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Author: Jai-kun Story: Neither Can Live Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-DH Status: Completed Reviews: 10 Words: 23,072
Harry was quiet on the way up the stairs. He barely muttered goodnight as Hermione ducked into Ginny's room, and was dimly aware of Ron guiding him up the stairs to the room they were sharing. It wasn't until he was in the bedroom, looking blearily at the Cannon's poster, that he realized that Ron was quite still behind him and not making moves to get ready for bed. "We need to talk." Harry turned, seeing Ron lean against the door with his arms crossed. His expression reminded him of Molly at her angriest. His eyes narrowed, and his nostrils were flared and white as he breathed through his nose. The only familiar sight was the reddening of his ears, and that was never a good sign, either. "Ron, please, can't you just drop it--" He'd barely got the words out when Ron pointed at him. "No. I can't drop it. We need to talk, Harry." Harry's temper, which had been very good for the last year, started to rise again, "I don't want to talk, Ron!" "Then I need to talk, and you need to listen!" Ron's voice lowered, and he bit out, reluctantly, as if he were angry to have to say it, "You owe me that much." Harry sat heavily on the bed and put his hands over his eyes, digging the heels of his palms into them. "All right," he said, exhausted suddenly. "All right, we'll talk. I'll listen, anyway." Ron had obviously been gearing up for quite the battle, because he stopped short, his finger pointed at Harry and his lip set in a sneer. "Oh," he blinked and turned away, glaring at the wall, "OK." There was a long pause, or perhaps time was stretching out like it seemed to for the entirety of his life. Harry was not about to ask Ron if he actually meant to go through with this talk. If Ron had decided to forego it, or that it was a bad idea, it was just as well. But Ron's voice sounded, and it was thick, and angry, but subdued, for Ron. "Ginny's been..." Harry winced inwardly, trying to steel himself against the ending of that sentence, "miserable." Harry looked up, his anger rising again in his stomach and chest. "You honestly think I have been dancing for joy this whole time?!" It would have been a bellow, but he managed to remember that people were settling down to sleep. Instead of raging at him, Ron simply raised a hand. "You said you would listen," he snapped. Harry, unused to this tactic from Ron, fell silent, glaring. "She's off her food. She doesn't... she isn't..." Ron's words sounded like they were grating out of him, but he spoke on. "Remember what Tonks was like all last year? Ginny's starting to be like that. Today was the first time I saw her so much as run a brush through her hair." Harry's heart sank. He bit his lip, despair washing over him. Ron reached over, tapped his shoulder, and Harry looked over at the second bed, seeing Ron had sat across from him and was looking him in the eye. Pleading warred with anger in the redhead's expression. "You need to undo whatever you did at the funeral, Harry. Please." Harry opened his mouth, looked away, and whispered, "I… can't." Ron exploded, as loudly as Harry had just a moment ago. "Why the bloody well not?!" Harry struggled for his words, until finally he could only look up helplessly. "She'll get h-" "Don't start that," snarled Ron, standing up to his full height now. "Don't start that 'she might get hurt' rubbish! She could get hurt anyway! No one's safe! But she shouldn't be miserable if she doesn't have to b--" Harry cut across him louder than before. "She could get killed, all right? I don't want her to die because of me!" "It's not your fau-" "IT BLOODY WELL IS MY FAULT!" He did not try to be quiet now and actually grabbed Ron's shirt in a desperate attempt to make him understand. "He killed Sirius to get to me! He had Dumbledore killed because he was protecting me! Cedric bloody died because he was in the way of his plan to GET ME!" He heard, with horror, his voice break and felt the sting of tears at the back of his eyes. "I can't bear it, Ron!" His voice sounded pleading to his own ears, and he hated it, but nothing else, it seemed, was getting through. "I couldn't bear it if he took away someone else because he wanted me!" The door creaked open, and Fred and George stood there. Their faces were pale, and Harry and Ron separated hastily. "We were going to come up here to have a little chat with Harrykins about..." George started, but Fred didn't seem to be able to finish, as he was swallowing rapidly. "Well... things." Harry moaned and turned away when Fred finally spoke. "You might want to keep it down before you wake the whole house..." With that, the door closed, and both Harry and Ron looked at each other in momentary surprise. After a stunned moment, it seemed as if Ron would start in again, but instead he sat on his bed, heavily. "We need sleep," he rasped. "If you promise that you'll be here in the morning, so