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Author: Kari Lynn Story: Shades of Grey: In Spite of Everything Rating: Young Teens Setting: Pre-HBP Status: WIP Reviews: 0 Words: 29,750
Ginny lay down on her bed the moment she got into her dormitory and stayed there, eyes closed. She had a throbbing headache, and she was getting shaky, no doubt from low blood sugar. She lay there for hours, not getting up for Charms, not getting up for dinner even. At around seven, the time the Great Hall usually started clearing out, the door opened revealing Jenna. "Ginny…" She started to say something, but stopped. She had seen Ginny lying there, and by keeping her eyes closed and breathing steady, Ginny had managed to convince Jenna that she was asleep. Upon the sight of Ginny's 'sleeping' figure, Jenna sighed and walked out to do her homework. *** Ginny blinked in the sunlight. "Oh, someone turn off the sun." She groaned, rolling over. As she rolled over, she also fell off her bed. "Ow!" she exclaimed; her already aching head had hit the dresser as she fell the few feet to the ground. She had fallen asleep in her robes last night; pretending to be asleep had actually lulled her to sleep. Sitting up, Ginny looked around to see her roommates still asleep. A glance at the clock told Ginny it was 6:30, which meant that they would be up soon anyway. She got up and made her way to the bathroom to take a shower before breakfast, for Ginny knew she needed one to wake herself up. This morning she didn't even bother going to the hall; she was too tired to be bothered by being hungry. So, instead she went out to the lake again. It provided some condolence to think that even when the world was breaking apart, being shattered before their very eyes, the lake was still there, gentle waves lapping the shore evenly. Even if the Ministry was gone, destroyed by the hate that had encompassed the world, the giant squid would still be there, lulling in the sunlight. Ginny leaned back against the tree's rough bark, breathing in the sunlight and the spring-like freshness that technically shouldn't have been there for another four months. As she let the sunlight wash over her, filling her up in a way that no food ever could, Ginny suddenly had an urge to get up and run around. Instead, she consoled herself with climbing the tree she had been leaning against only moments ago. As she sat there, in the upper branches, concealed with a beauty only nature could bring, she looked out over the lake at the rising sun. Ginny suddenly saw the impossible; it was her Mum and Dad, standing over the water. Blinking, thinking that it must be a trick of light or something, Ginny watched as they glided over to the water's edge. They started talking, fear encircling her so much that she wouldn't have been able to reply even if she had wanted to. Ginny listened, absorbing the sound of their voices as a sponge absorbs water. She listened as her dead parents talked to her. They were kind of scaring Ginny, to be truthful. It was the faces of Molly and Arthur Weasley, yes, but even though they were smiling, a glowing radiance glowing from them as seen when someone is truly happy, they didn't sound happy. They sounded worried. As Ginny listened more to their words, what had only seemed like voices before became clear. They were scared. Scared for Ginny, scared for Ron, scared for Fred and George, scared for the whole family. Scared for Hogwarts, for London, for the world. Almost as fast as they had come, they disappeared. And Ginny was filled with an understanding that hadn't been there before. My parents didn't die to leave us in sorrow; they died heroes, they died saving us from the evil so we could live life to it's fullest, without the heavy weight of worry that they had had to deal with during their generation. They hadn't saved us by doing what they had done so we could live life, fighting for life. They had saved us for happiness. For life. For living life to its fullest. It was then, in that tree, on that bright, sunny, early November morning that Ginny made a decision. Remembering what she had once decided, on a day so recent, yet so far in the past, a decision that she had forgotten in the unhappiness, Ginny re-decided that she would do whatever it took to remove this evil from the earth. She would live up to her parents, and exceed them, as well as exceed everyone else. I will show them Virginia Weasley was not one you want to mess with when it comes down to something I want to do. Ginny more or less sleepwalked through the rest of the day, her mind elsewhere. More specifically, her mind was in the alternate universe of plan making. Ginny was determined to do something, and she was determined to succeed. She went to lunch and ate normally, or rather, ate ravenously as she had as good as missed every meal over the past day and a half. After lunch, she headed straight to the library. A few things had