Gone

Gone

By: Lindsey

Gone

Chapter One: The Darkest Hour

"Come on, Harry! Wake up!"

Harry became aware of someone shaking him, calling his name over and over again. This day started out similar to the day before, with his friends waking him up.

"Mum wants us downstairs for breakfast."

He blinked his eyes open, reaching for his glasses only to find them forcefully thrust into his hand.

"Come on! Breakfast is ready," his best mate, Ron, said excitedly. Food was one of the few ways to get Ron out of bed in a heartbeat - that, and Christmas (which just so happened to be the day before).

"I'm up," Harry grumbled as he rose from the bed shivering, having lost the heat from his covers. Seemingly satisfied with Harry's answer, Ron left the room. There was no doubt in Harry's mind that Ron was heading towards breakfast with a giant smile on his face.

Harry trudged down the stairs a few minutes later, still rubbing his eyes to wake himself up.

"Good morning, Harry dear. Come and sit down," Mrs. Weasley said as she rushed back into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Harry. I trust you slept well?" Sirius asked as he peered over the morning's paper.

Last night, he had slept well, extremely well. It was one of the first nights since the attack when he was able to sleep without a nightmare of the incident. He figured it was because yesterday they were told that Mr. Weasley would make a complete recovery.

"Good morning," Harry responded to them both, with a nod to Sirius, as he took a seat across from his godfather.

He glanced around the room for the first time that morning. Hermione was picking at her food, absorbed in a book. Ron was, as usual, stuffing his face, Fred and George were bickering over something (most likely their latest product) while Ginny just ate quietly. Her eyes glanced up and caught his, and she gave a friendly smile.

His attention drifted as he heard soft muttering from across the room. Squinting slightly, he noticed Kreacher slowly taking objects from the cabinet and putting them into a small box. He never stayed in the same room as Sirius unless he had to.

Hermione must have noticed his staring, as she whispered to Harry from the side, "Sirius tried to get him to serve us breakfast a few minutes before you came down. He accidentally dropped my plate on me." He heard Sirius snort. Yes, Harry could easily believe that Kreacher just accidentally dropped the plate on the one he despised.

"He is just so old!" continued Hermione, ignoring Sirius' snort. "Sirius started yelling at him that if he couldn't show more respect, he would be getting rid of everything his mother owned. Kreacher is trying to hide everything he can, I think."

He glanced back at Kreacher, who was still muttering under his breath as he worked. Unlike Hermione, Harry had no sympathy for the house-elf; he had been nothing but rude since they arrived.

"Is everyone here?" called out Mrs. Weasley from the kitchens before she appeared with more plates of food. She approached them with a smile. "Good, good, all of you are here." She set down the plates and took a seat. "Harry, go on and grab some food," she commanded.

Dutifully, Harry piled food onto his plate and began eating, silently wondering why Mrs. Weasley had called them down so early.

He watched Mrs. Weasley as she gazed around the room, obviously satisfied that the food was being devoured. "This afternoon we will be going to the Burrow." Mrs. Weasley's tone left no room for argument.

"'hy?" said Ron as he chewed.

"Ron!" cried both Hermione and Mrs. Weasley, aghast.

"What?" he responded before sheepishly smiling. "Sorry."

Both promptly ignored him as Mrs. Weasley spoke. "There will be an Order meeting here later today, and with you all unable to stay quiet and not listen in--" Fred and George looked bashful.

"Mum, you know that we would never listen in on a meeting," said one of the twins.

"Yeah, Mum, don't you have any trust in us?" asked the other.

Glaring at the twins, who failed to hide their smirks, she continued, "--Dumbledore decided that we shall be going to the Burrow today by Floo."

Ron decided to speak up. "Why can't we be in the meeting this time? We all know it's about what Harry saw that night."

"Thanks," mumbled Harry as he shot a glare at Ron for his obvious lack of tact, despite agreeing with what Ron had said.

