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Summer Story | ||||||
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Category: Post-OotP, Buried Gems Characters:None Genres: Action/Adventure, Fluff, General Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 392 Summary: Summer at the Dursleys’ is typical for Harry Potter who hopes his stay with his relatives will only last two weeks at most. In this sequel to You’re Still You and New Year, New Hope Harry learns that his role as “savior” of the Wizarding world is more complicated than he thought and that he needs his friends and mentors more than he ever imagined. Hitcount: Story Total: 135420; Chapter Total: 4066 |
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Chapter Eighteen: Hogwarts Again ________________________________________ Hermione met Ginny, Ron and Mrs Weasley outside King’s Cross Station about twenty minutes before the train was due to depart for Hogwarts. As soon as they stepped onto Platform Nine and three-quarters they knew something was not right. Instead of the bustling confusion Ginny usually associated with leaving for school, the platform was nearly silent. A bone-deep chill had turned the steam from the engine into a thick fog, and as they approached the coaches a Dementor loomed out of the mist. For Ginny, this introduction to her sixth year at Hogwarts was pure torture; between the memories of Tom Riddle’s treachery and her recent experiences with Harry’s petrified pleading, she froze on the spot. She felt so weak and shaky, it took the combined urging of Ron, Hermione and Mrs Weasley to actually get her on the train. “Ron, you and Hermione go and find a compartment. I’ll stay with Ginny until one of you comes back to show her where to go,” Mrs Weasley said as she fished in her bag for the bar of chocolate she kept for emergencies. Five minutes later, Ron came back and reported that Neville and Luna had been saving a compartment for them at the back of the train. Ginny looked at her mother. “I’ll be all right, Mum,” she assured her. “I’m feeling better already.” Looking reluctant to leave, Mrs Weasley said, “I hope so. Ron, be sure she eats some more chocolate when you get to the compartment.” She pressed a Galleon into Ron’s hand. Ron grinned at Ginny as he promised to share his Chocolate Frogs with her. They said good-bye and assured Mrs Weasley that they would send Pig with a letter after the Welcoming Feast. Then, as Mrs Weasley stepped off the train, Ron pulled out his wand and levitated their trunks. Ginny picked up Pig’s cage. As they began their trek to their compartment heads poked out of doors as the other students took notice of the pair’s approach. “Now I know how Harry felt at the beginning of last year,” Ginny remarked as they entered the last carriage. “How’s that?” Ron asked. “You and Hermione didn’t see what happened. Everyone was staring at Harry and all those annoying girls were pointing and whispering about him. Now they’re doing it to us,” she explained as they entered the last coach. In the first compartment they passed, she caught a glimpse of Draco Malfoy sitting with Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini. He glanced in her direction but didn’t react to her direct gaze, a change from years past. She wondered whether the three had spent the entire summer at Grimmauld Place or in the Slytherin guest suites at the castle. In all the uproar over Harry and Dumbledore’s abduction, she hadn’t thought of them in weeks. “Ron, Ginny, in here,” the familiar voice of Neville Longbottom called. He held the door open and stepped back to let them enter. Ginny smiled weakly. “Thank goodness,” she breathed, sinking onto the first seat in the compartment and passing a shaky hand over her face. Luna eyed her with a raised eyebrow. “Dementors or Wrakspurts?” she asked. “Dementors,” Ginny answered. “They’re affecting me worse than ever.” She turned to Hermione who was hovering close by. “I’m cold. Could one of you get my cloak out of my trunk for me, please?” Ron set Ginny’s trunk down with a gentle thump in front of Hermione. “Sure, Ginny,” she said, as Ron handed her several chocolate frogs, one already unwrapped. She broke off its head and began to nibble on it. As Hermione located the cloak, Neville asked, “Any news of Harry?” The three of them looked at each other and shook their heads–they had agreed not to say anything to anyone outside the Room of Requirement. “I thought there would be by now,” Luna said, looking sadly out the window at the misty platform. Ginny reached over and patted her friend’s arm. “We did too, but in the meantime, I’ve decided that no news is good news.” Luna seemed to accept this and reached for