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Author: Kathryn Story: Lost Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-DH Status: Completed Reviews: 26 Words: 61,881
Disclaimer: All the characters you recognize belong to J.K. Rowling and I'm just borrowing them. The others and the plot are mine for my sins. It had been a very slow week at camp; every action, thought, and movement seemed to take much longer than it should have. Days seemed an eternity as the hours dragged and a sense of gloom blanketed the entire place. The life of the camp seemed to have dissipated the minute that Ginny Weasley had walked through those gates. The feeling had only worsened as many people felt part of their hearts had been buried at the same private funeral on Tuesday. The simple fact was that the camp was in mourning. Since Neve's death, it had become even clearer how popular she was among the people. They not only lost a friend but also, the feeling of safety they had while Neve was around. Now with the confirmation of Ginny's disappearance, it was like a double blow to the camp residents. Harry, like the others, was in shock. When Ginny had arrived at the camp, she had brought a ray of light to people's lives; she had banished the darkness from their lives and gave them a reason to hope, to live for the future. She was a heroine of the last war. She was deemed to be flawless by so many people but the reality was that she was simply a heartbroken teenager who had made mistakes. She was never the perfect image they had believed to be true and that had come as a shock to many. Then, in the height of all the chaos, she had left, or even worse, been sacked. As Frankie had said to Harry after Ginny's departure, it was a good thing that we did not meet our heroes, because if we did, we would find out that they were simply human beings like the rest of us. They had the same desires, they wanted to be loved, and they made mistakes. That shattered illusions and broke people's dreams when the realisation that heroes were just like anyone else was revealed. The same hopes that had collected over the last three months had ebbed away. It was amazing how quickly a single action could make all those hopes disappear. As Harry pulled on his red t-shirt and a pair of tattered and faded jeans, he realised that he had been as guilty as everyone else of moping around, instead of doing something practical. Instead of trying to focus on moving on and examining his new memories for clues pertaining to his past, at first he had been filled with a longing for things to return to normal. However, within a few hours of those original thoughts he had found that the sense of longing he had had for so many months had now changed. He found that his overriding desire to find his own identity had been replaced by one to spend every spare minute with Ginny Weasley. Something in his heart was telling him that everything would be okay as long as she was standing by his side. He silently cursed himself. Why couldn't he have felt like this that week when she was desperate to hear it? Why did it take her departure from the camp for him to realise what she meant to him. Harry strode through the camp with a new sense of purpose. He was sick of waiting for things to happen. He was Harry Potter, and if everything he had worked out from those final memories was true, he was not going to sit around in his tent. He was going to make things happen instead, by trying to find the answers and get her back. If all the reports printed in the aftermath of the war were true, he would be incomplete without Ginny Weasley. In some publications printed it stated that Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley were incomplete without each other and he was starting to think that every statement he had read along those lines was true. Quite simply, he was Harry Potter, and Harry Potter belonged with Ginny Weasley. He weaved his way through the camp and arrived at Frankie's tent. The fun atmosphere that used to surround it and captivate people's minds, had completely disappeared. If the camp was in mourning, then this tent was in nothing less than a state of depression. The two empty trunks and bunk that remained in the room were a reminder of everything that had happened in the last seven days. Despite the fact that there were five people gathered in the small area, the place was silent. Instead of the radio blasting music at full volume and the loud, lively conversations that took place, the tent now felt like a morgue. The four volunteers were all cut off in their own little worlds. Deon and Curtis were silent as the two read a book and the day's copy of the Daily Prophet respectively on their individual beds. Jerome was at the table going through piles of papers, with, unless Harry was very mistaken, a small smirk on his face. All the while, Frankie was lying on her bunk gazing aimlessly at the roof of the tent. It was strange to see her so isolated and quiet. He was so used to her buzzing around the camp. He was used witnessing a range of emotions from, her which were always expressed in a confident fashion. Hearing her voice as anyone entered a room and seeing her smile beam and light up a room were things that would make his heart leap. He knew the past week's events had shaken her to her core, and with him moping in his own tent, she had been left to deal with everything alone. However, despite all this, Harry couldn't help but feel slightly unnerved at seeing his friend this way. Silence did not suit her. "Frankie?" Harry said in a soft voice that carried across the still