Heir Of Voldemort

Straight after ch. 14 (well, maybe about twenty minutes later... ;))

Notes: Well, well, things really are picking up a bit - I honestly thought it would take me months to reach this chapter and yet, here we are! Within weeks of me restarting work on this series. And, whaddya know, I´ve started doodles of our new couple! I think I have found my ship :) I so proud...

And, egads, what was a simple scene has developed and Snape now has a past, a reason for joining the Death Eaters and a very nasty set of parents that I really wanna yell at for being so mean to their baby boy! As if him being bullied at school wasn´t bad enough...

Also, this is where things will also start to go a bit skew-whiff, to quote a wonderfully British turn of phrase (and can I say for the record how much fun I think English is as a language - so many plays on words, so little time!). Wackiness of the unpleasant kind is about to ensue.

And don´t forget that Vollie-darling (I LOVE this guy! What is it with me and bad guys...? Oy...can´t resist the buggers.) is still alive, albeit rather small, lumpy and red, but that never stopped him before ;) Everyone seems to think that he´s dead, judging by the reviews, but he isn´t. He really, really, really isn´t ;)

Man, I love being cryptic and uberevil :D

For the record, I own none of this except the wonderfully meandering storyline :) It happens this way cos I change my mind about exactly what I´m going to do to the characters mid-typing.

For example: Molly was meant to snuff it, along with Bill a couple of chapters back. I changed my mind (Mind you, originally, Ginny didn´t survive her suicide attempt in ch. 7, if I recall correctly...Damn her and her wicked ways with Snape...getting all lodged in my head and not budging...) :) I´m being nice for once.

Don´t bet on it lasting ;)

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"I can´t help wondering," Severus murmured to the young woman, who was curled against his side, her flame-haired head pillowed on his shoulder. "What will your mother think of this little arrangement?"

Ginny giggled, a sound that made Snape´s heart swell with joy. It was a delight to hear her do something as simple as giggling, after all that she had been through. Even though she was only eighteen years of age, her haunted brown eyes often seemed so much older and sadder than her years should have allowed.

Strangely, it reminded him a good deal of himself at the same age.

"I can imagine," she answered, leaning up to look down at him. "Mum, I´m dating an ex-Death Eater, who was a spy for the Ministry and who is a better shag that You-Know-Who was."

"A shag?" One eyebrow rose.

Stroking his hair back from his eyes, Ginny smiled. "If you prefer, I could say a bonk."

Raising himself on his elbows, his face barely inches from hers, he claimed a brief kiss. "Child," She gave him a look. "Force of habit...Ginny, I would sincerely prefer to be classed as something a little more eloquent than a `shag´."

"I´m just teasing you, Severus," Laying along his chest, she pressed her forehead to his, gazing into his eyes. There was an odd emotion in her brown eyes. "I...I didn´t know if could be like that."

Aware of her waning mood, Severus lifted a hand to cup her chin. "So I was better than he was?" He cocked his brow again. "And everyone claims that once you´ve had a dark lord, nothing compares..."

Ginny smiled weakly. "Let´s just say that You-Know-Who didn´t know very much about You-Know-What," She kissed him again, still touching his face. "I wasn´t lying when I said I love you, Severus. You do know that, don´t you?"

"I know," His eyes glinted. "And I was certainly not joking when I did..." His other hand slid between their bodies and Ginny squealed in surprise. "That." Severus ended with a smirk.

"Severus!"

"You like saying my name, don´t you?"

Ginny, wriggling away from his hand half-heartedly, ending up straddling his body, her hair tousled around her face. "It´s a nice name," A brow rose. "All right, it´s a very weird name, but it´s your name." Leaning down, she kissed him again. "And that gives me enough reason to like it."

He gazed at her, her knees braced on either side of his ribs, as she pulled the twisted sheet up, around her shoulders and upper body. One hand lazily stroked her thigh, his eyes never leaving her face.

"What?" she finally asked, when she noticed.

"You." She made a sound of bewilderment and he smiled. "You really are a most remarkable creature."

"I...I am?"

"Well," He chuckled as she shifted herself against his body. "If you can tolerate me and my vile nature, you must be verging on the miraculous."

