Dunno if any of you are Harry Potter fans... but I decided what the hell... and have put up the second fic I have been working on.
One year ago…
All of the members of the Order of the Phoenix were there, led by Dumbledore at his most solemn and the grandest that Harry had ever seen him. Beside him stood Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks, the two members of the Order that Harry had the most contact with. He only wished that Sirius could have been present, but he was killed by Voldemort and his death eaters seven years before. This would be for Sirius, for Sirius and for his parents, but everyone had a reason to hate Voldemort…
Around the room there were wizards and witches, young and old. Harry was able to pick out the faces of several of his former classmates all ready to take up the fight. There was Seamus Finnegan, Parvarti Patil, Dean Thomas, Oliver Wood, and even Neville Longbottom—he really was a true Gryffindor now, a far change from the timid and clumsy boy he’d been entering into his first year at Hogwarts. Sitting nearby were Harry’s two best friends, Ron and Hermione, sitting so very close, their hands reaching for the other, but not quite touching. He wished that they would just admit it to each other already. They were both much moodier when they were lovesick. Besides, though Harry was confident that they’d triumph tonight, there had already been heavy losses among their ranks and there were no guarantees. He wouldn’t want to die without having told Ginny how he felt. Harry turned to the girl in question, her left hand interlaced with his right. There was no chance of that though. He had asked Ginny not to come today, but she being who she was hadn’t listened. Giving her a faint smile, he cast his gaze back to the room, examining their determined faces as they prepared to move out, determination that he knew was mirrored in his own expression.
Harry’s scar itched, but for once he didn’t care. Today Lord Voldemort would be defeated for good and maybe he would finally live up to his birthright.
They went in groups. Hermione was with Ron, Harry, Dumbledore, Lupin, and Ginny. They received information that the Death eaters were planning something big, so the Order had to strike first. Gripping her wand tightly in her hand, Hermione glanced at Ron, some part of her wishing that she were gripping his hand in stead.
Enough nonsense Hermione.
Reminding herself that she was a clear thinking, bright, and independent young woman she took a step away from Ron and concentrated fully on what was in front of her; the twisting corridors of Lucius Malfoy’s mansion. They had snuck in instead of apparating so as not to set off any alarms that were triggered by spell use. It would only be a matter of time though before the Death Eaters realized they were there, but hopefully they’d get to them before they dispersed and attacked back themselves. The whole purpose was the fight, but Hermione would much prefer that they caught the evil wizards and witches off guard in order to the lower the number of casualties for their side. Disabling the stray death eaters around the mansion, they kept heading towards the inner sanctum, where Voldemort would be with his closest, preparing to cast their spell.
As they turned into the wide hall that led to the chamber and the fighting began in earnest. Hermione for once had no time to think, only to act. She kept fighting even as they broke through to the inner chamber and there they all were, the inner circle, the most evil death eaters of them all and in the center Voldemort himself. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Harry and Dumbledore move forward, but Harry got there first. She had no time to watch though as a curse went flying her way. She countered it quickly, facing the death eater, that sniveling rat, Peter Pettigrew and they were off. Then almost as suddenly as the fight began, a flash of light filled the room. Something was happening. Harry and Voldemort both kneeled, facing each other, their wands touching and a strange energy passing between them. All the fighting ceased as those still able turned to watch.
Harry stepped forward, ignoring the fighting that broke out around him. He was intent on just one thing, Voldemort. He knew he had to make it there before Dumbledore. Ultimately, this was his fight, Dumbledore would not succeed. A spell left his lips, creating an area so even Dumbledore couldn’t interfere. Confidently, he turned back to the cloaked figure of Lord Voldemort.
“So, it’s just you and me boy.” His voice came out in a sibilant whisper and Harry could just barely see the sepulcher face in the hood, grinning like a corpse.
Harry smiled faintly, though his green eyes remained cold. He tilted his head to one side.
“Not for long.”
His meaning was utterly clear and the dark lord laughed.
“We’re not so different you and I… Don’t you see?”
As he spoke, he lifted his wand causing Harry to raise his in response and a crackle of energy jumped between them, sending an electric shock through Harry’s system. In that flicker of a second, a thousand voices had called to him in the sibilant sounds of parseltongue, bringing him into awareness. He looked around at everything and everyone as if seeing it all for the very first time. There was… possibility. A slow smile spread across his face, why didn’t he see this before? He could do anything. He’d get them all for what they’d done to him and more besides.