Mrs. Weasley just looked at her youngest son icily, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the chair. "You are all underage!" she began emphatically. "I will not allow my underage children to be pressured into being involved in the war!" She looked so haunted as she spoke those words.

"What about Harry?" Ron shot back, clueless at how fearful his mother looked. "He should know what's going on, as it is about him!"

"And he will not rush back and tell all of you what happened?" retorted Mrs. Weasley, not even bothering to cover up that the meeting was about him. "You are all too young, including Harry. I was including him when I said I did not want any of you to be pressured."

Harry felt his chest swell; she thought of him like a son. He hated that he disagreed with her right then.

"Mrs. Weasley," he began softly and waited until she focused on him. "I want to know why I'm having these visions. I need to know."

Mrs. Weasley's eyes became watery. "Oh, Harry! You have to deal with so much. Just be a child for now and have fun at the Burrow with the rest."

Harry was about to protest when Sirius decided to enter the conversation, "I've already voiced the matter to Dumbledore. I think you deserve to know what is happening. But he told me 'no, not this time.'"

Harry eyes narrowed. Dumbledore! This whole year Dumbledore had been avoiding him. Dumbledore never stayed in the same room as Harry, let alone made eye contact. Now Dumbledore refused to give him the information he desired. What had Harry done? Harry may not have been a genius like Hermione, but he knew Dumbledore was hiding too much information from him.

Hermione must have noticed his anger building, as she gently laid her hand upon his arm. "Dumbledore will tell you. He might not even know what happened for certain yet."

Harry resigned himself with a sigh, knowing that arguing would be pointless. He was not going to be allowed in the meeting. Ron, too, had fallen silent after sending a sympathetic glance towards Harry.

"The Order is going to be here soon, so come on and eat quickly!" Mrs. Weasley commanded before flicking her wand. The empty plates rose and floated towards the kitchen.

Harry pushed away his plate, his pancake and eggs only half eaten. He did not feel like eating after learning that the Order was going to be speaking about him behind his back.

Conversations were starting up all around him, but he paid no attention. No one ever understood-- no one except Sirius. Sirius knew what it was like living with the nightmares and blaming yourself for being unable to stop the destruction.

Sirius may have told Harry that he was not turning into Voldemort and that it was he who saved Mr. Weasley's life, but it did not fully comfort him. He felt dirty and weak, unable to do anything but wake up screaming. Why was he able to see into Voldemort's mind? What was making their connection stronger each year? Almost every day his scar gave a shock of pain, telling him that Voldemort was indeed alive and planning.

All throughout the year Harry's thoughts had darkened. He had exploded at his friends for little to no reason at all; he had wished many times for something horrid to happen to Umbridge. What if I am becoming more like him? It was the question that had buried itself deep in his mind, unwilling to waver, even after Sirius told him it was not true.

"Harry!" Ron's voice jolted him out of his worries. "Don't look so down, mate. We'll have loads of fun at the Burrow! We can all go flying."

Harry forced a smile, ignoring Hermione's worried look, and nodded his head. "Yeah," he halfheartedly agreed. "we'll have loads of fun."

The table quickly fell silent as Kreacher sluggishly moved across the room, pulling a box of miscellaneous objects behind him. He was muttering to himself quite loudly as he passed Hermione, sending a glare in her direction.

"Dirty little mudbloods, disgracing the Black name," Keacher croaked. "Giving Kreacher a dirty present. No, Kreacher would not touch the filth--"

"KREACHER!" Sirius stood up angrily. "Apologize now!"

"Yes, Master." He murmured something under his breath as he looked at Hermione with a look of pure hate.

"Sirius, he doesn't need to," Hermione said. "It's fine. He should not be forced to apologize."

Sirius just nodded stiffly as he once again took his seat. "Get out, Kreacher. I do not want to see your face today."

With a slight, but obviously forced, bow, Kreacher disappeared.

Minutes later they all were standing in front of the onyx fireplace, coats in their hands. Fred and George went first, followed soon after by Ginny and Hermione.

