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Author: Kathryn Story: Lost Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-DH Status: Completed Reviews: 23 Words: 61,881
Disclaimer: All the characters you recognise belong to JK Rowling and I'm just borrowing them. The others and the plot are mine for my sins. In this chapter there are also three paragraphs that are directly lifted from Goblet of Fire and Half-Blood Prince respectively, I did not write these, nor do I own them, that belongs to the great JKR. Author Notes: I am sorry about the delay in getting this chapter out. A lot of things have happened between the updates of this and chapter five, which meant I did not have the time to write. Harry left the tent and ran through a maze of the camp, coming across several obstacles. Breaking out into a sprint, he knew he didn't have time to waste, especially when she was capable of disappearing. With each step, his movements became swifter, more frantic, as his heart throbbed and his sides ached in pain. Pausing for a few seconds, he took a couple of quick shallow breaths to massage his side, the pain slowly subsiding. He was positive that he must have pulled or strained a muscle but right now that didn't matter. He would deal with any minor pains once he had found her. Frankie was not going to leave him like that, he wouldn't let her. She was hiding something and he needed to know what it was. She had the key to his lost memories, but for some reason, she had just disappeared before explaining what was going on. He was so close to unlocking the secrets of his past, the knowledge of the present, and the destiny of his future. But why was he being deprived of that chance? He was not willing to listen to excuses today; he wanted the truth and wanted it now. Hadn't Frankie always offered to help him? She had spent countless hours scanning through piles of articles with him, looking through endless lists, with just the smallest bit of hope that any piece of information could help reveal his identity. Yet today, he couldn't understand why. Why had she left him, confused and alone, when she had finally uncovered his identity; why couldn't she tell who he really was, where his true identity lay? After a few more heaving breaths, Harry summoned up the last ounce of strength he had left as he darted through the camp. He hardly cared that people were in the way as he weaved his way through the melange of obstacles, ignoring any calls that followed after him. His eyes kept scanning the grounds for anyone who could help him find her. In theory, it shouldn't have been a hard task. Frankie was both well known and well liked by most of the camp, a swarm of people usually around her. Yet he doubted that she was joking around with friends today. Frankie looked like she was heading off alone, and if she wanted to escape, she was normally very good at it. She rarely told anyone what was going on in her mind until all the wheels were in motion, leaving him and others lost in the dust. He paused for a second. He had to think about this logically if he was going to find her. In a camp this size, he was never going to find her if he ran around like a headless chicken. It could a few hours if he was really lucky. And the last thing he needed was a fruitless search. He didn't have hours, he had waited long enough. Letting out a long breath, he looked into the nearest tent. A small smile formed on his lips as an idea hit him. It was so simple; he was amazed that it had taken him so long to think of it but then he had hardly been thinking straight for the last hour. If he made his way into one of the offices, gaining a bit of privacy from the mob, he could easily cast a simple locator spell. The pace of his movements slowed down but his strides became much more purposeful. He had a new focus and a path toward it: becoming one more step closer to his identity. A bolt of blonde shot out in front of him from one of the tents. This was the break that he had been waiting for as his eyes followed the Irish witch. "Neve!" he called after one of Frankie's friends. "Neve!" "Hey, Jack," she called back. Neve had paused but her manner suggested more; her bright blue eyes were frantically scanning the camp, darting in every direction, searching for something or someone. Her hands fidgeted restively and a nervous tension had filled the air. Something was not quite right here and he was going to get to the bottom of it. "Are you okay?" he asked, making his way over to her and taking her hand. She looked much shaken. "What's happened?" "Nothing," Neve's voice shook, the dreamlike quality he was so used to hearing disappearing. The tension in her body contravened her words yet she chose to repeat them, "It's nothing, really." The recent happenings in the camp were far from nothing. "Are you sure?" he questioned, refusing to back down, focusing on the quaking woman before him and forgetting his hunt. "You can tell me." "Well, it's just… well, I have to leave this camp and make sure she's okay," Neve explained in cryptic tones, unwilling to give much away. In this camp one had to be sure not to reveal much information, until you knew the other person's position on the matter. "Make sure that she doesn't do anything stupid, especially