Elsewhere

Chapter One

She was running...blindly running. Past, present and future seemed to be entwined as they had never been before... she wouldn't think about them. She couldn't if she wanted to keep her sanity. There was only her... no more him. No more them. Just now, and then...and then and now with him... Her thoughts were tangled pieces of shredded string, confused, cluttered into hurried heaps of recollection and meaningless meanings... She felt destroyed. Out of control and overflowing with fear. There was no tomorrow. And she could not bear to think of yesterday. There was only the hellish today... she wished there had never been any todays... Darkness surrounded her from all sides and seemed to be closing in, faster and faster, until she was choking, starving for breath, feeling that her lungs were about to explode...

*

'I'm so sorry...There was an attack at the house...'

'Ron's missing...'

'Ginny. He's dead. I'm so sorry.'

*

Harry was dead. She knew that much for sure. Distant voices echoed back and forth and around her mind in circles and loops and spinning black holes until she was certain that she would never escape the knowledge. All she wanted was to escape...

You don't have to stay here...a tempting voice echoed in her mind. Don't stay where nobody needs you any more. Escape. Run. She wasn't sure which she would rather escape: the voice, or the world that for so long had existed with them in it. Everything there reminded her of... it was bittersweet... forbidden fruit that was sweet to taste, yet she was unable to savour it...

She ran on and on, into unfamiliar land, knowing only one thing: she had to leave. Had to go somewhere, anywhere but where she was.

*

She was by the sea, not really knowing how she'd arrived there. The waves washed before her and she took a shuddering breath, knowing what she had to do. She took the familiar object out of her pocket, where it had been for so long... comforting, faithful, just in case she ever had to protect herself. Now that everything had changed, getting rid of it would be the most liberating thing she would ever do... ... she took one more choked breath, and braced herself against what she was about to do...

She threw her wand into the sea.

******

Ginny set out promptly the next morning at half past nine.

She took the Tube to Hyde Park Corner and was sitting on a bench outside the park at precisely five to ten. She looked presentable, but inwardly she was a mass of churning nerves. Facing her past would be painful and traumatic and frightening... it might change her life forever...

A nearby movement caught her eye and she turned her head quickly. Sirius was standing there, regarding her with a closed expression. She marvelled at how inconspicuously he had appeared.

'Morning, Ginny,' he half-smiled at her, looking slightly uncomfortable - she got the impression he was unused to feeling this. Their eyes met briefly before both looked away.

'Shall we set off, then?'

'That'd be fine.' She stood up and walked into the park alongside him. They strolled along in a strange sort of silence that was neither awkward nor comfortable. After a few minutes, Sirius spoke again.

'Ginny, I know this is peculiar. But I also know what it's like to see an old friend after a long time. It's hard to know where to begin.'

She gave a tiny nod.

'This is bound to be harder for you than it is for me. I... when I was ostracised by society, it was against my will. I longed to return to those who no longer counted me a friend. For you it's been different. You've spent the years longing to forget those you left behind.'

Ginny was taken aback. Though she knew their situations were entirely different, she and Sirius had both experienced times of trouble and despair. Whereas she was closed on the topic, though, he seemed surprisingly open. She felt an involuntary desire to reciprocate with thoughts of her own.

If a wizard learns to speak a language, say French, then he or she will experience a great shock when, after not exercising their foreign tongue for several years, the ability has escaped them entirely. They thought they could speak French but all the time they were forgetting it. Ginny felt just like this now. Although she'd spent at least half of every hour for the last ten years wondering about Harry and the magical world, she now found that she had nothing to talk about.

'I don't ... I can't think...'

Sirius leaned forward.

'It all seems like a dream, Sirius. I know it was a reality that I was a part of, but after all this time none of it seems real. Magic. It's the stuff of dreams, the stuff of fantasy. Whoever heard of moving chessmen?'

'Of course it's not real, to you. I image that, over all this time, your heart has been pining for and remembering our world, whereas your mind has slowly been trying to convince you that none of it's real. You want to let go, but you can't.'

'How do you know I can't?' she asked sharply.

'You wouldn't be here if you could.'

There was a pause before Ginny responded, and when she did she felt like every word cost her a price that could never be repaid. 'I had to go. I had no choice. In that world, everything reminded me so painfully strongly of him, Ron, Hermione, my parents...I could go on.'

Sirius' eyes were closed, as though he was remembering something from a very long time ago. 'I know someone who went through something like that.'

It took her a few seconds. 'Remus...'