"You´re not vile!"

"I beg to differ."

Ginny swatted him. "Severus," she warned. "If you were vile, I wouldn´t be sitting on your...um..." He smirked as she blushed. "Well, I wouldn´t be wrapped up in your bed sheets, not minding that you´re fondling me under the blankets."

"Like I said, my dear, sweet lady," he said, sitting up to face her, his hand cradling her cheek. "Verging on the miraculous," He kissed her lightly on the mouth. "And truly remarkable."

Her gaze drifted down from his hand, cupping her cheek, to the Dark Mark, still burned into his forearm and, hesitantly, she raised her left hand, bringing it across her body to touch the mark.

"Does...does it hurt?"

He looked at it, as her fingers carefully palpated the slightly raised skin. "Not any longer," he finally answered. "But it will always remain there."

"Always?"

Her lover nodded, lifting her fingers from the mark. "Unless Voldemort succumbs to natural death, I am afraid so," Raising her hand to his lips, he kissed her fingertips. "I would erase it, if I could...if only to prevent you from being touched by any filth left by him...for that reason alone..."

"Severus..." She began.

Black eyes met brown. "Don´t try to make excuses for me, Ginny," he said, his voice quiet. "I was a Death Eater. I bear this mark as a reminder of the crimes I have committed. As a reminder of my folly."

Ginny, her voice shaking with emotion, brought his lined brow down to rest against hers, her hand stroking through his hair. "You...you hated yourself, for doing it, didn´t you?" she said. "But you wanted to make things right..."

Snape closed his eyes, wanting to make some kind of answer, but his throat had closed up. He felt tears stinging in his eyes, felt them breaking free, for the first time in so many years, and slipping down his cheeks.

One hand stroking through his tangled hair, Ginny´s other arm wrapped around his chest, her other hand spreading between his shoulder blades, their foreheads pressed together as he wept.

Part of him wished he could stop, knowing that he ought to be the comforter, but another part of him was bursting with misery and despair spanning so many years that was finally being allowed to reveal itself.

Much to his surprise, Ginny brought his head down to rest on her shoulder, holding him close to her, whispering reassurances to him, her body pressed flush against his as she continued to murmur soft words and stroke his hair.

Never, not since he had seen his sister die - a six-year-old girl who had just let go of his hand for a minute hit by a fast-moving muggle-vehicle and landing in a crumpled, bloody heap at her fifteen-year-old brother´s feet - had he wept.

All of the pain, contained through so many years, seemed to be pouring out of him in one long stream, his sobs soft and harsh, making Ginny hold him all the tighter. He could feel her arms about him, holding him fast, steadfast and comforting.

Why, he wondered, had he been unable to find one like her when he truly needed someone to care for him? When he was blamed for letting his baby sister die? When he was given a chance for revenge on the muggles who had shattered his family?

Had someone held him and let him weep as she was letting him now, he knew that his guilt and anger would have at least had some kind of vent, that he wouldn´t have taken up arms against muggles, under the tutelage of Lord Voldemort.

Voldemort had found him, thanks to Malfoy. He had known all about Severus´ little sister. He had known all about the muggles who just walked away from the incident, scot-free. He had known the pain, anger and guilt that the fifteen-year-old felt.

Those dark emotions had been carefully moulded by the Dark Lord: seducing Snape over to the Dark Side with promises of revenge on the muggles and purgation of the guilt he was feeling, which his parents had laid on him for the death of their favoured child, the beautiful sister he had doted on.

He had believed it, believed everything he was told.

Only to find that the illusions of being at peace shattered when he stood over the mutilated bodies, the blood of the muggles cooling on his hands.

He had tried to stop, he had tried to turn back, but it was too late and he had taken a few years to build up the courage to return to the light side, to reveal his crimes to the Ministry, to be taken under the trusting wing of a former teacher, Professor Albus Dumbledore, while everyone else condemned him.

Another choked sob escaped him and he felt Ginny´s own burning tears on his bare shoulder as she clung to him.

"I failed..." he finally whispered against her neck, bringing his chin up to rest on her thin shoulder, leaving her throat hot with his tears. "In spite of everything...I failed Professor Dumbledore... and I failed you..."

