Where the Wild Things Are

Where the Wild Things Are

Chapter 4

Hermione took a deep breath, staring apprehensively at the Weasleys' front door. She glanced nervously back at her mother and father, who were looking at her expectantly. Her mother smiled warmly and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Go ahead, love."

Hermione nodded, took another deep breath, and then reached out her hand and pressed her finger against the Weasleys' doorbell. From somewhere within The Burrow, Hermione heard the sound of a rooster crowing, followed by two or three little explosions and a lot of thundering footsteps (presumably people coming down the rickety staircase). She could only assume that the explosions meant the twins were home now.

Hermione looked nervously back at her parents again. They had met the Weasleys once or twice in Diagon Alley, but this would be their first time in a wizarding home, not to mention the first time they'd be spending extended amounts of time with Ron. She had told them upon her return home earlier that week about her relationship with Ron. Her mother had gone into raptures about what a nice boy Ron had seemed when she'd met him. Hermione assumed she was making it up in order to be supportive, since Hermione had had to spend nearly fifteen minutes describing their meeting before her mother remembered whom she meant. Her father had pursed his lips, nodded, and said that as long as Ron was a gentleman, then he wouldn't tie Ron down and drill holes in his teeth without anesthetic.

Later on though, her mother had sat her down to talk about Ron.

'Mum, I know you and Dad were hoping that I'd go out with Dr. Slone's son down the road, but-'

'Oh, please, Hermione. Mrs Slone wanted to set you two up, not me. He's dull as powder, dear, you should at least be with someone amusing.'

'Well, Ron certainly is that...' Hermione fell silent for a moment. 'Mum, how did you know that Dad was... you know, "the one"?'

Her mother smiled, and blushed a little, glancing over at her father. 'I just knew, that's all. When you love someone...well, you tell me what it's like.'

Hermione thought about it for a moment, trying not to blush. 'He makes my head go all tingly...' she said bashfully.

Her mother nodded comprehension. 'I know. It's wonderful, isn't it? Trust your intuition, love. If this boy Ron is in your heart, then follow it. When has following your heart ever led you wrong?'

Hermione smiled inwardly at the memory, taking comfort in her mother's firm, encouraging grip on her shoulder. What was she worried about? Everything would be fine.

From the other side of the door Hermione heard Mrs Weasley hiss, 'Ron, tuck your shirt in!' and then, after a loud scuffling and another explosion from deep within the house, the door opened to reveal six red-haired people, and Harry off to one side, beaming out at them. Hermione did a quick visual sweep of the people present. Mr and Mrs Weasley were standing together; Mr Weasley wearing one of his most ridiculous muggle outfits yet (a lurid orange jumper with red knitted footballs all over it, a red and green kilt and a golf hat). In the back were Bill and Charlie, who must have gotten time off from work to come home. Ron and Ginny were standing with Harry. Harry and Ginny were both smiling warmly at her, and Ron looked so nervous that Hermione was afraid he might be sick.

"Umm, hi," Hermione said. "Mum, Dad, you remember Mr and Mrs Weasley."

Her parents both smiled and nodded.

"It's a pleasure, really," said her mother, and Hermione noticed her elbow her father in the ribs.

"Yes," said her father, stepping forward. "Yes, a real pleasure. Mrs Weasley, Mr Weasley," he said, nodding to each of them. Hermione saw him glance momentarily at Ron and felt her stomach leap into her throat.

"Please," said Mr Weasley, stepping eagerly forward and extending his hand. "Call me Arthur."

"Oh," said Mrs Weasley, also stepping forward. "I'm being horribly rude. Do come in, you must be frozen," she ushered them in, shut the door behind them and started taking coats and hats. "I do wish you could have traveled here by Floo, but with things being the way they are at the moment, the Ministry has had our Floo disconnected from the Network. It's been horribly inconvenient, I can tell you."

They all walked into the kitchen, which looked more neat and tidy than Hermione was ever used to seeing The Burrow. Usually the kitchen in the Burrow was the center of activity, a cluttered mass of books, cooking and stray jumpers. Mrs Weasley had obviously outdone herself.

Everyone sat around the table, except for Mrs Weasley, who bustled around serving people tea and biscuits. Hermione jumped out of her seat to help. She and Mrs Weasley had had the occasional moment of friction in the past, when Mrs Weasley had thought that Hermione had been dating (and cheating on) Harry. Now that she was dating Ron, Hermione was determined to make sure they got on well.