'Right. One day, he was as happy as a werewolf can be in this world. Good friends, a bright future ahead in teaching - we always suspected Dumbledore would hire him, lycanthropy notwithstanding. And then... three of his best friends dead, the fourth responsible for their deaths. He didn't just lose one of us; he lost all of us. I didn't lose Remus that day as much as he lost me.'

'Sirius, I'm sorry, what happened to him was...'

He broke in before she could finish. 'It wasn't worse. Losing friends is losing friends. The effects of the deaths of people close to you cannot be measured on a scale and compared. The psychological effect is overwhelming, and therefore you deal with it in the only way you can - by escaping it. I had to escape that cell in Azkaban every day with my mind, as it was impossible to do so physically. Remus ran away from the world that had caused him so much pain... but he came back. He realised, eventually, that he owed it to one of his old friends.'

Ginny understood. 'He came back to look after Harry.'

'Well, not entirely. They genuinely needed a teacher - Remus just happened to be ideal because of his intimate relationship with me and with James. Dumbledore knew he could trust Remus to look after me - remember, neither of them had any way of knowing I was innocent at the time.'

Ginny shook her head. 'Sirius, I have an idea you're hinting at something here.'

Sirius nodded, meeting her slightly accusatory eye.

'Who is it?'

Sirius was impressed. She had obviously made the connection between her tale and Remus'. From the way her eyes were suddenly brighter, Sirius knew that she was keen to hear about anyone who'd been close to her.

'It's Ron.'

The simultaneous joy and disappointment that flowed through Ginny was inexpressible. Firstly, she felt a great leap of excitement over the prospect that her brother was alive. Secondly she then felt sad, because there had been no mention of Harry. Then she felt somewhat guilty for feeling sad that her brother might not be dead. Then finally she chastised herself for jumping to that conclusion before Sirius had even explained himself fully.

Sirius took a deep breath. 'I don't think he's dead.'

She looked him in the eye, floored even though it was exactly what she had concluded. To hear it said aloud was still more stunning than in her mind. 'But we were all told that he was 'missing, presumed dead.'

'Presumed' is the operative word there. I know that it sounds, well, unbelievably far-fetched ten years on, but I believe that Voldemort may have had reasons to keep him alive.'

'Like what?'

'I have no idea.'

'Well then how can you possibly have such a notion?' Ginny felt confused - how could Sirius just bump into her coincidentally and then the next day tell her...

'Wait a minute. There's something I'm missing here, isn't there?'

Sirius met her eye, clearly following her train of thought. 'I had a theory that you might have been working in the area in which I found you. I followed it up.'

'But why feign shock?'

'I was shocked. I didn't really entertain the prospect of really locating you seriously to begin with - you had done such a thorough job of disappearing. London is a huge place, even Portobello and the Notting Hill area is huge, and there are always so many people flocking around there. I've done a lot of work in the locality and because I'm so familiar with it, I realised how small the odds were that I'd be able to track you down. Besides, when I saw you...it gave me such a jolt...it felt like looking into the past, really...seeing some sort of surreal photograph of you...it was a lot stranger than I had ever imagined it would be.'

'But why look me up when I didn't want to be found?'

'I need your help, Ginny. You're the only person who can help.' His eyes were pleading. 'Just hear me out? Please?'

She nodded.

'You're the only person left who really knows Ron. You were also half-trained as an Auror when you left our world, if I remember correctly. You're a powerful witch, Ginny.'

Ginny's eyes dropped. 'No. I was a powerful witch. I'm not any more.'

'But you could be again...'

Silently she mulled his words over. They affected her, that she could not deny. Once again, she found herself without words. After a pause, Sirius continued.

'All you have to do is reach out and take the chance.'

'What if I don't want to?'

Sirius looked into her eyes for a long moment. 'You know that you do.'

She felt a surge of anger. 'How can you know what I want? You don't even know me. I left you and the world that you're so entwined in behind ten years ago. Why would I want it back?'

He spoke in a quiet voice that was full of conviction. 'Because it is part of your very being.'

'Not any more. And I can't let you persuade me otherwise.' She stood up.

His eyes flashed. 'Your brother's alive, Ginny. Are you really going to let that go because you're scared?'

'It's not like that!'

'How is it not like that?'

'Because I cannot see any plausible way that Ron could be alive!'

'That's because I haven't explained. You haven't let me explain.'

'I can't listen.' She stood up. 'I have to go.'

With that, she was gone.

