Chapter 32 — Love Lost
Even up here she could hear the sounds of men and women shouting, their expensive dragonhide boots beating against the floors below her. If Naomi didn’t find him soon, she knew, those men would start searching the guest rooms, and there she would be, captured again.
She still couldn’t quite fathom that she was free. It had happened so quickly, when that Death Eater apparently turned traitor came to rescue Ginny. The man’s eyes had gleamed at Naomi suspiciously behind the mask, but Ginny assured him that she was all right.
“You’re sure?” he asked, and Naomi realized from his voice that he wasn’t a man at all, but a boy not much older than Ginny. “If she screws this up, Malfoy’s going to have my arse.”
Ginny’s eyes widened dramatically. “Nott?”
“Intelligent, Weasley. Please, feel free to blurt out some more potentially harmful information. It’s not as if my life is on the line here or anything.”
The young redhead had flushed and set her jaw. “What are you doing here?”
His eyes rolled within the mask. “What does it look like? I’m saving your arse yet again, my darling Weasley. Now shut up and listen close, because we don’t have much time before your boyfriend gets a nasty scar on his arm. And you know how obsessed he is about staying pretty.”
After that Ginny did as she was told, staying silent and attentive as Nott explained everything. She was supposed to remember some maps that Lucius’s boy — apparently the one that had landed the girl in a cell with Naomi to begin with — drew in some shack or another. Using them as her guide, she was to run outside as fast as possible, find the Order waiting for her, and apparate back to headquarters.
“But Snape has wards,” Naomi had protested. “He’s the only one who can disapparate from the property. Or apparate in, for that matter.”
The boy Nott cast an annoyed look in her direction. “Why do you think Malfoy’s up there going through a fake ceremony? Snape had to lower the wards so the other Death Eaters could come and go.”
Nott turned then and started jogging away.
“Where are you going?” Ginny called.
“I’ve got a ceremony to break up,” he threw back over his shoulder, and then he was gone.
Ginny blinked, clearly stunned, then jumped to her feet. “Come on.” But when they got to the main floor, Naomi didn’t follow Ginny towards the exit. The girl noticed and stopped. “Aren’t you coming?”
Naomi shook her head. “I have something to take care of. You go, I’ll…catch up.”
Ginny had hesitated for half a beat, then with a shrug took off at a sprint.
All of that felt like ages ago, though, and Naomi was no closer to finding Ben. Snape told her he was in a guest room, but how many guest rooms did the place have? What if she wasn’t even on the right floor? What if she was in the wrong wing of the bloody estate?
She banged open the door to another room, more concerned with speed than stealth at this point, but it lay empty under a fine layer of dust. She whirled and started towards the next one. Then the sound of boots thumping up the stairs behind her made her freeze in her tracks, heart pounding. Acting purely on instinct, she slipped inside the next door to her right and locked it, her heart still too loud in her ears.
“Mummy?”
Naomi stopped breathing. Could it…? She spun and only just remembered to stifle her cry of relief when she saw Ben sitting in a huge bed that seemed to swallow up his tiny body.
“Mummy!” He vaulted off the bed only to trip and fall when his foot got tangled in the sheet. But he bounced back up again and kept coming, slamming into her waiting arms.
“Shh, shh,” she whispered against his hear, crying silent tears as she hugged him closer. “We have to be quiet now, okay baby? There’s bad men outside.”
He pushed away to see her face and nodded. “Okay, Mummy,” he agreed in a stage whisper.
Naomi smiled, biting her lip to hold back more tears. “Oh, sweetie, I’m so glad you’re okay,” she told him, barely audible. “Did that man hurt you?”
Ben shook his head, and Naomi pulled him tight against her again. She never wanted to move from this spot, never wanted to let him go again, but she knew she needed to get them out soon. So propping him on her hip, she stood up and walked to the door, pressing her ear against it. She didn’t hear anything. Heart thudding in her chest, she adjusted Ben so that she held him with one arm, still sitting on her hip, and raised a finger to her lips with her free hand.
Ben pressed a pudgy little finger to his lips as well to show that he understood. Naomi smiled and leaned forward to kiss that miniature finger before taking a deep breath and opening the door. She almost sobbed with relief when she found the hallway empty.
Then, making sure she held Ben tight and secure, she ran. Naomi remembered the way well enough from when Snape first brought her here, and by now the search seemed to have migrated to other parts of the estate. She only encountered a Death Eater once, and luckily a supply closet was to her left for her to hide in until he passed.
Ben’s head swiveled all around as she ran, her breathing a little raspy from having to carry his added weight, but he seemed to understand that this wasn’t just a game and stayed blessedly quiet. It was probably the first time in the boy’s whole life that he managed that, and she determined to give him a hundred chocolate frogs in reward as soon as they were safe.
Breaking out of the last door and into the crisp, windy day felt like flying. She closed her eyes and smiled, opening them again to find Ben studying her curiously. He showed her a wide grin when he saw her looking back, and she giggled quietly, pinching his nose. He squealed a little at the indignity, then quickly sucked in his lips when Naomi raised a cautionary finger to her mouth, reminding him to stay quiet.
Naomi looked away, and as she started thinking about where she should take them, something terrible occurred to her. She never got her wand back. Her stomach turned over, a sharp pain blooming behind her eyes. She could not just disapparate like Ginny planned on doing, and she couldn’t hope to sneak back into the estate and somehow find it in that labyrinth of rooms, especially not when it was still crawling with Death Eaters.
She swore violently under her breath, immediately guilty when she glanced down at Ben’s wide-eyed expression. She quickly brushed a kiss on his forehead to reassure him, then not knowing what else to do, started taking long strides over the grounds. She was going to have to try to walk out.
She stopped after five paces. Unless…. Snape must have a broom shed around the house somewhere. What kind of estate lacked something that basic? If she could nick a broom, she doubled her and Ben’s chances of escape.
Turning a sharp about-face, she started back towards Snape Estate. Ben was growing heavy in her arms, so she paused long enough to switch him to the other hip, then kept going. She still marveled at how well-behaved he was being. He usually had far too much energy to be still and quiet so long. Had this experience changed him so much, or was he just old enough to understand the gravity of the situation? She prayed for the latter.
When she reached the house, close enough that someone looking out the window wouldn’t see her unless he leaned way out and looked directly down, she started simply walking along the walls. If she walked the perimeter she was sure to stumble on the broom shed eventually. If Snape had one.
She hadn’t been walking too long when she turned a corner and saw something in her path up ahead. Giving Ben a little nudge back to her hip from where he’d started slipping, she squinted at the black pile, edging forward slowly. She felt a sick lurch in her stomach when she realized the “pile” was actually a person, body broken beneath the robes. She closed her eyes to fight down nausea, then bit her lip, debating what to do. Finally she knelt down, setting Ben on his feet.