"So, Miss Mouse," said her father, and Hermione cringed inwardly at the use of her pet name in front of Ron and Harry. Hermione noticed out of the corner of her eye that Harry had raised his eyebrows in amusement and Ginny was grinning madly. "Aren't you going to introduce us to everyone?"

Hermione blushed. She knew that her father wanted a formal introduction to Ron.

"Oh, sorry," said Mr Weasley. "This is Bill, my eldest, Charlie, and Ginny" he said pointing to each of them as he said them. "Fred and George are upstairs right now," he said, glancing uneasily at Mrs Weasley.

Mrs Weasley pursed her lips and nodded. "Yes, they're... working..." She then sat down beside Mr Weasley with a cup of tea.

At that moment there was another explosion, and the ceiling rattled, raining dust down onto them. Hermione caught Harry's eye, and coughed in an attempt to disguise her snort of laughter.

Mr Weasley pretended not to notice. "I think you've met Ron and Harry already," he said.

Hermione gulped and glanced at her mother, who smiled encouragingly at her. Her father nodded politely at both of them, his stare lingering on Ron.

"Nice to see you again, Mr Granger, Mrs Granger," said Ron in a strangled sort of voice.

And then there was silence. The room was filled only with the sound of people sipping tea and the musical clink of teacups being put back in saucers. Ron shifted in his chair and glanced at Hermione. Mrs Weasley was looking around the room, perhaps hoping to see something she could go and clean. Hermione's mother was watching with interest the progress of the washing up that was being done on its own in the sink, and her father looked like he was trying very hard to not reach across the table and threaten Ron with tooth drills.

"So..." said Mr Weasley, "so you two are... are teeth healers?"

Hermione saw Ron roll his eyes, and she suppressed a giggle.

"Dentists," said her father, taking another sip of his tea.

"Yes, and you fix teeth? How do you manage that without any magic?"

"Well," her father started, looking a little nonplussed. "We use different appliances to correct bite problems..."

Mr Weasley looked intrigued and opened his mouth to ask more questions, but Mrs Weasley interrupted. "Arthur, we talked about this. The Grangers are on holiday. They don't want to discuss their work, do you? Of course not." There was a tone of finality in her voice that stopped anyone from arguing the point.

And they fell once more into silence. Hermione looked from her parents to the Weasleys (Ron, mostly) and thought madly of something they could talk about. The minutes ticked loudly by from the clock on the wall, and everyone sipped their tea, glancing uncomfortably at one another out of the corners of their eyes.

After a long moment, Mrs Weasley let out an exasperated sigh and put her teacup down.

"Oh for pity's sake, this is ridiculous," she said. "We're all sitting here awkwardly because we all know that Hermione and Ron are dating now, and none of us wants to say anything. Well, that's quite enough of that, thank you. Ron?"

Ron's eyes went wide and his face went very white. "Yes?"

"Do you promise Mr and Mrs Granger that you'll be a gentleman and treat Hermione well?" Hermione went very pink and bowed her head.

Ron gulped, glanced at Hermione and then nodded. "Yes." Then, after a moment, added, "of course."

"Right then," said Hermione's mother, taking her cue from Mrs Weasley. She turned to Hermione's father. "That should be enough for you, Walter. Now smile and shake the boy's hand already."

Ron looked like he would have been much happier if they'd left it at that, but extended his hand to Hermione's father. After a moment's hesitation and a very severe look from her mother, he reached over and shook Ron's hand.

"Right," said Mrs Weasley, with her signature note of finality, "Mr Granger," she began.

"Yes?" he responded, looking a little taken aback at her straightforward manner.

"Hermione told us that you like to tinker with, er, automobiles."

Hermione's father nodded, glancing at Hermione. He leaned forward then, looking less embarrassed and a little more interested.

"Oh yes," said Hermione's mother, "cars are rather a hobby of Walter's. You should see our garage; it's in constant chaos, with all those spare parts and tools of his."

"Really?" said Mr Weasley eagerly. "I should love to show you my own garage. I recently acquired a new car--"

And with that they both stood up, all awkwardness forgotten.

"Oh yes," said Hermione's father. "What make?"

"Make? I'm not sure what you mean, but it has the letters 'B, M, and W on the back..."

"Really?" her father replied, looking excited. "That's extraordinary."

"Yes, and I wanted to make a few..." he glanced warily back at Mrs Weasley, "adjustments. But I'm having trouble figuring out..."

His voice faded away as they closed the door behind them.

"Mrs Weasley," her mother said, glancing at Hermione, and then smiling warmly at Mrs Weasley. "Will you do me the pleasure of showing me your garden? It looked just gorgeous from out front."

