Broken Promises, Shattered Dreams

You were the blue of the sky
You came after the storm
You were the switch on the wall
in the dark of the hall
I'm still fumbling for
Cause I'm lost in the black
I don't know where I am.
Arms stretched out in front
I'm calling your name
Just as loud as I can

- Bright Eyes

Chapter 1 - Flesh, Blood and Bones

The back door of the Burrow flew open and Ginny stumbled in, eyes red and puffy from crying and streaks down her muddy face where her tears had fallen. "Help..." she gasped breathlessly, half choking on the small word. "Help him, please...help him..." she cried as she collapsed onto the hard stone floor of the Weasleys' kitchen. Molly Weasley was shocked at the sudden appearance of her daughter, but quickly regained the feeling in her feet and ran forward to scoop her daughter up in her arms.

"Ginny? Ginny darling, sit up. Come on now, sunshine." Slowly, Ginny opened her eyes and looked up at her mother's kind but worried face.

"Mum?" Ginny reached out to her with her hand, which was red with blood, although there was no sign of a cut.

"Yes sugar, I'm here. What's the matter? What's happened?" asked Mrs. Weasley in the calmest voice she could muster.

"Oh Mum!" Ginny broke into another fit of loud, uncontrollable sobbing. Just then the door swung open again and Ron and Hermione rushed in, giggling and out of breath. They stopped short at the scene in front of them: Molly Weasley cradling a blood-covered Ginny in her arms on the floor while Fleur, Bill and Mr. Weasley looked on, stunned into silence.

"What's going on?" asked a bewildered Ron, eyes wide.

"Where's Harry?" Hermione mumbled, fearing she already knew the answer. Ginny looked up at her, shaking her head wildly, her beautiful blue eyes swimming with crystal tears.

"Dead..." she whispered softly. "Harry's dead."

The silence following her statement was almost deafening. Even the birds outside seemed to stop their jovial twittering. No-one moved, the silence finally broken by Ginny's sobbing once again. Her mother seemed unable to comfort her, or even move for that matter. Hermione knelt down in front of Ginny and took her hands in her own, her eyes pleading.

"Ginny, what do you mean he's dead? Where is he, Ginny?" Hermione asked gently. However, her gentle demeanor quickly disappeared as Ginny simply continued to tremble without answering the question. "Where the hell is he?" Hermione screamed, her hands almost crushing Ginny's.

"They tortured him...in front of me, Hermione, right in front of my eyes. I saw them, I watched them do it..." she trailed off, looking disoriented. "I just watched them...I hid like a coward," Ginny choked.

"Who? Who tortured him, Ginny?" Hermione asked, sounding more and more frantic, her eyes fearful.

"They wore masks...I-I didn't see their faces...seven of them...Death Eaters...seven on one....I didn't do a damn thing. Mum, I didn't help him! He told me to hide and I did!" Ginny wailed.

"What could you have done, sweetheart?" Mrs. Weasley responded. "I can't believe this," she whispered to herself more than anyone else. Mrs. Weasley's face mirrored her horror and she too sported tear-stained cheeks. The shock of first seeing her blood-covered daughter had disappeared as she came to realise that Harry was dead and her now emotionally distraught daughter had witnessed the entire event.

"Where is he?" Hermione persisted.

"Godrics' Hollow...I didn't know what to do, so I left him....Oh my God, I left him... alone...just lying there on the ground...he was so cold," Ginny said, trembling.

Upon hearing this, Hermione walked out of the door, spun on one heel, and produced a loud crack as she Disapparated.

"Go with her Ron," his mother ordered; Ron took one last look around then Apparated after Hermione to Godric's Hollow. Molly turned to look at her daughter once more. "Shh, Ginny, there's a good girl, it's alright, no one blames you -"

"I do," she sobbed.

"You couldn't have done anything!"

"I'm going to see what's happening, the kids shouldn't go alone. It may still be dangerous," Arthur mumbled, looking shaken. "The Ministry may already be there, I'll check before I go, just to be on the safe side. An uproar like this won't have gone unnoticed, I'm sure." Mr. Weasley stepped backwards out of the kitchen and Apparated after Ron and Hermione. The last thing he saw before leaving was his wife cradling a blood-soaked and howling Ginny on the kitchen floor and Bill holding a shocked Fleur in his arms whilst stroking her silvery hair and whispering softly into her ear. His wife's soft face was stained with glittering tears. There never was a sadder sight. Arthur knew that he would never forget this scene; it would be imprinted permanently into his mind as a reminder of just how wrong things could go when they seemed to be coming together.

