The last two days to Easter where spent in a constant state of turmoil. One moment, Ginny would be counting down the hours, minutes, seconds until she could hold her family in her arms again and would finally be free of the ever-oppressive atmosphere of Hogwarts.
The next, she'd desperately run through hallways under the cloak or rifle through library books in a desperate hope of finding a clue. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to return to Hogwarts or not, but as long as she hadn't found the Horcrux, she knew she'd have no other choice but to do so. She'd do what Harry no longer could.
Regardless of state she was in, she'd always worry that one moment Rookwood would march in and declare that Easter holiday was cancelled—either for the whole school, or just her.
Instead, he remained conspicuously absent from both meals and classes, the latter taken over by an ill-humoured Thorfinn Rowle who brought even less pedagogic talent to the table than Rookwood. As the latter was mad as a hatter—as Astoria had put it so finely—that was quite the accomplishment.
Snape, however, seemed to be everywhere. Perhaps he had recognised her mania and thought it would reveal something to him. Perhaps he just liked to see her squirm. Regardless, he always seemed there just at the edge of her awareness. Wandering the same hallways she did, searching the same shelves she did. He even signed a pass to the restricted section for her, claiming it would probably help her with Rookwood's essays.
And still, the hours, minutes, seconds went by mercilessly, until she suddenly found herself back on the Hogwarts Express together with Astoria. The second the train let out a loud whistle and sprung into motion, it felt like she were hit by a wasting curse as all the stress and adrenaline left her body, leaving only exhaustion and fear.
Astoria gave her one long look and then hurled a chocolate frog at her face. With instinct borne from many hours in the Room of Requirement and the Quidditch pitch, as well as a lifetime being the younger sister of Fred and George, she plucked it out of the air.
"What was that for?" she asked as she bit off the frog's head.
"You looked sad," Astoria said as she bit into her own chocolate frog. "So I figured I'd distract you."
"By throwing chocolate frogs at me?"
Astoria gave her an unreadable look. "Did it work?"
"Yes, yes it did dammit," Ginny muttered as she brushed some chocolate slivers off her robes.
Astoria chucked a second frog at her head and grinned. "Good."
#
For the first time since she'd started going to Hogwarts, Ginny did not pretend to play it cool as the train rolled into the station. Instead, she stuck her head out of the window, desperate to catch a glimpse of a gaggle of redheads as quickly as possible. She was not alone in the attempt; many students were copying her, desperate for any sign that their families were whole still.
At first, the train was moving too fast, then an errant cloud of steam blocked her sight. But then she saw them. Mum and Dad. They looked exhausted, and both seemed to be sporting at least one extra scar, but they were alive and as soon as they saw Ginny, their faces lit up as only that of parents could. Parents who did not bring ill tidings.
Ginny may not have been the first out of the train, but she was the first in her parents' arms after a sprint that would have been the envy of many an aspiring athlete, especially for someone in robes. Dad lifted her up and spun her around like he hadn't done for years. For that, she had grown slightly too tall, and also too proud of her adolescent independence. Today she didn't care. She was home. They were alright and there was so much she wanted to say or ask, but instead all she could do was cry and hug them and let them envelop her in kisses.
"You're alright. Thank Merlin you're alright," Mum kept repeating over and over again as it dawned on Ginny that she hadn't been the only one afraid.
#
The ride home was spent filling each other in. It turned out the Quibbler had been fully on point with its information. Perhaps that was why Xenophilius Lovegood had disappeared. Ginny swallowed when she heard the Rookery had burnt to the ground. No body had been found, no Dark mark had lit up the sky, but the signs were there for everyone else to read.
Muggleborns had been disappearing too. Some members of the Order had too, though most seemed to have made themselves scarce pre-emptively, either to better strike from the shadows, like Moody, or to leave England altogether. She swallowed when she heard McGonagall was in St Mungo's—had been since the fall of the Ministry. Yet she still lived and the rumour was she'd return to Hogwarts next year. Voldemort had decreed through Yaxley that they could not deny the Hogwarts students her Transfiguration skills. It seemed he was as unwilling to remove her as Umbridge had been.
But for each sliver of good news, there was tragedy. Kingsley was gone, as were Dedalus Diggle and Mundungus Fletcher. Emmeline Vance would in all likelihood never wake up again, now nothing but a comatose shell of her former glory in the Janus Thickey Ward, alongside Neville's parents. The Ministry too had suffered grievous losses. Amos Diggory had gone down fighting alongside far too many others.