"No..."

"I let them take you...I should have foreseen...should have guessed...it was my fault that they had..." His words were cut off when Ginny touched her fingertips to his lips, shaking her head.

"You were the one thing that kept me sane in there," she said. "I had at least one friend that I could trust." He released a bitter laugh, looking away. "Severus," Black eyes came back to her face. "I trust you. I trusted you there too. You saved me. How can you say you failed?"

"I..."

Her fingertips smothered the protest. "Sh," she said gently, kissing the tracks of his tears on his face. "You did everything you could." Placing a kiss on his jaw, she slid her arms around him, then lightly kissed his throat. "I love you."

"You are quite insane, dear one," he said in rasping response, his throat raw from weeping so copiously, yet, he felt oddly calm after letting at least a little of his self-loathing and grief out.

"Say that again," she murmured against his throat.

"You are quite insane," A small hand slapped his back. "You meant the other part?"

"Mmm."

"Dear one," Lifting her face to him, he brushed the pad of his thumb across her lips, before dipping his head down and kissing her. "My dear one," she moaned against his lips as his hand carded through her hair.

The sheets slipped down from Ginny´s shoulders as Snape sank back in the broad bed, taking her with him, her hands running up his chest. Exchanging gentle kisses and caresses, they made love again.

While the first time had been hesitant for both of them, slightly awkward, almost shy, this time was...something that Severus couldn´t quite put his finger.

Lying together as they caught their breath, he could never recall feeling more at peace or closer to anyone as he did, wrapped in Ginny´s arms, her warm body pressed intimately against his.

They lay in silence for a long time, no sound aside from the crackling of the fire on the other side of the room, but it was strangely comfortable, his hands moving in absent circles on her back, as he occasionally placed light kisses on her head.

It was her who broke the silence.

"Severus..." Pressing against his chest, she slid her arms around him, his chin resting on the top of her head. He could feel her heart fluttering and held her closer. "We...I have to go and see my family, don´t I?"

"When you are ready, chi...Ginny."

She laughed, a little shakily. "That´s really going to take you some getting used to, isn´t it?"

"So it seems," He felt her breath escape in a sigh against his bare chest. "Ginny?"

"Would...would you come with me? When I´m ready?"

His callused hand lifted her face to his, brown eyes met by black. "You know you need not ask," he said softly, his thumb brushing along her lower lip. "I will go with you if you feel you need me to be present."

Curling against him again, she whispered, "Thank you."

***

In the small, oddly-modest house, hidden in the middle of nowhere, a young man sat in front of a fire, scanning a text about the dark arts, his wands gripped defensively in his hand.

Outside, the sun was shining, but he didn´t care.

All that he knew was that he had seen his father killed, blasted down by the wand of one of the damned Aurors, in the battle which had seen the downfall of his patron, the Dark Lord.

He knew they were looking for him.

Unlike the previous fall of Voldemort, over seventeen years earlier, the Ministry of Magic was doing more than everything to capture all the Death Eaters, their offspring and anyone who might have tampered in the Dark Arts.

But they didn´t know where to look.

Pale, grey eyes continued to read the text, dark spells and enchantments all in easy access of the boy, thanks to his father´s careful preparation, lest anything happen to him, on his wife, Narcissa´s suggestion.

She had been killed too.

Her son had been the one to find her, seconds before her last breath escaped her and he couldn´t erase that final image of her from his mind.

She had been caught by falling masonry, due to a badly-aimed Hex from one of the Ministry wizards, which had shattered the wall above her, sending a cascade of white stone down onto the beautiful witch.

Neither the stone nor his mother had remained their true colours when he had found her, sprawled on her back, a slab of bloody marble the size of desk pinning her down, her face torn by slivers of stone.

He had tried to pull her free, desperately using all the spells he could remember to shift the huge pieces of rock and rubble, but he was already too late to save her. Her lower body had been crushed.

Gathering her in his arms, trying not to hurt any more than he had to, he had wiped the blood off her face, but fresh gouts trickled from her lips, her once-perfect hair matted and knotted with dirt and crimson drops.

