From Across the Great Divide, Chapter 15
Rated: R
Summary: A post-Hogwarts H/G fic. Strange circumstances draw Harry and Ginny closer together. But are they in danger? Romance, adventure, Monty Python, and tartan boxer shorts abound.
Harry left Leicester Square tube stop and made his way along Charing Cross Road, heading towards the Leaky Cauldron. He’d used Muggle transportation once again, since he was determined to take his time about reaching Diagon Alley. While he was sure what he was about to do was for the best, he was still torn in his mind. He was certain now that Ginny would understand, but it still felt to him like a betrayal. He cursed the circumstances that had forced him into this decision.
He entered Diagon Alley and began to amble down the crowded street, taking his time. Normally, he would have hunched his shoulders and walked quickly, keeping his gaze to the ground to avoid making eye contact with anyone. Today his goal was just the opposite: he wanted to attract attention, female attention, and if he was lucky there would be a Witch Weekly photographer handy.
He forced a smile to his face as he crossed glances with several witches in passing. He noted absently the way in which they stared back, but none of them stopped to talk. Harry didn’t know whether to be relieved or frustrated at this. He gave himself a mental shake. He would just have to steel himself and do this.
He noticed a sudden flash of red through a shop window and almost unconsciously began to move towards it. His hand was on the door leading into the shop when he realised just exactly where he was: outside Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. He drew back his hand. This would definitely not do. He forced himself to turn around and walk in the opposite direction, hoping that Ginny hadn’t seen him. If he were to talk to her now, he knew he’d lose his resolve.
He really hadn’t had much of a chance to talk to her today. When she’d left his flat in such a rush that morning, he’d been half asleep, leaving him with a vague recollection of a fleeting kiss and something murmured in his ear. He had no idea now what her words to him had been. By the time he’d fully awakened, she had already gone.
Harry wandered back up the street until he reached Florian Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour. The sight of the outdoor tables triggered a memory of coming here with Ginny not so long ago. He sat down at a table, thinking he would indeed be lucky if Mandy Brocklehurst would turn up today. Even though he was not really hungry, he ordered some ice cream and waited…
He took his time once his strawberry ice cream with nuts arrived, eating so slowly the ice cream had melted into an unappetising pink puddle before he was halfway through it. But then a shadow was cast across his table and a feminine voice broke in on his thoughts.
"Harry, dear, what a surprise!"
Harry looked up, groaning inwardly. Of all the witches that could have happened by, this was the last one he wanted to talk to. He schooled his features into what he hoped was a pleasant expression and gestured to the chair beside him.
"Please, have a seat, Mrs. Weasley," he said, hoping that whatever her business in Diagon Alley was, it was pressing.
"Why, thank you," she replied, taking a seat and setting several packages down on the pavement. "Lovely day, isn’t it?"
Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. Mrs. Weasley was obviously not in any sort of hurry and seemed determined to make small talk. He pushed his unfinished ice cream aside while he asked the older woman if she wanted anything.
"No, thank you, dear. I’m thankful for the chance to get off my feet, though. So tell me, how are things with you?"
Harry was rather stunned at the warm tone apparent in her voice. Not two weeks ago she had been giving him the cold shoulder, and now she was acting as if they were old friends. Part of him was aware that she would never create a scene in public, but another part of him acknowledged the fact that she had initiated this conversation. She could easily have passed him by on the street, and he would never have noticed. He thought she just might be extending an olive branch of sorts.
"Everything’s fine, thanks. And you?" He felt safer sticking to the social niceties. He thought of his reason for being here today and cringed inwardly. How would things look to Mrs. Weasley if she knew he’d moved out of Ginny’s house or, worse, if she saw him in Witch Weekly linked to someone else? It looked as if he’d have to abandon that plan for the moment.
"Fine, fine," came the reply. Then Mrs. Weasley fell silent. It seemed to Harry she had something else on her mind but was unsure how to bring it up. Finally she began again. "I’m relieved we had a chance to talk the other day. I think I understand things a bit better now. I owe you an apology for the way I treated you. I am sorry for that."
Harry was relieved at this unexpected statement. It looked as if Mrs. Weasley was making an effort to accept his relationship with Ginny. There was nothing for it but to accept her apology. He couldn’t think of any possible way to explain the most recent development to her adequately. At least not in public like this. He would just have to conveniently ignore it.
"I understand, Mrs. Weasley. I’m glad we had that talk, too. What do you say we just start fresh?"
He saw her nod, but then suddenly her expression seemed to change, and her brown eyes became overly bright. "Don’t hurt my girl, Harry. She’s loved you forever." There was an odd catch to her voice as she said this, causing Harry to suspect that she was talking about more than just Ginny. He recalled the conversation they’d had at the Burrow and thought he understood what underlay her words. By going away he had hurt Mrs. Weasley, and now Mrs. Weasley was trying to spare her daughter the same pain.
Harry opened his mouth to say something reassuring, but before he could utter a single word, a new voice interrupted him.
"Hello, Harry. I seem to run into you all the time here."