to be researched if she were to execute her plan without any interruptions in a possibly smoothly flowing process. That night she met Jenna in the common room. Before she had a chance to say anything, Ginny interrupted her. "Wow! It's surprising how homework just creeps up on you like that isn't it? We'd better get to work if we're going to finish both those essays!" Ginny was referring to the History of Magic essay as well as the Herbology one. "Uh, ok then…" She could tell Jenna had wanted to talk to her about something (three guesses what) and was glad that she had sidetracked her. Ginny was in the process of figuring everything out herself first. She doubted she'd ever tell Jenna everything about the past few weeks. True, they were best friends, and had been for a long time, but there were things that couldn't be told, even to a best friend. "The Three Main Goblin-Vampire Battles of the Fourteenth Century and How They Changed History," Ginny titled her paper. "And those would be…?" "Weren't you listening in class today!?" Jenna exclaimed (as if she had). "NO!" "Well you should have been! I'm not telling you anything!" With that she began scribbling ferociously on her own parchment. "Why not? We're best friends! It's your job to tell me when I don't know!" "Well, see, that's where we reach the problem, 'cause I wasn't listening either." "Well what are you writing then?" "You really want to know?" Jenna taunted. "YES!" Ginny exclaimed so exuberantly that she almost fell off the comfy in-front-of-the-fire-chair she had been sitting on. "Ok." Jenna reached over the table between them, and unrolled the paper, showing her a long strip of about three feet of parchment all covered in the words 'I love Aaron', not a centimeter showing. And that was when the two girls burst out laughing. Four hours later, homework done, Ginny lay back on the couch, her mind busily running over her plans of action. She would have to do it soon, but how soon was to be debated. She'd need some time, so preferably a Friday, because she might be out late, and school would be hard without much sleep. She didn't want anyone finding out what she was doing. She also had to try and find out when she could do it. Even if she wasn't sure of plans, she had to be sure of this. If her timing faltered, she might as well throw her plans out the window. Ginny closed her eyes; hopefully there would be an opening Friday in which she could get her plan executed. Oh well, she thought. I'll just have to watch their behavior very carefully; maybe if I'm observant enough I can pick something up. And with that she fell asleep, right there, laying across the couch in the common room. Wednesday and Thursday passed rather quickly. Ginny spent the time enjoying herself, keeping her eyes open for a sign, any sign, that her plan could be put into action. But she wasn't really expecting to have to for another week or two, so she didn't plan much more, leaving the emergency situations for later. Thursday night came, and Ginny was lying in bed, waiting for sleep to come and claim her. It was just about midnight, when she finally fell asleep… "Wormtail, come here," a hard cold voice echoed across the dark clearing. "Y-y-y-yes master," the man, whoever he was, was stuttering. "Extend your arm." The rapidly paling man rolled up his right sleeve and moved so that his upper forearm, which was revealing the shape Ginny had only heard about, the Dark Mark. The cloaked person, undoubtedly Voldemort, touched it, pressing his index finger to the grotesque branding. Instantly, Ginny heard several popping noises, people Apparating to the clearing. And then she woke up… She had to do it now; she couldn't wait until tomorrow, Friday; there was no other way she could be sure that she would get there. Her adventurous side, the side that had made her try out for Quidditch, the side that she treasured, the side that was brave, told her to go right now, just throw on some robes and go. But something told her no; something told her she hadn't planned enough. What if she was seen? What if she found herself in a place with no trees to hide behind? She hadn't worked out the details. She didn't want to go, she wasn't ready. Who knew if she would get a dream like that again; who knew if she'd have another chance. Ginny stumbled across the dark room, grabbed her cloak and broom, and set off. Through the common room, out the portrait hole, and down the hall she walked; she was going to do it. After only one day of real planning, and no emergency situation planning done, she was going out to change the world. Opening the huge doors that led onto the grounds, Ginny mounted her broom, kicked off into the crisp night air, and flew into the deep night. Ginny had absolutely no clue where she was headed, but the dream had looked like somewhere in the Forbidden Forest, so she was planning on just flying around above it for awhile. Ten minutes