The Ivory Tower

The Ivory Tower

“At the bottom of the sea/Was the Earth and the Moon/And the Sun above me/But the world fell down/With some people still around.” ~ Lisa Germano


No day, no night, no moment
Can hold me back from trying
One flag, one fall, one falter
I'll find my day maybe
Far and Away
Far and Away

The cold night air was crisp, it nearly choked her but she buried herself under the covers. She had tried earlier that day to open the window, but to no avail. There was still a good draft floating in from the wintry air outside.

How long she’d been in the castle, she wasn’t quite sure. Every morning she’d look out into the long fields covered in snowy dew, and dream that one day she’d find herself in St. Mungo’s, surrounded by her loved ones. But every day was the same. Trees surrounded the castle, and the ocean was visible from her high tower, where the water licked the very edges of land.

Ginny Weasley sighed deeply, wishing for spring - or a brigade of saviors, or at least a broom - would come. She wished desperately for a pair of scissors as well, her red hair had reached to the small of her back, and was a pain to deal with. She’d begged the robed and hooded people that fed her every morning to bring her a pair, but they were silent as stone and the sharp utensils never appeared.

She’d been stolen from her very bed in the cool of the summer night, how long ago she wasn’t sure. They’d closed around her like a group of moths to a flame, threw a majority of spells at her and disapparated away. She’d been in the tower ever since.

Once or twice a disguised man would come and try to get her to talk, but she would snap her mouth shut and glare as best as she could. They wanted Harry - they wanted Harry and his wife and she wouldn’t give them away. As their secret keeper, she was expected to keep her mouth closed and zippered.

Every once in a while that man would appear, and soundlessly beat her until she bled and cried, leaving with just as much noise as he’d arrived. Ginny wondered why they even let her live, there was no way in hell she’d tell them anything - even if it was their mother’s name they’d forgotten. Or perhaps Dumbledore’s. They didn’t deserve to know anything they didn’t already know.

Ginny shivered violently, the thin shred of cloth that served as her blanket needed repair and replacement quickly, or else she’d die of hypothermia. She wasn’t sure if this was on purpose or not, but she wished they’d at least give her a cup of coffee.

She curled into a ball for warmth, and remembered the last time she asked for a cup of coffee or tea.

“Excuse me,” Ginny pleaded, her brown eyes wide and innocent, searching and pleading. The man paused, the equally brown eyes stared at her impassively. “I would like some tea or coffee please, my throat hurts.”

Though this was a lie, Ginny couldn’t think of anything else that would appease the headache that was pounding in her head. She wished she hadn’t become addicted to the substance.

The man didn’t move for a second before he slowly entered the room again, and Ginny took took a step back, frightened and confused. Normally the man would ignore her and leave.

He quietly closed the door and turned to stare at her with such intensity that Ginny felt like she was in a crowded room with nothing but a dishtowel to cover herself.

“I - it was only a request - “ The man’s eyes suddenly became angry and the movement was so quick that it left Ginny in shock. His hand whipped from it’s spot by his side and struck her so hard on the cheek that Ginny felt the tendons in her neck stretch and scream.

“There are no requests, you dirty muggle-lover.” The man spat, the mask that covered his face prevented him from spitting on her like she thought he would have. But his eyes snarled at her anyway, and she cowered away, a hand half raised to her face, hoping for some sort of protection.

He straightened himself, smoothed his thick black cloak, and stepped from the room as if he’d just given her an award. Her cheek stung painfully, and Ginny could feel blood in her mouth where soft skin met hard tooth.

“That sucks arse,”

Grimacing at the memory, Ginny felt her hand touch her cheek gently. It had been red for a week, and she hadn’t gotten a meal for two days after that. She’d learned her lesson though, she didn’t ask for anything other that what she was given. Her neck had been so stiff that she could only turn a seventy degree angle either way for a week.

The last time the other man interrogated her, she’d asked for something in return for some pointless information.

“Look here, brat, give us the information or we kill your family.” The man threatened, this blue eyes glaring at her from behind the white mask that failed to terrify her anymore.

“You’ve said that every time you come here,” Ginny said, looking at her dirty fingernails. Her pinky nail was chipped where she’d tried to pry the window open. It was stuffy in there without any circulating air.

