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Not From Others | ||||||
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Category: Post-HBP, Post-DH/AB Characters:Harry/Ginny, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, General Warnings: Dark Fiction, Death, Extreme Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Negative Alcohol Use, Violence Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 348 Summary: She may not have been able to join Harry, Ron and Hermione, but Ginny refuses to go down without a fight. As war approaches, Ginny returns to Hogwarts to resurrect Dumbledore's Army and face the darkest year the wizarding world has ever seen. DH from Ginny's POV. Canon. Hitcount: Story Total: 108209; Chapter Total: 4169 Awards: View Trophy Room |
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The hooded figures surrounded them, watching menacingly. She could hear crashes coming from the direction of the house, and every now and then someone would be dragged, often shrieking, back into the marquee and forced unceremoniously to sit on the floor with the rest of them, huddled together and trapped by a ring of Death Eaters and corrupt Ministry officials. Her heart was pounding in her throat, she thought she might be sick. She was trying to look around to make sure Harry, Hermione and Ron had got away, but the Death Eaters were watching them all carefully. Tonks was next to her, and it was only when she grasped her hand and rubbed it reassuringly that Ginny realized she was shaking slightly. Where was her Gryffindor spirit now? ‘Where’s your youngest boy then?’ a Death Eater asked Molly loudly. He seemed familiar to Ginny, with a thin black moustache and a tall stature. ‘Did he not want to join in the party?’ ‘He’s very sick,’ replied Molly coldly. Ginny was astounded at the steely resilience on her mother’s face. She had always assumed that her mother would be the first to break down and cry in these situations. ‘Oh is he?’ sneered the Death Eater, approaching. His accent had a slight East London twang — not as thick as Dung’s, but enough to sound both sinister and eerily friendly at the same time. ‘Yes,’ said Molly firmly. ‘He’s sick in bed at the moment. Spattergroit, according to the Healers. I’m happy to bring you to him.’ ‘I’ll show him,’ said Arthur loudly, getting to his feet. The surrounding Death Eaters all pointed their wands to him, and Madam Delacour gave a slight squeal. The East London Death Eater gave a slight chuckle. ‘Nah, you’re all right, mate. Sit down. You three!’ He whistled at a Death Eater and two cold looking Ministry workers. ‘Go with this lovely lady and check on her son, see if he can make it out of bed to join in our little chat.’ Her mother rose with dignity, and silently led the three out of the marquee, ignoring their wands pressed against her back. ‘No one else outside, MacNair,’ said an eager voice. With a lurch, Ginny recognized both of them at once. The eager voice belonged to the once friendly conductor of the Knight Bus, and MacNair had been at the Department of Mysteries the night Sirius died. With a little satisfaction, she remembered how Neville had poked him hard in the eye with his wand. ‘Good work, Stan…’ he surveyed the small group that had not been quick enough, or hadn’t been able, to Disapparate to safety. ‘We might as well begin even without Mumma Weasley.’ Several Death Eaters laughed. MacNair began to pace around the circle. Ginny turned to watch him, using the chance to look for Harry, Ron and Hermione. Hagrid had managed to get away, as had Muriel and the Lovegoods, but several guests still remained. She caught George’s eye. He looked away, but pretended to rub his missing ear. In the briefest flash, she saw his fingers form an ‘OK’ symbol. Her sigh of relief came in shudders. ‘You the ‘appy couple?’ MacNair asked, stopping in front of Bill and Fleur. Bill looked up at him. ‘Clearly,’ he said coldly. It did look a little ridiculous; Fleur’s beautiful ivory dress pooled around her as she sat on the now scuffed and dirty dance floor. Glimmering confetti still rested on the shoulders of Bill’s dress robes. ‘Well I am sorry to interrupt your ‘appy celebrations. Really, I am, you look beautiful, sweetheart,’ said MacNair tauntingly to Fleur’s furious face. ‘I wouldn’t want yah to think I was doing this just to be a dick. Nah, nah… we’re looking for someone. Thought he might be here.’ Everyone was very still and silent. It was obvious who they were looking for, but playing dumb was by far the safer option. ‘As you can see,’ said Bill carefully. ‘Most of our guests Disapparated. Unless you can see whoever it is you’re looking for, I think you should leave.’ ‘Come on now, mate,’ said MacNair softly. ‘We’re reasonable people. You know who we’re looking for.’ He turned and addressed the group. ‘Harry Potter! Anyone seen him? Recognizable chap.’ The majority of the guests gathered there were not aware that Harry had been there, so gave genuine expressions of bewilderment. The Weasleys and the Order members also did their best to look confused, well aware that the dozen or so Death Eaters surrounding them were watching them closely. ‘Anyone seen ‘im?’ MacNair was gesturing wildly, as though trying to warm up a crowd before entertainment. ‘From what we’ve heard, he likes this family a lot, makes sense he’d be invited.’ ‘He wasn’t,’ said Bill calmly. ‘And as you can see, he’s not here.’ ‘All sorts of tricks you can do to change your appearance though, isn’t there?’ came a rasping new voice. Every hair on the back of Ginny’s neck stood up, as with horror she recognized Greyback stepping into the marquee. ‘Not much you can do about those scars though, eh Billy boy?’ Bill paled, his scars shining out more than ever, but he kept his expression as calm and collected as it had been before. ‘Get away,’ hissed Fleur. ‘You ‘ave no right to be here. Any of you. Potter iz not here.’ ‘No reason we can’t catch up with old friends,’ guffawed Greyback. Hoots of laughter were coming from the other Death Eaters too, but they were distracted by the return of Molly and the three that had escorted her to the house. ‘He’s disgusting,’ one of the men in Ministry robes said. ‘She’s not lying, that’s a near dying kid. I didn’t want to get anywhere near him. Revolting.’ ‘Proper contagious too,’ added the other. ‘I wasn’t going to bring him down here. Goyle and a few Ministry lot are still searching the place though. Nothing so far.’ MacNair grunted, and Molly was forced to sit back down. It was humiliating, sitting there like children, awkward and uncomfortable. But their wands had been gathered and placed in a box, which sat tauntingly on the raised platform where the band had been playing only half an hour ago. ‘Speaking of old friends,’ said Greyback suddenly. Tonks suddenly let go of Ginny’s hand, and held tightly onto Remus’s arm. Remus had closed his eyes, his lips pressed shut, breathing deeply. Greyback scuttled over to Lupin, a manic grin across his face, and crouched down low. ‘Why ‘ello, Remus, old pal. Long time.’ ‘Fenrir,’ said Remus pleasantly opening his eyes. Greyback’s face was inches from his own. ‘How’s your dad?’ ‘Passed away a few years ago, I’m afraid,’ said Remus lightly, as though conversing with an old classmate. ‘I was under the impression you knew. I believe we discussed it last year.’ ‘Pity,’ said Greyback. ‘He never did get round to apologizing to me.’ MacNair was walking over slowly, but Remus continued to stare into Greyback’s eyes calmly. ‘This is Lupin, is it?’ MacNair asked Greyback, surveying Remus closely. Ginny could hear Tonks breathing heavily. She was sitting so close to the couple that she could see every whisker on Greyback’s face. Greyback cackled. ‘Yep. We go way back, don’t we Remus?’ A chilling realization crept over Ginny, and she suddenly understood the thunderous, protective expression on Tonks’s face. ‘We do,’ agreed Remus, still keeping a polite tone. ‘Lift up yer shirt then, so everyone can see what an impression I left,’ said Greyback, and the Death Eaters howled with laughter. To Ginny’s astonishment, Lupin gave a faint smile. ‘I’m sure they can guess.’ ‘Actually, Lupin, I was hoping you’d be here,’ said MacNair. His voice was low and soft; more dangerous than he’d sounded all night. ‘You’re top of my list to question, as it ‘appens.’ Lupin looked genuinely surprised, and fairly worried, but continued to say nothing. ‘What’s Remus got to do with anything?’ asked Bill loudly. Ginny winced, wondering if now was the best time to antagonize Death Eaters. ‘You said you were looking for Harry Potter. If you’re going to interrogate my guests, you’ll need to give me a damn good reason.’ MacNair ignored Bill, and pulled Greyback away. He would have loomed over Remus even had they both been standing, but Remus stayed sitting, looking up defiantly. ‘Did you see Harry Potter here tonight?’ asked MacNair. ‘No.’ ‘Have you seen him recently?’ ‘No.’ ‘Like the guy?’ ‘Barely know him.’ ‘Funny,’ said MacNair. His voice was barely more than a whisper, but in the tense silence of the marquee, Ginny knew that everyone was listening. ‘I was under the impression you knew him quite well.’ ‘Not at all,’ said Remus casually. ‘He was one of my students some years ago, but he couldn’t have been older than thirteen then. I know him no better than the hundreds of other children I taught that year.’ ‘Dawlish!’ MacNair suddenly barked, and everyone in the marquee jumped. A wiry-haired man in Ministry robes hurried over. ‘That file, please.’ Dawlish handed a thick beige file to MacNair, who began leafing through it as though browsing a magazine. ‘Fuck you, Dawlish,’ Tonks shouted after the man. ‘Confunded my arse.’ ‘Pipe down, missy,’ said one of the Death Eaters surrounding them, aiming his wand at her scowling face. Lupin squeezed Tonks’s knee tightly, though Ginny couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be comforting or a warning. ‘D’you know Dawlish then?’ asked MacNair offhandedly. ‘Obviously,’ spat Tonks. ‘How’s that?’ Something was wrong. MacNair’s smile was disturbing, and Tonks suddenly looked wary. ‘He’s an old colleague. An Auror.’ ‘An Auror! That’s right!’ said MacNair dramatically, slapping his head as though he’d forgotten. ‘Quite a good one too. Top level security clearance. You’ll know the records room, won’t yah?’ Tonks looked confused, she looked at Remus, who shook his head, returning her expression. ‘Yes… Yes, I know it.’ ‘What’s in there then?’ MacNair asked. He sounded like a teacher trying to draw an answer out of a petulant child. ‘All the case studies… Records of old investigations… Analysis of evidence…’ MacNair nodded, humming his agreement. ‘And in the cage? Did you have clearance for that an’ all?’ Tonks was suddenly very still. ‘I did,’ she said. ‘Dawlish does too,’ said MacNair. ‘It’s where they keep their most interesting cases, isn’t it? All the good stuff.’ He was still browsing the file. ‘I was interested in a few, so Dawlish got them for me. I thought they might help. You see, Potter is a matter of criminal interest.’ ‘Harry? A criminal?’ interrupted Fred. He was looking at MacNair with a mixture of revulsion and amusement. ‘You’re bonkers.’ MacNair glanced at him shrewdly. ‘We’ll have a chat in a bit, you and me… But yes, Dawlish ‘ere is in charge of a new investigation, to find the murderer Harry Potter. Wanted for the death of Albus Dumbledore.’ It was laughable, and the crowd began to shout unintelligibly at MacNair, who ignored them, still reading his file. The surrounding Death Eaters shouted back, before one of them waved his wand and Ginny suddenly found herself unable to speak. ‘Now this particular file,’ said MacNair, tapping it lightly with a hand. ‘This file is about Mr and Mrs Potter. It’s got everything you could ever want to know about their case. Have you read it, blondie?’ Ginny felt a cold fury course through her veins, down to the tips of her fingers which she clenched into a fist. She was apalled at the way he was handling it, disgusted by his tone, as though he were recommending a good book, horrified by what could be in there. Tonks looked equally revolted. ‘I had to, once. As part of training.’ ‘Well, it’s fascinating. I was particularly interested to see the name Remus Lupin pop up though.’ He looked down at Remus, who had gone very pale, and was breathing deeply. ‘Says here you identified the bodies.’ ‘That’s right,’ said Remus stiffly. ‘Must have been funny,’ said MacNair, his voice once again so gentle that it sounded more threatening than before. ‘Seeing them there, lying in that grim morgue at the Ministry, all pale and stiff and lifeless… Says here you took responsibility to arrange their funeral too.’ Remus nodded, getting paler by the second. ‘I did.’ ‘So… you were close to them then?’ There was a long pause. Ginny was shaking, she wanted to look away, wanted to clap her hands over her ears so she couldn’t hear, but some twisted part of her was forcing her to pay close attention. ‘I… I was close to James at school,’ said Remus carefully. ‘We lost touch after we left Hogwarts, but I was just the easiest person to arrange that sort of thing, so Dumbledore contacted me.’ ‘But you were friends with James Potter? Good friends?’ ‘At school, yes,’ said Remus, his voice hoarse. ‘Because,’ said MacNair loudly, taking a step back and once again addressing the entire group. ‘I don’t know if you’re aware, but there are photos in this file. Now, I never met James Potter.’ He held up a hand as though admitting an ignorance. His voice was so cheerful and excited that it seemed to suck all strength out of Ginny; she felt they had lost already, so soon was this Death Eater celebrating. ‘Nah, I never met him, but I have met Harry Potter.’ He took a large photo out of the file. Oh, God, no. Please no. ‘And it struck me how much young Harry looks like his daddy!’ he shouted, holding the photo up to the crowd. It was Harry, unmistakably Harry. Dead. Dead and still, his face pale and waxy looking, eyes closed behind glasses, messy hair against cold, dull metal. There was a rushing sound in her ears and she couldn’t help the tears falling, because photos were supposed to move but there he was lying still and unmoving, eternally lying on a metal trolley, frozen in time- The Death Eaters were bent double laughing at the distraught reactions of their prisoners. People were screaming obscenities, crying and staring up at the photo through trembling fingers. Gabrielle was sobbing into her mother’s chest, a look of terror on her angelic face, and the twins had stood up, ready to run at MacNair, but were both hit with nasty jelly-legs jinxes from Stan Shunpike. ‘Now it seems to me,’ said MacNair loudly, bringing the photo down to just a foot away from Remus’s face. ‘That a man who was so close to James Potter that he was called up to identify the body, that organized the funeral, that even picked the epitaph for his grave… seems unlikely that he would treat the son who looks so much like him as “any other student”… Seems more like he’d be particularly attached… Don’t you agree?’ Remus was breathing heavily, desperately looking away from the picture. ‘I… I admit that when I met Harry it was… difficult. Upsetting. He just looked too… too similar. Hence why I couldn’t bear to get too close. Like I said, I haven’t seen him since I was a teacher at Hogwarts, which was some years ago.’ Now the photo was so much closer to her, Ginny could see the slight differences that showed that it was not Harry. There was obviously no scar, but Harry’s nose was shorter than this man’s, and his glasses were not rectangular like those in the picture. But now her heart broke for Remus, and she was filled with a strong desire to attack MacNair; to punch, scratch, kick and bite. ‘Maybe… Maybe…’ said MacNair. ‘Or perhaps you’re lying. I think you do know where he is. Or you have some ideas about where he could be.’ ‘No, not at all.’ ‘I have lots more photos,’ said MacNair. ‘You’ll have recognized that one because it was taken in the same place that you identified them, but these ones…’ he rifled through the folder. ‘These were taken at the scene.’ He held up a photograph of a hallway, and with a lurch Ginny could see a dark haired figure, crumpled on the ground. She looked away quickly. She did not want to see that. Remus made a choking noise. ‘You can show me as many as you want,’ he said, his voice shaking. ‘Doesn’t change the fact that I can’t help you.’ Ginny kept her gaze fixed away, staring at the horrified expressions of Lee Jordan and an old classmate of Bill’s that had been too drunk to Apparate. ‘Is this blondie your wife?’ MacNair was asking. ‘Pretty girl. Feisty girl.’ ‘Leave her alone,’ said Remus harshly, his voice darker than Ginny had ever heard it before. ‘Remus knows I like the girls…’ said Greyback, prowling into view again. ‘And I like it when they fight back… Lovely girls and little children, that’s what I like best…’ ‘I’d heard that Mrs Potter was pretty,’ said MacNair, more sinisterly than ever. ‘And then I found this photo and turns out it was true, she was… Even in death… Just look at those eyes… Great beauty doesn’t stop wives getting killed…’ Remus’s pained cry mixed with the sound of cruel laughter and jeering from the Death Eaters. There was a dull bang and Ginny turned back to see her father staggering backwards, clutching his nose, blood pouring from between his fingers. ‘Didn’t I tell you to sit down?’ roared MacNair furiously. ‘You’re all pissing me off. You do not want to piss me off. Now, Lupin’s no help but what about the rest of you?’ He began to walk around the crowd, pointing his wand in people’s faces and holding the file in the other. ‘Do you know where he is? Do you know where he is? You? No? Do you know where he is? Have you seen him lately?’ he sounded bored, frustration was starting to shadow his face. ‘Come on now you lot, we’re trying to catch a murderer! It’s your civic duty…’ ‘Nobody has seen him because he wasn’t here!’ exclaimed Bill. ‘And even if he had been, he’d have Apparated somewhere else when you lot showed up.’ ‘Now where do you think he would have gone?’ asked MacNair. ‘I know a load of you were friendly with him, you must have some idea.’ A furious silence filled the marquee. MacNair suddenly lurched forwards and grabbed Fred by the hair, dragging him to the edge of the group, as Fred’s legs were still useless. George was screaming for Fred, and so was Molly, but MacNair pulled him into a sitting position, still gripping his ginger hair tightly. Fred glared up at him. ‘I told you we’d be having a chat.’ ‘Fuck you,’ said Fred. ‘You and me? We’re going to have a fall out if you keep talking like that,’ said MacNair. ‘Now, we don’t want to get violent, that’s not what the Ministry does. But it’s very important we get Potter before he kills again, understand? So, really, the means justify the ends, don’t they?’ Fred stayed silent, his fists clenched. Ginny suddenly couldn’t stop thinking about Fred and George taunting her and Harry, saying that they knew something… ‘You seem very defensive of Potter. Good friends?’ ‘None of your business.’ Ginny’s heart sank — why couldn’t Fred just follow Lupin’s lead? McNair gave Fred a short slap around the head, and pointed his finger sternly in his face. ‘I don’t have time for that kind of bullshit. I know Potter was friendly with this family, so there’s no point messing me about. Are you good friends with him?’ Fred opened his mouth, ready to respond with what was likely to be another swear word, but Molly quickly stood up. ‘All my boys know him,’ she said hurriedly. ‘He visited a few times. But we haven’t seen him all summer.’ ‘He hasn’t been here?’ ‘No.’ MacNair walked over to her, pointing his wand at her throat. ‘If you are lying to me, we will find out. We are searching your house top to bottom. If we find anything that suggests he’s been here lately, you will be regarded as an accomplice.’ ‘He hasn’t been here in a long time,’ repeated Molly. MacNair looked at her coldly for a long time, but Molly just stared straight back. Ginny felt a swell of pride for her mother’s bravery, but it must have showed on her face, because suddenly MacNair was looking at her with a piercing gaze. ‘Sit down,’ he muttered at Molly, still looking at Ginny. He approached her like a big cat would approach prey, and towered above her menacingly. ‘Hello,’ she said confidently, breaking the silence. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Fred give an appreciative grin. MacNair did not look amused that she had interrupted his intimidation tactic. ‘And who are you?’ he asked. ‘Ginny Weasley.’ With significant relief, she realized that he did not recognize her from the Department of Mysteries. ‘The youngest Weasley child, MacNair,’ offered one of the Death Eaters. ‘The year below Potter.’ ‘Ah, so you must have known him quite well then?’ ‘Not really. He was in the year above, we didn’t share any classes.’ She felt a burning strength rise up in her in the face of his questioning, defiance running through her veins. ‘You seemed very upset when you saw that picture though… Is it because he looks so much like that?’ ‘No,’ said Ginny coolly. ‘Brandishing round a picture of any corpse is disturbing. Of course I was going to be upset, no matter who it was.’ She chanced a brief glance at Remus, who still looked pale and was staring dully at the floor. ‘You don’t want to see more then?’ asked MacNair, opening the file again. ‘Like I said, it’s very disturbing.’ ‘You know, in here they really have detailed everything. It’s really quite impressive how thorough it is. For example, did you know that Mrs Potter left her wand in the kitchen? Or that the plates from dinner still hadn’t been cleared away? Mr Potter was also part way through writing a letter to a friend, it was found in the study.’ He too, was now glancing at Remus, who continued to stare dully at the golden floor. ‘I don’t see how any of this is relevant,’ said Ginny boldly. She was gaining an odd sense of confidence. She had always been good at lying; growing up with Fred and George had taught her some useful skills for wriggling out of trouble. He crouched down to meet her eye level, his creepy moustache highlighting his smirk. ‘I just thought you might be interested. They are interesting details. It was an interesting case.’ ‘It means very little to me. I was barely two months old.’ He held up a photo. In it, a black-haired baby was screaming at the camera, trickles of blood crawling down his face from a brutal lightning-shaped gash in his forehead. ‘This was taken just before he was cleaned up and taken to live with his relatives. What do you think of it?’ Her heart was thudding, but she forced herself to keep her emotions in check, hoping her face looked calm. ‘It’s a very sad picture.’ ‘But it doesn’t distress you?’ ‘Not especially.’ He looked disappointed; his joy at taunting his prisoners was lessening as he struggled to get useful information. ‘Do you believe Potter may have returned to Godric’s Hollow?’ ‘I don’t know,’ said Ginny, honestly this time. ‘We were never close enough to talk about that place. Like I said, I didn’t know him that well.’ ‘Has he ever mentioned special places to you? Places he would hide?’ ‘I already told you, I didn’t know him that well.’ MacNair swore and turned away, picking someone else, seemingly at random to interrogate. Ginny took the chance to shuffle closer to Tonks, who embraced her with one arm, and leant across her lap to Lupin. ‘Remus,’ she whispered. ‘Remus, are you OK?’ He turned his head and looked at her slowly. He looked old, and unhappier than Ginny had ever seen him. He gave a brief nod and looked back at the ground. He seemed to be swaying slightly. Ginny hugged close to Tonks, no longer listening to MacNair’s interrogation. He had run out of ammunition, and had now resorted to repeating the same questions, over and over, with increasing desperation to every guest. The night air was making her shiver, and the dance floor and tight dress kept her permanently uncomfortable. She scrunched up her eyes, praying that Harry, Ron and Hermione were safe, and thinking desperately of happy summer afternoons by the lake. She could hear Lee passionately insisting that he hadn’t seen Harry that night, and Tonks had pulled Lupin to her other side, gripping them both as Ginny continued to shake. Their breath swirled before them in the cold night air, and it felt as though a Dementor was present, though Ginny knew there wasn’t. Moths had begun to enter the tent, attracted by the floating lanterns, so Ginny watched them helplessly beating themselves at the glass. Hours passed, before long the Death Eaters had to admit defeat. Every guest had been questioned, nobody could give any indication that he had been there. Stan Shunpike began handing them back their wands; Ginny was sorely tempted to send a vicious Bat Bogey hex his way, but exhaustion and fear that they would be forced to stay in the marquee for even longer helped her resist. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed her father shuffle to the edge of the marquee, unseen by the Death Eaters, and subtly send a streak of silver into the night sky. People were beginning to Disapparate, Lee swiftly embracing the twins before going, and a pair of hands draped a shawl over her shoulders. She turned, and the lined face of her mother was smiling sadly at her. ‘You were very brave,’ said Molly, pulling her into a hug. It was as though her mother had flicked a switch, and suddenly all the emotions and thoughts and memories she had been suppressing had been unleashed. Molly was sobbing now, free to show her emotions now that her family was safe, and she had returned to the same frightened woman that Ginny had comforted in the kitchen just a few days ago. Ginny gritted her teeth and clenched her eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears, but they fell anyway, hot and sticky on her cold face, images of corpses and anguished men and screaming children flashing through her mind. |
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