Inner Demons - Chapter 60 (Part 1)
Title Inner Demons (sequel to Starting Over)
Chapter 60/60: Desperate Measures
Author serendipity_50
Pairings: H/G, R/Hr
Warnings: Het sex, mild profanity, angst
Word Count this chapter: about 10,800
Era: Post-DH Pre-Epilogue
Disclaimer: The characters belong to JK Rowling. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment only.
Story Summary: Relationships are hard under normal circumstances, but Harry and Ginny don’t have the luxury of living normal lives...
Chapter Summary: Harry knows the end is near, but Ginny refuses to let him get away with anything.
Author's Notes: Ahhh... after four long years, the final chapter. I hope you find this Yuletide gift (posted in two parts) a satisfying end. But wait! There's more! I'll post the epilogue later today. And as always, Ash and Min are my heroes.
“Hermione Granger Weasley, you’d better start explaining right now!”
At the sight of Ginny, Harry froze-except for his heart, which was trying to hammer its way out of his chest.
Hermione spun, reaching out to him with upturned palms, panic in her eyes. “I didn’t tell her. I swear, Harry, I never said a word. Please… don’t do anything rash. We need to talk about this.”
Before she’d finished, Malfoy jumped from his chair, shouting, “Potter, you promised!”
Ginny watched them both with wild eyes, then turned toward him, her voice a whisper of hope. “Harry? Are you there?”
Harry wished for something to punch. She wasn’t supposed to find out, especially not like this. He should snatch off his amulet and disappear just like he’d sworn-but she looked so… lost, he just couldn’t bring himself to follow through.
Hermione glanced nervously at Ginny, then back toward him. “Harry? You’re not leaving, are you?”
Reluctantly-very reluctantly-he stepped over to NO.
Ginny gave a gasp that was close to a sob as she stared at the word on the wall. “He’s alive? He’s really alive?” The words were barely a whisper, but then, her face suddenly suffused with vivid fury, she whirled to face Hermione. “What the hell is going on? Why didn’t you tell me? How could you let me think-” She cut herself off and closed her eyes for a moment, drawing several deep breaths before drilling Hermione with a stare that threatened to maim. “Explain.”
Hermione sagged into her chair and weakly gestured Ginny toward the empty seat across the table from where Malfoy still stood. “Sit. This could take a while.” Flicking her wand a couple of times, Hermione transferred most of the books to the towering bookshelf next to the table
Casting suspicious glances between Hermione, Malfoy, and the place Harry was standing, Ginny eased into the chair, then pierced Hermione with a glare. “You’d better have a really good reason for not telling me.”
Heaving a sigh, Hermione opened her mouth… then shut it. She opened it again, then gave a humorless laugh. “I guess I do have a good reason. I can’t. The Secrecy Charm is still in place.” She turned toward Harry. “Harry, why could I tell the Malfoys, but not Ginny?”
Harry grimaced. He’d known that he was taking a risk adding the Malfoys as an exception so he could talk to them about the case, but he’d never dreamed that this would be the worst thing that could happen by not casting it on them directly The temptation to lie was strong, but Ginny wasn’t going to let this go, no matter what he did. His feet felt like lead as he started to move.
I N C L U D E D T H E M W H E N ROBARDS A N D I C A S T T H E C H A R M
“But they weren’t there when the charm was cast.” The sly gleam in Hermione’s eyes told him she hadn’t missed the flaw in the plan, either. “That means they can talk about it… right?”
Harry took his time answering-it was the only way to convey his disapproval.
YES
Ginny turned her scowl-and her wand-on Malfoy. “Talk.”
Malfoy lifted one eyebrow and smirked. “I’m not sure I like the way you’ve asked. Perhaps if you-” He stopped and pulled his Galleon from his pocket.
Stop being a prat and tell her.
With a smirk, Malfoy dropped into a deep, formal bow. “Your wish is my command, Oh Mighty Chosen One.”
Ignoring the sarcasm, Harry responded, Remember your promise-the last thing he needed was Malfoy blurting out the contingency plan-then turned his attention to Ginny.
He felt every emotion that played across her face: shock, anger, heartbreak. Malfoy gave the barest of details-that Harry and Scott had been hit with Dolohov’s curse, how Hermione had worked out the means of communication, how he and his mother had become involved, and that they hadn’t been able to find a counter-curse-but Ginny seemed to understand the long-term implications, and her anguished expression filled Harry with helpless frustration.
After the scene at St. Mungo’s and the failure of the first ritual attempt, he’d not gone to see her again; when the second attempt ended in such disaster, he’d resolved to stay away and, hopefully, make what he would eventually have to do a bit easier. But now, he ached to hold her, to reassure her, to make promises he’d never be able to keep.
“Harry?” Ginny’s voice broke on the word. “I-”
“Here,” Malfoy interrupted, holding his Galleon out to her. “Use this. It’ll be easier for him to answer.”
Taking the coin, she raised shocked eyes to Malfoy and opened her mouth, but before she could speak, he was headed out the door. She gaped after him until Hermione stood.
“I’ll give you a few minutes alone,” she said and hugged Ginny hard before scurrying after Malfoy.
Grateful that he didn’t have to try to talk past the knot in his throat, Harry tapped his coin. At least now he could be sure to say it before it was too late: I love you.
Ginny started crying in earnest. Startled by her open distress, Harry jumped to comfort her, then stomped and swore viciously when his arm passed through her shoulders. He sank to his knees in front of her, forcing back the tightness in his throat. He was glad she didn’t feel the need to keep up her bravado in front of him, but he would give anything if he could keep her from feeling the pain in the first place. His own eyes blurred. This was just too hard. Why did she have to come nosing around
“I love you, too,” she finally choked out. “Are you okay?”
Harry closed his eyes and tried to collect his thoughts. He couldn’t tell her the truth, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie, either.
I’m fine. I didn’t want you to know.
She gasped and glared at the coin. “That’s why Hermione didn’t tell me, isn’t it? You made her promise, didn’t you?”
Yes. Don’t be angry with her.
“But why? Why wouldn’t you want me to know?” Her breath hitched and another tear trailed down her cheek.
That’s why. Too hard for you.
Her head snapped up. “Don’t you dare try to make decisions about what I can and can’t handle. I get enough of that from my family, I don’t need it from you, too.”
There was that blazing look he loved. Harry knew she didn’t need protecting, but the need to try was beyond his control. He burned with a fierce longing to kiss her senseless. Well, actually, to do more than kiss her… much more. His mind raced with desire, even if his body couldn’t respond. Fucking Dolohov! Right now Harry wanted to cut off something much more appropriate than the bastard’s head. But he squashed his anger; Ginny was waiting for an answer.
Didn’t want to hurt you again.
Guess I can’t win either way.
She gave a soggy snort. “I know you meant well, but I’d rather know the truth.”
They sat in silence for several long moments as Ginny slowly curled in on herself. Her rough whisper finally broke the peace, stabbing at Harry’s heart. “Hermione… she’s going to fix this… isn’t she?” As she spoke, she stared at the coin, turning it over and over as if she might find the right answer on the other side.
Harry dropped his head into his hands. He needed to tell her where this might lead. She’d just said she wanted the truth, but she looked so vulnerable, he couldn’t make himself form the words. He finally settled for She’s researching it.
Ginny straightened and looked over his head toward the letter board, as if she could really see him there. The blazing look made another appearance, but this time it sent a jolt of dread through him.
“I want to help.” Harry frantically tapped his coin-NO!-but she ignored it. “I’m going to take a leave of absence from the team. I’m useless to them right now, anyway. If Malfoy can help with research, then I can, too.”
Harry tried to jump in front of her as she covered the distance to the door, then stomped in impotent fury as she walked right through him and stuck her head out to call Hermione. With her here, how was he ever going to be able to do what was looking more likely by the day? In the end, it would just be harder on both of them.
***
Ginny had expected at least token resistance when she announced that she was staying to help, but Hermione seemed more than happy about the idea-almost too eager, in fact. And when Ron came in later, he accepted her presence with sad resignation, then sent an owl to let the rest of the family know where she was.
But Malfoy and, surprisingly, Harry were a completely different story.
Malfoy’s opposition Ginny could understand-he was a prick, after all, and was probably working to sabotage the rescue anyway; she still wasn’t completely sure why he was even here. But Harry? She could think of only one reason he wouldn’t want her around: He was planning to do something she wouldn’t like, no matter what promises he’d made that last night they were together. She might not be able to see or hear him, but he was damn sure going to have to answer for any stupid decisions. Now that she’d found him again, she wasn’t about to let him out of her si… erm, presence, if she could help it.
Of course, Ginny knew being here could also cause problems; almost immediately, Hermione had handed over Harry’s Invisibility Cloak with a quiet warning to “disappear” if anyone besides a Weasley or a Malfoy came in. Taking the caution to heart, Ginny kept the Cloak close at hand and stuck to the shadows in the room-a sound decision with the Head Auror popping in at random times nearly every day to check on their progress.
But she also decided to take no chances that someone might decide to block her return if she left. With a sheaf of parchment transfigured into a lumpy mattress, food brought in by Harry’s house-elf (and why was Malfoy’s mother ordering him about?), and freshening charms in the loo, Ginny made herself right at home.
Her first research assignment had been an eye-opener.
“Here,” Hermione had said, shoving a huge stack of parchment at her. “The Secrecy Charm should allow you to read these since you’re in this room. Let Malfoy know if you have any questions.”
“These” happened to be all of their notes on Dolohov’s curse, and they held Ginny’s rapt attention for nearly a day. Malfoy’s terse recounting of events hadn’t even scratched the surface of the horrors Harry and Scott were enduring. And it would all be so much worse if they hadn’t been wearing those tracking amulets. Scott’s inability to heal was the most terrifying, though, making Ginny’s heart ache for both him and Val. What would’ve happened to him if Harry hadn’t been there to cast the charms to keep him from suffering? Ginny was grateful that Hermione hadn’t told them the whole story that day at the pitch-it would’ve sent Val over the edge
Reluctantly, Ginny had to admit that she could see the reasons why some secrets really needed to be kept. She didn’t like the idea of not knowing everything Harry was up to, but she was beginning to understand that he wasn’t hiding things to hurt her… and that knowing everything would probably hurt more than help. It was something they were going to have to discuss-and probably work on… a lot-when this was all over.