“And every time a member of your family dies,” he retorted smugly, Ginny’s eyes snapped up to meet his, and she grimaced.

“Who?” she demanded instantly. Her heart felt like it dropped to her knees, and her stomach felt like it had traded places with her tonsils.

“That is confidential information,” Again, the man looked rather smug as he brushed away invisible dust from his light summer cloak.

“Confidential my arse,” Ginny muttered, but there were tears behind her eyes. Her family was slowly dying because she didn’t give out simple information such as the whereabouts of Hermione, Neville, Seamus, Harry, Ron, and a few other Ravenclaws and Gryffindors.

The man didn’t say anything for a moment, but Ginny could tell he was frowning at her and itched to hex her. His hand hovered over the wand in his pocket.

“Tell me where Harry Potter is, or another of your family dies. Slowly.” he snarled at her quietly, it was obvious he was getting tired of this game.

Ginny pursed her lips, her tongue suddenly felt too dry and her headache from earlier returned to throb in her temple. Hunger made her stomach rumble and tighten, she’d gotten used to her stomach hurting but every now and then it was more painful than normal. Today was one such day.

Ginny opened her mouth and then closed it again. She couldn’t give away Harry, not when he was so crucial to winning this way. But then, was war a good reason for her family to die? And if she did give him the information, they wouldn’t have any reason to keep her alive and they’d more than likely just kill her and the remaining of her family.

“I want something in return,” she said slowly, the man blinked and sat back, contemplating.

“And this request may be?” He watched her through the slits in his mask, and Ginny thought that must be mighty uncomfortable. The mask must cut into the skin close to the eyes and the outside of his face.

“That you turn yourself in to Dumbledore and tell him the whereabouts of the Death Eaters. And return me to safety and leave my family alone.” She knew this was a ludicrous idea and that he’d never agree to it, but now no one could say she hadn’t tried.

What she didn’t expect was laughter. The man had looked at her in surprise for half a second before he laughed bitterly at her.

“Hardly,” Ginny shrugged, it was their one chance to find out Harry Potter and they blew it. But the knowledge of the multiple deaths in her family was weighing on her mind, and she suddenly felt the urge to hurl herself through the window - open or not.

“Your loss,” Ginny said, staring into the eyes of the man. He watched her silently for a moment before he stood up. Ginny stayed on her makeshift bed, watching him with glassy eyes.

“You’ll be sorry, Miss Longbottom, for your inability to cooperate.” He stared at her for a few moment and she wondered whether or not he was frowning or smirking.

Ginny sighed and lifted the thin blanket, glancing at the moon through the window. She then look at the table just under the window, she’d just moved it from the far corner to there that morning. She’d estimated that it was two hundred feet from her tower window to the grass - or snow - below.

The full moon meant Lupin was a werewolf at the moment, and if she was correct in assuming the approximate location, he was probably miles away from her. He would never hear her.

But her Animagus form as a wolf did her little help in the tower, and it did little help to protect her from her captures.

Ginny woke with a bad headache and aching limbs, in a lumpy bed that felt as if it were made of straw. Sitting up blearily, she blinked several times before the room cleared. In front of her was a window so dirty that Snape’s hair looked positively glossy with cleanliness.

The floor was stone and there was an old table in the corner with a rickety looking chair sitting askew from it. The door looked as if it were made of heavy wood, thick bars were in the only hole available.

Ginny stood up and rushed towards the door, holding onto the bars and attempting to see out into the hall. No one. She put her hands on the handle and pulled, nothing. She pushed, nothing.

She shook it so hard that her arms hummed from the effort and finally she stood back and looked at the window desperately. She tried to open it, but it didn’t budge an inch, so she pulled down the sleeve of her shirt and rubbed a circle of the dirt off.

Land everywhere, the trees and the grass surrounded her vision. In the far off distance the sparkle of water - the ocean - was visible. What had happened?

“I see you’re awake,” A male voice, Ginny spun and found herself staring at a man clad in black with a familiar looking mask on his face. The blue eyes watched her with startling intimacy.

“What do you want?” Ginny asked tentatively, eyeing the open door behind him. He seemed to understand what she was thinking for he shut the door and stood in front of it.