She hadn´t even been aware of his presence, as he wept, holding her close. Her grey eyes were fading, her head lolling back on her shoulders, as he continued to wipe blood from her face with his robes.

"Mother...please..." He remembered whispering, his voice raw with grief. "Please... don´t leave me..." His tears had splashed onto her torn face, mingling with the red smears already there. "Please...mother..."

Her slim body had tensed in his arms and he could swear he had felt her soul depart, as she went limp in his embrace. Burying his face in her neck, he had started to sob in earnest. "Mummy...mummy, please...come back...come back..."

Pressing his lips together in a thin line, Draco blinked hard to fight down a wave of angry tears, gritting his teeth as he focused his attention on the book in his lap.

The Dark Lord, he who had claimed to be all-powerful and indestructible had failed them and betrayed them, leading them into a battle they could not win, getting both his parents killed.

Cold, white anger filled Draco Malfoy.

He hated Voldemort, hated him with so much passion it should have frightened him. Should have, but didn´t. He hated him for what he had done to the Malfoy family, hated him for being so much more powerful, hated him for being in the way.

How he had longed to be the one to point the wand and shatter the Dark Lord.

Now, though, it was too late.

Lord Voldemort was currently imprisoned deep in the bowels of Azkaban, guarded by Dementors day and night, no doubt thriving on the dark emotions that the ominous guards aroused in everyone.

There was no way that he could even touch Voldemort.

Not now.

Glancing up at the wall above the mantle, his eyes burned with angry tears as he saw his father and mother´s faces looking down at him, his own face - albeit younger and less twisted with malice - smiling.

His parents...

He would gain vengeance for their deaths, vengeance against the Auror, who killed them and - somehow - he would have his revenge on Lord Voldemort, the one who had lead them to their deaths.

It was a child´s duty.

A child´s...

Slowly, a cold smile spread on his lips.

He knew what he could do.

***

Standing in front of the front door, Ginny stared at the green-painted wood, her hand half-raised to the polished brass knocker. The hand fell, again, for what had to be the fifth time.

"Ginny...?"

"Y-you do it," she whispered hoarsely to her companion.

"I can´t," Severus said gently, lifting her hand in his. "You must be ready to face this and I can´t be the one to knock," He placed her hand on the knocker. "Remember that they are your family. They love you."

Nodding, her face as white as a sheet, she knocked once, barely audible, then shook her head, backing away. "I-I can´t..." she half-sobbed, trying to push past him, to escape down the path.

Behind her, the door opened.

Ginny, shaking from head-to-toe, slowly turned around to come face to face with her mother, who was wiping her hands on a flowery apron. Molly Weasley´s mouth fell open, tears welling in her eyes, one hand rising to touch Ginny´s face, as if barely daring to believe that she was real.

"M-mummy..."

Molly released a sob. "Oh, Ginny! Ginny!" She pulled her only daughter into her arms and hugged her tightly, crying. "I-I thought I´d lost you too, Ginny...I thought I´d lost you...my baby...my little girl..."

"Mummy, I´m sorry...I..."

"Ginny, it doesn´t matter...it wasn´t your fault...you couldn´t have been braver than you were..." Molly pressed kisses all over her daughter´s pale face. "All that matters is that you´re alive and you´re back..."

Burying her face in her mother´s mass of gingery hair, Ginny was sobbing as hard as her mother was. Just short of them, Severus Snape - his hands folded in front of him - watched, smiling slightly.

Drawing back, Molly cupped Ginny´s face in her hands, staring up at her, tears still trickling down her cheeks unnoticed. "What happened to you, dear? Where did you go? Are you all right?"

Sniffing hard, Ginny nodded. "S-Severus looked after me, mum...I..." She looked down at her feet, as she spoke. "I got hurt and I...I was sick for a long time...he helped me get better..."

"Sever..." Molly suddenly seemed to notice Snape standing just beyond her child, her eyes going round. "Professor Snape?"

Ginny looked over her shoulder at him, holding out a hand. He stepped alongside her and took her small fingers in his. Molly looked down at their joined hands, then back at their faces.

"M-mum, this is S-Severus..."