her copy of the latest Quibbler. Neville cleared his throat. He sounded nervous as he asked, “Did you hear the news? The Death Eaters have taken over the Ministry.” “When?” everyone asked. “About eleven o’clock last night. Minister Scrimgeour, Cornelius Fudge and a couple of junior assistants were holding a late meeting in the Minister’s office when someone barged in and cast the Killing Curse on the lot,” Neville said. “The new Minister of Magic is supposed to be announced later today. It was all over the Prophet this morning.” Ron was the first to recover. “Er... we’ve been a bit busy the last few days,” he said vaguely. “And Mum and Dad have stopped reading the Prophet.” “Have they released the names of the junior assistants yet?” Ginny asked, her throat feeling almost too tight to speak. “Percy?” she gasped. Ron’s head whipped around to stare at Neville. “Was he...?” Neville shook his head. “No. He was the one who found them,” he said gravely. Ginny exhaled loudly, then her eyes grew wide. “Mum and Dad... they don’t know!” she murmured. “PIG!” She and Ron lunged for Pigwidgeon’s cage simultaneously. Ron got there first, reaching in and liberating his owl. Ginny grabbed for her bag instead and pulled out a piece of parchment and a Muggle pencil. She jotted a quick note and gave it to Pig, who was sitting quietly on Ron’s finger, for once. As soon as Ron opened the window the little owl took off, just as the train began pulling out of the station. Ginny put her things away, then went back to her seat, feeling numb. Hermione handed her the cloak before taking a seat next to Ron on the other side of the compartment, leaving Harry’s normal seat next to Ginny empty — a silent testament to his absence. Except for a few murmured sentences when Hermione and Ron went forward for their Prefects meeting, nobody talked much the entire trip; there was just too much to think about. More Dementors were present at the Hogsmeade train station and they sent the older students scurrying for the carriages as fast as they could go. As bad as they made her feel, Ginny felt sorry for the first-years, who quickly left the platform with a blubbering Rubeus Hagrid. As soon as they found an empty carriage, Ginny collapsed into a seat; she could hardly wait to get to the castle and escape the hideous creatures and what they made her remember. One glance at Ron, Hermione, Luna and Neville told her they didn’t feel much better. The Welcoming Feast was no better than the train or carriage rides. As they passed into the Great Hall, Ginny and her friends cringed at the sight of a Dementor stationed in the Entrance Hall. “If those things are going to be in the castle this year, I’m in trouble,” Ginny remarked to Luna. “You’ll find a way to cope,” Luna reassured her. “You always do.” “Thanks, Luna. That means a lot to hear that,” Ginny said and the two witches departed for their respective house tables. Because of Professor Dumbledore’s disappearance and Voldemort’s take-over of the Ministry, sweeping changes had taken place at Hogwarts in the last eighteen hours, which the students learned about from their new Headmaster before the food appeared. Professor McGonagall had declined the head’s position, preferring to remain as Deputy Headmistress and the Head of Gryffindor House. In her place, Voldemort and the Board of Governors had chosen Severus Snape as the new Headmaster. That left not only the Defence Against the Dark Arts position open (last year’s Defence teacher had been too scared by last term’s battle to return to the school), but the Potion Master’s post vacant as well. These positions had been filled by Amycus Carrow and a retired Potioneer by the name of Horace Slughorn. Just as the food appeared, Professor Carrow stood up and called for their attention. “Let this be a warning to you. I have heard reports of students out of bed in years past. This year, no one will be wandering the halls after curfew. If you do you may find yourselves trapped in some rather nasty situations. You may not live to tell the tale,” he wheezed. “Oh, and Mr Filch has my permission to use his whips and thumbscrews during detention this year.” A rumble of dismay raced through the student body. The biggest question of the evening was “who had put Carrow in charge of discipline,” although almost everyone knew the answer but weren’t voicing their opinions. Only the Slytherins looked pleased at this news. As soon as the students were dismissed to go to their dormitories, Ginny raced past the Dementors to the Owlery. She wrote four sentences to her parents: “Dementors and booby traps in the castle. Severus Snape is Headmaster. Horace Slughorn, Potions and Amycus Carrow, Defence. What do you