“You’re right. So why would I need you? Avada Kadavra!”
A green light shone out of his wand and he found himself pleased by how easily the unforgivable curse had left his lips. As he extended the wand, Voldemort flung his out in defense against the curse and their wands touched like a unicorn's kiss. A brilliant light encompassed them both and he fell to his knees at the power flooding through him, a steady current moving away from Voldemort and into him.
“You’re free now, boy.” The man who had been little more then an animated corpse crumpled to the floor, but the voices kept on whispering into Harry’s mind. Telling him so many things… As realization dawned on his face, his gaze hardened and he turned to Dumbledore.
“You’ve been holding me back.” He said it casually, but there was a manic gleam in his eye. He couldn’t believe it, he had trusted him. Dumbledore gave him a sad look.
“My boy, I—“
“I don’t want to hear it!” Harry’d had enough of the old man’s lies. He felt utterly betrayed, and he wanted… he wanted nothing more then to see him die. The curse left his lips even more swiftly then before and as they did, Dumbledore’s face formed an expression that seemed almost one of surrender. He’d seen the worst, so it didn’t matter anymore. The old man slumped and his broken body lay sprawled on the ground right next to Lord Voldemort’s… no just Voldemort, he was not a lord any longer.
How fitting.
Harry turned to face the rest of the people in the room, calling out to the death eaters in his head forcing them to obey him. These were his new allies now… no, his underlings. Harry smiled, a vicious light glinting in his emerald eyes as he moved into action.
Fleur was worried. She knew it had been a bad idea for her parents to send Gabrielle to Hogwarts, especially after all that went on during the Triwizard cup. Hogwarts was dangerous and even worse it produced fanatics such as Harry Potter, so intent on bringing down Lord Voldemort, they had no sense of self-preservation, and unfortunately those like her sister Gabrielle as well. That was the real problem. A cause was all well and good, but not when you are fifteen years old and shouldn’t be meddling with the affairs of adult death eaters. Gabrielle had gotten sucked up along with that crusade that seemed to have taken over the entire school. She couldn’t believe the Order of the Phoenix had let her come along, though knowing her sister, they probably didn’t even know she had come, and that was why Fleur was here in this dank, though at least somewhat tasteful mansion, in the middle of a huge melee between the Order of the Phoenix and the Deatheaters. Realizing she would never find her sister by just searching, she waved her wand to cast a quick locator spell. A silvery green ball of light no bigger then a small fairy appeared, hovering for a moment in the air before zipping off. Fleur followed, leaving the safety of the closet that she had apparated into and out into the fray.
She didn’t want any part of this fight; she just wanted to find her sister. This didn’t keep people from attacking her, but she was driven, she downed them before the spells could even leave their lips and kept on running. As she ran though, something changed, instead of the Death eaters fleeing, it was the members of the Order. She heard bits of whispers as they went past, but nothing that made a whole lot of sense.
“Harry Potter… insane… Dumbledore…death eaters… dead.”
She wanted to stop and ask what was going on, but she didn’t have time. She was now even more desperate to find Gabrielle. Finally the witchlight veered off into a small room, a library and there she found her sister sprawled out on the ground. A curse had hit her. As Fleur approached she saw her eyes staring wide up at the ceiling and she was sure was dead, but then they flickered. Fleur pressed her hand to here sister’s cheek patting it gently trying to figure out what curse it had been.
“Gabrielle, ma petite, can you hear me?”
Fleur looked around frantically trying to decide what to do. Just as she turned back to her sister, she heard a footstep behind her. Standing up, she whirled around, her wand out in front of her and came face to face with a disheveled blonde man in death eater garb. After a moment she realized she recognized him. Draco Malfoy. They both stood frozen in place waiting to see what the other would do. He had obviously lost his wand in the battle and hers was poised at his throat, ready to curse him if he made the wrong mood. He gazed at her with a hard look that couldn’t quite hide his haunted and weary eyes. Finally he spoke.
“Well are you going to do it or not?”
Fleur shrugged, she wasn’t sure what she was going to do.
“Is Voldemort dead? Did the Order fail? What happened?”
Draco began to laugh, but there was no humor in it.
“Harry bloody Potter happened. Oh Voldemort’s dead alright, but so is Dumbledore. He killed them both.”