“Mummy’s going to pop just over there, only for a minute, all right? I want you to stay right here, though, Ben. Do you understand? Don’t follow me. Yeah?”
Ben bobbed his head, lifting up his hand to suck on the sleeve of his shirt. He did that when he was scared, and guilt filled Naomi at seeing it.
“I’ll be right back, but if anyone comes and I’m not looking, stay very quiet unless the person sees you. If that happens, scream, all right Ben?”
He nodded again, sucking harder at the cloth of his shirt. Naomi forced a shaky smile for his benefit and leaned down to give him a quick kiss. Then she turned around, and taking a steadying breath, jogged over to the body.
It was a Death Eater, that much was apparent from the midnight robes and silver mask glinting in the sunlight. She prodded the shape with her toe but got no response, and from the distorted outline beneath the robes, it looked as if the person’s skeleton got slightly rearranged. She tasted bile at the back of her throat but tried to console herself by thinking that whoever it was, the person probably deserved it. He — or she — had been a Death Eater, after all.
She was about to go back for Ben and plug ahead, just telling him to close his eyes as she skirted the body, but a polished gleam in the grass caught her eye. Curious, she walked over and crouched down, finding herself looking at a wand, long and slender and pale chestnut-colored wood. The pain behind her eyes exploded into a throbbing pulse, her whole world going out of focus for a second. She knew that wand.
She glanced again at the body and shook her head slowly. No, no, it couldn’t be. It couldn’t, not him. He was too smart, too quick. She knew in her heart that she was wrong, that she was just jumping to conclusions. But she had to be sure.
Crawling over to the body, she carefully nudged it over onto its back. It gave a few sickening cracks and pops when she did, and Naomi had to lean to the side, clutching at her stomach as she dry heaved and coughed. She closed her eyes, exhaled slowly, then reached over and pulled back the mask.
Jonathon Pierce’s face stared back, eyes open and unseeing. He looked incredulous, as if he couldn’t quite believe he was dead either.
Naomi choked on a sob, then two, then stopped trying to hold them back. She leaned over his broken body, pressing her head into his chest as convulsive tears wracked her, his mask clutched in one hand and his wand in the other.
She suddenly sat up and threw the mask on his chest. “Damn you, Jon! I hate you, do you hear me?! I won’t ever forgive you for this! I hate you!” Then she broke down again, rocking back and forth with her head in her hands, the wand pressed against the side of her face. “You were the one,” she whispered. “Why did you have to keep coming back to this? We could have been happy. You were supposed to be the one.”
She felt a light touch on her arm and let out a startled gasp.
“Mummy?” Ben’s voice was small and scared. “Are you okay?”
She let out a sound half-sob and half-laugh, snatching him close to her breast and rocking back and forth, lips pressed to the top of his head. Then forcing herself under some semblance of control, she held him back far enough that she could look him seriously in the eye. “I love you, Ben. You know that, right? You know I love you so much?”
He started sucking on his sleeve again, nodding once. “I love you too,” he told her, voice muffled around the cloth.
Naomi breathed in deeply and took one last lingering look at Jon. She reached out and carefully closed his eyes.
“What’s wrong with him?” Ben asked, clearly frightened. “Who is it?”
“It’s an old friend of Mummy’s,” she told him, voice raw and hoarse. “He’s…he’s just resting.” Naomi turned Ben away from the sight, swallowing hard. She had to be strong now, for Ben. There would be plenty of time for grieving later…and now she had a wand.
She climbed to her feet and was just bending down to pick up Ben when a familiar, cold voice made her freeze.
“I see you’ve found him.”
Naomi slowly straightened up and turned to face Severus Snape. He looked like he always did — pinched and irritated at everything around him — but a certain grief seemed hidden in the depths of his black eyes. Naomi took a wary step backwards, eyes narrowing. She pointed at Jon’s corpse. “Did you do this?”
He gave her a contemptuous look. “Don’t be ridiculous, Lawson. Jon was…a friend. I risked everything for him.”
Naomi nudged Ben behind her legs, never taking her eyes off Snape. “You told you weren’t his friend. Or at least that he couldn’t trust you. He told me once.”
Snape sighed. “For his benefit. He was always too cocky for this game. Too assured in his abilities. I didn’t think he would last if he kept it up.” Snape’s lips pressed into a thin line as he stared down at the misshapen body. “It would seem I was right.” He shook his head. He seemed like he was talking to himself when he added, “I knew Draco would never give in so easily. I told him….”
Naomi could feel a pulse in her ears, pounding away in counterpoint to the throbbing in her head. “What do you want, Snape?”
He raised his eyes back to her. He glanced once at Ben, who was peeking around her legs, but Naomi shoved him back behind her. “I found him earlier,” Snape explained. “I went to get some men to help me move him. They’ll be here in a few minutes.”
Naomi felt her stomach flutter. “More men are coming?” She might have been able to fend off Snape, even with using Jon’s pilfered wand instead of her own, but a whole group of them…?
Snape sighed. “Just go, Lawson. Take your son, and go. The wards are still down.”
She stared, positive she’d heard wrong. “What? You’re…letting me go?”
“Are you deaf? Yes. You’re of no worth to me now that Jon….” Snape sent a fresh glare her way. “Just get out of my sight.”
Naomi knew she should do just that before he changed his mind, and she would never understand what madness made her ask, “What about you? What will you do now?” Something told her he would not go back to the way things were now that Jon had passed.
An expression like rage flitted across Snape’s face, but then it was gone, and he was left looking very, very weary. “Will I go back to being a Death Eater, is that what you’re asking?” Snape gazed down at Jon. “Probably not. I was like Jon, just in it for the power, the respect. But I’m too old. None of it matters.”
“The Order?” Naomi asked quietly.
He barked a laugh. “I can stomach this lot much easier than I ever could that bunch of self-righteous pillocks. No, I’ll go hide away someplace until one of ‘em wins, and then I’ll just say I was on their side all along.” He showed her a yellow smile. “Or else they’ll kill each other off and I won’t have to bother.”
Naomi bit her lip. She’d hated this man with every fiber of her being not two minutes ago, but now she wasn’t so sure. She felt an odd union with him, as if their grief for Jon had bound them in some way. And after all, he’d only been looking out for his friend in taking her captive. She might’ve done the same, and he always treated her well, and Ben looked healthy as ever. Hell, she should probably thank him for getting them both away from Lucius. She couldn’t help but think that he didn’t have to go back for Ben. He just had.
“So that’s that, then,” she said quietly.
Snape sneered. “Don’t feel sorry for me. I can see it in your eyes. I may not be Lucius, but I’m not Jon either. If those men walk around the corner and you’re still here, I won’t hesitate to let them do what they want with you, and little Benjamin can watch.”
Naomi didn’t let the threat anger her, even though she knew he was telling the truth. His apathy was his shield. If he wanted to keep hiding behind it his whole life, that was his prerogative. “In that case, good luck, Severus.”
