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Author: Kathryn Story: Lost Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-DH Status: Completed Reviews: 27 Words: 61,881
Chapter Ten: Revelations 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. Harry sank to the floor quickly as if he had been hit with a stunning spell. He frantically grabbed his friend's wrist; his heart was pounding so hard against his ribcage as though it was going to burst from its confines. He ran his fingers along her wrist, frantically searching for her pulse. He swore under his breath, his hands shaking badly. It was hardly surprising that he could not feel anything but only hear the sound of his own heart. He took a long deep controlled breath. He was not going to get anywhere if he let his emotions take over his body. He needed to stop being a wreck and focus on helping his friend. He forced himself to take another long deep breath. With a renewed sense of calmness, he searched for her pulse again. With a small shake of his head, he turned Frankie's still, lifeless body over. He held onto her hand as he studied her body. There was not a single mark on it or any sign that showed that she had just been attacked, except for her face. Her brown eyes were wide open in surprise. She had clearly not been expecting an attack. She had just been leaving him and walking back to camp; it was part of her daily routine. He had seen too many victims of the Avada Kedavra curse. Yet he never got used to its effects and never wanted to. There was only one time in his life when he had forced himself to ignore a victim of Avada Kedavra: at that moment, the woman he loved was in a perilous position and he had to save her first. There was something very wrong, before you even counted it to be undoubtedly evil about this curse. How could someone lose her life so suddenly with no defence and no mark that showed her sacrifice? How could a body look so peaceful and unaffected although it had just met the worst possible end? Except for in the eyes. Eyes always gave away people's emotions. No matter how good an actor a person was, his or her eyes always gave away his true thoughts and feelings. Accordingly, Avada Kedavra left its sole mark in its victim's eyes. Harry forced himself to look into Frankie's eyes. Her eyes usually twinkled with life and provided warmth that could brighten any room, regardless of the situation. Whether she was having fun or doing something that required serious concentration, her eyes were the windows to her soul; they showed her every emotion from joy to despair. To see her like this just felt so wrong. Frankie had been there for him every step of the way. She had been there every time he needed her and until very recently, had never turned her back on one of his calls for help. But then he had been as guilty as she was about the recent distance between them. Frankie had helped him so much, becoming his first port of call. She was so much more than just a friend yet the one time she had needed him, he hadn't been there and he couldn't help but feel guilty. He had lost too many friends due to this war. He had let too many friends die because of his actions during this war. He had even lost his own life due to this damn war. It was too much and there was still no end in sight. "Harry!" He couldn't bear to see that expression on her face, in those sparking brown eyes any longer. Reaching out, he carefully and delicately closed her eyes. "Thanks, Frankie," he whispered. "And I promise you this is not the end of all this." Silence fell over the area for a couple of minutes as he said a quiet goodbye to his friend. She didn't deserve the hand that life had dealt her, having to put up with so much over the last couple of years. Then again, so few people deserved the hand that life gave them. "Harry? Are you okay?" Ron's words drew him out of his thoughts and away from his misery. Harry became aware of his friend for the first time since the two of them had run after the Dark Mark. "What's been going on here?" He glared at Jerome, hatred filling every inch of his body. Had he wanted to, he would have very few problems, fuelling an Unforgivable curse right now. "I'll tell you what's been going on," he spat, "he's a Death Eater!" Harry glanced over at Ron who, despite the recent events that were enough to shock anyonetake anyone for shock,, stood strong. Like so many times before, Ron held his wand high, aiming straight at Jerome's chest, daring him to move. Throughout his life since he began at Hogwarts, almost every time he had needed it, Ron had been by his side, supporting him and covering his actions. When Ron had not been there, Frankie had taken his place. He had been truly blessed with his friends. The fact that Ron was there now, was the only thing that stopped him from doing something rash to avengein the defence of Frankie; the one thing that was stopping him from unleashing that anger. Ron would always jump to his defence before questioning his actions; the level of loyalty and support his friend offered meant more to him than anything else. He knew whatever he did, whatever happened, and no matter what amount of time that passed, Ron would be at his side. "You just found her here?" Ron asked as he turned his attention to the former Slytherin, "Well," he said as he took control of the situation. "I suggest you prove it." "How?" Jerome questioned, raising his hands in mock protest. "Please enlighten me, because I'm dying to know," venom dripped from his voice, "and if I can remember rightly, you're not the most knowledgeable of Potter's sidekicks, so I'd love to know what you have in mind." Harry glanced from Ron to Jerome, as he wracked his brain. He was sure that there was some spell that could help trace the magical incantations