******

Half an hour later, Ginny stomped back into her flat, feeling a strange mixture of sadness, anger and confusion. She had left that part of her life behind her ten years before...reopening old wounds would be too much, even now. It was asking her to do the impossible - she wouldn't allow herself to hope, because if it turned out to be false hope...the thought was too horrible to contemplate. She couldn't risk. A nagging voice in the back of her head kept telling her that her frustration had to do with Sirius...all he wants from you is help with your brother...he doesn't want your friendship...oddly, the thought made her feel strangely empty.

The front door slammed and Linda rushed in, her usually porcelain cheeks tinged pink from the bitter, biting cold of the outside world. She stopped short when she saw Ginny, who was curled up in her armchair, staring into space.

'What's wrong?'

Ginny shrugged. 'Not much. Just dreaming. Want to go out tonight?'

'Sure! Where to?'

'Wherever you like.'

'Well there's this new Tapas bar in Soho which I've heard has great Spanish dancing in the evening.'

Ginny smiled, twisting her hair absent-mindedly. 'Yeah, let's go there.'

Linda flopped on the arm of the chair Ginny was sitting on and started plaiting Ginny's hair for her. 'I have the perfect thing for you to wear.'

Ginny laughed. 'Our idea of 'the perfect thing to wear' is not often the same.'

'Yes, but you can't not like this.'

'I probably can.'

'Well, you're fussy.'

'Well, yes.'

The two grinned at each other before Linda hopped off the chair and retrieved one of the shopping bags that she had been holding when she had come in. With much gusto, she drew out a dark green silk skirt with a delicate pattern in deep red along the bottom hem.

'You like? You could wear it with that cute kinky red corset that we got in Camden the other week.'

Ginny laughed. 'We didn't get that, Linda. That cute kinky red corset was your idea and you should be blamed if I blind anyone this evening. I take no responsibility for it.'

'So you're wearing it, then?'

'You are incorrigible.'

Linda's eyes sparkled. 'If I knew what incorrigible meant then I'm sure I'd agree.'

'You know what incorrigible means.'

'I do not.'

'Do too. You must do.'

The dark-haired girl threw her arms up dramatically. 'I, Linda E. Florentine, hereby certify that I know not the meaning of the word 'incorrigible' and am off to find a dictionary. Oh yeah, and I call the little black dress!' She skipped off into Ginny's bedroom. Ginny marvelled at her friend's energy and her own, highly developed ability to avoid things that she did not want to think about.

******

Ginny crawled out of bed at eleven on Sunday morning - Linda had got rather... merry the other night, and the two had only reached home at four in the morning. To her surprise, she had also been somewhat tipsy by then, which was most unlike her. Linda had tumbled onto the sofa in Ginny's living room, and Ginny herself had fallen asleep quickly, exhausted by the whirlwind of dancing and drinking which she had partaken in the previous night. When she walked out of her room, she saw Linda in the kitchen, cheerfully cooking bacon, eggs and coffee.

'Do you ever go home, Linda darling?'

Linda put on a wounded expression. 'Charming. I make breakfast for my hung-over best friend and she tells me to go home.'

Ginny made a sceptical noise. 'If I hadn't come out, you so would have just eaten it yourself. Besides, I'm not hung-over.'

'Well, that's gratitude for you. Are too.'

The two sat down companionably at Ginny's table and started eating.

'Oh, before I forget, some post came for you.'

Ginny looked at Linda, startled. Linda interpreted her look correctly.

'I know, who sends post to you? Haven't these people heard of e-mail?'

If it's from whom I suspect it's from, then probably not...Ginny grinned wryly and took her post from Linda. She examined the bottle-green ink and the queer, italic script that only a quill could have produced. You don't give up easily, Sirius; I'll give you that.

'Who's it from?' Linda leaned over to look at the envelope, her eyes bright with curiosity.

Ginny swatted her.

'Never you mind. Shove off and shower, lazy girl, you smell of clubbing.'

Linda feigned insult and skipped off to Ginny's bathroom, leaving her in peace to look at her letter. She tore the seal open, wondering how Sirius had managed to find her address. Taking the letter out, she read it carefully.

'Ginny,

I know I'm probably not your favourite person right now. I wish that I could have presented things to you in a more tactful manner, but the fact is, I've spent so long nursing this theory...I'm so sure that I'm not wrong that I find it hard accepting how far-fetched it'll appear to others. I hope the following may help to persuade you.

An article was attached to his letter. Ginny scanned it briefly, observing the title before becoming more engrossed in it.

"New 'Signature' Spell Developed by Ministry.