“Get out of my sight,” he growled.
This time Naomi listened. She hoisted Ben up onto her hip, warning him, “Hold on tight. This is going to feel a little funny.” Her son buried his head in her shoulder and clung tight.
Naomi raised Jon’s wand, and as she closed her eyes to envision where they would go, one place jumped immediately into her mind, and Naomi grabbed hold of the image without hesitation. Then she left Snape, Jon, and the whole mess behind her with a soft pop.
- - - - -
After the men disappeared with Draco, Ginny’s temper exploded. Hermione had to cast a silencing charm on her to quiet her shouting, and it took both Ron and Harry to restrain her long enough to disapparate. They reappeared in Grimmauld Place, and while Ron was still getting his bearings, Ginny stole his wand — Snape still had hers — and started shooting off Bat Bogey Hexes. They didn’t do much damage since she had to cast them without speaking, still under the silencing charm, but they worked well enough to get Hermione to lift the spell.
“Professor!” Ginny whirled on McGonagall as soon as she felt the charm lift, then stopped and forced herself to speak normally. Shouting would get her nowhere. She began again more calmly, “I know you miss Professor Dumbledore. We all do. And I know a few good deeds won’t bring him back, but neither will punishing Draco!”
McGonagall sighed tiredly. “Child, I know that. But at least I can rest at ease knowing that he no longer poses a threat.”
“He doesn’t pose a threat when he’s free either!” Ginny wanted to punch somebody but settled with digging her nails into her palm instead. “He’s different now. None of you have been around him since last year, not even you, Professor! I have; I know.”
But no one would listen, least of all McGonagall. “I don’t have time for this, Miss Weasley,” she dismissed waspishly. “I have a school to run. I trust you will find your accommodations satisfactory.”
That statement gave Ginny pause, but before she could ask about it the woman disapparated with a crack that sounded as irritated as McGonagall had looked.
Ginny turned to Ron, Harry, and Hermione instead. “What did she mean, my ‘accommodations’?”
Ron looked uncomfortable. “You’re going to stay here the rest of the year. With us.”
“What? Why?”
Harry answered that. “Because obviously you’re a target, and the school’s not safe for you.”
“I’m not a target!” Ginny rolled her eyes just to keep from crying in frustration. “That was all Pierce. Voldemort doesn’t even know who I am!”
Harry looked at her like she was a moron. “Of course he knows you. Not even considering your relationship with me, there’s still the Chamber and that diary.”
Ginny gritted her teeth. “That was Tom. We don’t necessarily know that Voldemort — ”
“Ginny, don’t be stupid.”
“It’s for the best,” Ron interjected, obviously trying to forestall an argument.
Ginny glared at Harry another second, then looked away disdainfully. “So, what, I just won’t finish my sixth year?”
Hermione stepped forward. “We already figured this out, back when you first went missing and we had to make plans for what to do when we found you again.”
“Except you didn’t find me,” Ginny snapped, still fuming. “Draco did, and you put him in chains for it!”
Hermione ignored that. “The three of us — Harry, Ron and I — we’re all going to stay here too. We still have to lie low for awhile.” She glared at Harry. “We shouldn’t have risked so much today. Someone else could have handled it just as well, and it was quite stupid, actually.”
Harry’s mouth tightened. “Excuse me for wanting to make sure my girlfriend got home safe.”
Ginny looked at the floor, feeling her stomach flip. I’m not your girlfriend anymore, Harry. She still had to tell him — later, though. Now she grabbed for their attention again. “So what does this have to do with my education?”
Hermione looked back at her. “I’m going to tutor you on everything you would have learned, and then you’ll just take an exam at the end. To make sure you’re on the same track as everyone else.”
“And if I fail it?”
Hermione shrugged. Ron walked up and slung an arm around Hermione’s neck, the other around Ginny’s. “That’s nothing to worry about, little sister,” Ron told her. “With Hermione as your teacher, there’s no way you could fail.”
Hermione rewarded that comment with a quick kiss. Ginny rolled her eyes and ducked out from under Ron’s embrace, stalking off in the other direction.
Harry caught up with her. “Where’re you off to?”
She stopped and closed her eyes. “Harry, really, I just…I need some space right now. Can you let me have that?”
“I’ve hardly seen you since I got back,” he protested, voice wounded. “I just want to spend some time with you…” He took her elbow and turned her around to face him. “Didn’t you miss me at all?”
Ginny took one look at his face, at the innocent green eyes looking at her so bluntly, and she felt her heart break a little. It was so opposite of Draco, where every look was a challenge she had to puzzle out. Harry was so good, so…naïve in so many ways. None of this was his fault, and Ginny had never felt worse about herself in her life.
“Of course I missed you, Harry,” she said quietly. “More than you’ll know. But…I can’t deal with you right now.” Ginny pulled away, hating herself for saying that much, and hating herself even more for not saying all of it. She started heading towards the steps that led to the basement.
“Your room’s upstairs,” Harry called after her.
“I’m not going to my room.”
He ran ahead to cut her off, eyes glittering behind rounded spectacles. “You’re not hoping to see him, are you?”
“Get out of my way.”
“You are.” His voice was filled with wonder. “What’s going on between you two, Gin? I saw you hugging him at Snape’s!”
“Harry — ”
“But I was willing to let that slide. I just figured you were emotional then. I could understand that. But he’s all you’ve talked about since! I’m sorry, but isn’t this Malfoy we’re talking about? The same git that murdered Dumbledore?”
“Snape murdered Dumbledore. And Draco’s changed — ”
“I don’t want to hear it.” Harry rubbed at his scar.
Ginny noticed the gesture. “Does your scar hurt?”
He dropped his hand. “Never mind the bloody scar! I’m talking about us.”
“Well I’m not.” Ginny tried to shove past him, but Harry caught her arm.
“You won’t be able to see him.”
Ginny looked at him suspiciously. “Why not?”
“No one is allowed. McGonagall has him under a human guard, plus spells to keep out everyone but a select few.”
Ginny shook off his hand. “How can you expect to keep me in the same house as him and not let me near him?!”
“This is what I’m talking about!” Harry’s voice rose. “What does it matter? Did he protect you while I was away or something, is that it? You have me now! I can protect you again, just like I always have!”
He only left me here to protect me. She’d told Draco that once, and she remembered his response as clearly as if he was whispering it in her ear. And that’s the difference between me and him. I know better than to treat you like porcelain, Ginny. I know to let you live.
Overwhelmed, Ginny ran away without another word to Harry. She guessed rightly that they gave her the same room she’d stayed in during past visits, and when she found it, she threw herself onto the bed, squeezing her eyes shut as tightly as she could. She just wanted to block it all out. But curiosity kept nagging at her until finally, she tried sneaking downstairs again. But Harry had been right; there was no getting in to see Draco.