Mrs Weasley looked pleased and a little surprised. "Yes..." she said, standing up. "Yes, of course. And do call me Molly."

"Molly, of course."

Both women stood up and headed for the door, grabbing their coats from the stand.

"Ron," said Mrs Weasley, turning back. "Why don't you get the Grangers' luggage stored away in the guest room?"

Ron nodded, then glancing at Hermione, added "It's nice to meet you again, Mrs Granger."

Hermione's mother smiled encouragingly at him. "Please, Ron, call me Shirley."

Inside, Hermione glowed.

* * *

Ginny opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. She sat up in bed and looked around her room. Hermione was asleep in her cot on the other side of the room.

It was one week into holidays, and Hermione and her parents had been with them for a few days now. After the initial awkwardness of their arrival, the atmosphere in the Burrow had been very warm and relaxed. Ron was getting on extremely well with both Hermione's parents. In fact, when Hermione had come up to bed tonight, she'd said that Ron was staying up with her father to see how this muggle 'internet' thing worked (Hermione's father had a small, hand-held computer.) Ron had become almost as interested in muggle things are their father was, though Ginny wondered how much of his interest was out of desire to impress Hermione's parents.

Christmas had been fantastic. The house was full of more people than the Burrow had ever managed to hold before. Fortunately, the house had rather expanded in the past few years, with new rooms and floors being added on like puzzle pieces (Hermione and Ginny were sleeping in a new room up on the top floor.) Several members of the Order had been there, including Professor Lupin and the healer from St. Mungo's, Diana Inle. There had been a lot of bustle and toasting when he had announced that she was, in fact, his fiancée and they would be getting married in a year from now. Ginny still thought it was a little weird (teachers, even former teachers, weren't supposed to have personal lives), but Harry had seemed extremely pleased.

The only real source of awkwardness had been when Dean had arrived two days ago. Ginny had been trying very hard to push back the guilty feeling living inside her. Every time Dean kissed her, or showed her any affection at all, she couldn't help thinking of Draco and how she missed him. She felt disgusted with herself and what she was doing to Dean. To make matters worse, Hermione seemed to have noticed that something was up; she kept glancing at her suspiciously whenever Dean was around, or whenever Draco was mentioned. It had been inevitable, really. Hermione had always been able to pick up on these things.

Ginny sighed and glanced at the clock on her table. 3:30am. Ginny sighed and rolled over.

There was a sudden loud bang, and a yell from somewhere close by, and Hermione sat bolt upright in her cot.

Ginny reached for her dressing gown and climbed out of bed.

"Did you hear that?" Hermione asked, looking wide-eyed and throwing back her covers.

"Yeah, a yell. It sounded like--"

Another yell cut her off, this one louder and more distinct.

"Harry," Hermione finished, sounding panicked. She grabbed her dressing gown and they both ran for the door and piled out onto the hallway. Ron and Harry were three floors below them. Ginny and Hermione reached the first landing at the same time as Bill and Charlie were coming out of the room they were sharing.

"What's going on?" asked Bill, tying his robe tightly in front.

"I don't know," Ginny said, glancing down the hallway to where Fred and George were coming out of their room. "Somebody yelled, we thought it was-,"

They were just reaching the staircase when a piercing scream sounded from far below.

Hermione gasped. "Mum!" She dashed down the stairs at break-neck speed, and the others thundered after her, down the stairs, past Harry's door, past their parents' door and into the living room.

And what greeted them there made Ginny gasp in horror.

*

Harry opened his eyes, suddenly wide-awake. He glanced at the clock: 3:25. What had woken him? He listened hard, thinking that perhaps the attic's ghoul had been dropping pipes above his room again. He looked across at Ron's bed, which was still empty. Harry assumed that Ron was still up with Hermione's father, tinkering with some muggle contraption or other.

A frosty breeze was blowing across the room, and Harry wondered vaguely why the window was open. Had he opened it before going to bed? He sat up and looked across the room. The curtains were rustling lightly. Harry climbed out of bed and crossed the room to the window, looking cautiously out. All seemed quiet, and the stars overhead were twinkling brightly. It was really a very beautiful night.

Harry took a deep breath, taking in the scents of winter and Christmas. The breeze smelled of pine trees, like a forest clearing at night. Only sweeter somehow, like strawberries. There was a strange, coppery scent as well, and it got stronger every moment. Coppery... like blood almost. Blood and damp moss...

'The Fae leave a place smelling like damp moss and blood wherever they go.'

'Well now. Yes, that is interesting...Be seeing you...'

