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Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived | ||||||
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Category: Post-HBP Characters:Albus Dumbledore, Draco Malfoy, Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Minerva McGonagall, Neville Longbottom, Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin, Ron Weasley Genres: General Warnings: Death, Sexual Situations, Violence Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 28 Summary: This is my version of Book Seven. It picks up where Book Six left off, and follows Harry and his friends through their trials and tribulations. Everyone know that Harry has to defeat Voldemort, but does he have to do it alone, without love? All of your favorite characters are here. This story follows canon closely. H/G, R/Hr, and other pairings are included. Hitcount: Story Total: 86976; Chapter Total: 3964 Author's Notes: Author’s Note: J.K. Rowling created the world in which I work. Everything Harry is hers alone. Back to Donegal Words & music: Steve Graham Copyright: @1942 Leeds Music Corp. New York |
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“We’ve covered everything I can possibly imagine happening,” Ginny muttered wearily. “You don’t have much of an imagination then,” Ron observed. “We still haven’t covered what we’re going to do if…” “I think we have,” Harry interjected tiredly. “We’ve been at this for hours, Ron,” Hermione yawned, trying not to complain. “What time is the meeting tomorrow morning?” Luna asked anxiously, twisting Neville’s arm so she could see the Muggle wristwatch he wore when he was not working in the Greenhouses. “Eleven,” Ginny answered promptly, stifling a huge yawn. “That’s only nine hours away, Ron.” She looked at him crossly while pointing at Neville’s watch. “Some of us might want to sleep before we take on the entire Ministry of Magic.” “You make it sound so bleak,” Harry grinned. “All you have to do is find an ancient book that could make you go blind. I have to discuss politics with Rufus Scrimgeour.” “You’re right, Mate,” Ron sighed dramatically, patting Harry’s arm sympathetically. “You do have it much worse.” “Enough of this,” Hermione complained. “Let’s go to bed.” “Yes, let’s,” Ginny echoed, trying to cover another large yawn. Rather than traipse through the house and risk waking up the entire household, they decided to sleep in the garden. Hermione was worried about Death Eaters popping up, so Harry, Ron, and Neville offered to put up wards around the triangular tent that she had conjured. They left the tent feeling very chivalrous having offered to protect their women. They went about their business, placing wards and concealing the tent, having no idea that Hermione had sent them away on purpose. Ginny, Luna, and Hermione took the rare opportunity to discuss the day’s events, with Hermione and Ginny apologizing to Luna yet again. Ginny and Hermione were both bursting at the seams to have a real chat with the only other witch that they called a friend. Meanwhile, outside the tent, the guys were having their own discussion, which mainly consisted of Ron and Harry taking the mickey out of Neville for being so protective of Luna. Their conversation was cut short by a scream that rang out from inside the tent. Ron and Neville rushed to the flaps of the tent to check on the ladies. Harry stayed behind to cast a spell before joining the others. His pace was unhurried as he walked toward the front flap of the tent. “Muffliato,” he whispered, pointing at the house. Harry took his time approaching the tent, he was not worried as Neville and Ron were, he had heard the laughter in Ginny’s scream. By the time he made it to the tent flap, Ginny was waiting to greet him. “Welcome back,” she murmured. “It’s about time.” “I had to check the wards,” Harry said sheepishly. “What if we were being attacked?” Ginny demanded. “You left us with Ron and Neville.” “You can’t protect yourself?” Harry teased. “Besides, I heard the laugh behind your scream. What were you guys talking about?” “That’s none of your business.” “I’ll find out sooner or later,” Harry threatened, his tone completely at odds with the smile that lit up his face. “I’ll tickle it out of you.” “Harry, no,” Ginny cried. “You know I hate to be…” Ginny wasn’t able to remind Harry that she hated being tickled because she had been