*************

Arthur arrived at the Ministry of Magic and looked around. The place was in chaos. Officials rushed from place to place, arms full of folders and stacks of parchment. He walked straight over to the witch at reception who was busy with a stack of pale violet-coloured memos. She looked up as Arthur approached her desk. "Is the Minister in?" he asked briskly.

"Afraid not," she answered. "He received some news of a magic related disturbance from the Muggle police and rushed off immediately. Something to do with Mr. Potter, I believe. "

"Thank you," Mr. Weasley answered.

"No problem, Arthur," she said, returning to her memos.

With that, Mr. Weasley turned and left for Godric's Hollow.

*************

Arthur Weasley surveyed the wreckage around him. Jesus Christ, he thought silently to himself. Ministry officials were all over the place and there was blood everywhere. Hermione was on her knees, staring blankly at the ground while Ron held her close to him, looking as though he was scared he might lose her too. Arthur rushed over to Rufus Scrimgeour who was standing nearby talking to a group of important looking wizards in navy cloaks.

"Excuse me, Minister, I need a word," Arthur said, interrupting his conversation. The Minister detached himself from the huddle and stepped aside, looking grim. Arthur gave him a hard look. "Where's Harry?" he asked seriously.

"We've found no body, Mr. Weasley, but there's too much blood here for him to be alive. I'm sorry. A Muggle who lives nearby reported a strange occurrence to the Muggle police, we were informed of it immediately." Arthur stood still, numb with shock. He had been prepared to find that Harry was indeed dead, but not that the body was missing. His worst fears had just been confirmed. He took a few deep breaths before saying anything more.

"I wish I could thank you for the information, Minister, but I don't much like liars and I don't intend on becoming one myself."

"I understand, Arthur. Maybe you should get those two back home," he said, indicating Ron and Hermione who were still kneeling together on the ground, Hermione now shaking with silent sobs. "This is no place for a couple of kids, though I understand they were close to Harry. I may have to arrange to meet with them some time in the near future to discuss this catastrophe, for lack of a better word." Scrimgeour spoke in a very professional and stern manner, his voice devoid of emotion.

"Do you really think that's necessary, Minister? They're so young and they've just lost their best friend. What could they possibly tell you? They weren't even here when it happened. I doubt any information they have will prove useful in your investigation."

"They didn't have to be here, but they may know something that could prove vital to our search. There were no known witnesses other than the Muggle and he's not much use, and as they were close to the victim, they're the best we've got to find any important leads."

"My daughter, Ginny, she...saw it," Mr. Weasley murmured, almost afraid to divulge the information.

"Excuse me? She's a witness? She knows what happened?" asked Scrimgeour sharply, his eyes widening slightly.

"Yes...she came here with Harry to visit his parents' graves; she returned home about half an hour ago. She's a mess, Minister, she can't even stand up. I don't think she's in any shape to speak to anyone right now...least of all Ministry officials." Arthur said with an uneasy tone, knowing exactly what the minister had in mind.

"I understand that, but please bear in mind that we will need to speak with your daughter soon; we need to know full details and who was involved. You know the procedure."

"Yes, I do," Arthur said, sighing. "She mentioned Death Eaters but she didn't recognize any of them; they were wearing masks. She said there were seven of them; she said...they tortured him. That was all we could get out of her, though she did mention that she left here when she saw his body on the ground. She's covered in blood too."

"Arthur, I understand the situation but you do understand the procedure and you know what must be done," Scrimgeour said apologetically.

"Yes, but give her some time, please, Minister. She's still just a child. I think that's what everyone needs at the moment...a little time."

One of the ministry officials came over to where they were standing and nodded to Mr. Weasley in acknowledgement. "Mr. Scrimgeour, Shacklebolt needs you, says it's urgent."

"Yes, yes, I'll be right there," he snapped. Turning back to Arthur, he cleared his throat. "Terribly sorry, Arthur, but I must go; I have things to tend to. I'll be in touch soon." He turned and followed the official across the bloody mess that was Godric's Hollow. Mr. Weasley turned away and looked around. Hermione and Ron were nearby, still holding each other closely but standing now. They watched him closely, waiting for any news of what had happened to Harry.

"Dad, what did Scrimgeour say?" questioned Ron, obviously hoping for a bit of good news.

"There's no body," Arthur answered flatly.

Hermione looked up, a tiny glint of hope in her big brown eyes.

"But he's most certainly dead, there's too much blood. I'm sorry kids. Scrimgeour said he'll need to see Ginny as soon as possible, you two as well. I think right now we ought to be heading home and inform the rest of what's going on, they'll want to know."

