At Moonlight

*****

Harry didn't come back for her before morning. Harry didn't come back for her at noon. Harry didn't come back for her at tea.

It would soon be dark, Ginny knew. Hoping against hope that she'd see him, even though Ginny knew she shouldn't do it, she opened the shutters on one of the front windows and stuck her head out, looking this way and that, hoping to catch sight of him in the tawny sky.

She saw something in the sky, approaching the inn quickly, but it wasn't Harry. It wasn't Harry and it definitely wasn't friendly.

Cursing under her breath, Ginny slammed the shutters closed and crossed to the dilapidated floo, stooping down and reaching inside the cracked flowerpot.

A loud boom sounded and the door blew inward, splintering into a dozen pieces. A large slat of wood slammed against Ginny's shoulder, sending her wand flying as she reeled and fell on her arse.

Death Eaters.

"Incarcerous," one of them sneered, advancing on her as she scrambled after her wand. Thick ropes shot out of the masked man's wand and wound themselves around Ginny's body. She fell prone to the floor, trying like anything to loosen the ropes, but the only thing she succeeded in doing was rubbing the skin on her wrists raw.

"Look for me at moonlight...."

She heard Harry's words in her mind, clinging to them as the Death Eaters laughed at her and prodded her. The night grew old, but she didn't lose hope. Harry's voice was so clear and loud in her mind that it gave her the strength to keep trying; she twisted her hands behind her, working against the bindings. The knots held good but she didn't give up hope, writhing her hands until they were slippery and wet. Whether they were wet with sweat or blood, she did not know.

Outside she could hear the howl of the wind whistle through trees and the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She could feel him. He was coming for her.

They must have sensed it, too, because two of them jumped up out of old, uneven chairs and ran to the space where the door had been. Ginny felt herself being levitated upright and outside, moonlight illuminating her stiff, bound form. Turning her face up to the night sky, she saw him. Harry was speeding toward her and, even though he was too far away to see properly, Ginny knew he wore a worried, frenzied look on his face. She wished she'd her wand so she could warn him somehow, send up red sparks or something, anything. It was a trap, and Harry was headed right for it and oh--

Green.

Green and then

black.

*****

"NO!"

There was a flash of green light and then she fell.

Harry watched Ginny fall.

He should have known. He shouldn't have gone. It'd been a trap, all of it. Voldemort hadn't been there. There hadn't been any sign of him; Harry thought he'd gotten the coordinates buggered up but that hadn't been it. He'd been right; he'd gone to the right place. There just hadnt' been anyone there because it'd been a fucking trap.

As soon as Harry figured it out, he'd headed back to get Ginny, to take her somewhere else, because obviously the inn wasn't safe anymore.
But he'd been too late. Too bloody late.

His voice was so loud that it hurt his ears and he clutched his head, not caring a whit that the ground was fast approaching. What did it matter now that Ginny was gone? He wouldn't ever forgive himself, and he knew that the Weasleys - what was left of them - wouldn't either and--

The Death Eaters were coming out of the inn, wands at the ready.

Harry saw them, saw their cowardly masks and their ridiculous robes and then he saw red.

Harry saw red and hatred pulsed madly through his veins. His feet had scarcely touched the ground before he lit off his broom, wand held high as he charged at them. Blinded by rage and hate and the need for revenge, he flicked and swished and bellowed at the assembled Death Eaters. Chest heaving with effort as he hexed and dodged them, Harry didn't stop until the last bloody coward was felled and the air stank of Dark Magic and burning flesh.

It was only then when the night was finally still that Harry allowed himself to crawl to Ginny's still, bound form. Choking on his sobs, he sat behind her and hauled her up against his chest, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on her shoulder. She was still warm and sweet-smelling, and Harry couldn't hold back his tears any longer.

It was only when he heard two distinct pops behind him that he stopped, keeping one hand on Ginny while he twisted toward the sound brandishing his wand. Standing beside a small pile of bodies were Ron and Hermione. They didn't say anything, just took in the scene around them. Their eyes shifted from the dead Death Eaters to Ginny's body in Harry's arms. Ron swayed on his feet and Hermione took hold of his elbow, dragging him toward Harry and pulling him down as she sank to the ground beside Harry. Ron smoothed his sister's hair, a look of disbelief on his face. Harry could feel Hermione studying him and Ron and he leaned back against her. Hermione opened her arms and wrapped the both of them in her embrace, pulling them close.

The wind whipped through his hair and chilled him right to the bone while the moonlight shone on.