengrass shook her head.
"No, I was too scared," she admitted.
"And now? You're no longer scared?" Ginny asked.
"Even more than before. And that's why I want to join. If it's still happening," Greengrass added.
Was it still happening? Ginny wasn't sure. The D.A. had been Harry's thing. He'd been their leader, their teacher, always moving through the room to adjust a pose here or correct a pronunciation there, looking so much more alive than usual. Looking like he did on a broom. Happy. Beautiful. He'd never look that way again.
He falls down the stairs, so still and all alone. She can almost hear Tom laugh from his diary.
Ginny inhaled sharply, struggling to breathe, struggling to push back the memories, struggling not to cry. Not now, not in front of this girl in silver and green, Luna's friend or not. She could feel soft hands close around her own and when she looked up, expecting to find pity or even scorn in Greengrass' eyes, there was something else. Something fiercer. Sadness. Sadness and understanding. Greengrass hadn't been there, so she couldn't comprehend, not truly. But she did know grief. And somehow, that made Ginny feel a bit better.
"I… I don't know if there will still be a D.A.," she admitted.
"I understand. But, if it returns, let me know, alright?" Greengrass nodded.
"Of course," Ginny promised.
"Thank you. I'll… I'll leave you then," she said as she rose, straightening her robes again.
"No. Stay. If you want to, that is," Ginny said, unwilling to let this strange friend of Luna go. The only one who could even begin to understand.
For a second, Greengrass just stood there, hesitation written across her face. Ginny already wanted to scream, feeling stupid for extending a hand. What did she and Greengrass have in common, except some nebulous ties to a lost girl? But then she smiled and sat down again.
"I'd like that. It's a bit lonely in my compartment," she admitted.
"You don't have any…" Ginny began and then fell silent, unsure how to put it. She'd always believed the Greengrass girls to be popular in their house. Daphne was always surrounded by other Slytherins, laughing at her no doubt cruel jokes. And every time she saw Greengrass, she was always among plenty of green and silver. Always trailing them though, Ginny realised. Like someone who didn't fully belong.
"Friends?" Greengrass filled in, laughing hollowly. "No. Just girls who happened to get Sorted into Slytherin with me. Normally, I sit with them. But this year, I didn't want to. I already know what they'll say about this summer. About past June. I don't want to hear it as well," she admitted, a hint of iron creeping into her voice.
"No. I suppose not," Ginny conceded. "Did you attend Luna's funeral?" she asked, a question she hadn't dared to ask her family.
"Yes," Greengrass said. "It was… it was very much Luna. Very intimate. A ceremony in an open field, only about twenty people in attendance, half of them your family. Xenophilius led the ceremony, standing at the front in yellow robes even brighter than Dumbledore's," Greengrass said, gazing out of the window as she lost herself in the memories. She swallowed and continued.
"He spoke for more than an hour, telling us about his little Luna. How he'd seen her grow up and always felt he'd come up short, not being able to protect her as much as he wanted to, especially at Hogwarts. Especially on that day in June. How he was glad she'd at least been with her friends at the end. Because they meant everything to her," Greengrass said, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. Ginny vaguely noted her initials were embroidered onto it in green thread. When Greengrass spoke again, her voice was wobbly.
"He Disapparated after that. I haven't heard anything from him since, or the Quibbler. I went to their house a few times. But no one was home. Or at least, no one answered the door," she said, blowing her nose.
"I'm sorry for bringing it up," Ginny said.
"No. It feels good to talk about it with someone. My parents don't understand. Daphne doesn't either. They already couldn't understand why I wanted to attend the funeral of some strange girl who got killed by Death Eaters."
"Are your parents-"
"Death Eaters?" Greengrass interrupted before Ginny could decide how to phrase it. "No. But they think You Know Who will win. That's why they attended Crabbe Senior's funeral, even though Daphne can't stand his son. They even wanted me to attend," she snorted. "Never."
Suddenly, Ginny felt grateful for her family. Broken as they had all been by loss, at least they had been united in grief. All on the same side. All mourning the same five gentle souls.
For the third time that train ride, someone knocked and then without waiting for an answer, Padma walked in, Parvati right behind her, both looking worried. Clearly, they had not expected her conversation with Greengrass to last this long.
"Everything alright Ginny?" Padma asked, casting a look of distrust towards Greengrass, her wand already half drawn.
"We're fine," Ginny said.
"You sure?" she asked, giving her a meaningful look.
"Yeah," Ginny said, returning it. Despite it all, she was touched by the Patils 'protectiveness. They seemed to have at least understood that the rules had changed, that danger could be found even in a lithe Slytherin girl.
"Alright. Then we'll leave you to it. We're almost at Hogwarts though, so you might want to get changed," Parvati offered before leaving. Padma cast a final look at Greengrass and then left as well.
"I'll leave you to change," Greengrass said, heading for the door herself and then hesitating. "If you want, we can talk some more at school? If you want to be seen with me, that is" she said.
"I think it's you who should be worried, I'm the blood traitor here," Ginny said.
"After everything that happened, I'm done worrying."
"Well, so am I."
"Good, see you around then, Ginny," Astoria said.
"See you around, Astoria," Ginny said, and wasn't it odd to address a Slytherin like that."
"Please, call me Tori. Luna… Luna did that as well," she said hesitantly.
Then she was gone, robes billowing the way they seemed to do for all Slytherins.
First (and probably longest) A/N: So here we go, a divergence from canon as of the end of OOTP, leaving us with most of the main cast eliminated and Ginny as the new focal point. Needless to say that in this tale, she'll play a major role as she wrestles with trauma and loss. Other points of focus will be her fellow students and the Order, who will suddenly need to shoulder a heavier burden with the original main characters gone, as well as Voldemort's Death Eaters, whom I intend to make more competent and intimidating than in canon.
I will update weekly for book one (with the occasional mid-week update for the shorter chapters), then take a break as I start stockpiling chapters again for book two. I don't always write strictly chronologically so I kind of need a backlog. That said, as book one clocks in at 33 chapters (barring me breaking up or joining chapters during the editing that I'm doing right now), that's still quite some way off.
I'm using the books as my main source and will try to respect the laws of canon as much as possible, unless it gets in the way of my plans (such as Astoria canonically being a year below Ginny, but we're really short on named characters for her year). That said, like any author I add my own touches to each character, not to mention that they will be formed by the developments of the story, so your mileage may vary. As for the plot, it will gradually spin out of control. In the beginning, quite a few events will seem familiar, though they will develop differently. As of Christmas, nothing will be the same anymore. Consider that a threat or a promise, as you prefer. Both Voldemort and Dumbledore are more reckless here, one freed of the threat of the chosen one, the other robbed off his endgame.
Reviews would be very welcome, as would be any (constructive) feedback. While nothing spurs me on as much as sudden flashes of inspiration, reviews are a nice second and they definitely help stave off moments of self-doubt that preclude the aforementioned sudden flashes.