know? G.” Pig brought Mrs Weasley’s letter back the next morning at breakfast. She thanked Ron and Ginny for the information about Percy and told them that he had shown up at The Burrow about dinner time, pale and shaking and wanting to spend the night. (Ginny was glad that Percy had come home, but Ron wasn’t quite so generous.) Mrs Weasley’s response to Ginny’s report was scathing at best. She was very upset by the presence of the Dementors, writing that the castle was not Azkaban and the students weren’t prisoners. “What are they thinking booby trapping the school at night?” she added at the end of her paragraph. “It’s as if they’re planning on killing the students rather than teaching them!” She railed on about Professor Snape’s coup and was positively enraged by the choice of Amycus Carrow as the Defence teacher and chief disciplinarian. “He’s a Death Eater! The worst sort there is: no morals and as sadistic as they come, according to your father and Tonks. If he truly is the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, I wouldn’t be surprised if what he teaches is really Dark Arts, with an emphasis on ‘dark’. Please don’t do anything to get detention, you two! I want you back in one piece at the end of term!” Her opinion of Horace Slughorn was a mixture of pleasure and precaution. She was elated that her former professor had been talked into coming out of retirement, saying that his teaching style was much different from Snape’s. “I think you’ll find his teaching methods more relaxed, although I remember he expects just as much from his students as Professor Snape,” she wrote. “He’s nice most of the time, too. However, I wouldn’t get too chummy with him; he is, after all, the Head of Slytherin House.” This caused a twitter of laughter from the Gryffindors sitting around Ginny as she read portions of the letter aloud. Mrs Weasley ended her letter by cautioning Ginny, Ron and Hermione about the importance of being extremely vigilant about what they included in their letters home. The three of them looked at each other and mouthed, “Grimmauld Place.” Hermione, therefore, took it upon herself to research Non-detectable Concealment spells that the three of them could use on their letters. After four days of searching, she came up with three that they could use in addition to something she called “encryption.” The three quickly put the spells into use to everyone they wrote to, including Dudley. What surprised Ginny was not how easy it was to encrypt a letter, but the fact that Dudley Dursley found the writing of encrypted letters amusingly cloak-and-dagger. He wrote to all three of them, often sending several letters at a time with Mrs Weasley’s owl. The letters were usually short, but from the beginning, they were a bright ray of light in an otherwise depressing existence. Ginny, Ron and Hermione enjoyed reading about his days at The Burrow; in one his first letters he thanked Ron and Ginny for accepting his help with the search for Harry because Dudley hadn’t thought they’d want him around. In another he told them about helping Mr Weasley catalogue his collection of Muggle artefacts. A week later he wrote, “Your dad brought home a Gateway Solo laptop computer last week, claiming that it was now free of the eye lock hex someone had put on it. He did some brilliant spell work and got it running without electricity, but once it was turned on, he had no idea how to work it. He asked me to help him and for the last few days I’ve been helping him learn about the Windows 95 operating system–a computer program I worked with at school last year. He’s now talking about finding the jinxed printer that came with it so he can print his letters to you.” Dudley also recounted helping Mrs Weasley in the back garden by weeding the flowerbeds and degnoming them every few days. An enthusiastic paragraph about learning to cook without magic brought a chuckle from Ron who, like his brothers, wouldn’t be caught dead in a kitchen unless it was to eat. Hermione was scandalized. “How are you going to eat after you leave school?” she asked. Ron shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought of that,” he said, scowling. Then he brightened. “You’ll invite me over for dinner?” he asked hopefully. Hermione snorted. “Not as often as you think,” she said. Ron shrugged his shoulders again. “It was worth a try,” he said to Ginny, sending her into a fit of giggles. Dudley also rose to the challenge of learning to say a lot in a whole lot of nonsense. His codes, though simple, were often hard to decipher. Towards the end of the last week of September Ginny received a note from him that contained an encrypted paragraph that sounded insignificant to those