Snape managed to make an utterance that sounded strangely like "Whulp!" when Molly grabbed him by the front of his robes and yanked him down to her level and hugged him as tightly as she had her daughter, pressing a kiss to each cheek.

The former Potions Master was scarlet in the face when she released him, and - for once - it wasn´t because he was angry.

For the first time in many years, he actually was blushing.

"Thank you." Molly said, taking his free hand between hers, tears of gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thank you for saving my little girl," She pulled both Ginny and Severus into the hall of The Burrow, in spite of Ginny´s whimper. "Come in, both of you. Ginny, your brothers will be so pleased to see you..."

"B-brothers...?" Ginny´s face went white. "No...mum...not yet..."

Ginny´s protest came too late, her mother shouting up the staircase at the top of her voice. "Bill! Charlie! Fred! George! Ron! Come down!"

"What´s up, mum?" Bill appeared at the top of the staircase, freezing when he spotted his sister. Ginny stared back at him, backing into Severus´ chest, her breathing growing panicked. "Oh my God..."

"S-Severus..." Ginny whispered, fear etched on her face.

Considering that the last time she had seen one of her brothers, he had almost killed her and, just prior to that, the others had witnessed her committing patricide, Snape could understand why she was terrified of seeing any of them, laying his hands reassuringly on her shoulders.

"Don´t be afraid, Ginny," he said softly, squeezing her shoulders through the thick robes she was wearing. "He loves you. Like your mother does."

"Ginny!" Bill leapt down the long, narrow thirty-step staircase in three paces that would have been suicidal to anyone but a Weasley, his booted feet landing inches from hers. He grabbed her shoulders, looking her up and down. "God, it´s good to see you!" She was pulled into his arms and he hugged her tightly, his voice soft in her ear. "I´m not letting you go again, sis."

"What´s the racket about?" The other four appeared in a knot at the top of the stairs, Ginny obscured by Bill´s body, Fred speaking. "It sounded like a Fairy Elephant was bouncing down the stairs..."

Turning slightly, Bill grinned up at them, his arms still around the waif-like figure who was sobbing against his chest, unable to even look at her other brothers. "We´ve got a little visitor here," he announced.

Somehow, all four Weasley men made it down the steps, en masse, without breaking any limbs or other body parts, congregating around Ginny in the middle of the tiny hallway, the girl laughing and crying as she was passed from hug to hug.

"What took you so long to come back?" Ron demanded, when he finally got her, giving her a shake, then a hug, then another shake. "We thought you were dead! We didn´t know where you were! What had happened! Anything!"

"Well I...I´m back now..." She buried her face in his chest, clinging to him. "I-I-I´m sorry...I..." Her sobs overcame her, making her words incomprehensible, Ron hugging her protectively.

"Mrs Weasley," standing to the side of the group, Snape turned to Molly, speaking quietly. "May I speak with you privately."

"Of...of course," Looking slightly unnerved by the sinister-looking teacher´s civil tone, she looked towards Ginny, who was sitting in Bill´s lap, where he was sitting on the stairs. She was crying hard and was being embraced from all sides.

Not wanting to disturb her children, she motioned for the Potions Master to follow her, leading him through to the empty kitchen and gesturing for him to sit at the scrubbed table.

Once seated, he watched for a moment as she started bustling around the kitchen, making every pretence of tidying up the already spotless room, her hands trembling as she worked.

"Mrs Weasley..."

"T-tell me," she stammered, opening cupboards and withdrawing cups and saucers from them, not looking around at him. The china rattled together as she moved. "Tell me what happened to her."

"Are you certain..."

"Just tell me," There was a core of diamond to her words.

Nodding, unseen, Snape began. "You recall what happened to her the first time he had her?" Molly nodded stiffly. "She resumed that role, her brother´s life as forfeit, should she refuse."

"O-oh," The tears were audible in that single syllable.

Looking down at the surface of the pine table, Snape traced his finger around a knot in the wood. "It...it transpired, as you know, that he was the one who...he..." He could not find the words, but she nodded again that she understood. "Your daughter angered him shortly before You-Know-Who fell...before I could spirit her out of there... he struck her...she miscarried the child that she was carrying."