And somehow, the Weasley family had come out unscathed for once. And it was all due to Percy, as it turned out. Her parents, she and the twins all sat around the kitchen table, words coming out haltingly even as Ginny drank in all the familiar sights again. The last burden had slipped off her shoulders as soon as she'd walked through the door. She was home. Safe. Together with her family, though as it turned out, it had cost them.
"Percy made a deal with Yaxley," Dad explained, his voice tinged with distaste when he spoke the Death Eater's name. "It seems they were unwilling to spill even more Pureblood blood, and when he came to them on the eve before the Ministry's fall, a deal was struck. After his démarche with Fudge last year, they were willing enough to believe ambition could trump principles.
"Bill almost hexed him when he came home and declared we were 'out of the fight', as he put it. That the Ministry would fall, and we would let it happen."
Mum shook her head at the memory. "I think we were all ready to hex him. I thought he'd finally learned, and then he'd done something so stupid and selfish. But as it turns out, he was acting on Dumbledore's orders."
"Or so he claims at least," Fred spat out. It earned him a glare of their parents, but George nodded, even as his twin pressed on. "What are these 'orders'? All he's done so far is work overtime at the Ministry, and get a snake tattoo. It all seems rather convenient, doesn't it?" he challenged.
The anger in his tone shocked Ginny. For a while, she had had her doubts too. But all the memories of the new Percy had driven any doubt to the back of her mind as time progressed. There had been too much clear love that he'd shown them.
Out of character, no? Almost as if he was laying the groundwork for something more, Tom whispered.
He had learned, they all had. And she knew better than anyone else at the table how many desperate gambits Dumbledore had been putting in place near the end.
"I don't believe it," she said firmly, both to Tom and Fred.
Fred raised an eyebrow. "Why? It wouldn't be the first time he betrayed the family."
"Enough, Fred," Mum snapped.
"Someone's got to say it, right? Have any of you looked at the clock lately?"
Ginny hadn't, too afraid to see the emptiness where had once been Ron's and Charlie's dials. But as she followed Fred's accusing finger, she saw all their dials pointing at mortal peril. It shouldn't have been a surprise, perhaps, but it still felt like gut punch. But only after the initial shock had faded, did she realise one dial was pointing at a different position: Percy's indicated 'lost'.
George held up his open hands, palms facing them, defending his twin as much as himself. "Mum, he's family. But I mean, the Death Eaters ate his story up, right? Can he be that good of a liar? He claims he even met You-Know-Who. How can he deceive You-Know-Who?"
The table exchanged looks, telling a whole tale in itself. This was no new discussion and as vehement as her parents were in disagreeing with the twins, could it be that they were doubting Percy too? Still, to her, the answer was simply.
"Voldemort doesn't understand love."
Only when the rest stared at her, did she realise she'd said it out loud. In for a Knut, in for a Galleon. "Dumbledore told me that once. Voldemort's famous blind spot. Of course he'd be willing to believe Percy would be an opportunistic dealmaker. It's what he'd do."
"And the other Death Eaters? Do none of them understand love too? Some of them are married," Fred said.
"Not that that's always a guarantee," George quipped.
"Would you tell Voldemort he's wrong?" Ginny asked. "Or would you rather avoid the risk of being hit by an Unforgivable or two?"
You make me sound like a megalomaniac, Ginny. How impolite, Tom muttered. She could see him standing there in the corner of the kitchen, leaning against the fridge with his arms crossed. She shook her head to dispel the image.
"Ginny's right," Mum said, steel in her voice. "Percy did what he had to do, both for the war and for us. And that's that. I for one am grateful that it's kept all of us safe."
The door swung open and promises of safety and wards notwithstanding, everyone pulled their wands and pointed them at a grinning Bill. "Hello family. Happy to see you too."
Ginny was still in the process of stowing her wand when her eldest brother enveloped her in a hug that could even rival Mum's. "Hi Ginny, good to have you back." He held her at a distance, studying her with the concern of an older brother, or possibly a general marshalling his forces. "Percy promised us you were safe, but with that nutter Rookwood, you never know. You are alright, right?" he asked, sobering instantly.