around them, but was interesting enough that she read it aloud to Hermione and Ron. “Your rather excitable mum said she wants to be sure you are going to send notes to Aunt Hedwig. She is now home from the Augurey recovery hospital and has settled in nicely. Look for Percy’s letter in mid-October. He will watch for your letters for now. Please write her soon.” When she finished, Hermione said urgently, “Meet me in the Room of Requirement in fifteen minutes.” “That’s not enough time what with all those booby traps to detour around,” Ron protested. Ginny raised an eyebrow in his direction as he continued. “Besides, we’ve got Carrow at ten and I’m not skiving off his lesson again.” He rubbed his ribs where Ginny had seen the painful bruise Carrow had inflicted with a spell two nights previously during Ron’s detention. Nothing Madam Pomfrey tried had brought her brother relief from the lingering pain. “We’ll be done in time for Ginny’s Charms class at nine, Ron,” Hermione said reassuringly. “The paragraph isn’t that long.” Ron looked dubious. “If you say so,” he muttered and returned his attention to his breakfast. Ron and Hermione were already in the Room when Ginny arrived in the seventh floor corridor. She was later than she should have been because she’d met Draco Malfoy on the stairs and made a detour around Dementors in two different corridors. The door was visible to her, so she slipped inside, closing it firmly behind her. “What kept you?” Ron asked as she entered. “Draco,” she answered. “He asked if we’d had news about Harry. I told him we hadn’t.” Ron raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as he turned back to Hermione. The Room had provided a small table and three chairs, two of which were occupied by her brother and Hermione. Hermione looked frustrated; she had copied Dudley’s paragraph onto a piece of parchment, but didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. “I hate Dudley’s simple codes,” she muttered. “They’re always the hardest to figure out.” “When’s the letter dated?” Ginny asked. They’d solved another of Dudley’s letters using a date code two weeks ago. “That’s it! Ginny, you’re a genius,” Hermione exclaimed, jumping up to hug her. “The message words are space two or three words apart.” She sat back down and began reading slowly as her quill flew over her parchment. “Your mum... wants... you to... send Hedwig... home. Recovery... set... for mid-October. Watch for her.” The three of them stared at each other, not quite believing the news. Ron recovered enough first to murmur, “Blimey, a rescue in two weeks.” “Two long weeks,” Ginny whispered. “I don’t know if Harry and I can last that long...” Her stomach twisted and she wished she hadn’t eaten quite so much for breakfast. Ron stepped up and caught her in a one-armed hug. “You can and you will, just like Harry will and he doesn’t know there’s a rescue being planned,” he said bracingly. “I know you will.” She hugged him back. “Thanks, Ron. Hearing you so confident helps a lot,” she said. Then, she looked at her watch. “Oh, time for me to go. I’ll see you two at lunch.” She gathered up her book bag and headed for the door. As she turned the knob she said grinning, “Now don’t use all the rest of your time here for snogging, you two.” She made it out the door just as Ron’s trainer hit it with a resounding thud. At the end of the first week, Professor McGonagall had called Ginny into her office to ask if there was anything she could do to help her deal with Harry’s kidnapping. She had noticed how stressed Ginny always looked in the early afternoon and was concerned she wasn’t coping very well. As much as she hadn’t wanted to admit it, the daily episodes with Harry’s emotional transmissions were beginning to wear on Ginny, so she requested a change in her schedule that would accommodate the hour she needed to be by herself. That request had been granted and for the last three weeks, Ginny had been going up to the suite Harry had occupied during the summer for some much-needed private time each afternoon. Ginny was very grateful to Professor McGonagall and thankful that she had someplace to go when Harry began sharing his emotions with her earlier than ususal, like he was today. Ginny had gone to the library during her lunch break with Luna to look something up for a joint project they were doing for Charms and they were pouring over a heavy tome when her forehead began to throb incessantly, a sure sign that Harry was about to “share.” “Luna, I’ve got to go,” Ginny whispered, struggling to keep her focus long enough to get herself out of the library. “If you think this is the book we need, go ahead and check it out. I’ll see you in Defence.” Luna flicked her