after everything that's happened today." Harry looked at her, more than a little confused. "In case who doesn't do anything stupid?" "Ginny Weasley. Jerome's been badgering her all day about that damn article," she revealed, letting her guard down as she looked directly into his eyes, blue meeting green and interlocking. "A couple of minutes ago, she finally lost her temper and walked out." She broke eyes contact with him as she briefly looked towards the floor. "And I guess I don't want her to be alone out there," she said in a motherly tone. "You don't have to be a genius to see that she needs to have a friend. Don't get me wrong, I admire her spirit, passion and bravery." A small smile graced her lips. "I'm sure as hell I couldn't do everything that she has. Very few could but she needs a friend and there must be a reason why she turned up here instead of spending time with her friends and family. As brave as she wants to be, she needs someone to watch her back." "That's something we all need from time to time." Harry agreed with her. "I just think I should do something to help if I can." He smiled back at her. "Just make sure you take care of yourself out there," he told her softly. "Keep your hand on your wand and your eyes out for Death Eaters." Harry reached over and took her hand, giving it a small squeeze as she returned his smile. "I worked in the Sudan for three years before coming back home to help out over here," Neve explained, her hand moving to her pocket, where her wand lay. She carefully wrapped her fingers around the eight and three quarter inches of oak, the feel of the wood against her skin providing her a bit of reassurance. "I should be fine. I know when something doesn't feel right and I'll be sure to avoid it." "Good to know," he said, his smile growing. No matter what Neve had said earlier, she had as much bravery as anyone else. "You're one of the few people here that everyone trusts and values." "Bless you," she replied in barely a whisper, her face turning a rich crimson colour. "Now, I would love you to keep flattering me, but I really should get going while I still have a chance of finding her." Harry watched for a second as she turned her back on him before his mind jolted back to the reason he had stopped her. "Neve, one last thing." She looked over her shoulder. "Anything," she said, her soft voice floating towards him. "Have you seen Frankie?" he asked, the sense of urgency returning to his voice. "It's pretty important I find her." "I'm sorry," she started, looking straight at him, "but I haven't seen her since breakfast." Her voice picked up a little as she studied his face. "I'll let her know that you're looking for her if I see her." "Thanks." She squeezed his hand as she placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "You're welcome." Harry paused to watch her leave. He could see her blonde hair weaving amongst the crowd before she disappeared. Without knowing why, he looked from the gate of the camp towards the sky. This camp brought out the best in so many people. Those that had fought during the war were without doubt heroes. However, there was something extra special about the people who continued to try to make the world a better place, long after the final battle had been fought and the war was won. They could have easily turned their backs on all this and gone back to their normal lives like so many others had done. However, they had sacrificed their happiness and put their lives on the line for people that they didn't even know. It wasn't about making the easy decisions, but the right ones. "If the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort." Harry was jolted out of his thoughts as Jerome's body emerged from the masses and banged into him. His hands flew out in front of him to steady himself and prevent him from falling over. "HEY!" Harry called after him, but the dark figure ignored him as he ran straight for the gate. Harry had made his mind up. He wasn't going to fade into the background again and let everyone suppress him. Just like he had not let Neve give him an easy answer and was going to find Frankie, he would not let that former Slytherin belittle him. A profound sense of uneasiness had filled the air, an ominous feeling settling over the area. The familiar notion of dread filled his body. It was such a familiar feeling, he couldn't remember a time when he hadn't felt this way at some point. A sense of duty and a need to help replaced his dread. It was not like the camp to be this quiet and for people to disappear into thin air. Something may not feel right but that did not mean that he should be running back to his tent. Reacting on instinct, he forgot to connect with his brain. He spent the next couple of hours fruitlessly looking for Frankie. He was sure that the distraction that lay with Neve was not helping things. The blonde, brunette and most importantly the redhead, kept floating in his mind, leaving his search unfocused and unproductive. With all of this, he struggled to understand how he couldn't find his friend. Frankie had always been there when he needed her, so where was she now? If he ever needed to find her quickly, it was today. Distractions had left him far from alert and his frustrations