Four: Taking leave, part 2

After that, they could not stay at the Burrow. Travers and his nameless companion might have been one of many scouting parties across Britain, but when their report would fail to come in, Voldemort would send more Death Eaters. And without the surprise effect and against superior numbers, they would not fare well.

For the second time in as many days, Ginny was forced to leave a home behind. This time, she could at least pack. Not that there was much to stuff in her bag. Most of it had been left behind at Hogwarts. Some clothes joined the sword of Gryffindor and the invisibility cloak, as well as some other odds and ends.

Astoria just sat on Ginny's bed, watching her pack and studying her own hands. There were a hundred things Ginny wanted to say, first and foremost how it was good that Travers was dead. How they'd managed to get one of the killers who had ruined her life at the Department of Mysteries. But one look at Astoria was enough to know such remarks would not be helpful right now.

Truth be told, even Ginny was struggling with it. She'd expected to feel elated. She hadn't, after Rookwood. But she had attributed that to the whole madness of the day and the more important fact of having gotten a Horcrux. But this time, they had Travers to focus on and still it just felt… hollow.

There had been one second of triumph and elation when he'd fallen. And after that, nothing. Luna was still dead and vengeance a poor consolation price. Which didn't mean she didn't want to get the others still. She was determined and knew Astoria would be too, at least after a good night's sleep. It was just that vengeance hadn't been as satisfying as she'd hoped. The empty feeling that had left them with, would now be theirs to deal with.

With a sigh, she hurled the remains of the diadem into the bag. Why couldn't anyone have warned them? Why had she been so determined to attack? She'd almost lost Astoria. It had been reckless and stupid.

You were simply making your house proud. And be honest, the results don't lie, Tom encouraged her.

"Shut up," she muttered, earning herself a confused look from Astoria. "Just talking to myself," she clarified, earning her a concerned look instead.

"Are you alright, Ginny?" Astoria asked. Great. Now her friend was worried she was losing her mind. But at least it had snapped Astoria out of her lethargy.

"I'm fine. Really. I'm fine," Ginny repeated, pushing her hair back. "It's just. I just hate it all." She zipped her bag shut and picked it up. "Let's go to Grimmauld Place."

Without another word, she headed for the door, trying not to look at the poster of the Holyhead Harpies. The picture on her desk, however, did give her pause. On it was her family, half of it bothering the other half, all grouped in front of the Burrow. Harry was there too, standing next to Ron and looking both surprised and ecstatic for being included. It had been right before the Quidditch World Cup. Before the Triwizard Tournament. Before Voldemort's return. Before…

She picked up the frame and passed it to her friend. "This is why you shouldn't feel bad about killing Travers, Tori."

Astoria stared at the picture and nodded before passing it back. Ginny carefully removed the picture from the frame, folded it up and tucked it inside her robes.

"Let's go," Ginny repeated, walking down the stairs as she heard the ghoul stir above them in the attic. Even that she already missed.

#

Deciding to go to Grimmauld Place proved far easier than actually going there. Flying was out. Even if they would find the way, they'd be spotted by Muggles for sure. It was also too eerily similar to how a year ago, they'd set out for the Ministry. Ginny told herself it was silly. It still didn't prevent her from shooting the plan down.

The floo wasn't an option either. Even if Grimmauld Place would be connected to the floo network—which Ginny doubted, it struck her as far too plebeian for the Black family—that still raised the question of the secret keeper. With Dumbledore dead, who could let people in on the secret? Was it everyone, as she vaguely remembered hearing somewhere once? It made sense, as she had been able to tell Astoria all about their grimy headquarters. But she wasn't going to risk her friend getting stuck in some floo halfway London.

This had been a lot easier with Bill and Fleur to side-along apparate her last time. But Merlin knew when they would get back. And what could happen in the meantime

So they settled for Muggle public transport, with Ginny's knowledge limited to a few trips with the family and that one clandestine outing with the twins, and Astoria's knowledge basically non-existent. But they ended up on a train eventually, even if it lacked the charm of the Hogwarts Express.

Unfortunately, Muggle transport meant everyone kept staring at Astoria's robes. Ginny at least had been able to change after everything. Astoria was still down to her Hogwarts robes that even a few cleaning charms and a few of Fleur's perfume bottles later continued to evoke memories of smoke and fire. They'd tried both Ginny wardrobe—modest— and Fleur's—decidedly not so—but her friend had drowned in both. It hadn't been a surprise. Fleur was at least a head taller, and Astoria was at least a few sizes smaller than Ginny too. So Hogwarts robes it had been.

"If you want to go home to pick up some of your belongings, I'm sure we can arrange something once we get to the Headquarters," Ginny offered tentatively.

Astoria shook her head, looking sad and amused at the same time. "Thank you Ginny, but I'm afraid that's the first place they'll look. I'll just go buy some new stuff. Or we get the DA to smuggle my dresses and robes out of Hogwarts. I do wish I'd bothered to invite other Slytherins to our little homework club," she said, staring out of the window.

Thick droplets of water clattered against the window, making a fool of anyone who thought that it was Spring just because the calendar said so. Ginny followed Astoria's gaze outside, quickly looking away when she saw her own reflection. The scars had been joined by a patchwork of burns and cuts, looking even more gruesome than usual.

As she shifted her focus to Astoria, it was impossible to ignore how she nervously bounced her knee up and down. "Are you worried about your family?" she asked.

Astoria didn't bother to look away from the English landscape as she answered. "No."

"It's alright if you are."

"But I'm not," Astoria said, turning to Ginny. "Daphne's been saying all the right things. Mum and Dad have been doing the same. They'll be fine," she said, spitting out those last words with enough venom in her tone that some of the passengers turned their heads. "They've made their choice. A safe, cautious choice."

