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Author: Kathryn Story: Lost Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-DH Status: Completed Reviews: 20 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. Her ideal vision of making a difference in the lives of the survivors had long since disappeared. As the days faded into weeks, the reality of the situation that she had placed herself in was becoming clear. Life was never easy; her past experiences had taught her that much, and her time at this camp was going to be no exception. Solutions to long and lasting problems did not appear overnight. Despite knowing all this, Ginny was exhausted. Waking up in the early hours of the morning after another restless and troubled night filled with visions of her past, she set about her work after little to no relaxation. Her dreams and nightmares about Harry were increasing at an alarming rate ever since she had arrived, as if a dam had broken and all her memories of him were suddenly flooding her mind. But she was sure that the sudden influx of dreams was caused by nothing more than sheer exhaustion. Her efforts weren't making much of a difference, despite the long hours she was working. Tedious paperwork got in the way of any decisions; she had to fill out at least three pages of forms before she could even serve lunch to a dozen people. But even when the paperwork was finally done, there lay more hardships; the food portions that were given out were, due to severe rationing, nothing less than dismal. They may not have had much at The Burrow while growing up, but they never went without a meal and there was always plenty of food to go around, something that could not be said for the camp. It was a simple fact yet a harsh reality; there just wasn't enough food to go around. Donations would arrive from the wizarding world in the form of toys, all thanks to the media's extensive coverage of the orphaned children at the camp. This left them without any of the essential items such as food and clothing, but instead, countless tents filled with toys. The size of the camp was hardly being reduced either. In the last month, only two people had been reunited with their families, whilst hundreds of thousands of people still had nowhere to go. Fights amongst the camp refugees were frequent - almost daily - as were disagreements among the volunteers. Everyone was looking for solutions and answers to questions that simply could not be answered. It was going to take years, maybe even decades, to sort out the chaos within the camp, and there were times where it was hard to see if their work was anything other than public relations. However, she had found an escape in the least likely of all places. Wandering out of the camp gates, she would walk to the very spot where she had lost Harry. She would sit there for hours, replaying memories of her past, before she was forced back to reality. In was in those brief, glorious moments where she saw every line on his face and heard every note in his voice. Almost as if he was in the camp with her, helping her through all this. He was her rock, even if he wasn't there physically. "Ginny," Jerome's voice broke through her thoughts and she jolted upright, remembering that she was in one of the storage tents with Jerome. "Would you stop thinking about that article and pay attention to what you doing? You've put at least three cups of rice into that bag." She paused, a cup of rice still in her hand, and stared at him. They had spent the last two and a half hours dividing up food into individual portions to be handed out later. It was easy to let her mind wander as she mechanically poured three cups of rice into each bag, hardly the most challenging task. She really wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone either; all they wanted was to get a reaction from her and she refused to let them see it. In reality, she couldn't care less about that damned article and she didn't give a rat's arse about what that bloody Skeeter cow wrote either. It was hardly surprising that Harper was criticising her actions. The only thing that had hurt was the fact that someone had leaked details about her, details that were exaggerated and close to lies. Deep down, she had been expecting, but the reality of the situation did not make it any easier and there was no denying that she was angry. Ginny refused to meet his eyes as she tied the ends of the bag in a knot and picked up another. Jerome had been pestering her all afternoon, wanting to know her thoughts about the Daily Prophet article, but she refused to provide any details, knowing full well that anything she said could be used against her. She didn't want Rita Skeeter to succeed by providing her more material for her gossip column. "C'mon, Ginny," he said, as he grabbed her arm, trying to get her to focus her attention on him. "It wasn't even that bad!" "Excuse me?" she questioned in a controlled tone, pulling her arm out of his grasp, her hand itching to pull out her wand. "Well, the comments were fairly honest," he told her, as he