Harry could hear laughing voices as the front door opened and the Order members began to arrive. So many people would hear the details of his suffering and why it happened, but he wouldn't be one of them. He had not realized the grim look on his face until Sirius's fingers grasped his shoulder.

"Harry, you are only fifteen. Let us deal with this for once. Go out, have fun, party -- be a child like you are." He spoke so softly, his eyes glazed over as if he thought of his own childhood, his own happiness that was torn away in mere hours. "Nothing will happen, go out and be free."

Harry wrapped his arms around his godfather, bringing the only family member he had left into a hug. Sirius always said the right things.

"Oh, and Harry," Sirius' lips were near his ear, whispering softly, "I'll tell you all I can about the meeting." He pulled away with a wink, his eyes twinkling to match the smile on his face.

Harry couldn't stop the smile breaking out on his face as he entered the Floo with the Floo powder in his hand. He brought his hand downward, tossing the powder at his feet and shouted, "The Burrow!" Before the world dissolved around him and tossed him out at his destination.

---

"Come on, Harry, Hermione," Ron said, before turning to rush out and grab his broom.

The boys, including Harry, went to go pick out brooms for themselves while the girls headed down to the tree where they flew.

As Harry went to grasp his broom, an all-too-familiar feeling shot through his scar, making it tingle. After a weak grimace of pain, he managed to keep his face lax. He ignored the pain he was beginning to get used to and grabbed his broom to follow Ron out. Ron had been so excited that he grabbed his broom and raced off, no doubt to be the first one in the air.

Regardless of how much he loved flying, today he was not very interested. He sluggishly began his walk to the tree, his expression blank.

The twins had caught up to Harry and walked next to him. "Come on Harry, cheer up," Fred said as he swung an arm around him.

"Yeah, it's better being out here than being in a stuffy old house," George added while repeating his brother's action with his own arm.

"But I know it's going to be about me. Everyone knows it!" Harry shrugged off Fred and George's arms harshly, his expression dark, as he took a few steps forward. His back faced the twins as he blurted, "Why else would they call a meeting, just days after what's happened? I want --" Harry's fists clenched slightly as he shook his head slightly. "--Why can't I be there?" Harry knew his voice sounded faintly like whining, but at the same time, he felt justified - he was at the centre of all this mess, and it was going to affect everyone he cared about. He, of all people, needed a seat at that table. "I deserve to know what's happening! I am the one who had to deal with Voldemort-" He ignored the wince both twins made. "--almost every single year!"

"Aye mate. That's true," one twin admitted.

"But, you guys will figure it out eventually. You always seem to," the other twin butted in.

Harry chuckled darkly. "That's true, we always find out by ourselves because no one ever tells us a damn thing until it's too late."

He saw Fred and George share a look, one Harry was unable to interpret as his scar throbbed more intensely this time. He reached out to try to rub the pain away.

The pain seemed to die as he saw Ron freeze at the top of the hill, his face turning a ghastly white. Ron had frozen as if someone had hit him with the Body-Bind curse and forced him upright, until his hand slowly curled into a fist, his nails digging into his skin.

"Ron?" Harry called out, worried, and ran to catch up with his friend, a million thoughts rushing through his mind.

"HARRY, NO!" he heard Hermione scream as he caught up to Ron.

His scar burned. it burned so badly that it made him want to sink to his knees. It felt like a million knives were shooting through his body, starting from the scar itself. But that was nothing compared to the pain he felt in his heart and soul when he found out the reason why Ron had frozen.

Ginny was in Voldemort's arms.

No! No, no, no, no - This couldn't be!

The Dark Lord grinned, a cruel, serpentine grin spreading across his face as his sickly, over-long white fingers wrapped around Ginny's throat. Her toes barely touched the ground, and her face was deathly pale -- she was able to breathe, but just barely, and every strained breath sent a faint spasm over her face, making Harry's blood run colder and colder. Her eyes were darting back and forth as she struggled in vain to escape his grasp.