The rest of the week had passed like treacle in winter. Ginny had expected the work to be dull, but leafing through ancient books, looking for anything that might be related to a curse they couldn’t even define all seemed rather pointless. Not that she had any better ideas. Even if she wasn’t stupid-her NEWT scores were well above average-next to Hermione, who of course was brilliant, and Malfoy, who was a close second (much as she hated to admit it), Ginny felt like a dolt. Even Mrs. Malfoy seemed to understand the magical theory better than Ginny ever would. Ginny started thinking she’d be helping more if she just kept the room tidy and stayed out of their way.
By Friday, after listening to Malfoy and Hermione’s incessant arguments about the merits and faults of various spells and rituals, Ginny itched to ask a million questions about the Malfoys, the curse, and more importantly, how Harry was really doing. Not that they-or anyone here-could ever have a private conversation. Even with the Secrecy Charm relaxing more the longer Ginny was involved, the fact that Harry could listen undetected to any conversation, anywhere, regardless of wards, meant that getting any real answers was out of the question.
And, of course, Harry wouldn’t give her any straight answers, either. He just hinted at things that made her gut churn endlessly. Like tonight. After everyone else had gone home, his first question made her heart clench.
What if the ritual doesn’t work?
Huddled on her makeshift bed in the darkest corner, wrapped in her cloak and Warming and Disillusionment charms (in case anyone came in while she was asleep), she glared at Harry’s question on the coin even as she tried to school her face-no telling what stupid idea he might get in his head if he thought she was upset.
“It’s going to be all right, Harry. We’ve worked out the problems. It won’t be like last time.”
According to Hermione’s notes, the first attempt at the ritual had been practically useless, except to guide their hypothesis about the proper way to proceed… or so they’d thought. The second attempt had nearly been disastrous-the dry narrative of the notes had downplayed the sequence of events, but Malfoy had dropped enough hints for Ginny to piece things together. Apparently, whatever they’d done had blown Hermione, Ron, and Malfoy across the room, left Harry unconscious for several hours, and nearly killed Scott. But at least the Resurrection Stone-the key to the whole ritual-hadn’t been damaged, so they could try again. Tomorrow.
The coin warmed again, bringing Ginny from her musings.
But what if it doesn’t work?
“Then we’ll try something else.”
And if that doesn’t work?
Exasperated, Ginny huffed. “We’ll keep trying until we find something that does.”
Can’t keep trying forever.
“Why not?”
You need to move on.
Hermione and Ron, too.
Ginny stared at the words as frozen fingers closed around her heart. “No,” she breathed. “No, I can’t. I won’t. We’ll find a way out of this, Harry. I won’t give up. And you’d better not, either. You promised. You said you’d never again go down without a fight.”
The coin grew cold in her palm, and she began to wonder if he’d left. “Harry?” She had half pushed herself up to go and check the map when the Galleon finally heated against her skin.
I remember.
She waited several moments, certain he wasn’t finished and dreading what was to come.
But we might have to give up one day.
Ginny shook her head, unable to speak over the fear choking her.
When the time comes, don’t feel guilty.
I want you to keep living… to move on.
“Why do you keep saying that?” She was angry now, in spite of the tears pressing at her eyes. “I don’t want to move on without you! We’re going to fix this. We’re going to bring you both back, and I don’t want you to say another word otherwise ever again, do you understand me?”
The coin cooled in her hand, igniting her worries again before it warmed back to life.
You should rest.
Panic surged in Ginny’s chest. “Where are you going? What are you going to do?” A long moment passed with no response. “Harry, please. Please don’t leave. Promise you’ll stay with me.”
The coin seemed to take on an unnatural chill. Ginny watched it, willing him to give the right answer.
I promise I’ll stay with you tonight.
Tonight. The message was clear. But before she could form an answer, his next message appeared.
Right now, I want to lie beside you and pretend.
Ginny let out a shuddering breath. She didn’t really want to let this go, but allowing him to think he’d won for the moment would keep him here more effectively than arguing about whatever ridiculous notion he’d got in his head. He’d said he would stay, and for now she trusted him. Besides, this game they played most nights was inexplicably comforting, even if it left her yearning for him.
“Pretend what?”
That I’m kissing you. Can you feel it?
Ginny closed her eyes and, in her mind, wrapped her arms around him. “Yes,” she murmured. “Yes, I can feel it.”
The coin in her hand warmed, and she opened her eyes, shattering the illusion, but it was worth it for his response.
Think about the last time we made love.
That’s what I’m pretending.
“Mmmm…” Ginny closed her eyes again and angled her head as if Harry were running his lips down her throat… warm, open-mouth kisses that teased her with promise. “Yesssss…”
The coin heated again and she peeked at it beneath her lashes.
Love you.
“Love you, too.”
That was their signal-until she fell asleep, he would renew that one phrase so she wouldn’t have to try to read it in the dark, and the coin would stay warm so she could feel his presence. He’d signed off much earlier (and with much less suggestive banter) than usual, but that wasn’t surprising given their conversation. Unsettled and anxious, she couldn’t relax into the fantasy or let herself surrender to sleep. Several times, she jerked awake, whispering his name until she felt the answering heat in her palm. Eventually, though, the pull became too strong, and she drifted into a restless slumber filled with vague dreams of searching and searching, but never finding him.
She wasn’t quite sure what pulled her back to consciousness, but she lay still, fingers curled into the Invisibility Cloak, body tensed to slip under it if someone had come in who might try to throw her out. Peeking beneath her lashes, she listened closely for a clue to what had wakened her.
“That wasn’t part of the original deal. I’m not doing it!” The loud whisper was harsh, and clearly Malfoy’s.
The message Harry put on the wall glowed in the dim light.
Q U I E T Y O U L L W A K E H E R
Malfoy dropped his voice too low for Ginny to hear, so she pulled on the Cloak and crept closer to listen. She missed Harry’s reply when Malfoy wiped the letters away too quickly for her to sort them.
“You promised,” Malfoy spat, his face etched with fury. He paced with sharp steps, flinging his hands around as if he were looking for something to punch.
S H E L L N E V E R G I V E U P
“That’s not my problem. We have a deal. I’ve kept my end of it, now you keep yours.”
A deal? Why would Harry make a deal with Malfoy, and what did it matter if Ginny would never give up?
T O O H A R D O N H E R
“Do I look like I care? No matter what I may have fooled you into thinking, I’m not a nice person.”
G A V E GINNY T H E C O I N
Malfoy slashed his hand dismissively. “A momentary lapse. Doesn’t mean anything.” He cast a glare in the general direction of Ginny’s bed. She tensed, but the deep shadows on that side of the room must’ve hidden the fact that she’d moved, and he turned back toward Harry. “I want it back.”
Ginny snorted softly. In your dreams, you prick.
“The point is, you made this bargain with the devil” -Malfoy pounded his chest- “now you’ve got to live with it.”
T A K I N G T O O L O N G
“Too bad. You agreed. Remember, I don’t have anything to lose in this deal. If you back out, I won’t hesitate for one second to-”
The Floo flared, and Malfoy waved his wand to erase Harry’s message, cutting off the argument. Ginny bit back a growl of frustration. How was she going to find out what Malfoy was holding over Harry’s head?
Hermione stepped from the fireplace looking pale and drawn, her eyes bloodshot and bruised with blue-purple shadows, like she hadn’t slept in a month-or five weeks, actually. Ron, looking equally frayed, came through and kissed her goodbye, but paused at the door with a worried scowl to watch her for a moment as she flared the torches and yawned “good morning” at Malfoy.
Watching Ron go, the truth hit Ginny like a Bludger to the gut. This-watching his friends give up their lives and health for him… again-would be eating away at Harry, and not being able to do anything about it would be driving him around the twist. That worried her more than whatever deal he’d struck with Malfoy. Harry didn’t wait well, and compounding that with worry about his loved ones meant he was much more likely to take matters into his own hands. She couldn’t bear to imagine what plan he might come up with.
So instead, Ginny considered all angles of the conversation she’d overheard. Harry obviously didn’t want Malfoy to do something, but how that fit with her unwillingness to give up made no sense. She’d wager that whatever it was had everything to do with why Malfoy kept throwing up obstacles whenever Hermione declared them ready to try the ritual again-like he was purposely dragging it out, in spite of Harry’s wish to get on with it. Malfoy was holding something over Harry’s head, and Ginny was determined to find out what it was and put an end to it
Decision made, she sneaked into the loo and quietly closed the door behind her. No more lazing about. She had work to do, and Draco bloody Malfoy had better watch out.
***
Harry did a double-take when Hermione stepped from the Floo. Merlin, she looked terrible-like she’d aged ten years overnight. He swallowed hard to keep his despair in check. This was killing his best friend. Well, all of them, really. Ron and Ginny looked almost as bad, and the Malfoys even had tiny cracks in their usually perfect façades. The constant stress and lack of progress were taking their toll, pushing bodies and emotions to the breaking point.
Harry jammed his hand into his hair and pulled. If he had the tiniest hope that they could really find a counter to this fucking curse, he might be willing to let them keep going, but he was more convinced than ever that, if the ritual didn’t work this time, he had to call a halt to this madness.
“We’ve a lot to do by this evening,” Hermione said briskly, visibly trying to shake off her fatigue as she handed Malfoy a sheaf of parchment. “I’ve reworked the arithmantic formulas to be sure we position the runes properly, but I need you to double check to be sure the calculations are correct. We’ve got to have everything ready by the time Ron gets back from his field training this evening.”
“Granger, we’ve already done these six times!” Malfoy squawked. “The ones we finished yesterday were fine. I can’t check them all again in time to do the ritual tonight. We have to put it off until tomorrow, or maybe even the next day. In fact, we should probably wait another week if you’re so damned concerned with accuracy.”