pulled the sleeves of his jumper further down his left arm, "and I'm struggling to see the problem in getting more press coverage." Offering her a smile, he shrugged his shoulders slightly. "Don't they always say that there's no such thing as bad publicity?" Her brow creased as she took a couple of deep controlled breath, keeping her temper in check. "And you honestly believe that?" "Yes, I do." His voice had a slightly pompous tone to it. "And, I also think that people have a right to know what is going on in the world." "Since when have you had your private life released for the whole world to read?" she snapped at him, failing to control her temper and struggling to resist the urge to hex him. "Moments of your life that you don't want to think about yourself, let alone have others read about. Your biggest regrets and mistakes in black and white for the world to see and judge," she paused and looked him directly in the eyes. "How is that a good thing?" "Ginny, you're the tragic heroine. You're the person everyone wants to read about. You've had a fantastic life full of remarkable acts and had close relations with almost all the heroes of the war. You were Harry Potter's girlfriend, for Merlin's sake," he told her, not attempting to keep his voice down, his eyes sparkling with greed. He was close to getting the prize he had been eagerly waiting for all afternoon. "You can't blame people for wanting to read about it all," he said, pausing for effect as several heads turned to look at them. It had been what he had wanted all along; to draw attention to himself. "So, isn't it your duty to share those details? You're as much public property as Harry Potter was." "Harry was never public property and neither am I!" she spat, her hand placed firmly around the eight and a half inches of unicorn hair and hazel wood. "We are people in our own right." "You're people in the public eye," he pressed, a grin forming on his lips, "I can't help but feel that information should be passed on." She studied his face for a second. "You know more about this than you're telling me," she paused, as she got to her feet, trying to decipher the intent behind his words. "What did you mean by 'it's your duty'?" Jerome got to his own feet, towering over her as he seemed to try to intimidate her by his size. "As one of the prominent figures in this country and someone in a position of power, secrets should not be hidden." He spoke in a strong carrying voice. "You should let people know these things about you." "So you're saying that if our positions were reversed, you couldn't care less about your private life being revealed?" her voice rising for the first time. "Not at all," he said confidently, his grin growing and eyes sparkling with excitement. "I'd be honoured." Her hand twitched towards her back pocket and her wand. This guy could be a real smug git at times and a complete utter plonker at others; but at the same time, she was sure he did not have the intelligence to leak information about her. He was just pretty face that was exploited for his golden boy looks, nothing more. She was saving her hexes (and the disciplinary action that would follow) for one person in particular. Ginny gritted her teeth as she thought of the woman who she knew for sure had to be behind the press scandal. Ginny looked down at her watch before looking back up at him, "Shift's over, see you later, Jerome." Ginny threw the empty cup right into his face with the power and accuracy she had developed from being a Chaser. An impish grin emerged on heris face, this was a battle that she never lost. She had always found that arguing with an angry Quidditch player was never a good idea. She escaped the tent before she could say or do anything more. She didn't want to face Coughlan's wrath over an act of rash impatience against his golden boy. Turning her back on him, she strode over to the door. Biting her bottom lip, desperately trying to keep her temper in check, she flung the door open. There were at least a dozen people that had stopped their work, no doubt egged on by the Daily Prophet and Jerome's actions. "Where are you going?" his angry voice followed after her. "Out for a walk," she replied quickly without turning around. "GINNY," Neve's dreamlike voice brought her to a halt and made her turn round. It always had a slightly unnatural feel to it when she raised it, which instantly brought her words to the attention to anyone nearby. "Wait up, I'll come with you. It's not safe out there, more like a Death Eater's playground." "No, it's okay, I want to be alone," she explained softly. "Trust me, I can take care of myself." Neve glared at Jerome for a split second before she turned back to Ginny. "What about the Death Eaters?" "I can handle them." Ginny said honestly. Voldemort had been destroyed but his Death Eaters were still on the loose. Just like his fall last time, many of Tom Riddle's cronies had once again escaped Azkaban and were still roaming the streets, unwilling to give up on their leader. She supposed this belief came from the same core belief