wand at her things causing them to pack themselves. “I’m coming with you, Ginny,” she said, pointing her wand at Ginny’s belongings. When Ginny’s parchment and quills had nestled themselves in her bag she whispered, “Is it Harry?” “Yes, something terrible has happened and he’s feeling very alone right now,” Ginny said grimly. They hurried to the fifth floor and stopped in front of the Seeker painting. “I won’t come in. Hedwig doesn’t like me,” Luna said matter-of-factly. “You’ll be all right now?” Ginny smiled wanly and rubbed her forehead. “Yeah, I’ll be fine once I can lie down.” Luna departed, leaving Ginny alone in front of the portrait. Ginny gazed at the familiar scene and felt a lump forming in her throat. She was saddened because she knew today was the last time she would come here. In a few minutes she would be releasing Hedwig to fly back to The Burrow and when she was gone and Ginny had collected all of Harry’s things, there would no longer be a purpose for her to come here. Harry’s owl mourned his absence as much as Ginny. Hedwig was fiercely protective of his possessions and would attack anyone who tried to remove them from his rooms. Ginny was sure Hedwig thought Harry was coming back to get what he’d left, and that she wanted to be present when he did. Ginny was grateful to Hedwig for her loyalty and perseverance for the owl provided the young witch with a calm, quiet retreat to come to each afternoon. While Ginny lay on the bed hugging a pillow that amazingly still smelled of his scent, Hedwig kept watch nearby. “Hello, Hedwig,” Ginny called as she closed the portrait and walked through the sitting room to Harry’s bedroom. “It’s me, Ginny.” She held up her arm and Hedwig flew over to her. “I’ve got some news, girl. Would you like to hear it?” As if she understood, Hedwig bobbed up and down, so Ginny continued. “I received a letter from Dudley this morning. He said Mum wants you to fly home and wait there with Errol until she gives you a message to bring back to me.” She stared straight into Hedwig’s unblinking amber gaze as she asked, “Can you do that for me, girl? You’re the only one who can carry the message.” Again, Hedwig bobbed up and down. “I’m going to miss our special time together, Hedwig,” Ginny sniffed as she walked over to the window where Hedwig’s cage sat. She pulled out her wand, shrunk the cage and tied the tiny parcel to the owl’s leg. “Have a safe flight,” she said, stroking Hedwig’s head one last time. Hedwig leaned into her touch and it was all Ginny could do to open the window and toss Hedwig towards the forest. She watched as the owl became a tiny speck on the horizon. Now alone in Harry’s suite, surrounded by his things, Ginny gave into the tears. Her one tangible tie to Harry had just left and in its place was an enormous empty feeling. She sighed as she turned from the window and began packing Harry’s trunk. With Hedwig no longer here to protect his possessions, Ginny was afraid someone would enter the suite and vandalize them. When the trunk was packed and shrunk to fit in her book bag, Ginny wandered into the sitting room and sank down onto the couch next to Harry’s rucksack. It sat in the exact spot Professor McGonagall had found it in after she heard of Harry’s and Dumbledore’s disappearance. Ginny knew the contents by heart and could feel Harry’s magic radiating from his possessions and sympathize with the emotions contained in his journal. She had read his words many times over and always found comfort in his messy handwriting. She opened the rucksack one last time, fingering the silky material of the Invisibility Cloak and caressing the binding of the journal. With a final sigh, she closed up the bag, shrunk it and added it to the collection of tiny items in her own bag. The room was now bare of anything that reminded her of Harry Potter. A tear slid down her cheek and she curled up on the sofa, feeling miserable. Minutes later, she heard the portrait open and looked up to see Hermione standing in the doorway. “Hi, Ginny. I stopped by to see if you needed anything,” she said, coming to sit next to Ginny. “How long today?” Ginny sighed. “All morning, although the intensity has been building only since I got here,” she said, sniffing loudly. Hermione put her arm around Ginny. “I’m here now, so if you want to talk about what’s going on with Harry, it might help you feel better,” she suggested. Ginny reached into her pocket and brought out Harry’s wand, which she had carried with her since it had appeared in front of her on Harry’s birthday. She stroked the shaft and several red and gold sparks sprang from its tip. “Oh, Hermione, he’s really hurting today. Something happened that has made him