“What, wh—“
Draco cut in. “Look, if you aren’t going to curse me with that thing, get it out of my face.”
Finally Fleur let the wand fall then turned back to her kneel beside Gabrielle.
“I’m just here for my sister.”
“Good for you. I’m getting the hell out of here. So if you’ll excuse me.”
Draco moved towards the wall and began fiddling around with the bookshelf finally when he grabbed a large black one and as he pulled on it, a door way opened behind the book shelves. Fleur knew when she came in that she wouldn’t be able to apparate out again, there were wards for that.
“That leads out? I’m coming too.”
Draco just kept walking, but he left the passage open. Casting a spell to make her sister lighter, Fleur picked her up and followed.
--Two Days Later--
Ginny sat in her room her legs drawn up as she stared out the window, her eyes red-rimmed and dull though the she had long since spent the last of her tears.
How could this have happened?
She’d wanted an explanation, there had to be a reason, it was one of Voldemort’s spells, but no. Harry’s words were his own and she understood him well enough to recognize that. She had been under Voldemort’s possession herself once, she knew what it was like, and that wasn’t it. As much as it hurt, his actions were his own. He killed Dumbledore-- killed everyone of his own free will. The Death eaters changed their allegiance quickly enough and their attack was amazingly even stronger then before as Harry directed them towards specific people. The first to die had been Severus Snape. He was the one who had led them to the meeting and was a loyal member of the Order of the Phoenix, despite his personality problems of which there were many. Harry had always hated him and vice versa. The next person to die was Bellatrix Black Lestrange, “for Sirius.” What came as more of a surprise was when he killed Pavarti Patil who foolishly spoke out against his actions within spellrange. There was a choice, Harry had told them, join him or die. Of all the things to happen after Voldemort’s death, no one had expected this. Lupin called the retreat, but Ginny had no intention of listening. She had always been the one to call Harry out when he was being a jerk, maybe he’d listen now when what he was doing was so much worse. She was about to go to him when a hand grabbed her arm pulling her back. She barely recognized Oliver Wood in her distress and continued to struggle for a minute with him as Fred, George, Ron, and Hermione came to her side. Seeing that they were all beginning to draw the half-crazed Harry’s attention, Ginny resigned herself to it and they all escaped.
That was two days ago and in those two days Harry had since gone back to his muggle family and made them all dance to his bidding with the Imperius curse before finally ending it with the killing curse. Ginny felt physically ill when she heard about it. From there he immediately began to hunt down several wizards and witches of the order. Most had died, but a few had apparently joined him. No one could put up any resistance. She knew Harry was powerful, but no one realized the extent of it, and somehow killing Voldemort had only made him more so. After all he managed to kill the greatest wizard of the time, Albus Dumbledore. The survivors had to scatter, Ginny and her brothers only managed to make it home that morning and they couldn’t stay long. The house had been her home all her life and she’d have to leave it before Harry came after them.
As that thought entered her mind, Ginny suddenly realized how quiet it was. She was in the highest room in the house, but the Weasleys were noisy people, and sound carried. She should be hearing something. Ginny was about to turn away from the window when a flash of witch light caught her eyes. There was someone outside. Reaching for her wand, she made her way across the room and as she quietly slid the door open. Noise assailed her ears. The quiet had been a spell. With great dread she descended the stairs forcing herself to face the unfamiliar voices in order to find her family.
She saw her arm first, sprawled out, and when she took another step she saw her mother’s ginger hair framing a pale and lifeless face. Placing her hand to her mouth lest she cry out, she continued down, drawn to the sight. She reached the open door to the kitchen, but stayed back as she looked [/i] A man with black hair knelt over one of the bodies, even from the back she recognized him. It was Harry. Unconsciously, she took a step back up the stairs when one of the old floorboards creaked. He turned and immediately focused on her, a smile appearing on his face.
“Ginny!”
He said it like he was happy to see her. As if she would be happy to see him. As if he weren’t standing over the body of her brother Percy. Before she could move or say anything, he strode forward, grabbing her arm and pulling her into a hug. Then like the flick of a switch, and immediately he began to sob.
“Ginny, Ginny, I’m sorry I had to. Forgive me.”
Ginny tried to pull away, her hand holding her wand in a death grip and he finally released her from the hug so he could see her response. Ginny tried to keep the anger from her voice when she spoke; she didn’t want to die without knowing if some of her family had escaped.
“Harry, why are you doing this? What have you done?”