There is nothing quite so alarming as the slow realization that one is not alone. When Harry turned around to see a young woman standing before him, he let out a yell of surprise. She lowered her hood, a mane of very dark, thick hair falling to her waist, and smiled at him in a way that made a chill run down his spine. She stared at him, looking him straight in the eyes, and Harry felt suddenly as if a protecting veil had been pulled back. He took a step backward, and felt the windowsill against his back. He looked quickly to the door, noting that he'd have to get past her in order to make an escape.

Two pairs of clawed hands gripped his arms and held him tightly, and Harry let out another yell, louder this time. He looked behind him to the people holding him, if they could be called 'people' at all. They were both very short, no more than three feet high. The one on his right was a woman, with long, crayon-red hair, dark eyes and a wicked smile. The one on his left looked to be a boy no older than twelve, with black, spiked hair and a toothy grin. Both were clothed in grey and had dark hoods which had been pushed back to reveal very pointy ears tattooed with an organic, ivy-like design.

"Hello, Harry," said the woman before him, an amused and dangerous grin spreading across her lips. "It's good to see you again."

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves and think clearly. A million questions sprang into his mind, and it was a moment before he could get even one of them out.

"What are you?" he asked, glancing at the door. Surely someone had heard him yell?

"That's a little rude... My name is Sheridan," she said. "I'm a Fae, of course, of the Sidhe Clan. And you can stop waiting for your friends to burst through the door and rescue you. They won't be coming."

At that moment Harry heard a thundering of footsteps on the stairs, coming toward his room.

"Oh yeah?" Harry said, but his smile quickly faded as the footsteps ran past his door and faded away.

Sheridan was smiling at him again, and the creatures holding him began to cackle madly.

"I should think," said Sheridan, "that they're rather preoccupied at the moment." She reached out and picked up Harry's cloak from the edge of his bed. "It's cold where we're going, Harry. You'll need this."

*

The sitting room was filled with Death Eaters, twenty at least. Ginny felt a sickening lurch of her stomach as she caught sight of four unconscious bodies, slumped in one corner. Moody, Lupin, Tonks and Shacklebolt, who had been the Aurors on duty that night. In the center of the room, bound and held by several of Voldemort's masked servants, were a number of people. Hermione's parents were kneeling together, holding each other tightly and looking terrified. Ginny's parents and Ron were kneeling next to them, their hands bound behind their backs. Dean wasn't anywhere to be seen, and Ginny let out a small breath of relief. He must still be asleep in his room. Her relief didn't last long though, as she noticed that Ron was bleeding from a bad cut on his forehead, and his leg was sticking out at an odd angle.

"Ron!" Hermione shrieked, and started forward, but a Death Eater stepped quickly forward and pulled both she and Ginny back.

"Now, now," said a cold, drawling voice, which Ginny instantly recognized. Lucius Malfoy's. He walked toward her, pointing his wand at her. "Take their wands," he said to the Death Eater holding her. Silently, the man (or woman, Ginny couldn't tell) complied. Then Lucius turned to the others. "Cover them all and disarm them."

Ten Death Eaters moved instantly to Ginny's brothers.

It happened very quickly. Fred and George both jumped forward, shouting, their wands extended. A flash of brilliant light filled the room, and red and green sparks showered over them. Somewhere in the distance, Ginny thought she could hear her mother screaming. When the light faded and the smoke cleared, five bodies were lying in a heap on the floor. Three Death Eaters, as well as Fred and George.

Ginny could hear someone screaming, and there was sharp pain in her shoulders. It took her a moment to realize that the screaming was coming from her own throat as she struggled against her captor to get to her brothers. Her mother had dissolved into tears, and her father and brothers were all fighting madly against their restraints.

"There now," drawled Lucius from behind his mask, and Ginny felt sick to her stomach, "see what happens when you struggle?" He pointed his wand once more at her and turned to look at the rest of her family. "Now please, calm down, or your lovely daughter here will join them."

Her parents and brothers fell silent, except for her mother's stifled sobs.

"Thank you," Lucius said. He then made a vague gesture to two of the other Death Eaters, who pulled Hermione's parents forward. "Now, Miss Granger. Perhaps you'd be so good as to give me some information. Last year Potter was told the contents of a certain prophesy. As his best friend, I'm sure he spoke to you about it."

Hermione wiped the tears from her eyes and tore her gaze away from Fred and George's motionless bodies. "Wh- Why me?"

"Well, we tried asking your charming boyfriend here," started Lucius, gesturing to Ron, "but I'm afraid he wasn't very forthcoming. The Potter boy's 'hero' complex seems to be contagious. But you... well, I'm sure that you don't want anything to happen to your dear muggle parents, now do you?"