Harry stomped on the letters. D O I T N O W M A L F O Y
Malfoy opened his mouth to argue, but just then Narcissa stepped through the Floo and Ginny came out of the bathroom. Ignoring Malfoy, Hermione handed them each their own stack of parchment.
“These are copies of the ritual. Can you both, please, check the language of the incantation for alternate interpretations to be sure we’re using exactly the right phraseology? I’ve gone over it several times, but I thought fresh eyes might catch something I’ve missed.”
“Merlin, help us!” Malfoy sneered. “The mighty Granger might have missed something? However will we manage to succeed in our impossible quest?”
“Draco!” Narcissa scolded as Ginny snarled, “Stuff it, Malfoy!”
Hermione put a shaky hand to her eyes and sighed as if it was an effort to drag the breath from her lungs. Her voice held a weariness that Harry hadn’t heard since their year on the run. “We don’t have time for this. Let’s just get started. Please.”
Scowling, but cowed by the stern look from his mother, Malfoy flopped into his chair with a huff. Ginny gave Hermione a worried look and sat down across from him. Narcissa and Hermione took seats at either end of the table. With nervous energy thrumming in his veins, Harry began pacing the perimeter of the room. The tense silence was broken only by Malfoy’s periodic stream of grumbling under his breath until, after about half an hour, he raised his head and glared at Ginny.
“I want my Galleon back.”
Harry jerked to a halt. “Oh, Malfoy, please don’t.” Of course, no one could hear him.
Ginny sent a carefully blank look across the table. “No.” She bent back over her work.
Malfoy stood and leaned over the table. “It’s mine. Potter gave it to me more than three years ago. I loaned it to you out of the goodness of my heart, and now I want it back.” Narcissa put a restraining hand on his arm, but he shook it off.
Ginny stood to face him, hand in her pocket, no doubt gripping the coin. “You have a heart? Now, there’s a laugh! But I don’t recall anything about a loan, and I’m not giving it back.”
Hermione’s face was the picture of consternation, and Harry cursed his inability to come to her rescue. She was already hanging by a thread; this was the last thing she needed. He frantically tapped his coin to get Ginny’s attention.
Let him have it. I need to talk to him anyway.
Ginny glanced down at the coin in her hand. “No, Harry. Use the letter board. Anything he needs to say to you, he can say for everyone to hear.”
Malfoy made a swipe for the coin. “Give it here, you stupid bint.”
“Draco!” Narcissa said, outraged.
Hermione nearly sobbed, “Please, stop!”
Malfoy ignored them both.
Ginny backed away from the table, snatching her fist to her chest. “Why do you want it? I heard you this morning, you know. What are you holding over Harry’s head? What are you trying to hide?”
Malfoy responded with more insults, but Harry wasn’t listening anymore. She’d heard them this morning. Bollocks! Running the conversation through his mind-a couple of times, for good measure-he took cold comfort that they hadn’t said anything specific, but she’d evidently heard enough to be suspicious.
And now, she and Malfoy had wands drawn and were screaming at each other, while Hermione and Narcissa risked injury trying to intervene. Harry leaped onto the letters-S T O P-but no one paid him any mind. In helpless horror, he watched the hexes start flying. But even desperate as he was to stop the duel, he was reluctantly impressed that Ginny held her own quite well, and he let loose a tiny triumphant laugh when her Bat Bogey Hex, slipping just past the magical shield Narcissa conjured between them, hit Malfoy square in the nose.
But Harry sobered quickly. He couldn’t bear watching them tear each other apart because of him-and he had a feeling this explosion was only a hint of things to come if they didn’t have a breakthrough soon.
After Hermione disarmed her, Ginny glared daggers through the shimmering barrier. Malfoy glared back, once Narcissa had banished all the Bat Bogeys, spouting insults that drew similar threats from Ginny until Hermione slapped them both with Silencing spells.
“Enough!” Hermione’s voice quivered with rage and exhaustion. “If the two of you can’t get along, you can leave!” She slashed a hand through the air at Ginny’s outraged silent protest. “No! We have work to do. We don’t have time for this… this… childishness. If you can’t act like adults, I won’t hesitate to throw you both out and set the wards against you.” Chest heaving, she stared them down until they bowed their heads in shame. “Can you behave?” At their subdued nods, Hermione held her hand out to Ginny. “Give it here.”
Jerking her face up, Ginny clutched her fist to her chest and shook her head violently.
Hermione grimaced. “Fine, if you want to keep it, you can go.”
Ginny’s eyes went huge, her lips forming a silent no, please, no over and over again.
Hermione thrust her hand out farther. “Then give it here. You can use it at night, but I’ll keep it during the day-if Harry wants to have a private conversation with someone, he can let me know, and I’ll let them use it until he’s done.”
Harry breathed out a small sigh of relief when Ginny reluctantly handed over the coin-Hermione’s wisdom never ceased to amaze him. But then Hermione whirled to look in the direction of the letter board, where he just happened to still be standing.
“That goes for you, too, Harry. Anyone in this room should be able to hold a private conversation without you listening in.” She turned and waved her wand toward the far corner of the room encompassing Ginny’s bed, marking off a barely-visible transparent red “wall” that rose from floor to ceiling. “Conversations in that area are meant to be private. Since, the privacy ward won’t keep you out, I want your word, Harry, that you won’t listen in unless you’re invited.”
Well, that hurt. As if he’d spy on his friends like that!
“Your word, Harry. Do I have it?”
Harry growled, but stepped over to the YES.
“Good.” Hermione pocketed the coin and lifted the Silencing spells from Ginny and Malfoy before putting her wand away. “Hopefully, after this evening, none of this will even be necessary, but for now can we please get back to work?”
“Can I talk to you a minute, first?” Ginny asked, already pulling Hermione over to the designated conversation area.
Ah! Now Harry could see why Hermione had insisted on his promise. He watched them across the room, itching to go and listen-with Ginny casting repeated glances in his direction and at Malfoy, he had no doubt what they were talking about. And from the look on her face, Hermione was telling Ginny things he’d really rather she didn’t know.
To distract himself, he wandered over to the table where Narcissa was scolding Malfoy like a five year old. Harry cringed, thinking that by listening in he’d once again made Hermione’s point, but he couldn’t make himself walk away after he heard what Narcissa was saying.
“Draco, we cannot afford to offend these people! Too much is at stake.” Harry made a mental note to talk to Hermione-they didn’t need to feel like their welfare hung on perfect behavior. But Narcissa went on, “And, besides, your actions are quite unbecoming a Malfoy. Your father would-”
“Well, my father’s not here, is he? Because his actions did more to sully our precious name than anything I could dream of doing, short of putting an end to that harpy-pun intended.” His rant at an end, Malfoy seemed to notice his mother’s hurt expression and flushed in remorse. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be cruel. But I can’t stomach that bitch’s self-righteous blather. She acts like she’s protecting him when it’s actually me protecting her.”
Harry held his breath-surely Malfoy wasn’t going to say anything, was he?
Narcissa’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
Malfoy ran a weary hand over his face. “Nothing, Mother. I’m just tired and angry. We really need to end this thing today before I do something I shouldn’t.”
Narcissa studied her son curiously for a moment, but didn’t press the matter, and Harry slowly released the breath he’d been holding. He wasn’t completely convinced that Malfoy would keep his word, but the git had one thing right: This thing had to end today.
***
“He’s hiding something.” Ginny had barely crossed the privacy shield before she started unloading on Hermione. “I heard him this morning. He was threatening Harry.”
Hermione slouched against the wall as if her legs might not hold her much longer, and Ginny felt a twinge of guilt at burdening her friend further, but this was important. She couldn’t let Malfoy get away with it.
Hermione laid her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. “Harry trusts him, Ginny.”
“Why? That makes no sense at all. Why would he trust that prick?”
When Hermione’s eyes opened, they held a certainty that Ginny didn’t dare dispute. “He’s been Harry’s spy since the beginning of this investigation.”
The words sluiced down Ginny’s spine like ice water. Malfoy must’ve been the one Harry had been meeting that first night he’d disappeared. And it hurt to think Harry would tell Hermione-and probably Ron-but not tell her who he’d been going to see.
Hermione seemed to read Ginny’s mind. “He never told us, you know. I don’t think he’s ever told anyone, not even Scott. We worked it out only a couple of months ago.”
Ginny shook off her wounded feelings and gave Hermione a stubborn look. “I don’t care about whatever they’ve done in the past. Now, they’ve made some sort of deal, and Malfoy is threatening to back out of it. I don’t know what he’s holding over Harry, but it can’t be good.”
Hermione pursed her lips and stared across the room at Malfoy for several long moments, but when she finally looked back at Ginny her gaze was shuttered, as if she didn’t want her thoughts to escape. “Harry trusts Malfoy. I trust Harry. Malfoy and his mother have provided invaluable help with this project, and I refuse to send them away unless I have to. Whatever it is between Malfoy and Harry is just that-between Malfoy and Harry. We can’t be bothered with it until after we break this curse. Are you going to be able to work with him?”
Fuming, Ginny threw a vicious glance in Malfoy’s direction. The centuries-old feud between the Malfoys and the Weasleys had never meant much until she’d been personally targeted. In spite of the progress she’d made with Healer Andrews, Ginny still sometimes woke from nightmares of finding herself covered in blood and feathers with no memory of what she’d done, or crying over Harry when Fawkes didn’t make it in time to save him. The Malfoys were the only people Ginny could ever say she truly hated. Just sitting in the same room with them was agony.
But when she turned back to see the exhausted determination on Hermione’s face, she knew she had to make it work. She’d managed this far, she could see it through.
“I’ll be civil to them. But just keep him away from me.”
Hermione nodded, her shoulders slumping as if a mountain of care had just rolled off of them. “Thanks. I hope by tonight you won’t have to worry about it anymore.”
Ginny put a hand on Hermione’s arm to stop her moving from the private corner. “Are you okay? Did you sleep last night?”