Courtney Roman reports.

The Ministry of Magic has released an official statement concerning the rumours of the development of a new, revolutionary spell. They have confirmed that the spell will be able to:

The details of how the spell works are very sketchy as yet, as Ministry officials were terse when questioned. However, it is rumoured that the spell is a fusion of 'Priori Incantatem' and 'Veritaserum'.

An unnamed source has also hinted that the Muggle science of 'Forensics' has been used in developing some of the principles of the spell. Forensics is a process that is used in tracking criminals by the Muggle police forces. They exploit the basic idea that each person leaves traces wherever they go, for example: a hair, a fragment of clothing or fingerprints. The source suggested that the wizards developing the 'Signature' spell have adapted the idea that every person leaves traces behind them. However, the 'traces' that the wizards are using are not physical, but magical.

Veritaserum is generally used in liquid form. The wizards developing the spell have found it necessary to turn it into gaseous form in order to fuse it with the other main ingredient in the spell. This is a highly complicated process and very few are qualified to operate it - thus it is very unlikely that many people will be able to learn the spell until they are expert in the art of biformatus.

It is also possible to use the 'Signature' spell in potion form, and it has been suggested that this is how it was originally tested and developed.

This spell continues the trend of combining Muggle Sciences and practices with Wizarding equivalents. The current head of Muggle Affairs, Bill Weasley, has declined to comment on this particular development, although he is one of the more public figures who advocate fusing Muggle and Wizarding practices, shunning the more traditional scornful view that wizards often adopt towards Muggles.

It is scarcely necessary to stress the significance of this development. If the spell indeed contains the aforementioned properties, it will be possible to convict many more wizards of using Dark magic than was possible before. More news from the Ministry is being eagerly awaited."

Already seeing where this was leading to and berating herself for not having listened to Sirius the previous day, Ginny took out the rest of his letter eagerly.

'When Ron disappeared, I firmly believed that he was abducted and insisted on some of the 'Signature' spell being used in the area where he was believed to have disappeared. I used the spell in liquid form, as it was still in the early stages of development at the time. The process one uses is something like what one does with Polyjuice potion - you find a skin or hair sample from the person you are looking for (I managed to get hold of some of Ron's old clothing). Next, you mix it with a carrier in a vial, before releasing it into the air. It's difficult to explain to somebody who has never seen the process, but the liquid seems to react with the air and change into gaseous form. If the essence of the person is in the air surrounding where the spell has been released, the air will turn a deep red colour - if not, it will turn green. The test came up green in that area. However, at that time, the liquid 'Signature' spell was still under strict test conditions, and I only had permission to use it as I'd managed to get a written request signed by Fudge and McGonagall.

Ginny wondered for a moment how on earth Sirius had managed to persuade Fudge to sign a request before remembering that it was Sirius that she was thinking of. He'd probably bribed Fudge, or come up with a charming explanation for why he needed it, which would have persuaded the hapless Minister. She read on, engrossed.

'I was convinced that the test was inaccurate, but they wouldn't dispense any more of the solution at the time - it was too rare. It was very frustrating, but I kept my ear to the ground for a few more years, still convinced that there was hope, for some irrational and entirely instinctive reason, I refused to believe that he could be dead. When there was gossip in the underworld of a sighting of Ron, I went to McGonagall again to try to get some more 'Signature' solution. It had become far more reliable and available by that time, following further testing. To be honest, I think she felt rather sorry for me, and the solution was less precious by that time, so she gave me a vial. I used it in that area and the test came up as dark red.'

Ginny gasped aloud.

'This happened about six months ago, and since then I've been trying to find you. As I said during our meeting, it was mostly coincidence that I did. A very lucky coincidence, I think - currently I'm trying to get Ministry clearance to investigate the case further. It could be somewhat difficult, considering the state of the Ministry at the moment. Anyway, I've talked about it for long enough. If you'd like more information, I have a Muggle mobile telephone on which you can contact me - as the article stated, the Wizarding world have become much less scornful towards Muggles and have been adapting some of their more useful inventions to suit their purposes. I don't see the point in being stubborn and backward as far as the Muggle community is concerned.

Sirius went on to give his telephone number and further contact details. Ginny sank back in her chair, her mind spinning. How could it be possible? A small part of her still rejected it - maybe there had been something wrong with the second test? How could she possibly face the disappointment if the lead turned out to be false? She felt irrationally angry with Sirius for raising her hopes after she'd been working so hard to accept that the majority of her family had been killed. She knew that she'd find it hard to swallow her pride and call him after her display in Hyde Park. But one thought easily overruled all of her fears, doubt and pride.