Ginny saw Hermione swallow, and then shake her head.

"Don't tell him, Hermione!" Ron burst out, but Lucius just ignored him.

"Come now, Miss Granger, we haven't all night."

Hermione stared at her parents for a long moment, and Ginny held her breath, keeping one eye on Lucius' wand.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Mum, Dad," Hermione said. She glanced at Ron, and then turned to look at Lucius. "But I'm not telling you anything."

Ginny could almost see Lucius' grin behind his mask.

"Well, I must confess," Lucius said, "I'm rather glad to hear that. I was a little worried that you'd tell us everything right away, and I wouldn't have the pleasure..."

He pointed his wand at Hermione's mother and quietly muttered "Crucio."

Hermione's mother fell to the floor, writhing and screaming mercilessly. Ginny closed her eyes and listened to her shrieks, matched only by the indignant and horrified cries of Hermione and her father. The Death Eater holding her tightened his grip on her arms, and Ginny opened her eyes to look up at him, but he was watching Hermione's mother thrashing and flailing helplessly.

After a few agonizing moments, Lucius raised his wand and Hermione's mother stopped screaming, and laid panting and whimpering on the floor.

"Let's try again, shall we?" said Lucius, his voice perfectly calm, almost amused. "The Prophesy. What did it say?"

"I don't know!" Hermione cried through her tears. "He didn't tell us, okay?"

"I very much doubt that, Miss Granger."

He pointed his wand at Hermione's mother again and hissed the curse, the enjoyment in his voice ringing in Ginny's ears. As her agonized shrieks filled the room, a red-hot hatred boiled up in Ginny, and she steeled herself against the urge to throw herself at Lucius like her brothers had done. How could Draco be his son? She was filled with a sudden desperate desire to see Draco, certain that if she could just throw herself into his arms, everything would be all right.

Lucius held the curse on the poor woman longer this time, and the Death Eaters in the room started to laugh. Hermione cried and screamed, and her father fought, swearing, against his bonds.

"Stop it!" Ginny heard herself screech. "Just stop, I'll tell you what the Prophesy said!"

Lucius lifted the curse, and turned to look at her. Ginny swallowed against the lump in her throat, thinking quickly. Hermione was staring at her hard, but Ginny ignored her, afraid that if she looked at her she'd give away her bluff.

"Oh really?" said Lucius. "Potter told you the contents of the Prophesy, did he?"

Ginny nodded firmly. "Yes, he did. Let them go, and I'll tell you what it said."

Lucius regarded her for a moment. Then he looked at the Death Eater holding her, who shook his head. Ginny held her breath, praying he would believe her.

"If that is the case," said Lucius, "then why did you tell my son that Potter had confided only in Miss Granger and Mr Weasley?"

Ginny faltered, and felt as though her heart had been plunged into ice-cold water. How did he know that?

Because Draco told him, said a nasty voice in the back of her mind. Ginny felt all the air escape from her lungs and time seemed to stand still. No... No, he couldn't have.

Don't be stupid, of course he could, said the voice. You knew he couldn't be trusted, Ginny Weasley. You knew he'd be your downfall. You went to him anyway.

And, of course, it all fell into place. That's how the Death Eaters had known where to find them, known to expect enchantments and Aurors. This whole thing, Hermione's mother, Ron's injuries, Fred, George... it was all her fault.

"No..." she whispered. She looked around at her family; suddenly grateful that Dean was not present. All of them were looking at her with confused expressions. Except for Hermione, whose mouth was open in shock and horror.

"Ginny, you didn't..." she said. "I mean, I knew that something... but you didn't tell him things... not about Harry?"

Ginny opened her mouth to explain, to defend herself, but no sound came out. What defense could she give? None of this made any sense to her. It couldn't all have been a lie, could it? The things he'd said to her, the desperation with which he'd clung to her... No, there was no way that all of it had been false. He had needed her, the way she had needed him. She was sure of it.

"No," Ginny said, and turned to look at Lucius. "I don't believe you. Draco didn't tell you anything, he wouldn't have."

And Lucius laughed, cold and cruel.

"Ah yes, my dear," he said. "When all else fails, a total unwillingness to look facts in the face will see us through. Draco? Educate our young Miss Weasley, won't you?"

Ginny felt a cold stab of horror as the Death Eater holding her let go of her arms. With one hand he took hold of his mask and pulled, and with the other he lowered his hood. His white-blonde hair fell messily across his eyes, icy grey and cold. He glanced at his father, then around at the surrounding Death Eaters, and then looked once more at Ginny. And then he smiled.