She returned furious to her room and collapsed onto the creaky old bed where she lay staring at the ceiling. The wallpaper was peeling in the corner, exposing weathered old wood underneath. It was just as well; the print was dark and depressing anyway. Maybe if Ginny brought it up they would change it for her. They at least owed her that much for making her a prisoner all over again.
Someone knocked softly at the door.
“Who is it?” she called dully.
“Gin? Can I come in?”
Harry. She sighed and rolled up. “It’s not locked.”
The door opened and Harry slipped through, shutting it softly behind him. He shoved his hands in his pockets and scuffed the toe of his shoe along the floor. “I…I wanted to apologize.”
Ginny took one look at him and felt her impatience melt away into shame. What kind of person was she to be angry at him? She couldn’t imagine going away, only to return and find him smitten with Pansy Parkinson or something. Compared to how she would react, Harry was coping miraculously well. He deserved to be upset with her. Instead he was apologizing.
She scooted over on the bed and patted the spot beside her. “For what?” she asked as he sat down.
“For…overreacting. Earlier. I shouldn’t have been so paranoid.”
Not so paranoid. Ginny dropped her gaze to the bedspread. “Don’t apologize. Really.”
He didn’t seem to hear. “It’s just…I’ve been gone so long and it seems almost like…” he trailed off uncertainly. “Ginny? You still want to…you know, be with me. Don’t you?”
Ginny let her hair fall forward as a barrier between them. She had to tell him. Before Pierce’s kidnapping she’d thought that maybe, just maybe she could find again what she lost with Harry…but after talking with Naomi, she knew that could never happen. Not unless she wanted to live the rest of her life regretting. No, she needed to end it now. She would never have a more perfect opening…
“Gin?” She felt his finger under her chin, gently lifting up her face to his.
…but Merlin it was so hard.
Ginny reached up and took his hand, holding it between them. She bit her lip, then reached inside her pocket and pulled out the locket he’d given her, dropping it with a soft clink into his palm.
“This is yours,” she said softly.
He stared at her. “I gave it to you. So that you wouldn’t forget me. You didn’t forget me. Tell me you didn’t.”
She smiled, feeling the first tear break free and spill over her cheek. “Of course not. I could never forget you Harry. But you also said it was mine as long…as long as I loved you.”
A light went out of his eyes. “So that means it’s still yours.” But it was the last desperate attempt of a drowning man, and it didn’t sound like even he believed himself.
Ginny only shook her head.
“You don’t love me.” He said it tonelessly, defeated.
Oh, Harry. I wish you could feel my heart breaking right now. “Never say that. I’ll always love you. I love you so much it’s killing me right now. Just…not the way you want me to. Once, but…”
Harry rose abruptly from the bed, turning his back to her. “Do you love him?”
Ginny didn’t have to ask who he was talking about. “Does it really matter?”
He spun back to face her, nostrils flaring. “Yes, it matters! How can you even ask that?”
She dropped her head, cradling her hands together in her lap. “I think so.”
“You think so?”
“Harry…”
“Because there’s a big difference between you do and you think.”
“Yes! Okay? I love him. I love him and I can’t help that! You think I wanted things to go this way? You think I didn’t fight it every minute, hated myself for the horrible person I thought I was? But I couldn’t, Harry, I couldn’t fight anymore, and I won’t keep beating myself up about it for your sake!”
Time seemed to come to a standstill then. Harry stared at her, his knuckles white around the locket in his hand. “So that’s it, then?”
She forced herself to meet his eyes. “I guess so.”
He raised the fist holding the locket to his lips, pressing it there. “I…I wanted…” Then he just shook his head and left.
Ginny flinched when the door shut. “I wanted it too,” she whispered to the emptiness. But things change.
She collapsed onto her back, staring up at the peeling wallpaper again. Her tears were dry now, leaving her with an empty feeling. Her stomach growled, but the thoughts of eating anything made her sick. She closed her eyes and ran over her conversation with Harry, tried to figure out how she could have broken it to him more gently. Then she thought of Draco and wondered what he was feeling right now. Rage, most likely.
Had she made the right decision? Draco was dangerous, after all; his last name alone would make him a target at least until the war ended, and maybe even after that. Maybe she could have fixed things with Harry, forced herself to love him again. Feelings like that couldn’t just disappear, could they? They had to be there somewhere inside of her, deep down. Unless it had never really been love with Harry, like she suspected, only infatuation.
She rolled onto her stomach, burying her face in her arms. But she knew the answer to all of that. She’d known all along, really — it just took Naomi to make her face it. She wanted Draco, more than she had wanted anything, and she would never be able to give Harry all of her heart. Some of it would always belong to Draco. And that wasn’t fair to either of them. If nothing else, Naomi had helped her see that much.
Ginny suddenly wondered what had happened to Naomi. She never saw her escape, and Ginny found herself afraid for her. She had grown quite close to the woman in their short time together, even with the age difference. Naomi was compassionate with a wicked streak in her, and Ginny reflected that they really did have a lot in common. Even if she had gotten out, where would she have gone? From the way she’d talked, she didn’t really have a home to run back to. Maybe Ginny could…
She sat up and bit her lip. Professor McGonagall would probably be furious, but funnily enough, Ginny found it very difficult to care about McGonagall’s feelings at the moment. Making up her mind, she crawled off the bed and found some parchment and a quill in the desk. She wrote out the letter, then folding it carefully into her pocket, slipped out the door and snuck down the hall into Ron’s room. He wasn’t there, just as Ginny had hoped.
The place was a mess, of course, and Ginny huffed in annoyance as she crawled over a pile of discarded clothes.
“Here, Pig.” She gave a soft whistle. “Where are you, Pig?”
She stubbed her toe and swore under her breath, cringing as the pain flared up and died away again. Glancing down to find the culprit, she rolled her eyes when she realized it was exactly what she was looking for — Pigwidgeon’s cage, a robe strewn over top.
She knelt down and whisked off the cover, smiling as Pig blinked at her. “Hiya,” she whispered, reaching in to lift him out. He immediately got excited and tried to flap away, but Ginny grabbed him quick and muttered, “Hold still for two seconds, you blasted bird.” She tied the note to his leg, carried him to the window, instructed, “Find Naomi Lawson,” and then tossed him out. Pig fell a few feet, zigzagged wildly a second or two, then managed to get enough momentum under his small wings to take off.
Ginny shook her head, just praying the feather-brained bird could manage it.
- - - - -
A/N – Holy cow guys, so I just sat back and thought about it, and this story should be all wrapped up in just a handful of chapters. I’m thinking maybe four or five? (I have all the events outlined, but I can never predict chapters — a scene I think might take up a page or two ends up evolving into the whole chapter, then scenes I think will eat up just thousands of words turn out fine as a few paragraphs, SO…)
BUT in any case, the end is in sight. Thanks for all of your faithful reading and reviews!