Harry looked up to see Mandy Brocklehurst standing beside their table. She was dressed as garishly as ever, and Harry felt mildly embarrassed for her. He cast a sidelong glance at Mrs. Weasley and noted the manner in which her lips had pressed themselves into a fine line. Damn. Why did Mandy Brocklehurst have to turn up now?
"Hello, Mandy," he replied in as neutral a tone as possible. "Do you know Mrs. Weasley?" He heard Molly sniff as he said this. "This is Mandy Brocklehurst. She was in Ron’s and my year at Hogwarts."
He saw both women look at each other with rather forced smiles. Neither one offered the other a hand. Harry resisted the temptation to slouch down in his seat. Things were definitely not going as planned.
The silence stretched out until it became uncomfortable. "Yes, well," Harry said at last. "I must be off now. Nice seeing you again, Mandy." He stood, and Mrs. Weasley rose as well.
"Yes, I must be off, too," said Mrs. Weasley, glancing at her watch. "Oh bother! I was going to drop by the joke shop to say hello, but it’s closed now." Harry could see the hand on her watch was pointing to "Too Late".
He set off in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron along with Mrs. Weasley, who was planning to Floo back to the Burrow with her purchases. They left a distinctly disappointed Mandy Brocklehurst behind them at the ice cream parlour. Before saying good-bye to Mrs. Weasley at the pub’s fireplace, Harry promised to come over to the Burrow sometime soon, so they could continue their conversation. They had made up some ground in patching up their differences, but there was still some way to go. Harry knew he needed to do this for Ginny’s sake.
Harry took his time once more returning to his flat. He still wasn’t particularly hungry, but he stopped off for some food on the way back as a means of killing time. He was not looking forward to spending the evening alone. He had done it often enough in the past, but this time was different. He now knew exactly what had been missing in his life. He’d only had a mere taste of it so far, but it wasn’t something he was willing to give up any time soon. He could only comfort himself with the thought that this was only a temporary situation, that he’d have Ginny back by his side eventually. But he also knew he would begrudge every moment they were forced to remain apart.
By the time Harry finally made it back to his flat, the shadows had lengthened into exaggerated forms on the ground. He unlocked the door and went into the sparsely furnished living room, not noticing at first the tapping sound at the window. The noise slowly invaded his mind, and he looked over to see an owl waiting for him. Harry felt a sense of foreboding. He never received owls at his flat, as so few people knew about it. How had this one, which he was fairly sure he’d never seen before, found him? Harry let it in and untied the parchment attached to its leg. The owl flew off again, as he unfolded the letter. Two objects fell out of it, but he ignored them for the moment, as he began to read.
He stared in disbelief at the parchment and read it a second time. It was no use; the words written there had not changed:
Do you know where your girlfriend is? If you want to see her alive again, you’d better find her fast. Activate the Portkey and tell no one else about this. If you don’t come fast enough, the next part of her we send might be less pleasant.
Harry looked down to see what had fallen from the parchment. On the floor at his feet were an old-fashioned key and an unmistakable lock of red hair. He picked up the lock of hair and closed his fist around it, as anger and despair warred within him. They’d taken her. He hadn’t figured this out quickly enough, and whoever was after him was using her as bait. Or perhaps they’d got her because he’d left her unprotected. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He just didn’t know anymore.
He forced himself to calm down and think things through. As terrified as he was for Ginny’s sake, it was pointless to beat himself up over the situation, even though he was beginning to suspect that he could have somehow avoided it. Ginny’s brothers were supposed to be watching over her. How had she come to be taken in spite of that? Hadn’t she been able to use her pager to summon help? He thought back to the previous evening. Only one pager had gone off, his. Had Ginny been without hers since yesterday? It seemed likely. He took his pager out of his pocket and considered it. Should he risk notifying Ron or the twins? He decided he couldn’t afford to take the chance with Ginny’s life. He would have to go alone and quickly. If he had the chance, he would send a signal to Ginny’s brothers once she was safely away from her captors. He put the pager back into his pocket.
He reached down and picked up the key with distaste. It was cold to the touch, and there was something malevolent in the way it glinted in the rays of the dying sun. As much as he despised Portkeys, he had to do this. He took out his wand and performed the spell which would activate it.
An instant later his feet left the ground, and he was lost in a whirl of colour. He slammed into the ground after a moment, the force of his landing causing him to stagger sideways. Righting himself, he found himself in some sort of clearing in some woods. He quickly saw that his arrival had been anticipated. At least five hooded figures advanced on him, wands at the ready.
Harry tightened his grip on his wand, which had remained in his hand when the Portkey had transported him here. "It’s me you want. Just release Ginny, and I’ll come quietly."
One of the hooded figures gave a harsh laugh at this. At the same time, another said almost casually, "Expelliarmus", and Harry’s wand flew out of his hand. A loud bang was heard as ropes erupted from the wand of a third figure, effectively binding Harry from shoulder to ankle. Then, in the instant before he began to topple over as a result of being bound, he heard a final voice say, "Stupefy", and he knew no more.