a wand had previously cast. They would be able to easily work out a guilty party, providing that he had used his own wand. He was positive that he had read something along those lines a while ago. "Roll up your sleeves" Ron spoke softly but he kept his wand high, unmoving from his spot, as he kept his nerve and repressed any anger that he might be feeling, "and hand over your wand." "I'm not handing over my wand!" Jerome retorted quickly. Ron shrugged his shoulders before offering him a small smile and flexing his wand. "Then I guess it looks like you're going to have it taken off you." Jerome paused, looking closely at Ron's face. He seemed to be thinking over the situation before he replied, "What I meant to say," his slimy nature returning, "I'm not handing over my wand while you have your wand held up at me. I read the papers and I know what you can do with that thing. Put your wand down." "Fine," Ron smiled at Harry as Ron stooped to the floor and placed his wand on it. Harry took his lead and kept a firm grip of his wand and aimed it upwards. Ron gave Harry a small nod as he spoke, "Now you." Glaring at him, Jerome plastered a sickly sweet smile on his face as he placed his wand on the floor. Standing up, he slowly rolled up the right sleeve of his t-shirt, showing nothing but plain flesh. He offered an unnerving grin as he moved his hand over to raise his left sleeve. Indented into his forearm was a green snake coming out of a skull's mouth. A shiver ran down Harry's spine as he jumped to his feet. He looked up at the Dark Mark hanging in the air and then, at the same image indented on Jerome's arm. "Is that what you were looking for?" Jerome questioned in a smug tone. "I'm amazed no one had the brains to work this out before, but your brain has been pretty much scrambled, Potter. Couldn't recognise your own girlfriend." He paused to add weight to his words. "I've had so much fun adding to her problems with her sanity, stopping her looking for you and as an added bonus earned some more gold to go into the vault. But no one will ever be able to prove that, I've covered my tracks well." The sense of anger that Harry was feeling started to grow rapidly, as Jerome continued in his slippery tone. "You may not remember much, but you should now. In a war, people do what they can to preserve their blood, right?" He paused as he sent Ron a smile. "People do what they can to survive." "What about after the war?" Harry questioned in a tense voice that showed he was struggling to keep his temper under control. "We both know that although the Dark Lord may be gone, this war is not over." Everything was making so much sense now. He could have--should have worked things out much sooner. All the hints were there. If only he had taken the time to think, he could have stopped all this. The press leaks about Ginny. Bumping into Jerome before Neve's death. Jerome lurking in dark tents with open trunks. The mysterious paperwork and the variety of long sleeved t-shirts. And now Frankie. Hatred filled his body as he glared at the young Death Eater standing in front of him. Surely everyone was born as equal. How could people become so indoctrinated into those beliefs that they became nothing short of evil and able to perform unthinkable acts? Harry rushed over and drew his arm backwards, letting all his frustrations and anger sweep over him. He let fly and his fist made contact with Jerome's nose, demonstrating a fine act of Muggle duelling. He pulled his hand back again without waiting for the blood to dry on Jerome's face or even for him to get back to his feet; he had one thought in his mind. The Death Eater was going to pay for everything he had done. He was going to pay for this war and all the deaths that had occurred in the last two years. "Harry, don't," Ron said as he seized Harry's arms and pulled his friend backwards. "He's not worth it!" Ron grabbed his own wand from off the floor and quickly muttered, "Stupefy." He turned his attention back to Harry, softly expressing his words in his eyes, "Don't do something you'll end up regretting." "This is the least he deserves!" Harry exploded. "He killed Neve, and he killed Frankie," he said, his voice was packed with emotion. "He let Ginny be persecuted." Ron let go of him, his voice shaking, "You know about Ginny?" Harry added a slightly shameful nod, "I met her last week." "Then why the hell did she turn up one week ago," his ears were turning red, "in floods of tears, wanting to do things that I don't even consider?" His face was glowing with anger. "She was back to the state she was in when she was released from St Mungo's. She may put up a strong front, but over the last two years, she's had her heart broken and her sanity questioned on a weekly basis. She can only take so much, Harry!" Harry forced himself not to look away from Ron's glare. "What did you say? How did you hurt her?" "I really didn't mean to," Harry replied quickly, guilt coursing through every inch of his body. He should not have expected anything other than this. Ron was, first and foremost, Ginny's older brother. Of course, he would defend his little sister from anyone who hurt her. Why did that memory have to come today? Why couldn't he have developed those feelings last week? Even with such a promising start, this was quickly becoming one of the worst and longest days in his life. "I didn't mean to," he repeated aswith as much earnestly as he could manage, "I just didn't remember her, and I wasn't going to lie to her." "Shit," Ron muttered as he started to pace in the clearing. "Please tell me this is some strange kind of joke." "What's the point in joking about this?" Harry explained with a slight shrug of his shoulders, keeping an eye on the former Slytherin. "And while I know it's a mess, there's nothing I