So cold -- Harry shivered despite himself, despite his vow to never show his weakness to Voldemort, to never back down to the man who murdered his parents and Cedric. But this was Ginny, hair wild, clutched by him, standing on a too-green field in a too-safe place. If Harry had any illusions remaining about the safety of the Burrow, about the safety of the wizarding world, about any fleeting chance of being safe anywhere, ever, they were crushed in that one moment. He would never be safe, and Ginny was about to pay the price for his ignorance.

It was always because of him, they befriended him, and all he could do was put them in danger, time and time again.

With his free hand, Voldemort presented the scene with a horizontal wave of his arm. Harry's eyes flickered, not wanting to take his eyes off the Dark Lord, fearing that if he did so, Ginny would be flung aside and murdered.

A spare.

That serpent grin was so cocky, so confident, as if he knew he had Harry trapped. The boy hesitantly turned his head and saw the horrifying sight surrounding them.

All around them there were five Death Eaters, each of them wearing cold smiles on their unmasked faces. These had to be the elite, the most trusted of his followers and that included Lucius Malfoy.

Tears flowed down Hermione's cheeks as the sixth Death Eater pressed his wand into her neck, her arms wrenched behind her back. She gasped audibly as the Death Eater dug his wand deeper into her flesh as he noticed Harry looking.

Ron snarled behind him after he heard the sob from Hermione, but he did not look as he had only eyes for the two hostages.

"Let her go!" Ron screamed.

"Or you do what, Weasley?" It was Malfoy Senior's voice that answered.

Hermione's eyes became hard as she shook her head once before it was forced back into place. Her eyes were boring into his. He understood her message and refused to listen. He would not allow her to sacrifice her life or freedom for his.

He jerked his head away, unable to stand the intensity of her gaze and he was automatically staring at Ron. His friend's wand was darting back and forth from the Death Eater who held Hermione and Malfoy, who was approaching them.

Fred and George already had their wands pointed at nearby Death Eaters as they stood back to back; for once, they had no grins as they stood, determined to fight.

His wand felt like lead in his hand as he pointed it at the nearest Death Eater, Malfoy, but he was unable to curse him. The consequences could be much too deadly.

"Drop your wands," Malfoy commanded. Ron's eyes darted to Harry's, shortly followed by Fred's and George's.

He couldn't listen to the command. He couldn't just give up. Snape had always told him that he was too arrogant to listen to instructions even if they were best for him. He wanted to laugh -- laugh because his darkest fears were coming true and laugh because he knew they all relied on him now to make the final decision as they always had before.

Again, he possibly held their lives in the palm of his hand. Why did they always trust him like this?

Harry shook his head slightly, enough to keep Malfoy unaware but clue them in that they would not go down without a fight.

"One," he whispered, as his grip tightened on his wand.

"I said, drop them!"

"Two." He noticed them tense up.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, opening only to mutter the third word.

"Three!"

"Stupefy!" he yelled as a red beam raced towards Malfoy as Ron screamed, "Expelliarmus!"

"Protego," Malfoy drawled lazily with a simple flick of his wand. Both spells ricocheted off the shield, causing Harry to dive to the ground to escape one.

He was up in an instant just in time to see Malfoy launch a counter-attack: thick brown ropes flew at Ron, who dodged just in time. Fred and George were doing little better as they fought four Death Eaters. They may have been great duellers but they were outnumbered.

Harry quickly rejoined the duel, successfully disarming a Death Eater to his left before George was hit with a Body-Bind Curse and fell to the ground. Fred stood over his brother protectively, shooting off spells at anyone who dared to approach them.

The fight lasted only a minute before a chilling laughter descended upon them, freezing all of them, including the Death Eaters.

"How Gryffindor," Voldemort spoke out, knowing he had all their attention. "Fighting even though you know it is useless. I see it in your eyes, Harry."

Harry knew that they would be unable to win the battle the moment he decided to fight. He fought to attract attention, to alert someone, anyone. He fought hoping that luck would save them all again, but, most of all he fought because he could not give up. He refused to go down quietly.