that they had; Harry was still alive and he was out there somewhere. In fact, the ridiculous Rita Skeeter article had taken up the whole front page, moving the news about the Death Eater attack to page three. The Dark Mark had been found hovering over a wizarding village just outside Middlesborough. Homes had been destroyed; people had been massacred. Voldemort's followers had been attempting to find his body and any clue that led to the cause of his downfall, in the hope of resurrecting him again. All the prominent Death Eaters no longer walked on the streets. They had either fallen in battle or currently inhabited cells in Azkaban. She was more than confident that she could handle the remaining ones. In fact, she almost wanted a chance to release some of her pent up tensions by taking it out on some Voldemort wannabe. Ginny gave a quick wave to her friend before leaving the tent. She weaved through the camp and straight through the gate without stopping. Ignoring the rules about camp security, she walked onwards without turning around, whilst shrugging off the feeling that someone was following her. It was probably a volunteer just calling her back to camp, reminding her of camp safety issues. But she didn't care about that right now; she needed to be alone and no one was going to stop her. The shade of the trees directed her route as she kept walking until she reached a signpost. Looking up briefly at it, she turned left and down towards a road that led to an old manor house. She wrapped her arms around her as she walked closer to the building, a chill filling her insides. Her arms providing a protection from the both the cool air on the outside and the sense of dread that she was fighting against, inside herself. Finally, she reached the point where it had all happened; the destination of her frequent trips outside the camp. Resting her back against a tall rock, she shifted her gaze towards the alley. Her hand moved to her silver necklace, the diamond encrusted pendant sparkling in the autumn light as it hung on the delicate white gold chain. Sixteen-year-old Ginny Weasley closed her eyes. She had been waiting for this moment for weeks. No, she had been waiting for this moment for months, ever since she had discovered the mysteries behind Voldemort's immortality and the search for the missing Horcruxes. Finally, she was ready and prepared to join them. She had finally learnt enough to be useful and not a hindrance in the quest. Harry had finally given in after her injury, much to her delight. She had argued that she was going to hunt down the remaining Horcruxes with or without his permission, even if it meant setting out on her own. After hearing the bluntness in her voice, he knew she wasn't bluffing and rather than letting her go out by herself, he decided the best way to keep her safe was to bring her with them. However, he had placed one condition on her; she had to learn and be confident in her Apparition skills before she could join them. Today was the first time after weeks of lessons when she had felt completely confident in her abilities. At the crack of dawn, she had thrown a couple of things into a bag from her trunk. Without a word to anyone, she had snuck out of her Hogwarts dormitory. She had done it so many times that she had perfected the art of sneaking through the school; she had yet to be caught. Quickly, she had made her way to the third floor, and found the statue of the humpbacked witch. Excitement coursed through her body as the secret passageway opened, and she ran down the tunnel, before emerging into Honeydukes. As the early morning sunshine hit her eyes through the glass panes of the front window, she felt as though she was lifted from the mundane and placed in a world far more exciting and adventurous. Finally, she was going to play a part in this war, instead of sitting on the sidelines and watching the people she loved suffer. She was finally going to get a chance to fight for what she believed in. Spinning on her feet, she concentrated solely on her desired destination. Within seconds, the empty boarded-up Hogsmeade shops had disappeared and she found herself in a small wizarding village. A smile graced her lips as she realised that she had reached the new headquarters, Godric's Hollow. A tremble filled her insides as she walked past a small graveyard that was filled with stark reminders of the horrors of war. It was not a big village by any attempt of the imagination, scattered with a few houses. It was a place where people could disappear, and hide from not only Muggles, but also, other wizards as well. She paused, gazing at the small house where she had stopped. For the first time, she admitted to herself that she was slightly nervous. There was no turning back now; she was finally in this fight and nothing was going to alter that. The door swung open. A wide smile met her eyes as he almost ran towards her. Whatever he had said in the past and whatever he may say in the future, she knew the truth right now; he was happy to have her here by his side, as she had wanted to be