*
When Harry came to, he found himself still bound and lying on a rough wooden plank floor. It was fully dark, and he had no way of knowing what time of night it was, or even if it was still the same night. It was chilly on the floor, and he shivered. He tried raising his head to take stock of his surroundings, but his gaze stopped almost immediately on a small figure huddled in a heap a few feet away. It was Ginny; he was sure of it. There was a small amount of light coming in through a dirty window high in the wall, and he thought he could see the slightest glimmer of red amidst the monochromatic deep greys of the room. He felt a hot surge of anger at himself that he could be so easily tricked into handing himself over. For it was now obvious to him that whoever had taken them had no intention of letting Ginny go.
He raised his head a bit further to see if there was anyone else in the room. There didn’t seem to be at first glance, but it was difficult to tell in the dark. The shadows seemed to have congregated in the corners of the room, creating an even deeper blackness that Harry’s gaze could not penetrate. He decided to take his chances with anyone who might be watching, and slowly began to work his way across the floor towards Ginny, slithering like a snake. He stopped every foot or so, listening for the sound of any other movement in the room. There was none.
At length he had crept over beside Ginny. She was as still as stone on the floor. For a panicked moment he thought she might be dead, but then he saw to his relief the slight movement of her chest rising and falling. There was enough light for Harry to see that she was also bound, seemingly even more roughly than he had been. He noted lines around her mouth, showing where silencing ropes had cut into her soft skin. A sizeable chunk of hair seemed to be missing from one side of her head. Fresh anger surged through him at the thought of her being mistreated. He eased himself closer and nudged her.
"Ginny!" he hissed. "Wake up."
She did not respond. He nudged her a bit harder.
"Come on, Ginny. You’ve got to wake up."
She stirred this time, encouraging Harry to try again. At last her eyelids fluttered and opened.
"Harry," she breathed.
He wanted to put his arms around her, but his hands were bound behind him. He had to be content with working himself as close to her as possible. He managed a lingering kiss; then pulling back, he asked, "Are you hurt at all?"
She shook her head no.
"Can you tell me what happened? Do you know how long you’ve been here?"
"Since earlier today. I think it’s still the same day. The got me on my way home from work." Her voice had started out shaky, but it was steadily gaining strength.
"Who? Who got you? And why? What do you know?"
"The bastard who captured me is someone I’ve seen in the joke shop. He came in my first day there, and Fred introduced me. His name is Richard Bradley." She said the name with a great deal of distaste. Harry thought he heard her mutter some speculation as to whether he didn’t go by Dick, rather than Richard. "I recognise one other. She was in my year at Hogwarts. Simone Howard, a Slytherin." She spat this. "There are more, but I don’t know them. And I don’t know what they want."
"I’m sorry, Gin. I got an owl saying they’d let you go if I turned myself in. And I was stupid enough to believe them." Harry fell silent, and then spoke again. "Where are they now? Do you think anyone is listening?"
"I don’t know." She raised her head and looked around the darkened room. "I don’t think anyone is in here now, but they could come back at any time."
"How tightly are your hands bound? Can you move them at all?"
"A little. Why?"
Harry shifted around on the floor so that his hip was level with her hands. "Try and get the pager. It should be in my pocket."
He felt her fumble about for a few minutes until she managed to work her hand into his pocket. "Damn it, it’s empty," she said in a frustrated tone. "I think they must know about them. Bradley tried to Summon something when he caught me earlier, but nothing happened. But then, I didn’t have my pager on me. I’d forgotten it in my robe pocket when I changed my clothes."
Harry had no chance to reply to this, because footsteps could now be heard approaching outside the room. A moment later the door burst open to admit a rather imposing figure whose face could not be seen in the dark. Several more figures followed in the wake of the first, as it advanced into the room.
"Isn’t this cosy?" said a sneering female voice.
"Stupid cow," whispered Ginny, leaving Harry to surmise that this was Simone.
"You won’t be cosy for long," Simone continued. "It’s time to take you to my lord."
Harry felt himself being pulled roughly to his feet. Beside him, the same was being done to Ginny. Strong hands on either side of him held him still as Simone pointed her wand at him and unbound his legs. Harry attempted to break free of the restraining hands, but his struggles proved fruitless. As strong as he was, the hands that held him were stronger. Then he felt what was undoubtedly a wand tip being thrust into the small of his back, and he was prodded forward. To resist further was futile, and he grimly allowed himself to be led from the room.
They were taken outside and forcibly marched through the trees until they reached a small clearing. The moon was high enough to create a baleful light just strong enough to allow Harry to see other cloaked and hooded figures who were awaiting their arrival. He was pushed up against a tree on the edge of the clearing, and tied to the trunk. He could feel the tree’s rough bark biting mercilessly into his hands, which were still behind his back. He looked to his left and saw that Ginny had been made fast to the next tree. He met her gaze before turning his head to face forward once more. All the hooded figures had formed a semi-circle in the clearing, and now one of them broke ranks and came to stand in the middle. The figure lowered its hood, reminding Harry eerily of the Dementor in his third year. The moon glinted off pale hair and cast evil-looking shadows which exaggerated the pointed features of Lucius Malfoy.
"So glad you could join our little party," Malfoy said with a cruel smile. "You might even say you’re the guests of honour. Or at any rate, we couldn’t have the party without you."