we can leave, together, then I'll drop this, for now." "Fine," Harry sighed. He'd never get away alone now, and he was too exhausted to try it, at any rate. All he wanted was sleep and to put the whole night behind him. It wasn't to be. His dreams were filled with Ginny, her smile and laugh when she caught him looking at her. Of her deep brown eyes as he gazed into them. Ginny furious, standing up to him for being a prat, or standing up for him when someone else called him a prat. He dreamed of Ginny's eyes, fierce and blazing as she raced above the pitch and again as she raced toward him after they'd won the Cup. Ginny's red face as he bent to kiss her. Ginny, her face similarly red, but her eyes oddly wet as she hissed angry accusations at Harry, then turned and stormed away, wobbling slightly, ears flaming now in embarrassment. Ginny. Ginny, for whom there was so much desire and pain mixed together that Harry could hardly bear to see her. He had to flee from it, he knew. There was too much danger in those eyes, that he would fail her and bring her to a place where she could get hurt or killed. It was too easy to want to pull her back to him, far too easy. As if responding to his desire to see something, anything but the face he wanted to stay with, his mind traveled as if down a long, dark tunnel with a dim light at the end. Down a hallway with multiple doors, dark and dim with odd, slithering shapes on the walls... He was weary. The death of his hated rival, the only one with the power to match his, should have made everything so much easier. Yet the protection over Potter still remained. Hogwarts was now more impenetrable than before, as if the old man's spirit somehow stood guard still. His encounter just that night, with protections around the school left him feeling diminished, forgetful. There was something important he needed to be doing, something that he couldn't concentrate on. He took his place and waited, and it seemed to be a long wait, an impatience he hadn't known for a long time seemed to course through his veins. That blasted warding spell! It was leaving him... "Thank you, my Lord," a voice spoke, and he turned his head toward the entry, scowling in annoyance. Lucius Malfoy, multiple failure, had asked to meet him. It was why he was in the Malfoy home to begin with. The wards had addled him worse than he'd realized. The blonde man looked bedraggled, pale and drawn. He bowed low, stiffly, kneeling slowly to his Lord and speaking to the floor. "My Lord, my Master... thank you for agreeing to see me." Rather that acknowledge the deference, Harry snarled. "You have failed me, Lucius. You are a bitter disappointment on more than one score. You know how I feel about failure." Lucius Malfoy trembled, and he did not look up, could not look up. "I... my Lord, I bring... a gift, a small repayment, the daughter of a ministry official." "And where is my 'gift', Lucius?" The Death Eater rose, turning to gesture toward the entrance, and two large men dragged a smaller person between them. The girl's entire head was covered in a sack, and her robes, once fine, were torn. She hung limply, her head bowed, her feet offering no support. Lucius smiled, hesitantly, up at Harry, but the smile faded. "So far, Lucius, I am not impressed. I have no need to manipulate the Ministry of Magic. They work against themselves willingly enough." Lucius took a step back. "My Lord..! The ministry, it... it seeks you still... her father... I... I had thought she could be... used." He swallowed nervously, pale eyes widening in mounting fear. "Whose daughter, Lucius?" He watched Malfoy's Adams apple bob, his eyes shift. He raised his wand. "I require an answer." Malfoy muttered something, unintelligible. Raising the wand further made him start. "Arthur Weasley, my Lord!" His voice quavered. Harry's eyes narrowed dangerously. "A reminder of yet another setback… You still seek to satisfy your own vendettas instead of doing what is required? I would have thought you had learned your lesson on that score, Lucius." "Potter! He... he has feelings for her!" Lucius' voice was high, terrified by now, and it caused a squirm of pleasure that was quickly gone at the thought of his once-trusted servant's incompetence. Still, if what Lucius' was saying was true... "My Lord," came a silken voice from the left. Harry turned his head and watched Snape step from his place in the shadows, eyes on the girl, a calculating look on his face. Harry remained silent as Snape bowed low. "There is information that Lucius hasn't told you. Perhaps he doesn't even know. A pity he isn't better informed." He watched Severus cast a disdainful look at Lucius, one returned with frightened loathing. "Potter and this girl parted ways after your victory over Dumbledore." "He lies!" Lucius was frantic. "My son was there, he saw it with his own eyes!" "Your son saw many things that turned out to be," Snape paused, seeming to be searching for the right words, "ineffective." He turned back to Harry, bowing