Even up here she could hear the sounds of men and women shouting, their expensive dragonhide boots beating against the floors below her. If Naomi didn’t find him soon, she knew, those men would start searching the guest rooms, and there she would be, captured again.
She still couldn’t quite fathom that she was free. It had happened so quickly, when that Death Eater apparently turned traitor came to rescue Ginny. The man’s eyes had gleamed at Naomi suspiciously behind the mask, but Ginny assured him that she was all right.
“You’re sure?” he asked, and Naomi realized from his voice that he wasn’t a man at all, but a boy not much older than Ginny. “If she screws this up, Malfoy’s going to have my arse.”
Ginny’s eyes widened dramatically. “Nott?”
“Intelligent, Weasley. Please, feel free to blurt out some more potentially harmful information. It’s not as if my life is on the line here or anything.”
The young redhead had flushed and set her jaw. “What are you doing here?”
His eyes rolled within the mask. “What does it look like? I’m saving your arse yet again, my darling Weasley. Now shut up and listen close, because we don’t have much time before your boyfriend gets a nasty scar on his arm. And you know how obsessed he is about staying pretty.”
After that Ginny did as she was told, staying silent and attentive as Nott explained everything. She was supposed to remember some maps that Lucius’s boy — apparently the one that had landed the girl in a cell with Naomi to begin with — drew in some shack or another. Using them as her guide, she was to run outside as fast as possible, find the Order waiting for her, and apparate back to headquarters.
“But Snape has wards,” Naomi had protested. “He’s the only one who can disapparate from the property. Or apparate in, for that matter.”
The boy Nott cast an annoyed look in her direction. “Why do you think Malfoy’s up there going through a fake ceremony? Snape had to lower the wards so the other Death Eaters could come and go.”
Nott turned then and started jogging away.
“Where are you going?” Ginny called.
“I’ve got a ceremony to break up,” he threw back over his shoulder, and then he was gone.
Ginny blinked, clearly stunned, then jumped to her feet. “Come on.” But when they got to the main floor, Naomi didn’t follow Ginny towards the exit. The girl noticed and stopped. “Aren’t you coming?”
Naomi shook her head. “I have something to take care of. You go, I’ll…catch up.”
Ginny had hesitated for half a beat, then with a shrug took off at a sprint.
All of that felt like ages ago, though, and Naomi was no closer to finding Ben. Snape told her he was in a guest room, but how many guest rooms did the place have? What if she wasn’t even on the right floor? What if she was in the wrong wing of the bloody estate?
She banged open the door to another room, more concerned with speed than stealth at this point, but it lay empty under a fine layer of dust. She whirled and started towards the next one. Then the sound of boots thumping up the stairs behind her made her freeze in her tracks, heart pounding. Acting purely on instinct, she slipped inside the next door to her right and locked it, her heart still too loud in her ears.
“Mummy?”
Naomi stopped breathing. Could it…? She spun and only just remembered to stifle her cry of relief when she saw Ben sitting in a huge bed that seemed to swallow up his tiny body.
“Mummy!” He vaulted off the bed only to trip and fall when his foot got tangled in the sheet. But he bounced back up again and kept coming, slamming into her waiting arms.
“Shh, shh,” she whispered against his hear, crying silent tears as she hugged him closer. “We have to be quiet now, okay baby? There’s bad men outside.”
He pushed away to see her face and nodded. “Okay, Mummy,” he agreed in a stage whisper.
Naomi smiled, biting her lip to hold back more tears. “Oh, sweetie, I’m so glad you’re okay,” she told him, barely audible. “Did that man hurt you?”
Ben shook his head, and Naomi pulled him tight against her again. She never wanted to move from this spot, never wanted to let him go again, but she knew she needed to get them out soon. So propping him on her hip, she stood up and walked to the door, pressing her ear against it. She didn’t hear anything. Heart thudding in her chest, she adjusted Ben so that she held him with one arm, still sitting on her hip, and raised a finger to her lips with her free hand.
Ben pressed a pudgy little finger to his lips as well to show that he understood. Naomi smiled and leaned forward to kiss that miniature finger before taking a deep breath and opening the door. She almost sobbed with relief when she found the hallway empty.
Then, making sure she held Ben tight and secure, she ran. Naomi remembered the way well enough from when Snape first brought her here, and by now the search seemed to have migrated to other parts of the estate. She only encountered a Death Eater once, and luckily a supply closet was to her left for her to hide in until he passed.
Ben’s head swiveled all around as she ran, her breathing a little raspy from having to carry his added weight, but he seemed to understand that this wasn’t just a game and stayed blessedly quiet. It was probably the first time in the boy’s whole life that he managed that, and she determined to give him a hundred chocolate frogs in reward as soon as they were safe.
Breaking out of the last door and into the crisp, windy day felt like flying. She closed her eyes and smiled, opening them again to find Ben studying her curiously. He showed her a wide grin when he saw her looking back, and she giggled quietly, pinching his nose. He squealed a little at the indignity, then quickly sucked in his lips when Naomi raised a cautionary finger to her mouth, reminding him to stay quiet.
Naomi looked away, and as she started thinking about where she should take them, something terrible occurred to her. She never got her wand back. Her stomach turned over, a sharp pain blooming behind her eyes. She could not just disapparate like Ginny planned on doing, and she couldn’t hope to sneak back into the estate and somehow find it in that labyrinth of rooms, especially not when it was still crawling with Death Eaters.
She swore violently under her breath, immediately guilty when she glanced down at Ben’s wide-eyed expression. She quickly brushed a kiss on his forehead to reassure him, then not knowing what else to do, started taking long strides over the grounds. She was going to have to try to walk out.
She stopped after five paces. Unless…. Snape must have a broom shed around the house somewhere. What kind of estate lacked something that basic? If she could nick a broom, she doubled her and Ben’s chances of escape.
Turning a sharp about-face, she started back towards Snape Estate. Ben was growing heavy in her arms, so she paused long enough to switch him to the other hip, then kept going. She still marveled at how well-behaved he was being. He usually had far too much energy to be still and quiet so long. Had this experience changed him so much, or was he just old enough to understand the gravity of the situation? She prayed for the latter.
When she reached the house, close enough that someone looking out the window wouldn’t see her unless he leaned way out and looked directly down, she started simply walking along the walls. If she walked the perimeter she was sure to stumble on the broom shed eventually. If Snape had one.
She hadn’t been walking too long when she turned a corner and saw something in her path up ahead. Giving Ben a little nudge back to her hip from where he’d started slipping, she squinted at the black pile, edging forward slowly. She felt a sick lurch in her stomach when she realized the “pile” was actually a person, body broken beneath the robes. She closed her eyes to fight down nausea, then bit her lip, debating what to do. Finally she knelt down, setting Ben on his feet.