"I let you have your little playtime. Now drop your wands or--" Voldemort's fingers curled tighter around Ginny's throat as she gasped for air. The meaning was clear.

George (somehow freed in the last few minutes) was the first to drop his wand, quickly followed by Fred. It was Ron who held to on his wand the longest, looking at Harry for a sign, any sign or plan that would save them all. Desperation lined Ron's face, but all Harry could do was shake his head, and with a defeated look, Ron dropped his wand.

No one seemed to care that Harry still held his wand as they grabbed the three Weasleys.

"Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Amusement radiated off the Dark Lord. Voldemort glanced around as his smile turned into a frown. "I had heard that the mother blood traitor was here as well; I feel as if we are missing a guest. Ignaas?"

"Yes, my Lord?" said the Death Eater to the right of Voldemort, one of two that did not hold a hostage.

"Go fetch her for me."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Don't touch our mum!" George and Fred said simultaneously as the Death Eater disapparated.

Mrs. Weasley must have been completely unaware of the situation happening outside her very home as it took less than a minute for the Death Eater to return with a resounding pop. The moment they appeared, the Death Eater dropped her, seemingly not wanting to touch the blood-traitor for any longer than necessary.

Mrs. Weasley had been stunned, her face full of surprise. She had no chance to even fight. This spell could have easily been the killing curse.

The Death Eater waved his wand over her body once and she awoke, jumping up and reaching for her wand that was not there. The moment she realized she was unarmed her face jolted upwards to see her wand in the hand of a Death Eater. She jerked around, seeing her boys and crying out, then seeing Hermione and Harry before finally Ginny.

"Ginny!" she cried out, her voice filled with so much pain. Harry could already see the tears forming in her eyes as she locked eyes with her daughter.

"Ah, how nice of you to join us, Molly Weasley," the serpentine voice said amusingly. "We could not have started without you."

"What do you want?" Mrs. Weasley questioned, her voice breaking. She looked Voldemort in the eyes, the only Weasley to do so that day.

He ignored her as if she was worth nothing, and turned his head to look at Harry. "It amazes me how Dumbledore left the precious Boy-Who-Lived so under-protected. Did he really think these wards would stop me, the greatest wizard of all time?"

"What do you want!?" Harry shouted, his wand shooting off golden sparks that scorched the grass surrounding him. "Stop playing with us!"

Voldemort's face glowed at Harry's brazen words and actions. "Why not, Harry?" he inquired lightly. "Can you take down me, the greatest wizard of all time -- and his followers -- without allowing any one of your little friends to come to harm?" As he spoke, he ran a cool finger down Ginny's cheek, grinning as she squirmed away from the chill touch.

Voldemort was right. Harry could not possibly win against Lord Voldemort and his followers even if it was just them and him. Voldemort, at this moment, could do anything he wanted and Harry was nearly powerless to stop it.

The finger that slid down Ginny's cheek had stopped and Voldemort's attention was shifted from Harry to Ginny. He leaned forward, his mouth close to her ear as he held her in place.

"I've heard all about you, Ginevra. The only Weasley daughter in generations and the one who happened to write in my diary. How was it? Meeting me, that is?"

Ginny did not say anything, trying appear brave and unafraid but her whole body trembled. Slowly, she spat out, "Horrible."

That sly smile faded on Voldemort's face, his eyes hardening. The hand around Ginny's neck had tightened, and Ginny began to choke, gasping for air.

"Let her go!" Harry shouted, desperate to save Ginny from Voldemort's wrath. "Let them go. You can have me." He was begging as he dropped to his knees. Death would be so much better than living to watch his friends slowly die.

"I'll let you kill me; just let them go!" Voldemort's hand relaxed and he began to laugh, a slow and quiet chuckle.

"You will allow me to kill you, Harry?" he questioned, his tone full of amusement. "Do you think that I, Lord Voldemort, could kill you only if you allowed me too? If I wished you to be dead, you already would be."