With a curl of her lips that didn’t displace the anxiety in her eyes, Hermione sighed. “I rested a little, but my brain won’t really shut down until this is over.”
“Maybe you should lie down for a bit, now,” Ginny said, pointing to her sagging mattress. “You’re going to need to be in top form for the ritual, aren’t you?”
Hermione eyed the bed longingly for a moment, but shook her head. “Maybe later when we’ve got everything ready. I’m fine for now. Thanks, though.”
Not believing her for a minute, Ginny followed her back across the room, determined to push the preparations ahead as quickly as possible. She didn’t understand everything about this ritual, but she was quite certain it would likely be a physical and magical drain on everyone involved, and Hermione was in no shape right now to handle it. Hermione would have a nap soon, if it was the last thing Ginny ever did.
* * *
Harry was relieved when everyone finally got back to work, even though the tension in the room remained as thick as the fog that he watched them through. Meanwhile, time decided Harry wasn’t mad enough already and chose to all but stop. He plodded in mind-numbing circles about the chamber, letting his thoughts wander at will through his problems, but refusing to examine too closely the plan taking shape in the back of his mind-he’d deal with it when he was out of other options.
At mid-afternoon, he paused in his pacing to join Ginny and insist that Hermione lie down for a bit. Past efforts at the ritual had required crippling amounts of magical energy, and at the moment, Hermione looked like she wouldn’t survive a Lumos. When Narcissa, and even Draco (much to Ginny’s apparent shock), joined the argument against her, Hermione reluctantly consented to let Narcissa cast a light Consopius Charm so she could actually sleep for a little while but not suffer the groggy after-effects of a Dreamless Sleep Potion.
Harry sat down next to her, as close as he could get to the mattress without pushing a body part through it. With his arms wrapped around his legs, he rested his chin on his knees and watched Ginny across the room, finally allowing his brain to consider the choices ahead.
He wanted the ritual to work. More than anything, he wanted his life back, to be able to talk with his friends, to interact with the world, and most of all, to hold Ginny again. BUT… his hope that they’d be successful was fading fast. He’d listened to the whispered conversations-they were grasping at straws, making educated guesses. They were all putting on a good front, but he could tell that they were just as uncertain as he was about things going any better this time. So, the question was, what should he do about it?
He glanced down at Hermione’s furrowed brow. Her brain, no doubt, was sorting runes and incantations and calculations even in her sleep. She was a wreck, and his heart weighed a ton from watching her push herself to the point of collapse.
He lifted his eyes toward Ginny. She looked pale and weary-not as bad as that ghost on the stairs all those years ago, but he couldn’t say that she wasn’t headed in that direction, and he’d be damned if he’d be the reason for it again.
Although Ron wasn’t here right now, he always looked completely worn out from juggling training and the rescue effort, all made worse by his worry about his wife and sister. And even the Malfoys were dragging, but determined to work off their perceived debts.
Harry sighed and ran his hands into his hair. This situation was taking too great a toll, and he couldn’t let it go on. So, if the ritual didn’t work, his choice was pretty clear.
The idea had taken root after the disastrous last attempt. Stripped of his protective charms, Summers had writhed in agony for hours until Harry had come back to consciousness. That couldn’t happen again. This time, if the ritual didn’t free them, Harry would use the scenario to bring it all to an end. The ritual would be blamed, holding Malfoy to his promise of silence and eliminating the need for the Obliviations they’d argued about this morning. But more importantly, everyone could get on with their lives.
It was the perfect plan. Now Harry just had to make himself carry it out.
***
Ginny prowled nervously in her assigned corner. They wouldn’t let her help with the preparation or the casting, which made sense, much as she hated to admit it. Hermione, Ron, and Malfoy had already been through this twice and knew the drill. But stationed with Narcissa Malfoy behind a protective shield, waiting to transport Scott and anyone else who needed it to St. Mungo’s, Ginny scrutinized their every move. She’d memorized the incantation and paid close attention when Hermione went over the procedure. If anything unexpected happened, she was ready to step in to help.
While Ron leaned the wall behind his designated spot, Malfoy and Hermione placed each of the runes precisely to their calculations. Seeing them work together in somber harmony was unsettling after they way they’d argued for days about the process. The tension in the room was thick enough to spread on toast, but the ritual wasn’t completely to blame for that… Harry was.
Late in the afternoon, just as Ron had come in, Harry had requested a private conference with each of them, even the Malfoys. No one had shared what he’d said to them, but Ginny could guess, if the conversations had gone anything like the one she’d had. Of course, he’d told her he loved her-which he probably didn’t say to the Malfoys-but he’d also reiterated the things he’d said last night: If anything happens, don’t feel guilty. I’ll rest better knowing you’ll get on with your life. He seemed to be expecting the worst… and, even more disturbing, he’d accepted it.
Ginny shuddered with dread. She wasn’t going to just sit back and let it happen, and she’d reminded him of his promise not to give up. He hadn’t argued, but he hadn’t really agreed, either-and that scared her more than anything.
Hermione formed the final rune and stood. The Resurrection Stone-and presumably Harry and Scott-sat in the exact center of the circle. Grim-faced, she nodded at Ron and Malfoy. They all moved into position, equidistant around the circle, two runes separating each of them. Wands at their sides, they closed their eyes and drew deep breaths, as if cleansing their minds in preparation. Mrs. Malfoy waved her wand to dim the torches. Ginny stopped breathing altogether.
By some unheard signal, Hermione, Ron, and Malfoy raised their wands toward the center, braced their stances, and began to chant softly in unison. The words were ancient, a language Ginny had never heard, but their sing-song nature was mesmerizing. As the chant grew louder, the Stone rose slowly from the floor to hover overhead and began to spin almost lazily at first, then quickly picked up speed as it settled into position and started to glow. Ginny jumped when golden jets of light shot from the three wands to meet the stone, then arced high into the air and down to the floor to form a glowing dome that almost touched the extended wand tips. The three voices went up another notch, not quite shouting, but taking the tone of a command, as if ordering the Stone to do their bidding. It responded by sending a narrow column of light directly downward… to where Harry and Scott should be.
Narcissa gasped. Ginny suspected that the illuminated shaft hadn’t appeared during the other attempts, but she couldn’t divert her mind from the scene enough to ask. The muscles in Ron’s arm bulged with effort and Malfoy dropped his foot behind him to brace against the force of the magic they were sending upward. Hermione was truly struggling, her arm trembling and her voice quavering as she pushed herself to the limit of her endurance.
The column in the center of the dome flickered, offering a hazy glimpse of a huddled form at its base. With a start, Ginny realized what she’d seen-two bodies, one prone, one kneeling. Harry. She gave a cry and involuntarily started forward, but a cool hand on her arm kept her in place.
“Don’t!” Narcissa whispered. “Let them finish.”
The column flickered again, the huddled mass just a flash of an image that Ginny was more convinced than ever was Harry and Scott. She dug her nails into her palms and sent prayers to all of the gods of the universe.
The next time the image became visible, it held a bit longer, but Hermione had brought her free hand up to support her wand arm, which was shaking harder as the moments went by. Her face was screwed into determined concentration, sweat dripped from her brow, and her voice grew raspy with effort.
The body in the column suddenly came into view again and, as Ginny watched, gradually took on solid form. They’d done it! But wait! The shape was wrong. There was only one person-Scott.
“No!” Ginny cried, just as Hermione’s voice cracked and her wand started to dip. Leaping forward, Ginny grabbed Hermione around the waist and wrapped a hand around the one on the wand to hold it steady, adding her own magic to Hermione’s. “Keep chanting, Hermione. Harry hasn’t come through yet.”
Hermione strained to get the words out, but she kept going. Ginny watched the column, willing Harry to appear. “Harry, come on!” she shouted. “You promised! You promised you wouldn’t give up! HAR-REEEEE!”
***
Harry watched the preparations for the ritual from the center of the circle. He was truly worried for Hermione. She’d got some rest earlier, but she still looked like death warmed over, and he couldn’t bear the thought that she was going to endanger herself for him. He’d tried to talk her out of this, and at his urging, Ron had tried, too, but she’d ignored them both-just as she always had. Stubborn witch!
As the chant started and the gold dome appeared, Harry took a deep breath and fixed his eyes on Ginny. He’d thought of her in his final moments before facing Voldemort; being able to actually look at her this time felt like an extravagant gift. He just wished she didn’t look so troubled. What he wouldn’t give to see a smile on her face in his final moment, but he knew that was asking too much under the circumstances.
He noticed the look of shock on Narcissa’s face and looked up to see what had surprised her. Oh, well that was new. As the column of light descended upon them, Harry felt the tug of the magic, apparently trying to transport them back to the real world. For a moment, hope blossomed in his chest. They were going to do it! Any minute now, he and Summers would be free to return to their lives. He looked at Ginny, ready to spring into her arms the second he was-
Wait! Something was wrong. Once, twice, he felt the pull, but each time it snapped away, like a string trying to lift a too heavy rock.
He looked at Ginny again. She was watching Hermione. And Hermione looked bad, obviously struggling, supporting her wand arm, forcing her voice to keep going, keeping herself upright by sheer force of will.
The magic jerked around them again. It wasn’t strong enough to carry them both out, but maybe just one of them would have a chance. With a heavy heart, Harry knew what he had to do. Not giving himself time to debate, he rolled out of the column of light. Almost immediately, the fog swallowed Scott, freeing him from their nightmare… and leaving Harry truly alone.
But before despair had a chance to take hold, a jolt of pain worse than any Cruciatus shot through him. He writhed beneath the golden dome, feeling as if his screams and his magic were being sucked from every pore in his body. He was vaguely aware of someone calling his name, but mindless with agony, he couldn’t respond. Some primal instinct told him he needed to get back into the column. He scrabbled along the floor, but the dome had a powerful hold on him and his strength was waning. It was too much. He couldn’t do it.
Then he heard her. Ginny. She was screaming. He had to get to her. With a massive effort, he threw himself toward the light.