“Mummy’s going to pop just over there, only for a minute, all right? I want you to stay right here, though, Ben. Do you understand? Don’t follow me. Yeah?”
Ben bobbed his head, lifting up his hand to suck on the sleeve of his shirt. He did that when he was scared, and guilt filled Naomi at seeing it.
“I’ll be right back, but if anyone comes and I’m not looking, stay very quiet unless the person sees you. If that happens, scream, all right Ben?”
He nodded again, sucking harder at the cloth of his shirt. Naomi forced a shaky smile for his benefit and leaned down to give him a quick kiss. Then she turned around, and taking a steadying breath, jogged over to the body.
It was a Death Eater, that much was apparent from the midnight robes and silver mask glinting in the sunlight. She prodded the shape with her toe but got no response, and from the distorted outline beneath the robes, it looked as if the person’s skeleton got slightly rearranged. She tasted bile at the back of her throat but tried to console herself by thinking that whoever it was, the person probably deserved it. He — or she — had been a Death Eater, after all.
She was about to go back for Ben and plug ahead, just telling him to close his eyes as she skirted the body, but a polished gleam in the grass caught her eye. Curious, she walked over and crouched down, finding herself looking at a wand, long and slender and pale chestnut-colored wood. The pain behind her eyes exploded into a throbbing pulse, her whole world going out of focus for a second. She knew that wand.
She glanced again at the body and shook her head slowly. No, no, it couldn’t be. It couldn’t, not him. He was too smart, too quick. She knew in her heart that she was wrong, that she was just jumping to conclusions. But she had to be sure.
Crawling over to the body, she carefully nudged it over onto its back. It gave a few sickening cracks and pops when she did, and Naomi had to lean to the side, clutching at her stomach as she dry heaved and coughed. She closed her eyes, exhaled slowly, then reached over and pulled back the mask.
Jonathon Pierce’s face stared back, eyes open and unseeing. He looked incredulous, as if he couldn’t quite believe he was dead either.
Naomi choked on a sob, then two, then stopped trying to hold them back. She leaned over his broken body, pressing her head into his chest as convulsive tears wracked her, his mask clutched in one hand and his wand in the other.
She suddenly sat up and threw the mask on his chest. “Damn you, Jon! I hate you, do you hear me?! I won’t ever forgive you for this! I hate you!” Then she broke down again, rocking back and forth with her head in her hands, the wand pressed against the side of her face. “You were the one,” she whispered. “Why did you have to keep coming back to this? We could have been happy. You were supposed to be the one.”
She felt a light touch on her arm and let out a startled gasp.
“Mummy?” Ben’s voice was small and scared. “Are you okay?”
She let out a sound half-sob and half-laugh, snatching him close to her breast and rocking back and forth, lips pressed to the top of his head. Then forcing herself under some semblance of control, she held him back far enough that she could look him seriously in the eye. “I love you, Ben. You know that, right? You know I love you so much?”
He started sucking on his sleeve again, nodding once. “I love you too,” he told her, voice muffled around the cloth.
Naomi breathed in deeply and took one last lingering look at Jon. She reached out and carefully closed his eyes.
“What’s wrong with him?” Ben asked, clearly frightened. “Who is it?”
“It’s an old friend of Mummy’s,” she told him, voice raw and hoarse. “He’s…he’s just resting.” Naomi turned Ben away from the sight, swallowing hard. She had to be strong now, for Ben. There would be plenty of time for grieving later…and now she had a wand.
She climbed to her feet and was just bending down to pick up Ben when a familiar, cold voice made her freeze.
“I see you’ve found him.”
Naomi slowly straightened up and turned to face Severus Snape. He looked like he always did — pinched and irritated at everything around him — but a certain grief seemed hidden in the depths of his black eyes. Naomi took a wary step backwards, eyes narrowing. She pointed at Jon’s corpse. “Did you do this?”
He gave her a contemptuous look. “Don’t be ridiculous, Lawson. Jon was…a friend. I risked everything for him.”
Naomi nudged Ben behind her legs, never taking her eyes off Snape. “You told you weren’t his friend. Or at least that he couldn’t trust you. He told me once.”
Snape sighed. “For his benefit. He was always too cocky for this game. Too assured in his abilities. I didn’t think he would last if he kept it up.” Snape’s lips pressed into a thin line as he stared down at the misshapen body. “It would seem I was right.” He shook his head. He seemed like he was talking to himself when he added, “I knew Draco would never give in so easily. I told him….”
Naomi could feel a pulse in her ears, pounding away in counterpoint to the throbbing in her head. “What do you want, Snape?”
He raised his eyes back to her. He glanced once at Ben, who was peeking around her legs, but Naomi shoved him back behind her. “I found him earlier,” Snape explained. “I went to get some men to help me move him. They’ll be here in a few minutes.”
Naomi felt her stomach flutter. “More men are coming?” She might have been able to fend off Snape, even with using Jon’s pilfered wand instead of her own, but a whole group of them…?
Snape sighed. “Just go, Lawson. Take your son, and go. The wards are still down.”
She stared, positive she’d heard wrong. “What? You’re…letting me go?”
“Are you deaf? Yes. You’re of no worth to me now that Jon….” Snape sent a fresh glare her way. “Just get out of my sight.”
Naomi knew she should do just that before he changed his mind, and she would never understand what madness made her ask, “What about you? What will you do now?” Something told her he would not go back to the way things were now that Jon had passed.
An expression like rage flitted across Snape’s face, but then it was gone, and he was left looking very, very weary. “Will I go back to being a Death Eater, is that what you’re asking?” Snape gazed down at Jon. “Probably not. I was like Jon, just in it for the power, the respect. But I’m too old. None of it matters.”
“The Order?” Naomi asked quietly.
He barked a laugh. “I can stomach this lot much easier than I ever could that bunch of self-righteous pillocks. No, I’ll go hide away someplace until one of ‘em wins, and then I’ll just say I was on their side all along.” He showed her a yellow smile. “Or else they’ll kill each other off and I won’t have to bother.”
Naomi bit her lip. She’d hated this man with every fiber of her being not two minutes ago, but now she wasn’t so sure. She felt an odd union with him, as if their grief for Jon had bound them in some way. And after all, he’d only been looking out for his friend in taking her captive. She might’ve done the same, and he always treated her well, and Ben looked healthy as ever. Hell, she should probably thank him for getting them both away from Lucius. She couldn’t help but think that he didn’t have to go back for Ben. He just had.
“So that’s that, then,” she said quietly.
Snape sneered. “Don’t feel sorry for me. I can see it in your eyes. I may not be Lucius, but I’m not Jon either. If those men walk around the corner and you’re still here, I won’t hesitate to let them do what they want with you, and little Benjamin can watch.”
Naomi didn’t let the threat anger her, even though she knew he was telling the truth. His apathy was his shield. If he wanted to keep hiding behind it his whole life, that was his prerogative. “In that case, good luck, Severus.”