mounted as the search went on. It was almost as if she had donned an invisibility cloak or cast a disillusionment charm over herself. No one had seen her, heard from her, or spoken to her. It seemed like she had vanished. He looked to the sky hopelessly, at a loss for what to do next. Trepidation rang through his body as he saw it. No matter how many times he saw the Dark Mark, he would never get used to it. The smoky green head with the serpent tongue would haunt him to the day he died. A flash of memory jolted his mind. "There it was, hanging in the sky above the school: the blazing green skull with a serpent tongue, the mark Death Eaters left behind whenever they had entered a building… whenever they had murdered… And Harry, too, looked ahead at the skull, and fear swelled inside him like a venomous bubble, compressing his lungs, driving all other discomfort from his mind…" It appeared so often at the camp that everyone had learned to ignore it with the effect that the residents were almost desensitized. He knew, though, that he could never get used to it. A very small part of him hoped that he'd die before he got used to seeing the mark. How anyone could get used to Lord Voldemort's symbol and everything it represented was beyond him. The mark symbolised all the worst aspects of the wizarding world. Things like that should not be forgotten, but he wished that they could be left in the past. There were lessons to be learnt from that mark, but by no means, should it have become a part of everyday life. Harry forgot his muddled pursuit of Frankie as he darted instinctively towards the gate. Sometimes they brought the injured and the dead back into the camp. Other times they took search parties out from there but either way, you had to be at those gates in order to offer any form of help. As the camp gates came into view, he saw her. Frankie stood with Ginny Weasley and Jerome, seeming to be having a very animated conversation with them. He glanced between the trio standing before him and the Dark Mark that, by a trick of the dying light, seemed to be hovering over them. Harry's heart pounded hard against his chest; he felt like it was going to break through his ribcage. Trepidation had taken over his body within seconds as the rumours reached him. Dropping everything, he had arrived in Hogsmeade as quickly as he could. Looking at the sky, his worst fears confirmed. Rumours of an attack on the village had reached headquarters less than ten minutes ago. As soon as he had seen Aberforth Dumbledore's head appear in the fire, he knew something wasn't right. The barman of the Hogs Head did not get involved in matters of the Order unless something was urgent. He preferred to give the impression to the world that he was not involved in the fight. However, it was merely a façade he had constructed in order to receive clandestine information from the more interesting sources. Harry had hardly heard the old wizard as he had reported the attack. The planned attack on Hogsmeade had been initiated to create chaos, so that the Death Eaters would be left free to attack Hogwarts. Currently the only thing keeping them out the school was the small contingent of teachers and older students who had immediately come to the defence of the school. Instead of digesting all this information, his mind focused in on one person in particular. It was obvious from the start that she had left to join the fight. She wouldn't be the woman he loved if she hadn't. After so many arguments about her return to school and being left on the sidelines, he'd eat his hat if she wasn't there. After the passion she felt for this cause, she was not going to leave any chance to battle against Lord Voldemort and his followers. She was not the type to stay at school while everyone else fought in the battles. She'd be there, fighting for the Order, till death if she had to. While the frantic discussion had started on what to do next, Harry had joined the lead party to provide help, temporarily abandoning his hunt. He couldn't sit by and discuss tactics, while all this was happening. He was made for action and that was what was called for right now. Moments later, he had found himself in Hogsmeade, at the opposite end of the action. Running through the village, his wand in the air, he fired out spells at the retreating backs of the Death Eaters, who appeared to be admitting defeat and fleeing. The Dark Mark was hanging in the sky, hovering over a scene of pure chaos. Flames flew into the sky from the countless boarded up shops that had been set alight. Bodies were scattered along the ground. It looked like a scene from the Somme. There was a huge loss of life over little gain but he supposed he had to be grateful that the Death Eaters had fled and left the victims alone. "Harry," A round faced teenager was running up to him, almost out of breath. "Thank Merlin you're here." "What happened, Neville?" "Just come," he said, urgently. "There's no time to explain." Harry's eyes fell to the ground. While many of the victims, in fact the majority of them, wore Death Eaters' robes and had donned white masks, there were some faces that he recognised from their side too. His heart let out a sob as he saw the friends and allies that lay before him. There