Ginny nodded and was rewarded with another brilliant smile. Bill looked far more exhausted than the rest of the family, no easy feat.
"You're home early," Dad commented.
"I couldn't miss my sister's homecoming, now could I? Or at least not by much," he added as he grabbed a seat. "And while walking up, I couldn't help but notice you two were bombarding her with your conspiracy theories." He gave the twins a pointed look.
"Someone's got to be critical," Fred began.
"As Mum and Dad have embraced the prodigal son again."
"And you're always at Gringotts."
"It falls to us," the twins concluded unisono.
Bill gave them a look of annoyance. "I like to think we already have Moody for that. Speaking of which, he's got a letter for you." He took a blank piece of paper and slid it towards them.
"Bill—" Mum began but he raised up a hand to silence her.
"I know, Mum. But take it up with him. It wasn't my idea. I already argued too," Bill said with a sigh, massaging his temples.
"All I'm saying is, Dumbledore wouldn't have agreed to send children to war."
Fred and George bristled at that. "Mum, we're adults." Meanwhile, Ginny and Bill exchanged a look. By the end of it, at least, Dumbledore definitely hadn't felt any qualms in that regard.
Dad intervened before anyone else could. "Be that as it may, we're at war, the twins are adults and Moody does what he feels is best."
"Lupin didn't agree either."
"And when was the last time we heard of Lupin? The coward made a run for it, I'm sure," Fred snapped. "Or maybe he's drinking cocktails with Percy and the other Death Eaters. Appeasement, I think it's called?" Fred said, even as the rest gave him a mixture of annoyed and confused looks. "Binns talked about it when discussing the Third Goblin War," he added.
"Or maybe he's realised Moody is so focused on revenge, he'll get everyone killed," Mum said coldly.
Ginny wanted to scream in frustration as her family descended into bickering. She was home, they were all alive and hale and all they could do was squabble? She closed her eyes and tried to block out the whole discussion as everyone got more and more irritated, Mum and Fred leading the charge. Ron and Charlie were dead, Voldemort was in charge and they couldn't even lock ranks? This was the DA all over again.
After what could have been five or fifteen minutes, she snuck out. It seemed no one noticed, too caught up in their discussion. So she went up the stairs and slammed her door shut behind her. She hardly heard it slam shut herself as at that point George joined the crescendo below too.
She was halfway writing a complaint letter at her desk to Astoria when a rhythmic knock rattled on her door. "It's open, Bill," she called out.
Her door squeaked—Dad must have forgotten to oil it, again— as he walked in and dropped into a crouch next to her chair. "I'm sorry about that." He winced as a door slammed downstairs; this one did rise above the shouting, but only just. "Not the homecoming you hoped for, I'm sure"
"Why are they like that?"
"Grief, fear, helplessness." Bill counted on his fingers as he spoke. "Take your pick. I'm sure Hogwarts has been horrible, but it's been the same here. Percy's bargain kept us safe, but too many others have disappeared, either during the takeover or afterwards. And while I'm grateful we're all here, it's hard not to feel guilty."
"But we're still fighting, right?" Ginny prompted.
"Of course. But funnily enough, that doesn't make me feel any less guilty whenever I read another obituary." Bill dropped on her bed and hid his face in his hands. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be putting this on you. Don't worry, I'll manage. I have Fleur, after all, and she has little patience for British 'istrionics," he said, leaving them sharing a smile. Ginny could perfectly hear Fleur say that. "How was Hogwarts?"
That was enough to wipe the smile off her face. "Rookwood's a madman, so is Snape and the hunt is leading us nowhere. I know there's a Horcrux, but I just can't find it. I look and look and look and just… nothing." The last word was more a snarl than anything else even as she resisted the urge to start breaking things. It was more Bill's presence than any concern for her possessions that held her back.
Bill straightened on the bed and gave her a patient look. "You're trying your best, Ginny."
She closed her eyes and tried to find the inner peace Padma had been going on about at the last DA session. "Yeah, and clearly it isn't enough. People are dying and we're facing an immortal maniac and I'm the only one who can stop him." She could feel Bill giving her a hug. "It's not enough."
She wasn't sure for how long she'd been repeating those last words. All she knew was that by the end of it, her throat was hoarse and she was crying.