"I told you I'd come visit you."

*

The room was now filled with strange, winged creatures. Some were small, only inches in height, flitting about the room, inspecting Harry's belongings. Others were as tall as Harry, and were chasing each other around the room. Beside Sheridan knelt a hideous creature with wrinkled skin, a very swollen head and bright, black eyes.

"This house is filled with Aurors," Harry was saying, trying to concentrate on Sheridan instead of the flitting creatures that were now sorting through his underwear drawer and laughing incessantly.

"Yes," Sheridan replied, leaning comfortably against the bedpost. "We met them. Your werewolf friend put up quite an impressive fight."

Harry felt his heart drop into his stomach. Professor Lupin... He swallowed hard and tried to keep his voice from wavering. "As soon as they realize I'm gone..."

But he trailed off at the amused look on Sheridan's face.

"Do you know what this is?" she asked, gesturing to the creature at her feet.

Harry glanced at it, and then shook his head. He didn't like to admit his ignorance, but didn't see what he could gain by denying it.

"It's a Changeling of the Quiet Folk. Rowan!" she called, and a very short, bearded creature with coal-black skin and webbed feet waddled forwards. He had a very large, pointy green hat on his head and looked distinctly grouchy.

"Yes, Mistress?" Rowan said sulkily.

"Rowan, will you favour Harry with a demonstration?"

Rowan scowled. "Yes, Mistress..." he muttered. He then pulled out a long stick from inside his cloak. It was covered over with strange, intricate carvings in some language that Harry didn't recognize. Rowan moved forward and prodded the wrinkled, big-headed creature with the stick.

It happened slowly at first. The wrinkles began to recede, and the head began to shrink. And then the creature began to grow. At first Harry thought that it must have stood up, because soon it was almost as tall as Harry. The creature's hair, which had previously been short and grey, began to grow and turn black. It didn't grow well, but rather all over the place. Its eyes, once small and beetle-black, turned a brilliant shade of green. And before Harry could quite register the transformation, he was staring at himself, right down to the glasses and the lightening bolt scar.

*

"Draco..." Ginny whispered, hot tears stinging her eyes. "But-- but I thought..."

"No, you didn't," Draco said shortly. He was looking past her, refusing to meet her stare.

"Why?" she asked, blinking back her tears and trying to steady her voice. "If all you wanted was information, then why the big act? There has to be an easier way to spy."

Draco hesitated before answering, glancing for a moment at his father. "You're assuming the payoff is the point."

"How... How could you...?" Ginny heard herself ask, certain that she didn't want to hear the answer.

"What, you mean you're actually surprised? Come on, Weasley," he said, and Ginny thought the disdain in his voice would break her. "You couldn't really have thought I cared about you. I mean, sure, it was fun, but... everyone has their level."

Ginny felt the tears behind her eyes freeze, felt her heart harden in solid rage. She pursed her lips and clenched her fists, resisting the urge to smack him across the face. When she spoke, her voice was quiet and steady.

"Get out of my house, Malfoy. Now."

Lucius stepped forward. "Not yet, I think. We haven't yet got what we came for. Perhaps someone in the room will see fit to save the young Miss Weasley from the same fate as her brothers there." He smiled wickedly, gesturing at Fred and George's motionless bodies, and turned to Draco. "Draco, do the honours, won't you?"

Ginny glanced quickly from Lucius to Draco, who was looking at his father. Then, after a long moment, Draco swallowed, pulled out his wand, and pointed it at Ginny.

*

Sheridan regarded the Harry-Changeling. "Good likeness, don't you think, Harry?"

"Yes, Mistress," replied the Changeling. It even sounded like Harry, though it spoke in a nasty, sardonic tone of voice that sent a chill down Harry's spine.

"Don't worry about him, Harry," Sheridan said, this time looking at Harry rather than the Changeling. "He'll make himself right at home here, won't you Harry?"

The Changeling grinned wickedly, and Harry felt he might be sick.

"Oh, yes, Mistress." The Changeling walked toward Ron's bed and picked up a photograph of Hermione that stood on the bedside table. The Hermione in the picture shrieked furiously and chucked one of her textbooks at the Changeling (which, of course, had no effect) and then dashed out of the frame. The Changeling whistled and looked up at Harry. "Fiery, that one... Yes, I think I'll be quite comfortable here."

Harry felt a stab of panic. That thing would be living in the house with Hermione, and the Weasleys. It would be sleeping in the same room as Ron... And none of them would know. They would all just think it was him... Harry started forward, but the creatures holding him tightened their grip on his arms.