can do about it right now. I'm going to deal with it after I see him in Azkaban." He watched the Death Eater stoop to the floor and reach for his wand. "Expelliarmus." "Petrificus Totalus," Ron flicked his wand as he halted his pacing. "At least that's easily sorted," his voice sounding hollow, as he cast a silvery jet out of his wand that quickly took the form of a Jack Russell terrier. "Expecto Patronum." Ron watched the small dog until it disappeared into the distance, allowing time for his thoughts to settle and his message to reach its desired destination. "Hermione works as assistant to Mafalda Hopkirk, the new head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It will be her department that sorts this out and arranges a trial." "Trial?" Harry questioned "He was caught red handed; he as good as confessed." "Everyone deserves a fair trial." He paused, before whispering quietly, "Think about Sirius, Harry." "Sirius was innocent," he said automatically and instantly without knowing where the words had come from. "I know that!" Ron glared at the former Slytherin. "But what I'm saying is that no matter how guilty someone looks, he's entitled to a fair hearing. We want to know everything he has done." Harry looked closely at Ron. He looked so much older than his faded memories of him. He was thinking much more rationally than in those dreams he previously had but then a lot of people had changed, not least himself. "When did you get so wise?" "It's been a long two years," he explained, with a look on his face that was much older than his nineteen years. "We lost you and almost lost Ginny, and not to mention, Hermione's been a wreck at times. Someone needed to stay in control." "Thanks, Ron," he said, softly. "What for?" "Everything." Harry paused, "For looking after them." "There was nothing else to do." Ron smiled at him. "Besides, you'll make it up to everyone later." Harry looked briefly down at his feet, unsure of what to say next. He could hear Ron shuffling on his own feet. Things were not as natural as they should be or as they had been. They were never going to be; not after what had happened in the last two years. They were going to need some time. Yet Harry knew that the base of their friendship, despite everything, was still there. That was clear the second Ron had run after him and jumped for his wand. Several loud popping noises broke through the silence and tension that had enveloped the site. Twenty witches and wizards dressed in a variety of Muggle clothing, some in some strange combinations, appeared within seconds and formed a circle around the three of them. All of them had their wands raised high into the centre and beneath the Dark Mark. "Who conjured it?" One of the men asked as he moved out of the circle and towards them. "He did," Harry said, gesturing to Jerome's body that was still immobile on the ground. "He's a Death Eater. "And her?" he spoke without much feeling, as if he just wanted to get the job done quickly. "Frankie," Harry whispered as he gulped, a lump caught in his throat. "She was hit by Avada Kedavra," he managed to choke out, his voice filled with tears as his attention was brought back to her. "She was a camp volunteer and a great friend." "Harry!" A woman's voice exclaimed. A teenage girl came out from the circle. She lowered her wand and walked towards him. The young woman before him was one of the few to get the Muggle dress code correct. As she got closer, the sun caught her bushy brown hair and lit up her face. "Harry?" Her voice was shaking. "Is that really you?" He nodded, "Hermione?" Harry watched as Ginny picked up her clothes from the floor, and threw them in the washing basket. Neither of them had seen much point in aiming for the washing basket when they were throwing their garments off in their passionate hurry last night. They had far more important and pressing matters on their minds. He couldn't help but smile as Ginny kept a tight hold of the bedding while opening the door to the wardrobe and pulling out some clothes. It was almost as if she was trying to retain the last elements of innocence. They were losing everything that they treasured most far too easily. Ginny was being extremely careful that nothing slipped out of place. She was fussing over her hands and the blankets so much that she dropped her jeans three times and nearly lost the covers as many times in quick succession. He had to forcibly stop himself from laughing, but he couldn't keep the grin from growing larger. She needn't have bothered with all this; they had seen and discussed everything last night. Yet somehow, the reality of the day was setting in and he knew what he had to do. As much as he wanted to see the sun shining on her delicate figure, he had things to do. As much as he would love to watch her move and to closely examine every inch of her, he couldn't; time was pressing. This was the first day of the rest of his life, and he had plans to put into action that had nothing to do with the events that would take place later that evening. Plans that concerned Ginny and seeing her like this every morning for the rest of their lives. "Harry," she spoke softly, annoyance clearly showing on her face as she turned her head to look at him. "Yes?" "You do know it's rude to stare at someone," she spoke in a serious voice and kept her face straight yet her eyes twinkled with mischief that showed she wasn't annoyed in the slightest. He smiled; she was the only person who could bring a sense of fun into any situation, something that was definitely required this morning. She shot him a soft, parting smile as she left the room, the covers still in place and headed towards the bathroom. Forcing himself up instead of lying in bed and letting images of Ginny float through his mind, he got out of bed, and