Everything went dark.
On to Part 2...
Prologue
Chapter 60/60: Desperate Measures
Author serendipity_50
Pairings: H/G, R/Hr
Warnings: Het sex, mild profanity, angst
Word Count this chapter: about 10,800
Era: Post-DH Pre-Epilogue
Disclaimer: The characters belong to JK Rowling. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment only.
Story Summary: Relationships are hard under normal circumstances, but Harry and Ginny don’t have the luxury of living normal lives...
Chapter Summary: Harry knows the end is near, but Ginny refuses to let him get away with anything.
Author's Notes: Ahhh... after four long years, the final chapter. I hope you find this Yuletide gift (posted in two parts) a satisfying end. But wait! There's more! I'll post the epilogue later today. And as always, Ash and Min are my heroes.
“Hermione Granger Weasley, you’d better start explaining right now!”
At the sight of Ginny, Harry froze-except for his heart, which was trying to hammer its way out of his chest.
Hermione spun, reaching out to him with upturned palms, panic in her eyes. “I didn’t tell her. I swear, Harry, I never said a word. Please… don’t do anything rash. We need to talk about this.”
Before she’d finished, Malfoy jumped from his chair, shouting, “Potter, you promised!”
Ginny watched them both with wild eyes, then turned toward him, her voice a whisper of hope. “Harry? Are you there?”
Harry wished for something to punch. She wasn’t supposed to find out, especially not like this. He should snatch off his amulet and disappear just like he’d sworn-but she looked so… lost, he just couldn’t bring himself to follow through.
Hermione glanced nervously at Ginny, then back toward him. “Harry? You’re not leaving, are you?”
Reluctantly-very reluctantly-he stepped over to NO.
Ginny gave a gasp that was close to a sob as she stared at the word on the wall. “He’s alive? He’s really alive?” The words were barely a whisper, but then, her face suddenly suffused with vivid fury, she whirled to face Hermione. “What the hell is going on? Why didn’t you tell me? How could you let me think-” She cut herself off and closed her eyes for a moment, drawing several deep breaths before drilling Hermione with a stare that threatened to maim. “Explain.”
Hermione sagged into her chair and weakly gestured Ginny toward the empty seat across the table from where Malfoy still stood. “Sit. This could take a while.” Flicking her wand a couple of times, Hermione transferred most of the books to the towering bookshelf next to the table
Casting suspicious glances between Hermione, Malfoy, and the place Harry was standing, Ginny eased into the chair, then pierced Hermione with a glare. “You’d better have a really good reason for not telling me.”
Heaving a sigh, Hermione opened her mouth… then shut it. She opened it again, then gave a humorless laugh. “I guess I do have a good reason. I can’t. The Secrecy Charm is still in place.” She turned toward Harry. “Harry, why could I tell the Malfoys, but not Ginny?”
Harry grimaced. He’d known that he was taking a risk adding the Malfoys as an exception so he could talk to them about the case, but he’d never dreamed that this would be the worst thing that could happen by not casting it on them directly The temptation to lie was strong, but Ginny wasn’t going to let this go, no matter what he did. His feet felt like lead as he started to move.
I N C L U D E D T H E M W H E N ROBARDS A N D I C A S T T H E C H A R M
“But they weren’t there when the charm was cast.” The sly gleam in Hermione’s eyes told him she hadn’t missed the flaw in the plan, either. “That means they can talk about it… right?”
Harry took his time answering-it was the only way to convey his disapproval.
YES
Ginny turned her scowl-and her wand-on Malfoy. “Talk.”
Malfoy lifted one eyebrow and smirked. “I’m not sure I like the way you’ve asked. Perhaps if you-” He stopped and pulled his Galleon from his pocket.
Stop being a prat and tell her.
With a smirk, Malfoy dropped into a deep, formal bow. “Your wish is my command, Oh Mighty Chosen One.”
Ignoring the sarcasm, Harry responded, Remember your promise-the last thing he needed was Malfoy blurting out the contingency plan-then turned his attention to Ginny.
He felt every emotion that played across her face: shock, anger, heartbreak. Malfoy gave the barest of details-that Harry and Scott had been hit with Dolohov’s curse, how Hermione had worked out the means of communication, how he and his mother had become involved, and that they hadn’t been able to find a counter-curse-but Ginny seemed to understand the long-term implications, and her anguished expression filled Harry with helpless frustration.
After the scene at St. Mungo’s and the failure of the first ritual attempt, he’d not gone to see her again; when the second attempt ended in such disaster, he’d resolved to stay away and, hopefully, make what he would eventually have to do a bit easier. But now, he ached to hold her, to reassure her, to make promises he’d never be able to keep.
“Harry?” Ginny’s voice broke on the word. “I-”
“Here,” Malfoy interrupted, holding his Galleon out to her. “Use this. It’ll be easier for him to answer.”
Taking the coin, she raised shocked eyes to Malfoy and opened her mouth, but before she could speak, he was headed out the door. She gaped after him until Hermione stood.
“I’ll give you a few minutes alone,” she said and hugged Ginny hard before scurrying after Malfoy.
Grateful that he didn’t have to try to talk past the knot in his throat, Harry tapped his coin. At least now he could be sure to say it before it was too late: I love you.
Ginny started crying in earnest. Startled by her open distress, Harry jumped to comfort her, then stomped and swore viciously when his arm passed through her shoulders. He sank to his knees in front of her, forcing back the tightness in his throat. He was glad she didn’t feel the need to keep up her bravado in front of him, but he would give anything if he could keep her from feeling the pain in the first place. His own eyes blurred. This was just too hard. Why did she have to come nosing around
“I love you, too,” she finally choked out. “Are you okay?”
Harry closed his eyes and tried to collect his thoughts. He couldn’t tell her the truth, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie, either.
I’m fine. I didn’t want you to know.
She gasped and glared at the coin. “That’s why Hermione didn’t tell me, isn’t it? You made her promise, didn’t you?”
Yes. Don’t be angry with her.
“But why? Why wouldn’t you want me to know?” Her breath hitched and another tear trailed down her cheek.
That’s why. Too hard for you.
Her head snapped up. “Don’t you dare try to make decisions about what I can and can’t handle. I get enough of that from my family, I don’t need it from you, too.”
There was that blazing look he loved. Harry knew she didn’t need protecting, but the need to try was beyond his control. He burned with a fierce longing to kiss her senseless. Well, actually, to do more than kiss her… much more. His mind raced with desire, even if his body couldn’t respond. Fucking Dolohov! Right now Harry wanted to cut off something much more appropriate than the bastard’s head. But he squashed his anger; Ginny was waiting for an answer.
Didn’t want to hurt you again.
Guess I can’t win either way.
She gave a soggy snort. “I know you meant well, but I’d rather know the truth.”
They sat in silence for several long moments as Ginny slowly curled in on herself. Her rough whisper finally broke the peace, stabbing at Harry’s heart. “Hermione… she’s going to fix this… isn’t she?” As she spoke, she stared at the coin, turning it over and over as if she might find the right answer on the other side.
Harry dropped his head into his hands. He needed to tell her where this might lead. She’d just said she wanted the truth, but she looked so vulnerable, he couldn’t make himself form the words. He finally settled for She’s researching it.
Ginny straightened and looked over his head toward the letter board, as if she could really see him there. The blazing look made another appearance, but this time it sent a jolt of dread through him.
“I want to help.” Harry frantically tapped his coin-NO!-but she ignored it. “I’m going to take a leave of absence from the team. I’m useless to them right now, anyway. If Malfoy can help with research, then I can, too.”
Harry tried to jump in front of her as she covered the distance to the door, then stomped in impotent fury as she walked right through him and stuck her head out to call Hermione. With her here, how was he ever going to be able to do what was looking more likely by the day? In the end, it would just be harder on both of them.
***
Ginny had expected at least token resistance when she announced that she was staying to help, but Hermione seemed more than happy about the idea-almost too eager, in fact. And when Ron came in later, he accepted her presence with sad resignation, then sent an owl to let the rest of the family know where she was.
But Malfoy and, surprisingly, Harry were a completely different story.
Malfoy’s opposition Ginny could understand-he was a prick, after all, and was probably working to sabotage the rescue anyway; she still wasn’t completely sure why he was even here. But Harry? She could think of only one reason he wouldn’t want her around: He was planning to do something she wouldn’t like, no matter what promises he’d made that last night they were together. She might not be able to see or hear him, but he was damn sure going to have to answer for any stupid decisions. Now that she’d found him again, she wasn’t about to let him out of her si… erm, presence, if she could help it.
Of course, Ginny knew being here could also cause problems; almost immediately, Hermione had handed over Harry’s Invisibility Cloak with a quiet warning to “disappear” if anyone besides a Weasley or a Malfoy came in. Taking the caution to heart, Ginny kept the Cloak close at hand and stuck to the shadows in the room-a sound decision with the Head Auror popping in at random times nearly every day to check on their progress.
But she also decided to take no chances that someone might decide to block her return if she left. With a sheaf of parchment transfigured into a lumpy mattress, food brought in by Harry’s house-elf (and why was Malfoy’s mother ordering him about?), and freshening charms in the loo, Ginny made herself right at home.
Her first research assignment had been an eye-opener.
“Here,” Hermione had said, shoving a huge stack of parchment at her. “The Secrecy Charm should allow you to read these since you’re in this room. Let Malfoy know if you have any questions.”
“These” happened to be all of their notes on Dolohov’s curse, and they held Ginny’s rapt attention for nearly a day. Malfoy’s terse recounting of events hadn’t even scratched the surface of the horrors Harry and Scott were enduring. And it would all be so much worse if they hadn’t been wearing those tracking amulets. Scott’s inability to heal was the most terrifying, though, making Ginny’s heart ache for both him and Val. What would’ve happened to him if Harry hadn’t been there to cast the charms to keep him from suffering? Ginny was grateful that Hermione hadn’t told them the whole story that day at the pitch-it would’ve sent Val over the edge
Reluctantly, Ginny had to admit that she could see the reasons why some secrets really needed to be kept. She didn’t like the idea of not knowing everything Harry was up to, but she was beginning to understand that he wasn’t hiding things to hurt her… and that knowing everything would probably hurt more than help. It was something they were going to have to discuss-and probably work on… a lot-when this was all over.