Harry did not care about how he looked, weak and cowardly on the ground. He was just thankful that he had managed to divert Voldemort's attention away from Ginny. The colour of her face was returning; those freckles that once stood out on that pale white skin faded as tones of pink dotted her cheeks.

He picked himself off the ground, slowly working himself back in an upright position. "What do you want?" Harry's dead voice repeated. He was sick of playing by Voldemort's rules.

"You, my dear boy." It was supposed to be a phrase of happiness, a term one said to a son or grandchild, not by a Dark Lord. It was wrong, a mockery that he had no parents, that he was not a boy to anyone.

"I want your loyalty."

His world shifted. Voldemort had come not to kill him but to get him as his servant? He did not even contemplate his answer, answering it just as he did his first year. "Never."

Voldemort must have predicted his answer, as the smirk on his face grew bigger, his white, sharp teeth peeking through.

"Are you sure, Harry? I could just imagine the headlines of the Daily Prophet tomorrow. 'Holiday Massacre of the Weasleys.'"

He wanted to say, 'no you wouldn't', and deem it impossible, but he knew that Voldemort could very well massacre them all.

"The days after Christmas are a time for festivities, playing with the new gifts, spending time with the family--" Innocent children and families, fathers at the table reading news papers.

His voice had been so sarcastic, drawing out how happy the world would be.

"-but yesterday a horrifying event took place in the wizarding world for one family. Half a family, slaughtered by what we think to be followers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named--" Blood pooled on the ground, broken and mangled bodies scattered across the once beautiful fields of The Burrow.

Voldemort took a sick joy, grinning a nasty ear-to-ear grin, in the show he was presented, the fear growing on each of the Weasleys' and Harry's faces.

"The Weasleys were avid supporters of Muggle-borns and Muggles, and it is believed that followers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, led by the notorious Sirius Black--" His godfather, unable to ever be free, locked up in his home or Azkaban - nearly the same.

"--broke through the wards and killed all but four Weasleys, who were not present at the time--" Arthur, Charlie, Bill and Percy-- tears streaming down their faces. "Why did they have to die?" Another broken family: his once picturesque family.

"A young Muggleborn witch was also killed during the slaughter." Hermione. She would shoot off spells nobody else would know the names of but slowly be ripped to pieces. She was never a dueller.

Hermione was crying, struggling to escape the Death Eater's grasp. They all were. Harry would do anything, anything to stop this terrible nightmare from happening.

"It is known that Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger were the best friends of the Boy-Who-Lived." Ron would be a true Gryffindor, trying to give Hermione a chance to escape but later clinging onto her as their tears mixed with their blood. No hope, only pain and death.

"An Auror that investigated the scene reports: 'Oh it was horrible! The bodies were mutilated, almost unrecognisable-'" Mrs. Weasley died first, trying to protect her family. Screaming, like his own mum, "please no, take me, kill me instead - have mercy, please have mercy!"

The twins dying, side-by-side, unable to leave each other even in death.

Ginny, her body beaten, nothing left intact. They would break her and make her wish for death before ever giving it.

"-It was hor--"

"STOP IT!" Harry couldn't take it anymore, the faces and screams that filled his head. "Just stop it!"

"Are you willing to rethink the offer?" Voldemort asked with a voice like silk, that awful smirk still on his face and that hand still resting lightly upon Ginny's throat, a reminder that he could easily end her life.

"You wanted to kill me for so long. Why?" Death was a simple choice when asked to serve him or die, something he did not fear, as his parents did the exact same thing. But this time, he did not have the choice to serve or to die. He did not want to give any answer, did not even want to admit what he would do to save them. Anything to stall, to wait until help came or luck favoured them.

"After you escaped me last year, I realised many things. You are a powerful wizard, Harry." He had been told this many times, but it was a lie. He could not even protect the ones he cared about most. "You had triumphed over me in your first year, yes, by your own luck and your mother's sacrifice, but your bravery was outstanding. I have heard tales of you banishing dozens of Dementors in your third year, alone, with magic many trained wizards are unable to grasp. I felt it that night we duelled as our wands connected. You are powerful."