“Only your knowledge,” He leaned against the door and hooked his ankles, his arms casually crossed over his chest. “Where is Harry Potter?”

Ginny narrowed her eyes, her lips instantly becoming a thin line. They’d taken her from her warm bed to this cold tower just because they suspected her of being Harry’s secret keeper? There was no way they’d know for sure. No possible way.

“What makes you think I know?” Ginny asked, crossing her arms over her own chest, glaring at the man. His eyes sparkled.

“Why, you’re his secret keeper, didn’t you know?” he drawled, he pushed off the door and came towards her slowly. “Or maybe you’re just playing dumb.”

Ginny was silent as she watched him come towards her. How could she protect herself, the place where her wand normally was was empty, she could feel the cold empty space on her thigh. It was unnerving.

There was nothing she could do to protect herself. But - instantly a smirk covered her face and she watched the man pause and look at her with what she guessed was a raised eyebrow.

“You’re rather smug for a girl who’s been stowed away in a tower for observation,” he seemed rather smug for a man that was going to be eaten in a few seconds.

Ginny just smiled at him before she concentrated on her transformation. She always hated the grinding feeling of her bones and body changing into that of a wolf, her Animagus. The man seemed surprised as her body shrunk and grew hair, her nose extending and her teeth elongating. Finally she was her wolf. It felt comfortable to be in that shape again in so long.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Only the man seemed more irritated than afraid, and Ginny paused, sniffing the air for any trace of fear. None. Only anger and aggravation.

Ginny snarled at him, snapping her teeth sharply. The man only watched her, he swiftly took out his wand and cast a spell so quickly that Ginny only had time to blink in response.

But then her body began to change again, this time against it’s will. Ginny fought hard to retain the wolves form, but the pain of being forced back to her human body was so great that she couldn’t resist it for long.

Soon enough Ginny was groaning on the ground at the feet of a Death Eater.

“I’ll have to teach you a lesson, then. I thought you were smarter than that, perhaps Potter would have been better off with appointed Granger as his Secret Keeper.” The man’s harsh words bit into her skin harder than any spell might have. She grimaced and forced the tears to recede, she’d been fighting with the same suspicion for the past five months. Wondering why he hadn’t picked Hermione - and maybe he should have, for she probably wouldn’t be in this situation.

Ginny forced her eyes open when a foot collided with her aching side. It was the first of a long series of beatings that day.

Ginny hadn’t transformed back into her wolf since then. It was obvious these Death Eaters weren’t as stupid as she’d thought. They also weren’t as vicious as she’d previously thought either, they only attacked when she asked for something, attacked them, or attempted to escape. They hadn’t touched her in any way besides anger, and they hadn’t starved her. Well, starved her for more than a few days anyway.

Most of the time they didn’t even talk to her.

But she longed to know what was going on out in the world. There weren’t any signs were this tower was, and she had a sneaking suspicion that it was hidden somewhere. Obviously along the coast of somewhere, possibly Wales.

Ginny wrapped the blanket around herself and stood up. She brushed the hair out of her eyes and walked to the window, she didn’t push it open for fear of severe shock. She’d rather not freeze to death.

The night reminded her of her last Christmas with her family, when the snow had been plentiful.

“Ginny,” It was Neville, he was in the living room with Conner, her five year old son. “Harry’s here with Vicky and Madeline.”

Ginny smiled. Harry had met Victoria when he was in the Quidditch store, buying supplies for his ripped glove, he vaguely remembered her. She’d gone to Hogwarts and had been in Gryffindor, but graduated his third year. They’d married four months later, and now they had a two year old daughter named Madeline. She had red hair that Ginny assumed was from Harry’s mother, for Vicky had blonde hair, and blue eyes from Vicky.

“Ginny!” Vicky came into the kitchen, a box in her arms. She’d brought her infamous macaroni salad.

“Oh, thank the gods that you’re here, I was getting a little worried that something happened.”

“Oh darling, you know that that locket around your neck would flash something powerful if that happened.” Ginny smiled sheepishly as Vicky flashed her a smile and set the box on the table. “Harry’s saying hi to Conner and Neville, why don’t you join them and I’ll watch the roast.”