Ron could be alive...

******

Sirius fumbled for his keys, gasping for a cup of coffee. The dark blue door to his Victorian semi finally swung open, and he practically fell towards his percolator, taking his wand from his pocket and muttering 'elduciate' at it. He looked warily at the answering machine - the red light was flashing as usual.

'Replay,' he called to it wearily, sitting down to nurse his coffee and 'Daily Prophet'.

The strange, robotic voice spoke. 'You have...four new messages - three from the Ministry, one from Agent Johnson.' It played all the messages - the ones from the Ministry were all increasingly frantic messages from Fudge, who seemed to not quite understand that Sirius-Did-Not-Like-Him and would not help him as firstly, he didn't even work for the Ministry, and secondly because Sirius-Did-Not-Like-Him. Some new publicity scandal had broken in the Daily Prophet about a high-profile Wizard being uncovered as a Death Eater. So what else is new? Sirius had had a team on the guy for a few months, and the only reason that Fudge wasn't up to date was because the stupid git couldn't be bothered to check his voicemail. He was one of the 'old-school wizards' - those who refused to believe that Muggles could make any valid contribution towards Wizarding life. Johnson's message sounded somewhat amused and was telling Sirius in calm tones what Fudge had been so hysterical about.

Sirius went upstairs quickly. He changed his shirt and combed his hair before looking into his mirror.

'No wonder she hasn't called you, scruffy.'

Sirius glared at his mirror. 'Don't take this personally or anything, but you aren't exactly a model of neatness yourself.'

'So dust me occasionally, smartarse.'

'Easy for you to say. You don't have a career or a life or-'

'-Or a girl who isn't calling you...'

'Hey! It's strictly business, okay? And I understand why she hasn't called me. Plus, it's only been a day.'

If a mirror could have rolled its eyes, this mirror would most definitely have done so.

'Sure...'

Sirius glared at the mirror.

'Y'know, I've been considering having a Banishing spree - the house seems somewhat cluttered...and there is plenty of space in the attic...'

'Easy, easy!'

Sirius smirked at the mirror and walked downstairs, ignoring the mutters on what he'd look like if he didn't have a mirror to give him fashion tips. He had just resigned himself to another takeaway Chinese and telly night when his mobile rang. He drew in a sharp breath, before leaping for it.

'Sirius Black.' He forced himself to sound official and not let excitement creep into his voice. If that letter had actually paid off...

A slightly nervous voice answered him. 'Sirius, it's Ginny...'

'Got my letter, then?' He tried not to sound too hopeful.

'Yes...I think I owe you an apology.'

A small smile reached Sirius' face. 'Not really. I don't blame you for reacting the way you did. I probably would've done the same, except maybe made a few more things go bang.'

He could almost hear Ginny's grin. But her voice was sober when she spoke next.

'Your letter got me thinking. I have no wish to rejoin the magical world, but I do want my brother back.'

Sirius sighed. 'I understand that it could be hard after so much time away.'

'It's more than that.' Ginny's voice seemed to quaver on the line. 'I've got my own life here now - it's certainly taken me long enough to accept that there is no longer a place for me in the Magical world-'

'-Ginny, there is! I need you to take part in the operation. If I have backing from family then it'll go over much better with the clearance department.'

'Sirius, I don't even know what your job actually is. I need to know more before I can tell you how much I'm willing to stake in this. I know that I will help in some way - I can't say no if there is the possibility that he's suffering somewhere...'

Sirius nodded, forgetting for a moment that she couldn't see him. 'You do deserve to know more before you work with me - in whatever capacity. However, phones tend to be bugged, annoying habit of theirs...so can I meet you again somewhere?'

There was a small pause before Ginny replied. 'Yes. Tomorrow, middle of Trafalgar Square at midday.'

Sirius laughed. 'How commercial of you.'

Ginny grinned on her end of the line. 'What's wrong with Trafalgar Square? I like the art gallery there.'

'Bad excuse, Ginny. I think that you just want me to meet you in a public place.'

'Well, maybe that's part of it.' Her voice was light.

'Thought so.'

'See you there, then?'

'Yes ma'am.'

They hung up simultaneously, hoping that their next meeting would go somewhat more smoothly than their last. Sirius heard his mirror call out from upstairs as he turned on his radio.

'She called you, then?'

'In our previous conversation - did I mention that my attic is very dusty?'

******