Sheridan laughed and gathered the few belongings of Harry's that her faery helpers had dropped on the bed for her into a small, blood-red bag and passed the package to Rowan.

"Rowan, see that this gets back to Headquarters, won't you?"

Rowan grumbled yet another 'yes Mistress' as he took the package and tucked it into his cloak.

Sheridan stepped forward and flicked a hand in Harry's direction. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, slowly, a hole began to appear in front of him. At first it looked merely as though a light had dimmed, leaving the corner in darkness. But then the dark grew, until there was a large, gaping doorway of blackness in the middle of the room.

"Come, Harry," she said. "It's time to go."

Harry looked warily at the yawning void in the middle of the room. He didn't like to think what Professor Moody would say if he knew Harry had simply walked into an unidentified hole in space with a dark creature at his back.

"My helpful Duende there," Sheridan said, gesturing to the faeries that still had a tight grip on his arms, "will be only to pleased to drag you through the door kicking and screaming. But I should so much prefer it if you walked through with a little dignity. You don't want to arrive in front of the Dark Lord on your knees, do you? I'm sure Lord Voldemort would enjoy that, but..."

Harry stared at her in shock. Even most dark creatures refused to speak Voldemort's name, and no one who was in Voldemort's service ever dared to say it. After this initial shock wore off though, he considered what she had said. There was some appeal to the idea that they would have to drag him away fighting, and he didn't like the idea of making their kidnapping him any easier for them. But to be delivered to Voldemort on his knees, to kneel before him while he laughed and mocked him... no, that he couldn't bear. He must face Voldemort standing.

"No," he replied. "I'll walk."

Sheridan smiled then, a more genuine smile than he'd yet seen from her. "We're a lot alike, Harry, you and I. Rowan, alert our...'friends' downstairs that we're finished here, won't you?"

Rowan scowled again and pulled out his stick once more. He waddled his way to the window, muttering something incoherent under his breath, and climbed up on the windowsill. He then banged his stick three times against the floor, and then jabbed it at the sky. There was a deafening crack and a shower of white sparks erupted from the end of it, illuminating the whole sky.

*

Ginny gazed at Draco as he raised his wand and pointed at her. She'd always had a hard time reading his expressions, but if she didn't know better, she'd say he looked conflicted. He glanced at his father, and then back at her, clutching his wand tightly. What was he waiting for? Perhaps he was hoping that she would beg him for mercy, cry and plead with him. But she wouldn't beg him for anything, not ever. Ginny gritted her teeth furiously and steeled herself for whatever painful fate Draco had in mind.

"Draco!" Lucius said sharply. "Obey my order this minute."

Draco looked once more from Ginny, to his father, and back to Ginny. Then he took a breath, and opened his mouth.

"No!" Ron yelled, lurching forward on his broken leg at Draco. Two Death Eaters moved at once and grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him backward and bending his broken leg further back. Ron gasped in pain, but didn't stop fighting to get to Ginny.

"Ron, stop, you're hurting yourself!" Hermione cried, struggling against her own restraints.

"No!" he yelled back. "Malfoy, you slimy git, if you so much as look at my sister, I'll--"

But he was interrupted by an ear-splitting crack, as if the sky were breaking apart. The room lit up with a near-blinding light, and through the window Ginny could see a shower of brilliant white sparks.

*

Sheridan stepped in front of the black void and gestured Harry forward. The faeries that held him released their grip and stepped back. Harry hesitated a moment, then moved forward.

"Rowan," Sheridan said, turning to look at him, "once you've got your Changeling settled here, send everyone back to the Grove. Report back with me when you return to Headquarters."

Rowan glowered (Harry thought perhaps his eyebrows were knit in a permanent scowl,) and nodded another acknowledgement.

"And if the Dark Lord's servants give you any trouble upon your arrival," Sheridan grinned, "you know how to handle it."

For the first time, Rowan smiled, his lips curling into an eerie, ugly smirk. "Oh yes, Mistress."

Sheridan nodded and then looked back at Harry. "Come, Harry. We'll go together, shall we?" she said, holding out her hand to him.

Harry looked back at his room, his gaze lingering on a photograph of Ron, Hermione, and himself. All three of them were staring out at him, waving goodbye. They would come for him, Harry thought. Hermione would see through the Changeling; they would figure out what had happened, she would tell Dumbledore, and they would come and find him.

He looked back at Sheridan. She was dangerous; Harry knew this. She was in league with Voldemort, after all, wasn't she? Somehow, though, he wasn't afraid. He reached out and took her hand, and stepped toward the black void, steeling himself for what might be on the other side.