air. His voice broke the silence of the room. Frankie broke out from her daze at her name but Jerome stopped what he was doing. He stared at Harry as he quickly moved all his papers into a hasty pile so that Harry could not see them. As Harry glanced over suspiciously at Coughlan's golden boy and then at the top piece on the pile, Jerome moved the messy pile into a folder. "What do you want?" Jerome hissed as he raised his wand to the folder and magically sealed it. Harry had the renewed feeling that Jerome was hiding something. His gut instinct told him that if he worked out what the pile of papers said, the whole mess of the camp would start to unravel but he didn't have time to worry about that now. "Frankie?" He questioned again, ignoring the former Slytherin. "Yeah," she said as she pulled herself up into a sitting position. Ignoring Jerome's glare, he focused his attention solely on his friend. "Do you want to go out for a walk, get some air, and talk about things?" "Okay," Frankie replied without too much enthusiasm, as she swung her legs around and over the rail."I guess. It will be good to get out of here for a bit." Frankie landed on the ground with a certain level of grace that very few could muster. After she steadied herself, she scooped down into her trunk and quickly grabbed a green hooded sweatshirt to protect her from the cool winter air. She gathered her brown hair into a ponytail to stop it from getting into her eyes. "You ready?" "Almost," she replied as she rummaged through the bottom of her trunk, pulling out a small box and slipping it into her pocket. "Okay, let's go." They made their way out of the tent and through the camp in silence. They soon reached the gates where everything had unfolded last Saturday afternoon. Harry offered her a small nod, before using his wand to open the gates. "I want to be away from prying eyes." "I get that," she said with a small nod. Frankie hesitated slightly before following him out the gates. There was a Death Eater on the loose who had no qualms about murdering innocent people. Harry knew that Frankie had no experience against Voldemort's men, having never fought in a war. Neve's death had brought out the fragile nature of life and the perilous position they were living in. Harry, however, had an improved confidence; he had faced a lot more than Death Eaters in his life and even though he did not remember it, he felt confidant in his knowledge that he had beaten them. If he met one, he was sure his instincts would take over and he would relish the opportunities to fight them which would hopefully also unleash some of the blocks on his memory. Harry led his friend a few feet away from the gate. They found themselves walking alone through the muddy track before he stopped by a grassy bank and sat down on the soft ground. He gestured to Frankie to do the same. She sat down next to him and offered him a small smile. It was a smile that he would have found irresistible a week ago but today, all of his thoughts were focused on Ginny Weasley. "So, I'm Harry Potter," he said softly, trying to both lighten the mood and find out everything he needed to know. "Yeah." He could hear the smile in her voice. "It's pretty amazing, huh?" he offered her a small shrug, as he gave her a brief smile. "I mean, I've done all these things, but I have no memory of them, just a bunch of broken fragments. You'd think vanquishing Voldemort would be something I'd remember." Frankie shuddered at the mention of the name, but managed to give him a weak smile. "You'd think." "And more importantly, you'd think that I'd remember her." "To be fair, you were drooling from the day she got here and as soon as you saw her, those memories started to come back." Frankie explained softly. "So you really shouldn't be too hard on yourself." She studied his face. "You want to get her back." He nodded slowly. "Yeah, I need her back," He said, pausing for a couple of seconds, allowing himself to collect his thoughts. "She was such a huge part of my life that I can't help but feel drawn to her. I find myself longing to remember the little things that made Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley so special, and not just the things I've read in the clippings. I'm longing to know those little things that make her who she is. I want to be worthy of her when I get her back, or at the very least, to have some memories of her to draw on." He offered her a hopeful smile. "You lived with her for three months, tell me about her." Frankie gave him a small shrug, "I'm not sure what I can say. I didn't know her very well. She pretty much kept to herself, and I wasn't exactly the person she turned to when she wanted to open up." She let out a long, deep breath as she saw the look of longing in his eyes. "But, I guess, I can at least try to help somehow." She paused again, letting out another long breath. "Well there's the stuff everyone knows. She's a Weasley, and they are a very important family especially after the war. Her twin brothers are known world wide." "Fred and George?" He questioned automatically. "That's right," her smile grew. "According to the reports, Ginny herself is very intelligent. She got almost straight O's in her OWLs with couple of E's. Her NEWTs weren't quite as good, but despite everything, she moved past them all. She's an exceptional Quidditch player, but you've probably read that in the Prophet, so I'm guessing that this isn't really the stuff you want to know, right?" "She played as a Chaser, right?" he said automatically, not sure why he knew that fact. "I think so; I never really spoke to