He obviously didn’t like something in her tone and his hands tightened painfully around her arms. Harry looked down at her a strange look crossing his face.
“I had to, don’t you see. They betrayed me, all of them. They were worse then the Dursleys, they at least were open about it, not like your parents, pretending to take me under their wing. I was good though, their deaths were clean. I did that for you and for Ron… and that’s why I came back. Where is Ron by the way?”
As he spoke he pulled her along into the kitchen where there was more light. She shook her head at his question, but hope welled up within her. Ron is alive. “He--” Harry quickly cut her off.
“Never mind. I’ll find him, but what about you?”
Ginny was only half paying attention now, scanning the floor frantically, her heart breaking a little bit more as she came to rest on each face. She tried to ignore the death eaters in the room, but it was hard. Harry put both his hands on either side of her face, tilting it up and forcing her to look at him and not the bodies of her fallen family. His eyes burned with green fire and he did not look wholly sane.
“You will come with me won’t you Ginny. I love you. I can’t do it without you.”
Ginny thought quickly. If Ron was alive, where was he? What should she do?
“Harry, I, I need to think about it.”
It was as if a shutter fell down over his eyes and his expression grew blank. He let go of her.
“And what is there to think about?”
Before Ginny could reply he continued on, his voice hard.
“Fine, fine, I can be reasonable. You have two minutes.” Harry turned to face the Death eaters in the room. “Go search the house.”
As they filed out, Ginny suddenly remembered the clock, the one that told where everyone was, even to their location in the house. It wasn’t so strange that it was that specific, not when considering all the pranks they’d pulled growing up. The lights were all out now, all but three. Ginny, Ron, and Harry. His parents finally added one for Harry; they viewed him as another son. And he killed them. It was Ron’s though that she was interested in and her eyes followed the arrow on the clock Home---> Kitchen. Ginny’s eyes widened as she casually searched the room and as they came back to the clock she noticed a cabinet door near the exit slightly ajar. As she realized Harry had focused his attention on her again, Ginny saw him follow her gaze out of the corner of her I and knew she had to do something.
Ron…
With brothers like hers, lying was an act of self-preservation and if there was one thing Ginny could do it was act. She once convinced her own highly suspicious mother that a cat was responsible for setting dung bombs. She had imitated Umbridge to complete perfection and she could do this now, when it was so terribly important.
“Harry. I’m sorry. I was just understandably a bit shaken.” Ginny walked over to him and grabbing his hand, she smiled up at him.
“Of course I’ll go. I’m your girlfriend aren’t I? I’ll always forgive you. I love you.” Harry smiled pulling her closer for a kiss and Ginny could only hope that Ron would use the opportunity to get the hell out of there.
Ron had protested at first when his parents told him to hide, but understood the logic. He had to get to Ginny who was upstairs, completely oblivious to what was going on and he had to get the message to Lupin, if he was still alive. It was the greatest act of self-control ever not to burst out of his hiding place as his mum died, as his father and his brothers were slain by death eaters. He felt like a right coward, but he’d honor their wishes. Worst of all though was when Ginny came down. He’d expected that she too would tell Harry exactly what he could do with his offer to be a death eater. He was shocked not only to hear her agree, but to sound so damned happy about it. She bloody kissed the murderer! Well Ron wasn’t completely stupid. Disgusted, and outraged, yes, but he’d at least use his sister’s loathsome betrayal to get out of there. Harry had to be stopped. Slipping out the door, he disapparated, all the while thinking that he would have rather seen Ginny die then see that.
Traitor.
Luna Lovegood sat across from Hermione, her strange gaze fixed on the inside of her teacup as she listened quietly as the other girl explained what had happened. So Voldemort was dead and Harry Potter was now leader of the Death Eaters. How terribly distressing, if not completely unsurprising. The yellow-winged wyberts had been saying this for years, but did anybody listen? It was a good thing she owned The Quibbler now. She could see that these would be hard years ahead and people had to have good news to keep up with the times. Besides, it was perfectly obvious to Luna what had to be done. She’d just wait for the others to see it as well.
Absentmindedly Luna reached out to pat Hermione’s hand, not noticing when she missed and patted the cushion instead. She spoke mostly to herself than to Hermione.
“Well, first things first… unless you are a tweedle-faced nelwing.”
It would be a long, dark road ahead, but that was merely stating the obvious.