The rest of the week had passed like treacle in winter. Ginny had expected the work to be dull, but leafing through ancient books, looking for anything that might be related to a curse they couldn’t even define all seemed rather pointless. Not that she had any better ideas. Even if she wasn’t stupid-her NEWT scores were well above average-next to Hermione, who of course was brilliant, and Malfoy, who was a close second (much as she hated to admit it), Ginny felt like a dolt. Even Mrs. Malfoy seemed to understand the magical theory better than Ginny ever would. Ginny started thinking she’d be helping more if she just kept the room tidy and stayed out of their way.
By Friday, after listening to Malfoy and Hermione’s incessant arguments about the merits and faults of various spells and rituals, Ginny itched to ask a million questions about the Malfoys, the curse, and more importantly, how Harry was really doing. Not that they-or anyone here-could ever have a private conversation. Even with the Secrecy Charm relaxing more the longer Ginny was involved, the fact that Harry could listen undetected to any conversation, anywhere, regardless of wards, meant that getting any real answers was out of the question.
And, of course, Harry wouldn’t give her any straight answers, either. He just hinted at things that made her gut churn endlessly. Like tonight. After everyone else had gone home, his first question made her heart clench.
What if the ritual doesn’t work?
Huddled on her makeshift bed in the darkest corner, wrapped in her cloak and Warming and Disillusionment charms (in case anyone came in while she was asleep), she glared at Harry’s question on the coin even as she tried to school her face-no telling what stupid idea he might get in his head if he thought she was upset.
“It’s going to be all right, Harry. We’ve worked out the problems. It won’t be like last time.”
According to Hermione’s notes, the first attempt at the ritual had been practically useless, except to guide their hypothesis about the proper way to proceed… or so they’d thought. The second attempt had nearly been disastrous-the dry narrative of the notes had downplayed the sequence of events, but Malfoy had dropped enough hints for Ginny to piece things together. Apparently, whatever they’d done had blown Hermione, Ron, and Malfoy across the room, left Harry unconscious for several hours, and nearly killed Scott. But at least the Resurrection Stone-the key to the whole ritual-hadn’t been damaged, so they could try again. Tomorrow.
The coin warmed again, bringing Ginny from her musings.
But what if it doesn’t work?
“Then we’ll try something else.”
And if that doesn’t work?
Exasperated, Ginny huffed. “We’ll keep trying until we find something that does.”
Can’t keep trying forever.
“Why not?”
You need to move on.
Hermione and Ron, too.
Ginny stared at the words as frozen fingers closed around her heart. “No,” she breathed. “No, I can’t. I won’t. We’ll find a way out of this, Harry. I won’t give up. And you’d better not, either. You promised. You said you’d never again go down without a fight.”
The coin grew cold in her palm, and she began to wonder if he’d left. “Harry?” She had half pushed herself up to go and check the map when the Galleon finally heated against her skin.
I remember.
She waited several moments, certain he wasn’t finished and dreading what was to come.
But we might have to give up one day.
Ginny shook her head, unable to speak over the fear choking her.
When the time comes, don’t feel guilty.
I want you to keep living… to move on.
“Why do you keep saying that?” She was angry now, in spite of the tears pressing at her eyes. “I don’t want to move on without you! We’re going to fix this. We’re going to bring you both back, and I don’t want you to say another word otherwise ever again, do you understand me?”
The coin cooled in her hand, igniting her worries again before it warmed back to life.
You should rest.
Panic surged in Ginny’s chest. “Where are you going? What are you going to do?” A long moment passed with no response. “Harry, please. Please don’t leave. Promise you’ll stay with me.”
The coin seemed to take on an unnatural chill. Ginny watched it, willing him to give the right answer.
I promise I’ll stay with you tonight.
Tonight. The message was clear. But before she could form an answer, his next message appeared.
Right now, I want to lie beside you and pretend.
Ginny let out a shuddering breath. She didn’t really want to let this go, but allowing him to think he’d won for the moment would keep him here more effectively than arguing about whatever ridiculous notion he’d got in his head. He’d said he would stay, and for now she trusted him. Besides, this game they played most nights was inexplicably comforting, even if it left her yearning for him.
“Pretend what?”
That I’m kissing you. Can you feel it?
Ginny closed her eyes and, in her mind, wrapped her arms around him. “Yes,” she murmured. “Yes, I can feel it.”
The coin in her hand warmed, and she opened her eyes, shattering the illusion, but it was worth it for his response.
Think about the last time we made love.
That’s what I’m pretending.
“Mmmm…” Ginny closed her eyes again and angled her head as if Harry were running his lips down her throat… warm, open-mouth kisses that teased her with promise. “Yesssss…”
The coin heated again and she peeked at it beneath her lashes.
Love you.
“Love you, too.”
That was their signal-until she fell asleep, he would renew that one phrase so she wouldn’t have to try to read it in the dark, and the coin would stay warm so she could feel his presence. He’d signed off much earlier (and with much less suggestive banter) than usual, but that wasn’t surprising given their conversation. Unsettled and anxious, she couldn’t relax into the fantasy or let herself surrender to sleep. Several times, she jerked awake, whispering his name until she felt the answering heat in her palm. Eventually, though, the pull became too strong, and she drifted into a restless slumber filled with vague dreams of searching and searching, but never finding him.
She wasn’t quite sure what pulled her back to consciousness, but she lay still, fingers curled into the Invisibility Cloak, body tensed to slip under it if someone had come in who might try to throw her out. Peeking beneath her lashes, she listened closely for a clue to what had wakened her.
“That wasn’t part of the original deal. I’m not doing it!” The loud whisper was harsh, and clearly Malfoy’s.
The message Harry put on the wall glowed in the dim light.
Q U I E T Y O U L L W A K E H E R
Malfoy dropped his voice too low for Ginny to hear, so she pulled on the Cloak and crept closer to listen. She missed Harry’s reply when Malfoy wiped the letters away too quickly for her to sort them.
“You promised,” Malfoy spat, his face etched with fury. He paced with sharp steps, flinging his hands around as if he were looking for something to punch.
S H E L L N E V E R G I V E U P
“That’s not my problem. We have a deal. I’ve kept my end of it, now you keep yours.”
A deal? Why would Harry make a deal with Malfoy, and what did it matter if Ginny would never give up?
T O O H A R D O N H E R
“Do I look like I care? No matter what I may have fooled you into thinking, I’m not a nice person.”
G A V E GINNY T H E C O I N
Malfoy slashed his hand dismissively. “A momentary lapse. Doesn’t mean anything.” He cast a glare in the general direction of Ginny’s bed. She tensed, but the deep shadows on that side of the room must’ve hidden the fact that she’d moved, and he turned back toward Harry. “I want it back.”
Ginny snorted softly. In your dreams, you prick.
“The point is, you made this bargain with the devil” -Malfoy pounded his chest- “now you’ve got to live with it.”
T A K I N G T O O L O N G
“Too bad. You agreed. Remember, I don’t have anything to lose in this deal. If you back out, I won’t hesitate for one second to-”
The Floo flared, and Malfoy waved his wand to erase Harry’s message, cutting off the argument. Ginny bit back a growl of frustration. How was she going to find out what Malfoy was holding over Harry’s head?
Hermione stepped from the fireplace looking pale and drawn, her eyes bloodshot and bruised with blue-purple shadows, like she hadn’t slept in a month-or five weeks, actually. Ron, looking equally frayed, came through and kissed her goodbye, but paused at the door with a worried scowl to watch her for a moment as she flared the torches and yawned “good morning” at Malfoy.
Watching Ron go, the truth hit Ginny like a Bludger to the gut. This-watching his friends give up their lives and health for him… again-would be eating away at Harry, and not being able to do anything about it would be driving him around the twist. That worried her more than whatever deal he’d struck with Malfoy. Harry didn’t wait well, and compounding that with worry about his loved ones meant he was much more likely to take matters into his own hands. She couldn’t bear to imagine what plan he might come up with.
So instead, Ginny considered all angles of the conversation she’d overheard. Harry obviously didn’t want Malfoy to do something, but how that fit with her unwillingness to give up made no sense. She’d wager that whatever it was had everything to do with why Malfoy kept throwing up obstacles whenever Hermione declared them ready to try the ritual again-like he was purposely dragging it out, in spite of Harry’s wish to get on with it. Malfoy was holding something over Harry’s head, and Ginny was determined to find out what it was and put an end to it
Decision made, she sneaked into the loo and quietly closed the door behind her. No more lazing about. She had work to do, and Draco bloody Malfoy had better watch out.
***
Harry did a double-take when Hermione stepped from the Floo. Merlin, she looked terrible-like she’d aged ten years overnight. He swallowed hard to keep his despair in check. This was killing his best friend. Well, all of them, really. Ron and Ginny looked almost as bad, and the Malfoys even had tiny cracks in their usually perfect façades. The constant stress and lack of progress were taking their toll, pushing bodies and emotions to the breaking point.
Harry jammed his hand into his hair and pulled. If he had the tiniest hope that they could really find a counter to this fucking curse, he might be willing to let them keep going, but he was more convinced than ever that, if the ritual didn’t work this time, he had to call a halt to this madness.
“We’ve a lot to do by this evening,” Hermione said briskly, visibly trying to shake off her fatigue as she handed Malfoy a sheaf of parchment. “I’ve reworked the arithmantic formulas to be sure we position the runes properly, but I need you to double check to be sure the calculations are correct. We’ve got to have everything ready by the time Ron gets back from his field training this evening.”
“Granger, we’ve already done these six times!” Malfoy squawked. “The ones we finished yesterday were fine. I can’t check them all again in time to do the ritual tonight. We have to put it off until tomorrow, or maybe even the next day. In fact, we should probably wait another week if you’re so damned concerned with accuracy.”