Ron nodded dumbly, not knowing what he should say. Just then, Rufus Scrimgeour came hurrying towards Arthur.

"Mr. Weasley, terribly sorry, but I need you to accompany me back to the Ministry. I may also need to see your daughter a little sooner than originally anticipated. Shacklebolt found a Death Eater, Abraham Forrester, lurking nearby. We think he may know where Harry's body is, unfortunately we'll need your daughter to come and see if she recognizes him before we can detain him indefinitely."

"I'll have a word with Ginny and my wife about that. Right now though, I'm going to get these two home. Family comes first, I'm afraid. It's all that some of us have." With that, he, Ron and Hermione apparated back to the Burrow, leaving Scrimgeour standing alone. Mr. Weasley's departing words had hit home with Rufus, which was where he ought to be.

*************

After briefly filling in the rest of the family on what had transpired at Godric's Hollow, Arthur Weasley retired to his armchair. He needed to rest and collect his thoughts. Harry had been like a son to him; Harry had saved his life, his daughter's and Ron's. Half of the Weasley clan seemed to owe him their life, not to mention more than half of the wizarding world. But Harry had died alone. There was nothing Ginny could have done to help, what would a Bat-Bogey hex have done to seven fully schooled Death Eaters who'd been trained to kill and torture? What if she had tried? Would he now be sitting in his armchair grieving for his daughter too?

Molly Weasley sat at the kitchen table, her face buried in her hands, shoulders shaking. Fleur and Bill were on a bench outside wrapped together tightly in a soft woolen blanket. Ginny was tucked away in bed; Molly had put her there after cleaning her up as best she could. Ron and Hermione had retired to Ron's room to grieve, away from prying eyes. Molly sighed heavily. She felt like she'd lost one of her sons; losing Harry was like losing a son in her eyes. He'd been through so much in his short life. After vanquishing Lord Voldemort, he'd thought the war was over....Everyone thought it was over. It turned out that the end of that war triggered off the beginning of a new battle. Voldemort's supporters, instead of giving up when their leader was finally conquered, seemed to become stronger. They wanted revenge, to make their ex-master proud, to claim his power for themselves, to become the next Lord Voldemort. The Death Eater numbers were less though now, many of Voldemort's supporters had been killed in battle and some had simply turned themselves in after his death, some had returned to the "good" side, but there were some that remained faithful to his memory, and they were dangerous.

In Ron's room, Hermione and Ron were sitting in silence; Hermione's head rested in Ron's lap as he leaned against the wall, stroking her soft, bushy hair. They had cried together for a short while, but soon their tears had dried up and they found themselves sitting in silence, understanding every unspoken word between them.

Bill held Fleur close, pulling the blanket tighter around their entangled bodies. "Poor 'Arry, I cannot believe zis eez 'appening," Fleur mumbled.

"I know, it seems so...surreal," replied Bill solemnly.

"And to theenk of Ron an' 'Ermione, zey must be distraught!" Fleur lamented. Bill nodded into her hair. She turned and looked up at him, running her fingers delicately down the scar on the side of his face. "I am so glad you are 'ere. I love you Bill, and do not ever forget eet," she said, suddenly looking stern.

"I know, I love you too and don't YOU ever forget it either." He placed a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose and pulled her closer to him as if he was afraid that she'd be taken from him as Harry had been taken from so many people.

"To theenk that today was going to be such a 'appy day. We were supposed to celebrating," Fleur said sadly.

"I know; we'll tell them our news soon. Once we've all had a bit of time to accept what's happened..." Bill trailed off.

Fleur nodded into Bill's shoulder, breathing in the faint scent of his cologne, a smell she never grew tired of. She tilted her head upward so she could admire the features of her husband and father of her child. "Bill?" she whispered.

"Hmmm," he said, looking down so he could see her.

"Promise me now zat you will never leave me, no matter what!"

He kissed her lightly on the lips. "I swear."

With that, they held each other as close as they could; Bill's right hand slowly massaging Fleur's still smooth stomach.

*************

Later that evening Molly prepared tea and biscuits for the family. Fred and George had arrived a while earlier after receiving an owl informing them of what had happened. They now sat across from each other at the table, drinking what Mrs. Weasley hoped was tea and having a quiet, subdued conversation. Molly enchanted the tea trays to float and follow her throughout the house as she dropped them off with each of her remaining family members. She then made her way up to Ron's room at the top of the house, intending to drop off at Ginny's room last so she could spend some time with her daughter. She'd been through so much today, too much. More than any normal seventeen year old should have to go through. She stopped outside Ron's room and listened for a few seconds. There wasn't any noise coming from her son's room so she popped her head around the door. Ron and Hermione sat silently together, Hermione's head still rested on his lap while Ron absentmindedly stroked her hair. "Hello you two," she said, giving them the warmest smile she could muster. "Thought you might like some tea and biscuits."