Harry had been looking at the semi-circle of cloaks, looking for any possible means by which he might recognise Malfoy’s followers, but Malfoy’s words now echoed through his mind. They were strangely reminiscent of words that were spoken on another summer night several years previous, the night that Lord Voldemort himself had risen again. Harry was sure this was no coincidence. Lucius Malfoy had been present that night. Harry decided he was going to demand a few answers.
"Just what is this all about?" he cried, meeting the older man’s gaze. "What could you possibly want with us?"
"A very good question. It would be rude of me not to answer it. You see, since the Dark Lord’s defeat, I’ve been doing quite a bit of research. I had access to his personal papers, and I’ve done some digging on my own. I believe I’ve discovered a way to actually become the Dark Lord, or at least enough like him that it makes no difference. But in order to do that, I need a little help, and that is where you two come into the picture. You, Potter, still bear the mark the Dark Lord gave you as a child." Malfoy gestured towards Harry’s forehead at this. "It is widely enough known by now that the Dark Lord transferred some of his powers to you the night of his first defeat. It might even be said you carry some of his very essence in you because of that."
Lucius Malfoy paused and gave a hollow laugh. "But I know something the Dark Lord never learned of in time to take advantage of it. I can use that knowledge become more powerful than he ever was. The Dark Lord used your blood, Potter, to re-embody himself, but he didn’t know that he could have used your blood, as well as another’s to become even stronger." Here he looked at Ginny. "Yes, the Dark Lord didn’t know about your little episode with his diary. He didn’t know that he’d once possessed you and so left a part of himself behind in you. He didn’t know he’d forever marked you, even if that mark was invisible. I might have told him, but by the time he’d summoned me, it was too late. The magic had been performed, and the re-embodiment was complete."
"But you’ve already got a body," Harry interrupted. "You’re not planning on boiling yourself in a cauldron, are you?"
Lucius Malfoy’s eyes fairly bulged with anger. "Don’t be obtuse. I do not need to use the same spell the Dark Lord used to re-embody himself. I have found another spell after many years of research. One that will allow me to extract the Dark Lord’s essence from both of you and take his place. And by having the two of you available to me, I’ll be all the stronger. Perhaps I’ll even be invincible, who knows? But that won’t matter to either of you, since I doubt either one of you will survive the extraction." Ginny gasped at this, drawing Malfoy’s attention to her. "Don’t fret, my dear. I won’t kill you outright. I need you alive, at least at the start of the process."
Harry shivered, and he was fairly certain that the sensation of cold had nothing to do with fear. It was as if the temperature had suddenly dropped several degrees. He stole a glance over at Ginny and noted that her face wasn’t expressing terror, at least. If anything, she looked defiant.
"There’s just one small matter we need to clear up first," Malfoy continued. "These spells are never straightforward. In this case, we need to determine who the master is, and to do that we need to duel." He turned to one of his followers in the semi-circle. "Untie the girl and give her back her wand."
Harry was struck again by the similarity of the words. Malfoy only confirmed this when he looked straight back at Harry and said, "It’s just like a stroll down memory lane, isn’t it?"
Harry struggled uselessly against his bonds, as Malfoy’s follower moved to do his master’s bidding. Harry thought it might have been Crabbe or Goyle based on the figure’s hulking size, but the face was masked in the shadow of a hood. Another wave of cold passed through Harry like a knife, and he suddenly sensed a presence behind him. That was impossible, he thought, the tree was behind him. His hands were slowly going numb from the pressure of the bark biting into them. He was sure he was going to have trouble keeping a grip on his wand when his turn came to duel. What was going on? His attention was divided now between trying to work out who could be behind him and watching Ginny being led to face Malfoy.
"Don’t make any sign you hear me."
Harry started as a familiar voice seemed to come to him from inside the tree. He kept his eyes trained on Ginny.
"I think you may need this," drawled the voice again, and Harry felt a small object being pushed into his hands. He shuddered, as his hand suddenly felt like it was being plunged into ice at the ghostly contact.
"What are you doing, Malfoy?" Harry asked through clenched teeth.
"Doing my best to make sure Lucius doesn’t get what he wants," came Draco’s reply. "You’d better use that."
Harry wanted to ask Draco how he even knew the pager might be of help, but there was no time now. Ginny and Lucius Malfoy had already bowed to each other and were facing off. Harry jumped as he saw Ginny dodge a curse. He pushed the button on the pager.
There was a sudden shout, as both Ginny and Lucius Malfoy shot simultaneous spells at each other. Then there was a collective gasp from the onlooking crowd, as the light from the embattled wands met and connected…
Harry immediately sensed what was happening, but his mind refused to credit it. Yet he could see both wands vibrating in the hands that held them, and he could see the light which connected the wands begin to change. But instead of turning golden, it began to flame. The flames shot into the air and came down in a circle around them.
"GINNY!" he shouted, not knowing if she could hear him. "DON’T BREAK THE CONNECTION!"
Somehow his mind registered the sound of popping in the trees nearby, but he ignored that for now. He kept his thought concentrated on Ginny, whom he could no longer see. She was engulfed in a curtain of flame.