Harry stomped on the letters. D O I T N O W M A L F O Y
Malfoy opened his mouth to argue, but just then Narcissa stepped through the Floo and Ginny came out of the bathroom. Ignoring Malfoy, Hermione handed them each their own stack of parchment.
“These are copies of the ritual. Can you both, please, check the language of the incantation for alternate interpretations to be sure we’re using exactly the right phraseology? I’ve gone over it several times, but I thought fresh eyes might catch something I’ve missed.”
“Merlin, help us!” Malfoy sneered. “The mighty Granger might have missed something? However will we manage to succeed in our impossible quest?”
“Draco!” Narcissa scolded as Ginny snarled, “Stuff it, Malfoy!”
Hermione put a shaky hand to her eyes and sighed as if it was an effort to drag the breath from her lungs. Her voice held a weariness that Harry hadn’t heard since their year on the run. “We don’t have time for this. Let’s just get started. Please.”
Scowling, but cowed by the stern look from his mother, Malfoy flopped into his chair with a huff. Ginny gave Hermione a worried look and sat down across from him. Narcissa and Hermione took seats at either end of the table. With nervous energy thrumming in his veins, Harry began pacing the perimeter of the room. The tense silence was broken only by Malfoy’s periodic stream of grumbling under his breath until, after about half an hour, he raised his head and glared at Ginny.
“I want my Galleon back.”
Harry jerked to a halt. “Oh, Malfoy, please don’t.” Of course, no one could hear him.
Ginny sent a carefully blank look across the table. “No.” She bent back over her work.
Malfoy stood and leaned over the table. “It’s mine. Potter gave it to me more than three years ago. I loaned it to you out of the goodness of my heart, and now I want it back.” Narcissa put a restraining hand on his arm, but he shook it off.
Ginny stood to face him, hand in her pocket, no doubt gripping the coin. “You have a heart? Now, there’s a laugh! But I don’t recall anything about a loan, and I’m not giving it back.”
Hermione’s face was the picture of consternation, and Harry cursed his inability to come to her rescue. She was already hanging by a thread; this was the last thing she needed. He frantically tapped his coin to get Ginny’s attention.
Let him have it. I need to talk to him anyway.
Ginny glanced down at the coin in her hand. “No, Harry. Use the letter board. Anything he needs to say to you, he can say for everyone to hear.”
Malfoy made a swipe for the coin. “Give it here, you stupid bint.”
“Draco!” Narcissa said, outraged.
Hermione nearly sobbed, “Please, stop!”
Malfoy ignored them both.
Ginny backed away from the table, snatching her fist to her chest. “Why do you want it? I heard you this morning, you know. What are you holding over Harry’s head? What are you trying to hide?”
Malfoy responded with more insults, but Harry wasn’t listening anymore. She’d heard them this morning. Bollocks! Running the conversation through his mind-a couple of times, for good measure-he took cold comfort that they hadn’t said anything specific, but she’d evidently heard enough to be suspicious.
And now, she and Malfoy had wands drawn and were screaming at each other, while Hermione and Narcissa risked injury trying to intervene. Harry leaped onto the letters-S T O P-but no one paid him any mind. In helpless horror, he watched the hexes start flying. But even desperate as he was to stop the duel, he was reluctantly impressed that Ginny held her own quite well, and he let loose a tiny triumphant laugh when her Bat Bogey Hex, slipping just past the magical shield Narcissa conjured between them, hit Malfoy square in the nose.
But Harry sobered quickly. He couldn’t bear watching them tear each other apart because of him-and he had a feeling this explosion was only a hint of things to come if they didn’t have a breakthrough soon.
After Hermione disarmed her, Ginny glared daggers through the shimmering barrier. Malfoy glared back, once Narcissa had banished all the Bat Bogeys, spouting insults that drew similar threats from Ginny until Hermione slapped them both with Silencing spells.
“Enough!” Hermione’s voice quivered with rage and exhaustion. “If the two of you can’t get along, you can leave!” She slashed a hand through the air at Ginny’s outraged silent protest. “No! We have work to do. We don’t have time for this… this… childishness. If you can’t act like adults, I won’t hesitate to throw you both out and set the wards against you.” Chest heaving, she stared them down until they bowed their heads in shame. “Can you behave?” At their subdued nods, Hermione held her hand out to Ginny. “Give it here.”
Jerking her face up, Ginny clutched her fist to her chest and shook her head violently.
Hermione grimaced. “Fine, if you want to keep it, you can go.”
Ginny’s eyes went huge, her lips forming a silent no, please, no over and over again.
Hermione thrust her hand out farther. “Then give it here. You can use it at night, but I’ll keep it during the day-if Harry wants to have a private conversation with someone, he can let me know, and I’ll let them use it until he’s done.”
Harry breathed out a small sigh of relief when Ginny reluctantly handed over the coin-Hermione’s wisdom never ceased to amaze him. But then Hermione whirled to look in the direction of the letter board, where he just happened to still be standing.
“That goes for you, too, Harry. Anyone in this room should be able to hold a private conversation without you listening in.” She turned and waved her wand toward the far corner of the room encompassing Ginny’s bed, marking off a barely-visible transparent red “wall” that rose from floor to ceiling. “Conversations in that area are meant to be private. Since, the privacy ward won’t keep you out, I want your word, Harry, that you won’t listen in unless you’re invited.”
Well, that hurt. As if he’d spy on his friends like that!
“Your word, Harry. Do I have it?”
Harry growled, but stepped over to the YES.
“Good.” Hermione pocketed the coin and lifted the Silencing spells from Ginny and Malfoy before putting her wand away. “Hopefully, after this evening, none of this will even be necessary, but for now can we please get back to work?”
“Can I talk to you a minute, first?” Ginny asked, already pulling Hermione over to the designated conversation area.
Ah! Now Harry could see why Hermione had insisted on his promise. He watched them across the room, itching to go and listen-with Ginny casting repeated glances in his direction and at Malfoy, he had no doubt what they were talking about. And from the look on her face, Hermione was telling Ginny things he’d really rather she didn’t know.
To distract himself, he wandered over to the table where Narcissa was scolding Malfoy like a five year old. Harry cringed, thinking that by listening in he’d once again made Hermione’s point, but he couldn’t make himself walk away after he heard what Narcissa was saying.
“Draco, we cannot afford to offend these people! Too much is at stake.” Harry made a mental note to talk to Hermione-they didn’t need to feel like their welfare hung on perfect behavior. But Narcissa went on, “And, besides, your actions are quite unbecoming a Malfoy. Your father would-”
“Well, my father’s not here, is he? Because his actions did more to sully our precious name than anything I could dream of doing, short of putting an end to that harpy-pun intended.” His rant at an end, Malfoy seemed to notice his mother’s hurt expression and flushed in remorse. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be cruel. But I can’t stomach that bitch’s self-righteous blather. She acts like she’s protecting him when it’s actually me protecting her.”
Harry held his breath-surely Malfoy wasn’t going to say anything, was he?
Narcissa’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
Malfoy ran a weary hand over his face. “Nothing, Mother. I’m just tired and angry. We really need to end this thing today before I do something I shouldn’t.”
Narcissa studied her son curiously for a moment, but didn’t press the matter, and Harry slowly released the breath he’d been holding. He wasn’t completely convinced that Malfoy would keep his word, but the git had one thing right: This thing had to end today.
***
“He’s hiding something.” Ginny had barely crossed the privacy shield before she started unloading on Hermione. “I heard him this morning. He was threatening Harry.”
Hermione slouched against the wall as if her legs might not hold her much longer, and Ginny felt a twinge of guilt at burdening her friend further, but this was important. She couldn’t let Malfoy get away with it.
Hermione laid her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. “Harry trusts him, Ginny.”
“Why? That makes no sense at all. Why would he trust that prick?”
When Hermione’s eyes opened, they held a certainty that Ginny didn’t dare dispute. “He’s been Harry’s spy since the beginning of this investigation.”
The words sluiced down Ginny’s spine like ice water. Malfoy must’ve been the one Harry had been meeting that first night he’d disappeared. And it hurt to think Harry would tell Hermione-and probably Ron-but not tell her who he’d been going to see.
Hermione seemed to read Ginny’s mind. “He never told us, you know. I don’t think he’s ever told anyone, not even Scott. We worked it out only a couple of months ago.”
Ginny shook off her wounded feelings and gave Hermione a stubborn look. “I don’t care about whatever they’ve done in the past. Now, they’ve made some sort of deal, and Malfoy is threatening to back out of it. I don’t know what he’s holding over Harry, but it can’t be good.”
Hermione pursed her lips and stared across the room at Malfoy for several long moments, but when she finally looked back at Ginny her gaze was shuttered, as if she didn’t want her thoughts to escape. “Harry trusts Malfoy. I trust Harry. Malfoy and his mother have provided invaluable help with this project, and I refuse to send them away unless I have to. Whatever it is between Malfoy and Harry is just that-between Malfoy and Harry. We can’t be bothered with it until after we break this curse. Are you going to be able to work with him?”
Fuming, Ginny threw a vicious glance in Malfoy’s direction. The centuries-old feud between the Malfoys and the Weasleys had never meant much until she’d been personally targeted. In spite of the progress she’d made with Healer Andrews, Ginny still sometimes woke from nightmares of finding herself covered in blood and feathers with no memory of what she’d done, or crying over Harry when Fawkes didn’t make it in time to save him. The Malfoys were the only people Ginny could ever say she truly hated. Just sitting in the same room with them was agony.
But when she turned back to see the exhausted determination on Hermione’s face, she knew she had to make it work. She’d managed this far, she could see it through.
“I’ll be civil to them. But just keep him away from me.”
Hermione nodded, her shoulders slumping as if a mountain of care had just rolled off of them. “Thanks. I hope by tonight you won’t have to worry about it anymore.”
Ginny put a hand on Hermione’s arm to stop her moving from the private corner. “Are you okay? Did you sleep last night?”