pulled on a pair of boxers and jeans. He pulled an old t-shirt out of the drawer without bothering to look at it and yanked it over this head. Leaving the room, he paused for a second on the landing. He could hear Ginny's voice floating over the sounds of running water from the shower, singing a Weird Sisters' love song. He almost fell down the stairs in the rush to get out the house. Jumping the last few stairs, he felt a sense of urgency fill his entire body. Hopping on one foot at a time, he pulled on an old pair of trainers. Gringotts would have to deal with the scruffy look today. He made sure that he pocketed his key and wand as he regained his balance; he flung himself at the door. "Harry!" He almost fell again as he spun round. "Yes, Hermione?" he said automatically. He should have known to expect her here. "Where are you going?" She spoke sternly, using that same voice whenever she disapproved of his actions. He studied Hermione's face. She rarely let these things drop, especially when she saw herself in the right. He knew what was going through her mind, but he was not sure whether he could dismiss her doubts with the truth just yet. He wanted Ginny to be the first to know, and that would not be until tonight. Harry glanced back upstairs towards where he could hear Ginny moving around. In this old house, you could hear every movement in the upper floors. If he closed his eyes, he knew he would be able to see her every movement as well. "Harry!" "I can't really tell you." "Harry," her voice had a snap to it that proved to him clearly that she wasn't going to be able to brush him off, just like he had suspected. "You are not doing this alone, we agreed yesterday. We all decided. We would go and get that necklace together and destroy it together. Then we will all go to battle when you will face him." As she spoke her arms waved in the air almost leading to her throwing her burnt piece toast at the front door. "You promised, Harry." "I'm not going there," he said, trying to say as few words as possible, giving few clues to his actions. "I don't believe you," Hermione's voice raised. "And if you're not going to tell me, I'm going to come with you." "Would you keep your voice down, Ginny will hear you," he hissed, glancing nervously at the stairs. "I'm not going to get that Horcrux. If you must know I've got some business to sort out at Gringotts." "Business linked to Ginny?" she asked shrewdly. "Drop it, Hermione," he said stubbornly. He was not going to back down on this issue. "Just keep her busy and I'll be back within the hour." "Harry is that really you?" Hermione asked, drawing him out of his trace. He looked at her for a second, not willing to let the memory go. He had been getting so close to finding everything out. What was he going to Gringotts for? What did he need to talk to Ginny about? He needed her so much, right now. It was so important that he talked to her. But had he blown all those chances? Would her family even let him near The Burrow? As much as having his best friends by his side was important, it was not his greatest the root of his desires. "Harry?" Her voice was shaking. "It's me," he said softly. She walked over to Ron, her body shaking as much as her voice had been. She leaned on him, and spoke in barely a whisper. "How could this have happened?" Tears were sparkling in her bright brown eyes and shining as they fell onto her cheeks. "All the evidence, all the facts, suggested that he was dead. How could we have given up?" "It was the blast." Harry said. "Why didn't we listen to Ginny? She was so adamant that he was alive, but we just added to the fears she'd lost her mind. We didn't give her a chance, just dismissed her views as signs of depression, even madness." She continued to ignore Harry's words. "Does she know? How do we tell her?" Ron rubbed her back, "She knows." "Well, why isn't she here?" "Things aren't that easy." Ron gulped. "There were complications." Harry watched the pair of them. They were so loving and tender towards each other. He watched as Ron let Hermione cry into his shoulder. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy rising within him as Ron kept a tight hold of her. This was as much a shock for them as it was for him, if not more so. He glanced up at the Dark Mark still hanging in the air. Voldemort may be gone, but he still had a huge effect on people's lives. "Miss Granger," one of the Ministry officials said tentatively, as he broke from the circle. He waited until she gave him a small nod of acknowledgement. "What do we do about the deceased and the suspect?" "Take them." Hermione stooped down and picked up Jerome's fallen wand. "And you'll be needing this for Prior Incantato." The official reached forward and took the wand from her trembling hand. "And will you be coming?" "No," she shook her head, "Will you explain to Madam Hopkirk that I've taken the rest of the day off. Say whatever you have to." A small amount of smoke around Frankie's body appeared and several popping noises led to the disappearance of both Jerome and the ministry officials. They were now on their own and he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable being left alone with his former best friends. So much had changed. It was as if none of them knew how to react to each other. He looked away, trying to focus on something, anything but the silent tension that had engulfed the area. Flying through the clearing and amongst the trees was a teenage girl. She was staring at the sky, a fierce determined look in her eyes and her vibrant red hair flying against the air with her wand raised. She paused as she came to a standstill studying the situation before her. "Harry?" He couldn't help but offer her a small smile, "Ginny?"
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