passed, then twenty, and just as her watch turned to '2:34 AM, go back to bed,' she heard the sound of someone screaming. The sudden volume was so unexpected; Ginny nearly fell off her broom… again. She managed to regain her balance as she looked down at the massive sea of black cloaks. She was still over the Forbidden Forest, but there was a clearing. In the center of the group was one man, elevated slightly above the rest. There was, perhaps, a ten-foot radius around him before the mass of people began. Directly in front of the leader, Voldemort, there was another person writhing on the ground. The effects of the Cruciatus Curse, she thought grimly. Turning her broom around she gradually descended to tree level and carefully maneuvered around the treetops, bushes, and just general bramble so as to make as little noise as possible. "You have greatly disappointed me, letting him slip through our grasp like that!" A deep, dark, cold voice rang through Ginny's ears, scaring her to shreds. But it was too late to change her mind. There was no return, no turning back; she had come this far. She could finish the job. Creeping through the underbrush, she tried to remain hidden as long as possible. Thinking through what she was planning to do, Ginny left her broom where she had landed and managed to reach the edge of the woods, only a rotting log and a few weeds separating her from the Death Eaters and their leader. Raising her wand, she took a deep breath. But just before she said the spell she realized something. The screaming had stopped, as had the cold voice. There wasn't a sound in earshot; her ears, which were only moments ago ringing in screams, now were ringing in silence. Not lowering her wand, Ginny let out a breath, the only sound in the darkness. Until she heard it, it all happened so fast. A twig snapped, and all of a sudden the scene sprung into a new life. Like a phoenix, the scene that was once so lively had died, and a new one was reborn from the ashes. A dark cloak passed before her eyes, and something covered her head. Smelling something, some poison or something, all Ginny saw was a flash of the sky. A sliver of moon poked through after yesterday's new moon was all she saw before the youngest Weasley was thrust into unconsciousness. A younger Ginny, an eleven-year-old Ginny was standing in front of a wall, water flooding the corridor, soaking her feet up to her ankles. A can of red paint hung from her arm as she slowly wrote the threatening message on the wall… Ginny awoke suddenly. She didn't know how long she had been unconscious, nor where she was, but she did know she didn't like it there. Since she had arrived here in this cell-like dungeon she had been having nightmares of her first year at Hogwarts as well as the past few weeks. There was a constant cold feeling, and the drafty cell didn't help. There was at least an inch of frost on the barred window that existed in the upper corner of her cold prison, but never had she had the strength to go look out of it. She only had the strength to lie on the cold floor. Looking around for the first time, she noticed a straw pallet on an incredibly rusty metal bed below the window. Half-crawling over to it she reached it and winced as the creaking spring sunk, echoing in the empty halls beyond the thick wooden door. Looking at the door (Ginny guessed it must be a foot thick) she noticed a small, wormy-looking apple, and a moldy piece of bread, along with a cup of extremely dirty water. Rolling off the mattress, she did her best to retrace her steps and get back to the door. Finally she made it and reached out to take a drink of the water. As it passed by her parched lips just the smell made Ginny want to throw up, but she controlled herself and forced it down. No matter how horrible it tasted, it was water. And it would keep her alive. After she ate Ginny returned to her 'bed' and tried to sleep, but sleep wouldn't come. With horrible memories flooding her mind, and being unable to properly grasp any consciously acceptable thought, Ginny Weasley drifted into an uneasy sleep. *** Ginny's breath had caught in her throat, and the intense cold of dementors washed over her, sinking deep into her head, freezing it thoroughly. She choked on air while shivering, trying to clear her head enough for a Patronus before the memories caught up with her, until she realized she had no wand with which to complete the spell. She was lying there on the cold, sickly straw pallet. Her body was lifeless and cold, but she was alive. Oh, she was very much alive in her mind. She was alive and wanting to kill, alive, yet ready to give up. Her moldy bread lay uneaten on the floor, being nibbled by the well-fed mice and rats that resided among the cells. They came every day now, following the guards from cell to cell, ready to devour the endless amounts of unwanted bread and sour water. Even if Ginny had wanted to eat, at this