unexpectedly tossed onto the bed and Harry was currently tickling the soles of her feet. “Stop,” Ginny whined, trying to get the words out between gulps of air. “Tell me,” Harry urged. “I can’t,” Ginny whined again. “Hermione will kill me if I tell you.” “So this is all about Hermione,” Harry asked in an odd voice. Ginny saw the look on Harry’s face and realized she hadn’t seen this particular look before and wondered momentarily if that was a good thing or not. She understood that Harry was giving her an opportunity to escape from the conversation. She puzzled over her decision for a brief second. She watched very carefully as Harry’s eyes darkened from jade to emerald. She ran her hand along his jaw line, caressing his face while lying to him for the first time ever. “Yes, Luv,” she whispered huskily. “It’s all about Hermione.” “I’m sure she’ll tell me when the time is right,” Harry stressed. “When she’s comfortable talking to me.” “I’m sure she will,” Ginny breathed, feeling incredibly guilty. “We should turn in,” Harry suggested. “I think the others are already asleep.” “They are,” Ginny confirmed. “Ron and Hermione went to bed as soon as Ron came barging into the tent. Luna and Neville went to bed shortly after that. Luna looked pretty tired. I hope she sleeps well tonight.” Harry pulled Ginny close to him, snuggling her back against his chest and fell asleep. Ginny, who wasn’t tired in the slightest after her conversation with Harry, pulled Harry’s arm over her waist and around her stomach. The warmth of Harry’s body soothed her chilled arms and fell asleep thinking about secrets and the prices people pay to keep them. On the other side of the tent, in an identical position, Hermione lay wrapped in Ron’s arms. Her mind wandered into unfamiliar territory as she thought about what would happen at the Ministry the following day. Ron grunted behind her, mumbled some incoherent words and pulled Hermione even closer than she had been. At first the tightness was unbearable. Hermione tried to pull away from Ron’s grip, but he held her fast and continued to dream. Hermione settled into Ron, allowing her mind to go blank and falling asleep as quickly as Ginny had. On the last side of the tent, Luna lay awake. Neville lay beside her, rubbing her back and running his fingers through her hair. He was afraid to hold her close for fear that she would feel suffocated. “Hold me,” Luna said in a pleading voice. “I feel so…” She trailed off, allowing her words to dissolve into thin air. “Just hold me, please.” Neville sat up on the bed with his back facing the headboard. He pulled Luna into his lap, cradling her against his chest. He leaned back, feeling the hard wood against his spine. Luna had managed to curl up into the smallest area possible. He could feel her hot tears soaking through his shirt. Neville froze for a fraction of an instant when he heard Luna’s sobs. He had never held a woman who was so overwhelmingly distraught. Instinct kicked in and he rocked her slowly, rubbing her back with his free hand. Softly, he sang to her, an old Irish song that his mother had sung to him when he was just a baby. His voice was deep and soothing. “It seems like only yesterday I sailed from out of Cork. A wanderer from Erin's isle, I landed in New York. There wasn't a soul to greet me there, a stranger on your shore, but Irish luck was with me here, and riches came galore. And now that I'm going back again to dear old Erin's isle, my friends will meet me on the pier and greet me with a smile. Their faces, sure, I've almost forgot, I've been so long away, But me mother will introduce them all and this to me will say…” Neville stopped when Luna’s sobs subsided and she stretched out a bit, causing Neville to sit up straight. “Don’t stop.” He smiled and began the chorus to the song. “Shake hands with your Uncle Mike, me boy, And here is your sister, Kate. And there's the girl you used to swing down by the garden gate. Shake hands with all of the neighbours, and kiss the colleens all; you’re as welcome as the flowers in May to dear old Donnegal.” Neville ended the chorus with a vivid picture of his mother when she was young and vibrant. For a fleeting moment he tolerated the image of his mother and father lying in their beds at St. Mungo’s. The memory was driven from his mind when he heard Luna hum quietly. The notes were low and pleasant and Neville recognized them