her about it." He smiled. It was amazing how talking to someone could bring back fragments of memories. "I used to get hit by so many Bludgers in practices." Frankie let out a warm laugh. "I can imagine that happening." Her face lit up, her confidence returning. "The one thing I do know, Harry," she paused as she pulled a small box out of her pocket, "is that she really loved you. You could see it in her eyes. You could hear it in the dark at night, in the silence of the tent… you could hear her tears. She never gave up on you, not once, despite everyone thinking she was mad." She placed the small box in his hand. "And you shouldn't give up on her either." Harry opened the small box. His heart buoyed as he saw the delicate necklace. "This was my mum's." he said reverently. "I didn't know." "Why would you?" He gulped, trying to stop emotions from overtaking him. "I think I'm going to take a minute alone. Do you want me to walk you back to camp?" "No, I'll be okay," she said as she got to her feet. "Are you sure? I mean after what happened to Neve, I should at least see you to the gates." He offered an argument. "I'll be fine," she insisted more forcibly, "I'm not a little girl, I'll have my wand out at all times; besides you have more important things to do." She turned away before she looked back over her shoulder at him. "Where are you going to be?" "I'm going back to Little Hangleton," he said warily; he still wasn't sure about any of this. "I'll be fine," she repeated looking at him straight in the eyes, "so stop being noble and go do what you have to. Just one small thing." "What is it?" he asked instantly. "Be careful, Harry." He offered her a smile as he got to his feet. "I will." The shade of the trees directed his route as his kept walking until he reached the signpost. Looking up briefly at it, he turned left and down towards a road that led to the old manor house. He felt that he was being pulled over to the old building. He knew this spot very clearly from his nightly torments. A bundle of nerves grew in his stomach; this was where everything had ended. He reached the point where it had taken place. This was the destination of Ginny's frequent trips and the place where his final memories lay. Resting his back against a tall rock, he shifted his gaze towards the alley. His hand moved to the silver necklace that lay inside the box, the diamond encrusted pendant sparkling in the autumn light as it hung on the delicate white gold chain. Harry passed through the doors of the Hogwarts castle. He had tried to delay coming to see her since the attack, unable to bear the sight of what the Death Eaters had done to her. He had gone straight to the hospital wing with her after the attack, carrying her into the room. But then as Madam Pomfrey had started to work her magic, he had disappeared. He did not want to see her looking helpless. The Ginny he loved was a strong and confident woman and anything but helpless. He did not want to relive the worst moment of his life and see her looking like she had on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets. It had taken five days of pressure from Hermione for him to return. This is what he had been afraid of: that she would get hurt; that he would be forced to attend her funeral. He wasn't strong enough for that. When he died, whether it be sooner or later, and he very much hoped for later, he wanted the memory of her smiling. He wanted to hear her warm laughs, to feel her kisses run through every inch of his body. He wanted a lifetime of happy memories, not enforced angst that ended with a premature death. When he arrived at the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey had told him that Ginny had already been released. Without stopping or saying anything, he had left, heading towards the grounds of the castle to the only place where she could have gone. Harry headed across the grounds, letting his feet carry him without any thought as to where he was heading. His heart knew where she would be. It was almost as if his heart had a string pulling him towards her and despite their time apart this year, they were still so closely connected. As he reached the lake, his movements slowed down. There she was, her red hair glowing in the sunlight, a beacon that drew him closer to her. She looked so alone as she stared out at the lake. Yet despite the fragile state of her petite body, power radiated from her. "Ginny," he said softly. "Hi, Harry," she said, turning her head to look at him. "Are you okay?" She nodded. "Yeah, I'll be fine." A huge rush of relief filled his heart. He had been so scared that there would be some lasting damage. Not everyone who faced Death Eaters survived to tell the tale, and if the more times you encountered Voldemort's followers the greater the risk, well… Ginny had been fighting Death Eaters since she was fourteen. "You gave me a scare back there," he explained as he made his way closer to her. "Looks like I scared a lot of people," she said with a small smile. "Mum's been lecturing me for three days straight." Harry laughed. "Did you expect anything different?" "No," Ginny said softly as she gestured to him to join her on the ground. She waited until he sat down before she started speaking again. "I've missed not being able to help out though. I've hated being a sitting duck, unable to do anything but read the newspapers." She took his hand in hers. "All this time to think has made be realise one thing though." "What is it?" he asked, positive that if she was feeling anything like he was, he already knew the answer. "I've missed not spending time