point she didn't have the strength to get up or even crawl across the grime to get the meager sustenance. Somewhere in the back of her mind she wondered about the others back home, but every time such a thought approached the ghastly dark shapes would descend upon her door, and yet again misery would overcome any other thought. Each and every time the dreadful creatures would come. Could it be that she felt… Happiness? Was it possible to so much as ponder happiness in such a place? And it wasn't. And so she gave up. *** Day after day passed this way, or what she figured was day after day anyway. She never did have the strength to look out the window. With the sun not able to penetrate the frost it probably wouldn't have made a difference anyway, but she may find some way to figure how long she had been there. She suspected they didn't bring food every day, as they had only brought it five times and she seemed to be there for months. Sleeping whenever she could and making her food last as long as possible so as to pass time more quickly, Ginny gradually forgot about her life beyond the walls. She remembered her first day in the cell, she remembered the immense cold feeling the dementors generated when they brought her the food every once in awhile, she remembered their scabbed hands slowly emerging from their cloak sleeves, she remembered her first glimpse of the hallway. As she had watched the creatures bring her food not too long after she had awoken, she saw another door. When they had been leaving, as she woke from that uneasy sleep that was constantly haunting her, she had looked out the door when it opened and she saw a hallway, which, unlike her cell, was surprisingly clean. In fact, it brought back her first fleeting memories of Hogwarts; the stone flagged hallways reminded her of the torch-lit ones leading to Snape's dungeons. Across the hall she had one glimpse, a fleeting glimpse before the door had been shut, binding her into the living heck that she was imprisoned in. Across the hall was another door. And that door gave her hope. As the dementors opened that door, there was another figure huddled on the floor inside of it, and she recognized that figure. That figure had filled her thoughts for the next who-knew-how-many days. She knew that person, she knew that figure, but whose it was she couldn't figure out. It was strangely familiar, but not enough so for her to realize the person it belonged to. She hadn't seen this person recently; she had seen them a few times at number 12, Grimmauld Place, and plenty of times at Hogwarts, but now she just couldn't tell who it was. The mysterious figure was as foreign to her as Percy had been over the past year and a half. And she had no hope of memory to help out, for her memory wasn't any more helpful than Gilderoy Lockhart's would have been, and for those who don't know, that's saying a lot. Thoughts rumbling across the unexplored plains of unknown and uncrossed territory, Ginny tried to focus, but found she couldn't as every time she tried to reach a conclusion, or grasp something, the dementors' effects would reach their worst and thrust her into unconsciousness, dreaming about her first year at Hogwarts, her nightmares full of the images of herself writing messages on the walls in red paint or strangling the school chickens. Of course, she knew that this all had a happy ending, with Harry coming to save her. But those memories were snatched away from her as she reached them, instead showing her what could have happened. Showing her images of her body, lying lifeless on the hard, cold, damp, stone floor of the chamber, Harry's dead body lying next to her own. She saw her mother weeping over her; she even saw what would have been her funeral. Despite all attempts to convince herself that it wasn't real, that wasn't what happened, she couldn't help but start wailing in despair. She was snatched from her horrifying memories, or nightmares, by the seemingly deafening noise of a creaking door, opened by the creatures of her nightmare's origin, literally. Opening her eyes just enough to see them set her food on the floor and exit she sighed. There was no hope for escape; she would remain in this horrid prison for the rest of her life, never again seeing daylight. Living a half-life. She might survive to be twenty, if she was lucky, but as far as she knew, her life ended at fifteen. Or as much that mattered anyways. Never again would she see a sunset over the lake, never again would she fly, wind blowing her hair all over the place. Never again would she watch Harry and Ron play chess, ignoring all homework that had to be done, just for the pure pleasure of it all. That was when she realized that this was the first time since her arrival that she had been able to think clearly. Always her thoughts were accompanied by a slight hum, like slightly out of tune radio, that annoying fuzz in the background, all of a