"I wish I could have spared you that burden," Bill said sadly, rubbing her head like he'd done when she'd been little and the twins' teasing had become too much for her. "But this war… we're all soldiers now, or spies, or killers… but you're not alone. Fleur and I are closing in on a Horcrux, I promise. That'll be one less."
"But the one at Hogwarts, that one's my responsibility."
"It's not," Bill interrupted.
"I'm the only one who can find it though. Dumbledore—"
"Dumbledore believed in you, as do I."
As did Harry. I'm glad you're here, Gin. And she was letting them all down.
Bill pressed on. "But that doesn't mean you need to go it alone. if you don't manage to find it by the time Fleur and I succeed at Gringotts, we'll come to Hogwarts and help you look. And if need be, we'll tear it down stone by stone until we find the Horcrux. No matter how many points Snape takes from Gryffindor."
That at least elicited a giggle from Ginny.
"Thank you Bill."
"But until we wreck Hogwarts, can I do anything else for you?"
She hesitated, not sure if she wanted to add to Bill's load. Behind his bravura, he breathed exhaustion. But the same could be said of her.
"I think I know what the other two Horcruxes are."
Bill looked at her as if she'd just grown antlers. "How?"
"Dumbledore left me memories. And the results of his own search." She shivered as she recalled Dumbledore's memory of the journey through the cave. How the horrendous potion and then the Inferii had almost brought him low. Part of her resented him for leaving her this burden, but there was no doubt he had given it all until the end.
"And?" Bill prompted her.
"One's his snake, Nagini. That one should probably go last." Bill nodded sagely at that. "The other, well, Dumbledore found its hiding place, but someone else beat him to it. It's Slytherin's locket, which somehow found its way to Grimmauld Place 13."
"It's just there? We can end it tonight then, there's an Order meeting. I'll take you there!" Bill interrupted her enthusiastically.
"The thing is… I'm quite sure we tossed it out during clean-up."
She could see her brother's enthusiasm falter. "So it could be laying on any magical junkyard?"
"Hardly," she shook her head. "Horcruxes…" she swallowed. "Horcruxes call out to people. It will have found a way to escape ignominy. I suspect Kreacher might have rescued it. He loved to save Black heirlooms."
"Alright. I wish it'd been Dobby, but we can work with this." Bill stood up and began to pace. "I haven't seen the wretched Elf for ages, but Sirius can just summon him and then we'll get to the bottom of it. I don't know where he's hiding, but I'm sure the Order can find him."
Only then she realised that only she knew of Sirius' fate. Like a punch to the gut, she remembered Snape's crowing. "Bill… Snape killed Sirius."
"What? Why?" Bill's last attempt at humour left him as he buried his face in his hands. "I knew they hated each other but this is just beyond the pale."
"He claimed it was necessary. I think he's utterly lost it."
"He has been erratic at Order meetings lately," Bill admitted. "Both in attendance as well as cooperation."
Maybe you should tell him he tried to read your mind? But then you'd have to admit I helped you. And would he still love you and trust you then? Or would he see you as a threat? Tom was laughing inside her head.
But he had a point. They would never believe she could have kept Snape away from the information otherwise. And then, then what? Would he speak of her, like the twins spoke of Percy? Or would they send her to a healer or psychologist? Yet another mind broken under the strain of the war and Dumbledore's legacy?
Of course, we both know that you're not insane. And that I'm one hundred percent on your side. But they'll never believe that. Small, narrow minds that they have.
"Merlin, why can't anything ever be simple?" Bill swore. "One's in Gringotts, one's in Hogwarts, one's at Voldemort's feet and one's just lost." He punched the wall and then grimaced. "Sorry, it's just—"
"I know," Ginny interrupted.
"But we'll fix it, somehow. Fleur and I will search the house, just in case, and if that doesn't turn up anything, we'll tell the rest of the Order that Kreacher needs to be found. Without divulging the reason why," Bill said, speaking far too quickly. "There's a meeting at the end of next week. Want to come with?"
"Mum's going to love that," Ginny deadpanned.
"I suggest we don't tell her. I'll come find you and then we sneak out."
"And when she shows up at the meeting?"
"She won't. Mad-Eye's decided it's safer to compartmentalise the meetings. Less risk of information leaks, or the Death Eaters taking us out in one raid."
"That sounds like Moody," Ginny admitted.
"And that's not even half of it. You'll see."