“All right,” Ginny said reluctantly. She stepped from the kitchen into the living room, where a nice fire was warming the interior. Ginny and Neville had just set up the tree the day before, and Conner had decorated the bottom so much that the tree’s branches sagged almost to the ground.

“I see you’ve found yourself a little decorator here, Ginny.” Harry smiled gently at her and patted Conner’s head, who giggled and swatted at the offending hand. Ginny shrugged, smiling warmly at Conner.

“Yeah, we’d hoped for a dragon slayer though.” Ginny winked and Harry laughed, Neville smiled and Conner laughed because Harry laughed. “How was your trip?”

“Oh, it was cold and dreary, Vicky and I decided that we’d floo from Diagon Alley instead of riding our brooms all the way out here.” Ginny raised an eyebrow at him, he looked offended. “It was cold!”

“Sure, and a heat-warming spell is too much for such an untalented wizard as you, Harry Potter.” Ginny said warmly, Neville rolled his eyes.

“Well when you put it that way,” Harry looked dejected, but he smiled anyway and Madeline made a sudden appearance from behind him. She peered from behind his pant leg before she waddled over to Ginny, her arms spread wide.

“’inny! ‘inny! ‘ug!” she giggled, and some spit drooled down her chin. Ginny laughed and picked her up, settling her on her lap.

“How’s my little Maddie?” Ginny tickled under her chin and Madeline kicked her legs and squirmed. “How as she been?”

“Oh, she was sick last week but she’s over it now, just a mild flu I suspect.” Harry responded, looking lovingly at Madeline. “She hasn’t shown any signs of magic yet, but she’s only two so you can’t be too expectant.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she did show signs pretty soon, Harry.” Neville said loudly, a twinkle in his eye. “Being the daughter of Harry Potter and all, it’s to be expected.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Yes well, sometimes I wish she’d be a squib.”

“That would be nice as she’s growing up,” Ginny said, and laughed when Harry and Neville stared at her. “You never grew up with brothers who wreaked havoc with untrained magic.”

“True,” Harry said, nodding his head. Vicky came in through the kitchen and sat down next to Ginny.

“The roasts done, but I kept it in the oven to keep it warm.” she said lightly, reaching for Madeline, who flung her arms around her mothers neck. “She’s going to need changing pretty soon.”

Ginny, Neville, and Vicky all looked at Harry.

“Oh sure,” Harry muttered, glaring at them all.

“It’s not like you don’t need the practice, Harry.” Harry furrowed his brow at Vicky who smiled innocently at him.

“What are you talking about? Madeline will be out of diapers in a year or so.” He seemed genuinely confused for a moment, but when Vicky didn’t say anything and Ginny gave her a surprised look herself, he began to speculate. “You’re not - “

“Well, it’s too early to know, but I’m pretty sure.” Ginny squealed and wrapped her arms around Madeline and Vicky. Madeline struggled and cried out, Neville clapped Harry on the shoulder and winked at him. Harry stared at Vicky as if he’d never seen her before in his life.

“You’re not - “

“Happy Christmas Harry,” Vicky brushed her hand over his cheek in a loving caress.

Ginny shuddered, there was no way she was going to break that family up. Not when Harry was so happy after such a long time of being lonely and miserable.

“Well,” Ginny said to herself, stepping away from the window and sitting back on the bed. She hoped that her second plan for escape would work. Her first was a horrible attempt. This time all she needed was time to concentrate on her wandless magic abilities to be able to accio a broom or wand somewhere. Preferably a broom, it wouldn’t be missed as quickly.

But just one foul up would have her here forever. They’d lock the window shut tight and she’d have no way of getting out except through the door, which was also impossible.

Ginny lay down and slept fitfully, her dreams filled with pictures of a broken broom coming to her, and the window blackening.

The next morning brought sunlight and a birds song. Smiling, Ginny sat up and waited for her breakfast, which came on time and the man said nothing and gestured nothing. He left quickly.

Ginny sat on the floor and settled herself in. Closing her eyes, she concentrated hard on seeing a broom floating towards her, chanting accio broom.’

She didn’t notice the door slide open behind her.

One day, one night, one moment
With a dream to be leaving
One step, one fall, one falter
Find a new world across a wide ocean
This way became my journey
This day brings together
Far and Away