as the last verse to the song he had been singing. Tentatively, Luna began to sing the words, her voice a subtle contrast to Neville’s smooth tone. Without thinking, Neville added his voice to hers, enjoying the intimacy of the act. “Meet Branigan, Fannigan, Milligan, Gilligan, Duffy, McCuffy, Malachy, Mahone, Rafferty, Lafferty, Donnelly, Connelly, Dooley, O'Hooley, Muldowney, Malone, Madigan, Cadigan, Lanihan, Flanihan, Fagan, O'Hagan, O'Hoolihan, Flynn, Shanihan, Manihan, Fogarty, Hogarty, Kelly, O'Kelly, McGuinness, McGuinn.” They paused before finishing the song. “Shake hands with your Uncle Mike, me boy, And here is your sister, Kate. And there's the girl you used to swing down by the garden gate. Shake hands with all of the neighbours, and kiss the colleens all; you’re as welcome as the flowers in May to dear old Donegal.” As the chorus ended, Neville realized that Luna’s voice had faded into the night as sleep overtook her. She was still curled across him, her breathing deep and even, making it impossible for him to move. He pulled out his wand carefully, trying to avoid waking Luna, and cast a charm on the headboard of the bed, transfiguring it into a pillow. By the time his head hit the newly created pillow, he was asleep. The morning came early, long before any of them were ready to face the day. Once awake, and in the process of eating breakfast, each of them seemed to notice a subtle difference in the air. It was unsettling given the circumstances of their mission. Hermione broke the silence. “Harry, I’d like to speak with you.” “Privately?” “Yes.” Harry followed Hermione as she led him away from the tent. He was surprised when she uttered the spell to prevent the others from hearing their conversation. It must have shown on his face, for Hermione smiled grimly before replying. “I learned from the best.” “I’ll take that in the manner it was intended,” Harry laughed but quickly realized that this was not the time to make jokes. “I have this horrid feeling about today.” “I know. I feel it too.” “I’m scared.” Harry waited patiently for Hermione to continue. He had learned from experience that it did no good to rush her. When she was ready to talk, she would. “If something should happen to you…” “Nothing is going to happen to me, Hermione.” “If something should…” “Nothing’s...” “No, Harry,” she boomed. “You’re not listening.” She cringed slightly before continuing. “If something should happen to you, who will defeat Voldemort? Who will we turn to for leadership? Who will fulfill the prophesy? Who will be there for me if something happens to Ron?” Looking thoroughly frightened at the amount of emotion pouring from Hermione, Harry pulled her into an attempt at a comforting hug. He thought about his response for a long while before he gently moved Hermione back so he could look her in the eyes. “I have no answer that will release you from your fears. I can only offer you that which I know to be true. Look for yourself.” Hermione looked deep within Harry’s eyes, seeing for herself the reasons that Harry had for believing in his mission. She saw Ginny sitting in the common room playing Wizards Chess with Ron. She was curled in an overlarge chair reading a sizeable book. Molly and Arthur were sitting on the couch. The scene flashed to Hogwarts where Professor McGonagall was sitting in her office reading a letter. Tonks and Lupin appeared next, holding hands as they walked through the wreckage of Hogsmeade looking for clues to the identity of the perpetrators behind the attack. Charlie and Cordi were a few steps behind them, whistling as they worked amidst the debris. One by one, the faces of everyone Harry loved flashed before her eyes. As each face passed, her resolve grew stronger. She felt her fears fade into oblivion. Her fears no longer dictated her thoughts. She knew that while her fears were temporarily forgotten, they were far from gone. Hermione took comfort in knowing that Harry had conquered his fears by remembering those he loved. If he could overcome his fears, which had to be a hundred times worse than hers, she could too. “You see?” Harry asked gently. “It is okay to be scared, we all are, but there are things that are more important than your fears.” “We should get back,” Hermione responded, wiping the tears from her eyes. “We should,” Harry agreed. “Are you ready?” “No. I don’t have much choice, though. We need to