Next Chapter
Summary: A post-Hogwarts H/G fic. Strange circumstances draw Harry and Ginny closer together. But are they in danger? Romance, adventure, Monty Python, and tartan boxer shorts abound.
Harry left Leicester Square tube stop and made his way along Charing Cross Road, heading towards the Leaky Cauldron. He’d used Muggle transportation once again, since he was determined to take his time about reaching Diagon Alley. While he was sure what he was about to do was for the best, he was still torn in his mind. He was certain now that Ginny would understand, but it still felt to him like a betrayal. He cursed the circumstances that had forced him into this decision.
He entered Diagon Alley and began to amble down the crowded street, taking his time. Normally, he would have hunched his shoulders and walked quickly, keeping his gaze to the ground to avoid making eye contact with anyone. Today his goal was just the opposite: he wanted to attract attention, female attention, and if he was lucky there would be a Witch Weekly photographer handy.
He forced a smile to his face as he crossed glances with several witches in passing. He noted absently the way in which they stared back, but none of them stopped to talk. Harry didn’t know whether to be relieved or frustrated at this. He gave himself a mental shake. He would just have to steel himself and do this.
He noticed a sudden flash of red through a shop window and almost unconsciously began to move towards it. His hand was on the door leading into the shop when he realised just exactly where he was: outside Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. He drew back his hand. This would definitely not do. He forced himself to turn around and walk in the opposite direction, hoping that Ginny hadn’t seen him. If he were to talk to her now, he knew he’d lose his resolve.
He really hadn’t had much of a chance to talk to her today. When she’d left his flat in such a rush that morning, he’d been half asleep, leaving him with a vague recollection of a fleeting kiss and something murmured in his ear. He had no idea now what her words to him had been. By the time he’d fully awakened, she had already gone.
Harry wandered back up the street until he reached Florian Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour. The sight of the outdoor tables triggered a memory of coming here with Ginny not so long ago. He sat down at a table, thinking he would indeed be lucky if Mandy Brocklehurst would turn up today. Even though he was not really hungry, he ordered some ice cream and waited…
He took his time once his strawberry ice cream with nuts arrived, eating so slowly the ice cream had melted into an unappetising pink puddle before he was halfway through it. But then a shadow was cast across his table and a feminine voice broke in on his thoughts.
"Harry, dear, what a surprise!"
Harry looked up, groaning inwardly. Of all the witches that could have happened by, this was the last one he wanted to talk to. He schooled his features into what he hoped was a pleasant expression and gestured to the chair beside him.
"Please, have a seat, Mrs. Weasley," he said, hoping that whatever her business in Diagon Alley was, it was pressing.
"Why, thank you," she replied, taking a seat and setting several packages down on the pavement. "Lovely day, isn’t it?"
Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. Mrs. Weasley was obviously not in any sort of hurry and seemed determined to make small talk. He pushed his unfinished ice cream aside while he asked the older woman if she wanted anything.
"No, thank you, dear. I’m thankful for the chance to get off my feet, though. So tell me, how are things with you?"
Harry was rather stunned at the warm tone apparent in her voice. Not two weeks ago she had been giving him the cold shoulder, and now she was acting as if they were old friends. Part of him was aware that she would never create a scene in public, but another part of him acknowledged the fact that she had initiated this conversation. She could easily have passed him by on the street, and he would never have noticed. He thought she just might be extending an olive branch of sorts.
"Everything’s fine, thanks. And you?" He felt safer sticking to the social niceties. He thought of his reason for being here today and cringed inwardly. How would things look to Mrs. Weasley if she knew he’d moved out of Ginny’s house or, worse, if she saw him in Witch Weekly linked to someone else? It looked as if he’d have to abandon that plan for the moment.
"Fine, fine," came the reply. Then Mrs. Weasley fell silent. It seemed to Harry she had something else on her mind but was unsure how to bring it up. Finally she began again. "I’m relieved we had a chance to talk the other day. I think I understand things a bit better now. I owe you an apology for the way I treated you. I am sorry for that."
Harry was relieved at this unexpected statement. It looked as if Mrs. Weasley was making an effort to accept his relationship with Ginny. There was nothing for it but to accept her apology. He couldn’t think of any possible way to explain the most recent development to her adequately. At least not in public like this. He would just have to conveniently ignore it.
"I understand, Mrs. Weasley. I’m glad we had that talk, too. What do you say we just start fresh?"
He saw her nod, but then suddenly her expression seemed to change, and her brown eyes became overly bright. "Don’t hurt my girl, Harry. She’s loved you forever." There was an odd catch to her voice as she said this, causing Harry to suspect that she was talking about more than just Ginny. He recalled the conversation they’d had at the Burrow and thought he understood what underlay her words. By going away he had hurt Mrs. Weasley, and now Mrs. Weasley was trying to spare her daughter the same pain.
Harry opened his mouth to say something reassuring, but before he could utter a single word, a new voice interrupted him.
"Hello, Harry. I seem to run into you all the time here."