Prologue
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One year ago…
All of the members of the Order of the Phoenix were there, led by Dumbledore at his most solemn and the grandest that Harry had ever seen him. Beside him stood Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks, the two members of the Order that Harry had the most contact with. He only wished that Sirius could have been present, but he was killed by Voldemort and his death eaters seven years before. This would be for Sirius, for Sirius and for his parents, but everyone had a reason to hate Voldemort…
Around the room there were wizards and witches, young and old. Harry was able to pick out the faces of several of his former classmates all ready to take up the fight. There was Seamus Finnegan, Parvarti Patil, Dean Thomas, Oliver Wood, and even Neville Longbottom—he really was a true Gryffindor now, a far change from the timid and clumsy boy he’d been entering into his first year at Hogwarts. Sitting nearby were Harry’s two best friends, Ron and Hermione, sitting so very close, their hands reaching for the other, but not quite touching. He wished that they would just admit it to each other already. They were both much moodier when they were lovesick. Besides, though Harry was confident that they’d triumph tonight, there had already been heavy losses among their ranks and there were no guarantees. He wouldn’t want to die without having told Ginny how he felt. Harry turned to the girl in question, her left hand interlaced with his right. There was no chance of that though. He had asked Ginny not to come today, but she being who she was hadn’t listened. Giving her a faint smile, he cast his gaze back to the room, examining their determined faces as they prepared to move out, determination that he knew was mirrored in his own expression.
Harry’s scar itched, but for once he didn’t care. Today Lord Voldemort would be defeated for good and maybe he would finally live up to his birthright.
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They went in groups. Hermione was with Ron, Harry, Dumbledore, Lupin, and Ginny. They received information that the Death eaters were planning something big, so the Order had to strike first. Gripping her wand tightly in her hand, Hermione glanced at Ron, some part of her wishing that she were gripping his hand in stead.
Enough nonsense Hermione.
Reminding herself that she was a clear thinking, bright, and independent young woman she took a step away from Ron and concentrated fully on what was in front of her; the twisting corridors of Lucius Malfoy’s mansion. They had snuck in instead of apparating so as not to set off any alarms that were triggered by spell use. It would only be a matter of time though before the Death Eaters realized they were there, but hopefully they’d get to them before they dispersed and attacked back themselves. The whole purpose was the fight, but Hermione would much prefer that they caught the evil wizards and witches off guard in order to the lower the number of casualties for their side. Disabling the stray death eaters around the mansion, they kept heading towards the inner sanctum, where Voldemort would be with his closest, preparing to cast their spell.
As they turned into the wide hall that led to the chamber and the fighting began in earnest. Hermione for once had no time to think, only to act. She kept fighting even as they broke through to the inner chamber and there they all were, the inner circle, the most evil death eaters of them all and in the center Voldemort himself. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Harry and Dumbledore move forward, but Harry got there first. She had no time to watch though as a curse went flying her way. She countered it quickly, facing the death eater, that sniveling rat, Peter Pettigrew and they were off. Then almost as suddenly as the fight began, a flash of light filled the room. Something was happening. Harry and Voldemort both kneeled, facing each other, their wands touching and a strange energy passing between them. All the fighting ceased as those still able turned to watch.
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Harry stepped forward, ignoring the fighting that broke out around him. He was intent on just one thing, Voldemort. He knew he had to make it there before Dumbledore. Ultimately, this was his fight, Dumbledore would not succeed. A spell left his lips, creating an area so even Dumbledore couldn’t interfere. Confidently, he turned back to the cloaked figure of Lord Voldemort.
“So, it’s just you and me boy.” His voice came out in a sibilant whisper and Harry could just barely see the sepulcher face in the hood, grinning like a corpse.
Harry smiled faintly, though his green eyes remained cold. He tilted his head to one side.
“Not for long.”
His meaning was utterly clear and the dark lord laughed.
“We’re not so different you and I… Don’t you see?”
As he spoke, he lifted his wand causing Harry to raise his in response and a crackle of energy jumped between them, sending an electric shock through Harry’s system. In that flicker of a second, a thousand voices had called to him in the sibilant sounds of parseltongue, bringing him into awareness. He looked around at everything and everyone as if seeing it all for the very first time. There was… possibility. A slow smile spread across his face, why didn’t he see this before? He could do anything. He’d get them all for what they’d done to him and more besides.