Ginny nodded, unsure what else to say. She agreed with her friend. The Greengrass family hadn't exactly shown much spine during the conflict. But she could hardly say that outright, could she?

Astoria didn't mind Ginny's silence, she just kept going. "Maybe they're worried about me, maybe they're not. It doesn't matter. All that matters is, we're fighting and they aren't. Fuck them," her friend concluded, turning back to the window.

Once again, Ginny was at a loss for words. She could argue that at least her friend's family was safe. If she was honest with herself, part of her wished the rest of her family hadn't bothered with this whole war and had all stayed safe, rather than dead. But would she still love them as much? When they saw injustice and a struggling world, and did nothing? Or would she resent them like Astoria did?

A man on the other end of the aisle cleared his throat. "Excuse me, Miss? I couldn't help but overhear your conversation," he began. He looked to be of about middle age, balding and sporting a rather unfortunate moustache.

Neither Ginny nor Astoria responded, Ginny too busy retracing their past conversation and wondering if she'd just violated the Statute of Secrecy. She didn't think she had, but it made her regret taking Muggle public transport yet again.

The man, however, was clearly not to be deterred, even if he did start when he caught a look at Ginny's scars. "Now, I don't know what you're going through, of course—"

That would be a good reason for him to stop talking, Tom pointed out. Ginny had to fight the urge to laugh.

"—but when I was younger, I got into conflict with my parents a lot. I thought they didn't understand me too. I was a bit of a hippie and protester myself," he chuckled.

All I'm saying is, you could kill him.

"I protested a lot back in the day. My parents didn't. They didn't understand how much was at stake, or so I thought. With the nuclear threat and the communists… it was wild."

Ginny cast a quick look in Astoria's direction and saw her reflection in the window sporting a grin. At least Astoria was seeing the humour of the situation.

"I even got into some scuffles with the police over it. You too perhaps, you look like you know how to fight. Some would say that's not very ladylike, but, as I always tell my kids, girls can fight too."

Or just the Cruciatus Curse.

"My point being, now that I'm a parent, well, it's not easy. Being a parent. Being a kid," he said with a deferential nod, "being a human. So, cut them some slack, right?" he said, trying and failing to make eye contact with Astoria.

"Your opinion is noted," she said coolly, still refusing to turn his way. The hint was clear, or so Ginny thought at least.

The man clearly didn't get it though. "I mean, you look like a bright kid. And you know what they say, it runs in the family. So I'm sure y'all can figure it out."

"We will, thank you," Astoria said.

For a few seconds, the man was silent, almost enough for Ginny to hope they'd managed to break free from the conversation. Then he opened his mouth again. "So, you're making a train journey? I used to do that too, as a child."

#

No matter how many long-suffering looks they exchanged, the man—who they had by then learned was called Eddy—did not relent. Worse, he had to go all the way to London too. Or perhaps he was just so grateful to finally have an audience too polite to interrupt him. They not so much walked as sprinted out of the train when they got to King's Cross.

Both of them giggled when they rounded the corner. "Merlin, I thought he'd never shut up," Ginny panted, leaning against one of the stone arches.

"For all we know, he's still regaling the train with tales of his youth," Astoria chuckled, before screwing up her face. "I mean, 'did you know I went to Woodstock? Woodstock! Not common for a Brit to go all the way there'," she said, doing an uncanny impression of the man.

"He just wouldn't take a hint," Ginny said, picking up her bag again and then pausing.

"What?" Astoria asked, then following her gaze to platforms nine and ten, and what lay in between. It was tempting to close her eyes and run towards it without reckless abandon, like she'd done the first time she'd been allowed to accompany her brothers to the station, six years before she'd get her own chance. Merlin, she missed those days.

"Strange to think we won't be coming home that way," she said.

"For now," Astoria countered. "Besides, at least we're missing exams. Were you ready for the O.W.L.'s? Because I definitely wasn't."

"Honestly? I'd almost forgotten they existed. Most, I think. And don't tell me Chang was worried about her N.E.W.T.'s either."

"She mostly seemed to be worrying about you," Astoria conceded, eyes on the big station clock. "Come on, we should get going. Before your brothers come home and start worrying where you went."

"I'm sure the two dead Death Eaters will tell a tale on their own. But yeah, you're right. Come on, I think I vaguely remember us taking the red line last time around. The Bakerloo line or something?"

"I think that one's brown," Astoria said, studying the multi-coloured map like a fish having its first encounter with a camel.

"Brown, whatever." Ginny rifled through her collection of Muggle money. The train had depleted most of it, but it should suffice. And otherwise they could add a pawn shop visit to their tour of Muggle London. Even half-molten, the diadem should fetch a pretty penny.

#

It did prove to be enough, just. And it did turn out to be the Bakerloo line that they needed too. Ginny was feeling triumphant, all the more so as on the Tube people at least had the decency to shut up, rather than engage strangers in conversation. Even better, she knew how to navigate from the Tube station to Grimmauld Place 12—surprising Astoria but herself even more so.

Grimmauld Place was still there, looking all dreary and depressing. Astoria could see it too, which hopefully meant they'd all become secret keepers, rather than the Fidelius having failed.

"Is it silly to be nervous?" she asked Astoria.

"Why? You expect Moody to be angry with you?"

"Maybe," Ginny conceded.

"Understandable. I mean, the imposter was terrifying. I'm sure the real deal is just as scary," Astoria said sagely.

"You're not helping," Ginny grumbled as she walked up to the door. If she didn't knock, whoever was inside might think she was an attacker. If she did knock, she'd wake up Sirius' mother. And she'd fought two Death Eaters today, had endured Eddy's endless stories and had almost fallen in the gap when exiting the metro. Enough was enough. Without another word, she walked inside.