leave or you will miss your appointment with the Minister,” Hermione sighed. “That would be awful,” Harry said sarcastically. “Let’s go and get this over with.” The returned to the group post haste. Harry took it as a mark of their deep friendship that there wasn’t a trace of jealousy on Ron’s face. Ron’s eyes were full of concern, but having already asked for details and been rebuffed, he kept his mouth shut to avoid starting a wicked fight. “Wise decision,” Harry whispered discretely as he brushed past Ron to stand by Ginny’s side. “Everyone ready?” Ron asked. Hermione was the only one who didn’t nod her assent. Ron’s look of concern became a look of unadulterated fear. He looked to Harry for answers. Harry shrugged in response, but it did not placate Ron. He opened his mouth to tell Harry exactly what he though about the whole situation when Hermione touched his shoulder gently. “I’m ready,” she assured him. “I just needed a minute.” “I’ll go first,” Ron indicated before disappearing. Ginny and Hermione grabbed Luna and disappeared immediately after Ron left. Harry and Neville followed shortly thereafter. By the time Harry and Neville had situated themselves, Ron had already scouted the path they would take into the Ministry. He returned to the group to explain the plan. “Harry, you are going first. Go straight to the Minister’s office. Ginny and I will enter just a minute after you do and we’re going directly to Percy’s office. Hermione, are you sure that you are prepared to go with Neville and Luna?” “Yes,” she choked. “Hermione, you and Luna need to get Neville to the Book. Take whatever measures are necessary, but for the love of Merlin, be careful. I want you to come back to me in one piece.” For some reason, Ron’s last comment caused Hermione to break out in irrational tears. Ron looked bewildered when Hermione kissed him passionately and took off toward the covert entrance that the Aurors used to get into the Ministry. Luna and Neville exchanged a quick glance before hurrying across the street to join Hermione. “Don’t look at me like that,” Ginny said irritably. “I can’t tell you, so don’t bother to ask.” Ron looked at Harry with a thunderstruck expression. “I’m starting to envy you your discussion with the Minister,” Ron mumbled. “I’ll meet you guys at the rendezvous point,” Harry announced. He kissed Ginny quickly while whispering in her ear to take it easy on Ron. Ron and Ginny watched as Harry crossed the street to the main entrance of the Ministry. They each took several deep breaths in preparation for their meeting with Percy before trudging across the street in the same direction that Harry had. “I guess we don’t get to go shopping before the meeting,” Ginny whispered irritably as they crowded in to the telephone booth that was the visitors’ entrance to the Ministry of Magic. “Why are you so grumpy? You can go shopping anytime you want now,” Ron whispered back jealously as Ginny dialed six-two-four-four-two on the dial. “You can too,” Ginny whispered back. “You know that Harry and I both want you to have everything we have. We’ll share every last Knut with you.” They were both ignoring the Welcome Witch’s announcement. Suddenly her voice rang out loud and clear, and she waited quite impatiently, as if expecting an answer from them. “Oh,” Ginny exclaimed, “we’re here to see Percy Weasley. Our appointment is at…” “Eleven. Take your visitor badges and affix them to the front of your robes. In plain sight, please. You must submit to a search and present your wand at the security desk before taking the lift to level two.” The Welcome Witch’s voice sounded crystal clear through the panels of glass that separated her from Ron and Ginny. “That’s not the point,” Ron mumbled, the tips of his ears turning bright red as he took his badge and handed Ginny hers. He was intent on finishing the conversation they had started. “Then what is?” Ginny shot back as they entered the foyer, bypassing the magical fountain and turning in their wands to be weighed. “I don’t want to take money from my little sister and her new husband,” Ron grumbled as he took his wand back from Eric, watching as he skewered the parchments onto the small brass spike. “Her new husband,” Ginny fumed as they headed toward the lift. “As I recall, he was your best mate before he was ever my husband.” “I…” sputtered Ron. “That’s really not the point. How can you expect me