He was not powerful, never powerful. He had a few skills in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but he never wanted to do anything. It was always forced upon him, and he did what he had to do.

"After I was revived, Lucius told me of your second year and how you defeated the Basilisk in the Chamber. Impressive indeed."

Voldemort moved closer, dragging Ginny with him. Each step closer made Harry's scar throb with pain until it was nearly unbearable. Voldemort was standing just a few feet away, staring down at him. He flicked his wand once, creating a bubble that drained the world surrounding them of noise.

"Why can you see into my familiar's mind? Can you see into mine, as I suspect you can? How far does our little connection go?" He spoke only to Harry, his voice quiet but demanding.

Harry shivered. He had pondered this question so many times. How far did the connection go? How similar were they?

"I know of your past, how similar to mine. Two children, both half-bloods and orphans and raised by Muggles. Both are powerful, and leaders. We both speak Parseltongue, an extremely rare gift, and we even share brother cores. We are similar, so very similar." His tone, again, was like silk, wrapping itself around Harry. So many had fallen into this darkness without ever knowing.

"We are not alike," Harry shot back, wanting to believe in that with all his being. Voldemort just smirked and turned away, dragging Ginny back with him as she watched him with wide eyes. He flicked his wand again and the world came back to life.

Harry could hear the muffled sobs from Ms. Weasley and the harsh spoken curses from the twins but nothing from Ron as he stared at the scene, his face abnormally blank.

"Harry Potter, I offer you a place in my circle," Voldemort announced, and Harry noticed all the Death Eaters smirking. "Do you accept?"

Harry glanced around frantically, all eyes now upon him. One more minute, someone would check on them. Dumbledore would realise something was happening. He had to. Everyone was silent, including the Weasleys, as they waited.

"No! Don't--" shouted Hermione before she was roughly slapped.

"Hermione!" Ron shouted. "Don't touch her, you bastard!"

One by one the Weasleys spoke out, shouting names at the Death Eater and Voldemort.

Voldemort shouted, "Quiet!" That smirk that had nearly rested upon his face the whole meeting was gone. His thin, sickly lips were tight and his red eyes were glowing. The Weasleys still spoke, but no sound came from their lips.

"Maybe the story was not enough for them--" His long thin wand touched Ginny's cheek, pressing a dimple into her skin. "--but a demonstration will be."

The curse may have been silent but Harry knew exactly when he started. Ginny's body arched and her eyes closed. He could see her teeth clewing on her lips, trying to keep the pain to herself.

Voldemort pressed his wand deeper into her cheek, and she screamed, a high-pitched squeal that sent terror down his spine. Her face was ashen, her lips covered in blood, and a bruise was forming around her neck from her first torture.

"Stop it!" Harry screamed once again, unable to watch his friends be tortured in front of him. "I'll do it," It was just a whisper as he fell to his knees defeated, his head hanging downwards. "I will join you." Instantly, the screams ended.

"Excellent Harry. I knew you would see it my way."

Ginny was being held up by the Dark Lord. Her face was tight and her eyes were still closed as she savored air and painlessness.

"Now throw your wand to me."

Harry glanced at his wand but did nothing. "Let them go."

"Give me your wand, and I will."

Regretfully, Harry did as he was told and threw his only weapon to the feet of the Dark Lord.

Voldemort let go of Ginny, tossing her to Mrs. Weasley, who grabbed her with open arms, clinging to her like she was a newborn babe. One by one, Ron, Fred, George and Hermione were released and pushed towards the mother and daughter.

Harry wanted to reach out to them as two sets of arms grabbed his arms and wrenched his shoulders back.

The initial instinct to struggle died quickly when he saw Ginny and Mrs. Weasley still clinging to each other as the rest watched sombrely. They were free, everything would be okay.