“You’re right. So why would I need you? Avada Kadavra!”
A green light shone out of his wand and he found himself pleased by how easily the unforgivable curse had left his lips. As he extended the wand, Voldemort flung his out in defense against the curse and their wands touched like a unicorn's kiss. A brilliant light encompassed them both and he fell to his knees at the power flooding through him, a steady current moving away from Voldemort and into him.
“You’re free now, boy.” The man who had been little more then an animated corpse crumpled to the floor, but the voices kept on whispering into Harry’s mind. Telling him so many things… As realization dawned on his face, his gaze hardened and he turned to Dumbledore.
“You’ve been holding me back.” He said it casually, but there was a manic gleam in his eye. He couldn’t believe it, he had trusted him. Dumbledore gave him a sad look.
“My boy, I—“
“I don’t want to hear it!” Harry’d had enough of the old man’s lies. He felt utterly betrayed, and he wanted… he wanted nothing more then to see him die. The curse left his lips even more swiftly then before and as they did, Dumbledore’s face formed an expression that seemed almost one of surrender. He’d seen the worst, so it didn’t matter anymore. The old man slumped and his broken body lay sprawled on the ground right next to Lord Voldemort’s… no just Voldemort, he was not a lord any longer.
How fitting.
Harry turned to face the rest of the people in the room, calling out to the death eaters in his head forcing them to obey him. These were his new allies now… no, his underlings. Harry smiled, a vicious light glinting in his emerald eyes as he moved into action.
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Fleur was worried. She knew it had been a bad idea for her parents to send Gabrielle to Hogwarts, especially after all that went on during the Triwizard cup. Hogwarts was dangerous and even worse it produced fanatics such as Harry Potter, so intent on bringing down Lord Voldemort, they had no sense of self-preservation, and unfortunately those like her sister Gabrielle as well. That was the real problem. A cause was all well and good, but not when you are fifteen years old and shouldn’t be meddling with the affairs of adult death eaters. Gabrielle had gotten sucked up along with that crusade that seemed to have taken over the entire school. She couldn’t believe the Order of the Phoenix had let her come along, though knowing her sister, they probably didn’t even know she had come, and that was why Fleur was here in this dank, though at least somewhat tasteful mansion, in the middle of a huge melee between the Order of the Phoenix and the Deatheaters. Realizing she would never find her sister by just searching, she waved her wand to cast a quick locator spell. A silvery green ball of light no bigger then a small fairy appeared, hovering for a moment in the air before zipping off. Fleur followed, leaving the safety of the closet that she had apparated into and out into the fray.
She didn’t want any part of this fight; she just wanted to find her sister. This didn’t keep people from attacking her, but she was driven, she downed them before the spells could even leave their lips and kept on running. As she ran though, something changed, instead of the Death eaters fleeing, it was the members of the Order. She heard bits of whispers as they went past, but nothing that made a whole lot of sense.
“Harry Potter… insane… Dumbledore…death eaters… dead.”
She wanted to stop and ask what was going on, but she didn’t have time. She was now even more desperate to find Gabrielle. Finally the witchlight veered off into a small room, a library and there she found her sister sprawled out on the ground. A curse had hit her. As Fleur approached she saw her eyes staring wide up at the ceiling and she was sure was dead, but then they flickered. Fleur pressed her hand to here sister’s cheek patting it gently trying to figure out what curse it had been.
“Gabrielle, ma petite, can you hear me?”
Fleur looked around frantically trying to decide what to do. Just as she turned back to her sister, she heard a footstep behind her. Standing up, she whirled around, her wand out in front of her and came face to face with a disheveled blonde man in death eater garb. After a moment she realized she recognized him. Draco Malfoy. They both stood frozen in place waiting to see what the other would do. He had obviously lost his wand in the battle and hers was poised at his throat, ready to curse him if he made the wrong mood. He gazed at her with a hard look that couldn’t quite hide his haunted and weary eyes. Finally he spoke.
“Well are you going to do it or not?”
Fleur shrugged, she wasn’t sure what she was going to do.
“Is Voldemort dead? Did the Order fail? What happened?”
Draco began to laugh, but there was no humor in it.
“Harry bloody Potter happened. Oh Voldemort’s dead alright, but so is Dumbledore. He killed them both.”
“What, wh—“
Draco cut in. “Look, if you aren’t going to curse me with that thing, get it out of my face.”