were those who he only knew by sight. Hermione's favourite teacher, Professor Vector, had a broken wand crushed in her hand. Ambrosius Flume, the owner of Honeydukes sweetshop, had fallen on the doorstep to his shop, protecting the secret passageway to the school. There were others; people of his own age, who had yet to or had just passed their seventeenth birthdays; people that he had spent years with at school, laughed with in class. They had all lost their lives defending what was right. Hannah Abbott lay in front of the boarded up post office. She was a picture of innocence, her blonde hair in pigtails and clothed in her school uniform. The dirt on her hands and on the edges of her robes gave the impression that she had run straight out of an Herbology lesson. She looked just like the girl he had watched being sorted seven years ago, except for one thing - the look of shock in her brown eyes. "Harry," Neville said again, his voice shaking as he spoke, obviously struggling to control his emotions. "This way." "What about…" "She got hit. She's barely breathing…. she needs you." Harry didn't need anymore encouragement than that. There was something very wrong about stepping over dead bodies without a care for them but he knew he could do nothing for them now and Neville would not be leading him through this chaos if it was not important. So instead, he held his resolve and walked straight on. One day Lord Voldemort would pay for what he had done, but right now, his foremost concern was clearing up this destruction. He felt like his heart had stopped as he turned the corner. A woman with blonde hair was bent over a woman with the most amazing, vibrant red hair, the one person that he cared most about in the world, the person he had thought he had protected from all this. Slowly he walked forward. It was almost as if time had stopped as looked at her. His heart had increased in speed, counteracting his slow movements. Dumbfounded, he could hardly move. His whole life had been turned upside down in a matter of minutes and he pushed all other thoughts out of his mind to focus on her health. How had she even got caught up in this mess anyway? They had broken up so that he could stop her from getting hurt. She was supposed to be safe inside the castle. Yet, inside he knew that a part of him would have been disappointed to find her sitting in Gryffindor Tower doing her Defence Against the Dark Arts homework, while the battle raged outside the walls of Hogwarts. In all honesty he knew that he would not have been able to stop her fighting today. Just like he wasn't able to stop her joining the battle last year or the year before, no matter what actions he had taken by the lake. Death Eaters had attacked Hogsmeade with the aim of going onto Hogwarts, killing anyone who got in their way. "Luna?" he said, his eyes fixed on the motionless body lying before him. "What happened?" "Well, she ran out of school as soon as she heard." A sense of pride had filled his body and he had to forcibly stop a small smile from forming on his lips. She really was something else. "Yeah, she'd do that." "She was amazing, battling Death Eaters two at a time. She really helped us to stop them from getting through to the school until the Order arrived and took over," Neville continued, picking up from where his friend had left off. "But then rumour got around that she was out here," Neville paused and looked down to the floor at his friend. "They knew about the pair of you and she became an instant target." "We tried to convince her to go back to school." Luna explained, her voice shaking, containing none of the dreamlike qualities that he was used to. It was as if she was struggling to retell the story. Tears filled her eyes as she took her friend's hand. "But she was having none of it." "She continued fighting," Neville said, briefly letting a guilty smile form on his lips before continuing with his story. "That was until she was taken out. Hit in the back by a curse from Avery." "What kind of curse?" "I don't know." Neville said hopelessly. "But I know it wasn't the Avada Kedavra; I didn't see any green lights." "And she's still breathing," Luna intercepted, "not a strong breath, but it's there." "Madam Pomfrey will know what to do." Neville said. "We just need to get her up there." "I know," Harry muttered as he went over towards his girlfriend. Her body looked so small, lying on the floor. So delicate and just like so many others, not at all ready for the horrors of war. His hand fell into hers as he slowly turned her body, thankful that there was not a single mark on it. "HARRY, HARRY!" He jerked out of his memories as bright brown eyes bore straight into his, almost in disbelief. The sorrow from a few weeks before seemed to have disappeared, replaced with shock and confusion. He saw a range of emotions splay across her face, her eyes reflecting in a pool of pain and joy. Her soft hands had shot to her mouth, her widened eyes giving away her surprise and disbelief. Slowly her hand fell down her face, brushing her vibrant red hair that had fallen out of her plait and was resting again her cheek as she continued to look at him. Likewise, he couldn't keep his eyes off her. His wishes of meeting her were finally coming true. There