incredibly sad and it feels as if he’s keening. He feels so alone and abandoned and all I want to do is throw my arms around him and try to take the hurt away. I know I can’t, but that’s what my instincts tell me to do.” Hermione tightened her embrace. “Have you tried sending him comforting thoughts?” “Not yet,” Ginny sighed. “I was feeling sorry for myself and the fact that I’m going to have to find another place to cry each day ‘cause Madam Pince would be scandalized if I chose the library!” “No, I don’t think she’d appreciate you getting her precious books all wet,” Hermione chuckled as Ginny wriggled from under her arm and lay back against the cushions. “I’m going to try sending Harry some comforting thoughts. Would you stay?” she asked. Hermione nodded and Ginny concentrated on sending her thoughts to Harry. Hang in there, Harry. We’re doing all we can to find you and Professor Dumbledore. If you can, send me more images; they’re a big help. I love you, Harry and even though we’re far apart, I think of you constantly. I want to hold you, comfort you in your time of sorrow. Please, Harry, let me know where you are so we can come get you. She didn’t expect Harry to send her anything. She’d pleaded with him several other times for clues to his whereabouts, but her requests had gone unheeded. Today, however, Harry’s sorrow must have been acting as a conduit for her thoughts because suddenly her head was filled with images. “Hermione,” she gasped, sitting up and gripping her head. “Harry... images!” There was a rustle of parchment and then Hermione’s excited murmur, “Tell me, Ginny. I’ll write it down.” Ginny concentrated hard. At first, Harry’s attention focused on drops of water as they descended towards his forehead. “Slowly dripping water...” she murmured. “They’re torturing him with... dripping water.” Then, as Harry’s attention wandered from the maddening dripping, he cried out, making Ginny do the same and she gasped, “White castle... by lake... village... cave... three rooms... covered in stalac–no stalag–oh damn, pointy rock formations on the floor and ceiling... Dumbledore asleep... he won’t respond to shaking... barely alive... Death Eaters... Peter Pettigrew... Professor Carrow?!?” The images faded and Ginny was left with only the feeling of Harry’s utter abandonment. But once she was able to separate her own feelings from Harry’s, she and Hermione stared at each other in astonishment. “Is that what I think it is?” Ginny finally asked, realizing that they finally had some concrete information concerning Harry’s and Dumbledore’s whereabouts. Hermione nodded, looking numb. Finally, she shook herself into action. “Yes! This is the second time the white building on the lake has come up,” she exclaimed. “Ginny, this is excellent! Let’s take this to Professor McGonagall now,” she said quietly. She stood, folded the parchment and put it in her pocket. “She’ll know what to do with this.” She offered her hand to Ginny. Ginny shook her head. “You go ahead, Hermione. I need to rest a little before Professor Carrow’s class,” she said. “I’m going to need all the strength I can dredge up.” Nodding grimly, Hermione put away her quill and ink and walked towards the door. “You’ll be all right, then?” she asked. Ginny’s lips twitched a little. “Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she said. Hermione left and a few minutes later, Ginny went into the bathroom to wash her face and, on impulse as she passed through the bedroom on her way out, she shrunk Harry’s pillow and put it with the rest of his things in her book bag. Then, she hurried out of the suite towards the Dark Arts classroom and, even though she had to detour several times around Dementors and a group of Slytherins that was blocking the entrance to a corridor, was one of the first in line at the door. Word came through Dudley that Ginny’s information was extremely valuable. Ron, Hermione and Ginny exchanged secret smiles when they read this. They knew the end was close. In the meantime, Hermione got it into her head that the DA needed to be reformed and contacted all of the former members via their Galleons. Surprisingly, almost every original DA member had been keeping their coins in their pockets hoping a meeting would be called, and at the first meeting nearly thirty students showed up. The group voted Neville Longbottom its president and charged him, Ginny, Ron and Hermione with teaching the members what they had learned from their instructors last year. They also planned a few ‘surprises’ for the Slytherins whom they felt had too much authority under Professor Snape’s leadership and ended the meeting with a review of the Shield Charm that was very successful indeed. Now