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said with a watery smile.

"It's nothing dear and please just call me Molly, Hermione." She returned Hermione's smile.

"Thank you, Molly," she whispered.

Ron remained silent throughout the exchange; he didn't trust himself to speak for fear of unshed tears betraying him.

"These are hard times, you two," murmured Molly. "Just don't forget what life is about, sometimes it's too easy to just forget." Hermione and Ron looked up at her, nodding. She smiled sadly again and took the last tray down the stairs to Ginny's room.

She knocked gently to see if Ginny was awake and when no reply came, she opened the door a crack. Ginny sat on her windowsill, silently watching the gnomes on the back yard sneaking out of their holes to steal a few carrots from the Weasley's vegetable patch. She hadn't heard her mother enter the room, so Mrs. Weasley quietly watched her for a few moments before announcing her presence. "Honey, I thought you might like some tea and biscuits. It's been a long day." Ginny nodded but did not turn around to look at her mother. Molly took a few steps towards her and placed her hands onto Ginny's shoulder, but Ginny jerked her shoulder away from her mother's grasp and turned to face her.

"I don't want sympathy," she stated. Her voice was soft but had a sharp edge to it that Mrs. Weasley had never heard her daughter use before. Molly watched her a few moments before nodding.

"I know sweetheart. I just want you to know Ginny, that I am here for you if you need anything, anything at all."

Ginny looked at her with a blank expression.

"I need to get rid of the image of Harry, lying there in his own blood. I need you to erase today," Ginny said simply, looking straight into her mother's warm blue eyes. Molly hadn't fully understood what her daughter was aking for, thinking that Ginny just didn't want to acknowledge the events of that day.

"I'm sorry, but that's one thing I can't do." Molly sighed heavily, her eyes large and pitiful.

"Yes, you can."

"What do you mean, Ginny?" she asked, understanding still having not dawned on her.

"I want a memory charm. I want to remember him as Harry! Not as a heap of flesh, blood and bones just lying there!" she said, breaking into hysterics.

Mrs. Weasley looked at her daughter. What if she did perform the memory charm? It would make Ginny happier but then she would be in serious trouble with the ministry. They needed Ginny for questioning, they needed her to give evidence.

"Mum, will you do it?" Ginny pleaded.

"I'm sorry Ginny, I-I can't. At least, not now, sweetheart. The Ministry wants you to answer some questions about what happened today. I could erase something crucial to their search for Harry; I could be sent to Azkaban for it. I'd be interfering with a witness; it would look suspicious to some that don't understand your situation."

"Their search for Harry? What do you mean their search for Harry? WHERE'S HARRY?" Ginny screamed, her eyes suddenly blazing.

"He wasn't at Godric's Hollow; the Death Eaters must have had second thoughts about leaving the body there and came back for it once you'd left."

Ginny's eyes looked like stormy oceans. "Why?! What's the point? They'd already tortured him! They'd already murdered him! What more do they want from him? HE'S DEAD, GODDAMN IT - WHY CAN'T THEY LEAVE HIM ALONE?" she cried, tears falling freely down her angry face as she breathed heavily. Molly enveloped Ginny in a hug. At first, Ginny tried to squirm out of the embrace, then gave up and returned the gesture. She needed someone, however much she didn't want to admit it.

"Please Ginny, don't get worked up. They'll find him, don't worry. He'll rest in peace." Or pieces she added silently, shuddering at the thought. She had to be strong for her children, but inside Molly felt as though a part of her heart had been ripped out and torn to shreds. She remained optimistic though. "They'll find the body, they have to," she thought, even if just for the sake of her family.

Molly didn't know how long she'd stood there, silently clutching Ginny close to her, her eyes closed in thought, but when she opened her eyes, it was getting dark outside Ginny's window. She broke free of her daughter's grip and brought the tea tray over to the bed, where Ginny now sat, quietly humming a soft, sad melody and staring out into the darkness. She warmed the tea with her wand and handed Ginny a cup, summoning one for herself from the kitchen. They sat drinking and occasionally dunking a biscuit, but not a word was spoken. Eventually Ginny announced she needed some sleep and Molly left her, wishing her peaceful sleep and sweet dreams, knowing that the chances of that happening was slim to none.