was so much he wanted to know, so much he wanted to hear her say, so many questions he needed to ask. But seeing her face to face for the first time, he struggled to grasp any sense of the situation unveiling before him. Silence had captured the whole area under its folds. All the noise from just moments before had evaporated into the air. There was no need for sounds or words. Slowly he walked closer to her, ignoring both Frankie and Jerome as his focus stayed solely on Ginny. His chest swelled with emotion. There was something different about this meeting. Something special, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt someone who had already been through so much. There was an overwhelming desire to swoop her up into his arms and forget everything else. He felt connected to her but something was holding him back, stopping him. He hardly knew her; it would be improper to go and collect her in her arms. He couldn't give her a false hope that came from her initial call. There were so many Harry's in the world, and if he were special enough to be that close to such a remarkable woman, surely he would have remembered now. Yet despite all the longing, there was nothing extra, no recognition of her. He had to be honest with himself and her. "Harry," she said in a whisper that carried through the air. Tears were filling her bright brown eyes as she let out a deep breath. "Oh, Harry. I knew you were alive. I kept saying it and no one believed me. It's really you, isn't it?" He wanted to say something. He knew he should say something. She needed some kind of response but he was not sure what he could tell her. He couldn't be her Harry. The odds on it were over a million to one and if he was her Harry, then how could he forget a face like that? How could he forget her eyes, the freckles that were scattered over her nose, the sweet smile of recognition, and her vibrant red hair? If he really were Harry Potter, he'd remember. "Jack… sorry, Harry," Frankie ended the new silence that had filled the air. Despite struggling to adapt to the situation, she was trying her best to bring some sense to the situation and he had never been so thankful to her. "This is…" "Frankie." Jerome hissed, glaring at her. "You're not right to give him inflated ideas." As he spoke, both girls made a reach for their wands. "Let him work things out." "Would you shut up for a second?" Ginny said automatically, pulling her wand out of her pocket. "You've been a real shit all day, stirring things up that should be left alone, and I can't be dealing with you now." "I'm just trying to help." Jerome looked desperate; it was as though he had dropped all pretences and his real personality was starting to emerge. His eyes had narrowed to Frankie and he spoke in a snake-like fashion. "And we've got other things to do. What about the Dark Mark? What about Neve?" Ginny's eyes narrowed as she glared at him. "What about Neve? What do you know?" "Nothing!" he replied defensively. "It's just the mark is hanging and she's missing." "Sooner or later, I'm going to figure out what exactly is going on with you," Ginny said before turning her attention back to Harry. "Whatever!" Venom dripped from his voice as he held his hand up in the air in mock protest, his guard dropping for the first time in weeks. "All I'm saying is people should work things out for themselves, using the brains that they were given instead of being spoon fed like babies. And that is very much the case with our friend, Jack." He crossed his arms as he glowered at her. "So you, Francesca, need to be quiet, right now." "Oh shut it," Frankie muttered as she glared at Jerome, watching him storm off. "Harry, this is Ginny Weasley." "I know," Harry replied to his friend before he turned his attention to Ginny, stepping closer to her. He found his voice glowing with pride as he spoke. "Everyone knows that, you were amazing in the war. How could I not know you?" You could not have failed to know who Ginny Weasley was if you had lived in the wizarding world for the last year. "Harry, you still don't get it. This is Ginny." Frankie continued as if he hadn't interrupted her. "Your Ginny." "My Ginny?" Ginny walked forward and reached for his hand before pulling away. Instead, her arms hugged her stomach in a protective hold. For some reason, she couldn't quite bring herself to touch him. Her eyes glistened with tears; he could see every emotion filling those large brown eyes. He was so close that he could even see the flashes of yellow in her amber eyes, giving them extra depth. She turned away from him, unable to bear the pain of not being recognised. "Ginny?" he questioned, as he made an attempt to reach for her before thinking better of it. He could see the need and longing in her eyes; eyes that were so full of energy and emotion that it was almost like looking straight into her heart. Despite the strong stance she held through her eyes, he could tell that she was struggling to cope with everything that had just happened in the last couple of minutes. Finally she let her brown eyes meet his green ones, "You know who I am right? Who I really am?" Her voice shook and he could feel his hand trembling. "You know who we are?"
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