three weeks, two detentions for pranking Slytherins–one of which she had helped plan but not executed–and four DA meetings later, Ginny walked onto the Quidditch pitch with Ron for their afternoon practice. They both had their eyes on the sky as they always did whenever they were outside. So far, they hadn’t seen Hedwig, and Ron was beginning to get nervous about it. “We should have heard something from Mum by now,” he complained as Demelza waved to them from her position high in the air and yelled, “Hey Captain, what’s kept you?” to which Ron responded, “Later.” Ginny shook her head at him. “Give it another day or two. Mum said there were a lot of holes in that particular Scottish cheese in her last letter,” Ginny told him. Her analogy made Ron chuckle. “OK. I’ll be patient,” he said, swinging his leg over his broom. Ginny did the same and the two joined the rest of the team in the air. Ginny, who had taken over the Seeker’s position after Harry disappeared, joined the other players in several passing drills until Ron released the Snitch. She concentrated on the little golden ball as it wove between the Chasers and soared around the goal posts. She had just caught it for the second time, when she caught sight of something that made her heart soar; Hedwig was winging her way over the Forbidden Forest. Hoping to catch the owl’s attention, Ginny flew towards her and then landed in the highest section of bleachers in the stadium. Hedwig landed next to her and stuck out her leg. As she relieved the owl of her letter Ginny said, “It’s really good to see you, but it’s not safe for you to be here, Hedwig. The Death Eaters will know something is up if you suddenly show up in the Owlery.” Hedwig turned her head towards the forest. “Yes, I think it’s best if you leave. Thank you for delivering Mum’s letter.” Hedwig stayed long enough to watch Ginny open the letter, then took off. Ginny watched as the owl circled the school and became a speck in the southern sky. A melancholy smile graced her lips as she turned her attention to the letter. Mrs Weasley hadn’t bothered to be careful with her letter. Instead it read, Dear Professor McGonagall, There has been a death in our family and Ron and Ginny are needed at home for the next few days. Also, as Hermione Granger is a family friend and knew the deceased, I would appreciate it if she could be allowed to come with Ron and Ginny. Services will be this weekend. Please send my children and Hermione home after classes end for the week this Friday. They will return in time for lessons on Monday morning at the latest. Sincerely, Molly Weasley Excitedly, Ginny mounted her broom and flew down to show the letter to Ron. He cut practice short, promising a longer one upon his return, and together with Ginny sprinted across the lawn to the castle doors. It took nearly twenty-four hours for Ron, Ginny and Hermione to get permission to leave the school. Professor McGonagall had given her approval right away, but when he heard of their departure, Professor Carrow insisted on checking his records for newly assigned detentions that would need to be fulfilled before he would let them leave. Finally, at lunchtime on the day they were to leave, Professor McGonagall sent word that they had permission to go home. Later that night, as she lay in bed trying to fall asleep, Ginny sent her thoughts out to Harry. Hold on just a little longer, Harry. We’re coming to get you out of there very, very soon. She hoped with all her heart that he had heard her. A/N: For those of you who are very anxious for Harry’s rescue to take place, you’ll see the beginnings of it in the next chapter. That particular chapter is also from Ginny’s point of view for the simple reason that I completely deleted the original Chapter 18 and had to rewrite it from memory. As things usually go when something like that happens to me, the second version was so long that I ended up splitting it in two. In hindsight, I actually think my mistake benefited the story by providing more room for me to make the chapters more exciting and realistic. I sincerely hope you enjoyed this chapter. Many thanks go out to my pre-beta team of Jedi34 and GhostWriter who took the time to give me their encouragement and criticism which ultimately made the chapter better. I also thank my betas Aggiebell and Genesse whose comments and suggestions keep me on my toes providing them with my intentions and ideas behind various things included in the chapter. Thank you, too, to all those who left their remarks about previous chapters in the reviews. Your comments are the encouragement that keeps me pushing forward toward the end of my tale. |
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