*

It happened instantly. All the Death Eaters let go of their captives and began disapparating with loud, echoing cracks. Soon only Lucius and Draco remained. Draco was still standing in front of Ginny, his wand pointed directly at her chest.

"Come, Draco," Lucius said, clamping a hand tightly on Draco's shoulder. "We must go now. You will get your chance to curse your traitorous little tart. Later."

Ginny gritted her teeth together, hurt and humiliation flooding over her. Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision of him.

'I still feel him sometimes. Dumbledore told me that Tom's memory was destroyed when the Diary was, but that's not true. I can almost hear him, talking to me in my sleep... It's like he's a part of me now. I don't think he'll ever leave... I'm sorry, Draco. You didn't come here to listen to me cry.'

'It's okay. It's quite flattering actually, that you're comfortable enough to cry in front of me. Most people are too afraid to bare themselves like that. It means you trust me.'

He leaned over her and trailed light kisses from her eyes, down her cheeks. Then he covered her mouth with his own, and she could taste her tears on his lips. 'You can trust me, Ginny...'

No. No, she would not cry in front of him. He didn't deserve that.

"Get out," Ginny said, her voice quiet and dangerous. And still he didn't move. "You know I'd rather take a bath in bubotuber pus than agree with your father, Malfoy," Ginny said. "But if you don't get out of my house, so help me God--"

"Draco--" Lucius interrupted, tightening his grip on Draco's shoulder.

Draco lowered his wand and glared at Ginny. "We'll finish this later," said Draco, pulling up his hood. Then both he and his father disapparated with a resounding crack.

The room felt muffled. Upon the disappearance of their captors, Ginny's mother and father had run straight to Fred and George and were leaning over them. Her mother was crying and whispering 'thank God, thank God.' Hermione had rushed to her own mother's side, Bill was helping Ron, and Charlie was busy checking on the Aurors in the corner. But Ginny was oblivious to all of it. On the floor where Draco had been standing, Ginny saw her wand. He must have dropped it when he disapparated. As she bent down and closed her trembling fingers around it, she felt as though whatever strength had been holding her up had disappeared with him, and she nearly collapsed as the full weight of Draco's betrayal came crashing down on her.

"I don't understand," Ginny's father was saying. "If they came here to discover the contents of the Prophesy, why didn't they ask Harry?"

And for a moment, all thoughts of Draco fled from Ginny's mind. Harry... Her father was right. Lucius's interrogation, Mrs Granger's torture, Draco's betrayal... If they were really after the Prophesy, why had they asked Ron and Hermione? Why didn't they drag Harry down and make him tell them? Last year they had come up with a brilliant strategy to lure in Harry and recover the Prophesy. Tonight's events had been so illogical, so poorly executed in comparison. Unless...

"Hermione," Ginny said, her mind racing. "Why isn't Harry here?"

Hermione looked up from examining her mother, tears in her eyes. "Wh- what?"

"Well everyone else is down here, why isn't Harry?" Ginny fought against the panic that was rising inside her as all the pieces of the puzzle came together. "Dad's right, none of this makes sense. If they really had wanted the Prophesy, there are much cleverer ways of getting it."

Hermione's brow knitted in confusion. "That's true..."

"And tonight, when we woke up, we thought we heard someone yell. Someone who wasn't your mum."

Hermione hesitated a moment, then her hand flew to her mouth. "It-- it sounded like--"

"Harry," Ginny finished, whirling around as she said it and tearing up the stairs to Harry's room. He heart was pounding against her ribs. No, her mind screamed. She had been so stupid! She had trusted Draco and led him straight to Order headquarters. She had confided in him, given her heart to him. If it was only her heart to be broken by her naiveté, then perhaps she could bear it. But if something had happened to Harry because of her...

She nearly broke down Harry's door as she thundered through it, Hermione hot on her heels.

And there, in the center of the room, stood Harry, uninjured and smiling.

"Harry!" Hermione cried, throwing herself into his arms. "Oh, Harry, we were so worried!"

Ginny thought she might collapse under the weight of her relief. But... she had been so sure. She looked him over, searching for some sign. He looked different somehow, though she couldn't put her finger on exactly what was wrong. "Harry," she said questioningly. "Harry, are you okay?"

Harry, still holding on to a weeping Hermione, looked up at her and grinned, and Ginny felt a shiver run down her spine.

"Of course, Ginny. I'm just fine."

References:

1) "When all else fails, a total unwillingness to look facts in the face will see us through." - Blackadder