“Get out of my sight,” he growled.
This time Naomi listened. She hoisted Ben up onto her hip, warning him, “Hold on tight. This is going to feel a little funny.” Her son buried his head in her shoulder and clung tight.
Naomi raised Jon’s wand, and as she closed her eyes to envision where they would go, one place jumped immediately into her mind, and Naomi grabbed hold of the image without hesitation. Then she left Snape, Jon, and the whole mess behind her with a soft pop.
- - - - -
After the men disappeared with Draco, Ginny’s temper exploded. Hermione had to cast a silencing charm on her to quiet her shouting, and it took both Ron and Harry to restrain her long enough to disapparate. They reappeared in Grimmauld Place, and while Ron was still getting his bearings, Ginny stole his wand — Snape still had hers — and started shooting off Bat Bogey Hexes. They didn’t do much damage since she had to cast them without speaking, still under the silencing charm, but they worked well enough to get Hermione to lift the spell.
“Professor!” Ginny whirled on McGonagall as soon as she felt the charm lift, then stopped and forced herself to speak normally. Shouting would get her nowhere. She began again more calmly, “I know you miss Professor Dumbledore. We all do. And I know a few good deeds won’t bring him back, but neither will punishing Draco!”
McGonagall sighed tiredly. “Child, I know that. But at least I can rest at ease knowing that he no longer poses a threat.”
“He doesn’t pose a threat when he’s free either!” Ginny wanted to punch somebody but settled with digging her nails into her palm instead. “He’s different now. None of you have been around him since last year, not even you, Professor! I have; I know.”
But no one would listen, least of all McGonagall. “I don’t have time for this, Miss Weasley,” she dismissed waspishly. “I have a school to run. I trust you will find your accommodations satisfactory.”
That statement gave Ginny pause, but before she could ask about it the woman disapparated with a crack that sounded as irritated as McGonagall had looked.
Ginny turned to Ron, Harry, and Hermione instead. “What did she mean, my ‘accommodations’?”
Ron looked uncomfortable. “You’re going to stay here the rest of the year. With us.”
“What? Why?”
Harry answered that. “Because obviously you’re a target, and the school’s not safe for you.”
“I’m not a target!” Ginny rolled her eyes just to keep from crying in frustration. “That was all Pierce. Voldemort doesn’t even know who I am!”
Harry looked at her like she was a moron. “Of course he knows you. Not even considering your relationship with me, there’s still the Chamber and that diary.”
Ginny gritted her teeth. “That was Tom. We don’t necessarily know that Voldemort — ”
“Ginny, don’t be stupid.”
“It’s for the best,” Ron interjected, obviously trying to forestall an argument.
Ginny glared at Harry another second, then looked away disdainfully. “So, what, I just won’t finish my sixth year?”
Hermione stepped forward. “We already figured this out, back when you first went missing and we had to make plans for what to do when we found you again.”
“Except you didn’t find me,” Ginny snapped, still fuming. “Draco did, and you put him in chains for it!”
Hermione ignored that. “The three of us — Harry, Ron and I — we’re all going to stay here too. We still have to lie low for awhile.” She glared at Harry. “We shouldn’t have risked so much today. Someone else could have handled it just as well, and it was quite stupid, actually.”
Harry’s mouth tightened. “Excuse me for wanting to make sure my girlfriend got home safe.”
Ginny looked at the floor, feeling her stomach flip. I’m not your girlfriend anymore, Harry. She still had to tell him — later, though. Now she grabbed for their attention again. “So what does this have to do with my education?”
Hermione looked back at her. “I’m going to tutor you on everything you would have learned, and then you’ll just take an exam at the end. To make sure you’re on the same track as everyone else.”
“And if I fail it?”
Hermione shrugged. Ron walked up and slung an arm around Hermione’s neck, the other around Ginny’s. “That’s nothing to worry about, little sister,” Ron told her. “With Hermione as your teacher, there’s no way you could fail.”
Hermione rewarded that comment with a quick kiss. Ginny rolled her eyes and ducked out from under Ron’s embrace, stalking off in the other direction.
Harry caught up with her. “Where’re you off to?”
She stopped and closed her eyes. “Harry, really, I just…I need some space right now. Can you let me have that?”
“I’ve hardly seen you since I got back,” he protested, voice wounded. “I just want to spend some time with you…” He took her elbow and turned her around to face him. “Didn’t you miss me at all?”
Ginny took one look at his face, at the innocent green eyes looking at her so bluntly, and she felt her heart break a little. It was so opposite of Draco, where every look was a challenge she had to puzzle out. Harry was so good, so…naïve in so many ways. None of this was his fault, and Ginny had never felt worse about herself in her life.
“Of course I missed you, Harry,” she said quietly. “More than you’ll know. But…I can’t deal with you right now.” Ginny pulled away, hating herself for saying that much, and hating herself even more for not saying all of it. She started heading towards the steps that led to the basement.
“Your room’s upstairs,” Harry called after her.
“I’m not going to my room.”
He ran ahead to cut her off, eyes glittering behind rounded spectacles. “You’re not hoping to see him, are you?”
“Get out of my way.”
“You are.” His voice was filled with wonder. “What’s going on between you two, Gin? I saw you hugging him at Snape’s!”
“Harry — ”
“But I was willing to let that slide. I just figured you were emotional then. I could understand that. But he’s all you’ve talked about since! I’m sorry, but isn’t this Malfoy we’re talking about? The same git that murdered Dumbledore?”
“Snape murdered Dumbledore. And Draco’s changed — ”
“I don’t want to hear it.” Harry rubbed at his scar.
Ginny noticed the gesture. “Does your scar hurt?”
He dropped his hand. “Never mind the bloody scar! I’m talking about us.”
“Well I’m not.” Ginny tried to shove past him, but Harry caught her arm.
“You won’t be able to see him.”
Ginny looked at him suspiciously. “Why not?”
“No one is allowed. McGonagall has him under a human guard, plus spells to keep out everyone but a select few.”
Ginny shook off his hand. “How can you expect to keep me in the same house as him and not let me near him?!”
“This is what I’m talking about!” Harry’s voice rose. “What does it matter? Did he protect you while I was away or something, is that it? You have me now! I can protect you again, just like I always have!”
He only left me here to protect me. She’d told Draco that once, and she remembered his response as clearly as if he was whispering it in her ear. And that’s the difference between me and him. I know better than to treat you like porcelain, Ginny. I know to let you live.
Overwhelmed, Ginny ran away without another word to Harry. She guessed rightly that they gave her the same room she’d stayed in during past visits, and when she found it, she threw herself onto the bed, squeezing her eyes shut as tightly as she could. She just wanted to block it all out. But curiosity kept nagging at her until finally, she tried sneaking downstairs again. But Harry had been right; there was no getting in to see Draco.