*************

Ron and Hermione were now sitting on Ron's floor, now finished with their tea and biscuits. They weren't sure what to do with themselves. Ron cleared his throat and turned to Hermione; he wanted to know how she felt. He needed to know how the people around him were feeling, mainly so he could distinguish what his exact feelings were. "What are you thinking about?" he asked quietly.

She smiled sadly. "I don't know; this all seems so unreal. I just saw him this morning; you two were poking fun at me and laughing with each other, like any other day of the week. I watched him eat his breakfast and laughed at him flicking cereal at you...I suppose it's just hard to accept that he's gone when this morning everything was so...normal."

Ron nodded his understanding and gave Hermione a small half-smile.

"How about you?" she asked. "How are you feeling?"

Ron heaved a sigh and let his head fall back against his bed so he was looking directly at the ceiling. "Same as you really, it is all pretty surreal. Our trio's down to two...and it doesn't feel good. It's strange...too quiet."

"Yeah I know, can tripods stand with only two legs?" Hermione asked to no one in particular.

"What's a tripod?" Ron asked, looking quizzically at Hermione. Hermione gave a brief laugh in spite of herself.

"It's a piece of Muggle science equipment with three legs."

"Oh, right." Silence fell between them. A few minutes later, Ron spoke again. "Muggles are pretty weird if you ask me."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at his off-the-mark comment. Ron continued, "I know you're, like, Muggleborn but I just don't understand how someone could live without magic. What do they teach in Muggle schools if they can't teach transfiguration or charms...or even potions and divination?"

"Well, they teach English which is writing and stuff and Science which is pretty similar to potions and Maths which is-"

Ron cut her off with a laugh. "Sorry, it just seems so strange. Explaining it to me would be a waste of time."

Hermione smiled at Ron, shaking her head. "I know, even to me it seems a little strange, and I used to go to a Muggle school!"

Without knowing what the other was thinking, they were both relieved not to have to think about the pain of Harry's death. They continued idly talking about various Muggle related subjects until the clock struck midnight. "I can't believe it's midnight already," Ron sighed. "Are you tired?" he asked Hermione.

"Not particularly. I am cold though, and my bum and legs are aching from sitting on the floor for so long. Do you mind if we sit in your bed for a bit before we actually turn in?"

Ron shook his head. "Course, my arse went numb ages ago."

Laughing slightly, they clambered under Ron's bright orange Chudley Cannons bedspread. He may have been eighteen, but he was like a five year old at Christmas when it came to Quidditch. "Much better, I may soon regain the feeling in my fingers," laughed Hermione.

"Here, give me your hands,'" said Ron, taking Hermione's small hands in his own. He rubbed her fingers as she watched, wonder in her eyes, as though he was performing some kind of amazing spell. "Better?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Much better," she said softly. He held her gaze for a few moments before leaning in and pressing his lips against hers, but pulled away after only a few short moments, ears pink and an embarassed look across his face.

"I'm sorry... I shouldn't have... You know, not after today... I know it's has been a bit....well...you know but -" His words were cut off as Hermione covered his mouth with her own.

She didn't want to hear what he had to say. She just wanted to feel his lips on hers. She wanted to know that she could still be happy, to a certain extent, even while the world around her fell apart. Without breaking the kiss, Hermione pulled Ron slowly down so that he lay on top of her. They lost track of time as they continued kissing and exploring each other's bodies with anxious hands. Before long, Hermione decided that she wasn't content; she didn't want to just kiss Ron, she wanted more. How much more, she didn't know. All she did know was that more was what she wanted. She snaked one hand around his back while she ran her other across his broad chest. He responded by sliding his hands slowly up her back and across her smooth stomach until she moved one of his hands onto her breast. Surprised, he broke their kiss, drawing back to look down at her. Hermione moaned slightly, pulling Ron back towards her as she moved her hands to the waistband of his jeans, undoing the button. With shaking hands, he moved to unhook her bra. Breathing heavily, they slowly removed each other's shirts, trying desperately not to break the kiss for too long. Hermione knew she was acting recklessly but she was past caring, she wanted to lose herself in this kiss, to forget her pain. She felt dizzy thinking about everything that had happened today, the loss of Harry still crushing her, so she stopped thinking. She no longer cared about consequences, she just wanted to fill the void inside herself, a result of the loss of one of the best friends she had ever had.

Hermione moved one hand inside Ron's boxer shorts. At this, he stopped her and pulled away, looking down at her seriously.

"Are you sure you're ready?" he asked.