sudden gaining force as she began to think about something amusing or happy. She could think clearly. Ginny was overcome with a feeling of such intense joy that she wanted to shout out loud. Instead, she consoled herself with simply looking out the window that she had avoided for the past… well, since she got there. Peering through the bars she saw the reason why she could think clearly. There was a huge, stone stadium draped in green and silver, much like the great hall would have been if Slytherin won the house cup. In the center, on a raised platform stood the man of all wrongdoing, Voldemort. Surrounding him, filling the stands, were hundreds of black-cloaked Death Daters. Many, many more then had been at that first meeting. One entire side of the stands was filled with dementors. Apparently they were having some grand meeting where they all gathered together, for there wasn't a single empty space. Above the gathering shone the full moon, informing her that she had been in Azkaban for about three weeks, maybe more, maybe less, Astronomy wasn't ever her best subject. And even if it had been, it certainly wasn't now. Turning her attention back to the get-together Ginny realized that she couldn't hear what Voldemort was saying, therefore not seeing the point in watching any more. Stepping off her bed, which she had been standing on in order to see out the window, she decided to eat. Now, although she could think clearly, and was more aware of her surroundings, she was also more aware of her hunger and her thirst. That was when she realized – they hadn't given her the murky brown water that usually accompanied the meal. As if in answer to her thoughts, the door opened again, just slightly, and a dementor was there, setting a cup of murky brown water on the floor. Ginny was able to keep thinking clearly as there was only one of them, as well as the fact that in her time there had lessened their affect on her. Without making it a conscious decision, not thinking about the consequences, Ginny lunged forward just before the door shut. She was in the hallway, and the dementor hadn't noticed. Ginny shrunk back into the shadows waiting for the dementor to leave the hall. Not that this was necessary, for she knew dementors were blind, well, not blind exactly, but she knew they had no eyes. Her heart was skipping beats as the dementor turned the corner. Sighing in relief she couldn't help but think, Great, I finally manage to escape, and I have no clue where I am, or where to go, and I don't have a wand. Not seeing any other choice Ginny crept slowly after the dementor. She had to get to wherever they kept the wands of the imprisoned peoples. More likely they just snapped them, but she could still use the pieces, or steal a Death Eater's wand. As she rounded the corner she was already feeling faint from lack of food or water and found herself in another corridor, exactly like the one she had just exited, and the dementor was nowhere in sight. Stumbling down the hallways, Ginny paid no attention to where she was going. All she was thinking was that she would want to get as far to one side as possible, that way she might at least find a window or something that she could go out through. The one in her cell was no good; not only was it several stories up, it looked out towards the center of the island, and she couldn't get to it anyway, she was now locked out of her cell. Looking straight down the current hall, Ginny saw a dream come true: at the end of the hall was an archway, several stairs leading down from it, and a balcony. Hobbling much faster than before, Ginny made her way to the archway. There turned out to be only a few stairs, but it was hope. Leaning heavily on the rail, Ginny reached the bottom of them and went out onto the small area following. As she did this, she realized that this didn't lead to a window, it led to a balcony. Her heart nearly stopped as she saw she was now standing directly above the meeting, looking out at every single Death Eater, every dementor, and every evil beast, all in plain view. In the center of them all, stood the leader, Tom Marvolo Riddle, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, You-Know-Who, Voldemort. He was still talking, lecturing his followers. Now she could hear what he was saying, but chose not to listen. It wouldn't help her at all; she needed to find a way out. This would have worked, she could have climbed or jumped off the balcony, it wasn't too high. And there was ivy leaves climbing the sides of the building that would work for climbing perfectly. The only problem was it was an island, and Ginny wasn't the best swimmer in the world. She needed a wand, and there was only one place where she could get one. Taking a deep breath, bracing herself for what came next, Ginny found strength that she didn't know she had as she swung her leg over the stone barrier around the edge of the balcony. Edging