Finally Fleur let the wand fall then turned back to her kneel beside Gabrielle.
“I’m just here for my sister.”
“Good for you. I’m getting the hell out of here. So if you’ll excuse me.”
Draco moved towards the wall and began fiddling around with the bookshelf finally when he grabbed a large black one and as he pulled on it, a door way opened behind the book shelves. Fleur knew when she came in that she wouldn’t be able to apparate out again, there were wards for that.
“That leads out? I’m coming too.”
Draco just kept walking, but he left the passage open. Casting a spell to make her sister lighter, Fleur picked her up and followed.
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--Two Days Later--
Ginny sat in her room her legs drawn up as she stared out the window, her eyes red-rimmed and dull though the she had long since spent the last of her tears.
How could this have happened?
She’d wanted an explanation, there had to be a reason, it was one of Voldemort’s spells, but no. Harry’s words were his own and she understood him well enough to recognize that. She had been under Voldemort’s possession herself once, she knew what it was like, and that wasn’t it. As much as it hurt, his actions were his own. He killed Dumbledore-- killed everyone of his own free will. The Death eaters changed their allegiance quickly enough and their attack was amazingly even stronger then before as Harry directed them towards specific people. The first to die had been Severus Snape. He was the one who had led them to the meeting and was a loyal member of the Order of the Phoenix, despite his personality problems of which there were many. Harry had always hated him and vice versa. The next person to die was Bellatrix Black Lestrange, “for Sirius.” What came as more of a surprise was when he killed Pavarti Patil who foolishly spoke out against his actions within spellrange. There was a choice, Harry had told them, join him or die. Of all the things to happen after Voldemort’s death, no one had expected this. Lupin called the retreat, but Ginny had no intention of listening. She had always been the one to call Harry out when he was being a jerk, maybe he’d listen now when what he was doing was so much worse. She was about to go to him when a hand grabbed her arm pulling her back. She barely recognized Oliver Wood in her distress and continued to struggle for a minute with him as Fred, George, Ron, and Hermione came to her side. Seeing that they were all beginning to draw the half-crazed Harry’s attention, Ginny resigned herself to it and they all escaped.
That was two days ago and in those two days Harry had since gone back to his muggle family and made them all dance to his bidding with the Imperius curse before finally ending it with the killing curse. Ginny felt physically ill when she heard about it. From there he immediately began to hunt down several wizards and witches of the order. Most had died, but a few had apparently joined him. No one could put up any resistance. She knew Harry was powerful, but no one realized the extent of it, and somehow killing Voldemort had only made him more so. After all he managed to kill the greatest wizard of the time, Albus Dumbledore. The survivors had to scatter, Ginny and her brothers only managed to make it home that morning and they couldn’t stay long. The house had been her home all her life and she’d have to leave it before Harry came after them.
As that thought entered her mind, Ginny suddenly realized how quiet it was. She was in the highest room in the house, but the Weasleys were noisy people, and sound carried. She should be hearing something. Ginny was about to turn away from the window when a flash of witch light caught her eyes. There was someone outside. Reaching for her wand, she made her way across the room and as she quietly slid the door open. Noise assailed her ears. The quiet had been a spell. With great dread she descended the stairs forcing herself to face the unfamiliar voices in order to find her family.
She saw her arm first, sprawled out, and when she took another step she saw her mother’s ginger hair framing a pale and lifeless face. Placing her hand to her mouth lest she cry out, she continued down, drawn to the sight. She reached the open door to the kitchen, but stayed back as she looked [/i] A man with black hair knelt over one of the bodies, even from the back she recognized him. It was Harry. Unconsciously, she took a step back up the stairs when one of the old floorboards creaked. He turned and immediately focused on her, a smile appearing on his face.
“Ginny!”
He said it like he was happy to see her. As if she would be happy to see him. As if he weren’t standing over the body of her brother Percy. Before she could move or say anything, he strode forward, grabbing her arm and pulling her into a hug. Then like the flick of a switch, and immediately he began to sob.
“Ginny, Ginny, I’m sorry I had to. Forgive me.”
Ginny tried to pull away, her hand holding her wand in a death grip and he finally released her from the hug so he could see her response. Ginny tried to keep the anger from her voice when she spoke; she didn’t want to die without knowing if some of her family had escaped.
“Harry, why are you doing this? What have you done?”