all along. "So," he said, his smile growing as he placed his arms around her waist, "the lessons went well." "Yeah," she replied, as she moved her hand into his, "I'd have that pass in the bag, if I didn't have to wait til August to take it." She grinned at him. "There's no leaving eyebrows behind for this Weasley." Harry let out a small laugh, a laugh so warm that it instantly eased all the earlier tension that she was feeling. "There was never any doubt with you." Ginny smiled back at him as she looked into his eyes. "I had excellent motivation to learn fast." Giving his hand a small encouraging squeeze, she looked past him at the house. "Was this place your parents'?" she asked gently. "Yeah, it's been rebuilt of course after Voldemort destroyed it. Lupin says that it's the mirror image of what used to be there, right down to the pots and pans. It's amazing what a bit of magic can achieve." He paused as a lump filled his throat. "It's just a shame everything can't be brought back that easily." Harryhe said with a small shrug as if he was attempting to shrug off the past, "Besides, it feels better as a base camp than Grimmauld Place, and after a little bit of powerful magic, we managed to cast the Fidelius Charm over it. There was a trust aspect to the initial casting that we managed to alter so that everyone who knows about this place is safer. It's kinda complicated, I'm sure Hermione will bore you with the details later." Harry explained as he started to lead her up the steps. "Anyway, after adding our own bits of magical protection, it's about as safe a place as we could have wanted. The Burrow isn't practical anymore, especially after you joined us." Her smile grew into a mischievous grin. As far as her mother was concerned, she was still lying in her bed at Hogwarts. It would be another couple of hours, if she was lucky, before Molly Weasley discovered that her little girl had disappeared through one of the secret passageways to Hogsmeade, leaving the safe confines of the castle to join the fight with the rest of her children. Ginny had intended to send Hedwig to her, explaining everything, including her actions and the reasons why she felt this was important but she wasn't going to waste anymore time; there were more important things to attend to. Whilst she knew her mum would be angry about her choices and the way she had chosen to carry them out, Ginny also knew that if she had gone back to The Burrow, she would have been stuck in an argument that could have lasted for hours, maybe even several days. "How's the Horcrux hunt going?" she asked, trying not to feel guilty about lying to her mother. Harry pushed open the door to the house. "We'll talk about that later," he explained, as he led her up the stairs, "I want to show you something first." She sent him a confused look as they walked past two bedrooms. "Where are we going?" "Shh," he placed his finger on her lips, "it's a surprise." "Harry," she started, in an attempt to argue with his words. "Ginny," he overrode her, "please wait, it's something I have to do." He pushed open a door and led her into a small bedroom. The room was dominated by a double bed, as if the previous occupants had need for little else. There was a scattering of mismatched furniture which hinted that the room had belonged to people who had not had the time or money to decorate the room, spending their time focusing on other, more pressing things. Above a small dressing table, light poured into the room and lit it up. Slowly he let her hand go, their fingers brushing against each other as he walked over to a table. She watched as he carefully picked up a small necklace off the table and examined it. Walking back to her, a slight smile appeared on his lips. "Turn 'round," he said softly. "What's going on?" she asked in a confused tone. "Shh," he said again as he stood behind her. Carefully, he lifted up her hair and held it in one hand as he gently placed the white gold necklace around her neck. As he released her hair and let it fall softly down her back, his arms fell to her waist. They stood in stillness, Harry holding onto her tightly as if she would vanish into thin air if he let go. "It was my mum's, my dad had given it her." Instantly, she broke away from the embrace, and her hands shot to her neck. "Harry, I can't wear this." "Yes, you can," he said firmly, as he caught her hands in his and lowered them. "I want you to wear it. They went through this together, and I want to do that with you. I love you, Ginny. We're not playing at things here, and I want to show the world how I feel about you." He smiled at her, giving her hand a small squeeze. "With you and your wonderful talents by my side, this is going to be over soon, and I'm looking forward to that day. I promise you, Gin, before the end of the year, we'll see the end of him. This necklace is to remind you of our hopes, our aspirations, and most importantly, our love for one another." Whether she stayed there for five minutes or five hours, she didn't know. All she knew was that the autumn sun had been slowly