his head in deference. "My Lord, the girl is nothing to Potter. If you tried to use her, he would likely think it was another trap, and not come. It would waste your valuable time." Harry scowled. "You presume much, Severus. That is unwise, as you have recently been reminded." Snape knelt, kissing the hem of Harry's robe. "Yes, my Lord, but, as always, my actions and suggestions are intended only for your benefit." "My good and faithful servant." The sarcasm was, likely, not lost on Severus, yet he continued to speak as if there was none. "However, if you are correct, there is no reason to waste my time." He raised his wand, but again Snape interrupted. "You asked me, Lord, when you went to test the wards, to urge caution. I urge it now. You said the defenses could leave you dazed for a time. Is it not prudent to wait?" Harry could feel his lip curling into a sneer, and felt his anger rise, and yet he forced himself to calm. Snape seemed to relax when the wand lowered. "Once again, Severus, you prove yourself either very brave or very stupid." He stood, walked to the girl hanging limp between the two large men, and snapped his fingers. "Crabbe, Goyle. Bring her closer. I want to see my... 'gift'". Spidery fingers grasped and pulled the hood away from her head, and he raised his wand and muttered, "Ennervate." Tangled red hair obscured her face, until she jerked her head up, eyes squinting and watering in the sudden light. She gave a gasp when she recognized him, and tried to step back. The men on either side of her held her roughly. She soon stopped struggling, trembling in fear, her legs once again refusing to support her. She smiled, her lips trembling, her eyes mad. "Hello, Tom," she rasped, his hated name coming out as a sob. "The years have not been kind..." Anger filled him, and he lifted his wand, snarling, "Crucio!" The girl's screams tore his ears, then lowered and faded and became the screams of a young man. Harry fell off his bed, the man's screams halting abruptly when he hit the ground, and only then did he realize the screams were his. Ron was peering at him from the edge of his bed, eyes wide and shining in the sliver of moonlight that filtered through his window. "Harry? Wha's goin' on?" Harry didn't answer, couldn't, as he screwed his eyes shut against the pain coming from his scar. He shuddered. Voldemort was angry, and he must still be hurting... "GINNY!" Harry bolted up, slamming his shoulder into the door as he half dashed, half fell down the stairs toward Ginny's room. He could hear Ron calling him, other voices, confused and worried, calling out, asking what was happening. His mind was on one goal, and it loomed up faster, until he crashed into the door. Someone inside shrieked and he fumbled with the knob, thrusting the door open. He barely caught the red flash before he had to dodge aside. He was wandless, so he coiled to dive at the attacker, force them to tell him what they had done with Ginny-- "Harry?!" Hermione's trembling voice pierced the red haze in his mind a split second before arms grabbed him from behind, yanking him further away from Hermione. He began to struggle. "Ron, no, let him go! What's going on?" "He's got her," Harry cried out, struggling desperately against Ron's hold. "He's got her, Merlin, he's got her, we've got to find her...!" By now, there were others, all terrified out of sleep, all wondering what was happening. Harry could only struggle all the more, visions of what he'd seen mingling with Sirius' death, causing his heart to race violently. Finally, Mrs. Weasley grabbed Harry by the shoulders. "Harry! Harry, what is the meaning of this, are you mad?! Where's Ginny?! Harry!" "I saw her! Ginny! She's... Voldemort has her!" The entire room seemed to freeze, and Harry slumped. "He has her, I saw it... I saw her look at him... I..." he shuddered. His brain, only now, was starting to process everything. Mrs. Weasley's pale face was the image of shock, and she whirled, looking at the bed, expecting to see Ginny curled up, still asleep despite all the noise. Only Hermione, paled faced and still clutching her wand and blankets, stared back. "Ginny?!" The room exploded into chaos. Ron let go of Harry, shouldering past his brothers and dashing down the stairs, calling Ginny's name. "We'll check outside!" "I'll search the house, I know where she hides!" "I thought, after... she was so upset!" "My baby, my baby, oh, Arthur!" Harry was left alone, panting and rubbing at his scar, which was prickling. Then, with a suddenness that caused him to gasp, the pain stopped. He no longer had any idea what might be happening. "Harry..." He turned, briefly wondering how he'd ended up on his hands and knees, and saw Hermione's pale face staring back at him. She swallowed, looking nervous. "Harry, what did you see?" Without hesitation, he told her, the entire dream. Lucius, Snape, Ginny, everything in the most vivid detail he could muster. Harry's voice broke when he came to Voldemort's use of the Cruciatus Curse on Ginny. Hermione's hand flew to her mouth in horror. After a long pause, which was punctuated by the Weasleys' search, Hermione opened her mouth. "H-Harry?" She wasn't looking at him; instead she was fiddling with something in her hands. "Please... please don't take this the wrong way, Harry..." She stopped and swallowed. Harry was only starting to get annoyed when she finally blurted, "Is it possible this is a trap?" Harry opened his mouth to object. His heart was hammering in his chest, and his mouth was very dry. His mind was suddenly cast back to the battle at the ministry, and Hermione's words. 