"Oh God..." A cup slipped from her hand and shattered on the floor. Her other hand was resting on the worktop, as the one that had been holding the cup came up to press against her mouth, shaking violently, as she tried to smother a sob.

She jumped when thin, bony hands came to rest on her shoulders and she turned sharply to find Snape looking down at her, those foreboding eyes gleaming with pity and simple understanding.

His hands on her shoulders, he forcefully, but gently drew her to him, as he had so often with the daughter, her cheek pressing against his chest as she sobbed, his hands spreading on her back.

"My baby..." she whispered despairingly, her voice anguished. "How could he do that to my baby? My little girl..."

"Your little girl is an incredibly strong woman, Mrs Weasley," he said. "She showed more spirit and pride than any of the others who You-Know-Who held. Had you seen her, you would have been proud of her."

Molly looked up at him, tears trickling down the sides of her nose. "But she´s still my baby..." she whispered, bowing her head again. "She´ll always be my little one... my little girl..."

She didn´t resist as he gently directed her to the table, helping her to sit. Kneeling down beside the chair, he took her hands between his.

"You´re right," he said, in his softest voice. "She will always be your little girl, but now, she needs you to aid her as a woman," He raised one hand to lift her chin, making her look at him. "She lost a child and I cannot be the one to help her understand what she is feeling as a mother. I wish I could, but I do not have the experience."

Sniffing, pulling a handkerchief out of the sleeve of her cardigan, Molly gazed at him as she dabbed her face. "Why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice calmed a little. "You could have just brought her back and left her."

"No," A sad smile reached his lips. "I could never do that."

"You care for her," It was a statement, not a question.

He nodded, one side of his mouth rising a little. "After spending almost five months with her as my constant companion," he said. "She does tend to grow on you. Even when you try to remain pedantic and aggravating."

"She-she was raised with six aggravating elder brothers."

Snape chuckled, gently lifting a curl of ginger hair back from Molly´s tear-stained cheek. "I suppose that did give her a little practise," he murmured, studying her thoughtfully. "And you, Mrs Weasley...how are you coping?"

"You care for me too?" She tried to laugh it off.

"What matters to Ginny matters to me," he said softly. "You matter deeply to her."

Bowing her head, Molly was unable to stop more tears. "I-I´m sorry," she whispered hoarsely. "I...I should be used to it by now...it...it´s been months...I should be coping better than this..."

"No, you shouldn´t, Mrs Weasley," His hands gently took hers again. "You should take time with the grieving process. If you hurry it, it will only return further down the line, so much worse."

She sniffed. "You sound like you´re speaking from experience."

"More than you know," he answered quietly, then fell silent, comfortingly holding her shaking hands as she wept.

***

"D-d-don´t make me go in there...please..."

His arms still around Ginny, Bill looked at the living room door, then down at his younger sister. "Ginny..."

"I-I can´t...I can´t go in there..." She was staring at the panel of wood as if it was a deadly snake, poised to bite. She looked up at him desperately. "You...please...I-I-I can´t forget...I can´t..."

Charlie moved around in front of his sister, gently taking her from Bill. "Ginny, you can do this," She whimpered, shaking her head violently. "You survived You-Know-Who... you were brave enough to do that...you can do this."

"But I...it was there...I did it there..." She tried to pull back as Charlie steered her towards the door. "Don´t...please..." An anguished sob escaped her as Charlie started to open the door, Ron jerking his elder brother´s hand back.

"Don´t," he cautioned, looking down at her. "We just got her back, Charlie. You don´t want to scare her off again, do you?" He gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Ginny, listen, you don´t have to go in there, all right?"

She nodded, shaking.

"Ginny," Bill let her lean back against his chest. "Listen. I know you´re upset," One of the twins snorted at the understatement. "But you have to face what happened. You managed to face us..."

"But I killed daddy in there," she sobbed, turning to burrow into his chest.

"No, you didn´t," Charlie said, his voice calm as it always was. Confused, she turned to him. "You didn´t kill anyone, Ginny. You-Know-Who did, even if he made you hold the wand. No one here blames you," A sad look crossed his face. "Dad didn´t blame you."