She returned furious to her room and collapsed onto the creaky old bed where she lay staring at the ceiling. The wallpaper was peeling in the corner, exposing weathered old wood underneath. It was just as well; the print was dark and depressing anyway. Maybe if Ginny brought it up they would change it for her. They at least owed her that much for making her a prisoner all over again.
Someone knocked softly at the door.
“Who is it?” she called dully.
“Gin? Can I come in?”
Harry. She sighed and rolled up. “It’s not locked.”
The door opened and Harry slipped through, shutting it softly behind him. He shoved his hands in his pockets and scuffed the toe of his shoe along the floor. “I…I wanted to apologize.”
Ginny took one look at him and felt her impatience melt away into shame. What kind of person was she to be angry at him? She couldn’t imagine going away, only to return and find him smitten with Pansy Parkinson or something. Compared to how she would react, Harry was coping miraculously well. He deserved to be upset with her. Instead he was apologizing.
She scooted over on the bed and patted the spot beside her. “For what?” she asked as he sat down.
“For…overreacting. Earlier. I shouldn’t have been so paranoid.”
Not so paranoid. Ginny dropped her gaze to the bedspread. “Don’t apologize. Really.”
He didn’t seem to hear. “It’s just…I’ve been gone so long and it seems almost like…” he trailed off uncertainly. “Ginny? You still want to…you know, be with me. Don’t you?”
Ginny let her hair fall forward as a barrier between them. She had to tell him. Before Pierce’s kidnapping she’d thought that maybe, just maybe she could find again what she lost with Harry…but after talking with Naomi, she knew that could never happen. Not unless she wanted to live the rest of her life regretting. No, she needed to end it now. She would never have a more perfect opening…
“Gin?” She felt his finger under her chin, gently lifting up her face to his.
…but Merlin it was so hard.
Ginny reached up and took his hand, holding it between them. She bit her lip, then reached inside her pocket and pulled out the locket he’d given her, dropping it with a soft clink into his palm.
“This is yours,” she said softly.
He stared at her. “I gave it to you. So that you wouldn’t forget me. You didn’t forget me. Tell me you didn’t.”
She smiled, feeling the first tear break free and spill over her cheek. “Of course not. I could never forget you Harry. But you also said it was mine as long…as long as I loved you.”
A light went out of his eyes. “So that means it’s still yours.” But it was the last desperate attempt of a drowning man, and it didn’t sound like even he believed himself.
Ginny only shook her head.
“You don’t love me.” He said it tonelessly, defeated.
Oh, Harry. I wish you could feel my heart breaking right now. “Never say that. I’ll always love you. I love you so much it’s killing me right now. Just…not the way you want me to. Once, but…”
Harry rose abruptly from the bed, turning his back to her. “Do you love him?”
Ginny didn’t have to ask who he was talking about. “Does it really matter?”
He spun back to face her, nostrils flaring. “Yes, it matters! How can you even ask that?”
She dropped her head, cradling her hands together in her lap. “I think so.”
“You think so?”
“Harry…”
“Because there’s a big difference between you do and you think.”
“Yes! Okay? I love him. I love him and I can’t help that! You think I wanted things to go this way? You think I didn’t fight it every minute, hated myself for the horrible person I thought I was? But I couldn’t, Harry, I couldn’t fight anymore, and I won’t keep beating myself up about it for your sake!”
Time seemed to come to a standstill then. Harry stared at her, his knuckles white around the locket in his hand. “So that’s it, then?”
She forced herself to meet his eyes. “I guess so.”
He raised the fist holding the locket to his lips, pressing it there. “I…I wanted…” Then he just shook his head and left.
Ginny flinched when the door shut. “I wanted it too,” she whispered to the emptiness. But things change.
She collapsed onto her back, staring up at the peeling wallpaper again. Her tears were dry now, leaving her with an empty feeling. Her stomach growled, but the thoughts of eating anything made her sick. She closed her eyes and ran over her conversation with Harry, tried to figure out how she could have broken it to him more gently. Then she thought of Draco and wondered what he was feeling right now. Rage, most likely.
Had she made the right decision? Draco was dangerous, after all; his last name alone would make him a target at least until the war ended, and maybe even after that. Maybe she could have fixed things with Harry, forced herself to love him again. Feelings like that couldn’t just disappear, could they? They had to be there somewhere inside of her, deep down. Unless it had never really been love with Harry, like she suspected, only infatuation.
She rolled onto her stomach, burying her face in her arms. But she knew the answer to all of that. She’d known all along, really — it just took Naomi to make her face it. She wanted Draco, more than she had wanted anything, and she would never be able to give Harry all of her heart. Some of it would always belong to Draco. And that wasn’t fair to either of them. If nothing else, Naomi had helped her see that much.
Ginny suddenly wondered what had happened to Naomi. She never saw her escape, and Ginny found herself afraid for her. She had grown quite close to the woman in their short time together, even with the age difference. Naomi was compassionate with a wicked streak in her, and Ginny reflected that they really did have a lot in common. Even if she had gotten out, where would she have gone? From the way she’d talked, she didn’t really have a home to run back to. Maybe Ginny could…
She sat up and bit her lip. Professor McGonagall would probably be furious, but funnily enough, Ginny found it very difficult to care about McGonagall’s feelings at the moment. Making up her mind, she crawled off the bed and found some parchment and a quill in the desk. She wrote out the letter, then folding it carefully into her pocket, slipped out the door and snuck down the hall into Ron’s room. He wasn’t there, just as Ginny had hoped.
The place was a mess, of course, and Ginny huffed in annoyance as she crawled over a pile of discarded clothes.
“Here, Pig.” She gave a soft whistle. “Where are you, Pig?”
She stubbed her toe and swore under her breath, cringing as the pain flared up and died away again. Glancing down to find the culprit, she rolled her eyes when she realized it was exactly what she was looking for — Pigwidgeon’s cage, a robe strewn over top.
She knelt down and whisked off the cover, smiling as Pig blinked at her. “Hiya,” she whispered, reaching in to lift him out. He immediately got excited and tried to flap away, but Ginny grabbed him quick and muttered, “Hold still for two seconds, you blasted bird.” She tied the note to his leg, carried him to the window, instructed, “Find Naomi Lawson,” and then tossed him out. Pig fell a few feet, zigzagged wildly a second or two, then managed to get enough momentum under his small wings to take off.
Ginny shook her head, just praying the feather-brained bird could manage it.
- - - - -
A/N – Holy cow guys, so I just sat back and thought about it, and this story should be all wrapped up in just a handful of chapters. I’m thinking maybe four or five? (I have all the events outlined, but I can never predict chapters — a scene I think might take up a page or two ends up evolving into the whole chapter, then scenes I think will eat up just thousands of words turn out fine as a few paragraphs, SO…)
BUT in any case, the end is in sight. Thanks for all of your faithful reading and reviews!
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