'Don't you think you've got a -- a bit of a -- a -- saving-people-thing?' Was this the same? She had been right, then. Could Voldemort have used the same trick twice? Another thought caused Harry's stomach to clench, and then loosen horribly, as if he had been stretched and then let loose rapidly, leaving a dreadful hollowness inside him. This, he thought in a panic, was what I had feared all along. This is why I stopped seeing her in the first place... Harry forced his mind to the matter at hand, and took a shaky breath. "It's..." he looked up, to see Hermione nearly quailing at his gaze, and had the mad desire to laugh. "I don't know," he moaned, clenching his fists in frustration. "Snape was there. He... He said she was nothing to me. He... Voldemort almost killed her." The greasy git, he raged to himself. If I had only been better, been faster, he wouldn't have been a problem! Hermione's eyes were wide, or at least he thought they must be. Harry rubbed his face and stood, shakily. His glasses, he had to get his glasses. Hermione stood with him, her blurry face barely registering in his vision. "Harry..." She seemed as if she were torn, as if she wanted to say something. Instead, she started toward the door. "I'll get your glasses," she said, quietly. "I know, Hermione." She stopped, and Harry went on. "I know it might be a trap." "It might be, Harry," she said, but left without another comment. Harry made his way downstairs, making his way to the couch. Ron's voice drifted to him from the left. "It was just what you were afraid of, wasn't it, Harry?" Harry's throat tightened. He nodded, placing his hands over his eyes. "Voldemort's holding my sister to try to get you to come to him, isn't he?" Ron's voice sounded hollow. "I don't know." "Y-You don't know?!" Harry almost laughed. "It wasn't like with... with Sirius. It's more like... I can't explain it." He sighed. "Maybe he's just trying to make it look different." Ron's voice sounded steadier. "If it was me, I'd be trying to convince you it wasn't a trap. Make you believe it was real because it didn't look like the last time..." Ron's words brought little comfort, so they sat in silence, joined after a time by Hermione, who handed Harry his glasses and wand, and then handed Ron his wand. "What do we need these for?" Ron asked irritably. Hermione sounded tired, but determined. "If someone took Ginny from here, he got past all the protections on the Burrow. If they could do it once, they could do it again. We'd best be ready." Ron looked surprised, then nodded, and they sat in tense silence. Harry's mind kept replaying Ginny's scream over and over. The Cruciatus Curse was brutal, and powered by hatred. The Longbottoms had been driven insane by it. A sudden vision of Ginny, white haired and blank faced, shuffling to a bed in St. Mungo's spell damage ward shuddered into Harry's mind, and he stood, suddenly. "I need some air." Ron and Hermione looked at each other, then stood and followed Harry as he passed through the kitchen. "Harry," Ron called, reaching for his shoulder. "Don't be daft!" He managed to stop Harry just before the door, turning him around. Hermione looked fearfully around Ron's shoulder, much as she did when he'd been trying to get to Sirius before. "What are you on about, Ron?" Harry forced his voice to be calm. "I just need some air." Both of them looked relieved at this, and didn't stop him as he opened the door, stepping out into the garden. "I know it's hard, Harry," Ron was saying, "but it's got to be a trap. Right, mate?" He sounded as lost as Harry felt. "I don't want Ginny hurt or killed, but if it's a trap, we should wait to find out, right?" Ron continued, softer voiced, hopeful. "It's got to be a trap..." "Yeah," Harry said, turning on a spot three steps out the door, facing his friends. "It's got to be. And it's too bad, too." "Why's that?" Ron asked, suspicion in his eyes. "Because it worked." Without waiting for them to reply, he turned again, and Disapparated. A/N: So now you see why chapter 4 took so long. It's because Chapter 5 kept jumping up to be written instead! Once again, thank you to Pre-Betas Tzigane, Oklina, and Kimiko for their encouragement and help, and to Tanaxanth for being a very patient beta and not letting me get into any trouble. Much. Now, excuse me, I have to keep Ron-in-my-head from killing Harry-in-my-head.
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