Harry looked up to see Mandy Brocklehurst standing beside their table. She was dressed as garishly as ever, and Harry felt mildly embarrassed for her. He cast a sidelong glance at Mrs. Weasley and noted the manner in which her lips had pressed themselves into a fine line. Damn. Why did Mandy Brocklehurst have to turn up now?
"Hello, Mandy," he replied in as neutral a tone as possible. "Do you know Mrs. Weasley?" He heard Molly sniff as he said this. "This is Mandy Brocklehurst. She was in Ron’s and my year at Hogwarts."
He saw both women look at each other with rather forced smiles. Neither one offered the other a hand. Harry resisted the temptation to slouch down in his seat. Things were definitely not going as planned.
The silence stretched out until it became uncomfortable. "Yes, well," Harry said at last. "I must be off now. Nice seeing you again, Mandy." He stood, and Mrs. Weasley rose as well.
"Yes, I must be off, too," said Mrs. Weasley, glancing at her watch. "Oh bother! I was going to drop by the joke shop to say hello, but it’s closed now." Harry could see the hand on her watch was pointing to "Too Late".
He set off in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron along with Mrs. Weasley, who was planning to Floo back to the Burrow with her purchases. They left a distinctly disappointed Mandy Brocklehurst behind them at the ice cream parlour. Before saying good-bye to Mrs. Weasley at the pub’s fireplace, Harry promised to come over to the Burrow sometime soon, so they could continue their conversation. They had made up some ground in patching up their differences, but there was still some way to go. Harry knew he needed to do this for Ginny’s sake.
Harry took his time once more returning to his flat. He still wasn’t particularly hungry, but he stopped off for some food on the way back as a means of killing time. He was not looking forward to spending the evening alone. He had done it often enough in the past, but this time was different. He now knew exactly what had been missing in his life. He’d only had a mere taste of it so far, but it wasn’t something he was willing to give up any time soon. He could only comfort himself with the thought that this was only a temporary situation, that he’d have Ginny back by his side eventually. But he also knew he would begrudge every moment they were forced to remain apart.
By the time Harry finally made it back to his flat, the shadows had lengthened into exaggerated forms on the ground. He unlocked the door and went into the sparsely furnished living room, not noticing at first the tapping sound at the window. The noise slowly invaded his mind, and he looked over to see an owl waiting for him. Harry felt a sense of foreboding. He never received owls at his flat, as so few people knew about it. How had this one, which he was fairly sure he’d never seen before, found him? Harry let it in and untied the parchment attached to its leg. The owl flew off again, as he unfolded the letter. Two objects fell out of it, but he ignored them for the moment, as he began to read.
He stared in disbelief at the parchment and read it a second time. It was no use; the words written there had not changed:
Do you know where your girlfriend is? If you want to see her alive again, you’d better find her fast. Activate the Portkey and tell no one else about this. If you don’t come fast enough, the next part of her we send might be less pleasant.
Harry looked down to see what had fallen from the parchment. On the floor at his feet were an old-fashioned key and an unmistakable lock of red hair. He picked up the lock of hair and closed his fist around it, as anger and despair warred within him. They’d taken her. He hadn’t figured this out quickly enough, and whoever was after him was using her as bait. Or perhaps they’d got her because he’d left her unprotected. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He just didn’t know anymore.
He forced himself to calm down and think things through. As terrified as he was for Ginny’s sake, it was pointless to beat himself up over the situation, even though he was beginning to suspect that he could have somehow avoided it. Ginny’s brothers were supposed to be watching over her. How had she come to be taken in spite of that? Hadn’t she been able to use her pager to summon help? He thought back to the previous evening. Only one pager had gone off, his. Had Ginny been without hers since yesterday? It seemed likely. He took his pager out of his pocket and considered it. Should he risk notifying Ron or the twins? He decided he couldn’t afford to take the chance with Ginny’s life. He would have to go alone and quickly. If he had the chance, he would send a signal to Ginny’s brothers once she was safely away from her captors. He put the pager back into his pocket.
He reached down and picked up the key with distaste. It was cold to the touch, and there was something malevolent in the way it glinted in the rays of the dying sun. As much as he despised Portkeys, he had to do this. He took out his wand and performed the spell which would activate it.
An instant later his feet left the ground, and he was lost in a whirl of colour. He slammed into the ground after a moment, the force of his landing causing him to stagger sideways. Righting himself, he found himself in some sort of clearing in some woods. He quickly saw that his arrival had been anticipated. At least five hooded figures advanced on him, wands at the ready.
Harry tightened his grip on his wand, which had remained in his hand when the Portkey had transported him here. "It’s me you want. Just release Ginny, and I’ll come quietly."
One of the hooded figures gave a harsh laugh at this. At the same time, another said almost casually, "Expelliarmus", and Harry’s wand flew out of his hand. A loud bang was heard as ropes erupted from the wand of a third figure, effectively binding Harry from shoulder to ankle. Then, in the instant before he began to topple over as a result of being bound, he heard a final voice say, "Stupefy", and he knew no more.