with you. I find myself longing to be at your side." Her soft voice made him feel warm inside. "I know the reason for that. It's not just because I want to help. Don't get me wrong; I'm desperate to fight, and I know I deserve to be in this battle. The reason I want to be next to you every single day for the rest of my life is because I love you." "I love you as well, Ginny." He had said those words so many times to the Ginny that had captured his dreams and thoughts since he had left her at The Burrow. The words had come out so easily. "But that doesn't change anything." She glared at him. "No, Harry, these words change everything. Isn't that what Dumbledore used to say? Isn't that the thing that Voldemort is scared of? Isn't that the thing that will help you win this?" He paused as he tried to think of an argument that would work; an argument that would convince her to leave him alone so that she wouldn't be risking her life by joining him. "It's not safe, Ginny, you know you could get hurt again and I couldn't let that happen." "Didn't I get hurt anyway?" she spoke in a determined voice. "Whether you like it or not, I'm as much of a target sitting in lessons as I would be by your side." "You can't Apparate," he said, grasping to his last possible objection. "That's only a matter of time," she replied quickly. "Ginny." She raised her eyebrows and kept up the defiant tone in her voice, "Harry." "I'm not going to win this, am I?" Softly she shook her head. "Once I've learned to Apparate, I'm setting out to fight. I'm going to be part of this battle; the only thing that is up to you is whether I'm at your side or doing this with Luna and Neville on my own." A smile formed on his lips. He had been waiting for this moment for well over a year. It was amazing after waiting for so long, how quickly this memory had returned to him. Maybe it was just a case of knowing exactly what he was longing to know. Maybe it was a case of realizing what he was missing. Maybe it was just returning to that place that had prompted this but right now, he couldn't care less about examining the trail of memories. He was not going to sit around camp wanting things to happen; he was going to get his life back. Instantly, Harry knew what he had to do. He was going to get her back, even if it was the last thing he did and he knew that after all the pain she had been through, she would want the same thing. After all, if anyone deserved happiness, shouldn't it be the people who had already sacrificed so much. If he could fight against evil, he could definitely fight for love. Harry got to his feet as soon as his senses returned. He was going to get his things from his tent and then visit Coughlan to ask for the Weasley family address. He was going to do whatever it took to get those memories back. He retraced his steps to the camp gates, focusing solely on the return to camp, ignoring anything else but the road in front of him. The pace of his movements increased with every second. He had already wasted too much time. As he got near camp, a flash of red hair made him come to a sudden halt. He shook his head; she couldn't possibly have come back. He started taking long, purposeful strides towards the gates. When he was a mere fifty yards from the gates, he realised his mistake. "Ron?" His best friend turned around. As Harry got closer, he found that Ron's eyes had widened in shock and his mouth had dropped a little. "It can't be," he whispered in denial. "Ron?" "No wonder she's been in floods of tears." "Ginny's been crying?" Harry asked, feeling a mixture of sadness that she was hurting and happiness that she was missing him. He couldn't help but feel guilty at the thought. "Yeah," he muttered, "Harry, is that really you?" "Yeah, it's me," Harry replied. "Then why the hell are you here?" Ron queried. "Well," he started, wondering how to answer the question, or even what to say in response. A deafening noise filled the silence that had been brought on by Ron's questions. Alerted by the camp alarm, Harry cast his eyes into the sky. The Dark Mark was once again hanging in what seemed to be the same spot that it had been just seven days ago. A chill ran down his spine. He was the one who had encouraged her to walk out of the camp with him, even after she had hesitated. He was the one who had walked out and left her alone to walk to that old house. Harry turned his back his friend and headed towards the Dark Mark. He couldn't leave anyone out there on his own, but if it was the smallest chance that it could be her, then he couldn't stay here. "Harry?" Ron called after him. "What are you doing? Where the bloody hell are you going?" "To that mark," he replied without turning around as he gestured into the air. "I have to find Frankie." "Frankie?" Ron spluttered as he caught up with him. He was clearly both out of breath and struggling to come to terms with everything he had just experienced in the last ten minutes. "The same Frankie that's in Ginny letters?" "She's in trouble, Ron." Harry turned the corner and cast his eyes down from the Dark Mark to the dark figure that stood over the body of a young woman with brown hair. "YOU!" Harry exclaimed. Why had he dismissed all those thoughts earlier? He had known something was wrong but he had just dismissed it all, putting it on the back burner for later. Why had he been so selfish? Why couldn't he have given a second for the person who had helped him piece everything together? "It's not what you think," the former Slytherin replied. "I just found her. We need to get help."
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