to grovel for money?” “Grovel,” Ginny shrieked, attracting all sorts of attention as they entered through the opened lift doors. Ron’s face was flaming by the time the doors closed, and he was grateful that the startled onlookers could no longer watch their argument. “How can you say that?” Ginny persisted. “When have you ever had to grovel? When has Harry ever made you feel like you even had to ask for money?” There was a pregnant pause as Ron shuffled his feet and scratched at his head. “Well,” he began, “never really.” “Then, what is this about?” Ginny demanded. “I don’t have time for shenanigans, Ron.” “I just want…” “What? Ron, spit it out already.” “I want to be able to provide for Hermione,” Ron admitted. “I don’t want to take a handout each time that I need something.” Ginny had just opened her mouth to retort when the lift doors opened and two witches from the Wizengamot got on, effectively halting their conversation. An uncomfortable silence filled the life as they ascended to the second level. The doors opened for the last time, allowing Ron, Ginny, and the two Wizengamot witches off the lift. After Ron stepped off the lift, he watched as several interdepartmental memos flew into the lift just as the door slid shut. “Which way to Percy’s office?” Ron mumbled. “Percy Weasley?” asked one of the witches. “Yes. He’s our brother,” Ginny replied nervously, hoping their ulterior motives didn’t show. “He’s in the third office on the right,” the other witch told them, “if you get to the heavy metal doors, you’ve gone too far.” “Thank you,” Ron breathed. Ron and Ginny hurried away, trying to walk at a normal pace and failing miserably. They ended up compromising by half walking, half skipping down the hall, looking incredibly foolish as they went. By the time they reached Percy’s office, he had left. There was a terse note, bordering on rude, that he had left pinned to the door. “We’re to meet our guide in the Atrium,” Ginny observed. “That’s where we just came from,” Ron complained. “I don’t want to get back into that lift.” “What?” Ginny said exasperatedly, on the verge of socking her bother in the shoulder. It wasn’t the time to hex him; they had enough magic to do once they made it to the Atrium. “Well, at least we’ll be where we need to be,” Ron declared. “Indeed,” Ginny agreed. “Are you ready to make some trouble?” Ron asked, grinning affectionately at his baby sister. “Let’s show the world that Fred and George aren’t the only Weasleys that can create havoc,” Ginny bragged. They walked back to the lift and managed to ride it down to the Atrium without encountering another soul. Ginny pulled out Harry’s invisibility cloak and covered herself. She and Ron exited the lift quickly taking their places on either side of the Fountain of Magical Brethren. Ron waited until he could see their tour guide pacing irritably, waiting impatiently for them to arrive. The attack was swift and Ron’s plan was executed flawlessly. Ron released Fred and George’s new products, creating life-sized versions of the Death Eaters throughout the Atrium. Ginny, still hidden beneath the Invisibility Cloak, would slip in and out between the figures, firing off mild hexes at the Ministry personnel. Once they had raised enough of a ruckus, an alarm began to sound throughout the building. The alarm blared in the Atrium, causing a wave of panic to ripple through the crowds of people. They began to stampede toward the exits. Several unfortunate wizards got caught underfoot and trampled before Ginny could help them up. Ron made his way through the frightened crowd, maneuvering quickly and efficiently. He reached the door where he knew Hermione, Neville, and Luna were hiding. He opened the door and helped them to slip through the Atrium unnoticed. “Good luck,” he whispered as they entered the hallway leading to the Department of Mysteries. He watched as Hermione, Ron, and Luna raced down the hallway. The thundering of their footsteps alerted the wizards guarding the Department of Mysteries. For a split second, Ron was certain that they would be caught. Hermione, who had raised her wand as she heard the door opening, stunned all three wizards without breaking her stride. Ron beamed proudly before rejoining Ginny in the Atrium. Ron and Ginny continued to wreak havoc on the Ministry Officials. Ginny’s Bat Bogey Hexes were flying across the room at an alarming rate. Ron