"But I-I-I did the spell...I said it...it was me..."

"To save all of us from him, Ginny," Bill whispered. "You saved us. You and dad did more than anyone I know would do for us. I couldn´t have done it..."

"But you didn´t!" Her voice was shrill, hysterical. "I did it! I killed him!"

"And dad was forgave you, Ginny," Charlie said softly. "Do you remember the last thing he said to you?" Her eyes pressed close, her shoulders shaking with quiet sobs, she nodded. "He loves you. Even when you had to do that, he still loved you."

A hiccough escaped her and she flung herself into Charlie´s arms. "I miss him," she whispered hoarsely.

"We all do, Ginny," Fred murmured, a sad smile crossing his face. "I keep on ending up sitting out in the garage, rearranging his plug collection according to shape, size and colour."

"I went and alphabetised his battery pile," George ruefully admitted.

Bill laughed. "And I thought I was bad, trying to get another Anglia airborne."

"Mum´d thump you, if you managed to pull that off," Ginny muttered, scrubbing her face with the heels of her hands. She looked at the door of the living room, her lower lip trembling. "I...I have to...don´t I?"

"And we´re all here to back you up," Bill reassured her.

Gathered around her, they watched as she opened the door, flinching as if expecting to be struck by some unseen force. Her face white, she looked into the empty room, a muffled sob escaping her.

Slowly shuffling into the room, which looked nothing like it had that night, she felt the warm, golden sunlight washing up her legs as she stepped out of the shadows and onto the carpeted floor.

Everything seemed bright, warm and soft, the home that she remembered from what seemed like an eternity ago. She stopped and looked down at the spot on the floor, where her father´s body had fallen, as she had cursed him.

"It was there..." she said shakily, pointing. "He fell down..."

Charlie reached her first, his arms around her. "We know, Ginny, we know. It´s all right. You´re doing great," She gripped his hand, moving forward towards the spot, kneeling down shakily.

"I-I wanted to say I was sorry..." she whispered sadly, touching the carpet, which showed no traces of the crime that had happened there so many months before. "I-I-I didn´t want to do it..."

"Tell him, Ginny," Bill knelt on her other side, squeezing her knee. "Dad´ll always be looking out for us, y´know...even if its just to check we aren´t doing anything with his collections..."

Ginny laughed weakly. "Yeah..." she sniffed, bowing her head. Her whisper was almost unheard, but her brothers all shared the sentiments. "I´m sorry, daddy. I miss you...I love you."

Both of her eldest brothers wrapped her up in their arms, tucked snugly between them, as they all started to weep softly.

***

"I want to surrender myself," A wand was placed on the desk.

The middle-aged Ministry Wizard, Lancelot Bennett, who was sorting through a huge pile of paperwork, rolled his eyes. If it wasn´t one fruitcake trying to get himself arrested, it was another.

The number of weirdoes they had had claiming to be Death Eaters was getting beyond the ridiculous. Why anyone would volunteer to be sent to Azkaban was just beyond him.

"And why would you want to do that?"

"I was a Death Eater."

Green eyes rose to the...barely more than a young boy standing on the other side of the desk, filling with scepticism. "And why would you turn yourself in, knowing that you could go to Azkaban?"

The boy looked down for a moment, then raised his grey eyes to the Bennett. "I have information about You-Know-Who."

"Don´t you worry about him, son. He can´t harm you anymore," The wizard gave the pale, point-faced boy a fatherly smile. "We have him in our custody."

There was a long pause.

"But you don´t have his Heir."

Green eyes slowly rose to find serious grey eyes gazing down at him.

"That´s nothing to joke about, son."

"Which is why I´m not joking," The boy rolled up the sleeve that covered his left arm, revealing the Dark Mark burned into his pale skin. Lancelot Bennett rose to his feet, colour bleaching from his face. "I want to...I want to be able to redeem myself for things I had to do...please..."

Nodding, unable to make his mouth form coherent words or sounds, the revelation just too much for him to grasp, Lancelot motioned for the boy to follow him towards the office of the Minister of Magic.

He didn´t see the smirk that crossed the boy´s face, as he fell into step behind him.