fading away and her sole focus was on reliving the short moment she had shared with Harry; the one moment where every problem in the world seemed solvable and the future shined brightly. She didn't want to leave. This place was her only connection to Harry and leaving now would mean to turn her back on him again and disappear. A shiver ran down her spine and she accepted defeat, turning to leave. It was close to dusk and the air had acquired a chilly feeling. A silence had fallen on the whole area; even the birds had stopped their musical chirping. Something wasn't right and if there was one thing she still trusted, it was her instincts. She had to get out of here fast and get to somewhere safe. Enough battles had taught her that this was the safest thing to do, if she valued her life. Sprinting through the gates, she came to an abrupt halt. Her eyes scanned the ground, trying to find the route back to the camp, her uneasiness increasing as each moment passed. Her eyes located the Dark Mark hanging in the air, in the opposite direction from where she had just come. "GINNY!" Her attention shifted to the direction of the voice; she saw a woman weaving through the tents, eagerly coming towards her. This was the last person she had expected or wanted to see. Francesca McGovern was far too secretive and walked around the camp as if she owned it. Frankie had been waiting for her to fall so she could laugh at her. "Frankie!" she said in a stunned tone. "What do you want?" "To talk," Frankie replied, looking at her directly in the eyes. "So, you can fill the pages of the Daily Prophet about me?" she scoffed, turning her back on her fellow volunteer. "I really don't think so." Frankie's hand landed on her shoulder. "You think that was me?" Ginny maintained eye contact with her, replying coolly, "You're the only person here I know who hates me." "There's no denying that." Frankie replied, without pausing for breath, "but if I was you and had half a brain, I would not be thinking about who hates me. Instead, I'd be looking for someone who has a motive to harm you. Believe me, I'm not going to benefit from talking to the press, but other people in this camp will and they want to destroy you, Ginny." "And you wanted to waste my time talking about this?" Ginny felt her hand crawling towards her wand. "Because I really don't have much time for all this rubbish, and someone should be on their way to see Coughlan about that." Frankie's eyes followed her gesture to the Mark. "He'll already know. It's not the first time this has happened and it won't be the last." Her voice had a resigned quality to it. "But this is something different," she said forcibly, before pausing, "it's about…" Frankie's sentence stopped dead; it was almost as if she was struggling to choose which words to use. She reached out and took Ginny's hands, opening her mouth again to speak, but no words came out. "Would you just get on with it?" Ginny was getting impatient. Ever since she had arrived at the camp, Frankie had been a constant obstacle preventing her from completing her work and now she was stopping her from going to Coughlan, especially as the Dark Mark hovered over them. "You think Harry Potter's still alive, right?" her voice shaking as she spoke. "Yes," she said in a firm but apprehensive tone, not sure if she wanted to get into a debate in the middle of a street with the only lady of whom she was suspicious. She hadn't discussed any matters concerning Harry with anyone besides her family, Luna, and Neville. "People don't just disappear into thin air. Especially those who have so much talent and so many things to live for." "Yet, he's never tried to find you," she spoke in a soft yet nervous voice, one that Ginny hadn't heard her use before. "You were the love of his life, the person he'd risk anything for, and he's made no attempt to come looking for you." "Do you have a point?" "Yes," she snapped back quickly in the confident tone she normally used. Ginny's hand reached for her wand again. "Well, can you get to it then, within the next couple of minutes? Otherwise, you can just bugger off." "I think…" "GINNY! FRANKIE!" Jerome's frantic voice called from behind them. "What?!" both girls said instantly, in slightly impatient tones. He brought his hands to rest against his head and panted. Struggling for breath, he attempted to speak whilst looking like he had just run a marathon. "What is it?" Frankie asked as she went over towards him. "You need to get help," he said, looking straight past Frankie at Ginny. "What's going on?" Ginny asked, her body growing tense. She had known that something was going to happen. After years of planning against Tom Riddle and his followers with the Order, she had developed a sixth sense for these kinds of things. Something was wrong; she knew it. Her eyes fell back on the Dark Mark that was still hanging in the air and coldness filled her insides. Her hand wrapped around her necklace as her heart pounded against her ribcage. This was not over yet - far from it.
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