around it carefully, she reached the wall without being seen. Trying to make as little noise as possible, Ginny was relieved that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named wasn't facing her. Creeping down the ivy Ginny put her strength from Quidditch to good use holding herself steady. The last thing she needed was to fall; it would be like signing her own death warrant. Ginny half-wanted to jump the last few feet, but it was an unnecessary risk. The Death Eaters would surely notice, as they were less then ten feet away. She forced herself to climb the last few feet, and although it wasn't a hard feat, she breathed a sigh of relief when her feet were firmly on the ground again. Ginny was now out of the prison and would have been free if it weren't for three things. She still didn't have a wand, she still had no clue where she was (did anyone?), and the Death Eaters were terrifyingly close. She really saw only one choice: follow the wall. Setting out along the wall, it didn't take long to find what she was looking for. A heavy, metal gate that was at least ten feet high. Through it she saw the cold, hard sea crashing menacingly against the rock island on which the prison was situated. Before Ginny looked for locks, though, she saw something: in the middle of the meeting, right near the leader, were piles and piles of wands. Undoubtedly the Death Eaters' own. Smart precaution, that way if any of his ranks was a spy, they couldn't betray him and help them take over Azkaban or something. But then she noticed something herself by now she was behind the rows of dementors, black cloak upon black cloak, hovering slightly above the ground. Or so it looked, the cloaks didn't quite reach the ground, and no feet were visible beneath them, so Ginny simply assumed that they were hovering. But what she noticed was a bit of brown amidst all the black; one of the dementors had a wand in its pocked. What a dementor would be doing with a wand she didn't know, but she knew it was a wand, she could tell. And from how it looked, it was the only chance she'd have at getting one. Not wanting to waste her chance, Ginny crept up behind them, under the bleacher-like stands, approaching the dementor cautiously. But just as she reached him, a commotion aroused. At first Ginny thought she had been heard, but what had happened was just as bad. The meeting was over, and people were leaving, she could, and most likely would, be discovered. Ginny was so scared out of her wits that she couldn't think of what to do. Her instincts from sneaking around Hogwarts took over; she shrunk back into the shadows, waiting for the Death Eaters, dementors, and other evil beings to pass. Finally they were gone, or so she thought. Ginny sighed and stepped out, then the cold voice echoed through the shadows again. "No! You must find her! I don't care if she's only fifteen, no, now! Every guard should be looking! She can't get off the island, there's only so far she can go!" Ginny paled, even more so then she had so far, and tried to get back before they rounded the corner. But she wasn't quick enough. Around the corner came a dementor, the dementor with the wand to be specific. It glided over to her at a remarkably fast pace. Ginny braced herself. She couldn't run; not only was there nobody to run to, but it was going faster then she could already. Instead she just braced herself for the worst and decided she would simply do her best to keep it away, and her mouth shut. As it approached, Ginny remained unaffected, all the time around dementors over the past few weeks had reduced the effect of only one. With some effort, all she felt was slightly cold when they were around her. The black cloak swept barely above the ground as it reached its prey, Ginny. Trying to do everything and anything that might keep it away from her, Ginny began to kick, punch, flail her arms, anything that might keep it away from her. But alas, there was only so much she could do without a wand. There was no doubt that the rest of the dementors would be arriving any second. She felt increasingly cold as the dementor knocked her over, leaned over her. She could hardly breath as the disgusting smell of rotting eggs filled the air. Clenching her jaws tightly together (Ginny was determined to keep her soul) she tried not to gasp in surprise as the dementor lowered its hood to reveal what might have somewhat resembled a human face, if a human face were scabbed over and eye-less and nose-less, with no hair, actually. It was basically a feature-less head with a dark, round hole where the mouth might have been. That was when she knew it was happening, cold swept throughout her body and she felt a piercing pain near her mouth. Not daring to open her eyes, she felt the inner cold running through her bloodstream, searing pain near her heart. Just as she was sure her life was over…
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