was casting every annoying hex he could think of. He watched in amusement as one of the witches grew fur that covered her entire body. He laughed out loud as a wizard who had been hit with both a Jelly Legs curse from Ginny and a Twitchy Ears hex from Ron started to flop around on the floor, scratching frantically at his ears. Ron and Ginny continued to send curses flying at the Officials, keeping them occupied long enough to allow Hermione a fair chance to find the book. ************** “Which way do you reckon we should go?” Neville asked. “Go to the right,” Luna answered confidently. They all turned down the next hallway; each one hoping that they were heading toward the room that housed the book. “Stop,” Hermione commanded. “This can’t be the right way. The last time we were here there was a room full of doors.” “What?” Neville choked. “Hold on,” Luna insisted. “She’s right.” Without hesitation, they turned around and headed in the other direction. Luna was walking slowly, lagging behind Neville and Hermione. Hermione turned and looked over her shoulder, wondering where Luna had gone, when she saw the two Death Eaters out of the corner of her eye. “Get down,” Hermione bellowed. Neville and Luna both crashed to the floor. Hermione got off several good hexes before the Death Eaters had even reacted to her cry. Luna crawled to when Neville lay on the floor. By the time she had put up her shield, Hermione had already incapacitated the Death Eaters. Luna got off the floor, hauling Neville up, and conjured ropes to hold the Death Eaters. “Are we just going to leave them here?” Neville asked, pointing at the captured Death Eaters. “Someone will find them sooner or later,” Luna reasoned. “What are they doing here?” Hermione demanded. “Probably the same thing we are,” Luna offered helpfully. “Why would they want the book?” Neville asked. “They can’t read it.” “If they have it,” Hermione explained, “we can’t destroy it.” “What if it’s not the Horcrux,” Neville worried. “This is an awful lot of trouble to go through if it’s just an old book.” Luna smiled grimly. “I wish it were just a book.” Before they knew it, they had reached the room with many doors. Several doors still bore the imprint of Hermione’s ‘flagrate’ spell from two years before. Hermione and Neville looked at Luna expectantly. She looked around at the doors and muttered something under her breath. The lights in the room extinguished themselves and the room was plunged into absolute darkness. Slowly, everyone’s eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. Once their eyes had adjusted, a faint light was visible under the door directly in between two of the doors that Hermione had previously marked. “Shall we?” Luna joked, as if they were heading down to breakfast. “Yes, and we’d better go quickly before any more Death Eaters show up,” Hermione cautioned. Since they had no idea how far the Prophesy extended, they allowed Neville to open the door to the forbidden room. He grasped the handle, turned it, and the door glowed faintly. The anticipation got to Hermione and she shoved Neville forward, causing the door to fly open. Even Hermione was speechless. The room was empty save for a large wooden stand directly in the center. “It’s empty,” Hermione sputtered. “How could the Death Eaters have beaten us to it?” “Gone?” Neville echoed. “I can’t believe they beat us here,” Luna added. “Gone?” Neville asked again. “Are you two batty?” “Of course. Neville can see it,” Hermione marveled. Neville reached up to the shelf, removed the book from the stand and open the cover cautiously. “Now what?” He turned around to face Hermione and Luna. Neville nearly dropped the book when he heard Luna’s cry of fear. “Neville,” she whimpered. “Your eyes.” “Can you see?” Hermione asked carefully. “Yes,” Neville responded, thoroughly confused as to why they were both so upset. Although he could not tell, the moment he opened the book, Neville’s eyes had gone blank. Not a trace of color could be seen in his eyes. Luna and Hermione were frightened, but resolved to finish the task that lay before them. “Are you ready?’ Luna asked, trying not to look into Neville’s eyes. “Yes. What do I do?” “Turn the book upside down,” Hermione instructed. “Then, you will need to flip to the last page and read.” Luna and Hermione watched with bated breath as Neville spun the book upside down and turned to the last page and read the words. Nothing happened. “Read it out loud,” Hermione advised. Neville turned his white orbs on Hermione, sending chills down her spine. “Amoris. Debellare. Quaeque.” Hermione turned to Luna. “Love. Conquers. Everything,” she translated. “That’s all there is?” she asked Neville. “Yes, but nothing is happening,” Neville observed. “Try reading it one more time,” Hermione encouraged. “Amoris debellare quaeque.” Neville spoke with more confidence this time. Hermione and Luna threw themselves to the ground in time to avoid the blinding light that emanated from the book. “Now what?” Neville asked, his eyes returning to their normal shade of brown. “As much as it pains me to do it,” Hermione debated, “we should destroy the book.” Luna offered to demolish the book since Hermione’s face had turned green at the thought of harming such a priceless treasure. Surprisingly, the moment she touched her wand to the book and muttered, “Incendio,” the book vanished in a puff of smoke. “We’d better get back to Harry,” Neville advised. “If he’s alone with Scrimgeour too long, he might do something he’ll regret.” Hermione and Luna nodded seriously, each picturing Harry turning the Minister into a creature. Hermione pictured a Flobberworm, while Luna pictured a Bowtruckle. Both of them giggled at their own imaginations, them sobered when they realized each was a possibility if the Minister pushed Harry too far. Luna grabbed Neville’s hand, pulling down the hallway behind them as they ran to the Atrium. By the time they made it to the entrance, the diversion battle was already over. Ron and Ginny were nowhere to be seen. Hermione was just beginning to go insane with worry when a hand, floating in midair, grabbed hers. She started to scream when another hand covered her mouth. Luna and Neville were oblivious to Hermione’s predicament, as they were both scanning the ruined Atrium for signs of Ron and Ginny. “It’s us,” Ron whispered into Hermione’s ear. “Did you get it?” Hermione simply nodded. “What happened?” Ginny asked impatiently. “Did it all go as planned?” When Hermione didn’t respond, Ginny asked again loudly and alerted Neville and Luna to her presence. Neville reached out and tugged on the Invisibility Cloak. It slid to the floor, uncovering Ron with his hand across Hermione’s mouth and Ginny, with her hands on her hips and her lips pursed in aggravation. “Ron,” Ginny practically hollered. “Move your ruddy hand so she can answer.” “Sorry,” Ron said sheepishly. “Everything went as planned,” Hermione told them quickly. “We need to get to Harry before…” Just as Hermione was about to speculate what Harry would do to the Minister, two figures appeared before them. “Harry,” Ginny cried out. “Are you alright?” “Yes. I’m fine,” Harry gasped. “Help me with this git.” “Draco,” Hermione exclaimed. “I hit him with a trophy in the Minister’s office,” Harry explained. “I thought he was going to attack me and then go after the Minister.” “What happened to the Minister?” Ron asked. “He had just left me in his office to investigate the disturbance in the Atrium,” Harry spat. “He didn’t go to the Atrium, though, he left. I watched him as he Apparated out of the Ministry. Bloody coward.” “A trophy?” Hermione giggled. “Was your wand inaccessible?” “No,” Harry retorted. “I just…” Draco stirred on the floor. He sat up dazedly, looking at his new surroundings and coughed. He winced at the pain in his ribs and felt them gingerly. “Did you have to hit me so hard?” he grumbled. “You’re lucky he didn’t curse you into oblivion,” Neville blurted. “You deserve it.” “We’ll see about that,” Draco boasted. He coughed again, clutching his bruised ribs. “What do you mean? Tell me,” Harry demanded. “Why did you Apparate into the Minister’s office?” “There were Death Eaters here,” Hermione pointed out. “Do you know why?” “They were a distraction,” Draco breathed, his words coming in spurts between the pain. “They were sent to keep you occupied. Where else would you have liked me to Apparate? I was trying to find you.” “Why?” Harry snarled. “Go home,” Draco commanded. “Why?” Harry and Ginny said simultaneously. “To save your family,” Draco emphasized mysteriously before touching his Dark Mark and disappearing before anyone could stop him. Back to Donegal Words & music: Steve Graham Copyright: @1942 Leeds Music Corp. New York |
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