With a curl of her lips that didn’t displace the anxiety in her eyes, Hermione sighed. “I rested a little, but my brain won’t really shut down until this is over.”
“Maybe you should lie down for a bit, now,” Ginny said, pointing to her sagging mattress. “You’re going to need to be in top form for the ritual, aren’t you?”
Hermione eyed the bed longingly for a moment, but shook her head. “Maybe later when we’ve got everything ready. I’m fine for now. Thanks, though.”
Not believing her for a minute, Ginny followed her back across the room, determined to push the preparations ahead as quickly as possible. She didn’t understand everything about this ritual, but she was quite certain it would likely be a physical and magical drain on everyone involved, and Hermione was in no shape right now to handle it. Hermione would have a nap soon, if it was the last thing Ginny ever did.
* * *
Harry was relieved when everyone finally got back to work, even though the tension in the room remained as thick as the fog that he watched them through. Meanwhile, time decided Harry wasn’t mad enough already and chose to all but stop. He plodded in mind-numbing circles about the chamber, letting his thoughts wander at will through his problems, but refusing to examine too closely the plan taking shape in the back of his mind-he’d deal with it when he was out of other options.
At mid-afternoon, he paused in his pacing to join Ginny and insist that Hermione lie down for a bit. Past efforts at the ritual had required crippling amounts of magical energy, and at the moment, Hermione looked like she wouldn’t survive a Lumos. When Narcissa, and even Draco (much to Ginny’s apparent shock), joined the argument against her, Hermione reluctantly consented to let Narcissa cast a light Consopius Charm so she could actually sleep for a little while but not suffer the groggy after-effects of a Dreamless Sleep Potion.
Harry sat down next to her, as close as he could get to the mattress without pushing a body part through it. With his arms wrapped around his legs, he rested his chin on his knees and watched Ginny across the room, finally allowing his brain to consider the choices ahead.
He wanted the ritual to work. More than anything, he wanted his life back, to be able to talk with his friends, to interact with the world, and most of all, to hold Ginny again. BUT… his hope that they’d be successful was fading fast. He’d listened to the whispered conversations-they were grasping at straws, making educated guesses. They were all putting on a good front, but he could tell that they were just as uncertain as he was about things going any better this time. So, the question was, what should he do about it?
He glanced down at Hermione’s furrowed brow. Her brain, no doubt, was sorting runes and incantations and calculations even in her sleep. She was a wreck, and his heart weighed a ton from watching her push herself to the point of collapse.
He lifted his eyes toward Ginny. She looked pale and weary-not as bad as that ghost on the stairs all those years ago, but he couldn’t say that she wasn’t headed in that direction, and he’d be damned if he’d be the reason for it again.
Although Ron wasn’t here right now, he always looked completely worn out from juggling training and the rescue effort, all made worse by his worry about his wife and sister. And even the Malfoys were dragging, but determined to work off their perceived debts.
Harry sighed and ran his hands into his hair. This situation was taking too great a toll, and he couldn’t let it go on. So, if the ritual didn’t work, his choice was pretty clear.
The idea had taken root after the disastrous last attempt. Stripped of his protective charms, Summers had writhed in agony for hours until Harry had come back to consciousness. That couldn’t happen again. This time, if the ritual didn’t free them, Harry would use the scenario to bring it all to an end. The ritual would be blamed, holding Malfoy to his promise of silence and eliminating the need for the Obliviations they’d argued about this morning. But more importantly, everyone could get on with their lives.
It was the perfect plan. Now Harry just had to make himself carry it out.
***
Ginny prowled nervously in her assigned corner. They wouldn’t let her help with the preparation or the casting, which made sense, much as she hated to admit it. Hermione, Ron, and Malfoy had already been through this twice and knew the drill. But stationed with Narcissa Malfoy behind a protective shield, waiting to transport Scott and anyone else who needed it to St. Mungo’s, Ginny scrutinized their every move. She’d memorized the incantation and paid close attention when Hermione went over the procedure. If anything unexpected happened, she was ready to step in to help.
While Ron leaned the wall behind his designated spot, Malfoy and Hermione placed each of the runes precisely to their calculations. Seeing them work together in somber harmony was unsettling after they way they’d argued for days about the process. The tension in the room was thick enough to spread on toast, but the ritual wasn’t completely to blame for that… Harry was.
Late in the afternoon, just as Ron had come in, Harry had requested a private conference with each of them, even the Malfoys. No one had shared what he’d said to them, but Ginny could guess, if the conversations had gone anything like the one she’d had. Of course, he’d told her he loved her-which he probably didn’t say to the Malfoys-but he’d also reiterated the things he’d said last night: If anything happens, don’t feel guilty. I’ll rest better knowing you’ll get on with your life. He seemed to be expecting the worst… and, even more disturbing, he’d accepted it.
Ginny shuddered with dread. She wasn’t going to just sit back and let it happen, and she’d reminded him of his promise not to give up. He hadn’t argued, but he hadn’t really agreed, either-and that scared her more than anything.
Hermione formed the final rune and stood. The Resurrection Stone-and presumably Harry and Scott-sat in the exact center of the circle. Grim-faced, she nodded at Ron and Malfoy. They all moved into position, equidistant around the circle, two runes separating each of them. Wands at their sides, they closed their eyes and drew deep breaths, as if cleansing their minds in preparation. Mrs. Malfoy waved her wand to dim the torches. Ginny stopped breathing altogether.
By some unheard signal, Hermione, Ron, and Malfoy raised their wands toward the center, braced their stances, and began to chant softly in unison. The words were ancient, a language Ginny had never heard, but their sing-song nature was mesmerizing. As the chant grew louder, the Stone rose slowly from the floor to hover overhead and began to spin almost lazily at first, then quickly picked up speed as it settled into position and started to glow. Ginny jumped when golden jets of light shot from the three wands to meet the stone, then arced high into the air and down to the floor to form a glowing dome that almost touched the extended wand tips. The three voices went up another notch, not quite shouting, but taking the tone of a command, as if ordering the Stone to do their bidding. It responded by sending a narrow column of light directly downward… to where Harry and Scott should be.
Narcissa gasped. Ginny suspected that the illuminated shaft hadn’t appeared during the other attempts, but she couldn’t divert her mind from the scene enough to ask. The muscles in Ron’s arm bulged with effort and Malfoy dropped his foot behind him to brace against the force of the magic they were sending upward. Hermione was truly struggling, her arm trembling and her voice quavering as she pushed herself to the limit of her endurance.
The column in the center of the dome flickered, offering a hazy glimpse of a huddled form at its base. With a start, Ginny realized what she’d seen-two bodies, one prone, one kneeling. Harry. She gave a cry and involuntarily started forward, but a cool hand on her arm kept her in place.
“Don’t!” Narcissa whispered. “Let them finish.”
The column flickered again, the huddled mass just a flash of an image that Ginny was more convinced than ever was Harry and Scott. She dug her nails into her palms and sent prayers to all of the gods of the universe.
The next time the image became visible, it held a bit longer, but Hermione had brought her free hand up to support her wand arm, which was shaking harder as the moments went by. Her face was screwed into determined concentration, sweat dripped from her brow, and her voice grew raspy with effort.
The body in the column suddenly came into view again and, as Ginny watched, gradually took on solid form. They’d done it! But wait! The shape was wrong. There was only one person-Scott.
“No!” Ginny cried, just as Hermione’s voice cracked and her wand started to dip. Leaping forward, Ginny grabbed Hermione around the waist and wrapped a hand around the one on the wand to hold it steady, adding her own magic to Hermione’s. “Keep chanting, Hermione. Harry hasn’t come through yet.”
Hermione strained to get the words out, but she kept going. Ginny watched the column, willing Harry to appear. “Harry, come on!” she shouted. “You promised! You promised you wouldn’t give up! HAR-REEEEE!”
***
Harry watched the preparations for the ritual from the center of the circle. He was truly worried for Hermione. She’d got some rest earlier, but she still looked like death warmed over, and he couldn’t bear the thought that she was going to endanger herself for him. He’d tried to talk her out of this, and at his urging, Ron had tried, too, but she’d ignored them both-just as she always had. Stubborn witch!
As the chant started and the gold dome appeared, Harry took a deep breath and fixed his eyes on Ginny. He’d thought of her in his final moments before facing Voldemort; being able to actually look at her this time felt like an extravagant gift. He just wished she didn’t look so troubled. What he wouldn’t give to see a smile on her face in his final moment, but he knew that was asking too much under the circumstances.
He noticed the look of shock on Narcissa’s face and looked up to see what had surprised her. Oh, well that was new. As the column of light descended upon them, Harry felt the tug of the magic, apparently trying to transport them back to the real world. For a moment, hope blossomed in his chest. They were going to do it! Any minute now, he and Summers would be free to return to their lives. He looked at Ginny, ready to spring into her arms the second he was-
Wait! Something was wrong. Once, twice, he felt the pull, but each time it snapped away, like a string trying to lift a too heavy rock.
He looked at Ginny again. She was watching Hermione. And Hermione looked bad, obviously struggling, supporting her wand arm, forcing her voice to keep going, keeping herself upright by sheer force of will.
The magic jerked around them again. It wasn’t strong enough to carry them both out, but maybe just one of them would have a chance. With a heavy heart, Harry knew what he had to do. Not giving himself time to debate, he rolled out of the column of light. Almost immediately, the fog swallowed Scott, freeing him from their nightmare… and leaving Harry truly alone.
But before despair had a chance to take hold, a jolt of pain worse than any Cruciatus shot through him. He writhed beneath the golden dome, feeling as if his screams and his magic were being sucked from every pore in his body. He was vaguely aware of someone calling his name, but mindless with agony, he couldn’t respond. Some primal instinct told him he needed to get back into the column. He scrabbled along the floor, but the dome had a powerful hold on him and his strength was waning. It was too much. He couldn’t do it.
Then he heard her. Ginny. She was screaming. He had to get to her. With a massive effort, he threw himself toward the light.
Everything went dark.
On to Part 2...
Prologue