*
When Harry came to, he found himself still bound and lying on a rough wooden plank floor. It was fully dark, and he had no way of knowing what time of night it was, or even if it was still the same night. It was chilly on the floor, and he shivered. He tried raising his head to take stock of his surroundings, but his gaze stopped almost immediately on a small figure huddled in a heap a few feet away. It was Ginny; he was sure of it. There was a small amount of light coming in through a dirty window high in the wall, and he thought he could see the slightest glimmer of red amidst the monochromatic deep greys of the room. He felt a hot surge of anger at himself that he could be so easily tricked into handing himself over. For it was now obvious to him that whoever had taken them had no intention of letting Ginny go.
He raised his head a bit further to see if there was anyone else in the room. There didn’t seem to be at first glance, but it was difficult to tell in the dark. The shadows seemed to have congregated in the corners of the room, creating an even deeper blackness that Harry’s gaze could not penetrate. He decided to take his chances with anyone who might be watching, and slowly began to work his way across the floor towards Ginny, slithering like a snake. He stopped every foot or so, listening for the sound of any other movement in the room. There was none.
At length he had crept over beside Ginny. She was as still as stone on the floor. For a panicked moment he thought she might be dead, but then he saw to his relief the slight movement of her chest rising and falling. There was enough light for Harry to see that she was also bound, seemingly even more roughly than he had been. He noted lines around her mouth, showing where silencing ropes had cut into her soft skin. A sizeable chunk of hair seemed to be missing from one side of her head. Fresh anger surged through him at the thought of her being mistreated. He eased himself closer and nudged her.
"Ginny!" he hissed. "Wake up."
She did not respond. He nudged her a bit harder.
"Come on, Ginny. You’ve got to wake up."
She stirred this time, encouraging Harry to try again. At last her eyelids fluttered and opened.
"Harry," she breathed.
He wanted to put his arms around her, but his hands were bound behind him. He had to be content with working himself as close to her as possible. He managed a lingering kiss; then pulling back, he asked, "Are you hurt at all?"
She shook her head no.
"Can you tell me what happened? Do you know how long you’ve been here?"
"Since earlier today. I think it’s still the same day. The got me on my way home from work." Her voice had started out shaky, but it was steadily gaining strength.
"Who? Who got you? And why? What do you know?"
"The bastard who captured me is someone I’ve seen in the joke shop. He came in my first day there, and Fred introduced me. His name is Richard Bradley." She said the name with a great deal of distaste. Harry thought he heard her mutter some speculation as to whether he didn’t go by Dick, rather than Richard. "I recognise one other. She was in my year at Hogwarts. Simone Howard, a Slytherin." She spat this. "There are more, but I don’t know them. And I don’t know what they want."
"I’m sorry, Gin. I got an owl saying they’d let you go if I turned myself in. And I was stupid enough to believe them." Harry fell silent, and then spoke again. "Where are they now? Do you think anyone is listening?"
"I don’t know." She raised her head and looked around the darkened room. "I don’t think anyone is in here now, but they could come back at any time."
"How tightly are your hands bound? Can you move them at all?"
"A little. Why?"
Harry shifted around on the floor so that his hip was level with her hands. "Try and get the pager. It should be in my pocket."
He felt her fumble about for a few minutes until she managed to work her hand into his pocket. "Damn it, it’s empty," she said in a frustrated tone. "I think they must know about them. Bradley tried to Summon something when he caught me earlier, but nothing happened. But then, I didn’t have my pager on me. I’d forgotten it in my robe pocket when I changed my clothes."
Harry had no chance to reply to this, because footsteps could now be heard approaching outside the room. A moment later the door burst open to admit a rather imposing figure whose face could not be seen in the dark. Several more figures followed in the wake of the first, as it advanced into the room.
"Isn’t this cosy?" said a sneering female voice.
"Stupid cow," whispered Ginny, leaving Harry to surmise that this was Simone.
"You won’t be cosy for long," Simone continued. "It’s time to take you to my lord."
Harry felt himself being pulled roughly to his feet. Beside him, the same was being done to Ginny. Strong hands on either side of him held him still as Simone pointed her wand at him and unbound his legs. Harry attempted to break free of the restraining hands, but his struggles proved fruitless. As strong as he was, the hands that held him were stronger. Then he felt what was undoubtedly a wand tip being thrust into the small of his back, and he was prodded forward. To resist further was futile, and he grimly allowed himself to be led from the room.
They were taken outside and forcibly marched through the trees until they reached a small clearing. The moon was high enough to create a baleful light just strong enough to allow Harry to see other cloaked and hooded figures who were awaiting their arrival. He was pushed up against a tree on the edge of the clearing, and tied to the trunk. He could feel the tree’s rough bark biting mercilessly into his hands, which were still behind his back. He looked to his left and saw that Ginny had been made fast to the next tree. He met her gaze before turning his head to face forward once more. All the hooded figures had formed a semi-circle in the clearing, and now one of them broke ranks and came to stand in the middle. The figure lowered its hood, reminding Harry eerily of the Dementor in his third year. The moon glinted off pale hair and cast evil-looking shadows which exaggerated the pointed features of Lucius Malfoy.
"So glad you could join our little party," Malfoy said with a cruel smile. "You might even say you’re the guests of honour. Or at any rate, we couldn’t have the party without you."