He obviously didn’t like something in her tone and his hands tightened painfully around her arms. Harry looked down at her a strange look crossing his face.
“I had to, don’t you see. They betrayed me, all of them. They were worse then the Dursleys, they at least were open about it, not like your parents, pretending to take me under their wing. I was good though, their deaths were clean. I did that for you and for Ron… and that’s why I came back. Where is Ron by the way?”
As he spoke he pulled her along into the kitchen where there was more light. She shook her head at his question, but hope welled up within her. Ron is alive. “He--” Harry quickly cut her off.
“Never mind. I’ll find him, but what about you?”
Ginny was only half paying attention now, scanning the floor frantically, her heart breaking a little bit more as she came to rest on each face. She tried to ignore the death eaters in the room, but it was hard. Harry put both his hands on either side of her face, tilting it up and forcing her to look at him and not the bodies of her fallen family. His eyes burned with green fire and he did not look wholly sane.
“You will come with me won’t you Ginny. I love you. I can’t do it without you.”
Ginny thought quickly. If Ron was alive, where was he? What should she do?
“Harry, I, I need to think about it.”
It was as if a shutter fell down over his eyes and his expression grew blank. He let go of her.
“And what is there to think about?”
Before Ginny could reply he continued on, his voice hard.
“Fine, fine, I can be reasonable. You have two minutes.” Harry turned to face the Death eaters in the room. “Go search the house.”
As they filed out, Ginny suddenly remembered the clock, the one that told where everyone was, even to their location in the house. It wasn’t so strange that it was that specific, not when considering all the pranks they’d pulled growing up. The lights were all out now, all but three. Ginny, Ron, and Harry. His parents finally added one for Harry; they viewed him as another son. And he killed them. It was Ron’s though that she was interested in and her eyes followed the arrow on the clock Home---> Kitchen. Ginny’s eyes widened as she casually searched the room and as they came back to the clock she noticed a cabinet door near the exit slightly ajar. As she realized Harry had focused his attention on her again, Ginny saw him follow her gaze out of the corner of her I and knew she had to do something.
Ron…
With brothers like hers, lying was an act of self-preservation and if there was one thing Ginny could do it was act. She once convinced her own highly suspicious mother that a cat was responsible for setting dung bombs. She had imitated Umbridge to complete perfection and she could do this now, when it was so terribly important.
“Harry. I’m sorry. I was just understandably a bit shaken.” Ginny walked over to him and grabbing his hand, she smiled up at him.
“Of course I’ll go. I’m your girlfriend aren’t I? I’ll always forgive you. I love you.” Harry smiled pulling her closer for a kiss and Ginny could only hope that Ron would use the opportunity to get the hell out of there.
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Ron had protested at first when his parents told him to hide, but understood the logic. He had to get to Ginny who was upstairs, completely oblivious to what was going on and he had to get the message to Lupin, if he was still alive. It was the greatest act of self-control ever not to burst out of his hiding place as his mum died, as his father and his brothers were slain by death eaters. He felt like a right coward, but he’d honor their wishes. Worst of all though was when Ginny came down. He’d expected that she too would tell Harry exactly what he could do with his offer to be a death eater. He was shocked not only to hear her agree, but to sound so damned happy about it. She bloody kissed the murderer! Well Ron wasn’t completely stupid. Disgusted, and outraged, yes, but he’d at least use his sister’s loathsome betrayal to get out of there. Harry had to be stopped. Slipping out the door, he disapparated, all the while thinking that he would have rather seen Ginny die then see that.
Traitor.
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Luna Lovegood sat across from Hermione, her strange gaze fixed on the inside of her teacup as she listened quietly as the other girl explained what had happened. So Voldemort was dead and Harry Potter was now leader of the Death Eaters. How terribly distressing, if not completely unsurprising. The yellow-winged wyberts had been saying this for years, but did anybody listen? It was a good thing she owned The Quibbler now. She could see that these would be hard years ahead and people had to have good news to keep up with the times. Besides, it was perfectly obvious to Luna what had to be done. She’d just wait for the others to see it as well.
Absentmindedly Luna reached out to pat Hermione’s hand, not noticing when she missed and patted the cushion instead. She spoke mostly to herself than to Hermione.
“Well, first things first… unless you are a tweedle-faced nelwing.”
It would be a long, dark road ahead, but that was merely stating the obvious.
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;;; Harry is either insane or in the british terms "has gone mad" or just gotton really evil