Harry had been looking at the semi-circle of cloaks, looking for any possible means by which he might recognise Malfoy’s followers, but Malfoy’s words now echoed through his mind. They were strangely reminiscent of words that were spoken on another summer night several years previous, the night that Lord Voldemort himself had risen again. Harry was sure this was no coincidence. Lucius Malfoy had been present that night. Harry decided he was going to demand a few answers.
"Just what is this all about?" he cried, meeting the older man’s gaze. "What could you possibly want with us?"
"A very good question. It would be rude of me not to answer it. You see, since the Dark Lord’s defeat, I’ve been doing quite a bit of research. I had access to his personal papers, and I’ve done some digging on my own. I believe I’ve discovered a way to actually become the Dark Lord, or at least enough like him that it makes no difference. But in order to do that, I need a little help, and that is where you two come into the picture. You, Potter, still bear the mark the Dark Lord gave you as a child." Malfoy gestured towards Harry’s forehead at this. "It is widely enough known by now that the Dark Lord transferred some of his powers to you the night of his first defeat. It might even be said you carry some of his very essence in you because of that."
Lucius Malfoy paused and gave a hollow laugh. "But I know something the Dark Lord never learned of in time to take advantage of it. I can use that knowledge become more powerful than he ever was. The Dark Lord used your blood, Potter, to re-embody himself, but he didn’t know that he could have used your blood, as well as another’s to become even stronger." Here he looked at Ginny. "Yes, the Dark Lord didn’t know about your little episode with his diary. He didn’t know that he’d once possessed you and so left a part of himself behind in you. He didn’t know he’d forever marked you, even if that mark was invisible. I might have told him, but by the time he’d summoned me, it was too late. The magic had been performed, and the re-embodiment was complete."
"But you’ve already got a body," Harry interrupted. "You’re not planning on boiling yourself in a cauldron, are you?"
Lucius Malfoy’s eyes fairly bulged with anger. "Don’t be obtuse. I do not need to use the same spell the Dark Lord used to re-embody himself. I have found another spell after many years of research. One that will allow me to extract the Dark Lord’s essence from both of you and take his place. And by having the two of you available to me, I’ll be all the stronger. Perhaps I’ll even be invincible, who knows? But that won’t matter to either of you, since I doubt either one of you will survive the extraction." Ginny gasped at this, drawing Malfoy’s attention to her. "Don’t fret, my dear. I won’t kill you outright. I need you alive, at least at the start of the process."
Harry shivered, and he was fairly certain that the sensation of cold had nothing to do with fear. It was as if the temperature had suddenly dropped several degrees. He stole a glance over at Ginny and noted that her face wasn’t expressing terror, at least. If anything, she looked defiant.
"There’s just one small matter we need to clear up first," Malfoy continued. "These spells are never straightforward. In this case, we need to determine who the master is, and to do that we need to duel." He turned to one of his followers in the semi-circle. "Untie the girl and give her back her wand."
Harry was struck again by the similarity of the words. Malfoy only confirmed this when he looked straight back at Harry and said, "It’s just like a stroll down memory lane, isn’t it?"
Harry struggled uselessly against his bonds, as Malfoy’s follower moved to do his master’s bidding. Harry thought it might have been Crabbe or Goyle based on the figure’s hulking size, but the face was masked in the shadow of a hood. Another wave of cold passed through Harry like a knife, and he suddenly sensed a presence behind him. That was impossible, he thought, the tree was behind him. His hands were slowly going numb from the pressure of the bark biting into them. He was sure he was going to have trouble keeping a grip on his wand when his turn came to duel. What was going on? His attention was divided now between trying to work out who could be behind him and watching Ginny being led to face Malfoy.
"Don’t make any sign you hear me."
Harry started as a familiar voice seemed to come to him from inside the tree. He kept his eyes trained on Ginny.
"I think you may need this," drawled the voice again, and Harry felt a small object being pushed into his hands. He shuddered, as his hand suddenly felt like it was being plunged into ice at the ghostly contact.
"What are you doing, Malfoy?" Harry asked through clenched teeth.
"Doing my best to make sure Lucius doesn’t get what he wants," came Draco’s reply. "You’d better use that."
Harry wanted to ask Draco how he even knew the pager might be of help, but there was no time now. Ginny and Lucius Malfoy had already bowed to each other and were facing off. Harry jumped as he saw Ginny dodge a curse. He pushed the button on the pager.
There was a sudden shout, as both Ginny and Lucius Malfoy shot simultaneous spells at each other. Then there was a collective gasp from the onlooking crowd, as the light from the embattled wands met and connected…
Harry immediately sensed what was happening, but his mind refused to credit it. Yet he could see both wands vibrating in the hands that held them, and he could see the light which connected the wands begin to change. But instead of turning golden, it began to flame. The flames shot into the air and came down in a circle around them.
"GINNY!" he shouted, not knowing if she could hear him. "DON’T BREAK THE CONNECTION!"
Somehow his mind registered the sound of popping in the trees nearby, but he ignored that for now. He kept his thought concentrated on Ginny, whom he could no longer see. She was engulfed in a curtain of flame.
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